Title: Sweetness

Chapter 4: For Ice Cream

Warning: Same old, same old. I'll assume that if you're still reading this then you're okay with the smut. If not, cover those eyes kids!

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Ocean

A/N: Greetings once again patient readers! Here is the final installment of this little relief fic/distraction of mine which has lasted much longer than I expected. Oh I'm sure there's more story to be told...but I am too lazy to bother D: It's always fun to stop a plot short, right? XD

ooooo

Albel ran his open palm along the length of his young lover, treating the boy to the silent reverence usually reserved for the gods. It was blatant worship and awe that glimmered in the veteran soldier's eyes as his nimble fingers encircled and stroked Fayt at their leisure. The calloused hands of the elite swordsman were stained with blood, and forever tainted with the deaths of others, good and bad, innocent and wicked, yet they still possessed something other than the power to kill. In his slow, precise motions, Albel had the power to please another if he willed it, and he had chosen to make the effort for his young leader. The boy who had conquered him, spared him, and redeemed him, was now sharing a moment with him that was undeniably precious. For years, Fayt's innocence had been aged and preserved like a fine wine, and Albel would be the one to finally break the seal. He would be the first, and the only one - if Albel had his way - who would discover the sweet nuances and textures of Fayt's coveted vintage.

Albel rubbed him slowly at first, teasing out every spine tingling sound he possibly could. Fayt panted for him, moaned his name, and regarded him with such an expression of manic satisfaction that Albel was more than a little confused. Sure, he was good . . . but this good? He was barely doing anything, yet Fayt was reacting as if - Albel frowned slightly - as if he was faking it. As the thought crossed his mind, Albel noticed something else, which was more than a little suspicious. Fayt's eyes, which Albel had assumed were focused entirely on him, had started to wander. The boy was not squinting at him, but leering at his box of flavourful confections.

A small droplet of drool manifested at the side of Fayt's mouth, and Albel watched with interest as it trickled the rest of the way down his chin, prompting the boy to lick his lips and groan, quite sensually if Albel was any judge of that sort of thing. Seeing Fayt drooling over him was just too pleasing, and Albel flushed a little with pride. But was he truly deserving of that type of reaction, or had something else caused it?

Albel zeroed in for a wet kiss, and Fayt suffered his attentions with patient tolerance, but he was a little too eager to separate for Albel's liking.

Now Albel knew he had been subjected to a hard life and his past was creepy and dark with horrific events. Good things just didn't happen to him. Hell, the best days of his life were spent carving angry faces into the hides of random monsters just to advertise to the rest of the planet how unhappy he was inside. Therefore, with the entire deck of life stacked against him, Albel could not believe that anything had changed, and even less convinced when he saw Fayt's hand creeping ever closer to the edge of the bed. Sure, the boy disguised it well, clutching at the sheets as if the pleasure was unbearable, but his fingers were still inching steadily towards Albel's sweet nothings.

The cold, tasty variety.

It was becoming painfully clear that Fayt was still after his ice cream. "Fayt," Albel began, his tone low and suspicious. "Are you-?"

"Oh just shut up and suck, Albel!" Fayt griped finally.
The Wicked One looked dazed for a moment, but he shrugged it off and did as Fayt asked. In one fluid motion, he lowered his head and took the younger man's length into his mouth, his teeth brushing against sensitive skin, making Fayt flinch in discomfort. Seeing this, Albel soothed the pained flesh with a soft tongue, and his concern was rewarded handsomely as a grateful whimper rose in Fayt's throat. Albel paused for a moment and raised his head as curiosity got the better of him. Hearing the noises Fayt made when he was excited just wasn't enough. He wanted to see the satisfaction firsthand, or so he told himself. In truth, he needed validation from someone who wouldn't hide from him, or lie to spare his feelings because they feared him. If he failed at this, what good was he?

But while Albel struggled to define his self worth, Fayt was left in a state of confused arousal. Within moments of catching sight of the doubt in Albel's expression, Fayt blinked and gave the man a reassuring smile. "Don't stop...okay?"

