Moments - (A \'Beyond fate\' extra)

Title: Moments
Author: Ainzfern
Genre: Ai no Kusabi – Post OVA
Code: Mmm... Who indeed? *EVIL GRIN*
Story edits and Beta – Lena
Rating: R/NC-17
Parts: 1/1
Summary: In everybody’s life, there are moments that will always be remembered; some profound, some quite small, moments that are simply but one of many threads in the tapestry of a person’s existence. Set after the events of ‘Beyond fate, there is always choice’.
Archiving: Cool - if you want to - just let me know.
Feedback: Sure. All comments welcomed! ainzfern@hotmail.com

Author’s Notes: Just a little one-shot, really. A single scene that got into my head part-way through writing ‘Beyond fate...’ and refused to get out until I wrote it down, LOL! A chance to check in with two particular characters in the series and see what they might possibly have been getting up to in the months following the last story.



Night had fallen over the capital city of New-Vincentia and, in the bedroom suite of a luxurious room in the city’s finest hotel, the lights were dimmed and the sweetly compelling sounds of effort and ecstasy filled the air; a caught breath, a low deep groan, the whispering shift of naked limbs across cool white linen...

Upon the bed amidst the twisted sheets he moved, hard and deep, within the tight and clinging flesh of his lover. He was reaching the end, he knew, the outermost limits of his rapidly faltering control; yet he wanted, needed, to see the exquisite pleasure of climax take hold of the strong pale body under him. Desperate as he was to come, driven by a male’s ancient and instinctive drive to ejaculate, he still held back. Propped on one strong arm, he continued to snap his pelvis forward in powerful smooth motions, driving into the willing body under him, angling his thrusts so that the head of his cock repeatedly came into contact with the sweet sullen spot hidden within his lover’s hot passage. Between their heaving bodies, his other hand gripped hard hot flesh at the apex of wide-spread thighs, stroking, milking, urging the supine straining form under him to join him in the bliss of completion.

Sweat shimmered over their skin, dampening their hair and pooling into the place where their bodies were so delightfully united. The cool breeze that came through the open window above the bed and shifted the light lace curtains in a slow billowing wave whispered here and there across their skin, raising gooseflesh that was hardly felt in the frantic heat of the moment. Their breathing, raised in a harsh harmony of ragged gasps, filled the moonlit room.

Panting deeply, working towards that ultimate moment, he forced himself to see and hear, rather than just feel, gauging the pitch of his lover’s low cries, the depth of the flush darkening the smooth skin of his neck and shoulders. Meeting the passion-hazed, luminous eyes that stared up at him, he leaned in and kissed his lover’s parted lips before rearing up again, deepening his strokes, concentrating the motion of his stroking hand to match the rhythm of his driving hips.

And he felt it happen, felt the sharp sweet clenching of silky tight internal muscles around his aching shaft as his lover began to come; felt the slick heat of his lover’s essence spilling out over his rapidly pumping fist, saw those beautiful eyes scrunch shut, a helpless look of pained pleasure twisting that perfect face. And he heard his lover’s voice raised sweetly in unbelievable pleasure, a strangled, almost lost little sound that signaled his helpless slide into the profound physical ecstasy of orgasm.

Finally letting go of his splintering control, he surrendered to his own peak, feeling the pleasure rise up, white hot and sweet, through his thighs and belly. He felt the cresting wave suddenly break, searing heat flashing through him as he came, exquisitely hard, magnificently forcefully, his body emptying itself in a series of pulsing surges. He gripped the strong lean frame under him as he shuddered through the pinnacle, voicing his joy in a series of harsh low cries and fervent whispered words of adoration and desire.

In the aftermath he rested for an endless moment, wanting nothing more than to lay his head down upon a smooth warm shoulder and stroke satin-soft skin over and over. After a few more moments, he raised himself up slightly, propped on his elbows, as he smiled with genuine and deep affection down into a flawless, sated face.

“Well?” he asked softly, pushing a few strands of sweat-soaked hair off a smooth brow.

Dazed eyes opened, a slow smile curved kiss-bruised lips. “It was...” his lover panted softy still, catching his breath, “...Interesting. I’ll allow that much, Chey.”

Chuckling softly, Chey shook his head. “You never give an inch, do you, Tahna?”

Tahna smiled up at him again, his expression unrepentantly superior. “Not if I can help it. But then, you knew that going in, my dear.”

“Oh, I sure as hell did.” Leaning close, Chey kissed him once more, gently and with gratitude, as he carefully withdrew. He winced a little in sympathy as he heard Tahna gasp a slight sound of discomfort, reaching down between the Blondie’s long legs, uncaring of the slickness, to gently stroke his fingertips over the sensitive opening hidden there. “Does this hurt?”

“Not really,” Tahna stretched and sighed. “A little tender, that’s all.”

Relaxing, Chey moved to one side and onto his back, reaching over to pull Tahna into his arms. “Okay... so tell me, did you like it? Or should we resign ourselves to nights filled with the passion and fury of shared crossword puzzles?”

Snickering softly, Tahna rubbed his cheek against Chey’s shoulder. “No, I liked it.” His tone was matter of fact. “It was actually far more pleasant than I had anticipated.”

“My goodness. Such praise,” Chey snorted gracelessly, easing his fingers through Tahna’s disheveled mass of hair.

“But, you have to admit,” Tahna said dryly, “The whole process is far less... messy... when one has a Furniture in attendance to clean up afterwards.”

“Over my dead body, love.”

Tahna’s warm breath brushed against his chest as he sighed. “I thought you might say that, you complete and utter philistine.”

Chey’s deep laughter filled the room for moment. “Snob,” he shot back.

“Ignoramus.”

“Bitch.”

