THE PRICE OF HONOR
Disclaimers: Final Fantasy XII and all other related characters, events, etc. do not belong to me.
Overall Story Notes: (minor spoilers) The story is about Gabranth and Larsa so in my story, Gabranth DID NOT die in the end of the game. :)
Chapter Notes: Chapter 12 begins where Chapter 11 left off. Oh, and this chapter is rated M for a reason! ;) Skip this if you're sensitive to that—you have been warned.
Author's Notes: Not proof-read so will probably contain a lot of grammatical eyesores. Sorry.
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"I see that Gabranth has—retrieved—you." Vayne Solidor mused without looking up from the paperwork on his desk, though his deliberate choice of words did nothing to conceal his malice.
Larsa did his best not to cringe at his brother's words and merely clenched his small hands into fists behind his back. "Indeed he has." The younger Solidor bit out as he stood there awkwardly in his brother's study, the latter not even bothering to look at him since he had returned.
"If there is nothing more to be said here, then I shall retire to my chambers. I take my leave of you—brother." Larsa all but hissed the last word as he turned on his heel, intent on leaving before the tension in the room suffocated him. It pained the young lord to be at odds with his older brother and only surviving family, but he could not bear being around Vayne when he was in one of his darker moods.
Vayne raised cold blue eyes to watch his younger brother's back disappear behind the heavy oaken doors of his study, a deep frown etched into his handsome features—but said nothing even as the doors closed shut with a dull thud.
Gabranth, who had been waiting outside the room, took in the boy's perplexed expression and decided that any questions would be better asked later. He nodded wordlessly before leading Larsa to his chambers, the only sound between them was the grating of the Judge Magister's armour as they walked through the unusually empty hallways.
Larsa stopped a few paces short of the doors to his chamber before he turned to Gabranth, lower lip caught between his teeth as he did his best to avoid looking the Magister in the eye. "Gabranth—would you... I mean, if you want—you could... could you perhaps—uhmmm.."
The blonde felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips as he watched the Solidor heir's cheeks turn from pale pink to a now deeper shade of red, teeth nibbling the delicate lower lip at a pace that threatened to break the skin. "Forgive me Lord Larsa, but I have imperial duties which I must attend to at once."
"Oh..." Larsa quietly replied as he turned his back on his Judge Protector, shoulders unconsciously sagging at his disappointment. "I see. In that case, you may take your leave Gabranth. Thank you, for bringing me home."
Powerful arms wrapped around Larsa's small frame and the boy nearly yelped in surprise at the unexpected embrace. Cobalt eyes quickly realized that they were alone and he let himself be pulled tighter against a taut chest, a small sigh escaping his lips. "But perhaps after my duties... if the invitation is still open then?" Gabranth whispered dangerously close to the shell of the young lord's ear, making the latter shiver and blush anew.
"The invitation is always open..." Larsa whispered back shyly as they slowly pulled away from each other for fear that someone might walk in on them—the events a few days prior still painfully fresh in each other's minds. Armoured hands held gloved ones a little longer, squeezing them gently before finally letting go.
"I take my leave Lord Larsa." Gabranth bowed low, not one to forget formalities. Larsa nodded in acknowledgment before he was pulled brusquely towards the older man, warm lips quickly finding his in a hurried kiss. The Solidor heir's legs turned boneless beneath him but he was able to pull himself together before Gabranth finally took his leave, quickly disappearing down the corridor.
A small smile played on Larsa's lips as unsteady legs barely managed to take him to his bed chambers where he all but threw himself on the mattress. The exhaustion brought by the day's events finally catching up to him, Larsa drifted off to the first peaceful sleep he had had in days.
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"G—gabra—aah..." Larsa cried out softly, trying his best to muffle the moans which followed as calloused hands disappeared under his tunic. His face burned in a mixture of embarrassment and something else—some unbridled need which threatened to spill over as experienced lips latched on to a sensitive ear.
The young lord moaned again as fingers descended to the front of his trousers, closing tightly around the obvious evidence of his desire. "Oh gods... G-gabranth... w—what are you-" The Judge Magister tightened his grip and Larsa's words melted into incoherent whispers as the boy bucked helplessly beneath Gabranth's touch. The older man's tongue darted slyly into a sensitive shell, down a pale neck, and settled into lapping the spot where neck and shoulder met—before biting down with a soft grunt.
"Nggggnn... Gabranth please—I can't..." Cobalt eyes flew wide open as a deep hot sensation coursed down from where the Judge had bitten him until it settled into a simmering pool at the pit of his stomach. He fought hard to stay his hips, but they were helplessly thrusting into the Magister's hand as if on their own volition and he could not help but moan again.
