Lucky Colors
Summary: When Zidane is less-than-enthusiastic about Valentine's Day, he discovers that the holiday is so much more than mush and sap. Blaming himself for a near-fatal accident involving Blank, Zidane is willing to do anything to make up for it, even acknowledge the dreaded holiday. Blank/Zidane Lime.
Author’s notes: A late Blank/Zidane V-Day fic!
And now, Sakai Michiba presents:
Lucky Colors
The thirteen year-old Zidane sat happily in Michael’s chair, watching the painter at work. Michael never scolded him for coming to watch-no, Michael liked to paint Zidane in many different poses if he could get the rambunctious child to hold still long enough, and when Zidane was given food or a puzzling toy, he would sit for hours. “Whatcha painting today, Michael?” Zidane chirped as he bounced around in the chair, waiting for the other to notice that he was, in fact there and had been for the past ten minutes or so.
Michael gave a slight start then turned around to smile sweetly at the boy. “Where did you come from?” When he was rewarded only with a precocious grin, he smiled and shook his head, moving to the side so Zidane could view the piece of art he had been so diligently working on.
Zidane’s eyes widened in shock and embarrassment as he lay eyes on two lovers, locked in a passionate embrace and drinking one another’s breath in a bed bedecked in red and white. “O-oh...I-I...um, wh-who’s it for?” Zidane tried his best to hide his embarrassment. As a member of an acting troupe, he knew what sex was and had even walked in on it a few times, but he was too young to start skirt-flipping yet, and so the painting was still embarrassing to him.
Michael smiled and moved back in front of the painting to begin working on it again, speaking as he blended his colors to make a light brown. “This is a piece commissioned by the King family in Treno. They always commission a Valentine’s Day piece every year, and this year I was the chosen artist. Is it to your liking, Zidane?” He smiled, knowing the sort of answer he would get.
“Psh, I don’t understand that love stuff, Michael. Valentine’s Day don’t mean nothin’! I don’t even get chocolate from Ruby or anybody anymore. I hate it. People are walking around holdin’ on to each other and making gushy eyes.” Zidane made a face and swished his tail in distaste as Michael laughed out loud at him.
“You’ll understand it one day, Zidane, when you find someone worth your time...”
“Nuh-uh. Tantalus comes first and only!” He thumped his chest and scowled again as Michael laughed at him. “Fine. You work on your stupid sex painting, Michael. I have better things to do than be in love.”
Michael turned around to say something, but all the saw was a flash of the end of Zidane’s tail as he scampered out of the studio. “Someday,” he laughed, and he turned around to add more detail to the picture.
Zidane grabbed his arms as he took off running toward the Tantalus hideout beneath the clock. He was shocked when he got there to find that there were around fifty girls lined up outside, all talking excitedly, and he pushed through the crowd of them to get inside. “What’s goin’ on?!” he demanded, his senses offended by the smell of all the girls. He saw Baku and Marcus at the front behind a makeshift desk, handing out necklaces and earrings in different color gems in exchange for often copious amounts of Gil. Just as he was going to storm up to them, he felt his tail snatched and jerked backward, and he flipped around, protesting as a tingly feeling shot through his entire body. “What didja do THAT for?!” he demanded in a whiny voice, watching grudgingly as Blank laughed at him.
“Don’t interfere in the business, kid. Valentine’s Day is coming up, so girls are going mad buying their lucky color to ensure that their love lives last. At least, that’s what we tell ‘em.” He smiled, his blue eyes shining as he reached out a pale, smooth hand to pet Zidane’s hair. “Those two are gonna run the place for a while. Why don’t the two of us go for a walk, hm? We can catch up.”
Zidane scowled at him for a moment before he smiled, ready to get out of the place full of squealing and giggling girls. He grabbed Blank’s wrist and hauled him outside, taking a deep breath of air. “That’s better,” he sighed, and he grinned up at Blank, stretching his arms behind his head as he looked at Blank.
Blank was rather short for his age, seventeen, but very handsome in the eyes of the girls. He had beautiful red hair that flopped over his blue eyes and a lean build, his skin smooth and evenly toned. Zidane admired him for his looks and his charm, wishing that he could wiggle his way out of trouble like Blank always could. Blank caught him staring, and he made a face at him. “What?”
Zidane felt a blush rise to his cheeks, and he shook his head. “I’m glad I’m not you, Blank, the way the girls hang all over you. I don’t know how you can stand the way they smell!” he exclaimed, grinning as Blank gave a pleased laugh.
“Yes, well, I guess I’m just popular with the ladies. What about you, Zidane? I saw one of the girls eyeing you with some evil, girlish intention in mind. Are you gonna get someone for Valentine’s Day? It’s next week, so you had better hurry...” He watched as Zidane gave him a horrified look, and he laughed again.
“No way am I finding some skirt to spend the day with. I’d rather go pick some pockets. Surely you...don’t have a date for Valentine’s?” He had not considered that Blank might be busy that night, and when the redhead automatically got a regretful look on his face, Zidane knew that he was in for a night alone. “Aw, hell, Blank! What am I supposed to do?!”
Blank sighed and stopped, looking the thirteen year-old in the eyes. “I have a date that night, Zidane...I’m sorry. Maybe Marcus or Cinna will go with you. You’ll still have fun with them, right?”
“No! You’re my best friend!” He sniffed a bit and looked away, embarrassed and upset. He had been planning raiding the pockets of the onlookers of the Valentine’s Day after-dark parade that made its way through the Business District with Blank’s help, but now his plans were shot. “Besides, they aren’t as good as you! We’re a team, Blank!”
Blank was starting to feel bad now, but he shook his head. “Sorry, Zidane...I just can’t, okay? I’ll make it up to you...I promise! And you know that thieves never promise unless they really, really mean it.”
Zidane huffed at him and shook his head, turning away. “Forget it. I’m not walking with you!” And before Blank could protest, Zidane had climbed a gutter and started hopping rooftops. With a roll of his eyes, he started toward the gate that led outside, shaking his head.
He really wished that Zidane could understand. The boy was always so sweet and rarely asked for anything, and so Blank wondered if he should really go out with the girl from the Industrial District or dump her and go to the parade with Zidane. Stepping outside the castle walls, he started toward Pinnacle Rocks, needing to find something to give the girl for the lovers’ holiday.
As he stepped into the pool of water, he saw thousands of shimmering blue stones, and he sighed, remembering the way Zidane’s blue eyes had shimmered in a similar fashion just before he had run off. Blank knew that he had seen tears there, and he sighed, bending over to dip his hand into the water. Drawing up several blue stones, he shoved them in his pouch then froze as he heard a low growling behind him.
“...Oh fuck...”
When Zidane wandered into the Tantalus hideout again, he found that the crowd had diminished quite a bit. Baku looked at him oddly before he clapped him hard on the shoulder, sending the boy crumpling to the ground.
“GWAHAHAHA! Where’s Blank, kid?!” Baku roared, watching as Zidane struggled to get up. When he saw Zidane’s nonchalant shrug, he narrowed his eyes. “...When did you last see him? Did you two have a fallin’ out or somethin’?”
