L.I.F.E Insatiable

By Fen-cyra

Rating: M

Pairing: Blank x Zidane

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I attempt to own, the characters from Squaresoft (Now Square Enix)'s Final Fantasy 9 game.

N/A: I seem to have writer's block…Wrote this just to get that sexual itch to go away until I really get into writing Abnormalities, because the sex in that one won't happen until waaaay later. Like, fifth or sixth chapter later.

I'm moving to AFFnet soon for good, because of the Mature ratings in my stories. FFnet doesn't really support it, so…if you wish to still watch me, look for me there soon. I'll be under the same name. All stories without the sex will remain here. And new ones I am currently in progress with.

Oddly enough, I was playing Banjo-Tooie for the entirety of this.

Go jiggywiggy, yo. xD

Eekum Bokum, Eekum Bokum, oowaha oowaha. Eekum Bokum, Eekum Bokum, Eekum Bokum eeyo ha.

Alright, enough nonsense. On with the story.

EDIT: I've mixed up the NC-17 and the M rated versions. Truly sorry! If you wish to read the NC-17 version, please go to my AFFnet page!

Error Status: Still have no Beta Reader. Expect errors. : /

It was winter again. The rain fell as glistening shimmers of icy flakes from the sullen skies above, sweeping gently through the wind to blanket the warmth of the land in a fog of powdered ice. Not a single sprinkle of snow faltered, not even when said wind swept them from their course. The weather made it cold; negative three degrees cold. And that made the season all the more uncomfortable.

Padded boots crunched gently through the snow.

"I hate the cold season." He snorted irritably at the flake on his nose, visibly trying to shake the chill off. 'Why it has to be so damn cold is beyond me.' In Blank's opinion winter was the epitome of all that needed to be damned. The frigidness, the solid wetness, the blinding white— hell, it was all just a bunch of bullshit he didn't want to deal with.

"'It's not sa'bad'," He mock-imitated Baku, "'Jus' a tad colder.' Pssh— easy for him to say. His ass has a hundred extra pounds to keep warm with."

The silent air of animosity followed him, a lonely figure tagging along a safe distance behind him.

"I'm coooold," it whined, body bouncing through the truffles of snow, trying to shake the whiteness sticking to his boots. "Are we there yeeeet?"

Intent on ignoring the other's teasing; Blank continued aloud dryly, "The snow wouldn't be so bad if the cold didn't have to come with it."

He stopped momentarily, brows creased. One of the gods must have a grudge against him, for the wind shifted, the harsh flow sweeping up his front. He turned in response to hide his face, cold, blinking eyes scanning what they could of their surroundings for something. "Unbelievable," He found himself grumbling. Mostly everything was covered in a thick sheet of white.

Through all the years he had made his way through the streets of Lindblum, the snow had always effectively masked the trademark scenery every year, making it hard to find one's way around the once familiar walkways. It was all the more reason why the elder of the two resented the snow— that and the unmistakable chill that came with it.

Blank started walking again as the wind died down; pulling out the tattered old map he'd resorted to bringing along from his side belt. Staring intently, his brows crinkled in annoyance under his headband. The wind was whipping so hard all he could see were the wisps of corners as they suffused over his hands like the night time would the sky, effectively blocking his view. Not that the sifting snow made matters any better.

"I can't even see the damn thing." What was he supposed to think when their 'Boss' sent them out for supplies? Why did he say 'yes'? Baku could've just sent Marcus — What with his burly physique — and be done with it. So why did he have to go, and why not by himself? Why did he have to put up with the whiney monkey in a long a walk across Lindblum…in the snow?

'Somebody must really hate me.'

Of all things evil; this was by far the worst.

"Blaaaank."

He could feel the twitch in his left brow begin to stir. But he tried his best to ignore it, even when he felt the incessant tug at his jacket. "My toes are numb," the younger complained half-heartedly. "And my back is gettin' all itchy-like!"

Continuing his long tirade of whining over the loss of his bodily functions— his ability to not know if he had to pee, or if already had in his pants, for instance, wasn't something Blank needed to know— he tried to lean over his friend's shoulder to see the map as well. "Hey, why don't you stop and look at it Blank? It might be easier to see if you stop mo—"

He stumbled against Blank's back when the other had abruptly stopped, whipping around, and glaring daggers at his star struck expression. He couldn't hide the frustration in his voice.

"Do you want to look at it then?"

He was faced with silence, only the violent whipping of the wind breaking their silence. But really, what else could he have said? The cold was beginning to seep through his clothes as the snow melted against his warmth. His mood altered from uncomfortable to just plain testy. He dubbed himself non-responsible for anything when he was in his moodiness.

He could be rude all day; didn't bother him any. And yet, the stunned countenance before him almost gave a tug within his chest. He softened, as if trying to absolve himself from the prickled tone, "Look, I know. It's freezing. I'm cold, you're cold; I get it. Can't do a damn thing about it though."

"…Maybe we can jus' stay at the Inn for a bit. You know, warm up. Boss-man can wait, right?"

Thoughtfully Blank considered it, the concept of a warm bed instead of a frigid death sounding more like an option than a settlement.

'I'd rather not have to deal with snorting ice shards later.' The thought alone made him cringe. "Maybe," he agreed. "But until we find it, we're still lookin' for Baku's storage."

He left it at that and continued his strides, the packed snow making it somewhat difficult. With a huff he rolled up the paper in his hands, tucking it into his waist belt. The stock building they used for supplies had to be somewhere near by. He knew where it was, a small studio hidden in the alley ways where they'd perform they're practice plays, but how was he supposed to find it through the undulating blanket of snow?

They'd been trudging through the snow for hours, suffering with the added bonus of a bone chilling blizzard to up the wind chill. The snow hadn't been that bad when they'd taken the air cab to the Business District. Maybe a light drizzle here, some flakes there. But within mere minutes the weather picked up. It wasn't getting any better, in fact, it was getting far worse.

"…'M-m still cold." The younger of the two shivered, hugging himself. He was near frozen now, with the weather finally biting into his skin. Though they were dressed for the snowy occasion, the wooly winter attire could only sustain so much. Even the thickness of his winter boots was beginning to soften against the unrelenting wetness. His feet had since gone numb from the constant cold battery. Up against the goddess of ice he was defenseless, and he could feel the chill biting into his skin. His whole body was beginning to slow down.

He hadn't realized he'd stopped until he felt himself being shaken. Blank was staring him down, frowning. Through the snow he managed to see the worried expression on Blank's face.

"Why'd you stop? You ok?"

He nodded, a wan smile on his lips.

"Yeah…m' just c-cold." He reiterated lamely. "I'm kinda' tired too." …And then some, but being cold was at the top of his list.

"Well", Blank began begrudgingly. "We might just have to try an' get to that Inn first and wait out the storm. I'm sick of looking, and the weather's too bad to go back now— even if we did get the supplies first."

To be honest, he wasn't sure how much longer they could spend walking in the frigidness. At the Inn, maybe they could even spare a few gil for a nice meal to go with a warm bed. Tomorrow they could get their deeds done. The air trams would undoubtedly have been shut down in this kind of weather anyway. It was best to rest for now. No reason to be stupid about it.

"Yeah, that's what we'll do," He confirmed to himself, sighing and leaning forward to hug the shivering boy now in front of him in an attempt to warm him up. "Gotta' get your lanky ass warmed up."

Zidane laughed, nodding into the awkward embrace.

