Pairing: Luke x Ion
Setting: Early on in the one month timeskip.
Spoilers: Some, mostly regarding both characters' pasts.
Rating: NC-17 for sex.
Disclaimer: Tales of the Abyss is the property of Namco, not me - if your name happens to be Anise Tatlin, you should count your blessings for that.
Névé - a young, granular type of snow which has been partially melted, refrozen and compacted. Névé that survives a full season is called firn; firn becomes glacial ice.
He was kissing Ion, and Luke couldn't for the life of himself say why.
Looking back, it all seemed to blur together, like a glitch in time. They had to have been sitting together for at least an hour, likely more than that, since the delicate rapping had sounded against his door and the unmistakeable voice had asked if he were awake. At first he had thought the Fon Master had something of importance to discuss with him and perhaps that was his original pretense. Somehow they had ended up on the bed, gazing out at the snowy streets of Keterburg, brightly lit and dotted with people, largely flushed and boisterous on their way back from the casino.
The world outside had managed to catch its first breath since coming close to complete destruction, yet he knew they had been discussing something mundane, laughing...gels, that was it. They had been talking about gels and how the ones sold here weren't as sweet as in the south. When the clock struck one, Ion's head had been on his shoulder, and that was nothing, they'd sat like that before – and then lips were brushing his cheek.
He'd started, looked down at him and been surprised not by the gesture so much as the fear in the Fon Master's green eyes, the look of panic Luke had never before seen in him - not when armed guards flanked him in the custody of some enemy, not even when monsters were barreling down on him. He looked as though he'd bet his very life on the outcome of that one simple peck on the cheek.
He hadn't apologized, though Luke could swear he was fighting off the urge, just sat there gripping the hem of the white jacket, looking as soft and sweet and innocent as everyone always assumed he was, though Luke knew better. And before he knew it, the Fon Master's face had been in his hands.
So here they were kissing, had been kissing, and it was enough to make Luke wonder why they had ever bothered doing anything else. Ion's hands were in his hair, curling and uncurling his fingertips to play with the strands, and he kept moaning softly as the elder replica ravaged his mouth. Luke wasn't sure why, because he honestly had no clue what he was doing; exchanging kissing tips in the garden with Guy was a far cry from exchanging the real thing on the bed, in a city miles to the north of home, with his jacket already wrinkling on the floor. He couldn't have been doing too badly, however, liked the way Ion's grip tightened on his hair every time he curled his tongue.
Ion broke away for breath first, which didn't surprise him, brushing his nose against the older replica's as he panted gently. "Luke..."
Forehead to forehead, his own voice sounded distant to him, dreamlike. "Yeah?"
In the end, Luke loved everything about Ion. He loved the entire anachronism of him, the way his small, thin frame and airy voice concealed a backbone of solid iron and granite, willing to take on most anything, even when it seemed far beyond him, and genuinely believe he could. He loved his capacity to see the best in anyone; hell, he'd been the only one, save maybe Mieu, to see it in Luke himself when no one else had – when no one else should have. Loved his gentle eyes, his patience. And perhaps most of all, he loved the way Ion could be all of those things at once, the purest person on the planet... and then turn around and surprise him.
Ion kissed him again, and again, fleeting and hungry. "More. Please, Luke."
He opened his mouth to reply, but managed only a faint, reedy whine that he really never thought he was capable of issuing. Pushing the free-flowing aquamarine strands aside, he latched his mouth onto the side of Ion's neck, sucking hard at the spot just above the collarbone where he knew (hoped) the high collar of the silky outer garment would eventually cover it up. That was the last thing they needed, a scandal in the holy land. Anise furious at him – or Lorelei forbid, Jade. The thought was enough to make him cease at once, tracing the spot with his tongue apologetically.
"It's alright," Ion assured him. Luke looked up to find him breathless and smiling, and saw that his lower lip had a faint indentation where it had apparently been bitten into. "You can mark me if you want. If anyone asks, I'll tell them I ran into a door. Or fell out of bed."
Luke face-palmed. "That makes it sound like I hit you."
"You would never hit me." He sat up, taking the older replica with him, effectively shutting him up as soft hands were worked beneath the hem of his tight black under-jacket. He tugged it up and over until they were as bare-chested as one another and Ion threading his arms around the elder. Luke instinctively embraced him, running his hands down the boy's back while managing not to flinch...so thin, the brittle bird-bones too close to the surface of that milky white skin.
