Native Tongue

A/N: There is a nicely formatted, and convenient copy of this story on my HagiSaya LJ Comm, locked for members only. I’ve even embedded html so that translations would hover over the French with mouse over. If not, well here it is, the best I can mange to copy and paste it. Enjoy.

"Aimer, c'est avoir du plaisir à voir, toucher, sentir par tous les sens, et d'aussi près que possible un objet aimable qui nous aime."

~Stendhal

Love is finding pleasure in seeing, touching, feeling through all the senses, being as close as possible to a lovable object that loves us.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Native Tongue


The leader of a wolf pack will claim rights to his female amongst the others. He is the only one with the right to eat first and the right to mate. The pack follows this alpha male doubtlessly, wherever he may lead them.

The alpha-female is his alleged and rightful partner, until death. This jurisdiction, under no circumstance, is second-guessed.

In bats, however, there are no alpha-males and in Chiropteran, only the alpha-female exists. With only room to serve unconditionally, as a Queen’s knight, the line between sovereignty is clear from the beginning.

And even knowing this is their way of life, the way of their species, Haji was one thing first before he was a Chiropteran. He was a man.

“What’s wrong, Haji?”

As subtle the lift in his proud chin was, as swift as his territorial glare - Haji really was a man of pride, although he swallowed much of it in the name of loyalty and love.

“Nothing at all.”

The Chevalier should have expected a time when the hierarchy threatened to be toppled and he grew tired of his shield and sword, a tad thirsty for a crown. As sinful as this desire was, it was one he could not bury completely. And judging by the giggles he overheard amongst his lover and his nieces, it seemed his desire was not entirely misplaced or unwanted.

“You’ve been skipping over the same note. It isn’t like you to mess up,” Saya teased from inside the room, knowing he was perched on the roof above the window strumming to the wind.

“I apologize.”

His nieces were in a phase of dating human males, and would drag their aunt with them into their bedrooms before her heel had barely set weight into the Omoro. On strict orders from Saya, the Chevalier kept his distance while they indulged in girlish prattle, but even a mile away, Haji was still able to catch a word or two.

“Are we distracting you, uncle Haji?” The twins asked in unison, following in on their aunt’s thread of questioning and the musician shook his head.

“Not at all.”

He’d almost forgotten what it was like to be human. The majority of human males of this day and age were brutal; Their existence nothing more than a constant showdown of arrogance and political hierarchy. Despite their reckless rituals of shuffling through several broken hearts with their treacherous attempts to woo, by whistling and insinuating in ways that were close to insult, but mistaken for humor by their potentials - on a daily basis, he’d witnessed these men returning to a bar at the end of the night to share the tales amongst their fellow bigots.

As much as he despised this ritual, there was one feature of man that Haji found he painfully might have missed.

Whatever this feature was, it was something he’d been forgetting ever since that fateful day when he’d been turned. Perhaps, he’d just become too selfless.

The musician had never applied much thought to it until what felt like moments ago as it repeated in his ears. He’d never forget the words he overheard an hour ago, before he casually landed on the roof, his mouth agape with the intention of calling for his Queen when the subject of a muted conversation hushed him into silence.

His ears grew hot and the Chevalier was about to announce his arrival with the clearing of his throat when the laughter below continued to subdue him.

You’re right. Maybe it would be nice if Haji were a bit more… dominant at times, I guess.

Dominance? At first, he surmised that it was a joke and maybe he’d misunderstood. He heard her correct herself.

No, no, no- actually, dominant isn’t the word. What I meant- well, what I meant was-

What was it? He hadn’t meant to wait, but without realizing, his breath had stilled without his consent.

I just wish he’d do things out of his own initiative. I don’t want him to be this Chevalier robot, always serving my every whim blindly, even in, well-

She dared not utter the rest although her nieces did a wondrous job guessing. When their aunt became uncomfortable, they opted for a change in subject.

Was he angry? Was he hurt? Haji brushed it off, settling for announcing himself with song since it was obvious that the women were nowhere near finished with their socializing. He’d done so well pushing any internal conflict from his mind with music, Saya’s voice had startled him, causing his bow to jerk. Its shriek caused the three Queens to shield their ears in pain.

“I’m sorry.”

“Uncle Haji!” The girls chirped, crowding their aunt on both shoulders as they hung out of the windowsill to look up.

“It’s okay, Haji. Is it time to go?”

“Whenever you are ready, I will be here.”

The girls took this as permission to flutter back into the room, dragging his lover behind where he presumed they were trying on various pairs of shoes. He continued to play, keeping his eyes on the skyline and not realizing he was skipping over parts of the score.

When he looked down again, all three girls cradled their chins in their palms, the same look of mischief over each of them, and their eyes looking larger than usual from his angle.

“I think your uncle may be losing his touch,” Saya chuckled.