He looked up with a cheeky grin of his own. "Y-yeah, a warm bed would be a first t-this season." A silent chill swept through him as he spoke, making him shiver. He had to cough, his chest feeling a tad tight. "M-might even find a hot babe to share it with."

Blank shook his head out of habit, not out of anger.

"Right," He agreed with a chuckle. "And there won't be any Cinna to roll on you while you sleep."

They could easily remember winter life back at their 'home'. The icy chill of a lofty clock tower hideout held no comparison to the warmth of a well built, hospitable Inn.

"Alrighty, it's settled then; to the Inn we go."

Blank's mood had returned to the sulky irritability he was beginning to know well. It had been close to an hour after the two had last spoken with each other, and the calm air between the two was beginning to crack. It was the little things that peeved Blank off the most. When Zidane would pause, when he'd whine, hell, even when he'd crack a joke. Nothing could stop him from being negative about it. For as naturally nonchalant as he was; being in situations like this made the fire in him burn. And it took more than a joke about purple toes to settle his tiff with the world.

Being Blank's self-proclaimed partner in crime, Zidane knew he didn't mean half the things he said. He knew he was mad, and when Blank got mad he was rather uncontrollable. It never changed their friendly relationship. Maybe it was because Blank's anger never lasted long, or because Zidane knew Blank would eventually give in. Most times he would, finally surrendering with a laugh when Zidane went to the extreme in trying to cheer him up, even if it was something stupid.

"Damn it," Blank snarled, trying to trudge through the heavily falling snow. His jaunting yell was nearly silenced by the howling wind when his boot got caught in a pocket of ice beneath the surfacing snow. He lashed out with his foot, body swinging back; enclosed fists coming close to knocking his friend clean out. 'Next time it'll be Baku who gets supplies, and I'll laugh all the way to the Southern Continent when his fat ass gets stuck in a hole', he thought evilly, his lips drawn tight with revenge.

Where was that damn Inn anyway? It had to be nearby, given the familiar housing plans and white dusted brick buildings. The business district was big, but not that big.

"How the hell am I supp— there!"

He pointed up to the partly covered sign just ahead, the flanky wood swaying with the sharp winds. His friend sighed with relief, hurrying to follow Blank's path in the snow as they made their way to the front of the Inn.

"Finally," the younger breathed, shaking the snow from his hair once they were inside.

The inn keeper looked over from the book in his hands, almost surprised to see them. He stuttered, plopping the registry book onto the counter and scrambling for his chart and pen.

"G-good evening Sirs, how may I help you?"

Blank walked up to him calmly, trying to ignore the rapidly melting snow in his hair. "Have any rooms available?" He knew they would, given the storm. But it was nice to ask.

The inn keeper nodded. "Yes Sir, we do." He hesitated, toying with the end of his pen as he initiated small talk with his newcomers. "I'll have to be honest I didn't think we'd get very many customers due to the weather. But, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. After all, we've already filled five out of six rooms!" He laughed openly, opening the chart. "And how long will you be staying, Sir? Just tonight? Or will you be staying for an extra day?"

The red head looked over at his friend in question, his gaze following the other's movements. Covered in snow from head to toe, he was currently patting himself dry. And by the looks of it he was trying to stay close to the set of candles aflame near the windows as well.

Blank smiled towards the act, watching him smooth down the strands of unruly hair that had been a bit frazzled with the dampness of the snow. Chuckling, he reversed to concur: "Just one night, maybe more if the storm doesn't let up. But, we'll let you know if we need to stay here longer."

He received a nod to which, the elder man hastily jotted down their information. The man only looked up once after, and the thought of suspicion ran through Blank's mind. Did he think they were using fake names? Or were the blatant stitches across his face too appealing tonight?

He was ready to leave it go. That was, until the man stole another glance his way. And this time; it was his neck. "I have more than that," He told the curious man. "Many more."

Bitten by nervousness, the man faltered in pulling the registry book from sight, fingers fumbling clumsily. "Did a dog get to ya'? Looks pretty bad."

"No," he answered honestly, his voice cavalier. He must've told the story a thousand times, some with the censorship, some without. It was all the same, no matter how he told the tale. "Comes with the life on the streets. Some, I was born with."

He thought it best not to mention his thievery background, given the fact they needed a warm place to stay for the night without being ushered to leave for a crime they hadn't yet committed.

"Oh… you were born with scars?" Such odd birthmarks…

The man's expression flashed something along the lines of sympathy, but it was hard to tell through all the wrinkles in age. Instead, the senior pointed to the younger, blonde haired boy. "He an orphan too?" He asked curiously, formal sincerity lost. "You guys don't really look alike…you traveling together?"

Blank nodded to the first question, answering the second. "Something like that."

Zidane was barely paying any attention to their conversation. With his arms around his chest he shivered. The snow had melted, leaving behind the cold dampness to seep through his clothes. And it only made things worse. Now he was really cold. He rubbed the chill from his arms, sighing. He sniffled, feeling his head suddenly go warm with the sudden shift in temperature.

The homey little knickknacks that lined the windows caught his eye, giving him a moment's reprieve from his own bodily chill. They were glass figures and crystallized candles, each one idolizing the item of the family unit. Zidane's features softened as he fingered them, turning one in particular to face him. It was of a couple; a man and a woman holding a young child in their arms. It was only them there, smiling and looking at him in their glassy gaze. They looked so… So happy. 'Like a real family.'

The subtle laughing behind him was suddenly reassuring, and he turned to face his friend.

"Hey you, ya' feelin' any better?"

"Nah," He said, his smile automatic, "Still freezin'. And now my clothes are all soggy..." It was a near whine, and Blank couldn't help but grin.

"Oh, you baby. Suck it up. We can hang our clothes up in our room to dry when we go to sleep. No biggie."

Zidane huffed, scrunching up his mouth in a prominent pout. "We don't have anything else to wear…!" He hesitated before deciding, "And what are we supposed to do until we go to sleep? I'm already bored."

Being in the buff for the remainder of the night didn't really faze him, but that meant he'd have to stay in their room. And being cooped up wasn't exactly his first choice in activities.

"What happened to you being 'tired'?"

"Tired of walking! I didn't mean tired as in sleepy tired." He lifted one of his soaked boots in illustration. "My feet are freezing; I still can't feel 'em."

Rubbing his face, Blank groaned. Zidane could be such a child sometimes.

Regrettably he realized he didn't have anything else to add to the argument. Defeated, he let Zidane win, his silence being his answer.

"Um, Sirs?" The inn keeper broke their silence, trying to get their attention. "Sorry to interrupt, but, we have a new indoor spring if you need something to do. Ah, courtesy of Master Cid of course. And it's also heated."

Both boys stared for a moment. Was it possible for a spring to be in an ordinary town? Weren't they only in places such as exotic mountain cubbies and isolated forest rings?

"It's new for the season, figured it would attract more people to the location for the winter. Think of it as…an indoor hot spring. Brand new invention!"

Go figure. Cid with his inventive nature and the never ending need for success in Lindblum, it was only a matter of time. Technology is so astounding sometimes. What would they come up with next, heated beds?

That would be nice.

"Where is it? Is it open now?" Zidane asked, and Blank couldn't tell if it was out of excitement, or curiosity.

"Ah yes, sorry about that. It's open. If you go right down that hall behind the stairs; it's right past the sliding doors. We didn't have the room to accommodate such a large thing, so Master Cid paid for the necessary renovations last fall. Do enjoy yourselves once you get settled in." He bowed in silence, settling back in his simple chair behind the counter.

