Allie's War Season One

by JC Andrijeski

  Which was fine...and fair enough...except that I was probably the crappiest person on the planet at giving signals.

  I could just wait. We’d both tacitly agreed to wait, and it had only been a few days; I should probably just let things play out naturally.

  Sooner or later, we’d have to talk about it.

  Or, given our past track record...not.

  There had been a few tense moments that day. I’d jokingly shoved him on the picnic blanket during lunch, and it nearly turned into a wrestle when he grabbed my arms...right before he abruptly backed off. He reacted when I took down my hair. I felt it before I saw it, and wasn’t even sure I’d read him right until I glanced over and saw his jaw clenched.

  He reacted to my announcement that I was going swimming, too.

  He was possibly angry about my reaction to his offer...or maybe embarrassed because I’d essentially turned him down. I didn’t know if he got embarrassed about things like that, though. He seemed pretty open about sex in general, with everyone but me anyway.

  I got the impression he was still holding on to the Maygar thing. He wasn’t happy that I’d fought him...I definitely picked up on that at least once. I was pretty sure he blamed himself more for what happened after, but he hated that I’d agreed to fight him in the first place.

  Hell, we probably needed to fight ourselves...which we’d still never done. Just spar it out until one or both of us cut the crap. Given his record in that area though, it might not be much of a match.

  And that brought me back around to his original offer.

  Was I being stupid?

  It was a one-way ticket, so there was that. But I was pretty sure we’d both already signed on for that part, so waiting a few more weeks wasn’t going to change anything there.

  I still didn’t completely trust him. There was that.

  But he’d acknowledged that, too, in his way. And I was pretty sure the only thing that would fix that would be time. Truthfully, at that point, I didn’t really think he’d cheat on me...my mind didn’t, anyway, when I reasoned it out. Now that he’d decided to be married, I believed him that the rules had changed for him. He was a seer, after all.

  But believing him and trusting him still weren’t fully aligned in my head.

  Gritting my teeth, I sat up.

  I slid off the edge of the bed before I really thought about what I was doing.

  I’d leave myself an out...see if he was awake, ask if he wanted to go look at the stars.

  Walking to the door to the other room, I stopped again, second-guessing everything for another few seconds. He’d never buy that. On the other hand, did it matter? I’d seen through his attempts at meeting me halfway, too.

  Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open as softly as I could.

  I listened to the quiet. At first I wondered if he’d left again.

  Then I heard him breathing.

  I couldn’t tell if he was awake, not for sure. His breathing wasn’t exactly regular, but it was heavier than usual, so he was most likely asleep and dreaming. Before I could talk myself out of it, I crossed the rug-covered floor in my bare feet, telling myself I was just going to look. If he really was awake, maybe he would want to go outside with me.

  Or fight me. Whichever.

  But he wasn’t awake. Sprawled on his back, he lay on the couch fully dressed, an arm hooked around the cushion behind his head. An old paperback book lay on the floor by the couch, almost as if it had fallen from his fingers when he dozed off. I glanced at the title, saw that it was some Russian writer, and fiction. He read a lot, as a general rule, but I couldn’t remember ever seeing him read fiction before, not even on the ship.

  His face rested against the back cushion, leaving its outline in profile. His other hand lay on his stomach. He didn’t look wholly relaxed, though; whatever he was dreaming about, it left a vague tension around his eyes.

  The couch was wide, I noticed. Even with him lying flat on his back, I could fit there, next to him. Staring at that foot and a half of fabric, I hesitated. I wondered if he would mind waking up with me next to him.

  More likely, I’d startle him and end up in a headlock, or on the floor.

  After a brief tug of war in my head, I sat down...carefully.

  He didn’t wake.

  His light shifted though, once I’d been sitting there for a few seconds. It moved like a living thing, separate from the rest of him. I felt it change...right before it snaked around my outline, dancing in pale eddies as it explored. I fought not to react, but, looking at him, I felt the pain deepening, flickering at the edges of my awareness. I watched it rise, knowing it would only get worse the longer I sat there.

