InsaneJournal

My Sweet Little Religion
Who: Charlie & Rylee
What: My sweet little religion, you mean everything to me.
Where: La-La Land
When: 2 AM
Warnings: NSFW, like, seriously.
Notes: Shameless. Absolutely shameless.



Falling into bed was always an easy and welcome task - mainly because it bid the current day and its woes adieu. And yet it also brought on the next day and a new set of worries that Charlie was never quite prepared to deal with, though that could be described toward many things she said or did. Still, once changed out of work clothes and into pajamas, under the covers and with her head balanced snugly on the pillow, sleep came swiftly.

Generally dreams were few and far between, but this particular night brought a full surround sound image into her mind: she could feel the solid ground beneath her feet, the wind whipping against her face, taste the dust that rode the air. There was no confusion to be had, no worry as to how she ended up in this place; it felt as natural as anything else she’d ever done in her life, as though she’d been here a dozen times before. It was a nearly demolished city, devoid of life, the buildings crumbling and being reclaimed by whatever little flora was left to the barren landscape. Charlie was standing in some sort of a town square, near a dry fountain with cracked tiles.

Her hand reached out to brush the edge of the fountain, the stone gravelly and warm under her hand. A bright sun was beating down from above, lighting everything in her vision with startling clarity. Like some sort of adventurer or perhaps backpacker, she was dressed solely in a white wife beater and jeans, hiking boots on her feet - but she had no other supplies, and what was more, felt no need for them. Her fingers drew back from the stone wall, rubbing bits of stone between gentle pads.

The atmosphere that hinted at the destruction of war wasn’t a surprise for Rylee. He had watched a lengthy documentary about ancient wars prior to going to bed. A lengthy afternoon and evening off and that’s how he had spent it. There weren’t many other ways he’d rather spend his time off, aside from spending it with Charlie, and maybe it was that thought which brought the two of them together as he fell asleep.

There was a crunching created with each step he took as he traveled over the town square, looking around cautiously at the destroyed landscape and feeling only the smallest twinge of anxiety. But upon seeing Charlie it slipped away and a smile appeared on Rylee’s face. Rylee felt that it was only natural to see her here and didn’t question this. Instead he passed over the broken land, aiming his footing towards his friend, and ran a hand through his hair.

Footsteps broke through her examination of the fountain, and she turned quickly on the balls of her feet, though the hackles that were rising fast in order to face whatever threat approaching were soothed when she saw Rylee’s face. This wouldn’t be the first dream she’d had about him, and probably not the last, but it was most certainly the oddest. Charlie didn’t move toward him, instead waiting for him to come to her as was the norm in their relationship; and as he neared just a few paltry feet between them, she favored him with a smile.

Waving a hand to indicate the destruction around them, she gave him a questioning look. “Any idea where we are, mister smarty pants?” Still she felt no anxiety at the strange location, instead only a sense of comfort with his presence. And if there was anyone she trusted to know things, it would be him - he had, after all, always been the smarter of the pair, something she unconsciously had come to rely on in later years.

“Uh,” Rylee said with a sigh as he glanced around them. “I’m not sure. Ancient... Greece? Maybe? I don’t know somewhere in the Mediterranean I think. Well, I’m guessing. You know that ancient history stuff isn’t my area of expertise.” He grinned at Charlie and took a step closer, forcing himself into her personal space but feeling that it was only natural in this place.

“I think the better question would be why we’re here. But, at the same time, I kind of don’t care what the answer is. It kind of feels great to be here.” He gave a small shrug and looked down at Charlie, his smile not having left his face although he squinted slightly from the daylight. “You know what I mean?”

She nodded, still perturbed as always by any close proximity, but this time she forced herself to keep her ground. His height forced her to look up into his face, but it was never necessarily a bad thing - though she still could recall a time when they’d been the same height, when they’d matched every race and when her carefully aimed punches to his shoulder carried weight. Now not only was he taller, but stronger too. Part of that annoyed her, that they were no longer physically matched, but she had to admit to herself that it also appealed to her. The thought of his arms... And sometimes his legs... But even here, within the dream, she shoved those aside, trying to focus on something else.

But it was a dream, and she should be able to say anything she wanted, shouldn’t she?

