[Star Ocean 2] As Simple As That
Title: As Simple as That
Fandom: Star Ocean 2
Pairing: Dias/Claude
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Porn. 819 words of porn. Don't say you haven't been warned.
Disclaimer: TriAce wouldn't make porn of them. So I can't be TriAce.
Notes: For maiji. I'M SO SORRY! *ducks for cover*
As Simple as That
Once they are sprawled awkwardly on one of the inn's narrow beds, there is no longer any hesitation between them.
Claude wills himself not to twitch as long hair is sliding across his stomach, brushing the inside of his thighs, and he has to bite his lip to hold in a laugh; it is tickling like crazy, but Dias will take it the wrong way. His breath catches when Dias reaches his destination, lips and tongue teasing gently over too sensitive flesh, and he squirms, toes digging into the mattress, muscles drawn tight as if his own body is not certain whether to move towards the touch or away from it.
Dias takes the decision away from him, one hand pressing down on his hip to keep him in place, the other wrapping around him as Dias draws the tip into his mouth. Claude moans, throwing his head back and banging it on the wall, the pain dulled by the overwhelming pleasure. He has to fight not to close his eyes against the act; those are the rules of propriety society dictates-endure and pretend it isn't happening to you-but that society is light years away and has no hold on him anymore, so he props himself up on one elbow the best he can. This is much more interesting than the inside of his eyelids.
Beneath the mess of bangs, Dias' face is intent, his eyes are closed, eyelashes surprisingly delicate against his cheeks - how strange, nothing else about him is delicate. The sudden urge to touch is overwhelming, Claude reaches out, hand slipping into the hair at his temple, strands sticking to his sweaty fingers. In response, Dias' tongue rasps over him again, quick rough swipes that wring surprised and breathless noises from his throat, loud in the stillness in the room. Right now, he really cannot muster enough shame to care who hears him.
"I like you," Claude said, his voice soft and matter-of-fact, because that was the way one talked to Dias about sensitive topics. The words seemed lacking, somehow, ineffectual, having to express so many feelings and nuances and half-thought out confessions. He supposed there were grander ways to phrase it, but he had always felt awkward adapting his words to fit some notion of meaningfulness, and this was no exception.
"Ah," Dias said, as if he had just announced that it was, in fact, nine o'clock sharp, and proceeded to stare into the fire. It took him a moment to realize that Dias was probably trying to compose a suitable answer, and to expect that of him seemed just a tiny bit cruel, so he decided to take a risk, leaned over, and kissed him.
He missed his mouth by half an inch, but then Dias blinked, and turned his head a little, and it was as perfect as it would get.
Dias stops for a moment, looking up at him, and he gives an impatient tug on the hair within his grasp. Something wicked flashes in those eyes for a moment, and Dias lets himself be pulled, taking him in his mouth again and sucking in earnest-and that is enough to send coherence flying out the window, no room for any thoughts but heat and wet and want, and the sword-calluses of the hands clamping down on his shaking thighs, and he is bucking his hips and Dias' mouth is moving and then he comes undone, finally, sinking back against the wall in a graceless heap.
When he opens his eyes again, Dias has risen to his knees, an unreadable expression on his face. Claude does not know what to make of it, but he does not want to think right now, not when he is experiencing that strange, comfortable newness, and he does not want Dias to start thinking again either, so he leans up and kisses him. It only takes a moment before he responds, hot and slow, and there is a simple, unexpected pleasure to be found just in the way their mouths fit together.
Nervousness is stirring at the edge of his thoughts, but he shoves it away, too. There is enough time for questions and uncertainty tomorrow; is it really so bad that he just wants to spend a short while without worrying about things he can't explain, or control? And who knows, maybe he won't even be expected to answer, maybe Dias will be just as content with the small piece of certainty he can offer.
I like you.
Maybe it can be as simple as that.
He pushes himself upright and gently nudges Dias' shoulder. A look of surprise flits across Dias' face-what, what has he expected? They are partners, they do things in pairs, and this will be no exception-but he obeys and rolls onto his back. Claude follows, sheets bunching up between his knees. Smiling, he bends down.
FIN
-------
A/N: Whoa, Claude. I guess that happens when he is Really Into Something.
In other words, this was quite possibly the hardest thing I've done in a while. I have no idea about anything in this fic. Now if you will excuse me, I need to find some secret hole in order to escape the burning wrath of a horde of squirrels with rusty icepicks. >___>
<< Return to Star Ocean 2 Index | Return to Fanfiction Index >>
Fandom: Star Ocean 2
Pairing: Dias/Claude
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Porn. 819 words of porn. Don't say you haven't been warned.
