Word Count: 1317
Fandom: Final Fantasy IV
Characters: Kain, Cecil, implied Rosa
Ship(s): Implied KainCecilRosa
Warning(s): None
Author Notes: It's 12:19am and I can't even justify this. Sometimes I just get an itch for some OT3 fluff and I just gotta scratch it. But you know in effect this is just like CaiRai. Height difference, super cute, potentially super angsty (but not in this ficlet), Liam O'Brien is there...
The night was painted in silver and gold outside of the window – silver and gold against a backdrop of navy so dark as to be pitch black. The silver was farther reaching, having the capacity to filter in through the window from its source – the now (and hopefully forevermore) singular moon hanging in the sky among a blanket of stars. The room, too, found itself coveted by those same hues – silver and gold, and like the world outside, the silver reached farther – far enough to paint his two companions for the night in a ghostly light. It tried to claim him, too, but the gold light from a lone candle held it off for the moment as he worked, scribbling away in his sweeping, slanted hand and signing off with an equally sweeping and slanted signature.
Jokingly, both his king and queen at some point or another mentioned how the slightly-smeared ink may as well be a signature in of itself, and that his name wasn’t strictly necessary given the rarity of people – at least within the borders of Baron – that wrote with their left hand.
Still, he signed with his name and not ink smudges and set his quill back in the ink pot while he folded the parchment neatly and slipped it into an envelope he and a kind, old castle servant had spent some time folding earlier that day. It was sealed with a crimson blot of wax which he impressed a design into with a hastily-discarded ring (if he’d kept it on his finger while he wrote there was no doubt that the letter would have likely failed to come into existence in the first place). After addressing it, the letter was set among the rest of his correspondence – ranging from formal recommendations to kind regards to strongly-worded letters and even beyond. The signet ring was set aside and a new sheet of parchment retrieved, along with his quill, and the cycle started over there in that patch of gold.
Around halfway through the letter, warm, strong hands came to rest on his shoulders. Kain knew without looking that it was Cecil – simply because it was always Cecil. When Rosa woke in the night, it was rarely to pay him much attention (“You looked so wrapped up in what you were doing,” she once claimed, “That I thought it would be better to let you be than to call you to bed.”) but when Cecil caught him up in the late hours of the night (winding on, perhaps, toward morning), he would always pull him out of his work, no matter how important the dragoon insisted that it was.
“You look tired,” his king said – and he knew that it was merely a ploy to get him to lay his quill to rest since he certainly didn’t feel tired.
Kain finished the sentence he was writing before casting a glance over his shoulder at Cecil. “It’s the light, Your Majesty,” he replied, keeping his voice as low as he could manage. “I’ll join you yet. This one needs to be sent off by daybreak.”
“I’m not your king here, my friend,” Cecil corrected, and even in doing so he sounded like royalty. Kain recalled how shocked he’d been when he’d first heard Cecil use that tone with him – and he always used it to correct him on such matters in private, rarely ever in public, and it served as a reminder of all he’s witnessed (and missed) over the years, from growing and training as a soldier alongside Cecil from the time they were old enough to be trusted with real swords to their eventual rivalry and close (at least, perhaps from an outsider’s point of view…) friendship once they’d grown into their respective ranks (Cecil, Commander of the Red Wings; Kain, Commander of the Dragoons) to, after a seventeen-year leave of absence, returning to find that Cecil had grown into his position as king and mastered in seventeen years that which wasn’t unusual to take a lifetime for a specifically-groomed prince to master (after all, the ins and outs of politics were ugly enough that, even with their arrangement, Kain would not touch them with a twenty-seven-and-a-half-foot pole if he could help it).
Cecil fell silent and Kain, hesitantly, returned to his work. Whether Cecil was too wrapped-up in the haze of sleep to read over his shoulder, he couldn’t discern, but nonetheless after it received the dragoon’s signature and seal. “You look out of place, you know,” Kain said, turning so as to sit sideways in his chair and get a better look at Cecil – bed-frazzled but no less elegant-looking, and even without the lipstick he had a ghostly hue about his entire visage. In the darkness his skin almost held the same hue as his moonlight-spun hair. “Amongst my paraphernalia.”
