Work Text:
When Agatha woke up that morning, the last thing she expected was to be stuck in an elevator with Rio of all people.
It hadn't bothered her at first, Rio’s presence. Running into her in the building was rare, but not impossible. Normally, Agatha could plan ahead. A whiff of sandalwood and sage or a glimpse of Rio’s dark hair would be enough warning to take the stairs or strike up a conversation with someone else. Anything to avoid lingering in the same space as her ex.
But today, her mind had been on other things. Agatha had gotten into the elevator, eyes glued to her phone, determined to finish an email before she reached her floor. This small task was supposed to make her feel like she was making headway despite the chaos at work, a tiny victory in a sea of unfinished business. So when someone had called out to hold the elevator, Agatha didn’t think twice. She stuck her foot out to stop the doors from closing.
Then she smelled it. Sage. Sandalwood. Rio .
Of course, the one day she wasn’t paying attention, was the day the universe decided to play a joke on her. And now, the elevator had the nerve to get stuck.
Agatha exhaled slowly, trying to focus on the smooth steel of the elevator buttons rather than the low hum of Rio’s presence. She could feel her. It was absurd, but Agatha could feel every inch of space Rio occupied, like a gravitational pull dragging her unwillingly closer.
Her eyes flicked over, just for a second. Big mistake.
Agatha took a slow, deliberate breath, forcing herself to focus on the steel buttons in front of her rather than the overwhelming presence to her right. She could feel Rio without even looking at her—could practically sense every inch of space her body occupied, like some gravitational force pulling her in.
Don’t look, Agatha told herself. But her eyes betrayed her, flicking to the side for just a second. Big mistake.
Rio stood there, leaning against the elevator wall with an easy, almost careless posture. Her jacket was unzipped, revealing a fitted tank top that clung to her frame. The soft curve of her collarbone peeked out just above the neckline, and Agatha’s eyes lingered a fraction too long on the skin there. It was ridiculous how a simple thing like a collarbone could bring back memories—memories of tracing her fingers across Rio’s skin, of late-night whispers and slow-burning touches.
Stop it.
Agatha clenched her fists around her bag straps, trying to ground herself. She shouldn’t be thinking about Rio like this. Not now. Not ever. But it was like her mind had its own agenda, pulling her back to the way Rio used to look at her, the intensity in her eyes that always seemed to break down Agatha’s walls no matter how hard she tried to keep them up.
Rio wasn’t even looking at her now. She didn’t have to. Agatha could feel the weight of her presence like a physical thing, pressing against her, making her pulse race. Her breathing hitched as she fought to steady herself, to stay in control, but she could feel the cracks forming.
“Of course,” she muttered, already feeling the heat rising in the confined space. “Stuck with you.”
Rio leaned casually against the wall, seemingly unfazed by their situation. She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a lazy smirk that made Agatha’s heart stutter. “Don’t act like you’re not thrilled.”
Agatha rolled her eyes, pushing down the flare of irritation—or maybe it was something else. “Thrilled isn’t exactly the word I’d use,” she shot back, trying to keep her voice steady, but the heat was already rising in her chest.
Rio’s smirk deepened, and for a moment, Agatha hated how much she still found it attractive—the way Rio could just… exist, so effortlessly confident. It made her skin itch. It made her want to do something, anything to break the tension building between them.
“You always were good at pretending,” Rio said casually, her voice low, like she wasn’t taking any of this seriously.
Agatha clenched her jaw, feeling the familiar spark of irritation. Rio always did this—played it cool, acted like nothing phased her, while Agatha simmered under the surface. “You think you know me so well, don’t you?”
“I know you better than you think,” Rio responded, her tone soft but teasing, like she was dangling a challenge in front of Agatha, waiting to see if she’d bite.
And bite she did.
Agatha snorted, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a real reaction. "You knew me,” Agatha corrected, her voice sharp. “Past tense.”
