Winking Sage Cider

A/N: I decided to be a snot. And, after a review granted to me by ff . net with some positive criticism, I'm going to take a more anal approach to my writing. *Nodnod* So, if you guys still run in to pieces that are horrificly confusing, be sure to lemme know!

SUMMARY: After collecting Albel from the dungeons of Airyglyph he is forced to accompany the party to the Urssa Lava Caves. Now in Kirlsa, why is Albel in the Storm Brigade manor and leading them on an aimless run in to 'enemy' territory? Cliff begins to put together the pieces of a complex rat-tailed puzzle, but can it truly be called affection?

Warnings: Swearing! AT LAST! Oh. And angst.

Spoilers: Yes.
Lemon: Maybe a wet dream this time eh? You can never go wrong with wet dreams.
Chapter: 4/10?
Pairing: Cliff x Albel

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Quotes, food, all that good stuff and characters from the game Star Ocean: Till the End of Time are property of SquareEnix and Tri-Ace (but not respectively).

*s - refer to bottom Notes
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Chapter Four: Primrose Seas and Honey Skies

"What the hell are we doing here?" Thick fingers in their leather gloves groaned with stress as he turned angry cobalt hues on their 'guide'.

This little fucker was really pushing it.

Albel could only keep a good thin hand on the cloth of his hip, the other unskirted sliver of flesh jutted for all to see. Maybe if the blond was in a better mood he'd be taking that detail to the nth degree and in to his great database of tidbits. Though, it would have been cut short with the distraction of steel glittering in the afternoon with that dismissing wave of an armored hand.

One young swordsman could only grin to their even younger leader with the velvet laugh from his shackled throat. "Fayt knows what we're here for. Don't you, boy?" Uh oh. He was beginning to.. Could it be?! Respect the little 'engineer'!

It would figure the likes of Albel Nox had to have their scrawny asses handed to them before the acknowledged anyone. Somewhere deep down, Cliff was a little... jealous that he hadn't been upgraded from the rank of 'maggot' in those vermillion depths. Arrogant little...

A blue head nodded before the teen was staring up to Cliff, hands going to his own hips in some trademark leader pose. Standing beside a Goliath, it wasn't all that intimidating. If anything, the Klausian was ready to punch the old man that had put all that universe-stopping power away in a stick of a boy. "Peterny's the best place to get our supplies in order."

To finish the idea there was an ego-sated croon from the captain. Oh he loved being right - getting his heel in that older man's face as often as he could. "You didn't honestly think you could take on the Marquis with our current equipment? Airyglyph has the steel, but Aquor has the most dedicated hammers. Or perhaps you learned nothing raiding our mines for your Arrow?"

Honestly the blond was amused. Heh, he still remembered that... At least Cliff wasn't alone for where his mind had skampered off to, even if for entirely different reasons.

Nel made no comment. She hadn't made one the entire trip, half-expecting Albel would take the opportunity for a weapons upgrade. They were going up against a foe they both knew they would have to be at their best for. Taking on the world's most prestigious dragon wasn't a thing one did half-heartedly and half-armed.

The ninja had already made herself scarce, no doubt recruiting the inn for its services again.

Defeated, Cliff could only groan and roll his eyes down to the girl that flicked powdery blue hair off her shoulder. Girls needed to stop being such teases - especially when they didn't know what they were doing. Annoyed at himself for even trying to think such things he let his gaze shift back to the pair of boys.

"Just keep going and make a left. The inn's ri--"

Fayt was cut short when sanguin hues tracked on him until a snort sounded and Albel's boots started down the cobbles. An oversized hand thumped on to Fayt's shoulder then with a light chuckle, and he made damn sure he was loud enough for the slinking captain to hear. "I guess he's not used to courtesy! People usually say thanks for directions!"

Blue fluff sank and Cliff stared down to him a minute in puzzlement. "Don't worry about it, Cliff. I'll bet he's never been here before."

"That's no reason for him to be an ungrateful jackass." Eyes stabbing at his arm made him blink and shift, until he had Maria in his sights. "What?"

With arms folded over her chest it was obvious he'd said something wrong. She was too compassionate as he was concerned. Especially towards all the wrong people. "...You know, it might sound silly..."