"You can't what my lord?" Gabranth's voice was husky against Larsa's ear as the Judge pulled him tighter against his much larger body with one hand while the other continued with its ministrations. Larsa shook his head, unable to think clearly as small hands tried to stay the much larger one holding his manhood. "Y—you have to s-stop—please, I...c-c—oh gods!" Larsa's plea was cut short when Gabranth slipped a hand inside the boy's trousers.
The boy's head rolled back unto Gabranth's shoulder, teeth biting so hard into his lower lip yet still unable to muffle completely the small moans which spilled forth from his mouth. "Stop? Why so?" The Magister taunted as he ran his fingers slowly up and down the now weeping flesh, making its owner cry out and press up harder against him.
Tears stung the corners of Larsa's eyes as he felt both shame and desire battle for supremacy in his mind. If Gabranth did not stop what he was doing, surely he would—he would end up doing what he had only done alone, in the privacy of his own chambers... and yet he wanted this—wanted Gabranth to finish what he started. He was so close—too close...
Small fingers clutched at the sheets so tightly, knuckles blanching. Large cobalt eyes silently pleaded with half-lidded blue ones before a final stroke caused everything to go white—
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Larsa shot up to a sitting position on his bed, his breathing ragged, as he unconsciously clutched at the duvet too tightly. "What in... Ivalice..." The young Solidor look around his chambers, seeing that it was almost evening, before he looked back down on his deep plum duvet—suddenly afraid to pull it off. He raised an unsteady hand to wipe the sweat on his forehead. He felt hot all over—burning even, and his heart was pounding so hard against his chest it almost hurt.
"A dream..." Larsa whispered to himself as he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. The dream had been so vivid it was almost real—and that scared the Solidor heir, for he had never felt any need so—raw, for lack of a better word. He tentatively slipped a hand beneath the duvet, between the coverlet and his sheets, before his blue eyes went wide and his cheeks burned in shame even though he was alone at what he felt there.
Larsa closed his eyes and tried to win over it through self control—but failed miserably as images of a certain Judge Magister in the heat of passion flooded his senses and did nothing but worsen his current predicament. The Solidor heir groaned into his pillow, wishing that his problem would just go away—supper was going to be served soon and he could not afford to leave his chambers in the state he was in.
As if the fates had heard him—and had decided to toy with the young lord some more—a soft knock echoed through his chambers before a chamber maid entered and with a slight curtsey, announced that supper was served and that his Lord Brother was awaiting his presence in the dining hall.
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Larsa shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the cushion making squeaky noises which raised more than a few eyebrows from Vayne, the armoured judges, minor imperials, and even the servants. An armoured hand tapped the young lord's shoulder making him yelp as he nearly jumped out of his seat, finally earning a reaction from the older Solidor who was sitting across Larsa.
"What in Ivalice are you on about Larsa? Is there something the matter that it seems that you cannot sit still for supper?" Vayne sounded exasperated as he put down his knife and fork, eyeing his younger brother squarely.
Larsa shook his head, a slight flush rising in his cheeks. "F-forgive me. I am just a bit—ill at ease... from a... nightmare I had this afternoon. I will feel better soon."
Vayne raised a finely chiselled eyebrow at this. "A nightmare? Would you like to tell me about it?"
Larsa swallowed at the rapidly forming lump in his throat as images from his dream began to resurface in his mind and resurrect the problem that had been only mildly abated before he went for supper. "Oh... no, no brother. It was silly really... it is not worth worrying over. It is best we forget about it." The young lord said unconvincingly as he pretended to be overly-interested on the food on his plate.
Gabranth, who was standing behind Vayne's seat, noted Larsa's odd behaviour and knew that the boy was not being entirely truthful, but remained motionless—deciding that later would be a better time to ask. It seemed that there were quite a few questions to be answered that evening.
Supper was over much too quickly than usual as Larsa barely ate his meal and was in an odd rush to return to his chambers that he literally ran out of the dining hall, barely brushing past Gabranth who had managed to open the door for him. Vayne stood up wordlessly from the table and promptly left the hall, the Judge Magister following close behind him.
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Larsa laid on his back, body buried in his sheets, feeling like he was on fire. His cheeks burned but not so much as a specific part of his anatomy which now refused to be ignored. One look at the Judge Magister in the dining hall and he was nearly at wits end that he just had to literally run out of the room to save himself from further shame. The young Solidor rolled over unto his belly and buried his face in his pillow—he was truly suffering, and he could not bring himself to do the one thing that could definitely ease it.
