Author's Notes: Uh, another story that I wrote while I should have been studying for finals. But the little bit of plot wouldn't stop hounding my brain until I sat down and wrote it. So here you go.
Summary: If the panic attacks in his presence weren't bad enough, then the stuttering had to be a deal breaker. Vaan/Balthier. Rated M.
Disclaimer: I do not own. *weeps*
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Whirl
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It's the notdead princess who should have captured his attention with all the promises of riches beyond imagination (after all, isn't that what skypirates should want?), but it is the boy, that street rat of only seventeen, that his eyes have landed on.
And he's not really sure why. He's never really felt this sort of thing for another male before, not when there were women aplenty waiting in line to bed the handsome and wealthy son of Dr. Cidolfus Demen Bunansa.
In fact, he's never really had what most would term as romantic feelings for another person; Hume, Viera, or otherwise, never felt the judgment-clouding feelings that constantly devour the attention of a person in love, or in like, or whatever it was he was in. And he was in deep.
Balthier just knew that whenever that boy, white/blond hair that fingers itched to run through, so much as looked at him, he felt as if he were falling into an endless abyss of large grins and crinkled browngreenhazel eyes.
He yearned for the supple young body to press against his own, wished mere little girls that comprised their party would stop shooting Vaan those looks, wished he had the balls to just tell the boy what he felt.
But every time he got close, every time his mouth began forming the words, his heart would speed up much too fast and he would stop breathing and Vaan would get that worried look of his and begin to fawn over Balthier, not that he particularly minded, and ask him what was wrong, ask him if he could get him anything, anything at all. And maybe he should just lie down for a while.
And it happened every single time.
If the panic attacks weren't bad enough, the one time he didn't get one, an interruption in the form of a perky young blond girl had to show up and ruin the entire moment. But she was so fucking naïve and innocent that Balthier couldn't stay mad at her even as he felt like punching her in the face.
And as Balthier sat and buried his face in his hands, he contemplated his next course of action. What he didn't know was that someone would beat him too it.
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The first time Vaan caught Balthier staring at him, he thought he'd made a mistake. The second time he caught Balthier staring at him, the thought that there might just be something very, very wrong with himself. The third time, he confronted him.
So he asked the skypirate, and as Balthier sputtered before him and grasped for words to say, Vaan got the distinct impression that just maybe he had been wrong, maybe it wasn't himself their was something wrong with.
And as Vaan stared up at Balthier, an overwhelming urge overcame him, the need to touch, to feel. His eyes flickered down to Balthier's lips, the sudden impulse to kiss him great, greater than it had been with anyone else.
Vaan was not a man of prolonged and insightful thought. He was pure and uninhibited action and reaction. It's what made him perfect on the battlefield, because he didn't think, didn't spend precious seconds devising a plan. He just charged, paused a moment, and countered, ready with a quick slice and a speedy slash the very millisecond the foe let their guard down, had their attention diverged.
So when that need to kiss and feel overwhelmed him, he leaned forward and silenced Balthier's unintelligible mumblings with his lips.
And then they were pressed against a surface, neither bothering to figure out exactly what, and they were pressing close and holding onto and rubbing and grabbing and groping. They had to work to get each other out of their respective clothing because they were in the desert, both wearing leather the clung to already sweaty bodies.
And then they were naked and Balthier was grabbing lotion from his backpack and sliding it up and down his erection before guiding himself to Vaan. And Vaan was clinging to him, his nails digging into his back, blissfully painful, as he adjusted to the foreign intrusion.
But soon it felt good, especially when he demanded Balthier to just move already and he hit that one spot that made his eyes pop and go blind from the white hot ecstasy of it. A ringed fist pumped his own erection as Balthier's hips picked up to a frantic and unstable pace as they both lost themselves in the other.
Orgasm shook them both at almost exact the same exact moment, their bodies tensing against the others as they held on. Balthier leaned down for a kiss as he slowly withdrew himself, not liking the way Vaan winced. He asked again and again if the other was alright, saying that he could dig a potion out from his pack and heal him in an instant.
Vaan just wrapped his arms around the older man and told him to go to sleep.
And as Balthier slept next to him, an arm wrapped tightly around Vaan's waist, he thought that maybe he had been right all along, that there really was something wrong with him.
The problem was that he was so dense, had never noticed before just how beautiful Balthier was, all golden skin and copper hair and sharp-witted remarks.
And as Vaan lay there, tightening his own grasp on the man next to him, he thought maybe, just maybe, Balthier felt the same about him.
End.
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