Blood+ Fan Fiction ❯ Waking Dreams ❯ Waking Dreams ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Blood+, any of the characters, nor any of the copyrights of the manga, anime, game, etc etc. This was written as a non profit piece of literature meant solely for the enjoyment of the authoress and her readers.

 

[A/N] This is a one shot venture out of my usual fandom [IY] to explore the goodness that is Saya/Haji from Blood+. Don't expect anything more featuring this couple from me, although the possibility is not nonexistent. Having a capricious Muse makes it impossible to predict what I write. ^^;

 

Warning: Blood play (duh! Vampires…;))

 

=#= Waking Dreams =#=

 

She had no name, but she knew the scent that surrounded her…

 

A sharp and painful nostalgia gripped her, forced her to draw breath as she gasped with the bittersweet agony of it. Warm, soft skin pressed against her cheek and dark tendrils of silky, wavy hair tickled her face as strong arms lifted her up. With a familiarity that was completely natural, her forehead came to rest in the crook of his neck. Blind with need, her lips moved over the strong and steady pulse there as her tongue flicked out to taste him.

 

Yes.

 

Her teeth sank deep, her bite clean and sharp and sudden as she greedily sucked down the blood that welled to the surface. His body jerked, once, then grew languid as his arms tightened protectively around her slender, naked form. Softly, slowly, her body was replenished within the gentle darkness; the quiet cadence of his breath and hers, of her heartbeat and his, of the wet sounds of her mouth on his neck her first lullaby. Instinct stilled her mouth, made her swallow her last gulp as she remembered to avoid taking more than he had to give.

 

Memories followed consciousness as her past settled into her thoughts like water into an empty cup. Blood soaked, shrouded in despair and misery, the bright strands of her happiest moments kept her firmly anchored to sanity, even as he held her body through the involuntary twitches that came with revived blood flow. The last of her reawakening ended and for a moment she lay quietly against his body, content to be aware of only him.

 

Haji.

 

She felt a smile forming on her face. Anxiety and relief spiraled through her with surprising intensity, until her hands sought to find his and her eyes flew wide with sudden recollection. She gripped the hand he offered her with all of the strength of her turbulent emotions as she reached up with her other hand to brush the dark strands of hair out of his face.

 

“I thought…I had lost you…” she admitted shakily, “I dreamed…of your face, over and over and over again, right before the debris fell on you. I smiled and laughed for everyone so they wouldn't worry—I tried to stay awake—but you never came.”

 

“Saya,” was all he said, calm and steady and completely devoted; as unshakable, unmovable, unfailing as a force of nature.

 

Her arms encircled his neck as she clung to him, burying her face against his chest as she hid her tears.

 

“I love you, Haji,” she whispered, the tips of her fingers digging into the muscles of his back as she squeezed him tight. “I thought…and I regretted…”

 

“I will always be with you,” he reassured her, the deep and simple, proven truth of his words resonating down through the ages, through her memories.

 

“Take me outside,” she instructed, never relinquishing her hold on him even as he lifted her up and carried out into the sunshine. He put her on her feet with meticulous care as she raised her face happily to the warm summer sun.

 

“It's summer,” she stated after a long moment of basking and inhaling the scents in the air.

 

“Late summer,” he corrected her gently as he steadied her with firm hands.

 

“Time for school to start again,” she said without thinking as she stretched her arms high above her head. She didn't miss the way his gaze strayed to the upward thrust of her breasts before sliding discreetly away. She chose not to comment on it as she turned her back to him and walked to the top of the stairs, looking out over the tops of the trees at the wide expanse of the ocean.

 

“Do you think Kai will look more like Dad now? Seeing as he's over forty now and might have a family of his own…I wonder how much trouble the twins gave him growing up. They would be what, high school?” she paused for a moment with a thoughtful frown, “No…College at least by now. So will Julia and David's son—”

 

She stole a glance back at him, silent and attentive, his face impassive but his eyes understanding as he saw through her guise. Her words dwindled to nothing, and as her false cheer faded, he was there to hold her as she took a step back to lean against him.

