ooc: log post~
Who: TYL!Canon!Yoko nice-guns and TYL!Brawl!Kittan black-bachika
What: Kittan coming face to face with a Yoko who returns his feelings. Complications and light angst arise.
When: The first night of the disaster.
Where: Dai-Gurren lounge, the kitchen, and then Kittan's room.
Why: We have a giant soft spot for Kittan/Yoko. Don't judge us.
Notes: LOOK GUYS. IT'S BEING POSTED THE DAY IT WAS FINISHED. =DDDDD Also general spoilers for TTGL.
Yoko was exploring. It was all the same, except... different. People she didn’t know claiming to know her, Kamina alive as an eight year old, Kittan. And the Dai Gurren itself was different. It was smaller than she remembered, but there were so many different things about it. Making her way to what used to be the lounge on the Dai Gurren, she frowned. How was she supposed to deal with this? How could she get back home, and soon? Finally coming to the door, she peered in, relieved to find it... well, relatively the same. Except for the person sitting on a couch. “Kittan?”
It was odd, being back on the Dai Gurren after so many years. Not that he minded, but sometimes the nostalgia would get the better of him and he'd find himself forgetting that he was 28, not 18. It was an odd feeling, but it had been pushed to the side as he dealt with the sudden confusion and chaos that had seemed to come about. Now, he was resting in the lounge, a thoughtful expression on his face. Or he was, until she'd said his name. He blinked. "Yoko?"
“Hi.” She stepped further into the lounge, amazed at what she assumed were gaming systems and the TV that she knew was impossible for them to have. Well. Impossible for her Dai Gurren Dan to have. The whole idea of being in another universe was something she was going to have to get used to. “So.”
She didn't look the same. The Yoko in his timeline didn't look like this. She looked more...alive. There. Her eyes didn't carry the same heaviness. She wasn't as detached and quiet as the woman in front of him. He cleared his throat. "Do you want to sit down?"
“Right, thanks.” She sat on the chair opposite him, trying not to think of how surreal this whole thing was. Kittan... he wasn’t her Kittan. He looked older, if only slightly. As he would have looked if he had lived. “I can’t even begin to tell you how weird this is.”
"Heh. That's my line." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Yeah. It's, uh. It's weird. I dunno what the hell is going on."
She smiled at him, glad to know that even in an alternate universe Kittan was still Kittan. “If anyone does, I’d really like to talk to them. I’ve upset no less than two people in the short amount of time I’ve been here.”
He shrugged. "Don't worry about it. It's a madhouse right now. In about a day everything will calm down and we'll figure out a routine. It's how it always works around here." He scratched his nose. "Kamina's been weird lately anyway. Plus, it's been..." He frowned. "...ten. Ten years since you've seen him."
“It still works that way, then?,” she asked, becoming a bit more relaxed. “Seventeen. Seventeen years since I’ve seen him.”
"What?! Wait, how old are you now?"
"I'm twenty five. You're right." She laughed, running a hand through her hair. "God. I can't even count."
He shrugged. "I still can't count." He looked her in the eye, and then reached over and slid her glasses off. "Oi. Yoko."
“That doesn’t surprise me. Some government official you are.” She blinked as he slid her glasses off, surprised. “Kittan?”
He frowned. "The truth. Are you okay? And I ain't just talkin' about this." He nodded to indicate the whole 'everything is a fucking mess' situation.
“No. Yes.” The truth just had to be difficult, didn’t it? “I’ll be fine. Later, I’m sure. One day.”
He frowned. "I, uh. I know it's hard, but." But what? What could he say? He was silent for a moment, before standing up. "Come on. Let's go get something from the kitchens. It's evening, so no one'll bother you."
She stood, smiling slightly. “As long as it’s not Nia cooking, sounds good.” Oh god, Nia. She didn’t think she could even look her in the eye if she saw her. It was hard enough not telling Simon to hold onto her because she’d be dead in seven years, but facing her was something Yoko wasn’t quite sure she could do. “Kittan... does Nia... does she die?” If Kittan didn’t die in this future, maybe there was some hope for Nia as well.
He was silent for a moment, not wanting to look at her. When he spoke, his voice was tight. "Simon's gone." He let the implications sink in before continuing. "Naota -- erm, Simon's son -- he, uh. He lives with you. But not you, the...other you." He frowned.
Simon. Simon. “What?” But that couldn’t be. Her Simon, well, she assumed he was alive somewhere. “Simon. How... why?” It wasn’t fair. Then again, nothing was fair when it came to them. The odds, the deaths, everything. “What about me? Do I live a good life?”
"The Anti-Spiral." He figured it was explanation enough. He pulled open the door to the kitchen, flicking on one row of lights and making his way to the fridge. He pulled a huge container of water out and set it on the counter with a thud, just in time to hear her next question. "Yeah. You do."
