There's something pointedly different in the way she kisses his palm and the way they both murmur each other's name as their bodies slide together. He refuses to dwell on it, refuses to let anything else tonight occupy his mind that isn't just contentment at her being near. As she holds him and rocks so sweetly against him, the moisture that's been threatening all night finally, silently rolls down the corner of his eyes, not sad, not painful, just release.
The way she kisses him, though, he wants to just cradle her and convince her that it's alright, she's alright. "Shh," he coos back, thumb stroking her cheek. "I've got you. I'm not going anywhere." Did it scare her that much when his mind went away? He can't fix that, but he can be so present with her now. She breaks off their kiss, hands roving, and he sighs so happily, humming into the gentle kisses on his face. His touch mirrors hers, fingers trailing down her sides and rubbing up her back, firm and steady.
That jagged energy is still tense in her body though. He'd meant to give her control by having her on top of him, but now he thinks what she needs is just to be taken care of. Holding their bodies together, he rolls them without leaving her warm folds, kissing her forehead and cheeks as he rocks into her, still slow but letting some of his weight pin her down, one arm resettling the blankets around them both. She's so small, and he wants to build a cocoon around her, keep everything painful away.
Balthier moves to swap their positions, and Aerith lets herself go along willingly, content to be pressed back against the bed while covered so completely by his larger frame. Her legs wrap around his hips loosely, enough to keep him close to her while still giving him space to move. One arm stays around his shoulders as she arches her back, pressing herself against him, kissing along his throat before her mouth finds his again. "You feel perfect," Aerith whispers into that kiss, reveling in how warm and close he is, how completely he fills her.
Her hips meet his as he moves, tipping towards him, encouraging his thrusts, wordlessly urging him deeper into her. The thought that it's been a while since she's been with someone like this, not because of some drink, some suggestive room, or some weirdness in the air, but because she wants to, wants them comes and goes, her focus too centered on the feel of his body and the expression on his face to let it linger for long.
Aerith's free hand cradles Balthier's cheek, a soft whimper escaping her as her bright eyes sweep over his face, the corners of her lips curving into a dazed, wonderstruck smile.
Her legs up around his middle is lovely, giving him room to maneuver and feeling warm and comforting. When she arches against him, he catches her up, squeezing her tight and tilting his head as she kisses the column of his throat. It's only a few moments before his lips look for hers again, wanting that sense of connectedness more than any specific stimulation.
"Good," he whispers back, afraid to say more because he's having similar thoughts. How long has it been since he just wanted to be close to someone? What does it mean that he wants to now? She's whimpering for him, though, and her face is so dazed and happy and that's all he can think about, smiling just as dazedly back as he uses their adjusted angle to thrust deep into her and pull back slowly.
"Gods, Aerith, you are unbelievably stunning," he murmurs between kisses. She feels so good, and he wants to draw this out forever, just wrapped in each other feeling wonderful. Their perfect rocking is starting to pull moans from him, and he breaks off their kisses to bury his face in her neck for a moment, one hand coming to her breast the way she likes.
Like him, she's in no rush to bring this to its natural conclusion, everything in this nest of blankets fills her senses, chasing out the chill of the night, and the larger, overhanging bleakness that comes with being confined in this prison. Whatever it means to find so much respite and comfort in doing this with someone can remain unexplored for now. For once, she doesn't want to reach for his buttons and push them, or crack a joke and disarm him by making him smile, things are, as she told him - perfect like this, and it's more than she expected and more than enough to soothe the raw edges left behind from the incident out in the field.
Her fingers run down the sides of his neck, the compliment he gives her pulling a breathless laugh from her while she leans in, kissing the underside of his chin before he's hiding his face in her hair and she's wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a hug. The slow, deep, cadence of the rhythm he moves his hips with quietly works away at her resolve, sending waves of pleasure through her, her nerves seeming to sing in response, compelling her to move with him, gasping each time he sinks back into her, leaving her rocking against his cock as he fills her.
"Balthier," she gasps, her hands moving down his body, grasping hold of his hips as her legs tighten around him, making him still while his cock's pressed inside her. "Stop, stop," she breathes, smiling broadly as her mouth claims his again. "Stay like this for a second, I don't want it to end yet." She's not sure how long she can make it last like this, he's already urged her past the point where she's already beginning to ache for more of that delicious movement, but Aerith's determined to make it wait while she takes in every detail of this moment, committing it to memory.
There's nothing more perfect he could imagine than the way she gasps and arches against him, moving to meet him even as she kisses against him, dazzling him with smiles and happy whimpers. Her walls begin to contract around him and he moans back. He keeps true to his intention to go slow, but there's no denying the tingling heat as they move toward tipping, and his fingers knead into her breast in search of her sighs of pleasure.
