Categories > Movies > Matrix
Edit
0 ReviewsTriNeo. A little role play, and Neo testing out his new skills. Rating for smut and bad suits.
Warnings: A little bit of smut, nothing too descriptive (just sticky). I think there might be a little OOCness, too - seems like they smile way too much.
Disclaimer: All characters and situations belong to the Wachowskis. I'm simply a lowly fan writer, making no money.
A/N: Boy, this was a tough one to get out. As many of you know, this is the fifth in my alphabet challenge series; a series of one-shots based around words starting with each letter of the alphabet. They're supposed to have around 1000 words, but I figured it's my challenge, so I can make 'em as long as I want to.
Got the idea for this after receiving a review from Zinck on the previous one, so... thanks, Zinck! I'd previously started on 'Excellence' and 'Experienced', but they just didn't work. So, in honor of the geekiness of our OTP, I give you: E for Edit.
--
I sense it before I see it. The slightest change in the code. I don't know why it's happening; nobody should be changing the sim while I'm training. Except me, of course, because I'm still testing my mental capabilities along with my physical ones.
"Hey," I call up to the ceiling of the dojo I'm training in. The walls start to flicker out of focus around me, "what's going on?"
No answer.
The codes start to dribble, the walls changing from straight, lacquered wood to plastic-covered chipboard. The roof trickles away and reforms itself closer to my head, fluorescent lights at even intervals in the panels. Small walls rise up from the floor in odd patterns, like a maze. When they finally stop, they're only about shoulder high. Cubicles.
"What the hell?" I mutter. My clothes start to move. The wide, pale sleeves of my gi tighten and turn into a dark, coarse fabric that looks horribly familiar. The neckline rearranges itself to form a stiff collar and unevenly knotted tie.
Okay.
It's weird, but at least I know who's screwing with me.
"Trinity?"
When her voice finally comes over the program's audio, it's tinny and disjointed.
"Yeah, you got-" the audio cuts out for a moment, descending into static "-got me."
"What're you doing?" I ask it with a long-suffering sigh in my voice, slightly overdone. She uses this tone on me enough; I can't resist a little patronizing payback.
"Rem-" More static.
"What?"
"Reminiscing." Her voice is much closer now, much clearer. Right behind me. I turn. She's standing there in her usual outfit - sans glasses - leaning casually against a cubical wall. She gives me a secretive little smile, which I warily return.
"C'mon, what's going on?"
She walks towards me slowly, cups my face in one palm and examines me like a work of art. I smile a little wider and reach out to spread my hands over her delicate hips. We stare at each other for a minute.
"I wanted this," she tells me dreamily, breaking the silence.
"What?" I breathe softly.
Ever since we first became... since we've been together, I've been looking for ways to satisfy her, to... give back something, for all she's done for me. It's been remarkably difficult. I started off by giving her presents - a necklace, a dress I found in the Zion market. She liked them, but after a while she sat me down and explained that she didn't need that stuff. I didn't need to that for her. She loves me.
But still... I want to do something, something worthwhile, that she'll enjoy. That glazed, longing look in her eyes tells me that there might be something like that. Here. Now.
"What?" I ask again, a little louder this time. She breaks the gaze, looking down at the floor. It's almost like she comes back to herself for a second; she looks confused, alert. And then her face softens again, and she looks back at me.
"When you were working here..." I look around, and realize that, yes - this is an exact recreation of my old office. And that was my cubical she was leaning against. Jesus, it must have taken a while to encode this. I can still spot a few holes in the encryption, if I concentrate.
"...I was supposed to get you out - I was supposed to come for you when you were at work. But we didn't get to you in time. It was my fault; I was supposed to be monitoring you that day. I got distracted. Got careless, and by the time I noticed them, it was too late."
She moves closer to me, pressing her body against mine, sliding her hand around to the back of my neck, and whispering in my ear; just as she did the first time we met. This must be a nostalgic sort of day. This time, though, she's pressed against me tighter, and I finally have the guts to pull her against me and touch my lips to her cheek.
"I wanted to be the one to get you out. I wanted you to ride on the back of my bike as we went to the Lafayette, I wanted you to hold on to me," I cling to her a little more tightly, "I wanted..."
She pulls back a bit and looks up at me. Blinking, I wait for her to go on, but she can't seem to find the words. Finally, I speak. "You wanted to save me."
She nods mutely.
"I know the feeling," I reply, before I quite realize what I'm saying. She glances up at me, the glimmer of an amused smile in her eyes. I look away, grinning in embarrassment, and she laughs as well, resting her forehead against my shoulder.
"/Anyway,/" she continues pointedly, still hiding her face, "will you let me?"
Her voice sounds small, timid. It doesn't sound like her. I gently grab her face and look at her. She holds my gaze patiently, hopefully, waiting for an answer.
"Yes," I tell her softly, and kiss her. When I break away, she smiles brightly and grabs my hand.
"C'mon."
We run around the maze of cubical walls towards the elevator. Her palm is sweaty, slippery. I hold on tight as she leads me. As we approach the elevator, a process in the program triggers, causing the doors to open when we reach them. She drags me inside, and I run into her back when she stops. I throw my arms out to steady myself against the back wall of the elevator, effectively trapping her between them, me, and the wall.