“Strange. Perhaps it’s your paraphernalia that’s the problem; you ought to do some cleaning.”
“Clean? Never. I’ll keep my possessions in top condition, but even if you were to order it, I wouldn’t get rid of anything.”
“I’m sure you don’t need thirteen different maps of Baron, ten of which aren’t even modern.” At that, a teasing laugh bubbled from Cecil’s lips, bright enough to rival the champagne they’d had with dinner.
“They’re timeless.”
“They’re not even hung up. They’re rolled up in that trunk over there – the one underneath that shield that always sends the sun right in my eyes in the morning when we sleep here.”
“The sun would ruin them, and maybe you and Rosa ought to sleep in your own quarters, then. I’m sure the bed is orders of magnitudes nicer than my own, anyway.”
“Or, you could move the shield.”
“Out of the question. But you might be able to negotiate the bookshelf there; I’ve been meaning to reorganize and there are a few duplicates. Perhaps the library could use a new copy of The Prince or The Art of War…”
“If only you had a copy of Magicam in Praxi; the mage corps would thank you.”
“… Baron lacks a copy of Magicam?”
“A Black Mage recruit accidentally set fire to it. Before that, a White Mage recruit was practicing Mini and it misfired, so the other copy is currently unreadable. Rosa’s been working on it.”
Kain let out a sigh. “I changed my mind. All of my books are staying with me – duplicate or not.”
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s not so bad. I’m sure Porom would be willing to find someone to make us a copy. Those had been falling apart since we were kids anyway.”
“I’d rather not have my books destroyed – particularly those I’d need to go out of my way to obtain a new copy or translation of…” The blond reached for another sheet of parchment, but his king’s hand moved to catch his wrist. A wry smile crept to Kain’s lips in response.
“Really, Kain?”
“… Maybe not.”
“Good. Time for bed.” The paladin’s voice was soft, but no less firm – and Kain couldn’t help but be pulled to his feet by the very sound if it. Cecil extinguished the candle, allowing the silver to spread to encompass the dragoon as well, and led Kain toward his own bed in the darkness. They shared a chaste goodnight kiss in the darkness before Kain climbed in bed and Cecil got in on the other side, so that Rosa’s sleeping form was between them in the bed, and the bed was so warm with his companions that it was almost a shame that they were caught in the midst of a cool summer night (although it looked to be subsiding into autumn soon enough). Cecil seemed to be asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow; Rosa’s breathing remained deep and even for as long as Kain cared to notice before his eyelids, too, grew heavy with the darkness.
Word Count: 3104
Rating: MA [Explicit Sexual Content]
Fandom: Final Fantasy IV + The After Years
Characters: Kain Highwind, Cecil Harvey, Rosa Joanna Farrel
Author Notes: I’m not even sorry, tbh. According to this Hemingway app thing (Google it), this reads on a 16th grade reading level? I don't believe that but here, have some shameless OT3 porn anyway.
AO3
While the town of Baron proper was only just starting to warm up in preparation for spring, it seemed to already have come in the southern part of the country – although someone had yet to tell the trees that. The mountains to the west and the sea to the east helped make villages in the region a popular vacation spot for nobles – and for royalty.
It had admittedly taken a bit of persuasion to get Cecil to come with them – but eventually it paid off, and the entirety of the political duties had been left to one of the most respected men in the royal court (and Ceodore was instructed to observe, given that the Red Wings had temporarily lost their captain). Some time off would undoubtedly do all of them some good – politics and military affairs had always, and likely always will be stressful. They tucked themselves away in a small cottage on the outskirts of town – closer to the mountains than anything else, given that, much to Rosa’s dismay, both men were completely opposed to spending much time down by the shore, for two completely different reasons. The locals were inclined to revere and fear them before they made it clear that they weren’t there for any political affairs, at which point the locals relaxed and it was almost like the three of them had lived their whole lives there with how welcoming they were.
And, needless to say, after a week of rest, none of them were really looking forward to returning. But Baron needed its king and queen. The six days prior, a bag of tea had been sitting on the table downstairs, untouched, but in the absence of alternatives it seemed that Cecil and Rosa had decided to use it instead of save it and bring it home with them. It had been imported – Kain thought he recalled something about it being from Troia, but hell if he could think clearly less than five minutes after actually waking up. Cecil offered him a cup, saying something about Damiana or whatever, and when Kain just looked at him he clarified that it was similar to Chamomile. He wasn’t sure why they were drinking such a thing in the morning – but they seemed wakeful enough that he figured it wouldn’t hurt.
