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Greased Lightning	By : DrakeClawfang Category: Final Fantasy Games > Final Fantasy XIII Views: 10427 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XIII or any related media or concepts, they are the legal property of Square Enix and I make no profit from this or any derivated works.

Chapter List
- 1-Greased Lightning
- 1
Greased Lightning
In some regards, one could consider Hope Estheim a lucky man. A millennium or two of war between fal'Cie and their gods had wreaked a lot of chaos on civilization. The world was destroyed a few times over and the space-time continuum ground to a halt like an old clock whose gears were rusting.
Yet a handful of people had survived, and Hope had been lucky enough to be one of them. And during it he had been the leader of humanity through the Academy, and made scientific breakthroughs that would be remembered centuries later. He had broken the curse of the l'Cie and freed himself from condemnation by the fal'Cie, and found a group of friends to help him come to terms with the hardest tragedies of his life.
Now, it was two years since the creation of the world the Pulse survivors had dubbed "Nova Terra", and the sixteen-year-old Hope Estheim, along with most of his friends and allies, had faded from the limelight. They'd had their turn with stardom in the aftermath of Cocoon's fall, for a month or two everyone wanted to talk to them. They didn't care for it this time, and they had gone off to live their own quiet, normal lives. Serah lived with Snow, leaving Hope to move in with Lightning to keep her company.
And in that regard, one could consider Hope Estheim cursed.
Hope Estheim himself was of the latter opinion.
"Hope, can you do me a favor?"
Sitting on a deck chair in a pair of pale yellow swim trunks, he sat up and looked to his left.
"What's up?"
Down the length of the pool in the backyard of their home, Lightning had her hands folded under her chin, lounging on her stomach in another deck chair in a bright aqua bikini. Further down under a patio umbrella, the visiting Serah had fallen asleep on her chair about an hour ago, her face turned towards the sun with a pair of sunglasses over her eyes.
"Can you bring the sunblock over?"
Hope knelt to grab the orange bottle beside him and moved his arm to toss it over to her. Lightning turned her head his way, blue-green eyes fixing on the bottle.
"I said bring it over."
Hope nodded and stood up, walking over to Lightning and holding it down to her. Instead of raising a hand to take it, she gestured her head over her shoulder.
"Mind?"
Hope realized what she was asking and stammered out his response. "O-oh! Right, uh, sure." Lightning turned her head forward again and shifted her position slightly. Hope took a moment to look her over and took a deep breath.
All things considered, he had a happy, peaceful life these days, except for the fact that he was stuck in his fourteen-year-old body again. Or had been, two years ago when they first arrived. Apparently Bhunivelze's time-twisting in that regard hadn't been undone. Adjusting to being a teenager again had taken time. He couldn't go out to bars, he couldn't see R-rated movies, couldn't drive anything with more than two wheels.
And most agonizing of all, he couldn't finally tell the pink-haired soldier stretched out before him how he felt.
The night he had realized that was the same night Hope found out he was too young to get into bars. Or buy liquor from the stores.
Hope had dedicated years of his life trying to find a way to save those he cared for. He had concocted ridiculous fantasies in his head of seeing Lightning again, confessing his love, kissing her passionately, then sweeping her off her feet and carrying her into his bedroom to show her just how deep his love for her ran. Sometimes in his fantasies he took her to the shower, or the couch. Sometimes he didn't take her anywhere and they just sank to the floor together in whatever nondescript room his mind had put them in. Hope was just thankful that he had outgrown his wet dream phase when they started coming to him. He didn't need Alyssa asking her boss why his sheets were damp.
Now that they were finally back to normal and on the same plane of existence again, Hope had psyched himself up to tell her, when it occurred to him that he was in the same position as during the Barthandelus adventure, a fourteen-year-old kid trying to tell a twenty-one-year-old woman he loved her. Hope had spent an hour or so trying to work out the math so he could argue to the effect that both of them were a few centuries old even if they didn't look it. He didn't buy it and doubted Lightning would too.
