"Hey, Jude, don't make it bad..."
There are very few things in this world that I hate more than
silence. For no more reason than when it is quiet, you can hear.
Everything. People walking, people moving, people crying...people
dying. Way, way more than I like to hear, which is probably why I
chatter on like a monkey most of the time. Sure, I annoy people, but
since I could give a rat's ass about that, life is pretty good.
Which was why I decided that God was having another one of his oh,
so funny jokes at my expense by hooking me up with the Sovereign of
Silence, the guy whose life I had saved and yet he couldn't be
bothered to tell me his name.
After a few attempts to get Mr. Sets-his-own-bones-which-is-really-
disgusting talking, I gave up. Even I have some standards and I
wasn't about to talk to a brick wall all afternoon.
Which is why I was sitting on the floor, going over some schematics
and singing. Even my rather dubious skill with song was better than
total silence, at least in my opinion.
"...take a sad song and make it better..."
Sadly, No Name up there didn't agree with me.
That guy poked his head out of a repair hatch in his Gundam, face
streaked with grease, and said in that most annoying voice of his,
"How am I supposed to do anything if you won't keep quiet?"
Well, isn't someone cranky? You'd think this was his personal cruise
ship or something. I flopped back against deck and gave him a look
of mock horror. "Oh, c'mon, man! The Beatles are, like, classic!"
No reply. He delved back into the womb of his beast and I sighed
wearily. "Uncultured heathen," I muttered, climbing to my feet and
tossing my papers aside. This guy could work through lunch if he
wanted to, but I'd missed more than enough meals in my life, thanks
much, and I don't skip out on food if I possibly can.
My hair caught on something, jerking my flight to a halt and I
cursed silently, swearing that I was going to cut off the useless
lump of hair as I reached back automatically to untangle it. Only to
find my wrist similarly caught and I realized a moment too late that
it wasn't something but someone, and that someone was yanking me
backwards and upward, throwing me into the cockpit of an unknown but
still oddly familiar Gundam.
We must have looked ridiculous, my legs dangling out and him leaning
over me. My wrist still twisted in his grasp, in just such a way
that if I struggled he'd probably break it, which would keep me out
of the pilot's seat for a few weeks at the very least. Adrenaline
was thrumming hotly through my veins and every street instinct I had
in me was screaming to fight, to get away. I ignored it, holding
very still as I waited to see if he was going to take me out of this
war with one sharp jerk of his hand.
His face was bare centimeters from mine as he hissed, "What do you
really want from me?"
Should have expected that, I suppose. This kind of guy isn't used to
people doing things for him and wanting nothing in return. Still, it
wasn't like I could tell him the truth. I'm not the shiniest apple
on the tree but I have a few brain cells rolling around upstairs,
and there was no way in hell I was going to tell him the real reason
that Isaved his ass is because he has nice eyes. Blue, blue, blue,
and I am just a sucker for a pretty face, as I've proven many times
in the past.
So I was thinking with my dick. So sue me.
Being that I couldn't tell him the truth, I said nothing, and he
ratched up the pressure on my wrist a few degrees, until I winced
before I could stop myself.
"Answer me! What do you want from me?"
*Oh, no, you'll have to do much better than that if you want me to
break...* "Nothing at all," I said, softly, and I leaned up far
enough to lick his nose.
His eyes went comically wide and he let go of me so quickly that I
fell the rest of the way into the cockpit, rapping my head sharply
on the bulkhead. Stars swam briefly in front of my eyes, and I
rubbed the back of my head gingerly. "Geez, way to repay a guy for
saving your life."
He didn't even look at me. "I didn't ask you to."
Well, how can you argue with that? "Nope. You didn't. My bad." I
crawled out of the cockpit past him, warily, but he let me go
without a word. Swinging down and keeping a sharp eye on my braid
this time, I was silent until I got out of grabbing range. "Hey,
Jude..."
I didn't wait to see what he'd do this time. Lunch was waiting.
*
It was much later in the night when I saw him again, although I'm
willing to bet he saw me first.
I was in the middle of a dream about walking on the moon in my bare
feet, and I could hear something crunching beneath my toes, brittle
as glass but when I looked down I was walking across bones where
there should have been dust, the entire surface of the moon littered
with fragile bones of the dead as if it were a graveyard, a garden
of bones...
