~ Chapter Thirty-Six - Borrowed Time
[Shennard Hill, Galbadia, Tuesday, 28th of October, 10:05 pm]
On the last leg of their journey, Seifer watched as the train stopped at yet another empty station. For the last couple of hours every stop had been in the middle of goddamn nowhere, with no one getting on or off. Pointless. You'd think it'd mean that the train would stop in Winhill, but no, Winhill didn't even have a train station. Instead he'd be stuck for half an hour in a car with just Squall and Ellone. How the fuck that wasn't going to be awkward beat him.
He looked over at Squall again, the brunet's eyes quick to meet his. It was as if Squall had a sixth sense for when his eyes would stray. It had been like that all day. Even when he'd been certain Squall had been asleep, gray-blue eyes had opened to meet his gaze whenever he'd indulged in a closer study.
He held back a sigh. With only about an hour left on the train, he could no longer push away the thoughts he'd been avoiding all day. He'd slept all the way to FH and then again to Timber. He actually felt remotely awake now. Enough so that he was going crazy at the lack of anything to do. Yet he'd still managed to avoid working through all the things he'd decided to figure out on their way to Ellone's.
It would be odd meeting Ellone again. He'd only seen her in passing during the war. The first time he'd spotted her, their eyes had met while two Galbadian soldiers had taken her somewhere else for holding. Her expression had been composed. No hatred or anger. Fujin had reported Ellone's capture to him earlier that same day. She'd told him the girl had come without a fight once they'd found her. Even though he hadn't been in charge of her interrogation or hadn't done anything directly to harm her, it would still be weird as fuck. That came with the whole 'yes, I was on the wrong side of the fucking war and tried to take over the world' thing. It would be hard to face her. What was he even supposed to say?
Squall's sister, more or less.
Closing his eyes, he tried to remember her from when he was a kid, but couldn't. Everything from that time was still mostly a great void.
He'd follow her lead. Let her set the tone. He'd show his good intentions and gratitude in whatever way he could. She'd already agreed to Squall's request, so he had to assume she'd forgiven him or at least didn't blame him to an extent where she couldn't be in the same room as him.
At least he had a plan on how to deal with Ellone now. The next thing he needed to figure out was what the hell to expect of them going into each other's memories. From what Squall had told him, they'd both get to experience random memories from each other's lives, without any choice as to what or when. They wouldn't be able to abort mid-memory. He could think of plenty memories he'd rather Squall would never see. And those were just the ones he could remember. He kneaded at his forehead, the headache from that morning returning.
Even though Squall had said he hadn't been able to see anything from the war, what if Squall and Ellone's experiment had been a fluke and Squall would stumble straight into one of his horrors? There was no way he'd be able to face Squall after that. He'd disappear and make sure Squall wouldn't follow. If this failed, he would never be able to find any tangible proof; he'd never find absolution. This was his only chance. If it didn't work, then his ugly past would always be a major rift between them.
His expression turned grim. What would be most likely for Squall to see? Before the war, there'd be memories of Garden; lots of training and pestering Squall for spars. There was his summer fling with Rinoa and him hanging out with Rai and Fu. Not really anything incriminating. After the war was a whole other ball game though. He didn't want Squall to see how pathetically weak he'd been after he'd come to, how unstable his mind had been. Nor did he want the man to see him living as a bum in the darker corners of Esthar. The time he'd spent at Arc's he guessed would be all right. Memories of the menial jobs he'd taken on at the beginning wouldn't be a problem either. Nor any of his travels. There were plenty of safe memories Squall could be landed in during that time.
But after that came the debauchery. Nights of nonstop fucking and drugging up his mind. He glanced over at Squall. As gray-blue eyes traveled from the window to meet his, he held the brunet's gaze. Just what the hell would Squall make of him and Calder screwing?
He furrowed his brow and looked away.
They'd promised they'd tell each other what they saw, but what good would that do? It'd be too late to do anything about it, to forget what they'd seen. Even if their trust extended as far as letting each other see everything, there was a real risk of seeing each other's darkest and most private moments. How the hell could they move past that? If he had to experience Squall sticking his dick in Rinoa and telling her sweet nothings, then there was no way he could go back to looking at Squall the way he did now. He'd fucking retch if he had to see that.
But it wouldn't be the worst thing he could end up seeing. Himself through Squall's eyes during the war. D-District. That would be the worst by far. He looked out into the black night and took a steadying breath. Some of what he'd felt straight after returned. The utter self-loathing. The need to end it all. Would those feelings become overpowering again if he had to live through it all once more?
