Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge. ❯ Prostitution. ( Chapter 13 )

For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge.

~ A Kitty and Eoko Collaboration Fic.

 

Warnings: >_> More sex. XD Lemon~

 

Disclaimer: We don't own FF8, it belongs to Square, nor do we make any money off this fic.

 

Parings: Duh.

 

Author's Notes:

 

Kitty: Okay... so I lied. It's been more than a week since the last update... but I did tell the truth about Eoko contributing to Author's Notes this time! Here she is! Yay!

 

Eoko: I think they would have prefered a chap sooner.

 

Kitty: Yes, I know... but you know, it's your fault. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't spend my whole life on Pony Island.

 

Eoko: >..> That's true.

 

Kitty: XD Not that I'm complaining. The ponehs are just so addictive. *falls over*

 

Eoko: And I take care of my friendies. ^^

 

Kitty: >_> Especially when they kill ponies. That you gave them. Three times.

 

Eoko: *rolls eyes* You learned.

 

Kitty: Eventually. *dies* Anyway! Enough about ponies. Here is the chapter. AND IT IS EPIC!

 

Chapter 14 - Prostitution.

 

“Irvine?” Javier asked, poking his head around the bars into Seifer's cell.

 

The assassin leaned up onto an elbow and looked over to the dark haired man. “Up here.”

 

Javier entered the cell, smile on his face and a pair of standard issue pants clutched to his chest. He beamed brightly up at the auburn haired inmate as he came over.

 

“I mended the buttons,” he said cheerily, holding the article of clothing up towards Irvine. “It was super easy.”

 

Irvine reached down with his free hand to take the pants. “Yeah, well, I don't expect to need you to, like, do this that often.”

 

“Let's hope Jade feels the same way, then.” Javier giggled and climbed up onto the top bunk.

 

“What are you doin'?” Irvine asked, but moved his feet up and under him all the same.

 

“Coming up to visit you, of course.”

 

“Of course…”

 

The younger inmate got himself comfortable, sitting cross legged at the foot of the bunk. “So, how have you been?”

 

“What? In the miniscule time since I last saw you?”

 

“Mhmm.”

 

“Jade's still an insatiable mother fucker.”

 

Javier giggled and nodded. “They're like that, Ink and him. Things going okay otherwise? No one else is messing with you, are they?”

 

“From what I've heard, anyone would be stupid to mess with me now.”

 

“That mean you're officially Jade's bitch?” the dark haired inmate inquired.

 

“Hell no! But it don't, like, stop the gossip. And with Jade walkin' around like Mister King Dick of the place, that gossip is gettin' accepted pretty dang quick.”

 

“I heard you got caught in the shower by the perverted pair.”

 

“If you mean those fag-hag guards, then yeah. It's like they got a sixth sense for it or somethin'. Don't it piss you off?” Irvine asked, glancing at the younger man.

 

“Mm… not anymore. It used to embarrass the hell out of me. But, one, I've gotten used to it, and two, the way Ink acts when he knows they're there.”

 

“A show off, eh?”

 

“A preening peacock.” Javier giggled. “But I'd never complain.”

 

Irvine made a face, wrinkling his nose. “He can't be all that good.”

 

“Oh, he most certainly is. And you're bound to find out. Jade'll let him have a go at you. Probably only one though. Jade's probably more your type of man anyway, and I wouldn't complain about that either.”

 

Irvine leaned back and regarded the pretty young man. “You actually love him, don't you?”

 

Javier's cheeks turned a powdered pink before he looked down at his lap, smiling softly. “Yeah, I do. It's funny really, meeting the man of my dreams in here.” He waved a hand over his shoulder.

 

“The man of your dreams? Uh-huh.”

 

“Well,” Javier chuckled. “He's a little shorter in person than I expected.”

 

The assassin blinked, then let out a bark of laughter. “That was a good one.”

 

The younger of the two grinned and turned to lean against the wall. “So, we're friends now, right?”

 

- - - - - - -

 

“He says no, but you just know he means yes.”

 

“Ah, the logic twisted dreams are made of.” Zell snickered, switching his weights to the other hand.

 

“Shut up, Ink. He wants to act all tough and in charge, but he belongs on his back. He knows it, and he loves it. Those sounds he makes just beg me to keep going.”

 

“You know, all this talk of Paris on his back is getting me pretty-”

 

“Horny?”

 

“Interested,” Zell clarified, rolling his eyes. “You're the horny bastard around here.”

