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[portolan]

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park and ride

[floresco]

At the first sign of trouble and with the memory of the two hellish days she was confined to solitary fresh in her mind, Aerith had gotten away from the underground festivities before things took a turn for the worst, retreating all the way back to the somewhat dilapidated house she'd been permitted to renovate and occupy before the news about what happened to those who had been caught reached her.

After hearing about the scope of the punishment for those who had been apprehended, it's enough to make Aerith shove off her own fears of returning to one of those filthy little cells and go back to make sure she wasn't leaving a friend to a similar fate.

She lingers on the outskirts of the small crowd, frowning deeply as she looks over the collared group of captives until she spots the familiar, tall shape of Balthier towards the back. Concern stabs at her heart, urging her to move forward and cut through the crowd, doing her best to look as confident as she could to better ensure no one would question her marching up to her captive of choice to claim him for herself.

When Aerith reaches Balthier her expression is dark with concern, angling herself so that she's between him and everyone else.

"Are you okay?" She wouldn't be if their positions reversed, and now all she can think about is doing everything she can to get him away from this.

"I've got you, don't worry. We'll get you out of this mess together."

[portolan]

Balthier was not as wise as Aerith in slipping away before things got out of hand, though he doubts it would have mattered; he's recognizable enough -- especially given how much he likes to show off at a gathering -- that they likely would have had his name anyway.

He's done solitary at other prisons, hard labor, you name it. He's not even that worried about being made to copulate. That's been getting easier for him, and hell, if he needs to find some drink to make it easier, fine. It was worth a genuinely good evening.

But when, already stripped of an outfit he'd very much like back thank you, someone slaps a collar around his neck and begins explaining their punishment, he feels the acidic taste of panic rising in his throat. His hands come up to pull at the stiff material, thicker and tighter than the collar he so enjoys with Aerith, pressing just a little too tight on his windpipe. Much as his fingers search, there is no clasp, no stitching to be pulled loose.

His eyes rove like a cornered animal, trying to keep his breathing steady as he looks around the other prisoners, trying to see if maybe, maybe there's someone he trusts to have power over him. Already inmates from the crowd are coming forward, claiming partners who have little ability to resist.

His throat tightens, trying to shrink to the back of the group. Maybe he can partner with another collared inmate, even the dynamic -- he doesn't want to give orders anymore than he wants to take them, but at least then there's motivation not to be cruel.

When Aerith's arms wrap around him, he's so far in his own panic that he winces, body going entirely rigid. But something in her voice penetrates the haze and he breathes out weakly, arms coming to clutch at her too tightly.

He still doesn't want to do this -- the guards were very clear only public displays would work -- but he could sob in relief at having Aerith be the one giving him orders.

Still -- "You don't have to put yourself up for them to see like this." He might be the one following orders, but she's still going to have to compromise herself.

[floresco]

The tension that keeps his limbs tight, and his form rigid when she hugs him against her is more than enough to fan the flames of her anger. She knows how unfair this place can be, has taken the brunt of it herself after something that wasn't technically her fault condemned her to deal with a misconduct, but seeing him like this feels somehow worse than the two days of solitary.

She keeps her arms around him, shaking her head when he tries to dismiss her aid. "We're going to stand like this, nobody can see anything." Surrounded by collared prisoners and those taking advantage of their predicament isn't the best place to do this, but if it means getting him out of here and to somewhere that at least feels safer, she's going to do everything she can to make sure that he's okay.

"We'll just use our hands, and block everything with my skirt." Not for the first time, Aerith's thankful for the return of her clothes. The longer skirt on her pink dress is far better suited for concealing them, and given the circumstances she needs that as much as he seems to.

She frees a hand to touch his cheek, guiding him to look at her.

"It's okay, Balthier, I'm here. Keep your eyes on me, and I'll keep mine on you, nothing else is happening but us." Is she reassuring him, or herself? It's hard to say exactly, but it's clear she means every word, determined to see him out of this.

[portolan]

His mind erupts in excuses and very detailed scenarios of how all of this could go wrong, but he does his best to take deep breaths and focus on her voice. The suggestion to just use hands finally gives him something concrete to focus on. Yes. He can do that. He can feel alright doing that to her, but he isn't sure how it will work with her skirt and --

She touches his face, and his eyes finally focus on her, her voice soothing but firm. It's like a tether pulling him back from wherever his mind has retreated to. He nods once before folding his forehead down to hers.

