[fic] Digital Devil Saga, "This Garden Once was Perfect" This Garden Once was Perfect Digital Devil Saga Heat/Sera Not safe for work~~ Oh snap it's het. Wine Red - The Hush Sound. Lyrics. (Hey, even if you don't read, comment if you dl the song, okay? XD It's good musics. XD)
Later, Heat corners her with some urge to apologize. He's not sure what's going to happen from here on in when they make it to Ajna, but if Lupa's promises are true then that'll be the last of the leaders and it's on to Nirvana from there. He feels -- wrong, bad, tense and unhappy with the last things they've said and done, and he doesn't know how to say it.
"What is it, Heat?" she asks.
And from here his tongue ties; he stares at her in frustration, makes an abrupt gesture with his hand, finds himself growling low and irritably. "It's just--"
She flinches. Her eyes drop at once, guilt crossing her face. "I'm sorry," she says.
"It's all my fault," she says. "I didn't mean to run... I hurt you, I know."
"It's fine," Heat says. "That's fine. I'm the one who should be -- you know, it's my damn fault. There's no point acting like it isn't."
It's making things worse. He can tell from the way she doesn't say anything, from the way she just turns away and bites her lower lip, and goddammit. He's staring at her lips again, forces his gaze away with a sick feeling because last time... last time. He grasps her shoulders, shakes her gently, forces her to look at him. "I'm sorry," he says.
"Heat," she says, and he hates the feeling of pity in her tone, hates knowing that it's for him and him alone, the only thing she feels especially for him. Serph would never hear it; Serph would never be in this situation.
"I'll just..." go, he thinks, and he can't quite say it. He wants to kiss her again, like that would make his position any clearer. His stomach's so tight it hurts. "...Sera."
"Heat," she says again, a little stronger, and lifts her hands, rests them on his upper arms. Her forehead is creased as with pain, and her eyes are sad, and she says, "whatever you want from me--"
"Don't," he says, because if she offers he doesn't think he'd be strong enough to hold back. Not if she's offering.
"-- Whatever you want from me is fine, but please, don't be so cruel to Serph," she says. "He is strong, Heat, and his strength is the type that--"
He reels her in against his chest abruptly, wraps his arms around to hold her there. "Don't," he growls, more hurt than angry. Not right now, he thinks, not right now, please, and he presses his face to the top of her head. Her hair's soft and slick and smells strange, not like anything he can put his name of, but which makes him think, oddly, of bubbles rising through water.
Sera is very still for a long moment and then her body relaxes with a strange shivering sigh. She says, "I don't think I'm a very good person, Heat."
Heat doesn't move; he's not sure he can. "...What do you mean?"
"I don't remember," she says. "Whenever I try..." she winces, presses her forehead roughly against the body armor over Heat's chest. "But I don't think I was a good person. I think... I don't belong here. I know... I know you feel a lot for me, Heat, and I know I'm hurting you, but you mustn't blame Serph. If anything, blame me."
"No," he says.
"No," he repeats, and shakes her again, only managing to control his strength when her teeth close on her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. He lets go of one of her shoulders, touches his thumb to her lip. "I don't care."
Sera's eyes widen. "Heat--"
"I don't. Whoever you are, and whatever you've done. I don't care." He touches his thumb to his lips. Her blood tastes strange and different, heavy.
Another shiver, and she says, "I think I'm changing."
"Changing?" he asks, mildly alarmed -- she hasn't gained atma, and the thought of it's bizarre at best, but whatever; if it happens, they can take care of it. "What d'you mean?"
"Since you... since that time," she says. "I feel like I ...need something."
"I don't know," she says, but she turns her face up towards him, leans up, and he thinks Hell. Hell, hell-- and kisses her again.
He tries to make it gentler this time, though he's not sure he succeeds; his senses are flooded by her, the taste of her blood and the taste of her mouth and her scent, so that his world comes down to his mouth; not the first time, probably won't be the last that everything else tunes itself out. He crushes her to him again, kisses with tongue and teeth like he can tease her soul out through her flesh and she makes a high-pitched noise that's more whine than anything else, rises to the tips of her toes so that he's holding all her weight, and kisses back.
Heat's heart is aching and his eyes are stinging and he doesn't dare stop and find out he's wrong again; instead he closes his eyes and drags her closer, tastes her blood on her lips. He throbs in his arm and at his groin.
She makes a noise like a whimper and reaches up to cover his eyes with one hand. He lets her, like it's easier if he's blinded. Her hand is sweating and he can feel its slickness against his face.
