Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction ❯ Strings Attached ❯ It's Love ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter Two

It's Love

 

It had been quite a long time since the two gunblade specialists had had a decent spar like on that Saturday morning. With midterms coming up, Squall was surprised at the turn out for the event.

 

Pleasantly exhausted, Squall relished the subtle feel of his sore muscles. If they made the routine a daily ritual, as it had practically been before the war, then he'd be in better form in no time. It had been a relief to see that while his concerned friends had often commented on his weakened state, a certain blond knight being rather blunt about the fact, he wasn't so far gone.

 

Clean bill of health aside, sleeping and eating were not exactly the foremost priorities on his daily regimen. But, with his bossy, overbearing, arrogant bodyguard around it was impossible not to do both on a regular basis.

 

While Quistis was most enthused about the turn out of her little set up with bringing Seifer back, there were a few lesser-known aspects that she might not approve of.

 

Regardless of their strenuous exercise, Squall found himself pressed roughly against the wall of the locker room's shower. The white tiling was refreshingly cool against his back, but that was about the only relief his heated body received. The warm spray of several showerheads cascaded down from the left and right. With Seifer pressed flush against his bared form, seemingly entranced with marking his neck, there was no escaping the running water.

 

“Seifer, what's the point in running more than one, when you obviously can't shower alone?” the Commander reprimanded while trying to keep his mind focused. As enjoyable as shower sex could be, his sense of discrepancy had only increased, and he felt any more fondling for the day should be left for closed quarters.

 

Grinning at his own genius on the matter, Seifer gave a slick lap against his newest mark before raising his head to answer. “Given the gleam in your pretty blue eyes, I'd say you still have a taste for some rough handling.”

 

Before Squall could refute the ridiculous response, the taller blond jerked him forward and roughly grasped his ass while meshing their lips together. Water now at his back, it trailed down, warming cooled skin.

 

Stunned, the brunet was unprepared when the tanned man kneaded his cheeks, teasingly spreading them. Moaning in the kiss, the smaller man nearly whined at the sudden loss of each action. Opening his eyes, he encountered an arrogant grin. Lips pressed in a thin line, Squall scowled. Unable to deny what his body had just admitted, he questioned, “What does that have to do with your wasting of water?”

 

Seifer pulled back, reaching up to cup a pale face. Dark hair hung limply, heavy with water. Droplets rolled down, following each subtle contour of muscle beneath smooth skin. “You're unbelievably sexy when you're wet, so if we're moving around, I wanna make sure there's water nearby.”

 

“You're an idiot,” the younger man berated.

 

“But you love me anyway,” the knight countered, promptly pressing the lithe Commander's form back against the wall.

 

As a tongue sough entrance, Squall refused it. “The door,” the brunet tried to reason.

 

“Is locked,” Seifer lied. Nibbling on that plush lower lip, he sucked at it, begging entrance.

 

“There is no lock,” the Commander said through gritted teeth. He didn't trust himself, or Seifer, to not relent to deepening the kiss if his mouth opened.

 

“Raijin and Fujin are on it. They know I'm powerless against a wet and naked princess.”

 

Squall growled, “Don't call me that.”

 

Reacting quickly, Seifer took full advantage of his kitten's angry lapse. Sliding his tongue in, he ran it along every crevice in reach.

 

With the water pouring over them, Squall couldn't breath well. Opening his mouth further, he drew in both air and a greedy tongue. Succumbing to the knight's relentlessness and his own arousal, the brunet slid his own tongue against the blond's. When he sucked the wet appendage, a feral grunt of encouragement erupted from the ex-knight's throat.

 

Pressing his broad, tanned body closer, Seifer slid his knee between Squall's legs, rubbing it against the man's aroused penis.

 

**

 

“Hyne, I can't take this,” Raijin's voice rumbled in complaint.

 

“Take what?” an amicable voice drawled.

 

As Irvine came around the corner his violet eyes watched with curious amusement as the burly quarterstaff user blushed so deeply that it became evident against tan brown skin.