Zidane scowled at Baku and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Last time I saw ‘im,” he grumbled, “he was heading out toward Pinnacle Rocks for somethin’. He wanted me to go with him, but I...changed my mind.”
“WHAT?! You left your troupe member BY HIMSELF to go to Pinnacle Rocks?! Do you have ANY idea how dangerous it is to go alone?! Oh hell...Marcus! Cinna! Move out!” he barked. Zidane’s eyes widened, and for the first time in a while, he felt true fear. It was a Tantalus rule to never go outside the city unaccompanied because of the Mist monsters, but he had not really thought about it, since no one ever went outside.
Blank did not move even as he felt a long, sharp tusk press against his lower back. He recognized the grunt of a Zaghnol, and he swallowed hard, trembling in terror. This was how people died, and there was absolutely no one out there to come to his rescue. When the tusk disappeared from his spine, he felt a few of his nerves release their tensity, only lasting for a few seconds before he felt blinding pain, an agonized scream escaping his throat as that long, black tusk pierced though his skin and he was tossed into the air.
He choked as he hit the ground again, feeling blood draining from his tusk wounds, then the hooves came down, tearing and pawing at him. The last thing he saw before one of the tusks knocked him out was the image of blue jewels flying everywhere, and then there was nothing but sweet, painless sleep.
Zidane had been so ashamed as he ran after his troupe-mates and his boss, listening to them yelling in turn at him as they dashed out through the castle gate. They were running across the grass, and perhaps fifteen minutes later, Zidane heard their talking stop completely. Shocked out of his thinking, he looked up to see what they saw.
It was a Zaghnol, roaring in pleasure as it dug at something red. Zidane thought it to be a friendly Mu at first, but he saw a humanesque hand and brought his own up to his mouth. The reaction was instantaneous for Baku, Marcus, and Cinna-they rushed forward, hacking at the beast and fighting it off what was surely Blank. Zidane did not have the strength to fight the beast-he merely began the slow, heart-pounding march over to where a bloody heap lay, only slightly moving.
“...B-Blank? Wh-what’re you doing?” he whispered as he dropped to his knees beside the bloody heap that was his best friend. “W-wake up, Blank...w-we g-g-gotta get all this b-blood off your face...” He reached down to try to wipe some of the blood away, almost gagging as he did not come in contact with skin but muscle, his hand coming up bloody.
“Blank?” he whispered frantically, having nowhere to grab onto on his best friend that wasn’t shredded. “Blank...w-wake up...” He heard the final roar of the animal in the background, though it sounded very distant to him, and he felt hands trying to pull him away from Blank. “NO!” he yelled, struggling to get back to his bloody and nearly-dead best friend. “I WON’T LET GO OF HIM!”
He screeched and cried as he was pulled into Marcus’ strong arms and held tightly so that he could not effectively struggle. He could see Blank’s blood all over him, and he sobbed, reaching out as best he could for Blank, who had been lifted into Baku’s arms. Zidane was sure that he had never seen Baku move so quickly, and before he passed out from shock, he saw Blank’s hand twitch.
When Zidane woke up again, he found, to his shock, that he was in the castle recovery room. The room appeared to be completely empty at first, but he heard voices in the hallway-one was distinctly Baku’s, the other a regal, hardy tone. Silently, he crawled from bed, his eyes widening as he saw the one bed that was surrounded by white curtains.
Everything suddenly came back to him, and he clapped a hand over his mouth, feeling sick. Making sure that Baku did not sound as though he was about to come back into the hospital room, he crept over to the white curtains, butterflies in his stomach as he took a gentle grip on the hem. He was nervous-what if he opened it to find Blank under a burial shroud? Tears pricked his eyes, and he suddenly ripped the curtains back, needing to see that his friend was not dead.
What he saw when he jerked back the covers made his stomach lurch in disgust, but he forced himself to look. The once perfect, unscarred Blank was covered in patches of too-dark skin, black stitches running crisscrossed all over his body serving to outline each patch. Blank was breathing he saw, but he was severely bruised on his natural flesh, lips cut and dark with blood. “Oh, Blank...” he whispered, and he moved closer to the bed.
Guilt surged within him, and he dropped to his knees beside the bed, his hand clutching an exposed section of Blank’s natural flesh. “This is all my f-fault....oh m-my g-g-god...” He gave a start as he felt a large hand on his shoulder, but he said nothing as Baku knelt down beside him and drew him into an embrace.
“Naw, Zidane...He shouldn’ta gone out by himself...He’s gonna be fine...The Regent helped us...” Baku’s voice was soothing to Zidane, and the boy calmed down before he was led from the castle and ordered to go rest at the hideout.
When he got there, the place was empty. With a whimper, he climbed into his own bed and cried himself back to sleep, trying to figure out what he could do to make it up to Blank.
In the middle of the night, he shot up out of sleep with an idea, hauling himself out of bed immediately and running downstairs. He knew exactly was he was going to do for Blank, and he began to dig through the storage room. Finding the box of jewels that the troupe had been selling, he picked out two pretty blue ones, making sure that their pendants matched exactly, and he ran out of the hideout with them in hand.
When he arrived at the castle, he convinced the elevator attendant, who recognized him from earlier that day, to let him ride up to the hospital ward. When he got out, he heard voices, and he snuck to the sickroom, peering around the doorframe.
Blank was sitting up in bed, screaming and clutching his face, jerking away from every touch bestowed to him by both Baku and the nurse. “DON’T TOUCH ME! Don’t FUCKING touch me!” He sounded as though he were in utter agony, and when Baku and the nurse gave up and went to see the regent, Zidane crept into the hospital room and went to the bedside.
“Blank?” he whispered softly, the tears evident in his voice. To his shock, Blank did not scream for him to go away, and so he reached out tentatively to take one of Blank’s hands and pull it away from his face. “...Blank, don’t yell,” he pleaded softly, waiting to be screamed at for the gentle grip on that hand.
Blank seemed to have frozen for a long time, then he shook his head and broke down, his sobs violent and heavy with tears. With a swallow, Zidane crawled delicately onto the bed beside him and took his other hand, drawing it down from his face. “Blank, look at me...” he whispered, and when the other shook his head, Zidane sighed and waved his tail a little. “...Why won’t you look at me?”
“I c-can’t,” Blank whispered. Zidane was very confused, but when Blank turned his head toward him and opened his eyes, the blonde was taken aback, and he bit his lower lip. Blank’s eyes had no whites-blood had been brought to the surface. The irises and pupils looked odd, as if Blank saw nothing at all, and in a moment of shock, Zidane realized that that was precisely the case. Blank must have heard the shock in Zidane’s breathing, for he looked away sharply and brought his hands away from Zidane’s and back up to his face. “I’m...so hideous...”
