Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction ❯ Protecting the Lion ❯ Wet Dreams ( Chapter 9 )

Chapter Nine

Wet Dreams

 

Dinner was a rather uncomfortable affair. Squall's apartment was not equipped for having company, but the President had been dead set on eating in the privacy of his son's quarters. Gathered around the short rectangular table in front of couch, everyone sat and ate.

 

For the most part Selphie talked with Laguna about the upcoming winter festival. Naturally, Laguna planned another trip to Balamb Garden in order to spend the holiday with his son and see all the decorations and activities. Squall remained silent for the most part, shuffling his food around his plate. Kiros was nearly as silent as Squall, which was apparently not so unusual for the presidential advisor. Irvine kept sending Seifer death glares, for which Selphie continually punched him in the arm.

 

The only reason Squall didn't jab his fork into the back of Seifer's hand each time he had the chance was because the blond had shown surprising consideration and grabbed a hoodie for him to wear. Thankfully, even though it was the ex-knight's hoodie, it covered his neck up and he didn't have to worry about any explanations. He suspected Kiros had already taken notice, but the advisor seemed wholly uninterested.

 

There was a very peculiar exchange between the commander and the ex-knight. Every time Squall ventured a small bite of food, Seifer's hand would casually ruffle the brunet's wayward hair. The action was so casual that the group doubted either Squall or Seifer even knew it was happening, but that couldn't possibly have been the case.

 

Eventually the group called it a night. The President had to return to Esthar early the next morning. Before leaving, Laguna gave his son a very awkward hug. Everyone else seemed to grimace, knowing the commander was not the hugging type.

 

Apartment tidied, the dishwasher was running while Squall prepared to leave. Tying the laces on his boots, an opposed ex-knight futilely attempted to send him off to bed. With an explanation that he was simply running to his office to grab a few files, Seifer argued a bit more before making a compromise. Five minutes in the office and not a second more.

 

Arms loaded with stacks of files, Squall returned to his apartment. The student evaluation reports needed to be reviewed and he was determined to get it done. In his bedroom, he set the files atop an already cluttered workspace.

 

Squall sat at the desk in his bedroom. Hunched over the first of many evaluations, he grumbled his discontent when the ex-knight's voice interrupted his concentration. The overbearing nanny demanded to know what he was up to. Lying, he promised that he was sleeping like a good boy.

 

Hours later, sometime after midnight, Seifer barged into Leonhart's room to find the brunet face down on his desk. Angered, he cursed silently while moving the boy to the bed. Assured that the stubborn commander was actually sleeping, he finally turned in for the night as well.

 

--

 

The storm outside was still in full fury. The rain beat harshly against the windowpane in Seifer's room. Even with blinds drawn, the lightening flashed brightly. Despite such persistent background noises, it was an oddly calm setting to fall asleep in.

 

The entire day had been a radical change of pace for him. It was difficult to say how he felt about it. Soon he and Leonhart could have a good fight together. It would just be a few weeks or so before the brunet would be returned to the same healthy state that he remembered. All in all, it was nice being back. There were a few unexpected feelings he could do without, but distressing sexual tension aside, he felt confident his life would be far more interesting.

 

Mind swimming with the day's hectic events, he smirked at the prospect of what would come tomorrow. He hadn't imagined that being Leonhart's bodyguard would stipulate ordering the tough boy around. He couldn't believe he was getting paid to have fun. It was almost as good as getting paid to fight, but since he had become a knight, he knew no one would hire him as a mercenary.

 

Content with his first day back, Seifer drifted off to sleep.

 

--

 

A particularly loud clap of thunder woke Seifer, or so he thought. His green eyes opened in annoyance. It was still dark and the raging state of the storm informed him that he couldn't have fallen asleep for very long.

 

Groaning, he turned over in bed and made to go back to sleep. It was a startling discovery that he was not alone in the confines of the bedding. Beneath the sheets, a warm body was curled up beside him.

