Final Fantasy XII (Balthier)
Balthier slumped down in the pilot’s seat of the Strahl with a sigh of relief, enjoying a moment of silence for the first time in three days. The others were gone, finally, shacked up at one of the cheaper inns Bhujerba had to offer as they planned their morning foray into the mines.
There was a bed waiting there for him too, but a neat, witty line about putting the Strahl to sleep had given Balthier a bit of breathing space before he had to rejoin their company again so soon. Fran had quirked one ear at him dismissively when he’d left, promising without words to keep the others from bothering him while he sought his own peace. Vaan had looked as though he’d like to come along, his awed reverence for the Strahl almost funny for how naive it made him seem, but Balthier had managed to stave him off with a smile and a promise of another time. The esteemed Captain Basch had just given him a grave nod of farewell, no doubt looking forward to the luxury of a real bed for once. Their new friend Not-Lamont hadn’t seemed to care either way.
Alone with his thoughts and his ship, Balthier stretched out leisurely, cocking one leg over the chair arm. He slouched back comfortably, indulging in the solitude as much as the glass of sherry dangling lazily from his left hand.
A smear of light streaked across the Strahl’s wind-screen and Balthier tipped his head in acknowledgement, one solitary sky traveler to another. The shooting star shone painfully bright as it fell, lighting up the midnight sky as it raced recklessly towards its own destruction.
Not unlike Basch, actually, now that he thought about it. Balthier’s mouth quirked up into something that wasn’t quite a smile as he thought on the ex-Captain’s dignified, noble countenance - that last bright flare of strength in a career so far past its prime it was almost pathetic to consider.
Balthier let his free hand drift to the front of his trousers as he conjured up an image of Basch in his mind - lingered over that impressive physique and those strong, piercing eyes that could send lesser men to their knees in a heartbeat. Smirking wolfishly, Balthier pressed firmly against the rising stiffness in his leathers, trying to imagine what the man had been like before two years of captivity had robbed him of his pride, his real strength and the right to his own identity. He wondered what Basch would do if he gave in to the temptation to trace that jagged scar with his tongue, wondered how far he could push before the Captain shed his clearly oft-practiced restraint and paid him back for it.
And oh, wouldn’t that be an experience to savour. Balthier hummed contentedly, lifting his hips slightly as he imagined that serious mouth raking over his own, claiming him with a taste as sharp as a winter storm. Basch probably had a fabulous cock too, as big and hard as the rest of him, and Balthier licked his lips at the thought of going down on a man like that, of tonguing velvety hardness while Basch thrashed and swore and writhed above him. He would enjoy that, would relish driving the man mad with pleasure until Basch dragged him up by the hair and fucked him, hard, long and ruthless. It had been a while since he’d been taken like that, a while since he’d had the pleasure of another man’s steely cock surging into him with savage, barely contained dominance. There was a wildness lurking in Basch’s eyes that made it clear that he could deliver on the promise of all that strength and Balthier certainly wouldn’t mind seeing Basch snap if it meant that their esteemed Captain would fuck him through the floor a time or two.
Completely unlike his plans for their other interloper. Balthier smiled, holding his glass firmly as his other hand neatly managed the ties on his trousers. If Basch was a falling star then Vaan was the sun - bright, bold and unintentionally striking. Balthier had never approved of Rabanastran traditional garb as much as when he’d caught his first glimpse of the young thief lord slipping easily through the royal treasury, the sight of that smooth, sleekly muscled skin made all the more erotic for the sparse modesty offered by Vaan’s practically non-existent vest. Add that to the boy’s face, prettier by far than that of his stolen friend, the confident sway of smooth hips under close-cut pants, the soft, silky-looking hair that would look so much better tousled by greedy hands, and the tempting fire that flashed like a challenge in those blue eyes, and it was hardly a surprise that Balthier’s cock was hard in his hand at the thought of the whole lovely, clueless package. His breath came out slightly ragged as he pictured Vaan spread out wanton and needy across his bed, eyes gone glassy and blank as Balthier thrust into him hard, pounding Vaan into the sheets until there was nothing but heat and want and the clench of the boy’s tight ass around his swollen cock.
A chill touch against his finger alerted Balthier just in time to right the forgotten glass in his hand, and he set it carefully on the chair arm as he shifted to give himself better access. A wry smile twisted his lips as he thought of how he’d like to see Vaan’s lovely face wet and dripping with his come, and how he likely could have if he’d given in to the urge to give Vaan a tour of more than just the Strahl on the way out of Rabanastre.
His hand moved steadily over his turgid cock, a lingering, teasing touch designed to fan the heat within him without pushing him over. He wasn’t in a rush after all, and Fran would cover for him if their ragtag hangers-on began to wonder at his absence.