“It does; I mean, it looks shitty enough...no offense to the locals...if there are any,” she responded, glancing around but still seeing no one. “But it’s nice to be here.” She stopped, looking up at him again and swallowing.

“Just the two of us.”

Rylee brightened and his smile grew even more, his entire body gave off a vibe of happiness all brought on by Charlie’s comment. “Yeah, it’s kind of perfect to be here with just you. We can adventure just like we used to and it doesn’t look like anyone would mind.” He glanced about himself once more and frowned briefly despite that his happiness still shown in his eyes. “Doesn’t look like there are any locals here for you to offend, Lee. Looks like we’re on our own.”

Turning his attention back to his friend he reached out and slipped his hand into hers without even asking. He did this often in dreams, holding Charlie close to him, kissing her, and she sometimes accepted these gestures, sometimes not. But still Rylee tried in his dreams because he never had the courage to do this while he was awake. Giving her hand a gentle squeeze and making small circles over the back of her hand, feeling the soft skin under his thumb, he gave a nod of his head away from the fountain. “Let’s go investigate where we’re at.”

She nodded again, lacing her fingers in his with an eased motion that felt entirely natural. The contact of his body with hers was reassuring, but she wondered if that was because it was a dream, and her mind was elsewhere, or if this was simply how she felt. Even in the few times their hands had brushed against one another when she was awake - and not in a dream space where she could probably have pictured Rylee in a far more vulnerable pose and setting - she’d definitely not disliked the sensations that it caused.

For now, she simply wrapped her hand in his and gave a tug, picking a nearby and somewhat not entirely demolished building to explore in. Their relationship had always been one of him falling in step with her trailblazing, and she didn’t expect the dream to be any different - the doorway to the building was just that, a bare frame with no actual door. The ceiling likewise had been carved out, or blown out, though either could have been possible depending on how old the place was. It subtly reminded her of the huts back in the suck, the ones she was working to examine; and the one that had eventually put her in the hospital. Shaking her head, she removed the image from her mind and focused on the warm clasp of Rylee’s hand.

“This place looks like a sty,” she commented dryly, eyes grazing over the few contents of the one room they were in. A chest in the corner, closed; a table with a single chair; and in the corner, a bed that still held what could have been a straw stuffed mattress. A few pieces of pottery were settled here and there in decoration, though most were broken. The chair next to the table was missing a leg, and everything was worn and looked like it might turn to ash with a single touch.

Rylee paused in the doorway and looked over the room. It was fascinating and seemed too real to be a dream. He had these type of dreams once in awhile, where they seemed so tangible, so specific that he had to be living it. But still there was that vague feeling around the edges of this reality that made Rylee sure that it had to be a dream. Why else could he hold onto Charlie’s hand so freely and tug her arm as he walked towards the bed. He sat down on it, feeling the mattress underneath settle with a crunching noise. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing but he had slept in worse locations during his survival training at OCS.

“It looks like there was a war here,” Rylee said quietly as he gave Charlie a gentle squeeze of her hand and pulled her closer, urging her to sit down beside him. “I didn’t get to do a lot of work outside of the base in Iraq but the little I did see of it... sort of reminds me of there.” He gazed around, looking out the doorway to the broken street and homes that shone int he sun; his attention suddenly snapped to Charlie. She had seen that type of devastation and it nearly cost her life. “Are you okay with being in here?”

Her eyes continued around the room, still standing even as her hand was attached to his, linking them. Picking out the cracks in the walls, the beams that had supported the ceiling - there hadn’t been enough time during the explosion to recall the details of the small structure they’d invaded before it had been incinerated. Rylee’s words were lost until the last sentence, the realization that he was speaking directly to her bringing her to look down at him. Just the sight of his blue eyes looking up at her tugged at her heart and pulled a little smile from her lips, and the desire to move closer to him, maybe touch his face, became all too clear in her mind.

She made no reply, instead letting her actions speak for themselves. She was so bad with words - they were twisted in her mouth, her tongue left wanting to form and shape what she meant to say. But her hands, her arms, they were always clear, always straightforward. Her fingers hesitantly traced the outline of his cheek, eyes following the trail, and Charlie wet her lips.