 

Sitting upright, he threw the covers back. Sleeping soundly was an unaware Leonhart, outrageously dressed in what he recognized as one of his t-shirts and a skimpy pair of boxer shorts. Mouth gaping, he tried to process the imagery. His shirt was far too big for the brunet's slim body, leaving a smooth shoulder exposed as the collar draped down on one side.

 

“Squall?” Seifer asked incredulously.

 

Bleary eyed, the pale commander came to while rubbing sleepy eyes childishly. “What's the matter?” he whispered.

 

Bewildered, Seifer simply stared for an unconscionable moment as an inappropriate heat stirred in his loins. “Why are you in my bed, and wearing my shirt?” he questioned tightly.

 

“The thunder was so loud, so I came here. Lay back down,” the brunet offered in excuse.

 

A delicate hand reached out and tugged Seifer's shirt until he hesitantly lay back down. Shifting close, the commander actually snuggled against him. Tensing immediately, he exclaimed, “Squall!”

 

“Nnh,” the brunet replied against his neck. “Sleep,” was the one worded command in a puff of warm breath.

 

A pleasant shiver danced along Seifer's spine. He didn't understand at all, but he was beginning to think that it didn't matter. Slowly, he relaxed and even draped an arm around the form huddled against him. Squall made a soft noise of approval at this, which in turn caused the heat centered near his groin to increase. It suddenly felt stifling hot. With less hesitancy, he wrapped his arms round his new bolster and squeezed gently.

 

Not daring to touch the younger man in any overtly sexual fashion, Seifer found himself the receiver of such attention instead. Soft lips were suddenly kissing along his throat. Unsure how to respond, he trailed his hands along a firm back, exploring curves and touching the brunet like he had never done before. Just as he felt the slick warmth of a tongue against his collarbone, his hands ventured beneath the baggy shirt that Squall had apparently borrowed. Higher and higher, his coarse palm smoothed over soft skin. Reaching around front, his fingers brushed over a hard nub, earning a small moan from the sensual man kissing his neck. Taking a sensitive nipple in his fingers, he rolled it. He could feel himself growing hard.

 

“Seifer,” Squall called, arching into his touch.

 

“Squall,” Seifer breathed out, so confused about what was happening. “What is this?” Squall's wanton actions were pushing him toward the edge. He wouldn't be able to keep his hands off his responsive rival if he became any more aroused.

 

The smaller man shifted, drawing closer along his body. Seifer gasped at the thrilling feel of fingers brushing through his hair. Staring into dark eyes that seemed more blue than usual, Seifer nearly missed what the brunet said.

 

“I want you,” the commander murmur, pout lips forming each syllable carefully.

 

Seifer had reached a breaking point. He didn't care what had brought on such behavior. He only cared that he was highly aroused and growing more hard at each thought of a willing Squall in his bed. Surging forward, he pinned the brunet beneath him. He groaned as the other's legs spread and let him sink closer. His mind was clouded as the boy gave a small buck and pressed against his now straining cock.

 

“Shit,” Seifer growled, knowing he shouldn't continue, but unable to force himself to stop.

 

Another small buck and Seifer was done for. There was no way he was leaving Squall without a good fuck now. Leaning in, he captured those tantalizingly pout lips. They were so soft and warm, and readily parted in invitation. Unable to restrain the sudden lust he felt, his tongue plunged deeply. He tasted his rival's mouth with his tongue and felt supple flesh with gruff hands. It was impossibly pleasing. He crushed pliant lips, bruising them as he drew their kiss out for breathless minutes. It was such a sweet taste. He couldn't get enough of it. Eventually, when he thought the brunet might pass out from lack of air, he pulled back. Looking back down he saw half lidded eyes and crimson lips that were slick and swollen. A small trail of saliva ran down the corner of that luscious mouth.

 

Gulping, Seifer found himself wanting to do it again. Running a thumb across swollen lips, he felt them. Before he could pull his hand away though, a pink tongue darted out and drew his thumb into wet heat.