Yoko felt like shooting something. “God damn it.” Fucking bastards, screwing up not only her world, but this one as well. And in different ways. “I take it I’m with Kamina?” That had surprised her. And flattered her. To think that one version of herself had what she never did. It wasn’t envy so much as it was a passing fancy. It wasn’t her, after all. It would never be her.
"Yeah. You an' the kids are fine." He pulled down two glasses. "...I, uh. I just assumed you wanted water, but that Ed kid always had alcohol on board."
“Kids?” Kids. He had to be kidding. “If you’ve got something stronger, I’ll take it. Who’s this Ed person, anyway? I think Lina... or maybe Kamina, mentioned him.”
"Yeah, the twins." He automatically went over to one cabinent and pushed aside a neatly-arranged pile of pots and pans to reveal the motherload of all alcohol from all fandoms ever. "Good, it's still here."
"Ed's this kid who traveled with us for awhile. He was a pretty good guy."
Twins. Oh god, twins. With Kamina. “Okay, I think I’m done hearing about my alternate future.” She peered over his shoulder at the vast array of alcohol. “God damn, Kittan. I’m going to have to thank this kid if I ever meet him.”
"I don't think he's here. He's back at his place for the time being, and if he got caught up in this, I'm glad he's not here." He reached for a few of his favorites. "Want anything in particular?"
“The stronger the better.”
He frowned. "Gettin' drunk won't solve anything."
She frowned right back. “Then what will?”
He sighed, and then stood up, putting the hard liquor back and reaching further into the cabinet, eventually pulling out a bottle of red wine. He set it down in front of her. "There. Enough to get buzzed but not enough to regret."
“Cheers,” she said, pouring herself a glass. She took a sip, enjoying the taste. “I never asked... what’s life for you like?”
He poured himself a glass and hoisted himself up onto the counter. "Well enough, I suppose." He took a sip. "Work. More work. Visiting my nieces. Visiting the twins." He shrugged.
“Sounds... well not exactly boring, but...” She waved a vague hand, leaning back against the counter next to him. “Uneventful. Then again, I’m pretty sure we’ve had enough adventure to last us a long time.”
"Heh. Try three lifetimes." He took another sip and then set the glass down beside him. "So how about you?"
“I teach. It’s a quiet life, but a good one.” She took another sip before swirling the wine around. “It’s odd, teaching about the things we did, pretending like I wasn’t there.”
"Well, hey, on the bright side you'll be the most accurate teacher out there." He smiled. "Someone has to tell our story, huh?"
She laughed. “True. I’ll see kids playing outside, pretending to be Kamina, Simon, everyone. It’s nice to know we didn’t fight in vain. That we have a future underneath the sky.”
He laughed at that, too. "Heroes of mankind, huh?" He'd heard the phrase tossed around a lot, but it made what they did seem so...clean. As if you could tie it up neatly into one phrase like that. He glanced over at her. "I guess the real burden really does lie on us, then. Even after the fighting's over."
“Heroes of mankind,” she repeated, laughing at how it sounded. Taking another sip, she hummed slightly. “I’m sorry that in your future you have to bear it alone.”
"That's my line," he said, picking his glass up again. "Yoko, it's..." He frowned, trailing off. "No. I am sorry. Even if it wasn't me. But a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do, y'know?"
“I know. I think I wouldn’t miss you so much if I didn’t.”
He sighed. "Still, though. Sometimes I think your Kittan's lucky." It was true, what they said. Fighters didn't know how to do anything but fight. People meant for the battlefield didn't find their place easily in a quiet world.
She snorted. “Lucky? Lucky about what - the sex or the dying?” Maybe drinking wasn’t that good of an idea - she was supposed to be in control, not the bitter woman she could be, should be.
He choked on his wine, sputtering and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "The what?" He looked over at her, his eyes wide.
“Are you all right,” she asked, eyeing him warily. Surely it couldn’t have come as that much of a shock. “The sex or the dying?”
"Sex? Like -- us? You and me?" His expression was incredulous. "When the hell did that happen?!"
She squashed the temptation to roll her eyes at him. “Yes, sex, as in us - you and me.” Apparently it was a shock. “Before we left with Simon.”
"Oh." He was silent for a moment, before taking another swig of wine. "Fucking lucky bastard," he muttered under his breath.
Catching his mutter, Yoko snorted into her wine. “I take it you’ve had no such luck?”
"Nope." He slammed the glass onto the counter and reached for the wine bottle.
She paused, considering. But she was here, he was here, and she didn’t have anything to lose. “I could change that.”
"You're not thinking straight." The answer was automatic as he poured himself another glass. "It wouldn't be right."
“You said this would only get me pleasantly buzzed,” she pointed out, frowning. “And why not?”
"Because I love you too much to do that to you." Fuck it. With all luck she'd be back to wherever she came from soon enough, anyway. Might as well put all of his cards on the table.
“Hasn’t it occurred to you that I love you enough to risk it?” All she was asking was for a chance for her to say goodbye to him one more time and for him to have something he never had.