Luckily for Zidane, he didn't need to be told twice. He was off in a flash, racing down the hallway like a preying Zagnol during the Hunting Festival. His slick boots clamored heavily over the wood of the floorboards, and Blank grimaced like a burdened mother. He shook his head at the sight of his friend running rampant through the newly renovated Inn. And somewhere, a part of him was worried that he would fall. His eyes watched those iced boots skid over the wood.

"It's not going to disappear you know," He told the overly energetic boy with a frown, trying to calm him down some. "All you're doing is disturbing the other people here."

But the hopping thief continued about his rounds with unyielding ears. He tried to pull the doors to the new room open, eager to jump right in, dirty clothes and all. He yelped when a hand gripped his tail tightly, yanking him back.

The force of it sent him to the floor and he sat there, pouting like a child.

"You tryin' a kill everyone? You ain't going nowhere near that water 'til you wash the dirt off that grimy little body of yours first," Blank scolded him, tail still tight in his hand.

"Ok, ok! Just leggo've my tail already," his captive whined, his body helplessly submissive.

Grinning, Blank gave him the mercy. His grip loosened, watching the animated limb as it flicked out of his reach, and curled into its owner's lap protectively.

Sometimes, Blank thought absentmindedly, that tail had a mind of its own. In moments like these— and with no indication from Zidane— it was never clear what was the controlling force behind the movements. Even now, Zidane's face was blank, his eyes forward and unemotional as he stroked the ruffled fur.

"C'mon," Blank coaxed gently, ruffling the boy's hair. "Let's go get cleaned up."

He turned to walk the opposite way, pleased to hear the other boy soon following him. The main door to the hallway was still open, and he walked through to get to the staircase. The inn keeper threw him a smile as both he and Zidane walked up, their boots leaving wet foot prints in the dried wood. No doubt someone else would clean their mess.

"Once we bathe we can head back down, so I suggest you get your butt in that tub," Blank teased, looking for their room number. When he found it he opened the door, peering in around the clean room.

"Take your shoes off right here," He said. "Don't make me walk in your mud."

Said boy only gave a wicked grin. "What are you, my mother?"

"If I have to be, then yes. You can be so damn hard headed sometimes." He turned to stop the other before he came any further. "And hang your coat up. The snow on it's melting."

Zidane just rolled his eyes, removing his long, wooly coat as Blank had done and leaning down to peel his soaked boots off at the door.

He was eager to make it to the small bathroom inside their room, wasting no time in jumping into the spacious tub and tossing off his clothes. But he had to struggle with the garments first. "This'll only be like what, three seconds?"

Blank stared through the open doorway, raising an eyebrow at him while he undressed himself.

"You know you could at least close the door."

"Yeah," The other agreed, turning on the water. "But it would take longer."

Rolling his eyes, Blank closed the door himself.

'Some things never change.' Silently to himself, he undressed, temporarily placing his accessories on the closest stand nearby. There by the lamp he noticed a clean stack of what looked liked towels. They were folded nicely, each one of the four stacked neatly atop each other in a stack. He picked one up, surprised to feel just how soft they were.

While Zidane was scrubbing himself, Blank busied himself with setting two of those towels aside on the bed. He figured they could use them during their walk to and from the spring on the bottom level of the Inn. They couldn't very well go using their already dirty clothes.

A sound vibrated through the air, and Blank turned to pick it up. With his head cocked, he squinted, a smile ready on his lips.

"Is he…humming?"

Curious footstep led him back to the bathroom door, where he listened closely to confirm that yes; he was humming.

Blank snickered to himself, amused. "You having fun in there?"

The humming stopped, and Blank silently wished it hadn't. He'd rather liked the sound.

Moments passed…

"Okay, I'm done!" Zidane shouted, jumping out from door and nearly knocking Blank over. Blank stared at his nude form in surprise, wet and dripping. For once his mind gave him nothing more than a blank sheet. He grasped for something to say. Anything. That's when he remembered; the towels.

He handed him one, pointing to his waist.

"Here, use this and wait here. We can go back downstairs once I'm done."

The tailed thief was already bouncing with excited anticipation, patting himself dry before his given towel was wrapped loosely around his waist. "Hurry up!" He shouted after him. "You're so slow, Blank!"

Blank shook his head, sighing as he walked into the bathroom to wash himself.

—.—

Trying to contain Zidane was another job in itself, especially when they walked back downstairs. There was a spring to the younger male's step, tail bouncing like a mirrored image. Being good natured was something that came natural for Zidane. Even though the towel wrapped around his waist was the only sense of warmth he had now, he kept a smile on his face.

Blank was behind him of course, but he didn't have to try and guess that the goofy grin Zidane loved to show was back on his face. He could picture him as he always had, and like a flash of light that grin would always be there.

It was his trademark. His style.

It was Zidane.

"What do you think it looks like? Anything like the ones in Pinnacle Rocks?"

Although he'd been excited to be able to see the new contraption, he'd since mellowed out. It might have had something to do with the chill in the air. He already had goose bumps. "Wonder if it's small or big…"

Blank shook his head, a smile lifting his cheeks. "Probably big. It's built for more than person, obviously."

"Yeah, I guess." Zidane held his breath, taking hold of the sliding doors in front of him. "Well, here goes!"

The doors opened, and light from the hallway poured into the spacious room.

And it was beautiful.

In the center was a manila screen that divided the room. Lavishly decorated shelves covered the wall, golden drawings covering the wallpaper like a tribal tattoo. There were tiny lamps stationed in various places, keeping the delicate lighting just so, and giving the room a nice romantic touch.

The spring itself was lined with polished wood, the water looking a little too enticing with its steamy appearance.

On one side the women could enjoy a nice soak, while the men could stay on the separate side and do the same.

Well…for those males like Zidane it might be only slightly different.

Though the room was darkened, the lamps gave off the same light as a candle would; allowing everything to be seen, yet not as detailed. It was enough to pull the shadows of the others on the other side of that thin divider through.

"Looks promising," Blank muttered.

Already in the water on the female side were the slim silhouettes of four women. Each of the four was giggling amongst themselves, their voices light, with breasts barely below the surface.

"…Are they naked?" Zidane asked, leaning close to Blank in a startled whisper.

Blank nodded. "Course they are. Aren't we pretty much naked, too?"

It took a moment for Zidane to adjust. He was starting to like these indoor springs more and more. He coughed, trying not to get too excited over imagining what could be seen of the women on the other side.

"Well, this is different."

During Zidane's bewilderment, Blank had already preoccupied himself with studying the room. He'd read the wooden plaques hanging on the wall; tales and facts of how the invention of these indoor hot Springs were created.

A spring such as this was a 'mature' spring as these were often called. Catering to adults only, it was a place where people could enjoy the pleasures of the hot water in the nude while chatting with the other people relaxing there as well. The reasoning behind the slim crème divider was probably as well.

There was the ever prominent 'No Sex' rule, which many found humorous. Such a rule rarely stopped people from touching. There were rumors from Treno, of the women sneaking into the men's side, and of the same sex sins being committed underneath the surface of the steaming liquid.

Some of the larger cities even allowed alcohol near the springs, another reason as to why the indoor springs were becoming more and more popular throughout Gaia. It was a technology created by a traveling inventor who, upon his travels to the greats springs hidden in the pinnacle rocks, wished to be able to lounge in that same water again without having to make the long trip. He found that by finding a way to keep the water heated in a single container, there could be a way to invent a thrifty man-made hot spring.