He heard the gasp when his hands wandered too low, heard it turn into the faintest whimper when he was brave enough to venture lower, and then Ion couldn't stop whimpering, shaking his head against his shoulder. Luke's hands were on the waistband of his leggings a second before the boy could reach them, peeling them down inch by inch.
"Geeze, Ion, how do you survive in these?" He muttered as he worked the skintight things away, hoping they didn't tear. Ion lay back against the sheets as they reached the knee, gratefully watching them come away.
"I'm used to it." Settling against the pillows with a smirk, he parted his thighs and Luke could see just how hard he'd become. Throat dry, he reached out to caress a pale calf, the slow upward slide of his hand a marker of his own nerves more than any desire to tease, until his hand was wrapping around the Fon Master's erection. It fit neatly into his fist, and Ion gulped, gripping the sheets at his side. Luke's own arousal throbbed painfully against his trousers as he met his soon-to-be-lover's eyes.
"Like...just like this?" He slid his hand slowly up and down along the shaft, the way he would at home in his room with visions of some cute girl (and the occasional boy) plastered across his mind's eye. Ion nodded quickly, spread his legs to give him more room, and Luke was reassured. Nothing too different here...just as hot and hard as his own, a little smaller, but smooth and dripping around the tip, and this was simple, this was good. He took his hand away just long enough to spit in the palm; when he started stroking again, Ion clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the resulting cry.
The boy looked good like this, he thought, with his alabaster skin flushed and hips jerking hungrily into Luke's hand. Something healthier, more natural, than the porcelain doll made up and pushed to the head of the order.
'Later,' he thought. 'We can go back to being ourselves later.'
Ion's stifled moans were just beginning to peak towards the point of no return when a noise from the hallway froze them both. A set of footsteps was coming down the hallway, the floorboards creaking as if to protest being stepped on at such a late hour. Even as he remembered that there were other guests at this hotel, strangers who probably enjoyed glasses of water and last-minute trips to the restaurant and that some would consider this to be early, Luke could not help staring at the door he had had no reason to lock when Ion first called on him. Could not help hearing the mutual pounding of their hearts...surely it was loud enough to bring attention to their room?
The footsteps cast a shadow along the crack of the door, then passed right on by.
Luke felt incredibly stupid.
He turned back to Ion, who looked almost roguish with his hair falling down and that uncharacteristic smirk on his face. "You look so guilty, Luke. They wouldn't have entered without knocking."
"Maybe not your room," he replied, feeling himself blush. "But definitely mine. It's happened before."
Shaking his head, Ion pulled him down by the biceps, peppering everything from the bridge of his nose to his lips to his chin with tiny, feathery kisses. Having earlier pulled his hands away as though the younger replica were something sharp, Luke eagerly slid a hand down his small chest, making a beeline for the juncture of his thighs – only to be taken aback when he found his wrist gently stayed.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all. But I was thinking...maybe you wanted to do something a bit more intimate?"
It took Luke a moment to realize he was staring blankly. "I thought that's what we were doing."
Ion shook his head. "I know. Forget I said anything."
"No, no. Tell me." The boy hesitated, and Luke took his hand, squeezing it gently. "Ion, I'm here because I want to be intimate with you. So if there's something more intimate than...oh." Ion averted his gaze awkwardly, and for the second time that night, Luke felt stupid. He wasn't sure why it hadn't hit him earlier. That was, after all, the other thing he had discussed with Guy in the garden – and looking back, he wished he hadn't cut his friend off sometime around the word "lubricant." "You actually want to do that?"
"Not if you don't," came the quick reply.
"Stop being so selfless. Of course I do. It's just...geeze, Ion, that's got to hurt."
He picked at a stray thread on the pillowcase. Always draped beneath long sleeves, Luke had never noticed how thin his wrists were. "Maybe just a little. It wouldn't be so bad...not with you, I mean."
Luke's heart gave a twist and for just a moment, he was standing in the dappled sunlight of the Cheagle Woods once again. Even as a spoiled kid stranded far from his life of luxury, everyone in the world out to make things difficult for him, Ion had been worthy of his time and protection – because Ion had cared about him, completely and unfailingly and right from the beginning. Even the old Luke hadn't been able to resist him. Tonight, he didn't stand a chance.
"Okay," he said at last, running his fingers through his hair, more curious than he'd care to admit. "Tell you what. Let's try it, and if we both hate it, there's nothing that says we can't stop. Right?"