Minutes passed like hours as Larsa laid there like an idiot, face down on his pillow as he lost the battle of wills against his desire miserably—his erection throbbing madly between his legs. Each time he shifted, his trousers brushed against his sensitized skin making him moan involuntarily and heightening his almost unbearable arousal.
Again, Larsa shifted uncomfortably on the bed, groaning at the friction that it created as he rolled back over unto his back. He tried to think of politics or such other academic topics in the hopes that it would calm his nerves, however, he had only gotten past "The Ministry" before thoughts of a certain Magistrate pushed him into such desire and frustration that the young lord felt like he would cry.
He had thought about doing it himself, but it was much too embarrassing. He had not touched himself in the longest time, thinking it was juvenile and was not to be done by mature young men such as himself. He had been successful in abating such desires by focusing his mind on more relevant matters, however, it did not seem to be working at the present.
Slim fingers danced over the duvet, refusing to go underneath though they were itching to—relieve—certain problems, and in a futile attempt to calm himself, Larsa grabbed handfuls of the plum duvet with such force that his knuckles blanched much like it did when he woke up from the nap which started the whole predicament.
More minutes passed and Larsa felt himself getting more and more desperate, in the back of his mind he knew he could not hold out much longer. Never had he needed to touch himself so badly in all his short years. He stared blankly at the canopy of his bed and gritted his teeth as his fingers found their way beneath the duvet, but not beneath the sheets which separated them from his body—breath hitching at the slight contact.
By the gods...Gabranth.
Larsa muffled a moan with the back of one hand as he let his right hand drift downwards, carelessly unlacing the front of his trousers before he could stop himself. He did it deliberately slowly—or at least as slowly as one who was beyond aroused and was ready to throw all impropriety out the window if only to end it quickly could do so.
I certainly am not going to do anything... I am just releasing the pressure so that it might dissipate in time...
Larsa thought to himself as his fingers tangled up the laces of his trousers in his haste to undo them. It did do some good, some of the pressure having been released—but it wasn't enough. Larsa's toes curled in embarrassment as he slowly inched the trousers down his legs. No one was in his chambers and he was under two layers of the duvet and the sheets—surely this wasn't supposed to feel as shameful as it did, he wasn't going to actually do anything. Was I?
He refused to look beneath the covers, praying that being half-naked under the sheets would make his erection go away. For a minute or two, Larsa just laid there staring blankly at the deep red canopy above his bed. Larsa did not realize that he was doing it, but his hand had travelled from where it rested after pushing off his trousers to the base of his aching flesh where it wrapped itself tightly, as if by instinct.
Cobalt blue eyes refocused as he bit his lower lip to stifle a soft moan. I cannot do this now—it is too shameful... and Gabranth... he might come in at any moment. I can't—I can't possibly have him see me like this.
Larsa tried to pull his hand away, but his failing resolve did not allow him to do so. Instead, the hand moved up his erection before it moved back down as if on its own. The young lord closed his eyes as he swallowed nervously, a moan escaping him as he repeated the motion.
"Larsa, you cannot do this." The boy whispered hoarsely to himself.
But his body seemed to have ideas of its own.
Perhaps I should simply get it over with, then I shall have no further problems with it tonight.
Larsa justified his hand's refusal to leave his erection, now fully award of his actions, no matter how shameful they were. He repeated the motion once more, eyes fluttering closed as his lips parted in a short gasp. The Solidor tried to do it as slowly as possible, still unsure if he truly wanted to "get it over with" in that manner—however, he was unable to keep the excruciatingly slow pace given how aroused he was and ended up speeding up his movements.
His desire threatened to overflow as he pumped almost shamelessly into his own hand, Larsa's need increasing with each stroke. Larsa had not touched himself in so long that it was no wonder that sofew strokes could bring him so close to release as he was now. The Solidor's mind was whirling in a blur of sensation and lust and unbridled desire. He did not behave like this in any situation, however, at that moment he had gone beyond propriety or even caring at all.
Larsa's breathing was ragged and he was moaning and panting as his hand moved quickly beneath the sheets. His body felt like it was on fire, as if lighting shot through him and went straight to his manhood, making him see stars behind closed lids. Without realizing it, the young lord kicked off the duvet and sheets as his hips became more erratic in their movement, back almost arching off the bed as the tension reached an almost unbearable level.
He was so close... just a few more strokes and he would be there...
Larsa could not hear his moans and whispered pleas and the name of a certain Magister which escaped between desperate gasps over the sound of his blood pounding in his ears as he neared his climax. Just a little bit more...
