For Ceymallyn


Sanctuary was the kind of place Tidus liked because it was full of water. Grinding on the light was also an amusing way to pass the time.

His and Firion's steps made splashing noises. They exchanged glances. Tidus waggled his eyebrows. "Race...?"

Firion hesitated, pausing and looking at the nearest stream of light. He was tempted, Tidus could tell. He gave Tidus one more sneaky, side-along glance before dashing away.

"Oi!" shouted Tidus and dashing away himself, then running through the water, trying to catch up. Even with all that armour Firion was a fast runner, the bastard. So naturally Tidus summoned his blitzball and threw it at Firion's head.

It impacted hard. The weapons master grunted and then fell to the ground face first. Tidus laughed and laughed, clutching his stomach, even as he arrived at his friend's side. Firion was slow to get up, and Tidus sobered as concern trickled into his senses.

"You okay?" he asked.

There was a pause as Firion, now standing upright, was facing away from him. Then he abruptly turned, jumped and tackled Tidus to the wet ground. There wasn't even a slope but they managed to roll quite a ways, round and round, legs getting tangled, each trying to get on top of the other.

Finally they did stop with Firion victorious on top, pinning Tidus down with his body and hands holding Tidus's wrists above his head. Tidus moaned in defeat and wriggled underneath the solid weight.

Firion let go of Tidus's wrists and levered himself half-way and looked over to the side. Below his ash-blonde bangs his eyes widened as they locked onto something.

"What is it?" said Tidus, sitting up abruptly and accidently banging his forehead with Firion's.

"Ow," they muttered. Then Firion answered, "I think a fight took place here. There's a huge crater."

Tidus was leaning back on his elbows. He could see it: it was a large hole in the ground and the water from the area had flooded into it, filling it up. It was about the size of a –

"Swimming pool," said Tidus, grinning.

Firion looked down at him. "What?"

"Swimming crater," Tidus corrected, and made to get up (though it took a second for them to get untangled, Tidus almost tripping over Firion's legs and Firion had to lean on Tidus for balance.)

Tidus was already getting excited: he could feel the thrill in his belly bubbling up to his throat. He started to strip: first went the gloves, then the modern-style vambraces, then his jacket flew off the same time he toed off his shoes.

Firion made a deep, choked noise behind him. "What are you doing?"

"I haven't had a bath in, like," – Tidus thought about it, fingers on his belt buckle – "a really long time." He stripped of his shorts, bending over to pull them off proper, bare ass in the air. There was another choked noise from behind him which was to be expected – he was giving the poor man a good show, after all.

But Tidus was neither vain nor shy and he was with his best bud, hanging out – so what if his tackle was hanging out too? He turned around, fists on hips. "Take off your clothes!" he demanded, then turned around and ran, jumped, dive-bombed into the water.

Being deep in water, cool, weightless – it felt so incredibly good, he could stay there forever. The bottom of the pool showed the meteorite that had caused the crater; it was lodged securely in rocky bottom, and its heat was making the water warm. It was all very wonderful, but it wasn't fun without Rosebud in the water with him. He surfaced, treading water.

Firion had come over to the edge of the pool and had unequipped his weapons and the armour on the top half of his body. A light sheen of sweat covered his golden torso, and a blush was staining his cheeks and neck, and it was starting to creep down his chest. His hands lingered on his pants, hesitating. Tidus took in a mouth full of water and expelled it out at Firion, splashing him right on his stomach.

Tidus swam backwards and floated gently. "What're you waiting for?" he said playfully. "Want me to sing some porn music while you strip? Boom chika chika bow wow..."

"Turn around," Firion said.

Tidus pouted. "Ah man," he whined, "no fair," but did as was requested.

Once both in they shared a moment of silent washing. Firion had taken off his bandana and let loose his hair, and was washing it as best he could. Tidus spun underwater: black flipping, forward flipping, twisting. In the end they both leant on the edges parallel to each other, chatting.

"Do you think it's true?" asked Tidus. "About what Cloud said, I mean."

Firion gave him an enquiring look.

"About us returning," Tidus clarified, "once the conflict has ended."

Firion inhaled deeply through his nose as he thought about it. He said, "Sure."

"What if I – " Tidus began, before stopping and looking down at his reflection in the water. "What if I don't want to return?"

Firion looked at him in alarm. "What?"

Tidus couldn't look at him. Through his melancholy he persisted with his explanation. "Sometimes I feel like... my world was just a dream. That I'm just a dream." How could he explain it? He couldn't. "Besides," he added more optimistically, lifting his head. "If we go back, we can't hang out – "

He stopped mid-sentence as a perfect red rose floated over to him. He looked up, caught Firion's sweet smile, then plucked the rose from the water, lifted it to his nose and smelt its fragrance.

"Mmmm," he said, "smells like you."

Firion splashed him.

- End