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Your Id Is Watching You	By : Omnicat Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Het - Male/Female > Heero/Relena Views: 1136 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The author of this story is in no way associated with the owners/creators of Gundam Wing/AC nor Inception. This is a transformative work and not intended or used for profit.

Chapter List
- 1-Your Id Is Watching You
- 1
Your Id Is Watching You
After his experiences with the ZERO System, Heero was only marginally surprised by the emergence of technology that allowed people to literally and lucidly share dreams with others. After said experiences with the ZERO System, however, he should probably not have been as eager to try it out as he was. But when Relena looked up from the article describing it and said, with a wicked glint in her eye, “I bet at least half of all users are only in it for the sexual possibilities”... well.
They learned how to walk each other’s dreams not for anything quite so whimsical, though, but because Dorothy Catalonia recommended them a specialist little more than a week before the media first caught the ‘mind crime’ fever. Direct-from-the-brain information theft, mind control, artificial insanity - who could even predict the limits of this new technology in amoral hands? Heero and Relena had discussed the possibilities and the potential threat, of course, but before word came out about the mental compromise of the CEO of Fischer-Morrow Enterprises, one of the largest energy companies in the world, the technology seemed too premature and experimental to worry about.
Their teacher in dreaming, Mal Cobb, was a woman with warmly accented Standard and eyes far too old and wise for her age, but not in the way that they were used to seeing in so many former soldiers. She was as much a benevolent enigma as the subject she taught, almost more substantial in the dream than out of it. And as lovely and genuinely helpful as she was, Heero and Relena could feel the potential for destruction in her talents. It was a duplicity they were sadly familiar with, but were determined not to let spoil the experience for them once they realised how amazing it could be.
Mal trained Relena to instinctively organize her projections, imaginary people that naturally populated the streets and rooms of dreams, into a defence force whenever a foreign entity entered her mind, and Heero to use the landscape of the dream to similar effect. His mind was devoid of said projections, but he did have an unprecedented awareness of the difference between reality and artificial dreams; dreams which could be made to be so realistic others wouldn’t have been able to tell the two apart. Their mentor was intensely curious about these anomalies, but he eventually managed to convince her that he would have to kill her if he told her the likely reason. (Without using those actual words. Subtlety was still a little new to him, but he was starting to get the hang of it.)
Once properly protected and potential hijackings of the world government through the back door of Relena’s brain averted, Heero and Relena agreed that these artificial dreams were simply too much fun not to play around in. Teaching Relena’s now ironically violent subconscious crowds to back down again when ordered, even to disappear, was easier than any of their previous lessons had been, and everything else their guide to dreamland showed them was solely for the joy of it.
It was safe to say the dreams had them hooked. They had all the advantages of feeling real, but none of the drawbacks of being real. They built worlds just for the two of them, where hours went by in the span of minutes. In dreams, they were mad scientists and fearless explorers, they painted continents in a blink and recorded histories with a sigh, they rewrote the laws of nature on whim and dare. They were children again, their imagination unfurling further and further the longer it was allowed to roam in this realm of pure creation - they were gods. As Relena put it: after a week of non-stop wrestling with the combined forces of the entire Earth Sphere, there was no better stress relief than bending some worlds to her will with a snap of her fingers on the weekends.
Because of the high level of lucidity, the potential intimacy of a shared dream was hard to fathom even while they were in one. Sometimes, though, whatever boundaries there were between their separate minds seemed to dissolve entirely, leaving them stunned and slow in their ethereal playground as the very foundations of their minds rearranged themselves to accommodate the other’s presence. This was another rare occurrence - contrary to some of the more hysterical rumours, emotions and memories sprung from a deeper subconscious level than the technology was able to freely access and ordinarily only manifested themselves in the form of symbols - but thankfully it was not so unique that it made Mal want to stick all kinds of medical research equipment in and around Relena’s head. That would have forced them to take security measures.
It took a while for them to even think about the sexual possibilities again; the thrill of walking around in each other’s heads tended to make them horny afterwards, but they were much too busy for that during.
“Dream a parliament building,” Relena instructed Heero one day. The glint in her eye told him everything he needed to know.