Breakfast was not restricted to the table, as it usually was, with Rosa and Cecil wandering a bit as Kain took some time to enjoy the tea using the nightstand as his chosen surface for his plate and cup – despite being similar to Chamomile, it didn’t taste quite the same, and was actually interesting enough flavor-wise to earn a quirk of Kain’s eyebrow. It wasn’t familiar, but it certainly wasn’t bad…
He let out a contented hum, setting his cup down on the saucer and pausing a bit before he realized that Cecil had even said anything. “Sorry—what?”
It was sure a good thing that Cecil was a patient man because he just smiled and repeated, “Rosa and I were just planning on staying in today, but if you had any plans…”
To that, Kain simply shrugged. “Nothing important.” Why make plans when you’re on vacation, after all? “Just a few errands before we go home. I can take care of them myself.” The relief that shone on both Rosa and Cecil’s faces earned a fleeting smirk from the dragoon – they needn’t have asked for his approval in the first place, honestly. He was more than happy to oblige their wishes, whatever they may be, and if his king and queen wanted to spend the day in while he tied up loose ends, then who was he to refuse?
Kain was out by midday and back long before dusk, a scant few things that they all agreed they needed to have to take back swaddled in a makeshift cloth sack which he dropped on the dining room table upon his entry. Nothing fancy – just a few things for Rosa’s mother, for Ceodore, for the kingdom’s makeshift leader as a show of gratitude. And, in the case of an extra bag of that tea they had that morning, themselves.
Speaking of the tea – Kain had begun to suspect what kept it from being exactly like Chamomile partway through his short excursion, suspicions which were confirmed by the soft noises coming from upstairs, though they seemed to have ceased when he returned. He wasn’t at all surprised when Rosa appeared about halfway down the stairs, wrapped in only a sheet and regarding him patiently as he shuffled the things in the bag into more proper places. He smiled at her, and she smiled back before beckoning him over.
How could he refuse? Honestly, he’d be lying if he refused to admit that the thought never crossed his mind over the course of the day – and what better way to round off a vacation than by giving his beloved the attention they deserved? Once everything was in order, Kain followed Rosa upstairs, not even bothering to silently correct himself when he wished that the sheet she held around her would reveal to him just a bit more of her skin, not even making an attempt to mask the look on his face when his gaze fell on Cecil, laid bare on their bed.
Rosa stole his lips in a kiss when they were about halfway into the room, one arm around Kain’s neck to help her get the extra height she needed to reach while her free hand guided his to her hip just before he tugged the sheet down and away, although neither could do much about the fact that it caught on her leg once it fell from her hips, leaving her, for the most part, bare. He let the hand she guided to her hip remain while the other travelled up her back before coming to rest between her shoulder blades, holding her body to his in a loose embrace. Never had there been a time prior and, likely, never would there be a time in the future where Rosa couldn’t leave Kain speechless; she was beautiful in body, in mind, and in soul, and even the divine could stand up to Baron’s queen in a contest for Kain’s heart. Rosa’s kisses trailed down to his neck and he groaned softly, a light blush gracing his cheeks as the arm around his neck fell away and Rosa’s hands slipped under his tunic. Thin, delicate fingers traced the scars etched into his body – proofs of battle and of penance. Her touch was light and soft, worlds away from the way Cecil handled him (though granted, he and Cecil saw each other to satisfy a very different version of their baser urges than they would ever begin to ask Rosa to tolerate); and of Kain – Kain was almost lost in her soft skin, her elegant curves.
Her kisses descended briefly to his collarbone before she pulled away with a sharp nip, though no marks were left in her wake. She started to work Kain’s clothing off and he lent her a helping hand in that regard and after that was discarded she saw about slipping his pants off of him – his breath hitched when she fumbled with the fastening (intentionally clumsy, he figured; in the past she had no problem undoing it in one fluid motion) and her lips curved upwards in a mischievous smile just before she paused and took a moment to palm him through the fabric. He rocked his hips into the touch and Rosa bit down on her lower lip lightly, briefly, before returning to the task at hand.
