flamebrand | [ CLOSED TO NOBURDEN. ]

[ Founder, he loves her. Just the shift of her balance from above to beside him, the scent of her and her warmth near him are enough to make his heart flutter. He'd always known joy around Jill, but the depth of it now that he's given leave to express it takes him off-guard, every time; her mouth against his feels both novel and inevitable, no matter how many times they trade kisses.

He's still molten on the mattress, but manages to collect enough of himself to roll sideways and encircle Jill's waist with his arms. ]

Yes. [ As he nuzzles against her jaw. ] And now I've got you where I want you.

[ Playfully. Try to wriggle out now!!! She can't. ]

[Jill wriggles, but only to press closer to him. She laughs, arm slipping around him, fingers trailing up and down his back. She can't stop touching him.]

Oh. I seem to be trapped. What will you do with me?

[Try to sound less pleased with the fact, Jill.]

I'll keep you here, [ is a continuation of the playful way he keeps her in his embrace, the warmth of his body pressed against hers. ] And I won't let go.

[ The sort of thing he never got to say, until now. The most selfish he's ever been around anyone, for any reason. A part of him hesitates to say such a thing even as a charade, a boyish fancy that he'll have to relinquish the moment the world is in need of him again, but he thinks Jill will forgive him for it.

His hand travels up Jill's back, and fingertips test whether he'll be permitted to snake them under her shirt, over her bare skin. ]

[The touch of his hand elicits a sound nearing a purr. She can't recall a time she's wanted to push him away--if he's like a dog, eager for affection, she's like a cat, rubbing her face against his in encouragement.]

Good. This is where I'm meant to be. You are welcome to keep me forever, if you wish.

[And just to drive the point home, she snuggles in some more.]

You know it, don't you? I'd be right here, willingly, for every minute of every day... were our responsibilities so kind.

[Unfortunately, they often are not.]

[ She purrs for him, and he wants to hear more of her contentment. So his hand slides more firmly under her shirt, palm to the small of her back, where his fingers splay outwards. Wanting to touch as much of her as possible, marveling at their difference in build and feel. He draws small circles near her hips with his thumb, enamored by her curves. ]

I know it, and I wish it. ...Once we regain our fates, we can live gentler lives.

[ Maybe he'll never truly put down the sword― there will always be strife, as long as humans are humans― but he'll have Jill. Her steady presence, and her watchful eye.

He dips down for another kiss, longer and sweeter, until his lungs warn him that he needs to breathe. ]

...Like this, forever. [ Slightly rasped. ] No one will see one of us without the other, I fear.

[Her soft curves offset his harder muscle. His touch is always gentle, with her, and it never fails to move her. She's seen him fight. Kill. But he handles her with all the care and reverence in the world. She's glad he's never lost that part of him no matter the hardships he's endured.]

We'll grow old together.

[Dominants don't tend to grow old, not really, but their futures are an unknown. Clive is different from them all, and once their task is done--they'll have the rest of their lives to puzzle out the aftermath. She doubts the world will ever truly understand Cid's quest. They may need to live somewhere quiet and apart, or live out their years on the road.

But if they're together, that's all that matters.]

I love you, Clive.

[It feels especially good to say after a kiss. She strokes his cheek, fingertips tracing his scar.]

[ Grow old. Sometimes he can't imagine what that would even be like, with the state of their lives being what it is, but it sounds perfect when Jill says it. Like a foregone conclusion that they've always been walking towards, the cursed state of their bodies notwithstanding.

And really, all he can think about is how happy she makes him. Genuinely and thoroughly. The kind of joy he never thought he could have, not after Phoenix Gate.

So he rolls them both, with him on his jack and Jill on his front, one hand still slid up the back of her shirt, the other around her waist. ]

I love you too, Jill.

[ Slowly, with feeling. And then－

－a flurry of kisses, more playful this time around. Pressed to the underside of her chin, then to her jaw, her ear, her hair. ]

[Jill goes with a laugh, surprised, but trusting. Clive could manhandle her all he wants and she'd let him without hesitation because she knows he'd never do too much. He loves her, after all. As she loves him. There's no doubt in her mind about how strongly they care for one another.