When she clamps around him, pleading for him to stop and wait, he can't help but chuckle lowly. There's a heady mix of pride and relief at how easy it was to get her so close to orgasm, how close he is. "Let me look at you then," he murmurs back, stilling his hips when he's full inside her, loving they way they twitch against each other. He brushes that long, gorgeous hair from her face, spilled out around her to where the blankets cover both of them. He sighs, knuckle running down her cheek, having to focus a little to keep his hips from rocking of their own accord and not quite succeeding.
"I'm so glad I went to that silly shop that morning," he tells her with a smile that's bright and warm, eyelids heavy as he takes her in. "And I'm so glad I'm here with you now." He leans down to kiss her again, letting his weight press against her torso, his fingers tangling up into her hair. There's no game, no push to overwhelm her, he just can't keep away from how badly he wants to touch ever piece of her and chase away anything that isn't beautiful comfort.
Aerith props herself up on an elbow, happy to grant that request as it means she gets to do the same to him, eagerly drinking in the sight of his face as he brushes her hair back while he looks her over. "You're always so beautiful," she whispers before dipping her head to kiss his shoulder, pressing her cheek against his skin after, her eyes returning to his face.
Her hips give a little twitch of their own accord as she hangs on his every word, the tips of her fingers tracing his collar as the smile on her face goes wider. "I treasure you, and all the time we've had together." Before being taken from her home she talked a lot about making the most of the time she had, and while here things are so different, that much remains true, especially with him.
The arm around his shoulder tenses as he presses against her, pulling him to her, effectively squishing her body to his in her relentless pursuit of closeness. "It's wonderful," she begins between kisses. "You being here." He's warm and solid, and she's caught up in how good it feels to have him like this, tangled up together.
"You always look at me like I'm not quite real," he whispers back, loving the way he always catches her gaze on him and knowing he does the same to her. He scratches the back of her scalp as she curls into his shoulder, sliding his arm all the way around her as she looks up at him and shivering as she traces his collar bone. Her hips twitch and he can't help the way he grinds against her in response, chuckling placidly at the way their bodies can't quite stay still.
And here she is, giving him more sweet words that leave his mind reeling. She's not the sort to offer them emptily, and all he can do his hold close to her, kissing her with renewed vigor as she holds fast to him. "You're making it very hard to wait," he teases between kisses, trying to keep his hips still but unable to do anything about his cock tensing and throbbing inside her or the way he feels her clench around him. Then he sighs, cradling her to him, just laying his cheek against hers for a moment. "I'm so glad we can have this." The 'after tonight's events' is left unsaid, but by now he thinks it's clear how worried they both were.
She grins at the remark, snuggling against him before she presses her lips against his earlobe to whisper to him. "You're always better than real." Kissing his cheek after she speaks she leans back and looks at his face, her breath catching when he moves to meet the way her body instinctively urges her hips further.
Breathing out a laugh, she loosens her thighs hold on his hips, rolling herself against him with a soft moan. "Is this better?" The way he throbs against her walls makes it impossible to go still again, both hands coming up to cradle his face as she kisses him again and again, not allowing him to answer that question.
Her whisper at her earlobe makes him shiver against her, and he hums into her charming compliment. That's a good way to describe what they have. And then all his thoughts fall out of his head because she's moving against him and making that gorgeous face.
She rolls against him again and he moans in return. Any resolve he tries to hold onto is gone as she's cradling his face and kissing him, and it's all he can do to kiss her back and let his hips roll back against her. It's a dance, really, one with no clear leader, and he loves it. And gods, she feels good bucking back against him, kissing his face joyously and almost possessively. Gasping her name between kisses, he tries to keep slow but his movements become quicker and firmer.
Blissfully caught between him and the mattress, Aerith feels that familiar, blissful tension coiling deep within her core as her body moves with his. She can feel the way his rhythm changes, the way the slow press of his thrusts quickens when he drives into her, signaling that he too is edging towards release.
That rising urgency spurs her on, crying out each time she brings herself against him, eager to feel him press into her to the hilt each time she feels his cock fill her, the sound of him whispering her name driving her on. Lips parting she smothers a moan against his mouth, her tongue brushing against his as she feels herself shiver against him, the slick heat of her walls tightening around his length, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm begin to zing through her body.
Having her come undone beneath him, trusting him to bring her quietly to bliss fills him with such contentment. Urgency builds in him as well, but it's secondary to the need to see her reach release. Of course, that only feeds back in, because hearing her moan as he fills her is giving him a high he hasn't felt before, even with her. He keeps his lips close to hers, shuddering back as she shivers against him, her tongue seeking him out like she can't get enough of him. He meets her, as he knows he will in all things, tongue brushing back against hers before he bites lightly on her lower lip. His hands drift down to hold her hips so he can crush into her just a little faster.
Her cunt starts to flutter against him. His lips part in a moan and he pulls his head back just enough to watch her as he pushes her into orgasm, that beautiful face twisting in ecstasy as her breath comes jagged and her body starts to arch and lock to the rhythm of his hips and his whispers of her name.
