Saitoh was hard pressed to recall the last time that he’d so been tempted set aside a promise.
He knew all about temptation, about how easy it was to succumb to base desires. Promises were easy to make and easier to discard than an empty bottle of sake, if a man wasn’t careful. Saitoh was a very careful man. He had to be. A year of sobriety under his belt wasn’t enough to suppress the destructive urge, the bone snapping need to drink…to drown. Saitoh had on more than one occasion wondered if a life of alcoholic abstinence would ever get easier, if the strong sense of self-mastery that had guided him rightly in all other aspects of his life and conduct, would ever return in full and that would be able to cast aside this shameful part of himself, crush the craven weakness beneath his boot with the ease of stepping on a roach.
Takagi trembled, closing her eyes as he brushed back her hair and let his fingers slide across the soft skin of her neck and jaw. He was thankful her grey eyes were shut, thankful she couldn’t see the raw hunger in his gaze as he touched her. She was so beautiful, so responsive (And always has been…) A memory of a sigh, a sweet tasting mouth, of warm skin, slick with sweat tore through his mind like a hollow point might a less careful man’s head.
A split second was all it took and he could recall with perfect clarity the scent of her long, black hair spread out beneath her, the slide of a silken kimono slipping of a white shoulder and the shuddering, gasping way she whispered his name as she wrapped her trembling long legs around his waist and let him slide inside her.
(Stop it!) Saitoh forced himself to think of something else. (Anything else…) It took all his willpower to remove his hand from her neck. It made giving up alcohol seem almost easy. (You promised to do right by this woman...) He reminded himself sternly as he reached down and with great care not to let his hands linger on her vest, (…an innocent woman who would have a heart attack if she knew what you were thinking about) Saitoh activated his own armor, thankful for the four minute reprieve so that he could get his shit together.
He ended up with less than a minute.
Surrounded by beautiful blue-white light that surged and writhed across her armor, Takagi reached for him and heaven help him, he let her. The warmth in his chest was only partially due to the activating poly-kevlar gel. Without realizing it, Saitoh stopped breathing when her small hands came to rest on either side of his face. Concerned that the touch would trigger more memories of an intimate nature, he held very still during the first hesitant caresses.
More memories did come, but these were of a different variety, no less special, but softer and safer. He exhaled, his features become less severe. Recollections of being welcomed home after a long and dangerous mission, of sharing a bowl of soba, memories of walking side by side along a beautiful, frozen river in the dead of winter, their breath mingling as they spoke. These were the thoughts and feelings that filled him, softening the edge of his white hot desire and hunger into something more manageable.
Relief coursed through him. She was (as she had ever been) a comfort to him, a bringer of peace amid chaos. Saitoh recalled this as her soft fingers moved against his sandpaper rough jaw, a realization that caused him to actually smile, a smile that was devoid of any smirking sarcasm. He looked down at the woman wreathed in light, and felt something shift, sensed that she was slowly but surely finding her way back to him.
(I’ll be waiting…) he thought, knowing somehow that this was a promise that she’d made to him many times, as he left her, left their family for the sake of their country. He couldn’t recall an instant, save one, where he’d ever looked back when she bid him farewell.
(I was a moron) he decided, reaching for and finding a narrow waist that fit his hands perfectly. (I still am, apparently) he ruefully conceded as he caught himself staring at her sweet mouth. This woman was addictive, he decided, as the light from their nearly cured armor began to slowly fade. But this addiction, unlike the one that had ripped his family…his life completely apart, was something that was life affirming, a ferocious desire to protect and cherish. And while the desire was still present (that being the understatement of the year) it was bound by a promise that he vowed he would never break.