Smiling, Tahna raised himself up on one arm and looked almost patiently down into Chey’s eyes. “All I am saying is- - “

“I know what you’re saying, Tahna,” Chey cupped the Blondie’s beautiful face with one hand, his smile warm and filled with fondness. “And it isn’t going to happen. You keep your Furniture, and your Pets, on your side of the universe... and I’ll keep my towering federation principles on mine, okay?”

Tahna’s smile softened. “Meeting in the middle, hmm?”

“Haven’t we always?”

“I suppose we have.” Tahna laid his head down on Chey’s shoulder once more.

Lying there, with his arms full of sweet-smelling satisfied Blondie, Chey took a few moments to review the last few days.

The grand New-Vincentia museum’s exhibit of the latest finds from the archeological excavation on the southern continent had been a resounding triumph. Taking into account his already established professional relationship with the Elite of Amoi, Chey had found very little resistance from his senate peers when he had suggested he should attend the week’s worth of official proceedings. In fact, as far as they had been concerned, he had been welcome to it.

Naturally, he had known that Tahna Lam would be there.

Chey had to confess, he enjoyed a rather odd connection with the feisty head of the Tanagura syndicate’s department of antiquities and history. Seldom together, due to their differing schedules and commitments, and communicating mostly via video-link, Chey still had to admit that what they had managed to develop was, indeed, a relationship. A long distance relationship, to be sure. A relationship hindered in many ways by differing ideologies and personal histories, but still a relationship.

For example, Tahna absolutely refused to consider the notion of ridding himself of his Pets, even in spite of the fact that Amoi’s social reforms made it perfectly acceptable not to own them. As far as the Blondie was concerned, they still were a social and cultural requirement, vital to his standing within the select and highly appearance-conscious artistic Elite community he inhabited. At the same time, Chey adamantly refused to embrace Tahna’s point of view on that particular subject, insisting that the Blondie divest himself of such trappings whenever he ventured off-world.

So they met in the middle... agreed to disagree, had lengthy discussions and splendid arguments over the whole thing and still, somehow, managed to fall in love.

This odd agreement, this compulsion to spend time in each other’s company had gone on more or less continually over the last few months, and, Chey had to admit, it wasn’t showing any signs of diminishing in the foreseeable future. Quite the opposite, really.

They had become lovers tonight, halfway through a light dinner in the Tahna’s luxurious hotel room.

Of course, they had been moving towards it for some time, Chey mused as he smiled and dipped his head to press his face into the satin hair on the crown of Tahna’s head. The dynamic of their odd friendship had irreversibly altered some weeks back during lunch together in Chey’s suite in Partia, where he had been staying while facilitating the set-up of a cooperative project between the federation’s sciences department and Raoul Am’s bio-mechanical fabrication company.

Tahna had been in great form, gorgeously furious about an incident that had occurred with a small section of the find on New-Vincentia and, while they sat together having coffee on the plush sofa of the suite; he had naturally shared his discontent in his usual eloquent way. Chey had let him speak unhindered for a while, but then the impulse had come over him and he’d not spared so much as a thought to it before acting. Simply no longer able to resist, Chey had leaned in and kissed the Elite right in the middle of his towering diatribe regarding the fundamental ineptitude of the New-Vincentia museum’s restoration department.

Initially, Tahna had been quite shocked, even slightly dismayed, rearing away from Chey and staring at him with his huge violet eyes full of faint alarm. Undaunted, Chey had moved in close again, gotten a proper grip on the startled Blondie and really gone to town. He had been delighted, not to say quite relieved, when after a few more moments of frozen surprise, Tahna had responded with a level of enthusiasm that, quite frankly, rather astonished them both.

But the kiss had inevitably changed things; made them, especially Tahna, more physically aware of each other. The prospect of intimacy began to hover over the horizon and, although Tahna kept insisting that Pets more than met that particular need for him as an Elite, Chey himself knew that ‘watching’ sure as hell wasn’t ‘doing’.

And, in the end... tonight, in fact, it was Tahna who had made the conscious decision. Right in the middle of the main course, he had laid his fork down, heaved a great sigh and practically demanded to be shown what all the wretched fuss was about.

So Chey had. With his usual care and exquisite attention to detail, he had taken his fractious Blondie to bed and turned him into a lover.

Now, he roused himself from his thoughts and gave Tahna’s warm body a gentle squeeze, directing his attention to more pertinent details. “Tahna?” he murmured.

“Mmm?”

“C’mon,” Chey gently released his hold and sat up, stretching happily, “you’ll need a shower before you go to sleep.”

“No. I don’t want to move,” Tahna sighed sleepily, “I’m quite comfortable.”

Chey chuckled knowingly. “You won’t be once the wet spot gets cold, love.”

Tahna’s eyes opened a little, shooting him a suspicious glance. “The what?”

Chey grinned down at him. “Try moving a little, it explains itself.”

Frowning, Tahna shifted slightly on the bed, his face immediately creasing into an expression of horror. “Oh my G- - That is disgusting!”

“Comes with the territory, I’m afraid.” Chey scooted out of bed, rounding the end of it and standing next to Tahna, looking down at him with an unrepentant grin.

“Don’t look so insufferably smug,” Tahna grumbled as he sat up and swung his elegantly long legs out of the bed. “Next time it’s your turn.”

Laughing, Chey pulled him close and kissed that scowling face. “I’m going to hold you to that, you know.”

Tahna leaned back and arched a brow at him, clear affection shining from his eyes in spite of the snooty little expression still on his perfect face. “Chey?” he asked, his tone artfully light.

“Mmm?”

“Wash me off, dear.”

Laughing, completely satisfied in this moment with the universe and his current place in it, Chey took his hand and led him into the bathroom.


END