I woke up with a jerk, my cheeks stiff with drying tears and I
swiped the rest of them away with the back of my hand, disgusted
with the feel. Cripes, I'd had a weird day and now I was having
weird dreams on top of it. That's the Maxwell luck, all right. Not
one moment of true peace.
Snorting aloud at the melancholy turn of my thoughts, I rolled over
with every intention of going back to sleep only to find myself nose
to nose with him.
It was a miracle I didn't wake up the rest of the ship because I
certainly squawked loud enough to raise the dead. Fumbling
backwards, I nearly fell off the bed, would have in fact if a strong
hand hadn't caught my shoulder and jerked me back, into a pair of
equally strong arms.
I fought automatically, with every ounce of strength in my scrawny
little body and he held on through all of it, until I was calm
enough and awake enough to realize that he wasn't hurting me. In
fact, it was a hell of a lot more likely that I'd managed to give
him a good punch or two, and I could feel myself blushing as I
finally relaxed in his embrace.
He let me go, warily, as if expecting another good smack or two, and
I flopped backwards unto the bed, exhaling loudly before I said,
"Jesus, scare a guy why don't you?"
"I'm sorry," he replied, and I rolled my eyes. "I just wanted to ask
you a question."
I blinked. Weird did not even begin to describe this guy. "Well, I'm
all ears, have at it."
"Why did you do that?"
"What? Save you?" I asked, confused. "I already told you, I was
curious..."
"No," he interrupted, "not that."
When he didn't say anything else, I had to resist the urge to smack
him once more for good measure. Three o'clock on the morning and
Superman wants to play guessing games. "What then?"
"When you were sitting in the cockpit," he said, almost a mumble,
and awareness dawned. Hell, he was -embarrassed-, and I had to fight
back a grin that would have probably gotten my nose broken had he
seen it.
"Why did I lick your nose?" I guessed, and he nodded slightly.
Frowning a little, searching for words, I finally just shrugged and
said, "It was there."
Apparently, that wasn't the answer that soldier boy was looking for
because he frowned, brow creasing. I shrugged again, a little
helplessly, what did he want me to say? That I thought his nose was
as cute as the rest of him and, as usual, I hadn't been able to
resist the little devil in me who had suggested it?
"Look," I started, a bit annoyed. I'd helped this guy left and right
and now he was going to be pissed off by a little lick? "If I
offended you somehow, then I..."
The rest of my words got lost somewhere in his tonsils as he covered
my mouth with his and gave me just about the sloppiest, wettest and
fucking hottest kiss I'd ever had in my admittedly short life.
I've never been very good at resisting the more carnal aspects in
life, and whatever argument we'd been about to have was promptly
forgotten. Until his hands started to worm themselves beneath my
tank top and then I crashed back to reality right quick. Hell, this
guy wouldn't even tell me his name!
"Hey! You can't...I mean...you..." Words, usually my most
trustworthy and reliable friends, had cruelly deserted me to deal
with the situation on my own.
Just ducky.
He was just looking at me expectantly, and I couldn't help but
wonder if I had 'slut' tattooed somewhere on my forehead where I
couldn't see it. It would sure explain a lot in my life. "Look," I
started, patiently, "We can't just...do..." I faltered a bit. What
was it about this guy that made me feel dirty to say the word fuck?
"We can't do that," I said finally, shrugging mentally. "I mean, I
don't know anything about you. I don't even know if you're clean or
what."
He gave me the most perplexed look, which was pretty amusing coming
from him. "Of course I'm clean. You watched me shower earlier."
I almost swallowed my own tongue trying not to laugh. "That's not
quite what I meant," I said, grinning in spite of myself. Ah, hell,
he was right. I had watched him shower earlier, although he
wasn't actually supposed to know that...anyhow, I already lived
dangerously. Might as well add this onto the list.
He was watching me with this bewildered look in his eyes and it was
probably the most expression I'd seen on this guy's face since I'd
met him.
Leaning up, I slid one hand behind his neck and kissed him, hard. I
might have confused him a bit a moment ago but this he seemed to
understand and he responded eagerly, already trying to push me back
into the mattress.
Oh, I don't think so, Mr. Roboto.
