Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction ❯ Strings Attached ❯ Fulfilling a Need ( Chapter 14 )

Warning: Explicit content and all that jazz.

 

Chapter Fourteen

Fulfilling a Need

 

Squall stood at the long table, only himself and Quistis were there, and forty or so other reporters. He'd grudgingly donned his uniform, deflating Seifer's plans on giving him another hickie, which the knight had gone ahead and done anyway.

 

The group was surprisingly more mild mannered than usual, almost as though they'd held some sort of etiquette briefing before hand and decided to kindly take turns asking questions so that the Commander didn't need to pick and choose.

 

It began all too quickly, and Squall didn't think it'd ever end soon enough.

 

“Commander, it is well known that Seifer Almasy has returned to Balamb Garden. Under what circumstances have you allowed this to happen?”

 

“He's my bodyguard,” Squall admitted tersely, hating how it made him sound incapable.

 

“There are rumors of a threat against you, are you confirming this?”

 

“I don't see how Mr. Almasy being my bodyguard confirms anything,” the brunet replied evenly. They were less than a couple minutes into this and he was ready to throttle every person in the room. Where was Laguna when he needed the man? He didn't even get any breaks between these questions.

 

With an icy glance down towards Quistis, Squall expressed his dislike for it all, wondering once more why it was necessary and why he needed to be partake in it.

 

“As a former sorceress' knight, would you allow him to become SeeD?”

 

Squall sighed and actually gave into the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, openly showing his ill content with the event. If his decisions as Commander were going to be questioned by civilian reporters who knew nothing of being a mercenary, then why was he given any right to run Garden on his own in the first place? Why not make everyone an official member and let them all give suggestions on what he could do better?

 

“Mr. Almasy was pardoned of all war crimes. And I'm inclined to thinking that a person's past record has little relevance as a mercenary.” He knew that was the wrong answer. Now there would be speculation of Seifer becoming SeeD.

 

“In your article, you make mention that while mercenary ideals are upheld to best of SeeDs ability, that it is futile to take the humanity out of the human. Commander Martine has refuted this argument publicly, what is your response to your senior's disapproval?”

 

Frowning, Squall tried to recall what article the reporter was talking about. It took him a moment, but he remembered writing a simple piece about the nature of mercenaries upon request of both Quistis and some university in Deling City. After writing the thing, he hadn't really paid attention to what anyone thought of it.

 

“I stand by my argument,” he commented at length.

 

“Could you elaborate?” the same reporter followed up, his voice sounding more hopeful than brash.

 

Squall stared at the man for a moment, hesitating. He was reluctant to answer, but he eventually concluded that perhaps the rest of the conference would follow this topic's direction. “In my experience, which is no less reputable in comparison to Commander Martine's, SeeD do not emulate heartless fighters.” He paused, wondering if such words could possibly be believed from someone like himself. To those who did not know him, his words probably sounded annoyingly hypocritical.

 

When the room seemed about to fall into chaotic flashes and questions again, he spoke further, “Being called an Ice Prince, does not mean you are one.” His eyes roved over the dozens of men and women staring up at him. They all seemed to have expectant expressions, like he was supposed to be giving them something. It was frustrating that he didn't know what it was they wanted. “I'm not ashamed to admit that emotions have gotten the better of me at times, even while on assignment. Fighting without bias is what we strive for, but money cannot outweigh the humanity in all of us.” He felt the pit of his stomach drop as he dared to publicly scrutinize Martine. “Surely, Commander Martine would not fight for a sorceress such as Ultimecia simply because she held the largest purse.”

 

There was silence, and Squall knew even without that silence of slightly shocked expressions that he'd pretty much accepted the challenge Galbadia had been proposing. Where he had previously ignored all opinions and statements made about his role as Commander of Balamb, he now replied in turn. The political war would begin, which was just perfect considering what was still in store for the unsuspecting group.

 

To Squall's surprise, he found that Quistis was smiling in a near uncontrollable manner only a few seats away. At least she was happy, though he doubted it would last much longer.

 

The tense moment seemed to be forgotten once scribbling pens slowed and cameras started going off once more.

 

A hand rose in the back and a middle-aged woman stood to ask her question. “Rinoa Heartilly has been living in Dollet for the passed couple months. It is rumored that you have broken up. Can you confirm this?”

 

“Miss Heartily and myself have parted ways, yes.” Squall wondered why it sounded so cold when he finally said it. However, at the wide-eyed response he received from the woman who'd asked him the question, he doubted his cold air was what she'd remember. Apparently, his giving an actual answer hadn't been anticipated.

