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ajremixDon't know how I feel about the execution, but here it is. Inspired by runawayballista's Policies of Relation and a sort of lead-in to my Before the Memories Tear Us Into Pieces.
Title: Knowing Without Understanding
Fandom: Red vs Blue
Rating: R
Word Count: 1420
Characters: York, Carolina, Delta
Summary: Delta never understood York's relationship with Carolina, even when they became memories.
Her body is slick in his hands, arching against him in a wordless plea for more. She's positively divine like this- hair a tangled mess and chest heaving as she grinds down at that perfect angle that makes her shudder and gasp. She clenched around him tight, drawing him in impossibly deep where muscles ripple and pulse, igniting his sense with heat and slick and perfect. She bites her lip, throws her head back, cries out until her arms nearly give out on her and when she looks down at him and smiles, he comes undone.
~*~*~*~
Delta knew without understanding many things pertaining to his host. It would likely be the case no matter who he was assigned to and in many ways York was both more and less logical than many of the other agents and sometimes Delta couldn't predict when those bouts of logic and randomness would occur. Often, thankfully, York would take Delta's advice during missions. Often, conversely, he would not when it came to Carolina.
The AI tried to explain the dangers of fraternization to York and then to Carolina when it was clear he wouldn't listen. Delta talked about how their attachment could endanger the mission and other agents, how it could create unnecessary tensions and how it put them both at great emotional risk.
"We're all adults, Delta," Carolina told him, "we can cope. And we've talked about this before and agree that the mission comes first. If something happens to either of us, we'll deal with it."
"And if we are going to die at any moment," York threw his arms around Carolina with a grin, "then we may as well enjoy ourselves while we can!"
"[Enjoyment has little to do with efficiency.]" Delta told them.
~*~*~*~
His lips tease up her shoulder, a flash of teeth at the length of her neck and tongue lapping sweat from the wings of her collarbone. Her breasts are small and he loves how they fit in his palms, how she writhes when his nails trace over pebbled skin. He teases until she whimpers, until her fingers scratch down his back and she begs him by pushing him down until his lips trace the crease of her thigh, wanting him down where she aches, where she needs him most. Because his tongue tracing her folds drives her wild and his fingers delving in deep makes her breathing stutter. Her thighs clench tight on either side of his head and her heels dig bruises into his shoulders but he loves her like this. He loves building her up and up until he knows when she's about to go over the edge- can smell it on her body –and he pulls her down from it. It's a sweet torture he inflicts, over and over again, just to hear her begging in the syllable of his name, breathless and frustrated and seeing how long she can force herself to endure before she presses him closer to her, presses herself closer to climax. His fingers dimple the skin of her hips and she feels the barest hint of teeth before he presses in, humming at her taste and the universe explodes inside her body.
She's still shivering when he sits back, licking the taste of her from his mouth and even though she's still lying boneless, her eyes are challenging, daring him to outlast her torture on him.
~*~*~*~
The need for physical release was one of those things Delta knew but didn't understand. He knew without understanding the urges and how they could build until it became a distraction. He did not know or understand why York was so fascinated by Carolina or why they built up and drew out their time spent together until a mutual release that should have taken minutes stretched into hours. Fingers brushing through hair and hand holding hand offered no use that Delta could fathom and yet they did so constantly, as if it were natural. Stolen touches, stolen moments, a smile that would set York's heart racing and fleeting images of previous encounters flashing through his mind.
[Focus, Agent New York.]
"It's York, D. And don't worry- I'm focused."
[You're thinking of Agent Carolina.]
He could feel York grinning as the last decrypted lock popped open. "Just needed a little motivation."
~*~*~*~
The wall is hard against her back and he pins her against it with equally hard thrusts. She's all sharp edges and crushing force, demanding he overwhelm her with a show of strength, crush all traces of hesitation and tenderness in a tidal wave of want. She shows no mercy as teeth mar skin and she won't allow him to give her any, even if he weren't already drowning in this frantic moment when it's never hard enough, fast enough, raw enough for either of them. It's life at its most animalistic, a confirmation that they're there, they're real, a reminder that will shadow them for days until aches fade and bruises disappear. It reminds them that they only feel this kind of alive with each other.
~*~*~*~
Humans were not like computer or data or anything else that acted and reacted in a logical and therefore predictable manner. Each followed their own version of logic that would occasionally be rewritten as convenience dictated because they were human and flawed and not restricted by what was programmed into them. It was such a logical and obvious conclusion that, were he capable of it, Delta would've been a little ashamed of how long it took to understood that.