"No." He turned to look her in the eye, his expression fierce. "Do you?"
She met his gaze with a matching one of her own, though her's bordered on defiant. “Yes.” And she had never meant anything so much as she did that word.
He was silent for a moment, staring into his almost-full glass. He put it to his lips and tilted his head back, finishing it off in a matter of seconds. Wine was practically nothing to him. His blood was much thicker than that. He set the glass back down and hopped off the counter. "Well, all right, then."
“Anti-climatic, don’t you think,” she asked, almost laughing as she finished off her glass. “I’d say my place, but that’d be...” She frowned, trying to find the right word. “Disrespectful. Kamina told me I could have his room while I was here.”
"Yeah, and that'd be equally as disrespectful." He tossed the glasses into the huge tub-sink and the wine bottle into the huge hole in the wall. He turned to look at her. "My room'll be fine. S'about the same size as yo-- Kamina's, anyway."
“That’s what I meant.” Idiot. “Right, well, lead on.” She smiled at him, reaching for his hand. “Thank you.”
"I'm drunk, remember?" Kittan teased. He squeezed her hand in response, not saying anything. He led her out of the kitchen and down a few hallways, up a half-flight of stairs, and through another few hallways. He opened his door, flicking on the light and pulling her into the room behind him.
This time she did roll her eyes at him, following him without complaint until they reached hs room. She didn’t know what she was expecting his room to look like, but it looked... well, like any other room on the Dai-Gurren. “Nice place you’ve got here.”
"Thanks, I decorated myself." It was unnerving, stepping back into his room after ten years. It was much smaller than he remembered. But she was with him, and he really couldn't bring himself to care at the moment.
“I can tell.” She smiled at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “We’re good, right?” And before he could respond, she kissed him, relishing the familiarity while at the same time hating it.
It felt right. Too right. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as he kissed her back. He broke off the kiss, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke. "You sure?" He'd give her one last chance to back out before she did something she'd regret. Before he did something that he would regret.
“Absolutely.” She was going into this clear-headed as she could possibly be after a few glasses of wine. But even then she wouldn’t have minded. She wanted this, she needed this. One last time knowing that it’d be one last time. “I should be asking you that.”
"I made my decision a long time ago." They'd both suffered. They'd both lost each other, disregarding the circumstances. Who was he to deny her this? He kissed her again, his tongue brushing across her lower lip as his hands tugged her shirt free from the waistband of her skirt.
"What decision was that?" Her hands had already managed to un-tuck his own shirt and she trailed kisses along his jawbone, almost absentmindedly.
A combination of being pleasantly buzzed and feeling her lips against his skin was making it difficult to think. "To stop wasting chances I knew wouldn't come along again." He threaded his fingers into her hair and kissed her on the lips.
“Mmm.” It sounded like a good decision to her. She kissed him back, deepening it. A part of her, the part that wasn’t used to the whole idea of whatever had happened to her, tried in vain to get her to think more about what she was doing. She didn’t care, and that part quickly shut up and joined the rest of her in thinking that maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
He knew this was an irrational decision - how would he be able to look at his Yoko the same way, knowing how she kissed, how she sounded, how soft and warm she was - but fuck rational. He wanted -- no, he needed this, just as much as she did. His hands slid under her shirt and up her back, inwardly marveling at how smooth and soft her skin was.
She gasped at his touch, pressing herself closer to him. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t her Kittan, he was Kittan. “I should have asked...” she slid her hands up his chest, taking his shirt with them, “how did you survive?”
"Mmm." Her touch was raising goosebumps on his skin. He loved it. By now his hands were tugging her shirt up to just under her chest, urging her to move her arms so that he could rid her of said shirt. "Luck, I suppose. A different turn of events."
She raised her arms, sliding his shirt up and over his head as she did so. “I’m glad.” With some difficultly, Yoko swallowed the lump in her throat. “You deserve to live.” They all deserved to live, Kittan, Kamina, Nia, and everyone else. It wasn’t fair, but it was how it went.
That took him by surprise. He put his hands on her shoulders, his thumb brushing just above her collarbone. "Oi. That's..." He trailed off, seeing the sadness and the heaviness in her eyes. He wanted to make it all go away. "Don't. Just don't think." He pulled her to him and kissed her again, his hands undoing the ties of her bra.
"I won't." It was just them. That's all that mattered. She ran her hands down his sides, coming to rest on his hips. "You can help."
"Gladly." He tossed her bra to the side, leaning forward to kiss a trail down her neck.
"Kittan," she gasped, giving up her efforts with his pants to thread her fingers in his hair. She could always go back to them later.
His hand slid up her ribcage to cup her breast, his other hand wrapping around her waist. His mouth moved up her jawline to catch her earlobe between his lips, nipping at it. "Yoko."
“Kittan.“ It was practically a moan and they hadn’t even been doing much at all. She should be ashamed of herself, but Yoko was finding it hard to think between the wine and his touch. She laughed breathlessly, pulling him even closer to her.
