Disclaimer: I do not own Star Ocean.
Crippled Clock Work
X
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Albel hacks at a tree in the castle's garden to piss Nel off.
The wench deserves a head ache after what she has put him through.
He is very tempted to etch a face smiling wickedly in the bark but that would be too childish.
Then again, taking his frustrations out on a tree isn't any better.
Maybe he should harass the maids or even threaten the cooks.
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Satisfied with the destruction he leaves behind, Albel twirls his sword while walking through the corridors.
His amusement doesn't last long; it isn't enough to smother images of Fayt holding his hand,
healing his wounds, being disgustingly tender.
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"None of those silly gestures matter," thinks Albel, halting outside the dining room.
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"I think it's more than just talking about a friend."
.
What a thought. What a thought.
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Albel laughs, shaking his head.
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"Mirage." Cliff recalled. "It's similar. Well, maybe, but when Fayt talks about you,
it's similar to the way I talk about Mirage. I couldn't help but notice."
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He quiets at the memory. It has been a day and Cliff's words refuse to leave his mind.
How can Fayt speak of him as if he is worthy of praise, as if he is priceless?
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"I am none of those things." Albel slams his fist on the wall.
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"Aw, really? Do I have to?"
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"Well, this is a first. You're reluctant to come back?" Albel does not recognize this voice.
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"It's not that Uncle Pic. I miss everyone a lot, you know?"
Albel hears Peppita whine as he opens the door just a crack.
The little girl kicks a column idly. "When do I have to be back?"
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"We'll pick you up in three days, is that ok?"
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Albel sighs in relief. Thank the gods, the brat is leaving.
He won't miss her, really, he won't.
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~o~
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Shuffle…Hmm?...Back off!...shuffle…PUNCH...Whoa!...What the fuck are you…? Hey! Kick. Slap!
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SMASH
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Oh god…Pull'em apart! CRASH. STOP WRECKING EVERYTHING! Dragggggggggg…smack. Stop it!
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Get'em apart!
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~o~
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Albel has always been taught to be aware of his emotions as a warrior,
to shut them out on the battlefield, to use them for deceptive purposes.
He thought a part of himself was a walking corpse, part of his emotions rotting with disuse.
Yet Fayt and his damnable presence is scraping the mold away,
cutting the stale bits off until his emotions look new again, ready to be of some good use.
.
Albel admits he is in denial when it comes to Fayt.
He is just as nasty, just as rude but he cannot seem to keep his hands off his companion.
He knows a certain emotion stirs him to be this way.
He has felt it before with his father, Count Woltar, even towards his king,
but this time the emotion sinks into a deeper layer of his skin than any of those bonds created.
.
He knows.
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In a dark corner of the castle, away from prying eyes and curious gazes, he admits it.
The confession is crooked instead of curved, wonky instead of balanced.
.
"Shit." He whispers, frowning while straightening his posture and continuing to walk, his pace quickening.
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~o~
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Cliff and Maria stroll through the main courtyard. Maria bows politely to the passing noblemen.
Cliff places his hand on his neck and the other rests on his hip.
The position has always seemed oddly comfortable to him.
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"It sucks Peppita is going to leave soon." Cliff comments and gazes at the sky.
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"She'll make it for the festival at least." Maria smiles, staring at Cliff's side profile.
She thinks it is in these times he does not look so arrogant.
His face is handsome when it's relaxed, his jaw strong and his eyes far away and cloudy.
She wonders where his mind is and wants to be there too.
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Beep. Beep. Beep.
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They halt by a fountain and Cliff picks up his communicator.
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"Hey Mirage!" Cliff beams, laughing as his fiancé scolds him.
He smiles sheepishly to Maria, who shoos him off so he can continue his conversation.
He walks a few feet away and Maria sits by the fountain.
She pulls her glove off and her fingers glide in the water, cool and languid against her skin.
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She sighs at how obnoxiously loud he is being, bending his head back, laughing.
He is having a more wonderful time with his communicator than with her.
.
The thought makes her glower and she decides to give them more privacy.
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"Hey, Mirage, I'll call you back later ok? I'm doing a few errands…"
Cliff trails off as he gazes at the empty water fountain. Confused, he searches around. Maria has disappeared.