 

“Maybe, but I'm pretty damn happy too.”

 

“Yea, if you get some. You get pretty damn pissed off if Paris says no.”

 

“Well who in their right mind says no to me?”

 

“When did we ever say Paris was in his right mind?”

 

“Touché.” Seifer chuckled. “Ink.”

 

“Yea, what?”

 

“If you can seduce Paris into your bed, you can take him, once.”

 

Zell arched a brow. “Big, bad Almasy finally gonna share is he?”

 

“Once,” Seifer clarified.

 

“I don't want more'n once. I just wanna know what your big fuss is about. I have Skid and I'm happy with him.”

 

“You're in love with him.”

 

“Details, details.”

 

“Wolves don't fall in love.”

 

“Do you forget I'm not actually a criminal?” Zell asked, arching a brow.

 

Seifer blinked and looked over at the other blond. “Guess I still do sometimes. You sure as hell got the mouth of one.”

 

“Fuck up, Jade.” Zell grinned.

 

“Point proven.” He stood up from the bench he'd been sitting on and stretched. “Come on. We should go shower before dinner.”

 

“Ah, a line like that used to sound so much better before the cowboy-toy showed up.” Zell gave a dramatically fake sigh, then grinned again.

 

“You're an insatiable fuck, Ink. I swear no one else here fucks as much as you. Bottom, top- hell, sandwiched in between if you could get it.”

 

“Ooohh…” Zell looked up in thought.

 

“No,” Seifer jerked his hand to the side. “No three ways you fucking sex-lush.”

 

“Lush my arse. I'm a sexaholic and you know it.”

 

“Wasn't aware that was something to be proud of.”

 

“Hell, `course it is. If you're good at it, why wouldn't it be?” he grinned at Seifer in a way that could only be described as Zellishly. “So, I can really take your bitch for a test drive?”

 

Seifer cocked a brow, the snorted. “If you can get him into bed, go for it. I know you wouldn't force him.”

 

“Nope. Unlike you.”

 

“I never forced him.” Seifer scoffed and made a gesture with one hand.

 

“Right, because `no means yes', right?” Zell smirked and shook his head. “You're more forceful than I am anyway, but that's probably the way Paris likes it.”

 

“Probably? From what I've heard, it's exactly what he likes. Speaking of which, there he is coming out of the block. Gonna go work your “magic”?” Seifer asked, smirking.

 

“Nah. Not yet. Unlike you, I have some restraint.”

 

“`Some' being the appropriate word.”

 

- - - - - - -

 

Zell waited until after dinner to make his move. He leaned against one of the wall-ends that separated the cells and supported the bars, waiting for Irvine to pass by.

 

He smirked to himself, thinking over his plan, and shook his head at the thought of Seifer not believing he could pull it off. Seduction he could do. Slamming someone up against a wall against their will, not so much.

 

The guard lifted his eyes as someone approached, raising his head and grinning widely when he saw it was Irvine. “Hello, Paris.”

 

Irvine glanced at him a mere second and kept on walking. “I know that look.”

 

Zell pushed himself off the wall and took a couple of steps so as to get ahead of the assassin. “Guess that means I don't have to lay out my intentions.”

 

“Lay out whatever you fuckin' well like. No way in hell you could make me scream or beg. For nothin',” Irvine added, glaring the blond down, to no avail.

 

The younger man just shook his head and smiled. “Maybe I should clarify my intentions. I don't want to make you scream or beg.”

 

Irvine lifted his head a touch and looked down his nose at the blond. “No? What do you want to make me do, then?”

 

Zell grinned devilishly before launching into his little speech. “Unlike most of the others, I know what you did to get in here. I know how alone and isolated you have to be to do that. I know how cold you have to be. So I don't want to make you scream or beg. No, that would be too easy-”

 

Irvine snorted but Zell just pushed on, stepping closer and sliding an arm around the hitman's waist. “I want to make you warm. I want to touch you until my fingers start fires over your skin. I want to make you hot just from want. I want you to need it so bad you burn.”

 

The assassin swallowed involuntarily but collected himself again. “Big ego for such a short shit,” he hissed, looking down his nose at the guard again.

 

“I have good reason to have a big ego. Hasn't Skid told you?” Zell grinned, cocking his head to the side slightly.

 

“Like I'd believe anythin' outta the mouth that lives to suck your cock.” Irvine sneered and turned his head aside. “Let go of me.”

