Fic: Desperate Times (FFXII, Balthier/Basch/Fran)
Title: Desperate Times
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Pairing: Balthier/Basch/Fran
Author: Mooglepuff
Recipient: Incarnadine
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Sex pollen of a sort. Ahem.
Desperate Times
It was Balthier's voice floating in from the hallway that finally tore Basch's attention from the muffled snarling. He twisted, unwilling to entirely turn his back, and what little explanation had since found substance in his mind's silence fled him.
"I always knew Fran didn't take well to being tied up, but this…." Balthier ducked through the beaded fringe with no pause in his gait. A few paces in he drew to a stop, his eyebrow keenly arching. He plucked at the cuff of his sleeve and inclined his head towards the chair holding his partner bound and gagged. "This is a bit extreme, don't you think?"
Basch straightened and pulled his hand away from the hilt of his sword. "She was-"
"Somewhat forceful?" Balthier said, interrupting as soundly as the angry crack of wooden legs against the floor. He sported a knowing smile, one that curved just the corners of his mouth, and a flurry of thorns prickled at Basch's spine.
Basch ignored the sensation and renewed his spell, the dizzy rush of energy leaving him to reinforce the invisible shackles around Fran's limbs.
"The gag-" Balthier began, and then shook his head, "Ah, of course, you've no skill with green."
"I didn't know what other measures to take."
"To keep her mouth busy? And here I thought you'd hardly been liberated of your own fetters long enough to slake those thirsts." For a heartbeat, Balthier's smile deepened into wickedness. He headed directly for Fran. Her hands flexed to splay as wide as they could, gouged bits of wood flaking away from what Basch could now think only of as talons.
The row of scratches raked high across Basch's stomach stung with heat, yet they didn't compare to the fiery rush that claimed his innards. He couldn't help but take umbrage at Balthier's comment. If the pirate thought he'd be so base as to take advantage of someone whom he'd immobilised, regardless that Fran had attacked first….
Balthier studied the bindings with a clear intent to release her, and Basch's hand found its way back to his sword. He was as ready to defend himself as he was to step in should Balthier do something untoward. "You've dealt with her like this before, then."
"It's a miracle you found anything strong enough to hold her," Balthier said by way of reply. A thoughtful hum sang in his throat when he crouched beside the heavy chair. He glanced up, unfazed by the snapping bite Fran aimed at his cheek.
"I nearly didn't," Basch said. He'd caught her off-guard with the Immobilise by chance alone and the gag had been as much to protect himself from her teeth as a lucky accident that had kept her from dispelling the magick. The ropes that now tightly pinned her frame were an afterthought.
"It's all for show," Balthier said, and caught a few gossamer-thin strands of Fran's hair between his fingers. She made a deeper sound. Her eyes were wild, swirling.
"For show," Basch repeated, and he removed his hand from his sword again, arm pulling back to fully reveal the welts scoring his front. Balthier gave them a brief look before he rose.
"Oh, don't mistake me, in the heat of the moment, pardon the phrase, she does at times underestimate her own strength." Balthier's fingers went to his vest and he began undoing the catches as calmly and casually as if he were preparing to bathe. "Will you be staying?"
Basch's brow drew tight. "Staying?"
Balthier's vest hit the floor, and he crouched in front of Fran, his hands sliding up the insides of her legs before tracing the ropes to their knots. The spell was wearing off again, and her hands curled over the arms of the chair. The tips of her claws bit into the wood. She spread her legs, or tried to, and hissed when Balthier failed to free her quickly. Things began to fall into place, all of Balthier's sly comments coupling with Fran's aggression and the sounds she was currently making to leave Basch feeling as if he'd just taken a blow to the head.
"You were in the army, surely you understand a bit of give and take amongst comrades."
Dizzied, heart speeding to pump blood furiously south, Basch cleared his throat. "You mean to say she's-"
"Well, I wouldn't say it's quite so simple as that. She's a viera not a hume, and for all the ways our races are similar, we possess an equal number of differences.
"You'll find, for example, that a viera's body is considerably more accommodating, if you catch my meaning." The ropes fell away and Balthier stood. Fran moved with him, practically glued to his chest. She spit out the gag and clutched at his sides, claws pricking his shirt. Hissing, she leaned down to bite at his jaw. Balthier's hand slid down the line of her back, and the few pieces of armour Fran wore seemed to peel away in his wake. All the while her eyes were hot and hungry on Basch.
"Now, then, Fran's had to wait quite enough already, don't you think? Have you made a decision as to whether or not you'll stay?"
Basch swallowed, hard. He traced his fingertips over the scratches on his stomach and balanced his options on a scale. All the blood in his body had since left his head and his thoughts moved sluggishly. Fran had said nothing, but she didn't seem to hold a grudge over his misreading the situation, and Balthier certainly looked eager enough to add another body in the mix.
"You're certain she consents and is aware despite her condition?" Basch asked. Balthier had been right that he'd not had the opportunity to well satisfy his wants since tasting freedom again. He ached to join them, but with how reserved Fran usually was, he needed to be certain to feel comfortable.
"Her 'condition' is as natural to her as the cycles of the moon in the sky, but I give you my word, if you're as good in bed as you look, neither she nor I will have any complaint when the sun rises," Balthier said, and loosened his hold on Fran's waist. She peeled away from him, twisting around to face Basch. She held out an arm to beckon him forward and bared her teeth in a smile both vicious and alluring.
"No complaints. Is that a promise?" Basch asked, hand going once more to his sword. He unfastened the scabbard to place the weapon within easy reach.
