"You want to what?"
"An idle thought," Lulu said, pulsing her hips just so.
Auron groaned, teeth clenched next to her ear to spare the skin of her neck. "Witch."
"Mm," she purred. "The thought disturbs you?"
Knotted fingers clamped around the nip of her waist, pressing her against the bulkhead as he shifted his angle of attack. "It disturbs me that you'd find it necessary to supplement this with a Ronso."
She gasped and clutched at his chest, nails leaving ordinary marks for a change, devoid of sparks and ice and other mage's playthings. "Hardly," she said when she could speak. "But you should be flattered, since I prize your--" again she gave that maddening squeeze-- "prowess far more than a Ronso's horn, broken or otherwise."
He scowled. "You...have some basis for comparison?"
"Mmm," she said smiling up at him and letting her lids drift half-closed in a decidedly feline gesture of contentment. "Some."
And she began to tell him, in broken fragments, what a lonely young Ronso and a frustrated black mage might do, when the prospects of finding any worthy partner on backwater Besaid seemed hopeless. Auron was silently astonished, although he should not have been, considering what he knew of the enigmatic mage who reckoned dead men a worthwhile challenge and corsets appropriate armor for battle. What shocked him more (although it was clearly her intention) was his body's own response to her salacious whispers. He found himself slowing his pace to catch what she was saying, moving in long, lingering thrusts that nearly robbed her of speech. Eventually, the prurient tale faded to incoherent whimpers; she was more interested in what he was doing than memories of misspent youth. His name was on her lips as she buried her face against his shoulder, making lewd noises against the scarred muscle as she jerked and bucked around him. Whereas Auron could not banish the scandalous image she had implanted in his mind. His release was accompanied by a ragged shout. He was rougher than usual as he finished, driving her hard against the wall.
Six days until her birthday. Flowers would have been so much simpler.
It had been some time since their last liaison; Yuna's pilgrimage took precedence over private matters like denying death its due. Auron had barely spoken to her since. Lulu was beginning to regret her frank answer: perhaps she should have stuck to silken cord. It was a jarring enough request for a man who had, after all, been monastery-raised.
Not that there was time to ponder anything beyond fiends and Omega's perils and staying alive, until they returned to Luca for a brief rest. Wakka and Tidus were manfully determined to win a trophy that doubled as the ultimate weapon against aerial opponents, when Cid's canons weren't handy. That meant tournaments for the two blitzers and tedious hours in the stadium for the rest of the party. Unjaded, Rikku and Yuna were content to gossip, catch up on being cousins and ogle well-toned athletes. Auron and Kimahri had promptly found an alibi and snuck off to the Highroad.
Lulu would have to devise suitable revenge. Auron had smugly insisted that a Moogle was no use in catching hard-shells, and the Monster Arena's custodian wouldn't pay the reward if his escaped pets returned as a pile of ash. So they had left her to babysit Yuna, knowing perfectly well (or they never would have gone off) that the only threat left in Luca was that Yuna might come down with writer's cramp from signing autographs.
Lulu had tried bringing scrolls with her to study during the tournament, but soon had to concede defeat. Focus was impossible, between jostling hawkers and cheering mobs and blitzers who were neither Chappu nor (definitely not) Sir Auron. Logistics, then. Preparations. She recited every spell in her head a dozen times, toying with the words for ultima that she still dared not utter, lest she get it right and rip the sphere pool apart. She mentally cataloged the supplies they would need to buy before heading back to Bikanel, scoured her memory for all the methods she knew for catching Cactuars, and wound up striking a bet with Rikku on how long it would take for Sir Auron to tire of sidequests and announce they were going after Jecht tomorrow, comma, dammit. She wondered if (or, rather, wished) she were prejudicing the odds. During the tournament's final match, Lulu occupied herself by contemplating what she was going to do to him the next time she cornered him in her cabin. If only she had thought to pick up some of that rope during their last visit to Bevelle.
The hunters did not return before the victors, Wakka's dripping forelock cutting through the crowd like a ship's prow as he bounded up the stairs. Lulu scattered the cluster of human remoras trailing after Tidus, freeing him to escort the lady summoner through a sea of admiring and envious glances (some aimed at her, some at him). Rikku led the way across the causeway to an outdoor cafe in Luca Square, where she and Yuna conspired to have a birthday cake waiting. They were just boxing up the leftovers and preparing to retire to the airship for the night, when a passing Al Bhed pressed a small packet into the mage's hands.
Puzzled, Lulu lifted the flap and pulled out a slip of paper. She arched an eyebrow and tucked the note away.
"Hey, no fair! What's it say?" Tidus said.
"It's a present!" Rikku guessed, licking icing off her fingers. "C'mon, spill the beans!"