 

“Aw, come on now, Paris. Skid don't have any reason to lie, no matter what he does with his mouth. And, think about it,” he said, moving his free hand to the hitman's hip while the other danced up his spine. “I'll treat you like a prince, and once it's done, you'll never have to worry about me again.”

 

Irvine grunted. “Only want me once, hm?”

 

“Only allowed once,” Zell clarified, grinning. “Then you can go back to worrying about Jade jumping you every spare moment.” He ran his hand up into the taller man's hair, causing him to shudder very slightly.

 

“Well… if it'll get you outta my face, I guess I could grit my teeth and bare it for, what? Five, ten minutes?” He smirked until another stroke through his hair made him moan quietly.

 

“Oh, longer than that. Come on then, Paris. This way,” Zell said, sliding his hand down to Irvine's and leading the hitman into his cell. “You really are beautiful.”

 

“I don't, like, need your compliments, Ink. Just get it over with.” Irvine pulled his hand away, heading over to the bunk and laying back.

 

Zell arched a brow. “Nothing but business, hm?” But he didn't mind. Getting him into bed was the tough bit. Getting him to enjoy himself would only take a matter of time.

 

He went over to the bed, shedding his singlet on the way, and settled over the hitman.

 

Irvine allowed himself a quick scan of the guard's body. He was attractive; hard muscles, toned and defined to a perfect firmness, moving fluidly beneath lightly tanned skin. He might have even have had a chance on the outside, had he been a bit taller, that is.

 

The blond grinned, shifting lower on the bunk and bringing his hands to the hem of the inmate's top. He pushed it up his body, head bent to trail kisses and nips up the slowly revealed skin.

 

He grinned as muscles twitched slightly under his oral assault and arms lifted to make the removal of the top easier. Another moment and it was gone, leaving Zell to bask in the radiance that was Irvine Kinneas, half naked with gold hoops through each nipple.

 

A small sound of approval escaped his lips as his meandering mouth made a quick detour, tongue swirling around one of the piercings before taking the hoop between his teeth and tugging gently.

 

The assassin hissed, body lifting closer to Zell's as the guard continued to attack his pierced nipple with his talented mouth. He snorted mentally though. Little whore probably gets lots of practice.

 

His thoughts, however, were cut off as one of the blond's hands moved once again into his hair, playing two of the hitman's weak spots against him. He moaned, quietly, but it was enough to cause the younger man to smirk. He could feel it briefly against his chest. Cocky shit.

 

“It's not so bad, is it?”

 

“I'll live,” Irvine barely got out in a nearly normal voice.

 

“Good. I wouldn't want to fuck you to death.” Another grin.

 

“Like you could. Cocky little shit.”

 

“Just you wait, Paris. Just you wait.”

 

“I'm waitin', and nothin's happenin',” Irvine retorted, but was cut off by his own gasp as Zell's tongue ran from his naval to his throat, body lifting with it.

 

“Sure. Nothing. Why don't I just see for myself, hm?” The guard cocked a brow, free hand moving to the waist band of the hitman's pants, two fingers tucking inside and sliding around to the front.

 

Irvine glared down at the younger man, but gave no other indication that he should stop. And stop he didn't. Zell brought his hand down from auburn hair to help unbutton the pants, pulling them and the assassin's boxers down in one swift motion. The next moment his full attention was on the beautiful killer beneath him, eyes wandering over every inch of his exposed body.

 

Irvine lay there, uncaring, knowing he was good looking and completely unashamed of showing it off given the right circumstances; minutes away from sex definitely being one of them. “You gonna, like, do somethin', or just sit around staring at me all night?”

 

“It's tempting alright. Definitely tempting.” He ran his hands down smooth thighs and back up again. “But then again, so are other activities.”

 

“Other activities that most likely involve you losin' your pants, hm?” Irvine asked, one brow lifting in question before he turned to his head to the side, feigning boredom.

 

“All in due time.” One hand came up to the inmate's chin, turning his head back to him and closing the distance, kissing him slowly. Zell's other hand slid up Irvine's side, over his shoulder and along his arm to grip his wrist and pin it against the mattress.

 

Just as the hitman began to part his lips to the blond, said blond pulled away, grinning at the little noise he made.

 

“Tease…” Irvine murmured, watching him move down the bunk once more.

 

This time Zell lowered himself between Irvine's legs, nuzzling his length, then running his tongue up the underside from base to tip.

 

Irvine shuddered but restrained a small moan by biting his lower lip and gripping at the sheets. “S-stop that. Just do-oooh… do it.”

