Lengths & Measures [FFXII, Balthier/Basch/Vossler, R] Title: Lengths and Measures Author: sarasa_cat Characters: Balthier, Basch, Vossler (implied Ffamran/Gabranth? Fran, Penelo, Ashe in Omake) Rating: R (sexual language, suggestive situations) Word count: 2540 Summary: Balthier is shameless but fishing for information while bathing outdoors with two of Dalmasca’s fallen Order. Omake with Fran, Penelo, and Ashe keeping watch. Prompt: July 8: Final Fantasy XII - Balthier/Basch/Vossler - comparing dick size - "nobody likes you when you're 23, and you still act like you're in freshman year" A/N:It was supposed to be pure comedy/commentary but a little bit of headcanon about Dalmascan politics and Vossler’s motives snuck in for a few lines.
Lengths & Measures
… It isn’t the length of the sword that matters …
“It’s only the first four inches that matter,” Basch said with a shrug. “Women prefer circumference. Only men care to compare length. Either men think it a contest of virility or they have false notions about deep penetration and women’s pleasure.”
“Speak for yourself,” Vossler replied. “Even if the length of your cock doubles that of mine when erect—"
"It actual might." Balthier spoke while bent at his knees. He measured his hands against the length of Basch’s penis while it dangled down between his legs. "Does it, Captain? That is, does yours when merely hanging downward measure twice the length of our other knight’s when he stands erect?"
Basch swatted the Pirate’s hands away. "It is more than you could handle," Basch grumbled.
Vossler continued his point whilst ignoring the Pirate’s antics "—length has done you little, Basch. Little at all in the fine art of ploughing and sowing."
Basch replied by rocking his hips to make his member dance and wobble and then he scooped it into his hand and squatting down into the water to clean himself.
"Show off," Vossler snorted. "I still cannot figure out why. Tell me, how often in the past ten years has any woman sought the flesh between your legs without her asking for payment in gil or the king’s written promise of political arrangement?"
"I don’t think the last two years should count," Basch retorted. "That isn’t fair."
"Two years or ten inches, it makes little difference," Vossler said. "You cannot deny that sheer length has done little—"
Balthier cupped water and splashed it over his back. "The Captain also appears to have a healthy circumference."
"—sheer length has done little, Basch, when we tally up the fields that have been furrowed."
Basch was annoyed. This started with a comment Balthier had made once they all undressed for a bath, and that comment was followed by another of Balthier’s questions. Basch shouldn’t have answered it, but he did. He took the bait and now he had Vossler’s issues to contend with. "Vossler, I said but a minute ago that when it comes to women, most are pleasured by circumference, not length. They yearn a fullness between their legs while the man—"
Vossler interrupted, "Sorry Basch, your record does not hold up."
Basch fell silent. He waited even for the Pirate to still his sounds of splashing water. "Vossler. I am only proving your point for you. Anatomically, four inches is all that is needed. Furthermore, many more women than I can count, plus women I would rather not count, have desired to straddle the thick castle turret that is known to erect between your legs."
"Four inches … that is known to erect?" Balthier’s voice affected a saucy tone that only openly homosexual men used, along with the most rakish of the Archadian elite. Basch had noticed this and he had also taken heed of Balthier’s healthy interest in both genders, along with those of other races.
"Captains," Balthier continued with a wave of his hand, "you both imply that one of you has filled many Dalmascan women’s nests with cuckoos’ eggs while the other has performed quite to the opposite. Yet the Captain who should not feel any envy at all seems to be the very same man who covets what the other has."
"Sky Pirate, must you persist in speaking nonsense?" Vossler spoke with a voice of authority. "Why would a man of noble birth feel envy for Basch’s position when both men were made Captains of the Order? Basch is a man who has chosen the path of the knight and he is quick with his sword. He has served well guarding my back and leading our men. You speak nonsense, Pirate. Still your tongue."
"I think what you covet is the hilt that dangles before you, unless what you covet is blocked by the blade of our executed Captain’s sword," Balthier persisted. "As for the hilt, need we measure his magnificence?"
Basch rubbed his length with his dripping washcloth while he wondered if he should use the cloth to keep himself modestly covered or if he should instead let his all of his body glisten in the hot sun. He’d been out for a few weeks now and the hot sun felt better than it ever had before when its heat touched his skin. Covered or openly naked, both approaches had their advantages: a quiet bath versus a hint of information. His hand hesitated before wetting his washcloth. He slowly scrubbed his chest clean of sweat as he stretched his body to his full height while he washed. He surveyed the hill behind them and the ridge line before them to look for any signs of danger. He saw some movement beneath a shrub, perhaps a hare, a glint of reflected sunlight, and then the flight of two song birds. He waited. Observed. It was nothing to cause any concern.
