Ardent
By: Albedosreqium / Soyna
Setting: Pre Crisis Core…
Rating, Genre and Warnings: M, Passionate. Yaoi.
Characters: Lazard and Kunsel.
Disclaimer: All related Final Fantasy names and characters are copyrighted by the almighty Square Enix©. I do not profit from this endeavour.
Summary and Additional Information: For :iconvvkiti: won my kirbain. She wanted Kunsel, Lazard with the word Ardent.
They both had the same passions for revenge against Shin-Ra and then it developed into one for each other.
ar·dent (är'dnt)
adj. 1. Expressing or characterized by warmth of feeling; passionate: an ardent lover.
2. Displaying or characterized by strong enthusiasm or devotion; fervent: "an impassioned age, so ardent and serious in its pursuit of art" (Walter Pater).
3.a. Burning; fiery.
b. Glowing; shining: ardent eyes.
They both hated Shin-Ra for different reasons, and it had brought them together in a strange and odd way. It still amazed Kunsel that a man like Lazard had so many secrets hidden behind his calm exterior.
Even when he was a member of the security force, Kunsel couldn't help but admire the man; he always cool and calm in the face of impending danger.
When Lazard was not yet the Director of SOLDIER and just a member of the board, he set himself apart from the rest. Not only with his purple jacket but with how he could easily handle himself in any situation — boardroom or battlefield.
He was the only one of the executive in their stuffy suits that did not flinch when a Summon rose behind them and joined in the battle they were observing. Lazard stepped to the side, pushed up his glasses and watched the battle continue as the rest ran back in the vehicles.
It was amazing.
When Kunsel became a Third Class SOLDIER and was directed by him, he couldn't help but admire him more. His calm, smooth voice sent chills down his spine; chills that he tried really hard to ignore.
Like everything else, he was curious because some of Lazard's actions in the field contradicted the words in the boardroom. He would notice that the official orders would say one thing and then he would be telling people, mainly Genesis, to do something else in the field, or have a double meaning to his words.
This in itself was not something that was unusual within Shin-Ra, but there seemed to be an underlying cause that didn't fit the other secrets that floated around the company.
He spent days digging up information on Lazard and because it was hard to get the information he had to use all his tricks to find out his history. And it was an interesting history indeed.
He found out about Lazard's family history and the connections that he had with Shinra. He even followed Lazard into the slums where the Director would visit his ailing mother. It was touching to see the man lead the frail woman onto the balcony where they would sit in what little sun that part of the slums had.
It made him pine for his own lost family. He didn't have the option to talk to his parents, his sisters or his uncles as they were all destroyed by Shin-Ra. He still didn't understand what his father and uncles did to raise the ire of Shin-Ra and had his house visited by the Turks.
But that was why he was still searching and trying to understand.
He could have joined AVALANCHE to seek his revenge but then he wouldn't get any understanding for why it happened, and he needed to know why.
The simple saying, 'Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer' applied to both of them.
It was two years ago that Lazard had confronted him about his snooping in the data bases and the information that he found. Two years ago that everything changed between them in a way that he could have never imagined.
He had stood nervously in Lazard's office with the Director sitting coolly at his desk, his hands tented under his chin, leaning forward. Kunsel couldn't read his eyes as the light was reflecting off his glasses.
"Your computer skills are quite impressive," Lazard said in a tone that sent that dreaded chill down his spine that he always had a hard time interpreting.
He swallowed hard. "Sir?"
Lazard rose slowly and walked around the desk. Kunsel remembered being terrified as he watched the tall, graceful man move, slowly unbuttoning his purple jacket and then putting his hands in his pocket of his pants. Lazard casually leaned back against his desk as he stared down at him. There was a tension showing despite that casual pose.
Kunsel had just become a Third Class SOLDIER and there was a real fear that he was going to be demoted back to the security force. He thought he had covered all his tracks when he was looking through the files. He thought he had avoided all the traps and alerts that were set. He took the time to make sure that there was nothing there that showed that he had been looking. He had been certain, but he must have forgotten something.
He thought he was screwed.
"Take off your helmet," Lazard said as he leaned forward and slid his hands out of his pockets so that his white gloves were now pressing on his thighs.