 

Immediately, the room was directed towards his personal life. The bees flocked to honey.

 

“Sir, are you seeing anyone now?”

 

With contempt, Squall glared at the questioner. Couldn't they perhaps lead up to that question first? “I-” he faltered, dismayed that his every action was going to give him away. “I am seeing someone,” he finally managed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Quistis blanch so quickly she looked sickly.

 

For a moment, Squall thought the Head Instructor would stand and call an end to the conference. But the damage was already half done. If they didn't find out from him, they'd hound Rinoa until she spilled everything.

 

Suddenly all hands went up, vying to be the ones to ask the all-important question. The rush of sound filled the room, escalating to the point where he couldn't hear himself think.

 

“Commander!” they all seemed to shout at once.

 

For Squall, everything seemed to just slow to a crawl. At random, he gestured to a reporter in the front row. He swallowed nervously as the young man stood up with a smug look on his face.

 

Hyne, this was it. He felt rather sick, it was the nearest thing to suicide without physically killing himself. The reign of fire that the press and other Gardens would bring would never truly end.

 

It suddenly seemed like a smart idea to simply say `no comment' or to tell reporters that it wasn't their business. That was when his eyes found his, Seifer's. In the back, surprisingly unnoticeable mingled in with everyone else. Those jade eyes held his for a moment. There was no expectancy in them, no pressure to lean one way or the other. It wasn't too late to save himself from a little grief. Yet, looking into Seifer's eyes he was reminded of why he'd come to his decision of being open in the first place. He wasn't going to sing the praises of his lover from every rooftop, but he also wasn't going to keep secret about the one person he truly loved.

 

“Can you tell us who you are involved with?” came the inevitable question.

 

Such interest in his personal affairs begged the question of whether most people thought his role as Commander was some elaborate joke. He was a fighter, he made a living by killing things and people. At what point did being a mercenary become a part of pop culture? Just because he'd aided in defeating Ultimecia could not have been the only reason.

 

Squall gave an almost imperceptible nod, which was returned by Seifer. “It isn't exactly a secret that Seifer Almasy and myself have known one another for many years now. He's here, acquitted of all crimes, to serve as my bodyguard and to be with me.”

 

There was a collective double take, no one seemed to think they'd heard correctly or that they were drawing the right conclusions from his words.

 

“Sir, are you implying that you and Mr. Almasy are… romantically involved?”

 

It was almost amusing how disbelieving the reporters voice sounded. “Yes,” Squall affirmed. The world would come to a halt over the outrageous news, not only for what the news was but because it had been released in the first place. Where he previously spouted a repetitive stream of `no comments', he was now baring all without threat of immediate death to every listener.

 

He might as well have raised his arms up and cried out for the games to begin and told Martine to try and top that.

 

Before madness could break out and the reporters could grasp the gravity of the golden egg they'd been given, Quistis stood up and unceremoniously called an end to the conference. While they didn't usually go by time limits, the conferences lasted at least an hour, which was fifty minutes more than this one had gone on for.

 

Behind closed doors in the dignitary conference room where the real issues were discussed, the Head Instructor slapped her hand down on the shiny black table.

 

“Dammit,” she cursed, “You could have a little more sense than to just blurt it out.”

 

“There are only so many ways of saying it, it all boils down to the same message,” Squall shot back.

 

“I thought we agreed that it would be best to wait a little longer-”

 

“I didn't agree to anything. The longer I waited the bigger a mess it would have become. And before you concern yourself with the press, I suggest you send notice to Commanders Zephlar and Trent and Headmaster Martine.”

 

“Yes, they'll be thrilled,” the blonde instructor exclaimed sarcastically.

 

Seifer entered from the other end of the room wearing black slacks, a plain white dress shirt and slightly crooked black tie. He also wore a rather smug grin.

 

As Quistis walked toward the arrogant blond knight, she stopped and jabbed her finger against his chest, consequently hurting herself, but not letting on to that fact. “You put him up to this didn't you.”

 

“That was brilliant princess,” Seifer said, looking right over Trepe's head and grinning at Squall. The brunet didn't seem too thrilled, but he was elated. “Where's your sense of adventure Trepe. Look at it like this, if you can keep things from going to hell after this, then there's nothing else that'll give you trouble in this world.”

 

“Yeah, I'm ecstatic Seifer. We've got a homosexual Commander and the whole of Galbadia Garden wishing Squall would drop dead before he continues to run this place.”

