Author's Notes: Oh God. Oh God, yes. XD Seifer/Squall has always been my number one OTP and I've finally found the time to write another oneshot about them. It's all thanks to my lovely beta, Hyogen. This is a birthday present to you. Thanks for everything, Aya-chan.

And holy, am I ever not able to just write porn. Nope, sir, my porn oneshots end up 10,000 words long! - le sigh -. Oh, well. At least then you can't call this a total PWP... I think.

Porniest porn I've ever written, though. Just warning you. ^^

Well, here we goers!

Oh, and... not mine, yaoi and hard M, obviously.

Escape the Sun

A Seifer/Squall Oneshot for Hyogen

Seifer had been half-expecting Squall to just slam the door right into his face.

That wasn't what the stoic brunet ended up doing when he opened the door and realized who it was; mostly because he seemed far too surprised to come up with a plan of action at the top of his head. Judging from the drawn-out groan and the way he'd shuffled to the door, he'd been expecting it to be Quistis or any of his other precious friends. Seifer mentally referenced what Quistis had told him about Squall's state - a mess, she'd called, her voice clipped but a little strained, as though they'd been hiding the pain lurking underneath - and concluded that, considering she was the Trepe, she hadn't exaggerated too much.

Seifer flipped his fingers to his crown in a salute. "Yo, Squall. Been a while." He let his hand drop and added in true and tried Almasy style, "Dude, you look like shit."

The truth was he didn't, not really, but then Seifer wasn't going to say that. Although Seifer would never admit it to anyone, he was secretly convinced it was downright impossible for the stoic SeeD to look truly bad. He had still changed in some ways, though - the last time Seifer had seen him, his cheeks had still been soft with baby fat; now he had lost it all, but instead of toughening him up, it seemed to have only carved away and Seifer couldn't decide whether it was only because of the bleary yellow light from the Garden hallway that his cheeks were sallow beneath his eyes. What was familiar was the white shirt he donned - he always used to wear shirts like these under his jacket - but what was less so were his collarbones jutting up in sharp relief against his shoulders.

In most other regards, he had changed little. Squall's hair was still the same wealth of silky auburn hair that curled gently to frame his face. His eyes were still hard like slate-tinted glass and the defiance smoldering in them was still as clear and cutting as it had always been. Said eyes narrowed in reply to his statement and when they did, Seifer could practically feel the temperature around them drop.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Squall seethed, inspecting Seifer like the blond was an insect in a jar that was to be crucified and put on display. When Seifer didn't give an immediate reply, Squall crossed his arms over his chest and looked at him so hatefully that Seifer was once again baffled by the fact that his nose hadn't made intimate acquaintance with the surface of Squall's steel door yet.

Seifer was up to meet the challenge, however. He cocked his head slightly, smirk on his face. "Not gonna greet a friend you haven't seen in years?"

Squall's eyes were probing him for the catch. When he found none, he decided to skip the pleasantries. "Why are you here?"

Like many stories, this one had started with a phone call.

At approximately eight o'clock in the morning the previous day, when the shriek of the phone had awoken him and he'd bitten a rude, "What?" into the receiver, Quistis had been on the other end of the line. Seifer hadn't yet known then what she wanted, but he had known that whatever it was she wanted was likely to put an end to his current life of selling souvenirs to tourists and getting stoned with Fujin and Raijin in his basement. Quistis appeared to have changed even less than Squall had; she'd wasted no time on pleasantries and cut straight to the chase. What she'd said hadn't terribly surprised him.

He'd listened to her grudgingly admit to needing him, then quietly asking him to come back to Garden. He'd asked in mock-surprise what they would need someone as tarnished as him for, especially after they had done such a marvelous job at pretending he no longer existed for the past two years. The silence following that question had confirmed his suspicions regarding the precise subject of the unexpected call.

It was a bit boastful, perhaps, to say that he had known that it would never work out - but even so, he had guessed correctly when he'd asked whether the dear maiden had eloped ("Haha, she fucking dumped him, didn't she?"). Quistis's silence had spoken volumes and while he'd been in the middle of an self complacent tirade about the Golden Boy no longer being his responsibility, he'd noticed that he'd already shrugged his jacket over and grabbed his car keys from the bedside table.

Upon arrival, Quistis had called him to her office and warned him about the state the world's favorite hero was in. Seifer had really only half-listened; he'd been busy grinning at the stack of neatly-bound bills she'd slipped into his pocket, nodding along to Quistis droning on about 'emotional trauma' and 'shock'. His attention had only really returned to Quistis when she had asked him to 'please knock Squall out of his stupor'. At the word 'knock', a belligerent expression had slipped into place on Seifer's face and he'd asked her about the exact terms and rules of his involvement with raised eyebrows and a smirk on his lips. Quistis had sent a distasteful glance down to Hyperion before she'd admitted to possibly needing intervention of the physical variety, as well. Seifer had laughed at that.

And that was how he'd ended up coming back to the one place he'd never wanted to visit again. Pathetic enough all by its own right, it was increasingly becoming obvious that he had only come to get stared at by the very man he had been called to help like he was far more inclined to try to burn a hole through his skull than cooperate with him.

"Got a call from Quistis. Told me you'd been in a funk." He paused, raising one eyebrow. "You sure look it."

Squall snorted incredulously. "I do not."

Seifer gave him a pointed look. "Fuck, you're skinnier than Dincht's cock."

Squall raised an eyebrow. "And how would you know about the girth of Zell's endowment?"

Seifer opened his mouth to sneer at Squall, realized he didn't know what to say and just closed his mouth again, opting for just crossing his arms over his chest instead. "I just... know these things."

Squall pressed his palm against his face in irritation. Another habit he hadn't yet broken. "...Go away."

"Oh, I'd love to." Seifer, crossing his ankles and resting one forearm against the wall, leaned into Squall. While Squall silently glared at him in reply, Seifer noticed that he still smelled of leather and mahogany like he always had. He felt like he could almost hear the buzz of the tension going up as their eyes interlocked and they resumed the silent war they had been fighting since before either of them could remember. "But unfortunately I've made her promise to at least try. And I will." He let his eyes drop to Squall's mouth for just a second, seeing that it was hanging open a bit, glistening underneath the glare of the light. Upon realizing what he was doing, Seifer delved his eyes back into Squall's. "It's the least I can do."