A quick twist and shift, and I had him pinned beneath me. Not too
hard, this guy had me beat when it came to strength but I was
willing to bet he wasn't going to hurt me.
He didn't. He struggled for just a second, mostly out of surprise,
but I kissed him again and he stilled, opening his mouth warily when
I probed his lips with my tongue.
Again, he tried to push me so that I was beneath him and I pulled
away, shaking my head before I whispered into his ear. "Nuh uh. My
bed. My way or the highway." I punctuated my words by licking his
ear, and he shivered delicately beneath me. Ooh, he was
sensitive...this was going to be good. He seemed to consider what
I'd said for a minute, and I thought for sure he was going to just
figure 'Screw this' and leave. I very nearly called the words back,
figuring that doing whatever he wanted was better than blue
balls...but he didn't leave. He nodded, once, and that was that.
What can I say? I fucked him silly. Bent him over on his knees and
just had at it. It was his first time, I knew that without saying,
and I know I must have hurt him some but he never once complained.
You didn't get to be like this guy without being able to take a
little pain. He might even have a bit of a taste for that, you know?
He reminded me of those guys on L-2 who used to come downtown to
Mona's in their neat, tidy little business suits...
Oh, you've heard of Mona's?
Hey, don't look at me like that. A guy has to eat, and on L-2 there
were some really odd ways to make a buck. Better to slap someone
else around than to wait for them to slap you.
Anyhow, those were the guys who let you tie them to the wall and
then just use a belt on them until their ass was as red as their
faces. And they'd never make a sound, bite their lips bloody to keep
silent, not because they were afraid of crying out in pain, though
they wouldn't do that either, but to stop themselves from begging
for more.
He did everything I told him to, no question, which was, well, hell,
it was weird, for me. Maybe it was a bit of a relief for him, to
have someone's orders to follow, even in this situation. And as hot
as it was to have someone obey your every whim in bed, it pissed me
off a bit too, that he would think he had to.
Didn't piss me off enough not to enjoy it though.
Afterward, when we were lying there with the sweat drying on our
cooling skin and he was playing with my hair, which he'd taken out
of the braid without my permission but I was too relaxed to
give a damn, he asked me, in that quiet voice of his, "Was this why
you saved me at the hospital?"
I mumbled something, more asleep than awake and not particularly in
the mood for conversation. But this guy was as annoying as a hole in
the toe of your sock and he could certainly pick a poor time to get
chatty.
"Was it?" he persisted, shaking me a little.
Well, fuck me sideways...wait, just did that... "Do you only get
verbal when the sun is down, or is it just the sex?" I groused,
pulling my pillow over my head. A long moment of silence and I gave
in, peeking out from under my fluffy barrier to meet his confused
gaze.
I rolled my eyes. Who was this guy? "No," I said, stifling a
yawn, "I did not save you from the hospital to get you to sleep with
me." That the thought had crossed my mind once or twice didn't count
and I tactfully decided not to add that bit. "I saved you because it
was the right thing to do," I said, shrugging a little. That was
true enough.
He looked like he wanted to say something else and I stuffed my
pillow in his face before he could. What a time for him to take on
my personality traits. "Go. To. Sleep!"
*
I sure as hell regretted not conversing with him a bit more the next
day. Maybe if I hadn't been so abrupt after the fact he wouldn't
have ransacked my Gundam for parts.
Then again, this is the super hero we're talking about here, so
chances are if I'd been cuddlier he probably would have just left me
a note to go with my poor looted Deathscythe.
"Traitor!" I screamed to the dying whine of his engine, with the
thought of little love notes left on the control panel of my Gundam
waltzing in the back of my head, and I was laughing before the sound
of my scream could even fade away.
The heat of my anger burning itself out as quickly as it had flared
up because wasn't it funny? I screwed him and he screwed me. Fair's
fair, isn't it? And as I remembered the sight of him on his knees
with his pretty little ass in the air, begging silently for me to
give it to him, I have to think I got the better end of the deal.
Then again, considering the parts he'd stolen, that was probably the
most expensive fuck I'll ever get. Doesn't matter. I'll see him
again, anyway. Make no mistake of that.
We've got a score to settle.
Still grinning, I turned back and wandered back into the hanger to
see about repairing my mobile suit, already half-singing.
"Hey, Jude..."
-finis-
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