With his de-aged body blocking him from telling her the truth, Hope had been distraught. Eventually he had calmed down, which was shortly in the wake of finally finding a liquor store cashier who knew the former director of the Academy and that he was older than he seemed. He could wait a few more years. He'd already waited a few centuries for this reunion through time travel, paradoxes, and an apocalypse or three. He could ride out four years of normal life until he turned eighteen. How hard could it be?
Living with Lightning for two years had given him a definite and innuendo-laced answer – very hard.
Just because Hope's body was a teenager again didn't mean his mind had regressed too. Or maybe it had, that he was having those dreams on an almost nightly basis. Were adult minds usually this horny, or was his teenaged body hormonal and that was influencing it? Hope decided he didn't care, either way he told his brain and his body to knock it off.
Hope uncapped the bottle of sunblock and squeezed a glob into his palm, then set it down and rubbed his hands together. He took his time; he didn't fully trust himself to attempt this without doing something. Just living with Lightning during her normal day was bad enough, seeing her walk around in shorts and tank-tops, her legs crossed as she watched TV or read. Not to mention the occasional glimpses of her getting dressed through a not fully closed bedroom door, or the times Hope bumped into her going into and coming out of the shower with nothing but a towel hiding the literal woman of his dreams in all her glory from his eyes.
He reached down to Lightning's lower back and began rubbing, the light orange lotion leaving trails as he moved his hands. Her skin was as soft and smooth as satin, and the tanning solution in the lotion left Lightning's skin gleaming in the sunlight. She already had the perfect complexion in his opinion, pale and creamy with a healthy flush when she got hot. As it were that was now, her skin rosy red in the humid summer heat and sticking to his fingers. Hope's thumbs rubbed into the small of her back and traced up, following the curves to where the tie of her bikini was.
Lightning's hands came into view and Hope paused. She deftly undid the aqua tie and pulled the strips down, the material hanging off the deck chair to the concrete. She folded her hands back under her chin and was still again. Hope stared at the bare skin before him, the cups of the bikini poking into his field of view below Lightning. "Um… Light?"
"Tan lines."
Hope nodded. "Right." He moved his hands over her shoulder blades and upper back, the mass of pink hair above sticking to Lightning's neck in the summer heat. He moved his hands down to her sides, stroking up and down, his fingers ghosting along her sides. He looked down at the swell of her breasts, the mounds pressed down against the chair and pillowing to the sides. An "accidental" slip of his hand could have him cupping them, rubbing their curve and grinding the tips against his palms until she squeaked in pleasure. Hope shuddered and shook his head, dispelling the fantasy his mind had suddenly concocted. "If I actually tried that she'd turn over and shove me into the pool… or maybe she'd arch into it and moan…"
Another load of lotion squirted on Hope's hand. "Uh, arms?" Lightning stretched one back to him. Hope carefully took hold of her bicep and rubbed the lotion in, the finely packed muscle quivering ever so slightly as he moved down to her wrist, thin fingers wiggling in the air. He withdrew his hands and Lightning brought her other arm up. Hope repeated the motion, fingers playing up and down the firm flesh. "She's not some fragile rose needing protection. She's more a warrior than I ever was." Her strength was one of the things he adored about her, she was fierce and untamable. His fantasies about Lightning almost invariably ended with her pushing him on his back to take control of him, taking her pleasure shamelessly as she mounted hips and gyrated over him, these same arms planted on either side of his head as she stared down at him…
"Done!" Hope almost squeaked the word and pulled his hands back.
"Excuse me?" Lightning turned her head slightly. "I have legs, Hopes."
"Oh sweet Etro you do." "Right… 'kay." Hope moved down to kneel on the concrete. Lightning's long, lithe legs stretched across his field of vision, one raising slightly to rub against the other at the ankle. Hope squeezed more sun lotion into his palm and took hold of that ankle. The smooth expanse of flesh in his grip shone as he rubbed into it, going up to the knee and coming back. He refilled his hands with lotion and reached to the other leg, which bent up and tilted towards him as he worked. Hope licked his lips. Lightning's legs were his favorite part of her body, as beautiful as the rest of her body was her legs were sculpted to perfection thanks to her strict training regimen. As a kid he had spent hours watching her leap and flip through the air in her Guardian Corps skirt, too young and innocent to full appreciating how lovely the sight truly was.