 

“How'd you get passed Fu?” the dark haired man asked, hiding his obvious discomfort.

 

The auburn haired gunman cocked a brow in confusion until faint noises drifted from within the locker room. Violet eyes narrowed.

 

Raijin slapped a pair of hands to his ears. It was barely audible, but when he knew exactly what was going on in there and with the vacant corridor they were in, every noise seemed louder than it really was.

 

Taking pity on the man, Irvine said, “I'll take over, you can go make sure no one comes from with in the Training Center.”

 

Blinking his dark brown eyes he slowly lowered his hands. Irvine wondered if he hadn't heard correctly. “I owe you one Kinneas,” Raijin thanked with the utmost relieved look before trotting away towards the inner sanctum full of monsters.

 

Irvine watched until the large man's form was out of sight. The gunman felt torn between his desire to barge in there and tell the couple to get a room or control themselves. But, considering his reputation, such words would hold no ground. Not to mention, if given the opportunity, he'd probably bend the Commander over that polished desk in the Headmaster's office without a care in the world who might walk in.

 

The muffled sounds of heavy panting and garbled cries of pleasure were possibly the most unsettling noises he had ever heard. Considering he'd more than once wooed a sweet lady into the men's locker room, he wondered if any passersby had ever heard. At the lust-ridden cry of the blond knight's name, Irvine clenched a fist. Squall and sex was not exactly a usual pairing of thoughts. Certainly, the Commander practically oozed with sexual appeal, much like himself, but the uptight and cold manner in which their leader conducted himself with, left too much to be wanted in a passionate partner.

 

At the distant, but obviously unbidden, order for the asshole knight to go harder, Irvine shook with rage and quickly reevaluated his assessment over Squall not being passionate. He'd heard plenty of wanton cries of pleasure, but Hyne help him, Squall's voice was shooting straight to his cock.

 

Gritting his teeth, the gunman cursed under his breath. Hadn't they already exhausted themselves with that spar of theirs? It was probably Almasy's doing, damn lecher probably couldn't keep his hands off Squall for two seconds.

 

When jealous and angry, not to mention rather turned on, Irvine didn't think logically. In truth, he would have found some way to hoard away with the lithe Commander for days at a time, doing nothing but screwing each other senseless.

 

What the hell did Squall see in the ex-knight? They'd all known each other as children, so why couldn't it be him? Why hadn't he noticed the Commander's appeal earlier on? There had been a prime opportunity right after Rinoa left. Warming a cold bed was exactly what he was best at.

 

At the climactic cry of orgasm, Irvine slouched in defeat. He could barely hear the Commander's voice, yet his mind played games, making the cries clear, as though he were right there in the room, as though he were the one causing them.

 

When the silence became unbroken, he became curious. With reckless abandon, Irvine took his hat off and pressed an ear against the door. Aside from hearing a showers spray, there was nothing. He waited.

 

When the water was turned off, he could hear their voices. Straining to catch the words, wishing he had some sort of glass or stethoscope, he tried still his breathing. Squall was saying something about getting dressed. Briefly, Irvine wondered if there had been a bet between the two of them. Their voices became louder, as if they'd walked from the showers to the actual lockers.

 

“Say it,” the knight's deeper voice spoke.

 

There was no reply. Irvine could just picture an expressionless glare that the Commander had perfected to substitute words.

 

“For me, say it.”

 

Irvine frowned, wondering what `it' was. Almasy was pushy, and while that seemed the only way to get Squall to do certain things, like eat and sleep, he didn't like it.

 

“You said you didn't need to hear it,” the softer voice of their leader replied.

 

“That was before,” the knight responded, “When you didn't know if it was true.”

 

“Why do you always need to hear it? Do you not believe me?”

 

“No,” came the firm answer. “But, you have no idea what it makes me feel when I hear you say it.”

 

There was another bout of silence.

 

“Seifer,” the Commander's voice held an oddly gentle tone, “I love you.”