He chuckled, dropping his head to the crook of her neck and placing a few chaste kisses there. His hands, however, were already sliding along her waistband in an attempt to locate the fastener on her skirt. "I think I like hearing you say my name like that."
“Funny. The other you mentioned the exact same thing.” Dragging her hands down his chest, she settled on getting rid of his pants. “The clasp is off-center, to my right,” she said in response to the feeling of his fingers along her hips.
"Mmm." There was a few seconds of fumbling and tugging before the clasp gave way under his fingers, and he pushed the skirt down over her hips. "I gotta say, I don't blame him." His fingertips slid down her stomach, barely touching the skin.
Stepping out of her skirt, she shoved off to the side with her foot, leaving her shoes there as well. “If you blamed yourself over this, we’d have a problem."
"I see absolutely no problems," He said, stepping back slightly to admire her. All she had left on were her panties, and even though she'd unbuttoned his pants, they were still painfully tight. "Wow," he murmured, letting one hand trail down her arm.
Her smile turned to one of wistfulness at his words. “You alright?” Somehow she had forgotten that he’d never seen her, not like this.
"More than all right." Her skin was so soft. His fingers trailed back up her arm, up her neck, and then skimmed across her jawline to finally brush against her lips. "You're..." Amazing. Beautiful. Wonderful. The words died on his lips as he pulled her to him, burying his hand in her hair and kissing her.
Yoko didn’t ask any questions, didn’t say anything, just simply kissed him back. She didn’t need to do anything else to get him to understand. Her hands slid down his sides, still holding him to her until she reached the waistband of his pants and with one good yank pulled them down.
He kicked his pants to the side and set his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back onto the bed. He leaned his head down and placed a kiss between her breasts, just over her heart.
She hooked one leg around his, fingers brushing through his hair before mirroring his action. He looked, smelled, felt the same as she remembered him and she found it immensely comforting.
His fingers danced along her hipbone, just barely avoiding the top of her panties. He could get used to this -- her beneath him, flushed and breathless, with his name on her lips. It was enough to send a thrilling sensation down his spine. He shifted to the side and slid his finger into the waistband of her panties, tugging them down her legs and tossing them to the side. He leaned back, letting his eyes slide up and down her body, unable to keep the grin from his face. "Much better."
She laughed, both at his words and the grin on his face, fingers sliding under the waistband of his boxers. “I don’t know, it could be a lot better on my end.” Even though most people were flipping out about whatever had happened, she found that it didn’t matter that much anymore. Not when she had him.
For the first time in a long time, he laughed. He shifted above her so that she could remove his boxers, and then leaned forward and kissed her again. Her arms around him, the sensation of her bare flesh against his -- it was amazing. For the first time in a long time, he felt at ease. He felt happy. "There. Is that better for you?"
Three years had been far too long to go without this, without him, and Yoko made no effort to hide her appreciative look. “Much.” Kissing the corner of his mouth, she smiled at him. “You’re sure about this?” One last chance for him to leave, one last chance for them to maybe, just maybe, think rationally. Not that she expected his answer to change, but she had to give him one more chance, but just one.
"I've never been so sure of anything in my life." He covered her lips with his, his hand sliding up her inner thigh. He regretted very little about his life, and he knew he wouldn't regret this. He managed to pull them up so that her head was resting on the pillows, and his hand slid up to cup her breast. "No more words."
She gasped, moving her leg up higher so it was hooked around his waist. “Just two,” she whispered, hands cradling his face, her thumbs gently rubbing circles on his cheeks. “Thank you.”
Kittan didn't know how many hours had passed, and he'd lost track of how many times he'd dozed off only to be awoken by Yoko's hands on him, or vice versa. For now, though, they were curled up with her back against his chest, his fingers stroking her shoulder and arm absentmindedly. He caught the glow of the alarm clock over her shoulder, and squinted slightly to bring it into focus. 3 AM. No wonder he felt exhausted. He knew he was going to be sore tomorrow. He looked down at the young woman curled up in his arms and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. "Hey."
Yoko stirred, bringing herself out of what was looking to be a very good night’s sleep. Not that she minded, of course. It had been time well spent, with the promise of more for as long as she remained here. Turning around in his arms, she smiled sleepily up at him. “Kittan?”
He grinned and kissed her forehead. "Of course." He was silent for a moment, watching her eyelids flutter in an attempt to stay awake. He pulled her closer, resting his cheek on top of her head and closing his eyes. "...Thank you."
She smiled, eyes drifting closed and one arm draped across his side. This was something new - there had been no time to just hold each other close in her world and she found that she rather liked it. “Anytime.” She paused, struggling to find the right words for what she wanted to say next. Finding that there wasn’t any real way to say goodbye when, by the looks of things, she’d be here tomorrow, she settled on just a simple “Goodnight.”
His arms tightened around her. God, did he hope she'd still be here tomorrow. Maybe then he'd get around to saying everything he couldn't say this time. "Night, Yoko."
