Haunted Remixes - In This House of Leaves We'll Pray (Wild Arms 3, Clive/Jet, Jet/Virginia, NC-17)
Series: Haunted Remixes
Title: In This House of Leaves We'll Pray
Author: Spinny Roses
Fandom: Wild Arms 3
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Yaoi and het (Clive/Jet, Jet/Virginia)
Spoilers: Whole game, "Pleading Groping Hands; Bleeding in the Sand," and "Lie Beneath Imaginary Worlds"
Notes: Entire series is inspired by Poe's "Haunted." The Haunted Remixes are non-canon side-stories to "Pleading Groping Hands; Bleeding in the Sand" and "Lie Beneath Imaginary Worlds." Their relationship WILL NOT GO THAT FAR in "Pleading Groping Hands; Bleeding in the Sand" and "Lie Beneath Imaginary Worlds."
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Haunted Remixes
In This House of Leaves We'll Pray
By Spinny Roses
It came as a completely surprise to both Clive and Virginia that Jet was very loud during sex.
The change in their relationship came about as an attempt to calm the young android down after waking from a nightmare. They had started by trying to wake him up while he was in the throes of a particularly bad... nightmare? Memory? It was hard to say. It was a struggle for Jet to even let out the barest hint of what happened back at Deadwood. They had no idea how deep the wound ran, nor was there a way to truly measure it.
They found out how to calm him down completely by accident. One of the beds had broken at an inn. Gallows and Clive were too large to share a bed, and no one wanted to deal with Virginia's feet again. Gallows remembered quite well what happened the last time he was forced to share a bed with her. The bruises had almost faded and being woken up by icy feet was not fun.
So, instead of someone sleeping on the floor, Jet fell asleep with the warmth of Clive's back on his arm. It had been odd, to say the least. But when the nightmares came again, Clive's half-awake "I am married with a kid" reflexes came to the front and he sleepily hugged the smaller body to him. It was different enough that Jet woke, confused. Instead of instantly attacking what he perceived as a threat, he laid there, trying to remember why there was someone else in his bed and why he didn't feel panic about it.
They figured out very quickly that it was better for someone to sleep next to Jet. At first, everyone traded off. After a few times of being shoved off by Gallows and kicked mercilessly by Virginia, it was decided, for Jet's own health, that Clive should be the one to share a bed with him.
Both of them still woke up from time to time with bruises. Jet still occasionally lashed out in his sleep, one time managing to catch the older man in the throat with an unintentionally well-aimed punch. But the feeling of waking to someone holding him had slowly calmed his dreams down.
Which was sad, Jet reflected as he scrubbed his face clean. The nightmares were still there, still shattering. But considering before he had barely been able to tell the difference between awake and asleep? It was better that he knew what was a dream. The water splashed up over the counter as he rinsed with a little more effort than was needed. It was all a dream. He reached for his toothbrush with quivering fingers. A dream.
Long, calloused fingers reached past him, snagging a washcloth. Jet let out a long, annoyed breath and turned. "Whaddya want?" he growled, making a movement to shove the instrument up somewhere. Either his mouth or Clive's nose. Either would work, as long as the older man backed up and let him finish using the washroom.
Clive squinted at him, his glasses still probably back on the nightstand. He tended to leave them there until the last second, despite the fact he could not see well without them. "Good morning, Jet," he said pleasantly, in a post-coffee voice. "And how was your sleep?"
Which was a useless question. They both already knew. Jet's hand trembled only slightly as he answered. "It was sleep."
Clive gently ran the washcloth across the boy's face, the dry fabric soaking up the excess water on his skin. Jet braced himself, not willing to let him know what the soft touch did to him. It was the motions they went through. He wouldn't show the need for a touch, how waking to a caring, warm body had awaken an addiction within him. How that night had brought to fore hormones and emotions Jet thought, as the Filgaia Sample, he had been left without. The older man bent down, his breath smelling of warm and good coffee.
Which was exactly when a brown haired hurricane burst into the room. Which was almost literal, considering Virginia's sleep-knotted hair. Virginia half-awake was quite amusing, actually. They had tried to get her into the habit of laying in bed for a bit to wake up, joining Clive for coffee, or even to have a little breakfast with Gallows first. Every effort went unheeded as she proceeded to barge in on people in the washroom before her brain finally woke up.