Zidane shook his head, then realized that Blank could not see that, and so he made a soft, negative sound. “No...No, Blank, you’re not hideous...Not at all. You couldn’t ever be ugly...even if you fell out of an airship and splattered on the street...” Reaching up, he took one of Blank’s hands, bringing it to his own chest delicately. He looked at the play of stitches between light and dark flesh, and he sniffled a little before he drew the hand to his lips. “You’re scared Blank...I’m scared, too...but...I promise...I’ll make it up to you.”
Blank’s blind eyes blinked, and he shook his head. “It isn’t your fault,” he whispered flatly. “I was always warned never to go outside by myself...I’m just stupid for not listening...” The more he spoke, the more tired he sounded, and Zidane helped him lie back down comfortably. “Thanks...Zidane? Could you tell Amanda to pay me a visit?”
Zidane’s heart started to pound in his chest, and he felt a little angry at this request, though he did not know why. “Yeah, I’ll tell her.” He felt the necklaces in his pocket, but he could not find the right words for the presentation. Instead, he just leaned over Blank and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I...will be back, okay?” he asked, but he got no reply. Blank was already asleep.
The next day, Zidane found Amanda in the bar, drinking a glass of water. Going up to her, albeit reluctantly, he deliver Blank’s message. When the girl heard the news, she gave a great gasp and ran out of the tavern, headed for the castle. Zidane gave chase, not having warned her about Blank’s altered appearance, but he could not seem to catch the frantic girl.
By the time he got to the hospital room, he heard the girl shriek before he was nearly run over by her as she ran out of the room quickly, looking disgusted. With a feeling of dread, Zidane moved into the sickroom to find Blank lying there, his expression dead and tears mingled with blood trickling down his face. Walking quietly over to him, he sat down on the bedside and reached out to catch one of those tears.
There was nothing at all to say.
By Valentine’s Day Eve, Blank had attempted suicide twice, having found a scalpel on the bedside left by the negligent attendant, tried clawing his eyes out, torn a few stitches, and tried to escape. The nurses had strapped him to the bed, rendering him unable to do any harm to himself, and when Zidane came in late that evening, he sighed. “...Hey, Blank...”
He did not get a response, and so he walked over to run a finger over Blank’s natural cheek. “Are you awake?” It was asked in whisper, and when he got a light nod in reply, he sighed and watched as Blank weakly tugged at his bindings. Making sure that no one was around, Zidane unbuckled the straps and got up to retrieve a blanket for his shivering friend. “There,” he whispered as he lay it over Blank’s body, and he frowned a bit as Blank burst into noisy tears.
“Wh-what d-d-did I d-do to deserve th-this?” he whispered frantically, his hands clapping to his face and tears seeping from between his fingers. The blonde boy bit his lower lip and touched what he assumed to be Blank’s thigh under the blanket.
“Nothing,” he said quietly, large blue eyes watching his friend in pain. “You didn’t do anything...it...should be me where you are, Blank.” He smiled softly as Blank’s arms wrapped around him softly, and he hugged him as gently as possible in return. “I wish it was me, Blank...I wish it was me so bad...”
Zidane felt tears on his shoulder, and he gently rubbed Blank’s side, careful not to touch a graft or the stitching in case it should hurt the other. Blank melted against him, and Zidane used his tail to completely close the curtains that he had pushed aside to come inside as he began to pet Blank’s hair. “Amanda...she th-thought I was hideous, didn’t she?” Blank asked quietly as he was petted like a kitten.
“She’s stupid,” Zidane whispered, and he felt an odd fluttering in his stomach as he heard the bell in the Theatre District chime midnight. “She’s so stupid, Blank...I think you’re beautiful.” He felt his cheeks color, but he did not take his words back. Blank’s body molded to his, and he pressed his hand gently to the small of Blank’s back as he wondered then what it would be like to kiss Blank.
In reality, Zidane had never kissed anyone, so the thought of kissing Blank was very odd to him. He had heard about kisses before, that was for sure, and he had heard from the various girls in Lindblum that Blank was a wonderful kisser, but he himself had never experienced one from anybody. He had always imagined that kisses were very gross and disgusting, and that boys did it to make girls go away, but they never did. Maybe girls LIKED gross stuff. Zidane pushed that thought from his mind-it would have ruined his perspective on women, and he didn’t want THAT happening.
But Blank was there against him, his breathing labored and his cheeks soaked with tears, and Zidane felt an odd warmth in his stomach as he felt Blank’s large hands clutching at his hips. His lips gave a tremble, and he moved one hand to tilt Blank’s chin upward, nervously wetting his lips with his tongue before he pressed them to those of his oldest friend.
Blank went rigid for a moment before Zidane felt him relax completely, his lips moving a bit against the blonde’s. This made that warmth in Zidane’s stomach intensify, and he closed his eyes tightly as he rubbed his lips against Blank’s in return. His heart was pounding hard inside his chest, and he knew Blank could feel it, but he was not as embarrassed as he thought he might be, and as they kissed like this, both hands rested in Blank’s hair, holding him as tightly as possible without pain to his lips.
When he could not think for not being able to breathe, Zidane parted the kiss, his blue eyes opening a little and his breath coming in nervous pants. “S-sorry,” he whispered lamely, feeling stupid for not having anything more eloquent to say. His hands were, he noticed, quivering madly and unwilling to stop even as Blank took his hands and rubbed the knuckles with his thumbs.
“It’s okay,” Blank claimed, and he pressed his natural cheek to Zidane’s. “That...was your first kiss, wasn’t it?” Zidane noted how nervous and proud Blank sounded at this, and he gave a soft nod since Blank could feel it. “It was...? Then...why did you give it to me? There are loads of pretty girls and boys who would jump at the chance to be your first anything...”
Zidane snorted and swished his tail a little, the end flicking. “They might be pretty,” he said as he looked away shyly, “but none of them is as pretty as you. Besides!” He had been sappy, and so now was the time to redeem himself as a man. “I don’t want to kiss a girl! That’s gross.”
Blank, for the first time in a week, smiled, and Zidane felt so wonderful for making it happen. Hoping that it might again, the blonde turned his head and pressed their lips together again, his eyes sliding closed in the dark as he felt Blank’s lips draw his bottom one between them and suckle softly. “Nnn...!” Zidane had never felt anything like this before, and he clung onto Blank wherever he could lay his hands. His tail was thumping the mattress insistently, and when Blank’s mouth opened over his and a warm, wet tongue slid between his lips, Zidane’s tail coiled up and grew still. The boy was amazed at this new development-he did not think that people actually put their tongues in other people’s mouths! He almost thought it was gross, then Blank’s tongue was gently rubbing his own, and all such thoughts were forgotten.
When the kiss ended that time, the break only lasted perhaps two seconds, long enough to get a deep breath, before they were kissing again. As their tongues wrestled and comforted one another, Zidane found that he was very, very warm and his pants had become somewhat uncomfortable. He could feel Blank’s hand on his thigh, his knee against his, every movement that the other made, and he found that this was very addicting. A soft moan escaped him, and as Blank’s hand slid higher, Zidane discovered that he wanted nothing more than for the other to put that hand between his legs. Blank, however, moved his hand to Zidane’s stomach, sliding beneath his shirt to feel his warm flesh.