 

Seifer stared in awe as Squall sucked on his thumb. Next, the brunet grasped his hand and directed his index and middle finger inward instead. Making quite the display of sucking and licking, Squall eventually released the hand and gazed into dazed green eyes.

 

“Not enough, I want more,” the brunet said, reaching a hand down and stroking Seifer's already leaking length through the material of cotton pants.

 

Seifer's breath hitched as he realized what Squall wanted. Unable to deny his body any pleasure at that point, he allowed his rival to roll them over. Slowly, the seductive lion slid down his body, tugging at his drawstring pants. He hissed as a warm hand snaked around his length and freed it from its confines. His eyes were trained intently on every movement Squall made.

 

A pink tongue hungrily licked the head of his cock, lapping away while delicate fingers surrounded the shaft. The combination of long smooth licks and short lapping ones wrought many pleasured groans from the blond. That devilish tongue toyed with the head of his manhood and ran a wet trail along the underside from the base to the tip.

 

Seifer was gripping the sheets with white knuckles. He couldn't fully comprehend anything other than the mind blowing sensations of having Squall greedily giving him a blowjob. Once his straining manhood was fully erect and throbbing for release, the sly commander slowly took a mouthful. Groaning, Seifer released the sheets and gripped silky brown hair.

 

Seifer watched with mild fascination, as his straining member was swallowed inch by well-endowed inch. It seemed impossible that his rival could fit so much in that sweetly tasting mouth, but he was beyond content and would not question anything. All coherent thought fled him as a Squall began to suck him as a wet tongue gyrating against the underside of his weeping penis. The sensitive tip rubbed the back of the brunet's throat, promptly swallowed repeatedly. He groaned loudly as the boy bobbed up and down, pausing to swallow leaking precum every so often. Hips bucking, he sought to thrust into Squall's mouth, but his rival restrained him.

 

When Seifer felt near orgasm, the brunet pulled off until only the mushroomed head of his cock was surrounded by wet heat. A tongue played with the sensitive slit, causing him to see spots. The pace suddenly picked up and his length was swallowed again, sucked hard as the tip was swallowed over and over. Shuddering, his cock pulsed in warning before ejaculating into his rival's mouth.

 

Eyes screwed shut, Seifer arched while the brunet continued to swallow each spurting wave that shot from him.

 

When it was over, Seifer rest for a long moment. Cracking an eye open, he looked down at a panting Squall, who had cum trailing down a finely structured chin. Seeming not to care, the reticent brunet leaned down again and began to lick his softened length clean. Not knowing what came next, he opened his arms and gestured for Squall to lie against him.

 

Instead of complying, the brunet shook his head and leaned back.

 

Tilting his head in question, Seifer waited for Squall to say something.

 

With his legs folded beneath him, Squall lifted the baggy shirt and pulled the boxers down to expose his own aching erection. Looking Seifer in the eye, he said, “Please… I want you inside of me. Make me come with you inside,” he begged.

 

Eyes widening, Seifer could feel himself growing hard again. How could he possibly deny such a request? Sitting up, he reached forward to grab Squall.

 

--

 

Seifer's eyes opened groggily as a loud alarm buzzer went off on the nightstand beside him.

 

Looking around dazedly, the embarrassing truth set in. With no warm body beside him and the feel of sticky release beneath the covers, it was clear what had happened. Grumbling in anger and frustration, Seifer got out of bed. He hadn't had a wet dream like that since he had first started puberty. He hadn't thought it possibly to actually orgasm from a dream.

 

Still early, he hopped in the shower and did his best to push all images of his dream to the back of his mind. He simply couldn't deal with he possible meaning of it all.

 

Emerging from the steam filled room, he towel dried his hair as he walked out. Stopping abruptly, he dropped the towel to hang around his shoulders. Seifer watched as Squall froze in the middle of pulling his boots on near the entryway.

 

Squall went rigid, looking up at the wet haired knight in surprise. His reaction was self-incriminating, making it clear that he knew he was doing something he shouldn't.