At least they had one more night. As soon as they were in Ellone's guest room, he'd make every last second count. He glanced at Squall, wanting to indulge in a longer study of the man's features, but again his gaze was met almost immediately.
Squall suppressed a sigh when Seifer's eyes darted away from him and settled back outside the window. He took in the man's face, the crossed arms and pensive frown. Ever since their departure from Timber, Seifer had grown increasingly withdrawn and lost in thought. The good cheer that had accompanied the man throughout the beginning of their trip had faded and been replaced with a somberness that was starting to become infectious.
He couldn't really blame Seifer. There were more ways this could end up in disaster than not, but that was the inevitable nature of last resort plans. He wondered what concerns were on Seifer's mind in particular and if they were anything like his own. Every now and then he'd sense the man's gaze and turn to meet it, wishing he could assuage Seifer's misgivings. He had no reassuring words to offer however; all he had was determination.
Looking back out the window, he could see his own reflection more clearly than anything out there. The only thing to illuminate the dark night were the moon and stars overhead and the occasional warm pinpricks of lights rushing by, indicating they'd just passed another small hamlet. The Galbadian countryside was as tranquil and sleepy as Esthar was bright and overwhelming to the senses.
Only a handful of passengers remained, nearly all of them caught in various stages of sleep. Squall was sure the two of them would be the only ones getting off at Baren Falls, the closest stop near Winhill. The other travelers were most likely on their way to the terminal station. Every station they stopped at now was no more than a lone, deserted train platform, each one as unremarkable as the next. The only thing to set them apart from each other were the signs that named each stop.
He'd come this way by train only one other time and though his mindset had been very different at the time, he'd been in turmoil then as well. He'd bent the truth to Quistis about needing more time for a mission, so he could sneak off and find answers. He hadn't wanted anyone to know he was thinking of Seifer all the time; that he was plagued by questions that wouldn't leave him alone. In the few nightmares that had managed to slip past Rinoa's watchful guard, he'd been the one torturing Seifer just as often as the reverse. In the days before they'd bonded, before her numbing interference, he'd killed Seifer a hundred times in his dreams, only to wake up in cold sweat.
It was strange to travel the same route for similar reasons, but this time with Seifer in tow.
So much had changed since his last visit. So much more was at stake than his own peace of mind. He glanced at his phone when they stopped at the second to last station before Baren Falls. They'd only accrued a small delay, which was miraculous by Galbadian standards, but it meant Ellone was probably already at their stop waiting for them.
He didn't dislike her, the woman easier to deal with than Loire most of the time, but that didn't keep him from feeling ill at ease whenever he was around her. She considered him her brother, but he couldn't say he felt the same. Life had simply turned out differently, but no one seemed willing to accept that fact. Instead they tried to force him into a family unit that had never existed to begin with, making him feel guilty whenever he fell short of their expectations.
They stopped at the last station before their stop, ever drawing closer to Winhill.
There was nothing particularly wrong with his birthplace either, but the small town made him feel just as discomfited as the notion of family did. If it hadn't been for several twists of fate, he would've grown up there, with a mother, a father and a sister. To return to the place felt like visiting the remnants of a stillborn future.
Huffing inwardly at his thoughts, he straightened from his perch and stretched to try and restore some blood flow to his stiff legs. Across from him, Seifer only stirred to get ready when the train finally pulled in at their destination. The man kept quiet as they gathered their belongings. Taking the lead, Squall walked to the exit and stepped out onto the platform that was dimly lit by a single lamp post. The sky above them was clear with bright stars, unlike Esthar's light polluted skies. The air smelled of pastures and cattle.
Ellone stood waiting for them in the meager light of the lamp post, a smile on her lips.
When Seifer showed no sign of taking the initiative, Squall started into motion and walked over to the young woman. Her smile broadened as she met them halfway. Walking right up to him, she maneuvered past the luggage dangling off his shoulders and drew him into a warm hug, her arms tight.
"Long overdue," she said softly, her voice slightly pinched as she withdrew. Her eyes roved over Squall's appearance.
Uneasy with the open show of affection, Squall nodded. "Ellone."
Taking the overly formal edge to his greeting in stride, Ellone moved her gaze to her other guest.