 

“Hey,” Seifer bit out rather harshly, “Let the press print whatever shit they want, but I don't want to hear you repeating it in front of either of us. Besides, Squally-boy isn't gay, as you've previously been informed. I'm just too damn sexy for anyone to resist.”

 

“You're too damn cocky,” Quistis corrected, feeling a little sorry for speaking without thinking first. She shot an apologetic glance back towards Squall, but found the Commander staring at the floor in a sulking manner. “I'll go contact Galbadia, hopefully before anyone else does.”

 

Squall gave an absent nod, suddenly feeling numb to what was happening. Before he could think of where his day went from there, strong hands clapped his shoulders, kneading them through the stiff material of his uniform.

 

“Let's get you out of these clothes,” Seifer said, walking behind the smaller man.

 

Squall gave another absent nod, liking the prospect of discarding his scratchy and high collared jacket for something far more worn in, such as his fur collared bomber one. There was also the favorable prospect of what would happen in between taking his clothes off and putting another set on. There was only ever one time when he was able to forget about his responsibilities and problems, and that was when Seifer was fucking him raw.

 

“Will you fuck me?” Squall mumbled.

 

Seifer pulled the brunet back against his chest, wrapping his arms around the other's smaller frame. Leaning down, he nipped the pale boy's earlobe playfully before responding, “Of course, we've got all day if you like.”

 

While Squall was more than appreciative of what Seifer intended, he had a slightly different idea in mind. He shook his head slightly before saying, “We can make love later, I want…” He wasn't entirely certain what he wanted. “I just want you inside me. I want it hard.” He knew he should feel embarrassed at making such a request, but he would consider that later, after he'd gotten what he wanted.

 

“Oh,” Seifer whispered knowingly, “You want me to screw you until you can't think or walk straight.” He was a little dismayed, considering he'd been slowly progressing towards to more time consuming romps that weren't about the mere gratification of sex. But, Squall looked like he needed it.

 

**

 

There was no room for hesitancy or faltering guilt. When it came right down to it, Squall could handle it, and Seifer knew this without a doubt. After training and fighting with the sultry brunet, Seifer was the only person who knew exactly where Squall's limits were, perhaps even better than the younger man did.

 

So when the broad framed knight shoved his willing counter part up against the wall just inside their apartment, he didn't stop at the grunt rung from the brunet upon collision. Before the door had slid shut behind them, he had Squall pressed back and out of that stiff SeeD jacket without acknowledging that buttons should be undone first. He didn't even register the clacking noise as those brass buttons hit the tile and rolled away. Beneath the jacket was a black t-shirt, which he didn't bother taking off, since it gave him leverage to haul the brunet higher against the wall.

 

Throughout this fevered affair, Seifer's lips never left Squall's. It was gruff and demanding and quite possibly the most lust filled moment they'd shared.

 

The blond knight plunged his tongue deeper, tangling it with the panting Commander's. Lips were rouged with swelled bruising under the crushing manner they meshed their lips.

 

Sliding his knee between the brunet's legs, Seifer roughly gripped the other's slim waist and pulled him forward.

 

Mind fogged and consumed by the need for every touch and taste, Squall took the hint and wrapped his legs around Seifer's waist. The feel of supporting hands were at his back, slipping beneath his shirt and groping along his torso in heated trails.

 

Seifer pushed Squall to the brink, overwhelmed by his racing heart and dick that was throbbing without even being touched. The pale boy was at a loss, always falling short of breath first since Seifer was usually staging some of their best battles there. Seifer knew when to back off though, letting Squall toss his head back and gulp in air. He in turn directed his focus else where, the pale and slender neck begging to be sucked on and marked up.

 

“Seifer,” Squall gasped as he became completely drunk with lust. Wrapping his arms about the ex-knight, he hitched higher and groaned at the hands that groped his ass to keep him balanced.

 

Seifer was beyond remembering why he ever wanted to take it slower. At that point, he couldn't get enough and he couldn't get it fast enough. He cursed the creator of clothes. There should be some law that decreed all people who looked as fucking hot as Squall should not be allowed to wear clothing.

 

There was a sense of déjà vu when Seifer recalled an image of their first kiss. It was against that very wall and he'd done it in much the same forceful manner as he was currently handling Squall. The pleasant difference was that instead of having to pin Squall's arms back from punching him, the brunet was wrapped around him with a hard on pressing against his stomach.

 

“Sweet Hyne,” the blond muttered in disbelief. Given his track record, he must have done something saintly in another life to deserve this. Elegant fingers were twined in his hair, giving voice to the usually silent man's wants, encouraging him to go on and never stop.