"Give me something else to call you," he pleads. "When this starts I don't want to -- there are rules, and I don't want to bring what we have into this." Or think about this the next time they are able to be together.

[floresco]

Working hard to heed her own advice Aerith keeps her eyes fixed on Balthier's face, focusing on him in the hopes that it really will serve to blot out what's going on around them.

Balthier bends to rest his forehead against hers and Aerith rises onto the balls of her feet, meeting that point of contact, her voice soft and just for him when she speaks.

"You can call me Aerith if you want to," the hand on his cheek brushes his skin gently, giving them both another point of focus that isn't everything else. "This isn't what we have, this is a friend helping another friend, it's not part of us."

[portolan]

How is she so infinitely kind? And calm. He doesn’t know much about her past, but whatever it is, it’s been hard; that’s the only way a person turns out strong as skysteel like this.

Her fingers brush his cheek and he lets his eyes close, own hand coming to clasp hers. “Thank you,” he breathes. It’s not nearly big enough for how grateful he is, but it’s something.

“I dont — I don’t want our names on this. Please. Call me your servant. And give me something you don’t want to be called again.”

[floresco]

Though it isn't something she would have thought of, had their positions been switched, Aerith thinks she understands why he doesn't want any attachment to what they have to do here to anything else that

"Okay, my servant, and you can call me Mistress?" She's been called that before back at the Palace after stumbling into a room with another woman, and she's heard it used before by other prisoners. It's not terrible, but it's not the term he's found for her, something that's come to be more personal, that she only wants to hear from him.

Shifting against him, Aerith looks down at their bodies and lifts her skirt, holding it against his chest so it hung like a curtain on either side. "Is this okay?"

Aerith --

[portolan]

Their games have fallen into a sort of rhythm. Some variation exists, but a combination of working on Aerith's house, bringing clean food to be cooked, bathing, and passing out together surrounds a consistent centerpiece of Balthier collared and both of them naked. Since that blur of days after the thanksgiving party, though, he's been careful to only sleep with her when the rules are in place. He's always eager to see her, always lingering longer than he should, and something about opening that back up to a place of no bounds is...uneasy.

That doesn't mean exploration and teasing are off the table, though, and at some point the idea of bathing together and others watching comes up, and there's another strange sideways dance that leads to them going to the baths and saunas together, a proposed game of touching themselves until one of them caves. Not their usual game, but a game with rules all the same.

It doesn't take long for Aerith to get that maddening twinkle in her eye and suggest a way to make their game a step wilder. He hesitates, not sure how he feels about watching someone else touch her. He knows she sleeps with others, isn't really bothered by it honestly, but seeing it feels entirely different. And yet --

There's desire, a coil of want, a curiosity that he only ever really chases with her, so he agrees, and next thing he knows she's pulling him by the hand -- stark naked -- to the sauna and he can't help the heat at his cheeks at being so publicly dragged to clearly nefarious ends. At least he thinks that's what the heat at his cheeks is, and by now he's getting old hat at keeping those thoughts in check without glancing to either side of the narrow safe path he's carved.

"Do you think you'll like this more or less than getting to touch me from afar with your toys?" he purrs in her ear as they slip aside, knowing part of the game is going to be not touching her for awhile, so he takes this opportunity to pull her close, squeezing her ass as he plants a kiss on her cheek. "Also, I'm placing bets you beg for me first."

[floresco]

There's so much she's come to understand better because of her time spent with Balthier, but for every mystery they detangle together, at least one more pops up to take its place. It's not an unpleasant variety of confusion exactly. Still, it is one that Aerith is conscious not to examine too closely when it's easier to push it aside and write it off as the expected fallout of recovering from a terrible situation. In such a mad, unstable place like this prison, getting a reprieve from the brunt of its badness can feel like a blessing, things get said, passions run high for better or for worse, and warmth is all the more alluring and easy to fall into. It's all very cut and dry from a certain point of view, and the want to keep it (at least) looking that way makes it easy to linger in the safety of the games they play.

It's almost ironic, how territory that felt so uncharted has become welcome and fun with Balthier. He's made navigating a dynamic she would have never pictured herself being so fond of one of the best parts about being here, and in return, bolstered by his enthusiasm for it, Aerith feels encouraged to keep pushing the envelope and testing the boundaries these games, investigating where else they might lead. The joy she gets from his enjoyment isn't a simple feeling, but when they're together it's easy not to try and turn over the matter and instead live in the moment and be happy making him gasp or smile while ignoring the things that urge her on.