Albel nodded slowly, before leaning over once again to finish. Without expecting it, Albel had found what he had been searching for in Fayt's kind eyes. Acceptance, of him and everything he could, or could not do, was what Fayt offered him, and he wasn't about give that up.

" . . . Albel," Fayt rasped, his body contorting with agonizing pleasure. Something was building within him that felt exponentially better than the times when he had touched himself.

"Hmm?" It was all the older man could manage, since his mouth was more than a little occupied at the moment.

"Albel, I'm-" Fayt gasped as every muscle in his body tensed.

Albel felt it too, and he smiled inwardly. I see. Vile little worm. If only those friends of his could see this . . .

Fayt groaned when he felt Albel tighten his grasp. The swordsman rubbed him vigorously, quick and strong while he teased the younger man's slit with his tongue, eager for Fayt's release.

Nearing his limit, Fayt gave a final strained warning. "Sh-shit Albel, I'm gonna-"

"H-hey guys?" A small, plaintive voice called from the outside their bedroom door. "What are you doing in there? It sounds like fun! Can I play too?"

"The hell?" Albel tore himself away and looked toward the door. Mistake number one, as Fayt couldn't hold himself any longer. The sudden interruption caused his restraint to crumble and the next thing Albel heard was a relieved groan, followed by the splattering of something wet and warm against his face.

Albel's head swung back around to stare at Fayt. "Tell me you didn't just . . . "

Fayt innocently whistled a tune, and began to study the artistic splendor of a watermark on the inn's ceiling.

Albel swiped a careful hand across his cheek, and stared in stunned shock at the sticky white substance which came off on his fingers. To his dismay, Albel found himself coated in Essence of Fayt. The horror, the horror! It wasn't just his face either. There was some in his hair, and a little smudged on the tip of his nose . . .

Such is the plight of the romantic fanfic protagonist.

"Don't you have ANY self-control?" Albel fumed. Fayt shrugged halfheartedly, and Albel sighed. Of course he couldn't control himself. I'm too good.

"Guys?" The voice was a little higher this time, and had a disturbing whiny edge to it.

Fayt sighed. "We're a little busy, Roger," he called to the young Menodix. "I'll . . . play with you later . . . " Fayt muttered, cringing as he realized just how bad that sounded given his latest activities. Albel, on the other hand, shook his head at that promise. Leave it to Fayt to be the sacrificial hero.

"O-okay . . . " The voice shrunk to a sad sigh, whispered through disappointed lips only to be swallowed up by the sound of small feet plodding away. When the footsteps were joined by the unmistakable sound of a dejected tail dragging against the polished floors of the inn, Fayt was almost overwhelmed with pity and guilt.

"Don't you dare," Albel warned him, doing his best to glare the boy into compliance.

"What?" Fayt cried with supreme indignation. Albel couldn't read his thoughts, so the man had no right to accuse him of anything.

"You're mine for the day, worm. Not his. I want to get the most out of my investment, if you know what I mean." Albel favoured the boy with a brief kiss and pulled away to prepare for the next round. Fayt watched on as Albel struggled to remove a couple necessary articles of clothing from his lower half. He succeeded in record time, tossing skirt and panties aside fast enough to rival even veteran pornstars.

To Fayt's surprise, Albel had neglected to remove his boots and the stylish thigh-high leggings which completed his unique outfit. The boy made a quick mental note to ask about it later. For the moment though, he decided that it had to be one of Albel's kinks, as if the man really needed another . . .

Nearly finished, Albel couldn't resist turning hungry eyes on the frantically blushing Fayt. "You're serious about this?" Fayt asked, amazed that he had allowed things to progress this far.

