Notes: Spoiler warning, of course. Set after they all get back together with their crystals, but before they go for the charge on the whole Chaos crew. I thought Tidus and Firion got along quite well ("Rosebud", anyone?) and my mind automatically put them together. I also call the Onion Knight 'Luneth' because that was his name in the DS version of Final Fantasy III. The Warrior of Light is left unnamed, because he doesn't know it in the course of the game. The 'Faris' that Bartz mentions is a cross-dressing lady pirate in his game. XD
Pairings: Well…210 and 589. The awesome trio, haha. This is basically just fluff…I think.
Firion knew this would end. Was this why he was okay with it? No. Not at all. If he had a choice, he didn't want Tidus to go anywhere—or, at the very least, come with him. However, every one of them would eventually go back to their own world. Where they belonged and he couldn't ask Tidus to leave his world, and he knew he wouldn't ask it of Firion. They'd have to move on with their respective lives, whether Firion liked it or not. It was how things had to be, no matter how tough.
Tidus squirmed slightly, as if sensing his morose thoughts, and settled his head more comfortably back against Firion's shoulder. He was seated between the man's legs, his back against Firion's chest, his hands settled on the upraised knees to either side of him.
"Thinking too hard again," he reprimanded. The ever-present warmth in his voice seemed to take the scolding edge away from the statement.
"Sorry." Firion's arm tightened about his shoulders, briefly, and he gazed towards their companions. They'd set up a small campsite to get a reprieve and to rest before they went on to their true battle through the enemy's stronghold tomorrow. Fire crackled and spat sparks upwards, the sky seeming to stretch on endlessly over their heads. Weapons were laid aside and everything seemed to be quiet and calm, the group enjoying it while they could.
"We'll beat Chaos," Tidus said absentmindedly. He tilted his head back slightly to meet Firion's eyes.
Firion bowed his head so that their foreheads touched. "We will," he said. "What is it that you said once before?" He gazed at him inquiringly. "When we were getting ready to fight through all of the manikins."
"Oh, that." Tidus grinned as he remembered. "What's our goal?"
"Victory," Firion finished with a small chuckle.
"That's right." Tidus turned his head slightly and kissed the tip of his nose.
Firion wrapped both arms around him, tugging him in closer, lips brushing from his forehead down to his cheek. He wanted to take as much as he could; he wanted to remember everything about Tidus. It didn't bother him to show it, even though the others were around.
He was sure some of them felt the same as he. Like Bartz, who had swung both arms around Zidane and Squall with an affectionate exclamation, to a grin from the former and a slight, half-exasperated but tolerant look from the latter. Terra sat with Cloud and Luneth, speaking gently to the younger boy, who appeared anxious but mustered up a smile for her, doing his best to be a brave knight. The Warrior of Light was gazing off into the distance, Cecil next to him, occasionally saying something quietly, their nameless leader nodding once in a while.
"Gotta rest up soon for tomorrow," Tidus said as he settled against him comfortably.
"Can't have the star player tired out for the big battle," Firion murmured in his ear. The other had told him, back where he had come from, he was a star player of something called the 'Zanarkand Abes'—they played some kind of game called blitzball, which the blond had explained to him excitedly the previous day. Tidus' shoulders shook with laughter, a grin spreading over his face.
"That's right!" Tidus' hands took both of his, interlocking their fingers. He clasped their palms together and shut his eyes, exhaling quietly and relaxing back against a warm chest. "You get some sleep too, Rosebud."
"I'll try," Firion replied, even while something in him clenched and curled at the thought of facing all of the enemies who had plagued them up until this point. The task that awaited them—killing a god—was somewhat daunting. Or, perhaps, quite daunting, considering how strong Chaos had to be. Tougher than anyone else they had faced thus far…
Tidus yawned a little bit, wriggled slightly. Firion shifted against the stone he was leaning against, to try and make the both of them more comfortable. "Stop thinking for a while," Tidus said sleepily, his hair tickling under Firion's chin. The man tucked his chin into it, closing his eyes.
"It's hard," he said quietly.
"Think of me," Tidus said with a small laugh. "Though, that might not help you get any sleep." He blinked slyly at him.
Firion's lips twitched into a smile. "I think it'd help plenty."
"Look at them," Bartz said, resting his chin on folded hands. He squinted his eyes in the direction of Tidus and Firion, half-draped with shadows, only half of their faces illuminated by the flickering firelight. "So lovey-dovey."
"I'd be being lovey-dovey too, if I had the chance," Zidane said morosely, looking over towards Terra. As if sensing his gaze, Luneth turned his head and glared. "But that kid is in the way." He made a grumbling noise and fell on his back, head resting on his arms, tail twitching on the ground beside him.
Squall didn't say anything, but his eyebrows did twitch upwards.
"It's probably our last night together," Bartz said suddenly. Zidane lifted his head and Squall looked over at him. "It's…weird, but I half don't want to go home, you know? Faris is probably gonna beat me up for being missing." He laughed and scratched his cheek.
"Not wanting to go home just because you're going to get in trouble?" Squall said, folding his arms.
"Well, kinda." Bartz scratched his nose and grinned. Then, his expression seemed to get a bit more serious and he switched his gaze between both of his friends. "You guys are awesome, you know?"
Squall's hard expression seemed to soften, not enough to bring a smile, but enough to be noticed. Zidane lifted himself up on his arms slightly with a curious grin, cocking his head to the side, tail flicking behind him. "You're pretty great too, Bartz. But what is that, all of a sudden?"
"Dunno when I'd get to say it otherwise," Bartz said. Squall reached out without a word and brought his hand down on his head, ruffling his hair.
"We'll meet again," he said simply.
"You'd say that anyway," Bartz said but laughed and grinned all the same. Squall cuffed the side of his head lightly, though not enough to hurt.
"You think that I'd lie about that?" he asked with a slight sharp edge to it.
This elicited a frantic waving of hands, Bartz smiling somewhat sheepishly. "No, no…well…thanks, Squall." This got him a small snort and a short nod of acknowledgment. Zidane shifted closer and reached out, his palms facing Bartz, who brought his palms against the others' in a double high-five.
"We can find a way—if we got here once, we're sure to find a way to meet again," he said and flashed a grin. Bartz grinned back at him, not completely comforted but happy all the same, and switched his gaze between his two friends, affection rushing through him.
"Group hug!" he exclaimed suddenly and lunged. Squall managed to get out a noise of protest before an arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other clamping around Zidane's. They were pulled in tight, kept close by arms that belied their true strength. Squall found his cheek uncomfortably mashed against Bartz's.
Zidane blinked rapidly, surprised before he laughed and gave into the sudden hug. He hooked his arms around Bartz and Squall's middles, hands thumping their backs good-naturedly. Squall moved to turn his head, fully preparing to tell Bartz to let go, but felt something damp hit his cheek. He bit back a sigh and directed his gaze forward without a word. Instead, he brought up both hands, one each falling on top of Bartz's and Zidane's heads.
"How'd you two ever manage in your own worlds?" he muttered quietly.
"Dunno," Zidane said, his voice muffled. "I got by somehow. But Bartz is hopeless."
"Eh, shaddap," Bartz said, trying and failing to muffle a wet sniffle.