[fic] Digital Devil Saga, "History Doesn't Repeat"
History Doesn't Repeat Digital Devil Saga Gale/Roland oliolio. Not safe for work!
"Can we talk for a minute?" Roland asked.
Gale, who was going through Roland's records on the Junkyard, looked up. "What is it?"
Roland gave an apologetic, wan smile around the room. "Do you mind clearing out?" he asked, and made a vague gesture towards the door. "It's a bit private."
Argilla's eyebrows went up and she shrugged. "Up to you," she said, and Roland maintained the smile as she, Cielo, and Serph headed out.
Gale leaned back in Roland's desk chair -- getting comfortable there, Roland noticed -- and quirked his eyebrows. "Was that necessary?"
"Maybe not," Roland said. "But I feel better about it, anyway."
Gale inclined his head. "Well, then. What was it you wished to discuss."
Shakily, Roland took a deep breath. It was an uncomfortable feeling, really; he wanted a drink, and knew there was no point -- his drawers were empty now. And if he was really honest with himself, what he really wanted was to eat someone. Not that he was particularly comfortable being really honest with himself. He shook his head, mostly to himself, then reached into the stack of Asura Project discs. "Let me just set it up."
He took the chair as Gale vacated it, and slid the disc in. He was terribly aware of Gale's proximity in a vague, threatening sense, and gave Gale a faint smile. "Sorry," he said. "It won't take long."
It didn't; he had the character avatar data on screen a moment later.
It wasn't so much that Gale made some sort of noise of surprise. He didn't -- there was no gasp, no soft sound, nothing of the sort. Instead, Gale went dead silent and completely still.
"You know him," Roland said
Gale nodded. "Yes," he said and touched the bridge of his nose, a gesture that always reminded Roland of how his own glasses tended to slip. Gale's voice had only changed minutely, gained a tendency more huskiness, which was something that only happened when he was upset. "That was Lupa. He was the leader of the Wolves tribe, of Vishuda."
"And you said," Roland said, "that he was Fred's father."
"I believe so," Gale said. "Fred was carrying an olive leaf."
Roland lowered his gaze and smiled. "Greg always did believe that peace would come back sometime."
Gale's gaze focussed on him. "You do not?"
"No," Roland said. "I guess I don't think that's human nature."
"And don't you think," Gale said, as though testing the words in the air, "that humans can change?"
Roland said, "I don't know. Maybe... I hope so. What happened to him?"
"He died," Gale said. "We killed him."
"Ah," Roland said, and laughed.
Gale said, voice growing darker, "It is not a laughing matter."
"No," Roland said. "I didn't... think it was." He felt his brows crease and looked down instead at the desk. "Have you told Fred?"
And Gale hesitated. "I don't think," he said, "that he needs to know."
"Mmm," Roland said. He couldn't agree -- these are the things that Fred should know, if anything -- but he couldn't really disagree either; it couldn't be something Gale had an easy time talking about. "You liked him."
"Yes," Gale said. "And you."
"He was my best friend," Roland said, like that covered half the things Greg had been to him over the years: brother, father, hero. He passed a hand over his face like he could dismiss Greg's ghost that simply. "Well, I guess that answers that."
Gale's fingers lightly came to rest on the back of Roland's neck. "You are lonely?"
Roland shrugged, helplessly. "It's ... something like that," he agreed.
"That's more like it," Roland said. "I really want a drink."
Gale frowned minutely. "There are better ways to deal with your problems. A depressant is rarely the answer."
"I know, I know," Roland said, and quirked a smile. "I didn't say I was going to have one. Just that I wanted one." He leaned back in his chair. "I guess, when it comes down to it, I'm the type of guy who tries to forget. Booze, sex -- that sort of thing."
A nod. "I had guessed as much."
"No more, huh?" Roland asked. "That's what responsibility's about, I imagine." He rose from his chair, turned; Gale did not give him any room. "Um--"
Gale's hands came to rest on either side of Roland on the desk. "You do not," he said, "have to try to take the responsibility for the entire group."
