Work Text:
“I’m curious,” said Warrior Kim. “How do you deal with the urges?” He unconsciously flexed his hand. The burn had long healed, but the memory of divine power flowing into him when they touched remained. He could not forget feeling like an ant under a magnifying lens.
“The urges?” The Old Father’s Saintess had a coquettish expression, but did not move away from him. “What makes you so certain I have urges? I am a saintess, you know.”
“No; I’m positive you have them. Others may not think of you that way because of your position, but I know. There is no way a woman with a lush and sexy body like yours has no urges.” His eyes flickered over her body, the black turtleneck and jeans she wore when in civilian clothes. With her long hair and graceful cheekbones, she could have been a model. Unbidden, the thousands of bodies of the Seoul zombie outbreak, decaying and shattered, flashed in his mind.
She stepped closer. He could smell a floral scent, something unfamiliar. She was not wearing armor, and her breasts swayed hypnotically against the dark fabric as she leaned in.
“Are you telling me this because you have urges?” she asked in a low voice. “Do you have difficulty dealing with them? Do you… wish for release?”
“I — I believe in a pure love between individuals who appreciate each other!” blurted Kim.
The Saintess giggled, but her giggle was like a child’s shriek of joy at finding a toy.