Though the revelation didn't allow Delta to understand York any better, it did make it easier to work with the man and Delta continued to give advice where needed. Delta understood that he would never understand emotion and so stopped asking for clarification. York, in turn, continued his habit of mixing logic with chaos and Delta, knowing he couldn't stop York, merely adjusted his logic to every new situation.
~*~*~*~
He kisses her from ankle to knee before settling between her legs, just barely brushing against her until she pulls him down with her knee over his shoulder, down until she can kiss him and even now he sometimes forgets that she really is that flexible and is happily surprised every time. Her hands ghost over his sides, down the taper of his waist before hitting the 'v' of muscles that leads her hands down to grip him at his root, guiding him in. She inhales- sharp, quivering, impossibly full –and he exhales- soft, weak and overcome with sensation. She whispers order in his ear and he can't do anything by comply. She holds him close, matching every thrust with words spilling off her lips and for once he can barely say a thing, just promising her forever.
~*~*~*~
Delta waited until York's breathing evened out and his hummingbird pulse slowed to its natural pace. He'd long since stopped questioning or analyzing the reasons behind York shoving a hand inside his pants and pumping himself until he muffled a cry behind teeth clenched down on a knuckle- all except one question which he hadn't felt entirely certain was appropriate. Delta understood he didn't understand emotion, but he also understood the subject was a difficult one for York. But perhaps now enough time had passed for him to ask.
[York?]
"Yeah, D?" The former Freelancer wiped off his hand on the hem of an old shirt that he lazily tossed aside.
[I understand humans feel the need to physically relieve themselves, but why do you consciously remember Agent Carolina at this time? The memories always seem to], Delta knew those emotions well these days- loneliness, anger, despair –even as he only knew them through York and he hesitated in naming them for .36 seconds before settling on, [cause you distress.]
York let out a shallow huff of bitter laughter. "Just because she's dead doesn't mean I stop loving her."
[I see,] said Delta, but he didn't understand.
~*~*~*~
Her hands skim over him- lazy, sated, just wanting to feel the lean lines of his body as she lay behind him. He takes one of her hands and laces his fingers between hers because he can and he wants to. He rolls back, just enough to lean against her, just enough so that if he turned his head he could smell the intoxicating scent of her hair. She kisses his shoulder and he falls asleep thinking how could he possibly be this lucky?
Title: Knowing Without Understanding
Fandom: Red vs Blue
Rating: R
Word Count: 1420
Characters: York, Carolina, Delta
Summary: Delta never understood York's relationship with Carolina, even when they became memories.
Her body is slick in his hands, arching against him in a wordless plea for more. She's positively divine like this- hair a tangled mess and chest heaving as she grinds down at that perfect angle that makes her shudder and gasp. She clenched around him tight, drawing him in impossibly deep where muscles ripple and pulse, igniting his sense with heat and slick and perfect. She bites her lip, throws her head back, cries out until her arms nearly give out on her and when she looks down at him and smiles, he comes undone.
~*~*~*~
Delta knew without understanding many things pertaining to his host. It would likely be the case no matter who he was assigned to and in many ways York was both more and less logical than many of the other agents and sometimes Delta couldn't predict when those bouts of logic and randomness would occur. Often, thankfully, York would take Delta's advice during missions. Often, conversely, he would not when it came to Carolina.
The AI tried to explain the dangers of fraternization to York and then to Carolina when it was clear he wouldn't listen. Delta talked about how their attachment could endanger the mission and other agents, how it could create unnecessary tensions and how it put them both at great emotional risk.
"We're all adults, Delta," Carolina told him, "we can cope. And we've talked about this before and agree that the mission comes first. If something happens to either of us, we'll deal with it."
"And if we are going to die at any moment," York threw his arms around Carolina with a grin, "then we may as well enjoy ourselves while we can!"
"[Enjoyment has little to do with efficiency.]" Delta told them.
~*~*~*~
His lips tease up her shoulder, a flash of teeth at the length of her neck and tongue lapping sweat from the wings of her collarbone. Her breasts are small and he loves how they fit in his palms, how she writhes when his nails trace over pebbled skin. He teases until she whimpers, until her fingers scratch down his back and she begs him by pushing him down until his lips trace the crease of her thigh, wanting him down where she aches, where she needs him most. Because his tongue tracing her folds drives her wild and his fingers delving in deep makes her breathing stutter. Her thighs clench tight on either side of his head and her heels dig bruises into his shoulders but he loves her like this. He loves building her up and up until he knows when she's about to go over the edge- can smell it on her body –and he pulls her down from it. It's a sweet torture he inflicts, over and over again, just to hear her begging in the syllable of his name, breathless and frustrated and seeing how long she can force herself to endure before she presses him closer to her, presses herself closer to climax. His fingers dimple the skin of her hips and she feels the barest hint of teeth before he presses in, humming at her taste and the universe explodes inside her body.
