|sharkcowsheep (sharkcowsheep) wrote in bijou_fandom,|
@ 2007-08-12 00:39:00
|Entry tags:||fic, jade|
FFXII crossover fic: Vossler/Jade
LJ-SEC: (ORIGINALLY POSTED BY silver_ariane)
The best way for fandom to strike back right here at home is lots of porn, right? if not, does it hurt?
(Vossler will not be so happy, because he prefers men to boys, but feel free to pretend Jade's age as whatever you like. :D)
That's what this is, all in honor of laylah's birthday... er, a month ago, and I don't think I'll ever be quite happy with (or stop blushing when thinking of ^^) this, so it's late enough. Was asked for Vossler/Jade with D/s -- it's less kink than I'd hoped, but it got in Making People Happy, which I know is a button of laylah's. Happy birthday! <3
~2300 words of nothing but porn, Vossler/Jade, mild D/s at most.
"What can we do for you, sir? Surely one of my boys caught your eye."
Vossler knows why he's here: knows what he's heard, from other men looking for what he is without needing to visit the seedier houses, and this house and its madam are unorthodox enough that he believes it. "Your boys," he starts, "they have specialties?"
The madam smiles and her eyes glance him up and down. Vossler squares his shoulders. "Some do. Are you interested in anything in particular?"
"Certainly." The madam nods, and turns her back to him to face her boys. "Cobalt," she calls, and a fit Casmilan boy of about twenty arches up off his lounge and walks -- saunters -- over, naked like the rest of them on display and with no inhibitions for it.
The madam clears her throat, and opens her accounting books. "There's an extra charge, if you're looking for pain--"
"No pain," Vossler interrupts, "only a boy able to obey," and the madam raises her hand, but not until after that boy, Cobalt, leans into him and dares to reach between his legs.
"Cobalt," she says, "bring me Jade."
She makes little sense, but Vossler doesn't object when Jade is shown -- he is as handsome as any of them, and if obviously slave-bred he is still more desirable than the presumptuous boy, or either the northerner and the Cabirile in his lap, leering and grinning to each other when they recieve glares.
He turns back to the madam, and hears the fee. Money changes hands -- his purse is heavy, still, but he is glad the city pays their guards well. He carries little coin from the estate; it is, essentially, his, since his father's taking ill, but it would only cause trouble if his brothers somehow found out about such spending.
"Show this gentleman to his room, Jade," instructs the madam. She says "gentleman" without contempt, but its use is almost mocking: he barely lays claim to the title in any case, and a gentleman would not be in this house, nor be admiring these boys half his age, paying obscene amounts and letting one press up to him as they cross the hall.
Jade's hands go to his sword belt as soon as the door is shut. Vossler catches both wrists in one of his hands, holding them firm.
"May I, sir?"
He lets go.
There is no talk, which is for the best. He does not care for the lies he'd hear, the murmurs of how handsome he is and please, I want to see you. Instead, Jade makes slow work of letting him out of his armor, and the uniform under it, touching more than is necessary in ways that have Vossler reluctant to complain.
Vossler leans into it, responding unusually well to the excess. If he had desired only release, he could have found it in many of the girls who frequent the taverns, or in certain men of his division. That he gets often enough, but he makes no habit of taking pleasure, which is what this boy is here to provide.
And he delivers: Jade is talented, pushing his coat off his shoulders and running his hands up Vossler's chest, making small appreciative sounds and lingering over hard muscles when he discovers Vossler's preference for only bare skin underneath.
Vossler closes his arms around Jade. He is not a small boy, near Vossler's own height and solid throughout, but seems it as he leans in, his posture slouched and his face down. Vossler cups his chin in his hand, and tilts his head back. He keeps eye contact for a moment, Jade's eyes wide and bright green like his earrings and necklace, then kisses him.
It is hard and deep and Jade surrenders, easy as that, his mouth open and fingers curling on Vossler's chest, where they still rest. He seems to know what Vossler expects just from his presence, and that skill is as valuable as his body, for all its charms.
"Good," Vossler says when he pulls back. "Go on."