His idea was patented by Cid in Lindblum, and from there the invention only soared. All the major cities had them now.

Surprisingly, only recently had the one in Lindblum been built. With the rave about the new hot springs, the stress had been set on the new bathing buildings in the other major cities first since it had been summer.

And now with winter here, Lindblum finally got their own, well awaited hot spring, conveniently built within the newly refurbished Lindblum Inn.

Zidane was walking around the edge of the crafted wood siding, eyes flirting with the slim divider. "What luck," He said, feet avoiding the water. "We got some company! And what better company than a coupl'a pretty women."

Blank shook his head. He wasn't about to ask why it was Zidane thought the women were beautiful. All they could see were their shadows. For all they knew those girls could be the most horrid creatures they've ever seen. Zidane could be far too imaginative sometimes…

Blank decided against the argument. Instead he found himself curious. "There a reason why you're not getting in?"

Zidane stopped his pacing. "No reason," He said, feet a little too jumpy. But he still wasn't getting into the water.

The silhouettes turned their heads towards the divider, smiling unseen smiles as the two nude males walked in front of their view. Blank could tell Zidane was already scheming a way to win the women's hearts over, most likely fantasizing about the possibility of an orgy.

Though no promiscuous acts were not allowed, he was always the first to want to break the rules.

In his mind; no one would turn him down. If he wanted them, they would want him back. If they didn't, Zidane would act unaffected and joke it off his dignified shoulder, moving onto the next of interest.

Why he felt he needed so much attention was beyond Blank's train of thought.

Placing the towel on the appropriate rack and getting into the steaming water, Blank perched himself near the edge. He sighed comfortably. It was better than he could've imagined; like being back in the warmth of a mother's womb.

Zidane was doing his usual 'horse strut' as Blank called it; his towel slipping down his legs gracefully as he entered the spring slowly, his chest puffed out like some kind of Pride Bird of Prey. It was definitely a sight.

Blank tugged him down into the water before he could embarrass himself further, reminding him that the divider wasn't a brick wall. The water splashed up as he fell and Zidane turned to scowl at his friend, sputtering through all the water.

"What was that for?!"

"…You realize how ridiculous you looked?"

"Please," Zidane said proudly, poking his chest with his pointer finger. "I bet they're over there 'n already talkin' 'bout me."

"…You say that like it's a good thing."

They both looked over at the giggling bunch of girls on the other side. Their graceful hands were shadowed, but it didn't take much to tell they were trying to lighten their laughter.

Zidane was still determined to believe that it was a good thing. "See? C'mon Blank. Let's go talk to 'em."

Blank shook his head. "No thanks. I'm fine right here."

"Oh come on! We could each get two of 'em!"

The red head visibly grimaced. Hearing Zidane's casual talk of women was sometimes degrading to the entire male species. Though his younger friend cared for women he could also be rather crude when it came to looking for sex.

He looked over again. "Again, no thanks." He paused, "…Not my type."

That usually silenced him. It did any other time. It was kind of a…neutral way to say he didn't care.

Zidane was taken aback. "Whaaaat? You can't even see em'! How can they not be your type?"

Apparently not.

"Zidane," Blank said firmly. "Life isn't just about women, you know. Sa' stop buggin' me about it."

The other frowned, sneaking another peak at the shadows of his renewed fantasy. "Fine then."

The younger set his eyes on his goal, swimming over to the divider. His smile returned.

"Hey ladies." His voice was smooth. "What about this spring? Nice, huh?"

One of them turned to his voice, a sour flirtation as his response. "Aren't you just cute. Sorry, hun, but if you're planning on hitting on us, trust me when I say that we're not interested."

"Why don't you come on over here so I can prove that gorgeous voice wrong?"

He could have swore he heard one of them snort.

"Why don't you just stay over there, we'll stay over here, and we can all act like the other doesn't exist?"

"Huh?"

Blank was blissfully ignoring them, stretching out his toes to squirm under the water's surface. For the first time in a long time he had the chance to relax, to really relax. He wasn't about to waste it on a bunch of women. Not if he was concerned.

"So..." Zidane retried, clearing his throat. "You girls—"

"Ugh, nice try. No thanks."

'Jeeze, just give me a chance…' "Okay then…maybe later?"

"Maybe never." Was the whisper.

Zidane must've not heard that last part, because he didn't look as hurt as he might've been. Oh well, there would always be other opportunities, right? Hotter ones too. With bigger breasts.

Temporarily defeated, Zidane returned to Blank's side and slide down up to his chin in the heated water. His sudden sigh turned euphorical, moaning some, and earning a questionable look form the other at his side. He sank completely below the water, and Blank raised an eyebrow.

Oh woe is me?

He was so melodramatic.

"This really is nice," Zidane admitted randomly once he reappeared. "It's really warm, and it even smells good!"

Blank could think of something else that held those same descriptions, but he decided it was best to keep to himself. He only smiled, tipping his head back against the edge to relax.

"Hey Blank," Zidane began sincerely. "What's your…type, of girl?"

Zidane had never really asked him before. The thought had hit him suddenly, and he was just itching to ask. What was his type? And why had Zidane never seen it? Sure, he'd seen Blank flirt with women plenty of times. He'd even seen him bed them— something a single cramped room promised when the boys brought women back— during the prime of his days. Women swooned over him! But what was his type? It had to be a foreign type of girl, one Zidane had never seen, considering Blank never discussed it openly.

"Hmm, I don't know," Blank murmured through a playful sigh. "I like the look of blonde hair, so she's gotta' have blonde hair."

"Blondes are hot," Zidane agreed, nodding.

"Pale skin is nice but, I don't want her to be too pale. I like 'em with a little tan to their tone."

"Sun babes!"

"And," Blank said, suspiciously eying Zidane. "A girl with tinted eyes, like an aquamarine. The kind of eyes you never know if they're really greener or bluer."

"Eye color never really mattered to me…" Zidane admitted impishly. "As long as the girl's hot, should it matter?"

Ignoring him, Blank continued. "And she's gotta' have nice legs. I don't like them anorexic, no ass types. I like to have something to grab onto when I fuck 'em."

Zidane's mouth was open in blatant surprise, and he tried to hold back the snicker. "I didn't think you were capable of dirty-talk. Woah-ho-ho, I'm surprised." He laughed, putting a hand to his chest like a noble woman would.

"Once every blue moon, I get the urge," He said, mimicking his laugh.

"So," Zidane was curious. "This dream girl of yours…you ever see one like her on the streets?"

"Well, I have one in mind. And yeah, I've seen her a couple times." He placed a thoughtful hand to his chin. "Come to think of it; I've seen her a lot."

"Really? She from here? She has to be! Have I seen her?"

"She doesn't really talk about where she came from. Well, not where her real home is, anyway. You might've seen her a coupl'a times."

Pursing his lips, Zidane commented. "She the shy type?"

"Mmn, not really. She has her…moments, but overall she's the kind who's more out there, I guess." He was already stifling his laugh. "She's very loud, sometimes."

Apparently, Zidane took it the wrong way. "You had sex with her? And I still don't know who she is?"

Blank shook his head. "No, I' didn't. I meant obnoxious loud, you oaf. Get your mind out of the gutter for a minute." He rubbed his face. "You might know her."

Sighing, Zidane returned to his lethargic state. "She sounds beautiful."

Blank grinned. "She is."

