Sanubian Sunshine 2: Overcast

Title: "Sanubian Sunshine 2: Overcast"
Pairing: Auron/Rikku
Author: Fairy Armadillo
Email: fairyarmadillo@aol.com
Disclaimer: Not mine. Really. Don't hurt me.
Rating: R or NC-17

Summary: After the destruction of Al Bhed Home, Rikku is upset. Auron comforts her. Whee. ^_^

WARNINGS: Male/female romance, sexual situations. Hurt/comfort, angst, spoilers.

Due to fanfiction.net's policy on NC-17 material, this chapter has been censored.

Author's Notes: Here's the second vignette in my Auron/Rikku series. Sorry for the abrupt end, folks. The full NC-17 version can be read at http://armadillo.yaoiville.org/

The armadillo loves feedback. So, please? ::big puppy eyes::



Sanubian Sunshine 2: Overcast

The vibrations of the airship's engines thrummed deep in Auron's bones as he leaned against the bulkhead. It was easier here, away from the others. The well-worn track of his own thoughts was preferable to the atmosphere of anxiety on the bridge. There was nothing to do but wait as they searched for Yuna. Nothing to do but trust that she was safe. Yuna was... so important. So much depended on her -- including Jecht's salvation, and his own.

The tiny noise pulled Auron from his grim musings, so faint that for a second he was certain he'd imagined it. He raised his head to listen.

There it was again. A soft, hurt sound, like something in pain. Or someone crying.

Auron shoved off from the wall and stepped into the main corridor that ran the circumference of the ship. Kimahri stood nearby, arms crossed in his customary guardian's stance. "Kimahri, do you hear anything - unusual?"

The Ronso cocked his head and listened for a minute or two, then shook his great, maned head. "Kimahri hears nothing."

"Hn," Auron grunted. He couldn't hear it now, either. Did the unsent hallucinate? Or was he simply losing his mind? "Well, stay alert."

The Ronso nodded. "Kimahri keep watch."

Auron returned to his spot near the bridge entrance. After only a few seconds he heard the sound again. "I am not insane," he muttered to himself. He turned his head from side to side, trying to trace the sound. It appeared to be coming from a small grille set mid-way up the wall.

Auron placed his ear to the grille. The sound was definitely someone crying, and a familiar someone at that. He thought about what he knew of the airship's layout. "Huh."

Out into the corridor again, a quick nod to Kimahri, and then into the starboard area of the ship. As expected, there was a much larger duct about ten feet past the door which separated the two sections. It was about three and a half feet tall and three feet wide, just large enough that he would be able to move in a crouch rather than a crawl. A smaller person would have fit much more comfortably. A person the size of, say... Rikku.

The grille blocking the opening was hinged, and swung aside easily. The revealed passage might have been a maintenance accessway, but Auron couldn't tell. Even after ten years in Zanarkand, he wasn't terribly well-versed in machina design. Regardless, it was clean and lit well enough to see, if only dimly.

Had it occurred to him, Auron might have left well enough alone. Rikku had obviously gone to a lot of effort to seek out solitude. But ten years of caring for Jecht's son had ingrained his response, and sheer habit tugged him forward.

With a sigh Auron crouched and moved into the small passage. It branched after a few feet, but he could hear the sniffling again, louder now. He allowed it to guide him, following the sound around one turn and down the left arm of a junction. After one last turn the passage widened slightly, and tucked into the corner of the widest part was the figure Auron had been expecting.

"Rikku," he said quietly.

The girl jerked her head up from her bent knees, and her face was wet with tears. "Oh... you found me. No one was supposed to find me."

"I heard you crying." Auron sat next to her, feeling his bones creak as he moved. Unfortunate that being unsent did not preclude one from the aches and pains of mortal life.

"Yeah," Rikku whispered, and sniffled again, wiping at her cheek with the inside of her wrist. "We -- we tried, but there were so many people we couldn't save. My brother, my friends... almost everyone I ever knew growing up. They're all gone."

"I am... sorry." Inadequate words, as always. But they were the only ones he had.

Rikku blinked hard, and another tear tracked its way down her cheek. "My father and the others, they can sing the Hymn, and grieve for a while, and then it's over. I told Tidus I was okay, you know, but..." She sucked in a shuddering breath, close to a sob.

"Grief has its place... but it's best to move on quickly." Ah, such hypocrisy. Was there anything left of his own existence except grief and the oaths he'd sworn?

Rikku made him pay. She fixed him with a glare, her green eyes vivid and startling with those spiraled Al Bhed pupils.

"I know that! Don't you think I know that? I live in Spira too, you know! Sin doesn't care who it takes -- if they're Al Bhed, or Yevonite, or Guado. No one can take the time to grieve, because if they did, there wouldn't be room to do anything else!"