Ah, Fran. Whoever else came and went in his life, his partner had always and would ever be the moon - beautiful, mysterious and desirable. Striking and deadly in her grace, Balthier’s Viera played a perfect counterpoint to his own lethal charm, completing him in a way he hadn’t realized a sky pirate needed to be completed. His thumb was rough with calluses as he dragged it over the head of his dripping length and he wondered how that would feel from a different hand - slimmer, longer but just as battle-hardened, with sharp nails that added just the right amount of pain to the pleasure while his own hands ran seductively along gently furred ears that twitched and quivered appealingly at his touch.
Fran would be just as efficient in pleasure as she was in everything else, would know just how to drive him out of his mind. Even at his most outrageous, Balthier couldn’t imagine Fran taking him in her mouth - more’s the pity - but he bit his lip at the phantom pleasure of her riding him, firm, smoothly muscled legs caging his thighs while her long hair flickered caresses across his chest and her claws dug deep furrows in his back that stung with sweat and blood and passion.
The pressure was building in him now, a rising, inexorable tide that dragged him forward until his blood was humming in his veins and his chest tightened so that he could hardly breathe for gasping. His hips were lifting off the chair steadily now, pressing into the tight warm tunnel of his hand and bringing him ever closer to completion.
Then Balthier pulled his hand away, biting his lip to muffle a groan at the sudden loss of stimulus, his whole body singing with frustrated need right on the very edge.
Taking several deep breaths, Balthier reclaimed his glass and took a few swallows to wet his dry throat. He managed a rueful chuckle as he ran a shaking hand through his sweat-damped hair, the cool air in the cockpit teasing his swollen member as it stood flushed and erect above his lap. He had to be getting back soon - he didn’t doubt they were in for an unpleasant day tomorrow and they’d all want to be well rested in the meantime.
And besides, it just wouldn’t do to get come on the Strahl’s control board.
Finishing his sherry with a quick tilt of the glass, Balthier eased his cock back into the confines of his leathers, hissing at the delicious friction. The seam of his pants pressed insistently against the straining flesh as he stood and he swayed slightly, fighting for control. Calmly straightening his vest he strode slowly towards the door, ignoring the bright flashes going off behind his eyes as he bent to retrieve his gun.
“The plight of the leading man,” Balthier observed to himself, taking one last look at the array of stars winking at him from the far beyond. He smiled good-humouredly as he shut off the lights and turned to go back to the world of the earthbound. “Good thing it’s a long walk back.”
~owari
There was a bed waiting there for him too, but a neat, witty line about putting the Strahl to sleep had given Balthier a bit of breathing space before he had to rejoin their company again so soon. Fran had quirked one ear at him dismissively when he’d left, promising without words to keep the others from bothering him while he sought his own peace. Vaan had looked as though he’d like to come along, his awed reverence for the Strahl almost funny for how naive it made him seem, but Balthier had managed to stave him off with a smile and a promise of another time. The esteemed Captain Basch had just given him a grave nod of farewell, no doubt looking forward to the luxury of a real bed for once. Their new friend Not-Lamont hadn’t seemed to care either way.
Alone with his thoughts and his ship, Balthier stretched out leisurely, cocking one leg over the chair arm. He slouched back comfortably, indulging in the solitude as much as the glass of sherry dangling lazily from his left hand.
A smear of light streaked across the Strahl’s wind-screen and Balthier tipped his head in acknowledgement, one solitary sky traveler to another. The shooting star shone painfully bright as it fell, lighting up the midnight sky as it raced recklessly towards its own destruction.
Not unlike Basch, actually, now that he thought about it. Balthier’s mouth quirked up into something that wasn’t quite a smile as he thought on the ex-Captain’s dignified, noble countenance - that last bright flare of strength in a career so far past its prime it was almost pathetic to consider.
Balthier let his free hand drift to the front of his trousers as he conjured up an image of Basch in his mind - lingered over that impressive physique and those strong, piercing eyes that could send lesser men to their knees in a heartbeat. Smirking wolfishly, Balthier pressed firmly against the rising stiffness in his leathers, trying to imagine what the man had been like before two years of captivity had robbed him of his pride, his real strength and the right to his own identity. He wondered what Basch would do if he gave in to the temptation to trace that jagged scar with his tongue, wondered how far he could push before the Captain shed his clearly oft-practiced restraint and paid him back for it.