When Blank broke that kiss to trail some down to Zidane’s neck, the Genome whimpered and arched arched into him, suddenly aware of how very naked Blank was. He could see that the blanket draped over Blank’s hips had acquired a strange shape, and he bit his lower lip as his pulse point was teased with a tongue. “Nn...Blank...” He slid one hand back into Blank’s hair, holding him against his neck as the skin of his neck was worried between teeth and lips. He wondered what would happen if he touched Blank between his legs, and he moved his hand from atop that thigh to the prominent lump in the hospital blanket, feeling the strong pressure of Blank’s body against his hand.
“Wh-what’re you doing?” Blank asked softly against that neck, making Zidane squirm. As Zidane’s hand gave a little squeeze and pleasure coursed through Blank’s body, the patched boy whispered an, “Oooh...” before he grabbed Zidane’s hand and moved it beneath the blanket.
The blonde boy gasped as he felt the heat that Blank’s arousal gave off, but he wrapped his hand around it and stroked it nervously, listening to the sounds of pleasure that his best friend made. He had never really done this before-well, once, but he didn’t understand what he was doing and had made many painful mistakes-and was definitely not sure how to handle someone else’s. He felt Blank’s hands at the top of his jeans, and he lifted his hips a little as the other drew them down around his thighs. “Don’t be scared,” Blank whispered, and a moment later, his large hand was wrapped around Zidane’s not-so-impressive erection and moving in such a way that Zidane’s hips bucked upward in delight. “You like that?”
“U-uh-huh,” Zidane affirmed shakily, swallowing hard and doing his best to continue fondling Blank as he was touched in such a way. He felt Blank rub his thumb over the very top, which made his body sing in pleasure, raising to meet that hand, and he mimicked the movement, listening to Blank’s breath hitch and a low, shuddering groan escape him. Blank’s other hand caught Zidane’s and took it away for the moment, and Zidane understood. He was to feel what to do before he tried it.
Blank’s lips were still attached to Zidane’s neck as he began to massage and stroke Zidane’s not-fully-grown cock, listening to the sounds he made and feeling the way his body responded to each ministration. He bit down on the pulse point, not caring who heard as Zidane yelled his name and struggled to get closer. “Calm down, calm down,” the redhead whispered, and he moved to crush their lips together.
Zidane had never felt such a medley of pleasure before, and it was making him squirm. He felt something inside of him needing out desperately, and as they kissed frantically, he made more and more sounds against those lips before his body seized up and he felt liquid spill out from the end of his arousal. It made him cry, the feeling did, and he sobbed Blank’s name in ecstasy against the kiss. Blank’s hand stilled then disappeared from between his legs altogether, finding Zidane’s hand and taking it.
Zidane almost made a sound of disgust as that wet, slimy hand took his, but he decided that it was not that bad, and Blank was guiding his hand beneath the blankets again. “Are you okay with this?” Blank asked quietly as he used Zidane’s ejaculate to cover that smaller hand so it would move easier along his shaft.
“Yeah...” Zidane whispered, feeling the powerful length in his palm as Blank moved his hand for him, guiding him in his strokes and his finger movements. “You’re a lot bigger than me...”
“I’m older,” Blank whispered, and he arched his hips up into the smaller hand. “You’ll get bigger, too, and it’ll feel better when you get...older...Mmm...” Zidane looked into Blank’s face, watching his lips part and take in a sharp breath. He sealed off that breath by pressing their lips together, and he sped up the movements of his hand. Blank was making unintelligible sounds against the kiss, his breath ragged, and Zidane wondered how it felt for him.
Blank broke off the kiss and buried his face in Zidane’s shoulder, both hands coming up to cling to him as his hips spasmed out of his control. Zidane could feel tears dripping onto his skin, and he began to stop, his hand slowing. “Am I hurting you?” he asked nervously, but Blank shook his head fiercely and whimpered.
“Don’t you dare stop, Zidane,” he said in a breath, moaning as that hand started again. He was ashamed of his tears, but they could not be helped. Zidane was so innocent and sweet; Blank knew that he was very lucky to be in this position. In a few years, surely Zidane would be doing this to every pretty boy in Lindblum. A cry escaped Blank’s lips and he bit onto Zidane’s neck to hold down a yell as he felt his erection give a twitch then release into the younger boy’s hand.
When Blank stilled, Zidane brought his hand back and looked at it, covered in a thick, white fluid. He gave a start as Blank moved that hand up, and Zidane looked at it a moment before he tentatively licked it. The taste made him lick his lips-it was not a bad taste, really, just very different. He ended up licking most of it off, only stopping because Blank reached up and drew him in for a long, gentle kiss.
“You’re so wonderful, Zidane...No one else would come in to see me. At least you didn’t forget about me...” Blank sounded very sad, and Zidane wrapped his arms awkwardly around the other.
“I could never forget about you, Blank...Never...” The blonde smiled a little and moved to pull that blanket over the both of them. “Can I stay in here with you tonight, Blank? I don’t wanna leave you by yourself...since it’s Valentine’s Day and all...” He found that his hands had a mind of their own and were running over Blank’s body, cautiously feeling the grafts and the stitches. “...Does this hurt?”
Blank grinned at the suggestion and pulled another blanket on top of them. “I want you to stay with me tonight...and tomorrow night, too, and the next.” Those warm hands traversing his body made him sigh in content, and he shook his head at the question. “No, it doesn’t hurt. The wounds are pretty much healed on the outside...they poured a bunch of Potion into the stitches, so they healed almost instantly...” He caught one of Zidane’s hands and brought it to his face, letting him trace the stitches there. “...Is it bad?”
Zidane felt tears rise to his eyes at that question, and he shook his head. “No...It’s not bad, Blank. I think it’s perfect...” He had never thought he would be sitting with Blank, spouting girly sap, but his friend needed it, and it only helped that he meant every word. His thoughts drifted to the necklaces, and he slipped one over Blank’s head.
“What’s this?” Blank asked, reaching down and taking the jewel pendant in his hand.
Zidane blushed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck before he put on his necklace as well. “I took our fortune, Blank,” he said quietly, and the grin that spread over the other’s face made Zidane a little braver as he explained. “It said that our lucky color was blue...and that we’d be together forever.”
Blank moved closer to the younger boy and caught his lips in a kiss, his hands resting on Zidane’s back. The younger boy kissed back eagerly, and when the kiss was over, he grinned sheepishly at Blank. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Blank...I know what it means now...”
The patched boy cocked his head to the side a bit before he smiled. “...Happy Valentine’s to you, too...and...what does it mean?”
“Valentine’s means that...that nobody’s more important than the person you wanna be with...and sometimes, you gotta show them...” He was blushing furiously again, but Blank reached up and rubbed a finger over his lips.
“That’s exactly what it means...” he said quietly, and he moved his hand behind Zidane’s neck to pull him close again. “So why don’t you show me again?”
