Gay for Braska, or Mugs writes almost-pr0n.
Title: I don't really like dudes, I'm just gay for Braska.
Fandom: FFX
Pairing: Auron/Braska
Rating: Pg-13
Wordcount: 249
Notes: Written for venefica_aura for Final Fantasy V-Day 2009.
Auron scowled.
This was nothing remarkable --on his best of days, Braska's youngest guardian was a scowl within a scowl within a scowl. An endless string of hmphs and furrowed brows and just barely tolerating his fellow guardian.
"It's really not that bad, is it now?" Of course, Braska knew Auron well enough to know that it really was that bad, for him.
"Jecht was right." Auron said with equal parts disgust and disbelief.
"Well, he would know. He says it's warm where he comes from."
"Zanarkand," Auron winced at Braska's touch, "is north of Bevelle."
Braska curved his fingers around Auron's bicep, firmly working the balm into sunburned skin and knotted muscle. "How's that feel?"
"Smells like roses."
"You wouldn't have seen this stuff up in Bevelle. It's only sold south of Macalania. Cactuar Rose Balm. Al Bhed formula. My wife swore by it."
Auron grunted at the words Al Bhed. Braska pointedly ignored him and slipped his thumbnail under the hem of Auron's coat. "I'm going to need to see your other arm."
"But my other arm isn't burnt."
Braksa leaned in closer. He knew his breath was hot and moist against Auron's ear, and he knew how that translated to his guardian's bare arm --stiffened and goosefleshed. But above all, Braska knew--
"You didn't need my help to put on sun balm, Auron." And he said this with a smile he knew Auron could hear, as he traced the curve of two exposed shoulders in a way that Braska knew would break even a man like Auron.
Fandom: FFX
Pairing: Auron/Braska
Rating: Pg-13
Wordcount: 249
Notes: Written for venefica_aura for Final Fantasy V-Day 2009.
Auron scowled.
This was nothing remarkable --on his best of days, Braska's youngest guardian was a scowl within a scowl within a scowl. An endless string of hmphs and furrowed brows and just barely tolerating his fellow guardian.
"It's really not that bad, is it now?" Of course, Braska knew Auron well enough to know that it really was that bad, for him.
"Jecht was right." Auron said with equal parts disgust and disbelief.
"Well, he would know. He says it's warm where he comes from."
"Zanarkand," Auron winced at Braska's touch, "is north of Bevelle."
Braska curved his fingers around Auron's bicep, firmly working the balm into sunburned skin and knotted muscle. "How's that feel?"
"Smells like roses."
"You wouldn't have seen this stuff up in Bevelle. It's only sold south of Macalania. Cactuar Rose Balm. Al Bhed formula. My wife swore by it."
Auron grunted at the words Al Bhed. Braska pointedly ignored him and slipped his thumbnail under the hem of Auron's coat. "I'm going to need to see your other arm."
"But my other arm isn't burnt."
Braksa leaned in closer. He knew his breath was hot and moist against Auron's ear, and he knew how that translated to his guardian's bare arm --stiffened and goosefleshed. But above all, Braska knew--
"You didn't need my help to put on sun balm, Auron." And he said this with a smile he knew Auron could hear, as he traced the curve of two exposed shoulders in a way that Braska knew would break even a man like Auron.