"Auron and Kimahri are back from the hunt." Lulu rose to her feet, feigning a frown. "Maechen may have a useful lead for us, provided Sir Auron doesn't decapitate him out of boredom. I think I had better go rescue each from the other."
"Trust Auron to forget people have birthdays," Tidus grumbled.
"Ya need us for backup, Lu?" Wakka said.
"For goodness' sake, Wakka." Lulu pressed a hand to her forehead, hiding her appalled smirk. "Sir Auron, Kimahri and I can handle it, whatever that old windbag has to show us."
"Uh, right." Wakka didn't look too eager to press the issue. "Probably just another dumb statue of Lord Mi'ihen."
"Yuna? Don't worry if we're not back tonight. I'll get a room at the Agency, if Maechen keeps us late."
"O-okay." Yuna gave Tidus a shy glance, holding hands with him under the table where she thought the older woman couldn't see. "Please, be careful."
"Ugh." Rikku winked at the mage. "Taking one for the team, Lulu?"
"Ah...I suppose I might. Excuse me." She turned on her heel and marched briskly away from the table, leaving a few puzzled glances in her wake. A row of vendors provided handy cover until she regained her composure, fighting back laughter that even Wakka might have seen through. Watching them through a display of newly-printed Aurochs merchandise, she waited for the party to straggle back towards Cid's airship before cutting across the square to a nearby hotel.
The lobby was posh, polished and ornate, larger than some temple great halls. Unfortunately the stairs were scaled to match. Glad that she was in shape from climbing Mount Gagazet, Lulu counted floors, wondering where Auron had gotten the gil for a penthouse suite. Perhaps that was the reason for today's hunt. The room number and keys were enclosed with the note, saving her the trouble of interrogating the concierge.
Winded from the climb on the top landing, Lulu fumbled with the keys, taking three tries to unlock the door. Upon entering, she was reminded that Sir Auron had a silent flair for the dramatic.
The panoramic view was nearly as spectacular as that from the airship's deck, with far better amenities. There was a circular tub in the floor -- empty, but broad enough for benches -- and towels, soap and bottles of body oil within easy reach. Guado lilies spilled from sconces set on every wall that was not glass. Strategically-placed candelabras would set off the room's lavish hangings to artful effect, once the sun set. Pitchers of wine and ice-water stood on one sideboard, a bowl of fruits on another, and dear Yevon, Auron must have slipped off to the boutique she'd told him about during their last stop in Bevelle. There were several lengths of silken rope coiled on the nightstand.
Ah yes. The bed.
Oval-shaped, it was the size of her old hut. An elegant arrangement of pillows, Besaid fabrics, and a genuine chocobo feather throw completed the ensemble. Three chocolates huddled meekly on a heart-shaped pillow.
"'That's how it's done,'" she murmured, surveying the decadent spread.
Pouring herself a drink, she moved to the bed and eliminated the chocolates before anyone could accidentally lie on them. There she reclined to sip wine and let her mind wander, amusing herself by contemplating the image of Auron in the boutique where she had purchased her dress. She was not sure which was more endearing, the thought of him trying on some of the wares (would he consider wearing that, she wondered) or his terrorizing those fluttering attendants in their bare-bottomed chaps when they tried to offer recommendations to Monsieur.
Lulu had consumed half the glass when a heavy knock shook the door like a battering ram.
"Enter!" she called, setting the drink down with a clank and an elevated heart-rate.
The door swung open to reveal Kimahri, panting and clutching his spear. He scanned the room as if checking for enemies, looking perplexed and vaguely disgruntled. "Auron say Lulu need Kimahri."
Lulu nodded, eyes widening. She hadn't expected Auron to take her request seriously: it had merely been a ploy to tease him that night. She felt a pang of remorse for drawing an all-too-innocent Ronso into their games. "Did he tell you what I needed you for?"
Kimahri's ears went back, picking up something in her tone. "No."
"No." Lulu raised her chin, expression hooded. "Shut the door."
His tail lashed once, but he put his head down and obeyed, propping his spear against the door-frame. Lulu shivered at the clack of the bolt: had he guessed what this summons was for?
"Kimahri." She stroked a thigh absently. "This is...a little difficult to explain. Sir Auron asked me what I should like for a birthday present. I'm afraid I told him about something I once received from you as a gift back in Besaid. A most...unusual gift. I still remember it fondly."
The tuft of the Ronso's tail prickled and began to bush out. "Kimahri remembers," he said, eyes narrowing to slits.
Her hand drifted up to the soft fur ruff of her corset. "I thought you would. I wonder, Kimahri, if you know how I might come by another such... gift. For a special occasion only, you understand."
The Ronso stood mute, rigid, nostrils flaring.
"That's not an order, Kimahri." She lowered her voice, daring herself to say it. "It is simply an offer."
"Auron," he said, making the blunt word a question.
