Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Mine. ❯ Loved. ( Chapter 12 )

Warnings: Mild lemon, Zell… collective nouns… Really, if you're still reading, I almost think this is becoming redundant… I just like the sound of my own voice. ::wink::

 

Pairings: Yeah, nah…

 

Disclaimer: I won my stuff, Squaresoft owns theirs. Believe me, I'd know if you pinched any of my ideas from this one.

 

Author's Notes: On the spelling of the things the natives live in: I was reluctant to call them teepees anyway, because I already stipulated that these guys weren't specifically based on any sort of original inhabitants to any country. However, I couldn't think of a better word. I even went so far as making things up, but nothing felt right. I know it can also be spelt tipi, however, I didn't like either “teepee” or “tipi”, and wanted to be somewhat unique anyway, even if only in a little way, therefore, it is “teepi”, and I've already had the argument with Eoko, so don't go trying to tell me I've spelt it wrong. If she can't convince me to change it back, then no one can, believe me. Heh.

 

Guess no one wanted to draw those pics, huh? ::grins:: No matter.

 

Sorry about the belatedness of this chappy. I was waiting on Adult Fanfiction, but their uploading still isn't enabled, and it was just getting ridiculous, so here you go! Enjoy!

 

Mine. - KittyMeowMaxwell.

 

Chapter Twelve - Loved .

 

Zell burst through the trees, stopping still when his eyes fell upon the scene. Was nothing safe anymore?! He glanced past Ti to Nirrin and snarled, lips peeling back from his teeth with utter animosity and command.

 

“Nirrin,” he growled, and the knife twitched. He lifted his head, looking down his nose at the taken holding his taken and arching a brow, posturing.

 

“/Hold, Nirrin, he is not your taker!/” Ti hissed and Zell gave a short laugh through his nose.

 

No, he wasn't. But he'd had his share of taken and Nirrin was one of them. Besides that, all three of them knew which was the stronger taker, and it wasn't Ti. The green feather in Nirrin's hair meant little in the face of Zell's presence.

 

“/Nirrin!/” It was a snarl this time and the knife fell away, making Zell lift his chin higher and almost crow with triumph. There was no denying the humiliation of a Feathered taken obeying another taker over the one who'd done the Feathering.

 

Zell knew Irvine would do nothing of the sort.

 

“Zell…” the cowboy said and Ti twitched, refusing to remove his hand out of sheer pride and arrogance.

 

“/Leave him, Ti, or I will break your neck,/” Zell promised lowly.

 

Again, Ti's teeth showed, but only briefly, because Zell barely had to crouch a little in threat and the other native backed off. He dropped his hand and stood, his entire stance radiating animosity.

 

“/You haven't been to the HeartSeer yet. He's free game./”

 

“/He's mine, and you will not touch him…/”

 

“He isn't Marked! I can Feather his hair myself, if I want to, and you can say nothing./”

 

The absolute nerve of him! He was weaker than Zell, they both knew it! By rights, he should already have put his tail between his legs and slunk off. Hierarchy was very simple to understand. Takers were above taken, and beyond that, everything depended on strength. The stronger, the higher. Those who would take either position in a coupling fit in purely on strength - only the Chief's position was separate from this ranking system, the next declared by the previous on his or her deathbed.

 

Well, if Ti would force proof of who was the better, then Zell wouldn't deny him his foolish wish to make a spectacle of himself in front of their two taken.

 

“/Try it,/” Zell dared him, then continued. “/Were he of our people I would have Marked him long since. He is mine and I'll have no hand laid upon him but mine./”

 

“/Our people,/” Ti scoffed, curling his lip. “/You are the bane of our people…/” And with that, he left, Nirrin following at his heels like a whipped Gayla.

 

“Irvine…” Zell said softly when they were gone, hurrying over to him and gathering him close. He kissed away the drop of blood drawn from his taken's throat, then kissed his lips, holding his face. “/I'm sorry. I didn't think anyone would find you before I returned./”

 

“/I'm sorry. I didn't… I didn't see them coming. I tried to get away, but the knife… I didn't want him to touch me. I'd never have let him!/”

 

“/Shh, shh…/” Zell whispered, proud of his cowboy for the defiance he would show to any other than himself. “/I know. I know you wouldn't/”

 

Irvine smiled at him, and he was taken by surprise when the cowboy kissed him furiously. It didn't take but a heartbeat before he took control of the kiss, tongue plunging possessively into his taken's mouth. Irvine didn't fight it, but melted against him.