“Yah know, it’s not true what he said,” she started. He was nothing more than dream figure, so surely he’d know what she was talking about. He was a figment of her imagination, so he had access to all of her memories, of her thoughts. “I like yah just the way yah are. Yah don’t have to change. Please don’t.” Her voice cracked a little at the end, perhaps seeming a touch too desperate.

Rylee’s brow furrowed and he gave a short shake of his head. He enjoyed her touch and even went so far as to lean his cheek slightly into her hand. But still, she had lost him. “What who said, Lee? Come on, sit down, unless you want to get out of this building... we could sit in the sun if it makes you comfortable. But...” He gave his head another shake, keeping his blue eyes on her as he reached up with his free hand to catch hers. “I’m not going to change. I’m not intending to. Why would I change?”

He knit his fingers with hers and pulled at both of her hands, trying once more to get her to sit down. He could just give a quick tug, make her fall onto his lap, but even in this different realm he was too shy to do that. Still he made it obvious he wanted her to sit and he felt an overwhelming urge to comfort Charlie over whatever it was that was obviously bothering her.

She gave into the tug and sat down at his side; the twisted knobs and pricks of straw weren’t comfortable, and that in itself was strange if it was a dream. But her focus was on the worry she was feeling, the intense sense of panic that if she did not get out what she was trying to say that she never would.

“‘Cause yah think I don’t like yah how yah are, but yer fine, an’ I do. I really do. Yer sweet an’ nice an’ smart an’ I don’t need another drunk idiot in my life. I’d rather have you, but I can’t, because I just fuck up anything I touch.” Their bodies were very, very close all of a sudden, hips and thighs flush against one another on the bed, which wasn’t very large to begin with. And her body was twisted toward him, face worry stricken. Her eyes watched his own expression, waiting for something, but she wasn’t sure what.

Frowning still, Rylee released Charlie’s hands and brushed at her hair, pushing it back from her face and gazing into her eyes. “Lee, you know I don’t drink very often. I don’t intend on drinking like I’ve been, I can’t handle my booze. You know, just in case you didn’t already notice. But...” He sighed and brushed a thumb along her cheek. “Charlie you don’t fuck up anything you touch. Bad shit has happened to you but it hasn’t been your fault. You do what you can and make the best of everything.”

His hand slid away from her face and trailed down her back, coming to rest in the small of her back, just above her hips. It felt so right and his heart was hammering in his chest but there was a near twinge of sadness because Rylee was sure this was just another one of his dreams. If only this was real. He leaned forward and gave her a brief kiss on her forehead, hoping that this was allowed even in this dreamland, and also hoping it would make Charlie calm down. He knew that if she were to kiss him, it would erase every anxiety Rylee ever had, so he only wished it would do the same for her.

Shivers ran down her spine from the brush of his hand, arching her back just so. The warmth on the small of her back, his lips pressed against her forehead, it all felt so right. Her eyes closed and she breathed out a sigh of relief as she leaned further into him. If this was a dream, it was a slower one than she was used to; usually they were a little more, ah, recreational... But there was nothing wrong with this odd scenario. Rylee was here, his arms were around her, his voice was a lullaby in her ear and she felt safe. She always felt safe with him; and his face was so close. His lips were gentle on her skin, and she faintly remembered the way he tasted from the one kiss she’d forced on him, the night of graduation.

As she often did things, she opened her eyes to look at him once, their faces a mere inch apart. Then she closed the space, pressing her mouth to his. It was a dream, she could do whatever she liked without repercussions - and she’d often thought of this one thing, of how much she knew she’d like it and how many opportunities she’d missed doing it. Her fingers were tangled in his, their bodies close to one another, and now her mouth sealed against his in a much softer kiss than the first they’d shared so many years ago. It was perfect and just as Rylee had remembered her lips to feel.

He wasted no time in gathering his arms around her small frame, running his hands down her back in ways that he was too nervous to do when they were only kids. But he felt the skin under her shirt, felt the strap of her bra, felt her warmth and responded by kissing her harder. He broke away from her lips for a brief moment, pressing his forehead against hers as he whispered with his voice rough from desire. “I won’t change, I promise you. I’ll always be yours. Okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he kissed her again, his hands trailing from her back to her sides, resting gently on her hips while his thumbs made circles on the skin under her shirt. He could never do this while awake, he never had the confidence, but it was perfect just the way it was. It was his dream so he could control in any way he pleased.