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~o~
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The touches, the arguments, the secrets, the trust, the gestures, the stares, its all there.
Albel knows it is no matter how ridiculous the idea appears.
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~o~
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"Take two teaspoons of this powder and with it, the bruises will heal faster."
The doctor smiles at the woman, who hisses and snatches the burlap pack from her hands.
Nel glares at her and she apologizes immediately for her rudeness.
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"Who was that?" Clair calls, walking over to the pair standing in front of a shop.
The woman hurries away, escorted by a guard.
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"A possible witness. She claims to have seen someone walk into this shop before the victim's death.
She's being questioned for more details. Her injuries are unrelated to the incident but it doesn't hurt to investigate her.
It looks like she has been beaten by someone." Nel explains. Clair nods while staring at the cracked windows of the store front.
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"Where is the body?" Clair questions as they enter the shop. "Another girl?"
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"Whoever is doing this is really starting to piss me off." Nel comments,
crossing her arms as Clair gives her a skeptical eye. "Why pick on the innocent?"
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"It isn't just little girls you know." Clair shifts her scarf on her shoulders,
shielding her nose from the smell of the decaying body, which lies behind the counter,
also absent of bruises and blood. Her skin is pale like the flour caking her dress.
"I've been gathering reports from other towns nearby.
There have also been similar occurrences, not discriminating against age."
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"Which towns?"
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"Peterny for one. There were a few cases in which bodies appeared with no apparent wounds." Clair explains.
"If the townspeople ever think to link these occurrences together, rumors will spread quickly."
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"Along with fear. They will think all sorts of crazy ideas. We can't have that." Nel states firmly.
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~o~
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"He's asking questions." Albel says wearily.
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"Who?"
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"The ogre." Albel growls and leans against the door frame to Fayt's bedroom,
watching his companion pack for the oncoming trip. He shouldn't be here but he needs answers.
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"Don't call Cliff that." Fayt reprimands, shoving a pair of pants into his bag and clipping his communicator to his belt.
"And what are you talking about?"
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"He's suspicious of your actions as of late." Albel replies, closing the door behind him with his boot.
He reaches Fayt's bed and leans on the bed post, eyeing the ties that hold the bag closed.
"Your friends are moronic but when they are in the vicinity of suspicious activity, they suddenly turn intelligent."
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"I'll be careful." Fayt rolls his eyes, despite the worry creeping in his mind.
He already has an inkling Cliff is on to him.
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"I'm sure you will." Albel drawls. "He comes up with the strangest hypothesis."
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"Like what?" Fayt questions absentmindedly, checking off what else he intends to bring.
"I need a book." He whispers to himself, walking towards his desk, scanning through the stacked leaflets.
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"Ridiculous ideas," Albel waves his hand, dropping onto the mattress, the Crimson Scourge held above him.
He stares at his reflection in the metal, his eyes curious,
"on the lines of protection, secrecy, and deception, that sort of nonsense."
Fayt lifts an eyebrow at the description. "He even has this notion we're romantically involved."
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Fayt drops the book he carries, deaf to the clatter it makes as it hits the floor.
Albel seems amused, although his eyes are watchful, calculating, and gauging his reaction.
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Fayt slowly kneels to pick up the book but his hands freeze.
Of all the things to mention, why did Cliff have to say that?
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Fayt snaps his head upward to find Albel crouching at the edge of the bed, hand and claw sinking into the sheets.
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"Absurd isn't it?" Albel inquires, shifting so he is sitting on the bed properly, leering at him.
"That we-" pausing, he bends beside Fayt and notices his clenched fists.
"-could be-" his metal digits caress Fayt's cheek, scratching his skin.
He grabs his chin forcefully until their staring at one another.
Fayt appears vulnerable and filled with something he can't quite-
.
No, Albel knows this gaze: this quiet yearning to be smothered by desire.
He has seen it before on the smirking faces of prostitutes when he strolled through the streets of Airyglyph,
or the maids who poured wine for the rowdy patrons at the pub.
.
It is disturbing to see it so naked in Fayt's eyes.
It is even more disturbing when he realizes he stared at Fayt in this way before.
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"-lovers?" Albel finishes, leaning in until his nose is to Fayt's cheek.
.