Jade mutters yes and lingers for a moment, licking his lips. His fingers play around Vossler's collar, and when he recieves no instruction, leaves it be. He uses his mouth to follow his hands down Vossler's body. He looks up with wide eyes twice -- the first for permission to use teeth, teasing and without pain, and again when he reaches Vossler's waistline -- both times patient for affirmative nods.
Vossler's heard of this house's shows, and while on assignment into Casmile's more adventurous gambling houses, even seen them advertised. Along with the exotic boys, they boast of displays of pain, power -- he'd thought they exaggerate, like business does, but he is no longer so sure.
He works at the laces of Vossler's trousers to get them just loose enough to reach in and get -- get a hand around Vossler's cock, drawing it out. Jade looks at him with well-acted reverence, before he closes his eyes and casts his face down, waiting.
"You have permission," Vossler says, well aware of the hitch in Jade's breath. "Suck."
"Thank you, sir," Jade replies, and leans in.
Vossler has been hard for some time now, but Jade's mouth only encourages it, taking him deep without flaunting the skill Vossler knows that requires. Jade closes his eyes and concentrates, though, and for a moment Vossler lets him do as he will. It's good, if slow, Jade's mouth pulling back to work at the head of his cock. Vossler lets some of the tension out of his thighs and lets Jade suck him, and, finally relaxed, he feels the barest scrape of teeth, gasps before he can stop himself, and then Jade’s looking up at him with pleading eyes.
It’s an honest mistake – and not entirely unpleasant – but he has no reason to tolerate it, and Jade doesn't seem to expect kindness. "Hands at your back," he says, and takes hold of Jade's hair. His thrusts are demanding, he knows, but Jade can take them, and does so without hesitation.
He uses Jade’s mouth for only few minutes, because already he can feel his need become urgent, far earlier than he would have it. He growls and gets his hand around his cock, next to Jade’s mouth – Jade’s mouth, his tongue, none of which stop moving or even let up – and presses down hard at the base. Vossler drags him off his cock and up to full height by a hand curled over the back of his neck, ignoring Jade’s whispers, "Please, sir, want to be good, want to taste it."
“I want you to get on the bed,” he says. Jade’s arms fall around him and Jade’s mouth is still open, lips red and even fuller than before. "Get oil and prepare yourself." Jade mutters yes, closes his eyes and lingers for a moment, leaving hot dry kisses on Vossler's jaw, rubbing himself against Vossler's cock.
There’s a little bottle on the table that Jade grabs and works the stopper out of before laying back, spreading himself out for Vossler’s eyes. "On my back or my knees, sir?"
"On your back," Vossler says. Jade settles in, parting his thighs, and Vossler kneels on the edge of the bed to watch.
Jade slicks two of his fingers and pushes them in like it's no effort at all. He rocks his hips, straining his wrist to go deep. The other hand is resting at his side, nowhere near his cock. Vossler always needs a hand on himself during this, and he admires Jade's control; he is allowing his cock, full and heavy, to remain untouched between them, not even asking for any relief.
He wonders again if he should be demanding more, if Jade is prepared for that. It's seemed too easy, so far; he's beginning to think he could try anything, and Jade would not protest, with bold honesty that surpasses any dedication to his job. Even the captain, the most patient man Vossler knows, isn't so accommodating.
Vossler catches himself staring and looks up at his face and that's no better: between fluttering eyes accented by the paint on them, and mouth fallen open wide, Vossler only grows harder.
He glances at the oil bottle, placed next to Jade's free hand. His hand brushes Jade's as he reaches, and that makes Jade turn and look. "Don't stop," Vossler says, before he can try.
"Yes, sir," Jade says, but keeps his watch on Vossler's hands. Vossler tips the oil over, dripping it on his hand. Jade's thigh tenses when Vossler rests a hand on it, and he begins to draw his fingers out.
"No," Vossler says, "stay where you are." He reaches down to hold Jade's forearm, though he's already obeying, and when his weight is balanced on his knees, presses his own slick hand in as well, only one finger, confident Jade will feel it. Jade makes a satisfying wounded noise that Vossler can't help but echo, low and hungry; for a moment he thinks perhaps he should've paid extra for a session of pain. He may or may not be returning.
