~ Chapter Twenty-Three - Broken Lines
[Seifer Almasy's Apartment, Zayin House, Saturday, 25th of October, 11:12 pm]
Grinning, Seifer brought his bottle of beer to his lips and leaned back against the couch. "Come on. Put them on."
"Why? They're just glasses," Squall said, sending the man a distrustful look. Laying down a Triple Triad card onto the coffee table, he prevented Seifer from taking over his weaker corner card.
"I just want to see what you look like with them on," Seifer said, shifting his position on the floor and picking a card from his hand. He held it up in the air, not yet revealing it. "Even if I win this game, I'll drink that shot instead of you," he said, nodding at the Cortego waiting in a small shot glass on the coffee table. "But you'll have to wear your glasses for the next game," he added, pretty certain this would finally end up as one of his wins.
Narrowing his eyes, Squall considered the man's angle and the evening's endgame. Even though Seifer had already downed far more shots than himself, he still seemed mostly unaffected. The ridiculous request seemed like a cheap enough price to nudge the blond closer to inebriation, and himself to victory—assuming victory meant being the last one standing.
"Suit yourself," Squall finally said with a shrug.
Seifer placed his card on the table, winning over two of Squall's cards in the process. "Might as well go get them, Princess. This won't take long."
Squall snorted, throwing down his counter move, recovering only one of his lost cards. He would never understand other people's fascination with what he did or didn't wear.
"Let's see you top this," Seifer said, placing his last card on the board.
Squall put down his own last card, eyeing the expected outcome. He was only one card short in the end, but Seifer was grinning as if he'd been the one on a winning streak. Getting up before the man could order him to do so, he rounded the couch to retrieve his glasses from his work bag. Sitting back down, he leveled the childish man next to him with an unimpressed look before putting on his glasses.
"Drink up," he reminded, gesturing at the shot that still sat untouched on the coffee table.
Grabbing the glass, Seifer smirked broadly. Not only had he just won his second game of the evening, but he finally got to see Squall wear his glasses—not a bad sight by any stretch of the imagination. Definitely a new image to add to his repertoire of fantasies. "To secretary Squall," he said, before downing the black liquid. "I can see why they're restricted to paperwork. They don't really complete the deadly assassin look."
"Appearances can deceive," Squall said dryly, dealing the blond a new hand of cards. "Fortunately I'm neither."
"Garden not getting many assassination assignments anymore?"
"We get more requests than ever," Squall replied with a huff, moving his gaze to his new hand of cards. "Few actually get carried out these days and never by me."
"How come?"
"We take missions for money, but not indiscriminately. If we accepted every assassination, the world would be leaderless by now," Squall supplied evenly, meeting the blond's gaze.
Seifer chuckled lightly. "And how come you've decided to skip out on them?"
"I prefer to look my opponents in the eye, fight them fairly."
"I hear that," Seifer agreed and scratched at his cheek. He'd gone much further himself after the war and had made a vow to never kill another human. Enough innocents had lost their lives at his hands and there was always a way to incapacitate an opponent without using lethal force.
"What kind of missions do you do then?" he asked as he threw down a card to start their next game.
"After the war it was mostly conflict resolution—the Galbadian civil war, the Timber warlord. These days I fight more monsters than I do people."
Going by Squall's tone, Seifer figured the man preferred it that way. Just like he did himself. He leaned over to refill his shot glass. "You looking forward to getting back out there?"
"Always," Squall replied, watching with satisfaction as the blond failed to circumvent his strong central card. "I'm not good at being idle."
"Me neither," Seifer agreed. He was always busy either at the SCTA, at Arc's, or out on the road. He'd spent more time in his apartment since Squall was staying with him than he had the entire month before that. Shaking his head at their unlikely situation, at them actually playing a drinking game together, he couldn't believe how normal it felt. Even more unbelievable was how comfortable the brunet seemed around him—dressed down to drawstring pants and a comfy shirt, relaxing on his couch, in his home. As if they'd always been able to hang out like this.
Watching as the game unfolded and Squall took over almost all of his cards, Seifer snorted and shook his head. "When the fuck did you get this good?"
"It's a way to pass the time," Squall said with a shrug. "A lot of missions involve more waiting than action."
"If you're that sure, then let's up the stakes," Seifer said, a smirk curving his lips. "Three shots for the loser."
Wondering at what point in their shared history it had become impossible for either of them to back down, Squall set down his pair of glasses and shuffled the deck against his better judgment. "It's your funeral."
"It's going to take more than three shots to do much damage," Seifer said with a grin. "Besides, you've got some catching up to do." When Squall met his gaze evenly, he chuckled. "Come on, Princess, let's roll." But as soon as he eyed the cards the brunet handed him, he let out a groan. "With this newfound reckless side to you, should I be worried about foul play, Sunshine?"
Squall glanced up from his hand at the equally ridiculous accusation and nickname. "Is that an attempt to bluff, or are you admitting defeat already?"
"Neither," Seifer said, desperately trying to form a plan of attack. "I have no fucking clue where to take it with these cards, but I've won with worse."
"Not against me," Squall goaded, a smile threatening to ruin his straight expression. In spite of his words, he didn't let himself be baited into opening with his strongest card. He hadn't quite discounted the possibility yet that the blond was trying to throw him off.
"Then you won't mind a more interesting bet. The loser has to answer a question."
Looking up at the challenge, Squall knew he only had himself to blame for provoking the man. He remembered well enough what kind of questions Seifer was likely to ask. "That's assuming I want to ask one," he said with a quirked brow.
"I'm sure you can think of something," Seifer said through a smirk. "Or I can down the shots."
Squall huffed, still not interested in any of the man's personal business. "Bottoms up," he said dryly, throwing down his next card to signal his agreement. He felt fairly confident he'd win, but more than that, he refused to be rattled by whatever questions the man might cook up.
Having his answer, Seifer plucked a card from his hand and put it down next to Squall's. He really did have fuck all chance to win with these cards, but he would have had a hell of a lot more chance if Squall hadn't just blocked off that corner. Watching as the game unfolded, it became more and more apparent that Squall was the one in control.
A smug smile stole onto Squall's lips as Seifer ended the game with his weakest card yet. Leaning back, he was inordinately pleased when the cocky bastard filled his first shot glass unprompted. "Practice helps," he pointed out helpfully.
"Save practice for those who need it," Seifer said with a shake of his head before downing the three shots in quick succession.
"I've heard that before," Squall replied dryly. "From a truant who can't hold onto his blade."
Seifer chuckled at the memory of Nolan's dumbstruck expression the day before, the boy's blade flying from his hand. Squall had never been one for mercy. "Alright… You win." He started shuffling the cards. "Same bet? Or two questions versus six shots?"
Figuring two questions weren't all that riskier than just the one, Squall regarded the steadiness to Seifer's hands. Six shots would go a long way in remedying that. "Double the stakes," he agreed, moving forward in his seat.
Dealing the cards faster than he had previously, Seifer kept his eyes trained on Squall. Just like earlier there wasn't the slightest hint whether the brunet's cards were good or bad. He'd hoped the higher stakes would make the man reveal something, but his expression was set in stone. As he picked up his own cards, he tried his best to suppress the curl twisting the edge of his lips.
He put down his opening card. "If you win this, I swear I'll down that entire fucking bottle."
Squall limited his response to a level look out of principle. No amount of bluff would get him out of his predicament with the cards he currently held. Mostly low level creature cards, no hard hitters. Realizing he'd just given Seifer free rein to ask him two questions—any questions at all—he quickly quelled the thought and played one of his stronger cards.
