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Drifting	By : NiaraAfforegate Category: Final Fantasy Games > Final Fantasy XIII-2 Views: 1980 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 1-Drifting
- 2-Pt. 2
- 3-Pt. 3
- 4-Pt. 4
- 5-Pt. 5
- 6-Pt. 6
- 7-Pt. 7
- 3
- 4
- 5
====
Their passage through the Crux was another long trip, this time, but she hadn't truly managed to make sense of where her emotions stood by the end of it anyway. When the gate left them in a grassy field under a cloudy sky, she only vaguely took it in, still in her own thoughts. It wasn't until Noel pulled her out of the way with a shout, that she even registered the group of chocobo-riding people that thundered by, clearly hunting the small group of wild wolves further off.
When she actually looked at them, though, she could see clothing and jewellery that bore a lot of resemblance to Vanille's, in one way, and also to Noel's in another. Noel himself was watching their hunt with a careful eye, and she could sense a ready tension in his body, like he was prepared to spring to and help any moment. He identified them as hunters, and desperate ones at that, but there was something more in his voice as well. She realised what it was a moment later; if Noel was indeed the last survivor of the lost tribe of Pulse, then these hunters were probably the ancestors of his own people, after a fashion. She nodded quickly when he suggested following them back to camp to introduce themselves.
As they entered what looked like the main camp, a lot of the hunters looked at then with curiosity, but none strayed from the tasks they were working on. Every hand was busy with something, it seemed. No-one stopped them, though, and Noel seemed to know where he was going as they made their way through the settlement.
Serah found herself keeping quiet while Noel was making the introductions, apparently able to pick out their leader by sight. The greeting was short and to the point, but she began to see similarities in the way they spoke of matters, between the man, Tipur, and Noel himself. When she stood up for him being a hunter as well, the man seemed unsure and Noel moved his hand slightly toward her, as though to reassure.
“You're dressed a bit like us, but not in any mark I recognise. What clan are you from, boy? Not that it matters... If you're here to cut your hunting teeth, you'll have to look elsewhere for easy prey.”
“If the prey's scarce, why set up here? If it's a recent problem, maybe we can help.” Noel had walked over to look out over the plains, from the lookout vantage that seemed to serve as the village's command area. It looked like the Steppe, she thought. There was no sight of cocoon or the pillar though. That only really meant one thing: they had to be in a time long before Cocoon was even raised by the fal'Cie in the first place. It was a strange irony, in a way to see Noel beginning to fit in so easily with these people, from opposite ends of the timeline. Beside them, Tipur looked out over the land as well.
“Normally, these lands are teeming with game. Normally, young, untested hunters like yourself can come here to train and learn how to tackle larger hunts. The problem is recent, but it's not something I'd place on anyone who wasn't a full-fledged hunter.” His words made Serah frown.
“But, Noel is a hunter!” Beside her, Noel shook his head softly, and explained in the quiet voice she recognised as the one he usually used when dealing with painful memories.
“See the tattoos, Serah? I don't have my hunter's marks. There was no-one left alive who still knew how to do it, by the time I was ready for them.” Even though he'd spoken quietly, Tipur's features tightened with concern.
“Oh. Like that is it? Sorry lad. Well, there's plenty of room here with us if you both need a place. Provided we can solve the food problem, anyway. If you say you're a hunter, then you won't mind if I trail you myself, just to be sure, you understand? We can always use another arm, and if you can help turn this situation around, then you'll be more than welcome to stay by everyone here, I promise you that.” Noel looked back out over the Steppe, verdant with life as it was, and Serah found herself wondering how much of a paradise it must look like to Noel, coming from the dying world he had described to her. She realised how steadfastly he was looking outward now, and caught him swallowing back a sigh. It must have been a very tempting offer.
“Maybe. One day, perhaps. We're happy to help, but we can't stay, not yet. What do you need us to do first, to prove we're up to the task?” To anyone else, she was sure his words would have sounded calm, but she could hear the strain of refusing in his voice.
In the end, it only took a few small tasks for Tipur to acknowledge them as capable hunters, and pitching in with the other hunters around the camp made for a good distraction. As night fell, they found themselves seated around the fire pit near the back of the camp, with many of the other hunters and gatherers. Tipur was beside them, talking with a herder Serah had learned was named Myta, while small portions of wolf meat were passed around, along with soft, fibrous nut flesh that another hunter told them came from Ochu seedlings. The portions were very small and tight, and it made her aware of how important a gesture it was, to be offered a share. Tipur turned to them both as they received their portions.