She turns around and grins at me. I'm still breathless, and it doesn't help when she slides a leg oh-so-subtly between mine, and grabs my tie, wrapping it around her palm. She pulls me closer, our lips almost touching.
"Do you treat all the potentials this way?" I murmur jokingly. Her smile gets more mischievous.
"Only the old ones. Figure they don't have much time left; might as well let them enjoy it."
I grin and narrow my eyes at her for a split second before kissing her roughly, sliding my hands down to pin her wrists to the wall. While she kisses me back, she twists her hands so that the grip is reversed, and she's holding onto my wrists. She breaks away, and when she speaks, I'm pleased to note that now she's breathless as well.
"Don't try that shit here, coppertop."
Before I can respond, the elevator announces that it's reached its destination with a melodic tone, and she's skillfully maneuvering me again, dragging me by my right wrist through the lobby. A blank-faced security guard notices our passing with an impassive nod. So she didn't program this place without other people in it. Interesting. Maybe she wanted to get a little target practice in.
But she ignores the guard, and slams open the door. When we exit out onto the street her Ducati is waiting for her. She finally lets go of me to grasp the handlebars and swing her leg over the bike. I pause for a moment, admiring the curve of her back and ass in the tight leather, matching the seat of the bike. She turns to look at me over her shoulder, giving me a sly smile when she notices where my attention is directed.
I grin back at her and I sit down behind her. One hand slides around her stomach, and - after a moment's contemplation - I spread my other hand over her thigh, my fingertips resting between her legs. It's not really sexual, but she stiffens suddenly, and then consciously relaxes, ignoring it, pretending not to notice. I lower my chin to rest on her shoulder and grin into her neck.
The bike takes off with a squealing of rubber. This is not going to be an easy ride. We go straight for about a minute - we must be doing eighty or ninety already - and then we reach a corner. Trin slows down just enough to take it, and we swerve, the bike leaning to a thirty degree angle from the ground. Even though I know it's all fake, all coded, all perfectly easy to override - I can fly for Christ's sake, I can certainly handle a crash - my natural reactions get the better of me and I swear under my breath.
I see a flash of her smile in the side mirror of the bike, and I hold her tighter, sliding my hand a little further up her leg. The smile is replaced with a look of determination, and she drives faster. She pulls the same trick again around the next corner, not bothering to slow down at all this time, and the tires skid against the tarmac for one sickening moment before we straighten up. My hand slides down further between her thighs and I feel her take in a sharp breath. I consider stopping for a second - but this is too damn fun. I slide my other hand up, over her stomach, resting on her chest. My thumb and forefinger match the curve of her breast.
She slams on the brakes. At first we skid, not losing speed, and then, gradually, we roll to a halt, right outside the entrance to the Hotel Lafayette - or at least, the construct recreation of it. A lock of thickly gelled hair has fallen into her face; she casually blows it away. I'm still holding onto her intimately. She pointedly shifts away from me, and finally, I let her go.
Without looking at me, she walks into the building. I follow her awkwardly, the suit taking me back to my days of clumsiness and social ineptitude. Not that I've really grown out of that - but at least these days, in the Matrix, I can be cool. Except, of course, when Trinity's around. That grace, that beauty - that can make anyone feel awkward and stupid.
We walk up the spiraling staircase, and I have to wonder what she's planning to do when all this is over, when we walk through that door. I find it hard to believe that Morpheus is in on this as well, waiting for me with pills ready in hand.
Apart from anything else, I want this to be over so I can get Trinity alone - that 'shit' in the elevator and on the ride here has left me a little... preoccupied. Now I'm watching her walk a few steps above and in front of me; my eye level is just right to check out her ass...ets. I'm pretty sure she knows it, too; I'll swear she's putting a little extra sway in her hips for my benefit. I wonder if she knows that I did the same thing the first time we were here. I figure not - she would have kicked my ass, potential or not.
We arrive outside the doors that I remember from the last time around. When I focus on the coding, I see that there's nothing behind them. Just blank construct, and another trigger command, this one instructing the program to automatically jack us out. This is what she had prepared? Her big finish?
Fuck that.
"This is it." She tells me. Déjà vu.
"You coming with me this time?" I ask. I must sound too curious, because she looks at me sharply, and then shrugs.
"Sure."
I open the door and walk through the doorway, then turn to look at her as I stand in the middle of the room. She steps inside as well, glances around, and then stares at me with a less-than-impressed look on her face. I give her a shameless grin.
What I've coded, more or less, is a bedroom. A big double bed with a silk canopy in the center of the room, black and dusky pink sheets matching the colors of the Lafayette. It's cleaner in here, though, with less of the rot and dust that's infected the rest of the hotel.
Trinity's still glaring at me.
"You bring all your coppertops here?" I'm perfectly innocent.
She smiles embarrassedly, rolling her eyes. "God," she mutters.
I step closer to her, sliding my hand down her arm and tangling our fingers together. She stares at the ground. The smile's still on her lips and there's a gentle blush in her cheeks. She is so beautiful.
"Trinity," I try to speak as softly as I can, knowing that I'm going into a delicate area, "when you were watching me... when did you know?"
I don't know how to put it any better. But she understands.
"I didn't." She replies simply. "I never knew, for certain. Just..." she smiles again at a passing memory, "you were so different to anyone else I'd- I'd considered. They were all young and crazy and rebellious, and..."
"Hey, I can be rebellious," I remind her, grinning.