 

Violet eyes widened. Jerking away from the door as though burned, Irvine stared incredulously. Was this a joke? It wasn't all that long ago that they hated each other. He understood the need for release, which was what he'd assumed their relationship was about. He'd estimated it to be a month at the most, full of rutting like heated felines. But what the hell was this about love?

 

What in Hyne's name was this? Fuck buddies was one thing, possibly the only reason he wasn't openly throwing a fit, but being seriously involved with each other was another matter.

 

Between his anger over not realizing exactly what had been going on right in front of his eyes, his jealousy that was afflicting him to greater lengths than he'd estimated, and his even greater anger that he couldn't simply ignore these feelings so that they went away, Irvine glared harshly at the door. Turning, he stalked away. He needed to think, he needed to talk with Selphie.

 

**

 

As Squall pulled a plain white t-shirt over his head, he said, “No more public places.”

 

Seifer stilled his hands as they buttoned a black dress shirt. Green eyes studied the set profile of his princess' face. The Balamb Lion was truly turning out to be a shy kitten. “Afraid someone will see?” he teased.

 

Squall frowned. Roughly tugging his shirt to ride lower, he sat down on the bench to put his boots on. “I'm serious,” he replied tersely.

 

Feeling a little defensive that Squall could suddenly ignore the fact that they'd just had mind-blowing sex, Seifer retorted, “I don't think I was the only one who enjoyed it.”

 

With a roll of gray-blue eyes, the brunet testily tightened his laces. Done with one boot, he adjusted the pant cuff of his jeans and started with the other.

 

Seifer raked a hand through his wet hair. He wasn't angry or anything, just confused. Squall had mentioned not wanting to do it where someone might chance upon them, but beyond that there had been little argument. Stepping closer, he bent down and wrapped his arms around the brunet. Pressing his to chilled damp locks, he placed a chaste kiss against the younger man's temple. “If that's what you want,” he whispered in an almost apologetic tone.

 

Squall stiffened abruptly, grabbing onto the blond's arms before he could draw away. He felt stupid for discrepancy on the matter. Maybe he was just too tired to think straight.

 

Needing more time to explain himself better, not wanting Seifer to think he hadn't enjoyed it, Squall toyed with the undone cuff of the dark shirt. Drawing an arm away, Squall proceeded to button it for the ex-knight.

 

Seifer leaned into the action, resting against the brunet's back. After the rather active morning, he felt ready for a nap. But, Squall would never go for it, so he was resigned to trailing through the day. A lunch with the Commander's father didn't sound too stressful, which was where they were heading.

 

As Squall finished buttoning the last cuff, he held onto the larger, calloused hand. Quietly, he spoke, “I'm not an exhibitionist, but I'd do it for you.”

 

Green eyes widened in surprise. Seifer almost laughed at himself. His kitten was not just a little shy, he was extremely shy. Hyne, he almost forgot that the younger boy had been a virgin prior to his corruption. Tag on the naturally introverted nature, and it was no wonder Squall didn't like being intimate when privacy wasn't guaranteed. He had known this, but it was difficult to remember when the lithe body writhed beneath him and cried out in such a wanton manner.

 

Pulling his hand from the light grasp, he wrapped his arms around the smaller brunet. Squeezing tightly, he relied on the knowledge that the Commander wasn't as fragile as he looked, knowing his strong grip wouldn't break him.

 

With a soft chuckle, Seifer nuzzled a clean scented neck. Was it possible to fall further in love with someone? It felt like his attachment grew daily.

 

“Sometimes I can't help myself,” the knight began, still nuzzling the neck but nothing further, “Trust me though, the last thing I want is for other people to see this side of you. Your mine, and if they saw you like that, they'd try and take you from me.”

 

Squall sighed. “You're an idiot,” he commented.

 

Seifer grinned. Was it wrong to love hearing that phrase? “So, does this mean, that if we keep it in the apartment, you'll dress up for me?”

 

“Seifer!” Squall bit out harshly.

 

Seifer laughed at this. “Oh, I'm not giving up. The thought of you makin' me breakfast in nothing but that apron is too damn hot.”

