Boyd's Beefcake
Author's Note: Well, I was playing Path of Radiance for the millionth time, and I read the interesting support conversation between Mist and Jill, and Mist was talking about making Jill some of "Mist's Magical Meatloaf". Then, at a friend's birthday party, she received a card with the words "Chocolate Cake, Vanilla Cake..." and when you opened it up you saw this picture of a half naked man saying "BEEFCAKE!" and I thought it would tie nicely in a strange one-shot. Yay for that, I guess.
Also, I changed up my writing style, because I can! Actually, I wanted to try something a little different, and I think this style might appeal to more people, maybe? Anyway, enough with the ramblings. Kick back, and enjoy a nice, healthy slice of insanity and some of Boyd's Beefcake.
Disclaimer: I own Fire Emblem. Just kidding.
.:Boyd's Beefcake:.
It was Christmas time again, and Ike found himself sitting at a desk, sipping at a mug of cider. In front of him, much to his great displeasure, was a great stack of war formations and strategies courtesy of Soren. Bored and hungry, the great General realized that Mist must be missing in action from her routine kitchen duties. It was late evening, and the man was hungry, dammit!
Scowling down and the wrinkly pile of papers, Ike decided that planning war strategies could wait. Convincing himself that he just needed to "take a walk and stretch his legs", he slipped out of his tent and was on a mission to find some food.
His boots crunched on the snow-covered ground as he shuffled past stragglers wandering aimlessly around camp.
"Oi! Ike!" he heard Gatrie roar from the make-shift saloon tent. "Come join me an' Largo for a cup o' ale!" Incredibly wasted and completely disoriented, the chunky knight slopped a half tankard of liquor down his linen shirt as he stumbled to usher his commander inside for a drink.
There was the sound of scuffling boots and Gatrie was knocked upside the head with an empty beer mug.
"No!" Shinon bellowed, equally wasted. "Don't c'mere, you whelp! Find your own bar and let me drink in peace!"
"But I wanna drink with Ike!" bawled Gatrie.
"No!" repeated the red-haired sniper. "The little pup can't handle his alcohol. You'll just be wasting your money." He belched and threw out his mug to the bartender, who promptly refilled it. "B'side, you're wasted! And a wasted commander is a bad example! Commanders can't be..." Shinon struggled to find the right word. "Wasted."
"What's a cup o' ale between ol' friends at Christmas time?" protested Gatrie, now trying hard not to slur his words.
"Where's Boyd?" drawled Shinon, looking around, now completely unaware that his commander was watching them with a slightly bewildered expression.
"That lug?" said Gatrie, raising his mug. "He's off having a bit o' fun with Mist."
Ike felt his ears turn red, and he desperately tried to tune out the rest of the conversation. But to no avail.
"Oh, so that's what all that ruckus was?" the mug clunked against the counter as Shinon wiped his mouth. "Damn, he sure got her going...all that whimpering and moaning stuff..."
"I wish I had a lady friend to do that to..." lamented Gatrie."Even baby Boyd has got himself a gal..." Looking thoroughly depressed, he took a hearty swig of his ale, and glared at the bottom of the glass.
"To friends!" shouted Largo suddenly, who, up until that point, had been extremely quiet. Then, raising his tankard, he steadily drained it, and proceeded to pass out on the counter. The bartender jumped, taken aback, and then resumed polishing the mugs nonchalantly. Ike saw Janaff's small form slumped against the counter, too, with a large, empty glass in his hands.
"Happy Birthday, Jesus," Janaff hooted sleepily from the counter, feebly lifting his empty glass.
"Happy Birthday!" shouted Shinon and Gatrie, and clinked glasses. Ike shook his head, disturbed, and trudged off to find Mist, whom he really hoped was not getting down and dirty with Boyd. Grumbling to himself, he didn't get very far before he was stopped by yet another straggler.
"Oh," a blonde, self-proclaimed first-class Sage called. "If it isn't our darling Commander!"
"Calill."
She smiled broadly and stowed her Elfire tome in her bag. "And what is our young General doing out alone on a day like this? It's not quite normal to be out and about on Christmas this late! Where is your holiday cheer?"
"I'm searching for Mist," Ike explained humorlessly. "I'm hungry."
Calill's grin, if humanly possible, had widened. "Oh...well, don't be too disappointed, if you don't find some food in the kitchens. There are plenty of those make-shift bars; they're bound to have some sort of stuff. Where's Largo, by the way?"
"In one of those make-shift bars," replied Ike. "He passed out, I think."
"Hmm, he never had too much of a stomach for his alcohol," the blonde mage said thoughtfully. "I'd better go find him. As I said earlier..." the coy, wicked smile came back to her lips. "Don't be so disappointed if you don't find any food..."
Then, she strolled past the baffled General and out of sight.
oOoOoOoOoOo
A few moments later, the esteemed General finally had reached the kitchen.
Outside the kitchen, a relatively small crowd was gathered, pressed in a hushed silence against the entrance, listening intently to whatever was going on inside. Ike's expression darkened and he shoved his way to the front of the line and pressed his ear against the flap.
"Oh, Boyd!" Ike heard Mist gasp, breathless. "Slow down! You're going too fast!"
There was a loud scraping noise from inside the tent, and Boyd groaned. "Sorry," the green-haired mercenary grunted. Then, the shuffling started again, closer to the flap of the tent. The crowd listened in bated breath, and Ike felt violated.
"Can you--?" began Boyd.
"Not yet. Boyd!" she whimpered. "Wait for me."
"I can't keep it up forever!" the warrior grunted. "How's this?"