This is not him-this is not me-but no one is watching, no one will know.
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Fayt's heart races to a finish line he can't reach.
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"I expect to be looked at when I'm talking to you." Albel grabs his arm,
bringing them closer until they have double vision.
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Fayt tries to collect himself, warring with the urge to rip that strange expression off Albel's face.
He can hear the ticking of the clock in his ear, low and foreboding.
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"What do you think of Cliff's speculations?" Albel asks,
snatching a fistful of Fayt's hair, tilting his head upward, his nose trailing down his neck. "Has he asked you about this?"
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Fayt attempts to pull away from this contact he secretly craves for.
Albel's grip tightens as he continues his ministrations, his lips tracing Fayt's collarbone,
ascending, ascending until he draws close, a thin ribbon of air between their lips. Elongated minutes elapse.
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"I won't make a move." Albel states seriously, eyelids lowering.
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"What?" Fayt inhales sharply, shoulders stiffening, his back grinding into the bed post.
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"If what I am doing is making you uncomfortable, say or do something about it."
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The saying is difficult, the doing is tempting, and this position is suffocating.
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"Will it mean anything to you if I do something?" Fayt asks breathlessly, catching on immediately.
There is no way to mistake the situation he finds himself in.
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"Will it mean something to you?"
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The silence stretches, strains, snaps.
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"Because if it does this won't end well." Albel whispers darkly.
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"What are you implying?" Fayt raises his eyebrows in surprise.
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"You know exactly what I mean." Albel glares.
"Whatever the hell is going on between us has to stop. Now."
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~o~
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Maria sits in a quiet café on a side street, away from the bustling crowd.
She hopes she has chosen a hidden enough place to be alone with her thoughts.
.
She sips her tea while crossing her leg over the other.
This day encompasses everything she is; the still air, the empty sky, the hollowness of the café.
She swirls the steaming liquid in her cup with a scratched ridden spoon, her plate of sweets already empty,
thinking of blond hair, red lips, wedding catalogs, and dress patterns.
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She takes out her communicator, noting the four missed calls from Cliff, and scrolls through her inbox.
The damn wedding invitation is still there with its cream background and slanted black text.
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"You do remember Mirage taught me how to hack into devices so I can locate certain persons of interests."
Cliff deadpans, startling Maria, who clicks the screen to her communicator off, pocketing the device quickly.
In her absorbed thinking, she did forget that.
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"It's not like me to forget things."
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Cliff sits across from Maria with a quizzical expression.
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"You left me." Cliff states flatly, a slight whine in his tone.
Maria smiles faintly before she continues to drink her tea.
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"You left me first." She jokes.
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"It was a phone call and I didn't take long. I got worried when you suddenly disappeared."
He replies, face darkening. "Why'd you do that?"
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"Sorry, something came up." Maria places her cup on the table in exasperation.
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"What was so important that you couldn't warn me before you left?" Cliff's annoyance is apparent.
He is surprised to find Maria ignore him instead, place money on the table, and rise from her seat.
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He grabs her wrist.
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"What's wrong?" Cliff furrows his eyebrows. Maria is usually collected and direct with her opinions.
It's the first time he sees her at a loss for words and looking ashamed.
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"I'm just-" Maria pauses, unsure of how to phrase her answer.
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"You know you can talk to me about anything." Cliff tugs her forward, fully facing one another.
"What happened? You've been acting odd lately."
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"Have I?"
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"Yeah, I don't like it."
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"How do you want me to act, then?" Maria retorts, frustrated with his caring tone and worried eyes.
"Like I don't have anything that stresses me out?"
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"That's not what I'm saying and you know it. I want to help."
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"Don't worry about it." Maria turns but is pulled back forcefully into a strong embrace,
Cliff trapping her arms to his chest.
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"Hey." He whispers softly, resting his cheek on her hair.
"We've known each other for awhile. You can count on me, right? That hasn't changed, has it?"
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Maria's eyelids lower as she grips his vest,
wanting to push this warmth away because she knows she steals it from someone else.
She knows this is an embrace she cannot call her own.
She doesn't belong in these arms but she doesn't pull away either.
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"If there is something you want but can't have, would you still go after it?" Maria questions quietly.
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"What do you mean?" Cliff asks, pulling away but Maria wraps her arms around his middle.