Easily winning over Squall's first card, Seifer flipped it over. His smile broadened and turned into a boastful smirk as he kept turning Squall's cards over one by one as soon as they came into play. By the end of it, he'd taken over all of them. Not yet looking up from the thorough thrashing he'd just dealt, he chuckled. "How the mighty have fallen," he teased.
Giving up on his pointless scrutiny of the disaster in front of him, Squall suppressed the reflexive need to pinch the bridge of his nose and got up from the couch. He needed a moment, something to drink that wasn't alcohol. He could feel Seifer's impatient gaze as he filled a glass of water, and when he turned around, Seifer had moved around to lean against the end of the couch closest to him, ignoring his need for distance.
"Done stalling?"
Meeting Seifer's smug expression head on, Squall willed his face to remain blank. "Whatever," he said evenly, not about to bail out on his end of the deal.
"I think you can guess the first question," Seifer said, holding Squall's gaze as a slight frown grew on the man's brow. Squall's refusal two nights earlier to tell him whether or not he had slept with other men had caused his stubbornness to kick in full force. Even though he could guess the most likely answer, he wanted to hear Squall say it out loud. "So have you?"
Predictable as the question was, Squall still felt a flash of defensive anger, however misplaced. He'd dug this hole all by himself. "...No," he finally ground out, glancing away before he could check the urge. "You're such an asshole," he added for good measure.
"Then you're going to like my second question even more," Seifer said, unable to quell the immense satisfaction at Squall's answer. He'd thought he would have been all right with a 'yes', because it would have meant Squall was open to sleeping with men, but his relief told another story. "How many have you had sex with?"
At the equally invasive question, Squall glared at the bastard. "Why does—" Cutting himself short, reminding himself that his reply shouldn't matter one way or the other, he steeled himself for the sting of humiliation all the same at having to share something so private. "...Two."
"Including me?"
"Yes," Squall said testily, wanting the topic over with. "Satisfied?"
"Very," Seifer said after a pregnant pause, his hands gripping hold of the couch behind him. He was so fucking turned on by Squall's answer, but with Squall backed into a corner like this, pushing for anything would most likely lead to disaster. "I guess you won't play me for another question?" he asked, a hint of a smile on his lips.
"I'm done pandering to your ego for the night," Squall said resentfully.
"My ego?" Seifer said with a raised eyebrow. "How is this about my ego? It's not a fucking competition. I hate to break it to you, but there's no way you would come close to winning. I asked because it makes me hot to know you haven't fucked more people."
Brow twitching at the conversation spiraling out of his control, Squall ignored the dangerous part of Seifer's statement and chose instead to focus on the infuriating double standard. "You say it's not a competition," he said with tight control, his eyes intent. "A conquest then?"
Letting out a disbelieving chuckle, Seifer shook his head. "Didn't need the extra notch on my bedpost, Leonhart." At the glare that met him, he stood up straighter. "I fucked you that night because I've been fantasizing about you for years. You made me come harder than anyone else. And yes, I want to fuck you again and no I don't like the thought of anyone else ever seeing you like that. If that's ego, then fuck it."
Squall stood speechless, unable to process the stream of vulgarity. His grip on the glass of water had become shaky and he quickly set the drink aside on the counter. His pulse quickened when intent green eyes refused to break away, the bastard's knowing gaze picking him apart. He imagined walking away while he still had the presence of mind to do so, but slowly the damning realization settled in that he wouldn't. Part of him had been waiting for Seifer to do something like this ever since he'd realized he'd wanted the bastard to kiss him after their spar.
Watching Squall's reaction closely, Seifer could see the instinct to fight or flee warring in the brunet, but Hyne help him, he wasn't about to pull any punches. This was it. Time to go for broke.
"Shit, let's play for what we really want. If I win, I get to fuck you and if you win, I give you the blowjob of your life."
Squall blinked, remembering the forgotten cards, the game. His pulse spiked at a bet he couldn't possibly accept. The thought of turning the attraction between them into a game left a bad taste, bringing to mind the more toxic aspects of their past rivalry. "You've lost your mind."
Refusing to break eye contact, Seifer felt his hands itch to get closer. Action over words had always been his forte. But this time he needed to hear Squall admit it out loud. Or agree. He couldn't be the only one to blame for what was about to happen—not after the Avalanche. "Nope. Not even a little bit. Let's do this, Leonhart."
Fingers clenching around the counter's edge, Squall felt his mouth go dry. Even now, on the cusp of a potentially disastrous mistake, he couldn't make up his mind. He knew what he wanted, knew how dangerous it was. He hated this indecision, hated how Seifer was staring him down, no grin, no smirk, no action to take the choice out of his hands. The bastard was making him complicit in his own downfall.
"No games," he managed, the counter offer forced past his lips. For a second he thought he had been misunderstood when Seifer simply stared at him, and he despaired at the thought of making himself any clearer, but then the blond moved.
Crossing the distance between them, Seifer was struggling to believe the words had actually left the brunet's mouth. No terms were the best terms—no fucking pretense needed. The implied 'yes, I want you to fuck me' had his heart beating loudly against his chest.
He stopped right in front of Squall. His gaze bored directly into grey-blue eyes, then dropped to the man's lips. They were slightly parted. Waiting. Just like they had been after their spar. Licking his lips, he placed one hand against the cupboards behind Squall and brought up his other hand to caress the side of Squall's neck.
Inhaling deeply, he relished the familiar scent of the man. He'd been wanting to touch Squall like this for years—long before they took Avalanche. Closing his eyes, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Squall's gently. He could feel Squall swallow hard against him, the man standing stock-still as he broke away again. The look in Squall's eyes said it all. This wasn't Avalanche. This wasn't alcohol. This was them. After tonight there'd be no going back—no more sweeping things under the rug or pretending this wasn't what they both wanted. Burying his fingers in brown locks, he moved his thumb against Squall's jawline. He tilted his head and leaned in once more to press his lips against softer ones—much softer than anything he'd ever associated with the brunet.
Stiffening at the unfamiliar sensations Seifer stirred in him, Squall somehow still managed to be unprepared when warm lips touched his own again. Letting go of the tight breath that had been caught in his lungs, he tentatively slotted his lips closer against Seifer's. The grip on his hair tightened in an immediate reaction, the blond's lips roving his more insistently. Suddenly it seemed like insanity he'd been able to deny the man this long.
It was different from what he remembered, slower than expected. He had absolutely no defenses against the unhurried confidence to Seifer's every move. Their closeness, the deep irresistible musk that rose to his nose, the prickling touch of five o'clock shadow against his skin—all of it slowly chipped away at his restraint. He tried to follow the more experienced man's lead, foregoing the need for air and breathing through their kiss, leaving him lightheaded despite the slow pace.
When his bottom lip was drawn into Seifer's mouth, released only after a firm nibble and a parting lick, Squall felt his spine go weak and he only barely stopped himself from molding himself against the man towering over him. Instead he held onto the counter more firmly. He struggled to keep up with all the exploring moves, failing miserably at coordinating his responses. His neck ached at the angle of their kiss, but he ceased to care when Seifer's tongue pushed past his teeth.
Eager for more, Seifer ran his tongue against Squall's and enjoyed the man's hot breath mingling with his own. He was still unable to believe that this was actually happening—that he had finally managed to break through the brunet's feigned indifference. Sliding his tongue against teeth and lips, ending with a hard suck to the man's bottom lip, he received a heavy sigh as a reward. Placing a more gentle kiss against reddened lips, he stared straight into Squall's eyes and brought a hand down to grab Squall's waist, before forcing the brunet's body flush against his. With only soft fabric between them, little was left to the imagination as he moved against the man, Squall's erection pressing into him. Groaning, he watched as dark eyebrows scrunched in pleasure.