It's a sacrifice, too, when he's so hot inside, tight even for a whore. Vossler lets Jade control the pace for a moment, letting him take the stretch. But he is also growing impatient. "I want to see you come."
"Yes, I want to, sir, thank you," and plenty other pleas spill out of Jade's mouth, and briefly Vossler wonders if he means he can from this touch alone -- but he won't find out. Both Jade's eyes and legs widen when he leans down, seeing his intention, and Jade sighs at the first touch of Vossler's tongue up his cock.
It's awkward to go deep, with their hands in the way and Vossler's weight braced on a single forearm, but it's worth it, Jade's cock filling his throat deep. It's thick, thick enough to remind him nicely that Jade is a boy in name only. Jade keeps thanking him.
"Do you want to come?" Vossler demands. It shouldn't be difficult, when he's like this, trained and squirming on Vossler's hand, visibly relaxing to keep his hips still. Expressing it, however, is -- Jade makes a good image while he tries, licking his lips and giving a breathy, "Yes, sir, please." Vossler draws his hand back and out as he leans down again, and uses it to hold one of Jade's hips down, forceful enough to make it clear he is to take only what he is given.
But Vossler is, still, aching in his own right, and keeps focused, hard pressure on Jade. "Thank you, sir, yes -- please, sir, let me come for you," Jade is saying, "feels so good, thank you," keeps begging even as Vossler lifts off to growl yes and breathe, now and Jade spills at the next touch of Vossler's hand.
Vossler shifts his weight, and runs his hand over the bed for the oil -- not easy, with his eyes focused on Jade's face, recovering and breathing deeply, or his body with the come on his stomach, the boneless limbs, the stretch of his ass with his hand withdrawing. Vossler's hand closes on the bottle, finally, and he strokes his cock slippery and dripping.
All tension is gone as Jade lays there, and he is pliable, the muscles in his thighs betraying obvious strength while Vossler pushes them up, wide, showing him off. He's trembling slightly but takes Vossler in easy as sin when he pushes, and it's good, gods, this isn't going to last long.
But there's no reason for it to -- Jade is sated and Vossler suspects he wouldn't complain if he wasn't, from the small moans and the cling of his arms. "Hands above your head," Vossler tells him, and Jade gets them up and crosses them without a thought. His legs close around Vossler's waist instead, careful not to dirty his trousers any more than they already have. No, he wouldn't complain.
He doesn't now, even at the clear overstimulation -- Vossler can feel when he reaches down how his body, at least, is trying to get hard again. "Make noise for me." Vossler wants to hear it.
Jade delivers, moaning at every movement, broken, low sounds that make Vossler growl himself. He keeps thrusting, and Jade tightens around him but it isn't that any more than pure need that makes him let go, panting, coming hard and shaky.
He rests on his arms over Jade, who does his best to untangle their limbs. "Thank you, sir," Jade is still saying. "I like making you, ah," a sharp intake of breath, there, when Vossler pulls out, "like making you feel good."
"Then clean me up," Vossler says, squirming at the mess they've made.
Jade nods and rolls over, opening a night table drawer for a cloth and dipping it in the porcelain bowl on the table. His touch and the cloth are both surprisingly soft as he cleans Vossler's cock, first, then Vossler turns away when he reaches between his own legs. Privacy may be out of place here, but like this, it is most comfortable for him. He laces his trousers again, to occupy his hands.
He finishes, turns and sees Jade clean, so he cups Jade's face again, drawing him close. His skin is only attractively flushed, and Vossler is glad beyond looks -- they have near identical coloring, so Vossler will have nothing to worry about upon leaving. He leans in for a kiss, but Jade paws at him, and he pulls back immediately.
"I -- I'm sorry, sir," Jade says, regret plain on his face, "I may have kept you longer than your hour already."
"I believe it was I who kept you," Vossler says, smug. He runs a thumb over Jade's lip, which Jade leans into. "Don't worry. You were very good."
If only one moment tonight is sincere, it's Jade's smile.