"Naw. Nothing ever sounds silly coming out of the leader of Quark." Another jab from her eyes. If he found bruises, he was sueing!

"...Did anyone besides me wonder what he wears under that?"

Cliff didn't wonder.

When there was an Elicoorian heel on your tri-barred neck, there was quite the vantage point.

"I've heard of fruits - but a guy dressing like a giant grape is prolly the same type to get twisted up in panties."

~*~*~*~*~*~

All their business was said and done. Mass was collecting for the evening outside the chapel, old and young alike in all their drab inexpenses flocking through the square.

Klausia was a world raised away from 'gods'; instead their religion revolved around winning. This meant the dojo was his church and fighting was his prayer. In a way it made him grin.

Mistaken for some form of alighted glee by the approaching stick of purple. Cliff didn't even hear him approach until he was rubbed backwards in a skin of sandpaper at the poisoned creamy note burning in to his ears over the bustle of the heart of town.

"You're not going to join the sheep, engineer? Or does Greeton still immerse itself in a god of gears and grease?"

"Go bug someone else huh?" He was so irritated by the fact the hairs on the back of his neck hadn't crisped until the very last second, that he hadn't paid attention to the second question. Thick arms folded tighter across the wide span of his chest with a grunt, depending more on the stone wall for his leaning.

Seriously. This was a holy hour for these people; he didn't need to go mucking that up with climbing out of mental sewers. Azure hues shot to his side where Albel stood, as serene as the fighter had ever seen him. "Why aren't -you- going is a better question."

"I don't pray to any gods," the younger almost snorted, offended that Cliff would even accuse him of it. Then again, he was offended with anything the other man did. Plated shoulders resigned with a steel limb slung on the length of his scabbard appearing on sentry with the inscrutible way he studied people shuffling in to the building.

"Lemme guess, you're in league with the devil?" He couldn't help but smirk at his own cleverness. Especially when he spotted the twitch on the other's lips that hinted his usual disdain.

Albel was getting more hissy by the minute, only throwing kerosene to the fire of the blond's ego that was a bonfire right about now. "It's not as though a maggot such as yourself would understand."

...Dammit. He hated getting in to discussions with people. For some reason the natives of this planet, in their party, were unusually stimulating for conversation.

Just conversation. Cliff hooked one boot over the other, staring ahead before he could memorize the way bleached fangs grasped the other's face. The last thing he needed today was the image of nibbling them away with his own teeth. Ninja girls, ninja girls... Ninja Nel. --Dammit, like that was supposed to help.

There was a stab of gazing much harsher than Maria's and his face soured before glaring back to him. "What? You said I wouldn't understand. I'm not gonna go asking about it if you're going to be such a jerk."

He wanted to ask about it. A fact he was internally kicking himself for. Somehow satisfied, those muddy scarlet eyes peeled away and took in the square fountain. Up until Cliff was shifting in the corner of his vision.

Double dammit. Here he went to go scratch his head and Albel was staring at him again like a feline with a field mouse rustling in the hay. Not that he -needed- the image of a cat-eared Nox flicking his tails around.

...It gave him a new reason to snicker every time this guy's back would be exposed to him. A loud huff to clear his throat, sapphires taking in the fading sky. In the domes it was a completely different place from this. He could smell the flowers up in the hills from here, where everything in the Federation, on the ships. Everything was so...

Synthetic. Even people. Especially people. Raised to already know right and wrong, in sterile environments and sheltered from absolutely everything, it put him off at times to be here. The world was so... quiet, lacking the constant electrical thrum of engines and the whine of stellar frequencies and all the gadgets their exploration had to offer. To come here, where the loudest things were screeching children and all that empty space was filled with crickets and leaves...

"Hnph."

God damn this guy was really asking to get donkey-punched. It sounded so childish, but fucking dammit Albel was acting like such a damn... child! Cliff would -never- be against fighting on his level, and hell if the little bastard didn't have a lot of hair to pull.

...And nails. And that strange alchemic material clinging every wrong way to every fine little sinew and slope of muscle...

"What?" ground the blond with the utmost aggitation as his head fell. Yeah, childish. He needed a nice time-out... In a private corner. Or hey, wash his mouth out; after a cold shower.