~Owari~
Author’s note: Come on, peanut gallery; collective mushy sighs...Awwwww...So damned cute. It’s a little late for a Valentine’s fic, but at least I wrote it!
Author’s notes: A late Blank/Zidane V-Day fic!
And now, Sakai Michiba presents:
Lucky Colors
The thirteen year-old Zidane sat happily in Michael’s chair, watching the painter at work. Michael never scolded him for coming to watch-no, Michael liked to paint Zidane in many different poses if he could get the rambunctious child to hold still long enough, and when Zidane was given food or a puzzling toy, he would sit for hours. “Whatcha painting today, Michael?” Zidane chirped as he bounced around in the chair, waiting for the other to notice that he was, in fact there and had been for the past ten minutes or so.
Michael gave a slight start then turned around to smile sweetly at the boy. “Where did you come from?” When he was rewarded only with a precocious grin, he smiled and shook his head, moving to the side so Zidane could view the piece of art he had been so diligently working on.
Zidane’s eyes widened in shock and embarrassment as he lay eyes on two lovers, locked in a passionate embrace and drinking one another’s breath in a bed bedecked in red and white. “O-oh...I-I...um, wh-who’s it for?” Zidane tried his best to hide his embarrassment. As a member of an acting troupe, he knew what sex was and had even walked in on it a few times, but he was too young to start skirt-flipping yet, and so the painting was still embarrassing to him.
Michael smiled and moved back in front of the painting to begin working on it again, speaking as he blended his colors to make a light brown. “This is a piece commissioned by the King family in Treno. They always commission a Valentine’s Day piece every year, and this year I was the chosen artist. Is it to your liking, Zidane?” He smiled, knowing the sort of answer he would get.
“Psh, I don’t understand that love stuff, Michael. Valentine’s Day don’t mean nothin’! I don’t even get chocolate from Ruby or anybody anymore. I hate it. People are walking around holdin’ on to each other and making gushy eyes.” Zidane made a face and swished his tail in distaste as Michael laughed out loud at him.
“You’ll understand it one day, Zidane, when you find someone worth your time...”
“Nuh-uh. Tantalus comes first and only!” He thumped his chest and scowled again as Michael laughed at him. “Fine. You work on your stupid sex painting, Michael. I have better things to do than be in love.”
Michael turned around to say something, but all the saw was a flash of the end of Zidane’s tail as he scampered out of the studio. “Someday,” he laughed, and he turned around to add more detail to the picture.
Zidane grabbed his arms as he took off running toward the Tantalus hideout beneath the clock. He was shocked when he got there to find that there were around fifty girls lined up outside, all talking excitedly, and he pushed through the crowd of them to get inside. “What’s goin’ on?!” he demanded, his senses offended by the smell of all the girls. He saw Baku and Marcus at the front behind a makeshift desk, handing out necklaces and earrings in different color gems in exchange for often copious amounts of Gil. Just as he was going to storm up to them, he felt his tail snatched and jerked backward, and he flipped around, protesting as a tingly feeling shot through his entire body. “What didja do THAT for?!” he demanded in a whiny voice, watching grudgingly as Blank laughed at him.
“Don’t interfere in the business, kid. Valentine’s Day is coming up, so girls are going mad buying their lucky color to ensure that their love lives last. At least, that’s what we tell ‘em.” He smiled, his blue eyes shining as he reached out a pale, smooth hand to pet Zidane’s hair. “Those two are gonna run the place for a while. Why don’t the two of us go for a walk, hm? We can catch up.”
Zidane scowled at him for a moment before he smiled, ready to get out of the place full of squealing and giggling girls. He grabbed Blank’s wrist and hauled him outside, taking a deep breath of air. “That’s better,” he sighed, and he grinned up at Blank, stretching his arms behind his head as he looked at Blank.
Blank was rather short for his age, seventeen, but very handsome in the eyes of the girls. He had beautiful red hair that flopped over his blue eyes and a lean build, his skin smooth and evenly toned. Zidane admired him for his looks and his charm, wishing that he could wiggle his way out of trouble like Blank always could. Blank caught him staring, and he made a face at him. “What?”
Zidane felt a blush rise to his cheeks, and he shook his head. “I’m glad I’m not you, Blank, the way the girls hang all over you. I don’t know how you can stand the way they smell!” he exclaimed, grinning as Blank gave a pleased laugh.
“Yes, well, I guess I’m just popular with the ladies. What about you, Zidane? I saw one of the girls eyeing you with some evil, girlish intention in mind. Are you gonna get someone for Valentine’s Day? It’s next week, so you had better hurry...” He watched as Zidane gave him a horrified look, and he laughed again.
“No way am I finding some skirt to spend the day with. I’d rather go pick some pockets. Surely you...don’t have a date for Valentine’s?” He had not considered that Blank might be busy that night, and when the redhead automatically got a regretful look on his face, Zidane knew that he was in for a night alone. “Aw, hell, Blank! What am I supposed to do?!”
Blank sighed and stopped, looking the thirteen year-old in the eyes. “I have a date that night, Zidane...I’m sorry. Maybe Marcus or Cinna will go with you. You’ll still have fun with them, right?”
“No! You’re my best friend!” He sniffed a bit and looked away, embarrassed and upset. He had been planning raiding the pockets of the onlookers of the Valentine’s Day after-dark parade that made its way through the Business District with Blank’s help, but now his plans were shot. “Besides, they aren’t as good as you! We’re a team, Blank!”
Blank was starting to feel bad now, but he shook his head. “Sorry, Zidane...I just can’t, okay? I’ll make it up to you...I promise! And you know that thieves never promise unless they really, really mean it.”
Zidane huffed at him and shook his head, turning away. “Forget it. I’m not walking with you!” And before Blank could protest, Zidane had climbed a gutter and started hopping rooftops. With a roll of his eyes, he started toward the gate that led outside, shaking his head.
He really wished that Zidane could understand. The boy was always so sweet and rarely asked for anything, and so Blank wondered if he should really go out with the girl from the Industrial District or dump her and go to the parade with Zidane. Stepping outside the castle walls, he started toward Pinnacle Rocks, needing to find something to give the girl for the lovers’ holiday.
As he stepped into the pool of water, he saw thousands of shimmering blue stones, and he sighed, remembering the way Zidane’s blue eyes had shimmered in a similar fashion just before he had run off. Blank knew that he had seen tears there, and he sighed, bending over to dip his hand into the water. Drawing up several blue stones, he shoved them in his pouch then froze as he heard a low growling behind him.
“...Oh fuck...”
When Zidane wandered into the Tantalus hideout again, he found that the crowd had diminished quite a bit. Baku looked at him oddly before he clapped him hard on the shoulder, sending the boy crumpling to the ground.
“GWAHAHAHA! Where’s Blank, kid?!” Baku roared, watching as Zidane struggled to get up. When he saw Zidane’s nonchalant shrug, he narrowed his eyes. “...When did you last see him? Did you two have a fallin’ out or somethin’?”
