Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction / Aladdin Fan Fiction ❯ Boiling Point ❯ Boiling Point ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Warning: NC17, yaoi, Seifer/Squall, non-existent plausibility, not proof read, and Ooc! Did I mention, NC17? Seriously, this is graphic and not for anyone who isn't old enough to be driving past dark. It is a PWP, so please do not anticipate any engrossing twists, turns, character development, or even genuinely believable characterizations. I know how Squall is supposed to act, but forgive me for not having the patience to thoroughly explain why he and Seifer have sex. My grammar is not perfect and neither are my typing skills, so beware of errors here and there and forgive a rushed author.
 
 
Boiling Point
 
Conceited and hubristic, Seifer Almasy was one of the cockiest mercenaries to ever strut the halls of Balamb Garden. With his golden blond hair slicked back, the silky strands glinted ostentatiously in any light. Vibrant jade green eyes gazed clearly, sparkling with a thirst for deviant mischief and an interminable fire. His tall and robust frame drew fawning attention from everyone in sight, kindling desires and envy.
 
Despite his countless favorable attributes, Seifer had recently begun to contend with the dissatisfaction of unrequited lust. In fact, his suppressed desires were resurfacing in ways that frequently left him bereft of logical thought. His wishful fancy had turned into an unruly need to express his lust and completely possess the object of his newfound affections.
 
Seifer faced more than a few roadblocks in his imaginative quest to fulfill his debauchery. There was very little hope of ever acting out his feelings, but his aching need grew each day and he began to daydream of using force. He wasn't looking for a lasting relationship, merely a physical conquest of what he had been denying himself for far too long.
 
The muscles of his stern jaw clenched as he battled his internal ailment. Oblivious passersby scurried in fear, not knowing that the baleful glint in intense green eyes was in fact simmering lust ready to boil over.
 
Hugging the fountain's edge, Seifer made his way to the training center. Physical exertion spent all his excess energy and kept his mind busy. He was not brutish enough to resort to rape, but ropes and blindfolds certainly heightened the eroticism of his daydreams.
 
After a mass slaying, the oozing carcasses of at least a hundred Grats lay strewn along the path Seifer had made through the training center. Deciding to break for lunch, he made his way to the locker room, in dire need of a shower.
 
Seifer thoroughly scrubbed his body clean. The heavy mist of billowing steam clouded his vision and the pressurized spray of water reverberated off the large tiled room. Hearing and sight impaired, he was surprised by the sound of another showerhead turning on. Rinsing soap from his eyes, he cast a casual glance to the side. He went rigid, unable to believe his misfortune.
 
Squall Leonhart stood two stations away. Rich brown hair darkened by the water had plastered itself so that lengthy strands contoured to a slender neck. His relatively small frame was lithe and sensual, toned muscles covering every visible inch. Face upturned, he let the water run over him, his lips parting to breath in the heavy air.
 
Seifer swallowed thickly, unable to tear his eyes away. Steamy air flowed in and out through plush lips. Those were the lips was wanted to ravish, to taste until he knew no sweeter flavor than that of his rival's mouth. His attention was reluctantly drawn elsewhere, richly compensated for the loss of beckoning lips. His hands twitched, his fingertips tingling in anticipation of touching milky white flesh. Dusky nipples were erect, standing innocently at attention and mocking him for the distance that separated his mouth from latching on and gnawing.
 
The rumbling boil of passion and lust crept higher to the edge, threatening to spill over as Seifer was presented such a tantalizing treat. Impassioned blood coursed through his veins, each pump sending throbs of arousal to his stirring manhood. Pleasant heat pooled in his loins, surmounting to a degree that overwhelmed him. When his eyes landed upon his rival's pert ass, shaped by Hyne for the obvious intention of being fucked, he lost all sense of reason. Casting aside all rationale, he knew he had to act before unsuspecting stormy blue eyes opened and had the chance to spot his prominent erection.
 
