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rose_in_winter2024-10-11 09:58 pm
lassarina) wrote in rose_in_winter2024-10-11 09:58 pm
Entry tags:
[FFVI/FFXII] The Invaluable Art of Knowing When to Fold, Chapter Five
Characters: Balthier, Celes Chere, Locke Cole (Celes/Locke, Balthier/Celes/Locke)
Rating: NC-17
Contains: Canon-typical violence, explicit sex
Wordcount: 13,727
Notes: Yeah so I started this in 2009, and then it just sat there for fifteen years, but the idea never left me alone, so here we are. This crossover places characters from FF6 into Ivalice as though they have always been there; personalities remain intact, although backstories may have altered.
Beta: none
Summary: One of the most valuable lessons a young sky pirate will ever learn is when it is wisest to simply cut his losses and walk away.
Chapter Index
The door clicked closed behind him and Balthier tried to steady himself with a deep breath. It was Celes who moved first, decisive as ever. She pulled Balthier close, her lips cool and dry against his. She tasted of the wine they'd been drinking and sweet desert peaches. For a long moment he froze, unsure if this was reality or he but dreamed it, and then his arms of their own accord lifted and wrapped around her, and he kissed her back, feeling her body warm and firm against his.
Clever agile hands tugged at his vest, unfastening the buttons and tugging it away behind him, as Locke nudged them toward the center of the room. HIs breath was warm against Balthier's ear, and he caught Balthier's earlobe and tugged it with his teeth. Shivers ran from there straight to his cock, and he couldn't decide how best to touch both of them at once, so his hands roamed indecisively over warm skin and cool leather, hard metal armor and soft cloth. Celes's hair was cool and soft against his hands, and he ran his fingers through it and shivered at the sensation as it slid over the sensitive skin between his fingers. She made a pleased little sound when he tugged at her hair and kissed him harder, so he slid both hands into her hair just above the base of her skull and slowly drew his hands all the way down, savoring the way she pressed closer, trapping Locke's busy hands between their bodies.
He couldn't give all his attention to one and not the other, so he turned within the circle of Celes's arms to kiss Locke. The prickle of the beginnings of Locke's beard against his skin was a pleasant contrast to surprisingly soft lips and a tongue that sought out every sensitive spot he hadn't known he had. He kissed along Locke's jaw to his ear, where a half-dozen silver rings were cool against his tongue. Locke made a soft desperate noise when Balthier slowly licked the tiny spaces in between each ring, and flexed his fingers deep into the muscles of Balthier's shoulder even as Celes was unfastening the tiny buttons on his shirt and sliding cool hands beneath the linen.
From the sounds Locke was making every time Balthier tongued one of his earrings, Balthier ought to consider getting a few piercings of his own. He found the knot securing Locke's dark bandanna and unfastened it, sliding his fingers through soft blond hair. Locke's tongue, agile as his fingers, teased along Balthier's jawline and then curled around his earlobe, and Balthier almost staggered, especially since Celes's hands were exploring just under his belt.
"Are we—" He stuttered, tried to clear his thoughts, which was difficult with two people seemingly invested in finding every inch of skin that could generate a reaction. "Should we—ahh—-relocate?"
"There's a floor right here," Locke observed, and then suited action to words, sinking to his knees and nuzzling Balthier's belt.
Celes stepped around until she was standing behind Locke and leaned in to kiss Balthier again, even as Locke unfastened his belt. Balthier could scarcely believe this was actually happening. He was almost too shy—perhaps that wasn't the word—to take the initiative, but he had certainly taken punishments for less desirable actions, so he steeled himself and reached for the fastenings of Celes's armor. She did not seem displeased—indeed, she even turned so as to make reaching the buckles easier—and he took care to pull the armor away from her rather than let it crash down upon Locke's head. She piled it to the side and turned back to kiss him again. He ran his hands up her arms, admiring the weight of muscle beneath his fingertips. His hands slid down her back and up underneath the soft fabric of her shirt, gliding over cool ridged scars and soft, warm skin, until he found the edge of the binding she wore over her breasts. The skin beneath was silky and warm when he unwound it and let it fall. His hands stuttered and he moaned when Locke's tongue traced a hot, wet line at the waist of his pants.