Once his pants fell away, they took those final steps toward the bed – Rosa took a seat on the side of it and Kain’s gaze wandered to Cecil, whom in turn was watching him, his hand slowly stroking his own erection. Their eyes met and Kain slowly fell to his knees before him, lightly patting the bed a few times before Cecil got the hint and sat up, now seated on the bed rather than laying down, his legs situated on either side of Kain’s head. The blond set to work picking up where Cecil left off, one hand coming to rest on his thigh while he took Cecil’s length in his other, slowly stroking before pressing his lips to the tip.
The paladin was basically flushed from the shoulders upward, eyes fixed on Kain, captivated. “This is rare,” he muttered, though certainly Kain’s decision to do this for him was not an unpleasant surprise.
“I’m not so proud that I wouldn’t bow before my king,” Kain muttered in return. Then he took Cecil’s length into his mouth and his king let out a noise that was caught between a gasp and a shuddering moan. Kain kneaded his grip into Cecil’s thigh briefly before he felt Cecil lean back a bit and he moved it up to grip his hip; the hand previously preoccupied stroking Cecil followed suit, and even if Cecil wanted to buck his hips he couldn’t and that was just how Kain wanted it. He could feel the heat coiling in his own groin by the time he came up for air, and he smiled up at the paladin, although with Rosa’s lips keeping his busy, her hands tangled in his soft, white, wavy locks, it was doubtful that the smile registered with either of them. And that was fine.
He licked his lips, letting his eyes slip closed as his tongue briefly flicked out against the head of Cecil’s erection; the soft, muffled noise he earned spurred him onwards and he dipped his head to lick up the entire length before taking him into his mouth once more, flattening his tongue and pressing his head forward until he could feel Cecil’s cock against the back of his throat. A brief moment was spent making sure he could keep his gag reflex under control – then he swallowed around him and the noise Cecil made above him was so heated that he was almost certain that it would be followed by his release, and he was almost disappointed when it wasn’t. Kain pulled back, panting, returning one hand to Cecil’s length while the other fell away entirely. And it was this point when Kain couldn’t resist touching himself anymore, said hand wrapping around his own length – and he slowly started stroking up and down both his and Cecil’s, before working up a brisker rhythm and it was a great relief for him but an even greater one for Cecil, whose release was prompt and Kain took the tip into his mouth while his hand continued its work. He swallowed down every last drop of Cecil’s essence, savoring the taste, and it wasn’t until Cecil relaxed against the bed that Kain stood, taking his place between his king and his queen.
Cecil kissed him briefly, praising his work, and Kain smirked into it; Rosa cupped his jaw and turned his head so that she could plant a kiss on his forehead. She slid lower until she was seated where Kain’s legs parted and she brought one hand down his chest to hold his erection to her groin and she leaned forward to press kisses to his collarbone once more, this time making certain that she left marks. Kain let his hands roam her body, caress her curves and tangle in her strawberry blonde hair – one particularly rough nip earned a groan from him and he felt Rosa’s lips curve into a smile against his skin. He arched into her, wishing desperately to feel her slick heat around him but all in due time; just the fact that Rosa was here and she wanted him was enough to make him count his blessings. With her free hand, she teased one of his nipples just as Cecil pressed his lips to the other, and Kain let his head fall back onto the bed.
