Chapter Text
Aoi had these recurring dreams for a long time. Since moving to Tokyo, actually. At first he attributed it to the upheaval, the drastic change of scenery and pace, the stress of leaving home and trying to make it as a musician. He couldn’t really call them nightmares, because he never woke up in a fearful panic like he had with other dreams. These dreams just faded out, leaving him with vaguely unsettling memories of bright lights, exam tables, and distorted figures.
He’d recently heard a podcast on lucid dreaming, and started on a deep dive of the topic. It seemed the perfect way to address these recurring dreams, a way to recall exactly what was going on, and hopefully either control the narrative or put an end to them. Unfortunately, it had been months since his last one, and no mental gymnastics before falling asleep seemed to entice them back.
Aoi was able to practice his lucid dreaming techniques in some other dreams, managed to somehow play both necks of his double-necked guitar at the same time, for instance. He also had success with a dream that started at a club and ended with not only the girl he was hitting on, but her twin sister and also the handsome bartender in his bed. After he awoke and cleaned up, he decided if that dream became his new recurring dream, he wouldn’t complain.
Of course, giving up on the matter triggered the recurrence. Aoi had just drifted off to sleep, maybe wasn’t even fully there yet, when he saw the bright lights behind his eyelids. He was determined to stay asleep, clearing his mind, feeling his body float up with each breath, holding on only to the slenderest thread of consciousness. He was able to take an analytical assessment of his situation, marveling at how it felt like he was levitating, ascending even, but resisting the urge to open his eyes and break the spell.
The light grew too bright to see anything, plus it got very cold for a moment. Aoi figured this is when he actually fully fell asleep, and relaxed as the temperature warmed again, settled as he felt the mattress against his back once again, even if dream-mattress was harder than the luxury one he knew was actually beneath him. Now that he was feeling dream sensations, he opened his eyes.
It was a mistake.
Sterile white and chrome equipment surrounded him. The mattress felt hard because there was no mattress, just a slab of an exam table. Blinding lights were overhead, and he moved to raise an arm to shield his eyes, only to find that it was strapped down. All his limbs were; his head was not and he was able to raise it enough to peer down the length of his naked body.
Now fear was setting in and he mentally yelled at himself, reminding himself that he was in control, that he could change the details of this dream just like he had before. He closed his eyes again, stilled his breathing, imagined the restraints dissolving and reforming into his tshirt and shorts. Visualization complete, he smiled at his success and rolled onto his side.
He didn’t get very far. His eyes flew open again in alarm. Still naked, still restrained. This was enough. He employed the techniques to wake himself up, to pull himself out of the dream.
Unsuccessful.
Aoi strained his neck to look around, rather wishing he hadn’t. He took in the trays filled with medical implements and exam tools, tall many-armed devices of unknown function, raised mirrors on pivoting stands, and monitors galore. He scanned the walls, but they were white, glossy, arching over his head in a smooth curve. As his gaze swept the room again, the wall, solid a moment ago, slid open silently and two individuals entered.
Aoi gawked at the two beings. His vision glitched, and for a moment he swore it was Uruha and Kai. He reminded himself that this is how dreams worked, that you’ll make something familiar in a dream because your brain would pull a memory, even if it was one you didn’t consciously remember. But this was uncanny. The features were distorted, the eyes too big and all black, the chins too narrow, like one of Ruki’s filters. They appeared to be naked as well, but there was barely any definition to their bodies. The limbs were too long, the fingers too long, the frames too narrow. Uruha’s normally bony chest was concave, and both men had only a vague bulge between their legs, like a doll. Kai’s was admittedly bigger, and Aoi scowled at himself for pulling that detail into the dream. He blinked rapidly, but the faces didn’t shift, even as the two approached his table.
Uruha picked up a white clipboard from a tray and examined it before turning to Kai. Nothing was said audibly, but Kai nodded and wheeled a machine close to the table, using his long fingers to comb through a set of cables draped over the side. Uruha checked the clipboard again and began pressing buttons on the device, turning a knob carefully, then pausing and backing it off a little from whatever setting he chose.
Still trying to wrest control of the dream, Aoi stared at the machine, puzzling over it, trying to avoid looking at Kai, who was staring back at Aoi with a mirroring quizzical expression. In a flash of inspiration, Aoi guessed it was an EKG machine, and tried to ask Kai to confirm.
Unsuccessful.
