Mine.
Feathered.
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Warnings: Yaoi (duh),
I swear in this fic he needs a warning… Language
maybe… I don’t know…
Pairings: If you can’t work it out by now, I’m not going to
dignify that by telling you.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy 8 or any of its
affiliates. I do own this plot and the personalities of Whipcrack,
Jirrah and Shir’nis as well
as various other side characters which may or may not be in this chapter. I’m
not making any money off this fanfiction.
Author’s Notes: Well, just to make up for last time (and
because there’s another damn big section in this one which then has
chapter is twelve pages, so do enjoy.
Oh, and AFF. Net people, I know you’re reading this, there is a hit counter, so you better review or I’ll let
catcalls*
And yeah… /Native speak/.
Mine.
Chapter
How dare they? How dare
they waltz onto his people’s land and
think they could just take from him what was his! How dare they spoil… Ai, ai,
ai! Things had been so close. So good, but those damnable men were getting closer.
of it, because the last thing he needed was to lose
if the chocobo hadn’t stuck her head in, he
there.
Ah! Yes, it had been so glorious to wake up to his gorgeous
new prize experimenting like that. It
proved that the cowboy wanted, even if he wasn’t aware of what he wanted. Of course, what he wanted was Zell
– and really, who wouldn’t…? He was
such a fine specimen of male health. And he would please his cowboy a thousand
times over.
Oh, how he wanted to!
Zell cast a glance over at
body swayed gracefully with the movements of his chocobo.
It was better, now that he was in the loincloth. The native could see the flex
of muscles beneath smooth skin, in his thighs and up his sides and along his
arms, especially when Whipcrack tried to tug the
reins out so he could nip at Shir’nis’ feathers. The
cowboy tensed slightly, holding him in, and those muscles in his arms drew
taught. Zell licked his lips, easily able to imagine
what those arms would feel like around him.
They moved swiftly, more swiftly, Zell
was sure, than the group of four men behind them. They would stop for foolish
things such as food. He and
ate while they rode. Zell knew what was safe to eat
off the trees and pulled it, then kneed Shir’nis over
to share with the cowboy.
clucked at Whipcrack when the chocobo
skipped a few steps, trying to impress Shir’nis, then
flat out swore at him and whacked him over the head when clucking didn’t work.
“/You show him,/” the native said,
handing across what passed for their meal. He stayed close, liking when their
legs touched.
liked it too, he thought. He hoped. It made the cowboy seem more real, more
solid, more his.
As the day wore on, Zell taught
the cowboy more words, proud of how quickly he was learning. With only the two
of them, it was easy to teach him, and he was eager to learn. Thankfully, the
topic of him learning
language never arose. The cowboy seemed to enjoy the lilting flow of
again, the native reflected with a slow smirk, anything would sound sexy coming from
“/What’s that smile for?/”
slightly.
Because you’ll sound
delightful when I pleasure you…
“/You’re beautiful,/” he said,
rather than what he thought, and grinned when
“/Beauty is for she-folk,/” the
cowboy replied.
Zell snorted and shook his head.
“/Different beauty. Not just for
she-folk./”
fell silent, and he remained that way until Zell
stopped the chocobos so the two of them could stretch
their legs and perform necessary bodily functions. He let the cowboy have his
privacy, but he wasn’t very happy at all when said cowboy returned with his
hair tied back.
“/Your hair,/” he said, touching
the woven grass
had wrapped around it. It was no longer the cowboy’s right to choose what he
did with his hair…
“/It keeps tangling. Riding is
difficult with it in my face,/”
“/I promise to take it out when we stop. But down is hard./”
Zell considered this, eyeing
see the logic, even if he didn’t like it. He thought the cowboy looked stunning
with his hair down, but by the same token, he didn’t want the auburn waves to
be torn out. He leaned forward, nosing at the soft hair, then moved back again,
nodding slightly.
“/Alright. Next time, ask me
eyebrows lifted then furrowed at him.
