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Mine.	By : KittyMeowMaxwell Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 925 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Mine.
- 2-Touched
- 3-Wet.
- 4-Weighed.
- 5-Hunted.
- 6-Feathered.
- 7-Warned.
- 8-Beaten.
- 9-Needy.
- 10-Satisfied.
- 11-Violated.
- 12-Loved.
- 13-Examined.
- 14-Prepared.
- 15-Chosen.
- 16-Marked.
- 17-Whipped.
- 18-Pierced.
- 19-Relaxed.
- 20-Discovered.
- 21-Won.
- 22-Mine.
- 10
- 11
- 12
Warnings: Lemon � specifically, rimming. If you
don�t know what rimming is, it�s not my fault if you read it. At any rate,
-.-.-.- will mark the
beginning and end of the rimming, since I know some people
(especially Val ::grins::) don�t like it. Irvine
really likes it� in RP and in my fics. Umm� there may be language
� not sure � yaoi and all the other things you ought
to expect from this fic by now, if you�re still reading.

Pairings: �

Disclaimer:
I own nothing but names and personalities of chocobos and gayla. Also any random natives that appear who are
obviously not styled off characters from the game. It�s pretty easy to pick
those� Heh.

Author�s
Notes: I�m so slack with updating this fic. ::cries::
I�m so sorry. I don�t have much of an excuse except that I keep forgetting.
Also, I�m getting closer to the end of what I�ve written, and I�m not writing
enough pages between updates to make up for the eight-or-so that get posted. So
the gap between the end of each chapter and the end of what I�ve written is
getting smaller. >_<

Ah, yes!
For those of you who would like to know/read, Eoko, Val and I now have a webpage for our RP�s.
Here is the URL: http://www.geocities.com/eoko_dincht/ValEoKitty_Welcome.html
Please do go and have a look around. There is a lot of sex. ;)

Oh! In
other news, I spent three hours this
morning trying to find a suitable picture for my Xanga. It is damn near impossible to find a good and sexy picture of one Irvine Kinneas
or Irvine Kinneas with Zell
(those are even more impossible).
Therefore, I am putting out a call for pictures of the cowboy either by himself
or with Zell. Those sent to me will earn the right to a yaoi
fanfiction, pairing and, if
you so desire, plot of your choice! Send to istaqa@hotmail.com and you will be
loved forever! You will also get a healthy dose of smut.

/Native
speak./

Mine.
� KittyMeowMaxwell.

Chapter Eleven � Violated.

Seifer was
awake the moment the sun broke through the canopy to light the forest. He
flicked a spider out of his hair and rubbed at his face, sighing in agitation.
He knew he owed Squall an apology from the night before.

He prepared
their breakfast and Squall stirred as the cooking smells tickled his nose. One
storm cloud eye slit open to glare at him.

�The sun
better damnwell be up�� he said warningly.

�It is. It
woke me.� There was a long silence in which Squall reached under his bedding,
pulled out a rock, and chucked it into the trees. �Squall� Listen, I-�

�Forget it,
Sheriff. I understand. Now, give me breakfast.�

Seifer
chuckled.

They were
on their way in little time, the chocobos in high spirits after a night�s rest
and grazing. But there were still so many trails and no way of telling which was the real one. If they found no true path at the end of
this day, they both knew they would have to return home empty handed, and with
the death of one man on their consciences.

�You don�t
suppose he�s already killed him, do you?� Squall wondered into the
early-morning hush as they rode side-by-side along a chosen trail.

Seifer
shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, then rested it on his thigh,
fingers drumming there in thought.

�You said
yourself this savage seems to consider Irvine
his property, and not as a slave. Why kill him if he wanted to�� Seifer trailed
off. �Why kill him? It wouldn�t make sense. Besides, the way he told me Irvine
was his property sure didn�t suggest any intent to kill him.�

Squall
shifted uneasily in his saddle, glancing around them and giving a tug on the
reins when Dot craned her head and started to head after a brightly coloured
butterfly.

�You know
he won�t go so easy next time.�

�That was
easy?� Seifer brandished his thumb, from which they�d removed the splint now,
but which was still strapped for support.