  I should leave. Now. Before I did something stupid.

  I watched his face tighten as he resettled on his back. Somehow, my mind returned to that first morning, in Seattle. Despite all the horrible things that happened with us afterwards, I’d woken up wrapped in his arms.

  He’d wanted sex with me that morning, too. He’d asked me for it outright, before I managed to offend him completely and screw things up between us for weeks by turning him down...and worse, by seeming to offer him to Kat as a plaything in my stead.

  I wondered how different things would be with us now, if I’d taken him up on that initial offer.

  I continued to sit there as his light wound up liquidly through mine.

  “Revik?” I whispered.

  He didn’t move. His breathing didn’t change.

  I stroked his forearm, tracing the line of muscle with my fingers. His arms were bigger than they had been in Seertown. Wherever he’d been these past few weeks, he’d gotten exercise. His face had filled out more, too, and his skin was tan from being outside. It had been before our excursions of the past few days.

  I watched his expression relax as I touched him.

  I cleared my throat. “Revik?”

  He’d been a light sleeper on the ship. Half the time when I woke up, he wasn’t there. I caressed his fingers, pausing on the ring he wore, thinking about what it meant, his wearing it. I’d been afraid to ask, but I wondered if the finger he’d chosen meant anything, either.

  I tried to make up my mind to leave.

  I laid a hand on his chest. His light opened more, the longer I left my hand there, until his pain gradually bled into mine. I saw his face tighten as I slid my palm up to his shoulder. I massaged the muscle there slowly, watching him relax deeper into the couch. When he still didn’t move, I found myself doing the same to his chest through his shirt.

  I did that for probably far too long.

  Finally, I made up my mind to leave.

  When I took my hands off him, I felt his breathing accelerate.

  He was awake. I hesitated, looking at him, watching his face. My eyes had adjusted to the dark, so I could see him almost clearly. He hadn’t opened his eyes, or done anything really, but he was awake…I could feel it. His light felt different, too.

  I could just leave. He probably wouldn’t say anything if I just stood up and left. But I found myself sitting there anyway.

  “Revik,” I said, quiet.

  I felt his reluctance. He didn’t want to talk. He also didn’t want me to leave. He wanted me to touch him. I felt him wanting it...

  “Revik,” I said, softer.

  Slowly, he turned his head.

  His eyes were glassed to the point of being opaque. Watching him look at me, I fumbled with words, trying to decide if there was anything I could say that would explain this...what I was doing. I was still looking at him when he lowered his hand, stroking my calf gently with his fingers, using his light to pull on mine.

  It felt like a question.

  I thought of all the b.s. I’d considered feeding him, about looking at stars and getting up because I’d been bored...

  I found myself lost in his open expression instead.

  We gazed at each other’s faces in the bluish light from the window, and I couldn’t help but think about his e
xplanation for why he’d brought me here.

  I felt his shock that I’d woken him, but he didn’t let me close enough to see much past it. I could still feel him not wanting to talk, almost aggressively not wanting to talk to me. Despite his shields, I was lost inside his light, further in than I’d realized. He wanted me to keep touching him. He thought if we talked, he’d say something and I’d stop touching him.

  I understood...I really did.

  I also felt the part of me that still wanted to hesitate, that was still waiting for him to say something or do something, something that probably wouldn’t even reassure me.

  ...until I let that go, too. Finally.

  And then I was just looking at him, biting my lip against the pain in my chest. It bled slowly into a coiling nausea when I didn’t move.

  He caressed my hand, threading our fingers.

  Pain flickered around the edges of his light, too, but he had it under control again. Briefly, I saw the predator thing rise to his eyes. I saw his throat move, just before his gaze shifted down. He focused briefly on my mouth. I felt the question on him again, but further away that time.

  Taking another breath, I shifted closer to where he lay.

