Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Nomad & the World Eaters
Dream Snippet 6
…
Hot damn.
The kid packed some nice equipment.
That was the first thought Gig had during their first days together when she suddenly made a turn for that glorious bathroom door. Back when soul bunking was still spanking, and he was just happy to be out of that godforsaken cave. He was in that hole for two hundred frickin years and the damn hag didn't even have the common decency to ask if he maybe wanted to take a dip in the hot springs a damn two minute walk away—he didn't even know they had a hot springs!—but he had to thank whatever god that wasn't Haephnes out there that he'd been put into the body of a kid. No, that sounded all kinds of wrong. Girl, was a better word.
Now, the kid wasn't prudish by any means. She kept a good portion of her equipment out on display every day for all to see, admire, and envy. And a lot of them did, too. Gig still remembered what it was like feeling a dude slink his eyes over his kinda-body. Unpleasant, that's what. He wanted to gouge the guy's eyes out—he certainly hadn't been quiet about it.
But that was the thing when it came to her normal wear and public settings, his mind forewent the small details in favor of food and thoughts of how much he really wanted to turn a few highly annoying Sepp's into patties. There was just so many things to be distracted by. And seeing as how he'd been in isolation for so long, he was easily distracted.
But right now, that was far from the case.
They were in some little bitch's hotpod farm for reasons beyond reason—but hey, at least he got to eat his fill—and the kid had been overthinking. Like she always did with matters that she couldn't really change. It was dumb and overbearing and absolutely stupid of her, but still, he'd said some words just for the sake of not feeling the buzz of her thoughts and for his own sanity. He needed sleep, was what he told himself. But not four hours later, she was already up and then he was up, and they found themselves by a river.
They'd been stuck together for a pretty long time now, and the discomfort she'd initially felt while undressing in front of him had quickly gone during a particularly disgusting thing every month that Gig liked to call the-worst-bloodfest-in-history. But still, even if he saw them every day, saw the way they friggin jiggled while fighting, it still didn't keep him from uttering a curse in his mind when she looked down at the clear water and gave him a view of everything. That added moonlight was certainly a nice touch. And he could feel her running calloused hands through the water and over—somehow—soft skin. Every inch of him was on fire, despite the cool air.
Not that he'd ever admit that out loud or within their shared consciousness—at least he hoped he hadn't—he usually thought it while she was sleeping.
That is, until now.
Mother of god.
Did this kid have no sense of self-preservation?
He was trapped in her body, but he was still a man damnit! He kind of missed her initial wariness because this was just all sorts of wrong. Not to mention that every bath now felt like some kind of sick self-torture session. Fuck, he was going soft. Not the way he wanted to right now either. If that was even possible. How did sex even work like this anyway? Hell, would he be forced to visual masturbation for the rest of his life. Because, damn. If that was the case, then he needed to convince the kid to somehow get them both off. Everyone and everything be damned if his nuts went numb—
Where and when in Drazil's name did you get that bar of soap?
Good god, he hoped she wasn't actually thinking of using the damn thing. Oh, she was. Of course she friggin was. Well, at least don't rub ther—Fuck.
The kid suddenly jolted.
Shit, did she hear his thoughts?
"Gig?" she called and he swore his heart spasmed. His mind quickly went to his favorite and most often used defense mechanism. Hostility.
"What?" he replied snippily, swallowing and hating the way her body moved when he did. Now she definitely knew something was up.
"Your mind is buzzing," she said, rubbing her thumb between her eyebrows in an effort to erase the lump that had settled there. Seemed he was slowly gaining more control. Even his slightest mannerisms could affect her now. If he pushed for it, he'd even be able to move around while she slept. Maybe even while she didn't.
Buuuut… he didn't want to take over.
Not just yet.
He was having a lot of fun right now.
Gig promptly shoved that realization into the farthest corner of his mind, and instead focused on the way she stared at her reflection in the water. It wasn't hard. Only she stared back, of course. But damn, did he love it when she did that. It was as if she were actually talking to him since he got an actual clear view of her as a separate person. Not just a downward assessment, and Gig easily defended his initial statement at the eyeful he received.
Hot damn. The kid packed some nice equipment.
Friggin majestic, really. Or was that just him? He doubted it.
"Well, duh!" he finally said. "Figure all that out on your own, did ya?"
"What are you thinking about?" she asked.
"Don't be nosy, kid." He would have rolled his eyes if he could, and tried it just in case. To no avail. Seemed his control was an erratic thing. "Just hurry up and finish your bath. I'm tired of seeing this sack of fat in all its not so impressive glory."
She wasn't deterred by his words. Not even a little put off. Gig cursed in his mind, not liking the fact that he was losing his edge. Or was she just this used to him? Not that it mattered, since he didn't like that either. Not exactly.
"What should we do after?" she asked. "Everyone's still asleep."
"Jack some of that little bitch's hotpods? Shank someone? Overthrow those snobby merchant gods? Hell, I reaaalllyyy don't care. Just don't wake that stupid cow. I'm already tired enough because you don't seem to know the meaning of a good night's sleep. I mean, c'mon! Are you actually a kid? Want Uncie Gig to sing you a lullaby?"
"Spare me your singing voice."
"Ha! Tough luck, kid! Remember—you and I are one mind, one body. Forever."
She sighed, washing off the last remnants of soap. And there they went again. All jiggly and shiny and begging to be squeezed.
"Sonuva…!" He swallowed the curse as her hand moved to rub a particularly soapy area over her collar.
Gig tried to hold onto what was left of his sanity—if there was any to begin with—but he was sure there was, judging from the company they kept. The kid seriously needed some better friends or at least dominate some more stable people. Preferably both. The stupid cow was as the title implied—not friggin sound. Dio wasn't exactly mentally there. And he didn't even want to think about that other dumbass Sepp or any of those other shitheads. It was a problem when he could be considered the sane one in a group.
As the kid finally got dressed, strapping on her arm guards and the final touches of her armor, they eventually went with none of the things he'd suggested.
Because some freak dropped out of the blue, donning a large H on his forehead.
"Toh…!"
"God, not you again!" Gig yelled.
A/N: Please Review.