The most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

Blank's thoughts flowed freely as he continued to sit there in a languid sway, thoughts of someone he longed for dancing through his mind. The memories played of golden brown and blue, of tamed greens and whites, and formed the figure of someone that drove him so wild when his thoughts strayed too far.

It should have been a sin to be so attractive. It drove him wild with need. And he thought it was so unfair that he had to stare at it every day of his life, no matter where he was.

The perfect person. Too perfect.

Full, curvy lips that looked so tender and soft, a long, slender face, wide, swirling eyes, and a lovely curving body structure that had him pulling his own reigns nearly every night, holding him back to keep from fantasizing too much.

Definitely the right type.

There was a pleasant thrum between his spreading legs, completing his wandering thoughts. He let it go, allowing his erection to sway with the warm flow of the water, letting the temperature further excite him. He liked it; just being hard. It made his little fantasies seem all the more interesting.

Besides, it wasn't like Zidane was just going to reach out and grab him. What did he have to worry about? Besides falling asleep and drowning?

Surprised, Blank's body jolted when something soft curled around his naked thigh. Well that was unexpected.

He let his eyes trail down, the sandy blur of the culprit constricting his skin a little too tightly. His eyes kept steady on it, debating on whether or not he'd deny the simple touch. It did feel good, even if it did tickle him, even if it did wrap too tightly. Now if only it moved a little higher…

Blank couldn't hold back the husky rumble in his chest, a breathy grunt making its way from his lips. He could have swore he felt something touching him…sweeping across his heated groin in a single fleeting touch.

It couldn't have been that tail, not when it was still wrapped around his thigh. Or had it moved?

He was going to say something, but when he turned he noticed Zidane was already turned from him.

Did he even realize what he was doing?

Zidane was slouched over, still chin deep in the water. He hadn't said anything in a while, which was odd for him. His hands, Blank guessed, were in front of him. But all he could see were the sides of his shoulders and his head.

When had he sunk so low?

Zidane's eyes were half lidded, as if dozing off, with his lips slightly parted. He looked a little spaced out, sitting there, like that. Maybe the hot temperature was getting to him. It was getting pretty hot…

Blank reached over to grab Zidane's arm and get his attention. Maybe it was best they leave. Blank could always pinch himself to relieve the excitement in his loins, and he could always pinch Zidane just for good measure.

However…

…Zidane's hands were not ahead of him. They were moving, albeit very slowly, grasping at something between his legs.

Oh, great cocks think alike.

Blank jumped when Zidane did, reacting to his touch.

"Don't you dare!" Blank shouted, smacking his friend in the head. "Stop that! We're in public!"

"…So?"

"So cut it out! You'll dirty the water. And get your tail offa' me!"

Some part of him wished he'd known earlier. Maybe it was because some small part of him wanted to imagine the younger working his own penis underneath the water. Maybe he wanted to watch his face when he came, and maybe he wanted to act as if he didn't know what Zidane was doing, when really…he loved to watch him.

But he didn't feel right since they were in a public place. Never mind the fact that there were naked women so close by. Something about that just sent him into a rather conservative mood. It was almost as if he were embarrassed. But embarrassed about what? Embarrassed, or afraid?

Would someone catch on to his little game of peek and never tell?

No one was there when they were alone, to catch him staring, catch him secretly watching Zidane pleasure himself underneath their covers at night. He knew for a fact Zidane always kept a bundle of tissue stashed away in one of his pockets for those times when he needed to masturbate, but couldn't get out of bed without waking someone.

Blank never did complain about having to share a bed with the younger thief.

"But Blaaaank," Zidane whined, looking up at him with a cheeky smile.

"But nuthin'. Stop grossin' people out. At least wait until we get back upstairs."

"S'jus me an you…what's the big deal?" Since when do you care?

"Yeah; me, you, and four other people on the other side of that thing," Blank said irritably, gesturing to the divider. "Forget about them?"

Blank said he didn't want Zidane pleasuring himself there but, he knew he was lying. Well, might be. He'd have no problem with his younger friend committing such a selfish sin so close to him. But under the circumstances…

Blank kept his right hand still, moving it stealthily under the water to give quick, little pinches to the head of his cock, feeling it go limp almost immediately. He sighed, and Zidane whined pitifully.

He was having trouble.

"But it won't go down…"

Blank held his hand to his face and shook his head. "So think of somethin' else."

Zidane squirmed. "Like what…? I just wa—"

"Like the Queen of Alexandria in a thong."

" . . . "

Silence fell over the two, and Blank began to laugh when Zidane made a disgusted groan.

"I'm gonna' be scarred forever now!"

"Told ya'," He told him, snickering, "Always works for me."

Zidane stared at him in disbelief, eyes wide. "…You think of her naked?"

His breath came out in a huff as Blank pushed away from the edge. "Only when I don't want to have an erection for a month."

He massaged his neck, rolling his head from side to side before looking back towards Zidane. "So, you ready to go back yet? I'm startin'a get all pruney."

"Yeah," Zidane admitted. "I guess…"

When Zidane stood, Blank stole a quick peek at his lower half. Though he was mostly limp now, there was still a buoyant bounce to it. Blank nearly reached out to give it a jaunting tug, wanting to make a joke out of it. But…that might be interpreted as something else. Entirely.

He lifted himself up, watching as Zidane went hopping over to his towel, fretting over how freezing the air was against his wet skin. But that's natural. When your wet, and in hot water for a long time, the winter air always feels colder.

Blank couldn't deny the shiver across his skin. It was cold.

So he couldn't make a joke about it, so what? He'd probably have plenty more times to make fun of his younger friend. So instead, he ruffled the boy's hair teasingly, pulling back when Zidane struck back, yelling something incoherent.

"'Bout time Lindblum had something more than good beer to offer," Zidane said once he was dry, his fumbling fingers trying to tuck the dampened towel around his hips.

It was Blank's turn to shrug. "I guess."

With his towel wrapped more securely around his waist, he glanced to Zidane to make sure he'd done the same. "You ready to go?"

Zidane nodded, lips a tight line. "Yup!"

What was cold before turned colder still. Fire melted, ice dissolved. There was suddenly an itch in Blank, a tremble crawling up his spine. Something was about to happen, something…like Zidane.

In the hallway he noticed a group of four women as equally wrapped in their individual towels. So they were leaving the room the same time as them? Blank groaned reasonably, knowing Zidane would draw the connection.

Which he did.

"Hey…" Zidane spoke up slowly, motioning to the females trying to ignore him. He was already sliding over to them, to which they half glared in response. "You look a lot better than your sexy shadows…and I thought women couldn't get any more beautiful. You're the best looking girls I've ever seen."

Already, the excitement of the naked skin made Zidane quiver, a rush of heat gliding past his thighs in a brief encounter. He willed himself to calm down— lest he ruin his chances at enticing one of them to his bed.

One of them, a brunette, looked him over before giggling. "And I had no idea how short you were."

Zidane's smirk twitched but he threw it off easily. So they wanted to play hard to get? He liked to think he was prepared for any situation.

"Trust me; I know how to please a gorgeous lady such as yourself. I make it my profession. So I'm a lil' shorter; just means I can reach them beautiful womanly curves better…"

"Sorry," The red head spoke up mockingly, fondling his hair before brushing past him. "We're just not interested in a little boy like you."

"Wha—"

A hand clamped over Zidane's mouth. Blank grunted, finally stepping in and saying, "Pay no mind my little brother. He's a bit out of his mind."

