FicWad

It's deceptively peaceful in Djose, moonlight washing over everything and making it look gilded in silver. Yuna's doing what she can to help in the aftermath of Operation Mi'ihen, healing those who survived and sending those who didn't. Kimahri, Wakka, and Lulu have staked out floorspace in the inn and are long asleep -- as Tidus himself probably should be, but he's too distracted, his thoughts roiling like the sea in Sin's wake.

Sin.

Tidus knows in his heart that Sin is all that remains of Jecht. Still, it's hard to accept; as much as Tidus has always resented -- hated, even -- his old man, he never imagined Jecht was guilty of more than being an arrogant jerk who was stupid enough to get himself killed and leave behind a child and a grieving widow. Except it turns out Jecht isn't merely arrogant, nor is he dead; he's become truly evil, a destroyer of whole civilizations.

It's more than Tidus can wrap his head around.

But Auron has never lied to him, has only ever cared for him -- cared about him -- ever since he was a little kid, and whether or not Tidus wants to hear it, what Auron told him is probably the truth.

Hell, he felt his old man's presence when Sin attacked the Crusaders; there's no denying it anymore.

He's got so many unanswered questions now, though. Like how did Jecht transform into Sin? And why? And how did Braska (and Auron?) defeat Sin ten years ago?

And he's still angry with Auron for keeping the truth from him for so long, but there are only three people with the answers to his questions -- Jecht, Braska, and Auron -- and of those, only one he can actually ask. He finds Auron sitting on one of the supply crates stacked around the outside of the inn, his heavy coat pushed off both shoulders and his armor hanging loose by its straps; it's as close to relaxed as Auron gets, and that's a good sign.

Suddenly, though, the questions don't seem quite so important. Maybe it's fear or loneliness or maybe he just needs something familiar in this strange place, but whatever the reason, Tidus doesn't think twice. He steps up to the crate and shifts Auron's legs apart to make room for himself between them. Hands flat on Auron's broad chest, he leans forward in an open invitation.

Auron doesn't disappoint him; strong arms wrap around his shoulders to pull him closer and muscled thighs press firmly against his hips to hold him there. A gentle breath ruffles Tidus's hair and tickles his ear, so he turns his head and buries his face in Auron's neck, ignoring the burn of stubble against his cheek.

"I wish it were otherwise," Auron says, and it's like he knows what Tidus is thinking.

His mouth pressed to Auron's jaw, Tidus feels the words themselves vibrate against his lips and their truth echo through Auron's every touch.

"Who was he, really?" Tidus whispers, not entirely sure Auron can hear him and even less sure he wants Auron to. "Was he the bastard I remember? The hero Lady Yuna talks about? Or the monster who terrorizes this world?"

"Yes." The answer is so soft that for a second Tidus doubts Auron actually spoke.

He starts to pull back, intending to face Auron and demand a real answer, something that makes sense. Except Auron isn't letting go of him, and he can't free himself without a struggle. There are too many struggles on this journey as it is; Tidus doesn't want to fight with his allies, too. Instead, he relaxes against Auron's chest again, feeling the tension in Auron's grip dissipate.

"He was all those things," Auron continues, having apparently satisfied some daily requirement for cryptic and now willing to elaborate. "All of those and more. Someday I'll tell you about Jecht, but not today."

Tidus knows better than to argue with that particular tone. Instead, he slides his hands along Auron's sides, tracing the ridges of scar tissue through the light material of Auron's shirt. He's rewarded with a low hiss -- a significant reaction on the Auron scale of such things -- and he smiles smugly.

"Kiss me." The effect of the demand is ruined by the fact that Tidus's face is once again buried in Auron's neck and so the words come out mumbled and lacking authority.

Auron chuckles. "And what would Lady Yuna think if she were to see one of her guardians molesting a young man in her entourage?" he asks.

"Lucky guardian?" Tidus hazards, turning his focus to loosing Auron's belt. He doesn't bother to point out that he's technically a guardian now, too.

The soothing caresses are suddenly gone from Tidus's back and Auron's hands are covering Tidus's, stilling them. "Here?" he asks. "Now?"

"There's no one around except the rantipoles," a brief nod toward the cute animals bouncing around the square, "and they don't care." Tidus grins and is pleased to see an answering twitch at the corner of Auron's mouth -- an expression that's Auron's equivalent of a broad grin.

"As you wish." And then Auron's hands are helping rather than hindering, his long fingers nimbly undoing the buckles of Tidus's uniform and sliding the shirt off Tidus's shoulders, grazing nipples lightly and drawing a gasp. The hard part is getting past Auron's objections, but if he's persistent Tidus usually ends up getting what he wants.

Tidus toes off his shoes and steps out of the rest of his uniform, suppressing a shiver as the cool night air hits his overheated skin. He turns his attention to Auron's trousers, undoing the fastenings and pushing the material aside with an ease born of practice, and then he moves to straddle Auron's lap.

Hands flat on Auron's shoulders, Tidus braces himself and rocks his hips forward, savoring the brush of Auron's cock against his own. "Yeah, that's exactly right."

His statement is met with a low chuckle and Tidus feels a sudden rush of embarrassment, but he refuses to apologize -- for being young and horny or for enjoying this. Instead, he shifts again, reaching down to catch his cock and Auron's together in one fist, working them both with sure, firm strokes guaranteed to elicit a reaction from Auron.