The dream device in Mal Cobb’s office made their eyelids droop...
...and when they opened them again they were standing in front of a parliament building that could’ve been any parliament building, sun shining down on them and wind gently playing through their hair. Everything looked normal and would function just like in the waking world unless they willed differently. Pushing back a strand of her loose hair, Relena grinned in that way only Heero ever got to see, took his hand and lead him inside.
Relena, as the guest in the landscape of Heero’s dream, had brought along the appropriate amount of politicians to mill about in the hallways. As per usual, they paid them little heed; as long as Relena kept half a mind on reminding them - the reflections of her subconscious self - that everything was as it should be, Heero could drop a flash bomb without drawing their attention.
They entered a conference room and were greeted with a nod here and there, then to be promptly ignored again. The imaginary men and women at the imaginary table focussed on nothing but their own half-intelligible conversations as the dreamers moved to the end of the conference table, as Relena sat on the edge of it instead of the chair that had been left empty for her, even as she drew Heero to her by the lapels of his imaginary bodyguard’s jacket.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked with a smirk.
He did, and smirked back. “In front of them?”
“Personally,” Relena said as she wrapped one leg around the back of his thighs to draw him even closer. “I think we’re ready to start realising some of our naughty fantasies.”
Heero raised an eyebrow, threw a glance around the room, and slid his hands around her waist. “You’re a closet exhibitionist?”
“The jury is still out on that one. Let’s just say that when I have to listen to old men bicker over grazing lands for hours at a time, I sometimes have to take drastic measures to keep from going crazy.”
“I hope you know how lucky you are to be a woman in times like that.”
He swallowed her laugh in a kiss, which she returned with fervour. Their respective belts were the first to go, followed by Heero’s jacket, but distraction set in before they could get to too many buttons. Both legs now wrapped around his rear, Relena pulled Heero down against her as she leaned back on the table. A stack of papers toppled and slid out from underneath her ear, a smaller one scattering, already becoming wrinkly, as her hips began to grind into his. She wasn’t looking at him anymore; her eyes went from diplomat to diplomat, a grin on her lips. Heero kissed it off, but not before shooting a narrow-eyed glance along the length of the table himself.
The projections surrounding them didn’t even look their way.
They kissed again and again, hips gyrating. Heero grew steadily hard, so he unbuttoned her suit jacket and hiked up her blouse to palm her breast, knowing that with all those layers, the friction wasn’t doing half as much for her as it was for him. An appreciative moan later, Relena was back to undoing his buttons around his busy arm. Heero, less firmly imprinted with decorum, did away with the ones on her puce blouse with a quick, upward jerk of his arm that evoked a squeal and a delighted laugh.
He had to admit: the scene was incredibly erotic. The eager, exhilarated grin on Relena’s face, her hips moving deliberately between him and the table, both of their clothes falling away piece by piece, the dip and swell of her skin beneath his hands, all while their activity created a growing and thoroughly ignored circle of chaos in the administrative bustle of the meeting.
“I’m having trouble thinking of anything that could top this,” he confessed, not bothering to hold back his own delighted huff of laughter. His creative block when it came to sex was something they hadn’t thought to tackle yet, but if dreaming had taught him one thing, it was that feeling pleasantly unhinged wasn’t all bad.
“I have no doubt that you will manage just fine when the moment comes,” Relena replied. Taking a leaf from his book, she ignored the last three buttons of his shirt and none too gently pulled it over his head. “But right now I’m guessing you’re a little distracted, and I want you to focus.”
With a quick twist of her body, she turned and sent his shirt flying. It landed across the shoulder of a projection halfway down the table. He took it with a puzzled expression, shot them a glance, and responded to the little finger waggle Relena sent his way by leaning across the table and holding it out to the woman across from him as if it was just any ordinary product sample.
It gave them an almost absurd thrill. They quickly got rid of Relena’s grey suit jacket and her ruined blouse, handing them out to the two projections on either side of them, but on second thought, Heero decided to deposit her pristine white scarf on the neglected chair behind him. A makeshift blindfold had never gone amiss before. Then Relena unhooked her bra and threw it blindly over her shoulder, and they were back to heated mouths pressing and hands wandering everywhere.