 

In a blur of less than graceful movements, the pair frantically tore at each other's clothes. Squall actually wound up without pants before his boots were removed. And Seifer hadn't ever understood the necessity of being clearheaded when donning or discarding clothing, which was pointed out when his hands became stuck in his shirt cuffs. It was frustrating to try and grab hold of a lithe brunet who seemed amused by his predicament while too turned on to stay off him.

 

It was a wonder they managed to make it to the bedroom, at which point they found making it to the bed just as challenging as crossing the apartment flat.

 

Seifer was becoming more skilled with preparing Squall, perhaps a little too skilled. The brunet writhed against his fingers. An expression of concentration came over Squall, it was almost like the young man were in agony.

 

“Seifer, hurry, just put it in,” Squall hissed through gritted teeth. If Seifer kept brushing over his prostate gland, he was going to come. It was an almost painful task to force his body to settle down and wait.

 

Any other time, Seifer would have ignored the sprawled minx's plea, he would have taken his time. But this first round was about what Squall wanted, and the brunet wanted it hard and fast.

 

Complying with Squall's words, Seifer kneeled between parted legs and coated his pulsing member. In one swift movement, he pushed inside of Squall. The brunet arched his head back and gripped the bedding beneath with white knuckles. With a curse, the blond took a few deep breaths to keep himself from coming on the spot.

 

Squall was taking similar breaths, his bare chest rising and falling while his head was pressed back into the bed and his eyes were scrunched shut. It was overwhelming. The pain was almost a welcome feeling that foretold of what was to follow and what exactly was going on. Seifer was buried inside him, he could feel that the knight was close, the heat was almost scorching and the fulfillment was beyond gratifying. The pain receded a bit, but he couldn't wait any longer.

 

Rocking against the ex-knight Squall felt himself filled just a little more as he pushed forward. The blond gave a husky groan. Seifer hands gripped his hips and raised him off the bed slightly before giving a good thrust.

 

“Aah,” Squall's mouth fell open as the blond began.

 

Seifer was biting the inside of his mouth, straining not to come yet. It was so tight, gripping his length mercilessly. He knew there was no stopping the inevitable when he felt his balls clench and his cock twitch. He thrust faster and harder, unwrapping Squall's legs from his waist and gripping them behind the knee. Leaning down, he angled himself and drove against the brunet's sweet spot, wringing uninhibited moans from the blue-eyed sex demon.

 

“Seifer!” Squall cried, unable to vocalize anything coherent beyond the blond's name. With the ex-knight pounding into him, the sound of their joining coming from slapping bodies and the constant thumping of the mattress, the younger man was in mindless ecstasy. The feel of Seifer's cock thrusting in and out of him was maddening in the sheer pleasure it brought him.

 

Seifer's on edge predicament didn't matter, as Squall was coming seconds later, effectively sending him over the edge. As ribbons of sticky release splattered against the brunet's pale chest, he ejaculated his own seed inside of that tight hole, which was gripping him with each spasm of Squall's orgasm and drawing the very last spurt of cum out.

 

Both their bodies were tense. Squall arched back, waiting for his orgasm to end, not even registering that he'd climaxed without ever touching his penis. Seifer was buried deep within that consuming heat, also riding out his orgasm.

 

Panting and covered in a glistening sheen of sweat, the pair relaxed after their exertion of lustful sex. Seifer collapsed against the lithe form beneath him, releasing the brunet's legs to fall to the side. His mouth sought Squall's.

 

Though the frantic rush was over, their kiss was no less passionate. It was softer, less demanding, as they gently moved their lips together and tentatively slid their tongues against each other's.

 

Seifer lovingly ran his hands along the brunet's chest, moving them higher to let him prop his body up on his forearms while cupping Squall's delicate face. He didn't question what they did next, since Squall would follow his lead for the remainder of the day.

 

With every intention of taking a nap, Seifer drew away and pulled at the blanket and sheets. Neither of them spoke, simply moved about until they were beneath the covers. Blue eyes looked into green, but before the brunet could say anything, Seifer pressed his lips against Squall's forehead. The blond rest his head against the pillow before directing Squall's head against his chest. His arms were holding the brunet closely, guaranteeing that the Commander went nowhere.

 

The rest of the day would involve exactly what Seifer wanted. They'd stay in bed for most of the time, lazily entangled and making love until neither could be certain that the dark night was of the same day when they'd first started. And later, when they'd slept too much but still felt exhausted from their activities in between, they'd stay cooped up inside these walls that did not give them grief for their feelings toward one another. Seifer relished the idea of watching a movie with Squall curled against him on the couch.

 

 

TBC…