This time, Virginia was halfway through brushing her hair when she realized there were two other people in the room. Better than usual; normally she was up to sliding out of her nightgown before noticing others. "Oh! Good morning!"
"Good morning," Clive responded, making a motion to push up missing glasses.
Virginia looked around, blushing a little as she realized what stunned position he had pulled himself out of. "Sorry." She started to walk out of the room, still furiously brushing her hair, then turned to Jet. With a frown, she leaned into his face. "... you had another really bad nightmare," she stated flatly.
Stay there, have a face-full of Virginia. Lean back, lean into Clive. What choices. He was about to let loose a non-committal answer when the girl gently touched his face. "Jet... when will you learn to trust us?"
See, he thought by letting someone sleep in the same bed as him, he was trusting them.
Carefully, she leaned in, kissing him. It didn't cause the walls to completely be broken down, but it fed the budding addiction in his gut. He unconsciously shifted his head slightly as Clive rested his lips against the android's soft neck, moaning into Virginia's mouth as an overtly warm tongue swiped up towards his ear. Jet hesitantly rested his hands on her soft curves, struggling against his emotions as Clive's hands stroked down from his shoulders. He had barely moved his hands to cup her breasts when there was a loud, annoying knock at the door.
"While it's great you aren't doing it again while I'm trying to sleep, other people are gonna need to use the washroom at some point!"
Gallows. Virginia briefly hit her head against Jet's shoulder, and turned. "We'll be out in a little bit!"
"Yeah, and then I gotta be in there smelling that. Bedroom's free, damn it!"
Clive exhaled next to Jet's ear. "Perhaps we should wait until a more favorable time," he said in a low voice. Virginia quickly nodded, and after a moment, Jet followed. Not like there was much else they could do. Slowly, Jet removed his hands from Virginia's body, his skin screaming for the feeling of her bare body against his.
Gallows knew better than to sleep anytime in the near future.
---
It had been a banquet. That's what Jet remembered from his dream. Food, lots of it. Nice surroundings. And the sheriff, that damned Deadwood sheriff, across from him, sipping red wine. It had started nice. The meat, as he remembered, had been tender. It brought up slight memories of something he had only tasted once, slight and disturbing memories. He had sipped at the wine briefly, then put it down, not quite liking the taste. He couldn't remember what kind of taste it was. Just... that he didn't like it.
All the dialogue in the dream escaped him. There was something about life... his teammates... and the food. Jet couldn't remember what it was, but it caused the sheriff to take the cover off a platter.
Gallows's head. Eyes rolled up, mouth in a silent agonized scream. The next moments in memory were blurred, but he remembered knocking over the platter he had gotten his meat from. Clive's mutilated body had fallen off, a silent accusation written in every part of his body. And finally...
The sheriff had gotten up. Walked behind him. And stuck his wine goblet under the broken and crucified body of Virginia. He had thought it was another dead body when she raised her head, fixing a pained and pleading look at him.
Jet shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the memories. That hadn't happened. He knew that was a dream. It was a dream.
Virginia placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Jet...?" She didn't really need to bother, he had already pulled himself out of those memories. "Hey... you okay?"
Jet grabbed her hand, pinning it above her head. "You're always tryin' to help me out," he said calmly, his tight grip giving away his tension. "Always. You don't care..." At this, he kissed her. "If this is all just a dream." He looked down into her fearless eyes, trying not to betray his own terror. "If I can tell if this ain't a dream."
"What kind of dream do you think this is?"
"Fuck if I know!" Jet let go of her hand, both hands going to her breasts. "Fuck if I know why you let me do this. It ain't out of love or shit like that." He reached down, shoving up layers of material. "You don't even let me here." At this, he brushed her covered crotch. "You blow me and jerk me off, but fucking you? Not even." Jet covered her whimpering mouth with his, shoving her panties out of the way enough to touch slightly moistened skin. "I don't even know if this is real. I could be dreamin' about doin' this to you." He slid a finger into her, hesitating at her slightly pained cry. "I could still be back there, waitin' for the next torture session, and dreamin' about this." His finger slid in and out of her, his palm conveniently grinding into her clit. "Why the hell do you let me do it?" he demanded, shoving his finger deeply into her, savagely. "Why?"
Clive's gloved hand reached down, grabbing his elbow. "Because it's good for you."
Virginia nodded, hips still moving unconsciously. She swallowed, and licked her lips, obviously trying to get her brain back in order. "It's because your nightmares have gotten better afterwards," she said breathily. "And... that's what I'm supposed to help you with."