�He could
have killed you. He didn�t. That was because there was no need. As far as he�s
concerned, he beat you. That means you�re supposed to leave it alone. He
catches you after his property again, he�s got every right to kill you, and he
will.�

�Not this
time. I won�t underestimate him again. I thought I had the upper hand just
because he was the one with the pistol at his skull. I didn�t know he�d move
that fast. I know now.�

Squall
shook his head and sighed. Not that it
matters, he mused. I don�t think
we�ll ever find them�

- - - - - -
-

Zell
stirred to find they had moved apart during the night and when he propped
himself up on one elbow he saw that his cowboy was laid flat out on his
stomach, head pillowed on his arms. A slight smile curved Irvine�s
lips. A smirk tugged at Zell�s and he gently slipped the snow-lion pelt down
and out of the way to reveal the gentle curve of his taken�s
spine, lifting deliciously into the more rounded curve of his arse and flowing
into those long, elegant legs. His mind slipped back to how they�d wrapped
around him, flexed with the movements of their sweat-slick bodies.

Irvine murmured in his sleep and tried to
burrow into the furs beneath him, goosebumps rising on his velvet skin.

Ai, how
elegant he was� How beautiful and perfect and � Zell grinned � his. Ah, yes. His.
Now he knew Irvine wouldn�t turn
on him, and would likely do anything for him. The cowboy would hunger for him
at all times. It was time to go back to the native�s peoples, and claim his
taken properly, Mark him.

But first, to take him again. Ahh, yes�

Zell�s
tongue flicked out to wet his lips and he reached out, smoothing his fingers
through the waves of auburn silk hair, then running the hand down the cowboy�s
spine and stroking it over his arse.

Irvine shifted, hips reflexively lifting
to the touch and Zell�s fangs showed in a predatory grin. The cowboy already
knew his touch. He didn�t yet wake, fighting it even as his body longed for
wakefulness in order to respond properly.

Zell dipped
his fingers close to Irvine entrance, but
didn�t linger, running his hand down an inner-thigh and grinning delightedly
when the cowboy parted his legs.

�/Wake up, Irvine�/�
Zell purred, leaning over his taken to put his mouth close to his ear.

Irvine made a little mewling sound, face
losing its relaxed, sleepy state and Zell smirked, lapping just below the
cowboy�s ear. Another sound escaped Irvine�s
lips and the native brought a finger to his mouth, wetting it thoroughly, then
bringing it down to touch at his taken�s entrance
before dipping gently inside.

- - - - - -
-

Irvine woke to Zell�s mouth at his ear and
he murmured wordless good mornings, then whimpered
when the native�s finger slipped within him. He woke completely at that and bit
his lower lip, burying his face in his arms and giving another, more urgent
whimper.

�/Sore?/� Zell wondered softly, rubbing the curve of Irvine�s
arse with a thumb.

�Mmn�� he agreed, now chewing on his lower lip.

�/Alright,/� Zell murmured and took his finger away.

Irvine smiled and looked up at Zell, who
smiled back and kissed him gently, then gave a smirk of devilish intent and
shifted downward.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

�Zell�?�
the cowboy wondered warily, but he received no answer. Instead, Zell�s hands
came to his arse, ever so gently parting the cheeks and Irvine�s
eyes widened. �/No, Zell, I ca-� His words cut off in a soft, surprised cry as
warmth entered him, slick and oh so good.
It left again and he could hear the smirk in his taker�s voice when he spoke.

�/You like
that?/�

�/Yes� good. Please�/� And he lifted his hips just a touch,
silent asking to go with the vocalization. He had no inhibitions left.

That warm,
arrogant chuckle slid down the length of his spine and the pleasure returned,
making him shiver. It took a long few heartbeats of sensation infusing his body
before he realised it was Zell�s tongue working so knowingly inside of him.
Then, it didn�t matter, because it just blurred into warmth and pleasure.

Irvine moaned from the back of his throat,
squirming helplessly. He struggled a long moment, then finally drew his knees
up beneath him, freeing his growing arousal from the pain of being trapped
between the furs and his body. Zell rode the movement easily, one hand
stretching out to support his weight at the level of Irvine�s
knees.

�Zell�� the
cowboy whispered, and it came to his own ears as a needy, pleased thing. �Oh,
Zell��

He felt the
flex of a powerful muscle against his flank, Zell�s hand fisting in the furs by
his knee, and knew with a fierce pride that he affected the native. The
knowledge only lasted a split second before he moaned again, hips bucking in
response to the plunge of Zell�s tongue. Indeed, it demanded a response, and he
was powerless to deny it. He gripped at the furs, nuzzling his own arms and
again he moaned, long and low.