Holding out a hand to Ellone, Seifer stepped closer, some of his tension lifting after what he'd just witnessed. Ellone cared greatly for Squall, that much was clear. When she moved to take his hand, her smile never faltering, he found himself pulling her in for a hug. A slight frown flitted across his brow as his unplanned gesture played out, but all he felt was deep gratitude. Giving her a slight squeeze for emphasis, he wanted to convey how much this meant to him. He wouldn't have had the words to explain.
After a brief moment of surprise, Ellone squeezed right back and breathed a soft laugh. "Now this is worth driving out for in the middle of the night," she said as they stepped back from each other. Her gaze moved to scrutinize Seifer's appearance just as she had Squall's. Finding no faults, she briefly squeezed his hand, as if to confirm he was really there.
"Come on," she said, starting from her thoughts and gesturing behind her. "My pickup's just around the corner. I left the engine running, so it should be nice and warm." Receiving no counter suggestions, she quickly nabbed the tent off of Seifer's shoulders to even out the load before the man could protest. "Follow me." She made for the small set of stairs that were cast in darkness. "Mind your step. The brickwork isn't exactly what it used to be."
Seifer followed her down the steps. "Never been out this way before."
Ellone cast him a smile. "Not many people have. I'm still grateful Uncle Laguna never entered Winhill in his travel journal."
"He wrote a travel journal?"
"He didn't tell you about his stint in journalism?" Ellone asked, surprised. "He published a few articles about his travels, his favorite places. You should see those towns now. Overrun with tourists." When they rounded the corner and left the light of the train platform behind them, she guided the way ahead of them with a flashlight. "Thank Hyne he had the foresight to keep Winhill off the beaten track."
"Would've been good business for your pub though."
"I've already got my hands full with the locals, thank you very much," she said goodnaturedly. "I'll choose peace and quiet over big city manners any day."
Seifer sent her a smile. "Squall warned me that we might be helping out."
Walking up to her pickup truck that was parked only a small distance away, Ellone let out a soft laugh. "Has he now?" She cast Squall an amused look. "I'm opening the pub tomorrow. I'll close early, but I can't afford to spurn my regulars any more than that on such short notice." Rounding the vehicle, she fiddled with the latches to open the back of the truck bed. "I could use a busboy," she baited when the blond joined her side.
"Certainly, Ma'am." Seifer took the tent from her hold and threw it onto the truck bed, adding his duffel bag and Kronos's case. "I'd be happy to help out at the bar too." He sent her his best flirty smile for good measure.
Wide-eyed for only a second, Ellone brought a hand to her lips to stifle a laugh when she spotted Squall's eye roll as the brunet moved past them to dump his own luggage. "Still a sweet talker, I see," she remarked with a fond gleam to her eyes. "Good thing I'm immune."
Closing up the back of the truck once all luggage had been disposed of, she glanced at the tent she'd carried and the sleeping bags. "I hope you don't think I'll make you camp outside. I'm not that awful a host."
"Squall already told me you've got a room waiting for us. The travel gear is for later. I have an overdue visit with friends near Obel Lake and decided to drag Squall along."
"I remember Squall telling me something like that," she replied, gesturing them to the front of the pickup as she opened the door. "Either way, you're welcome to my guest room for as long as you like." Waiting until both men were seated on the front bench seat beside her, she turned the key in the ignition, switched on the headlights and pulled out.
Seifer watched the fields pass by as they drove out of the small town of Baren Falls. "So, what time do we start tomorrow?"
"Well, I open at eleven, but I made sure all preparations are already over with. I made a fresh batch of soup to last me the coming two days and the pub's all set up for tomorrow," Ellone said affably, her gaze fixed on the dark road ahead. "Business is always slow to pick up anyway, so you guys can sleep in if you want."
"We'll be up by eleven for sure," Seifer said, knowing very well he couldn't stay in bed with Squall all day. "Can't wait to see the place."
"It was in a bad state by the time I returned here, but I cleaned it up nicely. Looks good as new. You know it used to be Raine's right?"
"I didn't," Seifer supplied, glancing sideways at Squall. If the man had any feelings on the matter, then his expression sure didn't show it. He had to admit it made him a hell of a lot more curious about their stay there. "Does Laguna manage to visit often?"
Giving a resigned shrug, Ellone didn't immediately answer. "He's a busy man. Given half the chance, I'm sure he'd be at my doorstep all the time."
"I was surprised he didn't show up at the train station today to join us. He seemed very keen." Seifer's lips curled into a smile at the last word.
