Dossier Ch. 8
Five seconds, it was all he had.
The wind cut at his skin from this height.
Five.
The air had knocked the sterile plastic smell of the medical facility back into his lungs with the explosion, but he was soon met with the heady rush of the scent of saltwater. The smell burned his sinuses.
Four.
Would he make the landing? Heero peered over the jagged ledge. The building foundation gave way to a rocky cliff a few meters down. A fall from here would be deadly.
Three.
What did he care if he survived the fall anyway? An image of the mad engineer handing him his self-detonator switch reared its ugly head.
Two.
It was over. He failed his mission. He was seen, he was...caught. He had one last objective.
Heero jumped.
The wind burned like dry ice as he fell. What he thought were mere meters were slowly feeling more and more like kilometers.
Anxiety was creeping up his back, the hairs on his neck prickling one by one.
He would fall forever.
He couldn't even kill himself.
He couldn't do anything right.
"HEEEERROOOOOO"
The shrill voice penetrated the building pressure at his temples.
He went to pull a rip cord on his backpack, to engage his chute, but his eyes widened in horror when he felt no backpack at all.
He refocused his eyes on the ground below, which appeared to be getting farther and farther away.
And yet, there were stone structures protruding from the cliff. And they were getting closer.
He barely felt the first one hit, but the second one felt like bouncing off of a brick wall. His chest seized, and yet the pain quickly subsided.
Soon the voice came again, fainter this time, but much more desperate.
As he fell even further, the stone structures and cliff transformed gradually to resemble ancient European architecture, much like that of a cathedral. Soon, he was hitting gargoyles and buttresses on the way down, and they were coming at him faster.
"HEERO!" the shrill voice demanded.
Heero opened one eye, sitting up in his bed, dripping cold sweat, knuckles white from gripping his sheets.
"...Heero...Only a nightmare Heero. Its okay." Her voice soothed like a cool balm, as it had done often since he came to live in her home.
"Re..Relena..." Had his voice always been that shaky? He swallowed hard, staring at her eyes, lit by the security monitors at his bedside.
She looked like a ghost in that light.
He leaned forward and pulled her into his arms. She exhaled and pressed into him, putting her arms around his neck.
"Where were you today Heero? I didn't see you this morning." She whispered. She knew better, something had to have happened that day for him to have a nightmare. It was rare for him to even dream, let alone have a night terror. The few he had were usually distorted memories of his past life as a terrorist.
He pulled away, resting his hands on her strong shoulders, as if they could handle even more weight than what they already carried.
Heero debated whether or not to tell her about the meeting with Clark, or what could happen next. But truth be told, he didn't have an answer for her. What would be coming next? Why did Siet Clark need to keep this a secret from Relena? Was it because he was a politician? Was it a threat to her safety? Was it a threat to his? The possibilities swirled in his mind like a cloud of smoke.
"Heero, I know that you are going through a lot. I'm sorry...Just know that you can come to me okay? No matter what." She smiled that knowing smile at him. One that was tired and deprived of sleep. Her usual, vulnerable smile that she saved just for him. He returned the expression, and tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. Her eyes closed at the feather-like touch.
"I'm sorry I woke you." She looked so tired and fragile. So trusting. His breath hitched at the thought- he was keeping an immense secret from her. He had to try and keep his shit together.
She leaned forward into his chest and snuggled in a bit, breathing in deeply.
"Relena...what are you doing?" He chuckled.
"You smell nice." She said, turning her head and looking up towards him, eyes begging. It had taken him years to admit it, but he could never deny that look. No matter what she asked of him, he would be by her side.
"Do you...want to stay with me?" He asked, stumbling over the words. He saw her blush illuminate under the chaotic glow of the closed circuit security camera feed, and nod her head. He smoothed away what little sweat had been left on his sheets from his nightmare, and pulled down the blanket on the side facing the monitors, away from his bedroom door. His windows were tightly shut, and with her in the room, he would lock the bedroom door.
After making sure Relena was comfortable, and the entrances were locked, he slowly climbed back into bed. Relena was staring at the monitors, mesmerized by the eerie vision of empty rooms in her house.
"Do you normally sleep with these on?" She whispered, fighting sleep.
"Do you normally smell people's armpits?" He countered, earning a nudge from the woman in his full-sized bed.
He laid his head against one of his pillows, facing her. They continued to study each other, briefly, wrestling to stay awake.
There she was, in his bed. She had come to him. He had invited her to stay.
They both must have realized it at the same time, as her blush deepened. His face was burning, he was sure he was scarlet by now.
"So."
"So." he mirrored.
"Here we are." She whispered.
"Hn." He wasn't sure what she wanted him to do. The anxiety left over from his nightmare began to bubble up within him again. She always had made him nervous. Why had he gone and asked her to stay? He would never be able to sleep with her here.
She inched a bit closer.
Again his breath caught in his throat.
She reached out and took his hand in hers.
"Hm...that is interesting." She murmured, her voice light.
