[brzina]
by onkoona
Dreamlife
It all started with a dream. And I knew it was a dream straight away, like I did when he gave me that fan. And this dream was the same at first too; he didn't talk at all, but I was a lot older now, than I had been back then. He looked the same as always, exactly as I remember him, the white sleeves, the tall hat, the puffy trousers and those mesmerizing almost purple eyes, that the reflected to bight light that bounced off the clouds in our dreamscape. The only thing missing was his fan, but then he gave that to me so long ago, so that’s why it wasn’t there now.
At first I talked at him and he smiled, like he'd done in that first dream, so many years ago. Man, I talked for hours, must have talked his head off, I think, and he was so patient with me.
The second time I dreamed, I grabbed his hand while I was still yappin'; I was so glad he had come to me again the very next night, even if he couldn't talk. And it turned out I could touch him, and that his hand was warm and soft. That second night I talked a whole lot more and he nodded his understanding. But finally I came to the end of all wanted to say and I fell silent; it is kinda weird talking all by yourself, and it was getting embarrassing so I quit talkin’. And I realized I was still holding his hand and it was still warm in mine.
We stood like that for a while, while I gazed at his face. He hadn't changed, at all. Just as I remembered him, for when I was small; silly smile and wayward tuft of ebony hair escaping that dumb hat, and all. Oh, how I had missed him! Like every hour of every day! And no one I could tell it too, either! It had been hell on earth, and the only thing that had stopped me from going nuts was playing go. Playing his game, playing against the best players on Earth, since I couldn't play against that one, that incomparable one, up in Heaven.
Maybe it was at my thought's instigation, but then a goban appeared between us, and he let go of my hand to sit on the other side of it. And then we played. And it was wonderful, just like old times, but at the back of my mind I did miss that warm hand in mine.
I dreamed again the next night and the next and every night after that, and we played magnificent go, and he still won as he had always done, even though I gave him more of a run for his money then I used to. But still I missed that slim hand in mine.
After each game there would be a game discussion of sorts as he still didn't talk. He would gesture at the board using his empty hand - the fan never had made a reappearance - and I would interpret his thoughts. After weeks of this, however blissful the playing had been, I wanted more and grabbed his hand as it swung over the goban in an animated big arc. I held it and wouldn't let it go again and it was still soft and slim and warm. He stared at me then, wearing that look I’ve known so well and missed so keenly; that look of utter bewilderment he had worn whenever he had encountered a wonder of modern technology. Yes, that look warmed me up inside and the drumming loneliness I had felt for years now, was slowly dying down.
I pulled him forward, I just couldn’t help myself, and did something even I hadn't expected I had wanted to do; I kissed him. Full on the mouth too!
And it was like I hadn't even imagined; he was soft and warm there too, and lush and wet. In my life I hadn't much luck with love; all my girlfriends always left me saying I was thinking too much of something else while with them, citing go as their rival. Oh, how wrong they had been! This was what he had been looking for all this time, however unconscientiously! This man that I now had in my arms, if only in my dreams, and that I was kissing the stuffing out of.
Not that Sai seemed to mind, he had let me drag him across the game board and was molding himself to me with abandon. I had kissed and been kissed before, but I could tell he had not, so I proceeded to very thoroughly teach him and he proved an avid pupil. Yes, that dream had been a good one. Too bad I woke up.
The dreams continued every night without fail. I'd talk then we'd play and then we'd kiss. Then as time wore on we'd only do the last of those three, and we’d take it further too. Over time we took it very far, further then I had ever been with a man, and considering his reactions, Sai hadn't been anywhere with anyone, so for him it was all new. Somehow that fact gratified me greatly; I was his first, his only encounter. Even though his inexperience was telling, he kept up with me and seemed to compliment me perfectly; I know I'm bossy and he let me dominate him in the sex on every point.
I think it was his total surrender to me and his trust in me that made me lose my heart forever. I think he had always had these elements in him, even when I first knew him, but I had been too young to see, to understand. Now I understood and I took him in our mutual pleasure, night after night after night.
My nights were bliss but it was the daytime that was the problem. All day I’d wonder is it real? I’d wake every morning sticky with come all over me; that was real enough! But what if it's my mind playing tricks on me? Was I going nuts?
Other then the dreams my life went on as it had before. I still played in all the ooteai games and the tournaments - still getting axed about halfway through them, drat - I still taught my go classes, I still played and argued with my rival. The only thing I gave up on was cultivating a girlfriend. Akari-chan was the only one that commented on that and I told her I was taking a break from dating, which she accepted without question.
No, my biggest worry was if I would dream that night or not. But I did, without fail, every night. Despite the rude awakening I had where I threw the phone out of the window when Waya called me up one early morning, and pulled me out of my dream and Sai at the same time. I was pissed at him for a week. Sai wasn't too happy either, but at least he did show up when I went to sleep that night; I had so been worried he wouldn't!
And so life continued for three years and I was very happy and contented.