What: Kittan coming face to face with a Yoko who returns his feelings. Complications and light angst arise.
When: The first night of the disaster.
Where: Dai-Gurren lounge, the kitchen, and then Kittan's room.
Why: We have a giant soft spot for Kittan/Yoko. Don't judge us.
Notes: LOOK GUYS. IT'S BEING POSTED THE DAY IT WAS FINISHED. =DDDDD Also general spoilers for TTGL.
Yoko was exploring. It was all the same, except... different. People she didn’t know claiming to know her, Kamina alive as an eight year old, Kittan. And the Dai Gurren itself was different. It was smaller than she remembered, but there were so many different things about it. Making her way to what used to be the lounge on the Dai Gurren, she frowned. How was she supposed to deal with this? How could she get back home, and soon? Finally coming to the door, she peered in, relieved to find it... well, relatively the same. Except for the person sitting on a couch. “Kittan?”
It was odd, being back on the Dai Gurren after so many years. Not that he minded, but sometimes the nostalgia would get the better of him and he'd find himself forgetting that he was 28, not 18. It was an odd feeling, but it had been pushed to the side as he dealt with the sudden confusion and chaos that had seemed to come about. Now, he was resting in the lounge, a thoughtful expression on his face. Or he was, until she'd said his name. He blinked. "Yoko?"
“Hi.” She stepped further into the lounge, amazed at what she assumed were gaming systems and the TV that she knew was impossible for them to have. Well. Impossible for her Dai Gurren Dan to have. The whole idea of being in another universe was something she was going to have to get used to. “So.”
She didn't look the same. The Yoko in his timeline didn't look like this. She looked more...alive. There. Her eyes didn't carry the same heaviness. She wasn't as detached and quiet as the woman in front of him. He cleared his throat. "Do you want to sit down?"
“Right, thanks.” She sat on the chair opposite him, trying not to think of how surreal this whole thing was. Kittan... he wasn’t her Kittan. He looked older, if only slightly. As he would have looked if he had lived. “I can’t even begin to tell you how weird this is.”
"Heh. That's my line." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Yeah. It's, uh. It's weird. I dunno what the hell is going on."
She smiled at him, glad to know that even in an alternate universe Kittan was still Kittan. “If anyone does, I’d really like to talk to them. I’ve upset no less than two people in the short amount of time I’ve been here.”
He shrugged. "Don't worry about it. It's a madhouse right now. In about a day everything will calm down and we'll figure out a routine. It's how it always works around here." He scratched his nose. "Kamina's been weird lately anyway. Plus, it's been..." He frowned. "...ten. Ten years since you've seen him."
“It still works that way, then?,” she asked, becoming a bit more relaxed. “Seventeen. Seventeen years since I’ve seen him.”
"What?! Wait, how old are you now?"
"I'm twenty five. You're right." She laughed, running a hand through her hair. "God. I can't even count."
He shrugged. "I still can't count." He looked her in the eye, and then reached over and slid her glasses off. "Oi. Yoko."
“That doesn’t surprise me. Some government official you are.” She blinked as he slid her glasses off, surprised. “Kittan?”
He frowned. "The truth. Are you okay? And I ain't just talkin' about this." He nodded to indicate the whole 'everything is a fucking mess' situation.
“No. Yes.” The truth just had to be difficult, didn’t it? “I’ll be fine. Later, I’m sure. One day.”
He frowned. "I, uh. I know it's hard, but." But what? What could he say? He was silent for a moment, before standing up. "Come on. Let's go get something from the kitchens. It's evening, so no one'll bother you."
She stood, smiling slightly. “As long as it’s not Nia cooking, sounds good.” Oh god, Nia. She didn’t think she could even look her in the eye if she saw her. It was hard enough not telling Simon to hold onto her because she’d be dead in seven years, but facing her was something Yoko wasn’t quite sure she could do. “Kittan... does Nia... does she die?” If Kittan didn’t die in this future, maybe there was some hope for Nia as well.
He was silent for a moment, not wanting to look at her. When he spoke, his voice was tight. "Simon's gone." He let the implications sink in before continuing. "Naota -- erm, Simon's son -- he, uh. He lives with you. But not you, the...other you." He frowned.
Simon. Simon. “What?” But that couldn’t be. Her Simon, well, she assumed he was alive somewhere. “Simon. How... why?” It wasn’t fair. Then again, nothing was fair when it came to them. The odds, the deaths, everything. “What about me? Do I live a good life?”
"The Anti-Spiral." He figured it was explanation enough. He pulled open the door to the kitchen, flicking on one row of lights and making his way to the fridge. He pulled a huge container of water out and set it on the counter with a thud, just in time to hear her next question. "Yeah. You do."
Yoko felt like shooting something. “God damn it.” Fucking bastards, screwing up not only her world, but this one as well. And in different ways. “I take it I’m with Kamina?” That had surprised her. And flattered her. To think that one version of herself had what she never did. It wasn’t envy so much as it was a passing fancy. It wasn’t her, after all. It would never be her.
