Disclaimer: Not mine, belongs to Squeenix yadda yadda.
Title: Rite of Passage
"Vanille," Hope said carefully, proud despite himself that his voice didn't crack, "you're drunk."
He tried to focus on her face.
It helped that they were stuck in a closet and that the lighting was terrible and that she had very pretty eyes.
She was also mostly naked. That really didn't help.
Fang was going to kill him.
"Drunk?" Vanille asked, giggling. Her boots made clicking sounds as she moved her feet. He hadn't checked, what with being forcibly shoved into the closet and all - but he was pretty sure it was one of the only things she was wearing.
He was kind of curious as to why she was not wearing anything but that could wait. He kept his hands very firmly behind him. And focused on looking up.
"Yes," Hope replied. "Very drunk. I know Snow and Serah's housewarming party is fun but don't you feel like going home with Fa-"
"Dun wanna." Vanille complained. She leaned forward to nuzzle his hair. "You smell good, Hope. Like flowers."
"Thanks," Hope squeaked, temporarily forgetting all about his voice-cracking issues.
He had spent twenty-four dollars and ninety-nine cents (plus tax) on that lavender-scented shampoo. Good to know it smelled nice.
He'd tell Fang that Vanille liked it. Maybe it'd distract her long enough for him to get away. Maybe Sazh would help him. Sazh was a good guy. And an ace pilot. He'd help him get out of the country. Yeah.
Fang had a dragon.
He was so screwed.
… that pun? Not intentional. At all.
They stayed like that for a moment (Vanille nuzzling his hair, Hope trying to make sure that various parts of his anatomy did not move unnecessarily) before Hope got the courage enough to ask: "Vanille?"
"Mmmm-hmmm?"
"Why are you naked?"
There was a pause. He could hear the gears shifting in her brain. There was an 'ah' moment where she brightened and jumped a bit – putting all sorts of interesting things into motion – and all but shouted:
"Hope! Fang and I decided!"
Hope felt his jaw open with an audible click. What?
"We're going to make you a man! S'a great honor, you know."
Hope was pretty sure it only felt like there was steam coming out of his ears. The turning tomato red part he believed and endorsed and his heart was going at a million miles an hour and even if he'd gotten his crap together he really didn't feel ready to take the next step –
Wasn't this considered statutory rape?
"I'm too young?" He squeaked.
Vanille dismissed his concerns with an airy wave. "Oh silly, most people do it at twelve."
Okay, now he was definitely bright red.
And confused.
"You have to be naked too, you know." She sounded almost apologetic though Hope hadn't the faintest clue why. Then he felt her tugging at his shirt and he nearly had an aneurysm and his nose was bleeding and he wanted to stumble out of the closet but if anyone fit the description of stronger-than-they-look it was Vanille.
"Oh stop struggling." She muttered. "It's not going to be that painful-"
Painful? Why? It would? Would Fang bite? Did Vanille not actually like vanilla-
Speaking of Fang, where was she?
"-and after you've got the warpaint on, you'll have to kill something fierce! Raaa!" Vanille made swiping motions with her free hand.
It was adorable (even if it knocked over a can of paint thinner) but…
"Umm, could you repeat that?"
Vanille stopped struggling with his shirt. And as if lecturing to a very young child: "Hope, when a child comes of age they must go into the wilderness armed with nothing but their wits and spirit-"
Oh.
He was pretty sure that the Vanille needing to be naked part was covered under a different bullet point (and possibly altogether unnecessary) but still.
Oh.
"-hunt something fierce! I got a bear my first time-"
Hope nearly collapsed. Part of him was regretful, but a much greater part of him only felt relief. This was one of those Gran Pulse rite thingies he'd heard about. Vanille was drunk and trying to enact it or something. No big deal.
Right.
Keep on telling yourself that.
"Oh thank goodness." Hope muttered.
"Great!" Vanille said, hugging him. "Don't worry, you'll do fine."
It was at that point the younger of the two Farron sisters opened the closet door – turned bright red, and slammed it shut. The pitter-patter of dainty feet rushed off and was lost in the distance.
Hmmm.
Hope considered the possibility that Fang wasn't aware that Vanille had intended to 'make Hope a man.' Vanille was pretty drunk and they weren't actually on Gran Pulse at the moment and-
"BOYO-"
Yup. He was so gonna die.
Author's Notes: I contemplated shoving this into my drabble collection. But then it became too long. And so I figured, new category! Shipping oneshots! This one takes place in that ambiguous 'after-the-end-but-Fang-and-Vanille re-awaken and Cocoon is intact' setting. You know the one.
Okay, feel free to shoot me. Or suggest the next pairing. Hopefully it won't require alcohol and culture shock to make it work. |D
