REAR WINDOW

By: LECHERY

Disclaimers: FFXIII is not mine, I'm not selling this blab la bla. Just a little fanfiction.

Spoilers: nope.

Pairing: Fang/Lightning & Fang/Vanille

Rating: M for Mostly Perversion.

OOO

The heat was unbearable. Humidity thickened the air and the moisture stuck to her lungs, burdened to breathe. The darkness of the night provided little relief; hot air persisted without the aide of a fiery sun. Sweat trickled down spines and itched along the skin like little insects crawling. Hair damp with perspiration clung to foreheads and cheeks. Lips parted and panted. Fans worked overtime and drowned the night in their steady hum, provided some relief to those who sat in front of them. It was late, and the lights were out in every apartment except for one.

She leaned against the open window frame; hair whipped by the fan danced around her eyes. Her undershirt was pressed snuggly against her body, glued there by her sweat. It was all the clothing that she could bear in the heat. The apartment across the garden was engulfed in harsh light and a girl stood beneath pointed spotlights, posed against a white backdrop. Her face was heavily painted: dark ruby lips to age her youthful face, heavy shadow about her eyes, harsh blush on her cheeks, black liner and mascara. Lightning crossed her arms over her chest and licked her lips.

A light flashed in the studio as another figure moved: Fang in an unravelling sari. She was naked beneath the fabric, the folds tumbling away and revealing her breast when she dropped her arms to adjust the camera. In between shots, Fang switched the shutter speed, and Vanille's caricatured expression morphed into a devilish smile. She couldn't hear them; she could only watch as Fang spoke and Vanille resumed her former position, her feigned expression. The camera flashed and the scene replayed. Another series of instructions and Vanille picked at her clothing. She removed her shirt first, always in concert with the camera, aware of her photographer.

Lightning bit her bottom lip. Fang's expression erupted into a toothy grin. Vanille tossed her bra behind Fang and posed topless with her hands behind her head, her feet apart and legs straight. A series of flashes pulsed through the studio. Vanille bent toward a boa at her feet and tangled herself in it, wrapping it around her neck, weaving the soft feathers around her breasts, flicking her nipples to harden them for the camera. Fang gestured with her hands and the girl removed her skirt. She buried her thumbs in the hem of her panties and with deliberate slowness dragged them downward. Fang lowered her camera, caught in a daze. Light shuddered as the fan blasted her with cold air. It pulled her skin taut, electrified her nerves.

Fang approached the young girl and bent toward her lips, crushing them in a bruising kiss. They devoured each other. Vanille's nails dug into Fang's back, dragged down across her muscles and back up over her shoulder blades until her fingers tangled in her dark hair. Lightning strained to watch, imagined the moans escaping the young girl's mouth as Fang dipped to her neck and nipped her flesh. She trailed over the collarbone, wasted no time with any pretenses as her tongue darted out and licked Vanille's erect pink nipple. Vanille's hissed, teeth clenched. Lightning exhaled a breath and found her own fingers twined in soft curls slicked with wetness.

There was no tenderness in her movements; Fang caught a nipple and pulled at it with her teeth, flicked her tongue rapidly over it and then suckled it only to pull it back and watch it pop from her lips. She grabbed Vanille's breast in a fist and kneaded it, found the girl's mouth again to plunge her tongue inside. But as quickly as she'd risen, she dropped again to the girl's breast and bit at it, smacked the irritated flesh with an open palm and soothed the pain with another lick.

Vanille struggled from Fang's grasp and settled on top of a desk, her legs splayed wide and inviting. Fang sauntered over, cold and unaffected. The girl moistened her rouged lips. Her makeup was smudged around her mouth. Fang stood between her open legs and with spindle-like fingers seized Vanille's throat in a tight grip. She had her attention now; Vanille craned her neck to stare, mouth agape, into Fang's eyes. A smile spread across the huntress's face. Her maw latched onto the girl's lips again and journeyed down to the valley of her breasts, to her navel and finally rested at the apex between her legs. Fang relinquished her grip on Vanille's throat. Vanille braced herself on her bent forearms and wrapped a hand around the back of the huntress's head. Lightning was enthralled, firmly stroking the delicious bundle of nerves between her legs, gasping in the darkness of her apartment.

The girl shuddered and her hips bucked as Fang ran her tongue through her lower lips, unleashed the moisture collecting here. She lingered at the top, laving her tongue on the sensitive nerves, wrapping her lips around it to suckle it. Vanille's hands found her own breasts and she pinched her nipples as Fang worked her lower half. Lightning buried her fingers between her legs, aroused and mad with jealousy. She imagined herself in Vanille's place, Fang's lips around her clit, her fingers inside of all her entrances, firmly fucking her. Light moaned, the huntress on her lips. Heavy, hooded eyes watched the rippling muscles on Fang's tanned back, the sari falling away from her shoulders. Vanille's nails pierced Fang's shoulders, dragged paths of scarlet down her back.

Suddenly, Fang rose to her feet and gestured to the floor. Vanille wordlessly obeyed, her eyes averted to the floor, cheeks flushed. She turned, her back facing Fang, kneeling on the floor with her palms flat against the top of the desk. Her back and bottom were fully exposed. Fang walked out from her field of view. Light licked her lips and watched the young coiled body with interest.

Fang returned, a dark belt swinging from her vice grip. Light held her breath. Vanille shook violently. The solider imagined that she could hear it, the leather whipping through the air as it made a full revolution, smacking the ground upon descent, marking Fang's distance away from the desk. The huntress stood behind Vanille, the belt suspended from her clenched fist. She appeared to move slowly as Light watched her, as the belt arched back and came down on Vanille, as it broke through the skin of her back and a tendril of blood trickled from the slick cut. And then she did it again. Each strike was marked by a violent spasm from Vanille. But the girl never rose to her feet, and her flat palms never lifted from the desktop.

When she was satisfied, the huntress relented. Blood streaked Vanille's reddened back and bottom, now an indiscernible mess of scratches and cuts. Fang discarded the belt on the floor, divesting of what little she had left on her body. She hooked her hands into Vanille's armpits and pulled her up onto the desk. The loyal girl obeyed, sneaking a glance behind her. A hand snaked up to the girl's throat and Fang thrust her body up against Vanille's, crushing it against her own. Light moaned. Fang's hand dropped to Vanille's wetness and kneaded her, entered her. The other hand remained across the girl's neck, pressed against her windpipe.

Light could see the struggle in her expression, the stiffness of her body as the girl's legs trembled with release. Her cheeks flushed hot. Her own release shuddered from her body, her hips bucking against her hand. She bit her lip to stifle the sound of her pleasure. What was it like, she wondered, to be the object of Fang's experiment? To pair pleasure and pain until they were a pathway to one another, two sides of a pendulum swinging back and forth.

A flash. Lightning blinked. Spots swam in front of her vision as her senses returned. She looked out across the garden, into the other apartment. Fang dropped the camera to her chest, a smug expression glued to her face. Recognition in her eyes. Light gasped and scrambled to drop the blinds.

She knew.

To Be Continued…