(no subject)
Title: Redefined Domination
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Word Count: 24666
Spoilers: Guy and Van's past, plus almost up to the Absorption Gate.
Summary: Written for glorious's Vanwork-a-thon.
Prompt given: Van/Guy (or... Guy/Van); rated R/NC-17. Takes place sometime during the game, references their past bond and what has become of them now, Van(or Guy) wants to make it up to the other one, both parties must be... somewhat willing. (Warning: NC-17.)
There were few people who understood the true definition of dominance, the true meaning of the word when it came to people. Van himself had sought out dominance - or at least tried to become worthy of the description - and had won it through skill, cunning, and a wisdom honed beyond his years. For others it was given to them, and still others inherited it by blood.
He found it difficult to respect the latter categories, if only because of the work he put into his own rise to power. Years of planning and careful selection, flawless smiles and unmatched skill had brought him to the position he could now boast from.
Commandant. General. Leader of some of the most well-trained soldiers in all of Auldrant. The peacemakers - the peacekeepers.
Exactly where he wanted to be.
---
Dominance: rule; control; authority; ascendancy.
The disposition of an individual to assert control in dealing with others. A status symbol.
It was incredible, he often thought back, a musing smile on his face - mixed with the anger that came hand in hand with thoughts of Hod - how, despite all his experiences and attempts to earn the respect he needed, one young man had the same amount of respect from him by simply existing.
Not just because of their past, not just because he'd been raised until the age of eleven to serve that young man and his family. Not just in memory of his father, who had found such joy and honour in caring for House Gardios. Not just because Gailardia Galan Gardios had been his brother and best friend as a child.
It was all of those things, woven inextricably together, that made him care so deeply for the man now calling himself Guy Cecil.
He could list the names of people who truly had his love and respect on one hand, were he completely honest with himself, which he more often than not was. Pere, for being the best friend to his father, for keeping Gailardia safe and remaining by his side despite the ruin of the Gardios household. Tear, beloved Mystearica, the sister he raised when their mother could not. Poor child of Hod who had never seen it, who never would - not the real Hod, the land of true glory. He needed no reason to love her aside from that, though he had many, far too many to explain.
And then there was Guy, who had loved him since infancy, who knew he could command his loyal Vandesdelca to do very nearly anything and consider it as good as done. Guy, who had been Gailardia, who still was in his heart of hearts. They were two shards of each others' pasts, Guy and Van, Gailardia and Vandesdelca, the flower and the glory.
He had pledged his sword to the child, sworn vows with the boy, and found the man to be a strong and incredibly patient companion. Too forgiving, perhaps, but that was his nature; as a toddler he'd cried for the liger that bit him, cried for the cat that scratched his arm so deeply it didn't heal for three days. Punishment was not the kind of thought that entered the mind of Gailardia Galan Gardios. Guy Cecil promised vengeance for a slaughtered family but forgave a selfish master's demand for a piggyback, and a game, and one last story, Guy, please.
Entrusting the replica to Guy's care had been, as he'd always known, the right decision.
---
"... He's gone, you know."
Guy had been listening. Belkend was noisy even at night, with machines clinking and turning, generators humming with energy. But with ears trained for fifteen long years to hear everything, everything, he hadn't missed the footsteps of Luke, both coming and going, who had never been trained to keep quiet. As a child he'd stomped through the house and thought himself as silent as an insect.
Still like that now, he was. And still a child.
"I know," Guy responded simply. His eyes shifted back to Van.
"I would ask you to speak more freely," Van began quietly, meeting his gaze, "If I didn't believe you had already done that."
Guy smiled, concealing the pain - as he often did - nostalgia brought on. "You know me too well. I always wondered how, considering we rarely see one another."
Van shook his head, almost chiding, and answered, "You haven't changed as much as you like to tell yourself, Gailardia. To those who knew you before, the years between Hod's destruction and when I gave Luke to you were merely a wrong turn." He smiled, then, hands at ease by his sides, as if they hadn't just pledged to kill each other when the time finally came to fight. "You aren't meant for vengeance. I invited you to join me even knowing that."
"If you knew I'd say no, why did you do it?"