Something shifted in Rio’s expression, her dark eyes narrowing slightly. She pushed off the wall and took a step toward Agatha. The air between them felt charged, electric. “So that’s how it is? You’re just going to pretend it didn’t mean anything?”
Agatha’s heart pounded in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm. “Why not? You’re good at pretending too.” The words were bitter, sharper than she intended, but she couldn’t help it. Being this close to Rio—feeling her energy, her presence—it brought everything back to the surface.
Agatha felt her heart pound in her chest as Rio took a step back, head down. She wasn't sure why she had said it, she just knew that with Rio so close the tension between them was thick almost electric. She hated how much she could still feel it—feel her. She had needed space. And Rio gave it to her.
Why is she still so… Rio?
Agatha could feel her pulse racing as she sneaked another glance, and Rio was… lounging. Like she didn’t have a care in the world, leaning lazily against the wall, exuding that calm, collected energy that had always drawn Agatha in. Her hair fell in loose waves just past her shoulders, a little messy but in that way that made her look effortlessly cool. Agatha hated that it still made her stomach flip.
And those eyes—dark, focused, intense. Even when Rio wasn’t looking directly at her, Agatha could feel the weight of her presence, the way Rio’s energy filled the small space like it was built just for her.
She crossed her arms tighter, trying to fight the heat creeping up her neck. Damn it, Vidal.
“I never pretended with you,” Rio said, her voice low, steady, but there was an edge to it now, something raw.
Agatha swallowed, fighting the way her pulse quickened at the sound of Rio’s voice, at the way her presence seemed to fill the tiny elevator.
There was something raw in Rio’s voice now, something vulnerable that Agatha wasn’t used to hearing. It threw her off balance. She turned to face Rio fully, eyes locking with hers. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Rio brave as always ventured closer again, close enough now that Agatha could feel the warmth radiating off of her. “You push people away, Agatha." Rio said quietly, her voice steady but edged with something that sounded like frustration. “That’s what you do. You pushed me away.”
Agatha felt her throat tighten. She wanted to argue, to throw up her usual defenses, but the words stuck in her throat. “I didn’t—”
“You did ,” Rio cut in, her eyes softening as she took a half-step closer, her hand brushing against Agatha’s arm. The touch was light, hesitant, but it sent a jolt through Agatha’s body. “I left because you made me feel like there wasn’t another option.”
Agatha’s breath caught. The raw honesty in Rio’s voice made her heart ache, and she hated that it still affected her. This wasn’t how their conversations usually went. They fought, they lashed out, they threw verbal jabs until one of them walked away. But now, there was something different. Something deeper that neither of them could ignore. “You should have stayed,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, her defenses crumbling.
Rio’s eyes softened for the first time since the elevator had stopped, and she reached out, her fingers grazing Agatha’s arm. The touch was light, but it sent a jolt of heat through Agatha’s skin.
“I wanted to,” Rio whispered, her fingers lingering on Agatha’s arm. “I didn’t know how.”
For a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them was thick with everything unsaid, with the weight of the past pressing down on them. Agatha’s eyes flicked to Rio’s lips, and her heart pounded in her chest. She could feel the pull, the familiar gravity between them, and for once, she didn’t know if she had the strength to resist it.
Agatha’s breath caught in her throat. It would be so easy to pull away, to end this conversation before it went too far, before the floodgates opened. But instead, she stood there, frozen in place, her body betraying her mind. “Why are you saying all this now?” Agatha asked, her voice trembling with frustration, fear, and something else—something deeper that she didn’t want to name.
“Because I’m tired of pretending,” Rio said, her hand trailing down Agatha’s arm, her touch soft, almost hesitant. “And because we never really ended, did we?”
Agatha opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. She could feel her heart racing, her pulse quickening as Rio’s touch lingered, as the space between them seemed to close in.
God, why does she still have this effect on me? Agatha’s mind was spinning, her body betraying her as it leaned just a fraction closer to Rio.
