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said_scarlett) wrote2009-04-25 10:33 am
said_scarlett) wrote2009-04-25 10:33 am
Fic: In Dark Places; Citan/Yui; R
Holy crap, I wrote fic! It's just a little Citan/Yui PWP, but it's at least getting my toes back into the fic pool!
Title: In Dark Places
Fandom: Xenogears
Pairing: Citan/Yui
Rating: R
Spoilers: Citan and Yui origin spoilers
Warnings: N/A
Wordcount: 1127
Summary: Only Yui is ever able to coax Citan's mind away from his duty and his orders, even if only for a short while.
Mountains bred thunderstorms, and the mountains that cradled the small village of Lahan were no exception. Lightening split the sky and thunder rolled across the canopy of clouds, and the good doctor Citan Suzuki - who was still growing accustomed to answering to that name - sat on the edge of his bed and sighed.
“Not even the most basic weather controls…” he muttered, shaking his head. He was answered with a low chuckle, and Citan’s eyes moved from the rather weathered looking country rug he’d been staring at. Yui stood with her back to him, running a brush through her long hair by candlelight.
“Yes?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. She turned, her eyes dancing, though from candlelight or mischief, he couldn’t tell. Yui’s moods were hard to gauge.
“You’re spoiled,” she said, setting aside the brush. There was a teasing note to her voice.
“Hardly spoiled,” Citan retorted, glancing out the window. “The house is shaking, Yui, if you hadn’t yet noticed. The herb garden will be pressed flat by the downpour and I can only imagine what a state those horrid chickens you bought will be in.”
“All of that will be dealt with tomorrow.” Yui sat down as well, the bed shifting and creaking some with her slight weight. “The house won’t fall and plants and animals have lived through storms before.” She reached out to loosen the ribbon that held Citan’s hair, and ran her fingers through it. Mischief, then, in her eyes. Yui’s blood was up, and Citan decided that it would be far more fruitful to abandon complaining about their miserable surroundings.
But he was a stubborn man.
“And imagine the injuries the local fools will need fixing up after this. The more time I need to devote to playing the role of simple country doctor, the less time I have to keep my eye on what needs minding.”
“Forget your mission for an evening,” Yui said, a touch sharply. Citan was taken aback a moment, and Yui’s mouth was on his before he could form any sort of protest.
Yui’s hands threaded through his hair, her body angled towards him. Citan reached for her, pulling her close, feeling the heat of her skin through the light cotton shift she wore. She was settling into this god forsaken place easily - she and the child. But that didn’t matter now. As Yui’s hands made their way to the buttons of his tunic, unfastening them and slipping inside, Citan turned his mind away from the storm and the backwater mountain village they now called home.
As Yui pushed him down - not altogether gently, either - Citan’s lips curved into a small grin. Lightening flashed and illuminated the woman above him, her cotton garment clinging to her slender muscles. Citan let his eyes move from the graceful hollow of her throat to the smooth round of her shoulder, down, over her small high breasts and her narrow waist. She was always beautiful, his half-tamed woman of Shevat.
She stretched over him, lips finding his, hands gripping his wrists and holding him down against the bed. He could fight her, he knew. Push back, tangled himself with her and try for the upper hand, but he had little desire for that sort of lovemaking tonight. And Yui’s lips and hands felt good, and she moved with the swell of the thunder, and already her skin was damp with sweat from the summer night heat.
They didn’t speak. Nights of loud lovemaking were over - there was a three year old child in the next room, after all. Yui’s nimble hands divested Citan of tunic and trousers with quick, fierce efficiency. She crouched over him, shift hiked up above her thighs, looking down. The candlelight and the rain against the window made strange shadows, rippled marks of dimness that cut across Citan’s chest and Yui’s thighs and stomach. Citan reached up finally, tugging at the hem of Yui’s shift, pulling until he rose up to lift it off.
