Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction ❯ Protecting the Lion ❯ To See, To Covet, To Possess ( Chapter 13 )

Chapter Thirteen

To See, To Covet, To Possess

 

With a frustrated sigh, Squall paused a moment to collect his thoughts. He could tell the severity of his actions hadn't set in yet. Had he just kissed Seifer? His face was already flushed, but his shame increased when he realized it had been no mere kiss. They had been going at each other like there was no tomorrow.

 

The persistent knocking at the door drew his attention again.

 

Squall's hesitated another moment, wanting his caller to wait as punishment for interrupting. He couldn't help but feel annoyed. Most everyone knew that he hated being disturbed on any account when within the private confines of his apartment, and he was inexplicably disappointed by not continuing with his rival.

 

Knowing he was being petulant, he opened the door. Light from the hallway flooded in, but much of it was blocked out by Irvine's tall form.

 

“Irvine?” Squall questioned, mildly surprised. He supposed it shouldn't have mattered, since he hadn't really any guess as to who it might have been.

 

Violet eyes narrowed and darkened to a deeper shade. Irvine had come to report to about a lead in Dollet. The commander hadn't been in his office and the secretary said that he had left for the day. Odd as that seemed to the sharpshooter, he figured it had something to do with Seifer. He was alarmed by the muffled sounds he had heard coming from inside the apartment and the amount of time it had taken for Squall to answer the door.

 

Seeing Irvine's upset demeanor, Squall tilt his head in question. “What is it?” Obviously the gunman wouldn't have come for nothing.

 

To Irvine's trained eyes, he easily detected every bit of evidence on the commander's body, every wrinkle in that green shirt and misplaced strand of hair. Swiftly, with rough force and very little forethought, he grabbed Squall and yanked him out into the corridor. Gripping the front of the brunet's shirt, he pushed the shorter man against the wall just beside the open doorway.

 

Grey-blue eyes narrowed. There was only so much pushing around that Squall could take in a single day. If Irvine had been any less of a friend, the cowboy would have been howling in pain over a broken trigger finger. “Kinneas,” he warned in a low tone.

 

Irvine knew the dangers of evoking his leader's wrath, but at the moment he was slightly preoccupied. In the light of the hall, it was clearer to see. Squall's lips were bruised, redder and more pout than usual. Those usually messy strands of dark brown silk were mussed and disheveled in a manner his eyes could not mistake. Most noticeable was the still slick mark on Squall's pale neck. His fist tightened, clenching the cotton material of the commander's shirt tighter. “Did Seifer do this?” he asked demandingly.

 

All Squall managed to see was a glint of metal before Hyperion was between himself and Irvine, pressed dangerously to the sharpshooter's throat.

 

“Letting go of the commander would be wise.” Seifer's voice was cold and threatening. There was no doubt that he would put the sharpened edge of his gunblade to use without batting an eye.

 

Realizing his loss, Irvine let go. He might be able to take small liberties with the commander, but not with the ex-knight. Though he let his hand drop, he remained rooted in place, only a foot from the brunet. Not letting his eyes stray from the steely grey depths of his leader, he ignored the weapon at his throat. “There was a report from the squadron in Dollet. The store clerks have made an affirmative ID on Rinoa. One woman claims to have been her roommate for the last month.”

 

Squall's eyes softened slightly, no longer sharply staring up at the gunman. Now that he knew why the lanky man had been so insistent at the door, his annoyance was easily vanquished. “Her roommate?” he asked.

 

“The squadron is on its way as we speak,” Irvine answered. He was unable to read the change in bright grey-blue eyes. He felt a slight wavering in the gunblade held to his neck. His shifted to see the blond out of the corner of his eyes. Whatever momentary lapse in the knight was gone. He saw nothing but an angry glare in those green eyes.

 

“No,” Squall asserted. This was his matter to take care of. He doubted Rinoa would appreciate being tracked down like a target. “Send word for them to pull out. I'm going myself.” His orders were not to be questioned. He nimbly slid from the wall and moved away.

 

“Sir?” Irvine asked, confused. One moment he thought he was talking to Squall and the next it was to the commander. Was there no recourse for his behavior? Just what did it take to send the brunet over the edge? Why could he act so brashly and the man wouldn't even flinch, yet Seifer could simply give an odd glance and Squall would react with intense emotion?

 

“Now, Kinneas,” Squall called over his shoulder.

 

It was clear that the cold voice in which the slender man spoke was Irvine's temporary punishment for butting in and acting out of line. Watching Squall disappear through the door, he turned his amethyst eyes to the blond. The gunblade at his throat was removed. Glaring, he hissed, “He's not your toy, Almasy.”

 

Green eyes sharpened and warily surveyed violet ones. Grinning cockily, Seifer returned, “My birthday has come early this year and I've been a good boy.” He watched the outraged expression distort the gunman's handsome face. Having done his job, he stole away into the apartment and closed the door.

