Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me; I am getting no cash for this story. No suing please.
Note: This is story is not to be taken seriously. It's just some silly fluff that I wrote in the wake of a more intense fic (which I will be posting here soon). The rating is for language and mature situations (no lemon, I'm sorry to say. I don't feel like getting banned).
Special thanks to Gothatheartholo for beta-ing.
"A Tale of Plum Wine and Passion"
It was three o' clock in the morning. Fayt Leingod couldn't sleep and was beginning to realize that he was hungry as well. It seemed terribly silent in his empty room at the Front Door Inn.
Not too long ago, Albel Nox would have been in the bed next to his, tossing and turning and muttering in his troubled slumber or keeping Fayt up with his inexplicable need to debate about any given issue in the wee hours of morning. Fayt hadn't seen him since the night before when Cliff had announced that he had wanted to have a party to commemorate Luther's defeat. The swordsman had been gone in the morning without even saying a word on where he was going or even a simple goodbye.
Fayt pulled on his pants and crossed the room to a small dining table and chairs. Sophia had spent the entire day cooking and had made too much food. She had explained that she knew Cliff's appetite and had expected Albel to be in attendance as well.
Fayt unwrapped the leftover cake from the party and cut a slice. He sat in the dark and ate, barely tasting it, too wrapped up in his contemplation.
It wasn't as if the celebration had been bad. Fayt hadn't been to a party since he had graduated from high school and back then, he had yet to meet Cliff. He had certainly made things interesting and had even encouraged Maria to do a little drinking. To no one's surprise, she held her liquor well, but had become miraculously mischievous. She had talked Cliff and Mirage into engaging in a drinking contest. The last time Fayt had seen of Cliff, he had been clinging to Mirage, babbling about how much he loved her.
Fayt had had fun; Maria's antics and a tipsy-from-wine Sophia grilling a perplexed Nel about her love life had amused him. He hadn't missed Albel at all, hadn't chuckled ruefully as he imagined the swordsman's reaction to certain situations. No, not at all, and he certainly wasn't listlessly eating a chocolate cake, wondering why he hadn't even said goodbye.
The one thing that Fayt hadn't liked about the party had been how everyone wanted to talk about the future. Fayt didn't know what he was planning to do when it came time for them to part ways. He had grown so close to everyone that he didn't want to think that their adventures together were over.
Yet he knew everyone had an idea about what they wanted to do, where they belonged and so he felt that he had no right to stop them.
Well, almost everyone…
Albel still seemed shiftless, vague and silent about the future and his plans. For some reason that kept on returning to Fayt. As much as it confused him, Fayt knew he would miss Albel as much as anyone else, perhaps even more so. Compared to his other companions, Fayt had spent the most time with Albel and had put the biggest effort in trying to get to know the man. Never mind the fact that his curiosity and admiration got mixed up with unfamiliar desires; never mind the fact that he sometimes felt like he could spend hours just watching him move and days listening to him talk.
It was hard for Fayt to imagine a day going by that he didn't argue with the man or have some amazing moment that became subtly precious, changing things between them just a little bit more. Fayt scowled at the morsel of cake on the end of his fork. What the hell is wrong with me? he thought. Sometimes I feel like I'm in love with him, but that can't possibly be so… How can I fall for someone I barely even know?
His lips twisted in vague disgust. Fayt was beginning to feel silly, like a teenage girl pining over unrequited love. He had never been good at telling people about his emotions when they ran deeper than friendship, but Fayt had never felt so twisted and anxious over any one person before.
Fayt sighed and shook his head. This was getting ridiculous. The next time I see him, I'm going to say something…
There was a knock on the door followed by a familiar voice announcing, "I'm coming in."
Fayt blinked, not really thinking as he acknowledged his visitor. When Albel Nox stepped through the open doorway, Fayt swallowed hard. He seriously wished that he hadn't made that silent promise.
The swordsman scowled, looking around the room with his left hand awkwardly clamped over one hip and a bottle of wine in his right hand. "Did I miss the party?" he asked.
"Uh yeah," Fayt replied, "by about four hours."
"Hmm," Albel narrowed his eyes. "Well, that's fine." He crossed the room and the movement of his body was so languid and fluid that Fayt was having difficulty not staring at him. An annoying, fluttery sensation was making his stomach churn. He felt like he wanted to throw up but that wasn't quite right…
Albel placed the bottle on top of the table, next to the cake, and grinned wickedly. "I've always preferred small, private affairs anyway."
Fayt's eyes met his devious expression and frowned, wondering just what Albel was up to.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Fayt knew that he was drunk even though he had never experienced intoxication before. He felt a little dizzy and it seemed like the world around him had gone fuzzy along the edges. Fayt wasn't really sure how he had gotten to this state. It seemed that his wineglass had never been fully drained.