“/You can’t control everything I do./”
“/I can. I do./”
Zell looked intently at
understand. The cowboy took a step back, shaking his head.
“/You don’t./”
“/You are mine,
“/No. It doesn’t work like that
Zell showed his teeth, a conscious
gesture of intimidation and dominance, and drew himself up. He had given
because he was, after all, not used to the rules now set upon him, but outright
disobedience simply couldn’t be tolerated. The cowboy had no right to so
obviously defy him.
“/Yes, it works like that,/” he
informed
calmly.
“/You can’t order me around./”
“/I can. You are here and you are mine and you will do as
told. Hair up is fine for now, but next time, ask first./”
Zell had seen the look
He never turned it on his parents, but he had turned it on men of his age, and
women too. It was a look that pissed the native off, and had pissed him off
from the first moment he ever saw it. The cowboy tilted his head back, chin
going up, and he looked down his nose in a manner that clearly said he thought
he was above and better than Zell or anything he
could do or say.
The native peeled back his lips again and his hand flashed
up to cup around
neck, over his shoulder. The cowboy sucked in a breath as Zell’s
thumb sank into a pressure-point, and he went to his knees against his own
volition. (1)
“/Don’t look like that at me,/”
“Z-Zell…”
“/Shh. I
talk, you listen. You are no longer with own kind. You are with me, and I make
rules for you. You are not stupid,
You know what I want and, I think, you are starting to know what you want. I
took you because I want you. Now, I have you and you are mine. A taken
understand that word, but it didn’t matter for now. “/A taken listens to his
taker,/” Again,
didn’t know the word, but Zell assumed he would understand
that he meant the cowboy was to listen to him. “/You listen to me
swallowed, but nodded, and Zell was desperate to kiss
him, but reprimand couldn’t come with affection so close on its heels. Not yet,
anyway. Though, there were definite advantages to reconciliation after an
argument…
“/S-Sorry…/” the cowboy whispered after a long few
heartbeats, voice unsteady. He was afraid.
Zell let his face soften and he
drew
to his feet, stroking his cheek. The cowboy trembled, hands moving
meaninglessly around the level of their waists, but he didn’t pull away.
“/You do what I say, yes, but you
gain also. You no longer need worry about anything. I will take care of you,
protect you, feed you, clothe you./” He grinned at his
cowboy adding; “/And I do not own patch-beasts./”
“/What…?/”
know what Zell was talking about.
The native frowned as well, trying to work out how to explain
himself. He scratched the edge of his ear with a
finger, mostly because lifting his arm made his muscles more prominent.
“/Patch-beasts… Creatures… you hate./”
Still
looked blank. Zell showed his teeth in frustration,
“Mooooo!”
broke into a grin, then burst into a fit of laughter
that made Zell blink in confusion. What was funny?
That was the sound the patch-beasts made and, if he did say so himself – which
he did – he was good at imitating them.
“/What?/” he asked of
“/Because you look funny,/” the cowboy replied, showing
his mouth and lips stuck out like an exaggerated kiss.
Zell had to grin. The cowboy was
right, it did look funny.
“/I see./”
“/And they’re, like, called/ cows.”
It was Zell’s turn to laugh
slightly. The affectation ‘like’, he hadn’t thought would remain.
“Cows,” Zell said,
way to speak of them./”
- - - - - - -
He was so arrogant. So certain that his way was the best way
and that no one, least of all
would contradict him. He didn’t feel inclined to after the display about his
hair. Besides, this time Zell was right. The cowboy didn’t know where the hell the word ‘cow’
came from, but ‘patch-beasts’ actually described what a cow
which was just stupid.
He didn’t return to Whipcrack’s
back until Zell had returned to Shir’nis’,
which seemed to be the right thing to do, because the native gave a nod of
approval.
wondered what Zell had referred to him as when he had
said ‘a something listens to his something’. They had been different words, but only partly. Derivations of the one
word, he was sure, but without knowing the one word, he couldn’t work out the
derivations.