Ellone's eyes crinkled in fond amusement. "I could tell from his phone call yesterday. He said he was on the verge of declaring Ward as acting president for a few days."
Seifer laughed, easily imagining it. It was beyond strange to consider this part of Squall's life; a father and sister. Both desperately wanting to include the man in their life. He wished he could've met Raine too. The missing piece of the puzzle.
Looking back over at Ellone, he wondered why she'd decided to pick up Raine's legacy. She must have loved her adoptive mother a lot to go back to the countryside and renovate the woman's pub. "Just how small is Winhill, exactly?"
"Very small," Ellone said, glancing at her big city guest. "We're well below the mark of a thousand inhabitants, if that gives you an idea." Turning off the main road, she drove onto a narrow country road that meandered between low hills. "The village proper isn't more than a few streets and the town square. Then there are the farms on the outskirts, and the flower field owners further out."
"So it's a tight-knit community? Where everybody knows everybody?"
"Pretty much," Ellone said with a nod. "I know it's not for everyone, but I've never felt lonely here the way I did in a city with millions of people."
"I bet owning a pub helps too. I can already imagine all the guys lining up to get served by you." Seifer smiled playfully. "Anyone in particular we should help fend off? ...Or help win over?"
Ellone quirked an eyebrow as she glanced sideways. "Why, Mr. Almasy, with that kind of flattery I doubt I'll be the one fending off admirers."
"You know, I think we should be more worried about the guy over here getting all the attention," Seifer said, nodding in Squall's direction. "It's always the quiet, aloof types that get all the action." Wishing he could openly stake his claim, he had to restrain the urge to move his hand to rest on Squall's thigh.
Eyes shifting briefly to her unimpressed looking brother, Ellone huffed teasingly. "That may be so, but I've learned my lesson from last time. That one isn't meant for the service industry."
"Could've fooled me," Seifer said with a big grin, wishing he could've been a fly on the wall. "What tasks do you have lined up for the Commander then?"
"Oh, I've made a list," Ellone said with a twinkle to her eyes. "Some chores around the house I'd like to see finished before winter starts."
Not in the least bit surprised, Squall met her gaze and repressed the urge to snort at her use of the word 'some'. He'd learned not to underestimate her after his last visit, but considering the alternative was serving drunk farmers, he kept his tongue in check and looked away through the side window. He tuned out Ellone and Seifer's continued chatting, relieved they didn't need his contributions to break the ice and get reacquainted.
Instead he focused on trying to quell his unease at finding himself back on the road to Winhill. He hadn't thought he'd ever come back here. The closer they came, the more palpable his misgivings. He could only hope that Seifer's ability to distract him wouldn't fail tonight. Otherwise he'd never be able to fall asleep in the house once owned by his mother.
With the pickup not as brightly lit as the train had been, he could better make out the landscape that passed them by. Herds of cattle lay unmoving in their pastures, huddled together against the chill of night. A thin fog clung lowly to the fields and meadows, enhancing the stillness of the scenery. Tall trees lined the edges of roads and grazing lands, their leaves still and not betraying even the slightest breeze. Though he couldn't tell for certain in the dark, the countryside had most likely already transformed into a riot of autumn colors.
Squall sighed as he tried and failed to find some appreciation for the view. Everything here was tamed, picketed and tended to.
At some point, without him noticing, the conversation had lulled into silence. It was quiet out here. The only discernible sounds were the ones emitted by Ellone's old pickup, the thing on the verge of dying altogether. The heater whirred gently, the engine giving the occasional sputter as the pickup hobbled along over gravelly country roads.
"Almost there," Ellone announced into the silence, pulling down the main road that would lead them into the heart of Winhill, where the pub was.
Squall felt his mood sink further as he regarded the streets he knew better from Loire's memories than his own. They encountered no lights in any of the houses they passed, the cobbled streets deserted and quiet. Winhill was asleep.
Crossing a wooden bridge into the town's small square, Ellone brought the pickup to a stop in front of the pub and turned off the ignition. "This is it," she said with a smile. "The Sleeping Lion."
Seifer chuckled under his breath as he followed Squall out of the pickup. The sounds of the door shutting behind them rang out loudly into the night. Unable to hide his curiosity, he took in the small cobbled square, lined on three sides with picturesque houses and businesses that looked like they'd been built from stone, loam and wood. The only building of any size was a manor on the north side of the square. A gently murmuring river flowed past a stone quay that was built right off the square's south side.