 

“Where are you going?” Seifer asked accusingly.

 

“To my office. I have a job to do,” Squall supplied, pulling the other boot on.

 

“No, Quistis can handle things for a little while longer,” the blond countered.

 

“I'm going,” the stubborn brunet stated firmly. Standing up, he grabbed the box he'd placed all the files in. Not waiting any longer, Squall left.

 

An angry blond grit his teeth. He no longer had to worry about having flash backs from his dream. The Squall who'd sucked him off and the Squall who'd just blown him off were two totally different people. Hastily, he tossed the towel aside, ran for Hyperion and slipped his boots on to follow.

 

--

 

Sparks flew as the gleaming blades clashed fiercely, but as soon as the bright glints sprayed off they were gone. Swift movements and fast reflexes kept the two fighters from killing one another.

 

Seifer estimated it to be another ten minutes before the commander wore down.

 

There was pivotal point in battle when stamina waned and the need to end the fight forced the fighters to dodge less and exert great amounts of energy in stronger attacks.

 

This was their game. These were their battles.

 

Blood pumping, adrenaline long gone, Seifer felt sweat trickle down his temple. It was surprising, to say the least, that the stubborn brunet had lasted so long. Then again, he really hadn't expected any less. He had every confidence in his victory. Leonhart had never been able to match him in sheer physical strength and in the commander's weakened state there was no doubt he would be victor.

 

In a stand still, their weapons locked as they fought for dominance. Whoever was forced back first would surely be the loser. Squall was the first to remove one hand from the hilt and place it on the back of his blade to push forward in a greater effort. This caused Seifer to take a small bracing step back. The blond followed set a bracing hand up as well and easily regained the ground he lost.

 

Both fighters were panting heavily, glaring at each other, struggling to keep it up. As Squall leaned his head forward, the neon glow of Lionheart illuminated his face.

 

Seifer was taken aback at the surreal silver coloring that consumed his opponent's eyes. It was almost mesmerizing. Smirking, he kept his green eyes trained to the brightly lit pair before him. His smirk oozed confidence. Arrogantly, he gloated over a victory that hadn't even happened yet.

 

Reading the knight's silent proclamation, Squall quirked an eyebrow. As much as he enjoyed having a good training session, this was not practice. The last couple of days had been full of people pushing him around and making him bend to their will. He'd had enough. There was some strength left in him yet. If Seifer were going to claim victory, the taller man would be doing it while standing over his unconscious body.

 

Physically incapable of overpowering the cocky blond, Squall needed a diversion. Distracting the older boy for even a fraction of a second would work. He needed it fast too, his body was almost shaking with the strain he was putting it through. Seifer showed no signs of tiring any time soon, which was the blessing of having such a broad frame of solid muscle. He had not been born with such a figure and his unmatchable speed was of little help at the moment.

 

Thinking back on all he'd learned, Squall rested on the idea of playing with Seifer's mind. The best distractions were often mental. There was little leverage he had on the blond as far as taunting was concerned. Quistis had actually been the instructor to tutor him with this very matter. It was easy to draw the opponent's attention away with even the smallest of gestures, if the gesture was outrageously out of character. Naturally such a distraction only worked if the fighters knew each other.

 

It might have been a dirty move, but it was within acceptable standards for Squall. At least it was better than casting a spell when they'd agreed upon blades only, like a certain blond had done before. He would consider it pay back.

 

Grunting as Seifer pushed harder, Squall felt his arms quiver. Gritting his teeth, he decided to make a move.

 

Having pushed forward with even more strength, Seifer was mildly impressed that the smaller brunet was able to counter him. He wouldn't have thought it possible for such a slender body to have so much strength left. Then again, a common man could not have defeated the most powerful sorceress of all times and walked away afterwards.

