18-May-2001
Title: Fragmentary
Archive: GWA
Author: Dan
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: RxH/HxR, implied/refered to 2+1/1+2, 3+4/4+3
Timeline: After the series, happy bits of the last ep did not happen. Trieze &Zechs stay dead.
Warnings: YURI!!! <happy dances> FINALLY! shonen ai.
Angsty, bad psychobabbly by yours truly
Disclaimer: not mine, don't sue.
I don't know why people are so interested in the dreams of soldiers. People are so bloody curious. I think it's a rather morbid curiosity. People have asked me: shrinks, guys trying to pick me up, people who really haven't thought about the question. I think if I ever told them what I really dream about, they'd run screaming. Hell, I know I would.
Tonight is one of the bad nights. One of the nights where I wake up trying to swallow air like it was water, my hair sticking to my face with sweat, the sheets tangled and torn around my limbs. It's not pretty.
Sometimes I dream that I killed Duo instead of rescuing him. I dream that I put a bullet between those laughing eyes and watch the life drain away, and feel nothing. I dream that I destroy all that energy and feel absolutely nothing. I dream that I act the way I should have, if OZ's training had really sunk in. The dreams about what could have happened are always worse than the dreams about what did happen. Yeah, being caught by OZ after I turned traitor wasn't much fun, but it could have been a helluva lot worse.
Tonight I dreamed I killed Relena. We're talking on the Libra, she tells me her name with that proud dignity, and I kill her. I don't know why, but I kill her just the same. Because I'm there and I can. That's the dream that makes me scream until I can't talk the next morning. I sit very, very still on my bed, listening to myself breathe slowly in the darkness. I wait until my night vision clears, and I can see the furniture, so neatly arranged. I ignore the light switch as I walk through the room. I've done this so many times that I don't need it.
Relena's already sitting in our combination kitchen/dining room/living room. She looks up at me, a little startled. Her hair is loose about her face like a gold curtain, hiding everything except those impossibly wide blue eyes. She holds a small glass of amber liquid in a grip so tight her knuckles have gone white. Guess I'm not the only one who's been having nightmares.
She doesn't say anything as I stumble into the kitchen, and fumble for a glass. We still aren't entirely comfortable with each other, not yet. I grab the bottle and the glass, and make my way to sit down next to her on the big leather couch that dominates our otherwise spartan apartment.
"Hey," I say. I'm a little more interested in downing the two fingers of brandy than I am in talking.
The corner of Relena's mouth twitches as she watches me. "Good evening."
Even at three in the morning she's still perfectly polite. She uses that politeness like armor to keep everyone out. She uses it the same way Duo uses humor. There's something there behind that mask that you can't quite touch. She sighs a little and arches her back, cat like. Her long wheat-colored hair spills across the arm of the couch, and I find myself staring. I wonder when she started affecting me like that.
"Why are you up?" I ask to cover my sudden fascination with the long line of her stomach.
"Couldn't sleep," she says, and shrugs one slender shoulder. We'd been living together ever since I got out of the hospital, so that would make it about three weeks; but this is a first. We've both had nightmares, everyone does, but we've never talked about them. Now the subject hangs between us like a challenge neither one of us wants to take.
"Me neither," I reply, swirling the brandy gently, just to watch it move in the glass. I don't really want to drink it; just holding it is enough.
She leans back against the arm of the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "Nightmares?"
"Yeah." I down some of the liquid, and sigh as it hits the back of my throat. It's good brandy.
"'And I had a dream with your face in it/that scares me awake..." she says quietly, and then laughs as she sits up. "Strange what you remember. I can't remember the color of my brother's eyes, but I can remember a lyric from some old song."
The lyric makes my shoulders tense. It's a little too close to my nightmare. I shrug nonchalantly. "It's not like you knew your brother all that well."
She laughs, and it makes something inside me ache, like I'd opened an old wound. Hell, maybe I had. "We met maybe three times that I can remember, but I'm supposed to mourn him." Relena stares at the glass like it would give her the answers. "And maybe I do, but it's more like I mourn the idea of a brother, not him."
I pat her back awkwardly, unsure of what I should be doing. She sounds so lost, so uncertain that it's disconcerting. I've never heard Relena sound apprehensive about anything. She's always known what she's doing, or at least looked like it. Now I think I'm getting to see exactly how much it costs her to put up that front. "Can't tell you which one is worse. I can't remember having a family at all."