With that, he removed his frame from Squall's private space, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans and drawled with as much nonchalance as he could muster, "So, wanna fight, Puberty Boy?"

Squall pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose and clenched his eyes shut. "Go, Seifer. Just... go."

Some part of Seifer was pleased with this development - with a cocky grin on his face, he shifted his weight on his heels, regarding Squall with obvious amusement etched into his features. "So, Quistis tells me you've become quite the loner since she left. Said something about how you have barely left the room and have gotten even scrawnier."

Squall stared at him blankly. "Seifer..."

Seifer had always liked the way Squall said his name. He always said it the way it was supposed to be pronounced - tongue pressing up against the hard palate, then lips dropping into a purse - but this time, he said it warily, like he was barely remembering his name.

Something in Seifer's chest twitched at that, but outwardly, he only grinned. "You haven't gotten rusty yet, I hope."

Squall tensed. "Fuck you." It was the kind of insult delivered with so much quiet assurance and controlled hatred that it stung deeper than any yell or snort or scream. It was the kind of tone people used when they really meant it.

He had changed a little after all, Seifer amended. The Squall he'd known, while not being one to go out of his way to pursue challenges, had never been one to even think about ditching an honest one. While everyone else's comments had always rolled off of Squall like water off a duck's back, Seifer's had always been able to slip past his defenses and wreak their havoc beyond. But despite their fights and quarrels and the way he'd been able to elict reactions from the stoic brunet with a few well-timed jabs, it hadn't ever been hatred between them. Not really. He had known that and the old Squall had known it just as well.

This Squall, though, was darker than the one he'd known - like someone had taken away his light and drawn a blanket of darkness over the remains.

Seifer cocked his head and pursed his lips into a smirk, then bent down to bring their eyes to an even level. His voice was low and controlled. "Although now that she's gone, I suppose you're not getting as much of a work-out as you used to."

Even before Squall's hand shot out and grasped Seifer by the front of his shirt, Seifer could tell by the way the storm inside his eyes flared up that it had worked. Before, his eyes had looked like a rainy sky the moment before the storm unleashed; now, they were glittering, alive, emotions smoldering threateningly in their depths. Seifer was jerked forward, those stormy eyes racing toward him as though attempting to drown Seifer in them. He could feel Squall's breath on his face now, hot and damp.

"What did you say?" Squall's voice was dangerous, the hiss of a cornered rat.

The smirk never left Seifer's face. "You heard me very well, Squall."

For a moment, Squall held his glare and silent messages passed between them. Then Squall blinked, as though only now realizing what he'd allowed himself to do. He clumsily disentangled his hand from Seifer's shirt and took a step back, running one hand through his hair in obvious exasperation.

Seifer lifted one hand to cup Squall's cheek, but Squall moodily ripped his hand away. When Squall's fingernails bit into Seifer's palms, he tore his hand out of Squall's grasp, skeptical smirk on his face.

"You're not a lifeless corpse yet after all, then."

Something seemed to return to Squall. He straightened his back, furrowed his eyebrows and the familiar look of competitiveness rushed back onto his features. "So, it's fighting you're after?"

Seifer shrugged his broad shoulders, then leaned back against the doorway. "Show me what you got, Puberty Boy. Don't think I can whoop the floor with your ass?" He brought his face just a little bit closer. "I believe we still have a score to settle."

And for a moment, just one moment only, Squall seemed to consider refusing, seemed like he was teetering on the edge to just slam the door shut and go back to hiding in his rooms where no one could reach him. For just a moment, the resolve wavered.

And then it solidified into a challenging expression and, without another word, he stormed back into the room to shrug into his leather jacket and rummage in his closet for Lionheart and when he re-emerged seconds later, ready for battle, he looked like the first layer of the fa├žade that had been obscuring the warrior beneath had splattered away.

And Seifer grinned wider.

Ordinarily, the Training Center would have been the preferred choice of location, but given how countless Garden students roamed about the green terrain at all times of the night and day, Squall had quickly dismissed the option, insisting that they go somewhere where they could 'settle their scores once and for all'. Despite his best efforts to stay nonchalant, Seifer had felt a shiver burn down his spine at the unspoken threat riding atop the controlled tone of his voice, but had been able to cover it up. He had expected Squall to lead him to the parking lot or even the cockpit that lay deserted since the Garden had settled back into its original position near Balamb Town, but he had not expected to follow him and be led into a spacious room on the other end of the corridor.

Upon spilling inside, Squall flipped on the light switcht, revealing a spacious, but mostly empty room in the far corner of which was a large closet stocking weapons behind see-through glass. Seifer could see that the walls were cushioned and even felt like he could sense Odine's magic-suppressing signature in the air. Apart from that, it was almost reminiscent of a hospital or a morgue and it was only when he thought that that the gears in Seifer's head clicked into place and he finally realized just where this was.

"Whoa. Garden Commanders get their own private training rooms now?"

Squall just gave him a look and wordlessly slid into his usual warm-up routine.

Seifer was still amazed. "I knew I shouldn't have quit SeeD. Damn, your own training room?!"

"It's not just mine," Squall bit, avoiding Seifer's eyes. "Garden gained popularity... after...." He struggled with his words; it seemed like he had reduced his annual word quota by yet another couple of thousand words since Rinoa had left him - a pity, since Seifer had always rather liked the sound of Squall's voice. "After... time compression... so we have a training room where SeeDs can spar."


Outwardly, Seifer only raised an eyebrow. "Didn't want to go to the Training Center to avoid an audience, did you? Didn't want everyone to see you losing, did you?" His voice was rather neutral, but the way he cocked his head gave away the condescending intent.

Squall stopped doing his exercise and narrowed his eyes at Seifer. "It would attract a crowd. And seeing as how this is our final settlement..."