He shrugged it off when Whipcrack
sauntered after Shir’nis, warbling in the back of his
throat in an effort to catch her attention.
“For Hyne’s sake, will you shut
up?”
hissed, shifting on the furs beneath him. Zell had
dispensed with the saddle wherever he’d dispensed with
glad of the furs. Without pants, riding bareback would be even more
uncomfortable. Especially the way Whipcrack kept
trying to dance for Zell’s chocobo.
At least the native hadn’t taken bridle and reins away as well. He wondered,
not for the first time, how Shir’nis was so well
trained.
Irvine blinked in surprise when, just as the sky was turning
to gold and the sun was beginning to set, Zell slid
free of Shir’nis back and disappeared into the bushes
with nothing more than a “/Stay!/” thrown over his shoulder at both the bird
and Irvine himself. Shir’nis instantly lowered her
head and started to crop at the undergrowth, sifting through grasses and weeds
in search of greens or a fat bug. The cowboy stared at the place where
gone from view. He let go Whipcrack’s reins and
allowed the chocobo to follow Shir’nis
lead.
He thought back to this morning, how it had felt when
excitement deep in his belly and twitching between his legs. He thought of
right, and knew it matched his own squirming when the native had rolled his
hips.
It was so… basic. So
dominant and claiming a movement – he knew
it was, because he often made the same motion against a woman. But he
They both had been as excited as each other after this morning’s encounter.
hooked one ankle up over the junction of Whipcrack’s
neck and shoulders so he could prop his elbow on it and support his chin in his
hand.
He realised, suddenly that he had
wanted the native to kiss him this morning, and still wanted it now. Pictures
of the way the hot water had sluiced off Zell’s body
as he stepped out of the lake and how the steam had curled around him flashed
across
closed eyelids and that deep, primal stirring coiled in his belly again.
Hot, animal, passionate. He wouldn’t
bruising pale, feminine skin.
Vague fantasies captured his half-dozing mind. It wasn’t
something he had contemplated before, but he wasn’t naïve either. He could
conjure up pictures good enough to feed the hungry heat low in his belly. He
shifted a little, imagining how it would feel to catalogue each of those
flexing muscles with his hands instead of his eyes. The idea of
chest, nipple, abdomen, navel… lower.
“Mmm…”
Whipcrack moved on and he swayed
easily with the stride out of long familiarity. He knew the chocobo
wouldn’t stray far from Shir’nis. Then he tripped,
making
hiss painfully as the movement jarred certain excited areas against bunched-up
furs. Shir’nis looked disdainfully at them, as though
she had been set to baby-sit two particularly annoying
children. Whipcrack warbled at her.
“I don’t think it’s workin’, boy,”
the cowboy said sympathetically, patting the golden neck. Whipcrack
seemed to sigh and his head lowered.
chuckled. “Never know, if you keep tryin’.”
He sighed, wondering to himself why Zell
hadn’t kissed him yet. He was
embarrassed that he wanted just that, but curious as well. He wanted to learn.
He wasn’t shy of his body, of his reactions, of his hunger for the delightful
pastime that was sex. Granted, he considered it the domain of man and woman,
but… What Zell wanted was obvious, now. The intense
look he cast at
had developed into something hungry, longing. Or maybe it had been that from
the start, and the cowboy just wasn’t aware of it.
It seemed so long since he had laid Selphie
down in the hay, hitched up her skirts and made her wriggle, but it was only
the day before yesterday. Already, he could speak Zell’s
language well enough to carry on a conversation. Already, his body told him it
had been too long since he last used it. And, generally speaking, he was enough
in control to go much longer than two
days without intimate company.
It was Zell. He knew it was
banking, feeding the fire inside of him. And he was a master of it. He could
have
panting with just a look, and the cowboy knew he was aware of that fact –
really, how could he not be, so arrogant as he was?
haystack was her idea. The fastest he
had ever managed was four days.