She looks at me thoughtfully for a moment, then nods. "Yes, you can. But back then, you were just this... this guy in a bad suit."
"Is the suit a turn on?" I ask, stepping away from her and gesturing down at it, "'cause, I'll keep wearing it if you-"
"Shut up." She commands, and pulls me in for a kiss. Her lips are damp, sticking to mine magnetically. The whole thing is magnetic, really. We pull away, we push back.
It's insane, kissing like this. I can see her code. I can taste her tongue. My senses are caught between feeling something that I desperately want to be real, and knowing full well that it isn't. It's like cybering, but oh-so-much better. Trinity combs her fingers through my hair, tugging on my scalp. I press up against her harder.
"Feel like fucking an un-rebellious geek in a bad suit?" I mutter, breaking away for a second.
She pulls further away from me, licking her lips. "I don't want to... I don't want to do that in here."
I pick up on the subtle emphasis as she speaks. "But you wouldn't say no to... something else." A probing statement.
She stares at me for a second, contemplating, her lip caught between her teeth. "I..."
Licking my lips, I step closer to her, putting my hand on her waist and sliding it down, over her stomach, stopping on her thigh. "Maybe I could... mm." Pausing, I wait for her to respond. I'm pretty certain that she's not going to go for it.
But she has a way of surprising me. "Okay."
I blink, and step back from her again. "Really?"
She shrugs, a smile playing over her lips.
"Won't they see?" I do Â/not/ want Link and Morpheus looking in on us. I learnt to be careful about digital voyeurs the first time Trin and I kissed in the construct. Being interrupted by a wolf-whistle from your operator really kills the mood.
She raises an eyebrow. "You weren't too worried on the bike."
"I was..." My hands travel up the sleek curves of her hips, her breasts, over her shoulders, stopping on the back of her neck. "I was distracted."
"Happens a /lot./" She comments dryly.
I smile, but get the conversation back on topic. "But... they're not going to see us?"
"I asked them to give us a few minutes. Said I wanted to talk to you." She lets out an embarrassed chuckle. "I figured I wouldn't want them to know that my particular kink includes dressing you up like a coppertop and pretending to unplug you."
I laugh softly and lower my lips to hers again. She stays still, frozen with uncertainty. We've never done anything like this before, in here. A few kisses was all it amounted to - what we're about to do is far more intimate. I run my lips down her throat, stopping at the collar of her top. One of my hands moves down to her hip, and I pull her harder against me as I go back to kissing her mouth. She gasps deeply. I can already see streams of pleasure coding shooting up and down her RSI.
And a very, very bad thought strikes me. I can't help but smile against her lips. She notices, and pulls away.
"What?" She asks.
I keep smiling innocently at her for a second before replying, "I love you."
She raises an eyebrow skeptically. Don't try that shit here, coppertop. Her words from earlier echo in my head as she shoots that look at me.
I grab her hand and pull her over to the bed. She stares at it for a second before looking back at me uncertainly. The coding for the bed's pretty crude, the best I could come up with at a moment's notice. Trinity probably can't see anything wrong with it - I only see the little flaws because I know that they're there. Like the fact that there are no threads in the sheets, or nails in the wood.
Sitting on the mass of clunky coding, I offer my hand to her again. "C'mon."
She takes a deep breath and moves towards me, ignoring my hand. She sits on me, straddling my legs. I'm a little taken aback. Raising an eyebrow, I look up at her curiously. Her expression is a victorious smirk.
"We're going to do this? Might as well do it right."
Our lips collide roughly, and two groans rise in unison. With my tongue in her mouth, I let my mind wander to her coding, getting to work.
Hormones. Nerves. Cerebellum. Cortex. All mapped out in glyphs, ready for editing. If it was anyone else, editing a user's RSI from the core, they'd be kicked off their crew permanently. Screwing with someone's RSI is as bad as giving them a home lobotomy, if you don't know what you're doing. The person you plug in might not be the person you jack out.
I, on the other hand, do know what I'm doing. The Zionites - the ones who don't like me, who don't believe in the prophecy - are right. I do get special privileges that other soldiers don't. This is one of them. Morpheus is only too happy to turn a blind eye to stuff like this. If he thinks that I know what I'm doing, he doesn't care if it goes directly against the rules of the fleet.
Not that he's ever going to know what I'm about to do. And I know enough not to screw with Trinity's mental or emotional codes. I'm purely focused on the physical, the sexual.
She pushes me back on the bed. One of her hands is twisted in my hair. The other is holding the tie - which I almost forgot I'm wearing - in the way people at those shitty S and M bars hold the leashes of their subs. Her hair falls down into my face. She's unbelievable, she really is, but I need to concentrate. I cup her jaw in both hands and push her back.
"Wait."
She's gone back to looking uncertain - that's not what I want. To reassure her, I smile quickly and adjust her pituitary gland to release a flood of endorphins into her brain. She smiles back at me widely.
Taking advantage of her momentary relaxation, I manage to get myself out from underneath her and move us around, so that she's lying against the mound of pillows at the head of the bed. Wrapping my arms around her, I spoon her from behind, so that her back is against my chest.
"Trinity?" I murmur hesitantly in her ear.
"Hm?" She's still smiling contentedly from the endorphin rush.