 

When Squall didn't humor the notion with a response, Seifer let go to finish getting dressing. Tucking his shirttail into his dark gray slacks, he chuckled once more at his inner musings. “I hear they have some kinky shops in Deling City, maybe we could get you a nurses uniform or something.”

 

Squall cringed. “The fact that you sound half serious makes me question your sanity,” he commented wryly.

 

“Come on Squally-boy, give me something.”

 

With a small smirk, Squall glanced to Lionheart, which was propped against a nearby locker.

 

“Kill joy,” Seifer pouted, reading the message well enough.

 

Standing up, Squall fastened his belt. Taking his gunblade in hand, he made the uncommon decision to drop it off at the apartment instead of holstering it. “You're more likely to win Irvine's favor back and get him to cosplay for you.”

 

“Shit,” the blond cursed, “You just ruined every image I had of you.”

 

“Then my job's done,” Squall replied, crossing his arms and waiting for the ex-knight to finish up.

 

**

 

When Squall and Seifer entered the cafeteria, they were a bit surprised at the sudden cheering that broke out. A roaring clapping from the crowded dining hall deafened all other sounds except for the occasional whistle and vocal cries.

 

Confused, Squall looked up at Seifer, wondering if he'd missed something. The blond gave a shrug and continued walking to a frantically waving Selphie and a clapping Laguna. At the table, not Squall's preferred one in the corner, sat the two enthusiasts and a more collected Kiros.

 

“You're fight was awesome!” Selphie sang. Having vacated the premise as soon as she'd made her announcements, she hadn't taken the time to express her awe.

 

Light brows furrowed as Seifer leveled the chipper girl with an odd stare. “It was no different than usual.”

 

With an exaggerated roll of shining green eyes, the copper haired girl replied, “That might be, but no one ever got a chance to watch you guys before. You were always so secretive, running off to the beach or some special spot.”

 

Kiros sat calmly, sipping a mug of hot tea. “It was quite impressive,” the advisor spoke admittedly.

 

Seifer thought to comment that what happened in the locker room afterwards was even more impressive, but he doubt that would earn any action for him later on. Instead, he reached out and ruffled still damp brown locks. “I would have had your ass if I'd remembered about you knife.”

 

Frowning, Squall glared at the knight beside him. “That was a rookie's mistake.”

 

Seifer scoffed, but relented to the fact that he should have known better. Lacking a good come back, he simply stated, “I almost had you.”

 

“So who usually wins?” Laguna questioned with interest.

 

“I do,” came the oddly synced reply from both fighters.

 

While Selphie and Laguna laughed at the response, Kiros eyed the sorceress' knight keenly.

 

Seifer remained oblivious to the steady gaze, or at least ignored it.

 

“Hey guys!” Zell's voice called out. Trotting closer, the blond boxer pulled a slightly unwilling young woman with him.

 

Squall recognized her quickly, taking in a better mental note now that he knew her as Zell's wife. Greta Menavich, Balamb Garden's head chef, with wavy red hair and golden brown eyes. She wasn't portly or exactly chubby, but she was a bit heavier than Quistis or Selphie. Then again, given the lifestyle of SeeD there was a chance that Quistis and Selphie were underweight.

 

Greta held a slight blush against pale, slightly freckled skin. Her long skirt swayed as she followed Zell towards Commander Leonhart and the small group.

 

Selphie sprang into action immediately, moving in a blue of bright pink, which she had yet to account for as either an odd fashion change or work clothes. When Zell stopped, grinning toothily, the expressive pilot launched herself and latched onto the newly wed woman.

 

“This is Greta!” she cried, “My new sister.”

 

“Selphie,” Zell chastised, “Leave her alone. She's not your sister,”

 

“Then sister-in-law, it's all good,” the green eyed girl replied.

 

Bashfully, the red headed woman blushed deeper, eyes averted to stare at the ground.

 

“I'm not your brother!” Zell replied, cutting the air.

