~ Chapter Ten - Wishing Doesn't Make It So ~

I studied the woman sat in front of me in silence. I never lost a game at silence, and I had all the time in the world. Next to me, I could sense Quistis getting more restless, but she had managed to keep her cool.

The brains behind the Anti-SeeD Liberation Front, Laura Valdeen, looked rather underwhelming, considering she'd spearheaded a major operation against SeeD and had come dangerously close to succeeding. Knees held together tightly, her lips pursed in a disapproving line, she looked more like a put upon teacher than a criminal cuffed to a chair. The only telltale sign that something was off about her was the intense stare of those brown eyes. She hated me, hated everything SeeD stood for.

"Execution behind closed doors," she said suddenly, quietly.

I raised an eyebrow, and pushed away from the wall to walk closer.

"Isn't that what you do?"

I pulled up a chair and met her gaze. "Not usually," I deadpanned. "I do most of my killing on the field."

"Squall," Quistis reprimanded.

"I may be a mercenary—"

"A killer for hire!" the woman spat.

"A killer," I conceded, "but it's not my goal to destroy and manipulate. In your efforts to acquire the necessary materials for your unsanctioned base and research, you have ordered armed robberies, kidnappings and experimentation on humans, resulting in the death of seven Esthar nationals, thirteen Galbadian nationals and three SeeDs. I won't start into any of the other collateral damage."

Valdeen smiled sickly, her eyes wide. "You think you're the leader of some sacred cause? That you're better than me?" she said, her voice tight with hatred. "I should have ordered you dead the moment my men captured you."

"Why didn't you?"

"My miscalculation," the woman replied. "I thought it'd be more fun to break you. Take away all that you are, discredit you, humiliate you. So the world could finally see you for who you really are!"

"We have no secret agenda," I told her.

"You are everywhere! You're so deeply embedded in the world's politics, the nations are paralyzed and can't act without your go-ahead! There can be no true freedom as long as SeeD supersedes all laws and morals. You are freaks of nature, playing with the forces of Hyne!" Her lips curled into a sneer as she continued. "Hyne would have rotted all your brains in the end anyway. I was merely speeding up the process."

"You sanctioned the use of a GF yourself."

"A means to an end," Valdeen said, jutting her chin high. "Your end."

I sighed and faced Quistis. "We can extradite her to Esthar."

"They'll go soft on her," Quistis pointed out. "They'll lock her up, but they might also try to rehabilitate her."

"We've got tabs on her now," I said with a shrug. I looked at Valdeen. "She won't survive a second run-in with me."

Getting up from the chair, I walked towards the door and gestured at the four guards to move the prisoner to her transport.

"I know what you really are, Leonhart!" Valdeen screamed, flinching away from the SeeDs converging on her. "I've seen the video feeds! You're the kind of man who can slit the throat of a frightened boy. You command terrible beasts with a single thought!"

She coughed against the choke hold of one of the SeeDs, but pulled free again. "What if I had let Lethe pull more from you? Your language, your words? Your knowledge? You would've become the beast yourself, Leonhart. Lusting after murder, domination, after that filthy Knight of yours! You would unleash that monster onto the world—"

When one of the guards knocked her out with a tranquilizer, I let go of the breath I'd been holding. I looked around me, my pulse quickened, but no one seemed to have attached any meaning to her angry shouts.

"She must've seen the press conference," Quistis said, coming up next to me. "She's crazy."

I nodded, and turned to walk out of the room. "Let's get back to Balamb."

"It's hard to believe she's the daughter of the Trabian Minister of Military," Quistis said with a shake of the head. "We'll have to investigate where she got the funding for her operation. Hopefully it wasn't her father. We don't need those kind of complications right now."

"Galbadia won't be glad to hear you're handing her over to Esthar," Quistis continued when I didn't interject with my own opinions. "They feel they've suffered the most—"

"Put it in your official report if you don't like my decision, Quistis," I said brusquely. "I'm done here."

"The ASLF won't be the last hate group that targets SeeDs," she warned.

"They can consider this a warning. They won't win. Next time, they won't live."

Quistis cast me an assessing look as we walked out of the small hotel where Valdeen had been hiding out. "How about you take the evening off," she said, her voice gentle. "I'll type up the report, contact Esthar, and all that. I'll make sure you don't have to see Valdeen until she's shipped off to Esthar."

I bit back a harsh reply and sighed. "...Thanks."

"You're welcome," Quistis said, squeezing my arm. "I know you're having a hard time, but you'll get through it."

I didn't have it in me to make up some reassuring lie, so I said nothing. The mission hadn't gone as I'd hoped. Valdeen's hide-out had been embarrassingly obvious, and her six bodyguards had been dropped within five minutes. I didn't want quick and clean, I wanted to let loose.

Having achieved none of the closure or distraction I'd hoped for, I patted my pocket for my cell phone. I would take Zell up on his offer to continue our hand-to-hand training sessions. Perhaps then I'd be able to empty my thoughts.

"Look, we can do this some other time if you want."

Releasing a sigh, I aborted the series of high kicks and turned Zell's way. I had nothing to say in my defense—my thoughts hadn't exactly been on the execution of the new routine.

"It's obvious your heart's not in it," Zell continued, smiling that cautiously reassuring smile everyone had been facing me with lately. "We can do something else."

I shook my head, taking up position at the edge of the training mat. "Talk me through it again. I'll keep up."

"...Sure. I don't have to tell you focus is key here," Zell said with a small frown. "I don't want to have to explain to the Doc why you got injured."

"Zell."

"Okay, let's try something else," the man relented. Joining me on the mat, he raised his hands and planted his feet apart. "Something more engaging."

Moving opposite of Zell, I mimicked his stance, ready to try anything that might distract me. He studied me closely, but he didn't comment on my mood any further. He had his suspicions, no doubt thinking I was grieving over Rinoa's departure like everyone else. It was easier to let everyone assume she'd been the one to end things.

"Let's go through some wrestling moves," he suggested, closing in on me. "Use your speed."

He feigned a move to the right, after which he swiped his leg out and hooked it behind my knee. In no time I found myself flat on my back, coiled up in a headlock.

"You're not even trying," he said from behind me, unimpressed.

Pride kicking in, I called our previous session to mind and twisted in Zell's hold the way he had taught me. I drove my elbow back harshly, causing him to let go and roll away. I pursued and kicked at his legs, preventing him from getting back to his feet. The next few minutes were spent grappling and rolling over the mat, my every move and strategy rendered fruitless, but not once did Zell counter me or put me in a game-ending lock.

He was holding back, playing at the Instructor instead of a true sparring partner. In no mood for friendly consideration, I abandoned the set rules and planted my knee into his solar plexus.

"Fight me."

Gasping for breath, Zell bit off a curse and pinned my legs to his. I bucked violently and jerked away, wrenching my shoulder in the process. I tackled again, landing Zell face down on the mat. Putting all my weight on him, I squeezed my arm around his neck.

He grunted and signaled his submission by tapping the mat. I narrowed my eyes. Seifer would never have admitted defeat, both of us sooner inclined to pass out than to quit.

"...Squall," Zell sputtered, his face reddening.

My blood was pumping fast, my throat tight with disappointment. The sudden tilt of the ceiling and the mat caught me off guard. I was unable to counter the burst of strength, my eyes snapping shut in pain as a knee impacted with my lower back and I was flipped over.

Pressing his forearm down against my throat, Zell looked down at me. His lips were a tight line, his nostrils flared with measured breaths.

"About done?" he bit out when I stilled against the mat. Slowly he moved away.