I realize that whatever I do to her, it's going to affect her emotionally. Physicality and sexuality is linked to mentality, however I try to justify it to myself. And I have to make sure...
"Do you trust me?"
"Of course I do, Neo." Her voice sounds too dreamy, too light, for me to believe she still isn't being affected by the natural chemicals in her system, but somehow... it sounds genuine. Genuine enough for me, anyway.
"Okay," I breathe against her hair, and concentrate. First things first; her outfit needs to be out of the way. I strip away the glyphs of her top line by line; the material just sort of disintegrates. After doing the same to her pants and underwear, she lies naked against me. I slide my hand down her front and between her legs, and smile at the slick moisture there already. Air hisses through her teeth as I touch the small cluster of nerves, and she rolls her head back.
"Don't be scared," I reassure her. Even if she is the most fearless member of the resistance, I'm sure she'll need it before what I'm about to try.
Gently, I start to spark off some nerves inside her. She gasps, and then goes silent. When I open my eyes - which I hadn't even realize I'd closed - and glance down at her face, she's biting her lip viciously, her eyes open and glassy. I set off the nerves again, a little bit stronger. Her reaction is much more obvious this time; she jerks forward uncontrollably, and her face twists up in what I read in her code as pleasure. A deep, guttural groan comes from her throat as she relaxes again.
"Okay?" I ask. I'm still not sure that she'll appreciate what I'm doing. And I find that I'm getting more and more distracted, as I start to get hard beneath the trousers of the dumb suit.
She nods mutely. I do it again, while pressing my fingers into her flesh.
"Ah!" She cries out and her back arches against me as I simultaneously fire off a couple of neurons in her cerebellum. "Oh my god," she mutters when she gets her breath back, "You are /not /this good in the real world."
I feel mildly irritated that she's pointed out my inability to get her writhing like this - with just my fingers - back in Zion, but she does have a point. But if I can make her feel this good - and watch her feeling this good - what's the point of talking about the reality of the situation?
It's stupid. It goes against every ideal the resistance fights for. Freedom and truth, that's what we're all about, but-here, now, we're enjoying ourselves. That's freedom. The freedom to know what we're doing, to make the choice to do it. We're allowed to play around in the construct, we're allowed to flirt and touch and kiss with our digital selves. We've earned it.
Her aversion to actually making love in here is understandable, though. Some things are sacred.
We don't talk much for a couple of minutes. The close, sticky air in the room is only disturbed by Trinity's regular moans and my deep, shuddered breath. I slowly up the frequency of the shocks I'm sending through her coding, and watch as little shimmering glyphs of pleasure dance up and down her spine. She's still convulsing against me, her bare ass rubbing against my crotch, and it's all I can do not to push towards her as well. Damn it, being so turned on by Trin's RSI was not part of the plan.
Her cries start getting higher, more strained, and the glyphs start shining brighter and moving faster. I realize they're all coalescing towards my hand, between her legs. The cries turn to desperate sobs, and she spasms and shudders against me with a miniature explosion of glyphs and light. I groan in answer as I realize, disconnectedly, that I've created an explosion of my own in response, a few inches away from hers. Trying to ignore the sticky feeling for a few moments, I watch as her code slowly returns to the normal streams of green.
I shift a little, and she looks up at me. She blinks. Her eyes are wide and dazed. A tear slides down her cheek.
"Trin?"
Turning away from me, she closes her eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath. "I'm fine."
I nod, and trace patterns on the skin of her stomach before speaking again. "Do you want to get out of here?" I ask, well aware that we must be pushing our time limit.
She takes a little longer than necessary to reply. "...Yeah. I guess so."
Smiling, I make a decision. I decode and recode the blankets so that they're on top of us, instead of beneath us. I decode my clothes, too - don't know why I didn't do it earlier, it's much better without barriers between her skin and mine - and relax with her under the covers. She's still shaking. The muscles in her legs twitch a little.
We take a few minutes. My hands run over Trinity's body - soothingly this time - stroking her, relaxing her, checking that her codes are okay, that I didn't do any damage in my momentary stupor. She seems fine.
After a while, she sighs and shifts away from me. "Okay." She nods.
I nod as well, shutting my eyes and concentrating. Okay... there's a string in the codes for the construct - just twist this glyph here into a number over /there-/got it.
I open my eyes and Trinity's gone, the faintest shimmer of electrical distortion in the air where she was. It's far easier getting myself out; I don't even really have to think about it. Before I know it, I'm breathing the stale air of the ship.
"Jesus, Neo." Trinity's face blocks out the light above me, as she leans over and jacks me out.
"What?" I nearly smile when I see that she's still got a noticeable blush in her cheeks - and then I realize what she's talking about. "Shit."
"Yeah, and washing's not for another two days. You'd better go rinse it off."
I really hadn't thought that this was going to happen in the real world. Wet dreams, I tell myself. Just because they're not real doesn't mean they won't make you /cream your jeans/. I haven't had to deal with this since I was thirteen.
I stand up, brush a kiss against Trinity's cheek and head towards the ladder, praying I don't run into Morpheus or Link on my way to our cabin. Just as I swing myself onto the rungs, Trinity calls out to me.
"Neo-" I pause. She looks beautiful, half silhouetted by the fluorescent lights, her skin lit from within by the afterglow. "Thank you." She smiles at me gratefully.