Pressing his lips to Squall's again, he fucking loved the telltale signs of the man's lack of experience—the crude way Squall was returning his kisses. This was his and no one else's. Smirking at another of the man's slip-ups, he rolled his hips against Squall's and relished the stifled sound that left the man. With a playful nibble to soft lips, he snaked his arm around the man and cradled the back of Squall's neck. Fuck, this was addictive.
Pausing their kiss to grind more firmly against the man, he felt a pulse of arousal surge through him at every hitch to Squall's breath. As he licked along Squall's neck, he faltered briefly when Squall began to return his grinding motions. He let out a low groan and tightened his grip on the man's hip. It was too fucking sexy to feel Squall's erection slide against his own like this. Biting down on Squall's jugular, he sucked hard and ground himself faster into the man. Squall was matching him push for push, until suddenly the brunet arched back with parted lips. It took all of his willpower to stop himself from letting Squall come then and there. Instead he leaned in to place a forceful kiss on Squall's lips, before looking the man straight in the eye.
"Not here."
Dazed, Squall frowned as Seifer withdrew all touch and headed to the bedroom. Awareness was slow to return as he blinked and took in his disheveled state, every attempt at thought distracted by the aching throb between his legs. Somehow he'd expected for this to be less... less than Avalanche, but there was no control. He'd been mindless with need, rutting against the blond, so very close and completely uncaring of what he must've looked like. Suppressing the unhelpful stab of panic, he took a shaky breath and tried to calm the wild drumming of his heart.
This was madness. He'd never experienced anything like this before. Not with Rinoa. Not ever. The way Seifer had looked at him when walking over... He'd been hard even before the first touch. Swallowing thickly, he glanced at the open bedroom door, the bastard just out of view. Was Seifer giving him a chance to bail out? The frisson of panic returned at the thought of stopping things here. It was too late now, too late for second guessing. He'd made his choices every step of the way, from foolishly agreeing to drinking games to allowing the man his dangerous questions. He'd ended up right where he'd both feared and wanted to be.
Pushing away from the counter, Squall walked to the bedroom and paused in the doorway, the room bathed in blue neon light spilling in from the street, just like it had been during their night of Avalanche. By the bed, Seifer was pulling his shirt over his head, exposing a well-defined chest. Scars lined tan skin, the largest one a long mark that cut all the way from a strong shoulder down across firm pecs. A few of the scars he'd put there himself, but most he didn't recognize. Snapping from his study when the shirt fell to the floor, he met Seifer's intent gaze. Wrestling his nerves into submission, he stepped forward.
At Squall's approach Seifer felt his lips split in a grin. It was a powerful fucking rush to make Squall wait for it—to make Squall come to him, but he hadn't anticipated just how badly his own patience would be put to the test. It had only made him even more eager to touch and lick the man all over and make him writhe and moan in pleasure. He wanted to turn Squall into a sex addict, and get to know every fucking inch of the man in the process.
Pulling the man in for a hungry kiss, he tugged Squall's shirt upwards. Watching impatiently as Squall took it off and dropped it to the floor, Seifer ran the tips of his fingers down the man's side before sliding his hand up a toned back and pulling Squall closer still. As their bodies melded together, skin against skin, he leaned in for another kiss, but he couldn't focus on it—not when he could feel Squall still hard against him. They needed the bed for what he had in mind.
Squall held back a frustrated sigh when Seifer broke off their kiss again. He resented Seifer's composure, while he couldn't even think straight every time the man touched him. Trying to calm the rise and fall of his chest, already missing the feel of heated skin against his own, he watched Seifer climb onto the bed and recline on his side. When Seifer jerked his head in response to his hesitation, he moved onto the mattress and lay down to face the man, unable to do anything other than follow Seifer's lead.
Smirking at Squall's awkwardness, Seifer held the man's gaze as he brought his hand down to touch the soft skin just above the hem of Squall's drawstring pants. His smirk grew wider at the quick tensing of muscles and Squall's sharp inhale. Slowly running his hand up firm abs and pecs, he lingered to tweak a nipple before tracing the outline of Squall's collarbones with his index finger. He didn't want to rush this, not when Squall wasn't protesting even the most teasing of touches. He could feel the mad race of Squall's heartbeat as he explored firm pecs, could see all the little ways Squall was failing to stay motionless underneath his touch. It was too fucking addictive to take Squall slowly apart like this.
Letting his fingers follow the scars that crisscrossed most of the man's torso and arms, he took his time mapping every last inch of Squall's upper body. When his touch reached hard metal, Seifer traced the pendant he'd seen Squall wear without fail since the man had gotten it as a teenager. He could feel Squall's gaze as he ran his finger along the pendant, and knew he was being allowed much more than he'd ever imagined. It kindled an unfamiliar greed in him, a need to push the man's boundaries even further.
Trapped underneath Seifer's light touch, Squall struggled to control his breathing when the exploring hand abandoned his pendant and started to travel down his chest, his abs, further down still. He couldn't bring himself to relax, his every muscle twitching in response to the caress. Hot fingertips teased his skin, inching closer to his groin. His entire mind and body were intent on the single point of contact, tracking its maddeningly slow progression. When the touch reached the hem of his drawstring pant, lingering briefly, he let out a low hiss of anticipation. He would make the bastard pay if he dared to stop now.
A shock of sensation jolted through him when Seifer's hand moved again and ran across his erection, the feather light touch quickly growing bold, forcing a near moan from his lips. Strong fingers curled around his length, as if getting a feel for him, before stroking him through the fabric of his pants. The leisurely caress drove the breath from his lungs, his whole body tensing with the need for Seifer to stroke him faster.
Looking down at the aroused brunet, Seifer forced his fingers underneath the man's pants and pushed at them impatiently. The slight hesitance to Squall's fingers when the man moved to take off the rest of his clothes told him all he needed to know. Squall couldn't hide his inexperience and, fuck, it only made him all the harder. Maybe it did stroke his ego to know that Squall was letting him look and touch where others had been denied. Reveling in the unlikely privilege, he kept his eyes glued to every inch of the man finally lying naked before him. Shit. He wanted to see that cock bob with excitement and glisten with precome, without ever touching it.
As yet another caress along his side set his skin alive with goose bumps, Squall kept himself from biting down on his lower lip. He struggled to lie still underneath the blond's touches and shameless gaze. He was being laid bare, his body's every reaction studied and catalogued, his neglected erection starting to ache with need. It was torture. It wasn't even close to being enough. He needed mad grappling, fast action, anything that would blow every last thought from his mind, but he didn't know how to ask for more, couldn't even imagine the words leaving him. His hands twitched idly at his sides, and he became increasingly aware of everywhere they weren't touching. He wanted to press his entire body against Seifer, feel every inch of him. He wanted Seifer's boxers gone—
He gasped softly when hot fingers suddenly closed around his straining cock. His balls tightened instantly, his hand shooting up to press against Seifer's chest. Letting go of a tremulous sigh, he closed his eyes to shut out the man's gaze. It was too overwhelming to be studied so closely while Seifer stroked him to the brink of orgasm, the man's face close enough to feel his breath.
Working his hand up and down Squall's erection, Seifer gripped more tightly and sped up his touch. Squall's eyelids twitched in an immediate response as the man bit down on his lower lip. This was it. A few more strokes and Squall would come. He needed to remember every single fucking detail. Continuing his rhythm, he felt Squall arch into his hold and firmed his grip before rolling his thumb over the head of Squall's cock. A string of shallow breaths escaped Squall's lips before the man's entire body tensed, hot white come shooting from Squall's cock, coating Seifer's hand. His own cock throbbed at the sight. He'd just made Squall fucking Leonhart come and fuck him if he wasn't going to lick up the mess.
