Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Defining Love ❯ Defining Love ( Chapter 31 )

Warning: Smut ahead, and there is no avoiding it since it's a longwinded bit that compromises most of this chapter ^_^ It's graphic and just the sort of perverted thing a yaoi fangirl writes, so no underage readers.

 

Defining Love

Chapter Thirty-One

 

Seifer laughed dryly as a heavy pellet of rain hit the windshield of his car. The single drop was followed by a staccato of others, heralding an expected downpour. Gloomy skies had been promising rain since before the sun had even risen, which he found amusingly ironic. The past three days had been nothing but sunshine and it seemed all too fitting that the weather should turn dreary on the very day Bernhein was to be buried.

 

His car was parked across the street from the cemetery where the funeral was taking place. He was one of many inline alongside the wide road. He had not joined in on the solemn procession of vehicles and he would not actually enter the cemetery to join gathered mourners. He had not been acquainted with the deceased beyond a passing introduction. His current agenda had nothing to do with paying respects, but recruiting Leonhart for an evening of serious fucking.

 

Checking his watch, Seifer determined that it was nearly two o'clock. He had been waiting for thirty minutes and was beginning to wonder if the geniuses behind planning the funeral had forgotten to dig the plot up prior to the depressing event. Deciding he could stand to wait another fifteen minutes, his fingers drummed a bored tune on the steering wheel. The rain began to fall more heavily, the visual outside his windshield becoming extremely blurred.

 

With high stonewalls bordering the cemetery, he couldn't see beyond the entrance and winding gravel path leading inward. He had not seen Leonhart enter hollowed grounds, but he knew the steely-eyed swordsman was near nonetheless. Waiting like a good little boy was a trying ordeal all on its own. His patience was soon rewarded when a figure with a black umbrella exited the graveyard through tall iron gates. Unable to see clearly through the rain, he started his car up and turned the wipers on. The figure was a woman he didn't recognize, but as more people followed he knew Leonhart would soon show up.

 

After a large group of young women in team jerseys flocked for cover from the rain, Seifer spotted his quarry. Proceeded by an older couple with hair so stark white that he knew they had to be relatives of Bernhein's, his attention was captured wholly by his rival. Dressed uniformly with every other man on sight, the ghostly pale brunet wore a black suit and solemn expression.

 

Seifer swallowed thickly, wishing he had a clearer visual. Ushered by Kinneas, he watched as the cowboy held an umbrella and kept an arm around his rival's shoulders. It was difficult to see any detail through the rain.

 

Reaching into his pocket, Seifer retrieved his cell phone. He watched Leonhart attentively as he called, not knowing with any certainty that the swordsman would have the phone turned on or even be carrying it on such a day. When the brunet stirred from the cowboy's hold, he grinned broadly while spying from across the street. He wasn't a voyeur by nature, but warmth gathered in his loins at the sight of Leonhart responding to his call.

 

Waiting in anticipation, Seifer continued to grin as the brunet stared down at the phone in hand. His name was no doubt on the caller ID. He wondered what thoughts were running through his rival's head. His timing was far too auspicious to be coincidence.

 

As if on cue, Seifer observed the intuitive fighter glancing around the surrounding area in the hopes of locating him. Steely blue eyes met his for an instant, but the cowboy interrupted and seemed to ask what Leonhart was looking for. Willing his rival to simply answer the phone, he was given his wish.

 

Breaking away from his consoling friend, Squall gestured a need for a moment alone. Once out of earshot he asked evenly, “What do you want?”

 

Seifer saw the brunet break away from Kinneas while holding a phone to his ear, seemingly ignorant of the rain. The effeminate man's dulcet voice seemed to travel straight to his groin, pulsing some faint pleasure through him with each syllable. “You'll catch a cold like that. Take Kinneas' umbrella,” he instructed.

 

“You're a real bastard to show up here,” Squall hissed, heated emotion lacing his words despite his best efforts to remain impassive.

 

“Do you think I stayed in my car because of the rain? I have some integrity, however infrequently I choose to act with it.” Shifting in his seat, Seifer sought a position that kept him from focusing on his semi hard penis. He concluded that Leonhart was a siren, which was perhaps part of why the man was so laconic.

