A pair of short fics, written to mirror each other. The first one I wrote at about forty hours into the game, just because; the second I wrote because I was asked for 'more of the same' during one of my infrequent LiveJournal ficbit request memes. Since they're really two halves of a whole, I put both halves here instead of splitting them up.
Both pieces are lightly suggestive, but nothing more.
=====
 

      "No-o," Balthier said consideringly, rubbing his chin and giving the great yellow beast a decidedly jaundiced look. It shifted from one massive foot to the other and stared back, either malice or stupidity gleaming in its beady black eyes. "No, I can't say that I do. They're filthy, smelly, noisy, ill-tempered animals, and what's more, they always know exactly when they shouldn't take three steps forward. And that's when they do."

      "When you're trying to mount, you mean," Basch said, laughing a little. He reached out and caught the chocobo's bridle in one hand, tugging its head down. "I'll hold her steady for you, my friend."

      "I won't ask how you know it's a she," Balthier said. There was a pause, during which both men studied the great bird, before Balthier looked back to Basch. "You're certain about this."

      "I am." Basch scratched the downy yellow feathers under the chocobo's beak. It half-closed its eyes and qworked in stupid avian pleasure. "I mean no disrespect to you or your fair ship, mind, but there are still some places only a chocobo can go. Or would be stubborn enough to go."

      "Ah, well," Balthier said with a sigh, putting a foot in the stirrup and vaulting aboard. The chocobo shifted under its new burden and Balthier rode the motion uneasily, his left hand flung out for balance. Eventually they both settled, beast and rider, and Balthier leaned down to accept the reins from Basch. "I suppose I've straddled worse in my day, eh?" he said, a small and meaningless smile on his face.

      "Really?" Vaan said, appearing around the wrong side of the animal and causing it to shy violently two steps to the left, flapping its wings. Balthier grabbed the saddle horn in both hands and grimly rode it out; Vaan barely noticed. "Wow. So, what, you've ridden a chickatrice or something?"

      Basch and Balthier looked at Vaan, then looked at each other. Balthier shook his head. Basch looked away, just barely smiling.

      "What?" Vaan said, confused.

      Balthier sighed again. "Never mind," he said, putting his heels to the chocobo's ribs and clicking his tongue. The chocobo qworked again and lolloped awkwardly towards the gate.

      "I confess that I'm not certain about this," Basch said, eyeing the skimmer (and, by extension, Balthier) apprehensively. "I find it hard to trust those machines."

      Balthier leaned forward, resting his crossed arms on the skimmer's handlebars. The sleek machine balanced on the sands of the Tchita Uplands only by the grace of his legs, flung wide, his feet braced against the ground. "Come now, you've lived in Archades for, what, a year now? I'm surprised you've made it this far without giving yourself away, if you can't even drive a simple skimmercraft."

      "Ah, well," Basch said. "There has been a time or two that required excuses, it's true."

      "You see?" said Balthier, gesturing negligently in Basch's direction. "Every Judge Magister was once a twelve-year-old Archadian lad with a yearning for a skimmer of his own and the freedom that that implies. Yes, even Drace. And I guarantee you that your brother was no different, save for his age."

      "Ah," Basch said again, and stopped.

      "It will be an invaluable aid to your charade," said Balthier, with the most winning smile in his repertoire.

      Basch sighed. "You speak truth, my friend, but for all that you make me no less uncertain."

      "Come on," Balthier said, sitting up and patting the seat behind him. "I'll take us for a spin, shall I? Just to give you an opportunity to get used to it. Don't tell me you don't trust my flying."

      "In that you have earned my trust, as well you know," said Basch.

      "Then get on," said Balthier. "I promise that nothing untoward will happen. Sky pirate's honour."

      Slowly Basch unclasped his Judge Magister's cape and rolled it up, leaning up to put it in the Strahl's passenger compartment. Balthier leaned against the handlebars and watched Basch procrastinate, his fingers flicking idly across the instrument panel.

      "Behind you, then?" Basch asked, swinging a leg over the skimmer's long seat and gingerly straddling it.

      "Indeed," said Balthier, his legs flexing as he steadied the skimmer with an effort--Basch's armor was heavy. "And put your arms about my waist, unless you think you'd find it instructive to fall off."

      "Don't think I'd care for that," said Basch, his arms settling about Balthier's waist. Balthier smiled absently and touched one of Basch's mailed forearms, then put both hands on the skimmer's grips and revved the engine to life. The magicite core spilled a faint blue glow over the ground.

      Basch grunted and tightened his arms about Balthier--the weight of his armor meant that he pulled Balthier back against him, rather than pulling himself forward against Balthier. "Must it vibrate like that?"

      "I'm afraid so," said Balthier, automatically checking the instrument panel again. "That's mostly the fault of the ground, though. A moment in the air will put everything to rights."

      "As you say, then," Basch said.

      Balthier chuckled and revved the engine, making it roar. "Besides, long, hard, throbbing--these are a few of my favorite things, especially between my legs," he called back over the noise.

      After a moment, Basch's own laugh, rich and warm, echoed his. "My friend, that was unusually blatant of you. Are you losing patience with me?"

      "Not at all," said Balthier. He twisted one grip and sent the skimmer moving forward at a slow walking pace. "But if you can't be blatant with your friends, with whom can you be?"

To be honest, I don't know if I like Basch/Balthier or not. That's entirely beside the point! Flirting doesn't always signify intent, particularly when it's Balthier, for whom flirting seems to be like breathing, only more necessary.

And Vaan is dumb; it's why we love him!

back to fanfic
back to library