“God, please; Rosa, Cecil…”
The words were little more than a whisper, and both of his beloveds shared a knowing look and smile before pulling away, lying beside each other. Rosa slowly spread her legs wide and raised her knees up a bit – and the offer filled him with heat and he knew it was no use trying to delay or question; he was on her almost immediately, kissing her lips, her neck, and guiding himself to her entrance and feeling her shudder beneath him as he slid into her. Rosa dug her nails into Kain’s back and Cecil pressed kisses to the nape of his neck and the dragoon groaned, a smile gracing his lips as he set a slow, steady rhythm that made Rosa’s body arch against him, made her gasp out in pleasure. Made her breathe his name – something that, prior to entering into this difficult to define relationship with both her and Cecil, only happened in his wildest fantasies. It was all he could do not to dig his nails into her hips – she could treat him however she liked, but he’d never dream of leaving marks on her – as he pressed his eyes closed and submitted himself to the warm bliss of her body. Soft sounds slipped past his lips – groans and breathless moans, mostly, but also including words of praise and her name, over and over again: “Rosa, Rosa, Rosa…”
He felt Cecil shift, felt him move behind him and run his hands over his shoulders, down his back and hips – and he wished he would join in this pleasure, but they’d used up the last of the oil they used as a lubricant earlier in the week, which was a shame. But Cecil’s stray touches still lent to the experience a certain tenderness that only he was capable of adding, and somewhere in the midst of it all Rosa actually moans his name, out loud, her voice unbearably heated although more out of desperation than of anything else. Her voice and the way she clenched down around him spurred him onward – “Faster, Kain” – until he couldn’t take anymore. He moaned her name as his arm gave way and he buried his face in her shoulder, pressing soft kisses there as he came with a shuddering gasp and one last thrust. She allowed him to remain like that until he caught his breath and, after pressing one last kiss to Rosa’s lips, pulling away and lying down beside her.
In the haze of the aftermath he thought he heard her praising him, but by the time it cleared away, Cecil had already descended upon her, his lips pressed to hers as he worked in and out of her, muffling any noises. He either couldn’t or didn’t want badly enough to pull his gaze away – so he assumed Cecil’s previous role, teasing one of Rosa’s breasts and hearing how her breath caught in her throat, pressing kisses to Cecil’s shoulders and brushing strands of hair spun of moonlight out of his face and behind his ear. Cecil didn’t last quite as long as Kain did, but took some extra time to appreciate and worship his wife’s body before pulling away. Rosa sat up, two of her fingers sliding against her slit and coming away with just a bit of milky white fluid – whether it was Kain’s or Cecil’s, impossible to determine – before she licked it away. “Kain,” she muttered – and with that it became apparent that their jobs weren’t done yet; not quite. They both regarded her curiously (though Cecil less so, and he was already shifting so that he could sit behind her) for a moment nonetheless before a smile graced her lips and she continued:
“Would you mind bowing to your queen as well?”
“Of course not.”
And with that, he shifted down, settling half-on her right leg, half between her legs as she laid back against Cecil and cupped her breasts with both hands. The dragoon licked at her slit and took a moment to marvel at the taste – or rather, all of their tastes intermingled: a little tart and a little sweet and a little salty. Cecil’s hands settled on her hips and he and Rosa shared a kiss before Kain slipped one of his fingers into her, then another, earning a moan that only built in volume when he started pumping them in and out. Rosa’s toes curled and her legs shifted, wanting to rub together but unable to; Kain was unrelenting, though, and eager to please his queen. He removed his fingers and took a moment to lap up the fluid from them before he pressed his lips to her, letting his tongue delve into her and elicit a heated moan.
“Please, Kain,” Rosa begged, and the dragoon paused and looked up at her, but that seemed to be all there was to say. His fingers returned to her entrance and his lips moved up to her clit, pressing his tongue to it and curling his fingers inside of her. He could feel himself beginning to grow hard again, listening to the noise Rosa made above him, feeling the way she clenched around his fingers – though he was certain that it wouldn’t cause too much of an issue (he’d had his fill). It was a struggle to keep his breathing even, though after drawing in closer for the last time that didn’t seem to be an issue at all, with the way her muscles tightened in anticipation – and then when he pressed his tongue to her clit, a shudder ran down her spine and she clenched down around his fingers and mewled his name before, after a few long moments, relaxing against the bed. Kain withdrew his fingers and slipped them into his mouth before moving up to plant a kiss on her forehead before she rolled off of Cecil.
All satisfied, they laid there for a few long moments. Cecil’s hands came to rest on Rosa’s waist as she snuggled into his chest – Kain propped himself up on one elbow and regarded him with a smile for a moment before joining them. Cecil brushed a flaxen lock away from Kain’s face and over his shoulder. They remained quiet, either on virtue of their voices being too tired or seeing no need for further words as they laid together, Rosa between the paladin and the dragoon, a contented smile gracing her lips. Cecil and Kain shared a soft, chaste kiss before they settled down on either side of her once and for all, holding her close and cherishing every inch of her, of each other.