 

“Haji…” she sighed forlornly as the long, long strands of her dark hair fell to cover her face. “I don't know how to face them. I've been asleep as they moved on with their lives. I know they will welcome me back with open arms, but…it won't be the same as I remember.”

 

“Saya,” he said again, all the unselfishness of his acceptance in that one word.

 

She was quiet and thoughtful for a long moment, the sounds of the birds in the trees the only accompaniment to their wordless communion. Her eyes remained on the distant horizon even as she stirred and gathered her thoughts.

 

“I looked for you,” she confessed, “Even in my dreams. Over and over I dreamed of Diva, that somehow she was alive and awake when I was not. I saw her kill Kai, Julia, David, everyone—and I was helpless to stop it. I lost everything…”

 

She paused, drew breath, and continued. “But then, I saw your face, and I was comforted. I thought…even if…there was no one else, there would be you; that even if there was no one else but you, I would like…to live on…with you.”

 

“Haji,” she murmured as she turned in his arms and buried her face in his white shirt. “Do you desire me?”

 

His arms clenched tight around her even as he made a puzzled, delaying sound of confusion.

 

“Haji, I know you love me, that you have served me faithfully all this time despite my selfishness, but what I don't know…what I'm not sure of is…if you feel the way I do,” she continued, undeterred by his discomfort. “I don't wish for your compliance or your agreement. What I wish for is your honesty. Do you desire my body?”

 

“I…My lady it is not that simp—” he started with his usual disassembling candor.

 

“Yes or no, Haji. Don't tell me what you think I want to hear,” she cut in impatiently, pressing herself closer to him.

 

“I am your Chevalier,” he said quietly in response. “I exist to please you.”

 

“I see,” she responded with displeasure as she pulled away. “Then as I wish it, so shall it be? Regardless of your feelings on the matter?”

 

She stepped aside and paced back towards the darkness of the opening of the grave building. She paused a moment longer, gathering the long tangled strands of her hair into a bundle with impatient hands. She spared him one sharp, swift glance over her shoulder before descending back through the door.

 

“That's no better than rape, Haji,” she replied with iron in her voice as she disappeared into the interior, “Even if you're willing.”

 

“Saya!” he called with a slight edge of distress to his usually even tones. His movement was faster than she could react to as the long fingers of his Chiropteran hand closed around her wrist. She glanced down, and his gaze followed hers as she stared, captivated by the contrast of his dark, rough skin against her smooth, pale arm.

 

“Saya,” he said again, softly, as he tightened his hold.

 

“I made you a Chiropteran. I took away your humanity; stopped your time because I couldn't let you go,” she talked to his hand where it gripped her, never once lifting her eyes even though she could feel the weight of his desire for her to look up. “I've used you without compassion, without consideration of what you might want. I've treated you no better than a puppet, and I let myself do it because I believed it was necessary. But now…Haji…”

 

She relented enough let him pull her against his chest and into his arms. Her breath came out with a hitch as she trembled on the edge of tears. His hands were gentle as he lifted her face to receive his kiss. Soft and gentle his lips pressed against first one eyelid, then the other.

 

“Don't cry, Saya,” he pleaded with quiet intensity, “Don't cry for me.”

 

The dove grey-blue of his eyes sharpened to an agonized silver that was like a dagger through her heart. With a hiccupped, swallowed sob, she offered him a watery smile, comforted by his kisses against her forehead and temple.

 

“Haji…” his name came out strangled with feeling, all of her thoughts and dreams tangled up in that one word. Her hands curled into his shirt as she breathed deeply of his reassuring scent. “Do you desire me?”

 

“I…Yes,” he admitted at last as his breath tickled her cheek. “Yes.”

 

“Kiss me,” she ordered unapologetically, turning her face upward to his.

 

The touch of his lips was tentative, light, shy against hers. Her response was instant and demanding, her fingers fisting in his lapel as she surged up on tiptoe. His mouth yielded to the invasion of hers with surprised leniency, letting her slip her tongue between his parted lips as the taste of his blood flavored their kiss. An inhuman, hungry sound came deep from his throat as he threaded his long, strong Chiropteran fingers under the thick mass of her hair, lifting and trapping her against him with his grip on her buttocks.

