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Fran can tell by the way Balthier is kicking his sheets he’s having problems sleeping. Her ears, nearly a foot long each, reveals his secret of why said kicking ends a few minutes later: She knows by his breathing he is secretly trying to get off with her in the room next door. He is very quiet. Was Fran Hume, his actions would probably have gone unnoticed.
Fran has eavesdropped on his moments of delight before. Never with lovers, for he takes them not to the Strahl. Last night his attempts to bed a girl failed, leading him to dive into the Madhu instead. He’s been hung over all day, now lain down for a nap, while Fran is working on the systems of the ship. The poor kid, Fran grins. The Strahl offers little privacy. She pities him for having to be worried about her ears.
Fran does not feel shame by listening to him, neither does she find his actions strange or insulting. He is a healthy young Hume, it is part of who he is, part of his nature. Balthier likes women. There’s nothing complicated about it, and Fran herself is a very uncomplicated woman. The reason she has yet to be with him herself, is he does not appear to be interested in her in that way. She knows he likes to stare at her backside, but she believes he prefers his younger friends. That, plus she knows she frightens him sometimes.
Most of all, Fran is convinced Balthier is sure Fran is going to fall in love with him if they attempt something, which she finds adorable beyond reach. Balthier has had women falling for him many times before, refusing to leave him alone after bedding them. Had he used some sense, he would probably have realized how silly this idea is in relation to Fran. But Balthier is still young.
She wonders, though. If he would resist her aid. She believes he would not.
Ah, curiosity again gets the better of her.
Fran gets up from her chair and puts a heel to the floor. Balthier does his best to quickly rearrange and still his hand.
She walks into the hall and looks down at him. He's pretending to be asleep.
She sits down at his bed next to his knees, then slides a hand up his thigh, nearing his crotch. At that, Balthier flinches, opening his eyes.
“Fran”, and “what are you doing?” His voice is coarse.
“Do you want me to stop?” she says simply.
He stares at her in disbelief, then his face softens, his lips turning into a small grin. “Dear gods, no.”
She pulls his sheet aside with the same hand, revealing his erection. He is not of the largest of Humes, but he’s generous enough, the brown coloured hair down there neatly trimmed. As she runs the backside of a finger up his length, he shudders, leaning his head back on the pillow. She closes her hand around him and starts working him slowly. “Gods Fran, you picked the perfect time for this” he mumbles. As she keeps working him, he nearly jumps in his bed, moaning softly. Hangovers apparently makes him extra responsive.
She doesn't rush, still it doesn’t take long for him to show signals of being done for. He’s whimpering as he puts his hand over hers to guide her to go faster. As she does, he presses his head hard into the pillow - “aah, yes -- yes”, he stutters, then he explodes, his seed shooting so hard he hits himself in the neck.
Fran wipes a bit of wet from her hand onto his thigh and stands up. “Where are you going?” he says drowsily.
“Towel”, she smiles.
She hands him the little cloth, then heads back to the cockpit.
“You don’t want… the favour returned?” he calls after her. “Not now”, she replies from the cockpit. “Enjoy your beauty sleep.”
“...thank you” he says a little awkwardly. A couple of minutes later Fran can tell he’s already asleep.
¨
She doesn’t think seriously about having the favour returned until a few days later. Going to sleep the last few nights, she’s been picturing the look, feel and smell of his cock, making her grow needy. Asking Balthier straight out for is aid is something she wouldn’t do, at least not until the need has simmered for a few more weeks. Luckily Fran is not the only one who’s able to pick up on a few things. One night when they’ve gone to bed, Fran turning in her sheets for some time, she hears him speak the words she so wants to hear.
“Fran. Are you sure you don’t want the favour returned?”
Her heart pounds that little extra. “That has to be your decision”, she mutters, but Balthier is out of his bed before she has finished her sentence. “Move in”, he orders her, then he lies down next to her, his front pressed into her side - he is completely naked. There is only Fran’s sheet to separate them.
His first touch is placed on her ribcage, and Fran shakes. He then feels her breasts, sighing pleased as he plays with a nipple. He places a soft kiss on her shoulder, then wets his fingers by his own saliva before finding his way down under her sheet. He hums pleased as he realizes she too prefers to sleep in the nude.
Fran did not know the extent of her neediness until he is working her slowly. Her entire body tingles as he does; it is nice, and ever so mind numbing. As his fingers stroke her gently further down, teasing her opening, she moans. “I can imagine this is something you don’t get done yourself”, he grins, hinting at the claws on her hand. “Please”, Fran whimpers. She gasps as his finger finds its way inside her, feeling his erection pressed into her hip, realizing she is having ideas.
