Title: Emo Kids Taste Like Strawberries
Rating: T
Pairing: SeiferxSquall
Summary: Squall should stop making decisions, because they aren't getting him anywhere.
Notes: I blame my addiction to strawberries and Yuu-chan, over on LJ, for this.
Squall had trained himself to be prepared for anything that might be tossed his way.
Garden had drilled it into his very being, had imprinted his mind with ideal plans for every possible instance in imagination, and he knew nothing else, he had been at it for so long. And if there ever had been anything else, he didn't remember it, so it didn't matter all that much anyway.
Squall Leonhart liked to believe that nothing could surprise him. That he was prepared for everything that could possibly be thrown at him, that nothing could catch him off guard.
"-even paying attention to me?"
At least, he had though that, until Seifer had walked through the door, hands in his pockets, tan face scrunched up in irritation over some menial thing, and had grabbed him by his shoulders, sometime during the midst of a rather large and rather violent argument that they had become engaged in, proceeding thereafter to toss him down on the tiny wooden table in the common room of the dorm. Thus leaving a grand total of two inches between their faces and a rather flustered, out-of-breath Seifer perched between his legs.
Squall had also liked to think that he didn't blush, because it was such a weak and girly thing to do, and he wanted nothing to do with it, but that was obviously not the case. He found himself squirming under Seifer's hot breath on his mouth and hipbones digging into his, and he flushed, wriggled under the weight holding him down like a trapped animal, and very much wanted to get away from the man above him.
He was desperately trying to ignore the fact that his blush wasn't just on his cheeks.
Roughly, he swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat, tilting his head to the side and away from the gentle pants washing over his skin that were slowly melting through his resolve and fogging up his mind.
"Seifer."
Of all of the things that Squall had believed in his life, he had been absolutely positive that he would not lose his first kiss at the age of sixteen, that he had no interest in anyone whatsoever, and, above all else, that he would never, ever kiss Seifer Almasy.
It became very clear that he should stop making such decisions as of now, because they never seem to get him anywhere.
Seifer's hands clamped down on each side of his face and thin lips smashed against his mouth before he could even make a move to prevent such a thing from happening, and he decided that he really hadn't prepared himself for everything after all, because he shouldn't be kissing Seifer back right now, and he shouldn't be enjoying this nearly as much as he currently was, and he shouldn't be making such a horrible, weak noise down in the back of his throat, because it was only making matters worse.
He was also very certain that Seifer should not be laughing right now, that grin spread over his face, a glimmer of mirth in his jade green eyes, and Squall suddenly wanted to lean up against the body holding him down and smack Seifer as hard as his shaking arms would let him, because there was absolutely nothing funny about this situation.
"What?"
Seifer's grin only widened at his question, and he leaned down, running the tip of his tongue over Squall's bottom lip, not really sure if what he's doing is normal or not, but not really caring, before he laughed out loud one more time.
"I never would have guessed that the Ice Prince wore strawberry flavored lip gloss."