And suddenly a dull thud and the sound of grating metal reached Larsa's bed chambers and cobalt eyes flew wide open, mouth open in a wordless expression of shock. The young lord did the only thing he could do to save whatever dignity he had left—he rolled over unto his belly and wept disgracefully into his pillow.
Gabranth stood frozen on his spot by the entry of Larsa' bed chambers, scarcely processing more than what he had just seen. However, soft sobs brought him back to the present and he swallowed hard before his unsteady legs allowed him to walk over to the bed where the young Solidor had managed to bury himself in a mess of sheets and pillows as he wept.
"Lord Larsa..." Gabranth whispered, his voice husky and a little short of breath even to his own ears.
Larsa just shook his head as he wept and tried to bury himself further into his sheets as if willing himself to simply be eaten up by the massive mattress.
"Lord Larsa please, do not hide from me." The Judge Magister coaxed the ball underneath the duvet, which shifted slightly until an onyx-haired head appeared. The boy looked at Gabranth from beneath wet lashes, a little surprised to see that the Judge had already discarded his helmet.
"You—you've caught me in a... most shameful act and I—I... Gabranth—I cannot face you now!"
Larsa again buried his head in his sheets, wishing that the mattress would just consume him alive—he could not look Gabranth in the face after what had just happened. When the young lord refused to come out from under the covers after some coaxing, the Magister lifted Larsa up and out of the duvet, making the boy cry out in protest as he tried his best to cover up with a sheet his partial nudity.
For a moment they sat there, facing each other—the boy much more interested in the small diamonds embroidered on the plum fabric more than anything else. Gabranth, barely able to contain himself after such a display, quickly leaned over and captured Larsa's lips with his own. The boy gasped in surprise, allowing a skilled tongue to slip past his lips and delve into his mouth.
Larsa pulled away, embarrassment winning over desire, and he tried to turn away as tears stung his eyes. "I can't Gabranth... I am too embarrassed."
The Judge Magister pressed himself closer against the small boy, lips grazing his ear. "Embarrassed, my lord? Why so?" A strong arm wrapped itself around Larsa's waist, preventing him from moving or turning away from the older man. The contact of moist lips against his ear sent shivers up Larsa's spine and a shudder straight to his quickly reawakening arousal, but he sat up and looked at Gabranth indignantly. "You've seen me... while I was—while I was—touching myself! Gabranth, this shames me so!"
The blonde pulled the boy even tighter against him, making sure that Larsa did not miss the obvious effect of his little mishap on the Judge. By the way the boy blushed anew, Gabranth knew that Larsa had felt it pressing insistently against his thigh. Lowering his lips, Gabranth trailed light kisses over the boy's exposed neck, hands quickly ghosting under the rumpled tunic.
"I see no reason why you should be embarrassed my lord... I found its effect quite different altogether... on my part." The Judge Magister hissed under his breath as he felt Larsa roll his hips against him without really realizing what he was doing.
Larsa buried his face in the crook of Gabranth's neck and shoulder as the Magister pulled him unto his lap, the sheet barely covering his obvious arousal. Again their lips met in a heated rush, Gabranth tongue forcing its way into the boy's willing mouth, flicking against the palate and coaxing the young lord to reciprocate the motions.
Larsa shyly snaked his tongue into Gabranth's own mouth, moaning as the man sucked his lower lip as he did so. The blonde grasped small hips and pressed them down to his own confined erection in a desperate attempt to relieve the pooling tension underneath his breeches. The two broke off their heated kiss as they moaned in unison at the new sensation, though their hips rocked unsteadily against each other.
Unsteady hands pulled off Larsa's tunic, leaving him completely naked except for the thin white sheet which clung indecently to the young lord's waist. Larsa whimpered softly as his chest pressed against the cold magister plate but was quickly followed by a moan when Gabranth carelessly bit down on his shoulder, tongue lapping at the small mark he left there.
The blonde was losing it, he was practically what did the locals at Old Archades call it? Dry-humping the Solidor next in line to the throne of the Empire and he could not stop himself. He quickly discarded his gloves so he could feel the unmarred skin completely exposed to him—calloused hands running up the slightly arched back and down the heaving chest and flat stomach before again settling on narrow hips.
"My lord... Oh gods..." Gabranth's eyes rolled to the back of his head as Larsa rocked almost shamelessly against him, blue eyes half-lidded with passion as small hands gripped almost painfully at his shoulders. For a while Gabranth thought he could be content with this rocking motion, but soon found his hands insistently tugging at the confounded white sheet that obscured his view only to be stopped by small, shaky hands.