 

He made another choked, urgent sound, tearing his mouth from hers even as he boosted her up and arched his long, elegant neck in silent pleading. Needing no further instruction, she looped her arms around his broad shoulders and gave the clean line of his throat one long, slow lick upward. A smile, as affectionate as it was ravenous, was lost against his skin when he trembled beneath her with need.

 

The tip of her tongue teased the place where she'd bitten him before, the dried crust of blood flaking away as her lips skimmed over the spot with deliberate torment. The sharp steel of his claws dug into the tight roundness of her right buttock as she delayed further, delighting in his responsiveness. It wasn't until he moved restlessly against her and she felt the promising swell of his hardness against the taunt plane of her belly that she bit him.

 

His low moan of satisfaction was surprisingly loud as she felt the vibrations of it from her teeth all the way through her skull. His left hand, his human one, roamed over her back with frantic agitation, trying to touch all of her all at once. When she set her teeth into his flesh and gratified him with a long sucking pull, that hand immediately went still as if she had cut the cord controlling it. His hips jerked against her in helpless response as she manipulated his body with her mouth; sending him spiraling into the euphoria that overcomes a Chevalier feeding his queen.

 

Again and again she took from him, daring to snake her hand down until she could cup the hardness of him in her palm. It wasn't until it began to soften and his knees gave out that she realized she'd taken more than he had to give. With easy, inhuman strength, she caught him against her and eased him down until he was sitting leaning against her. Cradling his head in the crook of her arm, she pulled away the silken fall of dark hair that covered her breast. Despite his lax passivity, his eyes followed the movement of her hand with active, focused interest. A small, choked sound of half protest, half eagerness escaped from him as she used one of his daggers to slice a short, deep gash above her erect nipple. He licked his lips with nervous anticipation, fascinated by the spill of crimson liquid trickling down her breast.

 

“Feed,” she urged him with possessive attentiveness, caressing his pale cheek with one bloodstained hand, “Take from me.”

 

She hid her fleeting tinge of worry from him, guiding his lips to her breast with all the care of a mother holding her infant. As the hot wetness of his mouth covered her nipple and the sharp rasp of his teeth sank into her skin, she gasped with pleasure, instinctively tightening her grip to hold him captive against her. She could not suppress the crooning moan that trickled from her throat as he suckled her with sharp, sudden pulls; the sweet, keen pain and pleasure stroking her arousal into dark, dangerous, edgy need.

 

It was so instinctively natural to push him down, to rise up over him with assured domination; that she barely remembered to catch his head at the last moment so it didn't slam against the hard floor. He gave no signs of resisting, made no struggle to stop her as she straddled his muscular thighs and ripped open the fastening of his pants. His breath came out jagged and erratic as her cool fingers closed around the length of him, his hands balling into fists as he lay still and tense beneath her. It wasn't until she had risen up above him, had positioned the head of his erection at her damp, glistening entrance that she realized they had moved beyond being lovers and become a Chevalier submitting to his queen.

 

She froze; his erection still in hand, fighting against her instincts as she took a good long look at the panicky glint in his pale, grey blue eyes. At the white knuckled clench of his hands, and the rigid posture of his body. She tried to relax, letting go as she rocked back on her heels and regarded him with a critical eye. A tickle of suspicion cooled her ardor as that suspicion blossomed into a full blown conviction.

 

Virgin.

 

Of course he would be. She'd known him since he was seven. Since he became her Chevalier, and any other female—Chiropteran or human—lost their appeal to him. Even Diva, his supposed bride, had barely been able to sway him. Evoke a reaction, yes, but appeal to him as a mate? No.

 

She stood, sweeping her hair away, and offered him a hand up. Tentatively, with a vulnerable look of uncertainty in his eyes, he accepted it and let her help him up.

 

“I'm sorry,” she said quietly, guilt coloring her voice as she turned her back on him and stalked towards the remnants of her cocoon. She didn't notice him following her somewhat forlornly as she threw herself down into the silken softness of the cocoon's interior. He watched her brood for several moments before daring to speak.

