[Gemini Festival] "Smoke and Mirrors" Act 2 - Rosu x Saga R/NC-17 (fanfic)
Title: “Smoke and Mirrors” - ACT 2 "Velveteen"
Author: Nemesi.
Fandom: Saint Seiya.
Genre: Mystery. Romance. Fluffy and mushy stuff ahead, plus angst.
Word Count: 1612.
Characters/Pairing: Aiolos/Saga.
Chapter Rating: ***soft NC17***
Disclaimer: Saint Seiya, its characters, places and themes belong to Masami Kurumada and Toei. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter Warnings: AU. Un-betaed. Slash. MxM sex.
Summary: "Love, sleep and death go to the same sweet tune;
Hold my hair fast, and kiss me through it soon”
~A.C. SWINBURNE "In the Orchard"~
* * * * *
ACT 2 - VELVETEEN (THE STUFF DREAMS ARE MADE OF)
A cave hidden behind the ever-shifting screen of a little waterfall, smelling of moss and damp soil, with a hint of wilting flowers and - oddly enough - what seemed like old parchment. The floor was carpeted with a fine layer of soft, green moss; the ceiling was shadowed and lofty, dusted with sparkling crystals like miniature stars. The humidity in the air was anything but unpleasant.
Craggy formations reared up deeper inside the cave, looking almost, but not quite, like giant seashells - spirally constructed, studded with tiny holes and the occasional spike. The bluish quality of the light perfected the illusion of being underwater.
It was a lovely hideout. Their favourite, in point of fact. Life stilled, in there. Time slowed, and the world narrowed to contain only the two of them.
Saga blinked awake from a troubled reverie, and stretched lazily onto the ground. His back arched gracefully, his tunic lifting to show inches of dove-white (and kiss-marked) skin. The place was so damp, his hair was darker than usual, and curled slightly at edges. A few droplets sparkled upon his form, slid sinuously down his skin as he moved.
For the first few seconds, he had no recollection of coming into the cave. A brief pang of unsettlement - it had been happening quiet often, as of late, that he awoke feeling confused and with no recollection of what had happened before falling asleep - then memories flickered back into his mind, like pieces of a puzzle clicking quietly into place. Relieved, Saga propped himself up on his elbows, looking for Aiolos in the dimness.
He found him sitting at the mouth of the cave, knees up, head turned away and resting against the rocks behind him. The ever-shifting wall of water at his side flashed, rainbows dancing in its midst; shivering shadows played upon him; icy droplets would land every now and then on his hands, his mouth. His posture was relaxed, and he might have looked content, even, if not for the tight, thoughtful look on his face.
Saga laid down on his back for a moment, wanting to speak but not knowing what to say. Before he could open his mouth though, Aiolos came to him, kneeling at his side.
“Hello there, sleeping beauty,” he crooned, voice low. His fingertips were cold and dripping wet, when he ran them down the side of Saga’s neck. The icy droplets rolling down the skin, the contrasting warmness of Aiolos’s palm which soon followed in their wake… Saga found those sensations to be oddly arousing.
Reaching up, he threaded his finger’s through Aiolos’s curls, dark with water. His hand was caught, their fingers entwined together, and Saga let out a small, contented sigh when Aiolos pressed a kiss to his knuckles. There was a softness in his eyes that spoke of distant, but unforgotten pain.
Sitting up, Saga brought their entwined hands to his mouth and reciprocated the gesture, dropping many kisses on Aiolos’s hand, each ending with a languorous swirl of the tongue around the base of, and between the fingers.
It felt so right, to be there, with Aiolos, alone together in a world of their own. If given the choice, Saga would relinquish anything - everything - to just stay there with him forever. The Cloth? My position in Sanctuary? My sanity? Why, please have it. Just don't take Aiolos from me. Not him.
“How long have I…” he began, then squinted at the cascade, whose water was slowly but surely tinting itself gold. “Is it the sunset already?”
“Almost.”
Voices came from outside, distorted and made incomprehensible by both the distance and the low, incessant din of the water. Blurry shapes were moving beyond the water screen, casting odd shadows upon it. They looked like ghosts, figments of someone’s imagination.
Saga fell silent, his thoughts drifting for a few minutes to his nightly plague, to the way his nightmares had been becoming clearer, as of late, if not longer. He could remember more details, although the whole picture still remained hazy to him. But the disquieting thing was that he imagined to see a pattern in his nightmares, now. As if they were fragments of one single, years-long story, where he, the Gemini Saint, was -
Then Aiolos was squeezing him gently, and Saga’s mind was dislodged from its train of thoughts.
