Title: To Have A Forbidden Desire

Author: TheBlackRaveness

Summary: For a drunk man, Auron is quite coherent—as for Jecht—he finds out a little secret his fellow guardian tried to keep hidden in the dark. Something that all Yevonites shun. (One shot; implied Shounen ai/yaoi)

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy X—nor do I affiliate with Squaresoft/Enix, or whatever the hell it is these days. If I owned either one of them, I'd be a rich girl, making FMVs of my Aurrie Pah just for my own viewing pleasure (NOT LIKE THAT!) I am in no way profiting off this story—it's just for my own sick entertainment.

He sat there, two russet eyes watching the flaming sun set just beyond the watery horizon of Kilika. The soft hues of the night seeping into the burning sky, the small village on the sea slowly settling down for the night's rest. The boastful sniggering of the obnoxious guardian reached his ears, as well with the summoner's compliant laughter. He raised the earth fired jug to his lips, the liquid held inside sloshing around, and the glowering red warrior took a rather large swig—finishing off the fermented rice that was kept inside. His throat burned with sweet agony as the alcohol slid down to his empty stomach, the back of his eyes watered as the warmth began to spread to his entire body. Ah, the joys of intoxication. His vision blurred, just like the colors in the sky, running together where you couldn't tell where the sky ended and the ocean started.

Footsteps that only a blitzer could master, thumped softly on the wooden planks of the jetty, and a large sigh escaped the ostentatious man's lips as he plopped down as gracefully as a drunkard could. "You missed it, Auron!" A hand thumped the crimson knight's solid shoulder, almost sending him over the edge. "Braskie and I were laughin' and havin' a good 'ol time, and yer anti-social arse missed it!" The voice rasped as a defined arm slipped around a scarlet shoulder and one not covered by the worn material.

"Hold your tongue, knave, what right have you to call your Lord such a pet name?" The slumped man grumbled, holding the jug between his legs.

"Holy mother of blitzing, Auron have you been drinking?" A tanned hand waved about the air vigorously trying to rid the strong aroma of fermented rice. "Tight ass—have you been drinking?"

"Leave me alone, Jecht. Why don't you go and get drunk in the bars, to the point where Braska has to save your ass from getting thrown back into jail. Hell, why don't you even get him thrown in jail too! You repulsive bastard." Auron growled, shrugging the arm off his shoulders. Jecht snatched the clay jug from Auron, his eyes growing wide, "Go ahead, drunkard—you're not going to get anything out of it—it's all gone." His head lolled to the side his mahogany eyes meeting a shocked gaze. The blitzer shook the jug, listening even for the remnants of liquid, hearing none, he brought the opening to his nose and sniffed it.

"Sake? You really know how to have a good time by yourself there, Aurrie Cakes." He placed the jug behind him and looked at Auron, "What's botherin' you—if you're even half drunk—"

"Me? Drunk?" Auron flailed his arms out, "Tch!" He fell backwards, his head thudding against the jetty, as he stared up into the heavens that began to sparkle with the glory of the stars. His legs swung restlessly over the planks, his arms sprawled out, and his hair slowly slipping out of that leather strap that held his ebony locks together.

"Auron, yer smashed! What's wrong?" His raspy voice was concerned, "C'mon you don't want Braskie to see ya like this." Jecht watched the drunk man toss his arms lazily over his eyes, his legs still swinging languidly.

"Where's Braska?"

"I sent him off to bed he was tired." He shrugged, trying to gauge what Auron was feeling as he lay there, not moving. Slowly a trimmed arm moved, revealing a lone russet eye, and then another appeared from behind nearly flawless flesh.

"Hnn—he listens to a Zanarkand Drunkard…" He rolled onto his side, his back to the confused blitzer.

"You're jealous…"

"Jealous of what? A knave with no respect or morality for others? Ha! I could never be jealous of you. Ever. Not in your wildest dreams Jecht." Auron scoffed, looking over his shoulder to glare at the man that was his companion.

"—You love him…don't you?" His voice went soft, and the tone was not accusing, nor was it inquiring—it was more of—stating a fact. The silence that greeted his ears confirmed his thought. "You do. Is that why you fuss over him, and want him to stop his pilgrimage?"

"What do you know? You're just a drunkard."

"And so are you at the moment."

"It's none of your business who I love and who I don't."

"So you do love him"

"Piss off Jecht." Auron stood slowly, wobbling, gaining his composure he snatched his Sake jug and unsteadily marched off towards the direction of the inn. Leaving Jecht alone to figure out what had just transpired.

A soft hand firmly gripped the fuming guardian, stopping him in his tracks. Cerulean eyes sparkled in the moonlight, meeting the glazed over russet orbs that belonged to his guardian. The eyes turned away—unable to stand the look of pity that radiated from the summoner. He continued his walk towards the inn, "Stop, Auron."

"As your guardian I cannot deny your commands my Lord." He paused in mid step, listening to Braska sigh heavily.

"I heard the conversation—is it true?" The silence was most unwelcome, "Auron—is it true?"

"What of it my Lord? It's true as the fact you will die if you continue your pilgrimage." His tone was cold, flat, and emotionless. Braska cringed, knowing this was the beginning of what would be the downfall of Auron's emotional well-being. He sighed heavily, placing a gentle hand on the man's shoulder that was turned away from him. Soundlessly, the red warrior turned around, his trench coat fluttering in the haste of the breeze. The lavish robes of the summoner rustled in the ocean zephyr blow, as the calm waves gently lapped against the supports that held up the unique village. The russet gaze refused to meet the glimmering azure eyes that stared down at him. The look of pity was too much for him—he didn't need to see it.

"Auron, look at me." A hand tipped the chiseled chin up, as closed eyes met his intense watch. The sparkling mahogany orbs appeared from under the flesh that concealed the beauty of them. Braska drew the man into his arms, embracing the silently hurting guardian. A cool forehead rested on the summoner's shoulder, as hands gripped a fist full of robes at his side. His heart broke. He had hurt a life long friend in more ways than one. "You know as well as I do—"

"It's against the teachings of Yevon. I know my Lord. I am sorry to have put you in this predicament. I will do my best to squelch these feelings. Good night." Auron turned away, trudging towards the Kilikan forest to be alone.

"I'm so sorry Auron." His whisper danced on the wind, dissipating as it brushed by the red warrior's ears. "I love you too, my friend."