"No," instructed Mist. "Move it over a little bit..."
"I don't think I can move it any more," replied Boyd, panting. "It won't fit!"
"Come on," gasped the cleric. "You've got to push it in there somehow!"
Boyd groaned, and Ike saw one soldier drool in delight from the corner of his eye. This was sick! thought Ike. And he was going to stand up and end all this nastiness right now! He would barge in there and beat Boyd up into a pulp for seducing his sister! Taking a deep breath and tossing his cape importantly behind him, he reached to throw open the flap of the tent that would reveal their naughty escapade.
But wait! Ike's hand froze centimeters from the fabric. Surely they weren't...naked? He wasn't sure if he could stomach the sight of a naked Boyd and a naked Mist. That would be wrong!
"Yes! Yes, yes, yes!" he heard Mist moan in ecstasy a brief moment later. "That's the spot! Exactly right!"
The shuffling ceased for a moment, only to be disrupted by a collective sigh.
"Well, then, now that we've done that, shall we..?" asked Boyd seductively. There was a clattering sound that Ike could only identify with numerous pots and pans, though he wasn't quite sure what pots and pans had to do with sex. Perhaps they were into kinkiness?
Mist gave a squeak of delight. "Oh! It's so meaty!"
Ike raised his brows. Surely the previous noises weren't sexual, if Mist was only now discovering that his friend was...well, 'meaty'? Ike shook his head hard to clear it of such lewd thoughts. The whole situation was absolutely disgusting!
"I can't wait to sink my teeth into that," sighed Mist.
"I know," Boyd replied, obviously satisfied. "Want to taste it?"
"NO, MIST! DON'T DO IT!"
At that moment, Ike burst into the kitchen, covering his eyes with his hands. "I can't listen to all that anymore! Don't taste it, whatever you do!"
"Taste what?" Mist and Boyd asked in unison, completely baffled.
"Don't play dumb!" insisted Ike. "I mean it! Don't taste his...his...you know..."
"What, the meat sauce?" suggested a thoroughly bewildered Mist.
"Meat sauce?!" cried Ike, now completely disgusted. "Dear Ashera, that's sick! Can't you come up with a better name for the male gamete?"
"Um...Ike?" said Boyd. "Get your mind out of the gutter. We're not naked. Open your eyes and see for yourself."
Ike did so very reluctantly, and was amazed to see two fully clothed and confused mercenaries peering oddly at him. Even the pots and pans were still on the tables! Ike didn't quite understand. Didn't he just hear them practice making babies?
"What kind of a joke is this?" asked Ike suspiciously. "It's not very funny."
"Ike, I can't believe you!" cried Mist, a look of sheer disgust on her face. "Boyd was just nice enough to help me move some of the tables around, because I couldn't move them by myself! And you barge in here and yell at us because you think we're having sex!"
"I did not!"
"Did, too! You're such a pervert!"
"Alright, fine, I did! But I'm not a pervert, I was just being a good big brother and concerned that you weren't engaging in sexual activities prematurely!" defended Ike. The very embarrassed General only then noticed the change in decor. Several tables had been wedged very tightly together to the far corner to give more work space to the cooks. The heavy boxes of food were stacked neatly underneath the tables.
The crowd outside listened intently. This could possibly be more interesting than the supposed baby-making!
"But what about this 'meat sauce, then?" asked Ike suspiciously. "That doesn't mean...?"
"No!" shouted Mist. Boyd, meanwhile, backed slowly into the corner of the tent, trying and failing to be as inconspicuous as possible. "The meat sauce was for the beefcake recipe he was teaching me how to make!"
"Beefcake?"
"Yeah, like a beef pie, you doofus! Only he calls it beefcake!"
"Oh. So you two didn't..?" began Ike, now feeling extremely stupid.
"No!" said Boyd loudly from the safety of his corner. Looking alarmed at his sudden outburst, he quailed under the irritated look his Commander gave him.
"Ike, what don't you understand?" sighed Mist, exasperated. "We didn't do anything. Can't you just believe us?"
Ike rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine, I won't inconvenience you two any longer, so you can get on back to making that...meat sauce, and, um, that beefcake." Making his way as heroically as a thoroughly embarrassed war-hero could towards the exit, he paused. "So...uh, I better not hear any more weird moaning and grunting noises, okay? Yeah, thanks."
And with that, our noble hero Ike departed in search of a decent bar to drown the terrible experience in. The rest of the eavesdropping soldiers departed in search of friends to share the story with.
oOoOoOoOo
Meanwhile, in the tent, Boyd and Mist sat in awkward silence, listening to the meat sauce simmer.
"Well," said Mist, sitting on the table beside the green-haired axe-man. "This is awkward."
"I can't believe your brother thought we were...you know." Boyd blushed, and focused his attention on the opposite corner of the tent.
Mist shrugged. "Well, it's not like we haven't made it to second base before."
"I thought he was going to castrate me, the look he was giving me."
"Nah," replied Mist calmly. "We need you in all your manliness out on the battlefield to mash up all those bad guys."
The warrior nodded, and they lapsed into another awkward silence.
"Hey, Mist?" said Boyd suddenly.
"Yeah?"
"Do you want some beefcake?"
THE END
Author's Note: Love it? Hate it? Review, free of pain, my dear lads and lassies, and make me a very happy camper. Also, I know that Christmas was a while ago, but this story was intentionally supposed to be out on Christmas day...I was just lazy, and didn't get it done until today. Haha...whoops... And feel free to assume whatever you want with the ending... ;-)
Love,
Ridell