His heart thudding loudly against his chest, Squall let himself go limp and didn't bother suppressing the lazy shudder that rose up from the base of his spine. Relaxing his hold on Seifer's chest, he only had a brief moment to wonder when his hand had traveled there, before the blond placed a kiss on his lips and broke free. He cracked open his eyes at the sudden distance, only to start when wet heat enveloped the tip of his highly sensitized manhood.
Hands clenching, he fought to keep still under the disturbingly intimate feel of Seifer's tongue against his length. Holding his breath, he only managed to release it when Seifer moved on to lick his stomach. Looking down, his eyes widened when he realized just what the blond was doing. It couldn't possibly taste good, yet Seifer proceeded to lick him clean with quick, adept moves, not seeming to mind one bit. He'd never been comfortable with such acts in the past, but to his own surprise he could already feel a faint rousing in his groin at the sight of Seifer lapping up every last spill as if hungry for more.
"Turn over."
Startling at the first words spoken since they'd entered the bedroom, Squall felt his pulse spike in response to the deep, raspy quality to Seifer's voice. He remembered all too well what such an order entailed, and glanced down Seifer's body, immediately singling in on Seifer's tented boxers.
His eyes flickered back to the blond's expectant gaze, before he turned around onto his stomach. Ears straining for any sound behind him, he jolted a second time when a firm, wet touch lapped against his right buttock—Seifer's tongue. Sucking in a breath at the far too intimate touch, Squall battled the urge to clench his cheeks. A hand stroked along his left buttock and lower back, the blond's tongue returning to lick and nip at his back this time.
Unsure of the unfamiliar touch, Squall brought up his arms to better steady himself and hide his expressions. He wouldn't be able to control them—not when Seifer was starting to firmly grope his ass and place messy, eager licks, nips and bites all along his thighs and cheeks. His body seemed to have a mind of its own, slowly melting into the touches, even when his sense of propriety cringed at letting Seifer do this.
When a thumb suddenly ran along the length of his crack, Squall gripped the sheets for purchase. He could feel Seifer's breath ghosting his skin, the man's hands now roughly groping his ass. Just as he started to feel self-conscious at the close study, he was utterly unprepared when Seifer's tongue dove down his crack and over his anus. A sharp gasp flew from his lips before he could reel it in, his cock jolting to full hardness even as his mind cried alarm at the invasive touch.
Another strangled sound escaped him when Seifer spread his buttocks and started to lick all along the sensitive skin, the man's tongue lapping around and over his entrance. Fisting the bedding tightly, he felt he should protest the wet intrusion, but he feared that if he attempted speech, he'd only manage a series of embarrassing cries. Unable to focus on anything other than Seifer's hot tongue doing the unimaginable, Squall fought to stifle all sounds. Who actually did something like this?
Hanging his head, he swallowed thickly. He didn't understand how such a questionable act could feel so good, but clearly Seifer understood it perfectly well, the bastard playing his body's reactions expertly with every probing touch and wet lick. His every nerve end throbbed with an unsettling but growing need for Seifer to lick him more firmly, more deeply, causing a pinched sound of complaint to tear free from his throat the moment Seifer's tongue retreated to his buttocks.
Freezing in place at the sound of Seifer chuckling, Squall was mortified at his utter lack of self-control, but he only had a second to steel himself before a finger pressed against his entrance and started a leisurely slide in and out of him, slowly inching deeper. The slight discomfort was quickly smoothed away with deft licks swirling around his anus, the mild one-fingered stretch alternated with unabashed strokes of Seifer's tongue. He was helpless to stop his body from reaching for orgasm as Seifer slowly worked him open, his breath unraveling into quick panting.
The second he succumbed and pushed back against Seifer's touch, his hips were roughly pulled up into the air until he found himself prostrated on his knees. The sudden rush of cool air against his erection was immediately replaced with a firm grip stroking his length, drawing a startled gasp from his lips. All the while, Seifer's tongue and probing finger continued their pleasurable assault. The sudden added stimulus of Seifer's calloused hand was rushing him quickly to his end, but just as his body started to seize up with the promise of ecstasy, all touch was withdrawn.
A brief moment of rushed activity and the rustle of fabric behind him was followed by hot, velvet hardness sliding along his crack. His breath caught in his throat, anticipation warring with uncertainty. Squall couldn't remember exactly how many fingers Seifer had used while on Avalanche, but it had been more than one. His cock hardly cared, leaking precome at the feel of Seifer's erection rubbing against him.
His whole length lined up just right, Seifer let out a low groan as the tip of his cock touched Squall's entrance. It would be so easy to just slide inside, so easy to feel that tight heat around him and fuck the man raw. His breath hitched as he repeated the move. Squall was too fucking sexy like this—ass in the air, cock hard and panting. The man was close to coming again—close to coming from being fingerfucked and rimmed and now enjoying the feel of Seifer's cock sliding against him. Firming his hold on Squall's hips, he sucked in a breath when they gave a soft push back, the man's puckered ring just slightly giving way and causing a throbbing sensation to ignite at the base of his cock. Quickly pulling back, he wrenched his eyes shut, but all consideration and tact left him as the heat fused into an unstoppable pulse. Ramming himself into Squall just in time, his cock erupted the moment his reddened head made impact with Squall's tight entrance.
"Shit—" he cursed, feeling Squall's buttocks pressed up tight against him. He'd fucking torn right in there in one thrust. Riding out the aftershocks of his orgasm, completely powerless to stop himself, he pushed again even though he was already buried to the hilt. A faraway grunt and sharp intake of air reached his ears, but he couldn't focus on anything but the blinding pleasure at the contact.
"Fuck—" he ground out, having lost all sense of composure, his whole body tight with the orgasm that had charged through him. And then just as sudden as it had come on, he started to take in his surroundings again; the creak of the bed, the feel of Squall's tense muscles beneath his unforgiving grip. Squall's eyes were scrunched closed and his jaw clenched. He could feel the immense stretch around him, the all encompassing heat. It had to hurt like hell.
"Shit Squall..." he said, relaxing his upper body and lowering his head as he ran a hand along Squall's side. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to the crook of Squall's neck, and for the first time in such a setting, he wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want to pull out and lose contact, but he couldn't fuck Squall without more preparation—without lube. Shit, for all he knew the man wanted him to pull out right away. Needing to know how Squall was holding up, he snaked his hand around to Squall's front and grabbed hold of the man's cock.
A thrill of disbelief shot through him. Squall was still hard and the moment he gave the man's cock a tug he felt tight muscles clamp around him. Thanking Hyne he was still hard himself, he felt his cock twitch in anticipation. There was no way he wasn't going to fuck Squall into oblivion now. He wanted to watch Squall come while being impaled on his cock. And for that he most definitely needed lube.
Keeping his body stiffly in place, Squall let out a soft hiss when Seifer finally moved and slid free of him. An echo of the earlier pain stabbed through his lower body, but the friction and movement caused him to clench around the retreating hardness all the same, sending a new rush of blood to his groin. It was a strange, dual sensation—not a bad one by a long shot—but he didn't have any breath left in his lungs to voice his need. He desperately hoped this wouldn't be the end of their tryst.