Kunsel was always hesitant to remove his helmet. It was the part of the uniform that he liked because it hid his face. It was perfect for hiding his distinctive features that everyone always asked him questions about and that he didn't like talking about.
"Sir?" he whispered and tried to control the shake that was in his voice, but failed. He had worked hard to get into SOLDIER and hoped he hadn't ruined it because of his curiosity.
"Remove your helmet, Alfred," Lazard commanded.
Kunsel hesitantly did as he was told and held it under one of his arms. He brushed his shaggy, russet hair over the left side of his face and lowered his head. He always felt afraid to look at other people when he didn't have the protection of his helmet on. He was so used to it hiding his face that he felt naked without it. He really did like wearing the helmet. He only ever took it off in the privacy of his apartment or when he was sleeping.
He was a bit startled when a white, gloved hand pressed against his chin and forced him to look up. The other hand brushed back his hair to expose the left side of his face. He focused on the pale blue eyes and saw a kind look returned to him.
The scar that he tried to hide from the world was being exposed. It ran down his forehead and cut into his cheek. The top of his left ear was missing as well. In off hours, he wore a toque and kept his hair in front of it. Seldom did anyone notice that he had these disfiguring features because he hid it so well. He had learned to hide the blade scars at an early age at the foster home in which he was raised.
He was alarmed as Lazard's hand traced along the edges of the scars on his cheek. "We all have reasons for being here. Some are more visible and explainable than others."
Kunsel swallowed hard. He was scared, nervous and slightly turned on by the Director's soothing voice and touch. He was also well aware how inappropriate all these feelings were.
"We can assist each other," Lazard said and ran a hand through his hair, moving it further from his face. Kunsel grew more nervous and self-conscious. He felt exposed having his scar being examined. Cotton finger tips began brushing against warming skin. Kunsel was startled at his own reaction as he leaned into the touch.
"How?" Kunsel said when he was able to breathe again.
Lazard's cool eyes and even colder smile sent an icy chill through him as he leaned forward, and very warm lips suddenly touched his.
hr
Kunsel was never one to think that he ever would get distracted from his original goal. He always had to find more information to avenge the loss of his family. That was always his objective and the only path that he had to follow, until Lazard stepped boldly into his life.
Lazard brought out a new level of passion and desire in him that he didn't know could exist. The knowledge and the past pain that they shared brought them closer to each other's goal and closer to each other.
Their time together was always comfortable and a treat in both their hectic schedules. Sometimes they sat in front of a computer trying to break through firewalls or reading documents to each other. There were even days where they would visit Lazard's mother and join her for dinner. They would talk of the past in soft voices as Lazard would walk with him as they visited the graveyard where his family was buried. They would talk about how they were both wronged by the company Shin-Ra or the family Shinra. These nights always led to finding comfort in those words, in each other's arms and eventually into Lazard's bed.
Lazard …
He was sleeping now. The Director was always a light sleeper and Kunsel seldom had the opportunity to observe him when he was like this. Lazard had been tired lately and soon passed out after their earlier physical activity.
There were so many things going on that they even seldom had time to be together like this, and Kunsel was going to take advantage of the rare moment. Lazard tended to soften when he slept but he still had regal and sharp features that Kunsel loved to trace his fingers over. He knew that Lazard spent an hour on the treadmill every morning trying to stay in shape. He often complained that the hours behind the desk made him soft.
There was the worry that he wouldn't be able to fight back when he needed to because of that. It was a constant worry that Lazard had and no amount of encouragement that Kunsel gave him would alleviate his fears.
Kunsel allowed his hand to run over his shoulder and down his arm. Lazard had wonderfully lean muscles that were deceiving in strength. He traced the muscles and stopped at a series of new pink scars that he gained a few weeks ago from a run in with Dark Nation and Rufus.
He smiled as he remembered how Lazard had sent Rufus the bill for the new jacket because of the one that Dark Nation destroyed. Kunsel gladly handed the paperwork to Rufus and watched steam come out of the younger man's ears as the young Vice-President tried to coolly pass it over to his secretary to have it paid. Kunsel was well aware of how Rufus' hand was shaking and the anger that was beneath his surface.
It was amusing how the two played on their hatred for each other.