There was a low whistle and Shir’nis
lifted her head, then trotted off.
after her, and they came out of the thick growth into a clearer area.
examining several feathers like the three in his own hair.
and went to see what Zell was doing, going to his
knees beside him.
“/Time for you to remember, Cowboy,/”
the native said, holding up a feather.
blinked and frowned, cocking his head a little.
“/Remember? Remember what?/”
“/Will stand no more disrespect
from you. Remember your place./”
arched a brow, but Zell had looked away again,
stirring a bubbling substance in a clay pot in the fire. He threw in three
vibrant deep blue blossoms, and the pale liquid turned the same
“/What?/”
beginning to get some idea.
“/Can’t claim you yet, without
others. Can’t mark you./” He indicated the tattoo
around his own thigh. “/But can take first step./” He
withdrew the feather from the blue concoction and laid it by the fire,
presumably to dry, then he turned to look at
that his tattoo seemed to crawl there.
swallowed, but he didn’t fight when Zell reached
behind him to free his hair, running his fingers through the fire-silk until it
fell free about the cowboy’s shoulders. He reached up, then, and touched the
blued feathers in his own hair.
“Zell…?”
“/Don’t be afraid. Nothing any
different since the moment I saw you – you’ve always been mine
eyes widened and he shook his head, scowling at the native.
“/No person owns another person./”
Zell scoffed, curling his lip
slightly, and made a gesture
thought was in the general direction of the town.
“/People always own people. Husband owns wife. Wife owns
children. Always./”
“/A husband doesn’t own
his wife…/”
Both golden brows lifted at that, the native feigning a look
of surprise with a patronising air that made
years old.
“/No? Always, husband tells wife to
do things. Cook for me, clean for me, work garden, feed children
“/That’s different…/”
knew Zell was right.
“/Different? How?/”
“/Husbands don’t mark wives like cattle./”
“/No?/” Zell
said again, then lifted his hands, wrapping the forefinger and thumb of his
right around the ring finger of his left. “/Gold band.
Says wife belongs to husband and husband to wife – wife expects husband to be
hers only, same as husband expects of wife. People own people just the same as
I own you, just are too stupid and ‘civilized’/” he sneered the word. “/to say
so./”
had run out of arguments.
“/You’re smart,/” he sighed after
several minutes of trying to come up with something else.
Zell seemed to like that. He
puffed out his chest and ran a hand through the un-spiked hair at his temple.
chuckle ruefully at him. At least he wouldn’t have to work too hard to stroke
the damn man’s ego.
“/You’re smart to
“/Well, I guess that depends on what you tell me to do
The native smirked, reaching out to pat
“/Fiery hair shows fire inside./”
- - - - - - -
Fire
to burn bright when I make love to you.
He didn’t say that, though. He meant to make the cowboy wait
for that, because he knew he was starting to want it. More
than starting, maybe.
eyes slid more often away from his face, following the lines of his body down
to the meager scrap of cloth about his hips. He was certainly having Thoughts.
Zell touched the feather lightly
to see if it was dried yet, but it was still tacky to his touch so he left it.
“/You’re not the first one who’s, like, said that
murmured and Zell had to pause a moment to remember
what it was he’d actually said.
“/Who else?/” he wondered, already
getting jealous.
shrugged.
“/Lots./”
Zell grumbled to himself, which
made
laugh softly.
“/No more. Mine for always
argument. He eyed
waiting for a protest, but the cowboy just sighed and rolled his eyes.
that
at least learned when he ought to keep his thoughts to himself.
The native offered
some fresh-cooked meat, which the cowboy took with his thanks and devoured in
no time flat. He had a good appetite. Good appetite meant good stamina.
“/What do I have to do?/”
Zell looked quizzically at
his fingers clean of the juices.
“Eh?”