Van chuckled faintly. "For the same reason I made the same offer to Mystearica - you are family, and we both know that family is not meant to be easily discarded."
Guy was silent for a moment, lips tightly pursed. "What about your plans?"
"You know the answer to that already," Van responded. "We've made our choices. What will you do now?"
"What will I do?" Guy echoed. He fell silent again, mulling that over - perhaps listening for any witnesses? - then took two steps forward until he was right in front of Van, nearly touching him, head lifted to watch him. "The only thing I can."
The elder man blinked. Actually blinked. He hadn't expected that.
"This is the last time we'll meet like this," his former master said plainly. His first and last words of their exchange.
Vandesdelca Musto Fende responded by kneeling down and kissing his hand. He smiled up at Gailardia, and even bowed as he was, there wasn't a king in Auldrant who could ever look so regal.
"Shall we make it last?" he murmured.
---
The couch behind his office was old, and squeaked when they fell back against it, but neither cared. Certainly not him, grinding his body against the younger blond, feeling an obvious reaction beneath his groin. Guy - Gailardia - made a sound entirely too sensual for his own good, hands lifting to pull at his uniform, surprisingly careful not to try and tear the fabric off his skin. It was enough to make him proud; he did so love being in control.
"You're slowing down," Guy whispered, a hand snaking under the tabard, curling around his belt. "Out of practice?"
Van chuckled, slowly undoing the buttons of Guy's vest. "Are you in a hurry to get back to him?"
Guy snorted, discarding the belt, tugging loose the shirt beneath it. "He followed me and eavesdropped. He can wait a little longer."
Van smiled, no sign of jealousy in his expression. They both had fair claim to Luke, having raised him more than his own father. And both had that strange, inexplicable bond, though Van himself had discarded him as a defective replica. Only hours ago, even.
Driving him to excel through words of cruelty, or truly his own feelings on the matter? Questions even Guy dared not ask. He knew the answer would only anger him.
"But you can't," he finally murmured, inhaling sharply as Guy's hand slipped into his shirt. "You can't wait."
"Why should I?"
Van laughed again. He didn't answer, slowly easing aside Guy's vest and shirt, baring his chest, leaning in to press his lips to the young man's neck. In Hod, this would be nothing more than a dream, just as Guy might have dreamed about Luke - or even Asch. Servants did not do this to their masters. Servants did not kiss and grind and strip. Servants smiled and bowed and... well, served.
He wasn't a servant, though Guy was still, in many a sense, his master. And Guy groaned under his touch, working to remove his own clothes, and Guy was so very, very willing.
It wasn't until they were both naked, bodies moving together against the scratchy fabric of their makeshift bed, that Guy lifted both hands to push Van back, eyes glazed in muted pleasure. "Hold on," he managed, licking his lips.
"Hn...?"
"Roll over."
Van almost laughed. Almost. Guy's expression was not to be laughed at. "Is that what you really want?" he asked instead.
Guy responded by taking him by the shoulder, easing him up just enough to slide out from under him. Raising a brow, Van gave a faint, surprised grunt as he felt a weight drop against his back a moment later, arms wrapping around his waist. "I've always wanted to," the young man mused, pressing his body against him. "It's always so different with you - I wanted to feel what you feel." He lowered one hand, stroking his way down Van's chest, enjoying the way the other man arched up into it. "Is that wrong?"
"Not wrong," Van responded just as quietly, tilting his head back as he felt Guy pull the tie free of his hair, letting it spill over his shoulders. "Unusual. I've never let anyone do this, you know."
"I know." He felt Guy lean in closer, kissing the back of his neck. "That's why I wanted to."
"Because you'll never have another chance," Van finished for him, not seeing, but knowing of the other man's affirming nod. "... I won't say no."
"I didn't think you would." And with that, Guy slipped a finger inside him.
They moved quickly from there, though not rushed, bodies moving together, one thrusting into another (a gasp, a cry, something no one has ever heard, no one will ever hear again), arms and legs entwined so closely. With Van on hands and knees, Guy pressed against his back, one hand splayed on his chest, the other much lower, wrapped firmly around Van's erection, they danced with each push and pull, sang their pleasure through groans and rasping words of encouragement. Don't stop, I won't stop, oh Yulia, isn't that your ancestor, don't fuss over the details.