He had to let go of Celes to get his boots out of the way, and out of the corner of his eye he saw her easy strength as she pulled Locke to his feet for a kiss. Locke half staggered, dazed, when she released him to deal with her own boots. It took Locke a moment to bend and start on his. Balthier automatically tried to turn his gaze away before remembering that here, now, he was allowed to look. He gave Locke a nudge toward the bed when the other man straightened from dealing with his boots.
Locke smirked at him. "You can be more forceful than that, you know," he said.
Balthier took him at his word and shoved, following him onto the bed. The many decorations on Locke's vest dug into his skin when he pressed him down into the mattress, biting at his collarbones with perhaps more force than he might have used without the invitation. Locke made a noise deep in his throat and grabbed at Balthier's hair and shoulder, pressing him closer. Some pointy bit of metal attached to Locke's vest hit his nipple uncomfortably, but he ignored it, sucking at the skin under his lips with enough force to leave a mark. He wanted, very much, to leave several. His tongue found a thin line of scar tissue that disappeared beneath the edge of Locke's shirt, and he nuzzled at the opening, following it down. A sharp-edged carved bead scraped his jaw, so he unfastened the vest without straying from the skin he was tasting. Locke wriggled, half-dislodging him, but as it was for him to efficiently strip vest and shirt off, Balthier waited it out. The clothing tossed aside, Locke looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, and wriggled in an entirely different way. Balthier's breath caught at the slow, teasing pressure against his cock.
Maybe leather pants weren't such a great plan for a pirate after all. They fit too closely at the moment.
Celes's cool fingers slipped into the tight space beneath his pants, and he knew the noise he made was frantic as he arched into her hand. Locke took the opportunity to slide his thigh between Balthier's, so that no matter how he moved, he was rubbing against one of them.
He couldn't think.
"That's better," Locke murmured in his ear, right before his teeth scraped the edge of it and sent heat shooting straight to Balthier's cock. He fumbled with the overly complicated, overly decorated fastening to Locke's pants, heard a button pop off and roll away across the floor, but at last he got all of the laces unwound from the buttons and each other and could slide his hand inside, not bothering to move the pants more--yet. He had plans for that. Locke bit his ear again, harder, when Balthier's palm stroked slowly over the head of his cock. He did it again, feeling the silky beads of moisture on his hand, and Locke's fingers dug hard into his shoulder.
It occurred to him, distantly, that they were ignoring Celes. When he twisted toward her, he found that she had discarded all of her clothing and was leaning back against the pillows, a glorious snow queen with her hair loose and her hand--his gaze followed the line of her arm and he swallowed hard. She had her hand between her legs.
Locke laughed quietly and Balthier realized he was staring. He scarcely knew where to look. Locke gave him a shove in Celes's direction and he caught himself before he fell across her. She met his gaze with a challenging tilt to her chin and a faint curve of a smile to her mouth.
He moved slowly, not wanting to overstep, and started halfway up her arm, kissing up, soft skin that tasted of leather and a bit of sweat over gorgeous flexing muscle. Her breasts under his lips were firm and silky, as they had been under his hands, and he found that she liked a sharp nip on the curving swells of flesh but not on her nipples, where she guided him to a whisper-light touch of his mouth that had her making a strangled sound in her throat.
There were scars on her torso, some from weapons he could recognize and some undoubtedly from beasts. He didn't make a point of avoiding them, but neither did he linger. He placed a cautious kiss at her navel, and she moved, her legs falling wider apart so that he could see, and scent, her.
He leaned back to look up at her, and her lips curved in a challenging grin. She moved her hand away from her mound. He took it as assent, and lowered his mouth toward her dark blond curls, where he hesitated a moment before he committed and pressed his tongue against her.
Sharp, salt taste and slick moisture beneath his tongue, familiar and new all at once. She liked just the tip of his tongue, barely touching, on her clit; she liked firmer strokes and indeed the gentle pull of his lips elsewhere. Soon enough the sounds she made were less giving direction and more enjoyment, and he chased those, following every gasp and the twitch of her thigh muscles against his shoulders. He ran his hand gently up the inside of her thigh, his fingers pressing at her entrance, and then he fumbled when he felt Locke's warm, calloused hand wrap firmly around his cock.