Rio was having her own internal battle. Every time Agatha moved, even the slightest shift, it sent a ripple of awareness through her. The coat that hid most of Agatha’s figure didn’t do enough. She’s still so damn magnetic, Rio thought, watching the way Agatha's lips quirked in that subtle, sarcastic way she always had when she was annoyed—or trying not to smile.
For a second, their eyes met. Just a flicker. But it was enough to send Rio’s heart racing. She knows.
Agatha quickly turned away, but Rio had seen it—there was something still there, something burning just beneath the surface. Her eyes drifted down to the curve of Agatha’s neck, where her pulse was visible, quickening. Rio clenched her jaw, fighting the temptation to step closer, to close the gap between them.
Focus, Rio told herself. But it was impossible. Every small movement Agatha made, every breath she took, seemed to pull Rio in like a magnet. She wanted to reach out, wanted to touch, wanted to—
Rio’s hand slid to Agatha’s waist, her grip firm but careful, like she was waiting for permission to go further. Agatha’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. “This is a bad idea,” she muttered, but her voice lacked conviction.
Rio’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “Probably.”
Agatha’s hands moved on their own, finding Rio’s shirt and curling into the fabric, tugging her closer. “You’re infuriating.”
“I know,” Rio murmured, her lips dangerously close to Agatha’s, her breath warm against her skin. “But you like it.”
Agatha’s eyes fluttered shut for a brief second, her grip tightening on Rio’s shirt. She could feel the tension vibrating between them, could feel how close they were to crossing a line they hadn’t crossed in a long time. “You always think you know what I want,” she whispered, her voice shaking slightly.
Rio’s fingers slid under the hem of Agatha’s shirt, brushing her skin in a way that made Agatha shiver. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Agatha’s breath caught in her throat, her body trembling with the weight of everything unsaid. She hated how Rio could still do this to her, still make her feel so raw, so exposed. “Damn you,” she muttered, pulling Rio’s face to hers, their lips crashing together in a kiss that was more fire than anything else.
Rio responded immediately, her grip on Agatha tightening as their bodies collided, years of unresolved tension bursting to the surface. The kiss was hard, almost punishing, a reflection of everything they hadn’t said, hadn’t done.
Agatha’s hands moved to Rio’s jacket, shoving it off her shoulders in one swift motion, the fabric hitting the floor with a soft thud. Rio’s hands moved in tandem, pushing up Agatha’s shirt as their lips and teeth clashed, a battle for control neither of them wanted to lose.
But it wasn’t just heat—beneath the fire, there was something tender, something that made Agatha’s heart ache even as she pressed closer to Rio, desperate for more. Rio’s hands slid up her back, pulling her closer, their bodies pressed so tightly together it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.
Agatha broke the kiss for just a second, her chest heaving as she stared into Rio’s eyes, the intensity between them thick enough to choke on. “This doesn’t mean anything,” she lied, her voice breathless but edged with venom, desperate to hold on to some kind of control.
Rio smirked, her thumb brushing Agatha’s jaw. “Sure it doesn’t.”
Agatha growled in frustration, yanking Rio back into the kiss, their lips crashing together with more force this time, more need. The layers—both physical and emotional—were being stripped away, and Agatha hated how much she wanted it, how much she needed it.
Rio’s hands roamed over her body, and Agatha’s breath hitched at the feeling of her touch, soft but firm, knowing exactly where to go, how to make her unravel. And as the heat built between them, as their bodies moved together in a way that felt both familiar and foreign, Agatha realized that no matter how much venom they spat at each other, no matter how much they fought, there was always something deeper beneath the surface. Something that couldn’t be ignored.
When they finally broke apart, both of them breathless and disheveled, Agatha’s shirt halfway off and Rio’s lips swollen from their bruising kisses, the silence was thick with everything unsaid.
Agatha leaned her forehead against Rio’s, her eyes closing as she caught her breath. “I still hate you.”
Rio’s lips curved into a smile, her voice soft but teasing. “No, you don’t.”
Agatha exhaled shakily, her hands still gripping Rio’s shoulders. “Maybe not,” she whispered.