Ion's eyes shone. "Absolutely right."
That decided, Luke gratefully shucked off the annoying remnants of his own clothing, pants and boxers, shuddering at the touch of air on his own aching arousal. He turned just in time to see Ion digging through the nightstand drawer, bent at an angle that got him thinking this all might be a really fantastic idea, and coming up with a pale bottle. He wrinkled his brow.
"Hand lotion? Will that work?"
"I'm fairly sure." Luke watched as he tipped some of the faintly floral scented stuff onto his fingers, rubbed them together, and reached behind his own back. While wasn't able to see the first finger penetrate, the way Ion gasped, as though even he hadn't been expecting it, told him more than enough. He must have looked concerned, because the boy was quick to reassure him. "I'm fine...it just feels different, that's all."
"Like a bad kind of difference?"
A shake of the head.
"...Good?"
A nod. Luke's mouth suddenly felt very dry. "Can I..."
Without hesitation, he lie down on the bed, this time placing one of their many pillows beneath his hips to prop them up. Luke's hand trembled as he took the bottle of lotion, poured it out the way he'd seen the younger do. It felt slick and cool against his skin, and he wondered if it would feel just as so against Ion's; he rubbed it between his fingers to warm it.
"Just one, then."
"Right," said Ion. "Just one."
It was tight. He'd known it would be, of course, wasn't that naïve, but still...it was incredibly tight, and for the sake of patience he tried not to think of what all those gripping muscles would feel like on his cock. Besides, it was clear Ion was uncomfortable, his expression taut. He apologized.
"Don't be," Ion said in that way that never allowed him to. "They're just...bigger than mine."
"...Oh."
"Mmhmm." He smiled and ran a hand over the firm muscles of Luke's arm. "But it's okay. I like it."
"You sure?"
"Positive."
"...Alright."
Working the digit out to the cuticle, slowly at first, then back in to the knuckle, careful, easy movements, until he felt the tension in Ion's body begin to lessen, his breathing sounding less hitched. He didn't know where to place his thoughts; it was all so weird - to touch someone there in preparation for that – that was, if you thought about it enough, so Luke tried not to. In the end, he didn't want to stop, didn't want to at all. He didn't know what was going through Ion's head, but his eyes were closed in something other than pain, and he kept arching his back just slightly, as though someone were running their nails down it.
"You can use two now, if you want." Mere notches above a whisper. Carefully, Luke slid the second finger in alongside the first. The Fon master's entire body gave a jerk, but he shook his head when Luke tried to go back to one. Much quicker than before, he began to loosen up, to press back against the fingers inside him as thin, hungry cries slipped from his throat. Luke was spellbound; he moved his wrist a little faster, swallowing hard and wondering if it were possible for either of them to come just from this. Suddenly, it didn't matter how foreign the entire act was.
"You ready?"
"Yes, yes...please..."
Leaving hesitation behind, Luke lined himself up hastily – perhaps too much so. It took two tries before the tip of his hard on brushed across Ion's stretched entrance and he was sinking in, breath taken away by the tight, hot passage gripping him from head to hilt. Short nails dug into the meat of his shoulder hard enough to bruise, and he was grateful for it, because it could only be selfish to feel so much pleasure when his lover was in pain, and he liked to think he was through being selfish. He lay a kiss on the side of Ion's neck.
"'M sorry..."
Ion rubbed his cheek against the older boy's, and his breath came hot and quivering against his ear. "Luke. I won't break."
Could always turn around and surprise him...
His first thrusts were unsure, almost sloppy, the way they never were when fantasy took over. Ion's ankles had hooked around his hips, were nudging into the small of his back every time he pushed forward, like he needed him even closer than this intimacy allowed.
From somewhere out in the streets came the faint sound of voices, laughing in the falling snow.
Something was wrong. It was too dry, too rough, and though Ion was still hard, there was a trace of pain in his voice that was not going away. Luke pulled out with little reluctance and once again reached for the lotion, this time pouring it over his palm, rubbing it over his erection, careful not to come by his own touch. There wasn't nearly as much resistance upon entering a second time and the friction was deliciously silky, Ion taking him back inside as though he had never been hurt in the first place.
"Thank you," he said quietly, a smile on his face.
Luke wanted to look at him severely, tried, and was sure he failed. "If I hurt you, you've got to tell me."
"Alright."