He's not disappointed. Auron's fingers dig into his hips and urge him to move faster, harder. Now who's impatient? Tidus thinks, but refrains from saying it aloud. Now is not the time to pick a fight with Auron. Instead, he says, "Potion?"

While Auron is reaching for his belt pouch, Tidus takes the opportunity to reach up and slip Auron's sunglasses off. He's counting on Auron's affection for him being stronger than Auron's irritation at his presumptuousness, and it seems he's gotten lucky because he isn't dying a sudden, painful death; instead, he finds himself looking at Auron's closed eyelids. This is a liberty he's seldom allowed and he doesn't want to waste it. Reaching out, he strokes one fingertip lightly down the scar, stopping only when he reaches its end, his finger coming to rest just above Auron's right nipple.

"Lady Yuna is right," he says, pressing gentle kisses onto each of Auron's eyelids in turn. "You are very brave, Sir Auron." Tidus means it, too, and hopes Auron recognizes the earnestness in his tone.

His only answer is a wry twitch of Auron's lips and the cool, slick press of fingers sliding into him. Auron's always been good at distractions.

For the first time since this aspect of their relationship started -- three years ago now -- it occurs to Tidus to wonder if Auron has some ulterior motive. He pauses, poised with the head of Auron's cock pressing against him. Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, he starts to lower himself downward, waiting until Auron is half sheathed inside him before asking: "How well did you know my old man?"

Auron tenses minutely, but his voice is casual as he answers, "We were Lord Braska's guardians, traveling this same road with him. How well do you know Lulu and Wakka and Kimahri?"

Tidus recognizes an evasion when he hears it, but he doesn't press the issue immediately. Instead, he slides the rest of the way down Auron's cock, savoring the familiar feel of being stretched and filled. A gentle push of Tidus's hands against strong shoulders and Auron's leaning back, propping himself against the rough wall and openly watching.

It's moments like this that make Tidus wonder who's really in control. Yes, he can draw shudders and gasps and sometimes even outright moans from the otherwise stoic man, but it's never before occurred to him to wonder if Auron loves him, if he'd grieve if Tidus were killed. Of course, Tidus hadn't thought much about his own mortality, either, until he woke up in Spira, a thousand years away from everything he knew.

The past few weeks have made him altogether too aware of the fragility of the human body; he's felt the white-hot sharpness of breaking bones and the seemingly endless pain of bone-deep bruises, and it all makes the roughest blitzball match seem like a children's game.

He's not feeling that kind of ache right now, though. Instead, there's a warm, slow burn in his thigh muscles as he sets a leisurely pace, savoring the slick, hot slide of Auron's cock and the hitches in Auron's breathing.

"Touch yourself." It's spoken like an order, but then everything Auron says sounds like that. Tidus recognizes the faint undertone of desire and chooses to take it as a plea.

He moves one hand toward his cock, pausing just before he can feel the contact. "Did you love him?" he asks, hoping to catch Auron off guard.

Auron sighs and Tidus knows he's won. He may have to work for them, but he'll get his answers.

"He was my comrade; I would have died for him. Is that love?"

Tidus completes his motion, wrapping his hand around his cock and stroking lightly. He knows Auron's question is rhetorical, but it does make him think. He's already risked his life for Yuna and the rest of her guardians; what does that say about his feelings? It's something he'll have to think more about, but at the moment he's not going to let Auron distract him from the fact that his question hadn't really been answered.

He pushes again. "Well, then, did you fuck him?"

This time Auron's reaction is even more marked; he freezes, his body tense, and Tidus braces to be thrown off. He's surprised when Auron relaxes again and the fingers that had tightened almost painfully on his hips flex and tug him down -- hard -- on Auron's cock, and he bites his lower lip to stifle the moan that wants to escape.

"Does it matter?" The words are almost whispered but Tidus can still hear the tinge of sorrow in them. He's about to drop the subject, his guilt overwhelming his curiosity, when Auron continues softly, "I loved Braska. Jecht loved Braska. That was what bound us together, Jecht and I. Call it what you will: love, comradeship, or maybe just jealousy."

And that's more of an answer than Tidus had expected. "I'm sorry," he says, and he means it more than he ever has before. Auron loved Braska and Braska's dead and Tidus cannot imagine living after you've lost someone you love like that. "I'm sorry," he repeats, not knowing what else he can say.

"It was a long time ago," is all Auron says, and then he arches his hips as if to remind Tidus of where they are and what they're supposed to be doing.

The subject is closed.

For once Tidus finds himself thinking that maybe history should be left in the past. At least this particular piece of history.

He starts to move again slowly, letting the intensity build, trying to tell Auron with his body all the things he can't seem to say out loud. He doesn't know if what he feels is love, but it's definitely something important and he doesn't want to lose it or damage it.

He leans forward and presses a kiss to Auron's slightly parted lips. Auron lets him.

fait accompli

A/N: Doom. This is Laylah's fault, as is pretty much everything fun and forbidden that I indulge in. I owe her a lot, not the least of which is thanks for beta reading this. g It's a 2004 New Year's Resolution story, written to fulfill Lacey Parker's request for FFX (Auron/Tidus).