It was so hard to believe Squall had been born here, the man as far removed from the small village lifestyle as possible. He turned his gaze towards the pub. Just above the entrance hung a dark wooden sign that boasted the pub's name in golden letters. "Did you decide on the name?" he asked Ellone with a quirked eyebrow, before sparing Squall an amused glance. "Or was that Raine?"
"Raine of course. I wouldn't dream of changing the name she chose." Ellone opened the pub's entrance and switched on the lights. "Come on in," she said, herding them inside and gesturing around her as she gave Seifer a quick rundown. "The pub takes up the ground floor. Back there, behind the bar, is the door to the storage room. And everything past the other door, up those stairs, is my home."
Seifer took in the inviting interior of The Sleeping Lion. It looked like the sort of place he'd love to stumble into on a cold winter evening, the place radiating warmth and rustic charm. Sturdy wooden tables and chairs were spread out neatly, polished to a soft glow. Several kegs stood lined up beside the bar, glasses and earthenware pitchers hanging from racks and crowding shelves along with bottles of local brews he didn't recognize. The air was redolent with the earthy scents of tobacco, ale and wood. A far cry from the clubs he was used to. "Looks great."
Ellone returned Seifer's smile with a beaming smile of her own. She was proud of what she'd achieved, but she rarely got to share her home with visitors or loved ones. "This way," she said, leading the way up the stairs that led into her home. It wasn't big and it wasn't fancy, but she'd managed it all on her own.
Coming to a halt in the living area, she cast her guests an appraising look. Squall was predictably withdrawn, and both men seemed weary from their travels. "Would you like something to eat before I show you to your room?" she asked, pointing at the door that led to her small kitchen. "I can heat up some soup, or if you want something more filling, there's bread and cold cuts."
"We ate on the train," Seifer said, remembering the unsatisfying sandwiches they'd picked up during their rushed layover in Timber. Proper food would've been great, but he'd much rather be alone with Squall. The man hadn't said a word during the drive and had grown more ill at ease with each passing second. "And I think I can speak for both of us when I say we need a bed more than anything."
Ellone nodded and left the lights off. "I'll show you to the guest room then," she said before leading them up the next set of stairs. She was trying not to feel disheartened by Squall's continued silence, telling herself excuses on her brother's behalf. He'd had a long trip and was tired. He was worried about the coming day.
She let out an inaudible sigh and faced the truth. He still hated it here. Not letting her sadness show, she turned on the landing's light and moved to open the door to the guest room. "It's all yours. I changed the linen and put out some towels for you guys to use." She pointed down the hall. "Bathroom's on the right. My room's on the left. If you need anything, feel free to knock on my door or help yourself to anything." She gave both men a smile and stepped aside to let them enter. "Make yourselves at home."
Seifer returned Ellone's smile warmly. "We will, thanks," he said, before entering the room.
It looked cozy, with fresh flowers set out on a small side table and potted plants outside on the windowsill. Several pastoral paintings on the walls completed the quaint look. The room's purpose as a guest room was betrayed by a sink and mirror just to the right of the door and a small wardrobe that stood open invitingly with unused hangers. Two single beds lined the walls on either side of the window, plush pillows and duvets making them appear inviting despite their cramped sizes.
"I'll leave you to it then," Ellone said softly from the doorway. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Seifer repeated, waiting for the woman to turn down the hallway before he closed the door. Dumping his stuff behind it, he shrugged out of his jacket and watched as Squall set down his own things beside one of the two beds. Squall still looked withdrawn. Since the moment they'd pulled into Winhill, the man's features had been set into a stark mask. He hadn't anticipated Squall's strong dislike of the place, if that was what it was. Maybe it was the notion of family, but Squall hadn't been this tense back at the palace. It had to be this place. Squall's birthplace.
He walked over to stand right behind the brunet. Squall stilled his movements, but didn't turn to look his way. He slid his hands around Squall's waist and drew him into an embrace. Nuzzling the dark strands of hair at the back of Squall's neck, he spoke softly. "Must be weird as fuck."
Letting out a sigh, Squall leaned back in Seifer's hold and closed his eyes. Like this he could almost pretend they were back at Seifer's apartment, but the occasional creak of the settling building and the different smell to the place ruined the flimsy illusion.
"This room was a nursery once," he said evenly, unable to express the strangeness of the situation any better.