She was naked beneath, skin dappled white and gray and dark ruddy. His hands brushed her bare shoulders, her breasts. Her hair spilled around her, an eerie sheen turning her into some sort of creature that was more element than woman. And Citan loved her. She shoved him back onto the bed, hair falling around her face and shoulders heaving, Citan felt his need and want for her come over him like a wave. Never, never in his life had he ever regretted what he’d done to have this woman.
Even this hellish place didn't matter now. In the darkness, Yui's slim and stretched body was all that mattered. Her skin, her hair, her teeth, her hips....
Citan reached for the back of her head, pulling her down on top of him. His legs tangled with hers and now they were struggling against each other, moaning quietly into one another’s mouth. Yui’s hands snarled in Citan’s hair, his hands grasped a her back to crush her against him. The bed sheets twisted and bunched, and the storm raged on outside.
They made love side to side, neither willing to fully submit to the other. The wall of the old water tower they called home pressed against Citan’s back, Yui’s hands on his shoulders, her slick heat surrounding him. His back ached, pressed against the hard surface of wood and metal. Yui’s shoulder his the wall again and again with a dull thud, mostly masked by the driving wind and rain.
They were done long before the storm died away, lying twined and naked in one another’s arms as the thunder began its symphony once more. Citan pressed his face to Yui’s hair, breathing in her scent. He ached, but the bed was warm and Yui’s body was soft and pliant in his arms. He kissed her shoulder, holding her loosely, her back to his chest. There was a bruise beginning to blossom there, from striking the wall again and again as she moved with him.
“The sheets have all fallen to the floor,” she murmured, turning her head. Citan caught her lips in a light kiss, hands finding hers to twine their fingers together.
“Leave them,” he said, not wanting to move or let go of his wife. It was a hot night, even with the rain, and made hotter still by the sweat and exertion of their sex. There was an old quilt, some patchwork job from the little village, and Yui stretched just far enough to grab it and pull it up. They wrapped themselves in it, sitting together on the bed, all things momentarily forgotten in the afterglow.
Citan reached for his pack of tobacco and a paper while Yui watched the storm out the window. If the storm continued this badly, there would be work tomorrow. He settled back against the head board, freshly rolled cigarette between his lips, his mind already retreating from thoughts of dragging Yui back to bed for another round in favor of composing his next report to the Emperor.
Citan had his priorities, after all.
Title: In Dark Places
Fandom: Xenogears
Pairing: Citan/Yui
Rating: R
Spoilers: Citan and Yui origin spoilers
Warnings: N/A
Wordcount: 1127
Summary: Only Yui is ever able to coax Citan's mind away from his duty and his orders, even if only for a short while.
Mountains bred thunderstorms, and the mountains that cradled the small village of Lahan were no exception. Lightening split the sky and thunder rolled across the canopy of clouds, and the good doctor Citan Suzuki - who was still growing accustomed to answering to that name - sat on the edge of his bed and sighed.
“Not even the most basic weather controls…” he muttered, shaking his head. He was answered with a low chuckle, and Citan’s eyes moved from the rather weathered looking country rug he’d been staring at. Yui stood with her back to him, running a brush through her long hair by candlelight.
“Yes?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. She turned, her eyes dancing, though from candlelight or mischief, he couldn’t tell. Yui’s moods were hard to gauge.
“You’re spoiled,” she said, setting aside the brush. There was a teasing note to her voice.
“Hardly spoiled,” Citan retorted, glancing out the window. “The house is shaking, Yui, if you hadn’t yet noticed. The herb garden will be pressed flat by the downpour and I can only imagine what a state those horrid chickens you bought will be in.”
“All of that will be dealt with tomorrow.” Yui sat down as well, the bed shifting and creaking some with her slight weight. “The house won’t fall and plants and animals have lived through storms before.” She reached out to loosen the ribbon that held Citan’s hair, and ran her fingers through it. Mischief, then, in her eyes. Yui’s blood was up, and Citan decided that it would be far more fruitful to abandon complaining about their miserable surroundings.
But he was a stubborn man.
“And imagine the injuries the local fools will need fixing up after this. The more time I need to devote to playing the role of simple country doctor, the less time I have to keep my eye on what needs minding.”
