Originally written for the Strifehart Kink Meme (this was one of my favorites, too).
Prompt: Leon/Cloud/Squall. 2 lions fight over our dear chocobo-head.
It is something of a weird treat, really, watching Squall battle his own Manikin. The young man is usually so very stoical, with the personality of a rock, and there are very few things that can ruffle his feathers. His doppelgangers, though, are apparently one of those things, and it shows each time Squall takes it upon himself to clash with each mirror image of his.
On most part, Squall seems angry, as though the very idea that another version of himself residing in the same place – using the same moves – is an insult to his entire existence. He is so easily agitated by how well these imitations – these "Transient Lions" – can keep imitating his moves, using them with such skill. He seems even more pissed when he defeats them too easily as well.
This time, he fights one of the strongest pieces he has ever come across. As always, Cloud watches on, silently reading the younger man's moves in both of them, seeking to understand their individual motivations. But they are so much the same, the original and his copy: the burning emotions in their eyes, the graceful execution of their attacks, even the burning resolve to simply survive this battle. They really seem opposite sides of a mirror, and perhaps that is why they take so long to conclude this.
Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, he finds this particular Transient Lion in front of him. The Manikin is breathing heavily, a sure sign that it – or was that 'he'? Did Battle Pieces have genders as well? – is wearing out. Squall, the real Squall, would win this one – that much is obvious even to this poor shadow of his self. It is hard to feel threatened by the weakened Manikin, and Cloud does little to defend himself against any rash attack the pink imitation may send his way. So he does not notice right away, does not have the time to fight off the one attack he wasn't expecting.
A crystal-like hand grabs Cloud, fisting tightly in his shirt, and tugs him forward. As they collide, Cloud goes into shock as a tongue invades his mouth through parted lips, roaming around and probing clumsily. There is a garbled moan of his name on the Manikin's lips, a distorted voice as the only reminder that this isn't really Squall kissing him so passionately while reaching down his pants.
The moment is interrupted by an enraged roar from behind, and with a blinding flash of blue fire Lionheart cleaves the Manikin into three even pieces. The doppelganger fades away, but the look on its – his – face is, without a doubt, pleased as pie. The blond barely hears a garbled "worth it…" before the pink shadow disappears completely.
And then there is only Squall Leonhart, still holding the shining blue gunblade, burning a brilliant shade of red and looking ready to murder anything that so much as looks at him funny. Cloud comes out of his shock, licking his lips for any final trace of that strange taste that he can't really judge at the moment.
"… Squall," he finally asks carefully, "is there something you'd like to tell me?"
"… No," Squall replies. His tone is as cold as what is considered normal for the brunet, but he does not look at the other fighter, and the flush on his face does not fade for a very long time.