  Without dropping my gaze, I slid a hand under his shirt, pushing the soft fabric up his body. His skin reacted under my fingers like they carried a faint electrical charge. I watched his eyes though, and they didn’t move. His body didn’t move either, while I caressed him. He seemed to hold his breath, leaning into me gradually as I explored his skin.

  It occurred to me that I’d only really seen him without a shirt once, in Seattle...and I pushed the one he wore up further, so I could look at him. I saw the tattoo on his arm, a blue and black band of writing he’d told me on the ship he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten. His chest was covered in fine, dark hairs and still muscular, though not as large as I remembered.

  I massaged him slowly, exploring him with my hands.

  I felt his breathing grow heavy when I didn’t stop. His fingers tightened on my arm, but otherwise he didn’t move, not even to look at me. I tugged the shirt up past his shoulders.

  After the barest pause, he sat up, helping me take it off his head and arms.

  When I dropped it to the floor, his fingers found my hair. His body softened, right before he tried to pull my mouth to his, but I stopped him gently with my hand.

  I felt pain on him, a caught breath.

  “Allie,” he murmured. His voice tugged at me gently.

  He seemed to want to say more, but didn’t.

  Easing his hands out of the way, I slid into his lap.

  He didn’t move as I unhooked his belt, tugging the leather tongue out of a loop, then away from the silver prong. I felt disbelief on him as I pulled it out from around him...just before he caught hold of me. He clenched a hand in my hair as I dropped his belt on the floor.

  When I slid deeper into his lap, he let out a low groan.

  The sound stopped me, cold.

  I looked at him.

  “You said it was an open offer, right?” I said, quiet.

  His eyes flickered up, off my body, where he stared at me in his lap like he couldn’t believe it. He gazed back at me for a few seconds more, at a loss. His eyes studied mine in the half-dark, as if trying to read me without reaching out.

  Then his fingers tightened in my hair, pulling my mouth roughly to his.

  He kissed me, using his tongue, his skin flushing hot.

  After a few seconds, he groaned against my mouth. I found myself trying to calm him with my light, but he pushed my attempts away, nearly frantic. The urgency on him completely threw me. I tried again to compensate, to slow him down, but he pushed at my light again, gasping against my mouth, his hand under my shirt. When I opened, half in shock, he wound into me until I gasped, until both of us were half-blind with pain. He let out another groan as his body melted under mine, just before he arched against me.

  Trying a different tack, I took his hand, bringing it to my breast, and his pain worsened. He slowed though, caressing me gently as I kissed his neck. He pushed up my shirt, using his tongue and his light until I couldn’t think straight, until my fingers clenched in his hair.

  He took one of my hands, bringing it down past where his belt had been. He kissed me harder, holding my palm and fingers against the part of him that was now straining his pants. When I massaged him there, he groaned again, louder, his pain rippling out at me until we were both sweating.

  “Allie...gods...”

  He fell silent. Again, I felt him wanting to say more. He fought to pull back, to control his light. I curled my arm around his neck, caressing his chest.

  “Revik, it’s all right,” I murmured. “Baby, it’s all right...let go...”

  “Tell me. Please, Allie. Tell me what’s all right...”

  I slid deeper into his lap, kissing his face. “I want this,” I said, soft. “I want you.” I kissed him again. “...Do you want me?”

  His fingers tightened more. I felt a flicker of disbelief on him again.

  He didn’t move though, and he didn’t look up.

  Biting my lip, I eased off with my light, sliding backwards slightly on his legs.

  “Do you still want to wait?” I said. “Revik, just tell me. I’m not trying to push you...”

  I didn’t realize my eyes were glowing until he looked up; I saw his face lit with a greenish cast, my eyes reflected in his.