Seifer picked up on the underlying threat. "So you're saying you'll fight me to death, or what?"

"That is not what I said." His voice was still emotionless.

On some level, Seifer was enjoying this. "Yet you did imply that our fight would be unsuitable for an audience."

Was it possible to get frostbite from glares? "Unlike you, I still have a reputation to uphold."

Seifer could feel his own temper stirring awake now. "What the fuck, Squall?" He covered his temper outburst with a chuckle that softened his next words. "You're too prim and proper to admit in public that you raise to my taunts?"

It wasn't that Seifer really wanted to hurt Squall, or had ever desired to the many previous times he had ambushed him with a challenge. Not really. It was just that insults and taunts had always been both the language Squall understood best and the only one Seifer spoke with fluency.

It had always been like this: if the heat in the room rose, they would both burn in its fury. If one got angry, the other would inevitably mirror it. Like a double-edged lance had been placed between their chests, they could not make advances toward each other without pressing the tip of the weapon into their own chests as well.

It was no different then. Seifer could see the anger; the twitch in Squall's eye was a dead give-away. "This is between you and me, Seifer, not for the whole world to see."

Seifer smiled thinly, gripped Hyperion and then, spontaneously, decided that this talking business had gone on for long enough. Without another word of warning, he raised his weapon and brought it down in a quick slash.

Squall gasped in surprise, but managed to parry Seifer's hit with his own gunblade; the noise of metal hitting metal was loud and jarring in the air. Squall's eyes were widened and he took a hasty step back, dodging another one of Hyperion's hits. Seifer noticed with glee that, while he had not used Hyperion much in the past two years, it still felt familiar, felt good, the slashes still as smooth and lethal as he remembered, the weapon still like an extension of his own hand. At least Hyperion was an old friend who hadn't changed.

Squall was talking. "We..." Seifer slashed at his feet and Squall dodged the hit with a jump. "We... haven't discussed the-" Clash. "-rules yet!"

"Rules?" Seifer repeated as though hearing the word for the first time. "We never had any of those, Puberty Boy."

And so Squall, with another frown, accepted the challenge and threw himself into the battle.

During their fights, their pulse of thought dropped to everything reactionary and sensory. They always gave themselves over to their reactions, their well-worn, age-old instincts so completely and entirely that scarcely a rational thought managed to ever drown out the wail of the adrenaline long enough to make itself known.

But this time, Seifer could hear a few thoughts ringing in his ears clearly.

(Squall gave a low cry and attacked; when Seifer parried, he felt the shock down to his bones).

That Squall looked perhaps the most beautiful when he was fighting, for example. That, with his hair in disarray, sweat pearling on his upper lip, leather jacket billowing around him with every turn and sidestep and pirouette, he looked lively and energetic. That, really, a big reason why he'd continuously challenged Squall, why he had focused his attention so squarely on Squall, had been because he, Seifer, really... loved to see him this way. Squall, who seemed like an untouchable marble statue most of his waking hours, morphed into someone entirely reachable when locked in the heat of battle.

(Sparks of brilliant silver as their gunblades met).

There was also another thought, a more dangerous one. That beyond rivalry and hatred and competition and envy, there had always been -

(Seifer managed to throw Squall off balance with one hit and he pounced on him. He let go when Squall rammed his elbow into his stomach and danced our of reach once more).

There had always been -

(Blow after blow crashed against Hyperion and sent dull repercussions through his bones. Then something flashed in Squall's eyes and Seifer saw the light skidding across the surface of the blade as it came down and -)

And the pain, a flare of agony. Fire lapped at his arm as Squall's gunblade came down and the very tip of it slashed Seifer's forearm. Droplets of crimson sailed through the air, then splattered morbidly against the white tiles. Although Seifer instinctively knew that the cut had only been very shallow and would close up quickly, he let out a roar, avalanche of anger burying the remaining bits of thought.

Doubt now rushed onto Squall's face. He opened his mouth and his voice seemed to come from so far away when he said, "Sei -"

The burning, dull throb that his arm had become demanded attention, but he paid it no mind as he raced toward Squall, saw his eyes widening in shock for just a second before -

The impact knocked the wind out of Seifer's lungs and his ears got bombarded with not only Squall's gasp, but also the harsh sound of gunblades clattering to the floor. Squall was flung backward as Seifer lunged at him and Seifer slumped against Squall's chest the minute the brunet's back connected with the wall. Once the tremors of the impact had subsided enough for Seifer's senses to return to him, he noticed several things all at once.

The first thing he noticed was that Squall smelled of adrenaline and spicy sweat and that his body was hot and shivering pressed up so closely against his. The second thing he noticed was that Squall had banged his head against the wall upon impact and looked somewhat dazed - mouth hanging open, eyes unfocused, pink dusted over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. The third and likely most devastating thing that Seifer noticed was that Squall looked very much like he was in ecstasy and that that was... pretty hot.

And then, of course, Squall came to his senses and struggled against Seifer and pushed his hips forward. His pretty blue-gray eyes widened.

Oh. Oh!

For a moment, Squall was at an obvious loss for word, just opening and closing his mouth as though the idea of his childhood rival becoming aroused in such a situation was incomprehensible. The surprised expression dropped into a scowl. "The fuck, Seifer?"

Well, there was no point in denying it. He flashed his canines when he said, "Surprised, Squall?"

Squall looked like he would have facepalmed if Seifer wasn't standing so close that he would definitely have brushed against him if he had raised his hand. Instead, he settled on subjecting Seifer to one of the most venomous frowns the blond had had to witness yet. "You're disgusting, Seifer."

Squall glared at him and Seifer could see his lower lip quivering and a pink tongue darting out to lick over it, leaving a glistening sheen behind. He was nervous, Seifer could tell; from the way his eyes twitched and his adam apple's bobbed, from the way the expression on his face seemed to be wavering between utter disorientation and intuitive disgust - and, of course, from the way Squall let out a gasp and tensed when Seifer put his hands on either side of his face, leaned down and mashed their lips together in a kiss that was born out of lingering desire as much as it was out of desperation.

