Disclaimer: I don't own any characters. The game is mine. Steal it and die.
Warnings: shonnen-ai, alcoholism. Written in about 20 minutes by a 17-year-old, so don't kill me. Any comments about my style or about whether you like the story are appreciated. Any comments about how the pairing sucks because of an ignorant reason shall be laughed at. Hahaha.
Pairing: I'm not telling right now.
I love it when he's drunk. It's the only time he's like this, whispering things to me, holding me, calling me his with a possessiveness only an obsessive could muster, stroking my face, actually welcoming me into his room. He reeks of alcohol, but I don't mind as he pulls away from the kiss. I giggle. He's never this loving when he's awake. Ever.
You'd think that with his personality he'd be angry or violent, but he's not. He's a cuddly bear that may be a little perverted, but still gentle. Of course, I'll never let him do it… all the way, you know? It just wouldn't work out in the end.
His hands roam my sides, and I sit up. He can make me so… argh! I wish he was like this all the time. Not that arrogant prick he pulls up on his everyday face. I kiss him, gently, and he knows it's time for me to go. Whining, he kisses me deeper, wanting me more and more. I can't help it. Eventually, he'll figure out why he's been having these weird "dreams" (as he tells Fujin and Raijin) on nights he comes home blind-drunk.
I remember the first time we met. I was on my home from the SeeD party years ago that he was supposed to have made and he climbed through the window, talking about people he'd like to "get his hands down their pants". I was so pumped to kick his ass and I grinned, knowing he didn't have a chance. I prepared for a Boo-yah when he fell straight into my arms and nuzzled my neck.
Oh, yeah, that took me by surprise. I stood in shock until he got enough presence of mind to kiss me, not a gentle kiss, but a dominant, ass-grabbing kiss. So I kissed him back. Now I wait for him every night.
I wave goodbye, and he holds up a game. Some sort of sex-game that's a combination of strip poker and dice. It's a board game. He wants me to play, but I can't tonight. Squall's got a big mission for me tomorrow, and Seifer still hasn't become a SeeD, and it'd look bad for both of us if… he's doing that lip thing again. I can't resist that, and I sit back down. He grins, and places the board in front of us. I roll the dice. /Strip- one piece./
He grins, watching me hungrily as I take off my shoes. He's disappointed, but I place them neatly by the door. Just because he's half-naked doesn't mean I am.
He rolls the die, and can't count them and so he demands I move them for him. I do, and he reads it. /Touch-1./ He grins and I quickly read the rules. Touch one is somebody else. Touch two is yourself.
What the fuck kind of game is this anyway?
I back up as he grabs my arm, slowly tracing the muscles and flesh. It turns me on, the way he just… touches, admires, whatever and he knows it. He sits back down, wobbling though he hardly left the floor. I move.
/Strip/. Again. I pull of my socks.
He rolls. /sexy phrase./ Thinking, he starts laughing. I blink, and he sits up, falls down, and laughs some more. Hey, I said he was drunk.
"I'd like to see your hotdog sometime," he tells me, and I flush. He knows me so well.
I roll again, and this time I've got touch, but he moves it and his eyes narrow. "Strip," he stated, and I know I won't argue, not when he's drunk and he thinks this is all a fantasy. It keeps him from asking questions.
I slowly take off my shirt, and I leave it by my shoes. His eyes are eating me up now, and he moves his- without rolling- piece to the touch square. He suddenly tackles me and he's trailing down my shirt and into my pants.
Which isn't the first time, but it is the first he's manage to pin my arms down as well so I can't fight him.
"Seifer," I whisper to him. "We can't…I've got a mission tomorrow, and you're drunk-ah…" I know my face is flushed, and I know my back is arched. Hell yes, I'm enjoying this, but I've got morals, too, and messing with drunken people is not one of them at all.
"Shh, Zell. I'm touching." He strokes me up and down and Hyne, I love it, but I can't. Not tonight. I kiss him and I get up, and he whines. I take my things and sprint down the hall. I can't look back at him, because I'll know I'll stay. Maybe after this mission I'll confess.
It's been years now, and I know I'll not see him again. It'd be nice, so I could tell him those dreams weren't really dreams, but you know, he's probably happy with his posse, fishing or something like that. I just wish that one day he'd come back crawling through this window and we'd pick up where we left off. 'Cause I got really nobody.
Silly, silly me.
I hate it when he makes me cry.