"Hn. What?" He grunted. He could never quite turn off the rudeness in his voice.
"We have never held hands before." She stated, and laced her fingers between his.
It was a new feeling. Her hands were much warmer than his, and softer. It was almost too much for him. What was holding hands even for? Shame crept up on his ears like hot air. They had kissed quite a bit yesterday, and they had kissed in the past too. Why was the act of holding hands so important? So foreign?
Why did he feel so nervous?
"Heero? Are you alright? You're flushed..." she asked him. His heart was beating so loudly, he could have sworn it sat where his brain should be.
She moved her free hand to his forehead, cooling the skin with her ivory palm.
"You're a bit warm Heero..."
When she went to move the hand away, he reached up and grasped it, now holding both of her hands in his. She flushed scarlet, and squeezed his palms.
"I've wanted to hold your hand before you know." he ventured.
"Oh really? When?"
Her skin burned against his palms. How many times had he thought about touching her? He had done it spontaneously in the past, sure. The time she had seen him off to space, and he had asked her to believe in him. The time he had almost kissed her, after he had rescued her from a group of kidnappers. The time she fell off of a balcony, and twisted her ankle. Each incident came with a sense of urgency, an external circumstance. He had never touched her because he felt like it, rather, because he felt like he had to. As if their lives depended on it.
/AC 195/
The two of them sat in silence, on the battleship Libra.
Heero was busy breaking through the ship's intranet, searching files for future plans, ship schematics, anything he could get his hands on. Relena stood, her back to the control panel, leaning up against the analog controls. The blue glow from the monitors reflecting off of her skin caught his eye immediately.
He had never seen a skirt that short before.
He had never been alone with a girl before, either.
Relena seemed to be more than a girl, though.
He could consider her a woman.
"You're amazing, Heero." Out of nowhere, the words came. His hands froze on the keyboard. Without a second thought, he stole a glance from his peripheral vision. She was looking up at the ceiling now, and he could almost hear her humming to herself. The portrait of extreme serenity, onboard the most unstable, and unsafe, battleship in space. They could all die at any given moment, considering her brother's recent history of rash decision-making.
They could all die at any moment.
"Look who's talking." He grunted, surprising himself at the confidence exuding in the statement.
She brought her hand up to her neck to hide the blush that began to form there. It was strange, he had noticed the mannerism on her before. He had met her perhaps only a dozen times, but already he was beginning to take note of the little things she did. The way her eyes would stare dreamily off into space, the way she would bring her fist up to her chest when in a fit of passionate speech. Her stern glare in the face of danger, her soft voice that could summon strength from absolutely nowhere. He was coming to recognize it all as simply...her.
This girl who had followed him all over the world.
This girl who would readily sacrifice herself for peace.
It was then he realized, he first wanted to reach out and touch her.
/Present Day/
Rather than explain the memory to her, he realized he needed to act.
He leaned forward, capturing her lips in his. And when he did, he could have sworn he felt her melting, her grip of his hands going slack.
She moved her hands from his and around his neck in an almost choreographed motion, feeling more like a pair of feathery wings resting on his skin. His palms came to rest on her hips, an almost involuntary response. When he realized where his hands were laying, he hesitated, and motioned to move away, but she pushed herself towards him, and he felt her body against him then. His muscles twitched involuntarily, summoning the parts needed for a response.
What was this? What was she doing...What was he doing?
"Is...is this okay?" He ventured, securing his grasp on her hip, one hand snaking underneath her. She smiled at him, and nodded, not meeting his eyes. Her body language was no good to him then, and he decided he needed a better answer from her.
He tipped her chin up with his left hand, searching her gaze.
"Relena. I...I need to know if its okay that I'm touching you like this." It was as if all the blood rushed to her face after hearing the words, uttered in his deep voice, mellowed with age. She lowered her lids, eyelashes teasing him like black swan feathers, framing eyes that glinted silver in the darkened room. He had to wrestle with his inhibitions then.
Relena nodded her answer to his question.
"What do you intend to do Heero?" She smiled, no longer the demure teenager he had once known. Her voice held that regal quality it always had, dripping with a polite allure. They were older, naive still, but older. He could feel the heat rising in her lower back, her skin burned under his touch.
He needed to act. What did you intend to do Heero? Her words began to play over and over.
She moved her leg to rest on top of his. Again, her face took on that demure mask. And yet here she was, lifting her leg. Who was she? That she could own him like this?
He leaned over again to kiss her, in an attempt to drown out his inner monologue. As many things as he could screw up, perhaps this, he shouldn't.
Her arms moved down over his, and her hands came to rest at the waistband of his pants. His breath caught, forcing him to open his own mouth, and she took it as an invitation inside. Thrusting her tongue into his mouth, she decided it was time to move her hands under his shirt as well.
He bucked his hips at the chill in her fingertips.
Her hands reached up his stomach, leaving a trail of pebbled skin in their wake. She giggled when she noticed. The sound was heavenly.
He exhaled sharply through his mouth. Relena moved in closer, and soon he could feel her entire body flush against his.