 

“I can't talk now,” Squall excused.

 

“Then I'll make this quick,” Seifer interceded before the brunet hung up. He watched as Kinneas walked towards his rival. He knew Leonhart didn't want to be overheard. “Meet me tonight at my place after seven.”

 

Squall stayed on the line long enough to hear the ex-knight dictate instructions for a meeting place and relative time. Hanging up, he flipped his phone shut and pocketed the device before his actions became any more suspicious. Turning around, he almost ran into Irvine.

 

“Was that Seifer?” Irvine questioned as he stepped close and extended his umbrella out to shield the former commander.

 

Squall gave a faint nod in confirmation. Unable to meet the gunman's eyes, he started to step around the man. Pausing midway, he said in a quiet voice that barely carried above the sound of the rain, “I'm sorry to worry you.” Not knowing how else to express his feelings over distressing his best friend with his behavior, he left the matter alone and walked away towards the hastily departing crowd of Cale's family, friends, colleagues, and students.

 

While everyone rushed to find cover from the rain, Squall felt oddly soothed by it. Though it was warm, his body felt strangely chilled. He couldn't shake the numbness he had felt all day.

 

Squall stood on the sidewalk outside the cemetery. His son stood beside Irvine, both of them giving him space and not approaching. The concerned pair remained stationary; standing beneath their umbrellas while everyone else hurriedly vacated the depressing and sodden scene. He spotted Laguna ducking into an armored car, unable to delay the task of running the country. Looking across the street, he found jade-green eyes again. Staring for a long moment, he gave the faintest of nods, acquiescing without consciously considering what he was agreeing to.

 

In his car, Seifer smirked victoriously. With his mission accomplished, he pulled out and decided his next task was to plan for the evening ahead. There was no point in screwing his rival again if the man didn't beg him for more afterwards.

 

Sighing, Squall stared after the pursuing blond as the man drove off. Finally acknowledging what had transgressed, he shook his head in disapproval of his subconscious decision. Whether or not he actually showed up at the ex-knight's apartment was another matter altogether.

 

Lore stood beside his uncle, looking towards his father uncertainly. When his father started walking back through the cemetery gates, he rushed to follow. Between Cale's death and how it was affecting his father, he didn't know which was worse.

 

--

 

Squall lay awake in bed, surrounded by the absolute darkness of an unfamiliar room. The heavy silence was disturbed each time he shifted into a more comfortable position, the unworn material of the comforter and sheets sliding together loudly. He and Lore were still staying with Laguna and the dark room felt unfamiliar in a way that caused uneasiness.

 

Opening sleepless eyes, he glanced at the radio clock on the nightstand. It was after midnight. The numbers were strikingly bold in their soft red glow, piercing the shadows enough to illuminate a small portion of the nightstand. He felt as though he were being told that he shouldn't be there.

 

Groaning at his nebbish reluctance to make a steady decision not to go, he rolled over and snatched an unused pillow. Though he had not slipped away to meet the ex-knight, thoughts of doing so had plagued him since before seven o'clock had even come around. The entire day had crept along at a painstakingly slow pace and the minutes had turned into hours when he knew Seifer was waiting for him.

 

Biting his lip, Squall tightened his hold on the spare pillow and forced his body to forget the ex-knight's heated touch. He had spent the day in the presence of Cale's parents, who had come all the way from the Island Closest to Hell. Hearing countless stories of Cale's childhood and how much the professor talked about him only served to refresh each contrite feeling that twisted his stomach into knots.

 

Valiant in his effort to stubbornly toss and turn in bed with no escape from himself or the pending day of oppressive concern that lay ahead, Squall managed to stay in bed until two o'clock in the morning. Though his lip had taken the brunt of his efforts, his teeth having worried the soft flesh until it stung and tasted coppery with blood, he otherwise lacked any physical manifestations of his most recent dilemma. His battle was mental and in his state, his mind wasn't really up for the fight.

 

Casting aside the covers, he hastened to find some distraction before he wore down each of his excuses not to give the arrogant ex-knight a late night visit. Deciding to take a cold shower, which was his latest habit, he walked quietly to the bathroom.