 

For a moment silvery-blue eyes seemed lost in thought, but soon sharpened with such fierce determination that Seifer was momentarily dumbfounded. He couldn't look away from those mesmerizing eyes. When bowed lips turned upwards, his smirk fell as he scrambled to register what he was seeing. It was impossible that Squall was smiling, but his eyes wouldn't show him the right image no matter how much he stared. Squall was smiling at him, almost sweetly, as though they were both six years old again and he had just given the boy his ice cream. Still, even if his eyes weren't working right, he refused to blink. Smiling lips parted and a sultry voice spoke, sending shivers along his spine.

 

Squall had only been smiling for a few seconds and he already felt like his facial muscles were going to spasm. It didn't seem to be working. The blond hadn't even blinked. Diversions were not his usual tactic. Desperate, he resorted to mimicking his instructor like some inexperienced cadet. Quistis had demonstrated various ways of throwing an opponent off guard simply by speaking. “I want you,” he spoke softly, his words wildly out of place with the current situation.

 

Immediately, Squall felt an easing of pressure. Swiftly stepping back, he let whatever pressure Seifer was still applying swing Hyperion down on him. With Lionheart still blocking, he crouched low and spun beneath the arc of the blond's sword. Using all the strength he had left, Squall elbowed the tall man in the stomach. He was careful to place the blow in just the right spot. He didn't want to break the man's ribs.

 

With the wind effectively knocked out of the cocky fighter, Squall moved quickly again. Grabbing the other's right wrist, he twisted harshly, forcing Hyperion to the ground. Keeping his painful hold on that same wrist, he turned his back to Seifer and used his momentum to flip the larger body over. Though his rival was slightly disoriented, he didn't waste any time. He barely had time to pin the blond to the ground and press Lionheart to that tanned throat.

 

Coughing a bit, Seifer hissed in anger. His mind wasn't working right. His body had tried to respond, but the damn brunet was so fast it was impossible to keep up when his brain wasn't thinking clearly. Even as he felt the light weight of his rival straddling him, he was unable to throw him off before the sharp metal was pressed dangerously to his neck. In fact the only thing he seemed able to do was stumble in confusion over the commander's words.

 

Still panting, Seifer breathed out in a dubious and perhaps subconscious hopeful tone, “You…. want me?” Instead of staring up at no particular point on the high ceiling of the training center, he looked into stormy blue eyes, half expecting to see the deep blue color from his dreams. Squall in the eye again.

 

“Yeah,” Squall returned, careful not to let his weakening limbs fall forth onto the blade at Seifer's throat. “I want you…. to let me go to my goddamn office!” he growled.

 

And there it was, the entire reason for the dual in the first place. Squall had attempted to go to his office for the day. Seifer had refused to let the commander work. Both being so equally stubborn, they decided a dual would resolve the matter. At first, Seifer had been more than opposed to the idea of fighting Squall in what he considered a weakened state. The blond had thought it an unfair advantage for him to be healthy and fed and rested, whereas Squall still looked like a strong breeze would do him in.

 

When Squall finished speaking the rest of that sentence, Seifer had to wonder whether the brunet's tone had been the same. Initially, that soft voice had sent a shiver through him and he perceived it to be sultry and inviting. Now, that voice sounded beyond angry. He didn't know how much of it was Squall and how much of it had been his damn subconscious misinterpreting it all.

 

Meaning clear, Seifer banished all thoughts of his dream. There was one problem however. Leonhart had fairly claimed victory by holding him in a checkmate for a prolonged moment, but he could see that slender frame wavering. The young commander looked ready to collapse.

 

Squall's pale skin was ghostly white and sweat trickled down his temple in rivulets. Some of his chocolate bangs were matted to his forehead, while the rest hung limply as he leaned forward. Seifer was starting to catch his breath, while the Squall's chest still rose and fell in quick succession.

 

It didn't take long for reality to rush back to Seifer. Pinned in defeat, he was less than happy. The brunet had purposely distracted him. Though, he couldn't tell if the guile commander had deliberately played off of his suppressed emotions or just hit the mark on accident. It wasn't like he'd been conspicuous about any attraction. He had only played a few jokes that involved a little intimate touching. No, his rival couldn't possibly have known. Squally-boy was beyond oblivious when it came to that sort of stuff.