I return the smile with a grin. I don't know what to say. It was something she needed, yes, but... goddamn, it was fun for me as well. I'd forgotten how much I like changing, hacking... editing.
--
Feedback is loved. :)
Disclaimer: All characters and situations belong to the Wachowskis. I'm simply a lowly fan writer, making no money.
A/N: Boy, this was a tough one to get out. As many of you know, this is the fifth in my alphabet challenge series; a series of one-shots based around words starting with each letter of the alphabet. They're supposed to have around 1000 words, but I figured it's my challenge, so I can make 'em as long as I want to.
Got the idea for this after receiving a review from Zinck on the previous one, so... thanks, Zinck! I'd previously started on 'Excellence' and 'Experienced', but they just didn't work. So, in honor of the geekiness of our OTP, I give you: E for Edit.
--
I sense it before I see it. The slightest change in the code. I don't know why it's happening; nobody should be changing the sim while I'm training. Except me, of course, because I'm still testing my mental capabilities along with my physical ones.
"Hey," I call up to the ceiling of the dojo I'm training in. The walls start to flicker out of focus around me, "what's going on?"
No answer.
The codes start to dribble, the walls changing from straight, lacquered wood to plastic-covered chipboard. The roof trickles away and reforms itself closer to my head, fluorescent lights at even intervals in the panels. Small walls rise up from the floor in odd patterns, like a maze. When they finally stop, they're only about shoulder high. Cubicles.
"What the hell?" I mutter. My clothes start to move. The wide, pale sleeves of my gi tighten and turn into a dark, coarse fabric that looks horribly familiar. The neckline rearranges itself to form a stiff collar and unevenly knotted tie.
Okay.
It's weird, but at least I know who's screwing with me.
"Trinity?"
When her voice finally comes over the program's audio, it's tinny and disjointed.
"Yeah, you got-" the audio cuts out for a moment, descending into static "-got me."
"What're you doing?" I ask it with a long-suffering sigh in my voice, slightly overdone. She uses this tone on me enough; I can't resist a little patronizing payback.
"Rem-" More static.
"What?"
"Reminiscing." Her voice is much closer now, much clearer. Right behind me. I turn. She's standing there in her usual outfit - sans glasses - leaning casually against a cubical wall. She gives me a secretive little smile, which I warily return.
"C'mon, what's going on?"
She walks towards me slowly, cups my face in one palm and examines me like a work of art. I smile a little wider and reach out to spread my hands over her delicate hips. We stare at each other for a minute.
"I wanted this," she tells me dreamily, breaking the silence.
"What?" I breathe softly.
Ever since we first became... since we've been together, I've been looking for ways to satisfy her, to... give back something, for all she's done for me. It's been remarkably difficult. I started off by giving her presents - a necklace, a dress I found in the Zion market. She liked them, but after a while she sat me down and explained that she didn't need that stuff. I didn't need to that for her. She loves me.
But still... I want to do something, something worthwhile, that she'll enjoy. That glazed, longing look in her eyes tells me that there might be something like that. Here. Now.
"What?" I ask again, a little louder this time. She breaks the gaze, looking down at the floor. It's almost like she comes back to herself for a second; she looks confused, alert. And then her face softens again, and she looks back at me.
"When you were working here..." I look around, and realize that, yes - this is an exact recreation of my old office. And that was my cubical she was leaning against. Jesus, it must have taken a while to encode this. I can still spot a few holes in the encryption, if I concentrate.
"...I was supposed to get you out - I was supposed to come for you when you were at work. But we didn't get to you in time. It was my fault; I was supposed to be monitoring you that day. I got distracted. Got careless, and by the time I noticed them, it was too late."
She moves closer to me, pressing her body against mine, sliding her hand around to the back of my neck, and whispering in my ear; just as she did the first time we met. This must be a nostalgic sort of day. This time, though, she's pressed against me tighter, and I finally have the guts to pull her against me and touch my lips to her cheek.
"I wanted to be the one to get you out. I wanted you to ride on the back of my bike as we went to the Lafayette, I wanted you to hold on to me," I cling to her a little more tightly, "I wanted..."
She pulls back a bit and looks up at me. Blinking, I wait for her to go on, but she can't seem to find the words. Finally, I speak. "You wanted to save me."
She nods mutely.
"I know the feeling," I reply, before I quite realize what I'm saying. She glances up at me, the glimmer of an amused smile in her eyes. I look away, grinning in embarrassment, and she laughs as well, resting her forehead against my shoulder.
"/Anyway,/" she continues pointedly, still hiding her face, "will you let me?"
Her voice sounds small, timid. It doesn't sound like her. I gently grab her face and look at her. She holds my gaze patiently, hopefully, waiting for an answer.
"Yes," I tell her softly, and kiss her. When I break away, she smiles brightly and grabs my hand.
"C'mon."
We run around the maze of cubical walls towards the elevator. Her palm is sweaty, slippery. I hold on tight as she leads me. As we approach the elevator, a process in the program triggers, causing the doors to open when we reach them. She drags me inside, and I run into her back when she stops. I throw my arms out to steady myself against the back wall of the elevator, effectively trapping her between them, me, and the wall.
She turns around and grins at me. I'm still breathless, and it doesn't help when she slides a leg oh-so-subtly between mine, and grabs my tie, wrapping it around her palm. She pulls me closer, our lips almost touching.