At the soft but insistent tug at his hips, he turned onto his back with bent knees, moving gingerly at first to test the extent of the damage. The first pain had been the worst, he decided, since he hadn't known to expect it. Forcing himself to relax, the feat not made any easier by the distracting feel of come trickling down his crack, he looked up to find Seifer still positioned between his legs. Unsurprisingly, the bastard's expression lacked any and all signs of apology, but he didn't stand a chance of mustering annoyance when all his focus was immediately drawn to the impressive sight of a fully naked Seifer, the man's erection still very much undiminished.
Squall's arousal throbbed as Seifer reached over to fill his hand with a royal helping of lubrication, and he reclined fully onto his back in anticipation, needing the return of Seifer's touch. His pulse jumped hungrily, his eyes roving over dark blond curls and the thick girth of a proudly jutting cock. As he met the blond's gaze, something about his actions caused the man to grin, but the devious expression only served to incense him further. He was beyond caring, beyond pride. When Seifer coated himself with lubrication, Squall looked down and followed every brisk motion, relieved at the man's haste. Hanging back his head, his breath hitched as Seifer leaned in and smeared cold lube around his anus. His cock twitched in anticipation.
When Seifer gripped him by the back of his knees, better positioning him for penetration, a thrill ran up his back. He should've felt exposed with his legs propped up like this, his lower body bared and locked into place, but it was exactly what he wanted. Recalling the force Seifer had used when on Avalanche, he brought up a steadying hand against the bed's headboard, wordlessly signaling his readiness.
An approving growl was followed by the feel of Seifer pressing his rock hard erection against his entrance. Drawing in a steadying breath, Squall let the naked need in green eyes anchor him as Seifer sank into him with one slow, unrelenting push. He felt himself stretch impossibly, the forgotten pain flaring back to life. His sides heaved with the tight pleasure of it, his mind flung to pieces and soaring. Wrenching his eyes shut, he vaguely registered the sound of a low grunt when Seifer finally came to a stop, pressed close to him. He could feel every twitch of the hot, hard member sheathed inside him. Already he felt close to coming.
When Seifer started to move again, Squall forced himself to relax into the aching spasms that threatened to ripple through his backside. His body keened for release with every slide into him, but the edge of pain kept him from the brink of orgasm. He desperately needed something to centre himself amidst the whirlwind of contradicting sensations. Opening his eyes, he sought out and immediately found Seifer's gaze. He wanted to kiss the man. He wanted to be fucked harder.
Seeing the impatience plain in grey-blue eyes, Seifer firmed his grip on the back of Squall's legs and rammed himself in deeper. The first unadulterated moan that tore from Squall's mouth had him cursing and sliding back out only to pound his cock right back in. The fucking ice prince of his teenage years was splayed before him, wanting it fast and rough, aroused as hell despite minimal preparation. The fast thrusts were causing Squall's defenses to crumble, more moans leaving the man as Seifer pushed in faster and harder. He was stretching Squall wide, pushing in all the way to the hilt every single time, and still Squall's cock was rock hard between them, bobbing in time with his plunges.
To see Squall like this—to feel him like this, it was a fucking dream come true. No drugs, battle high or casual fuck had ever come close to what he was feeling now. The intensity to Squall's eyes, the shimmer of the familiar pendant out of the corner of his eyes, the smell of Squall and sex—it all fused into mind blowing pleasure. Grinding the brunet into the bedding, the bed creaking loudly beneath them, Seifer held the man's gaze until grey-blue eyes disappeared behind tightly shut lids.
Relishing the twitches to Squall's expression, he couldn't stop himself from leaning down. Catching Squall's lips in a hot kiss, he moved in closer to the man, unable to keep up the pace in their changed position, but the added closeness more than made up for it. A low rumble left him as Squall stiffened beneath him, hot liquid landing against his stomach. Apparently that was all he fucking needed to get his own rocks off, his whole body thrumming with his impending orgasm. One more thrust and he'd be fucking coming inside Squall. Again. Tightening his hold, he pressed closer still and emptied himself into the man with a groan. Their bodies convulsed together as he rode out his orgasm, slick come leaking out from the tight seal between them with each harsh thrust. Fucking perfect.
Squall arched into the feel of Seifer's spurting length with a stifled moan. The man speared into him with a last brutal plunge, impossibly deep and causing the arm he had propped against the headboard to buckle under the impact, until finally all movement stuttered to a halt and Seifer promptly collapsed onto him. His lower back complained at the man's heavy weight pressing him down into the mattress, but he hardly cared as echoing pangs of pleasure surged through his body.
"Fuck, that was good," Seifer said, resting his head next to Squall's, his breath heavy against pale skin. He didn't want to move yet. They hadn't lasted long, but it had been the most intense sex he'd ever had. Just like everything else that involved Squall, it left him wanting more.
Leaning down, he trailed his teeth along Squall's collarbone before pressing his lips down and sucking hard. He wanted to mark the man. Swapping between biting, nipping, and sucking, he claimed as much of Squall as he could get. Biting down harder on an earlobe, he smirked at the way Squall drew in a keening breath and shifted to better accommodate him.
His mind slow to clear, Squall's stomach flipped with belated embarrassment when he felt the curl of hot lips against his skin. Several times he'd noticed the bastard's amusement, but he'd been too mindless to care. Even now he couldn't help the small twitches and sighs the man coaxed from him. Starting to feel uncomfortable with the man's softening length still buried within him, needing to stretch out his legs, he brought up a hand to push against Seifer's chest.
He could feel come trickling from him when Seifer pulled out, but the man just lowered his legs to the bed unceremoniously without any care for the bed linen that were quickly being soiled. The blond collapsed next to him with a satisfied groan, jostling him with the dip of the mattress.
Freed of the man's weight, Squall closed his eyes and drew in a deep, unobstructed breath. Between the fast-paced sex and the heavy press of Seifer's body, his heart was still racing as he slowly came down from the intense high. Next to him, Seifer's heavy breathing was familiar enough, mirroring his own and sounding much as if they'd just had a rough spar. There was an unsettling intimacy however to the heat radiating off the body lying so close to him, almost touching. His every inhale was thick with the smell of sex. Already, the slick sweat that had collected between the tight press of their bodies was starting to cool, chasing a brief shiver down his chest.
Moving his lower arm to rest against his forehead, Seifer relaxed more fully against the bed. His entire body was still tingling with the remnants of ecstasy and his mind was burning with images of Squall. He hadn't expected sex between them to be like this at all—not even after their night of Avalanche. His first mistake had been to assume the brunet to be like everybody else—to need slow preparation, to want to avoid pain. Instead Squall had been impatient and the man's body had eagerly shown him exactly how he wanted to be fucked—rough and fast. The same way Squall had wanted it when strung out on Avalanche. His second mistake had been to think he'd last more than five minutes in bed with the sexiest man on the planet. He should've fucking seen that one coming. They both had the fucking stamina of virgin teenagers.
Needing to see Squall again, he opened his eyes and turned to lie on his side. Propping his head up with his hand, he smiled at the sight that greeted him. One well-fucked brunet, reclining naked on his bed. Definitely a view he could get used to.
"So drinking games always end badly, was it?" he asked through a smirk.
At Seifer's smug question, Squall opened heavy-lidded eyes and glanced next to him. The bastard seemed totally at ease with their situation, unabashed in his nakedness and his study of Squall. Feeling some of his earlier self-consciousness return, he averted his gaze. Adjusting his back and hips with a soft wince, he let himself sink more comfortably into the soft bedding, his entire body thrumming with satisfaction. He was sore all over, from everywhere Seifer had roughly gripped and maneuvered him, to the tenderness of his backside.