“I might need both hands for this”, he laughs, but Fran breathes “there is another way”, to which she feels his cock twitch. He exhales against her shoulder.
“Are you saying you want my cock?” he says with tease, voice clearly dark with lust.
“Are you saying you don’t like the idea?” she pants back.
“Fuck, I think it’s a glorious idea”, he growls, and she slides up in the bed to grant him access. A bit more rearranging of limbs and removing of sheets, and he is almost there, Fran halfway on her back, Balthier on his side. He holds her leg up by the knee, licks her cheek, then presses his full length into her. She sighs deeply as he does. Nothing can really compare to warm, hard flesh, no finger or no toy - she hasn’t owned one of the latter in a while.
He goes slow at her at first, but his pace increase as they go, Balthier using his hand on her as he rocks into her from behind. “Is this good?” he asks, Fran suspecting he’s asking just as much to arouse himself than for her confirmation, which she gives with small hums of pleasure. It is good, her body is quivering contentedly. She’s suddenly aware of how they’re yet to kiss. Balthier is inside her, but they have not yet shared the natural act between lovers that is kissing. It does not worry her; it rather exhilarates her: Their actions are raw, primal - and completely uncomplicated. They’re doing this because they both lust for it, and naught else.
As they go on, Fran’s upper body slides further down in the bed, lying on her back, her legs hovering over his hip. Laying like this, they have full access to each other’s reactions, Fran loving the look of Balthier’s flushed face, him enjoying the full view of her naked breasts and sated expression.
It is not a good position for coming, though. “I need more”, she pants in frustration after a little while. He can reach her deep from this angle, but not hard enough. Without sliding out of her, he moves to sit on his knees over her, the lower part of Fran’s body on the side, her knees clenched together, Balthier still entering her from behind. It gives him the chance to strike her with more weight while still sinking deep, and she moans when he starts moving again, this time far more determined.
“Do not stop”, she cries as he has the right angle, clenching the sheets, repeating her message. She can see he is struggling for control, but he continues to rock into her, and then she is unraveling, her entire lower body clenching around him as she cries out her orgasm.
He slows after that, but she can feel he has hardened further. He strokes her thigh frantically with a hand. “Gods, Fran”, ha murmurs. She sighs, his cock still giving her tingles. “Do you want something different?” she smiles. He grins, lifting her nearest leg, kissing her ankle as she adjusts to lie on her back. As she settles under him, she purrs, one hand sliding softly over a hard nipple. He leans slightly forward to brace himself on both hands as he starts working her again. She works with him, watching his face tense the closer he gets to coming. His breath is catching, Fran eyeing him teasingly. His face and chest both blush a suiting red as he closes his eyes, brows furrowed, biting his lip while whimpering. Not long after he gasps and comes, pulling out of her just before, unloading over her left hip and onto a corner of her sheet.
He sits back, leaning on one hand next to her hip, head still spinning from the orgasm. Fran finds a dry patch on the sheet to wipe off the leavings on her hip. “Sorry about that”, he slurs. Fran sighs content. “Thanks for offering”, she chirps.
He laughs. “Pleasure was all mine.”
Fran knows he is contemplating lying down next to her, as going back to his own bed might not appear very gentlemanly, and Balthier considers himself a gentleman. “You don’t have to stay”, she says. He looks conflicted for a moment, then lies down next to her, keeping the wet part of the sheet out of the way. He strokes her belly softly.
“As it is natural for me to be drowsy, it is natural for you to claim some attention. So,” he says, “have some attention.”
Fran chuckles. “I'm merely in this to scratch the itch, Balthier, as you are. No strings attached. A night with me comes with no guarantees, as they do with you. You don’t have to be attentive just because other lovers may crave it.”
“That being said", he says, adjusting his head against her shoulder, "will you be mad if I fall asleep?”
“Certainly not.”
He falls asleep a few minutes later, but as they keep moving in their sleep, she awakes briefly during the night to notice him going back to his own bed.
¨
The next morning is as any previous morning, except for Balthier’s proximity being that little extra less when he’s standing behind her looking at something she’s showing him on her screen. There is something in his voice as well; if he ever liked her before, he now likes her even more.
“I have to admit”, he says a few days later, when the both of them are on their way to the Sandsea, “I think we fuck well.”
Fran grins.
Following dinner, Balthier is leaning back in his chair, Fran resting her head in her palm, savouring the taste of a finer red wine.