There was something there, something he was forgetting.
He was forgetting something.
He was hiding something from her.
The realization brought his euphoria to a halt.
He leaned forward, and moved his hands up from her hips to envelope her in an embrace. She froze in his grip, as if she could sense the change in momentum.
He came to rest his chin on the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. He had to stop. He had to take this chance to breathe her in.
"Heero? What's wrong?" She raked her fingers through his hair, and it felt incredible. Almost incredible enough for him to shed his anxiety completely. He let himself taste her neck, something he had never done. He trailed the elegant curve of skin with his mouth, settling his lips in a kiss on her shoulder. Her breathing grew more rapid with each touch, and he felt the muscles in her abdomen twitch against him. The feeling summoned a primal reaction from him, pulling his body on top of hers, hands resting against the mattress, supporting his weight above her. He looked down upon her, his perfect angel, laying innocent, ignorant to his fears and secrets. She could always be that way. She could always be blissfully ignorant.
He let his eyes roam her body, clad in thin pajamas, light peach in color, a shade or two pinker than her skin. The light, silky fabric of the camisole and shorts hung off of the curves of her body, as if she were floating in the air. She blushed under his gaze, growing increasingly aware of him and his presence.
His body weight felt delicious to her.
She pulled his head down with her hands, and engaged him in a rough kiss. He could feel her move beneath him, and the friction it caused surprised him. This felt good.
This felt great.
Maybe he could keep going. Maybe it didn't matter that he was keeping a secret from her.
When he noticed her struggling to free her leg from his, he moved, allowing her to move the leg up in an effort to encircle his waist. The bare skin of her thigh grazed his forearm, and his hair stood on end. As if he were being polite, he freed her other leg, and in answer she completed the circle, hooking both legs behind him.
He lowered himself on top of her, and she let out a breathy sigh. Wild, this feeling was. Just wild.
Again he returned his face to the crook of her neck, acknowledging that the area was becoming a safe space for him to hide his embarrassment.
"He-Heero...?" she whispered, bringing a hand down his back.
"Hn..." he grunted, taking in the scent of her hair, lavender.
"Heero...I..." the musing came laced with doubt.
"Relena...what's wrong?" Was all he could think to ask. He lifted his face to meet her eyes, to see if he could read her. The expression they held were almost indiscernible. A surprisingly satisfying mixture of shame, vulnerability, and lust.
"Have you...have you ever done anything like this before?" The question caught him off guard. Like this? Indeed, what was this? He had never done anything like this before.
"No. Never...I...to be honest...I'm not quite sure what should come next."
She smiled at the words.
"Me neither. And we're old, aren't we?" she smiled, running her hands through his hair again. He felt like a dog under a good petting.
"You'd think we'd know what to do." He smiled back in agreement.
Heero sat up, Relena's legs still hooked around his waist. His movement raised her body, which in turn caused her camisole to slip lower, revealing the pale skin of her stomach. He saw her skin pebble as his warmth left her.
"We can stay here for now if you like Relena. Stay with what we are doing." He suggested. He didn't mind it, and he had no clue how to get to the next act. Besides, it was almost too much. To see her like this, to feel her writhe beneath him from such a simple touch. It was almost enough to send him over that edge.
"Can...Can I make one last adjustment Heero? I'd like to...do one thing." She said while propping up on her forearms, gravity causing the camisole to once again cover her skin. She lowered her legs, and scooted up the mattress. In one fluid motion, she removed her camisole, revealing bare flesh to him. In an attempt to warm herself, or perhaps cover up, she crossed her arms over her chest.
He felt himself tense up. He wasn't sure where he should look, or where she wanted him to look.
And then he decided, when in doubt, be a mirror. He pulled his own white t-shirt over his head, and resigned himself to sit cross legged in front of her.
She giggled. The sound drove him insane, as it always has. In a quick motion, he gripped her by the ankles, and gently pulled her into his lap.
Supporting her lower back with his hands, he ravished her neck and shoulders with as many kisses as he could give her without actually biting her flesh. Her laughter quickly turned into sharp inhales and exhales, eventually prompting her to let her arms fall to her sides in resignation. He moved his face in front of her, and laid soft, appreciative touches with his lips to where her collarbones rested in the center of her upper chest, lowering his mouth slightly to her sternum. He could feel her heart beating faster and faster through her skin, and he was becoming more and more aware of the flesh of her chest on either side of him. He felt her hands pull at his hair, in a violent show of positive reinforcement.
And in that moment he looked up at her, a saving goddess in his lap. His kisses were his prayers, and her cries were his blessings.
He was praying for rain.
And she was about to take him to church.
~*a/n*~ omg I had to do it! I know I know, I am trying to be the queen of sexual tension, but we are getting there! The juice is totally loose now guys! I'm also crazy for a double update.. I had a weird day, so I wanted to get this chapter out there and let the positivity flow. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I really really really loved writing it :)
Thanks for your support!
~murshmallow