I sat up gingerly and tried to swallow away the lump that burned at the back of my throat.

"Care to tell me what that was about?" he said, extending a hand. The brief flash of anger was already gone from his expression—quick to anger, quick to forgive.

Taking his hand, I let out a tremulous breath and stood to my feet.

"If it's a beating you wanted, you could've asked Sei—"

"I needed to stop thinking," I interrupted the far too astute observation.

Zell snorted and slapped a hand to my shoulder. "Maybe baiting people to knock you out isn't the best way to go about that, man."

When I didn't reply, he shook his head. "Apology accepted," he said with an eye roll. "Let's go find Irvine. I bet he's got some interesting ideas on how to stop you from thinking."

"I'm not in the mood for alcohol," I lied. I wouldn't have minded a drink, but I'd already burdened Irvine enough with my problems. Any more hints, and the man would soon figure out more than I wanted him to.

"That's only one of his methods," Zell said with a grin. "Plenty of fish in the sea, man. We could be your wingmen. Irvine could give you some pointers on how to chat up girls."

Sending him a glare, I moved back. "You're an idiot."

"That hurt," the man mocked, following me out of the training hall. "Nothing wrong with getting back on the horse, if you ask me. You ain't bad on the eyes. All you need are some good pick up lines."

"Stop trying to help," I muttered. For a morbidly curious moment, I wondered how Zell would react if I told him my interest lay elsewhere. Any tips on how to seduce Almasy?

"He's at Selphie's," Zell said with a smile, shoving his phone in front of me with a text on the display. "Told him you need some distraction."

For an absurd second, I thought he was talking about Seifer. Pulse spiking, I inwardly cursed my impossible infatuation. "I don't have time for any more distractions," I lied again, heading for the elevators. "I have to write up a report, deadline's tonight."

"What mission?"

"Follow-up on the ASLF mission. We captured the leader."

Frowning, Zell halted the elevator and filed in first. "I thought you and Seifer offed them all. How did someone get away from that base?"

"Bad leaders rarely like the frontlines," I said with a shrug. "She was never on site to start with."

"She?" Zell asked with a frown. "A sorceress?"

"Not a sorceress," I reassured, glancing at the blond.

Zell laughed tightly. "Evil women plotting against SeeDs. Gotta ask, Squall."

Getting off at my floor, I nodded my goodbye at the man. "It was just a routine detainment."

"Isn't the SeeD Commander a bit overkill for a routine detainment?" Zell said with an eye roll.

"It was personal," I prevaricated. I'd been itching for a fight all day, but neither Valdeen nor Zell had managed to satisfy my need.

Letting out a low whistle, Zell gave me the SeeD salute as the elevator doors closed. "Remind me to never cross you, Commander. See you at Irvine's later—"

His enthusiastic words cut off, I sighed and walked towards my new quarters. The double room on the third floor had been emptied out, the multitude of Rinoa's belongings already shipped off to Deling City. My own things had fit into a few boxes, and had been moved to a single officer's room on the fifth floor.

Entering the code into the keypad to open the door, I stepped inside and flicked on the light switch. My new room was much like my old cadet room had been: sparse, and not a single feminine touch in sight. The bathroom was most evident of that. As I walked in and undressed for a shower, the absence of Rinoa's toiletries still caught me off guard. She had been messy, littering obscure little jars, bottles and perfumes all over the place, but I hadn't minded much. We'd shared a quiet harmony.

Now she couldn't bear to even look at me anymore. After her departure, I'd been burdened with doubt. Perhaps she'd been right. Perhaps I did have commitment issues, making up excuses along the way. But after a few days had passed, any regret was yet to manifest. She was gone, and it left me mostly unaffected.

Huffing at myself, I stepped into the shower and let my thoughts wander as I lathered up. I would never have imagined myself to be so fickle. Before the amnesia, I had believed Rinoa was the one I'd be with indefinitely. It was startling how a different light, a different point of view, could upend one's world. After days of pondering, I finally understood myself.

Everything I hadn't been able to get from Rinoa, I had been forced to seek out in battle. She never did understand the appeal of the mercenary life—that razor thin edge of danger that made life worthwhile.

With Rinoa, I had settled and compromised. Now I wanted everything. I wanted a challenge instead of peaceful harmony. I wanted a partner that was a true equal, someone who shared my insatiable hunger for adrenaline and danger. I wanted my every baser urge relieved—not with kind consideration, but with lust and dominance.

I wanted Seifer.

My mind had been replaying the sensations of his touch far too often—the wet slide of his lips, the rough skin of his palms, the days-old stubble that had scraped my skin. I should've given in then and there, in that motel room. I should've pulled him back down on the couch with me after Quistis' ill-timed interruption.

The more I dwelled on those brief encounters, the more heated they became with each recollection. I knew nothing of sex with a man, but it could hardly be as straightforward as with a woman. It would probably hurt, and I had no delusions about who would take on the submissive role.

I shuddered, turning up the heat of the water. What would he have done, if we hadn't stopped? I slipped my hands lower as I tried to remember all the sensations that together made up Seifer.

The rumble of his voice, a deep hum that vibrated from my neck to my face, my lips. His breath, sometimes minty, sometimes laced with alcohol, but always dizzying and hot. The slide of his short hair between my fingers, the slide of his skin against mine.

I stifled my voice as I grasped my erection, the hot flow of water exacerbating every little twitch and sensation. The carefully assembled details shattered and fell away, leaving only fevered imaginations. He was in here with me, pushing me up against the tiled wall. Our lips meshed wildly, his hands all over me, on me.

Unable to hold back all moans as I worked myself, I craned my head back, an invite to be marked and taken. My imagination filled in the blanks as he turned me around, spread my legs and started to slowly but roughly enter me. He would be large, thick, perfect. There was no pain in this fantasy, only the pleasure of my hands.

I sped up, the soap frothing around my squeezing hand. I moaned, imagining the seductive voice he'd used with me so often, low and hot enough to make my knees buckle. I climaxed with a last jerk of my hips, and watched as my release washed away with the water.

I let out a shuddering breath, and rested my forehead against the cooler tiles. My breaths slowed gradually, mingling in with the steam in the shower cabin.

After the indulgence always came the return of reality. The real Seifer would never lay his hands on me again, that much had been made clear to me. The only feelings he held for me now were distrust and loathing. I squeezed my eyes shut at the memory of that confrontation. The humiliation at having been rejected so totally was still fresh.

He hadn't come to find me after that, not for a spar or anything else. He still avoided me, turning away his gaze when our paths crossed. I wasn't even sure whether I had made things worse, or whether Seifer had even understood my true meaning.

I'd never felt like such a fool.

Too terrified of a straightforward approach, I had resorted to veiled words and implied meanings. Perhaps I should've just asked if the blond was up for a fuck. Seifer had never been one for subtlety anyway, and it would've been the quickest end to my misery either way.

Turning off the water flow, I threw open the glass shower door and yanked a towel off its rack. I had lost all composure, all perspective.

I vowed to start taking cold showers.

"Fuck!" I cursed as I stormed into my quarters, wishing I had an actual door to slam instead of this fucking automated crap. Kicking my desk chair to the wall, I drew in a deep breath that failed to calm me.

As if to mock my anger, the standard issue clock mounted on the wall ticked away silently, its only accompaniment the muted sounds of SeeDs returning to their dorms for the night. Clenching my fists tightly, I paced back and forth along the small path my room allowed. Without any windows to let in any light or fresh air, my quarters felt exactly like the containment cell it could be repurposed into with the push of a button. A prisoner in my own home, but it was either seethe in here or beat someone up out there.

