fic: Whisky
Another one written for the Kissing Battle Redux. This was for a request made by
jameva for Auron/Jecht. Although, this is technically Jecht/Auron, I suppose.
Jecht didn't even have to turn around to know that he was being watched. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Are you aware that you were singing like a dying chocobo?"
Auron sat down on the log next to him and Jecht shot him a grin. "C'mon, I'm not that bad."
"Yes. You are." Auron scowled into the fire.
Jecht snickered and took another swig of the bottle before offering it to Auron. "Want some?"
Auron glanced sidelong at him with a look that clearly said Jecht was crazy to have asked. "It's late. You should be sleeping. We have a lot of ground to cover tomor-"
Jecht heaved an exaggerated sigh. "You always like this, man? How d'you walk with that thing up your ass?"
Auron did not deign to answer the ridiculous question. This only made Jecht laugh harder.
"Quiet. You're going to wake Braska."
"Hey, man, f'my singin' didn't wake him..."
"I put a Sleep spell on him. If you aren't going to sleep, you at least will not deprive him of his own rest. But it won't last too long."
"So cast a Haste on me tomorrow and I'll be as chipper as a squirrel on crack."
"A what? Jecht, you are drunk."
That same rakish grin, with a crookedness to it that turned Auron's mouth dry. "Clever boy," Jecht said, winking, and Auron couldn't take any more of this disaster waiting to happen.
He sighed, shaking his head, and started to stand up. "Jecht, go to sle-what are you-"
Jecht had dropped the bottle to the ground and the whisky was soaking into the soft earth; was twisting his fingers in Auron's jacket and pulling him down to press their mouths together. It was clumsy and awkward and tasted sharp and sour like the whisky Jecht had been downing like water. The stubble on Jecht's unshaven face scraped at his cheeks and Auron was standing bent at an uncomfortable angle.
And yet there was no way for Auron to deny that it was not an unpleasant experience - not by a long shot. And when Jecht pulled away, all Auron could say (and it was more of a croak than anything), "You're drunk."
"You already said that," Jecht answered, and somehow he was still grinning.
Auron stumbled back to the tent before he made an even bigger fool of himself than he already had.
But he couldn't wipe the taste of whisky from his lips.
jameva for Auron/Jecht. Although, this is technically Jecht/Auron, I suppose.
Jecht didn't even have to turn around to know that he was being watched. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Are you aware that you were singing like a dying chocobo?"
Auron sat down on the log next to him and Jecht shot him a grin. "C'mon, I'm not that bad."
"Yes. You are." Auron scowled into the fire.
Jecht snickered and took another swig of the bottle before offering it to Auron. "Want some?"
Auron glanced sidelong at him with a look that clearly said Jecht was crazy to have asked. "It's late. You should be sleeping. We have a lot of ground to cover tomor-"
Jecht heaved an exaggerated sigh. "You always like this, man? How d'you walk with that thing up your ass?"
Auron did not deign to answer the ridiculous question. This only made Jecht laugh harder.
"Quiet. You're going to wake Braska."
"Hey, man, f'my singin' didn't wake him..."
"I put a Sleep spell on him. If you aren't going to sleep, you at least will not deprive him of his own rest. But it won't last too long."
"So cast a Haste on me tomorrow and I'll be as chipper as a squirrel on crack."
"A what? Jecht, you are drunk."
That same rakish grin, with a crookedness to it that turned Auron's mouth dry. "Clever boy," Jecht said, winking, and Auron couldn't take any more of this disaster waiting to happen.
He sighed, shaking his head, and started to stand up. "Jecht, go to sle-what are you-"
Jecht had dropped the bottle to the ground and the whisky was soaking into the soft earth; was twisting his fingers in Auron's jacket and pulling him down to press their mouths together. It was clumsy and awkward and tasted sharp and sour like the whisky Jecht had been downing like water. The stubble on Jecht's unshaven face scraped at his cheeks and Auron was standing bent at an uncomfortable angle.
And yet there was no way for Auron to deny that it was not an unpleasant experience - not by a long shot. And when Jecht pulled away, all Auron could say (and it was more of a croak than anything), "You're drunk."
"You already said that," Jecht answered, and somehow he was still grinning.
Auron stumbled back to the tent before he made an even bigger fool of himself than he already had.
But he couldn't wipe the taste of whisky from his lips.