Author's Note: The following is a series of short ficlets (or drabbles) detailing a number of possible scenarios in which Gippal and Baralai would have shared their first kiss. These display a dramatic shift in time, environment, tone, and scenario from section to section. I'm not certain at this time how many of these there will be, but I do hope you enjoy them.
I.
Baralai woke up too often out in the desert. The shifting sands made small noises in the night, scratchings on the tent that sounded like animals trying to claw their way in. Every time the wind blew, he woke up.
He knew he needed sleep. He pulled his pack up over his head, hoping the canvas material would do something to block out the sound. Baralai rolled over to try to get to sleep again.
He blinked his eyes sleepily. Over in the corner of the tent, squeezed into the smallest space possible, was Gippal. The moonlight was strong tonight; it filtered in through the top of the tent and right onto his sleeping companion. Baralai watched him for a while. The Al Bhed was so peaceful in his sleep, seeming to be completely unaware of the dark, cold desert around them – also, he seemed not to notice, nor mind, that he was sharing a tent.
This very predicament had given Baralai much consternation. Baralai's own tent had been lost in a battle with one of the sand monsters – the worm, flying up out of the sands, had eaten it for dinner before Nooj had cut off its head. The tent was unsalvageable. Gippal had been kind enough to offer to share his. Baralai couldn't stomach sleeping in the same tent as Nooj – the noise would be even more prominent there – and it just wasn't proper to sleep in a tent with Paine, so Gippal seemed like the best option.
Baralai had prayed each night that he not be led into temptation. The moonlight on Gippal's skin, turning his hair a silver color with hints of gold – this was temptation. Baralai just wanted to look at him, to watch him all night instead of sleeping.
Oh Yevon, what had he gotten himself into? He really should have just gone to sleep outside, even in the stinging and biting windblown sand.
Before Baralai knew it, he was rising to his knees and crawling silently across the tent. Ostensibly, he wanted to close the bit of tent flap that had come open in the night. However, he wound up nowhere near the entrance – instead, he wound up by Gippal's side.
The sleeping Al Bhed was so peaceful – Baralai was preoccupied with this thought. Why? Was he jealous of the way Gippal could just fall asleep anywhere and slumber deeply until someone shook him awake? Was it just the fall of the moonlight on the features of this man – no, Baralai thought. Gippal was still a boy. At sixteen, Baralai was just leaving his home in Bevelle to go on his first voyage with Yevon. He remembered how immature he was, how unready he was for the world. Gippal must be the same.
"Gippal," Baralai mouthed silently. "Perhaps in two years, you won't be able to sleep so soundly."
He couldn't resist. Here he was, his temptation in front of him, his ultimate sin – and Baralai knew that he could just taste it and be okay. No one would have to know, and then perhaps his thirst would be quenched. No longer would he be tormented! He was weak to these things – Baralai knew that was his own greatest flaw. Temptation was too much. It was what had, after all, kept him from being a Summoner.
He leaned forward over his sleeping companion and chanced a kiss on his foreign, sinful mouth. There, so close, Baralai could smell him, could taste him – he was nothing like anything Baralai had been this close to before.
Their lips had barely brushed before Baralai knew he had to turn away. It was wrong and he knew it. A great feat of internal strength made him pull back from Gippal's lips, ready to retreat to his bedroll.
Before he could get all the way back, Baralai noticed with horrible embarrassment and shame that Gippal was awake -- and watching him go.