The onslaught of kisses makes her giggle. She nearly squeals with joy between his lips and his beard against her face, and while it tickles, she only leans into his silly affections. It's a side of Clive she doesn't get to see too often--their lives don't allow it very much, but she hopes to see more and more of it.

What better way to encourage it than being silly herself. She manages to kiss the corner of his mouth, at some point, but then grabs his chin to try and keep him still.]

Bold, to attack me when I have the advantage.

[ It's a light hold, easy enough to break out of, but Clive lets it keep him in place, as if Jill is using a pair of iron tongs. He stills under her, eyes soft and expectant, happy to heel. ]

Don't you always?

[ Have the advantage, he means. ] It's all I can do to find an opening.

[ A hum, knowing, and he traces his index slowly, deliberately, along Jill's perfect back. ]

[Good boy. He's rewarded for his obedience with a soft kiss, fingers trailing up his jawline. Intimacy with him has come as easy as breathing, and she's relaxed on top of him, breathing slow and even.]

Yet I still have you at my mercy. What should I do with this, do you think?

[She already knows her answer.]

[ One day Jill will say "good boy" to Clive, and it will awaken something in him that will never go back to sleep. In the meantime, though, he basks in the sentiment of it, and rubs their noses together with warm affection.

Predictably: ] Anything you want.

[ His hand slides out from under her shirt, in a corroboration of his playful defenselessness. Clive raises both arms, hands where she can see them. ]

Perhaps I want to know what your mercy looks like.

My mercy may have looked like giving you a massage. We'll work on that, hmm?

[She teases him fondly, taking one of his hands to press a kiss to his palm. One day she'll get him to let her pamper him until he's nothing but a puddle. Oh, she'd love to bathe him, rub his shoulders, and curl up in a softer bed than this. Some day. Perhaps a strange fantasy to have, but takong care of the man that never puts himself first sounds divine.

She doesn't mean to make him feel any way about that, however. She understands. So, to keep the mood light, she playfully bites the soft part of his palm.]

I do have a complaint, however.

[Jill never complains. There's mischief in her eyes.]

[ One day, he'll learn how to accept unconditionality without immediately considering how he can reciprocate. For now, however, he'll look slightly sheepish for a breath of a moment before raising a brow in vague curiosity about her so-called complaint.

He drums his fingers along soft dove-blue hair, and tips his head. ]

A complaint? I'd like to hear it.

[ Genuinely. He's very interested. ]

What is this?

[She plucks at the fabric of his shirt, like it's some alien thing.]

Why are you wearing it in bed? Our bed, at that.

[It's actually illegal. By now, Clive may have realized she very much enjoys him shirtless when they're alone. She loves to feel the warmth of his skin and to simply look at him without anything in between her eyes and his body.

Look, she's allowed to oogle him openly now, and she will. She's been polite for years.]

[ For a few seconds (longer than he'd care to admit), Clive stares down at Jill's fingers picking at his top, uncomprehending. His... shirt? It's no different from the ones he always wears, a simple white thing under his blood-red leathers. Very inoffensive.

Then, realization sits in. His eyes widen, lips parting just a sliver in a soundless oh, the question mark floating above his head replaced by a tiny exclamation mark.

Then, finally－ he laughs. Louder than usual, almost surprised that he can make the sound at all. ]

A good question. By the flames, the audacity of it.

[ He laughs again, shaking his head as he tries to sit up a bit. ] Will you do me the honors, my lady?

[ Strip him, please. ]

[Anything, to make him laugh. Jill smiles, very pleased with herself, and kindly sits so that he may sit up. It's back to straddling him, her hips on his, but she tries not to think of it overmuch as she pulls his shirt up and over his head.]

Ah. Much better.

[She throws that shirt aside. Won't need that for a while. Her eyes roam his bare abdomen and chest and shoulders before her hands follow.]

You're always so warm you must feel better without that, no?

[Totally for his own benefit.]

[ Being bare in front of Jill barely registers anymore. As much as he thinks his build is nothing more or less special than the build of a soldier (surely most of the Cursebreakers also have six-pack abs), he's happy if Jill is happy.