 

“/You are mine,/” Zell growled against his lips.

 

“/Yours,/” he agreed in a whisper and Zell held him tighter for a brief moment before letting him go.

 

Nevertheless, he was worried. He didn't tell his cowboy, for that would be admitting to a weakness, and no taker showed any weakness to his taken. But he dare not leave Irvine alone.

 

He took his beautiful lover to his teepi, smiling thanks when the pretty Unchosen he'd charged to keep it clean, aired and dust-free bowed her way out. He saw Irvine's eyes follow her, a smirk hovering about his lips and knew he had lessons to give. Ai, the trouble his taken could get into! Especially, he thought, with the state of near-nakedness his people all went about in. The only difference between his own clothing and that of the woman was a thin band she wore that passed across her chest. Indeed, it wasn't so much for modesty (the natives had little, if any) as keeping them out of the way while she worked. Even as she left, she was removing it.

 

He left Irvine to consider his new home while he went outside to retrieve the furs and other bits and pieces from the chocobos. Already, Irvine's bird was drawing attention. Several chocobos of varying mottled hues had come to welcome Shir'nis back to their swift (1) and investigate the new arrival. He stuck out terribly among the patches of white, tan, brown, black and grey, his bright yellow feathers blindingly obvious.

 

Whispers caught Zell's sharp ears.

 

“/…supposed to remain hidden?/”

 

“/…n't one of our chocobos, it's…/”

 

“/…you think he really…?/

 

“/…too much freedom./”

 

“/…nyone see that other thing he brought back?/”

 

There was laughter at this, spreading in an insidious wave through the gathering natives. Hands lifted to tittering lips, and more whispers flew.

 

“/…even call that a taken…?/”

 

“/...know where it's been?/”

 

“/…could have anything…/”

 

“/…diseased…/”

 

“/…taint…/”

 

“/And so ugly!/”

 

“/Mind your tongues!/” Zell snarled, hands fisting at his sides. He glared in a manner that managed to cover the entire camp, then turned and stalked back into his teepi.

 

A clay pot suffered on the camp's behalf, swept off the table it stood on with a violent snap of his hand. Irvine jumped when it hit the floor and looked up at him, wide-eyed, as he threw the furs down and spread them out. A jerk of his head drew his taken onto the furs and he in turn was on his taken in a heartbeat, pressing against him, listening to him sigh in anticipation.

 

“/I'm going to get you in trouble…/” Irvine's voice said in his ear, fingertips tracing down his spine.

 

“/They'll get used to you,/” Zell promised, stroking his taken's hair. /“They will accept you. I know it./”

 

“/Even if they don't, I have you…/”

 

Zell smiled affectionately, then his intentions grew more amorous and his hands began to wander. Irvine relaxed willingly under him, now well aware of the pleasure he would give, and give well. Then Zell remembered he had other things to do. He smirked when Irvine whimpered as he sat up.

 

“/There are things I must teach you, especially about Unchosen./”

 

“/Unchosen…?/” Irvine echoed. He sounded a little confused, so enraptured had he been - of course - with his taker's pleasuring. No one could blame him when his smirk grew slightly.

 

He spent a little time bringing his taken back down, then began an explanation of his people.

 

“/Unchosen, such as the girl who was in here before, wear no tattooing until they come of age on the first day of summer of their eighteenth year. Until then, they can only experiment with other Unchosen and a Chosen must never touch one./”

 

“/Chosen?/” Irvine asked. “/I understand Unchosen - not of age - but Chosen?/”

 

“/I'm Chosen./” He indicated the tattoo banded around his right thigh, coiling points waving down towards his knee. “/This tells anyone who should care to look that I prefer men, and to take them. If the points go up the right leg, it is a preference to be taken by men. Left leg is women, downwards marks a taker, upwards, a taken. This way, no mistakes can be made. No taker can be mistaken in who he or she chooses to take. I have seen some - not in this camp - with tattoos on both legs which strike both up and down the leg, but this, I think is too undecided… I am confidant in what I want and how I want it…/”

 

Irvine gave a rueful chuckle at that and a slight nod of understanding, then frowned slightly.

 

“/But what if you change your mind?/”

 

“/It's not possible. The Unchosen have four seasons, from the coming of age day at the beginning of summer, when they are free to be with whomever they choose, Chosen or Unchosen. This is the time they must use to decide. They cannot be Feathered or Marked. It's also the only time a taker can be told to stop by a taken - or, rather, one who would choose to be a taken./”

 

He watched his cowboy digest this, loving the concentration that furrowed the otherwise smooth brow.