She looks at me for a moment. "Must have been lonely."
I shrug. "Mostly it was just hungry."
"You must think I'm pretty pathetic to be whining like this when I was brought up in the lap of luxury." The self-disgust was rich in her tone. I think about her statement for a while before trying to find an answer.
"No, you had a lot of shit happen to you," I say it slow, trying to figure it out for myself. "Most of it harder because you had it so easy before, but you had more expectations put on you than any of us. Just because you were born with a certain name, you were supposed to bring peace to a people who had no real idea what it was. I don't think you had it easy. Maybe not as physically hard, but not easy."
She listens to me for a while, and then nods. "Thanks."
I shrug. "If you martyr yourself, then I'll think you're damned pathetic."
That makes her laugh. A real laugh, the first I've ever heard from her. It's bright and clear like sunlight after a thunderstorm. "Don't worry. There aren't any causes left for me to martyr myself for."
I look at her a little hard, and she shrugs. "You can't tell me that you haven't thought of it. Thought about just letting go of everything."
The scary thing is that I have thought about it. I think we all have. It's hard not to, when you wake up in the morning and wonder what the point of it all is, when all you want to do is roll over and go back to sleep. Sometimes it feels like we packed so much into too short a time frame, so there's nothing left but ashes because we burned too high and too bright. "Thought about it."
She nods. "And then I remember that it can't be like this all the time."
"It can be worse," I say, and she gives me an exasperated look. I shrug unrepentantly. "Is that what your nightmare was about?"
Relena's silent for so long that I don't think she's going to answer, but she does. "No. The dream I had doesn't make any real sense. I dream that I have this ball, this perfect ball, and I put it on a shelf to keep it protected. But every time I put it up there, it falls and shatters into a million shining pieces. So I put them back together again, but I can never make everything fit the way they should.... I know it sounds stupid, but I _had_ to put that ball back together...."
"You don't have to be Jung to figure that one out," I say.
She looks out the sliding glass doors that lead to our balcony for a long while. "No," she says, "you don't."
I stumble into the kitchen the next morning, bleary-eyed and monosyllabic. Relena hands me a cup of coffee, and it takes me a moment to process what it is. She's sitting at one of the high stools that stand next to the kitchen counter; she watches me without comment. A cup of coffee sits next to her with a folded paper. Six o'clock in the morning, and she looks alert, competent, and perfectly calm. It just isn't fair.
"Drink it," she says. I just look at her blankly. "The coffee, moron; drink it."
I look down at the cup, take a deep swallow, and choke. Relena pounds me on the back and I glare at her. "This isn't even liquid!"
"I thought Germans liked strong coffee," she says with mock confusion.
I stick my tongue out at her, and finish off the rest of the coffee. Now I know why she looks so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed; this stuff has enough kick to start a dead battery.
"Hurry up," she admonishes me lightly, not really paying attention as she returns to her paper. "We shouldn't be late twice in a row. Or the Lady will get on our case."
I make a face. "Why the hell we have to take classes in Japan, where they have class on Saturday, is beyond me."
Relena just shrugs her shoulder eloquently, and picks up her bag. "Could be worse?"
"How so?"
"We could be at a Catholic school with asmonitions against homosexuality and other carnal sins," she says blandly, and I nearly choke on my coffee again as I try to laugh and swallow at the same time.
"Could you see someone telling Heero that? Hell, someone telling Quatre?" I laugh so hard I have to hold myself up.
"Having Quatre act as if he were affected by the Zero System would go counter to the Lady's plans," Relena agrees, and the corner of her full lips quirk. I want to dance with joy. It's the first time that she's willingly mentioned Heero's name, and the fact that she can joke about him.... I grin at her, and she points to my back. "Hurry up."
"Going, I'm going," I mutter.
She holds the door open as I try to straighten my socks and put my shoes on at the same time: a neat trick, let me tell you. When I walk by her to get out, she stops me.
"Thank you," she says, and I know it's not for laughing at the lame joke.
"Hey, no worries," I say, and she smiles softly.
"You owe me a bedtime story next time," she says.