He moved to examine Lazard's hands. Lazard always wore gloves in public to hide his own series of scars. The gloves made his hands softer and Kunsel knew that it bugged Lazard that his hands were not roughened liked the others around him. Showing his burns bothered him more, so he continued to wear his gloves.
It was much like his own disfigurements in that way.
Kunsel traced the marks on his palms that Lazard would rub when he was upset. Lazard didn't even realize he was doing that action, but Kunsel did. He noticed everything that he did.
Kunsel turned his attention to his hip bone and earned a soft and sleepy groan as Lazard turned his head. Kunsel was tempted to move up and kiss that sharp jaw line and wake him. He held himself back for the moment and just let himself admire him for a few more minutes.
He ran his hand up Lazard's thigh and then again. The thick muscle was warm to the touch and as he traced his skin, he raised some delicate goose-bumps. He inhaled deeply as he moved closer to him. His smell was something that he could never get enough of. Lazard smelled musky from their earlier activity, as well as the underlying smell of clean linens.
Kunsel allowed his hands to travel up his flat stomach. Lazard would complain that he did a million sit-ups but could never get the definition of the SOLDIERs that surrounded him. Lazard never thought he was strong enough and Kunsel often had to remind him that force and strength didn't all have to be in the muscle.
It was a regular discussion that they had. Instead of using their muscles and bombs to seek their dues for the suffering that was brought upon them, they used their wits and intellect. Lazard was certain that it would not be enough. Kunsel kept telling him otherwise. It was a discussion where they could not concede a point of agreement.
Lazard would argue with him. "There has to be a certain amount of strength to finish this. We can't just file paperwork and shuffle memos around. There has to be action. You joining SOLDIER is evidence of that as well."
"It should be at a last resort. You have to get everyone's thought on the same page or else any physical action will fail. You know this." Kunsel would argue back. "Have we really won in Wutai with bullying our way in there? The people do not accept Shin-Ra and there will be another war because of that."
"We aren't talking about a country. We are talking about Shin-Ra."
"The art of war is the same whether it is a country, company or a family." Kunsel knew that statement got to Lazard as his face would fall; a look that Lazard only allowed himself when they were alone. It was also a cue that the conversation was over. Mentioning of family often turned their moods sour but there was a final comfort they found each other with the pain.
Kunsel gave in to the urge to kiss him. He leaned over and kissed Lazard's small belly button and then began to move upward with quick kisses.
Lazard twisted in his sleep and his member stirred in the nest of blond-white hair. Kunsel looked up to see if he was still sleeping. He was greeted with the lovely view of his lips parting and his pink tongue move along his already-moistened lips.
Kunsel pressed himself into Lazard's hip and started to run his hands over his smooth chest.
That earned him a groan and Lazard's eyes blinked opened and looked down at him. "Is it morning?" he asked in a sleepy voice as he stretched.
"Nope," Kunsel said and ran his hands down to fondle Lazard's awakening groin. "Not even midnight yet."
Lazard groaned. "You never let me sleep." He didn't sound displeased. Kunsel was rewarded with the Director reaching toward him and brushing his hair from his face. "I wish you would cut it."
"You know I can't."
"You can still hide behind your helmet," Lazard said, continuing to comb his fingers through his hair.
"Shut up and kiss me already," Kunsel said and moved up Lazard's body to capture his lips — a deep and caring kiss that Kunsel never knew could carry so much feeling in it. That was stuff that was supposed to be reserved for romance novels.
He kept his hands moving in a slow and steady pace as they kissed, and eventually their actions moved to a fevered pace that demanded more. He moved to straddle Lazard once he felt that they were ready.
"Alfred," Lazard moaned. Kunsel always hated his first name but he loved how it sounded when Lazard spoke it during moments like these. He knew time was getting short between them as the turmoil within the company was coming to a peak.
Kunsel never wanted it to end but knew that things were going to be rough in the upcoming weeks. They both had heard the rumblings within the ranks and were getting ready for the changes that were to come.
They could only hope that they had planted enough seeds to get the revenge that they sought and at the same time, be able to remain together.
:iconvvkiti: So, here is Lazard and strikeAlfred/strike Kunsel. A little bit of smut and full of passion. I hope that you enjoyed this.
I scarred the men in this one by taking my own take on things ... and this one was a hard one to get to work for me for some reason. I hit a bump but I got back on track.
Hope you enjoy.