Somewhere in all that, he tips over too, his sounds changing to something half-strangled as he curls back over her, hips moving like he can't get deep enough into her, body shivering against the clamping of her walls until he cries out too, holding her tight to him as he freezes, white heat pouring through him and into her perfect hold. For a perfect moment, their bodies are one.
Then he's breathing again, moving, and he doesn't let her go, nuzzling against her and letting the haphazard thrusts of aftershock roll through them both. "Aerith," he murmurs, hot and dizzy and so at peace, knowing she's still sensitive so close after orgasm. He continues to rock slowly against her, slowly stilling to just sit inside her a little longer, weight covering her like a blanket. "This is how I want to make you feel."
After his hands grab hold of her hips, enabling him to drive into her faster Aerith cries out, one hand tangling into his hair, holding him in that voracious kiss until the sensations building through her become too much to ignore, leaving her with her head tipped back, whimpering his name. The tension cording through her, keeping her tight around his cock and arched flush against him, finally snaps in a rush of shuddering bliss. Her legs tighten around him as she forces herself to open her eyes and meet his hungry gaze as he watches her climax light up her face and guide the raggedness of her movements.
His cock throbs against her walls, the urgency of his movements rising to a fever pitch before the heat of his release fills her, encouraging fresh waves of pleasure to sweep over her senses. "Balthier," his name is a breathless whimper, soft but tight on her lips, punctuated by a throaty groan that tapers off to blissful silence as they collapse together.
Aerith wraps both arms around him, the slowing ebb of his hips keeping her gasping until he goes still and lets her catch her breath, basking in the heat from their bodies and the way he stays buried inside her even in the wake of their orgasms.
Color high on her face as she listens to him speak, still lost to this wonderful haze of feeling she leans up to kiss him in answer. "You do," she whispers earnestly, knowing the response doesn't do how she feels justice at all. "Balthier, this is perfect."
He hums against her, the vibration no doubt carrying against her skin as the last of the rolling movements pass through them both. "You're perfect," he murmurs back, just as breathless at the way she whimpered his name and clings to him as he is at having emptied himself in her.
For a few minutes, they fall into pleasant silence, his fingers gently stroking her skin as they stay pressed together, putting gentle kisses wherever he can reach, just enjoying being close to her and still entangled in one another.
As his cock softens, he pulls his hips away, sighing happily as they part. "Give me a minute," he says with another kiss and disentangles, slipping into the cold to go retrieve a towel. He wipes himself off, returning to hand it to her before sliding back into their nest of warmth and blankets and bare skin. "Come here," he says, leaving her hands free to clean up but pulling her back against him, kissing her hair like it's been days since he saw her last.
Aerith laughs softly and shakes her head, her hands sliding up his shoulders before combing through his hair, pushing it back from his face as she smiles lopsidedly up at him. "You're perfect," she insists quietly before drawing him close enough to kiss his cheek and cuddle up to him again.
A noise of objection escapes her when he pulls back, sliding out of her before climbing out of bed. Frowning after him, Aerith waits in the mound of blankets until he returns with a towel, her displeasure instantly turning to appreciation. She doesn't wait once she's cleaned up, tossing the towel off to the side to get in close, pushing gently at his shoulders. "Lay back, it's my turn to be the blanket."
Soft and dozy though she may be, she still looks eager when after he's laying on his back, she moves to climb over him, draping herself across his chest and along his body with a grin on her face, her elbow resting lightly on the mattress beside him as she props her chin on her hand and looks at him. "You are full of surprises Balthier."
Some part of him had wondered if this would all evaporate when they finished. Her clear displeasure at his leaving pulls a smile from him, which only widens when her face lights up at his return. It fleetingly occurs to him she may have thought he was leaving — he of course was not, so it hadn’t crossed his mind, but he tucks that information away.
And when she pushes him back, he laughs with delight, complying readily. “So you just like ordering me around, is it?” His grin is just as wide, and he loops his arms loosely around her as she settles herself over him, stroking her beautiful skin and adjusting his position to look right back at her.
Maybe he should be concerned about how stupidly happy he is just to have her like this and grin like an idiot at her, but whether it’s wise self preservation or just giddy single mindedness, he’s not. This is the best he’s felt since arriving in this damned place. Maybe longer, which really is too big of a thought to acknowledge. So instead he slides a hand down to cup her ass, tilting his head to kiss her face. “So are you, Aerith, and it’s intoxicating.”
Exhaustion is hanging just beneath the euphoria, but the thought of spending the night with her in this nest of warmth is so calming that he’s not fighting it.
Humming out a little laugh at his question, Aerith shrugs a shoulder evasively, raising her eyebrows at him. "Sometimes you even listen!" Leaning in, she wrinkles her nose before her lips press against his in a brief kiss, her fingers fanning against his cheek.