Zidane scowled at Baku and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Last time I saw ‘im,” he grumbled, “he was heading out toward Pinnacle Rocks for somethin’. He wanted me to go with him, but I...changed my mind.”
“WHAT?! You left your troupe member BY HIMSELF to go to Pinnacle Rocks?! Do you have ANY idea how dangerous it is to go alone?! Oh hell...Marcus! Cinna! Move out!” he barked. Zidane’s eyes widened, and for the first time in a while, he felt true fear. It was a Tantalus rule to never go outside the city unaccompanied because of the Mist monsters, but he had not really thought about it, since no one ever went outside.
Blank did not move even as he felt a long, sharp tusk press against his lower back. He recognized the grunt of a Zaghnol, and he swallowed hard, trembling in terror. This was how people died, and there was absolutely no one out there to come to his rescue. When the tusk disappeared from his spine, he felt a few of his nerves release their tensity, only lasting for a few seconds before he felt blinding pain, an agonized scream escaping his throat as that long, black tusk pierced though his skin and he was tossed into the air.
He choked as he hit the ground again, feeling blood draining from his tusk wounds, then the hooves came down, tearing and pawing at him. The last thing he saw before one of the tusks knocked him out was the image of blue jewels flying everywhere, and then there was nothing but sweet, painless sleep.
Zidane had been so ashamed as he ran after his troupe-mates and his boss, listening to them yelling in turn at him as they dashed out through the castle gate. They were running across the grass, and perhaps fifteen minutes later, Zidane heard their talking stop completely. Shocked out of his thinking, he looked up to see what they saw.
It was a Zaghnol, roaring in pleasure as it dug at something red. Zidane thought it to be a friendly Mu at first, but he saw a humanesque hand and brought his own up to his mouth. The reaction was instantaneous for Baku, Marcus, and Cinna-they rushed forward, hacking at the beast and fighting it off what was surely Blank. Zidane did not have the strength to fight the beast-he merely began the slow, heart-pounding march over to where a bloody heap lay, only slightly moving.
“...B-Blank? Wh-what’re you doing?” he whispered as he dropped to his knees beside the bloody heap that was his best friend. “W-wake up, Blank...w-we g-g-gotta get all this b-blood off your face...” He reached down to try to wipe some of the blood away, almost gagging as he did not come in contact with skin but muscle, his hand coming up bloody.
“Blank?” he whispered frantically, having nowhere to grab onto on his best friend that wasn’t shredded. “Blank...w-wake up...” He heard the final roar of the animal in the background, though it sounded very distant to him, and he felt hands trying to pull him away from Blank. “NO!” he yelled, struggling to get back to his bloody and nearly-dead best friend. “I WON’T LET GO OF HIM!”
He screeched and cried as he was pulled into Marcus’ strong arms and held tightly so that he could not effectively struggle. He could see Blank’s blood all over him, and he sobbed, reaching out as best he could for Blank, who had been lifted into Baku’s arms. Zidane was sure that he had never seen Baku move so quickly, and before he passed out from shock, he saw Blank’s hand twitch.
When Zidane woke up again, he found, to his shock, that he was in the castle recovery room. The room appeared to be completely empty at first, but he heard voices in the hallway-one was distinctly Baku’s, the other a regal, hardy tone. Silently, he crawled from bed, his eyes widening as he saw the one bed that was surrounded by white curtains.
Everything suddenly came back to him, and he clapped a hand over his mouth, feeling sick. Making sure that Baku did not sound as though he was about to come back into the hospital room, he crept over to the white curtains, butterflies in his stomach as he took a gentle grip on the hem. He was nervous-what if he opened it to find Blank under a burial shroud? Tears pricked his eyes, and he suddenly ripped the curtains back, needing to see that his friend was not dead.
What he saw when he jerked back the covers made his stomach lurch in disgust, but he forced himself to look. The once perfect, unscarred Blank was covered in patches of too-dark skin, black stitches running crisscrossed all over his body serving to outline each patch. Blank was breathing he saw, but he was severely bruised on his natural flesh, lips cut and dark with blood. “Oh, Blank...” he whispered, and he moved closer to the bed.
Guilt surged within him, and he dropped to his knees beside the bed, his hand clutching an exposed section of Blank’s natural flesh. “This is all my f-fault....oh m-my g-g-god...” He gave a start as he felt a large hand on his shoulder, but he said nothing as Baku knelt down beside him and drew him into an embrace.
“Naw, Zidane...He shouldn’ta gone out by himself...He’s gonna be fine...The Regent helped us...” Baku’s voice was soothing to Zidane, and the boy calmed down before he was led from the castle and ordered to go rest at the hideout.
When he got there, the place was empty. With a whimper, he climbed into his own bed and cried himself back to sleep, trying to figure out what he could do to make it up to Blank.
In the middle of the night, he shot up out of sleep with an idea, hauling himself out of bed immediately and running downstairs. He knew exactly was he was going to do for Blank, and he began to dig through the storage room. Finding the box of jewels that the troupe had been selling, he picked out two pretty blue ones, making sure that their pendants matched exactly, and he ran out of the hideout with them in hand.
When he arrived at the castle, he convinced the elevator attendant, who recognized him from earlier that day, to let him ride up to the hospital ward. When he got out, he heard voices, and he snuck to the sickroom, peering around the doorframe.
Blank was sitting up in bed, screaming and clutching his face, jerking away from every touch bestowed to him by both Baku and the nurse. “DON’T TOUCH ME! Don’t FUCKING touch me!” He sounded as though he were in utter agony, and when Baku and the nurse gave up and went to see the regent, Zidane crept into the hospital room and went to the bedside.
“Blank?” he whispered softly, the tears evident in his voice. To his shock, Blank did not scream for him to go away, and so he reached out tentatively to take one of Blank’s hands and pull it away from his face. “...Blank, don’t yell,” he pleaded softly, waiting to be screamed at for the gentle grip on that hand.
Blank seemed to have frozen for a long time, then he shook his head and broke down, his sobs violent and heavy with tears. With a swallow, Zidane crawled delicately onto the bed beside him and took his other hand, drawing it down from his face. “Blank, look at me...” he whispered, and when the other shook his head, Zidane sighed and waved his tail a little. “...Why won’t you look at me?”
“I c-can’t,” Blank whispered. Zidane was very confused, but when Blank turned his head toward him and opened his eyes, the blonde was taken aback, and he bit his lower lip. Blank’s eyes had no whites-blood had been brought to the surface. The irises and pupils looked odd, as if Blank saw nothing at all, and in a moment of shock, Zidane realized that that was precisely the case. Blank must have heard the shock in Zidane’s breathing, for he looked away sharply and brought his hands away from Zidane’s and back up to his face. “I’m...so hideous...”
Zidane shook his head, then realized that Blank could not see that, and so he made a soft, negative sound. “No...No, Blank, you’re not hideous...Not at all. You couldn’t ever be ugly...even if you fell out of an airship and splattered on the street...” Reaching up, he took one of Blank’s hands, bringing it to his own chest delicately. He looked at the play of stitches between light and dark flesh, and he sniffled a little before he drew the hand to his lips. “You’re scared Blank...I’m scared, too...but...I promise...I’ll make it up to you.”