"This very room, huh?" Seifer murmured against Squall's skin. It was difficult to imagine Squall here, an infant, releasing his first cries. With a loving mom, before everything had changed. "Do you miss her?"
Squall snorted at the understandable assumption. It was the way children were supposed to feel about their mothers. "No. How could I? I never knew her."
Reminded of just who he was talking to, Seifer let out a low chuckle and tightened his hold on the man. "Then why do you dislike it here?"
Squall shrugged, unsure how much to admit to. It was difficult enough to put words to the complicated mess of feelings Winhill stirred in him, and others had already told him more than once that he was being unreasonable. "This place… Everyone wants me to care about it, about her, but—" He almost let slip that he was glad he hadn't grown up here, but that particular truth was too ugly to share even with Seifer. "I'll never be the son they want me to be."
"Or brother?"
Letting out an agreeing huff at the astute observation, Squall waited for Seifer to express his opinion on the matter, but the blond didn't say anything else or ask for elaborations. Instead Squall was drawn close against Seifer's body, the hand that had been lying flat against his stomach lifting away to zip his jacket open and caress his chest. Warm lips pressed against his neck in a clear offer of distraction.
The lack of judgment and implied acceptance of that simple gesture were an unexpectedly effective comfort. With Seifer he wasn't anyone's son or brother or even boss. He was simply himself. Relaxing into Seifer's hold more fully than before, he let himself focus on the tension Seifer was sparking in his body until he was starting to feel too hot under the blond's stroking hand. Shrugging out of his jacket, he dropped it on the nearest bed and turned around, back into Seifer's arms.
When Squall's lips sought out his own, Seifer brought his hands up under the soft fabric of Squall's shirt. Squall's focus was no longer turned inward, but right back where it belonged. He kissed Squall more deeply and stroked the man's back. It had been too fucking long. A whole day without anything more than a couple of stolen kisses and a serious case of blue balls. Grabbing the hem of Squall's shirt, he pulled it off and threw it to the bed, his own shirt following seconds later.
Squall's eyes followed his every move as he undid the man's belt and zipper, and slid Squall's pants down slender hips. The moment they dropped to the floor, Squall claimed his mouth again while kicking away his boots and pants. Lowering a hand to cup the man's erection through tight boxer briefs, he brushed his thumb against the tip until a patch of wetness soaked the fabric. His own length stirred in sympathy, a shudder running through Squall's body when he pressed up close and ground into the man.
Certain that Seifer would finally give him everything he'd been denied in FH, Squall took in deep lungfuls of Seifer's scent and felt every last bit of tension in his body melt away. By the time Seifer's fingers hooked underneath his boxers to slip them off, his erection was leaking and straining for attention. He sucked in a tremulous breath when Seifer ended their kiss with a playful nip of teeth at his lower lip, a look of pure sex on Seifer's face as the blond sank down onto his knees and placed a long, messy lick against his erection, from base to tip. His knees buckled at the sight and feel of Seifer guiding him into his mouth, the man's tongue swirling around him while applying firm suction.
He fought to remain upright as the man started into an elaborate display of licks without ever relinquishing his gaze. The visual of his erection framed by Seifer's exploring hands, lips and tongue challenged his endurance to its limits, but Seifer's skill kept him from plunging into an orgasm too quickly. To see Seifer on his knees like this, to hear the wet sounds—
Clenching his jaw to keep from moaning out loud, he twined a hand into Seifer's hair and tugged reflexively when a particularly pleasurable suck overwhelmed him. Seifer growled in approval, the hum of it against his length making his spine go weak. Firming his grip, he couldn't quell the heady rush that surged through him as he stood over Seifer, the man's gaze growing more salacious with every lick and suck.
He was getting close, nearing the point of no return. His balls clenched in warning and he nearly lost his footing as the first shock of orgasm surged through him. Fisting Seifer's hair, he let out a breathless moan as he came into the man's mouth with shuddering pulses. All the while Seifer looked up at him exultantly, sucking and swallowing down every last drop.
Licking his lips clean of any remaining come, Seifer came to a stand. He'd loved every uncontrolled jerk of Squall's hips, every sharp tug on his hair. He'd accomplished his mission, the man's expression no longer marred by tense lines, but he was nowhere near done with Squall yet. Pulling the naked man back in for another kiss, he forced himself to keep his exploration of Squall's lips and tongue unhurried, too achingly slow for how hard he was, but he was determined to take his time and savour this night.