 

“/You mean… any one of them… any taker can take me, and I… I can't say no?/”

 

Zell shifted a little.

 

“/Yes. They can take you, and you can't say no,/” he affirmed.

 

“/But you… you're my taker./”

 

Zell grinned at that and tossed his head.

 

“/Yes, and I am free to take you whenever and however I like also./”

 

Irvine snorted, and Zell was a little surprised when he moved, coming forward so that a knee when to either side of the native's thighs and he settled his hips against Zell's own. It was true, his taken was getting more relaxed and used to their pleasure, but this was the first time he had made advances.

 

“/What's this then?/” the native wondered amusedly, hand already running up Irvine's thigh. “/Are you the very same shy cowboy I met only a little time ago?/”

 

“/The very same, but you've taught him new things…/” Irvine replied, nuzzling at his taker's temple.

 

“/But I thought it was wrong…/” Zell teased, then hissed when the cowboy shifted his hips deliberately. A smirk curved Irvine's lips.

 

“/How can it be when it feels so good?/”

 

“/Mmm… yes. Soon I'll Mark you, and there will be no more doubt to whom you belong./”

 

Irvine stilled and frowned at that.

 

“/What does it mean, really? To be Marked…?/”

 

“/I'll choose a mark, and you will have it here,/” Zell indicated the top of Irvine's right arm. “/And I'll have one to match it in the same place. Then all takers will know you're mine and they will no longer be allowed to touch you. It will show my ownership./”

 

- - - - - - -

 

Irvine blinked, not so certain as he had been earlier. His feelings were mixed. He was touched and flattered by the evident need for him the native showed, and the harsh, possessive tone that came to his voice at the very idea of someone else touching him was primally satisfying.

 

But, despite his attraction and craving for the powerful man even now between his thighs, the fact of the matter was he wasn't ready to be restricted to one person. Besides that, his parents expected him to marry a woman - probably Selphie - and give them grandkids and look after the ranch when Eli grew too old.

 

“/I can't…/” he said softly, despite the strange pain it caused him. He felt the excitement in both their bodies begin to cool. “/You can't do that…/”

 

Zell looked utterly shocked and his teeth showed with his next words.

 

“/I am taker. It's my right./”

 

Irvine looked away, biting his lower lip, and gave a shake of his head.

 

“/What if I don't want to?/”

 

Zell's eyes flashed and in one flex of his body, he had pinned Irvine to the furs. Excitement bucked in the cowboy's belly again, and he couldn't fight it.

 

“/You get no choice in this matter,”/ the native growled, jerking off Irvine's loincloth and wrapping it around his arousal to deliver several long strokes with the fuzzy material. Irvine's lips parted and he whimpered, unable to ignore the touch.

 

“/But… b-but…/”

 

“/You can't fight me,/” Zell told him and he knew it was true, could only moan throatily when the material stilled and the native rubbed the pad of his thumb across the tip of his taken's arousal.

 

“/E-vil…/” Irvine panted, hips lifting to Zell's touch. “/Using my… body against me… I… ha-ate you…/”

 

Zell smiled and bent, putting his mouth close to Irvine's ear.

 

“/No matter…/” he whispered. “/I love you./” (2)

 

Irvine didn't know the word, but he somehow found its meaning instantly and he gasped, arching his back. He wasn't sure if it was a reaction to Zell's words or his touch.

 

“Zell…” he whimpered. “Nn… Zell…”

 

“/I love you,/” the native repeated, then Irvine forgot everything but the moment in which he existed.

 

Zell knew all the right places to touch and Irvine was soon a quivering, writhing mass of moans and desperate pleas. He didn't care that anyone within ten feet of the teepi would hear him - didn't even remember that they could. Eventually, he could stand the teasing no longer.

 

“/Zell!/” he cried. “/Please! Dear Hyne, please stop!/”

 

“/Stop…?/” Zell echoed slyly and ceased all movement of his hands and body and mouth. “/Yes…?/”

 

“/No!/” He sobbed the word and lifted his hips, whining.

 

“/Say you are mine, and always will be,/” the native demanded, and everything inside of Irvine clamoured this wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to bribe him like this, when all he wanted was more than a touch, more than fingers. He wanted Zell inside of him, taking him, as his taker should, and pleasing them both in the process. But the native wouldn't move, wanted an answer, and no amount of pleading got Irvine the mercy it always had before.