In some victory there was a smirk from the man beside him. Ruby orbs glowing from the off light of the encroaching evening stayed on him. "From off this world indeed." Judging from the silence and the dark glare from the corner of blue spheres said he wasn't following. Albel was -happy- to continue, an impish and knowing smirk spreading wide. "You have to be from under a different sky than ours to watch it so fondly."

...Wait for it... Knuckles tensed, hidden away in the folding of strong arms.

Ready to ring his collared chicken neck...

...Maybe yank him back to the inn by its links, if Albel somehow managed to surprise him.

"Or you're seeing it for the first time after wriggling about in the earth so long."

"...That's it."

A defiantly curious stare was on him. Arms fell apart and his weight lifted from the wall, but the swordsman didn't budge from his lounged standing. No fingers went for his sword. No clawed digits lifted. Another barrel to the fire in cloudless orbs that neared his.

At last. He just may have worn the final string holding this man's patience. If he couldn't win by brute force, then by Apris he would have this man and all his loathing. There was something to be said when you were at the top of a man's sources of anger:

You were still on top.

--He should have been anyway. It was hard to say he was dominating the situation when a squawk tore out of him at being grabbed by the back of his fluffy head and -dragged-. Hisses and shocked curses tumbled easily from him, even as he was bent at the waist from the imposing weight on his skull. He couldn't see where they were going. It was either suffer or trip over his own stomping feet at the other man's pace tearing him along down the uneven cobbles.

"I've had enough of this," thundered in the distance of his hearing until it caved in on him and shadows took away the glint of sun on the plates of his boots. Fingers tightened at his twice-wrapped nape and ripped Albel upright, unleashing another feral noise from gnashed teeth.

That feline image of the swordsman wasn't improving with how he growled and spat and lashed narrow crimson shards up to the blond whom only stood there smirking over him. Fettered neck was beginning to kink at the obscene angle his he was forced to look up with. ...Maybe it would be easier if he was on his knees?

Maybe. He was never going to take the chance to find out. "Unhand me worm!"

Cliff didn't look particularly threatened, boredly staring around the district he had yanked the other in to. With everyone at church, or in the tavern nearby... there weren't any witnesses.

Nothing could stop him from just breaking this sick, snarling little bastard in two and leaving him there.

...Except that maybe Airyglyph wouldn't be pleased to find out a Captain had been murdered on newly-truced territory. Okay, so maybe there was something stopping him.

"If you're going to act like such a kid, you got three choices." Let it never be said Cliff was an unfair man.

It wasn't like it was his fault if the native punk didn't want to listen to his way out, too busy with his ears ringing in fury and stinging scalp no doubt.

Let it never be said Cliff was a man that couldn't enjoy dispensing a little justice every now and again.

"I can either wash your mouth out for each of those charming words you sputtered on the way over..."

Albel didn't look like he was about to agree.

"...Learn just why us 'maggots' like eating dirt all day and give you a few fistfuls..."

Albel still didn't look like he was about to agree.

"...Or you can apologize for being such a brat." No doubt the most impossible choice that would be available to the likes of the Elicoorian. Still, if Cliff had to be on trial later for making this guy be the last person to kiss his own twiggy little ass - he was going to make it clear that there had been options.

...Albel hadn't gotten any closer to looking like he was about to agree.

In fact, he looked in a spot of pain from the way his skirt flickered over quaking legs. Yeah, it had to be a bit painful, being bent as he was for Cliff to look down on him as he could. Nomatter what happened, Albel was never going to be able to live down the moment someone was able to sneer down on him.

Or how much he enjoyed resisting someone who thought they'd won. The brunet wasn't the sort to bluff but he was capable of identifying someone else's.

...Cliff gambled, but he didn't bluff. By Tetrageniot gambling rules - you only bet when you know you'll win. Damn, who knew bachleor parties could be so informative?

An aggrivated grunt jumped out of the younger male's throat. He closed his eyes against the invading wet of pain that had blanketed them for the awesome grip in the back of his hair, and the losing battle of keeping the burn in his legs from melting his position.