“Serah, Noel... I'd like to welcome you properly to our camp now. You've helped us much today, and for that we gladly share our meat with you. The last tasks I gave were not ones I would set to an unready hunter, and if you both wish it, I would be pleased to give you the markings that befit true hunters such as yourselves.” He grinned, looking to Serah directly. “I should say my sorry to you, in particular Serah. When you arrived, dressed as strangely as you are, I simply thought that Noel was your protector, not that you were yourself a capable hunter as well.” She blushed and put a hand to her mouth.
“Oh, but... I'm nowhere near as strong as Noel is!” The older man just shook his head, waving away the objection.
“Doesn't matter. The two of you worked together, as a pair, to do the work that hunters do. That makes you a hunter, Serah. An individual's strength is not what matters here, so long as everyone acts as a team to do what they must. If he has protected you in a hunt, then I am certain you have also protected him. If you would rather not bear the marks, I can't insist. We aren't your original clan, either of you, so, it's your decision.” Serah looked around the circle, seeing the bold, curved designs that many of the other women bore on their skin. Some most were on the upper arm, but some had them in other places instead. They all made her wince, and Tipur laughed loudly.
“Well, that gives me all the answer I need for you, Serah. Don't worry about it. What of you Noel? We can perform the ceremony at any time, if you wish it.” When she looked across to Noel, he was gazing into the fire, deep in thought. At last he spoke.
“No... If your people are like mine, then then mark is part personal, and part the story of the clan. I wasn't just the last hunter of my people. I was the last of my people. So, having no mark at all is my story, unless I can change it.” Without thinking, Serah reached out a hand to twine it with one of Noel's, giving a gentle squeeze as she watched him. He gripped back and managed a small smile as he glanced at her. Tipur didn't see the exchange, but nodded.
“I understand. Don't worry about it then. Everyone here knows your worth, with or without the markings. Spend the night as you want, but don't sleep too late. Mornings are early here.” With another nod to both of them, he stood from the fire and retreated into the dark.
Later on, Noel and Serah were lying on the soft grass of part of the camp that had been set aside for resting. There were a number of shelters, though they were simple and likely temporary, and they had been offered the use of one since the night itself was quite warm. It had a hanging cloth that gave them privacy form the rest of the camp, but not really from each other, and only one large blanket. The other hunters had probably assumed they were a couple.
It was strange. They'd had to share close sleeping quarters many times by now, since they'd been travelling, and at first she'd been especially shy and nervous about the fact. It hadn't taken her long to grow much more comfortable with it, but now, suddenly, she had found herself feeling bashful and embarrassed again, without being able to really explain to herself why. She hadn't brought much when they set out, initially, but one of the more important had been a light, overly large shirt that she liked to sleep in; as much as the dress she had woken up in was comfortable, and impossibly dirt defiant, it wasn't so great for sleeping in, and by design it deprived her of any other chest covering. Sometimes they simply slept where they lay, of course, but she preferred to change for sleep whenever she could.
She'd grown comfortable enough sleeping beside him in just the shirt and her underwear, so it surprised her when the shy nervousness set in while she was changing this time. There wasn't really any way to change the situation, either, so she settled for making sure she was well under the thick fur blanket before calling for Noel to come back in. This left her nothing to do but watch the boy strip down to just his shorts, and appreciate the view. He definitely wasn't as large or as built as Snow, not by a mile, but his proportions were balanced, and every part of him was still toned and strong, and rock solid everywhere that mattered. Well, not quite everywhere that mattered, not at the moment. A flash blush shot across Serah's cheeks as the errant thought both shocked her, and made her heart jump at the same time.
As he slipped under the blanket, she snuggled up to him the same way she had the past few times they had slept, and at once realised where her sudden nerves had come from. With only the all-too-thin night shirt and underwear on, curling up to him like this gave a lot more sensation than when she was dressed. Warmer thoughts crowded in on her nerves and replaced them, leaving her wondering whether to push them away, or let hem linger. The latter won out by default, and the warm glow in her cheeks remained as they settled down.