"Yeah. You an' the kids are fine." He pulled down two glasses. "...I, uh. I just assumed you wanted water, but that Ed kid always had alcohol on board."
“Kids?” Kids. He had to be kidding. “If you’ve got something stronger, I’ll take it. Who’s this Ed person, anyway? I think Lina... or maybe Kamina, mentioned him.”
"Yeah, the twins." He automatically went over to one cabinent and pushed aside a neatly-arranged pile of pots and pans to reveal the motherload of all alcohol from all fandoms ever. "Good, it's still here."
"Ed's this kid who traveled with us for awhile. He was a pretty good guy."
Twins. Oh god, twins. With Kamina. “Okay, I think I’m done hearing about my alternate future.” She peered over his shoulder at the vast array of alcohol. “God damn, Kittan. I’m going to have to thank this kid if I ever meet him.”
"I don't think he's here. He's back at his place for the time being, and if he got caught up in this, I'm glad he's not here." He reached for a few of his favorites. "Want anything in particular?"
“The stronger the better.”
He frowned. "Gettin' drunk won't solve anything."
She frowned right back. “Then what will?”
He sighed, and then stood up, putting the hard liquor back and reaching further into the cabinet, eventually pulling out a bottle of red wine. He set it down in front of her. "There. Enough to get buzzed but not enough to regret."
“Cheers,” she said, pouring herself a glass. She took a sip, enjoying the taste. “I never asked... what’s life for you like?”
He poured himself a glass and hoisted himself up onto the counter. "Well enough, I suppose." He took a sip. "Work. More work. Visiting my nieces. Visiting the twins." He shrugged.
“Sounds... well not exactly boring, but...” She waved a vague hand, leaning back against the counter next to him. “Uneventful. Then again, I’m pretty sure we’ve had enough adventure to last us a long time.”
"Heh. Try three lifetimes." He took another sip and then set the glass down beside him. "So how about you?"
“I teach. It’s a quiet life, but a good one.” She took another sip before swirling the wine around. “It’s odd, teaching about the things we did, pretending like I wasn’t there.”
"Well, hey, on the bright side you'll be the most accurate teacher out there." He smiled. "Someone has to tell our story, huh?"
She laughed. “True. I’ll see kids playing outside, pretending to be Kamina, Simon, everyone. It’s nice to know we didn’t fight in vain. That we have a future underneath the sky.”
He laughed at that, too. "Heroes of mankind, huh?" He'd heard the phrase tossed around a lot, but it made what they did seem so...clean. As if you could tie it up neatly into one phrase like that. He glanced over at her. "I guess the real burden really does lie on us, then. Even after the fighting's over."
“Heroes of mankind,” she repeated, laughing at how it sounded. Taking another sip, she hummed slightly. “I’m sorry that in your future you have to bear it alone.”
"That's my line," he said, picking his glass up again. "Yoko, it's..." He frowned, trailing off. "No. I am sorry. Even if it wasn't me. But a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do, y'know?"
“I know. I think I wouldn’t miss you so much if I didn’t.”
He sighed. "Still, though. Sometimes I think your Kittan's lucky." It was true, what they said. Fighters didn't know how to do anything but fight. People meant for the battlefield didn't find their place easily in a quiet world.
She snorted. “Lucky? Lucky about what - the sex or the dying?” Maybe drinking wasn’t that good of an idea - she was supposed to be in control, not the bitter woman she could be, should be.
He choked on his wine, sputtering and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "The what?" He looked over at her, his eyes wide.
“Are you all right,” she asked, eyeing him warily. Surely it couldn’t have come as that much of a shock. “The sex or the dying?”
"Sex? Like -- us? You and me?" His expression was incredulous. "When the hell did that happen?!"
She squashed the temptation to roll her eyes at him. “Yes, sex, as in us - you and me.” Apparently it was a shock. “Before we left with Simon.”
"Oh." He was silent for a moment, before taking another swig of wine. "Fucking lucky bastard," he muttered under his breath.
Catching his mutter, Yoko snorted into her wine. “I take it you’ve had no such luck?”
"Nope." He slammed the glass onto the counter and reached for the wine bottle.
She paused, considering. But she was here, he was here, and she didn’t have anything to lose. “I could change that.”
"You're not thinking straight." The answer was automatic as he poured himself another glass. "It wouldn't be right."
“You said this would only get me pleasantly buzzed,” she pointed out, frowning. “And why not?”
"Because I love you too much to do that to you." Fuck it. With all luck she'd be back to wherever she came from soon enough, anyway. Might as well put all of his cards on the table.
“Hasn’t it occurred to you that I love you enough to risk it?” All she was asking was for a chance for her to say goodbye to him one more time and for him to have something he never had.
"No." He turned to look her in the eye, his expression fierce. "Do you?"