Motivated by that double-edged want, she encourages him to follow her to the sauna, stepping up this new game of mutual voyeurism and restraint by adding a wildcard she's quite certain Balthier wouldn't have expected until she told him about the kinds of things she's experienced in there. While the first time had begun awkward and turned out to be oddly thrilling - in part due to the presence of someone she hadn't known until this place forced her to get to know them - with Balthier, she was almost looking forward to it. Watching one another has become part of their games, and remarks about it have flown between them in moments passionate enough to make her want to try this, curious how either of them will do.

"We'll see," she murmurs coyly against his jaw after he pulls her close inside the sauna, her fingers brushing his hair back as she rises onto her toes enough to lean into him a little more fully, aware that they're both taking the chance to touch each other before the game starts all over again. "I think you might be the one doing all the begging, my pirate." She shifts against the hand he keeps on his ass, while a pair of unseen hands, as if on cue, ghost over his, pressing down to encourage him to tighten that grip before they're trailing over Aerith's hip and around Balthier's before the barest whisper of a caress teases his asscheeks before brushing against the underside of his balls.

Aerith squirms while looking around the room with a smirk on her face. "Hello again to you too," she says to the open air as she steps out of Balthier's arms, gasping as invisible fingertips pinch at her nipples in response. Her cheeks flush, looking back at him with her eyebrows raised. "Good luck!"

[portolan]

For a moment, the hand in his hair makes him think of that afternoon in the field and his breath catches. He hasn't let himself think about it too much, but it creeps in more often than he'd admit.

His mind snaps back when something presses onto his hand, causing him to dig his fingers more deeply into her ass. He sees her shudder a breath before something slides down his ass and under his balls, yelping slightly, though not unpleasantly.

It would seem she has the advantage, knowing how this works, though he's historically more patient. A fair match, all said.

It's seeing her gasp with no idea what caused it that really gets him.

She bids him good luck and he takes up on the side opposite of her, leaning on the seating area at an angle he knows is good, one knee propped up. "You could just forfeit," he suggests. "Come kneel for me and take my cock in your mouth -- I know how much you enjoy that." As he says it, he runs a hand slowly down his already hard length -- gods he really let her lead him around outside like that -- before lifting the fingers of his other hand to suck on them slowly. However, the seductiveness of this is called into question as the spirits clench down on his hand, dragging it down his length with more force than he was ready for, turning his hum into a moan. They aren't leaving her out of the fun, something plowing cool air against Aerith's opening as she settles in.

[floresco]

The chill brush of air against her makes Aerith straighten after she takes a seat across from Balthier, color rising to her cheeks as she takes a deep breath to steel her resolve. As she sees it, they both stand an equal chance of giving in - he is hard to resist on a regular day, but she's gotten very good at pushing his buttons. The spirits, too, seem intent on pushing Balthier's buttons, an invisible hand cupping his balls while he works his hand down his length. Enjoying the way that he touches himself, Aerith sits back on the bench, her thighs spreading a little wider as something cups her breasts, kneading them gently between brief tugs to her nipples.

Biting her lip she shakes her head at Balthier's suggestion, biting back a moan as she parts her folds for him, only to have her clit stroked rhythmically by the same chilly touch that had teased around her entrance moments ago. "Would you be thinking about how they're touching me while I sucked your cock?" Something pressing at her entrance makes Aerith's hips rock forward, compelled by the thought of giving Balthier something hard to resist just watching.

Invisible hands tease their way around the head of his cock before guiding him to stroke himself a little faster before tugging at his nipples.

[portolan]

There's something jarring and weirdly pleasant about the phantom touches. With absolutely no visual warning, he has no idea what sensations are going to happen. Knowing the same is happening to Aerith makes him hot, eyes raking over her trying to figure out how she's been touched, even as he flinches and moans agains the hands on him.

"I would," he agrees, something cupping his balls and twirling around his head, causing him to grunt. "Have your lips all the way to my base, then lurch toward me because something's pushed itself down your ass." The spirits seem to enjoy the ideas, a pressure dipping into Aerith's hole. "Look at your nipples -- are you wishing it was my teeth? Or maybe that beautiful chain you bought?"

He licks his finger tips for her, coming to swirl them against his nipples, but the tugging sensation at his cock pulls him forward, eyelids fluttering. Fuck he wishes that were her, and it's not helped by her hips rocking like that.

"Are you thinking about the day you begged me to give you orders?" His cock jumps at that and he grins, thrilled to recall how much they both enjoyed it.