"He sent you here, didn't he?" She swept a hand towards the room. "And provisioned us for the journey, I see."
Kimahri hesitated, golden eyes following her outstretched fingers to assess the "provisions," the bait, and not least the trap: the Ronso-sized bed wrapped in a seductive net of pillows, silks and feathers. But memory -- not to mention limited opportunities -- were powerful motivators. Nose twitching, he took a step towards her, and then another, lured by scent.
Half an hour later, the door opened and closed with a stealthy click. Auron left the key in the lock and halted just inside. He had stood out on the landing for over a minute, bracing himself. It was not that her suggestion was unthinkable. He seen almost everything imaginable in Zanarkand (and some less so; dream-worlds tended towards the bizarre after a thousand years of stagnation). The problem was that he had thought about it all too often since that damned woman first raised the possibility.
So. One eyeful was quite enough; two might kill him twice over. He looked.
Kimahri was crouched over the bed, his mane disheveled, his harness and kilt discarded, and his loincloth leaving little to the imagination in his current state. Lulu, gleaming a pale gold in the first rays of sunset, was reclining against a backrest of pillows with head thrown back. Her corset had puddled around her waist, and most of the belts around her legs were also unbuckled. Lulu's limbs moved restlessly of their own volition: she could not keep still.
Kimahri's ears tilted towards the door. He snuffed sharply, tickling Lulu's belly with his whiskers so that she twitched with faint, breathless giggles. Lush curves rippled in ways that struck a man dumb. The Ronso applied himself once more to his task, rumbling in his chest as his tongue played across exposed flesh.
As Auron settled against the door to observe, Kimahri shifted to set his jaws lightly over the arch of Lulu's bared throat. The swordsman stiffened, smiling sourly at his own response. He envied the way the Ronso's tongue could curl around one nipple-- Shiva, he was lifting the weight of an entire breast with it, eliciting a gasp -- or loop delicately around an earlobe. Kimahri could not kiss her, however, leaving her lips parted and wanton. There was that, at least.
Auron felt the ghost of life stirring in him as the Ronso licked and slurped from collarbones to calves, sampling most of the sights in between. The swordsman clenched his jaw when Kimahri's short muzzle thrust between her thighs, pushing her knees apart. Lulu gave a breathy sigh and slumped against the pillows, cradling Kimahri's head in her hands as he began to lick with gusto.
Lavender lids finally lifted. Lulu met Auron's engrossed stare across the room. She licked her lips and mouthed a silent command: Touch yourself.
Auron rolled his eye. Nevertheless, he obeyed her suggestion: certain needs were growing rather imperative. Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he disrobed himself. The Ronso's ears flickered at the snap of a buckle, the creak of leather and stiff fabric. Lulu watched raptly as Auron revealed his scarred form to her lust-hazed scrutiny and began to stroke himself in time to Kimahri's slurps. He gritted his teeth again as the wet noises grew louder, then muffled. Lulu gasped and began to undulate against the nest of pillows. Auron did not need to see past Kimahri's shaggy head to know why. He recognized the faint creak of straps and belts flexing around her thighs. Her eyes fluttered shut, despite her attempts to maintain eye contact. Her shoulders were gleaming now, burnished by a faint sheen of sweat.
Torn between conflicting desires, both imperative, Auron stalked across the room and dropped to one knee on the bed, sliding in next to her. He seized her face between his hands and turned her head to meet his forceful kiss. She greeted him tongue to tongue, making a sultry noise in the back of her throat that hit him in the groin.
From his new vantage point, Auron could see the Ronso's tongue where it disappeared into her body, its edges curling as it probed. The swordsman groaned. He began to palm her breasts, muffling her panting breaths with his mouth. Her skin was slick and wet. So was her hand, when she reached out blindly and began to stroke Auron in fitful, erratic caresses that were more maddening than pleasurable.
Lulu was beginning to shake. Kimahri growled, his furry shoulder rocking against Auron's leg. Auron held her when she started to thrash, trying to pull away in spite of herself, sighs changing to husky cries. Auron seized her for another kiss, covering her throaty moan as she quivered and collapsed. Kimahri kept on until she was limp and jerking, nearly sobbing. Then the Ronso pulled out with a truly obscene sucking sound.
Auron cast an eye down at the devastation Kimahri had wrought. Lulu was a mess, makeup unmade, feathers stuck to her skin, fishnets torn, braids unraveling, skin flushed and damp. There were red welts from the Ronso's teeth on her breasts, arms, and neck, which a healing potion would have to repair. She was smiling like Shiva after the kill, eyes closed, body sated. Auron's cock twitched impatiently.
The Ronso rocked back on his haunches, retreating to the rug beside the bed. Meeting the swordsman's gaze, he raised his head, turning it slightly to show the knotted cords of his throat.
Auron gave a soft snort and reached for the straps of her dress. "This comes off. Now."