Just move.
And Guy moved, and dear sweet hated Lorelei was he ever good at it. Van hadn't expected that - Guy was amazing to move within, muscles tight around his length, body arching, nails digging into his back, but oh, oh, was it ever different when their positions were reversed. Gailardia Galan Gardios was fast, and lithe, and he was far from inexperienced. He'd always known the young man had a wealth of strength hidden in a deceptively slim body, but it was far more satisfying to experience it first-hand.
They took their time with it, prolonging what they knew would be the end of it, all of it - their lives together, the hopes and dreams of two children growing up on an island across the world, an island that had fallen into the endless abyss that was the Qliphoth. It was ending because no longer could they walk together, even if the replica and his friends decided that Guy was untrustworthy and sent him away (an impossibility, for there was no one in the world that Luke would rather have by his side now, they both knew). Guy had chosen his path, and Van had known that it was always a possibility that they'd be at odds. It hadn't stopped him, and Guy respected that.
He didn't like it. But then, neither did Van, and he accepted the loss. Gailardia was a brother of Hod, a beloved master. Gailardia had been a crybaby who wept for the love and support of Vandesdelca when he felt cornered, lonely, or hurt.
Guy Cecil had never cried for him. Only laughed - and sworn revenge on the world that let Hod die.
Broken promises, broken vows.
But the trust, the link between them, intertwined by their years together, their lineage, the child-turned-woman sleeping a few houses down, whom they'd both sworn to care for before she was even born... that could not be broken so easily.
And yet he was still on his hands and knees on a rusted and frayed old couch, feeling the material scratch his flesh and an erection moving within him, brushing up against everything that made his body shudder and tremble, making him moan and arch for more. It wasn't a weakness to show the world what you wanted - it wasn't the world, it was Gailardia, and Gailardia was happy to deliver. Gailardia was kissing his neck and whispering things into his ear he couldn't understand and squeezing the hand around him, pumping it back and forth and up and down and-
- up -
- up -
"Nngh!!"
- down...
With a gasp, they both slumped against the couch, ignoring the mess and the material itching at skin already aflame. He lay still, eyes closed, unmoving as the hand released him to wrap around his waist instead, and he reached for it, their fingers twisting together.
The trust was still there.
"... Satisfied?" he finally murmured, curving his head back to look at his companion.
Guy leaned closer, to study his expression properly in the darkness. "Yeah," he replied after a brief hesitation, shifting a little to lie awkwardly beside him. "It was... pretty unforgettable."
"I'm honoured," Van said dryly, tilting his head until he felt the blond's hair tickle his cheek. He felt the strangest urge to embrace the young man, fighting it for at least half a minute before surrendering. The last time for both of them - last time for everything. He felt Guy's arms around his waist again and smiled.
It was a long time before Guy lifted his head from Van's chest, surprisingly awake despite how late it had become. They studied each other for a moment or so, silent until Guy broke it.
"I won't show any mercy to you the next time we meet, Vandesdelca," he said softly, gaze intense as he watched the older man, heedless of how tightly they were still joined.
"Nor I," Van murmured, unfazed. They both knew it and it need not have been said, if not for the fact that they needed something, something to destroy the thread woven between them, the thread of fate and loyalty and friendship and a sort of love that could only come between master and friend.
Gailardia watched him for a moment longer, then leaned forward and kissed him, tenderly and for a long time, so long that by the end of it Vandesdelca absently wondered if they might just go at it again.
But by the end of it, Gailardia had left him.
---
Note: This was actually really creepy, but after I write a fic, I like to find a dictionary and pick a random word (or group of words) that fits and make a title out of it. I'll flip through and put my finger down until I get a good one and go from there. This time I decided I wanted 'domination' in there somewhere, since as you probably noticed, it's a big part of this fic. I tried the dictionary trick again at a random word generator site, and got 'redefine' for the first word. The word I got when I refreshed was 'dominates'. It was fate, apparently.
I don't particularly like the sex in this, but that wasn't the focus, though it probably was supposed to be. My bad.