[floresco]

The steady strokes against her clit pull another moan from her, as Aerith's hand shifts, moving from keeping her folds parted down to her entrance where she slides two fingers inside herself, rocking against them, and that maddening pressure teasing at her ass, her eyes roving over his body, lingering on the sight of his cock as he strokes himself before going to his face. "Maybe they'll fill your ass while I suck your cock too, and have us both while I make you come like that. Do you like it when I moan while you're in my mouth?"

Another idea for the spirits to run with, and they do, an invisible finger slowly working itself around Balthier's entrance while Aerith looks on, driving her fingers into herself, the feeling of something pressing into her ass making her cry out. "They liked that idea," she manages in a ragged whimper.

His question makes her grin crookedly, sucking in a sharp breath before she reaches up to run a hand over her breast. "I bet you are. I remember how much you liked making me sit on the dresser and play with myself for you." It had been a strange compulsion at the time, to offer up control to him for a change, but it was a decision that. "I bet you're thinking about leaving fresh marks all over me right now." Her fingers catch her nipple, tugging it some as the ghostly presence pressing against Balthier's rim delves a little further.

impatient florist menaces local man

[floresco]

So, you're coming back to the house soon right? And you're bringing all your stuff?

[portolan]

Aerith I've been gone 27 minutes

[floresco]

28 actually, and that's not an answer!

[portolan]

Did you want it in writing? Sure you aren't a pirate?
I'm coming back, with my things, which I fully expect you will snoop through.
I'll take the room next to yours, but I intend to fall asleep with you as often as you'll allow me to.
I know you're going to steal my drawings, so as payment you can let me draw you.

[floresco]

[ Heck that's cute. ]

I'm not going to snoop!
That's going to be a lot of nights sleeping with me.
Can I draw you too?

[portolan]

Yes you are, when you have been invited in and see something new. You can't help yourself.

You draw?

;)

[floresco]

It's late enough in the evening that Aerith's sobered up enough not to be giggling her way through every song on the very strange playlist Tifa managed to get for the party. The music's still going, but as she heads up the stairs to her room it quiets enough that she can hear Balthier down the hall telling a couple of partygoers that the two other rooms aren't up for grabs. The sound makes her smile, as do the retreating footfalls of the pair as they head back downstairs.

She grabs something off her dresser and hides it behind her back before tiptoeing down the hall to peer into his bedroom, a grin on her face.

"But what if I want the penis bed?"

[portolan]

He hears the footsteps approach, but they're hardly the first, and he's had enough of his drink to be relaxed. He's paging through some of his drawings, ones from the first few weeks here, and it's not til Aerith speaks that he realizes who it is.

"You always get what you want, love," he beams, the endearment still new enough to make happy heat prickle in his cheeks. That and how mischievous she is peering around the doorway. "You'll have to fight me for it, though."

[floresco]

"Fight you?" She steps further inside, keeping the box behind her back and out of sight while she beams, still as happy that he's so close as she was the day he moved into the house.

"I would say I don't think wrestling the birthday girl is encouraged, but given the way this place is," Aerith trails off, waving her free hand as she gives him a little wink.

"Don't you want your present?"

[portolan]

"Well now we've thrown aside all the birthday rules," he laughs, closing the space between them only to put his hands around her rib cage, tugging her to him. "Wrestling the birthday girl, who is apparently the one giving out presents. Pray tell, what more could you give me than your beaming face?"

He dips his head to kiss her, deeper than he had downstairs, humming happily as his hands tighten on her.

[floresco]

She leans into him when he kisses her, humming happily against his lips as she brings her free hand up to run through his hair, holding onto this embrace for a moment before she breaks away to smile at him.

"I get to do what I want today, and what I want is to give you this." Aerith draws back just enough to be able to bring the box around and offer it to him. The box is about as long as a shoebox, but not as high, and contains the set of art supplies she requested from the prison's commissary with him in mind.

[portolan]

She's right, of course, and he's ready to say as much, accepting the box and fully expecting some sort of toy or restraint she wants used on one of them.

His smirk falls away to open-mouthed shock as he opens the box. "Aerith--" His fingers glean over the pencils and charcoal, all good quality. These can't have been cheap. This time he kisses her like he doesn't have words, folding her into his hold. "I have something for you too," he says when he breaks away.

He carefully sets the supplies on the dresser, then goes to the closet. It isn't wrapped, but he brings it back to her all the same. It's three drawings she liked, an airship in the middle and plants on the side, in a rough frame he made from gathered wood.