“Away with that frown, will you?”
Saga peered up at his lover, one eyebrow hoisted inquisitorially.
“Why, you think it’ll give me wrinkles, if I keep frowning?”
Aiolos answered with a chuckle.
“I am just saying that thinking so hard about those nightmares really won’t take you anywhere. If anything, it’ll just give them more sway over yourself.”
Saga struggled to make himself sound stern, but he must have failed somewhere along the way, because his tone was coloured with affection and amusement, when he chided:
“You know I hate it, when you do that.”
Then again, Aiolos’s voice was just as playful.
“When I do what, precisely?”
“Read my mind as if it was an open book, beat me to say my own thoughts aloud, comfort me before I even realize I might need it… take your pick, the list is long.”
“Psychics. It comes in handy, when dealing with such a demanding lover as you are.”
Cheekily, which earned him a playful slap on the arm.
“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. Just say you’ve known me for so long, and love me so deeply, that my thoughts are your own.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“And why would I want to say something like that? Not that it isn’t true, but then you would have accused me of being mushy.”
“Exactly. And I would have loved the chance to tease you.”
Saga leaned back, face upturned, and dropped a kiss under Aiolos’s chin.
“They’re more frequent now,” he acknowledged softly, then bit his lip, as if wanting to recapture the runaway words.
“What was your dream abo-” Saga cut him off, by turning and leaning up to catch Aiolos’s bottom lip with his teeth, and nipping gently at it.
“Changing subject, aren’t we?” Aiolos quipped, when they parted for air. The gravity of his gaze belied the airy tone.
“Can you blame me?”
“Not really, no.” Saga’s hand had slid up to cup his cheek, during their previous exchange. Aiolos reached up and touched it. “But I want you to know I am here for you, whenever you may need to talk.”
“I know that I can count on you.” Saga gave a nod: solemn, brisk; then broke into a smile. “Nightmares might be my plague, but at least, you make my waking life a dream.”
Aiolos fidgeted under Saga’s gaze, muttering something through his teeth. Saga threw his arms around him, emitted a low, sensuous chuckle which vibrated throughout both their bodies.
“And you ensure that my sleeping time is reduced to a minimum, also.”
“Well…”
“Why, Mr. Sagittarius! Because of you, I never get any rest!”
With a kind of madcap delight shining in his lovely blue eyes, Saga pushed firmly against Aiolos’s shoulders, sending him flat on the ground, and at the same time using the leverage to leap away from him.
Aiolos lay stunned for a second, wondering if Saga was actually and truly angry at the means with which Aiolos robbed him of sleep - all of them very pleasurable and inventive, we assure you - when Saga perched himself upon Aiolos’s lap, bowing over to rain a path of feathery kisses all the way down his jaw and neck.
“‘You’re not giving me any rest,’ says he.” Aiolos snorted, while Saga disposed of his shirt, all but humming against Aiolos’s naked chest. “That should be my line.”
Saga quirked an eyebrow at him, his smiling mouth still touching Aiolos’s breastbone.
“Will you shut up on your own, or do I have to make you?”
“I’m not sure why, but the second option sounds definitely more appealing to me.”
Saga dragged himself up, sliding sensuously against Aiolos’s body, until their faces were level.
“Make me forget, Aiolos,” he whispered, mouth puffing hotly across Aiolos’s own. “Drive these nightmares away from my mind.”
There was a deeper meaning, to his plea, and both knew that. However, as always, words were not needed between them. A shared look, a minute nod, a careful touch, a secret smile, mouth-to-mouth. No other answer was needed, nor was it given.
For long minutes, they lay kissing, touching each other sweetly and carefully. Their hands came together, fingers entwining, then parted to slid sweat-drenched clothes off glinting skin, to sample and tease it, uniting again immediately afterwards. Mouths strayed, journeying down cheek and throat, to nipple and navel and hip, nibbling, tasting, licking. There was no hurry to possess, or be possessed. Only the thrill of exploring each other, reaffirming something that was greater than both.
It was more than beauty. It was destiny. It felt surprisingly like coming home.
As they moved together, drunken and sweet and languorous, the sunlight breaching through the waterfall intensified, stretched through the whole cave, and enveloped them in gold. Perspiration broke on their skin. Suddenly, it was hard to think. Was there really something outside the cave? Someone else in the world, other than the two of them? The pleasure was too much. Still sweet, and yet, so much. So much.
Dreamily, they came together, their rhythm quickening up towards the end, when the tide of ecstasy came and swept them away, robbing them of breath.
For both, when sleep came, it was dreamless. Aiolos truly was Saga’s only medicine for his nightmares.