Objectify him more, queen... He shivers a little when her palms run up over him, and it has nothing to do with the cold. ]

My present company tends to make me feel warm, regardless of what I'm wearing.

[ A beat, and another chuckle. ] Or what I'm not.

[Very funny, Clive. Jill laughs, hands resting on his chest. She wishes he wasn't littered with scars, and that he didn't need to have a body so strong, but she's quite fond of it. It's why she's so eager to pamper him when others are less considerate of his comfort.]

You're a handsome man. The clothing just gets in the way.

[She's nothing but honest. Even if saying so makes her cheeks rosy.]

So says the most beautiful woman in all of Valisthea.

[ To the tune of "have you looked in a mirror lately?" Sometimes he wonders how he could even have managed to turn a sword against Jill when he was still a Branded slave under Sanbreque's control― gods, he'd been so numb and out of his mind back then. How he could have managed not to see her for who she was is unthinkable now.

He reaches up, palm pressed to the warmth of her flush. It's rare to see her like this, given her usual poise and grace. ]

Will you also show yourself to me? Or am I meant to heel for a little while longer?

[The only reason her hands leave his chest is so that she can hold his hand steady while she turns her face to kiss his palm. Once, Anabella used beauty to demean her. A savage, but likely to grow up into something some lesser noble would wish to wed. A pawn, as always. A pretty thing to be kept and used.

Clive's always seen her, before all else.

But it's still nice to know he likes what he sees.]

You're not a dog. [A good boy, as cute as Torgal, but she's not his master. He can heel if he so pleases.] And I'm glad for it. You have two hands, don't you?

[She nips at his palm before letting go and shucking off her vest for him. It's a little more complicated than the shirt beneath.]

[ Not a dog, but her good boy. It makes him smile a bit to think of it, and he waits until Jill is finished with her vest to undo the minimal laces of her shirt. It gets pulled off, slowly, leaving her in her underthings. ]

More than just two hands.

[ A murmur, as he leans forward to kiss her navel, and then nose up between her breasts. Soft here, too; every bit of her feels good to touch. ]

I used to think about you, you know. When I had needs.

[ Him, his stuttering and shy imagination, and his right hand. ]

[Much more than just two hands. His mouth has been a pleasant discovery, be it on her own or elsewhere, and she shivers when he rubs against her skin. It takes everything in her power not to shove him back down onto the bed and have her way with him. Manners, Jill. Manners.

Not that she imagines he'd mind. She smiles and runs the fingers of both hands through his dark hair, looking him over fondly.]

Is that so? Will you tell me in more detail, Clive?

[ He glances up from where he has his mouth on Jill's collarbone, kissing the rise of it with quiet reverence, when he's asked to continue. For a moment, he looks slightly uncertain― is it appropriate to tell the object of his affections how, well, he'd objectified her in the past?― but he sees the look on Jill's face, the open lack of judgment, and he tries to find the words. ]

I... [ His face feels a bit hotter, suddenly. ] ...I would remember how soft you'd feel whenever you leaned on me, or allowed me to hold you.

[ Silly, boyish things. Like being aroused by an ankle showing. ]

I could only get my pleasure by imagining you. [ A little hitch in his voice, as he thinks back to past instances of desperate, graceless masturbation. ]

[Clive is the only man that could make this sound so sweet. Jill's flattered, really. He has no idea how desirable he himself is. He's so respectful and careful with her--she only feels her affection grow.]

And now you can do a lot more than hold me. I'm yours.

[She presses a kiss to the bridge of his nose, playful and fond.]

I hope you'll come to me when you feel a need.

[ He laughs, low and soft. ]

My needs used to be few and far between. [ Hard to get a boner about anything with all the tragedies they have to put up with on the regular. Rubbing one out after a particularly potent adrenaline rush was usually the most of it.

That said: ] Now, though―

[ He cups the back of Jill's neck, keeping her close to him. ] ―I feel a need for you, constantly. Like you've broken something in me that was keeping it all at bay.

[ Local repressed man is in love with the woman of his dreams. ]

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