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"Forget it…never mind." She answers.
"We should head back. We have to leave soon for the festival anyway."
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~o~
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"What?" Fayt widens his eyes. "You don't think that-"
Albel glares at him and he has his answer. "You do."
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"It's been quite an obvious issue we chose to ignore,"
ridicules Albel, "and I won't do so anymore."
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"How obvious?" Fayt shouts, suddenly angry.
"Stop making assumptions. You don't know how I feel-"
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"I do know how I feel." Albel says and Fayt stills.
He never thinks Albel to give such a thing much thought.
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"…About?"
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"You want to feign ignorance just like you do with your powers?
Is that the path you really want to take with me?"
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"What does it matter?" Fayt yells defensively. "You want this-" He points between them,
"-to be over, so it will." He picks up his bag irritably, only to be yanked backwards.
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"I'm not done talking to you yet!"
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"I'm done, so get the hell off me." Fayt's eyes glow like blueberries painted in moonlight.
Albel isn't intimidated by the partial appearance of Fayt's inner chaos. His grip stays firm.
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"You will stand here and wait till-" fire licks Albel's lips, searing and scaring.
Screams that aren't his own rumble inside his mouth, drop into his throat, and vibrate in his stomach.
They push into his veins, growing louder until his body hums.
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Fayt forces their lips to bend and break, mold and mend.
He grips Albel's cheeks roughly, massaging and angling his mouth on Albel's own.
They hit the edge of the bed and Fayt falls on top of him.
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Fayt is tired of having to hold back, of being careful, of pretending.
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He presses his lips further, the kiss open mouthed and swollen,
pulsating blue veins appearing on Albel's face.
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Fayt hears Albel's voice in his head as if his thoughts filter through the kiss.
It's difficult for him to comprehend those sloppy and loud words,
but he hears Albel's self loathing, his blame for his father's death.
It is a mantra in Albel's mind Fayt tries to stop.
The thoughts are too shrouded in shadows for him to hold on to.
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Fayt doesn't realize his own thoughts buzz in Albel's brain, ricocheting off its walls.
He hears Fayt's pain for his father, loss for his mother, fear for his friends,
and there it is, his feelings for him, naked, out of control.
Albel grabs onto them, surprised at how deep Fayt's affection for him goes,
how endless it seems, not realizing he kisses Fayt back by doing so,
tongue on tongue, wet like the tears they never shed,
scalding hot like his hand and claw on Fayt's waist.
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Albel's thoughts are so heavily cloaked in darkness Fayt has to break the kiss.
They're frazzled, undone, and breathing heavily. He marvels at the usage of his powers. He hadn't expected this.
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"I-" Fayt touches his lips slowly, eyes unfocused. He thinks to apologize but a question tumbles out instead.
"If you say this is over, then why didn't you pull away?"
He sits up, straddling Albel's hips, watching the veins disappear.
"I know I'm being a coward over a lot of things.
I'm scared of killing this sense of family I've made with my friends.
I'm scared I'll hurt others with these powers I have, but you know, I've been really scared of losing you."
Fayt admits shakily, laughing bitterly. "I have all these horrible dreams about you.
Watching you suffer in your sleep doesn't help either.
I've been meditating though; I'm trying to at least resolve this issue with myself." Fayt bites his lips.
"So don't shut out this possibility of us just yet. I refuse to hear you say no without even trying."
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Fayt gasps as he is flipped over, metal and flesh digging into his wrists.
Albel hovers above him, eyes narrowed and stormy. He makes no comment on Fayt's powers because this time,
he has gotten something out of this exchange. He got more answers than he bargained for.
.
"And if I say no anyway?" Albel whispers menacingly. His words lack cruel intent.
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"I'll come after you because if your questioning me now, I'll know you don't really mean to say no."
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"You don't know that."
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"I'm hoping I do."
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"You're an idiot like the rest of the maggots you associate with!"
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"Then you're an idiot with me!"
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Albel releases Fayt's wrist and pulls at his collar as if about to punch him.
He is ready to argue but he is too close to Fayt's face, his lips.
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He releases his companion and storms out the room.
.
This is a moment of weakness Albel will never be able to live down
because he actually believes in Fayt's feelings.
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