“We could get a room”, Balthier says. “Bigger beds.”
Fran doesn’t reply, she just shoots him a look.
“You’re not responding as usual. Silly girl.” She finds it charming when he uses that word for her. “If I was to get one, would you object?”
Her smile is tiny, but her eyes are shining. “No.”
“Well then”, he says, looking smug as he gets up from his chair. “Room it is then.”
Minutes later she is following him up to the second floor of the Sandsea. So this is where he takes them, Fran thinks. It feels strange now becoming one of Balthier’s lovers. She decides she will be less demanding this time, she likes having Balthier taking charge. And call her girl.
¨
Balthier shoots her a cheekish smile as he unlocks the door. They enter the room. It is sparsely furnitured, a single window with ragged curtains, a tiny closet, a big bed with clean sheets.
“So,” Fran says, standing in the middle of the room, “what do you do with your lovers when you’ve successfully convinced them to come this far?”
Balthier sits down on the bed. “Well, usually I make sure I have something to offer them to drink. In case they’re still considering the offer.” He smirks. “Took my chances I wouldn’t need it this time.”
The smug bastard. “What if they decline this drink, and yet show no further sign of initiative?"
“Then I start thinking they’re playing hard to get, and those are the ones who really want it.” He leans back in the bed.
Fran puts a hand on one hip. “And what if they had you fooled all along? What if they never intended to do anything with you?”
“I don’t believe they’ve had me fooled until they’re out the door,” he replies, his gaze a challenge.
Fran doesn’t move.
At that, Balthier gets up from the bed and slouches past her to stand behind her. The first piece of garment he removes, is her helm. His finger then works their way to the clasp on her jacket, unhooks it and pulls it down her arms. As the pieces drop to the floor with a slight clunk, her heart skips a beat. He then goes to work with unlacing her bodice.
“You seem determined”, Fran suggests. “Have you been wanting this for some time?”
Her bodice is loose enough he can slide a hand in to cup around one breast, while he presses into her, grinding his hard on against the lower part of her arse. At that, she exhales.
“I have a feeling I’m not the only one”, he grins into her neck.
Her armour was not made for removal of a more erotic kind. She wiggles it down her hips while he helps her pull it down her legs. She obediently lifts one leg to go free of the garb, then the other. Balthier is still kneeling down when she sees her garb being flung in a corner. “Turn around”, he says.
She does. He grins up at her, licks a thumb and starts caressing the bud down there. Her breathing speeds, even more so when he leans in to tease her with his tongue. He puts a hand on each ass cheek and leans into her - he seems to be enjoying it, and so is she.
When he pulls back, his eyes are hazy. “I think you should lie down” he suggests.
Fran is not hard to ask. She steps back until she feels the end of the bed, then stretches her long body back into it, as far as she can go. Balthier follows, his face a content grin as he tangles one hand into hers, then goes back to tending to her.
He goes at it with such love and enthusiasm Fran can’t help thinking this is part of what has her in flames right now. She imagines he is fully hard by now, dying to take her. The thought is arousing beyond anything. When he starts applying fingers to her, she moans without shame. That fucking kid is going to make her come again, she knows it. It’s probably what he’s determinedly going for as well. The boy is too clever for his own good, she thinks; although right now, she is nothing but grateful for said cleverness.
He finds it, the rhythm she needs, the pressure she requires. Her cunt is hot and throbbing and aching. For too long she lays in limbo, the orgasm lurking around somewhere. When she finally catches it, she feels as if knocked in the head; she shakes and trembles and cries, good gods, for it is an orgasm stronger and better than any orgasm she could achieve on her own.
When she opens her eyes, Balthier has sat up, looking incredibly smug. He pulls off his vest and shirt. “You’re too hot for me, Fran”, he growls, then lays down next to her, placing a hand on her stomach. She is still breathing hard. He places a soft kiss on her cheek; she can feel he is hard against her side.
“That is a favour… I will have problems repaying”, she pants. He laughs into her neck. “I have no problems believing you are perfectly able to, my dear”, he says softly.
For moments they lay like this, Balthier nibbling at her neck as she regains her sanity. Then she turns over to her side to face him, her hand tugging lightly at his waistband, his thumb gently toying with one of her nipples. “I intend to take my time”, she smiles innocently before starting a trail of kisses leading downwards.
¨
They get their money’s worth for the bed this night. New tastes are sampled, new angles are tested, new moans uttered. Around two in the morning they have some roasted meat delivered to their door, which they devour in bed. After a game of tickles, they both black out in each their corner of the bed.