Disclaimer: TriAce wouldn't make porn of them. So I can't be TriAce.
Notes: For maiji. I'M SO SORRY! *ducks for cover*
As Simple as That
Once they are sprawled awkwardly on one of the inn's narrow beds, there is no longer any hesitation between them.
Claude wills himself not to twitch as long hair is sliding across his stomach, brushing the inside of his thighs, and he has to bite his lip to hold in a laugh; it is tickling like crazy, but Dias will take it the wrong way. His breath catches when Dias reaches his destination, lips and tongue teasing gently over too sensitive flesh, and he squirms, toes digging into the mattress, muscles drawn tight as if his own body is not certain whether to move towards the touch or away from it.
Dias takes the decision away from him, one hand pressing down on his hip to keep him in place, the other wrapping around him as Dias draws the tip into his mouth. Claude moans, throwing his head back and banging it on the wall, the pain dulled by the overwhelming pleasure. He has to fight not to close his eyes against the act; those are the rules of propriety society dictates-endure and pretend it isn't happening to you-but that society is light years away and has no hold on him anymore, so he props himself up on one elbow the best he can. This is much more interesting than the inside of his eyelids.
Beneath the mess of bangs, Dias' face is intent, his eyes are closed, eyelashes surprisingly delicate against his cheeks - how strange, nothing else about him is delicate. The sudden urge to touch is overwhelming, Claude reaches out, hand slipping into the hair at his temple, strands sticking to his sweaty fingers. In response, Dias' tongue rasps over him again, quick rough swipes that wring surprised and breathless noises from his throat, loud in the stillness in the room. Right now, he really cannot muster enough shame to care who hears him.
"I like you," Claude said, his voice soft and matter-of-fact, because that was the way one talked to Dias about sensitive topics. The words seemed lacking, somehow, ineffectual, having to express so many feelings and nuances and half-thought out confessions. He supposed there were grander ways to phrase it, but he had always felt awkward adapting his words to fit some notion of meaningfulness, and this was no exception.
"Ah," Dias said, as if he had just announced that it was, in fact, nine o'clock sharp, and proceeded to stare into the fire. It took him a moment to realize that Dias was probably trying to compose a suitable answer, and to expect that of him seemed just a tiny bit cruel, so he decided to take a risk, leaned over, and kissed him.
He missed his mouth by half an inch, but then Dias blinked, and turned his head a little, and it was as perfect as it would get.
Dias stops for a moment, looking up at him, and he gives an impatient tug on the hair within his grasp. Something wicked flashes in those eyes for a moment, and Dias lets himself be pulled, taking him in his mouth again and sucking in earnest-and that is enough to send coherence flying out the window, no room for any thoughts but heat and wet and want, and the sword-calluses of the hands clamping down on his shaking thighs, and he is bucking his hips and Dias' mouth is moving and then he comes undone, finally, sinking back against the wall in a graceless heap.
When he opens his eyes again, Dias has risen to his knees, an unreadable expression on his face. Claude does not know what to make of it, but he does not want to think right now, not when he is experiencing that strange, comfortable newness, and he does not want Dias to start thinking again either, so he leans up and kisses him. It only takes a moment before he responds, hot and slow, and there is a simple, unexpected pleasure to be found just in the way their mouths fit together.
Nervousness is stirring at the edge of his thoughts, but he shoves it away, too. There is enough time for questions and uncertainty tomorrow; is it really so bad that he just wants to spend a short while without worrying about things he can't explain, or control? And who knows, maybe he won't even be expected to answer, maybe Dias will be just as content with the small piece of certainty he can offer.
I like you.
Maybe it can be as simple as that.
He pushes himself upright and gently nudges Dias' shoulder. A look of surprise flits across Dias' face-what, what has he expected? They are partners, they do things in pairs, and this will be no exception-but he obeys and rolls onto his back. Claude follows, sheets bunching up between his knees. Smiling, he bends down.
FIN
-------
A/N: Whoa, Claude. I guess that happens when he is Really Into Something.
In other words, this was quite possibly the hardest thing I've done in a while. I have no idea about anything in this fic. Now if you will excuse me, I need to find some secret hole in order to escape the burning wrath of a horde of squirrels with rusty icepicks. >___>
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