"As a leader?" Jet shot back, scornfully.
"No," Clive said, kissing his ear. "As your friends." He pressed in from behind him, reaching down to the growing bulge in Jet's pants. "Trust us, Jet."
"I thought I did," he grunted.
Virginia kissed him, surging up against his hand. "Tell us everything," she panted. "Your dreams, what happened back there... trust us." She whimpered at a particularly hard thrust.
"Do you think I can?" he hissed, trying to keep back his own whimper. Clive unzipped his pants, pulling free a straining erection. "Do you think I'm fucking able to put all that shit into words?"
"Try," Clive told him, fingers expertly stroking over the head before firmly settling at the shaft.
Jet's head tilted back as the older man's hand moved, groaning. Virginia shifted one last time, clinging to him. That was the last straw, and he leaned forward, nipping at her neck. He needed this, to feed the beast in his lower body. The feeling of wetness around his fingers, a warm and calloused hand on his cock was exactly what he needed. Something that a dream failed to deliver. Something real. "It was torture," he managed to get out, between licks and nips. "Mental, physical... he pulled out every trick to torture me." Clive's hand tightened, speeding up slightly. "And damn it, you fucking know I need this."
Virginia smiled, laughing slightly. "You know we care about you."
Yes, he knew. He knew every time he woke up and Clive had his back to him. He knew every time he woke, confused, to a familiar body hugging him close. Every kiss Virginia gave him, every time either one of them jerked him off. Fuck, even the little shit was obvious. The way Gallows made extra carrots. Virginia ordering a beer but ending up giving most of it to him. Clive's way of talking over things with him. Every damn little thing, making him addicted to feeling of belonging. Of touch, of having people that care. He felt Virginia's body shudder around his fingers, a rarely seen orgasm from her. Little noises fell from both of their mouths, an erotic symphony with Clive's heavy breathing and soft groans as a bass line.
Sounds spilled from their mouth, unintelligible to most, but simply a prayer to Raftina. A prayer, without words, answered quickly through a meld of sticky bodies and feeling of completeness. A feeling of belonging, too rare before, now becoming all too common as Jet looked into Virginia's satisfied face and Clive cleaned the boy's release off his fingers.
Too common indeed.
The End
Title: In This House of Leaves We'll Pray
Author: Spinny Roses
Fandom: Wild Arms 3
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Yaoi and het (Clive/Jet, Jet/Virginia)
Spoilers: Whole game, "Pleading Groping Hands; Bleeding in the Sand," and "Lie Beneath Imaginary Worlds"
Notes: Entire series is inspired by Poe's "Haunted." The Haunted Remixes are non-canon side-stories to "Pleading Groping Hands; Bleeding in the Sand" and "Lie Beneath Imaginary Worlds." Their relationship WILL NOT GO THAT FAR in "Pleading Groping Hands; Bleeding in the Sand" and "Lie Beneath Imaginary Worlds."
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Haunted Remixes
In This House of Leaves We'll Pray
By Spinny Roses
It came as a completely surprise to both Clive and Virginia that Jet was very loud during sex.
The change in their relationship came about as an attempt to calm the young android down after waking from a nightmare. They had started by trying to wake him up while he was in the throes of a particularly bad... nightmare? Memory? It was hard to say. It was a struggle for Jet to even let out the barest hint of what happened back at Deadwood. They had no idea how deep the wound ran, nor was there a way to truly measure it.
They found out how to calm him down completely by accident. One of the beds had broken at an inn. Gallows and Clive were too large to share a bed, and no one wanted to deal with Virginia's feet again. Gallows remembered quite well what happened the last time he was forced to share a bed with her. The bruises had almost faded and being woken up by icy feet was not fun.
So, instead of someone sleeping on the floor, Jet fell asleep with the warmth of Clive's back on his arm. It had been odd, to say the least. But when the nightmares came again, Clive's half-awake "I am married with a kid" reflexes came to the front and he sleepily hugged the smaller body to him. It was different enough that Jet woke, confused. Instead of instantly attacking what he perceived as a threat, he laid there, trying to remember why there was someone else in his bed and why he didn't feel panic about it.
They figured out very quickly that it was better for someone to sleep next to Jet. At first, everyone traded off. After a few times of being shoved off by Gallows and kicked mercilessly by Virginia, it was decided, for Jet's own health, that Clive should be the one to share a bed with him.