 

Slowly, Seifer raised a hand and pushed Lionheart away. The weapon gave way easily in Leonhart's slack grip. He could see the fog clouding those grey-blue eyes. The man had nothing left. It was far too early for them to be training like this. The brunet had a ways to go before regaining a clean bill of health.

 

“I could take you right now,” Seifer stated, pointing out that even while he was the one on the ground, he could reverse the situation in a heartbeat.

 

Squeezing his eyes shut as they lost focus and the world before him went blurry, Squall tried to process the blond's words. He was bit preoccupied with not collapsing. “I won,” he finally said, though his words cracked with a parched throat.

 

“Yes, but that doesn't mean-” Seifer began, but was cut off as the boy still on top of him shook his head in disagreement.

 

“The code,” he spoke harshly. Between the two of them, they always upheld the honor and rules of battle. He had won, which meant he was allowed to go to his office since that was the pending issue.

 

“Hmm?” Seifer replied, green eyes narrowing as a devilish smirk graced his face.

 

Squall's gloved hand still grasped his weapon, holding the heavy blade off the ground. Dropping Lionheart, it hit packed dirt with a thud. His vision went hazy again and his balance was thrown off as he swayed forward. Instinctively, he braced himself upright by placing his hands against Seifer's shoulders. If he had more strength, he would have raged outwardly at the pathetic state he was in. Instead, he spoke feebly again, hating the way his voice sounded more like a plea, “Don't push me around.”

 

At the sound of Lionheart being released to the ground, Seifer's eyes softened and he regretted trying to push the commander when the weary boy was so close to the edge already. He had wanted to irritate the brunet, not break him. He watched in concern as the smaller man swayed slightly. But his concern was redirected when the boy's precarious positioning took effect. The brunet's butt rubbed against a rather touch sensitive region. Clenching his teeth, he willed his body not to react, promising that he would find a beautiful girl as soon as possible.

 

Seifer's situation wasn't made any better when he tried to focus his attention to someplace more north bound. Looking at his rival's face, he saw the brunet had bright eyes scrunched shut and plush lips parted in a soft pant. All that heavy breathing had brought a faint blush to pale cheeks. Though his brain knew it was a look of overexertion and complete exhaustion, another part of him connected the image with someone in the middle of having sex.

 

Gulping, Seifer averted his eyes quickly before he found himself unable to keep his thoughts from poking the brunet in the ass. Desperate to resolve the conflict, he conceded, “Okay, we'll go to the office.”

 

Grey-blue eyes shot open and a small, pleased smirk played across Squall's face. He had won and gotten his way. That was all he had wanted. With his mission accomplished, he fell forward against the blond and decided that maybe he would just have to wait until later to finish reading the evaluation reports on the new recruits.

 

Inhaling steadily to calm down, Seifer sat up. The limp body rose with him. Of all the many things he had expected upon returning to Balamb Garden, one of them was not to find himself harboring some insane attraction to the man in his arms. Before Squall could fall away, he snaked an arm around a lean torso and held the commander in place.

 

Sighing in frustration, he ran a hand through his hair. He was not attracted to Leonhart. Men did not turn him on. Least of all, stubborn and moody brats like this one. It was a fluke. His body and thoughts were betraying him only because Squall was the only warm body nearby. It could have been anybody.

 

Having made his conclusions, Seifer stood up with the commander cradled in his arms. Looking around, he wondered how he was going to carry their gunblades back.

 

“Need some help?” called an unfamiliar voice.

 

Turning around, Seifer eyed the newcomer suspiciously. A boy, fifteen at most, jogged towards him from the training center entrance. The kid must have been a new recruit. The new students were always too ignorant to know that no one of a lower level should be in there alone, especially with the new critters added. With short black hair, spiked in a similar though less gravity defying manner as Dincht, the boy slowed to a stop and waited in front of him. Dark brown eyes looked at him expectantly.