"All the ones I know would give you nightmares," I tell her, and she shrugs as if to say 'and the difference would be?'
Saturdays are our short days at school, and I'm damned if I know why they even bother with them at all. None of us pays any attention, and the teachers don't even bother with trying to put on a show of forcing us to. Everyone just wants the day to be over. Maybe that's why it drags on and on the way it does, because we are all praying so hard for it to be over. Relena almost manages to sneak out of the mayhem that our class has degenerated into without me noticing, but the flick of her dark blonde hair catches my attention as she quietly leaves the room. Duo watches me watch her leave, and then raises one eyebrow in a silent question. I shake my head. I have no idea what might have set her off, but damage control might be a good idea. I nod to Duo, grab my bag, and stalk after her. The teacher blinks at me in surprise when I ask permission to leave early. A soft shy smile blooms over his sharp features when he nods. I'm feeling nice today, so sue me.
Relena likes high places. Why, I'm not real sure, but she likes to be above things so she can see everything coming. That probably says something, but I've never bothered with trying to figure out exactly what. I make my way up to the roof of the school, taking the steps two at a time. After bounding up seven flights of stairs, I'm a little breathless. I throw open the door to the roof, and then lean against it, panting.
Relena lies dead center on the roof, spread-eagle, staring up at the cloudless sky. I blink at the aching blue of the sky and shake my head: still feels weird seeing sky. She's got her cardigan bunched under her head like a pillow. Her white school shirt is unbuttoned at the cuffs and pushed up to her elbows. One arm lies on her stomach; the other is thrown out across the roof. I can see the crisp white of her bra peeking out from under her partially unbuttoned shirt. All in all, it looks like she's been taking a nap. She sits up slowly, head rolling up, spilling her hair across her chest, and then blinks deep blue eyes at me.
"Where's the fire?" she asks in what might be an amused tone.
For a half second, I'm completely and utterly incapable of rational thought, as a wave of lust hits me so hard it makes me shudder. I know she sees it by the way her eyes widen a fraction, her pupils dilate, and her mouth opens just a little as if to ask a question that won't come. I wonder if I should just play it off and pray it doesn't set up a million unspoken, never asked questions between us, or if I should just walk over and kiss the life out of her. I never was one for living in regret.
She doesn't get up as I walk across the open roof to her. The ever-present wind ruffles my still-short hair and makes my skirt whip around my thighs. I stop in front of her and just look down, enjoying the view. Damn, but she's nice to look at. I can see the long arch of her neck and the swell of her breasts as she tilts her head to look up at me. There's something akin to a challenge in her expression, but her eyes are so afraid. Defiance and a little bit of hesitation have always been something of an aphrodisiac for me.
I kneel next to her, and she licks her lips unconsciously. It's a delicious gesture. There are so many emotions warring in those cerulean eyes, as I reach out to cup her face, that I know I must have managed to sneak under one of those carefully constructed walls.
"Trust me," I whisper to her.
She nods a little, a gesture I feel rather than see, but it's all that I need. I watch as her eyes flutter shut in sweet nervousness. I watch as her chest lifts with her anticipatory breath when I lean down to her, still kneeling above her. I keep watching her as I gently, slowly press my lips chastely to hers, my hands still cupping her face. Then I'm lost in the taste of her, the feel of her.
She moans a little, opening her lips just a little, and I take shameless advantage of the opportunity. Relena doesn't resist as I deepen the kiss. The way her tongue delicately, tentatively touches mine makes me shudder. I let my hands slide away from her face, down her shoulders, to hold her lightly. Relena goes up to her knees, so she's above me, and brings her hands up to trace small circles on my back. I break the kiss reluctantly.
Relena's eyes are heavy and dark, her cheeks flushed, and her mouth a little swollen from our kiss. She looks pleased, hesitant, and expectant all at once. We kneel together on the hot concrete roof, as the humid wind tousles our hair, just watching each other. Neither of us expected that kiss. Neither of us has been looking for a serious relationship. But I want her, and in a rather immediate sense.
