[Suikoden IV] High Tide
Title: High Tide
Fandom: Suikoden IV
Pairing: Sigurd/Hervey
Rating: R
Warnings: Snarking, innuendo and pr0n. Read at your own risk.
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing the boys for a while.
High Tide
Cheering rose as the Grishand finally scored a hit against the enemy ship, blowing a large hole in its portside.
Sigurd strained his eyes to see through the cloud of heavy smoke to get a good look at the other ship and survey the damage. The small and more maneuverable smuggler vessel had been leading them on for the better part of an hour, before finally turning and heading straight into battle. Their opponent had been giving as good as he got, and Sigurd couldn't get rid of the impression that even a direct hit would not stop them.
"Captain!" he heard the lookout shout. "They're heading straight for us!"
An unholy red glow pierced the smoke, and Sigurd could just barely make out the ship's silhouette, ablaze and moving towards them at full speed.
Alarmed shouting from the crew, and Lady Kika was barking orders to get ready for boarding. Sigurd found himself automatically looking for Hervey, a habit that had begun to manifest itself the longer he had been working together with the other man. It was a strange feeling, to rely so much on somebody when his own judgment told him to rely only on himself.
It wasn't that he hadn't always been perfectly capable of holding his own in a fight, Sigurd decided, not at all, but he had discovered that it was nice to have Hervey there, to have him watch and do the tricky moves with him. It made him feel...
"Better grab onto something," Hervey called from behind, jogging up to him. "Nasty little buggers don't know when to quit. You ready?"
It was kind of comforting to know that Hervey had come to rely on him as much as he had come to rely on him. He nodded.
"Then let's take 'em!"
Sigurd just smiled into the oncoming firestorm.
---
The camaraderie he found among the pirates was unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome. It was very different from being with the people in Middleport, who had admired him more for his standing than anything else. Here, he was respected because of his skill with a blade and his unwavering loyalty to Lady Kika, and he was approached for different reasons.
Sigurd suspected that even Hervey, for all his insolent behavior, respected him in his own way, because he had seen how Hervey treated people he didn't respect at all. Or at least, he liked to believe that, because Hervey always treated him differently than everyone else, calling him 'prettyboy' and teasing him mercilessly, or telling a dirty joke in the middle of lunch just to see Sigurd choke on his drink, or latching onto him like an octopus and announcing that they were "going to retire now, wink-wink, nudge-nudge."
Sigurd knew that the best way to deal with Hervey's more annoying traits was to stay cool and not to rise to the bait, or, if all else failed and Hervey got touchy-feely, smack him a good one to drive him off.
Actually, smacking Hervey was what he was contemplating right this very second, where they had been having dinner with Lady Kika, but Hervey had decided to abandon his seat in favor of hanging over his shoulder, for reasons that no one but Hervey had figured out, and even that was doubtful.
"C'mon, Sigurd, man. Why do you have to be so stiff all the time? It's no fun!" he said and began rubbing Sigurd's shoulders in a highly suggestive manner. "Unless..." he continued slyly, "That's got to do with something you aren't telling us."
Lady Kika shook her head with a half-amused, half-exasperated snort, and Sigurd just rolled his eyes. It wasn't worth it to say anything.
"Perhaps... you need some help with that, hm?" Hervey asked, grinning like a fiend, and unceremoniously dropped a hand to Sigurd's groin. Sigurd sat bolt upright at that, and hissed through clenched teeth, "You have exactly two seconds to remove your hand from there, Hervey."
Hervey's grin merely widened. "Are you suuu~re? We're talking about exclusive rights to my right hand here," he said in a stage whisper, and squeezed.
Sigurd's punch caught him square in the jaw, and he stumbled back, clutching his chin. Sigurd took at least a little satisfaction from the fact that this would make for a nice bruise come tomorrow.
"Ow," Hervey whined, affecting a wounded look. "You see that, Lady Kika? You see how he treats me?"
Meanwhile, the pirates at the nearby tables had abandoned their conversation in favor of watching the scene.
"And after I offered to help him with his problem!" Hervey complained, making a few unambiguous gestures for his new audience. Sigurd slowly got up from his seat, eyes narrowing. Hervey caught the dangerous look, and lifted his hands in a pacifying gesture, backing away. "Aw, man, you wouldn't hurt your old buddy, right?"
Sigurd simply reached for his throwing knives. Looking completely crushed, Hervey said, "Ah, right. You would. Okay, okay. I can take a hint." And he slunk away between the tables, complete with fake sniffles. For a split second, Sigurd almost felt bad for him, despite knowing that it was all an act.