She's been with others here, like Anna, who she's been comfortable enough to cuddle and laugh with after fooling around, but this still feels like a departure from that. Aerith has a deep appreciation for Balthier's friendship, but this feels different - like if she tried hard enough she would be able to forget their circumstances and enjoy this as nothing more than a great night with a sweet, wonderful guy. It feels like they've forgotten to be prisoners long enough to sink into being people together, and it's hard not to want more of that.
Her fingers trace along the side of his face before descending to his chest, tracing abstract patterns on his skin. "I guess you're going to have to see me a lot then, to make sure you're getting your fill."
"I object. I listen extremely well except when I have a better idea for how to please you." Gods it's cute how she wrinkles her nose and it's almost hard to close his lips to return her kiss through his grin.
He hasn't quite put the thought together, but that's exactly what this is: forgetting to be prisoners and getting to be people together. Even before all this, outside Fran hardly anyone saw past his guile to the person behind it. Aerith barely knows him, all things considered, and yet he feels naked with her in the best possible way.
She's snuggled up against him, her weight warm and reassuring, and he can't think of anything he wants more as her touch wanders down his body. He hums happily even before her invitation. Heat spreads across his cheeks as his fingers smooth through her hair. "I guess I will," he agrees, almost disbelieving that she's asking that of him, allowing it, really. And yet he knows that he's already eager to see her again, mind pleased to have the helps she needs with the house as a pretense to see her.
"All the ideas you have about how to please me is one of my favorite things about you," among others - something she realizes as she says it.
The night has ended so much better than it began that it almost pains her to even so much as elude to what happened before they came here. As soft and beautiful as Balthier's made everything feel, there's still a nagging concern darkening the corners of her otherwise dazed and content thoughts. It makes her duck her head down, resting it against his chest as the hand tracing along his skin moves down to rest against his heart, eyes ticking upward to peer at him from this angle.
His hand comes to wrap around hers as he exhales, her body moving with the force of it. He doesn't want to think about it either, but it's there, and is going to be there waiting when he doesn't have her to warm and distract him.
"I think so," he says honestly. "Very much thanks to you." He smoothes her hair away from her face, gently guiding it all to one side as he looks at her. It's impossible to tell for certain, not until time passes, but he suspects it will be easier to quiet with the way he was so beautifully cared for after. That wasn't something those old memories had attached at all.
"Let's think of prettier things tonight, hmm?" he asks. "Like the luxury of a double bed and good company."
They stay awake awhile longer, murmuring and snuggling together, until the exhaustion catches up and claims them both. Whenever he wakes in the night, it isn't for long, just enough to resettle around her and place a few sleepy kisses on her shoulders or head. At some point that waking is in the quiet light of morning, and sleepy kisses grow longer until they're tangled together again, slow sweet sex still somehow swelling to crescendo too quickly.
Eventually they grow hungry and thirsty and all the other damnable human needs that break their perfect cocoon. But as he gathers his clothes, Aerith makes it clear he's welcome back shortly, and some odd dance of conversation produces a sideways agreement of bringing back safe meat to cook and helping with some fence or or broken floor or whatever it was she said because he's distracted by how much she's smiling.
He's gone longer than he means, having trouble finding Fran and needing to clean his clothes. By the time he's laying his delivery of meat on Aerith's counter, freshly showered and dressed, he's feeling almost shy at being back here, wondering at having only just been here that morning.
"We've another hour or two of daylight," he grins at her. "How are you going to put me to use?"
Though she doesn't wake up all the way when he rouses during the night, there are a few times the kisses he dusts against her shoulder are met with a few mumbled, affectionate words while she adjusts her hold on him and plants sleepy kisses against the side of his face.
The close proximity she maintains in her sleep is renewed all over again in the morning when she wakes up for real and finds him as wonderful in the early light of day as he had been last night. Getting lost in Balthier proved to be as good a way to wake up as it was a way to fall asleep, and it's only because she wants to take a bath and properly wash her hair that she lets him leave that afternoon. The state of the house she's been given isn't ideal, but it gives her lots of material to work with while she's coming up with excuses for him to return, feeling it very important for reasons Aerith isn't addressing right now that she offers him ones that aren't - I already want to see you again even though you're still here.
The smile on her face stays where it is as she goes through her afternoon, first cleaning herself up before turning her attention to tidying her room, ignoring the way her cheeks flush every time she spares a glance towards the rumpled blankets piled on the mattresses in the corner.
By the time he comes back she's made her way downstairs, resuming the ongoing task of getting the kitchen into some kind of shape when he returns with a giant hunk of dinner.
"Oh wow," she perks up from the far end of the room, where she's been using a broom to sweep out a pantry. "Usually, I prefer flowers, but, I'm starving." Aerith crosses the room to where Balthier stands, her hand resting on the small of his back as she smiles up at him, his question pulling a little chuckle from her. As always, it's not that difficult to imagine things Balthier could do that would be very useful.