Everything was fucked up. In fact, I hadn't had a single good day ever since Lethe had dumped my worthless past back into my head. Everyone and everything pissed me off. Nothing could rid me of this fucking anger.

My latest decision to go to the gym and burn off any excess frustration had backfired spectacularly. I hadn't even made it to my favored bench press spot, when my eyes had followed the glances of all the other SeeDs towards the adjacent training hall. The high ceilinged space was large, outfitted with mats, melee weapons and wooden target dummies—a place I'd been avoiding in order not to draw any attention to me and invite ill-meaning challengers. But today more notable than muscle heads itching for a fight had been the Commander locking limbs with Dincht. The two had been wrestling around like a couple in heat, grunting and grappling to get out on top.

The sight had brought me dangerously close to starting a scene; one that involved Leonhart, my fists and a lot of cursing. More so than seeing the brunet with another sparring partner, it had been that look in his eyes—that fire I had believed to be mine exclusively. Yet there he'd been, doling it out to Dincht of all undeserving pricks.

How the fuck was it that Leonhart got to move on, and I didn't? How dare he come to my quarters, knock on my door and request a fucking spar, when he could just as easily roll around on the mats with a second-rate fighter.

I forced my breathing into an even rhythm, tried to unclench my white-knuckled fists. I couldn't call Rai or Fuu. They'd see through me in a heartbeat. I needed something else, someone else, someone who couldn't be more different from Leonhart had they tried.

A mindless fuck was exactly what I needed. So far it had been the only thing to successfully distract me, however briefly the reprieve lasted.

Walking up to the nightstand, I took my cell phone and went through my contact list. Most of the easier fucks in there were not in town, but I could try my luck with some of the more promiscuous girls in Garden. Either that, or Sandra, my ever desperate last resort. I'd met her last summer and she hadn't turned me down yet, but I'd fucked her one too many times and it'd gotten boring fast. Today however I couldn't give two shits as to who I'd be pounding into the bedding.

Flopping down onto my bed, I sent out a few texts and waited for the first woman to respond. After twenty minutes of my patience dwindling rapidly I'd received exactly one crude letdown, two halfhearted versions of "I'm busy tonight" and one "how about tomorrow?" Desperate Sandra hadn't even replied—perhaps I'd spurned her one too many times.

I huffed and threw my phone back onto the nightstand. So much for fucking myself into oblivion. Folding my arms beneath my head, I scowled at the ceiling.

It seemed the universe wouldn't allow me a reprieve from Mr. Fucking Perfect. Ever since that weird non-confession of his, I'd been unable to stop thinking about the asshole. At first it had seemed he wanted me to absolve him. His talk of whether or not I hated him suggested Leonhart had a guilty conscience concerning the war, and that suited me just fine. The bastard was all kinds of naive if he thought we could just trust each other as we had before the war.

But none of that was the real problem. I should never have mentioned Rinoa. That's what had started the conversation down a more slippery slope. My own jealousy had burned hotly under the influence of alcohol, and maybe the beer had colored my interpretation of Leonhart's replies in ways he never intended, but I couldn't shake the feeling my instincts were right. They were rarely wrong when Leonhart was involved.

Maybe, just maybe, the man didn't regret our ... lapses of judgment. Maybe he wanted more from me than spars. The very thought had been hounding me, inciting disturbing fantasies during the days' more unguarded and boring moments.

I felt the urge to laugh in despair. Here I was, going to great lengths to forget about him, to erase the very memory of him with fights, sex, anything, but the fucking siren call wouldn't stop. It would've been funny to imagine the uptight brunet lusting after my cock if I hadn't been similarly afflicted.

I sneered in distaste. Could I bring myself to have sex with a man? My particularly engaging dreams as of late indicated that I could, if said man was Leonhart. That in itself pissed me off like nothing else. Not only had he abandoned and humiliated me during the war, lording over me as my superior afterwards, he'd now also managed to take my libido hostage.

When even screwing a D-cup beauty into the mattress couldn't live up to the memory of Leonhart's glare and scrawny ass, then I knew I had to do something. If I let this situation drag on, I'd be walking the halls with dangerous anger issues and permanent blue balls.

Contemplating how I could salvage the night in some way, an insane thought rose to mind. I swallowed thickly at the lack of conflict I felt over the unwise plan.

I could fuck Leonhart.

If my subconscious was hell-bent on experiencing what it was like to bed the SeeD Commander, then maybe making the brunet submit to me would finally rid me of the urge. If Leonhart's allure was all about power play, then I could reclaim my dominance over him with a good, rough fuck, and be done with it.

One night of making an exception to my women-only policy could be well worth the peace of mind. My pride wouldn't even have to take that much of a bruising, considering Leonhart had made the first move, practically inviting me into his bed. If the sex happened to suck, then that would play out to my benefit—no better cure to my affliction than an off-putting lay.

As I pushed up from the bed, my mind made up, the quickening of my pulse belied the cool calculation of my plan. Grabbing my coat, I gave in to the excitement. If I was to going to do this, I might as well get the most out of the experience. I would make Leonhart mine to toy with for the night, make him pay for every disservice he ever did me.

Stepping out into the hallway, I grinned and waved at the security camera mounted just outside my quarters. About to go fuck your Commander's brains out. Walking down the hall towards the elevator, a sense of depraved purpose put a spring in my step.

All kinds of rumors had been doing the rounds, and the break-up of the century was finally common knowledge. According to Garden's rumor mill, the Commander had relocated to the housing wing's fifth floor, my next destination. It did great things for my mood to know the man got booted out of his love nest and back down to earth with the rest of us.

Less amusing was how Garden's general female population now seemed to have declared Leonhart up for grabs. Not much sympathy had been wasted on Rinoa, the poor dolt. All the indecent gazes and speculating glances in Leonhart's direction irritated me to no fucking end. Yet another reason to spoil everyone's fun and stake my one-time claim. No woman would touch Garden's golden boy if they knew he'd bent over for Ultimecia's knight.

Getting off the elevator at the fifth floor, I looked down both ends of the hallway, making sure no one would witness my presence here. I preferred for this particular night-time prowl to go unnoticed, but the hall was deserted thanks to the late hour.

Towards the east hall there were sounds of a loud party going on behind closed doors, which told me Leonhart probably lived off to the far west. No officer would risk the Commander's wrath by disrupting his precious sleep.

Taking a right, I glanced at the name labels by the doors. Seeing the proof of all these assholes scoring promotions and living the dream on the officers floor made me want to rig the fire alarm and rain down on all their fancy suites. Everything looked a little less worn up here, all gleaming lights and polished floors.

Caught up in my ire, I almost walked by it. Taking a few steps back, I studied the unassuming door with the bland name label.

/S. Leonhart./

I snorted. Most doors to my left and right carried tokens of personalization—an ornament, a weapon geek poster, a far too conceited name plaque. Even if the door in front of me would've lacked a label, its mere blandness would've told me I'd found the right place. Only Leonhart would avoid the limelight like this. The bastard probably threatened the quartermaster not to add anything else.

Taking a deep breath, I ignored the way my stomach flipped at the thought of what I was about to do. The asshole wouldn't know what hit him.

Assuming a sneer appropriate to the situation, I forewent the doorbell and banged loudly on the door. I could almost see Leonhart stiffen to attention, glowering in the direction of the door. He probably wasn't used to people disturbing his precious me-time.

When the door slid open with a muted swish, revealing a frowning Leonhart, I moved to lean against the doorframe and blocked the entrance with my foot in case the man decided not to play.