Kika was watching him like she knew exactly what was going through his mind.
Sigurd sighed. "I know what you're thinking, Lady Kika, but don't say it. Please don't say it."
She smirked and made a lip-zipping gesture, only to be interrupted by Hervey's loud voice. "Hey, Sigurd!" he yelled from across the cave, loud enough for even the last pirate to hear. "You don't know what you're missing! I would've treated you like a princess. Done you nice and slow!"
Sigurd knew that if he wanted to win this one, he should sit back down. Ignore the wolf-whistles and catcalls from the other pirates, and sit down. But all he could see was Hervey leering at him like he knew exactly that Sigurd wasn't going to make him pay.
Screw dignity, Sigurd thought, and gave chase.
---
Hervey had lifted a bottle of some fine rum from their trading stock, because it was a free evening and free evenings were best spent with a good drink, according to him. Sigurd liked the stuff nowhere near as much as Hervey did, and wasn't one for getting drunk, either, but he knew that he could either agree right away, or subject himself to hours of teasing and whining, until he lost his patience and agreed anyway, just to shut him up. Hervey could be decent company when he was not trying to drive Sigurd up a wall, though, and besides, a drunk Hervey always made for excellent blackmail material.
But tonight, Hervey was unusually subdued and didn't look him in the eye when Sigurd tried to make conversation, instead opting to stare into the dancing flames of the campfire. How strange. Sigurd would have liked to know what was wrong, but didn't ask. Hervey would tell him what was bothering him in his own time, of that he was sure.
Finally, Hervey uncorked the bottle and poured an even amount into two metal cups. They raised them in a silent toast, but instead of gulping down the alcohol like he usually did, Hervey lowered the cup into the sand.
"Hey, Sigurd," he said. "There's something I've been meaning to do."
Sigurd would have liked to ask what was wrong, because that was the first time Hervey had ever been so quiet, but then there was a hand in his hair and lips on his, and he was tasting the sugarcane that Hervey had been chewing on all afternoon.
His brain had to have short-circuited, because all he could do was blink stupidly and feel glad that this wasn't another one of Hervey's jokes. He decided to save thinking for later, though, because Hervey's tongue was nudging against his lips, so he opened his mouth, tasting the sugarcane more strongly, heard Hervey moan and felt the hand tighten in his hair.
He wasn't sure how long the kiss lasted, except that they were both out of breath when it finally ended, and that Hervey was sitting there with his eyes still closed.
In the ensuing silence, Hervey cracked one eye open and asked, "What, you're not going to wallop me in the jaw?"
Sigurd blinked, realizing that Hervey was giving him an out here, a chance to act indignant and end this before it went too far, but found that he didn't need that. He smiled mischievously. "This hardly warrants a punch. I've had better back in the day."
Hervey just stared at him, embarrassment and a little bit of anger burning on his cheeks. "E-excuse me?!"
He smirked. "On a scale from one to ten, I'd give it a five. Hardly worth the effort."
Hervey made a strangled noise. "I- I- Why you... I'll show you and your scale!" he yelled and pounced.
His rum went flying, the cup clattering against some rocks as Sigurd was pushed onto his back in the sand, but he found that he didn't mind. The taste of sugarcane was much more interesting.
---
Sigurd wasn't quite sure how he had expected their relationship to change, if at all. A little less teasing would have been nice, but Hervey had a habit of doing exactly the opposite of what Sigurd wanted, and Sigurd's consent had apparently been taken as permission to take the innuendo and flirting to a whole new level.
However, Sigurd had been quick to discover that nothing could turn Hervey into a landed fish as thoroughly as actually flirting back. Lady Kika had certainly been laughing a lot more since he had taken up on beating Hervey at his own game, so Sigurd supposed things were good.
It had grown difficult to do more than flirting, though, since they had allied themselves with Lazlo and his crew, so Sigurd couldn't say that he was surprised to be grabbed on his way to the third deck, and dragged into an unoccupied storage room hardly the size of a broom closet.
"Got you," Hervey murmured, embracing him from behind and nuzzling his ear.
"You don't say," Sigurd replied with feigned disinterest, taking unexpected pleasure in the way their hips fit together. He had missed this.
"Hmm. All work and no play makes Hervey a dull boy," his partner hummed, working the zipper of Sigurd's jacket down.
