Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Hair Trigger ❯ Hair Trigger ( Chapter 1 )

Title: Hair Trigger
Author: GuiltyRed
Rating: R
Warnings: indirectly talking someone to orgasm
Word count: 951
Summary: Vincent takes a little time out to size up the competition.
Prompt: Vincent Valentine/Yazoo: Gunslinging foreplay - "Light on the trigger."



Yazuu took aim at a slender branch and fired. He didn't need the practice: his aim was, as always, flawless. He simply enjoyed the feel of weapon in hand, the soft recoil, the permanence of its function.

Without missing a beat, he spun and aimed up, sighting along the Nightmare's blade. A trigger's pull away from disaster, an odd apparition roosted in the ancient tree: blood red against frosty blue against starless black. Yazuu smiled darkly and called out, “I usually charge admission to my lessons. Come down and I may let you live.”

The watcher chuckled softly, the sound echoing off the trees. “As you wish.” He dropped lightly to the forest floor, landing in a crouch with weapon drawn. “It seems I have the advantage.”

Yazuu cocked his head and regarded the stranger. Heavy gun, three-barrel; probably slow, especially on the reload. Casually, not caring that the antique pistol stared unwavering at his head, Yazuu turned and resumed his game. He'd hear the thing being cocked, and have plenty of time to dodge. Besides, he wanted to know what this fellow was after, lurking about like that.

“That's a nice gun you have.”

Anyone else would have startled on hearing that low voice within touching distance; Yazuu, however, merely smirked to himself and chalked up one point to the visiting team. “It suits my needs.”

“It looks light.” The stranger now stood at his shoulder and studied the Velvet Nightmare as Yazuu put it through its paces. “Does it have any punch?”

“Do you want to find out?” Yazuu purred, glancing sidelong at the man. He noted the eyes - clearly not human, but not like his own - and ramped up his danger assessment.

The red-eyed man gave a tiny smile, mostly hidden in his collar, and held out his hand. “May I?”

Yazuu gave him a condescending look and held out his own hand.

With a short laugh, the stranger withdrew his hand and murmured, “Didn't think so.”

“I'm very particular about who I allow to touch my guns,” Yazuu stated proudly.

“That's the mark of a serious gunslinger. I'm the same way.”

“You do realize that my brothers will probably kill you if they find you here. In fact, I should do it for them.”

“Don't bother.” The red eyes seemed to glow from inside as the man turned toward Yazuu. “It's not my fight.”

Yazuu frowned slightly. “Then why are you here?”

“That's my business.”

Yazuu gave a derisive snort. “So you spied on me for what, personal reasons?”

What Yazuu could see of the man's mouth curved in a dangerous looking smile. “Maybe I just like to watch.”

Yazuu's eyes narrowed. “You came here to watch me? What's your name, anyway? This is getting annoying.”

“Vincent Valentine. Should I ask yours?”

Yazuu decided it couldn't hurt to tell him, so he did, shifting his weight impatiently as he answered.

Vincent nodded and said, “It's always a pleasure to meet a fellow gunman, regardless of the circumstances.”

Yazuu finally figured out what it was about the man that bothered him: he stared. Not that Vincent didn't blink - he did, slow and meaningfully like a cat; it was just that he had this way of looking right through Yazuu as though sizing him up and filing him away for future reference. Taking a deep breath, Yazuu repeated his earlier question, hoping either to get an answer or to get the man to leave. “So, Vincent Valentine, why are you here?”

“I told you,” Vincent replied calmly, “I like to watch.”

“Watch what, exactly?”

“You.”

Yazuu swallowed, unaccountably uncomfortable. The only person who ever watched him was Loz, and that often led to other sorts of games. He found himself wondering what this strange man might be like, if he would be as hard and demanding as his brother or if he would be different, somehow. Yazuu licked his lips and tilted his head a little, regarding Vincent with new curiosity. “Why?”

Vincent shrugged. “The way you handle your weapon. It's clear you're fond of it. You know its every mood, and how to wield it through any temper. It's a part of you, a part you like to use and touch, especially when you think no one's looking.”

Something about his words sounded vaguely erotic. Yazuu caught himself with his mouth hanging open ever so slightly, lips drying as his breath increased. He moistened his lips again.

Vincent closed his eyes and murmured, “You even watch yourself with it. The way your hand curves around, holding just so…”

Yazuu tightened his grip on the pistol as his other hand drifted down to rub at the sudden ache in his groin. What was this man doing to him?

“…exhaling slowly as you squeeze the trigger…just like I do.”

Yazuu gasped softly as he came, shocked and amazed that this stranger's voice could have such power over him. “Vincent,” he whispered, scanning the man's face, “do you want to…?”

Vincent shook his head, but he was smiling. “No. I have what I came for. And so, I think, do you.” He gave a small bow and turned to walk away.

Yazuu stared after him. Try as he might, he couldn't quite make sense of what had just happened, though he had to admit, it had been rather exciting.

As Vincent returned to his treetop pathways, he paused and saluted with his gun, then vanished back into the night.

Just like I do.

The words echoed in Yazuu's mind and he smiled to himself, wondering what it would be like to watch Vincent wield his larger, heavier sidearm. He was willing to bet it would be slower, especially on the reload.