And even at a time like this, he could afford himself to quirk heated lips in defiance.

Cliff was beginning to think that Albel didn't just enjoy pissing people off.

He thrived in pissing the wrong people off. The wrong people being the type that could turn those steady lips purple with bruises, and stake claim on his neck better than any collar...

...It had been a long time since the Klausian had someone to freely vent his anger on. "What are you laughing about?" Someone that could not only last as a physical punching back, but was impregnable to mental abuse. Hell, the guy looked like he got some sort of unnatural kick out of pain - giving or recieving.

Albel strained a chuckle. "Not from this planet at all... When a child's misbehaved, they're spanked. You said I was being one of those, didn't you?" There was no way he would ever apologize. Or eat dirt. Or suffer a manual abridgement of his verbal dictionary in Apple Cinnamon Edition.

Which left only one option open to him: negotiate.

For a guy that sounded so fucked up most of the time...

...he could make a lot of sense. Cliff suddenly felt that his options had been wholly inadequate. Eating dirt sounded like a bully. And apologizing made it sound like Albel had broken a window.

Spanking sounded...

...really good right about now. So good in fact, the pale Klausian was smirking as wide as his captive.

When fingers tightened in dark and gold mismatched hair to force the younger upright crimson senses reeled. His ears were churning curdled blood that had transferred from aching knees, and then his whirling head was forced forward again.

"Yeah, guess I did, didn't I?" The Elicoorian would never admit when there was a person that could match his own wickedly delighted tone.

His unbalanced and recovering form toppled, steel plates and digits clattering with a yelp when his belly was rammed by something much more solid than himself.

Solid, warm, and wrapped in leather... Albel's vision began to clear and one by one the elaborate details of his position and the savior of his face from stone, just inches away now, became clear. The fact Cliff was sitting back on what had to be a short stack of crates outside an unsuspecting someone's house. The fact two impressively bulky thighs were wide enough to span the whole brunt of the captains torso, leaving his head crammed between his shoulder guards; for extra security to keep his head from lifting, gloved fingers had splayed on the back of it and kept his chin fastened against the outside of dark-jade clad muscle.

It was the fact that he could sense his rump was clear in the air that recovered his need to rebel. "Unhand me you overgrown lech!!"

An amused 'oho' was the only response to his growl and the flail of his clawed limb. He hiccup'd in surprise when a leg under his ribs bounced. "Not so fast there! You offered the punishment! You're not going to take it like a man?"

"Not if you're going to punish me like a child!" the smaller roared, throwing his arm again. This time, a not so amused stomp of a leg he was rested on came, steel screeching balefully when the heel came down on his wrist. "Gh...!! Let me go!"

"Or you'll what? Lead us to some bottomless pit instead of to the Marquis? Slaughter us all in our sleep?" Albel couldn't see the shake of gilt head above him that followed the unthreatened sigh.

He also couldn't see the hand that planted itself on the slope of his defenseless rear.

Heat bursted in to his face, his ears, down his neck, then disappeared over the span of legs he was stretched across until it flared again in his loins.

"You're good," Cliff offered smugly. "But you're not that good. And you're all talk. That or you're one sick puppy." Though, a Nox spread over his lap and angrily flicking a pair of tails, ears folded back did look so much more appealing. Especially since cats could purr.

"Because I could decide a more appropriate punishment than you, barbarian?"

Hey, he was getting higher on the evolutionary ladder! Barbarians were a subclass of humanoid! Didn't that just make his day. ...Course, it was a little fucked up that Cliff had to be absolutely degrading to this little prick to get any respect out of him.

"No..." Firm, gloved digits closed around the slit of fabric lining the brat's hip, peeling it away to reveal what was no less than snickerworthy. ....Cute, but laughable. Honestly, if Cliff had to pick anything to go and bone...

...It would have to be something that was a little more meat than bone. Here while the other side of the Noxcat was privately seething and an unseen shade of red, a pair of writhing hips supported a band of plum fabric that barely did a job of not riding up a firm alabaster crack between two stubbornly twisting thighs.

Yeah. They were definately panties he'd seen. No mistaking that now. But he had been mistaken on the bones-to-meat ratio.