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Word Count: 24666
Spoilers: Guy and Van's past, plus almost up to the Absorption Gate.
Summary: Written for glorious's Vanwork-a-thon.
Prompt given: Van/Guy (or... Guy/Van); rated R/NC-17. Takes place sometime during the game, references their past bond and what has become of them now, Van(or Guy) wants to make it up to the other one, both parties must be... somewhat willing. (Warning: NC-17.)
There were few people who understood the true definition of dominance, the true meaning of the word when it came to people. Van himself had sought out dominance - or at least tried to become worthy of the description - and had won it through skill, cunning, and a wisdom honed beyond his years. For others it was given to them, and still others inherited it by blood.
He found it difficult to respect the latter categories, if only because of the work he put into his own rise to power. Years of planning and careful selection, flawless smiles and unmatched skill had brought him to the position he could now boast from.
Commandant. General. Leader of some of the most well-trained soldiers in all of Auldrant. The peacemakers - the peacekeepers.
Exactly where he wanted to be.
---
Dominance: rule; control; authority; ascendancy.
The disposition of an individual to assert control in dealing with others. A status symbol.
It was incredible, he often thought back, a musing smile on his face - mixed with the anger that came hand in hand with thoughts of Hod - how, despite all his experiences and attempts to earn the respect he needed, one young man had the same amount of respect from him by simply existing.
Not just because of their past, not just because he'd been raised until the age of eleven to serve that young man and his family. Not just in memory of his father, who had found such joy and honour in caring for House Gardios. Not just because Gailardia Galan Gardios had been his brother and best friend as a child.
It was all of those things, woven inextricably together, that made him care so deeply for the man now calling himself Guy Cecil.
He could list the names of people who truly had his love and respect on one hand, were he completely honest with himself, which he more often than not was. Pere, for being the best friend to his father, for keeping Gailardia safe and remaining by his side despite the ruin of the Gardios household. Tear, beloved Mystearica, the sister he raised when their mother could not. Poor child of Hod who had never seen it, who never would - not the real Hod, the land of true glory. He needed no reason to love her aside from that, though he had many, far too many to explain.
And then there was Guy, who had loved him since infancy, who knew he could command his loyal Vandesdelca to do very nearly anything and consider it as good as done. Guy, who had been Gailardia, who still was in his heart of hearts. They were two shards of each others' pasts, Guy and Van, Gailardia and Vandesdelca, the flower and the glory.
He had pledged his sword to the child, sworn vows with the boy, and found the man to be a strong and incredibly patient companion. Too forgiving, perhaps, but that was his nature; as a toddler he'd cried for the liger that bit him, cried for the cat that scratched his arm so deeply it didn't heal for three days. Punishment was not the kind of thought that entered the mind of Gailardia Galan Gardios. Guy Cecil promised vengeance for a slaughtered family but forgave a selfish master's demand for a piggyback, and a game, and one last story, Guy, please.
Entrusting the replica to Guy's care had been, as he'd always known, the right decision.
---
"... He's gone, you know."
Guy had been listening. Belkend was noisy even at night, with machines clinking and turning, generators humming with energy. But with ears trained for fifteen long years to hear everything, everything, he hadn't missed the footsteps of Luke, both coming and going, who had never been trained to keep quiet. As a child he'd stomped through the house and thought himself as silent as an insect.
Still like that now, he was. And still a child.
"I know," Guy responded simply. His eyes shifted back to Van.
"I would ask you to speak more freely," Van began quietly, meeting his gaze, "If I didn't believe you had already done that."
Guy smiled, concealing the pain - as he often did - nostalgia brought on. "You know me too well. I always wondered how, considering we rarely see one another."
Van shook his head, almost chiding, and answered, "You haven't changed as much as you like to tell yourself, Gailardia. To those who knew you before, the years between Hod's destruction and when I gave Luke to you were merely a wrong turn." He smiled, then, hands at ease by his sides, as if they hadn't just pledged to kill each other when the time finally came to fight. "You aren't meant for vengeance. I invited you to join me even knowing that."
"If you knew I'd say no, why did you do it?"