Vossler was still grimacing when Basch turned back to face his companions. "Basch’s so-called magnificence does nothing but hang between his legs. Give it a rest, pirate."
Balthier wrung out his washcloth. "The length of one’s masculinity when brought to stand fully tumescent has no correlation to its length when flaccid. Pure statistics should make me bet against the hilt of the Captain’s long sword doing anything more than stiffen, but it seems that one of you, earlier, confessed knowledge of the other’s full length and the other spoke of ‘four inch castle turrets known to erect.’ Of course, you are both from Dalmasca’s military with many years of service."
"Balthier." Basch’s voice was firm. "I see not point in continuance of this banter."
"I only state the obvious," Balthier spoke directly at Vossler, ignoring the warning Basch had spoken. "Sir Azelas, the Princess’s guard, is envious of the length he does not possess. Or, should I say, no longer possess."
"You speak the words of a fool," Vossler protested.
"Do I? Our failed Captain’s sword has surely brought you pleasure when you were not filling the wombs of aging noblemen’s wives. That keeps Dalmasca supplied with young soldiers who lack inheritance, doesn’t it? Already building your own army before Dalmasca fell?"
Before Basch could stay rapidly accelerating tensions, Vossler lunged forward to tackle Balthier and, while the injured muscles in Basch’s body roared with pain, he thrust himself to intervene, dropping his stance to withstand a full blow in the back from a man born with much more force and mass. Feet firmly planted and with nothing but his naked, scarred flesh, Basch shielded the rangy, crouching Pirate as water splashed around him.
"Stop it!" Basch said. "Both of you. Just stop it." With the sound of his voice, another small bird flew from a bush on the hill. The leaves shook and then stopped.
Vossler glowered at Basch but when shown no mercy, he groaned and walked away, leaving the pool to gather his clothing and armor.
Basch felt something wet he had not expected between his thighs. "Balthier, enough of this." Basch gingerly regained possession of his genitalia.
"It was only my repayment for your protection, Captain." Balthier tilted his head to the side while attempting to look up through his eyelashes. His mouth remained fixed in a round, red oval as the tip of his tongue lolled along his bottom lip.
Shameless.
"But I fear that you have refused it," Balthier whispered. "But isn’t this how trueblood Dalmascan heroes prefer to receive gratitude from the nobility they protect."
Basch’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at Balthier. His behavior delved to depths that were appalling.
"Ah, but not you." Balthier smiled, cocky and knowing. "And you are hung like the biggest collection of cocks in all of the continent of Valendia. But," Balthier sniffed, "it is merely a passing resemblance — your cock and another’s — and you seem to pack to other side of your trousers."
That’s when it hit Basch: the Sky Pirate knew his brother. Basch grabbed Balthier’s arm and wrenched him upward. "I cannot imagine that you are the eyes of the Empire that keep watch on me."
"No, I am not, but," and then Balthier spoke in a tone that was low and deadly serious, "the Empire does keep close watch of your cock."
Basch pushed Balthier, the shameless fucking son-of-pirate. No, Basch corrected himself as he scowled at Balthier’s pale, lanky frame that scrambled back to his feet after splashing hard in the water. He was a shameless son of Archadian thieving gentry turned pirate. Basch knew it, knew it from Balthier’s mannerisms and speech, and from his none too subtly dropped admissions.
Now it was just a matter of knowing who this Balthier was and why he offered his service, and why he was interested in involving himself with Princess Ashelia’s affairs.
Basch trusted Vossler to keep Ashelia safe as he had done in the past. That left Basch’s eyes free to keep watch of Balthier.
…Omake…
"Fran, pull your ears down!" Penelo hissed. "Crawl over here."
Fran had noticed Penelo’s feet sticking out from the shrubbery along the edge of the ridge as the girl lay on her stomach under the cover of a bush. The girl was quite taken with her role as a medic and an archer who protected ‘heroic knights’ and ‘dashing pirates,’ but Fran had not expected to find Penelo taking her job of protection so seriously. Penelo rarely took a moment to rest.
"Balthier made a giant show in the hot spring pool by dramatically announcing ‘Basch must make women scream loudly for more while he impales them with his tremendous long sword.’ Fran, you’ve got to see this — wait, he’s turning." Penelo focused her binoculars against her eyes while her chin remained flat on the ground.
Fran crouched down and she could see perfectly fine without optical aid and, yes, there was a reason Baltheir had made a fuss.
"Can you hear what Basch is saying?"
Fran rotated one of her ears within the cover of the shrubbery. "Something about … vague, bland, sensible textbook advice on matters of female hume sexual response plus a psychological insight about male behavior and measurement of penis length.