Pushing back his sodden bangs, Squall craned his head higher and let warm water run down his neck and chest. Without warning, he roughly met with the cool tile of the wall in front of him. Thrust hard against the unforgiving surface, he jerked against the disturbingly strong hands that kept him in place.
 
Reality didn't set in for Seifer until he already had his rival pinned to the wall. He knew it wasn't too late to cast a few insulting stones and chalk it up to schoolyard bullying, but he drew closer and pressed his stiff manhood against Leonhart's lower back.
 
“Seifer,” Squall hissed in protest. Insults were easy enough to ignore, but getting physical while he stood in such an exposed state was crossing the line.
 
Seifer was angry at the unjust irony of desiring the one person he couldn't have. Even a man as sexy as himself could not possibly figure a way to woo his publicly scorned rival into bed. His anger turned outward and he defensively transferred the blame for his actions. “I try so hard to keep things civil between us, and then you come in here and taunt me,” he accused hotly.
 
“What the hell?” Squall muttered. “Get off me…” His eyes widened as he finally realized what was poking his lower back.
 
“You feel that?” Seifer queried with mock blitheness. He ran his hands greedily over the brunet's wet body.
 
Taking a ragged breath, Squall closed his eyes to savor the moment. He waited for the imposing blond to make another move, but the man continued to knead his buttocks as though that action alone were enough to satisfy.
 
“Next to Shiva, you're the icy bitch I know. How's it feel to have my hands on your ass?” Seifer's manhood had become so hard that he imagined he could climax just from groping his rival's enticing body.
 
“Stop,” Squall asserted tersely.
 
“All those belts gotta mean something, princess,” Seifer said huskily against the younger swordsman's ear. “Are you saying you don't like being touched like this? You don't want my cock in your ass?”
 
Shivering, Squall drew in unsteady breaths as he contended with the notion that the least likely person to ever return his affections had him pinned to the wall in an undeniably sexual context. “No,” he hissed breathily, a convulsive shiver running through his body again. His mind was delirious with excitement and anticipation, but his hopeless doubts pointed out that he was either dreaming or about to reveal his greatest weakness to the one person who could and would exploit it.
 
“I'm disappointed if this is all the fight you have in you,” Seifer murmured in a husky voice. He smirked against Leonhart's ear before running his tongue over it. Biting the soft and beckoning lobe, he let out a satisfied groan while rocking his hips forward and letting his pulsing cock slide between the cleft of the brunet's exposed buttocks. It was pure heaven.
 
Biting his lip to keep from moaning, Squall decided there was little reason to remain inhibited when the bullying blond's throbbing manhood was no joke. Without warning, he moved his foot, hooking it behind one of Seifer's ankles. In a single retaliating surge, he pushed away from the wall with all his strength.
 
Toppling backwards, Seifer fell with a curse of annoyance. Regaining ground quickly, he was prepared for a striking blow before he could even stand up. He was not, however, prepared for what he received.
 
Squall finally glimpsed the appendage that had rubbed against him with insidious intent. Unable to control himself, he fell to his knees and sought to touch the meaty organ.
 
Jade green eyes widening, Seifer stared down at the back of Leonhart's head as the man met a rather tender and vulnerably exposed part of his body. Distantly fearful that the brunet intended to bite his dick, he jolted apprehensively when a warm mouth wrapped around his stiff length.
 
Salaciously hungry, Squall feasted on his rival's cock. Swirling the angry red tip, he lapped pre-cum from the slit, the pearly drops beading and running over onto his tongue. Wrapping his lips around the mushroomed head, he sucked greedily, urging more thick fluid into his mouth.
 
“Fuck,” Seifer cursed. Sitting on the wet floor, the air degrees cooler so close to the ground, he was suddenly at the mercy of his rival's mouth. Relaxing a bit, he bent his knees and gave Leonhart some accommodating room to pleasure him. He gripped wet tresses and directed the pale swordsman to consume more. He pushed his rival down, urging his cock down a slender throat. He couldn't believe what was happening. “Suck harder,” he hissed, immediately rewarded. “Yes, fuck yes.”
 