Van chuckled faintly. "For the same reason I made the same offer to Mystearica - you are family, and we both know that family is not meant to be easily discarded."
Guy was silent for a moment, lips tightly pursed. "What about your plans?"
"You know the answer to that already," Van responded. "We've made our choices. What will you do now?"
"What will I do?" Guy echoed. He fell silent again, mulling that over - perhaps listening for any witnesses? - then took two steps forward until he was right in front of Van, nearly touching him, head lifted to watch him. "The only thing I can."
The elder man blinked. Actually blinked. He hadn't expected that.
"This is the last time we'll meet like this," his former master said plainly. His first and last words of their exchange.
Vandesdelca Musto Fende responded by kneeling down and kissing his hand. He smiled up at Gailardia, and even bowed as he was, there wasn't a king in Auldrant who could ever look so regal.
"Shall we make it last?" he murmured.
---
The couch behind his office was old, and squeaked when they fell back against it, but neither cared. Certainly not him, grinding his body against the younger blond, feeling an obvious reaction beneath his groin. Guy - Gailardia - made a sound entirely too sensual for his own good, hands lifting to pull at his uniform, surprisingly careful not to try and tear the fabric off his skin. It was enough to make him proud; he did so love being in control.
"You're slowing down," Guy whispered, a hand snaking under the tabard, curling around his belt. "Out of practice?"
Van chuckled, slowly undoing the buttons of Guy's vest. "Are you in a hurry to get back to him?"
Guy snorted, discarding the belt, tugging loose the shirt beneath it. "He followed me and eavesdropped. He can wait a little longer."
Van smiled, no sign of jealousy in his expression. They both had fair claim to Luke, having raised him more than his own father. And both had that strange, inexplicable bond, though Van himself had discarded him as a defective replica. Only hours ago, even.
Driving him to excel through words of cruelty, or truly his own feelings on the matter? Questions even Guy dared not ask. He knew the answer would only anger him.
"But you can't," he finally murmured, inhaling sharply as Guy's hand slipped into his shirt. "You can't wait."
"Why should I?"
Van laughed again. He didn't answer, slowly easing aside Guy's vest and shirt, baring his chest, leaning in to press his lips to the young man's neck. In Hod, this would be nothing more than a dream, just as Guy might have dreamed about Luke - or even Asch. Servants did not do this to their masters. Servants did not kiss and grind and strip. Servants smiled and bowed and... well, served.
He wasn't a servant, though Guy was still, in many a sense, his master. And Guy groaned under his touch, working to remove his own clothes, and Guy was so very, very willing.
It wasn't until they were both naked, bodies moving together against the scratchy fabric of their makeshift bed, that Guy lifted both hands to push Van back, eyes glazed in muted pleasure. "Hold on," he managed, licking his lips.
"Hn...?"
"Roll over."
Van almost laughed. Almost. Guy's expression was not to be laughed at. "Is that what you really want?" he asked instead.
Guy responded by taking him by the shoulder, easing him up just enough to slide out from under him. Raising a brow, Van gave a faint, surprised grunt as he felt a weight drop against his back a moment later, arms wrapping around his waist. "I've always wanted to," the young man mused, pressing his body against him. "It's always so different with you - I wanted to feel what you feel." He lowered one hand, stroking his way down Van's chest, enjoying the way the other man arched up into it. "Is that wrong?"
"Not wrong," Van responded just as quietly, tilting his head back as he felt Guy pull the tie free of his hair, letting it spill over his shoulders. "Unusual. I've never let anyone do this, you know."
"I know." He felt Guy lean in closer, kissing the back of his neck. "That's why I wanted to."
"Because you'll never have another chance," Van finished for him, not seeing, but knowing of the other man's affirming nod. "... I won't say no."
"I didn't think you would." And with that, Guy slipped a finger inside him.
They moved quickly from there, though not rushed, bodies moving together, one thrusting into another (a gasp, a cry, something no one has ever heard, no one will ever hear again), arms and legs entwined so closely. With Van on hands and knees, Guy pressed against his back, one hand splayed on his chest, the other much lower, wrapped firmly around Van's erection, they danced with each push and pull, sang their pleasure through groans and rasping words of encouragement. Don't stop, I won't stop, oh Yulia, isn't that your ancestor, don't fuss over the details.