My heart broke into a rapid tattoo as I studied the brunet. Some residual dampness clung to his brown locks, probably from an earlier shower, and he was dressed in a surprisingly ordinary pair of drawstring pants and a baggy t-shirt. The sight should lack all sex-appeal, but I found myself fascinated instead at having caught the brunet at his most private and intimate.

"Why are you here?" he asked, his brow crinkling.

I smirked. "I thought you said I could come by any time."

"You want to spar?"

Ah, the open confusion was endearing. I leaned in close, sampling the scent of soap that lingered on the air around him. "You lured me to our old spot under false pretenses, gave me those bedroom eyes, and you think I want a spar?"

His frown gave way to surprise, those grey-blue eyes narrowing in speculation.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Snapping from his daze, Leonhart cast a quick glance into the hallway and stepped aside upon finding it empty. Realizing in that moment I was miles removed from my comfort zone, I almost hesitated, but it wouldn't do to let the brunet realize his effect on me.

I sauntered into the unsurprisingly bare quarters and looked around with dismissive scorn. Taking off my trench coat, I threw it over the nearest chair, marking the space as mine.

"Why are you really here?"

I turned around and met Leonhart's carefully guarded gaze. Already the thrum of excitement coursed through me, to see the man so wary of me. I almost abandoned my plan in favor of a good old fashioned close-quarter's scuffle. Leaning back against the edge of the desk, I waved him over instead.

"Why don't you come over here and find out."

I chuckled when his eyes flashed a silver warning, the man showing no sign of giving in to my command. There was still a chance I had miscalculated, and that soon I would have to block his infamous right hook.

"Tuck away your GFs, Leonhart," I said with mock reassurance. "I won't bite... much."

I could practically see the wheels turning in that head of his. Will the sorceress's lapdog play or bite? Smiling a lewd grin, I leaned back on the desk with one hand, beckoning him with the other.

When Leonhart huffed and moved away from me, my temper rose dangerously. The stubborn bastard never did learn how to fucking capitulate, never willing to meet me halfway.

"If you're out to provoke me, you can leave—" The rest of his accusation was cut short as I tackled him against the wall, knocking the breath out of him.

"Shut. Up," I hissed hotly.

Taking advantage of his stunned acquiescence, I pinned him in an iron hold and pressed my lips against his. The feel of that lithe body against me instantly unraveled the tight ball of desire I'd been repressing ever since regaining my memory. I kissed him roughly, revealing more of my hunger than I had planned on.

When Leonhart finally regained his wits, he tugged his arms free from my hold, but the counter-attack never came. Instead he wound his arms around my neck and drew me closer. His mouth opened readily, his tongue encircling mine and causing my brain to grind to a halt.

I'd guessed right after all. He wanted this.

I pulled back and barked out a cruel laugh at the sight before me. The slightly out of breath look on Leonhart's face was priceless, those wet and frowning lips doing amazing things for my erection. To loom over him while he was this exposed was a powerful intoxicant.

"Do you lend out that ass to any prick who'll have you, or were you saving it just for me?" I sneered, needing a nasty glare from Leonhart to break the spell.

As expected, those grey-blue eyes narrowed in a scowl, but it only managed to fuel the heady desire that was settling in my groin. He didn't let go, his body inching closer. His gaze darted to my mouth expectantly, his breath ghosting my skin. The promiscuous bastard didn't seem like he'd complain even if I bent him over his desk right here, right now.

A tendril of panic wormed into my gut. I'd expected a reluctant response to my actions at best, not this naked lust. It was fast becoming clear that I wouldn't have to force any of his reactions, unlike when we'd been on the run. There was little punishment in his submission if he wanted it, leaving my plan effectively ruined.

Afraid to lose the edge I'd gained over him, I decided the quicker I got this over with, the better. Sending him a confident leer, I grasped his wrists and forced his arms up above him, against the wall, to keep his hands from straying. I needed to be the one in control.

Kicking his legs apart, I hitched Leonhart up against the wall with my thigh and held him in place with my right arm. I let out a groan as our groins pressed together as a result. Glancing down, I watched Leonhart's lips part at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed as he rolled his hips into me. The fabric of his pants did little to hide his erection. Horny fucking bastard.

Tightening the pinching hold I had on his wrists, I tried to keep the crippling pleasure from showing on my face. Perhaps I could still make this work if I stayed in charge of myself and the situation, reducing Leonhart to a writhing mess in the process. He'd never live it down.

Taking a deep breath through my nostrils, I met his every push with a rough grind. He was pulling at the hold I had on his hands now, a frustrated moan passing his lips. I managed a hoarse chuckle and tutted.

"Be a good boy now, Leonhart."

He cracked open heavy-lidded eyes and regarded me with a lustful gaze that shot straight to my cock. His chin dipped low, that pale face of his framed with dark bangs, the man looked absolutely sinful. There was nothing coy or phony about him.

Letting out a growl, I pressed my entire upper body up against his, our breaths mingling before he drew me back into another ravenous kiss. Needing more purchase, I let go of his wrists and thrust my hands down his pants to grasp his ass. He practically keened into the touch as he wrapped one arm around my neck instantly, his other hand roaming my back freely. As we lost ourselves to a primal rut, I could already feel the advent of my climax.

Fucking control yourself. You didn't come here to shoot your pants like a fresh cadet.

Breaking our heavy, open-mouthed kiss, I untangled our tongues and stepped back from the wall, trusting Leonhart to hold on. Before he could protest being carried about, I maneuvered us to the bed and threw him onto the mattress. After an inelegant bounce, he propped himself up onto his elbows and sent me a silent glare for the abuse, but he didn't attempt to move.

Taking position at the foot of the bed, one knee on the duvet, I pulled my t-shirt over my head and stared down at the man. His body was the picture of arousal, from the obvious tenting of his drawstring pants to the flush that suffused his skin—all of which was unfortunate for the already tenuous hold I had on myself.

"Turn around," I ordered roughly, my voice gruff with need as I tossed my shirt on the floor and started to unbutton my pants.

His glare became genuine, and he stayed stubbornly in place.

"Turn the fuck around," I repeated tersely. I needed release, and I couldn't very well do it while looking at Leonhart's face, his junk in full view.

Leonhart's eyes tightened and he cocked his head. "Make me."

Cursing, I bounded onto the bed and grabbed for his arms. He fought back the moment I was on him, twisting wildly and heaving deep breaths as he struggled. Our groins inevitably rubbed together as I straddled him and pressed down against his bucking motions. His wrists recaptured, he almost wrenched his shoulder trying to resist my pull on his body.

It had been over a year since I'd experienced the hidden strength in Leonhart's lean body—far too long. His violent resistance was a shock to the senses, his sweat and grunts incredibly arousing.

I laughed and leaned down to whisper in his ears, the same sensation that had elicited that shudder of his days earlier. "Turn. Around."

His eyes flashed dangerously, and I reeled back just in time to avoid the head butt that would've floored me. Breaking free of my hold, Leonhart threw me off and raised himself to his knees, his arms up in defense. But again, he didn't attempt to move off the bed. His eyes were all over my exposed chest, dropping lower to my groin.

Twisted fucker. Grinning lewdly, I slowly inched closer to him before forcing him to my chest. My right hand shot up to the back of his head, my fingers twining roughly in those long strands and locking him in place, giving my left hand free reign to explore his ass cheeks and lower back.

"You should really cut that hair. Too easy."

Even with his head angled awkwardly and his erection pressed against my thigh, Leonhart managed a snort. "What's next? Scratching and biting?"

"The night's young," I said with a crooked smile, before finally twisting him around and pushing him face down in the mattress. Pinning him down immediately with my own weight, a heated groan my reward, I laughed darkly. "You get off on this."