Now embarrassed himself, Blank was willing to do anything to get them out the situation. It was already clear they didn't want Zidane's company, but Zidane just wasn't taking the hint. And blank didn't really feel like getting kicked out for harassment.

"You should keep a better eye on him then. A kid like him shouldn't even be allowed near beautiful women. How rude."

Kid?

"I promise," Blank agreed falsely, bowing lightly to them. "He won't bother you again."

Little brother?

The women giggled again, shaking their heads humorously as they passed the two males previously in front of them. Zidane's shoulders slumped when Blank pulled his hand free.

"…Your little brother?"

Blank frowned, resisting the urge to rub his face. "Yeah, so what. Should be glad I didn't say little sister. What do you want from me?"

"Some respect would be nice!"

Rolling his eyes, Blank scoffed. "This coming from someone who only has respect for himself?"

"Since when!" Zidane shouted. "You're such a liar, Blank."

"Yeah, whatever."

Zidane visibly cringed. Ooh, there was nothing he hated more than hearing Blank say 'whatever'. It sounded too much like a very rude dismissal when he said it, and Blank only said it during arguments, when he wanted to piss Zidane off.

"Augh! I hate that word."

Knowing him all too well, Blank chuckled to himself. He wasn't really taking the fight too seriously. All things considered it happened a lot when they were together. They were always about something dismal and unimportant, but it always ended up being some lame argument in the end, one that had them both wondering what the hell either of them was fighting over.

This was most definitely one of those times.

"Bullshit, you know you love it. Now," He said, deciding he'd rather not stand naked in a hallway and fight with Zidane. "If you don't mind, I'm going upstairs. I'm tired, and I'm not about to fight over somethin' so stupid."

Sticking his hands on his hips, Zidane pouted irritably. "What if I do mind?"

Blank shrugged, already walking away. "Too bad."

Sighing, Zidane knew he'd lost.

He followed behind him up the stairs, unconsciously admiring the other's height. Was he always so tall? He had such a strong back too, even if it was covered in scars and stitches. Discolored or not it still looked appealing. It looked almost like knitted map, with patches missing, the holes being filled in by whatever cloth could be found. And…Zidane found himself wanting to touch it.

'Man, why isn't this guy covered in girls…?'

Covered with battle wounds…isn't that what young girls liked to look at? It showed strength and intelligence, didn't it? And…what did they call it? Oh yeah, ruggedness. And Blank was pretty handsome to boot.

"Hey, Blank?" He asked once back inside their room, curiosity getting the better of him. Blank made a noise and glanced his way, not stopping in checking to see if their clothes had dried yet. "Why didn't you hit on them girls?"

"What kind of a dumb ass question is that?"

"Blank...I'm serious."

Blank sighed, setting their clothes neatly on the bedspreads. "Unlike you, I don't hit on every girl I see. C'mere," He motioned for him. "Come put your clothes on before you freeze. It's not that warm in here."

Well, wasn't he just adoringly lackadaisical about it? Or was he trying to avoid the seriousness of the conversation altogether?

"No, I mean…they were cute, right?"

"Of course they were," Blank said simply. "Now put on your damn clothes, Zidane."

There was a tangible strictness in his tone, and Zidane had to think twice about what he'd just heard. "Alright," was the best he could come up with. He couldn't help but wonder why his friend was disregarding his question, and trying to alter it to suit his answers better. And what was that look he just gave him all about? You can stop being the mother now, Blank.

And awkward silence followed the end of the minimal conversation, and Blank was already sitting on his own bed when Zidane decided to speak up.

"…Are you mad now? 'Cause of what I said?" He was also on a bed, sitting somewhat on the edge with his tail so lifelessly limp behind him. Now that he was dressed, Zidane could agree he was less cold.

"No," Blank answered, laying back. "Why would I be?"

"I dunno'…"

Maybe it's that estranged way you look sometimes, when you think no one is watching.

Zidane scratched an invisible scratch on the back of his head, clearing his throat through all the awkwardness. What was with today, anyway? Since when couldn't they keep a conversation going? They were always the ones to chat it up, sometimes even talking all through the night, talking about what they'd steal the next day and how they'd do it. Or even about their little pub escapades.

But now?

Nothing.

Zidane mimicked Blank's slanted position, opting for sleep instead of the distilled aroma of stony silence.

Silently, Zidane thought to himself. Blank hadn't been himself lately. He was more irritable than he used to be, and less approachable. He used to be the type to crack the first joke. Now, he was the one to smack Zidane over the head for making one. He used to be so outgoing...but now he's more of an orderly grump.

Blank and Zidane…used to be real close friends.

What of them now? They couldn't even hold a serious conversation anymore. And each time Zidane tried to make him laugh he would only be scorned. He used to always give in and just be happy…

What was he supposed to do if Blank just wanted to be anti-social all day? What then?

A bitter sigh tore from his throat. 'What happened to you…'

What happened to my friend?

—.—

….what was that?

There was a foreign noise at the wall, the one so close to Zidane's stationary bed. He jumped, jolting awake in an instant.

"Wha—"

He hadn't realized when he'd fallen asleep, but apparently it wasn't that long ago, for Blank was still awake across the room, calmly laying down in the last position Zidane saw him in.

The noise was followed by more, and this time; it was a little more familiar.

Blank looked from the view of his feet on the bed. It wasn't difficult to distinguish the languid giggles from the creases in the age old wood. And it wasn't particularly difficult to hear the creaks of the beds in the other room as well. The walls were thin, the smallest of sounds sounding surround even in their room.

Blank was trying to sleep through it, despite his current troubles of trying already. He was too tired to even try to get aroused by the possibility of girls going at it like animals in the room right next to them. It would have been all too easy to masturbate in the small bed he was laying on, and he was sure his roommate wouldn't mind. But again; he was far too tired.

When the noises returned, Blank groaned, a little irritated.

"Whoa, you hear that?"

And of course, Captain hard dick had to voice his opinions.

So much for sleep.

He growled in annoyance, rubbing his tired face with a lazy hand. "Yes," he groaned. "And?"

Zidane was leaning towards the wall, right ear pressed heavily over the peeling wallpaper. His eyes were wide open, boyish immaturity shining through. "I think they're…"

Boy, he was fully awake now.

The words died in his throat. Zidane continued to listen with a harsh swallow. He could hear the voices coming from the girls he'd met earlier. He could hear them turn from playful to sexual in the blink of an eye. And he could almost feel them touching, his mind's eye playing out an awfully sinful scene. With breasts so young and pert, bodies so slender and lean, skin so soft…and faces so beautiful it was all too easy to picture them on top of one another. It drove his hormones wild, his instincts primal. He hardly recognized the moan he'd let slip from his lips until he heard the chuckle.

Instantly he drew back from the wall, flushed with embarrassment.

"Enjoying it a little too much over there?"

"Um…no…well— not really, I…"

Blank laughed openly. "Right," He sat up. "And the friend in your pants is telling another story."

Zidane could smell the oncoming nosebleed when he looked down. "Damn it!" He swore, pulling his knees to his chest and bending over them.

It was easy to poke fun at the blushing boy, Blank thought, but it was more entertaining to watch.

"Wanna' switch beds? You can't hear em' so much over here."

Zidane swallowed hard. "Um…" It was hard to concentrate when the voices accelerated into gasps, needy whispers rocketing up the walls like star streams. He tried to think, tried not to hone in on the activities so close by.

