How Much More Can One Man Endure?

BY : VegaKapera
Category: Final Fantasy Games > Final Fantasy XII
Dragon prints: 724
Disclaimer: I do not own Basch or Balthier nor any other thing related to Final Fantasy XII, I write this for my own pleasure and make no money from it

Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Title: How Much More Can One Man Endure?
Arc: None.
Words: 1 763

Characters/Pairing:Balthier/Basch
Rating: NC17
Prompt: Balthier/Basch - Painplay: How quickly he learns again,
to trust the hand that holds the whip
For: March 12th. Springkink.

Author's notes: Not very fond of this one so I'm putting it up here in hopes of getting some ConCrit and/or suggestions on how to improve this story. Forgot to say that there is no actual sex in this one.


"Basch, this cannot continue."

It took Basch a while to remember where he was, why he was covered in sweat and to whom that soft voice belonged. Another nightmare then, a rather bad one if it had caused Balthier to worry enough to leave his own comfortable bed to kneel next to Basch's. The pirate held a firm grip on Basch's wrists and Basch suddenly noted the pain in his lower arms.

"Nalbina again, hm?" Balthier's grip softened while he concentrated. "What was it this time?"

"I was back there again." Basch sighed when Balthier's spell healed his tender arms, bruised by his attempts to free himself of chains that had not been there for a very long time.

Balthier did not let go of his wrists even after the last glistening embers of the spell had vanished, instead he examined him to make cartain that no part of the other's skin had remained purple.

"What happened?" Balthier's voice was soft, low and surprisingly warm.

"The usual." Basch chewed on his lip before he spoke again. "First was the questioning, unchanged even after all this time. You know how the Empire questions those who oppose her..."

"All too well." Long fingers moved to rest upon Basch's hands, painting meaningless symbols on the roughened skin.

"The whipping followed." Basch looked away, unable to meet amber eyes without revealing far too much.

"I am sorry."

That had been the beginning of a conversation that had ended with something distinctively different from anything Basch could possibly have imagined.

The theory was rather unorthodox in itself and it certainly seemed rather peculiar as if not to say downright insane, Basch thought. It was, however, far too late to turn back even if he had wished to.

The idea was that if Basch no longer feared what his nightmares were made of, they would stop. They had expressed it differently then but the meaning did not change just because it was expressed through a different, and far more eloquent, set of words.

Their first session had not included anything but restriction of movement as Balthier had simply tied Basch's hands together and after a few moments tied him to the headboard. For forty minutes he'd been tied before he was able to relax entirely and Balthier had immediately removed the restraints then, smiling gently at Basch while pride sparkled in his eyes.

The second time was a repetition of the first but this time Balthier caressed Basch's chest with a leather belt while they talked.

It was not until the sixth night that Balthier actually used a whip, even then avoiding sudden movements and making an obvious effort not to intimidate the older man.
Basch was grateful, for the pirate's assurance that they would get him through this and for the time Balthier was willing to spend with him even when Basch shivered and forced himself to bite back his tears, but most of all he was grateful for the warmth Balthier provided and for how the pirate always seemed to keep him from panicking.
He'd never thought the Archadian outlaw could be so caring. Yet, whenever he asked Balthier why he wanted to help a dishonored knight, the pirate simply smiled but refused to give him a straight answer.

On the eighth night, when the moon was high and the night was silent, Balthier kissed him.
Basch froze in surprise before his body betrayed him and he leaned into it, not quite able to deny himself that simple pleasure when it was handed to him so freely.
The kiss was nothing like Basch had expected it to be. It was slow, for one thing, and impossibly soft.
Giving and gentle had never before worked well in the same sentence as the word 'Balthier' but somehow it no longer seemed strange.

"Basch" Balthier softly spoke. "I want you to tell me what to do, even if I hold the whip I want you to know that you are in control."

Basch nodded, the last traces of tension leaving his body and he laid back onto the bed. He turned to lie on his stomach, pillow soft against his cheek and Balthier's eyes carefully studied the web of scars that covered Basch's upper back.

"I cannot do that" Balthier mumbled under his breath, perhaps more to himself than to Basch, while he traced the white lines with his fingers.

"Do what?" Basch asked, looking over his shoulder to watch the pirate think.

Doubt clouded Balthier's eyes while he thought and Basch was suddenly afraid, afraid that the pirate would stand up and walk out of the room. Basch moved to caress Balthier's hand with his own, silently praying that the young man would remain by his side.

