A Forgiving Mistress | By : VegaKapera Category: Final Fantasy Games > Final Fantasy XII Views: 1135 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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 |
It was the warmth that caused him to wake from his slumber, as if his body thought that this pleasure was too exquisite for his mind to miss. Small puffs of warm breath caressed his chest and soft hair brushed against his jaw while relaxed fingers rested on his shoulder. He had forgotten how young Balthier appeared to be when asleep, when his features relaxed and his act crumbled. Basch had not watched Balthier sleep for two full years, the last time had been when they had shared a room in Balfonheim just before they had set out for the Pharos. This was the first time he’d awoken to find the pirate in his bed.
They had seldom had the luxury of beds during that long journey and when they did, rest had been the number one priority. Stolen moments when they were both on guard, the occasional tumble in an alleyway or seeking relief while hiding in the dark, that was what they’d had. Basch missed the kind of life he’d lead back then, before he took the name of a dead man and avowed his loyalty to an empire he had once detested.
The sun was beginning to rise and the color of morning painted its lines across the walls of his chamber, Balthier stirred at his side. Slightly unfocused amber eyes looked up at him and Balthier hummed contently before he yawned.
“Good morning.” Basch mumbled and tried to stop himself from smiling far too widely.
“Morning, Capt’n.” Balthiers voice was husky and Basch couldn’t help but enjoy watching the pirate wrestle with his usually immaculate vowels.
“I had forgotten how much you dislike mornings.” Basch chuckled when Balthier pressed his face against Basch’s shoulder to shield his eyes from the insistent rays of sunlight.
“This time of the day does not bother me; it is the cold that lurks outside the covers that I simply cannot stand.” Balthier’s lips touched the white line of a fading scar when he spoke. “I must say that you are delightfully warm, not to mention that you have a pleasant scent.”
“I smell of sweat and of sex.” Basch shook his head but fell still when the pirate’s limbs tightened their embrace.
“It suits you.” Balthier smiled and Basch could feel the smirk that inevitably played upon Balthier’s lips. “I might have to spend the night more often if every morning rewards me with this, even though you never invite me to.”
“I would not dare to take your skies from you, Pirate.”
“That doesn’t mean that you cannot borrow me every now and then.” Balthier’s tongue begun to trace the outline of a particularly evident scar on Basch’s shoulder. “The skies is a very forgiving mistress, she always forgives me when I’ve ventured away from her.”
“I can see why that relationship has worked for so many years.” Basch laughed and softly kissed the pirate’s frown.
“At least she doesn’t announce her own death once every couple of years.” Balthier turned his head upwards and offered his lips to Basch.
The kiss tasted of morning, of the madhu they had drunken the night before and yet he soon found that the taste that was the very essence of Balthier overpowered any other taste he experienced. His hands began to roam across the warm skin of Balthier’s back and the pirate shifted his weight so that Basch was spared the awkwardness of trying to use an arm that was being pinned downed by the weight of another.
It was Balthier who broke the kiss to reach for the ornate bottle he’d placed on the floor after it had last been used, Basch watched with great interest as Balthier moved and he once again thought of how much his world had changed in these past few years. Had someone told him of this when he had gone to the fortress of Nalbina in that desperate attempt to save his king, he would not have believed them. Had they told him of this when the chains cut into the skin of his wrists, ankles and neck, he would have laughed, had he only had the strength to do so.
“You are lost in thought again, Basch.” Balthier’s eyes turned back to him and Basch couldn’t help but smile to see the usually refined man with his upper body hanging off the bed, supported and elevated by pushing himself up from the floor with his arms, sheets wrapped around long legs and a small pout adorned slightly swollen lips. “I can hear the wheels of your brain turning even from this distance.”
“Old habits die hard.” Basch calmly watched Balthier as the younger man crawled back into bed and uncorked the vial. “What on earth is that?”
“Gun oil from Balfonheim. No better lubricant in the world.”
“I know better than to ask if you are jesting.” Basch frowned. “Have you used it on your lovers before?”
“Certainly.” Balthier grinned. “It went really well during the night, but when he discovered what it was the next morning he was suddenly very hesitant. Now, since we both know that it’s a perfectly good lubricant and that it will not harm either of us, how do you feel like doing this?”
“Why not switch from how we did this last night?”
“Excellent idea, my dear Judge Magister.” Balthier’s grin widened while he drizzled the oil over the fingers on his left hand. “I hope your feelings towards my rings have not changed.”
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