"Don't stop," Celes said, and he wasn't sure which of them she addressed, but he obeyed. Locke seemed to be interested in teasing him, rather than bringing him off immediately. Balthier resettled himself and slid first one finger, then a second into Celes, finding where she liked the upward press of his fingers and how to match it with the pressure of his mouth. She had one hand tight in his hair, pinning his mouth against her, and he thought she sounded as if she was getting close. Locke was making it harder for him to focus the closer Celes sounded, and Balthier half wished he could push the other man's hand away and focus completely on what he was doing. Still, he found himself rocking forward into Locke's hand as his tongue worked faster, until Celes made a short, sharp sound and arched hard into him, her legs quaking and pressing tight against him. Then she let go of his hair and fell back, and he lifted his head slowly. Locke had released him the moment Celes came, and she was gorgeous, flushed and panting and relaxed, with pleasure still dark in her eyes.
The situation seemed to call for some clever quip, but he had none--and then he had not the will to think of one, either, as Locke's tongue swept flat and slow over the head of his cock. Balthier couldn't stifle the moan.
"He likes to hear you," Celes said, still a touch breathless, and it took him a moment to realize what she had said because it turned out Locke was quite clever with more than just his hands. The whole situation seemed unreal, but he was loath to disturb the dream, so he gave over to Locke's mouth and hands, quick to find the rhythm that worked best, and in no time at all, Balthier was gasping and cursing, one hand gripping Locke's arm where he was braced on it, and Locke slowed just enough to have Balthier seriously considering begging. Words were slow to form; he knew he made a sound that might have been called a whimper.
"Locke," Celes murmured, her hands sliding over Balthier's shoulders and teasing at his nipples, which had never felt so sensitive before.
Locke chuckled and then drew Balthier's cock fully into his mouth, setting a steady rhythm, his hand wrapped around Balthier's shaft. He could not have lasted long like that, but it was Celes's mouth on his ear that tipped him over the edge, and he spilled into Locke's mouth and onto his hand while his vision went black and red. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing in every inch of his body. For just a moment, the thousand calculations and efforts in his mind went quiet.
Locke lifted his head and smirked at them both. "Don't I get a turn?"
Celes moved fast as a striking coeurl, launching herself into Locke and rolling him onto his back, with her kneeling atop him. Draped in the warm languor of pleasure, Balthier watched her adjust her position to take Locke in, and then she began to move. Locke immediately slid a hand between them, the flex of his shoulder muscle suggesting the play of his fingers against her clit, and Celes hissed out a sharp breath. Her next movement made Locke moan, and then she was riding him hard, as he rose to meet her. Balthier watched the tension coiling through both of them. It was Locke who broke first, with a strangled shout and his free hand clenching hard enough on Celes's hip to leave a bruise. She did not stop, even when he made a keening sound and clutched at her, a rough mix of pleas and cries that could have been pleasure or pain. Locke was shuddering beneath her, his hands grasping frantically and landing on nothing, until she took pity on him and slid her own hand between her legs. It was only a moment before she, too, was shuddering with pleasure.
The three of them lay there, bodies cooling and breath slowing, and Balthier shoved down a pang of jealousy at how Locke drew Celes down onto him, her head resting on his shoulder. He was the interloper here, he reminded himself.
"Come over here," Locke said, then paused. "Unless you don't like to be touched after?"
"I--no, I don't dislike--" Balthier stuttered and chose action instead, shifting closer to them. Celes reached out to drape one arm over his chest, fingers curled gently over his shoulder, the tip of her thumb making small circles on his collarbone.
"All right?" Celes asked, and with a start, he realized she meant it for him.
"More than," he said, and then didn't know what else to say.
"Good." Her faint smile was sleepy. "We'll talk more in the morning, then."
"After all," Locke said, "there's a lot to learn--including, I might add, when it is wiser to fold."
"I don't think that turned out so badly, do you?" Balthier roused himself to taunt.
Celes laughed. "Yes, but that was a particular circumstance."
"I look forward to our continued partnership," he said, and then bit his tongue, for he'd not meant to speak that assumption--that desire--aloud.
