Seifer's fingers gently skittered down the vertebrae of Squall's back, the light touch exploring each little bump as they moved lower and lower.
"Why?" Seifer asked idly. The brunet beside him didn't stir, nor did he speak, leaving Seifer's question unanswered. That was all right, though; he hadn't really been expecting one. He leaned down and brushed Squall's hair from his neck, placing a kiss there.
"You need a haircut."
"Hn," Squall grunted in agreement, shifting slightly on the bed. His legs spread ever so slightly, and the grin on Seifer's lips grew exponentially at the unspoken invitation.
"Why? Why me, I mean?" Seifer asked again, clarifying his earlier question. He had more than enough ego to think highly of himself, but the Ice Prince of Balamb didn't let anyone in.
"You see me," Squall snorted. "Now shut up and fuck me."