Blank’s blind eyes blinked, and he shook his head. “It isn’t your fault,” he whispered flatly. “I was always warned never to go outside by myself...I’m just stupid for not listening...” The more he spoke, the more tired he sounded, and Zidane helped him lie back down comfortably. “Thanks...Zidane? Could you tell Amanda to pay me a visit?”
Zidane’s heart started to pound in his chest, and he felt a little angry at this request, though he did not know why. “Yeah, I’ll tell her.” He felt the necklaces in his pocket, but he could not find the right words for the presentation. Instead, he just leaned over Blank and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I...will be back, okay?” he asked, but he got no reply. Blank was already asleep.
The next day, Zidane found Amanda in the bar, drinking a glass of water. Going up to her, albeit reluctantly, he deliver Blank’s message. When the girl heard the news, she gave a great gasp and ran out of the tavern, headed for the castle. Zidane gave chase, not having warned her about Blank’s altered appearance, but he could not seem to catch the frantic girl.
By the time he got to the hospital room, he heard the girl shriek before he was nearly run over by her as she ran out of the room quickly, looking disgusted. With a feeling of dread, Zidane moved into the sickroom to find Blank lying there, his expression dead and tears mingled with blood trickling down his face. Walking quietly over to him, he sat down on the bedside and reached out to catch one of those tears.
There was nothing at all to say.
By Valentine’s Day Eve, Blank had attempted suicide twice, having found a scalpel on the bedside left by the negligent attendant, tried clawing his eyes out, torn a few stitches, and tried to escape. The nurses had strapped him to the bed, rendering him unable to do any harm to himself, and when Zidane came in late that evening, he sighed. “...Hey, Blank...”
He did not get a response, and so he walked over to run a finger over Blank’s natural cheek. “Are you awake?” It was asked in whisper, and when he got a light nod in reply, he sighed and watched as Blank weakly tugged at his bindings. Making sure that no one was around, Zidane unbuckled the straps and got up to retrieve a blanket for his shivering friend. “There,” he whispered as he lay it over Blank’s body, and he frowned a bit as Blank burst into noisy tears.
“Wh-what d-d-did I d-do to deserve th-this?” he whispered frantically, his hands clapping to his face and tears seeping from between his fingers. The blonde boy bit his lower lip and touched what he assumed to be Blank’s thigh under the blanket.
“Nothing,” he said quietly, large blue eyes watching his friend in pain. “You didn’t do anything...it...should be me where you are, Blank.” He smiled softly as Blank’s arms wrapped around him softly, and he hugged him as gently as possible in return. “I wish it was me, Blank...I wish it was me so bad...”
Zidane felt tears on his shoulder, and he gently rubbed Blank’s side, careful not to touch a graft or the stitching in case it should hurt the other. Blank melted against him, and Zidane used his tail to completely close the curtains that he had pushed aside to come inside as he began to pet Blank’s hair. “Amanda...she th-thought I was hideous, didn’t she?” Blank asked quietly as he was petted like a kitten.
“She’s stupid,” Zidane whispered, and he felt an odd fluttering in his stomach as he heard the bell in the Theatre District chime midnight. “She’s so stupid, Blank...I think you’re beautiful.” He felt his cheeks color, but he did not take his words back. Blank’s body molded to his, and he pressed his hand gently to the small of Blank’s back as he wondered then what it would be like to kiss Blank.
In reality, Zidane had never kissed anyone, so the thought of kissing Blank was very odd to him. He had heard about kisses before, that was for sure, and he had heard from the various girls in Lindblum that Blank was a wonderful kisser, but he himself had never experienced one from anybody. He had always imagined that kisses were very gross and disgusting, and that boys did it to make girls go away, but they never did. Maybe girls LIKED gross stuff. Zidane pushed that thought from his mind-it would have ruined his perspective on women, and he didn’t want THAT happening.
But Blank was there against him, his breathing labored and his cheeks soaked with tears, and Zidane felt an odd warmth in his stomach as he felt Blank’s large hands clutching at his hips. His lips gave a tremble, and he moved one hand to tilt Blank’s chin upward, nervously wetting his lips with his tongue before he pressed them to those of his oldest friend.
Blank went rigid for a moment before Zidane felt him relax completely, his lips moving a bit against the blonde’s. This made that warmth in Zidane’s stomach intensify, and he closed his eyes tightly as he rubbed his lips against Blank’s in return. His heart was pounding hard inside his chest, and he knew Blank could feel it, but he was not as embarrassed as he thought he might be, and as they kissed like this, both hands rested in Blank’s hair, holding him as tightly as possible without pain to his lips.
When he could not think for not being able to breathe, Zidane parted the kiss, his blue eyes opening a little and his breath coming in nervous pants. “S-sorry,” he whispered lamely, feeling stupid for not having anything more eloquent to say. His hands were, he noticed, quivering madly and unwilling to stop even as Blank took his hands and rubbed the knuckles with his thumbs.
“It’s okay,” Blank claimed, and he pressed his natural cheek to Zidane’s. “That...was your first kiss, wasn’t it?” Zidane noted how nervous and proud Blank sounded at this, and he gave a soft nod since Blank could feel it. “It was...? Then...why did you give it to me? There are loads of pretty girls and boys who would jump at the chance to be your first anything...”
Zidane snorted and swished his tail a little, the end flicking. “They might be pretty,” he said as he looked away shyly, “but none of them is as pretty as you. Besides!” He had been sappy, and so now was the time to redeem himself as a man. “I don’t want to kiss a girl! That’s gross.”
Blank, for the first time in a week, smiled, and Zidane felt so wonderful for making it happen. Hoping that it might again, the blonde turned his head and pressed their lips together again, his eyes sliding closed in the dark as he felt Blank’s lips draw his bottom one between them and suckle softly. “Nnn...!” Zidane had never felt anything like this before, and he clung onto Blank wherever he could lay his hands. His tail was thumping the mattress insistently, and when Blank’s mouth opened over his and a warm, wet tongue slid between his lips, Zidane’s tail coiled up and grew still. The boy was amazed at this new development-he did not think that people actually put their tongues in other people’s mouths! He almost thought it was gross, then Blank’s tongue was gently rubbing his own, and all such thoughts were forgotten.
When the kiss ended that time, the break only lasted perhaps two seconds, long enough to get a deep breath, before they were kissing again. As their tongues wrestled and comforted one another, Zidane found that he was very, very warm and his pants had become somewhat uncomfortable. He could feel Blank’s hand on his thigh, his knee against his, every movement that the other made, and he found that this was very addicting. A soft moan escaped him, and as Blank’s hand slid higher, Zidane discovered that he wanted nothing more than for the other to put that hand between his legs. Blank, however, moved his hand to Zidane’s stomach, sliding beneath his shirt to feel his warm flesh.