Albel didn't seem to be having the same difficulties and was saying something that Fayt was having trouble keeping track of because Albel's voice was just so damned sensual. He tried to concentrate on the movement of his mouth but found that to be even more distracting. His lips were gently curving, soft-looking, and Fayt wondered what it would be like to kiss him.
What a minute…Fayt blinked, since when?
"Are you listening to me, fool?" Albel snapped suddenly, drawing Fayt out of his reverie.
"Huh? What?"
Albel smirked slightly and sipped at the plum wine. "Are you quite all right, Fayt? You look a bit ill."
"I'm fine," Fayt mumbled. "I'm just a little drunk."
"Seriously? Only women and small children get drunk off plum wine. You disappoint me, Fayt."
He liked the way Albel said his name, in a slow, vaguely sinister drawl. Fayt had never really liked his name but if Albel kept on saying it like that he could be convinced that it was the best name ever. He scowled nonetheless even though he was beginning to feel tingly all over. "Isn't that a sexist comment?"
"Excuse me?" Albel looked slightly put out in his confusion.
"Er… Sexist, you know, when you say something that degrades someone's gender."
"I wasn't degrading anyone," Albel scoffed, "merely stating a fact. You say the strangest things."
Fayt groaned. "I can't debate with you when I'm like this."
"How lucky for me."
"Ugh, did you get me drunk on purpose?"
"Certainly not. Where would that get me?" Albel smirked. "Or do you fear that I would take advantage of you?"
Fayt blinked. "Um, what?"
Albel chuckled. "You never did answer my question."
He was getting dizzy from Albel's constant mind-fucking. "What question?"
"The one you missed because you were too busy staring at me."
"Oh, errrr…um…" Damn, he noticed.
"Do you think that you can pay attention this time?"
"Don't talk down to me," Fayt snapped.
"I'll speak to you as I see fit," Albel countered flippantly. "The question was: What are you planning to do now that Luther is gone? Are you going to leave? Make a little life with Sophia or Maria?"
Fayt made a face. "You're kidding me, right? Sophia's practically my sister and Maria…I don't know…I think we'd end up killing each other before long… Anyway what do you care? You're probably just going to go back to Airyglyph and back to being Albel the Wicked or whatever."
"Actually I was planning on doing a bit of traveling," Albel replied with a lazy grin, "I should thank you worms. I think that I was in a bit of a rut anyway. There are no challenges left for me. Perhaps if I look beyond this continent, I'll find a bit of a sport."
"Sounds interesting," Fayt replied glumly. "Have fun with that."
"Why do you sound so upset?" Albel seemed to tease him. "Do you not have any plans of your own?"
Fayt was silent, somewhat sobered due to the seriousness of the question. There were just too many uncertainties. Was Earth still gone? What of his mother? And how could he consider going back to a normal, mundane life after all that he had been through? All this and his confounding feelings toward Albel made it difficult for Fayt to answer for certain.
Albel stood gracefully and moved around the table in order to stand in front of Fayt. He looked up into the Glyphian's face, oddly aroused by the confidence and dominance he seemed to embody. Fayt half-wished that Albel would make the first move and end the tension that crackled between them like electricity.
"Why don't you come with me?"
Fayt blinked. "Are you serious?"
Albel smirked. "Of course, aren't I always?"
Fayt was suddenly standing up, unsteadily, protesting as he wavered. "Are you nuts? I can't just ditch my family and friends, my entire life just to traipse around the planet with you! What would we do? Where would we go?"
"Does it matter?" Albel leered as he wrapped his right arm around Fayt's waist. Fayt wondered if Albel wasn't just a little bit drunk because he had never been so bold before… "Can you honestly tell me that you can go back to your dull little existence—especially since you've met me?"
Arrogant bastard, Fayt thought. He scowled, trying very hard not to notice how warm Albel's body was. "How do you know it was dull?" Fayt muttered.
"It couldn't have been terribly exciting to waste so much time with the little princess, hmm? And anyway your lifestyle is too soft. Celestial ships and instant gratification makes for a very idle existence, wouldn't you agree?"
Albel's fingers kneaded the small of Fayt's back, making his legs feel sort of watery. He leaned closer to Albel, only to keep his balance, of course, and not because he wanted to be pressed more fully against his body. "Modern life is so hard," Fayt murmured as Albel began moving his hand up and down his bare back.
He couldn't remember when his shirt had come off. Little chilly bolts of sensation sparked up and down his spine and thus distracted him from the fact that he had not been wearing his shirt in the first place.
Fayt nearly jumped out of his skin at the feel of Albel's breath against his ear. "So what do you think, Fayt? Do you want me?"