Her back arched again, a tug in her stomach mixed with butterflies, all culminating in a warmth between her legs - hands grabbed at his shoulders, moved up his neck and cupped his face, nails raking back through his hair. For some reason, perhaps because she believed it was a dream, she felt confident in his words, trusted in him, and was utterly reassured by everything he said; after all, this was her own mind’s creation, and there was no reason for her mind to lie to her. At least, not in this way. The hands on her skin left her wanting more, much more, and her own scrambled down his body (touching everything in their path) to the hem of his own shirt, tugging it up. Palms flat against his abdomen, feeling the muscles sliding and pulsing under the skin. She pushed the shirt upward, encouraging him to remove it.

Rylee gave a brief laugh, pulling away from Charlie and lifting his arms to allow her to pull the shirt off. She had seen him without a shirt more than once. From swimming together as children to drunken partial declothing as an adult it wasn’t necessarily uncommon. But never before had Charlie been the one initiating the removal of his clothes. Never before had she touched his skin in real life or in dreams and it caused a spark in his gut. The stirring in his pants, however, was incredibly common and Rylee didn’t find that unusual at all.

He tossed the shirt onto the floor, not minding that it fell amongst dust and dirt. This was a dream; he couldn’t contract some plague or anything in a dream so it was okay, just this once. His greedy hands quickly went back to Charlie, touching her sides and ever so gently brushing over her covered breasts while his mouth found hers again. He kissed her hard, biting at her bottom lip. A light moan escaped from her mouth, and she pressed against him, his lips, his hands, his chest. Touching was far different than looking - the contours of his skin, every little bump, slope, and plane meeting her fingers as she attempted to move closer to him.

In one quick movement, Charlie slid her knees up, turning her body to rise up on them and finally straddle Rylee. Confident of the dreamscape and of her own abilities - not to mention desires and thoughts that had passed through her mind over the years. Countless numbers of dreams in her own mind had landed them in this position so many times, but for some reason it felt different this time around, more real; but Charlie dismissed that thought, disbelieving such a notion, and after capturing his face with her hands once more, she pressed a fervent kiss on him that was almost more bite than affection.

Rylee let out a gasp of air that was mixed with the deepest of groans. So often he dreamt of Charlie in this way but they were quick snapshots of different points in time. A brief moment where they were kissing, another moment where he was on top of her, another where they were laying close by. Just small brief instances of what could potentially happen in the real world but here, in this dream, it was going from moment to moment as if it were real.

Roughly, Rylee began to pull on Charlie’s own shirt. “Please?” He moaned to her. Confident in this place that his mind had created but still he wanted to be sure. He pressed his mouth to the corner of her lips, then to her jaw bone, and her neck. Nuzzling her slightly with his nose before he breathed into her ear. “This is the only time I can have you. Please, please take your shirt off.”

She wanted to say that it wasn’t true, he could have her whenever he wanted, but then again she knew that her own difficulties and defenses in the real world made the possibility into a near impossibility. Instead she opted for an impish smirk, pulling her shirt up teasingly, enjoying the dream to it’s entirety. It likewise fell to the floor with Rylee’s shirt, and her arms descended to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him close once more. The contact of skin on skin was new, at least between the two of them and to this extent, and it excited her. She pressed closer to him, her breasts crushed against his chest while her mouth found his again, biting lightly instead of kissing.

Rylee wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him as he pushed off from the mattress and got to his feet, carrying Charlie and slipping a hand to her butt to support her as he spun around. Gently, he lowered her to the bed and hovered over her with his mouth still attached to hers. Now that Charlie was resting upon the straw filled mattress Rylee allowed his hands to explore her torso. Hands slipping under her bra to gently explore her breasts. He had seen them once, years ago in a moment of embarrassment for Charlie, and in so many of his dreams they were constant visitors. But again this felt different. He pulled away, lowering his head to kiss at her breasts and nibble at her skin. Playful bites that seemed, once more, only natural in such a place.