It wasn’t that Aoi’s voice didn’t work, Aoi’s mouth didn’t even move. He tried again, struggled to part his lips, open his jaw, force air through his vocal cords. Nothing happened. He shook his head back and forth, breathing heavily, but his teeth remained clenched together, his lips sealed. Kai looked on with what Aoi perceived as concern, possibly disgust, before turning back to Uruha, who nodded and raised a hand.
Kai picked up a cable, which Aoi noticed had no electrode pad on the end, and came to the side of the bed. His spidery fingers palpated Aoi’s chest, finally settling heavily across his right side with his fingers splayed in a V on either side of his nipple. With his other hand, Kai fiddled with the end of the cable, then brought it to Aoi’s chest. The small metal clamp flashed for a moment under the bright lights, then Aoi felt the pressure, the pinch, growing in intensity as Kai attached it to his nipple.
Aoi bucked on the table, more from confusion than pain at this point, but Kai and Uruha were unmoved. Kai repeated the procedure on the other side, and at least things were balanced now. Aoi looked down at himself, two clamps poking up from his chest, cables running to the machine that Uruha was currently bent over, one finger resting on a switch. He turned to look at Aoi, then pressed the toggle.
Immediately Aoi felt a buzzy warmth spread across his skin. It radiated out from each nipple, spreading down his arms and across his stomach. He felt his face heat as if he was flushing with embarrassment. The sensation continued downward, and he felt a familiar stirring between his legs. The heat in his face intensified, this time not from the machine.
Uruha nodded at Kai again, and the shorter man picked up additional cables. Aoi panicked, thinking of the clamps attaching to his scrotum or being inserted somewhere, but Kai instead approached Uruha, ghosting fingers over the other man’s chest. Aoi could barely make out any variation in the smooth skin of this Uruha’s chest, so unlike the soft pink circles of the real Uruha’s nipples, and dammit, just thinking of them made his dick jump again. Kai paused to make a notation on the clipboard at this development, then returned to his task. He was apparently more astute than Aoi, because he clamped both leads to the alien Uruha’s body.
Uruha’s eyes shimmered in a strange wavelike pattern, then he reached over and pressed another switch. Immediately the tingling sensation from Aoi’s body drew back and refocused at his nipples, at the same time Uruha’s head fell back and his fingers twitched in the air. Kai adjusted the knob, and the intensity increased, the warmth tuning to heat. Uruha’s mouth fell open and strange liquidy crystalline sounds came out. His head lolled to the side, and he looked at Kai with an imploring look.
Aoi strained against his restraints, the burning pinch becoming unbearable, as Kai turned the knob even farther, sliding a little lever this time. Electricity traced along Aoi’s nerves, making his toes flex and his fingers tremble. Tears seeped from the corners of his eyes, causing Kai to make another note. Uruha meanwhile was all but convulsing on his feet as a silver spiderweb pattern spiraled across his skin from each nipple area. The melodic sounds increased in speed and intensity, culminating in an ear-piercing garbled cry as an iridescent liquid spilled out of his mouth in a gush, cascading over his chin and chest onto the floor.
Kai quickly flicked switches, and Aoi felt all sensations fade immediately. Uruha collapsed forward, leaning on the side of the exam table for support, coughing the last of the pearlescent fluid across Aoi’s stomach. Kai reached his long fingers under Uruha’s bent form, unhooking the clamps, then plucked them off of Aoi’s nipples. Blood came rushing back into the compressed nerve endings, and Aoi sucked air through his nose rapidly, still unable to moan or sob at the sensation.
Kai busied himself with putting the machine back, checking a monitor as information scrolled across it. Uruha finally righted himself, and staggered out of the room, the door reforming and disappearing as he passed through it. Kai returned to the table, staring down expressionlessly at Aoi for too long a time, before finally reaching down to touch Aoi’s forehead between his eyes. An immense tiredness settled deep in Aoi’s skull, and although he tried to fight it, tried to open his mouth once again to question what just happened, sleep overtook him and he was gone.
It was still dark when Aoi awoke, flailing in his bed as he pulled against imaginary restraints, and crying out with a voice that functioned as normal. His heart racing, he recalled every detail of the dream, reaching over to flick the nightstand lamp on so he could inspect himself. He ripped off his tshirt, peered and poked at his nipples. They looked normal. Not bruised, not swollen, no tell-tale little teeth marks from the clamps. He ran his fingers across his stomach, which was dry and smooth to the touch. There was no trace of the strange liquid. His wrists were fine, no signs of chafing from the restraints.
Aoi tried to settle his breathing, tried to relax into his soft mattress. It had to have been a dream. But damn, what a dream.