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kinkfestTitle: Being Remembered
Author: anime_angel_ash
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: For the main character's pasts and the end of the game.
Warnings: Fade-to-black sex
Word Count: 1076
Prompt: June 22 - Final Fantasy VIII, Irvine/Selphie: The first time is the best time - "You won't forget this, no matter how many GF you cram in your head."
Summary: Sentimentality’s never convinced a GF to stop eating memories.
A/N: In at the last second. Swish! Hope you enjoy!
He stops when he feels the patch on the back of her neck, and suddenly, there’s a little part of him that thinks he’s been stressing out over nothing.
“Irvy?” the bundle of beautiful under him murmurs, enthusiasm waning, because it doesn’t take her long to figure out why he’s stopped moving. She wiggles nervously, and he probably would have appreciated that very much, thank you ma’am, half a second before. But now, the little thing on the back of her neck’s got all of his attention.
It’s small, about the size of a band-aid, and he kind of thought that’s what it was, at first. He was about to crack a joke about how clumsy she was to get a cut there of all places (because how do you even do that?), but now he feels the stiff aluminum of it, and he realizes that it was hot all on its own without any help from her. Then, there is the beast Ifrit, running up his nerves to flash angrily behind his eyelids. He knows what it is: a GF patch. God save him, with a beautiful girl spread out across his bed—arms over her head, dress pulled up to her waist with his hand crawling underneath—all Irvine Kinneas can do is sigh.
“Irvy,” Selphie whispers, taking his face in her hands, and that makes him feel a little bit better. She’s just too pretty, little and flushed, her air fanned out all over the place like he didn’t know it could, the way it basically floated the rest of the time. She tilts her head at him, and he chuckles a bit, tracing his thumb around her nipple. He sees her shiver, and her eyes flutter shut, a contented smile spreading across her face as she settles back into the sheets. Ah, Selphie, and he smiles just a little, too; that’s all she has to do to be pretty.
Actually, it doesn’t even take that much. All she had to do was steal his hat and smile for the camera with Quistis, telling him that he was holding it wrong. She got even prettier when he handed her back her officially dead camera, whispering in her ear that cowboys and SeeDs have a certain tradition regarding women who wear their hats, and she must already know that, right? It was well worth it to see the blush that burned the skin beneath her eyes, even if Selphie Tilmitt did punch harder than any other girl he knew (his shoulder’d be fine in a week or so).
He’d been ready to say she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen when she’d offered to walk him to his door (oh, how emasculating she could be), took the hat off her head, and ran her fingers over it just so before carefully putting it back on his head. He knew from the look she gave him—shy beneath her eyelids, her smile inviting—exactly what would follow.
He didn't expect the patch, though, and that puts a bit of a damper on things. Not a complete one, to be sure; she’s still half naked and ready to go, and Irvine fancies himself too much of a gentleman to deny a lady in need. However, suddenly, things don’t seem quite as good as they did a moment before.
He’d been nervous. For the first time since he’d slept with his swordsmanship instructor back in Galbadia (there’s a reason he took up the rifle and hits on Quistis constantly, and that lady's it), as Selphie crawled backward onto the bed and settled herself against his pillow, he had a moment of doubt. He had to make this one good, he told himself. They’d just survived a fight with the greatest sorceress of all time, survived Time itself, and he could still hear the rest of the Garden celebrating it with drunken revelry and squeaking springs. The two of them deserved something amazing. Plus, it was Selphie. How long had he been waiting for a chance like this? A month? Three months? Ever since they used to play house together and she would make him be the wife? Regardless, it was Selphie goddamn Tilmitt wrapping her arms around his neck and encouraging his hands up her dress. This had to be something to remember.
That’s a little harder to picture pulling off now, because sentimentality’s never convinced a GF to stop eating memories.
His expression’s probably pretty telling, because so is hers as her happy stupor peters out and she opens her eyes to look at him. It’s guilt he sees as she turns her eyes to the floor and shifts uncomfortably. She remembers—for a while, anyway—how she forgot him.
How long, he wonders, hands doing the unthinkable and stilling on a woman’s skin, until it happens again? It’d practically killed him when she couldn’t recall his face and thought he was just some crazy (gorgeous) Galbadian sharpshooter. How long until she forgot tonight? How long—they were mercenaries after all, and he could disappear tomorrow if God and a gun willed it—until she forgot him again?
The hand at the back of her neck moves, turning her face to meet his kiss. Sliding a knee between her legs, he pulls back and smiles charmingly down at her, brushing aside a bit of her hair. Looking into her wide, confused, but not at all displeased eyes with his own perfectly masked over ones, he leans down beside her ear, kissing her neck. “Guess I’ll just have to make this really good,” he says, and it’s more than relief he detects as she throws her arms around him.
---
When he wakes up the next morning, alone but for a little note on his bedside table (a heart and the word ‘shower’, so at least he knows she didn’t sneak away in the night), the first thing he does is pull himself out of bed and immediately step on something sticky. Sighing mightily—he could have sworn he hit the trashcan—he lifts his foot, reaches to pull it off, and stops. A little bit of silver stares up at him, about the size of a band-aid, and when he pulls it off, it’s hot against his fingers without any help from him.
And Irvine Kinneas smiles, because he's finally going to know what it’s like to be remembered.
Author: anime_angel_ash
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: For the main character's pasts and the end of the game.
Warnings: Fade-to-black sex
Word Count: 1076
Prompt: June 22 - Final Fantasy VIII, Irvine/Selphie: The first time is the best time - "You won't forget this, no matter how many GF you cram in your head."