"Do you treat all the potentials this way?" I murmur jokingly. Her smile gets more mischievous.
"Only the old ones. Figure they don't have much time left; might as well let them enjoy it."
I grin and narrow my eyes at her for a split second before kissing her roughly, sliding my hands down to pin her wrists to the wall. While she kisses me back, she twists her hands so that the grip is reversed, and she's holding onto my wrists. She breaks away, and when she speaks, I'm pleased to note that now she's breathless as well.
"Don't try that shit here, coppertop."
Before I can respond, the elevator announces that it's reached its destination with a melodic tone, and she's skillfully maneuvering me again, dragging me by my right wrist through the lobby. A blank-faced security guard notices our passing with an impassive nod. So she didn't program this place without other people in it. Interesting. Maybe she wanted to get a little target practice in.
But she ignores the guard, and slams open the door. When we exit out onto the street her Ducati is waiting for her. She finally lets go of me to grasp the handlebars and swing her leg over the bike. I pause for a moment, admiring the curve of her back and ass in the tight leather, matching the seat of the bike. She turns to look at me over her shoulder, giving me a sly smile when she notices where my attention is directed.
I grin back at her and I sit down behind her. One hand slides around her stomach, and - after a moment's contemplation - I spread my other hand over her thigh, my fingertips resting between her legs. It's not really sexual, but she stiffens suddenly, and then consciously relaxes, ignoring it, pretending not to notice. I lower my chin to rest on her shoulder and grin into her neck.
The bike takes off with a squealing of rubber. This is not going to be an easy ride. We go straight for about a minute - we must be doing eighty or ninety already - and then we reach a corner. Trin slows down just enough to take it, and we swerve, the bike leaning to a thirty degree angle from the ground. Even though I know it's all fake, all coded, all perfectly easy to override - I can fly for Christ's sake, I can certainly handle a crash - my natural reactions get the better of me and I swear under my breath.
I see a flash of her smile in the side mirror of the bike, and I hold her tighter, sliding my hand a little further up her leg. The smile is replaced with a look of determination, and she drives faster. She pulls the same trick again around the next corner, not bothering to slow down at all this time, and the tires skid against the tarmac for one sickening moment before we straighten up. My hand slides down further between her thighs and I feel her take in a sharp breath. I consider stopping for a second - but this is too damn fun. I slide my other hand up, over her stomach, resting on her chest. My thumb and forefinger match the curve of her breast.
She slams on the brakes. At first we skid, not losing speed, and then, gradually, we roll to a halt, right outside the entrance to the Hotel Lafayette - or at least, the construct recreation of it. A lock of thickly gelled hair has fallen into her face; she casually blows it away. I'm still holding onto her intimately. She pointedly shifts away from me, and finally, I let her go.
Without looking at me, she walks into the building. I follow her awkwardly, the suit taking me back to my days of clumsiness and social ineptitude. Not that I've really grown out of that - but at least these days, in the Matrix, I can be cool. Except, of course, when Trinity's around. That grace, that beauty - that can make anyone feel awkward and stupid.
We walk up the spiraling staircase, and I have to wonder what she's planning to do when all this is over, when we walk through that door. I find it hard to believe that Morpheus is in on this as well, waiting for me with pills ready in hand.
Apart from anything else, I want this to be over so I can get Trinity alone - that 'shit' in the elevator and on the ride here has left me a little... preoccupied. Now I'm watching her walk a few steps above and in front of me; my eye level is just right to check out her ass...ets. I'm pretty sure she knows it, too; I'll swear she's putting a little extra sway in her hips for my benefit. I wonder if she knows that I did the same thing the first time we were here. I figure not - she would have kicked my ass, potential or not.
We arrive outside the doors that I remember from the last time around. When I focus on the coding, I see that there's nothing behind them. Just blank construct, and another trigger command, this one instructing the program to automatically jack us out. This is what she had prepared? Her big finish?
Fuck that.
"This is it." She tells me. Déjà vu.
"You coming with me this time?" I ask. I must sound too curious, because she looks at me sharply, and then shrugs.
"Sure."
I open the door and walk through the doorway, then turn to look at her as I stand in the middle of the room. She steps inside as well, glances around, and then stares at me with a less-than-impressed look on her face. I give her a shameless grin.
What I've coded, more or less, is a bedroom. A big double bed with a silk canopy in the center of the room, black and dusky pink sheets matching the colors of the Lafayette. It's cleaner in here, though, with less of the rot and dust that's infected the rest of the hotel.
Trinity's still glaring at me.
"You bring all your coppertops here?" I'm perfectly innocent.
She smiles embarrassedly, rolling her eyes. "God," she mutters.
I step closer to her, sliding my hand down her arm and tangling our fingers together. She stares at the ground. The smile's still on her lips and there's a gentle blush in her cheeks. She is so beautiful.
"Trinity," I try to speak as softly as I can, knowing that I'm going into a delicate area, "when you were watching me... when did you know?"
I don't know how to put it any better. But she understands.
"I didn't." She replies simply. "I never knew, for certain. Just..." she smiles again at a passing memory, "you were so different to anyone else I'd- I'd considered. They were all young and crazy and rebellious, and..."
"Hey, I can be rebellious," I remind her, grinning.
She looks at me thoughtfully for a moment, then nods. "Yes, you can. But back then, you were just this... this guy in a bad suit."