He didn't know why he did it, not really, but when he realized he had done it, it was already too late, so he decided to push forward. When Squall's mouth opened to cry out, Seifer seized the chance to pierce the impending scream with his tongue. For a moment, Squall froze against him, mouth hanging open in what had to be pure shock. Seifer took the chance to explore, to stroke the other man's tongue with his own, to sample the taste of his saliva. He didn't get very far in his exploration before Squall, with a groan, slammed both of his fists against Seifer's chest. Although Squall was smaller, he was exceedingly strong and the punches made Seifer wheeze and take a step back.

"What the hell are you doing, Seifer?" Squall barbed. One of his hands flew to his mouth, where they began to rub his lips as though trying to get rid of the taste while the rest of him - eyebrows furrowed, jaw tightly locked and seemingly every muscle in his body tensed - spoke of a complicated mix of a emotions Seifer could not quite place and that sparked a small tremor of regret inside Seifer that he couldn't smother and stomp out fast enough.

He tried, though. Seifer erected himself to his full height. "What? We've had it coming for years now." He nodded to his arm and added sarcastically, "And no, I don't need to go to the infimary for that. Thanks for asking."

Squall shook his head. His body seemed like every single muscle wanted to crawl away from Seifer. "You haven't changed much, I see."

"I have. And so have you. But, the thing is that the game between us hasn't changed, only the rules have."

Squall seemed like he had heard enough and wasn't willing to listen any longer. He nodded to Lionheart on the floor, then narrowed his eyes at Seifer. "Aren't we fighting? Didn't we come here to end this game once and for all? And instead you - you!" He ran his hand through his hair exasperatedly. "You -!"

We still are fighting, Squall. We haven't stopped since the day we met. But not for the reason you think.

Instead of saying that, Seifer only crossed his arms over his chest. "I kissed you, Squall. Just say it. The words don't bite."

The tension was so thick Seifer was half-surprised neither of them had choked on it yet.

Squall's right eye twitched, but the words he said next were delivered with such finality that, for just one moment, Seifer felt his heart sink. "You're still sadistic."

And it stung. Way more than Squall would ever know, could ever know. "What's the matter, Squall?" Seifer murmured. The right side of his face pulled his lips into a lopsided grin, but it was a fake grin, one that, had he been able to see himself, he would have noticed didn't reach his eyes. "Did she dump you because you were a prude?"

A hiss. "Leave Rinoa out of this."

Seifer raised an eyebrow. "Or what? You know..." Although Seifer had grown a lot as a person during the past two years, he realized that, whenever it came to Squall, Seifer still couldn't come up with any strategy other than to push and push and keep pushing. "I knew she would dump you. I've always known it. You were never right for each other. You and her, Squall, it wasn't ever going to work. You're not who she needs and she isn't who you need. She wanted you to be whatever she wanted you to be, didn't she? Wanted you to be her little doll, didn't she? But, newsflash, you can't." He paused, his tone having gotten serious, contemplative. "You can't, because you're Squall, and you're a fucking dick and you always have been and you always will be. You will never change and -"

And he didn't get to finish his speech because it was right then that Squall's fist flew toward him and smashed against his nose. Seifer knew it wasn't broken, but that didn't stop white-hot demons of pain to shoot through his nervous system and neither did it keep blood from trickling out of his nostrils and falling to the floor where it gleamed under the glare of the electric light. Seifer was thrown back, but caught his weight before he crashed to the floor. His hands flew to his throbbing nose and came away stained with crimson, but he had no time to tend to his injuries.

Squall was upon him, one fist clenched around the fabric of Seifer's trenchcoat while the other was poised in the air, coming toward Seifer slowly like a slideshow of doom. His full lower lip was caught between his teeth in anger and frustration and his eyes were so close they were shining now, actually shining. Seifer instinctively threw up his arms to block a hit that never came.

Before Seifer could react or even so much as think about it, Squall had, in one heartwrenching moment during which he seemed to come to a hasty decision, jerked him forward and instead of knocking Seifer's teeth out with his fist, had instead pressed his lips firmly against Seifer's in a breathless kiss.

And for a moment, Seifer completely froze as the tables had been turned on him and Squall was writhing against him, hand already slipping under his trenchcoat and sliding it off of his shoulders, eager now, demanding now. Along with the fabric falling off of his form, Seifer's willpower and control were discarded as Seifer felt Squall's tongue nudging his mouth open. With a groan, Seifer opened his mouth and met Squall's tongue midway.

Seifer could feel a small shudder pass through Squall's body as their tongues clashed messily and started moving against each other, making wet noises that were accompanied by Squall's breathy little moans and Seifer's impatient groans. Distorted voices rang in Seifer's head, some of them commenting on how unbelievable it was that he had gotten Squall to initiate the kiss, but most of them spewing garbled nonsense and then fading out completely as Squall urged him closer, pressing his smaller body tightly against his. Squall was more aggressive than Seifer had expected - his hands sneaked under Seifer's shirt and ran over his bare skin; his hips ground against his in slow, long movements accompanied by high-pitched little groans and Squall's tongue wrestled his with mounting urgency.

Their tongues swirled around each other, half of Seifer's tongue in Squall's mouth and half of Squall's in Seifer's, saliva messily trailing down their chins. Seifer let his hand trail down over the leather of Squall's jacket to his ass and squeezed him, causing Squall to open his mouth in surprise and allowing Seifer to push back Squall's tongue. As Seifer continued to knead Squall's bottom and ground his clothed erection against the smaller man's - huh, you've gotten hard too now, haven't you? - Squall's mouth went slack. It took Seifer a while to realize that it was his way of allowing Seifer complete reign over his mouth.

Seifer pushed his tongue in as far as it could go, rubbing the length of it against Squall's own, which was writhing and rolling up against Seifer's. Seifer noticed that Squall's tongue was quite a bit larger than a woman's and that the texture was rougher, but that it felt extremely arousing. The times Seifer had kissed women, it had been sweet, romantic, even - this kiss, however, was devoid of any sentimentalism. Every jab of Seifer's tongue knowingly simulated penetration and the way their tongues moved together was like two bodies feverishly pounding into each other at the height of climax. From the way Squall was writhing and rolling his hips, Seifer could tell that the brunet was very aware of it, as well.

