#heres ash and b.asch smooching it out! good for them! they enjoy the night a lot

[silverselfshippingchaos]

Pairing: Ash (self-insert)/Basch fon Ronsenburg

Word Count: Almost 800.

Warnings: suggestive if you squint, literally just them making out, takes place a year after the game, vague ff12 spoilers

Synopsis: Unfortunately so, not even being a married woman could save Ash from the responsibility of being the Flame of Rabanastre. And yet, in times of peace, the distance between her and her husband felt farther than ever. With enough nagging from her friends and comrades, Ash takes the journey to reunite with her husband. And clearly, her knight in shining armor missed her just as much as she missed him.

The Arcadian silks are smooth and soft against Ash's bare back as she lies down against the back, letting Basch climb on top of her with ease. Ash makes herself comfortable against the cushioned pillows. Her hair was down, a halo of black curls that Basch had been so eager to feel once again. After all, it wasn't often they had time for themselves since the war ended, so all the time they had together was savored.

Ash's hands grasp at the sheets,

"Now these... These are nice."

"Aren't they?"

Basch's voice is deep and rough, and it's clear that the last thing he's focused on is the look of the damn sheets.

"You look beautiful with the red as your canvas."

Ash could never get enough of him, and she never planned to. The ring on her finger was but a physical representation of a promise that was always there, even when Basch was behind bars for two years. Still, despite it all, Ash thinks to herself that she was the luckiest woman in all of Ivalice to have such a view all to herself.

Ash humors his words with a soft smirk. Her fingers trail up from the red, silken sheets up his arm. Her touch is gently, her nails just dragging along his scarred skin and muscle to eventually rest her hand upon his cheek. She takes a moment to truly admire him.

They were older now, so much older than they were when they meet, but blue-gray eyes like a perfect storm always stayed the same. His hair was shorter now, in an attempt to look like someone who he never truly was. To the world, Basch was dead. To her, Basch was her life.

"It is rather exquisite bedding... Though I would expect nothing less from the Emperor's loyal protector."

Through the thin, white curtains blowing softly from the window, there was little but the moonlight illuminating them. Ash liked it that way—It reminded her of old times. Nothing but them and the sand beneath the stars, the sounds of quiet gasps and whispers of love the only thing either of them could care about. Archades wasn't the deserts she called home, but Basch's arms were home enough.

A flame needs a spark, and that's exactly what he was to her.

Ash leans her head back with a soft moan as her partner kisses her neck. If this is what happened whenever she got out of Rabanastre for a month, perhaps she had better become Archadia's Flame instead, always within arms reach of her loyal knight.

Basch leans in to pepper kisses along Ash's jaw, the poke of his short beard a contrast to the soft, feather-like touches of his lips.

Ash can feel him chuckle,

"I am much more than that, my lady. Allow me to show you."

They had been lovers for years, friends for even longer. It's not heated passion or lust that brought them together on that quiet night in the castle, but rather the feeling of two lovers reuniting. And Ash has no complaints.

There is nothing quick or hungry about the way Basch kisses her. Basch does not just kiss her. Basch worships Ash. Her body is one that he knows all too well. It was one that he had known when he was so much more than the man he was now, one that he had known whenever he was held in chains in Nalbina, and one that he had known in the hot, Dalmascan nights that left him red and exhausted.

Every inch of her is something that he knows so intimately, so he takes his time kissing her, feeling her as if to memorize her with his lips once more.

How could she? She had spent so many nights in Rabanastre dreaming night and day about her husband's arms only to realize that, as always, the real thing is so much better. Basch's lips trail down to her clavicle, kissing and sucking soft bruises that he knew Ash loved. The sweet melody of her breath and soft whispers of I love you only serving as motivation for him to continue. After all, it was a knight's job to serve his lady.

His hand trails to the side to meet hers, their fingers interlocking in a way that only affirmed the belief that, yes, they truly were made for each other. Ash simply closes her eyes and sighs, basking in the feeling.

Perfect in every single way is what Basch was to her.