 

Seifer's gaze narrowed. He didn't like the idea of some stranger touching Hyperion and he knew Squall would loath the idea of anyone even thinking about touching Lionheart. It was either have the kid carry the weapons or hand Squall over. Though the new kid was young and considerably smaller than himself, Squall was fairly light, capable of being carried on the boy's back.

 

Eventually, Seifer decided he would rather interrogate the kid before accepting any help. “Who are you?”

 

Grinning sheepishly, the boy responded, “I'm Rui, Rui Valdez.” There was a sharper accept to his words as he spoke normally. It was clear inflection straight from the streets of Dollet City.

 

“Uh-huh,” Seifer miffed, not liking the easy manner this kid treated being in both the presence of himself and the commander. “What year are you?”

 

Dropping his grin, Rui replied, “First year. I just got here, not four days ago.”

 

“What are you doing in here?” Seifer pressed, not caring that all these questions were hardly necessary for accepting a helping hand when he obviously needed it.

 

“Well, I thought I'd check this place out. I heard a lot about the center from the other guys. But then I saw you carrying him and I wondered if you needed help.” His eyes scanned the person in the tall blond's arms. “Is that the commander?” he asked with alarmed concern.

 

“Yeah,” Seifer said evenly, making his mind up and protectively angling his arms away from the boy. “Just grab those two blades,” he ordered. Something rubbed him the wrong way. He didn't like this kid. Regardless of his likes or dislikes, he wasn't going to make two trips or wait around for Leonhart to wake up.

 

Eyeing the blond suspiciously, Rui tentatively retrieved the two impressive weapons from the ground. They were heavy together, but he managed with a bit of effort.

 

Seifer didn't wait for the kid. He was already walking for the exit, but listened as the boy jogged to catch up.

 

“Is he alright?” Rui asked, having concluded that the unconscious man was indeed Commander Leonhart.

 

“He's fine,” Seifer said tersely. It was a private matter, no need for outsiders to butt in. Apparently, his tone did not dissuade the curious manner of the new recruit.

 

“Were you two fighting?” Rui asked with interest.

 

Not missing a stride Seifer spat sarcastically, “No, we were making passionate love.”

 

There was silence from the kid who followed behind. After a moment, the raven-haired boy spoke again, “Then why is he out cold?”

 

Seifer did stop walking then, turning to stare at the ignorant newbie. Seeing true confusion in big brown eyes, he barked with laughter. Riding out his laughter, he turned and continued walking. “It's because I'm so damn good, he just couldn't take it and passed out,” the blond remarked, amused at the ridiculous comments he could pass off as truth.

 

The walk was fairly short, made faster by the pace the ex-knight set. Seifer didn't need anyone else spotting an unconscious commander, because it could very well result unfavorably for him. Once outside Leonhart's door, he stopped and balanced the limp body so that he could key in the code. It wasn't easy, but he wasn't about to let the kid do it. He debated whether or not he should make young Rui wait out in the hall. In the end, he figured if Squall wasn't awake to throw a hissy fit, it didn't matter. He motioned for Rui to follow him in.

 

“Set those on the counter,” Seifer instructed while he made his way to the couch. Gently setting Squall down, he stood back up and walked into the kitchen. Without any real gesture of gratitude, he called out, “Thanks for the help.” His tone implied dismissal.

 

Seifer's new task was to find a washcloth. Sadly, it was only his second day in the apartment and his search produced no results. The bathroom was his next guess for where a washcloth would be. The bathroom was the third door along the wall in the living room, the first two being bedrooms. He quickly spotted what he was looking for. Wetting the cloth in the sink, he rung it out and walked back into the living room.

 

The scene Seifer found stopped him in his tracks. That impudent little newbie hadn't left and was currently kneeling before Squall's defenseless form. Worse yet, something he didn't need to understand to dislike, the boy had his hands boldly groping the commander's chest.

 

 

TBC… please review… there may be cookies in it for you…