The early morning hours surround Materia's tower, and there's one warrior who wakes up from slumber to an unexpected event.

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Vaan didn't really know why his body decided wake him up at four in the fricking morning, or why he even had the energy to lift himself up and sit cross-legged on the bed. Moreover, he didn't want to go back to sleep.

And he always went back to sleep. Especially at 4AM.

Oh well. Guess I'll just be up. The thought came limp and slow, and it rolled around in his head a few times until his crusty eyes met the blue streaks of morning from the window. It was pretty, Vaan thought, how the light came through the blinds like carefully placed spotlights. It looked like underwater—some embodiment of peace that only the early morning could master. He was tired and yet he wasn't, and he was confused yet nonchalant. Nothing about this moment made sense, but the natural gleams of light from this otherwise barren world made it pretty okay—worth it, even.

Vaan scratched his nose, made a quick jerk with his neck to fling a bang back into place. There was nothing wrong with a barren world, though. It just meant endless possibilities—a place where rules couldn't tell you where to go. But in Vaan's mind, something was always better than nothing. In fact, the idea of nothing was only exciting because that meant there could be something. It could be whatever anyone wanted.

Okay, now Vaan's mind was just spinning endlessly. All this thinking about something and nothing . . . It somehow threw his mind toward the team bonding challenge. He needed something, which was a kiss, and as of now, he had nothing. And though the thought of nothing to something was supposed to mean excitement, this actually kind of terrified him. Did he really wanna leave the comfort of having close to nothing with someone, for all the complex crap a kiss could bring?

Maybe nothing was sometimes better than something. But if Vaan wanted to prove himself a worthy warrior of Materia, he had nowhere to run.

Vaan didn't blink for probably a solid five minutes, so he wiped a calloused palm over his lids. Then his gaze made a dart to the door he forgot to close before he passed out for the night.

Well, there's no better way to stop a rabbit hole than to get the hell out of it.

.
.
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"Vaan."

Vaan wasn't even halfway down the hall, groggily dragging his bare heels and trying not to slip on the slick floor, before he heard a whisper between soft and stern. His head snapped to the side, and there were brown braids tinted blue from the early morning glaze.

"Aerith?" he whispered back, but it almost wasn't a whisper. He didn't realize he was walking past her room, and he definitely didn't expect for her to look more awake than he was. She sat with a wide, intensely green stare, and her legs folded under a tiny, white gown that he probably shouldn't be seeing her in.

Aerith didn't say anything more, instead beckoning Vaan inside with a pleading slit in her eyes and a small chin-jerk. Vaan wasn't sure, but Aerith's whole face looked like a cascade of wild emotions. He didn't know if she was on the verge of crying or wanted to smack some sense into him for something he forgot he did.

Vaan tried to look unaffected by her intensity as he slacked his arms behind his head and slugged over. "Hey, you okay?" He felt a bang fall and he blew it skyward.

There was nothing less intense about Aerith's gaze now that he was closer—obviously, it was worse now. Her eyes were oil-slicked gems, her mouth looked like it was biting down on steel. Crap, was she sad or angry out of her mind? Did Vaan forget to flush or something? Aerith's freakishly thick silence act didn't let up even as she moved to stand, so he was a hair-length away from asking again.

Until her hand butterflied over his collarbone.

Vaan flinched backwards a little, but he didn't really move. He couldn't really move, because her hand wasn't the only thing in motion. Her stare ripped itself away from Vaan's eyes, instead polka-dotting him from his naked chest to his sweatpants-clad waist. Suddenly, Aerith didn't look mad at all. Far, far from it.

And the sudden realization sent a feverishly sweet throb through Vaan's groin.

Uh . . .

Whatever he was thinking couldn't make it to his throat, because then there was warmth and moisture and softness between Vaan's lips. Vaan's mouth automatically parted, letting Aerith's mouth explore his, letting her tongue roam and swallow his sanity. Vaan could've yelped—he should've yelped—but Aerith's hands were working magic between the creases of his pecs, and her mouth was hot like a sauna that melted his bones to mush. So Vaan's crazy, disoriented fingers found a way to grip Aerith's waist, and his mind flew away. He returned the kiss in full measure, and they fell into a rhythm of locking and unlocking their lips, catching a breath here and there, letting a moan or two escape. It was hot as hell. Crazy sexy. Vaan thought he was going to explode below the belt and he couldn't stop himself from loving it.

Wait. The badge . . .

Oh, right. Obviously, this was about the challenge. Aerith must've just picked the first guy she saw slugging down the hall so she could get this stupid challenge over with. He couldn't really blame her. This should've been enough though—it was more than enough. Aerith had to know that, too.

Vaan pulled away once the thought slapped him, painful as the action was. Nothing escaped his mouth except for ragged, lust-drugged breaths. Before he could wrap around any kind of clear word, Aerith pressed her forehead to Vaan's. Her fingers curved around the back of his neck, and a trail of shivers went straight through Vaan's body like canon-fired glitter.

She stared at him, he stared at her. Aerith's eyes were green fire burning holes in the dark—burning holes through Vaan and whatever bits of control he had left. And to top it off, her tongue made this hot little jump to wet her top lip. Her lips were parted, glistening, a sex-hungry wolf.

There was no way in hell they were done yet.

Mouths sucking, fingers scratching skin, Aerith stumbled them both over to her bed where they crashed into waves of ecstasy. Everything was a big blur of Vaan's tongue tasting Aerith's, fingernails tangling Vaan's hair, heartbeats everywhere and anywhere they shouldn't be. Vaan's mind was an airship stripping through clouds at full speed. All he felt and wanted was sweat and spit and the beautifully painful squeeze between his legs. So when Aerith flicked her head up for air, let her braids tickle Vaan's shoulders and leave wicked, open-mouthed kisses along his neck, he saw fireworks. Nothing but big, curvy, screaming fireworks. Vaan's body acted all on its own, sending his spine arching and hips forward, grazing against Aerith in quick, desperate motions. At this, Aerith gasped and—oh, shit—it was music. But then she matched his thrusting's rhythm. But then her hot, moaning mouth encased his ear. But then suddenly all the pink clouds in his head were gone and left him with a thought drawn in thick, black marker.

What the hell . . . are we doing?

"Whoa whoa," Vaan gasped, breathless. Finally, he could grip Aerith's shoulders, push her back and see her wide, embarrassed look of unquenched thirst. Dammit. He was nothing but a hot, blushing mess right now, and the whole world just needed to stop. "Th-this is going way farther than need-be. We gotta . . . we gotta slow down. We gotta stop."

Just as winded and flushed, Aerith pulled up on her fallen dress straps. She silently agreed.