Locke mumbled into Celes's hair and snaked his arm under Balthier's neck. Balthier turned toward them, pressing up against them for warmth as much as the comfort of this moment, and fell into dreams of card games and the Strahl slicing through the air with the three of them aboard, bound for another adventure.
~*~ Fin ~*~
Rating: NC-17
Contains: Canon-typical violence, explicit sex
Wordcount: 13,727
Notes: Yeah so I started this in 2009, and then it just sat there for fifteen years, but the idea never left me alone, so here we are. This crossover places characters from FF6 into Ivalice as though they have always been there; personalities remain intact, although backstories may have altered.
Beta: none
Summary: One of the most valuable lessons a young sky pirate will ever learn is when it is wisest to simply cut his losses and walk away.
Chapter Index
The door clicked closed behind him and Balthier tried to steady himself with a deep breath. It was Celes who moved first, decisive as ever. She pulled Balthier close, her lips cool and dry against his. She tasted of the wine they'd been drinking and sweet desert peaches. For a long moment he froze, unsure if this was reality or he but dreamed it, and then his arms of their own accord lifted and wrapped around her, and he kissed her back, feeling her body warm and firm against his.
Clever agile hands tugged at his vest, unfastening the buttons and tugging it away behind him, as Locke nudged them toward the center of the room. HIs breath was warm against Balthier's ear, and he caught Balthier's earlobe and tugged it with his teeth. Shivers ran from there straight to his cock, and he couldn't decide how best to touch both of them at once, so his hands roamed indecisively over warm skin and cool leather, hard metal armor and soft cloth. Celes's hair was cool and soft against his hands, and he ran his fingers through it and shivered at the sensation as it slid over the sensitive skin between his fingers. She made a pleased little sound when he tugged at her hair and kissed him harder, so he slid both hands into her hair just above the base of her skull and slowly drew his hands all the way down, savoring the way she pressed closer, trapping Locke's busy hands between their bodies.
He couldn't give all his attention to one and not the other, so he turned within the circle of Celes's arms to kiss Locke. The prickle of the beginnings of Locke's beard against his skin was a pleasant contrast to surprisingly soft lips and a tongue that sought out every sensitive spot he hadn't known he had. He kissed along Locke's jaw to his ear, where a half-dozen silver rings were cool against his tongue. Locke made a soft desperate noise when Balthier slowly licked the tiny spaces in between each ring, and flexed his fingers deep into the muscles of Balthier's shoulder even as Celes was unfastening the tiny buttons on his shirt and sliding cool hands beneath the linen.
From the sounds Locke was making every time Balthier tongued one of his earrings, Balthier ought to consider getting a few piercings of his own. He found the knot securing Locke's dark bandanna and unfastened it, sliding his fingers through soft blond hair. Locke's tongue, agile as his fingers, teased along Balthier's jawline and then curled around his earlobe, and Balthier almost staggered, especially since Celes's hands were exploring just under his belt.
"Are we—" He stuttered, tried to clear his thoughts, which was difficult with two people seemingly invested in finding every inch of skin that could generate a reaction. "Should we—ahh—-relocate?"
"There's a floor right here," Locke observed, and then suited action to words, sinking to his knees and nuzzling Balthier's belt.
Celes stepped around until she was standing behind Locke and leaned in to kiss Balthier again, even as Locke unfastened his belt. Balthier could scarcely believe this was actually happening. He was almost too shy—perhaps that wasn't the word—to take the initiative, but he had certainly taken punishments for less desirable actions, so he steeled himself and reached for the fastenings of Celes's armor. She did not seem displeased—indeed, she even turned so as to make reaching the buckles easier—and he took care to pull the armor away from her rather than let it crash down upon Locke's head. She piled it to the side and turned back to kiss him again. He ran his hands up her arms, admiring the weight of muscle beneath his fingertips. His hands slid down her back and up underneath the soft fabric of her shirt, gliding over cool ridged scars and soft, warm skin, until he found the edge of the binding she wore over her breasts. The skin beneath was silky and warm when he unwound it and let it fall. His hands stuttered and he moaned when Locke's tongue traced a hot, wet line at the waist of his pants.