The comment dug deeper than she’d ever know. There were few skills that Haji would prefer to never rust- one was music and the other-

He bit down the force that teetered at his front teeth. When she was ready, he swooped over rooftops with ease, guiding her through the night in silence. Saya persisted, “Haji, are you feeling all right today?”

“I’m fine.”

He nodded, leaving all the mystery and complication for her to unravel herself. Arriving at their apartment, she eagerly reached for his face. In his first act of rebellion, he rejected her with the excuse of dinner preparation, leaving her arms dangling in bewilderment. When he welcomed her into his embrace that night, he refused any ingenious passes from her.

They slept still, but restlessly - burning questions on their minds, and the unspoken being the loudest in the room.

Regret nagging at him, the Chevalier felt that he deserved to die for what he was doing, but there was a man beginning to resurface in him. And this new man argued that he was doing what was right for the both of them.

“Do you want to go outside today?” Haji offered, indirectly remembering a leather-bound journal he favored at a store window.

When she answered with a lazy grunt beneath the sheets, “Nah, I think I want to stay here and do nothing,” he made the most difficult decision of his yet.

“I will return in a while, then.”

He could feel the shock thicken inside the room, but he was too afraid to face it. For the first time in a long time, he was disagreeing with her and venturing out on his own. And it was not on accord of her safety or a matter of knowing what was the wiser decision. It was a matter of him wanting to do something other than what she suggested. Just because; He just wanted to.

The wind in his face sounded like scolding when he left, but something was making his blood rile up, and it kept him going. At the least, he would not be long.

And when he returned, he found that this was about all he could endure - of playing this game, tipping her crown and teasing her for it without her even realizing. He caught that sigh of hers as she busied herself with dishes. As Saya engaged him in random small talk, he could smell her arousal. The musk made his mouth water.

Saya wanted and yet, for his sake, she was refusing herself. She was resisting her natural urge to control. To lead. To ask. To demand.

Haji broke.

Stalking his prey, light in step, but heavy with intention, he locked Saya’s waist against the counter with his own. Surprised, she hiccupped when he inhaled her hair, her stimulated fears, and excited anticipation. Her hands were shackled to tiles only by soap and distance, her rigid stance compromised by the phalanges behind her knees. A heartbeat ricocheted against her shoulder blades; Haji secured a meaty thigh in each palm.

“Permettez-moi de vous toucher.”

These words formally dressed as a request, but a demand in disguise, the man dipped a hand in between any protests, and firmly kneaded out any doubts until Saya’s yes began to hiss. The Chevalier sampled her earlobe as he tested the rim of her underwear. When she was on the brink of begging, he snatched up her surrender as if she’d been keeping it all to herself the entire time. Claiming ownership, he leaned his lady over so that he could relish in the sight of her arching spine before him.

A button popped into the sink as her blouse was ripped open and he growled, “Permettez-moi de vous entendre.” Her ribs stalled his curious fingers with every catch, with every sink, but her breasts spilled eagerly into famished hands.

“Haji, I- hand towel-”

Her mind at colorful disarray, she tried to blindly feel the counter for something- anything to dry her hands and grant her control, but she came up empty handed, still lathered in soap and her French still too novice to properly answer. Every time the Queen attempted to swivel her direction, he ensnared her position against the sink, a light chuckle tickling the nape of her neck. Sensing her frustration whenever she’d look away, Haji would lead her chin back again.

“Regardez-moi. Look at me, Saya.”

Gently nipping her lips, he cooled her fury and felt her relax against his swathe of flexing muscle and sweat.

“Êtes-vous fâché?”

Saya re-focused to her loyal Chevalier’s solemn gaze, where she knew no harm would ever be seen, no ill intent. No matter what plateaus this man was trying to explore, in the end, his life’s purpose was to protect and to love without condition.

Bits and pieces coming back to her, Saya sighed against his mouth, “Jamais.”

Hiding the subtle smirk that threatened to become obvious, the brunette kissed her, this time with more determination. Separating for a breath’s worth, he whispered, “Appelle-moi.”

Haji’s long fingers tread the stitching along her lacey underwear, before slickly pushing into layers of thickening flesh and wagging along her walls.

“Haji!”

“Yes, Saya?”

“S'il vous plait…”

“Please- what- Saya?”

Every syllable, a deliberate mockery against her ear, Saya knew that if she were going to get some satisfaction this time, she’d have to beg. She’d have to melt. Raise her white flag. And truthfully, Queen or not, as a woman, Saya did not care!

“Haji! J'ai besoin de toi.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” she hissed, only the fists on his pants behind keeping her upright and the counter keeping her from collapsing into a heap of limbs. Haji continued to twist and rotate his fingers inside her, getting Saya on her toes, her head lashing back as if ready to beckon the Gods.