"Oh, Gods in Heaven! What is Balthier doing? Measuring it?!" Even at a whisper, Penelo’s voice brimmed with titillation.
"Seeking information."
"Information on lengths and measures?!"
"No, information. Other kinds."
"Wow." Penelo lifted her eyes from her binoculars and looked at Fran. "He’s absolutely shameless." Penelo paused and then said, "By the way, just how big is Balthier’s hand?"
Fran measured the length of her pirating partner’s hand with her thumb and forefinger; she let Penelo measure her own hand against the length indicated by her fingers.
"The Captain must hang… nearly eight inches when flaccid." The girl was fast and accurate at estimation. "No wonder he wears such loose, baggy pants."
Fran trained her ears on her partner’s exchange with Vossler. Balthier had been fishing for information about that man and it had nothing to do with his … four inches of fortified solidity. Male humes, forever devolving into a contest of measurement.
"I’m not having any luck guessing measurements on the other two." Penelo whispered while adjusting her binoculars.
"Balthier’s maximum is five and three-sixteenth inches."
Penelo snorted. "And three-sixteenthes?"
"Every sixteenth of an inch counts among those men. You did not see the shape he carved into cockpit of the Strahl to mark it as his? You will find the measurements match."
"Well, I know someone who has a glorious inch or two to spare … oh yes, turn, turn… oh, ho, ho! Nice pose, Captain. Let it all hang out while you stand for the people. Just wash your chest for us for a little longer. Slowly, slowly." The girl licked her lips.
"The other Knight has much healthier flesh and a broader, stronger body. Does he not interest you?" Fran asked, genuinely curious about the variability of interests displayed by humes.
"Vossler? He’s an ass. He doesn’t care one bit about the people who actually—"
The branches shook overhead as two small birds took flight. Footsteps behind them stopped. A body crouched. Ashe.
"What are the two of you doing here?"
"Doing my job, keeping watch," Penelo said. Fran noticed her deadpan seriousness.
"I see," Ashe replied, missing the humor in Penelo’s words.
"There’s room here for a third," Penelo said as she shimmied closer to Fran. She gestured to Ashe with her binoculars. "You can borrow my binoculars if you want. There’s a very good view from here."
"I…" Ashe looked uncomfortable accepting Penelo’s request. The toe of her right foot turned inward, girlishly. Fran was learning to read this hume Princess. Forced to grow up without any warning. Young. Abandoned. Insecure.
"Have you seen where Vossler has gone?" Ashe asked. "I was looking for him but…"
Penelo waved her binoculars again. "Come down and join us."
"Vossler is taking a bath with Basch and Balthier," Fran said.
Ashe’s eyes narrowed for just a moment and she pouted. "I’ll seek him later," she said and then she turned and left.
"Her loss, although Vaan has a solid six inches available if she wishes to put it to use, not that she would," Penelo said, pressing the binoculars back to her eyes. "So, what are we missing?"
Fran had kept one ear turned to the conversation down in the hot spring pool. "It seems Vossler does not think ahead many moves. He’s too caught up in only what lays visible before his eyes: what he has and what he doesn’t."
"I told you he’s just ass." Even whispering, the girl’s voice took on a sing-song quality.
Balthier was playing a dangerous game and Fran now knew what he was after. She wasn’t sure if Balthier’s guess was correct. It was a shot in the dark but it seemed logical and somewhat bothersome.
"Oh, shit! Fran! We need to do som—"
Fran pulled the girl down fast and covered her mouth so she wouldn’t make another sound. Penelo struggled for a moment as branches rattled above and then Penelo calmed when she could see no one was hurt, that Balthier was safe, and that he was… flagrantly immodest.
"Wow… I don’t believe Balthier just…" Penelo didn’t even finish her words. Her mouth hung open in a perfect circle.
"He likes to steal the show."
"Brazenly shameless," Penelo whispered, trying hard to sound aghast but failing as a smile curled the corners of her mouth. She hid her smile behind her hand as it continued to grow.
"No, Balthier is fool," Fran corrected as she listened to conversation below. "For all he like to steal, he cannot keep things to himself. He’s always saying things he should not because, deep down, he wants attention and recognition from others. He just wants other to know."
Penelo looked at her and it was clear the girl was trying to sort through the words she had just heard and piece together their meaning. "Know what?" she asked.
"Know who he is."
"Hm…" Penelo looked down at the men as one left the pool. She didn't bother with her binoculars. "I…" Penelo paused, bashful. "I like Baltheir. I think that the Princess was smart to ask for his help. And Basch should learn to be glad that Balthier is here. He’s much better than Vossler."