When Fran awakes the next morning, it is from a pleasant dream; she does not want to open her eyes to have daylight ruin it. She reaches out a hand and feels Balthier’s back, he is lying on his stomach next to her. When she touches him, he hums pleased. She hears him turn his head towards her.
“Still asleep?” he asks, she shakes her head. She pulls the sheet away to caress one breast. Balthier remains silent, but as she lets her hand drop, he pulls himself closer, placing kisses on her neck, his hand exploring her upper body.
As he softly teases the stubborn hair on the lower part of her abdomen, she inhales. She still hasn’t opened her eyes.
Her lust has been ignited, again. It is as if their actions last night didn’t sate any lust - it was rather enhanced. She feels she is wet already, though that could be from the dream.
“Fuck me”, she whispers, and at those words he moans into her neck.
As he moves to settle over her, she opens up to him, gasping at the feel of his cock touching her entrance. When he penetrates her, she feels like laughing; it is even better than her dream. She is ever so slightly sore, but it doesn’t matter, after a few strokes she doesn’t feel it anymore. Eyes still closed, she pushes back to him.
She feels him lie down to brace himself on his elbows. He kisses her neck, her cheek - then Fran feels him place his lips on the side of her mouth, but he does not kiss her, not properly. It is an action they are saving for another time - Fran does not know why, and neither does she care. All she wants is for him to keep rocking her, always.
¨
They do not repeat their joining often. Fran’s lust wavers, and Balthier is rarely satisfied. One night they’re having supper, he keeps rocking his foot while staring at one of the girls a few tables away.
“Balthier”, Fran says, “in no way are you bound to me. If you want the girl, go talk to her.”
He grimaces. “I’d feel weird about it.”
“You’d feel weird as you leave our table, and maybe again tomorrow when we meet in the Strahl. You will not feel weird when you are with her.”
Balthier snorts. “You know too much, Fran. I sometimes wonder how different Viera and Hume really are.” He is silent for a moment. “My actions won’t trouble you the tiniest bit?”
She shakes her head. “As I told you, I am not looking for marriage. I left the Wood to be free. As long as we have trust, that is all that matters to me. I’d rather you didn’t start feeling attached to me as lovers do.”
He almost looks displeased. “Not even a tiny bit?”
“Fine”, she smiles, “I’m going to be very jealous of your girls. I’ll secretly long for you. Now go talk to the girl.”
He laughs softly, then grabs his drink and leaves the table.
¨
For months, they live together in a way that would be deemed as strange and inappropriate to others. Now and then, Balthier will smooth talk women and take them to a room, other nights Fran will crawl naked into his bunk. Even stranger perhaps, after having hammered out each other’s orgasms, Fran will lie cozily tucked onto his chest, asking him for details about his latest conquests. He will tell her things like “she was horrible at giving head but desperately wanted to” or “she just laid there, dead as a fish”. Other times he will say “she was good”, Fran asking him how - then listen with interest as he shares the details.
Sometimes she is determined to prove she can do better.
It is as if they share everything, know everything about each other - every time they share a joke, or they pass each other a look in front of other people, they do so knowing exactly what the other is thinking, down to their bones. But still they are yet to share a kiss.
¨
One day in the cockpit of the Strahl, Fran pushes away his screen and controllers and straddles him. He brushes strands of stubborn hair away from her face. “Needy, are we?” he purrs.
To that she shrugs, then gets to work on his buckle. He strokes her cheek as she does.
“You’re a brilliant woman, Fran. Truly. I am very sure I will never meet anyone as special as you.” He says it with full honesty, no hidden intentions beneath his words.
Fran finishes unbuckling, then tilts her head and studies him. In the sheen of daylight, he looks pleasant, handsome even, and she rarely sees people as beautiful; to her they are just faces. She does not know why, but she leans into him, pausing ever so slightly as she observes his reaction. His eyes moves from hers to her lips - he does not pull away. She parts her lips, exhales - then he closes the gap, putting his lips to hers; soft, warm, demanding. She likes the feel of him.
The kiss lingers. As they break it, neither of them move. Balthier grins then, tucks both hands around her back and pulls her closer, then he kisses her again, this time hungry, applying his tongue to her. She responds, which has him humming.
“Are you not afraid”, she murmurs between kisses, “that I will now fall in love with you?”
He grins, captures her lips again. “Perhaps”, he says, licking her upper lip as a tease, “perhaps I wouldn’t mind.”
“You should be so lucky”, she smiles.
“Until then, I will gladly accept what is offered”, he says, then they speak no more words.