For the aftermath of sex to feel like this... After the first time they'd slept together he'd fallen asleep almost instantly, and afterwards he'd been quick to heal away all evidence, too panicked to stop and let himself linger on any of it. But this—this felt good. He was well acquainted with the kind of pain that brought satisfaction: the result of a hard day of training, of a difficult fight, the proof of survival. This was similar. It made him feel rooted in the moment. Alive. Avalanche couldn't compare to this, and the thought that what they'd just done was better than their night on Avalanche was more than troubling.
If anything, the drugs had stripped the experience from its sharp edges—the unenhanced, real sensation of Seifer thrusting into him and deriving pleasure from his body instead of some chemical. His mind uninfluenced, the choice to do this his own, there was no room for doubt or blame anymore. The sex had been amazing because of Seifer. A terrifying thought pushed to the forefront then. He'd never stop wanting this now.
The beginnings of regret started to tie his stomach into a knot. He would have been better off never finding out sex could be like this. To get entangled with someone, to need something that most likely only Seifer could give him... He didn't want anyone to have that kind of power over him, yet at the same time he was utterly powerless to change his predicament. Now that the last of his denial had been stripped from him, he was at a loss to understand how it had happened. Before the war there had never been any attraction between them, nothing to suggest any kind of compatibility beyond their spars. Now… Now it—
"Stay here," Seifer said, wanting to dispel the distance in grey-blue eyes. It had been building slowly, the brunet's eyes turning more and more unfocused as the minutes had passed.
When Squall's gaze returned to him, he eyed the man carefully as an all too familiar feeling grew in him. He wanted to know exactly what Squall was thinking—wanted to stop the man from drawing all the wrong conclusions. All that mattered was how fucking amazing this was. All that mattered was now.
Sidling up close to the man, he guided the brunet to lie on his side and ran a hand up Squall's ribs. He had to show Squall again, had to make him stay in this moment for a while longer. Placing a gentle kiss on soft lips, he was relieved at just how readily Squall allowed it. No hesitance. No withdrawal. Pressing his body closer, he caressed Squall's back unhurriedly. It was both sexy and absurdly intimate to feel Squall like this—all languid and pliable.
Nibbling at Squall's upper lip, he trailed a hand down to squeeze a lean buttock and brought their groins even closer together. He could get used to slow intimacy like this—something he'd never cared for in the past. It being Squall made all the fucking difference. He slid his tongue past parted lips and locked their lips together, their tongues intertwining. Pulling at the buttock still grasped tightly in his hold, he relished the slight moan that spilled into their kiss, before running a firm hand up the man's side. Pushing against solid pecs, he guided the brunet onto his back and immediately covered Squall's body with his own, chasing away any space between them.
Grateful for the return of distracting touches, Squall let himself melt into the mattress, the man's weight not as oppressive as when he'd been struggling for breath. Instead, he welcomed Seifer's body heat, the wandering caresses. He was slowly growing accustomed to the feel of Seifer's tongue delving deeply into his mouth, but at the same time little shocks of surprise kept rolling through him at every curl and twist and lick. After the satisfyingly rough touches of intercourse, this languid kissing felt too intimate, too dangerous to savor, but when Seifer moved away slightly to look him in the eyes, he arched up his head and pressed his lips to Seifer's all the same. His heart leapt at the unintended move and refused to settle down even when Seifer fervently returned his kiss, the man's gentle touch escalating into rough groping.
Squall readily allowed it all, his head swimming with the exhilaration of getting Seifer to react like that. Drawing in Seifer's roving tongue more deeply, he was drowning in the sensation of kissing the man so hungrily. Feeling emboldened, he brought up a tentative hand to Seifer's ribs and slid his fingers against heated skin. Again he was rewarded, this time with a throaty rumble and a firm grind of Seifer's hard length against his own. Quickly becoming greedy, he stroked his hand up to Seifer's chest, his fingertips trailing along firm muscle, hot skin, a smooth scar—
His exploring hand was grasped into a coaxing hold, the man interlacing their fingers and pushing his hand to the bedding in a manner that reminded Squall of Seifer's possessive hold on him during Avalanche. His momentum lost, he felt torn. He wanted to continue touching Seifer, but it seemed the blond had other things in mind. After a last stroking of tongues and a firm grind, the man broke their kiss and started a wet trail of licks, bites, and kisses down his body.
Mapping a line down Squall's stomach with the tip of his tongue, his teeth caressing the man's soft skin, Seifer smirked at the push of the man's hips against his hold. Moving down to press his lips against the skin just above Squall's dark pubic hair, he inhaled deeply and couldn't fucking wait to feel the man's stiff length in his mouth. He wanted to get Squall hooked on this—on him. He was going to make Squall fucking fantasize about this.
Pushing at firm muscles to spread the man's legs, he ran his teeth along Squall's hard length before licking his way back to the juncture between Squall's thigh and groin. Getting onto his knees, he firmly stroked the brunet's inner thighs and massaged his way upward, slowly inching towards the man's groin. Staring unabashedly at the cock jolting with yet another rush of blood, he grinned before locking eyes with Squall one final time. Bending down, he spread his lips.
Unable to stifle his voice, Squall scrunched his eyes closed, his hands jerking down to grab hold of the sheets. Even though he'd been prepared for the intimate touch this time, it felt completely different when he was hard and yearning for it. His eyes rolled back at the feel of Seifer's lips closing around the tip of his erection, giving a brief suck before bobbing up and down once. Curling his fingers into the sheets, it was all he could do not to grab onto blond locks when Seifer moved off him and switched to firm licks up and down his length.
Already his groin was tightening with sharp arousal, precome starting to leak from him. He would've felt self-conscious if it hadn't been for Seifer's eager sampling of his come earlier, and the man greedily inhaling his scent. Seifer's enthusiasm was evident in every unabashed stroke, up and down his shaft, teasing the rim of his head. Letting out a tremulous breath, he felt his limbs start to weaken. He couldn't hold his voice back any longer, an unchecked moan escaping him when Seifer's grip firmed around the base of his erection and hot lips returned to suck at the tip of his cock, taking in more of his length with each repeated slide down. Unable to help himself, his hips arched off the mattress. Answering his need, Seifer sped up and let out a deep hum that vibrated against his skin, wringing another moan from his throat.
Too spent for anything more than complete surrender, he let his legs fall wider and yielded to the sound and feel of Seifer sucking him off, the air a cool contrast against wet skin whenever Seifer's mouth retreated, only to plunge down all over again. Between the man's firm grip and mouth, it felt as if Seifer was taking in all of him, his entire cock enveloped in slick heat. His hips moved of their own accord, thrusting up shallowly to meet each slide of warm lips. Straining for release, his cock flushed to full hardness at the thought of coming into Seifer's mouth, just like he had while on Avalanche.
Remembering the arousing sight of Seifer giving him a blowjob, he suddenly needed to see. Opening his eyes, he looked down, straight into green eyes. Lips slick with saliva pulled off him before the bastard smirked and made a show of slowly licking up his entire cock, all the while never breaking his gaze. A groan built in his chest as Seifer shamelessly repeated the move, before tonguing his slit and lapping up any precome that had dribbled free. The sight proved too much, causing his balls to draw up tightly, the tide of his release irreversible now.
As if prescient, Seifer's tongue swirled around his cock before hot wetness wrapped all around him once more, quickening into a fast pace. His balls were grasped into an almost painful squeeze, knuckles massaging firmly into the sensitized skin below, while the blond's other hand closed tightly around him and worked him into slick warmth. Jerking up into a taut wire, Squall let out a breathless cry as his climax pulsed from him in waves, the blond's mouth coaxing him through the eruption until he was wrung dry. When his hips collapsed back to the bed, Seifer's tongue started to lap gently at his spent cock, his overly sensitized body twitching in response. Every part of him tingled, a pleasant lethargy taking hold of him.