And oh, wouldn’t that be an experience to savour. Balthier hummed contentedly, lifting his hips slightly as he imagined that serious mouth raking over his own, claiming him with a taste as sharp as a winter storm. Basch probably had a fabulous cock too, as big and hard as the rest of him, and Balthier licked his lips at the thought of going down on a man like that, of tonguing velvety hardness while Basch thrashed and swore and writhed above him. He would enjoy that, would relish driving the man mad with pleasure until Basch dragged him up by the hair and fucked him, hard, long and ruthless. It had been a while since he’d been taken like that, a while since he’d had the pleasure of another man’s steely cock surging into him with savage, barely contained dominance. There was a wildness lurking in Basch’s eyes that made it clear that he could deliver on the promise of all that strength and Balthier certainly wouldn’t mind seeing Basch snap if it meant that their esteemed Captain would fuck him through the floor a time or two.
Completely unlike his plans for their other interloper. Balthier smiled, holding his glass firmly as his other hand neatly managed the ties on his trousers. If Basch was a falling star then Vaan was the sun - bright, bold and unintentionally striking. Balthier had never approved of Rabanastran traditional garb as much as when he’d caught his first glimpse of the young thief lord slipping easily through the royal treasury, the sight of that smooth, sleekly muscled skin made all the more erotic for the sparse modesty offered by Vaan’s practically non-existent vest. Add that to the boy’s face, prettier by far than that of his stolen friend, the confident sway of smooth hips under close-cut pants, the soft, silky-looking hair that would look so much better tousled by greedy hands, and the tempting fire that flashed like a challenge in those blue eyes, and it was hardly a surprise that Balthier’s cock was hard in his hand at the thought of the whole lovely, clueless package. His breath came out slightly ragged as he pictured Vaan spread out wanton and needy across his bed, eyes gone glassy and blank as Balthier thrust into him hard, pounding Vaan into the sheets until there was nothing but heat and want and the clench of the boy’s tight ass around his swollen cock.
A chill touch against his finger alerted Balthier just in time to right the forgotten glass in his hand, and he set it carefully on the chair arm as he shifted to give himself better access. A wry smile twisted his lips as he thought of how he’d like to see Vaan’s lovely face wet and dripping with his come, and how he likely could have if he’d given in to the urge to give Vaan a tour of more than just the Strahl on the way out of Rabanastre.
His hand moved steadily over his turgid cock, a lingering, teasing touch designed to fan the heat within him without pushing him over. He wasn’t in a rush after all, and Fran would cover for him if their ragtag hangers-on began to wonder at his absence.
Ah, Fran. Whoever else came and went in his life, his partner had always and would ever be the moon - beautiful, mysterious and desirable. Striking and deadly in her grace, Balthier’s Viera played a perfect counterpoint to his own lethal charm, completing him in a way he hadn’t realized a sky pirate needed to be completed. His thumb was rough with calluses as he dragged it over the head of his dripping length and he wondered how that would feel from a different hand - slimmer, longer but just as battle-hardened, with sharp nails that added just the right amount of pain to the pleasure while his own hands ran seductively along gently furred ears that twitched and quivered appealingly at his touch.
Fran would be just as efficient in pleasure as she was in everything else, would know just how to drive him out of his mind. Even at his most outrageous, Balthier couldn’t imagine Fran taking him in her mouth - more’s the pity - but he bit his lip at the phantom pleasure of her riding him, firm, smoothly muscled legs caging his thighs while her long hair flickered caresses across his chest and her claws dug deep furrows in his back that stung with sweat and blood and passion.
The pressure was building in him now, a rising, inexorable tide that dragged him forward until his blood was humming in his veins and his chest tightened so that he could hardly breathe for gasping. His hips were lifting off the chair steadily now, pressing into the tight warm tunnel of his hand and bringing him ever closer to completion.
Then Balthier pulled his hand away, biting his lip to muffle a groan at the sudden loss of stimulus, his whole body singing with frustrated need right on the very edge.
Taking several deep breaths, Balthier reclaimed his glass and took a few swallows to wet his dry throat. He managed a rueful chuckle as he ran a shaking hand through his sweat-damped hair, the cool air in the cockpit teasing his swollen member as it stood flushed and erect above his lap. He had to be getting back soon - he didn’t doubt they were in for an unpleasant day tomorrow and they’d all want to be well rested in the meantime.
And besides, it just wouldn’t do to get come on the Strahl’s control board.
Finishing his sherry with a quick tilt of the glass, Balthier eased his cock back into the confines of his leathers, hissing at the delicious friction. The seam of his pants pressed insistently against the straining flesh as he stood and he swayed slightly, fighting for control. Calmly straightening his vest he strode slowly towards the door, ignoring the bright flashes going off behind his eyes as he bent to retrieve his gun.
“The plight of the leading man,” Balthier observed to himself, taking one last look at the array of stars winking at him from the far beyond. He smiled good-humouredly as he shut off the lights and turned to go back to the world of the earthbound. “Good thing it’s a long walk back.”
~owari