"And you don't?" he accused, demonstrating with a wriggle of his ass against my hard cock.

I drew in a slow, controlling breath, painfully aware of the aching throb in my groin. "It's always fun beating you into obedience."

Twisting his head enough to glance at me, his breathing labored, Leonhart didn't attempt to escape my hold. A slight moan escaped him when I rubbed my cock against his ass, but the mocking laugh I had intended came out sounding more like a groan. Any more delay, and I would fucking lose it.

Keeping my right hand buried in those thick, brown locks, I yanked down his pants with my free hand. The sight of his pale, perfectly rounded ass brought home the reality of what I was about to do. I swallowed, keeping my gaze strictly on the target zone. My initial plan to pretend his scrawny body was that of a woman proved impossible—no woman had such musculature, regardless of the androgynous flare of the brunet's hips.

His muscles twitching at my inaction, Leonhart misinterpreted my hesitation. "The night stand", he said, nodding in its direction.

"What, you got a whip in there? A big dildo?" I mocked, my heart in my throat.

"You'll need lube," he replied gruffly, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Irritated by the man's steadfastness, not a shred of doubt in his actions, I pulled open the nightstand's drawer and narrowed my eyes when I retrieved a used bottle of lubricant. "Been busy, Leonhart?" I said in distaste, turning the bottle in my hand. "Who would've known you're such a slut."

The man frowned beneath me, stilling the wanton keening of his ass.

"Tell me, how many pricks had a go at you before me?" Suddenly the assumption that the Commander had a virgin ass seemed foolish—no man who was new to gay sex would writhe so enthusiastically at the thought of taking it up the ass.

Leonhart didn't reply right away, his body poising for another fight. "Fuck me, or get off me, Almasy."

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Heart beating fast, I harshly twisted the fingers I had buried in his hair, angling his head back. My hand shook with anger. I was the one on top, the one with all the power, but somehow Leonhart seemed to be the only one who knew what the fuck was going on.I should never have fucking come here.

"Let go," Leonhart said evenly, and I registered with delay that the man had let his muscles go slack.

Taking in the pained grimace on his face, I took in a tremulous breath and uncurled the white-knuckled hold I had on his hair. The brunet craned his neck a few times to work out the kinks, before moving from under me and getting to his knees. When he turned around, his narrowed gaze pierced through me.

"What the fuck are we doing?"

Leonhart's frown gentled at my question. Getting up onto his knees, he moved close and placed his hands onto my shoulders. I watched as he slowly slid them down my arms and squeezed his fingers. Inching closer still, studying my reactions, he kissed me with a more contained passion than before. The ease with which he could touch me so openly was baffling.

"We don't have to fuck," he said, his husky voice sounding much as if we already had.

"Don't treat me like some fucking virgin," I growled, knocking his arms away and tackling him back down to the bed. I had no fucking clue anymore, no back-up plan, but I wouldn't let the brunet ridicule me. I wasn't some limp dick loser who needed coddling.

Brown locks splayed onto his pillow like a halo, Leonhart looked up at me with slightly parted lips. "Then quit the pretense," he whispered lowly, his hand moving to my groin. Holding my gaze, he let his fingers sneak past the hem of my pants, until he was slowly palming my cock through my boxers.

Groaning, I let my head hang as my thoughts hazed over with lust. His fingers quickly grew more daring, kneading my cock firmly until they finally slipped beneath my boxers. The feel of skin against skin flushed my erection to full hardness.

"Take it off," he said breathlessly, his words taking a few seconds to filter through to my pleasure-addled brain.

Not having the presence of mind anymore for calculated smirks or cocky retorts, I straightened from his touch and pushed down my pants and boxers in one move. Kicking them to the floor, I leaned back down over Leonhart, the glistening wetness to his lips too tempting to resist.

I didn't fucking care about anything anymore. I didn't care how he was matching his fingers' every twist and pull with the slick motions of his tongue around mine—it was fucking bliss. Played to the edge of my endurance, I was straining to support my own weight when I felt like buckling under all the pleasure.

When all motion stopped, I opened my eyes to look at the man beneath me. Leonhart was pulling down his own pants and underwear, his shirt riding up high to his armpits. Grateful for the lust that clouded all rational, impeding thought, I let my gaze travel the length of his body as he undressed.

Allowing myself to see Leonhart for the first time since I'd invaded the man's room, I studied that familiar face, the firm chest and abs, the tantalizing patch of dark curls that led my gaze downwards to an undeniably male sight. My pulse spiked, but my erection persisted.

Leonhart had stilled against the sheets in wait, his clothes thrown to the floor in a careless heap. He granted me another few seconds to come to terms with the removal of the last boundary between us, before he reached out and pulled me down against him. The hot, smooth slide of his cock against mine was indescribable.

I could only groan when he wrapped a well-trained thigh around my leg and pushed his hips up. I'd expected this to be off-putting, but instead it was...it was... My thoughts hitched in pleasure.

Somehow the bottle of lube had found its way into Leonhart's hand, and now he was coating my erection with a royal helping of the slippery substance. His moves were quick and not too concerned with precision, the clear jelly dripping down onto his own groin. Dropping the bottle from his hand, he grasped my ass and pressed us together again.

Letting out a gruff moan, I wound my arms around the brunet's body and met him thrust for thrust. Forgetting about the commander and the war, I fell headlong into the body of the nameless man I had felt instantly attracted to. The slippery friction of our cocks was fucking addictive, and there was something immensely sexy about feeling he was just as hard as me.

Twisting away from my lips, the brunet shuddered as his eyes rolled up in pleasure. When the man shocked beneath me in orgasm, I devoured every detail of his face, his hitched breathing, his muffled cry. The hot splash of his come against my cock and stomach caused a jolt of arousal to travel up my spine, and I slowed with great effort.

Mindless after his climax, Leonhart twitched one final time and breathed a hot kiss against the corner of my lips before falling limply to the bed. Curious, I glanced down between us, and raised an eyebrow at the rather... humble amount of come. Looking back at the brunet's placid features, I chuckled. The lube made much more sense now.

"Celibacy not agreeing with you, Leonhart?" I asked, grinning broadly. For days now, the man had probably been lost to self-gratification and fevered fantasies involving my cock up his ass. The thought of Leonhart stooping to such a lowly, human act as masturbation was both amusing and an incredible turn on. He must've been jerking off not long before I'd showed up.

Frowning, the man followed my poignant gaze down and grew very still.

"Have you also been playing with your ass? Or just the good, old—" I gestured out an enthusiastic handjob and laughed when the effect of his glare was ruined by the kiss bruised lips and the patchy beard burn along his right cheek and neck. Fuck, he was hot like this.

"Break time's over," I announced lowly, my cock twitching in need as I dipped back down for another tongue-twisting kiss, but Leonhart placed a staying hand against my chest and turned to lie on his stomach. Gathering the pillow and bunching it up with his arms, he rested his head and held out the lube to me.

"Enough foreplay," he ground out huskily, spreading his legs in invitation.

Managing a hoarse hum of agreement, I popped open the bottle's cap and pulled one pale ass cheek aside. This time I hesitated only long enough to realize that the very thing I had been avoiding was a massive turn-on if I let it be. Squeezing the clear gel straight onto his cleft without bothering to warm it in my hands, I smirked when Leonhart squirmed in offense.

"No going back now, Leonhart," I groaned, slicking myself up with one hand as I worked the lube around his anus with my free hand. It was fucking weird, and arousing all at once. The sight of his arching ass was something else, his balls tight and twitching between his legs. When I cupped them, smearing lube all over the sensitive skin, the uninhibited moan that tore from Leonhart's throat caused my cock to flush an angry red.