Squall sucked harder, overwhelmed by the experience. His jaw began to ache from accommodating Seifer's thick length, but he scarcely cared. The sound of his rival's aroused groans drove him to take more, obsequiously pleasuring the older boy.
 
“I'm close,” Seifer muttered through clenched teeth. His hips thrust upwards involuntarily while his hands kept Leonhart's head stationed. Closing his eyes, he leaned back and gained the leverage to thrust harder. Without a single shred of tolerance, he climaxed, oblivious to the circumstances and uncaring that he hadn't screwed his rival as intended.
 
Swallowing reflexively, Squall forcibly unclasped the blond's hands and pulled off before he drank every last drop of the man's essence. It was far sweeter than he imagined and he was loath to leave any of it unconsumed. With his hand, he gripped the spurting organ and jerked it until there was nothing left, coating his fingers without a single thought for how horribly improper his actions were.
 
Given free reign to act out every lewd and suppressed fantasy, Squall reached his coated hand down and pressed his fingers against his breech. Slipping a digit inside himself, he glanced up into lust dazed green eyes. Biting his lower lip, he stifled a needy moan and silently beckoned his rival to pin him down and screw him senseless.
 
Seifer watched in speechless fascination as Leonhart touched himself. His eyes remained fixated, mesmerized by the sight of his rival's rosy anus, where elegant fingers shamelessly stretched the opening. Understanding finally dawned on him and he realized he had not been alone in his unrequited lust.
 
Under the intense gaze of his rival, Squall began to feel strangely intoxicated. He had never touched himself with someone else watching. Sinking his teeth into his lip, he struggled to keep quiet. His fingers delved deeper, desperately deriving what little satisfaction there was in the lonesome act.
 
Unable to move, Seifer forgot his own existence completely. His cock twitched to life, throbbing with the single-minded intent of replacing Leonhart's thrusting fingers. Before he realized what he was doing, he had already reached out and grasped a slender wrist.
 
“Nn,” Squall intoned a quiet note of uncertain anticipation. He met heated green eyes and questioned whether the blond intended to follow through to the end.
 
Licking his lips, Seifer took hold of the brunet's shoulders. No words seemed necessary when they were undoubtedly in agreement. Drawing the smaller boy close, he met plush lips tentatively and pulled back. Gauging the whirlwind of emotions in stormy blue eyes, he felt as though he were falling. Seeing his lust mirrored, the last thread of his sanity cut away.
 
Seifer met inviting lips again, rougher this time. The contact was not enough to satisfy his burning need, so he consumed more.
 
Swept into a tight embrace, Squall simply moaned as a stabbing tongue invaded his mouth. His entire body ached with longing, perversely wanting to be stabbed elsewhere by something quite larger than his rival's tongue.
 
Incensed, Seifer plundered the younger swordsman's mouth, his arms squeezing the boy's slender body tight enough to bruise. He refused to let go or allow any distance between them. His hands groped supple flesh, his right hand deviously traveling lower to knead firmly sculpted buttocks.
 
Squall's fingers dug into sun-kissed skin as he gripped broad shoulders. Kissing the blond more feverishly, he urged Seifer to do more. He wanted more. He wanted to be taken roughly until he was conscious of nothing but his rival's physical presence.
 
Breaking away from the brunet's sweet tasting mouth, Seifer grinned lewdly. “You like that?” he murmured mischievously.
 
Managing a bare nod, Squall released his hold and reached around to direct Seifer's hand exactly where he wanted it. Dropping his head against the older boy's shoulder, he lost strength at the feel of foreign fingers pressing inside him. His own fingers had often delighted in toying with his sensitive entrance and prostate gland, but he had never had the pleasure of allowing someone else to invade him.
 