"Is the suit a turn on?" I ask, stepping away from her and gesturing down at it, "'cause, I'll keep wearing it if you-"
"Shut up." She commands, and pulls me in for a kiss. Her lips are damp, sticking to mine magnetically. The whole thing is magnetic, really. We pull away, we push back.
It's insane, kissing like this. I can see her code. I can taste her tongue. My senses are caught between feeling something that I desperately want to be real, and knowing full well that it isn't. It's like cybering, but oh-so-much better. Trinity combs her fingers through my hair, tugging on my scalp. I press up against her harder.
"Feel like fucking an un-rebellious geek in a bad suit?" I mutter, breaking away for a second.
She pulls further away from me, licking her lips. "I don't want to... I don't want to do that in here."
I pick up on the subtle emphasis as she speaks. "But you wouldn't say no to... something else." A probing statement.
She stares at me for a second, contemplating, her lip caught between her teeth. "I..."
Licking my lips, I step closer to her, putting my hand on her waist and sliding it down, over her stomach, stopping on her thigh. "Maybe I could... mm." Pausing, I wait for her to respond. I'm pretty certain that she's not going to go for it.
But she has a way of surprising me. "Okay."
I blink, and step back from her again. "Really?"
She shrugs, a smile playing over her lips.
"Won't they see?" I do Â/not/ want Link and Morpheus looking in on us. I learnt to be careful about digital voyeurs the first time Trin and I kissed in the construct. Being interrupted by a wolf-whistle from your operator really kills the mood.
She raises an eyebrow. "You weren't too worried on the bike."
"I was..." My hands travel up the sleek curves of her hips, her breasts, over her shoulders, stopping on the back of her neck. "I was distracted."
"Happens a /lot./" She comments dryly.
I smile, but get the conversation back on topic. "But... they're not going to see us?"
"I asked them to give us a few minutes. Said I wanted to talk to you." She lets out an embarrassed chuckle. "I figured I wouldn't want them to know that my particular kink includes dressing you up like a coppertop and pretending to unplug you."
I laugh softly and lower my lips to hers again. She stays still, frozen with uncertainty. We've never done anything like this before, in here. A few kisses was all it amounted to - what we're about to do is far more intimate. I run my lips down her throat, stopping at the collar of her top. One of my hands moves down to her hip, and I pull her harder against me as I go back to kissing her mouth. She gasps deeply. I can already see streams of pleasure coding shooting up and down her RSI.
And a very, very bad thought strikes me. I can't help but smile against her lips. She notices, and pulls away.
"What?" She asks.
I keep smiling innocently at her for a second before replying, "I love you."
She raises an eyebrow skeptically. Don't try that shit here, coppertop. Her words from earlier echo in my head as she shoots that look at me.
I grab her hand and pull her over to the bed. She stares at it for a second before looking back at me uncertainly. The coding for the bed's pretty crude, the best I could come up with at a moment's notice. Trinity probably can't see anything wrong with it - I only see the little flaws because I know that they're there. Like the fact that there are no threads in the sheets, or nails in the wood.
Sitting on the mass of clunky coding, I offer my hand to her again. "C'mon."
She takes a deep breath and moves towards me, ignoring my hand. She sits on me, straddling my legs. I'm a little taken aback. Raising an eyebrow, I look up at her curiously. Her expression is a victorious smirk.
"We're going to do this? Might as well do it right."
Our lips collide roughly, and two groans rise in unison. With my tongue in her mouth, I let my mind wander to her coding, getting to work.
Hormones. Nerves. Cerebellum. Cortex. All mapped out in glyphs, ready for editing. If it was anyone else, editing a user's RSI from the core, they'd be kicked off their crew permanently. Screwing with someone's RSI is as bad as giving them a home lobotomy, if you don't know what you're doing. The person you plug in might not be the person you jack out.
I, on the other hand, do know what I'm doing. The Zionites - the ones who don't like me, who don't believe in the prophecy - are right. I do get special privileges that other soldiers don't. This is one of them. Morpheus is only too happy to turn a blind eye to stuff like this. If he thinks that I know what I'm doing, he doesn't care if it goes directly against the rules of the fleet.
Not that he's ever going to know what I'm about to do. And I know enough not to screw with Trinity's mental or emotional codes. I'm purely focused on the physical, the sexual.
She pushes me back on the bed. One of her hands is twisted in my hair. The other is holding the tie - which I almost forgot I'm wearing - in the way people at those shitty S and M bars hold the leashes of their subs. Her hair falls down into my face. She's unbelievable, she really is, but I need to concentrate. I cup her jaw in both hands and push her back.
"Wait."
She's gone back to looking uncertain - that's not what I want. To reassure her, I smile quickly and adjust her pituitary gland to release a flood of endorphins into her brain. She smiles back at me widely.
Taking advantage of her momentary relaxation, I manage to get myself out from underneath her and move us around, so that she's lying against the mound of pillows at the head of the bed. Wrapping my arms around her, I spoon her from behind, so that her back is against my chest.
"Trinity?" I murmur hesitantly in her ear.
"Hm?" She's still smiling contentedly from the endorphin rush.
I realize that whatever I do to her, it's going to affect her emotionally. Physicality and sexuality is linked to mentality, however I try to justify it to myself. And I have to make sure...
"Do you trust me?"