 

Slipping into his worn in bomber jacket, Squall was ready to go as soon as Seifer came back in. The blond eyed him knowingly. There almost seemed a twinge of sadness in those green eyes. When the taller man made no move to sheath Hyperion or put on his trench coat, Squall prompted, “I'd like to leave sometime soon.”

 

Fine blond eyebrows rose for a moment before understanding set in. A moment later Seifer had slid his dark coat on and was ready to leave. As Squall walked past him, he couldn't suppress a small smile. His eyes traveled to the fine ass he'd had his hands on not that long ago.

 

 

--

 

Lily Madison was the manager of the Trends shop in Dollet. Her relationship with Rinoa Heartilly had begun two years before the war. The young raven-haired sorceress had been a regular customer. Lily had become friends with the political activists even though they rarely saw each other. When Rinoa had showed up and needed a place to stay, she had been more than accommodating. She had also done her part in keeping quiet about Rinoa's presence in Dollet.

 

--

 

The trip to Dollet felt like an everlasting ride that wouldn't end. As much as Seifer wanted to discuss the kiss, he was reluctant to broach the topic. He wasn't some little schoolgirl who couldn't understand. He didn't need Squall to explain it. It was just impossible to know what was going on inside that pretty little head of the commander's.

 

As the boat moved swiftly and smoothly across the waters, Seifer stared unabashedly at the quiet brunet. If the cowboy hadn't interrupted, they would most likely be going at it in the bedroom right now. Would Squall have stopped? The responsiveness from the surprisingly lustful kitten suggested a willingness to go all the way. He was more confused and frustrated now that he had tasted his rival, a flavor he would not easily forget. If it had felt strange and unnatural, he would have been relieved, but it had felt arousing and passionate. Was he the only one who felt inclined to doing it again? Squall had gone cold again almost instantly, as if their heated kiss had no affect. Was it because of Rinoa? Would Caraway's princess steal away his chance for more?

 

It was clear to Seifer that his sudden attraction was more than some consequence for not having sex on a regular basis. He had made that discovery when he had been unable to get hard for the pretty blonde with dark sultry eyes, a slim figure, and breasts the size of the Lunatic Pandora. The only flicker of arousal he had felt while undressing her had been when he'd pictured Squall in her place. Naturally, he had stormed from her dorm room and waited for the commander's return while wallowing in seething anger.

 

Currently, Seifer was unable to keep his eyes from following every subtle movement the brunet made. He was beyond curious at the thoughts running through the younger man's mind. He was also quite eager to taste soft lips again.

 

Eventually Squall caught staring eyes. There seemed to be many questions that the blond wanted to ask him. Squall understood how the knight felt. He was confused and had many questions of his own, but was too preoccupied to become distracted.

 

Squall had no idea why he had called out to Seifer and initiated another kiss. His head had been clouded at the time, having just been manhandled and assaulted. Oddly, his actions had actually been quite precise considering he hadn't been thinking, instinctive and without hesitancy and regard for consequence.

 

A dull throb informed Squall that thinking too much had its consequences. With sheer force of willpower, he concentrated on his task at hand, planning what he would do once he found Rinoa.

 

The trip was short, but gave Squall enough time to review Lily Madison's background. He wasn't surprised that Rinoa had friends he knew nothing about, since the young sorceress was a very outgoing person and he had known her for less than a year.

 

Squall's initial fear when Rinoa first disappeared was that she had been kidnapped. It was now apparent that he had been dumped. What other explanation was there? Still, he wasn't going to assume anything just yet, not until he spoke with her first.

 

“Commander,” the pilot's voice broke through Squall's reverie.

 

They were docking.

 

“Yes, go ahead,” Squall gave permission. As the vessel slowed, the gentle rocking of the waves became noticeable.

 

When they came to a stop Squall watched as the door released with a hiss of compressed air and extended down to the wooden dock. For a city by the ocean, Dollet didn't utilize its resource. The harbor was ancient, repairs a decade overdue. Before disembarking, he informed the pilot and copilot, “You're relieved for the night. We meet tomorrow at eight, but be on standby.”

 

“Yes, sir!” came a rather happy and synced reply from the captain and copilot. The commander had basically given them leave to party in Dollet for the night.

 

Stepping from the cramped space within the hull, Squall straightened his back. Beside him, Seifer stretched rather dramatically and groaned.

 

“Geez, they make those things so damn small.”

 

“Perhaps you're just too big,” Squall commented with a starting step forward.

 

Seifer grinned. At least it wasn't tense and awkward between them. Inhaling the salty sea air, he watched Squall walk ahead a bit. His grin turning into a wolfish smirk, he let his eyes gaze at the commander firm ass. He liked it better when Squall wore the leather pants and the material stretched more tightly to leave almost nothing to the imagination.