Noel was lying on his back, hands behind his head, and she had nestled in against him, using his chest as a pillow. Any worry she had had about doing so had faded quickly, replaced by a sense simply of how comfortable it felt, but for the moment, she was doing her best not to think about it too directly.
“Hey Noel... do you want to stay here?” She wasn't sure exactly how he would interpret the question, but at the same time, she wasn't really certain how she meant it either. Noel drew a long, deep breath, then sighed just as slowly. She could hear his heart beating, relaxed and slow.
“Maybe. When this is all over, if I can come back here, it might be nice. You did mean after we find Lightning and fix everything else, right?” His head turned slightly, though surely he'd only be able to see a mass of pink hair from that position. Serah bit her lip.
“Ah, yeah. Mostly. I was wondering if you actually wanted to stop here, too, I guess. If we fix their hunting problem, it looks like a nice way of life.”
“It's tempting, but I know you're not really thinking about giving up and stopping, Serah, and you know I never would, if it would mean abandoning you to go on alone. I can look out at this place, and see how great it is, but, I couldn't ever just forget where it's heading to, in the end, if we don't change it.” He shifted and she felt one of his arms drop to hug her shoulder. She let herself enjoy it, snuggling closer to him. “It's like Tipur said: we're a team, you and I, and it doesn't matter what else comes our way, good or bad, I'm not going to leave you to face it alone. I'll never do that.” There was something deeper in his voice as he reiterated the promise, some heavier memory, she was sure of it, but she didn't press. The words alone were enough to send a tightness through her chest. She was certain he wasn't thinking about Snow at all, when he said it, but her mind couldn't help making the comparison.
“Thanks.”
It was only barely morning when Serah awoke. The first hints of a grey dawn were beginning to creep through the gaps in their shelter's door cloth. She was lying on her side under the blankets, with one arm under her head and the other down behind her, resting on Noel's hip. She could feel his chest pressed to her back, held close by one of his arms draped around her waist. Curling up together for comfort and warmth was one thing, but this was a far more intimate pose than they'd ever woken up in. She blinked and closed her eyes again, trying not to move too much. Even so; it wasn't unpleasant. It was a different sensation that chased a hot blush across her cheeks a moment later; the realisation of something hard pressing against the back of her thighs. It was a simple fact of males some mornings, and she knew Noel was no different, but this was the first time they'd ever woken up so close, with it so... pressing. It should have been embarrassing, but instead she was feeling her heart thumping hard in her chest.
Wearing only a smaller pair of under-shorts, for sleeping, there really wasn't very much material at all between him and her, and it wasn't doing a very good job of disguising the hardness, or the heat, that pressed against her, pulsing randomly every few moments. Noel himself wasn't awake yet, she was sure of that, but rather than thinking about how to avoid an awkward situation, Serah found her thoughts circling around whether it would be ok to do something more with the situation. Thinking about it made it clear that her body wanted to, and she had to admit, it was only a small voice wondering if it would be ok.
She'd already done as much once, herself, though, hadn't she? And Noel had helped her, willingly. This would be the same thing, really, and it would be like returning the kindness, too. Her breathing had grown shorter as her heart quickened; she could recognise the pattern of talking herself into something, and knew that she was going to end up doing... well, something at least. There was a nervous excitement flooding her that still couldn't quite believe what was happening as she uncurled the arm beneath her head and reached down.
She moved as slowly and delicately as she dared, bending and lifting her top leg just enough to reach her hand between and feel for the soft button front of Noel's shorts. It was a loose set of catches anyway; it was a wonder they didn't slip open all on their own. Her breath caught as they came undone at the small tug of her fingers, and the heat straining against the fabric slipped free, rising into her waiting hand. It was thick, in her finger,s and very hard. She tried to blot out any thoughts of comparison from her mind and let her hand slide and stroke the length very slowly as she held it between her thighs.
The urge to press it up against her underwear was relentless, and she could feel the warm yearn building in her own groin too. A part of her, mostly the part between her legs, didn't just want to press and rub him against her underwear; it wanted to pull the underwear off, to take it and... She bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut tighter. That was a want she wasn't ready for; it would be a step too far, when she wasn't certain, but it was impossible to deny that it was a very strong want, all the same.