"I'm serious, Ion," he groaned, trying to restrain himself from moving until he'd made his point. "Promise me."
"Fine, I promise." There was that tone of his, the one that on anyone else would probably be referred to as impatience. "Please, Luke..."
He shifted on his knees, changing the angle of penetration and that seemed to be what they both needed. The next thrust he gave came smoother, easier, and Ion bucked up into him with a high pitched, "Oh!" It was the loudest noise to come from him since they'd begun, Luke realized – for the most part, the Fon Master uttered his pleasure as softly as his pain – but it was enough to cut through the final spring-line that held him back. They both began to move faster, falling at last into a rhythm of giving and taking up each others slack, the space between them hot as a pinpoint held over a flame. Soon, the first white-light slivers of completion streaked through the two of them, and it was simply a matter of who would reach that horizon first.
Luke was groaning, knew he was probably being louder than he realized, gritted his teeth. Besides the unwelcome politics of what they were doing, besides what the group would think, he desperately wanted to keep this one night for their own . .a moment to be vaulted away by two people born under a veil of secrecy.
He was getting close, clawing up deep fistfuls of linen. Wanted the end, wanted so much more, and the younger was holding onto him for all he was worth, broken sobs of pleasure falling against his neck. Ion may have been the one to set him aflame, but he would never leave him to burn alone. When Luke pulled a hand away from the bed to stroke him, he tipped back his head and cried out as though he were coming apart.
Luke came first. It had been winding up inside him for so long that it hit him like gunfire, racing up from his groin and shaking him from head to toe. Pure anesthetic ecstasy brought his more coherent thoughts to a white out, but he heard the boy's name on his own voice, felt the pulse of semen through his cock as he shot into his lover. His head was just beginning to clear when Ion went over as well, arching and spilling over his hand with something like a squeak.
And just like that, it was over.
They didn't say much in the immediate aftermath, couldn't muster up the words to as they lay with galloping heartbeats on the rumpled bed. The room, which had been all clean linen and potpourri that afternoon, now smelled tellingly like sex.
"Luke..." Ion murmured at last, and Luke couldn't judge from his tone whether or not this was a good thing. He was just wondering if he should start feeling guilty when when Ion kissed his ear. Pulling back, he saw that the Fon Master was smiling and couldn't help but do the same.
"So did you?"
Ion blinked. "Did I what?"
"Plan this whole thing."
"I didn't, really," he said with a laugh, and Luke kissed him.
"Liar."
"Never. I'm under several oaths not to lie." Luke withdrew carefully, though not enough to keep him from flinching. "However..."
"However?"
"I may have told Anise I was going to speak with Jade. That was the truth, because I did go and speak with Jade...and told him I was going for a walk. But I walked the length of the hotel before I came to see you."
"You're weird sometimes, you know." He bunched up the sheets and gave them to Ion, watching him wipe himself down with half before taking it back and making use of the other half, finally dropping it over the side of bed. He lay back down and extended his arms, letting Ion crawl into them, curl up beside him. "I'm glad you did, though."
The boy turned his eyes with him, bright and drowsy and captivating, and Luke felt something slipping away from him, some part of his soul that was no longer his own. "Really?'
He touched his nose to the aquamarine curtain of bangs. "Yeah."
Ion embraced him tighter, head pillowed near the juncture of his neck. Luke was just wondering what the hell this made them to each other when he felt the wisp of eyelashes coming down against his skin, and he chided himself for asking a question he had always known the answer to. Ion was Ion.
The young Fon Master's breathing lulled out into a peaceful sleep and Luke must have done the same, because the next time he opened his eyes the room was bathed in pitch darkness, the streetlights having finally gone out. It was still snowing, though, and Ion was still sleeping beside him, this time lying against his arm.
He frowned. Something was tight near the apex of his own inner elbow, itching and damp, and it took him almost a full minute to realize why.
There were tears drying on his skin.
Luke shook the boy's shoulder, saying his name, but found he could not wake him – Ion slept as if he hadn't the strength to open his eyes. Resigned, Luke was left to wrap arms and body around him the way a rabbit might protect its young, a gesture that amounted to nothing when the wolves came. As he listened to the sounds of the wind against the windowpane, to the younger replica's breath and heartbeat, he realized for the first time that there was something dark behind Ion's perpetual smile, something broken that he could not piece back together, no matter how hard he tried.
Luke didn't even bother trying to get back to sleep that night, and sleep did not find him.
-End-