"We could be called away on duty," Sigurd murmured, not really objecting, and reached back to run a hand through Hervey's hair.
"So what."
"They could come looking for us," he continued huskily, and didn't miss how Hervey's cock jumped at those words.
"They won't find us here."
Sigurd turned around and pushed him against a stack of crates. "They'll look here first of all," he whispered, reaching for the fastening on Hervey's pants. "Mmm, we'll be quick," Hervey said hopefully, sliding his hands over his ass. "Right?"
Sigurd just nodded against his throat and slid his hand inside, squeezing gently.
"Ah, fuck!" Hervey breathed, throwing his head back at the sensation. "Fuck, I missed this." He pushed his thigh between Sigurd's legs and managed to wedge a hand into the back of Sigurd's pants. "Missed you."
"Yeah."
Together, they got a nice rhythm going, hips rocking together with mutual urgency. Sigurd couldn't quite hold back a moan, and Hervey kissed him hungrily, muffling both their voices.
"Yeah," Hervey whispered when they broke for air. "Nnn, that's it."
The ship's bell resounded shrilly in the tiled room.
Hervey groaned loudly in disappointment. "No. Nonononono!"
Sigurd sighed and rested his forehead against the cool wood of the boxes. "Duty calls."
"Nooo, just ignore it. It'll go away."
"Hervey..."
"You aren't seriously... Hey, wait. What are you doing?! Get back here!"
"Do you want Lazlo to find us like this?"
"If you hurried up, he certainly wouldn't find us like this, if you catch my meaning!" Hervey countered, but Sigurd was already buttoning up his pants and straightening his attire.
"You're cold. Mean. So cruel."
Sigurd smiled. "Come on, Hervey."
Hervey pushed away from the crates and glared. "I hate you, you know that?"
"That's really too bad," Sigurd retorted, "because I kind of like you."
And with that, he slipped out the door, leaving a flabbergasted Hervey behind.
---
FIN
A/N: - Plz to be ignoring the stupid title.
- I like to think that this wasn't out of character.
- Yep, I chickened out of the lemon yet again. I'm getting good at this, no?
- I was in the mood for some less serious stuff, so it turned out like this. My apologies if that is disappointing.
C&C encouraged and appreciated, folks. <3
<< Return to Suikoden IV Index | Return to Fanfiction Index >>
Fandom: Suikoden IV
Pairing: Sigurd/Hervey
Rating: R
Warnings: Snarking, innuendo and pr0n. Read at your own risk.
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing the boys for a while.
High Tide
Cheering rose as the Grishand finally scored a hit against the enemy ship, blowing a large hole in its portside.
Sigurd strained his eyes to see through the cloud of heavy smoke to get a good look at the other ship and survey the damage. The small and more maneuverable smuggler vessel had been leading them on for the better part of an hour, before finally turning and heading straight into battle. Their opponent had been giving as good as he got, and Sigurd couldn't get rid of the impression that even a direct hit would not stop them.
"Captain!" he heard the lookout shout. "They're heading straight for us!"
An unholy red glow pierced the smoke, and Sigurd could just barely make out the ship's silhouette, ablaze and moving towards them at full speed.
Alarmed shouting from the crew, and Lady Kika was barking orders to get ready for boarding. Sigurd found himself automatically looking for Hervey, a habit that had begun to manifest itself the longer he had been working together with the other man. It was a strange feeling, to rely so much on somebody when his own judgment told him to rely only on himself.
It wasn't that he hadn't always been perfectly capable of holding his own in a fight, Sigurd decided, not at all, but he had discovered that it was nice to have Hervey there, to have him watch and do the tricky moves with him. It made him feel...
"Better grab onto something," Hervey called from behind, jogging up to him. "Nasty little buggers don't know when to quit. You ready?"
It was kind of comforting to know that Hervey had come to rely on him as much as he had come to rely on him. He nodded.
"Then let's take 'em!"
Sigurd just smiled into the oncoming firestorm.
---
The camaraderie he found among the pirates was unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome. It was very different from being with the people in Middleport, who had admired him more for his standing than anything else. Here, he was respected because of his skill with a blade and his unwavering loyalty to Lady Kika, and he was approached for different reasons.
Sigurd suspected that even Hervey, for all his insolent behavior, respected him in his own way, because he had seen how Hervey treated people he didn't respect at all. Or at least, he liked to believe that, because Hervey always treated him differently than everyone else, calling him 'prettyboy' and teasing him mercilessly, or telling a dirty joke in the middle of lunch just to see Sigurd choke on his drink, or latching onto him like an octopus and announcing that they were "going to retire now, wink-wink, nudge-nudge."