He had to let go of Celes to get his boots out of the way, and out of the corner of his eye he saw her easy strength as she pulled Locke to his feet for a kiss. Locke half staggered, dazed, when she released him to deal with her own boots. It took Locke a moment to bend and start on his. Balthier automatically tried to turn his gaze away before remembering that here, now, he was allowed to look. He gave Locke a nudge toward the bed when the other man straightened from dealing with his boots.
Locke smirked at him. "You can be more forceful than that, you know," he said.
Balthier took him at his word and shoved, following him onto the bed. The many decorations on Locke's vest dug into his skin when he pressed him down into the mattress, biting at his collarbones with perhaps more force than he might have used without the invitation. Locke made a noise deep in his throat and grabbed at Balthier's hair and shoulder, pressing him closer. Some pointy bit of metal attached to Locke's vest hit his nipple uncomfortably, but he ignored it, sucking at the skin under his lips with enough force to leave a mark. He wanted, very much, to leave several. His tongue found a thin line of scar tissue that disappeared beneath the edge of Locke's shirt, and he nuzzled at the opening, following it down. A sharp-edged carved bead scraped his jaw, so he unfastened the vest without straying from the skin he was tasting. Locke wriggled, half-dislodging him, but as it was for him to efficiently strip vest and shirt off, Balthier waited it out. The clothing tossed aside, Locke looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, and wriggled in an entirely different way. Balthier's breath caught at the slow, teasing pressure against his cock.
Maybe leather pants weren't such a great plan for a pirate after all. They fit too closely at the moment.
Celes's cool fingers slipped into the tight space beneath his pants, and he knew the noise he made was frantic as he arched into her hand. Locke took the opportunity to slide his thigh between Balthier's, so that no matter how he moved, he was rubbing against one of them.
He couldn't think.
"That's better," Locke murmured in his ear, right before his teeth scraped the edge of it and sent heat shooting straight to Balthier's cock. He fumbled with the overly complicated, overly decorated fastening to Locke's pants, heard a button pop off and roll away across the floor, but at last he got all of the laces unwound from the buttons and each other and could slide his hand inside, not bothering to move the pants more--yet. He had plans for that. Locke bit his ear again, harder, when Balthier's palm stroked slowly over the head of his cock. He did it again, feeling the silky beads of moisture on his hand, and Locke's fingers dug hard into his shoulder.
It occurred to him, distantly, that they were ignoring Celes. When he twisted toward her, he found that she had discarded all of her clothing and was leaning back against the pillows, a glorious snow queen with her hair loose and her hand--his gaze followed the line of her arm and he swallowed hard. She had her hand between her legs.
Locke laughed quietly and Balthier realized he was staring. He scarcely knew where to look. Locke gave him a shove in Celes's direction and he caught himself before he fell across her. She met his gaze with a challenging tilt to her chin and a faint curve of a smile to her mouth.
He moved slowly, not wanting to overstep, and started halfway up her arm, kissing up, soft skin that tasted of leather and a bit of sweat over gorgeous flexing muscle. Her breasts under his lips were firm and silky, as they had been under his hands, and he found that she liked a sharp nip on the curving swells of flesh but not on her nipples, where she guided him to a whisper-light touch of his mouth that had her making a strangled sound in her throat.
There were scars on her torso, some from weapons he could recognize and some undoubtedly from beasts. He didn't make a point of avoiding them, but neither did he linger. He placed a cautious kiss at her navel, and she moved, her legs falling wider apart so that he could see, and scent, her.
He leaned back to look up at her, and her lips curved in a challenging grin. She moved her hand away from her mound. He took it as assent, and lowered his mouth toward her dark blond curls, where he hesitated a moment before he committed and pressed his tongue against her.
Sharp, salt taste and slick moisture beneath his tongue, familiar and new all at once. She liked just the tip of his tongue, barely touching, on her clit; she liked firmer strokes and indeed the gentle pull of his lips elsewhere. Soon enough the sounds she made were less giving direction and more enjoyment, and he chased those, following every gasp and the twitch of her thigh muscles against his shoulders. He ran his hand gently up the inside of her thigh, his fingers pressing at her entrance, and then he fumbled when he felt Locke's warm, calloused hand wrap firmly around his cock.