As she worked her fingers back and forth slowly, her other hand gripped at Noel's side a little tighter, and she let her own hip tilt and rock with small, almost imagined motions. That latter was more for her than him, she realised, but the warmth in her groin was turning to heat, and it wouldn't be long before it turned damp as well, at this rate. Behind her, in the sleep close to waking, Noel moaned quietly, and she felt his breath on the back of her neck. Her fingers on his shaft shifted, letting it press up all the way now, until the length of it was hugged firmly between her finger tips and the soft, giving heat of her groin. She swallowed, her heart racing as the rock of her hips grew.
The arm about her waist tightened, and behind her, she felt Noel's breathing start, before trying to relax again. A rush of anticipation flooded her, unsure what would happen next, and she felt her body tense without meaning to. The next thing she felt was his nose and cheek brushing against her hair, and a slow, languid kiss pressed to her neck. Noel let out a long breath, not quite a moan but more than just a sigh.
“I don't think you're asleep this time, Serah.” His voice sounded a little strange. True he was just waking up, but more than that, he was trying to make it sound amused, while underneath she could hear the uncertain tension straining his power to keep it in check. Come to think of it, she wasn't sure she could trust herself with words, caught in the middle like this. Instead she just shook her head. Her hand had stopped, but a strong pulse from the neglected part made her continue. Noel still didn't return her motions with any of his own, but he kissed her neck again, and a third time.
“Are you sure you're ok with doing this?” The sleep had cleared from his voice quickly, but his words were gentle and soft, if still every bit as nervous as before. She nodded her head slowly, then changed it into a shaking, then nodding again. There was really no better way to articulate the feelings in her heart, or the thoughts in her mind, but Noel chuckled softly, and shifted his arm so that he could hug her properly.
“Well, that makes two of us.” It sounded like he wanted to say more, but she didn't want to trust herself with words while her blood was as hot as this. Instead, she slipped her leg back over his, making the angle better for him to slide against her swiftly dampening underwear while she held his length against her. This time he did groan, and she felt his body move; short, involuntary twitches at first, but growing more comfortable each time as he began to push back against the roll of her hips with his. Serah had to bite her lip to stop herself from gasping aloud. The hand on his waist slipped further to grip at his behind, beginning to encourage him each thrust. Firmer, longer strokes, that was it. A small gasp of effort was muffled against her shoulder and she felt his hand twist upwards until his fingers curled around one breast. He didn't squeeze, so much as just hold her, and rub slowly in time with the rest of their movement, but it was nice and added another layer of sensation she hadn't been expecting, or ready for.
As their movement rubbed and pushed at the folds of her sex, the damp fabric separating them grew wetter, until it almost felt like it wasn't there at all. Her breath trembled and she felt her own thrusts grind back harder against him, her body longing harder for what they were only simulating. Her fingers crept over to hook two fingers either side of the seam and tug the fabric aside, bit by bit, bunching it up to the side until... She couldn't hold back the deep moan that escaped her as she felt his heat sliding across her lips, skin against skin, her arousal coating his length and making him as slick as she already was. Her heart thundered. Oh Goddess, what was she doing? This was too much, surely this was too much. Goddess, she'd said she wouldn't, said it was too far. But it felt so good; she couldn't stop, not now, she needed it. The feel of him so directly against her most intimate places, so close to taking her, with nothing in between, nothing to stop him from... Was she really letting it go this far? If he did... would she stop him? It wouldn't take much... just a slip, really. He could do it, if he wanted to. She knew in that moment, that she wouldn't resist if he did.
Noel's breathing grew harsher, his small pants becoming rougher gasps, his strokes fuller, longer, harder against her. The wet sounds hung in her ears and she kept her eyes closed, focusing on the feeling. She could feel herself close but Noel was closer. His body grew tight, the hand on her breast gripping harder suddenly as he thrust himself hard against her and held her tight, staying like that as his gasps became a series of harsh, restrained cries. When she realised what was happening, Serah brought her hand up to work rapidly at the front of her sex, bringing herself quickly to the same shuddering, trembling conclusion that Noel was in the throes of. She could feel the head of his shaft, pushed up under the front of her underwear, pumping into the fabric. He hadn't taken the liberty her body had ached for; she should feel relieved. Why, then, was the warm afterglow of her climax tinted with vague disappointment?
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Drifting