Squall's mouth tasted good, but it took Seifer a while to place the taste before his brain spontaneously supplied that it was most like molasses: slight bittnerness covered by overwhelming sweetness.

When Seifer felt like he was going to suffocate from the kiss, he broke free from Squall's mouth with a gasp, both of them panting heavily and their hot breaths ghosting over each other's faces as they stared out of wide eyes.

Seifer wanted to say so much then; some of the things stupid, others corny, but all of them sincere. But he only thinned his lips into a tight line and said nothing, because he knew that if he did, he'd break the moment, dispel the magic that had taken them into its void or, worse, stir awake the side of Squall that so excelled at suppressing every emotion and every sign of sexual desire.

A shudder passed through Squall as Seifer bent down to dive into the nape of his neck and captured some of the sensitive skin on Squall's neck between his teeth. Seifer could feel a shiver racing down the ladder of Squall's spine as the blond began to suck and lick. Squall's hands, which he had placed on Seifer's pectorals, froze, then gripped him tighter as Squall's body tensed at the sensation. As small moans ripped out of Squall's throat at the persistent stimulation, Seifer realized that Squall's neck was one of his erogenous zones. He continued to nibble and bite and when he buried his tongue between Squall's collarbones, an intense rush of power shook through Seifer's body at the realization of just how intimate it was to be able to feel Squall's heartbeat insistently pulsing against his tongue, how vulnerable Squall was, even if for just one moment...

"Sei - Seifer..." Squall mumbled, but Seifer was unable to discern whether it was an encouraging or a displeasing sound. His hands slid from Squall's back to his chest, pushing Squall's leather jacket down his shoulders. Seifer dully thought that a lot of how he imagined Squall to be like in bed seemed to be correct so far - he really seemed to be rather submissive, and he really was quite vocal.

Seifer had always expected Squall to enjoy being dominated. He had seen in the other boy's attitude toward school and love and life in general and had concluded that, while responsibility wasn't something the brunet shyed away from, he was likely to stress out when burdened with copious amounts of it and rather prefered to live hidden from the searching gazes of others. People like Squall, Seifer had always known, were likely to be natural submissives in bed.

What Squall did next sort of contradicted that idea, though. Squall started tugging insistently on Seifer's shirt, urging him to take it off and Seifer obliged, throwing his shirt on the floor once he'd peeled the sleeves off his arms and revealing his smooth, bare skin. Squall's eyes were eager as they sped across Seifer's chest, but Seifer gave him no time to drink in his form as he pressed his body against Squall's again and made the smaller man take a few steps backward until his back was pressed against the wall. Cupping Squall's ass, Seifer lifted him up against his chest, but dropped him immediately as fiery hot pain flared up on his forearm. Oh right, the cut - he had almost forgotten about the wound, but now it decided to pulse back into his mind with insistency.

Seifer grimaced and stepped back a little, examining the shallow cut on his arm - but before he even got a chance to react, Squall, with an unreadable expression on his face, had already bent down and firmly pressed his lips against the cut, hot tongue darting out to lick over it.

Along with Squall's tongue nudging into his wound, interwoven tongues of pain, comfort and lust licked at Seifer's insides. For a moment, he allowed Squall to suck on his wound, to let his tongue run along the cut, to sample the blood that was oozing out of there and -


"The fuck, Squall!" Seifer hissed, grabbing Squall by the shoulder and trying to push him away, but he continued to stab into his wound now, biting his arm, even, as though actually trying to -

- to get more blood?!

Ripping Squall's head away from his wound, Seifer glared at him, but his eyes soon softened at the... rather erotic sight of Squall with a blood-smeared mouth. They were exchanging the full weight of heat glazing their eyes. They didn't move for a moment; the pain in Seifer's arm dulled to a throb and then faded out completely. They held onto the stillness, enjoying the tension of tightly reined lust, enjoying the thrill of holding back enough to make their desire into a craving, a physical ache that needed to be filled and -

- and Squall lunged at him, crushed himself against Seifer's chest and kissed him, and in the same moment Seifer automatically buried his hands in Squall's web of silky hair, the taste of metal exploded on Seifer's tongue. They engaged in another open-mouthed kiss, sighing and moaning. They rolled the blood around on their tongues, passing it back and forth between their mouths and feeling some of it slip out and trailing down their chins, but they were coupling their lips and tongues with such demand that when the blood was gone, they scarcely noticed and just continued kissing.

After a while, Seifer breathlessly tore his mouth off of Squall's, pulling a pink rope of mixed saliva and blood between them. He started tearing at Squall's shirt, eager to feel more of his warm bare skin. Squall, at first, seemed almost too dazed to realize what Seifer was asking of him, but when he did, he complied, letting Seifer watch as inch after inch of skin was revealed. He really had gotten thinner, Seifer noticed - dark smudges on his torso marked his ribs when he stretched and the abdominal muscles underneath the skin of the flat plane of his stomach contracted visibly as Squall pulled off the shirt over his head - but he still looked fit, still looked healthy; he had the thin and elegant body of a dancer. Seifer hugged the other man, feeling the bumps of his vertebrae and unconsciously counting the ribs as he let his hands roam over Squall's body. Squall's skin was hot and with so much naked flash exposed, the smell of his skin - mahogany, soap, adrenaline and the faintest odor of spicy sweat that wasn't entirely unpleasant - was nearly overwhelming. Squall continued to give quietly encouraging moans as Seifer bit his shoulders, then switched to little hums as Seifer traced his collarbones with his tongue. Squall made his first somewhat protesting noise only when Seifer unceremoniously dropped to his knees and started tugging at Squall's belt.

The protest soon died down, however, as Seifer yanked out the belt, sent it flying across the room and then tweaked the buttons undone. Seifer felt another shiver go through Squall as he was left standing there dressed in nothing but his black pair of boxershorts.