Toeing off his boots, he walked them backwards to the bed and guided Squall to lie down with him without breaking their connection. He moaned into their kiss when Squall moved to straddle him in one smooth motion.
Eager to feel all of Seifer's body pressed against him, skin to skin, Squall leaned back just far enough to make quick work of the man's impeding jeans and boxers. When they were finally discarded onto the floor, he succumbed to a shiver as he lay down on top of Seifer, their naked bodies slotting together perfectly.
Though less urgent than the arousal of sex, it was a feeling that rendered him utterly speechless. Snug, warm and intimate. A feeling of safety even when he was stripped down to his barest self. He hadn't thought it possible to find such a thing in the arms of another, especially not after the uncertainties of the previous night.
One of Seifer's hands traveled up to run through his hair, urging him closer, while the man's other hand kneaded his buttocks with a maddening languor that had him rolling his hips in immediate response. Seifer's cock was hot and hard, pressing against him with slow rutting motions that made him shudder in pleasure, but Seifer didn't pay any heed to his urgency, the man's every move as drawn out as the last. They were kissing so deeply now that he wasn't sure where he was getting the air to breathe.
Enjoying every last moment of their languid making out, Seifer dragged it out until he could no longer ignore his growing need. If they kept this up much longer, he'd end up coming from frottage alone and he was planning on being inside Squall for that. Turning them over in the bed, he couldn't bring himself to interrupt their kiss while reaching for the strap of his duffel bag. Catching hold of it, he blindly located the bottle of lube and smirked against Squall's lips the moment he had it in hand.
Gasping for air when Seifer broke away, Squall felt his length jerk under the blond's hungry gaze. He struggled to stay quiet as the bastard made a show of slowly popping the bottle open and squeezing out a generous helping of the slick gel. Holding his breath, he tried and failed not to startle at the shock of cold lube when Seifer slathered it all over his anus without first warming it between his palms.
The mild stretch of first one finger and then a second wasn't nearly enough to sate him, and he was quickly growing impatient with the unusual amount of time Seifer was spending on preparation. Only when a third finger joined the others, stroking him just right, did he begin to inch closer towards orgasm again, but the touch didn't last long. Seifer moved away again, this time to coat his own erection in slick lube. Squall's anticipation soared at the sight. He only barely had enough presence of mind to remember their whereabouts, and the host who would end up cleaning up after them once they were gone.
"The sheets," he managed in between panting breaths, just as Seifer moved in between his legs.
Letting out a low curse, Seifer scanned the room for something to catch their mess. The towels looked promising but were too far away. No way he was relinquishing his position to grab them. Leaning over the edge of the bed, he reached into his duffel bag again and yanked out the first t-shirt he could get his hands on before shoving it under Squall's ass. The brunet accommodated his every movement readily, raising his legs the moment he was back in position.
It was a fucking sin for anyone to look that Hyne-damned sexy. Propping himself up onto one arm, he leaned in over Squall and grabbed hold of the base of his cock. Squall's face was mere inches away from his own when he pushed inside. Everything was plain for him to see. Every little twitch to dark eyebrows and pale lips. The lust in usually stern eyes. The hunger.
Squall dropped his head back to the pillow with a near groan when Seifer finally filled him to the hilt. There was no sharp ache as he was stretched wide, his body yielding easily to the smooth thrusts of Seifer's cock. Seifer began to take him unhurriedly, a sudden creak of the bed slowing down the man's moves even further. All Squall could do was to meet every thrust with a slight roll of his hips, lest he shake the bed. His every exhale hitched with the effort of breathing without moaning loudly.
The unusual quiet of Seifer's muted grunts, along with his own labored breaths, brought an exhilarating focus to the sex, sharpening all senses. Seifer's heavy lidded gaze bored into him, studying his every reaction as he was left to the mercy of a gradually building climax. His whole body was wound impossibly taut, trapped between need and restraint, until he felt almost shaky with it. His hands traveled every inch of skin within reach, his legs curling back to allow every thrust to hit him as deeply as possible.
Watching closely as Squall unraveled beneath him, Seifer gave himself over to a kind of sex he'd never had before. He wanted everything Squall had to offer. Every sharp intake of air. Every clear sign of arousal. The surrender of pale thighs that spread wider with each thrust. The man had no filter during sex, no defenses. When they were like this, he could see through Squall completely.