She moaned loudly, “Je t'aime.” As he sucked at her neck, he smiled against her bruising skin, “J'adore quand tu cries à moi.”

She repeated again with more fervor, something feral beginning to surface from her, “Je t'aime si beaucoup! Haji!”

“Dis-moi que vous l'aimez, Saya. Tell me.”

Unable to give him exactly what he was asking for, her back beginning to ache due to his body preventing her throbbing hips from thrusting, she could only say the same again, this time back in English, “I love you…so…much-

-Prends-moi s'il vous plait!”

When she offered her neck and practically collided with her lover, Haji stopped abruptly. Confused, he whispered, “Saya?”

“Feed from me, Haji. Plea-”

“I can’t,” he cut off before she even had the chance to finish. For the first time within their minutes of rising passion, the Chevalier took back his selfless nature. What she was asking, no matter how aroused he managed to get her, was something he could not do. Not ever.

It was against their hierarchy as a species. A Chevalier was not to feed from his Queen, no matter the state of affairs. A Knight’s only purpose from the moment he’s been converted from humanity is to serve, to protect, and to love. To think of oneself before his Queen, was to ask for death. The act was taboo and went against the very existence of the Chevalier.

Attempting to distract by pleasure, he was about to continue where they had left off when he heard her beg in a way he’d never heard.

“Take me, Haji. Je veux être le vôtre.”

“You are mine. Saya. For eternity.”

His refusal sounded like pain, hunger, as he could no longer bear to taste her neck and bit his own lips in an effort to defy. There was an agonizing stretch of seconds before Saya whipped her head back against his shoulder, reciting his name carefully like an ancient Latin chant.

He then spun her around, and dove into her lips. Their teeth grinding like forks on a plate. Quickly, he unbuckled his slacks with a jingle and exposed his swollen member. Breaking from her, he directed her to her knees. Wordlessly, he gave his command and she obeyed. Saya, without hesitation, took him fully into her mouth. He watched almost completely red in the face because he’d managed to pull it off, and Saya would occasionally look up with flustered cheeks before he heard the smack of her lips. Favoring this temporary power shift, the musician guided her hand to cup him, and he rewarded her with a brush of his fingers over her brow.

Fire brewed in the pit of his stomach, it licked and lashed at his will with every plunge into her. At wit’s end, the Chevalier recklessly hoisted her on top of the counter again. Her heels against his back, she exhaled noisily with the relief of his chest warming against hers. His thumb buttoning her navel, the Knight kissed her messily, and Saya’s groan shook his tongue.

“Plus difficile,” she whimpered and Haji complied, his hand returning to work, his claw keeping her from tipping over the dish rack. Saya had discarded any care and raked at his neck, tearing his shirt as the soap stung their eyes and trickled down their throats.

When his shirt crumpled to his feet, her fingers recaptured him and the man’s hips jerked forward. Her hold on him unrelenting, Haji realized this was a wrestle for dominance and his initial goal was to make sure she relinquished this role to him. The Queen was ready to announce victory when he shoved the dish rack aside and pushed her towards the wall, successfully keeping himself out of reach as he traced her sternum with an open mouth. When he strolled back up to her line of vision and found her breathless, he nudged her nose with his own.

“Aimer, c'est avoir du plaisir à voir, toucher, sentir par tous les sens, et d'aussi près que possible un objet aimable qui nous aime."

Saya managed a crooked and yet endearing grin despite being amidst euphoria. Finally her Chevalier asked, “Do you need me, Saya?”

Almost in laughter, she exhaled, “ Oh, Haji, yes-”

A pleased and drawn out sob echoed throughout the kitchen once he fitted himself to her in one fluid movement. Saya quivered in his hold, branded with his name on every part of her body and soul, the most reward Haji could ever ask for. She tightened around him, her heels pushing and greedily requesting more. At the edge of his patience, Haji could no longer wait and was no longer hesitant in giving, but just as he was about to give another thrust, he found that his Queen’s heels had confined him.

When a thin line of blood trickled down her thorax, the man sucked in sharply, eyes wide - partially in newfound anger because she’d gone against his refusal and partially, in carnivorous lust.

One of Haji’s greatest and most private fears was to one-day transform into this monster ever since the trauma that happened in Vietnam. It was the one nightmare that he constantly dreamt with eyes open. And now confronting this fear, Saya continued to tempt him. To beg him. She whimpered as she tightened her walls around him, the heat in his blood becoming agony.

“Haji!”

When she screamed loud enough to make his ears ring, he gave in, diving to her breasts and shutting his eyes so hard, he saw color behind his lids. With one lick, he was sold and followed the trail clean to her neck where she had previously nicked herself on purpose. When he sunk his fangs into her, she screamed again, calling out for him over and over until her repetition became inaudible thrum. He drank in full gulps, the blood down his throat like dropping weights as he felt his esophagus burn all the way down to the pit of his stomach. Combined with her thighs squeezing him further into her depths, the Chevalier openly groaned as he pumped her in rhythm with his feeding.