"Do you trust me?" Balthier asked, his voice strained and his eyes searching Basch's face for an answer.

"Would I be here if I did not?" Basch laughed despite knowing it was the wrong thing to do but forced himself to become silent when Balthier's expression became guarded once more. "I do trust you. Of course I do."

"Then remove the last of your clothing." Balthier visibly relaxed when Basch obeyed. "Will it be alright if we focus on the back of your legs?"

Basch nodded again and sighed when Balthier began to caress his legs, adding more and more pressure until he was massaging the muscled limbs.

"Tell me when." Balthier whispered into Basch's ear before he planted a soft kiss on a bearded cheek.

Basch waited for a few moments, mentally bracing himself before he took a deep breath and opened his mouth.

"Now."

The first time leather touched skin it barely stung, the second and the third only caused the faintest hint of pain and Basch found himself growing impatient, which both annoyed and confused him.

"Harder." He ordered and bit down on his lip.

"Before we progress... The word is 'yensa', say it and I will stop."

"Of course. Harder."


Harder.

Again.

Harder.


His skin broke the eleventh time and he felt how the liquid flame trailed down his legs. In that moment he felt the panic swell inside his chest and he swallowed. Balthier played with Basch's hair, voicing his concern through soft sighs.

It took him a moment to regain control of himself, to blink away the tears and to be able to breathe again.

"Balthier." His lips felt dreadfully dry.

"Yes?" Balthier leaned forward and Basch felt warm breath on his neck.

"I will not be able to speak any more." Basch swallowed again. "I want you to keep going until I tell you to stop. Please. Don't hold back."

"You are certain?"

"Aye."


This was nothing like Nalbina.
He felt no fear, no terror. There was pain, of course, but it was a pain that did not threaten to force him to surrender. Basch wept although he did not know why, he cursed and clawed because it made it easier to weep. His world would become one of heat and pain, of fire and stinging flesh, of leather and sweat.

He felt Balthier in every blow and it had a strange sort of soothing effect on his nerves, as if the pirate's presence was some morbid balm on the wound he'd created. The younger man breathed heavily behind him and Basch found himself entranced by the sound.

His legs were covered in blood and he doubted he'd be able to walk for quite a few days and yet it did not seem to matter. There was comfort to be found in the regularity of the blows and the steady but heavy breathing of the pirate.
He'd begun to think it would last forever when it suddenly stopped.


It was almost worse when the whip no longer came down on him as he felt every single mark on his skin burn and he wondered if this was how it felt to be set aflame. The pain overwhelmed him and he did, at first, fail to notice the more subtle sensation that soon became the one thing his world revolved around, if only for a little while.

He became aware of how Balthier mumbled and how the wounds soon began to tingle. Curative magicks sometimes caused the strangest physical reactions and the effects of Balthier's spell soon demanded Basch's attention.
He did not know if the first moan was caused by pain, relief or pleasure but he still blushed deeply and heard how Balthier chuckled above him.

"How do you feel?" The concern in Balthier's voice caused Basch to suddenly doubt that this was the man who had whipped him until he bled mere moments ago.

Basch remained in his position, afraid that the pirate would notice how his body had begun to react to the erotic sensations that flooded his mind still.

"I am not sure." He finally said.

"Have I been too... severe?" Balthier asked and apologetically put his hand on Basch's upper arm.

"We'll know that in the morning." Basch laughed and shook his head as much as his position allowed. "It was the most pleasant healing process I've gone through after a whipping though."

"Is that why even your neck is blushing?" Balthier teased, more out of habit than intent.

Basch laughed again and relaxed slightly, allowing himself to breathe deeply again, preparing to face the flood of emotions that he knew would follow. It soothed him when Balthier's fingers began to trace soft circles on the skin of Basch's arm and he sighed deeply. He knew that he would cry if he allowed himself to and he could not help but wonder how long he would be able to hold back once Balthier's hand no longer rested on his arm.

"Will you stay with me?" He whispered and buried his face in the pillow to hide the shame that colored his cheeks.

The hand was removed and Basch held his breath for what seemed to be an eternity. He exhaled in shock when a blanket was spread out over him.
Balthier stood up and walked, without a word, to the other side of the room where he dropped the whip onto his bed. The rejection stung as badly as the weapon itself had done before and Basch tried to force himself to clear all thoughts from his mind.

"Now, Basch..."

Basch tried to choke the small hope that rose within him when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Suddenly, the pirate's breath was warm against his neck when Balthier leaned down to whisper.

"Would you mind if I sleep naked?"


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