"Uh…no, I'm okay."

Watching his friend being so euphorically hidden made something in Blank twist. He kept watching, paying close attention each time that tongue darted out to wet those pale lips, the way his fingers tapped erratically on his knees, and the way his eyes would widen to what his ears were hearing. And suddenly; Blank didn't feel so tired. As a matter of fact he felt quite alive.

Zidane cleared his throat, turning his head to steal a quick glance in Blank's direction. He had to make a surprised double take when he saw the prominent look staring back at him. He coughed again.

"…What?"

"Nuthin'," Blank answered, feeling the corners of his mouth twitch into a joke of a smile.

"…Then why're you staring at me like that?"

Blank leaned forward and held the edges of his mattress. "Who says it's you I'm lookin' at?"

Looking back at the wall, Zidane figured Blank was referring to the women next door. Maybe…he was finally admitting he liked them? Zidane smiled wide and nodded.

"Oh I get it!" He laughed. "I told you! No one can resist girls that hot!"

Shaking his head when Zidane turned his, Blank sighed.

'No, you don't get it.'

The noises on the other side of the wall only grew louder, and Blank could clearly see the chill along Zidane's smooth skin. Even from his distance he could see him holding his breath, his tail so still over the side of the bed that it looked fake. Whether the audio of the live show was coming to a climax or not it was apparent how tense his Zidane was.

Well, if they weren't going to sleep…

Intently listening, Zidane only had ears for the volume turning up the wall. His mind narrowed, and he became so unaware of his surroundings that the soft footsteps along the floor were ignored completely.

He did however manage to catch the thrum of a gentle laugh and turned, stunned to see Blank so close now.

What was he doing?

Blank was grinning, wide and wicked. "Maybe you'd like some help with that?"

Blank's breath was a whisper in his ear. It was hot, it was heavy, and it was so close that Zidane visibly flinched. He was left frozen.

"…Blank?" 'Is he joking…?'

The anxiousness was there. It was tying in a knot inside his stomach and for a moment he was nearly nauseous. There was something about that blatant stare that made him uneasy. It was so bold, so strong, so forward…

…And so dominant.

He was caught between words and actions, his tail thumping submissively between his legs. "Blank, what—"

The words caught in his throat and his breath faltered, teeth clenching at the soft touch fanning down the end inches of his tail; affectionately perverse.

"You like this…don't you?"

"U-um…" Zidane stuttered, feeling more than awkward now. "It's alright…"

Blank's hand moved gently through the bulk of hairs just at the tip, rubbing the tense muscle underneath. His eyes were on Zidane, watching the emotions pass thorough his eyes as he promptly molested the appendage in his grip.

"What's it feel like?"

Zidane fidgeted his body uncomfortably, pursing his lips. "Just…different…nice, maybe? I don't know…but it feels…funny sometimes, when someone else touches it."

"Funny how?" Blank grinned.

'Pervert,' He wanted to say, but he knew if the situation was turned around and he was with a woman he would have been playing the same tricks. The simple fact that Blank's mind was in the gutter meant only that he was fueling his own fire now.

But Zidane couldn't blend in as well with him because he wasn't used to this sort of thing; someone being so interested in his tail, and using it like some kind of kinky foreplay. He couldn't describe just how it felt to have the hand on the tip of his tail, massaging deep through the fine hairs. It was different from normal arousal, but the subtle hint was there. Then again, maybe it was the situation that made him think that way.

"…Kind of li— ah!"

He arched up and jolted back, his hand swooping down to stop the one brushing the thick fur along his tail the opposite way. "Don't do that!" He hissed, his skin crawling with a thin layer of goose bumps.

Blank chuckled. "What's wrong, feel too good?"

"It feels weird, okay…? I just…" He sighed. "Don't do that anymore."

"What, you tellin' me you'd rather go solo tonight?" He asked, grin widening. He knew he would win. He knew the other's submissive points. And Zidane's major one happened to be already within his greedy hands. Another was his willingness to let anyone at him— or so he thought— depending on how aroused he was at the time.

Blank's fingers returned to tease the seemingly sensitive fur along the end of that tail of his when Zidane let go, his fingers turning devious to pinch at the firm muscle twitching underneath. His other hand washed over the rest of the length, giving it a good rub from base to tip. "Or…are you stalling because you're put off by the fact that I have a penis?"

"No."

The answer was quick.

"It's…it's just…" He stuttered, shifting the weight on his elbows. His arms were beginning to go numb with the pressure. "…It's a little awkward."

He tried to hide his mild anxiety with a grin, his teeth tipping slightly over the curve of his lower lip. But it quickly faded into stillness when a thumb traced their chapped creases. And suddenly the air seemed warmer when he inhaled, the space too confined.

"You really should take better care; they're gettin' a little dry."

The sudden seriousness made Zidane think twice. Hadn't he just tried to seduce him? What was this now? The look behind that leather band made the gesture feel friendlier than it previously was.

"Um…"

There was a thump at the wall. Zidane jumped, becoming aware once again of the others in the other room. His head turned, the digit slipping free from his face. But it didn't stay away for long. He withdrew a surprised breath at the sudden touch to his neck. It traced the muscle from collarbone to jaw line. Fingers danced in the hollowness below his adam's apple. The coarseness from each calloused touch sent an irreversible shiver through his body.

"So," Blank began, his other hand retreating from the warmth between the other's legs to slide up the back of his white tank boldly. "You up for this or not? It's better than fucking yourself." He pushed forward like he was about to kiss him, whispering before pulling back, "And I know you're horny."

At first the hesitation was inevitable. It gave Blank the time to give another quick say.

"Of course…even if you said 'no'," He said in a low, husky voice. "I'm sure I could get you to reconsider."

Could Zidane, with the choice in partner for the night being someone he'd grown up with in his little misfit family? It was unfamiliar to think he was about to engage in a temporary physical relationship with someone he was used to being around as a close friend. Being the same sex or not; it was still weird to envision.

Zidane would hate to have to admit it, but he'd be naïve. And should he go through with it, he would have to admit to himself that Blank would be the first male to take him sexually.

Wait a minute…couldn't he be the one giving it instead? With that look Blank was giving him, he doubted he'd be given the chance.

Either way, he worried about doing something improper and losing his sexual coolness. He was so gifted with women. Men were practically an unknown species when it came to the sex. He only knew about himself.

The only thing he knew was about the only hole Blank would be entering, and that made him skeptical.

Was he really going to go through with this all for the sake of not having to masturbate?

He wasn't so sure he could.

But, in feign attempt Zidane tried to keep his courage in check, the grin back on his face, trying not to show his fear about the situation. He leaned forward with his decision made, a silent challenge ready on his lips.

"Yeah," He slurred flirtatiously. "I'm game."

—Sex scene removed by Fen-crya—

"Man…" He heard Zidane say weakly. Zidane relaxed some, his body going lax against the sheets. "That was…a lot better…than I thought…it was gonna' be…"

Blank chuckled while wiping the sweat from his forehead, pulling out and sitting up straight. "What? You doubted me?"

"No," He answered honestly. "I just…didn't think being screwed by a guy would feel so… good. Hah…I could get used to this." Realizing what he'd said, he added. "Not that I hadn't been fucked before."

Blank's smile grew, pleased with himself as he stood up on stiff legs. "Well, I'm glad to be your first then."

Zidane visibly flushed and turned around, sputtering defensively, and trying to cover up his words. "W-what? Who says you're my first?"