"Forgive me," Auron said, averting his gaze. He hadn't meant to imply that she was being foolish. He sighed. The realm of comfort always had left him feeling clumsy, at best. He was better suited to the sword. Perhaps he should go.

"I'm sorry," Rikku said, her softened voice surprising Auron into looking back at her. "I know you mean well. But I... I can't let go this time, you know? It's just too big. I can't get past it." She thumped her head down on her knees and hugged them tightly, squeezing herself into an even smaller ball.

"...does it ever stop hurting, Auron?" she asked in a thin, plaintive voice.

"No." Auron kept his tone as gentle as possible, but he couldn't lie to her. She deserved the truth. "I wish I could say that it gets easier with time, but it doesn't."

"Oh." Her voice was so small it was almost nonexistent. She looked utterly miserable, hunched there in the dim light. After a few moments of silence and stillness she began to tremble. The soft, wounded sounds started anew.

Auron swallowed, thoughts of leaving now vanished into the air. The vulnerable curve of Rikku's neck filled him with the impulse to protect. His chest ached in sympathetic loss. He knew this moment so well, the realization of inescapable pain.

Auron wished with sudden, futile intensity, that he could take Rikku's pain away with the wave of his hand. As irritating as she could be at times, she was too bright a soul to suffer like this. She didn't deserve it.

But then, no one did.

The best Auron could do was slide his arm around Rikku's hunched shoulders, offering the primitive comfort of touch. His tokkuri got in the way, and Auron unhooked it impatiently and set it off to his left. He took Rikku under his arm then, shifting a bit closer. Rikku's muscles were stiff and tense, but she leaned into him a fraction, letting him know the contact was welcome. It had been a long time since he'd wanted his touch to be welcome, since he'd wanted to comfort another person. Since he'd cared.

Not strictly true, but close enough. In Zanarkand, Tidus had kept the last of his heart from turning to stone. Here in Spira his heart had revived, taken in others. This group of... children, racing headlong to their fate. Though none could rightfully be called children -- not when they were prepared to sacrifice their lives to bring the Calm. Not even the one underneath his arm, the youngest of them all.

Braska had always chided him about this, the fact that he loved too easily, and too well. He'd struggled with it his whole life. He'd gradually learned to keep his distance and protect his heart, but the lesson had been hard-won. He'd have thought it branded onto his soul by now. Love meant loss. Love meant pain.

Braska had warned him of the risks, gently and often, but Auron had been younger then, and unable to help himself. His heart chose, and mind and body could do nothing but follow. And Braska... Braska had seemed to envy his capacity to love, the resilience of a heart that had received wound after wound but never quite broken. It had taken the loss of Braska himself to achieve that.

Auron looked down as Rikku stirred, the tight ball of her posture relaxing as the storm of emotion subsided. Spent for now, she wiped her face and curled against him for comfort, her right hand falling to his chest. Her fingers absently stroked the thick fabric of his coat.

"I think my feelings have burnt out," she said softly. "I don't hurt anymore. I'm just numb."

"It's like that sometimes," Auron said. "Unfortunately, it never lasts."

No matter how one wished it might.

They sat together quietly, only the hum of the airship's engines and the hypnotic rhythm of Rikku's fingers on his coat breaking the stillness. Through his arm and side, Auron could feel peace stealing gradually over her small frame, the calm after the storm.

"This is nice," Rikku sighed sleepily. She snuggled a little deeper into his arm. Auron hesitated.

"Yes," he agreed at last, giving in to the admission. And it was. Rikku was a warm and pleasant bundle against his side, if a bit bony. Her hand on his coat felt good. Her closeness felt good. She smelled good, too - a bit like the hot sands of her former Home, a bit like some exotic spice, and underlying those was the simple scent of warm, healthy girl.

Auron closed his eyes and sent a brief prayer toward a source in which he no longer held belief. This was another ache that death had not taken, much to his dismay. He was in trouble.

Rikku was petting his coat now, and therefore the flesh and bone beneath. Auron gritted his teeth and willed his breathing to stay calm and even. Of the trinity of heart, mind, and body, his body appeared to be leading the way. Completely and utterly without his consent, his right arm drew Rikku closer. His left hand emerged from his coat, encircling her forearm gently. He felt soft skin, and the downy brush of invisible hairs.

"Mmm," Rikku purred, a throaty little sound.

Auron swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. He was in a lot of trouble.

Rikku blinked open her eyes, looked up at him with an expression half-sleepy and half-seductive. Auron gazed back, and watched her pupils dilate, the spirals seeming almost to spin as they expanded into small black pools.

