Title: These Dreams
Fandom: 07-Ghost
Pairing(s): Ayanami and Hyuuga
Warnings: Implied hints of BL.
Synopsis: In his exhaustion, Ayanami dreams.
Sometimes he saw memories in his sleep. Flickering images dancing behind his eyelids, never leaving him alone even in the darkest hours of the night.
He would never tell anyone how exhaustive these dreams were. In the early hours of morning, he would blink sleep away from his violet eyes and look into the mirror, constantly telling himself that the exhaustion was only in his mind.
Only in his mind.
Ayanami mentally repeated that to himself, his eyes focussing on a neatly drafted letter sitting on his desk. The office was relatively empty today, with the majority of the Black Hawks either pursuing a matter of relative importance, or, in the case of one bespectacled Major, loafing off. The sky had already started to darken, and many of those who would have been hurrying down the corridors were long gone.
He had come back to retrieve these papers, it wouldn't take long, it was merely a task of signing and acknowledging new staff and the reassignments of a few missions.
It wouldn't take long.
Taking a seat behind his desk, Ayanami extracted a file from the shelf beside his table, setting it down on the dark wooden surface. His slender, gloved fingers picked up a pen as his eyes went over each line meticulously.
The true extent of his exhaustion didn't hit him, not until those crystal violet orbs slid closed and the pen slipped from his fingers, landing on the table with a dull clatter.
* * *
The office was unexpectedly silent, Hyuuga mused, quietly pushing open the door. Lights, once dimmed, came to life once again, blossoming with light as the dark-glassed man stepped into the room.
No-one home.
Out of a corner of his eye, he caught sight of the file left open on Ayanami's desk, and the pen lying all by it's lonesome out on the mahogany table. His eyes narrowed, dark crimson hidden behind an ebony shield. It was not like Aya-tan to leave things scattered on his desk, let alone a file lying open.
Someone else might have come in and rummaged through the Chief of Staff's documents.
Hyuuga stepped towards the table, his eyes on the chair. It was turned away from him, but he was still cautious. His movements were almost cat-like, that lean body moved like a panther on the prowl, one hand reaching for the steel blades which hung at his side.
Then, he stopped, straightening up and letting his hand drop from the nearly-unsheathed katanas at his side.
Seated in the chair, head slumped forward onto his chest, was the Chief of Staff, obviously fast asleep. The silver-haired man looked completely worn out, as if he hadn't slept for days. Hyuuga had not noticed at first, but there had been dark marks under his superior's eyes.
Hyuuga blinked.
It was rare, no, completely unheard of for anyone to see Aya-tan asleep. The man was a proud man, he refused to allow anyone to see anything which could have been judged as a weakness. He would have carried the weight of the world and still not have said a thing, because Aya-tan was simply that proud a man.
"Aya-tan...?"
There was no response.
Hyuuga dropped into a crouch before the now-sleeping Chief of Staff. Ayanami had always seemed so distant, like a far-off star shimmering violet, untouchable and unbreakable. But now, he seemed like everyone else, mortal, exhausted and asleep in a way that reminded Hyuuga just how human Ayanami was.
Despite the truth of his identity buried within...
Callused fingers gently brushed against Ayanami's cheek. His skin felt warm, almost feverish. Was he sick? Hyuuga shook his head, knowing full well that the man fast asleep before him would never admit exhaustion or illness. Frigid ice dyed violet given the form of a man.
He looked beautiful, now that Hyuuga had the time to study his superior's features. His fingers slipped down, callused tips gently brushing over pale lips.
Ayanami did not wake. Hyuuga wondered what was the extent of his exhaustion, for a man usually so alert to be completely lost in so deep a slumber that even physical contact failed to wake him.
On an impulse, he leaned forward, pressing his own lips against Ayanami's. His lips tasted of ice and snow, of death and dried blood. And yet under all the cold promise of death his lips tasted of, there was the faint scent of humanity.
Hyuuga smiled slightly as he pulled away, remembering the promise he had made to the man now asleep in the chair. Quietly, he rose to his feet, rubbing the back of his head as he glanced down at his superior.
"You shouldn't sleep here, Aya-tan. Others could easily find you."
His only answer was silence.