“Forget your mission for an evening,” Yui said, a touch sharply. Citan was taken aback a moment, and Yui’s mouth was on his before he could form any sort of protest.
Yui’s hands threaded through his hair, her body angled towards him. Citan reached for her, pulling her close, feeling the heat of her skin through the light cotton shift she wore. She was settling into this god forsaken place easily - she and the child. But that didn’t matter now. As Yui’s hands made their way to the buttons of his tunic, unfastening them and slipping inside, Citan turned his mind away from the storm and the backwater mountain village they now called home.
As Yui pushed him down - not altogether gently, either - Citan’s lips curved into a small grin. Lightening flashed and illuminated the woman above him, her cotton garment clinging to her slender muscles. Citan let his eyes move from the graceful hollow of her throat to the smooth round of her shoulder, down, over her small high breasts and her narrow waist. She was always beautiful, his half-tamed woman of Shevat.
She stretched over him, lips finding his, hands gripping his wrists and holding him down against the bed. He could fight her, he knew. Push back, tangled himself with her and try for the upper hand, but he had little desire for that sort of lovemaking tonight. And Yui’s lips and hands felt good, and she moved with the swell of the thunder, and already her skin was damp with sweat from the summer night heat.
They didn’t speak. Nights of loud lovemaking were over - there was a three year old child in the next room, after all. Yui’s nimble hands divested Citan of tunic and trousers with quick, fierce efficiency. She crouched over him, shift hiked up above her thighs, looking down. The candlelight and the rain against the window made strange shadows, rippled marks of dimness that cut across Citan’s chest and Yui’s thighs and stomach. Citan reached up finally, tugging at the hem of Yui’s shift, pulling until he rose up to lift it off.
She was naked beneath, skin dappled white and gray and dark ruddy. His hands brushed her bare shoulders, her breasts. Her hair spilled around her, an eerie sheen turning her into some sort of creature that was more element than woman. And Citan loved her. She shoved him back onto the bed, hair falling around her face and shoulders heaving, Citan felt his need and want for her come over him like a wave. Never, never in his life had he ever regretted what he’d done to have this woman.
Even this hellish place didn't matter now. In the darkness, Yui's slim and stretched body was all that mattered. Her skin, her hair, her teeth, her hips....
Citan reached for the back of her head, pulling her down on top of him. His legs tangled with hers and now they were struggling against each other, moaning quietly into one another’s mouth. Yui’s hands snarled in Citan’s hair, his hands grasped a her back to crush her against him. The bed sheets twisted and bunched, and the storm raged on outside.
They made love side to side, neither willing to fully submit to the other. The wall of the old water tower they called home pressed against Citan’s back, Yui’s hands on his shoulders, her slick heat surrounding him. His back ached, pressed against the hard surface of wood and metal. Yui’s shoulder his the wall again and again with a dull thud, mostly masked by the driving wind and rain.
They were done long before the storm died away, lying twined and naked in one another’s arms as the thunder began its symphony once more. Citan pressed his face to Yui’s hair, breathing in her scent. He ached, but the bed was warm and Yui’s body was soft and pliant in his arms. He kissed her shoulder, holding her loosely, her back to his chest. There was a bruise beginning to blossom there, from striking the wall again and again as she moved with him.
“The sheets have all fallen to the floor,” she murmured, turning her head. Citan caught her lips in a light kiss, hands finding hers to twine their fingers together.
“Leave them,” he said, not wanting to move or let go of his wife. It was a hot night, even with the rain, and made hotter still by the sweat and exertion of their sex. There was an old quilt, some patchwork job from the little village, and Yui stretched just far enough to grab it and pull it up. They wrapped themselves in it, sitting together on the bed, all things momentarily forgotten in the afterglow.
Citan reached for his pack of tobacco and a paper while Yui watched the storm out the window. If the storm continued this badly, there would be work tomorrow. He settled back against the head board, freshly rolled cigarette between his lips, his mind already retreating from thoughts of dragging Yui back to bed for another round in favor of composing his next report to the Emperor.
Citan had his priorities, after all.