( I’ll take nothing that she doesn’t willingly give me…) He reminded himself as the light faded back to normal. A part of his brain (the part that apparently resided in his pants) was hoping that Takagi would be willing to give him a kiss (because a kiss given logically could be a kiss returned) but his other processing center knew that it was too soon for such things and he let the thought slide.
no subject
He knew all about temptation, about how easy it was to succumb to base desires. Promises were easy to make and easier to discard than an empty bottle of sake, if a man wasn’t careful. Saitoh was a very careful man. He had to be. A year of sobriety under his belt wasn’t enough to suppress the destructive urge, the bone snapping need to drink…to drown. Saitoh had on more than one occasion wondered if a life of alcoholic abstinence would ever get easier, if the strong sense of self-mastery that had guided him rightly in all other aspects of his life and conduct, would ever return in full and that would be able to cast aside this shameful part of himself, crush the craven weakness beneath his boot with the ease of stepping on a roach.
Takagi trembled, closing her eyes as he brushed back her hair and let his fingers slide across the soft skin of her neck and jaw. He was thankful her grey eyes were shut, thankful she couldn’t see the raw hunger in his gaze as he touched her. She was so beautiful, so responsive (And always has been…)
A memory of a sigh, a sweet tasting mouth, of warm skin, slick with sweat tore through his mind like a hollow point might a less careful man’s head.
A split second was all it took and he could recall with perfect clarity the scent of her long, black hair spread out beneath her, the slide of a silken kimono slipping of a white shoulder and the shuddering, gasping way she whispered his name as she wrapped her trembling long legs around his waist and let him slide inside her.
(Stop it!) Saitoh forced himself to think of something else. (Anything else…) It took all his willpower to remove his hand from her neck. It made giving up alcohol seem almost easy. (You promised to do right by this woman...) He reminded himself sternly as he reached down and with great care not to let his hands linger on her vest, (…an innocent woman who would have a heart attack if she knew what you were thinking about) Saitoh activated his own armor, thankful for the four minute reprieve so that he could get his shit together.
He ended up with less than a minute.
Surrounded by beautiful blue-white light that surged and writhed across her armor, Takagi reached for him and heaven help him, he let her. The warmth in his chest was only partially due to the activating poly-kevlar gel. Without realizing it, Saitoh stopped breathing when her small hands came to rest on either side of his face. Concerned that the touch would trigger more memories of an intimate nature, he held very still during the first hesitant caresses.
More memories did come, but these were of a different variety, no less special, but softer and safer. He exhaled, his features become less severe. Recollections of being welcomed home after a long and dangerous mission, of sharing a bowl of soba, memories of walking side by side along a beautiful, frozen river in the dead of winter, their breath mingling as they spoke. These were the thoughts and feelings that filled him, softening the edge of his white hot desire and hunger into something more manageable.
Relief coursed through him. She was (as she had ever been) a comfort to him, a bringer of peace amid chaos. Saitoh recalled this as her soft fingers moved against his sandpaper rough jaw, a realization that caused him to actually smile, a smile that was devoid of any smirking sarcasm. He looked down at the woman wreathed in light, and felt something shift, sensed that she was slowly but surely finding her way back to him.
(I’ll be waiting…) he thought, knowing somehow that this was a promise that she’d made to him many times, as he left her, left their family for the sake of their country. He couldn’t recall an instant, save one, where he’d ever looked back when she bid him farewell.
(I was a moron) he decided, reaching for and finding a narrow waist that fit his hands perfectly. (I still am, apparently) he ruefully conceded as he caught himself staring at her sweet mouth. This woman was addictive, he decided, as the light from their nearly cured armor began to slowly fade. But this addiction, unlike the one that had ripped his family…his life completely apart, was something that was life affirming, a ferocious desire to protect and cherish. And while the desire was still present (that being the understatement of the year) it was bound by a promise that he vowed he would never break.
( I’ll take nothing that she doesn’t willingly give me…) He reminded himself as the light faded back to normal. A part of his brain (the part that apparently resided in his pants) was hoping that Takagi would be willing to give him a kiss (because a kiss given logically could be a kiss returned) but his other processing center knew that it was too soon for such things and he let the thought slide.