"Did you know..." he started, fondly curious as azure hues blinked heavily. "...you have a girl's ass?" It was followed by an amazed chuckle, snaring a thick finger in the band running along the outer part of his hip, giving the slightly stretchy fabric a tug.

At least all of the other's fussing came to a dead halt. It wasn't dignified for a Captain of Airyglyph to be taken prisoner, tortured, and degraded - and prove it was a discomfort. That didn't stop Albel from snarling under the mop of his hair, his right hand making a valiant effort to lift the foot ruthlessly keeping his other limb still.

"What of it, mongrel?!"

"Oh nothin'," he clarified vageuly, giving a dispassioned shrug. Everything made it sound like he had suddenly lost interest. But seeing was believing.

And anyone that could have seen his face knew he was anything but. "It just makes sense now. D'you go and become a sadistic little shit because you never got past training bras like the one you're wearing?" Another tug of the fabric lining Albel's hip, grining smugly to himself on a whole new level for how the body over his lap twitched and even vibrated with anger.

It was as close to a purr as the likes of Albel was going to get he assumed. "Skirts. Leggings. Panties. All makes sense now." Sating his own ego had nothing to do with bashing at the brunet's physique; he could feel the other's masculinity that had been twitching at the outside of his thigh, up until he'd gone furiously still.

This was all about getting even. And he was willing to play dirty until he was satisfied.

"What? No comeback, Captain?"

Even the hand that had been vainly working to lift the Klausian's leg had ceased. The only thing that proved the Twisted hadn't died of horror was the fluttering hammer inside a smaller chest beating against the top of his leg.

"You bore me with your empty threats, engineer," droned out from the peroxide-attacked mop, proving once and for all Albel fully understood how to play on both sides of his little game. He wasn't going to play with unneccessary rounds right now. He just... wanted to get this over with, before he soiled himself. After this, the two of them still had to go back to the inn, and he wasn't about to return soggy.

He hadn't made such a bad choice in his victim after all. This man... just might be worth abusing further, if Cliff was going to entertain him so.

There was the realization that Cliff had turned the boy over his knee for more than just an unabashed peek at his panties. This was supposed to be punishment. And no doubt, the blond didn't understand the meaning of 'holding back'. Digits cased in lilac snared about the blond's ankle, holding an anxious breath.

Handsome features soured as he glared down to the awaiting pile. Even Albel didn't have eyes in the back of his head.

That's how Cliff could grin as the initial squeak that popped from the captain easily bled in to a growl for having his underwear slipped down from his ass.

"Last chance. You can still apologize," he purred darkly, leaving the brat on his lap to shiver at the way the baritone rumbled in each one of his ribs.

Strange foreplay, this one had. Not that he hadn't come across a fair share of women that enjoyed play-rape. Albel had his safety word, and it was only real rape when a person said 'no', right?

Said grin evolved in to a full-blown smile at the sound of his leather-cased palm smacking on to uninterrupted opal flesh. There was more force behind the spread of his hand than any punch he had landed in to the other's proud glass jaw. The might of the clap bounded down the narrow streetway, yearning to spread the tale of the captain's humiliation to any ears it could reach.

The only praise that came echoing back was the flap of wings from a flock of birds that had been enjoying the fading daylight in a tree nearby.

Bah. Cliff didn't need their approval or comfort anyway.

He had all the satisfaction he needed, observing the way skin instantly began to pour color in to the template his hand left behind. Feeling every taut sinew in the captain's belly, and seeing every coil in milky back flux and tremble in the strain of not crying out.

And knowing there was going to be no denying in the captain's mind this had indeed taken place. If he needed a reminder, there was a print covering the entire right half of his ass.

...Damn. It couldn't hurt that much could it? The figure stretched over his legs liquified, weighted breath hastily falling out of him and replaced by a desperate flow of pants.

...Maybe it could.

Cliff sometimes forgot a Klausian spanking wasn't something every girlish ass was familiar with. Some asses were just begging to get familiar with it.

One swat was enough to reduce a full-grown man to tears when it was done right.

"Heh." Wasn't he just one goofy goose. A sheepish grin swept the blond's features and a sweatdrop leaked down his cheek.

"Guess I overdid it."