This wasn't fucking. Not by a long shot. This was him sharing every part of himself and wanting everything from Squall in return. He hadn't even kissed Squall after he'd pushed inside, too entranced. Capturing Squall's hands, he pushed them down against the bed and interlaced their fingers, quickly growing drunk on the feel of Squall's fingers clenching around his own every time he thrust into the man.
Holding on tightly, he didn't want this to end. He was getting close now, but he wanted to stay like this. No tomorrow, no end, just this. The honesty of Squall's body pressed close to his, taking everything he had to give. He kissed Squall then, his climax claiming him with a violent shudder.
Squall gasped into their kiss, lost to the sensations of Seifer's orgasm. A sudden quick swelling, a hard thrust and the rush of ejaculate. His breath trembled against Seifer's lips as he bucked for more. The ensuing slickness was better than lube, the sound of Seifer's blissed out grunts filling him with satisfaction. He tugged at the hold on his hands, looking to grab the man's ass and encourage more movement, but Seifer's grasp only tightened.
Reveling in that small, possessive move, Squall had to bite back his moans as Seifer started to settle into a purposeful rhythm, the man's cock still hard within him. Even now, green eyes gave him nowhere to hide. Locking gazes, he let Seifer watch as the man brought him to completion. His orgasm shocked from him with breathless gasps, his world spinning away. It was Seifer's lips that brought him back down to earth, drawing him into a searing kiss.
Caressing Squall's body with slow slides of his hands, Seifer refused to relinquish the man's soft lips for several long moments before he finally broke their kiss and stared at the man in his hold. Drawn in by the depths of gray-blue eyes, he was suspended in a moment of absolute transfixion. He lifted his hand to stroke his thumb lightly against Squall's jawline, then across Squall's lower lip, savouring every little detail of the man before him. Squall's expression only betrayed acceptance, no annoyance or impatience in response to his intimate touches. Growing bolder, he moved his finger to slowly trace the scar that marred the man's forehead, from top to bottom. The uneven skin would always mark Squall as his. Always. Even if they couldn't be together.
Lying still under Seifer's touch, Squall held his breath as he tried to parse the expression on Seifer's face. No one touched that scar but himself, and whenever he did, he irrevocably thought of Seifer. It was beyond strange to have Seifer caress the very same line the man had cut into his skin so long ago. He wasn't entirely sure why his throat felt like it might close up, but the intensity of the moment passed when Seifer's hand moved to cup his cheekbone instead, those deft fingers carding through his hair until they rested at the back of his head.
The breath he had been holding rushed from him just as Seifer kissed him again. For a short time Seifer's lips and warm hands kept him mired in the simple pleasure, but discomfort kept plucking at the edges of his awareness. Seifer's come was starting to leak from him, but more pressingly, his legs started to cramp up with the need to stretch them out.
"Let me up," he said, his voice inexplicably hoarse when he hadn't uttered a single sound.
When Seifer let go of his hands and started to lean back, he quickly wound his arms around Seifer's shoulders before the man could slide out of him. Catching on, Seifer rocked them back into a sitting position with a bunching of strong thighs. Squall sighed at the relief in his lower back and gave his legs a quick stretch, before wrapping them around Seifer's waist and settling in the man's lap. He let his hands roam where they willed, for once unconcerned with the fact that there was no purpose to these touches.
Holding Squall tightly against him, Seifer was beyond pleased that Squall had been unwilling to let him go. There was still the underlying burn of arousal, his cock still buried deep within the man, but this was so much more. Something he'd never wanted in the past, but couldn't get enough of now.
Squall looked down into Seifer's face, his heart starting to thud faster at how the blond was regarding him. He'd seen that look before, on Rinoa. Afraid to make any assumptions, at the same time afraid it wasn't what he thought, he quickly placed his hands on either side of Seifer's face and kissed his own uncertainties away. Too much had been left unsaid, and there was a tension between them, charged with impending change. As if they were standing in the eye of a storm. He realized he was clinging to Seifer, but he tried to push the returning thoughts from his mind. He didn't want to think. He only wanted this. Uncurling his legs, he planted his feet on the bed and began a slow, tentative motion of his hips.
A low grunt left Seifer at the renewed friction along his length. He closed his eyes, his hands moving to Squall's sides. Every time Squall sank down onto his length, he met the man with a slow roll of his own hips. Squall's cock grew rigid between them; the man's kisses deepened. They fell into a perfect rhythm, neither of them ready to let go. They would stay like this, locked together and as close as possible for the rest of the night. He would make sure of it.
~ o ~