�/Please�
Zell� I need�/� he whispered, then whimpered
wordlessly, arching a little.

Oh! It felt
so good. Granted, not so good as having Zell
inside of him - it was a close second. But he did need. He needed the native�s touch, his hand around his arousal
to take the aching want and make it more.

�/What?/� Zell paused only long enough to purr the word in a way
that pooled in Irvine�s belly before
his tongue returned to its exquisite torture.

�/T-touch me! I c-can�t� I need� want� p-please� please!/�

�/No,/�
Zell said with a laugh and Irvine cried out desperately as the tongue dipped
again, merciless, mercifully hot and slick and-

�Aaah! Zell!�

The cry was
high, keening and his fingers worked and grasped at the fur. He whimpered and
moaned, hoping to gain Zell�s pity, but his taker gave him none, only more of
the delicious sensation that just wasn�t
enough!

He could
stand it no longer. One arm unfolded and he lifted his hips just a little more
so he could reach down, fingers wrapping around his own arousal and beginning a
steady rhythm. He expected a reprimand for taking things out of Zell�s control,
but gained a growl of approval instead, and realised it must have been what the
native wanted him to do.

A shudder
coursed through him and he tensed, feeling the first wash of release breaking
over him. Oh, he didn�t want it to end� It was so good and warm and sensual�

�/Ah, yes�/� he whispered and heard an answering groan from
the native. (1) �/Yes! Ah-ah-ah� Zell!/�
The last was a stretched out moan of his taker�s name, riding the back of the
release that crashed through him, leaving him trembling and whimpering.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

�/Hmm� good. So pretty, my cowboy,/�
Zell purred as though he were even responsible for the way the cowboy had been born. He helped Irvine stretch out his legs and shift onto his
side, and when the native settled beside him, drawing him close, Irvine
frowned slightly. Languid and satiated as he was, he could still feel the press
of an unheeded arousal at his stomach.

�/Zell�
you�/� he murmured, but the native pressed two fingers to Irvine�s
lips.

�/I�m fine.
You matter more. You�re satisfied, then so am I./�

�/It�s not
fair,/� Irvine
replied, blinking owlishly. �/I want to help./�

In light of
Zell�s very recent act, how could he not? There was as much enjoyment to be had
in giving pleasure as receiving it, he knew, and he had never let a partner go
away unfulfilled. He wasn�t about to start now.

He urged
Zell to lay on his back, thrilled at the prospect of
yet again holding the man under his own brand of power. He kissed a tender,
worshipful path down twitching, powerful muscles, beginning at the hollow of
the native�s throat and working his way down the center of the broad chest. His
tongue and lips meandered along the curve of a pectoral muscle, glancing
briefly over a nipple in a way that only made Zell hiss needily at him. He
smirked and continued downward, eventually following the general in-sweep of his
taker�s abdomen to his navel where he teased and played, knowing precisely what
he was doing to the man beneath him.

- - - - - -
-

So, his
taken was already teasing him. Zell couldn�t find it in him to disapprove, it
was too good. He let his breathing hitch, let a low moan quaver from his throat
when Irvine�s hand stroked
up the inside of his thigh. The cowboy deserved to know he was doing everything
right, and nothing wrong.

�Aside from
the persistent teasing!

Ai! Again and again his taken drifted lower, lips and teeth and tongue
promising, promising� But he didn�t deliver, returning to lick and
suckle at his navel, fingers ghosting over arousal or nipple, thigh or abdomen.

�Irvine!�
he demanded, a low growl that no taken had yet
ignored.

The cowboy
paused, two patches of brilliant sky looking up the length of his body, veiled
by perfect copper-gold lashes and framed by waves of the same coloured silk. He
took Zell�s breath away, and fierce pride and possessiveness swamped him again,
so that he almost forgot what he�d been meaning to say.

�/Yes?/� Irvine
prompted, smirking. Zell couldn�t decide if it was unbelievably sexy or
unbelievably annoying.

�/Enough.
Enough teasing./�

He ducked
his head, eyes falling shut and made a great production of stroking his tongue
too slowly across Zell�s tip in a
manner no trembling virgin taken should take. He was no longer a trembling
virgin, this was true, but one taste,
and all his doubts were cast aside. Zell knew he had chosen well � Irvine
was a sexual being, and the native had been sure he would open up soon enough
when he realised what it could give him. Of course, he had been right, this was
expected, but the speed with which his taken was learning, teaching himself,
floored Zell.