* * *
That same dream again.
Watching him fall to the ground, being so many steps away and not being able to do anything, having to reign emotions which ran wild with every passing second. Even with his power and that forbidden dark magic flowing in his veins, he couldn't do anything. Could not do anything to give away the frigid facade he had built around himself.
Ayanami had watched him die. He had been there, gripping his blood-stained glove, forcing himself to remain calm, to remain emotionless.
Could not show any shred of emotion, not even to the only one he had cared about.
Even at the funeral, he had been the most distant, merely nodding and not saying a word when other officers spoke to him. Ayanami pressed on, constantly telling himself that one death could not affect him, but it had. His death, his blood, it all remained on his own hands. His own bloodstained hands.
Crimson reflected in crystal violet as the Chief of Staff awoke with a jolt.
Instinct spoke to him, human, it said, and his own training kicked in. A gloved hand had already reached out before his eyes opened, red and black glowing at his fingertips as that destructive, forbidden art encircled the throat of whom he had perceived instinctually to be an intruder and was preparing to decapacitate the threat...
Until he caught sight of an all-too-familiar charming smile, crimson hooded by tinted black, smiling at him. For a moment, he wavered, a part of the dream still lingering in his mind.
"Aya-tan~ What are you doing?"
The threatening glow remained there for a fraction longer, before it dissipated into thin air.
"Hyuuga."
The smile on the Major's face only widened. The fact that he had come exceedingly close to having his head torn off did not seem to perturb him.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Watching you, Aya-tan."
The gloved hand dropped back, resting on the armrest of the chair the Chief of Staff was sitting in. There was no reason for Hyuuga to have come back to the office. A quick glance to the clock on the wall revealed the time, and a slight unease; he had been asleep for an hour at least.
One hour in a vulnerable location, his weakness exposed.
"You aren't sleeping again, are you?"
Ayanami did not answer. A quick scan of the desk showed that the Major had put away the file and tidied the desk while he had been asleep.
"How long have you been here?"
"What did you dream about?"
Watching Ayanami uncurl his body from the confines of the chair was almost as if watching a large cat awaken from slumber to stalk unsuspecting prey, but the air of intimidation had ceased working on Hyuuga a long time ago.
"It's none of your concern."
Cold as always. It had been a few days since the incident at the seventh district, but Ayanami had only opened up just a small fraction.
Gloved fingers picked up the hat that had fallen carelessly onto the table, setting it back over silver hair as he rose from his chair. There was no indication of that which had shaken him in the brief moment of vulnerability Hyuuga had seen, once again buried under layers of frigid ice, the same chilly shield which seemed to guard Ayanami.
Hyuuga watched as Ayanami rose to his feet, obviously evading the questions.
"You're running again."
He didn't expect that phrase to provoke any reaction, Ayanami's control was almost perfect. A brow arched slightly, violet crystals narrowing just the slightest, but beyond that, there was nothing. Almost as if speaking to an ice sculpture.
"Everyone does."
His swift strides carried him towards the door, with Hyuuga on his heels. The taller man had the advantage, his strides carrying his lean body forwards, gaining on Ayanami easily despite him having had a headstart. Callused hands caught hold of his superior's wrist, and pulled him back. An almost frustrated growl escaped Ayanami's throat, one which was cut off by Hyuuga pushing him roughly against the wall.
If looks could kill, Hyuuga would probably have been pinned full of holes. Ayanami was already glaring daggers at his subordinate, despite the man being a few inches taller than him, and the cause of him being pinned against the wall.
"I told you, didn't I? I'd protect you."
Slender, gloved fingers came to rest against Hyuuga's chest, shoving him away with a strength that belied Ayanami's slightly smaller frame. Hyuuga caught himself in time, a grin stretching across his face. A flash of crimson emerged from under his shades, watching Ayanami almost predatorily.
"If it comes to that."
It was the only answer Hyuuga would get from his icy superior. That, and a mere smile. But that smile seemed to satisfy Hyuuga, and he stepped back, still grinning, raising his hands in mock defeat and releasing his grip on Ayanami.
The man smirked a little, rubbing his wrist slightly, before stepping out, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Hyuuga only grinned some more, turning to follow his superior out of the already empty office.
END