"I've got a trellis outside that needs to be attached to the top of the fence, and," she tips her head towards him. "Since you are my favorite tall, handsome friend..."
The touch to his back is not expected, and yet he leans into it like it's familiar, smiling at her surprise. "We've found this one has better flavor. Also, knock on wood, not aphrodisiac surprises thus far."
Not that he'd mind in the given company, but he also cherishes all their sober time together deeply. And he's still a little stunned they've had sex technically three times in less than a day, even if one was not ideal.
"Am I not your only tall, handsome friend?" he teases lightly, enjoying that their games extend to playful conversation. It's just...easy to be with her. "Lead the way. Unless you want me to cook this first."
She tilts her head to the side coyly at the question, doing what she can to keep the smile on her face from evolving into a full-fledged grin. "Well, you're my tallest, handsomest friend. That counts right?"
Even though Aerith is no expert on these things, she can tell that the situation between them has changed, the word friend feeling like a more awkward fit than it did this time yesterday. It's something she wants to be careful with, as unsure of what to make of it as she is, so she stops herself before she says anything more damning, like telling him he's her favorite friend.
"You're going to cook for me too?" Her eyes widen, and she takes a step towards the door, the hand on his back leading him along. "I guess there's no way around inviting you to stay for dinner then, huh?" As though she would even consider doing otherwise.
"Now I'm trying to recall if you are my shortest friend. I think you are. Even if I don't remember you that way." No, friend doesn't entirely fit, but he isn't going to dwell on it. It doesn't fit for Fran either. That's...kind of like what this is. Closeness that's hard to pinpoint or explain.
Perhaps he's misstepped in offering to cook for her, even if his grin at her inviting him to stay is quick and wide. "Alas, I'm a snob about food. Have I managed to hide this from you? Must be why you like me so much -- haven't found any of my flaws yet."
Making a face at being called short, Aerith leans sideways enough to bump her hip against him lightly. "You're definitely the biggest pirate I know," she chides playfully, looking towards him with a roll of her eyes.
"You never told me that, but, I figured you must live a pretty fancy life." Her hand falls away from his back, catching his hand briefly to tug him towards the fence once they step outside. "That room at the palace, remember? You said it looked like your ship."
Aerith stops after they reach the fence, gesturing towards a salvaged square of latticed wood. "If you can hang it up there for me, my moonflowers will have somewhere to go," she points towards a stout nail sticking out of the high hanging top of the fencepost before her hand goes to her hip, fixing him with a smirk. "Then I'll let you cook dinner for me."
"Are all the pirates small where you come from?" he asks, ignoring how pleased he is with the warmth of being bumped like that. "Fran's taller than me even without her ears. And you'd make an excellent pirate, I wager."
He follows her fluidly, momentarily distracted when she takes his hand and by the words that followed. For some reason, he's touched that she remembers, and maybe a little uncertain about what she knows about him. It hadn't really mattered that night, but now it feels like maybe it does.
"I've lived a life of finery and one of very little resources," he shrugs, drawing much less attention to it than he feels. "I prefer nice things when I can get them. Like my ship."
The lattice gives him safer territory to navigate, and it's easy enough to lift the lattice and maneuver it onto the nail. He's done significantly harder under significantly more pressure and less light. "Moon flowers, hmm? Are they special?"
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The way she kisses him, though, he wants to just cradle her and convince her that it's alright, she's alright. "Shh," he coos back, thumb stroking her cheek. "I've got you. I'm not going anywhere." Did it scare her that much when his mind went away? He can't fix that, but he can be so present with her now. She breaks off their kiss, hands roving, and he sighs so happily, humming into the gentle kisses on his face. His touch mirrors hers, fingers trailing down her sides and rubbing up her back, firm and steady.
That jagged energy is still tense in her body though. He'd meant to give her control by having her on top of him, but now he thinks what she needs is just to be taken care of. Holding their bodies together, he rolls them without leaving her warm folds, kissing her forehead and cheeks as he rocks into her, still slow but letting some of his weight pin her down, one arm resettling the blankets around them both. She's so small, and he wants to build a cocoon around her, keep everything painful away.
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Her hips meet his as he moves, tipping towards him, encouraging his thrusts, wordlessly urging him deeper into her. The thought that it's been a while since she's been with someone like this, not because of some drink, some suggestive room, or some weirdness in the air, but because she wants to, wants them comes and goes, her focus too centered on the feel of his body and the expression on his face to let it linger for long.
Aerith's free hand cradles Balthier's cheek, a soft whimper escaping her as her bright eyes sweep over his face, the corners of her lips curving into a dazed, wonderstruck smile.