Sigurd knew that the best way to deal with Hervey's more annoying traits was to stay cool and not to rise to the bait, or, if all else failed and Hervey got touchy-feely, smack him a good one to drive him off.
Actually, smacking Hervey was what he was contemplating right this very second, where they had been having dinner with Lady Kika, but Hervey had decided to abandon his seat in favor of hanging over his shoulder, for reasons that no one but Hervey had figured out, and even that was doubtful.
"C'mon, Sigurd, man. Why do you have to be so stiff all the time? It's no fun!" he said and began rubbing Sigurd's shoulders in a highly suggestive manner. "Unless..." he continued slyly, "That's got to do with something you aren't telling us."
Lady Kika shook her head with a half-amused, half-exasperated snort, and Sigurd just rolled his eyes. It wasn't worth it to say anything.
"Perhaps... you need some help with that, hm?" Hervey asked, grinning like a fiend, and unceremoniously dropped a hand to Sigurd's groin. Sigurd sat bolt upright at that, and hissed through clenched teeth, "You have exactly two seconds to remove your hand from there, Hervey."
Hervey's grin merely widened. "Are you suuu~re? We're talking about exclusive rights to my right hand here," he said in a stage whisper, and squeezed.
Sigurd's punch caught him square in the jaw, and he stumbled back, clutching his chin. Sigurd took at least a little satisfaction from the fact that this would make for a nice bruise come tomorrow.
"Ow," Hervey whined, affecting a wounded look. "You see that, Lady Kika? You see how he treats me?"
Meanwhile, the pirates at the nearby tables had abandoned their conversation in favor of watching the scene.
"And after I offered to help him with his problem!" Hervey complained, making a few unambiguous gestures for his new audience. Sigurd slowly got up from his seat, eyes narrowing. Hervey caught the dangerous look, and lifted his hands in a pacifying gesture, backing away. "Aw, man, you wouldn't hurt your old buddy, right?"
Sigurd simply reached for his throwing knives. Looking completely crushed, Hervey said, "Ah, right. You would. Okay, okay. I can take a hint." And he slunk away between the tables, complete with fake sniffles. For a split second, Sigurd almost felt bad for him, despite knowing that it was all an act.
Kika was watching him like she knew exactly what was going through his mind.
Sigurd sighed. "I know what you're thinking, Lady Kika, but don't say it. Please don't say it."
She smirked and made a lip-zipping gesture, only to be interrupted by Hervey's loud voice. "Hey, Sigurd!" he yelled from across the cave, loud enough for even the last pirate to hear. "You don't know what you're missing! I would've treated you like a princess. Done you nice and slow!"
Sigurd knew that if he wanted to win this one, he should sit back down. Ignore the wolf-whistles and catcalls from the other pirates, and sit down. But all he could see was Hervey leering at him like he knew exactly that Sigurd wasn't going to make him pay.
Screw dignity, Sigurd thought, and gave chase.
---
Hervey had lifted a bottle of some fine rum from their trading stock, because it was a free evening and free evenings were best spent with a good drink, according to him. Sigurd liked the stuff nowhere near as much as Hervey did, and wasn't one for getting drunk, either, but he knew that he could either agree right away, or subject himself to hours of teasing and whining, until he lost his patience and agreed anyway, just to shut him up. Hervey could be decent company when he was not trying to drive Sigurd up a wall, though, and besides, a drunk Hervey always made for excellent blackmail material.
But tonight, Hervey was unusually subdued and didn't look him in the eye when Sigurd tried to make conversation, instead opting to stare into the dancing flames of the campfire. How strange. Sigurd would have liked to know what was wrong, but didn't ask. Hervey would tell him what was bothering him in his own time, of that he was sure.
Finally, Hervey uncorked the bottle and poured an even amount into two metal cups. They raised them in a silent toast, but instead of gulping down the alcohol like he usually did, Hervey lowered the cup into the sand.
"Hey, Sigurd," he said. "There's something I've been meaning to do."
Sigurd would have liked to ask what was wrong, because that was the first time Hervey had ever been so quiet, but then there was a hand in his hair and lips on his, and he was tasting the sugarcane that Hervey had been chewing on all afternoon.
His brain had to have short-circuited, because all he could do was blink stupidly and feel glad that this wasn't another one of Hervey's jokes. He decided to save thinking for later, though, because Hervey's tongue was nudging against his lips, so he opened his mouth, tasting the sugarcane more strongly, heard Hervey moan and felt the hand tighten in his hair.