"Haven't I made that clear to you?" Albel purred, taking a moment to slip out of his cropped shirt, revealing a toned body, slick with sweat. Without warning that same sleek body was pressed against Fayt's own bare skin, and Albel's tongue had darted out to tickle an earlobe which reddened under his attentions. And that was all it took. With a brief caress and a teasing touch, Fayt Leingod, the Embodiment of Destruction, or Destructor to his lamer friends, belonged completely to him . . . but not for long.

Both men assumed that they had seen the last of the party's favourite raccoon boy, and so they quickly initiated phase two of their agreement. Albel had Fayt pinned to the bed with five clawed fingers digging into the boys chest to hold him in place, and was about to introduce him to the joys of penetration, when disaster struck.

A sudden, insistent tapping at their door ruined the mood for the last time. The two consenting adults were jolted into instinctive acts of self-preservation, frantically grasping for blankets to cover themselves while knowing full well that if word of their activities spread it was very likely that an army of pervy fangirls would soon be knocking down their bedroom door.

Now if either of the lusty duo had taken the time to lock the door in preparation for their activities, then their sexual romp would have been smooth sailing, or some other not-so-clever analogy. But thanks to one small oversight, they would soon pay a price that neither one could truly afford.

There was no chance to stop the inevitable from happening as Roger burst through the unlocked door in search of answers. Taking one look and the two grown men who were currently positioned in a sweaty mess of tangled limbs, Roger tapped a stubby foot on the floor and looked thoughtful. His child's brain tried to make sense of the information his innocent eyes fed it, but to no avail.

"Um, what are you guys doing?" He asked brightly. "Is this a new Real Man contest?"

Albel huffed and refused to answer the brat, while Fayt continued to stare in horror at the youngest member of their party. Why did bad things happen to good people? Before Fayt could start enlightening Roger with his yaoi-flavoured rendition of the birds and the bees, the boy's eyes lit up with a revelation.

"I get it! With all of the noises you're making it must be torture! Heh, I guess it's good to be prepared . . ." Roger's eyes wandered, moved past the writhing couple, and focused on something which had been placed on the nearest bedside table. "Is that a box of ice cream bars?" he asked dreamily.

"They're mine, worm," Albel snarled. "Get your own."

But Albel's warning went unheeded.

In a blur of ears, tail, and stumpy-legged mischievousness, Roger captured the prized box of semi-frozen sweetness which could do little to defend itself against his attack. "Alright! Wait'll I show everyone!" Raising his prize in a victorious gesture, Roger scampered out of the bedroom and headed back toward the protection of the others.

"That little rodent!" Albel growled, completely dumbstruck by what had just occurred. It just wasn't possible! Albel the Wicked, Airyglyph's best swordsman and self proclaimed sharpest mind had been duped and robbed by a pint-sized miscreant who boasted the skills, and intelligence equal only to those of a very large sewer rat. The enraged man's eyes narrowed and burned with the need for vengeance.

"You'll pay a thousand times for that, fool!" he bellowed to Roger's quickly retreating form. Without thinking, Albel scrambled to his feet, fully prepared to chase the thief in order to force a violent, and most likely bloody, confrontation to avenge his stolen goods, when a comforting voice from his partner reached toward him from the bed, embracing him with its gentle tone.

"What about me, Albel?"

The Glyphian hazarded a glance down, and his gaze was met with the tempting visage of Fayt. Naked Fayt. Asking him without a word to stay and finish. It was a cruel, cruel choice. He truly had been abandoned by the gods. Albel looked at Fayt, swivelled his head toward the direction Roger had gone, then back at Fayt. Indecisive longing was etched on his usually unreadable features, and Albel whined softly under his breath like a puppy choosing between its master and a brightly coloured chew toy. The warrior sighed deeply, cast one more regretful look at his emerald-eyed partner-in-lust, and ran out the bedroom door in pursuit of Roger.

"WAIT!" Fayt shouted after him in desperation. "A-Albel, you're-"

"WHAT?" Albel roared, storming back into the room only to glare at Fayt. There was a crazed look in his crimson eyes which stopped the younger man dead in his verbal tracks. Fayt blinked, allowed his eyes to focus and scanned Albel's body casually, masking his expression with utter innocence to hide his inner pervert who was relishing the swordsman's nakedness far too much to be proper.