"That is what makes your comrades valuable," Gale said. His face was very close. "That Adil, for example; he is your tactician. Such a role exists to take some of the weight off the leader, so they can make judgments with a clear mind."
"It's true," Roland said, not pointing out how he'd steadfastly ignored Adil's advice for years, down to giving himself atma. "Uh, but you--"
"Understand," Gale said, "that I consider this better than alcohol," and he kissed Roland.
If, previously, Roland had needed to guess at how Gale would kiss, he would have guessed him to be a precise kisser, the type of guy who keeps tongue to a minimum and avoids making the kiss get wet. He wouldn't have anticipated the teeth, but in retrospect he probably should have.
"Mmm--mmph," he said weakly.
Gale leaned back, very slightly, and licked his lips thoughtfully. "Unless you would prefer not to?" he asked.
"Uh, no," Roland said. "I mean, that's fine. Sure." Not that he was entirely sure it was, but he was abruptly kind of hard and Gale was giving him this look that was actually bordering on amusement.
Gale gave him a light nod. "Very well."
And that, it seemed, was that; before he had a chance for second thoughts -- Gale never seemed the epitome of sex, let alone of safe sex -- he found himself pinned to his desk with the edge in his back and Gale leaning heavily between his thighs, kissing him.
"Um," Roland managed as Gale's mouth moved to his throat, the sound little more than a vague protest that made Gale snort at him, very lightly.
"I'm not likely to lose control," Gale said.
Roland exhaled and lifted a hand to Gale's side. "Thanks for that," he said.
"Certainly," Gale said, and unzipped Roland's pants.
"Ungmbun," Roland said articulately as Gale's hand closed around his cock, firm and solid. "You--"
"Must you talk?" Gale asked, and leaned over him, one hand planted on the desk beside Roland's head, the other stroking Roland briskly. His eyes seemed to glitter, even glow, in a way that Roland couldn't call natural at the best of times.
"Ah," Roland said. "I guess not," and he tried not to, eyes half closing, leaning back and letting Gale drag him closer to orgasm with each stroke, not teasing in the slightest.
After a few long moments of silence, Gale said, "Good," and the sound of his voice -- heavy and pleased -- startled Roland into coming faster than he thought, groaning and arching into it.
Glasses steamed up, panting and sweating, he managed to lift one arm and wipe away sweat. "Thanks," he said, though it felt kind of lame. "And, uh, you?"
"I'm fine," Gale said.
"Let me," Roland said, and Gale shrugged, slid into the seat.
"As you prefer, then," Gale said.
Roland ran a hand through his close-cropped hair and slid to his knees, putting a hand on Gale's groin. "You mind?"
Gale hesitated a long moment, and Roland could understand why -- comrades or not, everyone here was well aware that they could end up eating the others at any time. "Go ahead," he said, and Roland ducked his head.
It was kind of embarrassing, being trusted by Gale. He unzipped, put his mouth around Gale's cock, and tried just to think about that -- it had been a long time since he'd sucked cock, and something he was always kind of anxious about, because most of the times he had were humiliating ones. Gale's hand came to rest on the back of Roland's head and he thought: it's different now, though; not that I'm making something of my life, maybe, not really, but I'm not wasting it any more and in the grand scheme of things, stopping moving backwards is almost like moving forwards, perhaps. He closed his eyes, inhaled Gale's scent, and moved.
As always, it took longer than he'd anticipated, leaving him breathless and sore, and -- unusual and awkward -- kind of hungry, though he managed to control himself, kept his teeth from Gale's flesh as Gale made a faint noise and pressed Roland's head down as he came. Roland sat back a moment later, panting faintly, his atma sparking as he wiped the back of his mouth.
Gale looked disheveled. Not a usual look for the guy, his hood askew and hair coming loose from its perfectly slick hairstyle. Slowly, he pushed himself back upright in the chair. "Better?" he asked, voice calm, like he hadn't just come in Roland's mouth.
"Yeah," Roland said. He stood again, knees aching slightly, and thought: this doesn't mean anything bad in the long run.