She met his gaze with a matching one of her own, though her's bordered on defiant. “Yes.” And she had never meant anything so much as she did that word.
He was silent for a moment, staring into his almost-full glass. He put it to his lips and tilted his head back, finishing it off in a matter of seconds. Wine was practically nothing to him. His blood was much thicker than that. He set the glass back down and hopped off the counter. "Well, all right, then."
“Anti-climatic, don’t you think,” she asked, almost laughing as she finished off her glass. “I’d say my place, but that’d be...” She frowned, trying to find the right word. “Disrespectful. Kamina told me I could have his room while I was here.”
"Yeah, and that'd be equally as disrespectful." He tossed the glasses into the huge tub-sink and the wine bottle into the huge hole in the wall. He turned to look at her. "My room'll be fine. S'about the same size as yo-- Kamina's, anyway."
“That’s what I meant.” Idiot. “Right, well, lead on.” She smiled at him, reaching for his hand. “Thank you.”
"I'm drunk, remember?" Kittan teased. He squeezed her hand in response, not saying anything. He led her out of the kitchen and down a few hallways, up a half-flight of stairs, and through another few hallways. He opened his door, flicking on the light and pulling her into the room behind him.
This time she did roll her eyes at him, following him without complaint until they reached hs room. She didn’t know what she was expecting his room to look like, but it looked... well, like any other room on the Dai-Gurren. “Nice place you’ve got here.”
"Thanks, I decorated myself." It was unnerving, stepping back into his room after ten years. It was much smaller than he remembered. But she was with him, and he really couldn't bring himself to care at the moment.
“I can tell.” She smiled at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “We’re good, right?” And before he could respond, she kissed him, relishing the familiarity while at the same time hating it.
It felt right. Too right. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as he kissed her back. He broke off the kiss, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke. "You sure?" He'd give her one last chance to back out before she did something she'd regret. Before he did something that he would regret.
“Absolutely.” She was going into this clear-headed as she could possibly be after a few glasses of wine. But even then she wouldn’t have minded. She wanted this, she needed this. One last time knowing that it’d be one last time. “I should be asking you that.”
"I made my decision a long time ago." They'd both suffered. They'd both lost each other, disregarding the circumstances. Who was he to deny her this? He kissed her again, his tongue brushing across her lower lip as his hands tugged her shirt free from the waistband of her skirt.
"What decision was that?" Her hands had already managed to un-tuck his own shirt and she trailed kisses along his jawbone, almost absentmindedly.
A combination of being pleasantly buzzed and feeling her lips against his skin was making it difficult to think. "To stop wasting chances I knew wouldn't come along again." He threaded his fingers into her hair and kissed her on the lips.
“Mmm.” It sounded like a good decision to her. She kissed him back, deepening it. A part of her, the part that wasn’t used to the whole idea of whatever had happened to her, tried in vain to get her to think more about what she was doing. She didn’t care, and that part quickly shut up and joined the rest of her in thinking that maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
He knew this was an irrational decision - how would he be able to look at his Yoko the same way, knowing how she kissed, how she sounded, how soft and warm she was - but fuck rational. He wanted -- no, he needed this, just as much as she did. His hands slid under her shirt and up her back, inwardly marveling at how smooth and soft her skin was.
She gasped at his touch, pressing herself closer to him. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t her Kittan, he was Kittan. “I should have asked...” she slid her hands up his chest, taking his shirt with them, “how did you survive?”
"Mmm." Her touch was raising goosebumps on his skin. He loved it. By now his hands were tugging her shirt up to just under her chest, urging her to move her arms so that he could rid her of said shirt. "Luck, I suppose. A different turn of events."
She raised her arms, sliding his shirt up and over his head as she did so. “I’m glad.” With some difficultly, Yoko swallowed the lump in her throat. “You deserve to live.” They all deserved to live, Kittan, Kamina, Nia, and everyone else. It wasn’t fair, but it was how it went.
That took him by surprise. He put his hands on her shoulders, his thumb brushing just above her collarbone. "Oi. That's..." He trailed off, seeing the sadness and the heaviness in her eyes. He wanted to make it all go away. "Don't. Just don't think." He pulled her to him and kissed her again, his hands undoing the ties of her bra.
"I won't." It was just them. That's all that mattered. She ran her hands down his sides, coming to rest on his hips. "You can help."
"Gladly." He tossed her bra to the side, leaning forward to kiss a trail down her neck.
"Kittan," she gasped, giving up her efforts with his pants to thread her fingers in his hair. She could always go back to them later.
His hand slid up her ribcage to cup her breast, his other hand wrapping around her waist. His mouth moved up her jawline to catch her earlobe between his lips, nipping at it. "Yoko."
“Kittan.“ It was practically a moan and they hadn’t even been doing much at all. She should be ashamed of herself, but Yoko was finding it hard to think between the wine and his touch. She laughed breathlessly, pulling him even closer to her.