So did that
slow, elaborate lick. His eyes rolled back, his head turned aside and he
groaned. Irvine chuckled and
took the native into his mouth, attempting to match the deep, all-encompassing
pleasure he�d been given the night before. When his automatic responses kicked
in and he drew away, looking disappointed, Zell had to laugh lowly.

�/You will learn. Don�t rush it. I-/� He cut off in favour of
a long moan as Irvine returned to safer ground, taking the head between his
lips and working his mouth around that while his hand curled around Zell�s
length and stroked a perfect rhythm in time with the movements of his mouth.

The native
couldn�t control a buck of his hips, but it didn�t phase Irvine,
and it wasn�t long before he was thrashing on the furs, crying the talents of
his taken to the heavens.

�/Ai! Irvine!
Don�t� stop. Don�t stop!/� he begged, and the cowboy
gave an appreciative hum, which only served to send him more wild.

- - - - - -
-

He wouldn�t
dare. Zell�s utter loss of control
was intoxicating. No amount of alcohol or rancher�s pipe weed could compare,
and he was addicted to everything the native was. To being taken, to being
tasted, to being claimed, to driving him to complete mindlessness with tongue
and lips and teeth and fingers.

He was more
beautiful than the most beautiful women Irvine
had ever lifted the skirts of, in so many different ways. He satisfied
something the cowboy hadn�t known needed satisfying, but now that he knew,
there was nothing else that would offer that satisfaction.

When the
native gave in, when his body tensed and his hips bucked and his fingers
clenched at the furs with a strength that could kill Irvine
in a heartbeat, the cowboy took everything he had to offer. And he liked the taste, lapped every bead away.

Zell drew
him up by way of a hand in his hair and at his shoulder and kissed him in that
all-consuming, tasting way. He submitted to it, melting under the assault and
molding himself to the body he was getting more and more familiar with.

�/You taste like sex�/� came a low, sexy purr.

He did
blush a little, but he smiled, licking his lips.

�/Oh, so did you�/�
he purred back, the smile turning suggestive.

�/Ah! I
think I�m losing the innocent cowboy I took from the woman!/�

�/Is that a
bad thing?/�

�/Oh, I
think not./�
He smirked and Irvine liked the way
he flashed his fangs.

�/It�s good,/� he ventured, pleased with himself and his taker.

�/Very good. Tomorrow, we start for my home. It
won�t take long to get there./�

- - - - - -
-

He felt Irvine
tense in his arms, swallowing, and he ran a soothing hand down his back.

�/Is that a
good idea?/� the cowboy wondered.

Zell had
wondered that himself, but would not let Irvine
see him uncertain. But he was certain
he wanted to Mark his taken, and that could only be done with his people. So
all uncertainty had to be ignored, and he would do it. He would do anything for
the cowboy.

�/I won�t
let them hurt you. The HeartSeer will be persuaded and none will have the right
to challenge my claim. You�ll have my Mark./�

�/You think
you can own me�?/�

�/Yes./� The answer was calm, flat and would brook no argument.
It was a certainty, and Zell already knew it. Irvine
ought to as well.

�/You stole me�/�

Zell
shrugged, unconcerned. Irvine
belonged to him, it wasn�t stealing.
It was taking what was rightfully his.

�/Now, you understand yourself. You understand me./�

Irvine was silent for a long while, then he spoke softly.

�/I� want�
I want your mark�/�

�/I know,/� Zell replied, drawing his cowboy closer. He nosed at the
bite mark he�d already given Irvine,
impermanent, but a mark nevertheless. He touched Irvine�s
hair, lifted the feather bound there and smiled gently.

�/You�re
confidant of yourself,/� Irvine
said dryly.

�/I am
never wrong,/� he said simply, matter-of-factly.

His taken
just chuckled and shook his head a little, preoccupied with tracing the lines
of his muscles with elegant fingertips. The native pressed a possessive kiss to
his mouth, and purred his approval when then was no fight.

- - - - - -
-

It was a
few days travel from there and Zell taught Irvine
ways of pleasure he hadn�t even imagined before. His taker seemed to delight in
making him exclaim in disbelief or surprise. Indeed, he wasn�t complaining
about it himself.