A smirk wound itself around Seifer's lips and he looked up at Squall, meeting his eye. A curtain of messy auburn bangs obscured part of his face, but the gleam of the gray orbs beyond was stark and intoxicating. Their eyes met, melted into each other as they probed each other. Since they had begun making out, not a single word had been spoken, not a single message been relayed or received; they had acted on pure instinct, feeding their desires with their hands and tongues and mouths. Now, they were waiting and for what, Seifer didn't quite know; what he did know, though, was that Squall wouldn't stop him.

He could tell that Squall was visibly wavering between being scared out of his mind and passing out from excitement. The muscles of his arms, abdomen and thighs were protruding in tightly-wired tension, his ribcage was expanding in jagged breaths that hitched out of his throat. He wanted this, there was no need to verbalize it.

Seifer grinned and severed the eye contact, letting his eyes swirl back to the task at hand. He hooked his fingers under the waistband of Squall's boxers and then pulled it down in an excrutiatingly slow manner, enjoying the way Squall's frustration took on nearly corporeal form as the blond man took all the time in the world to slide the fabric down his hips. Squall's breath hitched audibly as the waistband of his boxers got caught between his lower abdomen and his erection and Seifer gently rolled the underwear down over it, revealing first the mushroomed head, then the shaft and then the entirety of it.

Squall sucked in his breath.

After a long moment of staring at Squall, Seifer looked up to meet Squall's eyes, grin on his face. "So - what do you want me to do now?"

Squall's eyes widened in surprise. "W-What?"

Seifer had almost forgotten how fun things like these could be! "You heard me. What do you want me to do?" The grin on his face was tainted black with mischief. "Say it."

For a moment, Squall bit his lip. "I-I want you to- to... " He rolled his eyes. "Oh, fuck you."

"I'm listening," Seifer said in a sing-song voice.

Squall scowled and Seifer could see some of the arousal draining out of him. Well, he would work on rectifying that in a minute - first, he'd hear him say it.

Squall took a deep breath. "I want you to - to s-suck my dick. Suck my dick, Seifer."

And in the pricks and needles that followed that statement, Seifer only continued to smile. Seconds passed and Squall's face darkened in a visual display of irritation, but before he got the chance to verbalize his feelings, Seifer had already dug his fingers into his hips (Squall yelped at that, high and surprised and oh, it was delicious), spun him around (a wail now, more irritated) and pushed him forward. Squall stumbled forward until he caught his weight on the wall - he was quiet now, perhaps too stunned and confused, and Seifer, with a smirk on his face that he knew to be devilish, leapt forward and brought himself face to face with Squall's glorious backside.

Seifer had always been especially attracted to Squall's behind. Not when they had been little children, not then, but as soon as his hormones had kicked in when he'd been in his mid-teens, Squall's ass had become the object of more than the occasional daydream. Seifer had never seen it naked - Squall always having showered in swimming trunks after combat training - but he'd seen Squall dressing it in that goddamn leather that clung to its round and decidedly fuckable shape and parading it right in front of him for years on end.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Squall in front of him, though. Naked, with his knees awkwardly bent from the shove and his round cheeks slightly spread, Seifer could feel the strain in his own pants becoming nearly unbearable. He had to control himself, though, he knew very well - he was willing to bet his crown jewels that Squall was an anal virgin and if he didn't thoroughly prepare Squall, he would rip him apart, and that would be a bit of a waste.

Besides, it only seemed right to pay respect to the temple before visiting it.

Thus, Seifer, without waiting for Squall to process what was happening, much less give a verbal response, dug his fingers into the cheeks and pried them apart with his thumbs.

Squall finally re-discovered his ability to speak. "Seifer! What are you - ohhh."

There was a faint trace of sweat, but other than that, it didn't really taste of anything. When Seifer nudged his tongue against Squall's opening, the sphincter tightened in shock, but judging from Squall's noises and the way his knees began to shake, it was highly pleasurable. When Seifer started to swirl his tongue around the tight entrance, Squall began to make small whimpering noises, his whole body echoing the touch of Seifer's tongue with shakes and shudders that seemed to tear through his entire body.

"Sei - ah - fer. What..." He jumped a little and tensed, making a choking noise as Seifer drove his tongue home, pushing the tip of it past Squall's sphincter and into his body again and again. "Nng."

Grinning, Seifer removed his tongue long enough to say, "I haven't changed that much, Squall - I still don't follow orders."

All he got was in reply was a skeptical snort that soon morphed into a mewl as Seifer pushed his tongue back inside, feeling the muscles guarding Squall's opening relaxing slightly, allowing him to push his tongue in farther this time. On an auditory level, Seifer had learned, there was nothing quite like listening to a guy who was getting a rim job - and Squall, to Seifer's delight, was by no means an exception.

Every probe of Seifer's tongue was followed by either a little choking or grunting sound or increasingly, little throaty moans that Seifer was sure Squall had never made before in his life and would be embarrassed about later. Seifer pressed one of his fingers against Squall's perineum, applying mild pressure against it to indirectly stimulate Squall's prostate - something that was rewarded with a little shudder shooting up Squall's spine. Mashing his nose against Squall's tailbone, he strained his tongue to reach deeper and deeper still, and soon as much of his tongue as Seifer could fit in was buried inside Squall. The brunet seemed like he wanted more still, slowly rocking his body back against Seifer's mouth.

Seifer grinned and then started to rotate his tongue, as eager to lick everything he could reach as he was to slicken the tight entrance with his saliva and -

And Squall gave a high-pitched scream as Seifer brushed his tongue against one of his pleasure centers and Seifer almost regretted then that he had his face buried down there because he would've seen nothing with more pleasure than Squall's face. Oh, he was sure his eyes would be glazed over with pleasure and lust... and his mouth? It would be hanging open, perhaps a trail of drool escaping his lips and mingling with the half-dried blood on his chin...