Seifer was in a state of shock and disbelief, though that didn't keep him from touching his rival. In his wildest dreams, he had never imagined Leonhart to be such a lewd creature so willing to strip away all pretenses and years of rivalry in the name of higher hedonistic pursuits.
 
Hips rocking, Squall urged Seifer to press deeper inside him. Unable to articulate his need, he nipped the man's neck pleadingly, suckling along tanned skin with promises of returned favor.
 
With a devilish smirk in place, Seifer removed his fingers, becoming cruelly endeared by his rival's near inaudible whine of protest. “I'll give you something better,” he assured with a suggestive pat on the boy's pert ass.
 
For a still moment, Squall gazed deeply into sharp green eyes. He couldn't voice his reservations, too afraid that the atmosphere would come crashing down over his head. He wasn't opportunistic by nature, but he had enough awareness to know he might never receive another chance again.
 
“What?” Seifer questioned, intuitively reading the expression on Leonhart's delicate face. Big grey-blue eyes were trying to tell him something, but he couldn't clearly read the message that was trying to be conveyed. Kneeling on the cold floor, he leaned away from the brunet's form. Reaching out, he circled his hands around the younger fighter's vulnerable neck. Briefly imagining how easily he could strangle the complacent boy, he nudged his thumbs beneath a narrow chin and directed an effeminate face to lift higher.
 
Squall didn't speak. He didn't know what to say or how to voice his feelings.
 
“What do you want?” Seifer pressed, trying to coerce some fragment of an explanation out of the laconic beauty. Tightening his grip threateningly, he stared into Leonhart's eyes and waited for some response.
 
Actions replacing words, Squall reached down and grasped his rival's salient erection. Stroking the organ firmly, he gasped softly when powerful hands tightened uncomfortably around his neck. Craning his head back, he tugged away, eventually winning his freedom from someone who would never actually strangle him.
 
Seifer watched curiously as the brunet turned away from him. Fearing for a moment that the boy intended to leave, the air was stolen from his lungs when he witnessed the prideful swordsman bending over in prostration. A heavy wave of arousal coursed through him when he realized it was an offering.
 
Lowering his chest to the cold floor, Squall sent the clearest message he could. He wanted to be taken. Since it seemed to him that Seifer wanted to take him, he was certain they could reach some sort of compromise.
 
Hesitating only as long as it took his cock to tell his brain to start moving, Seifer surged forward and gracelessly closed the distance between them. “No condom,” he commented warningly, though he scarcely imagined he could actually stop at that point.
 
Shaking his head, Squall edged his knees farther apart, affirming his position and silently stating he didn't care. Given the abruptness of their debauchery, he was not bothered with the forethought of preparation. It was a chance meeting that could very well have never happened, if not for the locker room being empty of all others except themselves and the unrequited desires they secretly harbored coming to light so suddenly. He would not spurn such a chance when it could have so nearly never come to pass.
 
Without further delay, Seifer guided his stiff length to his rival's rosy entrance. Breaching Leonhart's resistant portal, the mushroomed tip of his demanding cock was soon enveloped in blessed heat. He could have died a happy man right then, but gladly slid deeper into gripping depths while he still had the breath to do so. Bruising the tender flesh of androgynously curved hips, he kept a firm hold while thrusting forward.
 
Emitting a small cry of surprised pain, Squall clawed the floor as he was split open. He had never taken so much and likewise never felt such blissful satisfaction. Feeling whole for the first time in his life, he welcomed the union between them. He ignored the sharp pangs of stretching discomfort. Rocking back against the blond's thrusting hips, he impaled himself deeper.
 
Taking charge, Seifer thrust viciously hard, rending his lascivious rival senseless. Ramming his engorged length in like a spearing rod, he lost all merciful pretenses and reveled in the cries that reverberated off the tiled walls. His intention wasn't to hurt Leonhart, even if he enjoyed the subjugation, but he could not restrain himself.
 