 

“You are angry with me,” he said sorrowfully, “I do not understand why.”

 

“I'm angry with myself,” she retorted, crossing her arms over her breasts with pique.

 

“Why?” he asked, his demeanor gentle and sad and lonely all at once.

 

“Because—” she started, stuttering to a stop as a blush suddenly flamed to life on her cheeks. “Because…” she tried again, her eyes dropping to avoid meeting his; lingering on the hard, thick length of his erection peeking through the flaps of the ruined front of his pants. She felt a sharp, aching throb of emptiness within her as she thought about how close she'd come to having him inside of her; and abruptly changed her mind.

 

“Just because,” she concluded without ire in her voice.

 

Her eyes were soft with invitation and her smile sweet with affection as she held out her hand to him. When he took it trustingly, her smile widened, becoming almost a grin of anticipation. It took some adjusting to tuck him inside the cocoon along side her, but she managed somehow. She made no comment about the shakiness of his hands as she took them and placed them on her breasts. She made no sound of protest as the press of his mouth on hers caused his fang to knick her lower lip, flooding his mouth with her blood. She tried to be patient as he explored the weight and texture of her breasts in his hands, enjoying the open look of wonder, awe, and disbelief that his usually stoic face showed.

 

She was careful to unbutton his jacket and shirt rather than rip them open, letting herself savor the hard planes of his chest and the ribbed, muscular expanse of his stomach and abdomen. It was more difficult to push the tight fit of his pants off his hips and down off of his buttocks, but it bought him precious time to look and explore even as it keep her preoccupied. As the hard tightness of his buttocks clenched under her cupping palms, she smiled, fierce and hungry; satisfied with the strength of her lover. There was no denying her own strength as she hooked one knee high over his hip and pulled his hips to hers. He shuddered against her as his erection came into contact with the wet folds of her sex.

 

“Now?” he asked; his voice rough and husky with passion.

 

“Soon,” she promised, arching into him so that the tip rubbed across her clitoris.

 

Slowly she began to undulate her hips; teasing them both with the friction of his hardness against her slick, yielding softness without the final satisfaction of letting him slide home inside. It wasn't until the grip of his hand on her shoulder, the prick of his claws in the flesh of her thigh, the coiled tension in his body matched the urgency in her own that she relented. Pressing him back into the reclining position of the cocoon's cradle, she once more straddled his thighs and reached for the hard thickness of his erection.

 

Each of her movements was deliberate, slow and purposeful under his captivated eyes as she guided the head to her entrance. For a moment she rocked back, letting him take in the sight of his erection against her flushed, dewed folds. Her gaze was keen with satisfaction as his pupils dilated in response. One of her hands flew to his shoulders as, with a quick rolling thrust of her hips, she took him inside of her down to the hilt. His sharp inhale was a match for her ragged exhale as they both shuddered once with sensory overload.

 

“Ha..ji...” she struggled to say as her eyes flared red and the sharp, cloying musk of her arousal thickened around them.

 

“Saya,” he exclaimed in benediction as her hips moved and she rose with languid, inhuman grace only to seat herself upon him with almost vicious efficiency. The rise and fall of her body over his was boneless, liquid, seemingly effortless and almost lazy. The rapid pants that escaped between her parted lips and the fine sheen of sweat that covered her skin belied the ease with which she moved above him.

 

Her red, red eyes never left his as the gentle grey blue of his swelled to a slitted, vibrant crimson. She smiled a Madonna's smile; soft and pure, tender and trusting, just for him. Her eyes were loving as she pressed her forehead to his, sharing his breath.

 

“Haji,” she said his name as a caress, her hands smoothing over his cheeks. Her white fangs flashed as she worried her lower lip until it bled freely, then kissed him deeply. The inner muscles of her sheath rippled with orgasm even as her essence filled his mouth and he swallowed her down. The soft, sensitive skin of his outer thigh slid against the tender inside of hers as his body jerked with his own climax.