"Don't stop," Celes said, and he wasn't sure which of them she addressed, but he obeyed. Locke seemed to be interested in teasing him, rather than bringing him off immediately. Balthier resettled himself and slid first one finger, then a second into Celes, finding where she liked the upward press of his fingers and how to match it with the pressure of his mouth. She had one hand tight in his hair, pinning his mouth against her, and he thought she sounded as if she was getting close. Locke was making it harder for him to focus the closer Celes sounded, and Balthier half wished he could push the other man's hand away and focus completely on what he was doing. Still, he found himself rocking forward into Locke's hand as his tongue worked faster, until Celes made a short, sharp sound and arched hard into him, her legs quaking and pressing tight against him. Then she let go of his hair and fell back, and he lifted his head slowly. Locke had released him the moment Celes came, and she was gorgeous, flushed and panting and relaxed, with pleasure still dark in her eyes.
The situation seemed to call for some clever quip, but he had none--and then he had not the will to think of one, either, as Locke's tongue swept flat and slow over the head of his cock. Balthier couldn't stifle the moan.
"He likes to hear you," Celes said, still a touch breathless, and it took him a moment to realize what she had said because it turned out Locke was quite clever with more than just his hands. The whole situation seemed unreal, but he was loath to disturb the dream, so he gave over to Locke's mouth and hands, quick to find the rhythm that worked best, and in no time at all, Balthier was gasping and cursing, one hand gripping Locke's arm where he was braced on it, and Locke slowed just enough to have Balthier seriously considering begging. Words were slow to form; he knew he made a sound that might have been called a whimper.
"Locke," Celes murmured, her hands sliding over Balthier's shoulders and teasing at his nipples, which had never felt so sensitive before.
Locke chuckled and then drew Balthier's cock fully into his mouth, setting a steady rhythm, his hand wrapped around Balthier's shaft. He could not have lasted long like that, but it was Celes's mouth on his ear that tipped him over the edge, and he spilled into Locke's mouth and onto his hand while his vision went black and red. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing in every inch of his body. For just a moment, the thousand calculations and efforts in his mind went quiet.
Locke lifted his head and smirked at them both. "Don't I get a turn?"
Celes moved fast as a striking coeurl, launching herself into Locke and rolling him onto his back, with her kneeling atop him. Draped in the warm languor of pleasure, Balthier watched her adjust her position to take Locke in, and then she began to move. Locke immediately slid a hand between them, the flex of his shoulder muscle suggesting the play of his fingers against her clit, and Celes hissed out a sharp breath. Her next movement made Locke moan, and then she was riding him hard, as he rose to meet her. Balthier watched the tension coiling through both of them. It was Locke who broke first, with a strangled shout and his free hand clenching hard enough on Celes's hip to leave a bruise. She did not stop, even when he made a keening sound and clutched at her, a rough mix of pleas and cries that could have been pleasure or pain. Locke was shuddering beneath her, his hands grasping frantically and landing on nothing, until she took pity on him and slid her own hand between her legs. It was only a moment before she, too, was shuddering with pleasure.
The three of them lay there, bodies cooling and breath slowing, and Balthier shoved down a pang of jealousy at how Locke drew Celes down onto him, her head resting on his shoulder. He was the interloper here, he reminded himself.
"Come over here," Locke said, then paused. "Unless you don't like to be touched after?"
"I--no, I don't dislike--" Balthier stuttered and chose action instead, shifting closer to them. Celes reached out to drape one arm over his chest, fingers curled gently over his shoulder, the tip of her thumb making small circles on his collarbone.
"All right?" Celes asked, and with a start, he realized she meant it for him.
"More than," he said, and then didn't know what else to say.
"Good." Her faint smile was sleepy. "We'll talk more in the morning, then."
"After all," Locke said, "there's a lot to learn--including, I might add, when it is wiser to fold."
"I don't think that turned out so badly, do you?" Balthier roused himself to taunt.
Celes laughed. "Yes, but that was a particular circumstance."
"I look forward to our continued partnership," he said, and then bit his tongue, for he'd not meant to speak that assumption--that desire--aloud.
Locke mumbled into Celes's hair and snaked his arm under Balthier's neck. Balthier turned toward them, pressing up against them for warmth as much as the comfort of this moment, and fell into dreams of card games and the Strahl slicing through the air with the three of them aboard, bound for another adventure.
~*~ Fin ~*~