Sex in a dream, they were rapidly realising, really wasn’t much different, physically, from real sex. Not surprisingly, since they had been cautioned against trying to mess with the functioning of their bodies; a person’s conscious efforts and subconscious knowledge of what any given change should accomplish were often at odds, more often than not resulting in unpleasant results, if not downright gruesome ones. So when the mass of paper all around and underneath Relena started to melt and shift into something resembling a futon, Heero wasn’t all that surprised; she’d never been comfortable on unyielding surfaces.
“Long live dreams,” he mumbled, momentarily tearing his mouth away from the delectable arch of her throat.
“Long live dreams,” she echoed breathlessly. “Do you want to drag this out, or do we move on?”
“Can you keep them under control when things get heavy?” he asked belated.
She grinned. “We’ll see, won’t we?”
He took that as a challenge.
When the rest of their clothes were finally gone, he sank two fingers into her while she propped herself up on one elbow and firmly grasped his member. She was even more warm and soft and yielding inside, and even if they grew to be a hundred together, he didn’t think he would ever tire of the pleasure on her face and in her throat as he dragged rhythmic pressure over her clit and what they tentatively called her g-spot. It was mesmerizing, and once he pushed her hand from him and got her to lay back to just enjoy it without distracting from her pleasure to focus on his, he didn’t give a damn anymore about the other people in the room.
But she, obviously, still did; even half-lidded and fluttering with desire, her eyes strayed to the men and women her subconscious had conjured up. He understood why - he understood the fantasy they were acting out, how perfect the mixture of vulnerability and control must be for her - but he couldn’t help a vicious stab of possessiveness that bordered on panic.
“Relena?”
She looked at him, and the smile she gave him, the one she never gave anyone but him, almost made his doubts disappear.
“Would this still work for you if you were blindfolded? If you knew that they could see you the moment you let them, but you can’t see that moment arrive?”
Predictably, she saw right through him. “Too fast?”
“No, no. Forget I said anything.”
The downside of feeling pleasantly unhinged while you dreamt was that it was still a little unhinged.
Pulling out of her, he trailed headily scented fingers over her lips. “I want you to have this. I’ll get my turn, but right now it’s yours.”
But she shook her head, and in a sudden act of old-fashioned dream logic, the scarf was in her hand.
“It’s okay. I think it might be even better blindfolded,” she said, and her naughty smile said she genuinely meant it. “You’re right about that. And I’m sure the feeling would be mutual.”
It would, on more than one level. If there was one thing that would always make Heero come back asking for more, it was the feeling of absolute faith and trust she put in him by letting him deprive her of one or more of her senses.
So they tied the scarf over her eyes, and she pulled him to her, moving in for a kiss he had to guide her into. He pushed his fingers in again one more time to spread her slickness everywhere it hadn’t already gotten, and then, with one hand on her hip and the other on her breast and his mouth pressing against her neck and her hands in his hair and her legs urging him in, he aligned their hips and entered her. Her face was buried in his hair, her little gasps and small sounds of pleasure, satisfaction and need sounding directly in his ear, and every so often she would ask what was going on. He would answer as he moved in and out of her, not quite able to match his thumb against her clit with his strokes but knowing it didn’t really matter.
They were soon panting in tandem, their rhythm perfect. Heero wrapped his arms around Relena’s back and drew her up against his chest, balancing her hips on the edge of the futon-covered table, the renewed energy of the fresh angle letting him speed up and put more force behind his thrusts, and they clung back and were clung to. When Relena said she was getting close, Heero was too, and they approached orgasm with a timing so perfect it almost had to be caused by the flexibility of the dream, and Relena sucked in a breath that could have been her last while senseless words spilled from Heero’s lips, and -
- and they woke up.
Heero’s brain shut down when he realised he was ejaculating nonetheless.
“Funny thing about dreams,” Mal said, voice mild and pleasant as they blinked away the last remains of the dream. “Pain is in the mind, but pleasure, passion - they refuse to stay under.”
- 1
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Your Id Is Watching You