 

“And miss this opportunity? Mm-mm, no way. You just lay back and enjoy yourself while I do the same. It'll be over eventually.”

 

A groan slipped passed the taller man's lips as Zell finished his statement by taking him deep into his mouth. One of his hands betrayed his mental orders to not respond, fingers threading through soft, blond hair.

 

The corners of Zell's lips twitched slightly at the hand in his hair, all the encouragement he needed to take the hitman deeper and suck hard.

 

Irvine let out a strangled cry, gripping hard enough to make Zell grunt, but far from enough to make him stop. He continued to tease and please the assassin until he was unable to restrain the little sounds Seifer boasted of so often.

 

It was at that point he stopped, drawing a panted string of curses from parted lips. He smirked down at the auburn haired man, undoing his own pants while waiting for Irvine to look at him.

 

“I hate you… you mother… fucker. You suck.”

 

“No kidding,” Zell replied with a chuckle, shifting a little to remove his pants without having to remove himself from atop his treat. “I thought you'd had enough of that. Maybe ready for a little something more?”

 

“Just fuckin' do it,” Irvine growled before his head snapped back as two slick fingers slid inside him. “Uhh…” His eyes fell shut again, lips parted, breath coming in pants.

 

“Better?” Zell asked, pressing his body down against the assassin's and nibbling at his jaw line and neck.

 

“Mar-marginally,” Irvine breathed, bringing a hand up to curl over the blond's shoulder.

 

“In that case, I think you'll enjoy the next part much more.” And with that said, Irvine was given only a few moments to calm himself as Zell removed his fingers, then slowly slid into the older man beneath him, a soft moan escaping his lips.

 

The guard paused, leaning down to press a kiss to the hitman's lips, the down and along his throat and shoulder. “You're beautiful, Paris.”

 

“Uh… Good for me. Come on… move, dammit. Just f-fuck me,” Irvine whined, body shifting deliciously beneath the blond.

 

“Shh. Alright. I guess I've teased you enough.”

 

“Damn fuckin' right you have…”

 

Zell shook his head, grinning, and then started moving. His pace started off slow and strong, gradually gaining speed to a chorus of the little sounds Irvine made.

 

The hitman didn't take long to learn the rhythm and the slight changes in pace. In no time he was moving with the guard, hips lifting to meet each thrust. The sounds he made were more subdued than when he was with Seifer, more whimpers and needy whines. He didn't scream his lungs out and his throat raw.

 

Zell, for one, was pleased. He wasn't Seifer, didn't want to be, and was glad he could make Irvine sing a completely different song. It spoke volumes in itself. He didn't fake the sounds he made. His body just knew what to do, what pitch, and how loud for each move of his body. It was a thing of beauty.

 

“I-ink…” his back arched, head pressed hard into the pillow as Zell's fingers came between them to wrap around his length.

 

The guard couldn't help but take a moment to think how much like an instrument the assassin was like this. But such contemplations soon drifted from his mind. All there was now was himself, Irvine and their quickly approaching ends.

 

He could feel it in the shift and strain of the muscles beneath him, could hear in the catch of breath and hitch in the little sounds escaping Irvine's lips. His hand held firmer, moved faster, as he put his all into pleasing the inmate.

 

And to his pleasure, Irvine's head snapped back, body arching off the mattress and a sound caught between a cry and a moan slipped past his lips and into the cell as his release swept over him.

 

With his goal accomplished, Zell threw what restraint he had left to the wind, letting his body revel in the evening's past events and soak in the atmosphere of sex and afterglow. Two more thrusts were all he needed, his head bowed with his own release, a low moan escaping his throat.

 

His body faltered a moment before he caught himself, focusing long enough to withdraw from the inmate and lay next to him on the bunk.

 

Irvine took only the time he needed to recover before he removed himself from the guard's bed and went about finding his clothes, only a slight shake in his step.

 

“Better hurry `fore they lock the cells. Jade'll be missing you.”

 

The assassin snorted, pulling on his pants. “I'm sure. He'll just want to reclaim me as his, no doubt.”

 

“I guarantee it. Night, Paris. Good luck with, Jade. He'll probably leave you for tonight though.”

 

“Probably my arse. He isn't touchin' me for a week after that last stunt.” Without so much as a goodbye, Irvine slung his top over his shoulder and left the cell, slipping back into his own only a few minutes before the first call was made.

 

“Just in time,” Seifer murmured, eyes glancing over at him, one of his books in hand.