“Ahh!” Squall could not possibly stifle his voice. Each ecstatic moan erupted from his throat and spilled over his lips, pleading for more. “Ahn!” Slammed into violently from behind, he was unable to match such furious thrusts. Hands slipping against the wet floor as he desperately sought leverage, his body rocked forward with each forceful thrust. The powerful hands at his hips pulled him back and kept him stationed in place for the next satiating stab.
 
“Yes,” Seifer hissed, groaning as each thrust carried him closer to the edge. Desires unleashed, he felt as though he had wings, free to soar higher and bathe in otherworldly pleasure.
 
Feeling madness creep up on him, Squall began to fear the rampant experience. Crying out, he raised an arm and desperately sought stability. Though he reached back to grasp the man rocking into him, he did not manage to find what he needed.
 
Seifer detected the change of tone in his rival's wanton cries, but was in no position to stop. He was lost in the sensation. Finally free to consume his rival, the whole of garden couldn't have pulled him off the boy at that point.
 
“See you…” Squall managed to articulate disjointedly.
 
“What?” Seifer ground out in response, not exactly up for a conversation in the midst of feverishly coupling.
 
Panting, Squall remonstrated, “S-stop.”
 
Angrily, Seifer withdrew from the prostrated beauty. Taking hold of a pale arm, he flipped his rival's form over and roughly pinned the boy to the floor. Exerting his domination, he lorded over the dazed fighter and glared.
 
Squall gave a faint nod. “Like this,” he said breathily. Holding Seifer's gaze, he spread his legs and tacitly requested the blond continue.
 
“Like this?” Seifer repeated questioningly. Drawing closer, his expression softened as he interpreted the boy's meaning. “You wanted to see me,” he surmised with a cocky grin.
 
Breath hitching, Squall spread his legs wider when his rival nudged back inside his body. He arched as he was filled again and wrapped his legs around the older boy's waist to ensure they remained joined. Staring ardently into vibrant green eyes, he saw nothing but Seifer on top of him and he felt nothing but Seifer inside of him.
 
Seifer was deeply moved by what he saw in his rival's eyes. He often spent a good deal of his time badgering the icy loner to notice him and pay attention. In that moment, Leonhart only had eyes for him. He knew he was the sole occupant of the pretty boy's mind. Only he was welcome to taste and ravish the well-guarded treasure of such a luscious body.
 
As the dominating blond thrust into him, Squall's hugged the fighter's muscular form and drew his body closer. Pressing flush against moist and warm skin, he blurred the line separating their bodies. While his heart thumped wildly in his chest, he felt Seifer's heart beating in tandem, the dull throb echoing in answer to his own.
 
“You're so tight, Leonhart,” Seifer stated, groaning in satisfaction as he pulled out of gripping heat and thrust back in. “It feels so fucking good inside you.”
 
Gasping, Squall arched off the floor, anchored by the strong form above. In ecstasy, he cried out, his voice suffused with longing and passion. “Seifer,” he murmured against the blond's ear, his lips brushing a soft lobe before he nuzzled against the man's neck. “Break me,” he urged.
 
The sound of Leonhart's voice in his ear drove Seifer wild. It was a shame the laconic fighter rarely spoke, depriving him of such dulcet sounds. With barely a sentence spoken, those three words wrapped around his brain like the tendrils of some spell. He would have heeded any command his rival bid him, so long as he received the boy's body in return.
 
“Seifer!” Squall exclaimed ecstatically as the older boy began an onslaught of violent thrusts. Torn in half, pleasure coursed through him relentlessly. His rival's thick length rubbed and struck his most sensitive spot over and over again. It felt so good, so unbearably good.
 
“I'm coming,” Seifer groaned. His hips slapped against Leonhart's body as they joined, the pace increasing as he pounded into the doting creature.
 