Then one night things changed. The moment he arrived into the dreamscape, I knew something was very wrong; his Heian outfit with its fluttering white sleeves and ridiculous hat - that I would always remove first before love making, stupid thing! - were missing and he was wearing a simple white gi and steel gray hakama, tied at the waist. But what was worse - and I only saw it after he'd inclined his head in greeting, as he always did - his hair! It had been cut short to a shoulder length bob that was loosely caught in a tie at the base of his skull, letting some whips escape.
I asked him what had happened to his hair and clothes, knowing full well there could be no answer, but I was astounded when he did speak, explaining how he traded his clothes and his hair and his earrings for his voice from the 'Masters of Heaven', as he called him. He explained that while he could not talk of Heaven; for no mortal can know what goes on there, he could tell me that when I was in the waking world he could see all I did and where I went. And that he had been worried for a while now - in hindsight I think I had known he was, but at the time I had been too obliviously happy to notice - he worried that I was not moving on with my life as I should, as he hoped I would do once he'd started visiting my dreams. His idea had been to create some sort of closure for me, even if he explained it differently. Pah, closure, who needs it? It had all gone so out of hand, he said, with the sex and all -which he had enjoyed greatly, his deep blush and shy smile admitted that very candidly - and he worried he'd made my life worse instead of better. He was almost in tears at this point, a sight that tore at my heart!
I assured him I was happy, and that it was his reappearance and our nightly activities - here it was my turn to blush - that had made me so happy. I explained that my life had gone on hold the day he had disappeared and that I had come to realize that I would have been looking for him all the rest of my life, in go and elsewhere, because I would never be whole without him. All in all, it turned into a very embarrassing scene, of which I will spare you the details. Suffices to say we both cried our eyes out and then we comforted each other horizontally for a good long while.
We talked a little more and I had him crying in my arms again, agonizing over his new looks and if I could still love him this way. And yes, I have always loved that long shiny hair - the way it would flow through my fingers, as I gripped it during sex - and I've always considered his outfit to be an integral part of him -including silly hat - but getting his voice back was well worth the sacrifice, and I told him so. I then asked him if he'd be disappointed when over the years I'd start to grow older, and maybe become ugly. As an answer he kissed me, at length, and I think I do like that answer best of any he could have given.
I don't know what the future holds, no one does, but I do know he's the one for me, even if we only can ever meet in my dreams. It's just going to have to be enough. Until we meet in Heaven that is. And I'm not suicidal or anything but I think you can understand when I say I can't wait for that day to arrive.
Dreamlife
It all started with a dream. And I knew it was a dream straight away, like I did when he gave me that fan. And this dream was the same at first too; he didn't talk at all, but I was a lot older now, than I had been back then. He looked the same as always, exactly as I remember him, the white sleeves, the tall hat, the puffy trousers and those mesmerizing almost purple eyes, that the reflected to bight light that bounced off the clouds in our dreamscape. The only thing missing was his fan, but then he gave that to me so long ago, so that’s why it wasn’t there now.
At first I talked at him and he smiled, like he'd done in that first dream, so many years ago. Man, I talked for hours, must have talked his head off, I think, and he was so patient with me.
The second time I dreamed, I grabbed his hand while I was still yappin'; I was so glad he had come to me again the very next night, even if he couldn't talk. And it turned out I could touch him, and that his hand was warm and soft. That second night I talked a whole lot more and he nodded his understanding. But finally I came to the end of all wanted to say and I fell silent; it is kinda weird talking all by yourself, and it was getting embarrassing so I quit talkin’. And I realized I was still holding his hand and it was still warm in mine.
We stood like that for a while, while I gazed at his face. He hadn't changed, at all. Just as I remembered him, for when I was small; silly smile and wayward tuft of ebony hair escaping that dumb hat, and all. Oh, how I had missed him! Like every hour of every day! And no one I could tell it too, either! It had been hell on earth, and the only thing that had stopped me from going nuts was playing go. Playing his game, playing against the best players on Earth, since I couldn't play against that one, that incomparable one, up in Heaven.
Maybe it was at my thought's instigation, but then a goban appeared between us, and he let go of my hand to sit on the other side of it. And then we played. And it was wonderful, just like old times, but at the back of my mind I did miss that warm hand in mine.
I dreamed again the next night and the next and every night after that, and we played magnificent go, and he still won as he had always done, even though I gave him more of a run for his money then I used to. But still I missed that slim hand in mine.
After each game there would be a game discussion of sorts as he still didn't talk. He would gesture at the board using his empty hand - the fan never had made a reappearance - and I would interpret his thoughts. After weeks of this, however blissful the playing had been, I wanted more and grabbed his hand as it swung over the goban in an animated big arc. I held it and wouldn't let it go again and it was still soft and slim and warm. He stared at me then, wearing that look I’ve known so well and missed so keenly; that look of utter bewilderment he had worn whenever he had encountered a wonder of modern technology. Yes, that look warmed me up inside and the drumming loneliness I had felt for years now, was slowly dying down.
