Fic: Fire & Ice
Title: Fire and Ice
Fandom: Final Fantasy X
Characters: Auron X Jecht
For: 7Snogs
Theme: 6. Argument
Word Count: 374
Warnings: Yaoi
They’re arguing again.
Jecht’s drunk and rambling on and on while Auron is blocking him out with all the patience he can muster. Braska has given up; he’s rented a separate room from his guardians in an attempt to get some sleep.
Jecht is poised, defiant on the double bed in their room with a half emptied whisky bottle in his hand, screaming. Auron is by the door, arms folded tightly across his chest facing away from the scruffy Blitzer.
This only aids to infuriate Jecht further as his dramatic motions are shunned by an almost icy reception.
Auron flinches as the bottle shatters on impact with the wall, barely inches from his shoulder. He turns on his heel to face him and bites down on his lip forcing back the reaction Jecht has become so anxious for.
But Jecht knows the buttons; he knows how to crawl under Aurons’ skin in a way singly unique to himself. He’s brash, loud and everything Auron isn’t. But tonight Auron isn’t playing his game; tonight he’s not screaming blue murder back at him. He’s just standing there, corking the rage, raising his eyebrow as if to ask `is that all you’ve got?` And it’s making Jecht as mad as hell.
Auron doesn’t understand that Jecht needs this. A small feeling that he can still have some power, some slim hold on his life while the world turns to hell around him.
Right now he desperately needs it.
Auron watches as Jecht half falls, half stumbles from the bed and in two angry strides closes the space between them. Jechts’ fingers enclose on his collar and pull hard forcing Auron up on his toes.
Jecht kisses him.
He’s firm and rough as his lips bruise over Aurons, possessive and hot; Jechts’ mouth claiming him with an almost primal intensity.
Jecht tastes of every battle they’ve ever waged; of alcohol, dirt, sweat and survival.
He releases Aurons collar and pulls back levelling his gaze to those confused brown eyes staring back at him.
A second passes, then another.
Then Auron breaks. A red flush creeps into his cheeks as he shouts obscenities, cursing the older man with every ounce of his fury.
Jecht crosses his arms in triumph.
Fandom: Final Fantasy X
Characters: Auron X Jecht
For: 7Snogs
Theme: 6. Argument
Word Count: 374
Warnings: Yaoi
They’re arguing again.
Jecht’s drunk and rambling on and on while Auron is blocking him out with all the patience he can muster. Braska has given up; he’s rented a separate room from his guardians in an attempt to get some sleep.
Jecht is poised, defiant on the double bed in their room with a half emptied whisky bottle in his hand, screaming. Auron is by the door, arms folded tightly across his chest facing away from the scruffy Blitzer.
This only aids to infuriate Jecht further as his dramatic motions are shunned by an almost icy reception.
Auron flinches as the bottle shatters on impact with the wall, barely inches from his shoulder. He turns on his heel to face him and bites down on his lip forcing back the reaction Jecht has become so anxious for.
But Jecht knows the buttons; he knows how to crawl under Aurons’ skin in a way singly unique to himself. He’s brash, loud and everything Auron isn’t. But tonight Auron isn’t playing his game; tonight he’s not screaming blue murder back at him. He’s just standing there, corking the rage, raising his eyebrow as if to ask `is that all you’ve got?` And it’s making Jecht as mad as hell.
Auron doesn’t understand that Jecht needs this. A small feeling that he can still have some power, some slim hold on his life while the world turns to hell around him.
Right now he desperately needs it.
Auron watches as Jecht half falls, half stumbles from the bed and in two angry strides closes the space between them. Jechts’ fingers enclose on his collar and pull hard forcing Auron up on his toes.
Jecht kisses him.
He’s firm and rough as his lips bruise over Aurons, possessive and hot; Jechts’ mouth claiming him with an almost primal intensity.
Jecht tastes of every battle they’ve ever waged; of alcohol, dirt, sweat and survival.
He releases Aurons collar and pulls back levelling his gaze to those confused brown eyes staring back at him.
A second passes, then another.
Then Auron breaks. A red flush creeps into his cheeks as he shouts obscenities, cursing the older man with every ounce of his fury.
Jecht crosses his arms in triumph.