“/For this… whatever you’re going to do./”
“/Ah!/” Zell
smirked, licking his lips just so he could watch those sky-coloured
eyes widen and reflect more firelight. “/Just be still./”
eyes widened further and Zell reached out to test the
feather again. He was pleased to find it dry and he picked it up, shaking
excess clumps of dye free of it. He stroked it, un-sticking the barbs from one
another until they were back to their usual feathery feel.
was watching him with a wariness that he found highly amusing, head clearly
filled with all sorts of strange ideas as to what Zell
was going to do.
“/Close your eyes,/” he murmured
and
hesitated only a moment before doing so, swallowing in the same moment.
Some part of him quailed at how much of a production he was
making out of so simple and every-day an act – Feathering was impermanent
anyway. It merely let everyone else know who was sleeping with
taker from putting his own feather to
hair. Of course,
didn’t know that.
Zell grinned and shifted forward
to straddle the cowboy’s kneeling legs, feeling the twitch in those elegant
thighs when he settled upon them. He shifted forward until their hips were
flush against one another, then bent, pressing a kiss
to the curve of the cowboy’s shoulder.
breath hitched.
“Z-Zell…” he whispered hesitantly,
shifting uncomfortably.
“/Be still,/” Zell
reminded him firmly.
stilled, and Zell could feel his heartbeat where
their chests touched. He tested a fang with his tongue and toyed with the idea
of biting, marking that way, but discarded it. Not yet. He reached up, brushing
most of the cowboy’s hair back over his shoulders, then with a strong piece of
twine, he fixed the feather just behind Irvine’s left ear, the opposite to his
own; blatant proclamation that the cowboy was a taken.
He drew back and breathed gently across
a kiss. A smirk curved his own lips and he denied it, slipping off and away to
settle back down on the grassy ground.
blinked at him.
“/But… I… Th-that’s it…
“/Yes./”
said nothing, fingers coming up to touch the feather in his hair. He sighed and
stood, going over to Whipcrack to retrieve some of
the furs. It was already beginning to cool down, and they were no longer inside
the well-warmed cave.
“/I am sorry,/” Zell
said as
settled back down, and the cowboy looked askance at him.
“/For?/”
“/Not finding shelter. My job to
make sure you’re sheltered./”
smiled shyly, then shook his head.
“/That’s okay. I’m fine
The native still wasn’t all too happy with himself. It would
be harder to leave
out in the middle of nowhere so he could go back and check on the progress of
the group searching for them. At least in the cave he had been protected.
For the first time since this venture had began,
Zell wasn’t sure what to do. He knew they would be at
least a day ahead of the party, but without backtracking to check, he couldn’t
know how safe they were. And he needed to rest himself. In this case, it would
be better if he had help. But he had something to prove, and he was going to
prove it. It would be alright. He could stay with
the shelter he was aiming for. It wasn’t nearly so
good as the previous one, but it would have to do.
“Zell…?”
“/Yes?/”
“/Why me…?/”
Zell glanced over at him, watching
as he set out the furs for them, then he went over to the cowboy, bringing the
Snow Lion pelt around
shoulders. The cowboy leaned towards him and he gladly slipped an arm around
his waist, drawing him in close.
“/You’re beautiful,/”
“/Beauty is for she-folk,/”
he only chuckled.
“/Don’t understand.
Beautiful in a way she-folk could never have./”
Zell ran his hands under the fur,
along the curves of
hips, up his waist and sides, then down his arms, along his thighs.
“/Built to be a taken.
dropped his eyes, but Zell could tell he was
flattered.
“/I’m a what? I can’t understand that word./”
Zell smirked, then
chose his words the best he could to explain.
“/When with she-folk, she is taken./”
stared at him.
“/You’re callin’
me she-folk?!/”
“/No. Very no.
Taken not a word used only for she-folk. Just explaining.