Summary: Sentimentality’s never convinced a GF to stop eating memories.
A/N: In at the last second. Swish! Hope you enjoy!
He stops when he feels the patch on the back of her neck, and suddenly, there’s a little part of him that thinks he’s been stressing out over nothing.
“Irvy?” the bundle of beautiful under him murmurs, enthusiasm waning, because it doesn’t take her long to figure out why he’s stopped moving. She wiggles nervously, and he probably would have appreciated that very much, thank you ma’am, half a second before. But now, the little thing on the back of her neck’s got all of his attention.
It’s small, about the size of a band-aid, and he kind of thought that’s what it was, at first. He was about to crack a joke about how clumsy she was to get a cut there of all places (because how do you even do that?), but now he feels the stiff aluminum of it, and he realizes that it was hot all on its own without any help from her. Then, there is the beast Ifrit, running up his nerves to flash angrily behind his eyelids. He knows what it is: a GF patch. God save him, with a beautiful girl spread out across his bed—arms over her head, dress pulled up to her waist with his hand crawling underneath—all Irvine Kinneas can do is sigh.
“Irvy,” Selphie whispers, taking his face in her hands, and that makes him feel a little bit better. She’s just too pretty, little and flushed, her air fanned out all over the place like he didn’t know it could, the way it basically floated the rest of the time. She tilts her head at him, and he chuckles a bit, tracing his thumb around her nipple. He sees her shiver, and her eyes flutter shut, a contented smile spreading across her face as she settles back into the sheets. Ah, Selphie, and he smiles just a little, too; that’s all she has to do to be pretty.
Actually, it doesn’t even take that much. All she had to do was steal his hat and smile for the camera with Quistis, telling him that he was holding it wrong. She got even prettier when he handed her back her officially dead camera, whispering in her ear that cowboys and SeeDs have a certain tradition regarding women who wear their hats, and she must already know that, right? It was well worth it to see the blush that burned the skin beneath her eyes, even if Selphie Tilmitt did punch harder than any other girl he knew (his shoulder’d be fine in a week or so).
He’d been ready to say she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen when she’d offered to walk him to his door (oh, how emasculating she could be), took the hat off her head, and ran her fingers over it just so before carefully putting it back on his head. He knew from the look she gave him—shy beneath her eyelids, her smile inviting—exactly what would follow.
He didn't expect the patch, though, and that puts a bit of a damper on things. Not a complete one, to be sure; she’s still half naked and ready to go, and Irvine fancies himself too much of a gentleman to deny a lady in need. However, suddenly, things don’t seem quite as good as they did a moment before.
He’d been nervous. For the first time since he’d slept with his swordsmanship instructor back in Galbadia (there’s a reason he took up the rifle and hits on Quistis constantly, and that lady's it), as Selphie crawled backward onto the bed and settled herself against his pillow, he had a moment of doubt. He had to make this one good, he told himself. They’d just survived a fight with the greatest sorceress of all time, survived Time itself, and he could still hear the rest of the Garden celebrating it with drunken revelry and squeaking springs. The two of them deserved something amazing. Plus, it was Selphie. How long had he been waiting for a chance like this? A month? Three months? Ever since they used to play house together and she would make him be the wife? Regardless, it was Selphie goddamn Tilmitt wrapping her arms around his neck and encouraging his hands up her dress. This had to be something to remember.
That’s a little harder to picture pulling off now, because sentimentality’s never convinced a GF to stop eating memories.
His expression’s probably pretty telling, because so is hers as her happy stupor peters out and she opens her eyes to look at him. It’s guilt he sees as she turns her eyes to the floor and shifts uncomfortably. She remembers—for a while, anyway—how she forgot him.
How long, he wonders, hands doing the unthinkable and stilling on a woman’s skin, until it happens again? It’d practically killed him when she couldn’t recall his face and thought he was just some crazy (gorgeous) Galbadian sharpshooter. How long until she forgot tonight? How long—they were mercenaries after all, and he could disappear tomorrow if God and a gun willed it—until she forgot him again?
The hand at the back of her neck moves, turning her face to meet his kiss. Sliding a knee between her legs, he pulls back and smiles charmingly down at her, brushing aside a bit of her hair. Looking into her wide, confused, but not at all displeased eyes with his own perfectly masked over ones, he leans down beside her ear, kissing her neck. “Guess I’ll just have to make this really good,” he says, and it’s more than relief he detects as she throws her arms around him.
---
When he wakes up the next morning, alone but for a little note on his bedside table (a heart and the word ‘shower’, so at least he knows she didn’t sneak away in the night), the first thing he does is pull himself out of bed and immediately step on something sticky. Sighing mightily—he could have sworn he hit the trashcan—he lifts his foot, reaches to pull it off, and stops. A little bit of silver stares up at him, about the size of a band-aid, and when he pulls it off, it’s hot against his fingers without any help from him.
And Irvine Kinneas smiles, because he's finally going to know what it’s like to be remembered.
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no subject
Date: 2008-06-23 05:09 pm (UTC)I left the prompt, and I love what you did with it! I'm really interested in what that little thingy is. :-)
A million years later, an answer!
Date: 2008-07-09 09:41 am (UTC)That little thing was supposed to be a GF patch, which is basically supposed to be how they junction: put the patch over something close to the brainstem, connecting them with the GF. I partially stole the idea for a fic I read a million years ago that I can't remember the name of. ^_^;
no subject
Date: 2008-06-24 03:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-09 09:43 am (UTC)Thank you so much! Awesome compliment is awesome!