"Sera," he mouths against her lips without any sound and she makes a hitching sound; he thinks she's crying again and tenses to let her go.
"No, no," she says. "No--" and takes one of his hands, slides it to her leg, says, "no," again, plaintively.
Heat exhales against her and slides his hand up over the lean curve of her hip, down and forward; she's hot between her legs and the feel of that makes him swear, hunger stabbing through him so hard it almost hurts.
"Okay," she says, her voice tiny, and she moves backwards; he moves with her as she sinks down, because he's not sure he could let her go now if he tried, and he doesn't want to stop kissing her, doesn't want to stop tasting her blood on his lips and her breath in his mouth. She squirms under him, jerkily and uncertain, tugging the shorts of her underthings off, and he mutters her name again; it's getting hard to breathe and damn uncomfortable. Still, he doesn't quite dare undress himself, not if it'd upset her, and instead he leans against the blinding weight of her hand and touches her again without her shorts in the way.
Sera cries out, a high and startled sound that breaks in the middle, edging into pain as he slides his finger down and starts to press into her. He freezes, and she shakes her head, sudden and abrupt enough that he can feel it. "Just," she says, and then pulls her hand from his eyes so the light is a sudden dazzling surprise. "Just don't..." and she scrabbles at his hips, fights with the protective gear until he can help her get it off, pushes his shorts down to his thighs and frees his erection with a sigh of relief, though he feels like he's got to be shaking with need, can hardly find anything to think.
"Don't--?" he manages, finally, to question. There are tears in her eyes and she reaches up and covers his again. He holds still, mouth open, tastes the air and her sweat; it feels humid in the air between them.
"Don't hold back," she says, and puts a hand on his hip, tugs without any real strength behind the gesture.
He fumbles against her, slips the first time before he can reach down to steady himself and push in; under him, she tenses up and even through his body armor he can feel her fingers digging into his back and the sound she makes seems torn bloodily from her throat. He leans forward, presses his mouth to her throat and kisses it. Under his lips her pulse is racing.
"Go on," she says, the sound faint, shaken, but without doubt. He shifts his weight as best he can to take it off her, exhales roughly, moves.
She's wet and soft and tight and Sera, and he can't last long like this; he almost can't hear the sounds she's making over the roughness of his own voice, and he grits his teeth, tries to draw it out, strokes a hand down her body, feels the coarse material of her top and her skirt. He mutters her name.
"I don't want to remember," she tells him abruptly, high and pained and desperate. "Heat, I don't--"
He tries to reach up a hand to pet her hair, can't quite make it past her shoulder, shaking and on the edge. "Then... don't," he manages, hoarse. "You're fine... as you are."
"I'm sorry," she sobs. "I'm sorry, Heat, I couldn't--" but he can't hear the rest; he's aching and coming in a nerve-jangling rush, groaning into her throat, hips pressing bruisingly against hers.
Sera's hand falls away from his eyes.
It takes a long moment of just breathing, suddenly exhausted and drained, before he can push himself up and look at her. Under him, she's shivering, hips twitching, dusty from the gritty floor with tear tracks down her face. Guilt settles into his stomach. "Sera," he begins. "I--"
She reaches up, puts a hand on his chest, pushes gently. He slides out of her and he sees her wince, but she doesn't stop, keeps pushing until he's on his back on the floor. "You're tired," she says, soft. "Sleep."
And he does, before he can have a chance to even notice it sneaking up on him.
He wakes, later, to the sound of talking. He props himself up on an elbow and looks around; the others are in the room, discussing plans around the table; Sera's seated on a rock and gazing out over the Junkyard. He's dressed and clean, and rubs at his face to shake away the remains of sleep.
"Feel better, bro?" Cielo asks. "You look like you needed dat sleep."
"Uh, yeah," Heat says. "What's going on?"
"It's time to continue on towards Ajna," Gale says. "We have properly resupplied and had the chance to rest up."
"Okay," Heat says, distracted. "Fine--" and he cuts himself off from saying anything as Sera slides from the window into the room; Serph's heading out already and she follows after, limping faintly. "Now?"
"Now," Gale says. "Is there a problem?"
"No," Heat says, and if he wants suddenly to call the whole thing off, there's no point even worrying about it; it's not like the others would stop at this point. It's a stupid impulse, he thinks. Once they beat the Brutes, they'll have the Junkyard to themselves and nothing left to do but reach Nirvana. Time to rush on and finally succeed.