The blonde looked up into worried cobalt eyes. "Do you not want me to?" Gabranth barely whispered, trying to hide his disappointment and frustration. Larsa shook his head, but tried to avoid the Judge's eyes. "I do... I am just... I do not think I am ready... for you to see me... I mean, like this..." The young lord shifted on Gabranth's lap, rubbing against the latter's clothed erection and making the Judge groan despite himself. "Face to face I mean... I cannot do it yet. But... perhaps if... if uhm..."
The Judge Magister tried his best to stay himself as Larsa again shifted on his lap until he had his back pressed against the Judge's chest so that they were facing the same direction. "My lord..." the blonde began, a little confused as to their position, but soon understood when Larsa unsteadily led his right hand underneath the sheet around his waist.
Gabranth leant down and placed a kiss on top of the onyx head before resting his lips at the base of a pale neck, wrapping his left arm around Larsa's waist and pulling him tightly against his own body. With a deep breath, the blonde gently wrapped his large hand around the base of the Solidor heir's arousal.
"Oh gods...!" Larsa cried out softly in surprise, the simple action made him break into goose pimples as he involuntarily pushed his hip up at the touch. Behind him, Gabranth groaned into his neck as he shifted beneath the boy before he began running his fingers up and down Larsa's shaft. Gabranth tried to steady his pace, not wanting Larsa to finish too quickly, but he was just too aroused and the feeling of an equally aroused boy gasping and moaning and grinding against him did not help his cause.
Larsa's mind was reeling again, he clutched desperately at the sheets as his head rolled back to rest on Gabranth's shoulder. "Gabranth I... I... oh gods..." The boy gasped as the Magister quickened his pace beneath the sheet, he felt the familiar tension building up as the sound of his blood pumping began to fill his ears.
"P—please oh gods... Gabra—nth, please s-stop or I—I'm going to..." Larsa whimpered helplessly as his hips bucked almost wildly into Gabranth's expert hand. He was too close, if Gabranth didn't stop he would surely...
Gabranth tightened his hold on the hard flesh ground his hips harder against the boy above him, despite the boy's pleas for him to stop—though the lithe body said otherwise. Larsa could barely contain himself as his toes curled and his fingers clutched painfully at the sheets, he was going to come if Gabranth did not stop... again he pleaded, looking up at equally blue eyes. "G-gabranth please..."
In a wicked moment, the Judge slid a tongue into the shell of a small ear as his hand erratically pumped the hardened flesh in his palm. "Come for me Lord Larsa."
And with that Larsa arched against Gabranth's chest, head pushing hard against an armoured shoulder, the Judge's name leaving his lips in a most delicious moan, his arousal pulsing in Gabranth's hand as he came.
When the final tremors of his orgasm had passed, Larsa shyly tried to pull the now stained sheet around himself, refusing to turn his head to meet his Judge Protector's gaze. "I... I apologize G-gabranth... I just... I just needed it—I just wanted it so badly I could not... stop... myself..." Larsa trailed off feeling hot tears threatening to spill from his eyes as the realization of what just occurred dawned on him.
Gabranth however was quick to recover and pulled the young lord's chin up to give him a small kiss. "It seems that you are not the only one who made a mess... Lord Larsa."
Larsa blinked, confused at what Gabranth had meant before his attention was brought to an obvious dark patch on the Magister's breeches. "Oh. Did I... Did I do that?"
Gabranth gave a hearty laugh as he pulled the boy closer. "Yes, my lord—in a way, you did."
Larsa sported a healthy blush but managed a small smile. "I suppose this makes us even."
"Indeed." The Judge Magister chuckled as he moved the young lord unto the bed, running his hands over still slightly flushed cheeks.
For a moment they laid there in silence as their breathing returned to normal, fingers laced lazily with one another's. Larsa yawned sleepily and Gabranth could not help but smile.
"Best be off for a bath my lord, it will not do well to be found in... our current state."
Larsa smiled shyly. "I think I shall run a bath before I retire. Perhaps you could stay the night?"
The Judge Magister planted a soft kiss on the boy's forehead. "Not tonight my lord, but soon. It would be best once your Lord Brother's suspicions have died down—till then, we tread on thin ice."
The boy frowned but nodded in agreement. "Then I shall see you in the morning?"
"Yes, if your brother shall allow it."
"I shall make sure that he does."
They shared a long embrace before the Judge led the young Solidor to his bath then quickly making his way to his own chambers, careful to avoid anyone who might see him with an unexplainable dark spot on his breeches.
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I am so very sorry for the very long delay! Holidays and school just made it impossible to write... and well I suppose I was a little apprehensive since I've never written M material before. Yes I know, it's painfully obvious that I haven't, but I did try my best in this one. :x
Till the next chapter. :)
Seph