"Seifer," he intoned breathlessly.

Spurred on, I worked a single lubed finger into his entrance and committed the surreal sensations to memory. He was fucking hot inside, that tight ring of muscle clamping around me in a way that had my cock leaking precome. "Shit," I cursed, working the finger in and out, marveling as the simple action slowly unraveled the brunet.

Leonhart was arching his ass in time with my touch, his fingers digging harshly into the pillow beneath him. Beads of sweat were starting to form on his brow, his entire body wound tight when I added a second finger.

Growing impatient with the cumbersome preparations of anal sex, I applied one last coating of lube to my straining cock and threw the bottle aside. As I leaned down onto the brunet, the feeling of my cock slipping along the cleft of his ass was heaven.

"Sorry, Cupcake, time's up," I ground out in apology, before I angled my hips and pushed in.

He was tighter than I'd anticipated, almost painfully so, but nothing would stop me now. Leonhart seemed to mirror my sentiment as he arched his ass and bit into his pillow to stifle any errant noises. His face contorted in a mesmerizing mix of pain and bliss.

"Fuck," I cursed, slowly letting myself sink deeper as I felt Leonhart's ass stretch around me. A sheen of sweat broke out on my back and brow as I pushed in to the hilt with one last grunt.

Leonhart had managed to stay quiet throughout the intrusion, but now a strained sound escaped his lips as he gasped for breath.

I chuckled, the sound laced with my own exertion. "You wanted this," I growled, pulling out shallowly and spearing back in. The man shuddered and was unsuccessful at stifling his gasps with each repeated thrust. "Not my fault...you like your men well-hung."

"Let me up," the man muttered, his last gasp sounding suspiciously a lot like a moan.

"What?"

"...On our knees," he managed, pushing his ass further up.

I would've laughed at the brunet begging for a thorough pounding, but right now there was nothing I needed more myself. Cursing, I grasped his hips and pulled him up onto his knees with me.

"Head down," I ordered when he started to raise himself completely. I wanted to fuck him just like this—his ass up, his head and shoulders prostrated down against the bed. Adding incentive, I pulled his ass cheeks apart and plunged into him with one, deep thrust.

Leonhart let out a breathless moan, overall encouraging in tone, and let his shoulders sag back to the sheets. Resting his left cheek against the pillow, his lips and legs parted in honest desire, the brunet had never looked so attractive.

Speeding up, I lost myself to gratification, my grip on Leonhart's hips bruising. The slap of flesh against flesh harmonized perfectly with his wanton moans, his ass tight and wet and fucking perfect. When he started to clench around me, his cries increasingly climactic, I opened my eyes to see the brunet jerking himself off in time with my thrusts as he bit down onto his lower lip.

"Fuck," I groaned, the wave of my own orgasm about to crest. "I'm close." Pounding into him with increased fervor, I cursed hotly as Leonhart's ass suddenly clamped around me like a vice, the man's body tensing up as he came a second time. That was all the permission I needed to let go.

Grunting in exertion, I fucked Leonhart with none of the consideration and gentleness that limited my temperament with women. Leaning in, I pulled his back up to my chest and wove my fingers through his hair again to bare his neck to me. The sound of his languid moan was the last push I needed. As my orgasm shot into the brunet with twitching pulses, I sank my teeth into his skin and plunged into him a few last times.

"Fuck," I cursed, my dick throbbing as I pulled out of Leonhart. The man let out a soundless gasp and didn't protest when I dragged him down to the duvet with me.

Our skin sticky at every point of contact, I drew in ragged breaths and suppressed a delirious laugh. Hyne, that had been good. Dangerously good. No man had any business having such an enticing ass, least of all the deceivingly uptight commander.

Beside me, Leonhart stretched his body with a groan and wiped the sweaty bangs from his eyes. Whether out of economy of movement or laziness, he left the hand splayed across his forehead and closed his eyes. I chuckled. There would be no nagging from him about my own lethargy right after sex.

Propping myself up, I studied the man and tried to contain the returning unease. Even though the night hadn't turned out bad at all, it wasn't what I'd set out to do. Leonhart had a tendency to mess up my plans that way, but it was too late for regrets now anyway.

Unwilling to focus on all the possible ramifications just yet, I focused on the physical instead. That was always easy, and it was definitely easy to appreciate how sexy the man next to me was right now—well-fucked, his hair disheveled, his skin glistening with sweat, his thighs and ass wet with our combined come.

Cracking open an eye, perhaps sensing my gaze, he stirred from his post-coital drowsiness. I could see the moment he came back down to earth, realizing his whereabouts and company. With another, softer groan, he straightened and got out of the bed. If I was already sore from the vigorous friction, then Leonhart probably had it ten times worse.

"You're gonna feel that in the morning."

"In the morning?" Leonhart replied with a huff as he walked up to the bathroom, his gait slightly less graceful than what I was used to from him. I smirked when the man brought up a hand to his neck and massaged the bruised flesh there. I doubted the man had ever been so thoroughly fucked and marked before.

Flopping back to the bed when I heard the shower head turn on, I wondered whether this was the moment I should leave. I felt remarkably calm after the many days of sexual frustration and anger. Fucking Leonhart had been cathartic, but not in the way I'd expected.

With Leonhart it was always a power play, and at the same time... it wasn't. He'd had plenty of chances to really incapacitate me during our fight for dominance, but he hadn't seized them. He'd never darted off the bed, had never grabbed the lamp on his nightstand to hit me over the head with, or whatever else trick he could've used to escape me had he wanted to. And I might've been rough with the man, but he had trusted me not to truly hurt him. I wouldn't have. Not that night at the training centre, and not now.

I shook my head and dragged a hand through my matted hair. The world was easier to interpret when it was all black and white—fuck women, hate assholes, no opinion for undeserving losers. But Leonhart turned my reality into an ambiguous mess, filling me with resentment, desire, and confusion. At least I felt like I could think clearly again ever since this started. Perhaps men really were led around by their dicks.

Hearing the bathroom door open, I glanced to where Leonhart had reappeared and was halfheartedly tussling his wet hair with a towel. He hadn't dressed yet, and I noted with some satisfaction he hadn't bothered curing the damage of our encounter with a spell.

Feeling the man's eyes settle on me, his gaze contemplative, I felt strangely exposed. That had never happened before after sex. "This where you kick me out?" I baited, lounging back on his bed. Part of me hoped he would.

Leonhart leaned against the door-post of the bathroom and regarded me levelly, the towel slung over his shoulder. "Stay if you want, or go. You know where I live."

I couldn't have wished for a more blatant invitation for more, and I didn't know what to do with it.

"Don't overthink it."

The statement, delivered in that deadpan tone of his, had me laughing. "That's rich coming from you, Cupcake," I said, cringing inwardly the moment the nickname passed my lips. Had I slipped before?

Leonhart's quirked lips told me he'd noticed, but he didn't comment. "Either go or move over. I have a meeting in the morning."

This was ridiculous—it couldn't be this simple, could it? The tenacious part of me wanted to see this thing through to its fucked up end. Deciding to spend the night out of morbid curiosity, I pulled back the duvet and made room for the brunet to join me. Moving from his perch by the bathroom door, Leonhart threw the damp towel my way and walked over to the bed.

Cleaning myself up was hardly a priority, so I made quick work of wiping myself down before tossing the towel back to the floor. There was nothing to be done about the soiled sheets, but it wouldn't be me suffering the suspicions of the cleaning crew anyway.