  I could feel more off him now, but in layers, sliding in and out of the edges of his light. Behind his eyes, mine reflected sunlight; my lips curved in a smile, clothing plastered to my body as I waded out of the river, laughing. I felt desire on him...dense...enough that my hands hurt, my mouth, even my tongue. It worsened when I saw him masturbating in the shower, eyes closed, fighting to keep his light from mine in the other room. He leaned against the shower wall, fantasized about fucking me in the field by the river, in front of the fireplace, on the kitchen table, the bed in the other room...

  The image faded even as I realized he was trying to shield from me once more, and only half-succeeding. It wasn’t shyness exactly...whatever it was felt closer to fear, an uncertainty of how I saw him...how I might react if he went too far. I felt a consciousness on him of difference between us, in background, in age, in how I was raised...an awareness and memory of how most humans saw him. Hitting me in odd pieces, it brought the pain back, connecting his mind with the look on his face now.

  We were kissing then. He leaned back on the couch, pulling me against him, and I shifted deeper into his lap, moving so that I sat astride him. Everything hurt. His hands tightened on my hips, holding them flush with his as he bled his light deeper into mine. I felt intention behind it, a flicker of caution as he wound deeper into me, opening me further.

  A blank stretch of time passed before I realized he was taking off my clothes. He worked the catches of the silk shirt with clumsy fingers, still pulling on my light, still trying to bring more of it into his. I sat back on his legs as he eased the last of the shirt off my arms. Then he was looking at me. He stared for a full minute before his eyes closed, longer than a blink.

  “Allie,” he said. “Allie...if you’re not sure about this...tell me.”

  “If you want to stop,” I said. “...just stop, Revik. Please.”

  He picked me up, bringing me with him to the floor.

  I felt disbelief in his light again, folded into an urgency that worsened as he lay on me. I stopped him, long enough to help him the rest of the way out of his pants. Circling my waist gently with one arm, he lifted my hips, hooking my underwear with his fingers to ease them down my legs. He paused again once he got them off...long enough to take in my naked body in the light from the window.

  His pain turned liquid, sliding deeper as I caressed his chest.

  “Please,” he murmured. He was sweating. “Allie. Please...do you really want this? I may not be able to stop...”

  His pain flared again, sparking in my li
ght as his slid deeper, trying to open mine more. The reality of what we were doing hit me, snapping me back to where I was, who I was with. He pulled on me harder with his light, trying to loosen my hold on mine. Guilt lived there, but mixed with a desire that shifted into a near desperation. He wanted me to lose control, I realized; he was trying to work his way under my defenses, one by one, in any way he could...trying to seduce me even as I was lying naked under him. Some part of him was hedging his bets, tying me to him, fighting to get me to submit...

  I caressed his face, kissing his jawline. “I’m not going to tell you to stop,” I murmured. “...I’m not, Revik...I promise you...” I opened so that he felt more of my pain, enough that his jaw hardened. A thick flush of heat pulsed off him as he looked at me again.

  He sank his body into mine as he kissed my mouth.

  For what felt like a long time, that was all we did. I forgot where I was until it started to hurt again...starting with his hands on my upper arms, moving through my stomach, my chest, the light in my throat. His pain worsened, winding up into me until I was nearly frantic. I felt him losing control over his light, thinking about what he wanted, how much he could ask me for...how gradually he should work his way into asking for more...

  I was asking him then. I couldn’t tell if it was aloud or inside my head, but I asked him again. He made some kind of sound...

  ...right before his voice rose.

  “Allie...wait,” he murmured. “Wait...”

  I looked up. We were both naked; all I could feel was his skin, a wool rug at my back. He was hard; I could feel him fighting not to press it against me, even as his legs held mine apart. His arm was wrapped around me, keeping me motionless as he started to pull back, to extricate his light from mine without really letting any of it go. I felt myself recoil as what he was doing sank in, but his hands only tightened more, holding me under him.

  He pulled on me again, hard enough that I gasped, clutching his arms.

  “Allie.” I felt reluctance on him, another flush of pain. “Was Tarsi right?”