 

Seifer's lecherous side had given him renewed vigor. The prospect of having Squall's slim body all to himself was all the encouragement he needed. Rinoa wouldn't stand a chance against him.

 

Trotting to catch up, Seifer silently declared war. If Squall was going to be with Rinoa then there was a confrontation ahead. It wasn't like him to stir up serious trouble when it wasn't warranted, but he wasn't willing to hand his rival over before he even figured out what it was he wanted. If the kiss were the tip of the iceberg in regards to what the reticent brunet had to offer, then he would have the man one way or another.

 

Dollet was a bustling city. The streets were crowded, traffic and passersby everywhere. Seifer was reminded of Timber. Gait lengthening, he came even with the shorter man and kept an equal pace. “Holiday shopping,” he commented dryly, holding a slight distain for the crowded sidewalk they were on.

 

“Nnh,” Squall replied. The air was cold and he hadn't worn his gloves. He buried his hands into his jacket's pockets in much the same manner as Seifer was doing beside him.

 

With the two easily recognizable figures walking in stride by each other's side, it was a rather attention grabbing sight. Famous or not, attention was warranted for the pair of rivals who were quite handsome.

 

“How much farther is this place?” Seifer asked, eyeing the drawing crowd around them. This would be the first public display of Ultimecia's knight being the bodyguard of the world's beloved Balamb lion.

 

“Not far,” Squall grumbled, also eyeing the crowd. He burrowed his face lower into the soft fur collar of his jacket. A gentle hand ruffled his hair. No longer having the instinct to shake it off, Squall let Seifer tousle his hair for as long as the ex-knight wanted to. This was the first time they'd been in contact since they had kissed in his apartment. Simply knowing this brought forth lingering feelings.

 

For some time, Seifer had noticed the insecure look to Squall's eyes. Vast numbers of people put the brunet on edge. Squally-boy had never liked being around anyone and loathed public places in general. His instinct to place an arm around the man's slender shoulders was surprising, but he settled for simply tousling silky hair. A small, satisfied smirk came to his face when he noticed the commander's lack of protest against his condescending touch. In fact, a light blush crept to those pale cheeks, making him beyond curious what was going on inside the other's head.

 

Placing his hand back in his coat pocket, Seifer said evenly, “Give it a couple years and they might find something else to look at.”

 

“That's a couple years too long,” Squall replied, keeping his head bowed and out of sight while he spoke.

 

Sounding an agreement, Seifer ventured further, “Want me to give them something else to look at?”

 

Scoffing, Squall lifted his face. “And risk the safety of this city?”

 

Seifer chuckled. “Distractions are meant to draw attention, which usually means a few blown up buildings.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Squall laughed quietly. It was only amusing because he didn't doubt that the blond would actually do it.

 

They walked down yet another block, passing various shops and cafés on the way. Finally as they round the corner, they came to their destination. The store was hardly eye catching. One of many connected buildings along the street, there was a neon blue sign that displayed the name of the store.

 

A bell sounded as they walked through the main entrance. There were no customers, which was the first thing Squall noticed about the inside. As the door closed with a chime behind them the loud voices and cars from outside were droned down. Shelves and wracks of various clothes lined the walls.

 

Squall walked farther in, making his way to the counter. He didn't like clothing stores. Clothes were meant to be functional, not fashionable, and rarely both.

 

A woman came out of the back room. “I'm sorry we're closed for the day,” she said from behind a tall stack of boxes.

 

Seifer glanced behind to the shops display window. Two mannequins were posed with as lifelike a structure as any plastic sculpture could have, donning matching clothes of jeans and sharp dress shirts. In front of the life-sized dolls was a sign. The side Seifer could see read `open'. Naturally that meant the other side would read `closed'. He hadn't even taken noticed.

 

“Lily Madison?” Squall asked, not caring that the store had been closed. He had read the sign before entering, but the door hadn't been locked and the lights were on.

 

The woman stopped abruptly before hastily setting the many boxes on the counter. Straightening up she turned to the two men. For a moment she forgot herself. A faint, humble blush came to her face when she recognized the clothes the commander and the clothes the slender man was wearing. The other young man looked familiar, but the name that came to mind wasn't likely. Perhaps he was just a model she'd seen at a few fashion shows.

 

Squall waited until the woman seemed to jolt from her slightly dreamy eyed look. She eventually gave a small nod. “Will you take me to see Rinoa?” he asked, getting straight to the point.

 

“O-of…. sure thing,” Lily agreed after some hesitant stuttering.

 

 

TBC… I'm thinking Cabaret. Instead of money, reviews make the world go around. I can't sing like Judy Garland or Liza Minnelli, but I can give you yummy yaoi action if you give me a review.