Sucking in a shuddering breath when Seifer's tongue finally retreated, Squall opened his eyes in time to watch Seifer move in on top of him, the man's gaze heavy-lidded with raw need. He only had a few seconds to take in the eager bob of the blond's reddened cock, the glistening shine to parted lips, the hot rush of their clashing breaths before Seifer's mouth descended on his, infusing their kiss with an unfamiliar flavor he belatedly realized was his own.
Whatever patience Seifer had mustered seemed to have vanished, filling him with anticipation. Seifer's tongue delved hungrily into his mouth, making it hard to breathe. Up close like this, his every inhale was joined with the blond's musk. Starting to feel light-headed, Squall had barely enough presence of mind to register the harsh movements of Seifer's arm brushing against him, along with the unmistakable sounds of mounting pleasure. All at once alerted, Squall's heart burst into a rapid tattoo, but before the desire to touch and participate had even fully formed, Seifer wrenched their mouths apart and buried his face into Squall's neck. A deep groan rumbled against Squall's skin, the man tensing above him as hot liquid landed onto his stomach. Stunned and unmoving, Squall glanced down to watch Seifer jerk out the last of his orgasm, a few choice obscenities leaving the blond's mouth.
As before, Seifer moved off him without any ceremony or words, jostling the bed as the man let himself fall back onto the mattress with a drawn-out, raspy exhale. Every plane to Seifer's face was relaxed, all tension leaving the man's body as he once more caught his breath, his arms and legs splayed languidly without a shred of self-consciousness. The only movement that followed was a lazy hand patting the bed in search for and locating the man's discarded boxers, which Seifer promptly used to clean himself. It seemed their evening had come to a close then.
Though thoroughly sated and exhausted, Squall's heart still pounded against his ribs, the end having come all too abruptly and without much involvement on his part. He'd only just started to gather enough courage to try and reciprocate more fully, but Seifer had outmaneuvered him with mind-numbing pleasure at every turn, effortlessly smoothing over his own glaring lack of experience. Watching the unperturbed display next to him, Squall suddenly felt the difference between them keenly now that the haze of arousal was slowly lifting.
When it became clear Seifer wasn't inclined to deal with the mess he'd left on his stomach, nor with what they'd just done, Squall glanced down at himself and the state he was in. Needing more than a halfhearted wipe of boxers in the way of cleaning, he pushed up from the bed and forced himself to maintain a normal stride in spite of the renewed aches that assaulted his backside. After all his uncensored exclamations, all the exposure, he felt far more vulnerable now as he tried not to visibly hasten towards the temporary sanctuary of the bathroom.
Cracking open an eye to watch Squall's naked back retreat into the bathroom, Seifer smirked at the sight. Not only had he just had sex with the hottest fucking man on the planet, but the brunet wore his marks all over. If he wasn't so fucking spent, he'd be pouncing on the man all over again. He'd get his energy up for the morning he was already planning instead.
Forcing himself to get out of bed and put on a clean pair of boxers, Seifer hastened back. Laying back down, he pulled up the duvet and relished the feel of the cool fabric against his hot skin. Listening to the clatter of water coming from the bathroom, he couldn't help a stupid smile from spreading across his lips. This felt fucking good. Natural even. Squall in his bathroom, cleaning up after a rough night of sex while he lay spent on the bed himself. He could get used to it. Hell, he wanted to get used to it. There was no way he'd let Squall retreat from this and return to just sparring with him. No fucking way.
Looking up just in time to lock gazes with Squall as the man exited the bathroom and walked over, he suppressed an eyeroll at the brunet's far too pensive expression. He knew the man well enough to know Squall was already overthinking things again. He'd just have to stick with the only countermeasure that had ever worked with the stubborn man, the same one that had worked earlier—action. Intertwining his fingers behind his head, he watched as Squall put on his boxer briefs and a shirt and couldn't help a wide grin. The brunet hadn't healed himself and was still carrying every last mark he'd put on the man. Convinced it had been a deliberate choice, he tried to temper his grin and pulled the duvet aside for Squall to climb under.
"7 o'clock again?" he asked as he watched Squall get into the bed and lie down next to him.
At Squall's slight nod, Seifer crossed the small but noticeable distance the brunet had left between them. Sidling close, he placed his hand at Squall's waist, forcing the man to get used to this. This was how it was going to be from now on. No needless distance. No space for Squall to get lost in.
Leaning in, he pressed his lips to Squall's and inhaled deeply. He tightened his hold and pulled Squall in close. Trailing his fingers up Squall's chest, he deepened their kiss and felt a thrill course through him when Squall's tongue darted out to meet his, the man's body melting into his touch once more. Bringing his hand up to caress the crook of Squall's neck, he curled his fingers into soft brown locks. It felt so good to be doing this, to kiss Squall slowly, to taste him and touch him like this.
Placing another kiss against soft lips, he ended it with a playful nibble to the man's lower lip—a move he'd already used many times that night to great effect. "Sweet dreams, Princess," he said with a wink, before getting comfortable in his close press against Squall. Yawning widely, he stretched out the kinks in his shoulder and lowered his arm to rest across the brunet.
Squall stared at Seifer's closed eyes, the man's face slack with relaxation, and belatedly frowned at his reflexive acquiescence. He'd been spellbound by the bastard's unhurried lips, a single touch able to send all fear of unwarranted intimacy flying from his head, but this time his unease returned quickly and tenfold. He knew better than to read anything into the persistent closeness Seifer was forcing on him, but it left him feeling uncomfortable all the same.
Seifer's easy acceptance and apparent plan to just call it a night contrasted jarringly with his own need to make sense of it all. There was no way he'd be able to fall asleep just like that, but the blond seemed to have no trouble. Seifer's breathing was already slowing down, a slight twitch to the otherwise still body telling Squall the man was dozing off. The bastard had just upended his entire world a second time around, but it didn't seem likely the reverse was true.
Waiting a few beats until he was certain Seifer was asleep, he slowly turned underneath the heavy arm draped across his waist, careful not to jostle the man as he disentangled himself from the close press of their bodies. Turning his back to Seifer and moving towards the edge of the bed, he directed his gaze at the wall, but there was no escaping the man. Seifer's breathing hadn't hitched or faltered during his careful maneuvering, and if he concentrated closely, he imagined he could feel the puffs of air against the back of his neck. Soon they'd turn into soft snores.
Frowning at actually knowing just how deeply Seifer was lost in sleep from the sound of the man's breathing alone, he feared he was already getting far too used to sleeping in the man's bed. The sheets were warm with their shared heat, the air redolent with a heady musk that was neither solely Seifer's or his own. His sated body relished in the sensations, but no matter how tired, he couldn't get the thoughts in his head to stop.
So quickly after realizing his attraction and vowing never to act on it, he'd done the exact opposite. It was ridiculous how easily Seifer had managed to ensnare him. He had known he was in trouble, but only now did he realize just how crippling this attraction between them was. The moment Seifer had chosen to follow up his relatively harmless flirting with initiative, he'd been incapable of saying no. In fact, refusal seemed impossible whenever Seifer had his hands and lips on him. He'd allowed Seifer everything.