Both of them still woke up from time to time with bruises. Jet still occasionally lashed out in his sleep, one time managing to catch the older man in the throat with an unintentionally well-aimed punch. But the feeling of waking to someone holding him had slowly calmed his dreams down.
Which was sad, Jet reflected as he scrubbed his face clean. The nightmares were still there, still shattering. But considering before he had barely been able to tell the difference between awake and asleep? It was better that he knew what was a dream. The water splashed up over the counter as he rinsed with a little more effort than was needed. It was all a dream. He reached for his toothbrush with quivering fingers. A dream.
Long, calloused fingers reached past him, snagging a washcloth. Jet let out a long, annoyed breath and turned. "Whaddya want?" he growled, making a movement to shove the instrument up somewhere. Either his mouth or Clive's nose. Either would work, as long as the older man backed up and let him finish using the washroom.
Clive squinted at him, his glasses still probably back on the nightstand. He tended to leave them there until the last second, despite the fact he could not see well without them. "Good morning, Jet," he said pleasantly, in a post-coffee voice. "And how was your sleep?"
Which was a useless question. They both already knew. Jet's hand trembled only slightly as he answered. "It was sleep."
Clive gently ran the washcloth across the boy's face, the dry fabric soaking up the excess water on his skin. Jet braced himself, not willing to let him know what the soft touch did to him. It was the motions they went through. He wouldn't show the need for a touch, how waking to a caring, warm body had awaken an addiction within him. How that night had brought to fore hormones and emotions Jet thought, as the Filgaia Sample, he had been left without. The older man bent down, his breath smelling of warm and good coffee.
Which was exactly when a brown haired hurricane burst into the room. Which was almost literal, considering Virginia's sleep-knotted hair. Virginia half-awake was quite amusing, actually. They had tried to get her into the habit of laying in bed for a bit to wake up, joining Clive for coffee, or even to have a little breakfast with Gallows first. Every effort went unheeded as she proceeded to barge in on people in the washroom before her brain finally woke up.
This time, Virginia was halfway through brushing her hair when she realized there were two other people in the room. Better than usual; normally she was up to sliding out of her nightgown before noticing others. "Oh! Good morning!"
"Good morning," Clive responded, making a motion to push up missing glasses.
Virginia looked around, blushing a little as she realized what stunned position he had pulled himself out of. "Sorry." She started to walk out of the room, still furiously brushing her hair, then turned to Jet. With a frown, she leaned into his face. "... you had another really bad nightmare," she stated flatly.
Stay there, have a face-full of Virginia. Lean back, lean into Clive. What choices. He was about to let loose a non-committal answer when the girl gently touched his face. "Jet... when will you learn to trust us?"
See, he thought by letting someone sleep in the same bed as him, he was trusting them.
Carefully, she leaned in, kissing him. It didn't cause the walls to completely be broken down, but it fed the budding addiction in his gut. He unconsciously shifted his head slightly as Clive rested his lips against the android's soft neck, moaning into Virginia's mouth as an overtly warm tongue swiped up towards his ear. Jet hesitantly rested his hands on her soft curves, struggling against his emotions as Clive's hands stroked down from his shoulders. He had barely moved his hands to cup her breasts when there was a loud, annoying knock at the door.
"While it's great you aren't doing it again while I'm trying to sleep, other people are gonna need to use the washroom at some point!"
Gallows. Virginia briefly hit her head against Jet's shoulder, and turned. "We'll be out in a little bit!"
"Yeah, and then I gotta be in there smelling that. Bedroom's free, damn it!"
Clive exhaled next to Jet's ear. "Perhaps we should wait until a more favorable time," he said in a low voice. Virginia quickly nodded, and after a moment, Jet followed. Not like there was much else they could do. Slowly, Jet removed his hands from Virginia's body, his skin screaming for the feeling of her bare body against his.
Gallows knew better than to sleep anytime in the near future.
---
It had been a banquet. That's what Jet remembered from his dream. Food, lots of it. Nice surroundings. And the sheriff, that damned Deadwood sheriff, across from him, sipping red wine. It had started nice. The meat, as he remembered, had been tender. It brought up slight memories of something he had only tasted once, slight and disturbing memories. He had sipped at the wine briefly, then put it down, not quite liking the taste. He couldn't remember what kind of taste it was. Just... that he didn't like it.
