(AN) What I'd like to refer to as a deleted scene from the Subspace Emissary. Focuses on what Marth, Ike and Meta Knight were doing while Lucas and the Pokemon Trainer were battling Galleom. No flames, please. Marth/Ike, Yaoi;Slash;Suggestive themes.


Scorching rays of sunlight beat down onto the weary prince atrociously, evoking subtle pants with every step. He lifted his fingers to brush his thick bangs away from his line of vision. His tunic clung to his lithe frame, his silken hair was sleek and damp, his olive skin glistening; he briefly wondered if the bleak desert would induce the hallucination of some frigid lake, considering that his subtly rational yearning for lingered, ceaseless within his mind.

Though, mirages weren't likely whilst distracted, and fortunately, an agitated groan sounding from one of his allies, Ike, incited him to curve away from the boulder he'd been absently circling and disclose the other's complication.

"Is something wrong?" The royal's flat tone clearly wasn't appreciated by said mercenary, seeing as he solely delivered a glare as he wearily slumped against the rock's wall to sit beside him.

"It's damn hot, Prince Marth. After we defeated Galleom, I reckoned we were heading for a source of water. Not for that masked knight to indecisively abandon us."

If the heat wasn't absorbing nearly all of his sheer aggravation, the Altean presumably would've defended their other teammate with a sharp-tongued retort. But he also resisted the longing to blatantly ignore it, by merely reminding, "Meta Knight is smart, Ike. If he feels he should inspect the site in which Galleom crashed through, there is most likely a good reason."

The taller swordsman lacked speaking after that. Not that Marth minded, anyways. He actually savored the placid silence of the two of them leaning against the mass of rock, his eyes gently closed to conceal himself from the blinding daylight.

"...You must be scalding in that heavy armor."

Marth cast a sidelong glance at Ike, quirking a brow in subtle reaction to the vague suggestion that had filtered the remark, but didn't respond.

However, he did recoil in coherent alarm consequent to the sensation of the other's fingers grazing his silken locks of hair.

"I-Ike." Ineptly attempting to climb to his feet was a scarce sight from the Altean prince. In fact, Ike had never witnessed his impeccable gracefulness falter.
Once he'd finally managed to stand, Marth silently scolded himself, ashamed of the evident blush that had impended upon his cheeks, along with his hectic reaction.

He was grudgingly aware of the sentimental sensation the mercenary's presence induced, and constantly willed himself not to immerse into that fluid, subdued voice, or to flinch every time their skin made contact.

Yes, he was harboring a crush on his handsome ally while the world was being invaded by Subspace. He would've continued to drown himself in scorn, though, realizing that said mercenary was advancing on him whilst wearing a somewhat seductive smirk conclusively drained his concentration.

"You seem rather flustered, Prince Marth."
"I-"
"Did you have disliking in me touching those beautiful locks of hair? I don't think I've felt anything silkier..."

Damn. That swordsman was genuinely skilled at flattery.
But despite the covert elation Marth felt due to the mercenary's actions implying returned attraction, tension formed within his limbs because he continued to approach. Closer...and closer...and not stopping.

"S-stop." There was a faint tingle in Marth's spine, consequent to resisting the urge to inhale the alluring scent that Ike emitted, which was practically impossible seeing as his lean body was mere inches away, looming over him.

"You know, Prince," the mercenary didn't hesitate before brushing his lips against the royal's cheek, whispering seductively into his ear. "Judging by the fact that such subtle contact sent you into a frenzy...I'm starting to presume that you're hiding a certain something, hmm?"

Marth gaped his mouth to speak, but no sound escaped.

The strong mercenary murmuring huskily into his ear, the way his hot breath had tickled his skin was nearly intoxicating, not to mention that his hands were currently clutching his slender shoulders, preventing an attempt to escape.
After some time passed -which was most likely mere seconds- he reluctantly glanced upwardly, forthwith he regretted upon discovering that Ike's expression wasn't glowing with jest, anymore.

Unmistakable lust clouded his gaze; Marth cringed whilst following the mercenary's eyes to his own, lithe body, his enticing curves enhanced by the way his damp tunic clung to his thin frame.

"Ike. Release me at once."
"This heat brought me to realize...how desirable you look." The Altean prince prepared to scowl at the realization that he was being ignored, but instead, released an startled cry as he was forcefully spun around and slammed into the stone wall, his wrists pinned above him.

"I-Ike! What are you doing?"
"I want you, Prince Marth."