"What?" Fayt panted meeting his sly gaze with a shocked expression. Did he just say what I think he said…?
"Pay attention, fool," Albel replied. "I asked if you wanted to travel with me."
"No, you didn't," Fayt protested feebly, feeling increasingly frustrated. "Stop messing with me, Albel!"
He chuckled lightly and closed the space between them. Their lips brushed softly and Fayt felt as if he would faint or die or scream or all of the above in no particular order. "You're drunk," Albel breathed, "and you're hearing things."
"Stop teasing me," Fayt whispered.
"Tell me, Fayt. What do you want? It's not a difficult question; all you have to do is speak up."
"I want…" Fayt stared at the mouth inches from his own, growing embarrassingly aroused by the swordsman's close proximity. To hell with it… He leaned into Albel and pressed their lips together. Albel made a strange, hungry sound and kissed him back. His tongue tasted of plum wine and his lips were soft yet firm.
Fayt couldn't feel his legs and clung to Albel. He found himself grinding his hips into Albel's, helplessly, stupidly horny and half-apologetic for being a teenaged bundle of hormones that had been denied for far too long.
Albel was laughing as he pulled away, eyes glittering wickedly as he steadied Fayt by placing his hands on his shoulders. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" he teased.
The far-too-late realization that he had been manipulated from the very beginning pissed him off. His anger cleared his head a tiny bit and Fayt glared at Albel. "What the hell is your problem? Why did you do that? If you wanted to kiss me so damned badly why didn't you make the first move?"
Albel shrugged. "Because I needed to know that you wanted me."
"All you had to do was ask," Fayt scowled.
He chuckled. "But this was so much more fun…"
"Sadist," Fayt accused.
When Albel laughed in his face, Fayt felt something akin to his reaction to Albel mocking him during their sparring matches and arguments. He couldn't let Albel have the last word and he certainly couldn't let him think that he'd come out on top. Fayt all but pounced on the man and kissed him passionately. He was working on pure instinct, and all that he knew for sure was that he couldn't get over how good it felt to be so close to Albel.
Of course Albel fought back, Fayt wouldn't have wanted it any other way, and they stood like that for some time, dueling with lips and tongues rather than swords and words. Feeling a little bit devious, Fayt used the kiss to distract Albel from the fact that he was slowly backing him towards one of the beds in the room.
Albel chuckled, not in the least bit caught off guard. "Are you trying to seduce me, Fayt?"
"I dunno," Fayt muttered under his breath as he pushed Albel onto the bed. The only thing that he knew for certain was that he liked kissing and touching Albel and had no desire to stop due to any virginal insecurity.
He straddled the swordsman's narrow waist, liking how wanton Albel looked underneath him. His eyes were dark with hunger and Fayt was breathless, suddenly overwhelmed by Albel and the drunkenness that was still fogging his mind. "Do you really mean it? This isn't just an excuse just to get into my pants, is it? I mean…do you really want us to…travel together? "
Albel snorted, passing his right hand down the length of Fayt's spine in an almost soothing manner. "Don't be ridiculous. Had I only wanted to bed you, I wouldn't have had to go to such lengths."
"Confident, aren't you?" Fayt chuckled despite himself.
"No," Albel replied frankly. "You are just easy to read."
"Ugh," Fayt groaned in exasperation as he rolled his eyes. "You're impossible."
Albel laughed and it was darkly seductive, laced with a razor's edge of madness. "Has no one ever told you that talk is cheap?"
Fayt tried to glare as Albel kissed him, but his eyes fluttered shut as the sensation overtook good sense and coherency.
There were many things left unsaid. Stupid little phrases like 'Do you love me?' kept popping into Fayt's head. He wasn't afraid to ask, just thought it was a silly thing. Fayt knew that Albel cared for him more than he would ever admit. Knowing him as well as he did, Fayt was well aware that the fact that Albel cared about him at all was a monumental achievement.
Pressuring him for declarations of affection was pointless and would just piss him off or, worse still, cause him to leave. Fayt didn't want him to go away, he wanted to explore these heady new emotions and the future ahead of them.
He sucked on Albel's tongue, noting that it still tasted of plum wine, and chuckled breathily. I must be going crazy.
Albel's fingers brushed across Fayt's bare chest, making him shiver slightly. Suddenly his sanity didn't matter all that much to him, he just wanted Albel to keep touching him.
"More," Fayt panted against Albel's mouth, "please don't stop."
Albel gave him a devious look, as if trying to wordlessly convey that Fayt might just regret that request in the morning. As for Fayt, he truly doubted that was possible. He was sick of playing it safe and doing what everyone thought was best for him.
The choice to be with Albel was something that he wanted for himself, anyone else's opinion be damned.
Finis.