Lulu laughed weakly and opened her eyes, reaching out to scratch Kimahri's muzzle. "Enjoying the view?"
The Ronso bared his teeth in an alarming grin. Auron shook his head, obliquely amused to see the sorceress blushing. Then he yanked the corset over her head. Kimahri clambered back up to peel away the skirt. Her underwear must have been an earlier casualty; a few shreds of black were scattered amongst the pillows.
Moving in tandem as they often did on the battlefield, swordsman and hunter ripped away the last few scraps of clothing and rearranged the pillows and pliant woman, still dazed from the Ronso's ministrations. Auron rolled under her, propping himself in a seated position, and pulled Lulu roughly onto his lap for another fierce kiss. He flinched at the warm tongue brushing his forearms as Kimahri licked her back. But Auron had more pressing concerns.
Forgoing preliminaries, he thrust into Lulu with a grunt. The sorceress' eyes fluttered half-closed, and she began to nibble his neck and scarred shoulders as he moved within her, sliding easily in the added heat and moisture.
An alien sensation made Auron clench -- the Ronso's hot breaths against his balls were nothing like the witch's, and he was in no position to fight Kimahri off if -- what was he doing?
Lulu had begun to moan again, and from the timing Auron guessed it was not entirely due to his efforts. She was panting, boneless, riding him like a cork on the waves. He could feel the walls of her sex pulsing strangely until, with a shudder, he understood exactly what the Ronso's tongue was doing to her.
Disbelief turned to indignation as Lulu unexpectedly pulled free, pushing off his chest and turning away from him. He was almost ready to howl, when--
Oh.
Her hand was fumbling blindly behind her, but her intent was clear enough. Auron resettled her on his lap, grumbling. "I take it there's nothing you won't do."
"Tidus," she gasped promptly.
Scowling, Auron gave Kimahri an approving nod as the Ronso set his jaws around her throat again. Then there were two hisses of breath as Auron eased back into her, marveling at the tightness of this unfamiliar landscape. She trembled and went silent.
"You all right?" Auron said, feeling the sweat standing out on her skin as his hands cupped her breasts.
"Mmm," she said, caressing his knuckles. "Kimahri?"
The answering growl made the hair on the back of Auron's neck prickle.
Kimahri knelt on the other side of Lulu, sheer pelt brushing Auron's inner thighs as he approached. The Ronso's paws closed around her waist, steadying her between them. She opened her arms, sighing in mute invitation. He responded with a low, rumbling snarl. Auron could feel every inch as Kimahri pushed into her, their cocks separated by a thin wall of flesh.
"Go," Lulu whispered, breaths coming loud and sharp. "Ah...go."
Impressed by her sheer audacity, senses reeling, Auron began to thrust again, more slowly now. Kimahri moved with him, a bizarre give-and-take with the witch's body as the fulcrum between them. Lulu's wanton moans grew louder. They were not silent either, guttural grunts blending together so that it was impossible to tell which were human, which were Ronso. Mindful of the fragile body they were ravishing, the two males began to compete, jockeying for position, trading thrust for thrust with wicked jerks and twists that reduced Lulu to keening whimpers. They did not stop when she convulsed again, nor when her body's clenching drove Auron over the edge with a groan. His fingers dug into her hips hard enough to bruise as he pumped her savagely, forgetting gentleness as he claimed his own pleasure.
He was still inside her, loosening, when the Ronso snarled and bore down, driving his weight into both of them in short, powerful bursts. Lulu shrieked and writhed, head lolling against Auron's shoulder as another climax overtook her. For a few minutes, the world dissolved into madness, pain, ecstasy and sweat-slicked bodies rocking and struggling in a frantic fist of pleasure.
Finally, slowly, they disentangled themselves, hunters laying their spent victim on the bed. Kimahri cleaned her with his tongue while Auron retrieved drinks. Cold water, not wine, seemed to be called for, and he wondered if he should break out the healing potions. He caressed Lulu's shoulder gently, fingertips trailing down to a breast, while Kimahri groomed her hair. Finally she opened an eye and smiled up at them.
"Happy birthday," Auron said. "I hope we didn't kill you."
"Acceptable cost," she murmured, reaching out to trace a fingernail down a muscled thigh. "Oh, my. Thank you both for...humoring me."
"Lulu has good sense of humor," Kimahri deadpanned.
"Hmph." Auron bumped his fist against the Ronso's broad chest. It was an old sign between them. Good hunting.
Yellow eyes gleamed.
Lulu stirred, watching them with a drowsy smile. "Speaking of humoring me."
Auron glanced down. Her eyelids had drifted half-closed in a feline smirk. Oh gods...
"I believe you brought me two presents, Sir Auron. Kimahri, do you know how to tie a safety knot?"
~ Finis ~