When you with a woman, she is taken,
you are taker…/” The smirk grew and Zell leaned
close, nosing along Irvine’s jaw to his ear, then back again, breath whispering
across elegant, already parting lips. “/When you are with me…
gave a soft, shaking sigh that ended in a tiny sound somewhere between fear and
longing. The native ran his palm up the inside of the cowboy’s thigh, and
parted further as he took his breath back in a tiny gasp. That was the reaction
Zell had been looking for and a quick tongue dipped
gently within the cowboy’s mouth, tasting him briefly before the native
followed with his lips, capturing
The cowboy didn’t even flinch, and Zell
was proud of him for that.
He took a long time over the kiss, making it slow and deep
so that
had every chance to examine it – if he could think, that was. After all, it was
a particularly good kiss, of course. His hand came up from the cowboy’s thigh
to his jaw, drawing him further into the kiss, and Zell
ran his tongue along the one beneath it, coaxing a response. It didn’t take
long for his taken to catch on; they were soon both contributing.
made a low sound, like a pleased Torama, and
occupied in far better pursuits. A hand came to his shoulder,
from the kiss.
looked at him in a sort of daze, then he surprised Zell
by pulling him back again for a hungrier, needier repeat.
The native was hard pressed to deny him. Indeed, he indulged
the cowboy for a few seconds, tongue plunging within the willing mouth, before
he drew himself back under control and pulled away.
Irvine licked a lower lip slightly swollen into an
almost-pout and offered him a smile he thought could well have been seductive –
but it was likely the firelight. Zell swallowed,
finding that the stirring deep his belly which was a constant whenever he was
near the cowboy worked into a veritable storm. Ai! It took everything he had
not to just take what he thought his pretty prize may well be offering him. But
he could not let
taken could be lead to think he had the upper hand, especially one not aware of
the proper laws of behaviour.
A reminder was certainly in order.
“/Lay down,/” he said softly, and
knew by the swiftness with which
did as he was told that the cowboy thought certain things were going to occur.
One kiss from you isn’t going to have my
knees trembling as it does a female. Oh no.
He ran a hand down the center of
again, marveling at the smoothness of his skin, and how it turned to honey in
the firelight. He truly was a beautiful sight, worthy of Zell.
- - - - - - -
The native’s gaze grew predatory and
his form. Just that look was enough to join the pooling heat between his legs
and he shifted, wanting Zell to do something. The kisses weren’t enough.
“/Be still,/” Zell
growled and
stilled, swallowing.
The hand stroked down his body again, this time going beyond
his navel, but lifting free of his body to ghost over where he most wanted to
be touched. The native flicked the loincloth up and
creeping across his cheeks.
Zell touched a fingertip to the
very end, drawing a shaking half-gasp from
finally opened his eyes, eaten alive with curiosity – why wasn’t he doing more?!
The native met his eyes with a look of pure arrogance and
shifted the fingertip gently. A whimper clawed free of
“/You are a taken. My taken
took his hands away, using them to tuck the Snow Lion pelt around
now. Dream./”
stared at him, dumbstruck.
“/Wh
Zell crouched over
lip curling slightly.
“/Taken,
You follow Old Law, now, and to do so means to follow my wishes. You will
remember./” Zell touched the feather in Irvine’s
hair, then brushed a brief, unfulfilling kiss across his lips before he was
gone to sit by the fire.
was silent for a long few moments, then he spoke
softly.
“/You aren’t sleeping here…?/” He
indicated the furs, meaning with himself.
Zell smiled.
“/Am. But not
yet. Soon, I will join you. Close your eyes now. Tomorrow, we must
travel again./”
And Zell left him no option but to
obey, because he broke into a low hum that soon became a soft, rhythmic song.
many words. The lilting nature of the song made it difficult, and he was tired
from traveling and… the kisses.
He drifted off to sleep with Zell’s
taste on his lips and his voice in his ears.
- - - - - - -
(1) Nope. Don’t know jack about pressure points…
Author’s Notes: Wow… Only one footnote… That’s surprising.
Hope you had fun! I did. *grins*