I reach ups and gently slowly undo two more buttons. Her eyes widen, but she makes no move to stop me. I let my fingers drift across her smooth skin. Relena shudders at the touch, and I sigh. The only other person I have ever wanted with this same burning need was Duo, and even that doesn't really touch what I'm feeling now. Lust, need, pure desire, combine with the torturous heat of the midday Tokyo sun on the exposed concrete makes my skin unbearably sensitive to the lazy wind, to Relena's clutching gingers. And I /want/ so badly that it overrides everything else. A Leo could land next to us and I wouldn't care as long as I could touch her.
I push the cloth out of the way with forced control. I'm not sure how far Relena's gone, much less with another girl, but I'm positive that if she told me 'no' right now it would probably kill me. I'd beg if she asked me to. Right now, I'd crawl over glass just to touch her skin, and I don't know how she managed to get to me like this.
"Please...." The word tumbles out of my mouth like a moan, is ripped from my throat like a growl. "Ah, God, please...."
Relena laughs lowly as I lower my mouth to her bared skin. I taste the faint salt, smell the hint of lilac soap, hear her shaky intake of breathe, and I want more.
The rough concrete bruises and abrades my knees as I lean towards Relena; the faint whisper of pain makes the sensation of her smooth skin against my lips more intense. I wrap one arm around her waist, my hand resting on her hips, while the other one goes up to bare more of her skin. She moans, and arches her back as if offering me the swell of her breasts. I'm more than happy to accept the offer. I tug down her plain cotton bra to expose her nipple. She makes a small whimpering sound as I blow on it teasingly. I lick it with a quick swipe of my tongue, and her fingers tighten on my arms. "Hilde!" My name comes out as an exclamatory growl, her fingers squeezing down on my arms hard enough to leave bruises. I laugh, and it's a dark one full of promises that can't be mentioned in mixed company.
I roll one nipple between my fingers while bringing the other one into my mouth. I scrape it lightly with my teeth, and Relena sags against my arm that is wrapped around her waist. I'm vaguely aware of her hands drifting lower to clench in my skirt. I love the weight of her breasts, warm and soft, in my hands. I nip at her neck almost affectionately. Relena sinks backwards, and I move with her as she lies back against the sun-scorched concrete.
I stay above her on my hands and knees, leaving one knee between hers. Relena moves sinuously to straighten her legs, and I'm very much aware of how long they are. She runs her hands up the backs my legs to rest lightly on my thighs, and I sigh. She smiles shyly as she gently kneads the muscles of my upper thighs.
The contrasting sensations of the rough, hot concrete against my palms and knees, and Relena's cool hands running smoothly over the backs my thighs, makes me shudder. I lower my head to kiss her, and the kiss is more demanding than I intended it to be. Relena keeps her eyes open and fixed on mine. If there were a way to smirk and kiss someone at the same time, I swear she's doing it. Then her fingers slip underneath my skirt, making my gasp. There's a question in her eyes as she hesitates. I kiss her again, nipping at her lips. I need her to touch me....
Her fingers slip underneath my plain cotton underwear and gently touches the sensitive inner folds. "Relena...."
Her fingers stop, and I want to cry.
"Touch me..." My cry is strangled, tormented. I need her tin ways I don't have the words for.
Her eyes are wide and wondering as she explores me, and it feels like she's laying all of me bare for her examination. I blush shyly as her eyes seem to devour my every expression. In her face I can see her thoughts. I can see that she thinks I'm beautiful, and I'm humbled.
Her fingers move inside me, and brush the place that makes my muscles quiver, my nerves whimper, and my mind freeze. I feel her body rise to meet mine, and I sag against her. Relena kisses me as if she would climb into my mouth, I wrap my arms loosely around her neck as I shudder and moan, helpless in the face of her touch--knowing that if she stopped, I'd never be able to pick up the pieces.
The pressure of my pleasure builds until all I can do is pant desperately, my hands tangled in her silky hair. I know she's kissing my neck, my face, fascinated with everything I do. It feels like a fire and a tension, spreading from nerve-ending to nerve-ending, and I can't get enough air to breathe; it feels like the air is water and I'm drowning. Then the release comes, like a violent wave tossing me helpless onto a foreign shore. I drag in air like a swimmer breaking free of the ocean.
Relena kisses my neck, my exposed chest, whispering my name as I shudder against her. I'm not sure how I ended up being the seduced, but true lust cuts both ways, I guess. She cradles me gently against her with one arm, using the other to support the weight of both of us. I shift my weight backwards, away from her, but I keep my fingers tangled with hers.