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"Good," he whispers back, afraid to say more because he's having similar thoughts. How long has it been since he just wanted to be close to someone? What does it mean that he wants to now? She's whimpering for him, though, and her face is so dazed and happy and that's all he can think about, smiling just as dazedly back as he uses their adjusted angle to thrust deep into her and pull back slowly.
"Gods, Aerith, you are unbelievably stunning," he murmurs between kisses. She feels so good, and he wants to draw this out forever, just wrapped in each other feeling wonderful. Their perfect rocking is starting to pull moans from him, and he breaks off their kisses to bury his face in her neck for a moment, one hand coming to her breast the way she likes.
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Her fingers run down the sides of his neck, the compliment he gives her pulling a breathless laugh from her while she leans in, kissing the underside of his chin before he's hiding his face in her hair and she's wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a hug. The slow, deep, cadence of the rhythm he moves his hips with quietly works away at her resolve, sending waves of pleasure through her, her nerves seeming to sing in response, compelling her to move with him, gasping each time he sinks back into her, leaving her rocking against his cock as he fills her.
"Balthier," she gasps, her hands moving down his body, grasping hold of his hips as her legs tighten around him, making him still while his cock's pressed inside her. "Stop, stop," she breathes, smiling broadly as her mouth claims his again. "Stay like this for a second, I don't want it to end yet." She's not sure how long she can make it last like this, he's already urged her past the point where she's already beginning to ache for more of that delicious movement, but Aerith's determined to make it wait while she takes in every detail of this moment, committing it to memory.
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When she clamps around him, pleading for him to stop and wait, he can't help but chuckle lowly. There's a heady mix of pride and relief at how easy it was to get her so close to orgasm, how close he is. "Let me look at you then," he murmurs back, stilling his hips when he's full inside her, loving they way they twitch against each other. He brushes that long, gorgeous hair from her face, spilled out around her to where the blankets cover both of them. He sighs, knuckle running down her cheek, having to focus a little to keep his hips from rocking of their own accord and not quite succeeding.
"I'm so glad I went to that silly shop that morning," he tells her with a smile that's bright and warm, eyelids heavy as he takes her in. "And I'm so glad I'm here with you now." He leans down to kiss her again, letting his weight press against her torso, his fingers tangling up into her hair. There's no game, no push to overwhelm her, he just can't keep away from how badly he wants to touch ever piece of her and chase away anything that isn't beautiful comfort.
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Her hips give a little twitch of their own accord as she hangs on his every word, the tips of her fingers tracing his collar as the smile on her face goes wider. "I treasure you, and all the time we've had together." Before being taken from her home she talked a lot about making the most of the time she had, and while here things are so different, that much remains true, especially with him.
The arm around his shoulder tenses as he presses against her, pulling him to her, effectively squishing her body to his in her relentless pursuit of closeness. "It's wonderful," she begins between kisses. "You being here." He's warm and solid, and she's caught up in how good it feels to have him like this, tangled up together.
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And here she is, giving him more sweet words that leave his mind reeling. She's not the sort to offer them emptily, and all he can do his hold close to her, kissing her with renewed vigor as she holds fast to him. "You're making it very hard to wait," he teases between kisses, trying to keep his hips still but unable to do anything about his cock tensing and throbbing inside her or the way he feels her clench around him. Then he sighs, cradling her to him, just laying his cheek against hers for a moment. "I'm so glad we can have this." The 'after tonight's events' is left unsaid, but by now he thinks it's clear how worried they both were.
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Breathing out a laugh, she loosens her thighs hold on his hips, rolling herself against him with a soft moan. "Is this better?" The way he throbs against her walls makes it impossible to go still again, both hands coming up to cradle his face as she kisses him again and again, not allowing him to answer that question.
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She rolls against him again and he moans in return. Any resolve he tries to hold onto is gone as she's cradling his face and kissing him, and it's all he can do to kiss her back and let his hips roll back against her. It's a dance, really, one with no clear leader, and he loves it. And gods, she feels good bucking back against him, kissing his face joyously and almost possessively. Gasping her name between kisses, he tries to keep slow but his movements become quicker and firmer.
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That rising urgency spurs her on, crying out each time she brings herself against him, eager to feel him press into her to the hilt each time she feels his cock fill her, the sound of him whispering her name driving her on. Lips parting she smothers a moan against his mouth, her tongue brushing against his as she feels herself shiver against him, the slick heat of her walls tightening around his length, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm begin to zing through her body.
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Her cunt starts to flutter against him. His lips part in a moan and he pulls his head back just enough to watch her as he pushes her into orgasm, that beautiful face twisting in ecstasy as her breath comes jagged and her body starts to arch and lock to the rhythm of his hips and his whispers of her name.
Somewhere in all that, he tips over too, his sounds changing to something half-strangled as he curls back over her, hips moving like he can't get deep enough into her, body shivering against the clamping of her walls until he cries out too, holding her tight to him as he freezes, white heat pouring through him and into her perfect hold. For a perfect moment, their bodies are one.