She writhed under his attentions, surprised by his sudden dominance - even in her dreams he was still the passive, willing figure that he was in life. But she didn’t dislike the sudden change; her back arched, pushing her chest toward him, and she tried to undo the bra as un-clumsily as possible, pulling it off and throwing it to the side; the straw of the mattress dug into her back, but it was a tiny note amidst the other caresses Rylee was delivering. Topless as he, her hands ran across his back and up toward his head, fingers threading through golden hair, tugging; she wanted his mouth back, wanted to taste as well as feel. Her legs cinched around his waist, pants separating her from the entirety of his body. But they were already doing so much more; and yet it was a dream, and she knew they’d gone further than that before, even if she tried to shake the dreams from memory in the morning.

The release of the bra caused a momentary pause in Rylee’s pursuits. He looked at Charlie’s naked chest and a grin spread across his face before he gave her at first gentle kisses, then they they grew more aggressive and playful. Suckling and nipping at her nipples as Charlie pulled at his hair, bringing forth a groan from Rylee as Charlie only tempted him further with her legs wrapping tightly around his waist. He pulled his face away from her breasts and looked down at her, grinning and unable to formulate the words to describe just how happy and wonderful this weird dream was in this weird war torn land.

A grin of her own was her answer, pulling him down to her and kissing him again; this time slipping her tongue into his mouth, dancing over teeth and throughout the space. She pressed herself against him, the feeling of skin only right, except she wanted more, the feel of something deeper, wetter, red...

She shoved the thought out of her mind, completely lost as to where that particular one had come from. No, she was more than satisfied with how things were progressing, in this ravaged landscape. It might be one of the weirder sex dreams she’d ever had, but a sex dream was a sex dream was a sex dream. Her hands gripped his shoulders, letting her nails draw furrows down his back, marks of ownership that would sadly be missing in the real world.

Rylee arched his back at the feel of her nails and let out a low growl as he pressed his tongue, which seemed rougher in feel, deeper into her mouth and clashed his teeth along her lips. He rocked his hips forward, an involuntary movement, and pulled at her dark hair. He pulled back from Charlie to grin again, his eyes almost having a fiery glint to them before he indulged himself with quick tastes of her skin and his teeth yet again dragging the tender flesh.

His hand snaked its way down to Charlie’s jeans and slipped beneath the material. He slowly pulled his face away from her neck, tugging lightly at the skin there with his teeth until he had to let go and face her fully. Despite that this was his dream and he could do as he pleased, he still studied Charlie’s face as his hand slipped between her legs, making sure that this was all right even though it would be hard to stop himself at this point. “My Lady,” Rylee growled with a curl of a smile as his fingers brushed over the wetness between her legs. The nickname was odd but it felt natural and necessary. It felt as if Rylee had called her this for centuries.

“My shield piercer.” Her fingers traced the muscles and veins down his arm, sliding over his hand and pressing him into her, a gasp marking the moment he slipped inside. Legs widened in encouragement, and her mouth seemed to break her face in two as she worked his hand, giving clear instruction. The name, one she’d never heard before, gave her no pause, eyes closing as though the only thing she cared for was no longer necessarily him but the pleasure he was providing. She enjoyed his presence well enough, but there was still something missing. Eyes opened and she looked up, the grin cutting a slash instead of implying merriment. Her free hand reached for his face, nails clawing and pulling him down to her.

The name brought forth another growl from Rylee. “Always, my Lady,” he said lowly and then a low moan as Charlie’s nails drew blood. In normal circumstances he would have panicked. After they had been walking around in this strange place and touching god knows what, there was a high chance that she could be accidentally putting some bacteria into his skin. But... Rylee didn’t care. All he wanted was for her to claw again, for her to draw more blood, and he wanted to taste it and hers.

His hand worked within her, his fingers pushing further into the warm softness of her most private of parts while his thumb, with more skill than Rylee could ever hope to obtain in his waking hours, rubbed across Charlie’s clit as he kissed Charlie once more. But the kiss was turning more and more aggressive as he bit at her lip, hard enough to nearly draw blood while the back of his mind said that this dream was making him act like an animal.

Trails of red drew ragged lines across his face, but her own was not at a loss for wear. His teeth - as sharp as they’d suddenly grown - were making quick work of her lips, serrating them. But instead of terror being inspired, Charlie moaned, a strange sound that landed somewhere between a shriek and a laugh. His hand was doing enough on its own that it needed no encouragement from her, though her body certainly praised his work as her hips gyrated against him, back arched and legs spread to admit him. The hand slid up, popping open the button and slashing down the zipper of her pants. Suddenly these clothes were strange and much too close fitting, just like their skin...