I smile at her, and she returns it with a small quirk of her lips. I raise her hand to my lips, and she watches me with an indulgently amused expression. I kiss her fingertips, her first and second knuckles, and then I very deliberately lick the sensitive skin between her fingers. Her eyes widen a little. I started this little interlude as the seducer, and I intend to end it that way. I'm not going to let Relena safely control this one.
I pull her to me and she comes reluctantly, as if she knows that she's going to have to relinquish some of her precious control, drop her walls. I'm going to demand that she does.
She kneels above me, her long hair tumbling down like a curtain to enclose this moment between the two of us, even though we're sitting in the middle of an open roof in the glaring sunlight. I reach up and undo those two fussy little braids, and she scowls a little. I smile sweetly at her. I'm taking away the symbols of her control, claiming them. I pull her face to mine with my hands fisted in her hair.
"You owe me a moan," I whisper to her, my voice sounding breathy in anticipation. I want very much to see what's under that layer of chilled politeness, that diplomatic detachment.
She smirks at me, but there's a sweet nervousness in her eyes; those deep blue eyes watch my every movement with a tension that I can almost touch. I don't think that Relena has surrendered to anyone. She may have been controlled, manipulated, but that core of what makes Relena what she is has never been touched. I kiss her chin, the long line of her neck and bared shoulders, and she sways against me. She steadies herself by planting her knees on either side of mine. I pull her shirt out from her skirt and arch up to kiss the line from her neck to her stomach. The sun heats her skin where it's exposed deliciously. I whisper to Relena between kisses.
"There is a power in surrender," I whisper, and then kiss the silky skin of her upper chest. She tastes slightly salty from the pressing heat. The taste makes me smile.
"In letting go, you give the greatest gift," I tell her, kissing the smooth valley between her breasts. Her hands clutch at my shoulders and hair as I press her against me with both hands.
"You bring your chosen into yourself." I kiss the delicate place where her breastbone ends, and the sensitive skin of the undersides of her breasts.
"You become the one to take your chosen's breath away." I kiss the ticklish skin of her stomach, and cannot resist giving it a quick lick that makes her giggle.
"Surrender is a power to be given on your own terms," I state as I look up at her, sitting back on my haunches. Her cheeks are flushed, her breath quick, but not rushed; she is a vision before me.
While she was trying to process what I had been saying I decide to rattle her a little more. What can I say? She's cute when she's flustered, and you don't see that much, if at all. I gently raise her skirt, grinning at the phrase and the connotations it brings to mind. I giver her pale upper thigh one long lick, and she whimpers, her hands fisting in my hair. I slip one hand under the band of her pale panties, while bringing the other to the middle of her hack to hold her.
Women are so much more sensitive than men. So many more places to touch to make the gasp, to kiss to make them moan, to caress to make them beg. Exploring Relena's sweetly trembling body is a joy. The harsh light makes her skin seem paler, smoother, in contrast to the pitted black concrete on which we kneel.
"Hilde..." Relena moans as she leans back against my restraining hand, her hands desperate for a place to hold on. They move through my hair, touch my shoulders, and then run up the length of her arching body.
I smile up at her sweetly as my fingers find the place that makes her throw her head back, her face up to the pitiless sun. So perfect, so pure in that moment of quivering release. Despite all she's seen, all she's said and done, she is still so pure. Her body shivers, and her breath goes out in one ragged sigh. I go up on my knees to hold her steady. She collapses against me, but I can't hold our combined weight; my own limbs still liquid with afterglow.
We tumble to the concrete, adding to the bruises we've already gotten from clutching fingers. Relena rolls onto her side to look at me, her face cushioned by her hand. I roll to face her, resting my head on my outstretched arm. Her eyes close slowly while her breathing evens out once again, but she's smiling. I reach out to lay my hand on her side and she intertwines her fingers with mine. We lay on the warmed concrete more comfortable than we should be for a long time. Long enough for the shadows of the taller buildings to creep towards us stealthily.
"Relena," I finally ask. "Did I interrupt your nap?"
"What?" she says with mock innocence, her eyes finally opening. "You mean I'm not still dreaming?"
End Part 2
(:./dan/fragment2)
