A Little Alone Time
Title: A Little Alone Time Author: freezing_rayne Rating: NC-17 Fandom: Final Fantasy 12 Characters: Vaan->Balthier Word Count: 778 Prompt: Vaan, Masturbation, "It was nice to let go once in awhile"
Finally. Finally, a room to himself.
Well, for a scant few hours at least. Truly, Vaan doesn't mind sleeping on the ground--two years of street-slumming has cured him of that--but there are drawbacks to traveling with a crowd.
But here, back in Rabanastre, in the Cloudbourne, there's no chance of being disturbed. Time to take care of a few things that have been too long in coming.
There's plenty of time, and a bath for when he's done, so he takes the opportunity to strip down completely, dump his sweaty, stinking clothes in a heap in the corner. He stretches out on the bedspread, cock already so hard it aches, drooling fluid from the tip in clear, thick drops. Vaan uses a finger to spread it around, getting the head nice and slick. He groans as he strokes the sensitive spot, body shivering like its taken a weak thunder spell to the spine.
He's ready to go after nearly the first stroke, body humming for the release its been denied over the last week or so, but he's learned a long time ago how to make these things last, scale up the pleasure till it's more than he can take.
He's already dug through Balthier's things and emerged with a little glass jar of something viscous and slick-- he knew he could count on the pirate to be prepared for all situations--so he starts by getting his cock slick all over, spreading his legs and pumping up into his fist. He keeps his strokes easy, at least at first, letting the thrill of it suffuse his veins, center in his stomach, pulling tight.
Vaan closes his eyes, thinks back to early this year, about the girl from Lowtown, the one who'd let him fuck her, not once but twice, in the back room of her father's shop. The noises she'd made, the way her breasts had felt in his hands. He strokes himself harder, thoughts turning to the boys who'd meet in the waterways, suck each other off, talk dirty, get each other going. He gives his cock a squeeze, remembers when he'd taught Kites how to do this, the way the kid had looked so shocked when he'd gone off, cock pulsing, little body shaking.
His breathing's coming faster, hips stuttering, other hand moving up to pinch and tease his nipples, before dipping back into the jar and trailing down between his legs. He moans low and excited when he pushes a finger into himself, circling his hips, cock twitching as he strokes himself harder. Starts thinking to the future instead.
Basch, and the way he looks dealing a killing blow to a monster, the muscles working in his back, sweat beading along his brow. Wonders what it would be like to have all that power and rage focused on him, deep, aching thrusts, that hoarse, broken voice in his ear.
He pushes another finger into himself, stroking the slick muscle, moaning, searching for the spot inside that makes his belly tighten and hips writhe against the bed.
"Ahh..."
He thinks about Fran next, but not for long. Even fantasizing about her seems risky, somehow, like she could sense him doing it, those long ears picking up his activities from far away.
So he settles on Balthier instead, who is second-best by no means. The pirate has no qualms about stripping down nearly naked in order to bathe whenever they come across a suitable place, and his tan skin and lithe muscle have been the greatest source of Vaan's discomfort. Along with that little smirk that says he knows exactly what he's doing to him.
He finally hits that spot inside and his whole body jerks. His hand's moving furiously now, feet scrabbling over the bed as he tries to stave it off just a little longer. He's making a good deal of noise, little broken gasps as he rubs at the place inside him.
"You put on quite the show." The honeyed drawl slides over his skin, and he comes in a shuddering crescendo, spurting hot across his stomach, body clenching down around his fingers. His vision darkens around the edges, and it isn't until he's lying limp on the bed that he finally manages to flutter his eyes open.
Balthier is lounging against the wall, arms crossed, smirking, all too pleased with himself. The glow from the window slants of his hair, makes it gleam copper in the evening light.
"There was no need to stop on my account, you know. I just came in to fetch a few things." He procures his coin purse from the table, letting himself back out into the hall. "Carry on."