When the brunet settled down next to me on his back, way too fucking unperturbed by all this and apparently deciding we should sleep in the nude, I couldn't help a knee-jerk reaction at finding myself falling in pace with the man.

"So, was the fuck worth dumping Rinoa?"

Leonhart frowned and glanced at me. I already knew I'd failed in my attempt to provoke him by his unflustered expression. Perhaps fucking the man had made me lose all ability to shock him anymore.

"She was good to me. A safe choice," he answered after a moment's thought. Oh fucking Hyne, not an actual honest answer. "But...she's not who I want."

I swallowed thickly, wishing he wasn't lying so closely, looking at me, while I literally had my back against a wall. He didn't seem surprised or offended when no reply was forthcoming—he simply turned around in the bed and settled with his back against my chest. Not having to look at each other's face was the only form of personal space the bed allowed for.

The room was cast into dimness when Leonhart turned off the lamp on his night stand, but the broad window let in the artificial glow of Garden's many exterior lights. I'd missed that in my own, box-like quarters.

Just when I started to relax, the silence lasting long enough to make me think we'd actually just drift off to sleep, Leonhart spoke again. He had become more chatty than I remembered.

"Why did you come?"

"I thought that was obvious," I replied, playing dumb. I knew he didn't mean why I'd come for sex, but why I'd come in spite of everything else. I wasn't up for that fucking conversation, remembering why I usually left after sex.

Leonhart's silence was poignant, his body stiff against mine.

I propped myself up to see his expression. "Really? You want to get into that shit now?" I said incredulously, gesturing at our naked selves in bed.

"When else?" he said, turning slightly to face me.

"Let me make one thing clear," I said lowly, my eyes narrowing. "If you think offering me your ass makes everything okay, you're fucking mistaken."

Leonhart shook his head. "That's not why—"

"You wanted me to talk. Let me talk."

Falling silent, he regarded me with a carefully neutral expression. I'd seen that one before.

"I don't understand what this is," I said, pointing between us. "If I'd had a choice, I would've walked the other way, but my dick had a mind of its own."

Leonhart turned onto his back fully and send me an unimpressed glare. "So you came here to what... get it out of your system?"

I chuckled. Surely he wasn't so naive as to think he was immune to others' dishonorable intents. "That was the general idea..."

I trailed off, suddenly acutely aware I'd achieved no such thing. Already I'd inched closer to him, my gaze captivated.

"Fuck, I don't even know if I can trust you, let alone go out with you," I said with a snort, thrown off by my own reactions. "I'm no straight-laced guy like you, Leonhart—definitely not relationship material."

The man just raised an eyebrow and quirked his lips. "Seize the day, isn't that how you put it?" he said, adopting the same tone I'd used when trying to seduce the brunet.

In that moment I realized how easily this man would have me eating out of his hand if I let him, but the offer was too tempting to pass up. Why settle for a one-night stand if I could fuck him whenever the urge arose? The urge would arise again, that I knew for certain now.

"...I'm not opposed to seizing some more days," I said lowly, leaning in over him.

"Done with today already?" Leonhart replied, immediately pounced for it.

To kiss someone without lust as the driving force was a new experience. I'd never stuck around before to instigate some post-coital... whatever this was, but I found I didn't mind. Pulling the duvet over us, I rolled us around until he was lying on top of me, allowing me unrestricted access to his backside.

"Have you been with men before?" I asked, retreating from his nipping lips. Confronted with the brunet's easy acceptance, the question had niggled its way back the forefront of my mind.

"Have you?" Leonhart asked defensively.

"Answer the question, Leonhart."

He looked down at me stubbornly, probably withholding the answer just to get a rise out of me. When he finally shook his head and said a curt "no," the relief I felt was inordinate.

"But even so, this doesn't bother you? Two men, I mean."

"Obviously not," he said dryly, twitching his hips against me to indicate his returning arousal.

"Wise ass," I said with a huff, wishing I wasn't the only one so fucking confused.

"It bothers you."

Now he notices, I thought with a snort. I'd never had any problem with other men choosing to suck each other's dicks, but I'd always seen myself as 100% straight. This sudden attraction to Leonhart was a mind fuck beyond belief, the crippling force of it unsettling.

"Compatibility is all that matters, not gender," Leonhart said when I didn't reply.

"Hmmm, and how compatible do you reckon were are?"

"Very."

As he leaned in to resume our kissing, no doubt preferring action over discussion, I realized this would quickly escalate into another full-blown session. Needing a few last things made clear before that happened, I broke our kiss and squeezed his ass to appease him when he sent me a frustrated glare.

"So..." I said, trying to collect my voice. "Any ground rules you'd like to set?"

"What do you mean?" Leonhart said huskily, his eyes dipping lower to my collar bone.

"I've got one for you. This stays between us."

His gaze darting back up, the man studied me closely. "...Alright."

"Now you," I urged, wanting no misunderstandings when morning came around.

He frowned in thought, before finally saying, "Don't treat me like a woman."

"How could I possibly," I said with a chuckle, not about to say I'd initially planned to fuck him like a woman. "You'd castrate me, and apparently I enjoy fucking you." Letting my hands start a roaming path up and down his thighs and ass, I let my lips stray towards his ear. "Anything else?"

"...I don't need to know about others."

Distracted from playing with his earlobe, I let the soft skin slip from between my teeth and looked at him. "What do you mean by that exactly?" I asked slowly. Part of me had expected the man would request exclusive relations.

"Do what you want, as long as others don't intrude on our time," Leonhart said evenly, his expression betraying nothing.

I raised an eyebrow. "Casual fuck buddies, that's what you're saying?"

Leonhart nodded. He let his eyes trace my face, before meeting my gaze again. "That's what you want."

Not about to admit I found the idea of Leonhart sleeping around highly unappealing, I forced a shrug and squeezed his ass. There was no way I'd be the one begging to go steady. "Suit yourself," I said with a lewd smile, trying to tell myself it was better this way. I'd never done more than casual fucks anyway. "I get it. You finally cut loose daddy's princess, so now you want to try out the buffet."

Leonhart frowned, mouthing the word buffet incredulously. "Not particularly," he muttered, sneaking a hand behind my neck.

The unenthused reply failed to put me at ease, and I couldn't stop from running my mouth, wanting to inflict the same irrational jealousy I was experiencing. "Your loss, Leonhart. I'll never say no to a good fuck myself—it's gotten me some interesting results. You don't know what you're missing out on."

His long fingers playing with the hair at my nape, Leonhart regarded me without pretense. "You'll do."

Stunned for all of a few seconds, I let out an uproarious laugh. "That must be the most unromantic thing a lover's ever said to me." When Leonhart raised a speculative eyebrow, I quickly smoothed over my own lapse. "Lover, fuck buddy, whatever. As long as I get to fuck that tight ass of yours."

I laughed, Leonhart's unimpressed glare unable to ruin my restored mood. Unless the brunet was lying, which was unlikely, no undeserving pricks would be claiming my territory any time soon. I'd always hated sharing what was mine.

Pulling the brunet close, I bit the earlobe I'd abandoned earlier. "I could get used to a warm bed I can return to," I said, chancing the small confession. "I usually don't come back for more."

Leonhart hummed in satisfaction, briefly distracted with the path I was tracing along his ear with my tongue. "When you do, let me know beforehand."

I grinned and pressed my stiffening cock against his. "Ever the practical one...But where's the fun in that?" When another thought entered my head, I let out an awed chuckle. "Fuck, what will spars be like now?" I wondered out loud, assuming having sex also meant we'd be sparring again.