 

Then, he realised he didn't care. Whether he was being bribed or not, his answer would be the same. It was what he wanted, and what he needed, and the right thing, even if everything about it threw his planned future into chaos. It didn't matter. Only this did, now, Zell. That was all.

 

“/Yours…/” he whispered huskily. “/I'm yours… always…/”

 

The native gave an approving growl and entered Irvine in one smooth thrust, wasting no more time on teasing. He gave them both what they wanted, deep and hard, and Irvine was glad of it. He moaned his pleasure at being so thoroughly claimed.

 

All thought of what used to be home, of log walls, feathered mattresses and duty fled his mind - he knew this was where he belonged. He belonged in this man's teepi, in his arms, in his furs, in his heart. And he belonged to this man.

 

He clung to Zell, crying out loudly, then fading to a near whimper over and over. Then pleasure exploded through him and he arched clear of the furs, calling his lover's name in a desperate wail. Zell was seconds behind him, giving a satisfied moan in his ear that was an unbelievable stroke to the cowboy's ego.

 

For a while, there was nothing but a spin in his head, and Zell's breath hot against his ear. Hyne, he was so unbelievably sexy. Everything about him was gorgeous, made Irvine's skin tingle and his body respond. He loved that he could do this to the native, as well as the native doing this to him. After a time, he became aware their breathing was slowing and he stroked his hands languidly down his lover's back, a smile curving his lips.

 

“Zell…” he whispered softly.

 

“Ai, Irvine…” came the instant reply.

 

“/Thank you…/”

 

“/Oh, you are most welcome…/” Zell murmured, lifting himself away and causing Irvine to shiver and make a soft noise of pleasure at the movement within him. The native couldn't help but grin.

 

“/Are you not tired…?/” Zell wondered, the grin turning to a smirk.

 

“Nnn…” Irvine replied noncommittally, then; “/Do you really… love me?/”

 

“/Oh, yes,/” Zell said straight away, and the certainty in his voice took Irvine's breath away. “/I love you. I always have…/”

 

Irvine's smile was hesitant and he didn't know what to say. Women had told him they loved him before, and his flippant answer had always come easily - well, darlin', I lurve you too, an' don't you forget it - but he didn't want to do that to Zell.

 

The native seemed to sense his confusion, his uncertainty and he just smiled and kissed Irvine gently, stroking his hair and pulling him against his body. The cowboy relaxed into him, draping an arm over his shoulders and slinging his leg over the native's hip.

 

“/Sleep,/” Zell told him gently.

 

“/It's the middle of the day…/” the cowboy replied with a laugh, though he wasn't at all opposed to staying exactly where he was. He traced his fingers along the lines of the tattoo adorning the native's face. “/What does this one mean…? All the others mean something… This one,/” He touched Zell's thigh. “/Means you take men. This one,/” he reached over Zell's left shoulder to touch the tattoo spread across his shoulder blade. It was a curling snake and Zell had told him what it meant on their travels. “/…is your family's crest. So, what about this one?/”

 

Zell chuckled in that way which always sent a shiver down his spine, and cocked his head, showing off the tattoo shamelessly. Irvine grinned at him, unable to help himself.

 

“/Oh, no. This is simply because it looks perfect…/”

 

Irvine laughed at that and Zell arched a brow, which only made Irvine laugh even harder. He licked the native's throat, still laughing around his own tongue, but the laugh developed into a yawn and the native stroked a hand along his hip, pressing him gently back against the furs.

 

“/Sleep?/” Irvine hazarded around another yawn.

 

“/Yes. After all the traveling, we'll easily sleep until tomorrow morning, and no one will disturb us./”

 

Almost before Zell had finished, Irvine's eyes slid shut and he was asleep, curled against Zell's body. Where he belonged.

 

- - - - - - -

 

(1) Whee! Collective nouns.

 

(2) Ha! Zell said it first! Invariably, my characters say their I love you's before Hicky's do. Irvine definitely said it first (after Zell nearly got killed being stupid on the Ragnarok.) but now I got my own back!

 

Hicky: Hey! We wouldn't have “fly-boy” if Zell hadn't decided to play mechanical bull with a flying ship.

 

(Remember, these footnotes come from Eoko's version, since I lost mine in the format. ::giggles:: Hence her input here…)

 

Author's Notes: Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!