Grin on his face, Seifer let his tongue slip out without warning, but, not allowing Squall the time to make a protesting sound, pushed in a finger instead. The sphincter was by now relaxed enough and the channel itself wet enough to make the finger slide in easily, but Squall still hissed in pain, the muscles around his entrance fluttering around Seifer's digit. Seifer gave a throaty laugh and kissed Squall's back, sampling some of the sweaty pearls pooling there. He enjoyed the feel and smell of Squall; the musky scent of another man bent over in front of him had always been a source of joy, and combined with the knowledge that this time, the man in question was none other than Squall, it made the first feelings of euphoria break loose in his body.

"Gnn," Squall panted, slumping forward so that he rested the length of his forearms against the wall and could bury his face at the crook of his arm. "Ah."

Seifer added a second finger - again, Squall hissed, but adjusted quickly - and started to rhythmically push them into Squall's body. He trailed his other hand over the smooth skin on Squall's cheeks before giving them a playful slap.

"Ah!" Squall exclaimed, shuddering. "Seifer, what -"

The whole thing was taking a toll on Seifer's sanity. The sight of Squall bent over naked, of his own fingers disappearing between Squall's spread butt cheeks; the sound of his moans and encouraging sounds, the way he really seemed to be into this...

Seifer was by now so hard it almost hurt. He wanted nothing more than just bury himself inside Squall's inviting backside and thrust and thrust - but he couldn't, no, he couldn't, couldn'tcouldn't, not yet, he had to be con -

Another slap. Squall flinched and another moan ripped from his throat. He likes being spanked. It should have been wrong - except that it was so hot.

- sider -

Slap. Oh. Ah.

- ate.

And then, Squall turned his head - and the blue-grey eyes that Seifer met were the storm that blew away the last remnants of his self-control.

With an agonized groan, Seifer jumped to his feet and tore open his own zipper, finally freeing his aching erection and hastily lubricating it with spit. When he'd positioned it against Squall's entrance, Seifer rotated his hips to nudge against Squall while he took a moment to let his eyes trail over the body before him, to follow the line of his torso, from his shoulders down over the bumps of vertebrae to the narrow waist that lead to his -

"Seifer." The expression on Squall's face was rather interesting - his eyes and sensually flushed cheeks suggested approval, but his eyebrows were once again furrowed into a frown - and Seifer felt something in his stomach curl at the sight. Squall looked away in embarrassment when he whispered, "Just... just put it in already."

Seifer grinned. And, for once, obliged.

Digging his nails into Squall's hips for support, Seifer, in one moment during which they both drew in their breaths, thrust his hips forward sharply and pushed past the tight ring of muscles.

And in that moment, Seifer's brain went adfk;;fjdsk.

Hm. Hot. Tight. Oh. Yes.
Fuck, YES.

Tight, slick heat was the thing that activated the most primal part in men, robbing them of all their higher functions and ordering them to just push and push and push to capture that delicious heat. Seifer was not exempt from this - as soon as the head pressed into Squall, a big part of Seifer wanted to grip Squall's hips and pound him into him, faster and faster and -

No, he told himself, cutting through the thick veil of haziness that had set over his brain, forcing clarity upon it. He didn't want to tear Squall, so he gave him time to adjust to the feeling of having Seifer inside his body. Squall had his hands balled into fists and was gnashing his teeth to stop a scream from ripping out of his throat. Seifer's hands snaked around Squall's chest and straightened his spine a little so that he could press his chest flush against Squall's back as he leaned forward. He buried his nose at the nape of Squall's neck, breathing in the heat of his body and, pressing his lips against Squall's neck, he felt his frantic heartbeat trembling against his lips. "Shhh," he breathed. "Does it hurt?"

He still had his eyes clenched shut. "Nng. I'm...hah...fine." His eyes slitted open, revealing hazy blue-gray. Looking into Squall's eyes that moment was perhaps the most intimate experience Seifer had ever had. "Do it."

Seifer heeded Squall's request. He applied more pressure, delving deeper into Squall's body (Squall arched his back and let out another gasp at every inch disappearing into his body) until he was sheathed to the base. Seifer let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. If he'd heard himself, he would have marveled at how animalistic that grunt had sounded.

It was like his entire being was being suffocated by Squall. His mind definitely was; he had his nose buried in Squall's chocolate bangs and all he could smell was the heady mix of adrenaline, sex and Squall, and all he could hear were the sounds Squall was making, still a little pained and not as ecstatic as they'd been earlier, but reverberating inside Seifer, louder and louder. Seifer's body was suffocating, too; the walls were gripping him so tightly it was like they were closing in on him. Seifer closed his eyes, breathed in hard and then, gently, began to thrust.

Squall's reaction was instantaneous. He let out one high-pitched moan, his fists clenching and unclenching as though trying to grasp something for support. Seifer himself was rapidly losing control, rubbing himself along the slick walls faster and faster. He could already feel an impending orgasm coil in his stomach and knew that he would come right this second if he looked down and watched his own length disappear between Squall's round cheeks. So he forced himself to not look and instead grabbed Squall's chin and turned it so he could reach Squall's lips, placing a messy, breathy kiss on Squall's mouth. They were both so consumed by the feeling of sex that they lacked the strength and the fine motor skills for kissing and instead just pressed their mouths together, swallowing each other's moans and gasps and fusing their breaths together. Soon, the sound of Seifer slapping against Squall was louder than their mingled moaning and the pressure inside Seifer kept building. It was just too unbelievable; he was fucking Squall. Squall Leonhart, the savior of the Universe, the wunderkind, the Garden Commander with the perfect girlfriend and the perfect life was here, stark naked, getting fucked against a wall by the Sorceress's Lapdog himself and loving it.

Desperately trying to suppress his orgasm, Seifer broke the kiss with a needy groan, then bit into Squall's shoulder. Squall tensed and groaned and oh fuck. Metallic. Blood?

And he just wanted to apologize to Squall for hurting him when he met his eyes and -

Eyes dark with lust. He likes it. Fuck, he likes it.