Then he's breathing again, moving, and he doesn't let her go, nuzzling against her and letting the haphazard thrusts of aftershock roll through them both. "Aerith," he murmurs, hot and dizzy and so at peace, knowing she's still sensitive so close after orgasm. He continues to rock slowly against her, slowly stilling to just sit inside her a little longer, weight covering her like a blanket. "This is how I want to make you feel."
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His cock throbs against her walls, the urgency of his movements rising to a fever pitch before the heat of his release fills her, encouraging fresh waves of pleasure to sweep over her senses. "Balthier," his name is a breathless whimper, soft but tight on her lips, punctuated by a throaty groan that tapers off to blissful silence as they collapse together.
Aerith wraps both arms around him, the slowing ebb of his hips keeping her gasping until he goes still and lets her catch her breath, basking in the heat from their bodies and the way he stays buried inside her even in the wake of their orgasms.
Color high on her face as she listens to him speak, still lost to this wonderful haze of feeling she leans up to kiss him in answer. "You do," she whispers earnestly, knowing the response doesn't do how she feels justice at all. "Balthier, this is perfect."
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For a few minutes, they fall into pleasant silence, his fingers gently stroking her skin as they stay pressed together, putting gentle kisses wherever he can reach, just enjoying being close to her and still entangled in one another.
As his cock softens, he pulls his hips away, sighing happily as they part. "Give me a minute," he says with another kiss and disentangles, slipping into the cold to go retrieve a towel. He wipes himself off, returning to hand it to her before sliding back into their nest of warmth and blankets and bare skin. "Come here," he says, leaving her hands free to clean up but pulling her back against him, kissing her hair like it's been days since he saw her last.
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A noise of objection escapes her when he pulls back, sliding out of her before climbing out of bed. Frowning after him, Aerith waits in the mound of blankets until he returns with a towel, her displeasure instantly turning to appreciation. She doesn't wait once she's cleaned up, tossing the towel off to the side to get in close, pushing gently at his shoulders. "Lay back, it's my turn to be the blanket."
Soft and dozy though she may be, she still looks eager when after he's laying on his back, she moves to climb over him, draping herself across his chest and along his body with a grin on her face, her elbow resting lightly on the mattress beside him as she props her chin on her hand and looks at him. "You are full of surprises Balthier."
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And when she pushes him back, he laughs with delight, complying readily. “So you just like ordering me around, is it?” His grin is just as wide, and he loops his arms loosely around her as she settles herself over him, stroking her beautiful skin and adjusting his position to look right back at her.
Maybe he should be concerned about how stupidly happy he is just to have her like this and grin like an idiot at her, but whether it’s wise self preservation or just giddy single mindedness, he’s not. This is the best he’s felt since arriving in this damned place. Maybe longer, which really is too big of a thought to acknowledge. So instead he slides a hand down to cup her ass, tilting his head to kiss her face. “So are you, Aerith, and it’s intoxicating.”
Exhaustion is hanging just beneath the euphoria, but the thought of spending the night with her in this nest of warmth is so calming that he’s not fighting it.
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She's been with others here, like Anna, who she's been comfortable enough to cuddle and laugh with after fooling around, but this still feels like a departure from that. Aerith has a deep appreciation for Balthier's friendship, but this feels different - like if she tried hard enough she would be able to forget their circumstances and enjoy this as nothing more than a great night with a sweet, wonderful guy. It feels like they've forgotten to be prisoners long enough to sink into being people together, and it's hard not to want more of that.
Her fingers trace along the side of his face before descending to his chest, tracing abstract patterns on his skin. "I guess you're going to have to see me a lot then, to make sure you're getting your fill."
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He hasn't quite put the thought together, but that's exactly what this is: forgetting to be prisoners and getting to be people together. Even before all this, outside Fran hardly anyone saw past his guile to the person behind it. Aerith barely knows him, all things considered, and yet he feels naked with her in the best possible way.
She's snuggled up against him, her weight warm and reassuring, and he can't think of anything he wants more as her touch wanders down his body. He hums happily even before her invitation. Heat spreads across his cheeks as his fingers smooth through her hair. "I guess I will," he agrees, almost disbelieving that she's asking that of him, allowing it, really. And yet he knows that he's already eager to see her again, mind pleased to have the helps she needs with the house as a pretense to see her.
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The night has ended so much better than it began that it almost pains her to even so much as elude to what happened before they came here. As soft and beautiful as Balthier's made everything feel, there's still a nagging concern darkening the corners of her otherwise dazed and content thoughts. It makes her duck her head down, resting it against his chest as the hand tracing along his skin moves down to rest against his heart, eyes ticking upward to peer at him from this angle.
"Balthier, are you really okay?"