"Nothing," Fayt shrugged. Jaded and annoyed, Fayt would have his revenge. If Albel was going to yell at him when he was only trying to help, then the man deserved everything he got!

"I thought so, fool," Albel snorted contemptuously and rushed out into the hallway once again. Roger now had the lead, but for a man driven by hunger, it was not insurmountable. As recompense, he shouted a string of - comforting - comments over his shoulder. "It's alright if you finish without me, worm. I don't mind."

But as he ran down the hall, Albel felt annoying feelings of guilt seeping into his thoughts, tainting his hopeful determination with the poison of regret. Still, Albel really wanted his ice cream back no matter what, and even Fayt couldn't dull that desire. As fun as it was, Albel knew that eating cock would only leave you hungry an hour later, and by then, he would need to indulge in sweet temptation once again . . . with his ice cream, that is.

ooooo

Stark naked and sitting alone in his empty bed, Fayt was livid. You've got to be kidding me! Fayt thought disgustedly, his own mental voice radiating exasperation. "He chose the ice cream over me . . ." It was a shocker, that's for sure. Who would ever give up the chance to bed Fayt Leingod? He had 'grade A uke' written all over him, so why in the Seven Hells had he lost his lover to a box of tasty, manufactured evil?

The boy considered it for another moment and tried to imagine what he would have done. And the decision was in Albel's favour. I can't really blame him. They looked delicious. I would have done the same . . . in a heartbeat.

With a lonely sigh, Fayt straightened the bed sheets and snuggled under. He didn't need a bedmate to keep him company when he had such a wonderfully fluffy comforter, now did he? Of course not. The soft blanket curled protectively around him, enveloping him in warmth and security. Best of all, it didn't ask for anything in return. Oh yes, Fayt could grow to love the single life . . . unless something happened very soon which would change his mind.

ooooo

Several hours later, Fayt awoke from his shallow nap to the sound of heavy footsteps by his bedside. Sitting up, Fayt rubbed his eyes and looked around to see who was making the noise. To his surprise, a very depressed looking Albel sank down beside him on the bed and sighed deeply.

"Alb-wha?" Fayt managed to mumble sleepily. To Hell with coherent speech. Albel never listened to him anyway, and this time was no different.

"I was too late," he announced. "I failed." Albel sadly held aloft the remnants of his purchase for Fayt to see. The box was crumpled, torn, and noticeably sticky with crushed and melted ice cream glopped all over it. If one looked even closer, they couldn't miss the clumps of fur which had mixed with the damaged, decadent desserts.

A look of horror flitted over Fayt's features. If the box looks that bad, I can't imagine what kind of shape Roger must be in . . .

"I was surrounded by Aquarian scum, and th-they kept screaming at me. 'Albel the Wicked Pervert!' they chanted while hitting me w-with bread. Although that blonde ape gave me a thumbs up . . . " Albel shook his head in confusion. "Why didn't you tell me I was running naked after a twelve-year-old boy?"

How did you not notice that yourself? The frustrated Earthling wanted to ask, but wisely held his tongue instead. Fayt stared at him and remained silent, allowing Albel's traumatized mind to regain one particular memory.

"Oh, that's right. You tried . . . " For a moment, Albel looked thoughtful, and almost guilty. Gathering his wits, he gazed deep into Fayt's bright eyes, opened his mouth, and hollered at him. "Next time, TRY HARDER, maggot!"

Unfazed, Fayt smiled brightly. "Next time?" he taunted. "Do you plan to make a habit of this fun little activity? I'm sure it'll look great on your list of crimes. If nothing else, it gives a whole new meaning to the old phrase, don't take candy from a stranger!" Still sniggering at his clever joke, Fayt had the decency to cover his mouth in a vain attempt to stifle his amusement. When he realized that Albel was actually being hurt by his teasing, he sobered.