When Blank broke that kiss to trail some down to Zidane’s neck, the Genome whimpered and arched arched into him, suddenly aware of how very naked Blank was. He could see that the blanket draped over Blank’s hips had acquired a strange shape, and he bit his lower lip as his pulse point was teased with a tongue. “Nn...Blank...” He slid one hand back into Blank’s hair, holding him against his neck as the skin of his neck was worried between teeth and lips. He wondered what would happen if he touched Blank between his legs, and he moved his hand from atop that thigh to the prominent lump in the hospital blanket, feeling the strong pressure of Blank’s body against his hand.
“Wh-what’re you doing?” Blank asked softly against that neck, making Zidane squirm. As Zidane’s hand gave a little squeeze and pleasure coursed through Blank’s body, the patched boy whispered an, “Oooh...” before he grabbed Zidane’s hand and moved it beneath the blanket.
The blonde boy gasped as he felt the heat that Blank’s arousal gave off, but he wrapped his hand around it and stroked it nervously, listening to the sounds of pleasure that his best friend made. He had never really done this before-well, once, but he didn’t understand what he was doing and had made many painful mistakes-and was definitely not sure how to handle someone else’s. He felt Blank’s hands at the top of his jeans, and he lifted his hips a little as the other drew them down around his thighs. “Don’t be scared,” Blank whispered, and a moment later, his large hand was wrapped around Zidane’s not-so-impressive erection and moving in such a way that Zidane’s hips bucked upward in delight. “You like that?”
“U-uh-huh,” Zidane affirmed shakily, swallowing hard and doing his best to continue fondling Blank as he was touched in such a way. He felt Blank rub his thumb over the very top, which made his body sing in pleasure, raising to meet that hand, and he mimicked the movement, listening to Blank’s breath hitch and a low, shuddering groan escape him. Blank’s other hand caught Zidane’s and took it away for the moment, and Zidane understood. He was to feel what to do before he tried it.
Blank’s lips were still attached to Zidane’s neck as he began to massage and stroke Zidane’s not-fully-grown cock, listening to the sounds he made and feeling the way his body responded to each ministration. He bit down on the pulse point, not caring who heard as Zidane yelled his name and struggled to get closer. “Calm down, calm down,” the redhead whispered, and he moved to crush their lips together.
Zidane had never felt such a medley of pleasure before, and it was making him squirm. He felt something inside of him needing out desperately, and as they kissed frantically, he made more and more sounds against those lips before his body seized up and he felt liquid spill out from the end of his arousal. It made him cry, the feeling did, and he sobbed Blank’s name in ecstasy against the kiss. Blank’s hand stilled then disappeared from between his legs altogether, finding Zidane’s hand and taking it.
Zidane almost made a sound of disgust as that wet, slimy hand took his, but he decided that it was not that bad, and Blank was guiding his hand beneath the blankets again. “Are you okay with this?” Blank asked quietly as he used Zidane’s ejaculate to cover that smaller hand so it would move easier along his shaft.
“Yeah...” Zidane whispered, feeling the powerful length in his palm as Blank moved his hand for him, guiding him in his strokes and his finger movements. “You’re a lot bigger than me...”
“I’m older,” Blank whispered, and he arched his hips up into the smaller hand. “You’ll get bigger, too, and it’ll feel better when you get...older...Mmm...” Zidane looked into Blank’s face, watching his lips part and take in a sharp breath. He sealed off that breath by pressing their lips together, and he sped up the movements of his hand. Blank was making unintelligible sounds against the kiss, his breath ragged, and Zidane wondered how it felt for him.
Blank broke off the kiss and buried his face in Zidane’s shoulder, both hands coming up to cling to him as his hips spasmed out of his control. Zidane could feel tears dripping onto his skin, and he began to stop, his hand slowing. “Am I hurting you?” he asked nervously, but Blank shook his head fiercely and whimpered.
“Don’t you dare stop, Zidane,” he said in a breath, moaning as that hand started again. He was ashamed of his tears, but they could not be helped. Zidane was so innocent and sweet; Blank knew that he was very lucky to be in this position. In a few years, surely Zidane would be doing this to every pretty boy in Lindblum. A cry escaped Blank’s lips and he bit onto Zidane’s neck to hold down a yell as he felt his erection give a twitch then release into the younger boy’s hand.
When Blank stilled, Zidane brought his hand back and looked at it, covered in a thick, white fluid. He gave a start as Blank moved that hand up, and Zidane looked at it a moment before he tentatively licked it. The taste made him lick his lips-it was not a bad taste, really, just very different. He ended up licking most of it off, only stopping because Blank reached up and drew him in for a long, gentle kiss.
“You’re so wonderful, Zidane...No one else would come in to see me. At least you didn’t forget about me...” Blank sounded very sad, and Zidane wrapped his arms awkwardly around the other.
“I could never forget about you, Blank...Never...” The blonde smiled a little and moved to pull that blanket over the both of them. “Can I stay in here with you tonight, Blank? I don’t wanna leave you by yourself...since it’s Valentine’s Day and all...” He found that his hands had a mind of their own and were running over Blank’s body, cautiously feeling the grafts and the stitches. “...Does this hurt?”
Blank grinned at the suggestion and pulled another blanket on top of them. “I want you to stay with me tonight...and tomorrow night, too, and the next.” Those warm hands traversing his body made him sigh in content, and he shook his head at the question. “No, it doesn’t hurt. The wounds are pretty much healed on the outside...they poured a bunch of Potion into the stitches, so they healed almost instantly...” He caught one of Zidane’s hands and brought it to his face, letting him trace the stitches there. “...Is it bad?”
Zidane felt tears rise to his eyes at that question, and he shook his head. “No...It’s not bad, Blank. I think it’s perfect...” He had never thought he would be sitting with Blank, spouting girly sap, but his friend needed it, and it only helped that he meant every word. His thoughts drifted to the necklaces, and he slipped one over Blank’s head.
“What’s this?” Blank asked, reaching down and taking the jewel pendant in his hand.
Zidane blushed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck before he put on his necklace as well. “I took our fortune, Blank,” he said quietly, and the grin that spread over the other’s face made Zidane a little braver as he explained. “It said that our lucky color was blue...and that we’d be together forever.”
Blank moved closer to the younger boy and caught his lips in a kiss, his hands resting on Zidane’s back. The younger boy kissed back eagerly, and when the kiss was over, he grinned sheepishly at Blank. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Blank...I know what it means now...”
The patched boy cocked his head to the side a bit before he smiled. “...Happy Valentine’s to you, too...and...what does it mean?”
“Valentine’s means that...that nobody’s more important than the person you wanna be with...and sometimes, you gotta show them...” He was blushing furiously again, but Blank reached up and rubbed a finger over his lips.
“That’s exactly what it means...” he said quietly, and he moved his hand behind Zidane’s neck to pull him close again. “So why don’t you show me again?”
~Owari~
Author’s note: Come on, peanut gallery; collective mushy sighs...Awwwww...So damned cute. It’s a little late for a Valentine’s fic, but at least I wrote it!