Leonhart slowed his grinding motions and sent me an impassioned look. Hyne, how had I managed to end up with someone so eager for rough fucks and even rougher fights?

"Loser blows the winner?" I theorized. With such powerful incentive, I'd never lose another fight. Not that I'd ever needed a reward for kicking Leonhart's ass.

Leonhart's lips quirked into a slight smile, before he sat up to straddle me. "Loser bottoms for the winner?"

"In your dreams, Leonhart," I said confidently, my gaze dropping to the brunet's fully erect manhood. "You take my cock so well, you love it."

Shuffling down the bed, Leonhart bent down to my crotch and smirked. "Maybe."

I cursed when he slowly dragged his tongue along my erection, from hilt to tip. All thoughts fled my head as the man got busy with his mouth, enveloping my cock in wet heat.

"That's—that's... Keep doing that," I muttered, grabbing Leonhart by the hair and directing him to take more. The sight of my cock disappearing between those flushed lips was beyond sexy, every obscene slurp and sucking sound causing another pleasurable jolt to travel down my length.

If I had ever doubted the man's capacity for wanton indulgence, I was now being thoroughly corrected. Spreading his thighs as he kept up the wet, messy laving of his tongue, I felt my groin tighten at the sight of Leonhart grasping his erection and massaging it in earnest, his other hand still firmly curled around mine.

The man was jerking off to giving me a blow job, the mere thought causing my balls to twitch tightly in arousal. I wasn't going to last long like this, the brunet's fervor certainly making up for his lack of technique. Fucking Hyne, for all I knew he'd acted this out in his fantasies countless times.

The show he was giving me was more than I could handle, my lower body racked with keening spasms. Immobilizing his head with a firm grasp, I started to thrust up into his mouth, mindless in my need to come. His muffled cries wrapped around my brain and shot down to my cock, my seed pulsing into his waiting mouth.

Letting go of a shuddering breath, I looked down with a groan as I thrust up a final time, some of my come trickling down the corner of his lips. Dropping my staying hand to the sheets, I watched with a heavy-lidded gaze as Leonhart pulled back and let my cock slap wetly to my stomach. After a thick, swallowing motion of his throat, the brunet took in a rasping gulp of air and cast me a searing gaze.

About to expect a punch to the face for my inconsiderate approach, I was caught off guard when the man moved to straddle me again. "Touch me," he demanded, his voice raw.

Aware I couldn't refuse him after what he'd just done for me, I steeled myself and took hold of another man's cock for the first time. It was strange, but I doubted Leonhart would need much, his erection flushed a deep red and straining for my touch. Getting straight into a firm pumping motion, I quickly forgot about my misgivings when the brunet crumpled in pleasure and let his forehead rest against mine.

"Fuck ... Come for me," I hissed, speeding up my hand to match the wanton rolls of his hips. The moment I brought up my other hand to roughly knead his right ass cheek, Leonhart whimpered against my lips and came. Hardly any come landed onto my stomach at all, the man officially fucked dry.

Chuckling, I pulled him down next to me and wiped at my stomach with the already soiled sheets. The air around us was thick with the scent of sex, the bed damp and the windows fogged up. It had been a long time since sex had felt so new and invigorating.

Recovering his breath, Leonhart rolled against me lazily and looked at me with drowsy eyes. Something about the sight inspired honesty.

"Shit, Leonhart," I cursed quietly. "I'm not too sure this is a good idea." Spotting the onset of a frown, I quickly continued. "Hell, I'm not gonna stop now, but I can't promise—Fuck, I'm still angry all the time."

"With me," he said, his blissed-out expression sobering up.

"You, everyone, the fucking world," I said with a snort. "The one I really hate is dead and buried somewhere far in the future... Nothing's been right since."

"...I know," Leonhart muttered, sidling close against me instead of the distance I'd expected after my words. My heart settled tightly in my throat as I wrapped a possessive arm around him.

"So what," I said hoarsely. "We start with sex and spars, and go on from there?"

The brunet hummed in accord, perching his head on my shoulder. "I've carried out worse plans," he said with a quirk to his lips. "Maybe sex, spars and missions," he amended after another thought.

"Missions? Now I know sex makes you stupid."

"Why not?"

"You're the fucking SeeD Commander. I'm the most hated person to walk this planet after Adel and Ultimecia," I pointed out, narrowing my eyes at the familiar stab of anger.

"Not my problem," Leonhart replied evenly. "We work well together. I want to do more co-ops."

Shaking my head, I let out a snort. "And I want a 15 inch cock, a private jet and a written apology from the fucking world."

The brunet just rolled his eyes and looked up at me stubbornly. "If I arrange a co-op, will you take it?"

"If you can get anyone to co-sign that for you, sure," I replied, confident no such thing would ever happen. "Don't say I didn't warn you. People don't like me dirtying your pristine hero aura."

"Don't care," Leonhart muttered, settling in against me with closed eyes.

"That's it? Everything will be okay if we just want it badly enough?" I shook my head. "Even you aren't that naive."

Tilting his head to press his lips against my collarbone, he inhaled my scent and hummed against my skin. "Go to sleep."

"You're a greedy son-of-a-bitch, you know that?" I said, jostling the dozing man with my shoulder.

He glanced at me and nodded. "...For the first time in my life."

Speechless, I watched as Leonhart closed his eyes and fell asleep in my arms as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Tearing my gaze away when the man's breathing had deepened and evened out, his features relaxed in sleep, I turned to look at the bland ceiling.

I was exhausted, the high-strung emotions of the past few days taking their toll. I wanted to trust Leonhart badly, to believe we could be like this. It was different from the easy, uncomplicated attraction we'd shared when amnesic. It was us, the way we'd always been—all wrapped up in each other with unhealthy attachments, rivalry, and temper issues.

Fuu had been right. Boring and easy didn't suit me. Even if Leonhart would grace my bed from now off on, we'd still fight. The man would still be able to push all my buttons with a single glance, work me up to a rage and turn me on all at once. It could be amazing.

Closing my eyes, I felt strangely elated as I focused on the feel of Leonhart's skin against mine, the thump of his heart against my chest. I couldn't remember the last time I'd fallen asleep with someone else pressed close to me like this.

Half asleep, I grinned as a memory drifted up to the surface. Last time had been at the orphanage, during a lightning storm in the middle of the night.

Author's Note: [5th of June, 2014] And thus the last chapter ends :) It's been a busy week, but I finally managed to put it up. Wish I could've been more timely with this last chapter, but I hope you guys liked it regardless ^^; Ah, the last one. I know it ends right at the point where their relationship is just beginning, but I thought it'd be fun to let everyone imagine for themselves how things would go from here. Perhaps, some time in the future, I might consider an epilogue, but I don't think this story needs that. They might be taking their first baby steps, but I feel that in the end it's a solid few first steps. Squall is certain in what he wants and he's willing to adapt to Seifer's needs and be patient, not going in with demands he knows would intimidate Seifer. It's not that he doesn't want Seifer all to himself, but he would be careful not to come on too strong from the start. He knows Seifer is a ladies man. And Seifer, he's quickly coming around from his bout of self-denial, hehe. In this story I suppose it's good he's got such an astute handler in Squall ;) I don't imagine everything will go without conflicts or arguments from here on out, and public opinion would be a challenge to overcome indeed, but Squall already gave his press conference and he doesn't give two fucks about anybody else's opinion. What do you guys think? Think they can make it work?

That's it from me for now, sadly :3 It's been great fun writing and posting this story, and reading everyone's feedback! One last thanks to everyone out there who's been following me and reviewing! You guys are the best, and I'll miss finding your reviews in my inbox ;)