part 7 of Threshold
Balthier's proposal is the oldest known to Humekind, but Viera do not have an equivalent. Fran falls silent, considering.
Balthier seems to hear the absence of denial as acceptance. He removes vest and shirt together, eager; assumes the position. Fran reaches out delicately. Her claws make this a matter of negotiation between force and control.
She scratches, light.
The reaction is instantaneous. Balthier's skin tightens. 'Nnn. To the left, almost - up, up - oh. Yes, there.'
Before long, his back wears the red pattern of his wandering demands. She stops before she bloods him. He sounds wistful. 'I've wanted to do that since I met you.'
This action is to be reciprocal. Fran assumes his position, doubtful. Balthier's fingers are long but soft. She does not think this mutual grooming will hold in his favour—
The paroxysm of near-pleasure peaks as his fingertips dig right above her tail. The blunt pressure is cut, only just, by the edge of his nail. The mixed sensation sparks itches elsewhere.
Balthier sounds terribly young, sometimes. 'If I go any lower I'll be—'
'Yes, Balthier. I've wanted to do this since I met you.'
His fingertips are not nearly as hesitant as his voice.
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