"Hi," she said very softly, nearly whispering.

"Hello," Auron replied numbly. More eloquent speech seemed to have escaped him, and likewise the ability to move.

Rikku tilted her chin up, leaning very close to his face. Her lips parted, then tightened in an annoyed line as she realized his high collar was blocking her goal. Making a little noise of frustration, she tugged the top edge out of the way with one hand and finished leaning in.

Auron jerked his head away and to the side a fraction of an instant before their lips touched. "Rikku --"

"Don't tell me I'm too young," Rikku interrupted, dead serious. "Because I'm not."

Auron shook his head slightly. "No, you're not. But you are upset. Do you even know what it is that you want?"

"Yes."

Well, that certainly sounded definite. "And... how much... do you want?"

"Um..." Rikku's gaze lost some of its certainty.

Auron felt a wash of relief. If Rikku wished to back off, he would gladly let her do so. His body, with its racing heart and sweating palms, could just go and hang. "Well?"

Rikku's fingers plucked at the buckles of his collar. A faint blush spread across her cheeks and nose. "I'm pretty sure I want... a lot. Whatever you're willing to give."

That was not at all what he'd expected.

"Why." Even to his own ears, the word was monotone.

Rikku shrugged. "Maybe it's because I'm not a 'dirty Al Bhed' to you. There wasn't a trace of hate in your eyes, when we first met. Maybe it started then. Maybe it's because you called me over to look at the snow bike, at Macalania, so Wakka wouldn't see me cry."

"I... see."

"It's not like Tidus and Yunie, you know? But it's still... still real." Rikku looked at him, and her face filled with unhappiness of a different kind. "You really don't want to, do you? Not even a kiss?"

Auron shook his head. His throat felt surprisingly tight. "I can't, Rikku."

"Why not?" she asked softly.

"It will... complicate matters."

"That's not an answer," Rikku persisted.

She would insist on making him say it. Perhaps it was for the best. "I'm unsent, Rikku. Dead."

"Oh." Rikku poked at his chest experimentally. She didn't seem especially surprised. "Does that make a difference?"

Auron raised his brows so high he could feel the scar pulling at his bad eye. "You knew?"

Rikku nodded. "Since Guadosalam. I don't know what the Farplane smells like, but I could guess what Seymour meant."

"And you still..."

"Yeah." Rikku shrugged. "I mean... I know you're not going to be around forever." The corners of her mouth drooped, but she propped them up. "But no one is, right? We gotta make the best of the time we have." Her chin quivered, and she dropped her head to his shoulder to hide her expression.

"You know what I really want?" Rikku whispered. "I want to forget being sad. Just for a while. Please... remind me what it's like to feel good."

The absolute irony of it, Rikku asking that of him.

Auron dissolved into laughter, laughter that grew by turns until it sounded more like pain. By the time he ran out of breath the bridge of his nose was stinging with unshed tears, and Rikku was looking at him very strangely indeed.

"I've never heard you laugh like that," she said. "I didn't think it was that funny."

"It wasn't." His high collar was strangling him suddenly, and Auron tore it off with the practiced motion of one hand, throwing it aside.

Rikku tilted her head, regarding him quietly, and then gave him a faint smile.

"What?"

"I know why you wear that collar, now. With that scar and the gray hair and the glasses, your face is all 'I'm tough and mean. Don't mess with me.' But your mouth is all 'I'm a big softie.'"

Auron couldn't seem to summon the indignation appropriate to that remark. His lips twitched upward. "You've discovered my secret."

Rikku smiled back, tracing the edge of his mouth with a fingernail. It sent ticklish sensations shivering down his spine. "That's okay," she reassured him. "You've got more."

He did, indeed. The fingernail left off its maddening explorations to trail up the underside of his jaw, and Auron missed it shamefully.

"Besides, it doesn't work anyway," Rikku added. "Your eyes are too warm."

"Eye." The shell of his ear was now being investigated, and he felt it all the way to the soles of his feet.

Rikku brought her finger back to his chin, and tapped it as if in remonstration. "You have two eyes. One just doesn't work anymore."

"I stand - sit - corrected."

Rikku's smile brightened for a second. The fingernail resumed tracing his lips. Auron fought down a shudder, his head going back. When he looked at Rikku she was staring at his mouth with undisguised longing.

"Auron, can I kiss you now? Because I really, really want to."


CENSORED


If you want to read the rest of this chapter, please visit: http://armadillo.yaoiville.org/


Part 3 is in the works. It will be posted here on ffn, as I don't foresee a greater than R rating. No smut, sorry! Subsequent chapters are a long way off, and will probably only be available on my website.