The first time she’d given him blood, the day she’d revived him from eminent death, the experience was nothing, but anguish. The transformation, tantalizing minutes that didn’t feel short enough, minutes of every tendon, bone, and ligament ripping and churning, reconstructing him from the inside out. The severity of pain was short before fainting or throwing up, but the soundless scream kept him from trying. This time, it was different.

It was really hot. Burning. It felt like acid, but her odor, her sweat, her arousal, and her blood awakened something new in him. Like a moth to flame, it was as if he was snatched up and void of escape. If he believed that their lovemaking was close to heavenly bliss before, this was a brand new dimension of ecstasy.

Their eyes glowed, their nails peeled skin, and when the man felt Saya slacken, he yanked himself away. Their heavy panting near hyperventilation, he slowed their pace, cleaning after his mess and expressing his guilt in firm, but never careless pushes.

“I’m sorry,” he huffed, “I’m so sorry, Saya.”

“No,” she corrected, “It’s like you said earlier.” With a kiss, she offered him a sincere grin, “Loving with all the senses. And one is taste.”

His nails hung from her ribs, indecision blurring his actions as he fought with himself. The man kept his mouth in hers with dread. He was terrified, that the moment he were set loose, his lips would curl like a panther over prey - satisfied at its fill. Disgusted and enamored all at once, the Chevalier could not endure this new feeling without internal contradictions. The more he thought about it, the more his stance wilted and he hadn’t caught himself until he felt Saya’s hand pull at his skin as if he were a pair of slacks too large for wear. Snapping back into reality, Haji slid his Queen from the counter.

She squealed when her bare feet hit the cold floor and he shifted her a few feet away against a wall.

“Turn around,” he whispered, molding her back against his chest and his toes lining up outside of hers.

He penetrated her, his arm clasped over her shoulder in anticipation for the following events. When his fingers followed down her navel between her thighs, Saya almost dropped. It was all she could take anymore and while she fisted the wall with curses through her tears, Haji was persistent. He fondled and plunged into her rigorously as he clipped her earlobe with his teeth.

“Profitez-moi- Saya.”

She yelled and screamed in every language she could think of- even ones that Haji was unaware she was fluent in. If remembering her native tongue was as simple as overwhelming her in bed, perhaps this was a solution he’d seek in the future the next time she was in need of a refresher. He was confident that after this experience, she would not protest.

She gave with a silent wail, her legs straightening before the musician turned her again, lifting her with the wall as their support. She sat with her legs around his torso, Haji using the cabinets for aid as his pelvis kept her from slipping. With this proximity, he finished her perfectly. It wasn’t long until his climax followed.

“Vous avez aimé que, ma Reine?”

She smirked, catching his lips with an appreciative kiss as he leveled her back on her feet.

“Yes. Very much.”

x-x-x-x

After the numerous rounds all over their apartment, the couple barely made it to Saya’s lunch date with her nieces the next afternoon. If it weren’t for Haji’s constant nudging, the Queen would have slept all the way until that night. The Chevalier was secretly proud of the wobble in her step and happily obliged in the scarf hunt beneath her heaps of dirty laundry. It was pleasantly difficult to jump over rooftops with the woman catching his neck with an unexpected peck or lick, and it wasn’t until they only had about five minutes to get there, that they opted on walking before they were tempted to get- distracted.

As usual, her nieces dragged her in as soon as she landed on the windowsill.

“Go away, uncle Haji, it’s girl’s time again,” they chided, and the knight was not at all bothered.

Lifting his Cello over his shoulder, he had a particular spot in the park planned when he caught a few words of gossip like he’d done just a day before. After the burst of gasps and giggles, the Chevalier retreated with a smile.

Man. Animal. Whatever the case. This time, he liked what he heard…

-x-x-x-x-x-

-x- French Translations -x-

S'il vous plait: Please

J'ai besoin de toi: I need you

Permettez-moi de vous toucher: Let me touch you

Regardez-moi: Look at me

Permettez-moi De vous entendre: Let me hear you

Permettez-moi De vous faire goûter: Let me taste you

Profitez-moi: Enjoy me

Appelle-moi: Call for me

J'adore quand tu cries à moi: I love it when you scream for me

Dis-moi que vous l'aimez: Tell me you like it

Je t'aime: I love you

Je t'aime si beaucoup: I love you so much

Plus Forte: Harder

J'ai besoin de toi: I need you

Jamais: Never

Êtes-vous fâché: Are you angry?

Prends-moi s'il vous plait: Take me, please

Je veux être le vôtre: I want to be yours

Vous avez aimé que ma Reine: Did you like that, my Queen?