Giving Zidane's ass a good squeeze, Blank decided to play along. "Because," He said, picking up his garments as casually as he'd dropped them. "An ass that tight can't be well used." Then he added, "…Besides, you looked nervous."

"Uhh…" The other moaned miserably, burying his face. "That obvious?"

"It's alright. That's a good thing. It just means your little lady friends never tried to pull a fast one on ya'."

"Huh?"

At first, Zidane didn't get it. He thought maybe he was hinting at the women wanting anal. When he realized what Blank meant his embarrassment returned. Insinuating that one of his precious one night stands might have been a male in disguise was a cruel one indeed. It was a scenario of which Zidane had never thought of…Did men really do things like that, he wondered?

"Oh…but…why would they?"

"Maybe they might take one look at that gi-normous ass of yours and get a little too excited."

"Blank!" Zidane yelled. "There you go, callin' me fat again!"

He waited to hear Blank's signature chuckle. But Blank went silent. He lowered himself back onto the bed, leaning close over Zidane's face in all seriousness.

"...Watch it Zid, I happen to know a guy who really likes that ass of yours," He whispered.

Zidane swallowed anxiously, not realizing the word that slipped from his mouth. "Who?" He wet his lips, swallowing again, his eyes glancing from the other's lips to his eyes nervously.

They were inches away. Zidane shivered with Blank's warm breath patting against his lips. He was unraveling again, hooked under that same stare. He held his breath when Blank inched a little closer, stopping just before their lips touched.

But just as before, Blank pulled back from Zidane's personal space, turning things comical when he stood. A prominent smile lit up his face.

"Ah, I know a guy who knows a guy…who lives with a guy, who thinks so."

Zidane nearly fell off the bed. "Blank! You—!"

"I heard too, that whenever he can, he loves to watch you sleep…and that he sometimes watches you when you try to sneak in a bath before everyone else…when you eat…the way you walk…even when you talk…I hear he's wanted you for a long time…" He coughed. "…This guy who knows a guy who—"

"Blank…"

"Yeah, I know," Blank exclaimed with a clap of his hands, changing the subject. "I'm tired too. We should prob'ly get to sleep. The storm should be gone by tomorrow."

He walked over to his own bed, placing his clothes beside it before settling under the warmth of the woven comforter. He sighed, reaching for the bed side lamp of oriental origin. "You ready to sleep, or what?"

Zidane grimaced, probing his sheets. "But mine's all sticky…"

A careless nod. "So wipe 'em off."

"How rude…"

Blank scoffed light heartedly, nearly laughing at his friend's demise. "Take the sheets off, you numbskull."

"So," the younger said, his voice a lower tone than it had previously been. "I think I know why those girls didn't want me." He said, motioning to the now silent wall.

Blank found it funny. And ironic.

For a while Blank just laid there, fingers itching to silence the light. Zidane remained silent, his gaze averted. Still silent, his fingers began tracing the wrinkles in the fabrics. What could he be thinking, Blank wondered. He looked suddenly shy, eyes adverted down. "Hey Blank….?"

"Hm?"

A long pause.

"…Can I sleep with you tonight?"

The other turned his head, cautiously eyeing the fidgeting boy on the other bed. He watched him, his gentle smile returning. Lifting the sheets he nodded, scooting over and patting the spot beside him. "C'mon, 'n hurry up before I change my mind."

He did so, tail thumping happily over his thighs as he dove onto the other bed. He huddled close, shifting multiple times like a restless child before finally settling in. He sighed against the pillow, finding Blank's added warmth to be oddly comforting.

Shifting to lay on his side, Blank pulled Zidane flat against him, reaching to turn off the light. Then he bent down, kissing the top of Zidane's head, one arm hooked around him securely while the other fondled his tail in a gentle kind of stroking.

In the dark, Zidane wiggled a bit. "Hey…Blank…?"

"Yeah."

"That blonde chick you described…that was me, wasn't it?"

A throaty, delighted hum. "You catch on quick."

Zidane couldn't help but smile, feeling more than desired. He could almost even say it was— no, not that. Wait, was it? Was it really love he felt? The soft caresses, the gentle kisses, and he even got his old friend back! What a killer sexual tension is.

"Blank…?"

"What now, Zidane?" 'I was almost asleep…'

"…You can tell your friend…who knows a guy, who knows a guy…, who…" He said slowly, trying to remember what exactly he'd said. "…lives with a guy, that…"

He nuzzled Blank's chest just as a kitten would a human hand, inhaling his scent.

"I think…I might feel the same about him too."

The hand on his tail slithered up his side in a ticklish glide, coming up to lift his chin weightlessly.

"I will."

Dipping down one last time, Blank finally gave in, pressing his lips firmly to Zidane's. It was warm, and Blank parted his lips to suck on the other's bottom one. He nibbled gently, inducing a barely audible moan.

His free hand was gripping the back of Zidane's neck, massaging the side with his thumb. He was busy working those lips with his own, his tongue probing its mate each time they opened their mouths.

Both had a number of good experience behind them in the make out department; the known element only adding to the sensual encounter.

Zidane pushed against him as the kiss wore on, wanting somehow to get closer. He was breathless now, his right leg tangling with Blank's while his tail twisted around the other's thigh adoringly.

Blank's hand was moving across his shoulders, rubbing passionately over the curve of his hips and over his back.

"I'm glad you finally said it," Blank whispered between the kisses. "I was beginning to think you'd be a lost cause."

It was Zidane's turn to laugh, and he did so while still trying to kiss back.

When they were satisfied, Blank pulled away slowly. He looked at Zidane's lips, wet and glistening even in the dark. He grinned, wiping them with his thumb.

"Sloppy monkey."

Zidane was beside himself, beaming with pride.

After all the one night flings he's encountered; not one had stayed with him, not even until dawn. Some said he was just looking for love in all the wrong places, and going about it the wrong way. But he was convinced that love might not be right for him. He'd settled into the series of midnight romances like he did everything else he couldn't wrap his head around. He'd shrugged it off and continued to act his part.

But deep down inside he was lonely. The girls were as good as the sex, but again, it meant nothing outside of the physical release if he couldn't feel loved.

He was growing tired of the play by play games; the flirting, the hoping, the emotionless sex. His usual player attitude was all he had, and it helped to gain him youthful company when he was particularly lonely.

Now that he was older, he found, he wanted to love someone.

And tonight, just maybe, he'd found someone who'd actually love him back. In the arms of his best friend, no less.

And here is where the games might end.

"…Hey Zidane…?" Blank whispered into the dark, grinning wildly.

. . . The sheets rustled . . .

"Stop rubbing my fur the wrong way!"

—End—

A/N: Finally finiiiished. Made the font smaller so I could believe I'd written less than the enormous novel here. I mean…a sex scene over 20 pages long (M rated version is missing this part; go to my AFFnet account to read this story WITH the skipped scene)? Ridiculous ending, I know. Summed up to a bunch of crap, eh? I probably didn't connect things well and forgot stuff too, knowing me.

By time I got to the end I was sick of lookin' at my own words.

I am horrified with how this turned out. It feels like such a stiff piece that I considered not posting it…I'm just not happy with it all that well…

I fear I may have ruined it.

Took a little more time on this one probably more than needed to. I tried not to use the same adjectives and all a lot, but sometimes…it just can't be helped. And yeah, Blank grins a lot. I think its 'hawt'. I stuck it in there every chance I could. So sue me. Grin grin grin grin grin grin grin grin.