 

“Yes you are,” Selphie retorted, “So's Squall and Seifer and, well, not Irvine. But that's different.”

 

Laguna leaned back in his seat, laughing at the odd proclamation.

 

“Selphie,” Squall spoke up. “I believe we've already met,” he turned his attention to an uncomfortable looking chef. He knew exactly how she felt. At the almost nervous look in Zell's blue eyes, the brunet bit the bullet and forced himself to say with a warm tone and fairly believable smile, “Welcome to the family.”

 

Hesitantly, Greta smiled brightly. “Thank you,” she expressed with heartfelt emotion.

 

Just as Selphie released her hold, Zell wrapped his arms around his wife. “See? They don't bite,” the spiky blond murmured.

 

“So,” Seifer began with a smirk, “Chicken-wu-” Seifer was cut off, sounding an exhaling `oomph' as he took an elbow to the stomach. Coughing mildly, he corrected under the harsh glare from Squall, “Dincht got hitched. Never thought I'd see the day.”

 

Normally, Zell would have boxed the air in annoyance, making a non-verbal challenge, but his arms were busily holding onto the love of his life. “That might fly better, Almasy, if you weren't dating Squall.”

 

At the wide-eyed look from the red head, Zell cursed. “Ah, woops.”

 

Squall shook his head. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he reminded himself that it could have been worse. Zell could have said it over a broadcasting system.

 

“Ah, sorry `bout that,” the shorter blond apologized.

 

“It's fine,” Squall assured, not feeling the truth to his words in the least.

 

“You won't tell nobody, right babe?” Zell questioned. At the shake of his wife's head, he placed a quick kiss to her cheek.

 

Selphie grinned madly. “You guys can go through the tunnel of love.”

 

Before anyone could think to question this apparent attraction the energetic young woman was creating for the festival, the approach of a first year cadet caught their eye.

 

“Commander Leonhart,” Rui greeted.

 

Squall turned to the boy, knowing the dark haired kid tended to only approach with reason to talk to him specifically.

 

“That fight was amazing,” the former thief spoke with an admiring look to both the tall knight and the Commander.

 

“Hey,” Seifer greeted in mock enthusiasm, “It's the kid, who likes to steal my time with Squall away.” Regardless of the thief's change in attitude, he was still causing trouble. Squall was set on a revamping of the education system, and he was working along side the little thief to get it done. That meant weekly meetings, which was time Seifer couldn't spend groping the Commander.

 

“Seifer,” Squall reprimanded.

 

Rui seemed unfazed. “Since everyone knew I had the sign up sheets for new classes, they all came to me earlier. There were like fifty of `em that wanted to become gunblade specialists.”

 

Squall frowned, “We already have that option.”

 

Seifer scoffed, “Yeah, if you call that one unit of training on it being a specialization.”

 

“There was no interest,” the brunet commented. They didn't have the option to create whole classes for each specialty of weapon. As it was, the gunblade was hardly anybody's weapon of choice. It was bulky, heavy, and took hours of practice each day just to learn the basics.

 

“Squall, we're heading out,” Zell interrupted, announcing his leave.

 

With a distracted nod, Squall didn't watch as Zell and Greta left, so he didn't see that Selphie hugged the chef's arm while talking excitedly and following along.

 

Thinking to himself for a few moments, the pale brunet considered Rui's information.

 

Seifer sighed heavily, more than aware that he could start cursing and Squall probably wouldn't take any notice. Stupid brat, coming along and making his kitten go into work mode. Defeated, the blond grumpily sat down at the table.

 

Folding his arms, he grumbled, “Damn workaholic. It's the weekend.”

 

“You should take notes Laguna,” Kiros commented.

 

“All work and no play gives you wrinkles,” the longhaired president exclaimed with mock fear.

 

Unbidden by the fact that it was Squall's father, Seifer commented brashly, “So that's why you look so damn young.”

 

Despite himself, Kiros laughed at the comment. Even Laguna found it amusing, though not quite as much as his dark skinned advisor.

 

TBC…