Humbled, Albel could only look even more distraught. He had lost to Fayt in a battle of wits. What was the world coming to anyway? Not only that, but he had been defeated by Roger. Roger! It was so unnerving that it bore repeating.

"Um, Albel?"

The wretched man looked at him, and Fayt could see the disappointment which had settled in Albel's eyes. It was more than a simple box of ice cream. Albel had lost yet another thing which he had held dear, all because he was too weak to defend it.

"What now? You don't need to attempt to comfort me, fool. I don't have anything you could possibly want."

"We didn't get a chance to finish earlier . . . " Fayt pointed out.
"Spare me, Fayt. I know you were only after these," Albel grumbled, flourishing the box once again for Fayt to see. Without the chance for a chilly reward, there was no way Fayt would actually spend time with him. They had only been fooling themselves.

"I'm not allowed to change my mind?"

"Hn?" Albel raised his head to look at Fayt. The boy smiled, and wrapped his arms tightly around Albel's sagging shoulders. "Fayt . . . ?" What was the emotion in his voice? Hope?

"You still haven't tried my cream filling, you know . . . " Fayt murmured, resting his head lovingly on Albel's shoulder and tracing a finger over the man's firm stomach, twirling it around in small, delicate circles. His grin stretched wider when he felt the older man gasp and shiver under his gentle touch.

"And just what exactly will I gain from this, worm?" Albel breathed, his voice thick with overdue desire.

"At the very least, a night to remember. And if you're lucky . . ." Fayt gazed at him with half-lidded emerald eyes, and a coy smile on his face. "I'll buy you a new box tomorrow . . . "

At the mention of more ice cream, Albel's eyes gleamed with renewed hunger. He licked his lips, almost able to taste the familiar sweetness as fond memories of that afternoon sparkled in his mind. With a curt nod, he showed his approval.

"Deal."

ooo-Finis-ooo

A/N: How's that for a happy ending? Oh sure, it could have gone farther but for some reason I'm in no mood to write a crackified lemon. Perhaps some other time, in an epilogue far, far away. XD Super bonus points to anyone who recognized Albel's battle quote, proving for the first time ever that one stolen box of ice cream bars is equal to one dead Fayt, and that's something you'd never learn in math class folks, believe me. And now, I shall leave you all with one final piece of randomness spawned from a bored mind. Enjoy.

Omake: The Adventures of Fat Albel

It was a sunny day in Airyglyph when a certain blue-haired Embodiment of Destruction approached a certain wicked swordsman with an appeal to the man's sense of aesthetic pride. Albel, who was sitting quietly with a bar of ice cream sticking out of his mouth (the tenth one that day), eyes glazed with gluttonous pleasure, didn't notice Fayt until the boy was standing right in front of him.

"Um, Albel?"

"What?"

"Look, I was talking with the others and..."

"Just spit it out, maggot! I don't have time to listen to you!"

"Albel...you're getting..." Fayt bit his lip and a nervous twitch broke out above his right eye.

"What IS it, fool?"

"Listen Albel, some of us, well, just me actually... I'm worried about the, ah, extra weight you've been carrying."

"You mean the gauntlet? Well, I did upgrade it a while ago, so it's a bit heavier. I didn't think anyone had noticed..."

"That's not what I meant..."

"Well then what did you mean? I'm afraid I don't speak idiot."

"Fine. I think you have a bit of a weight problem."

"What was that?"

"I SAID YOU'RE GETTING FAT!"

"I'm not DEAF though, AM I?" Albel roared.

"Hmph. Don't you have any self-respect, Albel?"

"You're just jealous! There's more of me to love now, that's all."

"Your obi won't even tie!"

"Don't insult my lifestyle choice!"

"At least consider something in a one-piece..."

"Are you saying that you don't find me attractive anymore, worm?"

"You can't even bend over, can you?"

"What?"

"You heard me, Mr. I'm not deaf."

"Bah!"

The End? Well yes.