He wasn't sure how long the kiss lasted, except that they were both out of breath when it finally ended, and that Hervey was sitting there with his eyes still closed.
In the ensuing silence, Hervey cracked one eye open and asked, "What, you're not going to wallop me in the jaw?"
Sigurd blinked, realizing that Hervey was giving him an out here, a chance to act indignant and end this before it went too far, but found that he didn't need that. He smiled mischievously. "This hardly warrants a punch. I've had better back in the day."
Hervey just stared at him, embarrassment and a little bit of anger burning on his cheeks. "E-excuse me?!"
He smirked. "On a scale from one to ten, I'd give it a five. Hardly worth the effort."
Hervey made a strangled noise. "I- I- Why you... I'll show you and your scale!" he yelled and pounced.
His rum went flying, the cup clattering against some rocks as Sigurd was pushed onto his back in the sand, but he found that he didn't mind. The taste of sugarcane was much more interesting.
---
Sigurd wasn't quite sure how he had expected their relationship to change, if at all. A little less teasing would have been nice, but Hervey had a habit of doing exactly the opposite of what Sigurd wanted, and Sigurd's consent had apparently been taken as permission to take the innuendo and flirting to a whole new level.
However, Sigurd had been quick to discover that nothing could turn Hervey into a landed fish as thoroughly as actually flirting back. Lady Kika had certainly been laughing a lot more since he had taken up on beating Hervey at his own game, so Sigurd supposed things were good.
It had grown difficult to do more than flirting, though, since they had allied themselves with Lazlo and his crew, so Sigurd couldn't say that he was surprised to be grabbed on his way to the third deck, and dragged into an unoccupied storage room hardly the size of a broom closet.
"Got you," Hervey murmured, embracing him from behind and nuzzling his ear.
"You don't say," Sigurd replied with feigned disinterest, taking unexpected pleasure in the way their hips fit together. He had missed this.
"Hmm. All work and no play makes Hervey a dull boy," his partner hummed, working the zipper of Sigurd's jacket down.
"We could be called away on duty," Sigurd murmured, not really objecting, and reached back to run a hand through Hervey's hair.
"So what."
"They could come looking for us," he continued huskily, and didn't miss how Hervey's cock jumped at those words.
"They won't find us here."
Sigurd turned around and pushed him against a stack of crates. "They'll look here first of all," he whispered, reaching for the fastening on Hervey's pants. "Mmm, we'll be quick," Hervey said hopefully, sliding his hands over his ass. "Right?"
Sigurd just nodded against his throat and slid his hand inside, squeezing gently.
"Ah, fuck!" Hervey breathed, throwing his head back at the sensation. "Fuck, I missed this." He pushed his thigh between Sigurd's legs and managed to wedge a hand into the back of Sigurd's pants. "Missed you."
"Yeah."
Together, they got a nice rhythm going, hips rocking together with mutual urgency. Sigurd couldn't quite hold back a moan, and Hervey kissed him hungrily, muffling both their voices.
"Yeah," Hervey whispered when they broke for air. "Nnn, that's it."
The ship's bell resounded shrilly in the tiled room.
Hervey groaned loudly in disappointment. "No. Nonononono!"
Sigurd sighed and rested his forehead against the cool wood of the boxes. "Duty calls."
"Nooo, just ignore it. It'll go away."
"Hervey..."
"You aren't seriously... Hey, wait. What are you doing?! Get back here!"
"Do you want Lazlo to find us like this?"
"If you hurried up, he certainly wouldn't find us like this, if you catch my meaning!" Hervey countered, but Sigurd was already buttoning up his pants and straightening his attire.
"You're cold. Mean. So cruel."
Sigurd smiled. "Come on, Hervey."
Hervey pushed away from the crates and glared. "I hate you, you know that?"
"That's really too bad," Sigurd retorted, "because I kind of like you."
And with that, he slipped out the door, leaving a flabbergasted Hervey behind.
---
FIN
A/N: - Plz to be ignoring the stupid title.
- I like to think that this wasn't out of character.
- Yep, I chickened out of the lemon yet again. I'm getting good at this, no?
- I was in the mood for some less serious stuff, so it turned out like this. My apologies if that is disappointing.
C&C encouraged and appreciated, folks. <3
<< Return to Suikoden IV Index | Return to Fanfiction Index >>