She's still shivering when he sits back, licking the taste of her from his mouth and even though she's still lying boneless, her eyes are challenging, daring him to outlast her torture on him.
~*~*~*~
The need for physical release was one of those things Delta knew but didn't understand. He knew without understanding the urges and how they could build until it became a distraction. He did not know or understand why York was so fascinated by Carolina or why they built up and drew out their time spent together until a mutual release that should have taken minutes stretched into hours. Fingers brushing through hair and hand holding hand offered no use that Delta could fathom and yet they did so constantly, as if it were natural. Stolen touches, stolen moments, a smile that would set York's heart racing and fleeting images of previous encounters flashing through his mind.
[Focus, Agent New York.]
"It's York, D. And don't worry- I'm focused."
[You're thinking of Agent Carolina.]
He could feel York grinning as the last decrypted lock popped open. "Just needed a little motivation."
~*~*~*~
The wall is hard against her back and he pins her against it with equally hard thrusts. She's all sharp edges and crushing force, demanding he overwhelm her with a show of strength, crush all traces of hesitation and tenderness in a tidal wave of want. She shows no mercy as teeth mar skin and she won't allow him to give her any, even if he weren't already drowning in this frantic moment when it's never hard enough, fast enough, raw enough for either of them. It's life at its most animalistic, a confirmation that they're there, they're real, a reminder that will shadow them for days until aches fade and bruises disappear. It reminds them that they only feel this kind of alive with each other.
~*~*~*~
Humans were not like computer or data or anything else that acted and reacted in a logical and therefore predictable manner. Each followed their own version of logic that would occasionally be rewritten as convenience dictated because they were human and flawed and not restricted by what was programmed into them. It was such a logical and obvious conclusion that, were he capable of it, Delta would've been a little ashamed of how long it took to understood that.
Though the revelation didn't allow Delta to understand York any better, it did make it easier to work with the man and Delta continued to give advice where needed. Delta understood that he would never understand emotion and so stopped asking for clarification. York, in turn, continued his habit of mixing logic with chaos and Delta, knowing he couldn't stop York, merely adjusted his logic to every new situation.
~*~*~*~
He kisses her from ankle to knee before settling between her legs, just barely brushing against her until she pulls him down with her knee over his shoulder, down until she can kiss him and even now he sometimes forgets that she really is that flexible and is happily surprised every time. Her hands ghost over his sides, down the taper of his waist before hitting the 'v' of muscles that leads her hands down to grip him at his root, guiding him in. She inhales- sharp, quivering, impossibly full –and he exhales- soft, weak and overcome with sensation. She whispers order in his ear and he can't do anything by comply. She holds him close, matching every thrust with words spilling off her lips and for once he can barely say a thing, just promising her forever.
~*~*~*~
Delta waited until York's breathing evened out and his hummingbird pulse slowed to its natural pace. He'd long since stopped questioning or analyzing the reasons behind York shoving a hand inside his pants and pumping himself until he muffled a cry behind teeth clenched down on a knuckle- all except one question which he hadn't felt entirely certain was appropriate. Delta understood he didn't understand emotion, but he also understood the subject was a difficult one for York. But perhaps now enough time had passed for him to ask.
[York?]
"Yeah, D?" The former Freelancer wiped off his hand on the hem of an old shirt that he lazily tossed aside.
[I understand humans feel the need to physically relieve themselves, but why do you consciously remember Agent Carolina at this time? The memories always seem to], Delta knew those emotions well these days- loneliness, anger, despair –even as he only knew them through York and he hesitated in naming them for .36 seconds before settling on, [cause you distress.]
York let out a shallow huff of bitter laughter. "Just because she's dead doesn't mean I stop loving her."
[I see,] said Delta, but he didn't understand.
~*~*~*~
Her hands skim over him- lazy, sated, just wanting to feel the lean lines of his body as she lay behind him. He takes one of her hands and laces his fingers between hers because he can and he wants to. He rolls back, just enough to lean against her, just enough so that if he turned his head he could smell the intoxicating scent of her hair. She kisses his shoulder and he falls asleep thinking how could he possibly be this lucky?
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Date: 2012-04-01 02:29 am (UTC)