Never
before had Irvine been treated
the way Zell treated him. He could remember treating women in a way akin to it
but still not the same and certainly he had experienced nothing like it before.
He wasn�t the native�s equal, that was a given. He was expected to do what he
was told when he was told without question, as servant to master. But he was no
servant. It was almost as though he were made of glass, or as though he were a
deity, so thoroughly did Zell take care of him and worship him. I tell you to do these things, but only to
make your life better. This seemed to be the silent belief the native held,
even if �making his life better� referred to making Zell�s life better in order that he could better please Irvine.

And please
him, Zell did, and often. None of his treatment was at all distasteful.

As they
traveled, his taker taught him how to use a bow and arrow, and they soon
realised the cowboy was a natural. His aim was rarely off, due mostly he
surmised, to his pin-point accuracy with a shotgun. The bow that became an
almost permanent fixture across Whipcrack�s shoulders almost made up for his
missing gun.

At roughly
noon on the third day of traveling, Zell stopped them and indicated that Irvine
should be silent and remain where he was. By now, it came naturally for the
cowboy to just obey, so he lifted his leg, rested his ankle on Whipcrack�s neck
and his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand and watched Zell go. He left
Shir�nis behind, but took Jirrah with him. Irvine
still marveled at how silently and swiftly the native disappeared.

He was
happily lost in a daydream when he suddenly found himself dragged
unceremoniously from his chocobo�s back and forced to his knees. His instinct
was to throw his weight forward and try and break the hold, but a Belhelmel blade knife like Zell�s pressed to his throat was
all the encouragement he needed to stay still.

�/Well,
what have we here�?/� a soft voice wondered and a
dark-skinned native came into his line of sight. He crouched before Irvine,
hands hanging between his thighs as he balanced on his toes. He cocked his head
and flashed a grin, three green feathers rattling in his hair.

�/Zell�s
new taken?/� guessed a voice behind him, presumably
belonging to whoever held the knife. The blade pressed closer when Irvine
shifted a little. �/The one Kiros spoke of./�

The native
in front of him nodded thoughtfully.

�/Not a bad
sight to come across after a day�s hunting�/� he mused. �/Not especially to my
tastes, but pretty nevertheless./� And he reached
forward, cupping Irvine�s jaw to turn
his face and inspect the elegant lines of his features. The cowboy endured
barely a heartbeat before he pulled away, showing his teeth as he�d seen Zell
do. He knew the gesture didn�t carry any of the weight it did coming from his
taker.

�/No manners, Ti. He pulls away like a trembling virgin,/� commented the knife-wielder as
the native Irvine figured must be Ti showed his teeth back, with all the weight
the cowboy lacked.

�/A virgin would know his place. Ah, but it is so typical of Zell to have gone easy
on him. Training, I imagine, would not be his strong point./�

This time
when Ti�s hand came at him, the knife bit deeper, daring
him to even try and move. He trembled, far more in anger than fear, as the hand
slid up his thigh. Mine, Zell�s voice
said in his head, and everything in him clamoured that this man had no right to touch him. Mine. My taken. My cowboy. Mine. He gritted his teeth and refused to
react.

�/You�re going to train him now�?/� laughed
the other native.

�/I
certainly didn�t fail with you, now
did I Nirrin?/�

Nirrin
chuckled and stepped closer behind Irvine,
legs pressing against his back to hold him still as Ti moved forward, hand
inching higher, under the loincloth.

Mine!

�/No�/� Irvine
hissed, then louder; �/No!/�

Shir�nis
sensed his tone and she warked loudly, Whipcrack following her lead. Ti seemed
astounded that Irvine knew a word in
their language, and Nirrin flinched at the birds, drawing blood.

- - - - - -
-

(1) From
the moment of waking to� well� a while after it, the fic was hand-written,
because I�d got impatient and wanted to write the waking-after-sex scene. I
have a thing for waking up scenes� Anyway, in the handwritten version, habit
took over and I�d written �the fighter� instead of �the native�. I noticed it
while I was still typing �he whispered�, because I�m usually reading a few
words ahead, and it made me chuckle. Then when I got to it� I typed �fighter�
anyway. My excuse is that I�m tired and worn out from uni and re-enrolment�
fucking re-enrolment�

- - - - - -
-

Author�s
Notes: �Is that a cliffhanger?! Who
put that there?! ::smirk::
- 10
- 11
- 12
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Mine.