I pulled him forward, I just couldn’t help myself, and did something even I hadn't expected I had wanted to do; I kissed him. Full on the mouth too!
And it was like I hadn't even imagined; he was soft and warm there too, and lush and wet. In my life I hadn't much luck with love; all my girlfriends always left me saying I was thinking too much of something else while with them, citing go as their rival. Oh, how wrong they had been! This was what he had been looking for all this time, however unconscientiously! This man that I now had in my arms, if only in my dreams, and that I was kissing the stuffing out of.
Not that Sai seemed to mind, he had let me drag him across the game board and was molding himself to me with abandon. I had kissed and been kissed before, but I could tell he had not, so I proceeded to very thoroughly teach him and he proved an avid pupil. Yes, that dream had been a good one. Too bad I woke up.
The dreams continued every night without fail. I'd talk then we'd play and then we'd kiss. Then as time wore on we'd only do the last of those three, and we’d take it further too. Over time we took it very far, further then I had ever been with a man, and considering his reactions, Sai hadn't been anywhere with anyone, so for him it was all new. Somehow that fact gratified me greatly; I was his first, his only encounter. Even though his inexperience was telling, he kept up with me and seemed to compliment me perfectly; I know I'm bossy and he let me dominate him in the sex on every point.
I think it was his total surrender to me and his trust in me that made me lose my heart forever. I think he had always had these elements in him, even when I first knew him, but I had been too young to see, to understand. Now I understood and I took him in our mutual pleasure, night after night after night.
My nights were bliss but it was the daytime that was the problem. All day I’d wonder is it real? I’d wake every morning sticky with come all over me; that was real enough! But what if it's my mind playing tricks on me? Was I going nuts?
Other then the dreams my life went on as it had before. I still played in all the ooteai games and the tournaments - still getting axed about halfway through them, drat - I still taught my go classes, I still played and argued with my rival. The only thing I gave up on was cultivating a girlfriend. Akari-chan was the only one that commented on that and I told her I was taking a break from dating, which she accepted without question.
No, my biggest worry was if I would dream that night or not. But I did, without fail, every night. Despite the rude awakening I had where I threw the phone out of the window when Waya called me up one early morning, and pulled me out of my dream and Sai at the same time. I was pissed at him for a week. Sai wasn't too happy either, but at least he did show up when I went to sleep that night; I had so been worried he wouldn't!
And so life continued for three years and I was very happy and contented.
Then one night things changed. The moment he arrived into the dreamscape, I knew something was very wrong; his Heian outfit with its fluttering white sleeves and ridiculous hat - that I would always remove first before love making, stupid thing! - were missing and he was wearing a simple white gi and steel gray hakama, tied at the waist. But what was worse - and I only saw it after he'd inclined his head in greeting, as he always did - his hair! It had been cut short to a shoulder length bob that was loosely caught in a tie at the base of his skull, letting some whips escape.
I asked him what had happened to his hair and clothes, knowing full well there could be no answer, but I was astounded when he did speak, explaining how he traded his clothes and his hair and his earrings for his voice from the 'Masters of Heaven', as he called him. He explained that while he could not talk of Heaven; for no mortal can know what goes on there, he could tell me that when I was in the waking world he could see all I did and where I went. And that he had been worried for a while now - in hindsight I think I had known he was, but at the time I had been too obliviously happy to notice - he worried that I was not moving on with my life as I should, as he hoped I would do once he'd started visiting my dreams. His idea had been to create some sort of closure for me, even if he explained it differently. Pah, closure, who needs it? It had all gone so out of hand, he said, with the sex and all -which he had enjoyed greatly, his deep blush and shy smile admitted that very candidly - and he worried he'd made my life worse instead of better. He was almost in tears at this point, a sight that tore at my heart!
I assured him I was happy, and that it was his reappearance and our nightly activities - here it was my turn to blush - that had made me so happy. I explained that my life had gone on hold the day he had disappeared and that I had come to realize that I would have been looking for him all the rest of my life, in go and elsewhere, because I would never be whole without him. All in all, it turned into a very embarrassing scene, of which I will spare you the details. Suffices to say we both cried our eyes out and then we comforted each other horizontally for a good long while.
We talked a little more and I had him crying in my arms again, agonizing over his new looks and if I could still love him this way. And yes, I have always loved that long shiny hair - the way it would flow through my fingers, as I gripped it during sex - and I've always considered his outfit to be an integral part of him -including silly hat - but getting his voice back was well worth the sacrifice, and I told him so. I then asked him if he'd be disappointed when over the years I'd start to grow older, and maybe become ugly. As an answer he kissed me, at length, and I think I do like that answer best of any he could have given.
I don't know what the future holds, no one does, but I do know he's the one for me, even if we only can ever meet in my dreams. It's just going to have to be enough. Until we meet in Heaven that is. And I'm not suicidal or anything but I think you can understand when I say I can't wait for that day to arrive.