All the dialogue in the dream escaped him. There was something about life... his teammates... and the food. Jet couldn't remember what it was, but it caused the sheriff to take the cover off a platter.
Gallows's head. Eyes rolled up, mouth in a silent agonized scream. The next moments in memory were blurred, but he remembered knocking over the platter he had gotten his meat from. Clive's mutilated body had fallen off, a silent accusation written in every part of his body. And finally...
The sheriff had gotten up. Walked behind him. And stuck his wine goblet under the broken and crucified body of Virginia. He had thought it was another dead body when she raised her head, fixing a pained and pleading look at him.
Jet shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the memories. That hadn't happened. He knew that was a dream. It was a dream.
Virginia placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Jet...?" She didn't really need to bother, he had already pulled himself out of those memories. "Hey... you okay?"
Jet grabbed her hand, pinning it above her head. "You're always tryin' to help me out," he said calmly, his tight grip giving away his tension. "Always. You don't care..." At this, he kissed her. "If this is all just a dream." He looked down into her fearless eyes, trying not to betray his own terror. "If I can tell if this ain't a dream."
"What kind of dream do you think this is?"
"Fuck if I know!" Jet let go of her hand, both hands going to her breasts. "Fuck if I know why you let me do this. It ain't out of love or shit like that." He reached down, shoving up layers of material. "You don't even let me here." At this, he brushed her covered crotch. "You blow me and jerk me off, but fucking you? Not even." Jet covered her whimpering mouth with his, shoving her panties out of the way enough to touch slightly moistened skin. "I don't even know if this is real. I could be dreamin' about doin' this to you." He slid a finger into her, hesitating at her slightly pained cry. "I could still be back there, waitin' for the next torture session, and dreamin' about this." His finger slid in and out of her, his palm conveniently grinding into her clit. "Why the hell do you let me do it?" he demanded, shoving his finger deeply into her, savagely. "Why?"
Clive's gloved hand reached down, grabbing his elbow. "Because it's good for you."
Virginia nodded, hips still moving unconsciously. She swallowed, and licked her lips, obviously trying to get her brain back in order. "It's because your nightmares have gotten better afterwards," she said breathily. "And... that's what I'm supposed to help you with."
"As a leader?" Jet shot back, scornfully.
"No," Clive said, kissing his ear. "As your friends." He pressed in from behind him, reaching down to the growing bulge in Jet's pants. "Trust us, Jet."
"I thought I did," he grunted.
Virginia kissed him, surging up against his hand. "Tell us everything," she panted. "Your dreams, what happened back there... trust us." She whimpered at a particularly hard thrust.
"Do you think I can?" he hissed, trying to keep back his own whimper. Clive unzipped his pants, pulling free a straining erection. "Do you think I'm fucking able to put all that shit into words?"
"Try," Clive told him, fingers expertly stroking over the head before firmly settling at the shaft.
Jet's head tilted back as the older man's hand moved, groaning. Virginia shifted one last time, clinging to him. That was the last straw, and he leaned forward, nipping at her neck. He needed this, to feed the beast in his lower body. The feeling of wetness around his fingers, a warm and calloused hand on his cock was exactly what he needed. Something that a dream failed to deliver. Something real. "It was torture," he managed to get out, between licks and nips. "Mental, physical... he pulled out every trick to torture me." Clive's hand tightened, speeding up slightly. "And damn it, you fucking know I need this."
Virginia smiled, laughing slightly. "You know we care about you."
Yes, he knew. He knew every time he woke up and Clive had his back to him. He knew every time he woke, confused, to a familiar body hugging him close. Every kiss Virginia gave him, every time either one of them jerked him off. Fuck, even the little shit was obvious. The way Gallows made extra carrots. Virginia ordering a beer but ending up giving most of it to him. Clive's way of talking over things with him. Every damn little thing, making him addicted to feeling of belonging. Of touch, of having people that care. He felt Virginia's body shudder around his fingers, a rarely seen orgasm from her. Little noises fell from both of their mouths, an erotic symphony with Clive's heavy breathing and soft groans as a bass line.
Sounds spilled from their mouth, unintelligible to most, but simply a prayer to Raftina. A prayer, without words, answered quickly through a meld of sticky bodies and feeling of completeness. A feeling of belonging, too rare before, now becoming all too common as Jet looked into Virginia's satisfied face and Clive cleaned the boy's release off his fingers.
Too common indeed.
The End