"Of course I do, Neo." Her voice sounds too dreamy, too light, for me to believe she still isn't being affected by the natural chemicals in her system, but somehow... it sounds genuine. Genuine enough for me, anyway.
"Okay," I breathe against her hair, and concentrate. First things first; her outfit needs to be out of the way. I strip away the glyphs of her top line by line; the material just sort of disintegrates. After doing the same to her pants and underwear, she lies naked against me. I slide my hand down her front and between her legs, and smile at the slick moisture there already. Air hisses through her teeth as I touch the small cluster of nerves, and she rolls her head back.
"Don't be scared," I reassure her. Even if she is the most fearless member of the resistance, I'm sure she'll need it before what I'm about to try.
Gently, I start to spark off some nerves inside her. She gasps, and then goes silent. When I open my eyes - which I hadn't even realize I'd closed - and glance down at her face, she's biting her lip viciously, her eyes open and glassy. I set off the nerves again, a little bit stronger. Her reaction is much more obvious this time; she jerks forward uncontrollably, and her face twists up in what I read in her code as pleasure. A deep, guttural groan comes from her throat as she relaxes again.
"Okay?" I ask. I'm still not sure that she'll appreciate what I'm doing. And I find that I'm getting more and more distracted, as I start to get hard beneath the trousers of the dumb suit.
She nods mutely. I do it again, while pressing my fingers into her flesh.
"Ah!" She cries out and her back arches against me as I simultaneously fire off a couple of neurons in her cerebellum. "Oh my god," she mutters when she gets her breath back, "You are /not /this good in the real world."
I feel mildly irritated that she's pointed out my inability to get her writhing like this - with just my fingers - back in Zion, but she does have a point. But if I can make her feel this good - and watch her feeling this good - what's the point of talking about the reality of the situation?
It's stupid. It goes against every ideal the resistance fights for. Freedom and truth, that's what we're all about, but-here, now, we're enjoying ourselves. That's freedom. The freedom to know what we're doing, to make the choice to do it. We're allowed to play around in the construct, we're allowed to flirt and touch and kiss with our digital selves. We've earned it.
Her aversion to actually making love in here is understandable, though. Some things are sacred.
We don't talk much for a couple of minutes. The close, sticky air in the room is only disturbed by Trinity's regular moans and my deep, shuddered breath. I slowly up the frequency of the shocks I'm sending through her coding, and watch as little shimmering glyphs of pleasure dance up and down her spine. She's still convulsing against me, her bare ass rubbing against my crotch, and it's all I can do not to push towards her as well. Damn it, being so turned on by Trin's RSI was not part of the plan.
Her cries start getting higher, more strained, and the glyphs start shining brighter and moving faster. I realize they're all coalescing towards my hand, between her legs. The cries turn to desperate sobs, and she spasms and shudders against me with a miniature explosion of glyphs and light. I groan in answer as I realize, disconnectedly, that I've created an explosion of my own in response, a few inches away from hers. Trying to ignore the sticky feeling for a few moments, I watch as her code slowly returns to the normal streams of green.
I shift a little, and she looks up at me. She blinks. Her eyes are wide and dazed. A tear slides down her cheek.
"Trin?"
Turning away from me, she closes her eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath. "I'm fine."
I nod, and trace patterns on the skin of her stomach before speaking again. "Do you want to get out of here?" I ask, well aware that we must be pushing our time limit.
She takes a little longer than necessary to reply. "...Yeah. I guess so."
Smiling, I make a decision. I decode and recode the blankets so that they're on top of us, instead of beneath us. I decode my clothes, too - don't know why I didn't do it earlier, it's much better without barriers between her skin and mine - and relax with her under the covers. She's still shaking. The muscles in her legs twitch a little.
We take a few minutes. My hands run over Trinity's body - soothingly this time - stroking her, relaxing her, checking that her codes are okay, that I didn't do any damage in my momentary stupor. She seems fine.
After a while, she sighs and shifts away from me. "Okay." She nods.
I nod as well, shutting my eyes and concentrating. Okay... there's a string in the codes for the construct - just twist this glyph here into a number over /there-/got it.
I open my eyes and Trinity's gone, the faintest shimmer of electrical distortion in the air where she was. It's far easier getting myself out; I don't even really have to think about it. Before I know it, I'm breathing the stale air of the ship.
"Jesus, Neo." Trinity's face blocks out the light above me, as she leans over and jacks me out.
"What?" I nearly smile when I see that she's still got a noticeable blush in her cheeks - and then I realize what she's talking about. "Shit."
"Yeah, and washing's not for another two days. You'd better go rinse it off."
I really hadn't thought that this was going to happen in the real world. Wet dreams, I tell myself. Just because they're not real doesn't mean they won't make you /cream your jeans/. I haven't had to deal with this since I was thirteen.
I stand up, brush a kiss against Trinity's cheek and head towards the ladder, praying I don't run into Morpheus or Link on my way to our cabin. Just as I swing myself onto the rungs, Trinity calls out to me.
"Neo-" I pause. She looks beautiful, half silhouetted by the fluorescent lights, her skin lit from within by the afterglow. "Thank you." She smiles at me gratefully.
I return the smile with a grin. I don't know what to say. It was something she needed, yes, but... goddamn, it was fun for me as well. I'd forgotten how much I like changing, hacking... editing.
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