The words didn't immediately register to the defenseless swordsman.
They lingered as if an echo, feebly begging for him to react, but to no avail.
Ike wants me? Was the mere thought rehashing in his mind.

Sapphire eyes met Ike's shadowed ones with sentiment of doubt, panic, and furtively, excitement.

The words that he did manage were barely audible. "Please...let me go."
"Not unless you're not enjoying this."

Without warning, the taller swordsman's head snapped forward and aptly captured the Altean's lips with his own, emitting a hungry growl when rewarded with an unintentional moan.

Marth didn't know what to do, let alone to think.

Everything was happening too quickly.
Ike, looming over him, efficiently dominating his mouth with his own, the pressure on one of his wrists receding as the mercenary used one hand to eagerly unlatch his cape, then beginning to remove his breastplate, which was genuinely easy, seeing as he'd loosened it himself after the battle against Galleom.

"I-Ike," he whimpered when the other finally allowed him to breath, though, his planned protest was delayed as he drew in a sharp gasp, in reaction to his armor clattering to the desert's floor and being hastily kicked aside.

"What are you doing, idiot?! That is my dignified clothing, it-it-that cape is made of pure silk, and it will get dirty! Let me go, I-I need-"
"My prince..." Marth's futile struggling ceased. Admittedly, the placidity filtering Ike's words was significantly calming.

"Cease your struggling. You're not going anywhere."

Before the disconcerted Altean could summon up a sensible reply, he bit his lip in prevention of another moan, in response of the mercenary's hand trailing down his hip in an exceedingly sensual motion.

"P-please-ah, yamete..."
His futile pleas only roused Ike further, leading him to the incapability to restrain himself any longer. With a growl of desire, he crammed his lips into the lithe swordsman's once again, using his sturdy chest to hold him in place whilst lightly brushing his fingers against his slender thighs which earned him a shudder.
"You...have no idea..." Ike trailed his lips along the prince's jaw, his husky, lustful confession evoking an enticed tingle in the other's spine. "...How hard it was not to ravish you."

In response to the dominant swordsman nipping the tender skin of his neck, he whispered, "y-you-ah! How can you-ngh, even think like that?"

"You're irresistible, Prince Marth. I wanted to...touch you. I've been restraining my temptations, because of that Star Warrior being around...but now that I've got you all alone...I cannot control myself anymore."

Marth had insufficient time to assimilate what was going to happen to him, inevitably, before his mouth was occupied and the stronger swordsman's hands were slipping underneath his drenched tunic, tracing circles against the satiny skin inside of his hipbone. The sensation stimulated pleasure so unbearable, his only option was to slightly buckle his knees whilst struggling not relinquish his personal restriction.

"Not like this,I cannot do this, I am a prince! Please, no more..."
Regardless of his protests, his shirt was hastily unbuttoned, discarded, and the aroused mercenary's sturdy arms wrapped tightly around his slim waist, pressing his body close against the prince's which merely compelled him into the lithic wall.

"You're mine, princey." The lascivious proclaim incited genuine thrill to surge through Marth's veins, whose insignificant self-control was on the verge of deceasing. Considering that Ike's domineering was evidently increasing by the way his actions enhanced, thriving for further control and briefly yanking off his own shirt and advancing the sensuous touching to inside of his thigh, the Altean irrevocably accepted defeat.

It was when the inevitable moaning of Ike's name was emitting from his lips and the other was passionately forcing him to the ground that an obscurity grasped his attention.
"Wait." Feebly placing a hand on Ike's chest, he craned his neck and strained to see, undeterred by the swordsman crouching over him and his palpable doubt.

"I thought you'd given in, Prince Marth..." He leaned inwardly, nipping the Altean's neck, but did no avail in distracting Marth.

Despite that his matted hair practically shielded his vision, a mere glimpse of an esoteric tank blasting upwardly in the sky was detected, and his urgent writhes nearly caught Ike off guard.

"S-stop moving!"
"Wait, turn around! Look up in the sky!"
The mercenary paused, then smirked at him in a manner of amusement. "Ha ha. Nice try. You're not going to distract me in order to escape, Prince. Just let me..."
Before he could advance his hand any further, a deafening explosion sounded, and on impulse, the mercenary shielded Marth with himself.

The pair crouched in utter silence for some time, solely watching the charcoal clouds of smoke unravel until Marth cast a somewhat smug glance at Ike.

"Told you."


(AN) I lack the skill to properly write romance...I should stick to fluff.

Reviews/comments would be appreciated!