Notes: Written for DW's "Porn Battle". Prompt: Final Fantasy X-2, Gippal/Baralai, together, love, sand, mouth, language, rough, slow. I wrote this in a sort of "stream of conciousness style".

The desert. Indescribable except for sand, unbelievable night sky sprinkled with stars that could reflect the sand if they were mirrors. The two don't know what to do. One is Al Bhed, blond, one-eyed and like a god. The other is of Yevon, dark skinned, white haired, and indescribable except for beautiful brown eyes. They are indescribable under the desert moon, sand, sky, cool air. They are away from the others in a nightly ritual of breathing, touching, climaxing under the desert sky. They know what to do. They always do yet don't yet do it all anyway. No one knows, and no one cares. No one asks, and no one tells. Like anyone would stop them in the middle of the Bikanel Desert full of sand, monsters, guns and love.

Gippal is an Al Bhed full of smiles, of energy, of everything the Yevonite Baralai did not resist. He has a sensual mouth with a sensual blue eye, a sensual eye-patch, and sensual skills. Baralai, ever the attempted poet, could never describe his dearest friend, just like he couldn't describe the desert full of sand that stretched for miles under the clear night sky. Beautiful desert, desolate in the day, desolate in the night yet full of what cannot be described by anyone, not even poets. Perhaps they could try and fail. Perhaps they could describe the two young men sitting next to each other in the desert, naked in the desert, a contrast in the desert. Try and fail. To interfere is to try and die.

Is there a point to all this? Baralai does not know, nor does he care. Gippal knows, but still doesn't care. All they need is love with no apologies, explanations, justifications, or anything except for more making love. The desert accepts them just as the luminous full moon accepts them the way the stars accept the cold universe. Baralai sighs, unable to describe anything, except for the warmth of his friend and lover next to him. They are silent now, except for their breaths against the desert air gliding over their bodies, cool against warm skin. Baralai leans into Gippal, wanting him more, but he is patient because he knows that there will be many more days like this.

Just like this.