Just move.
And Guy moved, and dear sweet hated Lorelei was he ever good at it. Van hadn't expected that - Guy was amazing to move within, muscles tight around his length, body arching, nails digging into his back, but oh, oh, was it ever different when their positions were reversed. Gailardia Galan Gardios was fast, and lithe, and he was far from inexperienced. He'd always known the young man had a wealth of strength hidden in a deceptively slim body, but it was far more satisfying to experience it first-hand.
They took their time with it, prolonging what they knew would be the end of it, all of it - their lives together, the hopes and dreams of two children growing up on an island across the world, an island that had fallen into the endless abyss that was the Qliphoth. It was ending because no longer could they walk together, even if the replica and his friends decided that Guy was untrustworthy and sent him away (an impossibility, for there was no one in the world that Luke would rather have by his side now, they both knew). Guy had chosen his path, and Van had known that it was always a possibility that they'd be at odds. It hadn't stopped him, and Guy respected that.
He didn't like it. But then, neither did Van, and he accepted the loss. Gailardia was a brother of Hod, a beloved master. Gailardia had been a crybaby who wept for the love and support of Vandesdelca when he felt cornered, lonely, or hurt.
Guy Cecil had never cried for him. Only laughed - and sworn revenge on the world that let Hod die.
Broken promises, broken vows.
But the trust, the link between them, intertwined by their years together, their lineage, the child-turned-woman sleeping a few houses down, whom they'd both sworn to care for before she was even born... that could not be broken so easily.
And yet he was still on his hands and knees on a rusted and frayed old couch, feeling the material scratch his flesh and an erection moving within him, brushing up against everything that made his body shudder and tremble, making him moan and arch for more. It wasn't a weakness to show the world what you wanted - it wasn't the world, it was Gailardia, and Gailardia was happy to deliver. Gailardia was kissing his neck and whispering things into his ear he couldn't understand and squeezing the hand around him, pumping it back and forth and up and down and-
- up -
- up -
"Nngh!!"
- down...
With a gasp, they both slumped against the couch, ignoring the mess and the material itching at skin already aflame. He lay still, eyes closed, unmoving as the hand released him to wrap around his waist instead, and he reached for it, their fingers twisting together.
The trust was still there.
"... Satisfied?" he finally murmured, curving his head back to look at his companion.
Guy leaned closer, to study his expression properly in the darkness. "Yeah," he replied after a brief hesitation, shifting a little to lie awkwardly beside him. "It was... pretty unforgettable."
"I'm honoured," Van said dryly, tilting his head until he felt the blond's hair tickle his cheek. He felt the strangest urge to embrace the young man, fighting it for at least half a minute before surrendering. The last time for both of them - last time for everything. He felt Guy's arms around his waist again and smiled.
It was a long time before Guy lifted his head from Van's chest, surprisingly awake despite how late it had become. They studied each other for a moment or so, silent until Guy broke it.
"I won't show any mercy to you the next time we meet, Vandesdelca," he said softly, gaze intense as he watched the older man, heedless of how tightly they were still joined.
"Nor I," Van murmured, unfazed. They both knew it and it need not have been said, if not for the fact that they needed something, something to destroy the thread woven between them, the thread of fate and loyalty and friendship and a sort of love that could only come between master and friend.
Gailardia watched him for a moment longer, then leaned forward and kissed him, tenderly and for a long time, so long that by the end of it Vandesdelca absently wondered if they might just go at it again.
But by the end of it, Gailardia had left him.
---
Note: This was actually really creepy, but after I write a fic, I like to find a dictionary and pick a random word (or group of words) that fits and make a title out of it. I'll flip through and put my finger down until I get a good one and go from there. This time I decided I wanted 'domination' in there somewhere, since as you probably noticed, it's a big part of this fic. I tried the dictionary trick again at a random word generator site, and got 'redefine' for the first word. The word I got when I refreshed was 'dominates'. It was fate, apparently.
I don't particularly like the sex in this, but that wasn't the focus, though it probably was supposed to be. My bad.