Hope stood and swung a leg over to the other side of the chair again to stand over her lower legs. Two firm thighs awaited his hands above, connecting to a well-shaped backside barely covered by a triangular strip of light blue-green material. Hope quietly gulped and drizzled more lotion on his palms. He knelt, wrapping his fingers around the left thigh and rubbing up and down, squeezing ever so slightly. His fingers left impressions in her skin as he pulled them back, the muscle rising back into place a moment later. He turned to the right and lowered his hands again, massaging gently. Sweat rolled down his arms and slid down her leg, and he lifted a hand to wipe his brow.
Movement out of the corner of his eye. Hope turned his head and almost collapsed. Lightning reached back to undo the tie of her bikini bottoms. "You mind? Can't reach." She folded her hands forward again. Hope reached out and slowly took hold of the now-loose material between his thumb and forefinger, peeling it back inch by inch. When he let it go it fell to the chair in a clump between Lightning's legs, leaving her ass bare for the world to behold inches in front of his nose.
"Tan lines, right?" He didn't recognize his own voice. Lightning made a sound of acknowledgement in her throat. Hope extended his hands down, trying to control his racing heart. He jumped when he made contact with Lightning's rear. He looked up at her to see if she noticed his behavior. If she did it wasn't apparent. Hope set one hand down on either cheek and went to work. Compared to the rest of her toned form Lightning's ass was plump, the fleshy mounds yielding and soft. Hope ran his thumbs along the crack between them, his fingers pressing deeply on her rear to the point her flesh stuck to them when he pulled them back. He looked down, unable to help his curiosity. Somewhere in the shadows of her ass below him her bare pussy lay, as warm with summer heat as the rest of her body. His eyes looked down further to his swim shorts, a visible bulge tenting the front.
Once more images of lust filled Hope's mind. In his fantasy he pulled down his swim trunks and fell forward, bracing his arms over Lightning's shoulders, and thrust his hips forward to sheath his cock inside her. She arched back and gasped in surprise, Hope grabbing her neck and pulling her up to kiss her deeply. She moaned into his mouth as he pounded into her, her ass rippling as his hips smacked against her cheeks, the deck chair groaning with the motion. His hands moved to her breasts, the untied bikini top stuck to them with sweat. He flung the clothing away and took hold, his fingers working her nipples into tight nubs. Lightning broke the kiss to look up at him, her eyes dark with lust and longing, her face flushed red with heat and passion, her breath coming in hot pants on his face, staggered in time with his thrusts.
"Hope?" Hope jarred from his fantasy and looked forward. Lightning's head was turned and he prayed she couldn't see his shorts from that angle. "You almost finished back there?"
Hope swallowed heavily. "A-Almost." He reached down and quickly brought his hands around Lightning's butt one more time to feign like he was still working, then stepped away. "There."
"You sure you didn't miss anywhere?"
"Not damn likely." "No, you're good."
"Mmm, great. Thanks."
"Sure."
Hope looked at the pool, glancing over at Serah under the umbrella with her sunglasses on, her chest rising and falling in sleep. He looked at his swim trunks again. His erection was painful, the waistband almost stretching out so far he could look down and see the head of his dick. "I'm feeling kinda hot, gonna head inside to get a drink." "And take care of this." Out of a sense of self-respect for his true age he tried to keep from masturbating, a force of will living with Lightning, but even he had his limits.
"Sure." Lightning lifted a hand to wave as Hope walked past her to the house. "Come back out in an hour or so. I'll need someone to do my front."
Hope froze, his eyes going wide. He whipped his head around to stare, Lightning's eyes shut and her head resting on her forearms. His mind flooded with images of what she meant and would be expecting from it, Lightning's untied bikini still laying beneath her. He turned and sprinted, the screen door to the patio slamming behind him.
The backyard went quiet save for the gentle hum of the pool filter and the chirping of birds.
After a moment Serah slowly shook her head and leaned her head forward, watching her sister behind her sunglasses. "You're awful."
Lightning opened her eyes to look at the door to the house, her lips curling into a sly smile.
- 1
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Greased Lightning