“Less of this,” Rylee said lowly as he slipped his hand suddenly out of Charlie’s pants and tugged at her jeans. He grinned, blood coating his lips and teeth, and reached a hand to Charlie’s naked breast. “More of this.”

He leaned forward and kissed her, painting her lips with her own blood and pulling back slightly to lick it away. His hands slipped to her pants and began to tug them down; he wanted her naked and he wanted to be in her fully. His own jeans were still in place but there was so much he could do to her first before they reached that point. “Charlie,” he whispered, his voice almost sounding soft like Rylee’s voice naturally was, but there was still that darker edge to the tone and the name just didn’t seem fitting for her anymore. He gave a shake of his head. “Discordia.”

The name sent shivers throughout her nervous system, tickling her as she wiggled free from her pants and underwear in one stroke. It left her on her back with her legs in the air, but those she resituated around his hips, knees bending to pull him toward her.

“Timor,” she purred in her own dark vocals, hands attempting to rip at the fabric of his own pants and finding the jeans very durable toward their task. Another pull at a belt loop saw it torn away, followed by a pocket that made a nice sized hole.

Her nails were certainly holding up to the task, and she leaned into his chest, pressing a kiss, her tongue, and finally her teeth into his skin, tasting him truly. With another pull the pants came away cleanly, falling in ribbons to his feet and ankles, leaving him bare and as naked as she. Her hands climbed up his back, stretching her body upward, reaching toward his face with a little grin on her own, her expression bereft of all the prior worry and other thoughts aside from what they were doing right then, on the old bed from another time.

Rylee, or what had been Rylee, mirrored Charlie’s grin and plunged his tongue into her mouth. She had gotten rid of the unnecessary modern day clothing with the strength that she had developed over centuries. Centuries? No... but it was somehow right. He kicked at her legs, making them spread as he slipped between them. He had intended on tormenting her with his rough tongue, bringing her to climax before he climbed on top of her himself, but now that the clothing had been taken away there was nothing preventing him from topping her right now.

With a low growl that seemed more animal than human, He brought himself closer to entering her, his blood painted face shining with excitement as he drew closer. Then he blinked and it wasn’t the ancient room. It was his bedroom. He wasn’t in an ancient time. He was in the year 2011.

Rylee sat up in his bed, his breathing heavy and a tent forming in his lap. “What the fuck,” Rylee gasped. His hands ran over his face, there wasn’t any blood there and his teeth felt normal. He wasn’t covered in dust, he wasn’t naked, his jeans were folded neatly over his desk chair and he was in his boxers. That was a relief. The disappointment came when he realized he was alone in his bed, Charlie was no where to be seen, it had all been just a dream.

A hand reached for the phone with intentions of calling Charlie. I had the weirdest dream ever. But then he realized he couldn’t tell her about the sex, or the near sex they had, or how they were themselves but nearly like monster versions. He had dreamt of Charlie often but never had such strange darkness filtered into his dreams. They had never been so twisted. This was definitely something better kept to himself.

Charlie, likewise, came awake with a start, wildly looking around her bedroom in order to place herself in a known location and time. A quick intake of breath was the only sound Jack needed to know that she was up for the day, and he came bounding into the room to check on her with a wet nose pressed to her hip. Charlie passed a hand over the dog’s head, his rough fur grounding her while she attempted to sort through the left over images from the dream.

Slipping out of the bed, she padded to the kitchen, movement allowing her mind to throw all that she remembered into the trash. She poured a breakfast of kibble for the German Shepard, who jumped on the bowl quickly, while she herself leaned against the counter and tried to think of what her tasks were for the day. All she could really think of, though, was the beginning of the dream (not the last part, not the monstrous caricatures they’d become, whatever those were) where she’d been honest and what that honesty had gotten her. Instead of being turned away, being wrapped in Rylee’s arms, kissing him, and- BANG

She’d been reaching for a glass, and it fell as her mind was swept up in another moment. It bounced off the counter and onto the floor, but didn’t break. The sound was enough to snap her back to the present, though, and wipe away the last lingering thoughts that she almost held on to.