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"I think so," he says honestly. "Very much thanks to you." He smoothes her hair away from her face, gently guiding it all to one side as he looks at her. It's impossible to tell for certain, not until time passes, but he suspects it will be easier to quiet with the way he was so beautifully cared for after. That wasn't something those old memories had attached at all.
"Let's think of prettier things tonight, hmm?" he asks. "Like the luxury of a double bed and good company."
They stay awake awhile longer, murmuring and snuggling together, until the exhaustion catches up and claims them both. Whenever he wakes in the night, it isn't for long, just enough to resettle around her and place a few sleepy kisses on her shoulders or head. At some point that waking is in the quiet light of morning, and sleepy kisses grow longer until they're tangled together again, slow sweet sex still somehow swelling to crescendo too quickly.
Eventually they grow hungry and thirsty and all the other damnable human needs that break their perfect cocoon. But as he gathers his clothes, Aerith makes it clear he's welcome back shortly, and some odd dance of conversation produces a sideways agreement of bringing back safe meat to cook and helping with some fence or or broken floor or whatever it was she said because he's distracted by how much she's smiling.
He's gone longer than he means, having trouble finding Fran and needing to clean his clothes. By the time he's laying his delivery of meat on Aerith's counter, freshly showered and dressed, he's feeling almost shy at being back here, wondering at having only just been here that morning.
"We've another hour or two of daylight," he grins at her. "How are you going to put me to use?"
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The close proximity she maintains in her sleep is renewed all over again in the morning when she wakes up for real and finds him as wonderful in the early light of day as he had been last night. Getting lost in Balthier proved to be as good a way to wake up as it was a way to fall asleep, and it's only because she wants to take a bath and properly wash her hair that she lets him leave that afternoon. The state of the house she's been given isn't ideal, but it gives her lots of material to work with while she's coming up with excuses for him to return, feeling it very important for reasons Aerith isn't addressing right now that she offers him ones that aren't - I already want to see you again even though you're still here.
The smile on her face stays where it is as she goes through her afternoon, first cleaning herself up before turning her attention to tidying her room, ignoring the way her cheeks flush every time she spares a glance towards the rumpled blankets piled on the mattresses in the corner.
By the time he comes back she's made her way downstairs, resuming the ongoing task of getting the kitchen into some kind of shape when he returns with a giant hunk of dinner.
"Oh wow," she perks up from the far end of the room, where she's been using a broom to sweep out a pantry. "Usually, I prefer flowers, but, I'm starving." Aerith crosses the room to where Balthier stands, her hand resting on the small of his back as she smiles up at him, his question pulling a little chuckle from her. As always, it's not that difficult to imagine things Balthier could do that would be very useful.
"I've got a trellis outside that needs to be attached to the top of the fence, and," she tips her head towards him. "Since you are my favorite tall, handsome friend..."
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Not that he'd mind in the given company, but he also cherishes all their sober time together deeply. And he's still a little stunned they've had sex technically three times in less than a day, even if one was not ideal.
"Am I not your only tall, handsome friend?" he teases lightly, enjoying that their games extend to playful conversation. It's just...easy to be with her. "Lead the way. Unless you want me to cook this first."
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Even though Aerith is no expert on these things, she can tell that the situation between them has changed, the word friend feeling like a more awkward fit than it did this time yesterday. It's something she wants to be careful with, as unsure of what to make of it as she is, so she stops herself before she says anything more damning, like telling him he's her favorite friend.
"You're going to cook for me too?" Her eyes widen, and she takes a step towards the door, the hand on his back leading him along. "I guess there's no way around inviting you to stay for dinner then, huh?" As though she would even consider doing otherwise.
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Perhaps he's misstepped in offering to cook for her, even if his grin at her inviting him to stay is quick and wide. "Alas, I'm a snob about food. Have I managed to hide this from you? Must be why you like me so much -- haven't found any of my flaws yet."
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"You never told me that, but, I figured you must live a pretty fancy life." Her hand falls away from his back, catching his hand briefly to tug him towards the fence once they step outside. "That room at the palace, remember? You said it looked like your ship."
Aerith stops after they reach the fence, gesturing towards a salvaged square of latticed wood. "If you can hang it up there for me, my moonflowers will have somewhere to go," she points towards a stout nail sticking out of the high hanging top of the fencepost before her hand goes to her hip, fixing him with a smirk. "Then I'll let you cook dinner for me."
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He follows her fluidly, momentarily distracted when she takes his hand and by the words that followed. For some reason, he's touched that she remembers, and maybe a little uncertain about what she knows about him. It hadn't really mattered that night, but now it feels like maybe it does.
"I've lived a life of finery and one of very little resources," he shrugs, drawing much less attention to it than he feels. "I prefer nice things when I can get them. Like my ship."
The lattice gives him safer territory to navigate, and it's easy enough to lift the lattice and maneuver it onto the nail. He's done significantly harder under significantly more pressure and less light. "Moon flowers, hmm? Are they special?"
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