He chuckled, dropping his head to the crook of her neck and placing a few chaste kisses there. His hands, however, were already sliding along her waistband in an attempt to locate the fastener on her skirt. "I think I like hearing you say my name like that."
“Funny. The other you mentioned the exact same thing.” Dragging her hands down his chest, she settled on getting rid of his pants. “The clasp is off-center, to my right,” she said in response to the feeling of his fingers along her hips.
"Mmm." There was a few seconds of fumbling and tugging before the clasp gave way under his fingers, and he pushed the skirt down over her hips. "I gotta say, I don't blame him." His fingertips slid down her stomach, barely touching the skin.
Stepping out of her skirt, she shoved off to the side with her foot, leaving her shoes there as well. “If you blamed yourself over this, we’d have a problem."
"I see absolutely no problems," He said, stepping back slightly to admire her. All she had left on were her panties, and even though she'd unbuttoned his pants, they were still painfully tight. "Wow," he murmured, letting one hand trail down her arm.
Her smile turned to one of wistfulness at his words. “You alright?” Somehow she had forgotten that he’d never seen her, not like this.
"More than all right." Her skin was so soft. His fingers trailed back up her arm, up her neck, and then skimmed across her jawline to finally brush against her lips. "You're..." Amazing. Beautiful. Wonderful. The words died on his lips as he pulled her to him, burying his hand in her hair and kissing her.
Yoko didn’t ask any questions, didn’t say anything, just simply kissed him back. She didn’t need to do anything else to get him to understand. Her hands slid down his sides, still holding him to her until she reached the waistband of his pants and with one good yank pulled them down.
He kicked his pants to the side and set his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back onto the bed. He leaned his head down and placed a kiss between her breasts, just over her heart.
She hooked one leg around his, fingers brushing through his hair before mirroring his action. He looked, smelled, felt the same as she remembered him and she found it immensely comforting.
His fingers danced along her hipbone, just barely avoiding the top of her panties. He could get used to this -- her beneath him, flushed and breathless, with his name on her lips. It was enough to send a thrilling sensation down his spine. He shifted to the side and slid his finger into the waistband of her panties, tugging them down her legs and tossing them to the side. He leaned back, letting his eyes slide up and down her body, unable to keep the grin from his face. "Much better."
She laughed, both at his words and the grin on his face, fingers sliding under the waistband of his boxers. “I don’t know, it could be a lot better on my end.” Even though most people were flipping out about whatever had happened, she found that it didn’t matter that much anymore. Not when she had him.
For the first time in a long time, he laughed. He shifted above her so that she could remove his boxers, and then leaned forward and kissed her again. Her arms around him, the sensation of her bare flesh against his -- it was amazing. For the first time in a long time, he felt at ease. He felt happy. "There. Is that better for you?"
Three years had been far too long to go without this, without him, and Yoko made no effort to hide her appreciative look. “Much.” Kissing the corner of his mouth, she smiled at him. “You’re sure about this?” One last chance for him to leave, one last chance for them to maybe, just maybe, think rationally. Not that she expected his answer to change, but she had to give him one more chance, but just one.
"I've never been so sure of anything in my life." He covered her lips with his, his hand sliding up her inner thigh. He regretted very little about his life, and he knew he wouldn't regret this. He managed to pull them up so that her head was resting on the pillows, and his hand slid up to cup her breast. "No more words."
She gasped, moving her leg up higher so it was hooked around his waist. “Just two,” she whispered, hands cradling his face, her thumbs gently rubbing circles on his cheeks. “Thank you.”
Kittan didn't know how many hours had passed, and he'd lost track of how many times he'd dozed off only to be awoken by Yoko's hands on him, or vice versa. For now, though, they were curled up with her back against his chest, his fingers stroking her shoulder and arm absentmindedly. He caught the glow of the alarm clock over her shoulder, and squinted slightly to bring it into focus. 3 AM. No wonder he felt exhausted. He knew he was going to be sore tomorrow. He looked down at the young woman curled up in his arms and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. "Hey."
Yoko stirred, bringing herself out of what was looking to be a very good night’s sleep. Not that she minded, of course. It had been time well spent, with the promise of more for as long as she remained here. Turning around in his arms, she smiled sleepily up at him. “Kittan?”
He grinned and kissed her forehead. "Of course." He was silent for a moment, watching her eyelids flutter in an attempt to stay awake. He pulled her closer, resting his cheek on top of her head and closing his eyes. "...Thank you."
She smiled, eyes drifting closed and one arm draped across his side. This was something new - there had been no time to just hold each other close in her world and she found that she rather liked it. “Anytime.” She paused, struggling to find the right words for what she wanted to say next. Finding that there wasn’t any real way to say goodbye when, by the looks of things, she’d be here tomorrow, she settled on just a simple “Goodnight.”
His arms tightened around her. God, did he hope she'd still be here tomorrow. Maybe then he'd get around to saying everything he couldn't say this time. "Night, Yoko."