"One certainly hopes."
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Pairing: Balthier/Basch/Fran
Author: Mooglepuff
Recipient: Incarnadine
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Sex pollen of a sort. Ahem.
Desperate Times
It was Balthier's voice floating in from the hallway that finally tore Basch's attention from the muffled snarling. He twisted, unwilling to entirely turn his back, and what little explanation had since found substance in his mind's silence fled him.
"I always knew Fran didn't take well to being tied up, but this…." Balthier ducked through the beaded fringe with no pause in his gait. A few paces in he drew to a stop, his eyebrow keenly arching. He plucked at the cuff of his sleeve and inclined his head towards the chair holding his partner bound and gagged. "This is a bit extreme, don't you think?"
Basch straightened and pulled his hand away from the hilt of his sword. "She was-"
"Somewhat forceful?" Balthier said, interrupting as soundly as the angry crack of wooden legs against the floor. He sported a knowing smile, one that curved just the corners of his mouth, and a flurry of thorns prickled at Basch's spine.
Basch ignored the sensation and renewed his spell, the dizzy rush of energy leaving him to reinforce the invisible shackles around Fran's limbs.
"The gag-" Balthier began, and then shook his head, "Ah, of course, you've no skill with green."
"I didn't know what other measures to take."
"To keep her mouth busy? And here I thought you'd hardly been liberated of your own fetters long enough to slake those thirsts." For a heartbeat, Balthier's smile deepened into wickedness. He headed directly for Fran. Her hands flexed to splay as wide as they could, gouged bits of wood flaking away from what Basch could now think only of as talons.
The row of scratches raked high across Basch's stomach stung with heat, yet they didn't compare to the fiery rush that claimed his innards. He couldn't help but take umbrage at Balthier's comment. If the pirate thought he'd be so base as to take advantage of someone whom he'd immobilised, regardless that Fran had attacked first….
Balthier studied the bindings with a clear intent to release her, and Basch's hand found its way back to his sword. He was as ready to defend himself as he was to step in should Balthier do something untoward. "You've dealt with her like this before, then."
"It's a miracle you found anything strong enough to hold her," Balthier said by way of reply. A thoughtful hum sang in his throat when he crouched beside the heavy chair. He glanced up, unfazed by the snapping bite Fran aimed at his cheek.
"I nearly didn't," Basch said. He'd caught her off-guard with the Immobilise by chance alone and the gag had been as much to protect himself from her teeth as a lucky accident that had kept her from dispelling the magick. The ropes that now tightly pinned her frame were an afterthought.
"It's all for show," Balthier said, and caught a few gossamer-thin strands of Fran's hair between his fingers. She made a deeper sound. Her eyes were wild, swirling.
"For show," Basch repeated, and he removed his hand from his sword again, arm pulling back to fully reveal the welts scoring his front. Balthier gave them a brief look before he rose.
"Oh, don't mistake me, in the heat of the moment, pardon the phrase, she does at times underestimate her own strength." Balthier's fingers went to his vest and he began undoing the catches as calmly and casually as if he were preparing to bathe. "Will you be staying?"
Basch's brow drew tight. "Staying?"
Balthier's vest hit the floor, and he crouched in front of Fran, his hands sliding up the insides of her legs before tracing the ropes to their knots. The spell was wearing off again, and her hands curled over the arms of the chair. The tips of her claws bit into the wood. She spread her legs, or tried to, and hissed when Balthier failed to free her quickly. Things began to fall into place, all of Balthier's sly comments coupling with Fran's aggression and the sounds she was currently making to leave Basch feeling as if he'd just taken a blow to the head.
"You were in the army, surely you understand a bit of give and take amongst comrades."
Dizzied, heart speeding to pump blood furiously south, Basch cleared his throat. "You mean to say she's-"
"Well, I wouldn't say it's quite so simple as that. She's a viera not a hume, and for all the ways our races are similar, we possess an equal number of differences.
"You'll find, for example, that a viera's body is considerably more accommodating, if you catch my meaning." The ropes fell away and Balthier stood. Fran moved with him, practically glued to his chest. She spit out the gag and clutched at his sides, claws pricking his shirt. Hissing, she leaned down to bite at his jaw. Balthier's hand slid down the line of her back, and the few pieces of armour Fran wore seemed to peel away in his wake. All the while her eyes were hot and hungry on Basch.
"Now, then, Fran's had to wait quite enough already, don't you think? Have you made a decision as to whether or not you'll stay?"
Basch swallowed, hard. He traced his fingertips over the scratches on his stomach and balanced his options on a scale. All the blood in his body had since left his head and his thoughts moved sluggishly. Fran had said nothing, but she didn't seem to hold a grudge over his misreading the situation, and Balthier certainly looked eager enough to add another body in the mix.
"You're certain she consents and is aware despite her condition?" Basch asked. Balthier had been right that he'd not had the opportunity to well satisfy his wants since tasting freedom again. He ached to join them, but with how reserved Fran usually was, he needed to be certain to feel comfortable.
"Her 'condition' is as natural to her as the cycles of the moon in the sky, but I give you my word, if you're as good in bed as you look, neither she nor I will have any complaint when the sun rises," Balthier said, and loosened his hold on Fran's waist. She peeled away from him, twisting around to face Basch. She held out an arm to beckon him forward and bared her teeth in a smile both vicious and alluring.
"No complaints. Is that a promise?" Basch asked, hand going once more to his sword. He unfastened the scabbard to place the weapon within easy reach.
"One certainly hopes."