A flush of heat reached his cheeks as he recalled the depth of his body's response to the bastard's every touch, some of which he'd never even imagined. He was absolutely powerless against this lust he felt for Seifer. There was no other word for the raw need the man stirred in him. After years of indifference towards sex, it was shocking to discover he was capable of such a thing. Nothing in his relationship with Rinoa had even hinted at the possibility. Sex had been an unfortunate obligation—one he had avoided more often than fulfilled. But with Seifer he'd cried out in pleasure, craving every touch, both rough and gentle. He wasn't sure he liked such total lack of control.
As a warrior it was his business to know his body down to every urge and reflex, to make sure that he was in control. Mind over body—that was how he survived wars, how he fought, how he approached life in general. There was nothing too painful or intense for him to handle. He was used to sensory overload, to falling into the instincts of his body, to navigating overwhelming battlefields that required his attention everywhere all at once. And yet Seifer was able to render him blind and deaf to the world around him with a single touch.
He didn't know himself at all.
Frowning, Squall pushed away the unsettling thought. A less damning explanation was that he'd simply never experienced the true nature of sex until now, the way it was supposed to be. Unlike Avalanche, he'd chosen it. Unlike Rinoa, he'd wanted it. He'd wanted it with every fiber of his being. He still did. Seifer stirred something inside of him that was impossible to ignore. The man had been beyond erotic—the supple, smooth expanse of tanned skin, the thick muscles that bunched and released in motion, the hot breaths and scent of his skin, the sound of his release... But it went beyond the physical. It was Seifer's effortless confidence and skill, the man's knowing smirk as he fine-tuned Squall's body, the unapologetic way he indulged his every instinct.
This was what people called sex appeal, Squall thought numbly. It was the first time in his life he'd experienced the concept so acutely, and at the same time he realized just how much he paled in comparison. He'd only managed a few touches towards the end, too overwhelmed and inexperienced to do much more than lie back and react for most of it. The sex probably hadn't been the experience Seifer had come to expect when remembering their night on Avalanche. He knew that this time he'd been awkward and much more restrained. He didn't have anything to offer in the way of skills or techniques, nor did he have the blond's build. Seifer on the other hand... After Avalanche, he had erroneously thought Seifer had shown him everything. Now, he couldn't help but wonder what else the blond had in his repertoire.
Frowning, Squall found he disliked being at such a distinct disadvantage. How long would Seifer's interest last, with him being so utterly inexperienced? All he had done was follow the man's lead with uncharacteristic passivity. He knew this was where years of sexual indifference came back to bite him in the ass, and all the frustration Rinoa had felt toward him gained new meaning. She hadn't been satisfied with him, some days patiently trying to get him to let go and other days accusing him of being frigid. He had gladly accepted the latter as fact, not needing to take a closer look at himself if he could just blame everything on a lack of libido. Now, he wished he would have tried harder. If he had just cared a little more, allowed Rinoa a little more, he might not have been so ...inadequate in the present. He didn't understand why it felt so different with Seifer.
It was obvious Seifer had noticed his inexperience. The bastard had been amused. No doubt it stroked his ego to know he bested his one-time rival in this. But soon the novelty would wear off, and then Seifer would only see the sexually stunted man in his bed who froze up the moment he was asked to voice his desires or act them out. There was little chance of Seifer continuing to find satisfaction in only his body, without any substantial reciprocation. It was what had driven Rinoa away, the girl resorting to a string of one-night stands to find what he had been unable to offer. And she had still felt some measure of love for him at the time. Seifer wasn't tied down by such attachments.
Huffing at the pointless thoughts about a past he couldn't change, he turned on his back and glanced at the sleeping man. He'd always disliked it whenever he lagged behind. It hadn't been ambition to become a great SeeD that had driven him as a cadet, but the need to catch up and prove himself Seifer's equal, a worthy sparring partner. Back then, Seifer had guided him as well, even if the arrogant cadet would never have admitted to such a kindly inclination. The whole thing had a strange feel of inevitability about it. Seifer had always been more experienced than him, more talented, a natural. His gaze lingered on naked skin, and he wondered what it would be like to mark Seifer the way he'd been marked himself.
Starting when Seifer let out a soft snore as predicted, Squall frowned at himself and looked away. It was unwise to make any assumptions at this point. He didn't entertain the delusion that this thing between them was about anything other than sex, but even so it seemed inadvisable to add attraction to their already volatile relationship. Between his own pride and Seifer's ego, it couldn't lead to anything good, but such thoughts were too little too late at this point.
He couldn't help but wonder what Seifer wanted from it all. The blond's eager participation and goodnight kiss suggested this would not be their last time together, the man still seeming interested, but the thought wasn't necessarily a reassuring one. He had no idea what kind of unspoken social contract he'd agreed to by letting Seifer take him to bed a second time, and Seifer's earlier crude statements hadn't shed much light on the man's expectations for any future dealings. If this wasn't about staking a claim or making some conquest, as Seifer had insisted, then why? If it truly was nothing more sinister than honest lust, then how long would it be until the man would grow bored with him? How could he trust Seifer's motives, when he didn't even understand his own? His best hope was that all of this was just as inexplicable and unexpected for Seifer as it was for him. It was the only scenario that left his pride somewhat intact. If that was the case, then perhaps...
If he was to believe Irvine, casual sex was all good and easy, without strings attached, but Squall couldn't imagine this being without consequences. He didn't understand the concept of fuck buddies, of using people and being used, all for the sake of fleeting release. It seemed beyond naive to think an arrangement like that wouldn't affect their relationship in other areas. They'd only just started to explore what it might mean to be friends, and he wasn't sure he was interested in the 'benefits' without the friendship. He also wasn't sure how to feel about being just another addition to the blond's obviously long list of bed partners. Nothing more, nothing less. Casual. Inconsequential.
Scowling, Squall knew he'd arrived at the crux of the matter. There was nothing casual or inconsequential about the way his heart seemed to leap into his throat whenever Seifer smiled at him or stood too close. His feelings refused to be hammered down, intruding on his every thought, informing his behavior at every turn. Anybody else, Rinoa included, and he would already have been on his way back to Garden, having grown weary of their prolonged company. Instead he was ruled by sentiment, urging Seifer to remember his past, to remember them. He'd gone to dinner with the man, had spent several nights now in close proximity, intimacy even. All of it pointed to a deep-seated need to establish a lasting connection with the man. In the neon blue darkness of the small bedroom, safe from Seifer's discerning gaze, Squall couldn't hide from the truth that presented itself.
It had never been just about sex for him. Not when they'd taken the Avalanche, and not since. Already he was more invested in this thing between them than was safe. He'd end up hurt.
Recoiling from the budding realizations, he dreaded the next day. He already knew he probably wouldn't be able to muster Seifer's level of nonchalance, but he would have to deal somehow. No matter how difficult, he would try not to let this ruin the careful balance they had reestablished. If he didn't make this personal or harbor any expectations, then he might just yet make things work somehow.
Unconvinced of his chances of success, Squall rubbed his tired eyes and let out a sigh. Next to him Seifer was stirring quietly, gradually taking over more of the bed. Glancing over, Squall let out an amused snort in spite of himself at the sight that greeted him, the unguarded display soothing some of his frayed nerves. The blond had managed to sprawl out onto his back indecorously, having lost all cover in the process. The man's lips were parted, his usually carefully groomed hair already sticking every which way.
The observation that Seifer was devastatingly handsome, even in sleep, was a reflexive one by now, and Squall couldn't muster any anger over it anymore. It had simply become another one of those immutable facts of life, however inconvenient. Turning back to face the wall, Squall forced his eyes closed. The next day would be difficult enough without sleep deprivation. It was pointless to pick apart all that happened, all that had or hadn't been said, especially knowing the man would probably just ignore his conclusions anyway.
Bastard.