He could feel the orgasm build within himself; a great heaviness dug his nail into his mind, dragging him lower and lower - but he grit his teeth and fought against it, quickly lapping up the blood on Squall's shoulder. He spanked Squall again and it was only when Squall reacted to it that Seifer he'd done it.

The noise Squall made was unlike anything Seifer had ever heard before. When Squall's butt shook with the repercussion of the slap, he let out such a long, drawn-out grunt that even Seifer, in his near-orgasmic haze, was worried that someone might hear.

"Nng. Ah. Yes.
Seifer, I - I -"

Slap. "Ahh!"

Seifer felt like he could no longer stop it. He was brought higher and higher by Squall's body and the fucking sounds he made and -

"Seifer - stop, I -!" Seifer's palm hit Squall's again in another slap and Squall winced and arched his back. "Ahh!"

In his teenage years, Seifer had often fantasized about the face Squall would make during orgasm, but when he actually did, Seifer followed him so closely after that he didn't get the chance to watch.

When Squall came, Seifer could feel it more than see it. Squall spasmed and contracted all around him; the growing coils of heat that had been running rampant in Seifer's belly filled his entire body as they came to a peak in his groin. Electricity zig-zagged across his eyeballs and Seifer slumped forward, pressing his erection into Squall as deeply as it could go as euphoria spurted from deep within him and pulsed into Squall.

Squall. Squall.

He didn't realize that, while he was riding his orgasm, he grabbed Squall by the hair, yanked his head back and moaned his name over and over again. He didn't realize, because for one moment, all he could feel and all he could think was Squall.

Yes. Squall. Oh, yes.

The orgasm was slow to ebb away, but when his vision had finally cleared, he was panting and they were both covered in sweat. He was not disgusted, however - he embraced Squall from behind, still gasping for breath and buried his face in the nape of Squall's neck.

For a moment, they just stood there with Seifer's arms threaded around Squall's chest, panting in comfortable silence. Seifer could only see the back of Squall's head, but he was pretty sure he had the same delirious expression on his face. When he felt himself rapidly getting soft, he shifted and carefully pulled himself out of Squall's body. He ran one hand down over Squall's back to his entrance and drew circles around it with his fingertips. It was slick with his own release and he couldn't help but push one finger inside to feel it dripping out of Squall and over his fingers to the floor; it should have been disgusting, but all Seifer could think of was how hot it was.

Surprisingly, it was Squall who broke the silence first. "Hm."

Seifer affectionately rubbed the tip of his nose against Squall's neck. "Hm?"

"...Get off." It wasn't said as icily as usual, however; it was almost like Squall was struggling to remember how to be an ass and only managing to sound prissy in the process.

With an amused chuckle and not without pressing another kiss against Squall's shoulder where he'd bitten him, Seifer stepped back, confronting the both of them with the one question that's been arising at the end of every make-out session since the dawn of time.

Where the hell are my clothes?

Upon locating their articles of clothing in various heaps on the floor, they began to dress in silence, the tension between them thickening with each passing second. It didn't take long for Seifer to get annoyed with this.

"Oi, Squall. Aren't you gonna talk?"

Squall was still post-coital looking and didn't quite manage the death glare he had doubtlessly been planning on subjecting him to. "What?"

"Talk. Seeing as how we just, um, fucked. And you liked it, man." Seifer mock-swooned with a hand to his forehead. "Like, geez."

Oh, there it was - the return of the glorious eye twitch. "Seifer..."

"I thought anal orgasms were a myth, you know. But damn, I didn't even need to touch your cock once!"

Squall pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. "Seifer."

"But I think, for me, it's mission accomplished." Seifer grinned. "Quistis ordered me to provoke you and to get you to show some feelings. And I mean, whoa, my back is killing me..."

Squall didn't say anything this time. He just looked at Seifer out of contemplative eyes and Seifer knew that inside of his head, it had to be as noisy as a rock concert.

Seifer had expected a lot from Squall then. He hadn't wanted to even imagine it, but he wouldn't have been terribly surprised had Squall just gotten dressed, left him in the room and never spoken of it again and while he would have been at least a little shaken, he wouldn't have put it past the stoic brunet to just pick up right where they'd stopped before they'd started fooling around and ram Lionheart into his gut. But he hadn't expected him to say what he did.

"So..." Squall said, licking his lips with a conflicted expression on his face. "Are you... staying?"

"I was gonna go back to Timber... hm. What?" Something in Seifer's chest curled. "You want me to stay?"

And then, just then, his real nature seemed to come back to Squall. "Of course not," he muttered brusquely.

And Seifer laughed, chuckles ripping through him as he watched his former rival and the complicated emotions he was so openly at war with. He went over to Squall, ignored the fact that he slid into fighter position almost out of instinct and hugged him, laughing into his shoulder, freely, openly and, for once, without malice.

But then, of course, Squall wouldn't be Squall if he hadn't barbed, "What's wrong with you?"

More chuckles. "Oh, Squall. That's why you and Rinoa could never have worked out."

Seifer could feel him tense against him, but he ignored it.

"Because she didn't accept you the way you were. She's a sweet girl, but she doesn't know you. Not like I do."

Seifer didn't need to see him to know he was rolling his eyes dramatically. "Don't make me laugh."

With a big grin on his face, he let go off Squall. "I understand you, Squall. I know what you meant."

Squall raised an eyebrow. "Wait a minute -"

"Ah, I'm hungry!" Seifer exclaimed, purposefully ignoring Squall's input. "How about we go to the cafeteria? With any luck, I'll run into chicken-wuss!"

Without waiting for an answer, Seifer went ahead, waltzing out of the room. He would come to regret that he walked on ahead later - because, after all, if he hadn't, he may been able to see one of those rare twitches at the side of Squall's face.

Author's Notes: So, this was incredible fun to write, but I think by now the FFVIII fanbase has rather diminished, hasn't it? Even I have to admit that I've mostly stopped writing FFVIII fic in favor of writing Kingdom Hearts and Death Note stuff...still, I may write some more about Squall and Seifer; I just love them so much and they were the first couple I ever really supported in fanfiction. So, if you liked this, please review and encourage me.

Till next time~!