Hips bucking in salacious need, Squall met his rival's thrusts with his own. Clinging tightly, he cast his head back and came blindly. The unadulterated pleasure of his orgasm hit him so hard that he was sent reeling. Crying out, he held on desperately while careening over the edge.
 
Seifer faltered, unable to stay composed with wild fire coursing through his veins. Propped up on sturdy arms, one of his elbows buckled and he was forced to lower the weight of his rival to the ground. The way Leonhart's arms hugged him close seemed to demand a return of affection. Maneuvering his arms around his younger partner's light frame, he settled his weight on the pale brunet, his forearms pillowing the back of a slender neck. Still rutting, his spurting length delighted in the way Leonhart's tight channel clenched like a vice.
 
Squall shuddered uncontrollably, his mind and body filled with intense pleasure. For the first time in his seventeen years, he felt true sexual satisfaction. The ache in his body had been abated, his lustful longing answered in kind.
 
Spine tingling as though the pleasure that coursed through him had been an electrical current running along his back, Seifer slowly descended from his heavenly experience. Holding Leonhart tightly, he wallowed in the warmth of the untamable creature's body.
 
Contented, Squall lay panting and fulfilled. A smile tugged his lips upwards, threatening to reveal his contentment as happiness or giddiness. Banishing the notion, he admitted he was grateful for such gratification, but hardly giddy or even proud of his actions.
 
Chuckling, Seifer raised his head and met stormy blue eyes warmly. “That was better than I thought it would be,” he commented lightheartedly.
 
Squall nodded in agreement. Unwrapping his legs, a modest blush tinged his cheeks with belated embarrassment. In his haste, he had not considered his position.
 
“So cute,” Seifer said, amused by his rival's endearing expression. Dipping down, he captured pout lips tenderly.
 
Sighing softly, Squall parted his lips and greeted his rival's slick tongue with his own. Though he disliked the bullying blond on the battlefield, he was seized with lust and possessed by longing whenever he didn't hold a blade in his hands.
 
Blood calmed, Seifer relished the sweet flavor of Leonhart's mouth. Not wanting his tongue to forget the taste, he couldn't stop kissing the brunet. His passion escalated and before he knew what he was doing, his twice satisfied cock was hardening in preparation for another round.
 
Squall simpered quietly, the noise swallowed by the lively blond. He felt the man's flaccid length spring to life, hardening inside him. The swelling of his rival's thick manhood widened his abused entrance, stirring his own desires back to life.
 
Rocking in and out of the pale fighter in his arms, Seifer began screwing the boy all over again before he could stop himself. Breaking away from lasciviously swollen lips, he gazed reverently into stormy blue eyes. “I still want you,” he informed, a wickedly mischievous gleam in his eyes. Mind swimming with an array of perverse positions he could try out, he lowered his head and feasted on enticing lips.
 
“Ahh,” Squall moaned in a quiet hiss. “Me too,” he managed to say around his rival's plundering tongue. He hooked a single leg around the devastatingly handsome fighter's waist.
 
Starting all over again, the two rivals turned the locker room's shower into their personal mating grounds. Reveling in the experience of each other's body, the lunch hour passed unnoticed, as did the camera mounted high in the steam filled corner.
 
 
Fin
 
Author's notes: For anyone awaiting the next chapter of Defining Love, you may throw wads of paper and flick pennies at me. The chapter is coming along, but as you might have noticed, I have split my attention. It's November, which means a variety of things, all of which are keeping me from focusing solely on the next chapter for DF. NaNoWriMo has me in a tizzy again and I've decided from the beginning that I'm not going to shoot for 50,000 when my style doesn't allow for quantity over quality. -_- Before I turn this note into a journal entry, I'd just like to say that I offer this PWP as a small snack for anyone weary of S/S droughts. And for anyone interested, or anyone still waiting for me to make good on my promises from long ago, I have done a bit more work on the Irvine/Squall one-shot and hope to finish that up soon. ^_-