 

The fingers of his human slid into her dark, dark hair, pulling her into the kiss even as his Chiropteran hand brought her down onto the final, violent thrust of his hips. His instinctive cry was muffled by her lips as she stole it away; gripping him with her hands and thighs as his body shuddered and trembled under hers. She held him until he went still, until the euphoric bliss of their joining had eased.

 

She sat back to get a better look at him, his haggard gasp of response to her movement bringing an affectionate, slightly mischievous smile of satisfaction to her face. His arrested, naked expression of adoration and awe was enough to make her blink back tears as she lightly traced the contours of his face with her fingertips.

 

“I love you,” he told her in that quiet way of his, “Always.”

 

The brightness of her smile deepened, quieted; became sad and poignant. With self conscious awkwardness, she leaned forward to press her face into the vulnerable, sheltering curve of his throat. Her fingers traced idle insignias of love and devotion on the skin of his chest as her touch said everything she could not.

 

“Don't ever leave me, Haji,” she commanded selfishly.

 

“Never,” he responded with unconditional surrender.

 

She sighed, but the sound was one of exasperated contentment.

 

“I'm still quite spoiled, aren't I?” she commented as she looped her arms around the small of his back and laid her head on his shoulder.

 

A rare, unlooked for smile of amusement lit his face and eyes as he ran his fingers through the mass of her dark hair.

 

“Yes,” he responded teasingly in his polite, even toned voice, “But I do not mind.”

 

“Haji!” she protested, balling her hand into a fist and thumping his chest lightly. His soft chuckle was worth every ounce of her mortification, and without bitterness or ire she joined in with a laugh of her own.

 

Energized and suddenly restless, she scrambled out of the cocoon and tackled the stairs, sparing him a glance over her shoulder. The sight of him, disheveled and embarrassed, his face pink with preoccupied helplessness as he tried to piece together the ruined front of his pants, brought an amused giggle to her lips as she leapt out into the sunshine.

 

The sound of a distant motorcycle had her cupping her hands behind her ears and listening intently. She turned back to see that Haji had followed her, and was still struggling with the damage she'd done. After another chuckle—which she tried unsuccessfully to suppress—she took pity on him and stole the lopsided ribbon out of his hair to tie the front closed.

 

He was decent by the time Kai mounted the stairs, her own nakedness modestly covered by the generous fall of her overgrown hair. Her curiosity was piqued as two dark haired girls followed behind her brother, their brown and blue eyes turned inquisitively up to meet hers.

 

“Kai…?” one said even as the other chimed in, “Is that…?”

 

“How many times have I told you to call me Dad?” Kai complained; his voice familiar even under the roughness of years gone past. His attention returned to Saya even as Haji stepped up protectively behind her.

 

“Is that her Chevalier? I bet that's her Chevalier!” one of the girls piped to the other. “Look, the one that left the rose, remember?”

 

“Ah,” the other responded with instant understanding, putting her hands together with delight. “With the ribbon, yes! I remember!”

 

Haji was left under the close scrutiny of the twins as Saya, distracted, lifted a hand to wave to Kai. Her grin of recognition was a mirror of her brothers as he dropped a change of clothes into her upturned hands.

 

“Welcome back,” Kai said almost gruffly as he gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

 

One of the twins edged closer to Haji on one side as the other drew close from the other side. Between them, they managed to crowd him into taking a hesitant step back, his face a mixture of mild dismay and tolerance.

 

“He's handsome,” the girl with the blue eyes commented with a trace of surprise.

 

“Of course he is!” the girl with the brown eyes responded somewhat flippantly. “You wouldn't make an ugly man your Chevalier, would you?!”

 

“Only if you wanted him for your lover,” the other girl teased back

 

“Ew!” she responded to her sister's jibe by sticking out her tongue.

 

“Girls!” Kai chided with long suffering familiarity. “Greet your aunt.”

 

“Welcome back, Aunt Saya,” the twins chimed in perfect unity.

 

“Tadaima,” Saya responded, smiling through her tears.

 

=#=

 

[note: tadaima is Japanese for “I'm back (home).”]