 

--

 

Seifer awoke to the sound of someone knocking at his door. The telltale rhythm was both sharp and exceedingly polite for the amount of courtesy he deserved. Mind and body stirring from a deep sleep, he felt a strong reluctance to wake up. In response to his continued dazed slumber, or rather his failure to answer the door in a timely manner, another short succession of raps sounded, this time slightly more demanding and almost needy.

 

Not knowing the exact time, Seifer sat up and swung his legs over the edge of his bed. Hanging his head as he tempered his annoyance, he rubbed his eyes and tried to instill further wakefulness. The sordid affair between him and his rival was ridiculously high maintenance considering there were no strings attached.

 

Heaving a heavy sigh, he stood from his bed wearily. Wearing boxers and t-shirt, a faint chill overcame him from his air-conditioned apartment. Inhaling sharply, his body started to wake up. He navigated his way across the small studio room, avoiding unpacked boxes with the help of memory and dark shadows. He stifled a yawn as he unlocked his door.

 

As Seifer opened the door, he groused, “It's about fucking time you showed up.”

 

Standing in a dim hallway, Squall gazed up and met jade-green eyes steadily. He didn't speak. His invitation had no technical limit, even if three o'clock in the morning wasn't within the timeframe the ex-knight had in mind.

 

Blinking sleepily, Seifer reached out and fisted the collar of the brunet's sweatshirt. Yanking the man inside, he slammed his door shut and pinned his rival back against it with a thud. “`After seven' doesn't mean the next damn day,” he bit out in agitation.

 

“I hadn't planned on coming,” Squall informed. Knocking the ex-knight's hand away, he glared upwards in defiance.

 

Regarding the stubborn swordsman keenly, Seifer pointed out smarmily, “And yet you're here.” Up close, he observed dark circles beneath sleep deprived eyes and cheeks that seemed hollower than when he last faced the mourning fighter. Though concern flashed through him, he reminded himself that he was the last person who should care about the former commander.

 

“I'm tired,” Squall stated matter-of-factly. “If you want sex, that's fine. Just let me sleep here afterwards.” Whether he became ensconced with latent guilt didn't change his current need to find reprieve and a couple hours of sound sleep. He suspected having excruciating sex with Seifer would tip the precarious balance and send his body crashing to a point that overrode his mental inability to shut down. When the blond was through using him, he expected to slip into an unconscious oblivion and forget the recent turmoil in his life.

 

Seifer had been debating how to broach having sex with Leonhart. In his current state, he was still half asleep and could hardly hope to improve on his last performance. Hearing his rival's unenthused words roused his bruised ego and helped disperse any remaining vestiges of lethargy. A challenge had been issued, whether the unsuspecting brunet knew it or not.

 

Squall became aware of a change in the ex-knight's demeanor. A silent alarm rang in the back of his mind and heat replaced the cold chill left over from his shower. Seifer was gazing at him intensely, dilated green eyes pinning him in place and stripping him bare. It was as though a switch had been flipped. There was such conflict between them that he could scarcely keep track of it all.

 

“You can sleep when I'm finished with you,” Seifer said. His tone was deathly serious and he almost smirked at the uncertainty that suddenly filled shadowed grey-blue eyes.

 

Breath hitching, Squall shivered in anticipation. His body seemed to have forgotten the splitting pain of sex with the arrogant ex-knight. As the desire to be touched overcame him, he realized the number of instances the man had pleasured him trounced the single experience in the spare bedroom of his home. No matter how unwilling he might have been at times, it had almost always felt mind numbingly good.

 

Leaning in, Seifer bent down and whispered against his rival's ear, “Undress and get on the bed.” Resolving not to touch the lithe fighter, he pulled back and stepped away.

 

Squall stared at the ex-knight with a faint blush and obvious disappointment. He had been so certain the man would kiss him. He was embarrassed at the amount of disappointment he felt and the strong urge to pull the blond back down and take initiative. Unwilling to comply, he started to question his instructions, “Why-”

 

Seifer interjected before his unintentionally persuasive rival caused his resolve to shatter, “Because I don't want to fuck you without preparing you.” Reaching out, he nudged the epicene fighter's delicate chin higher. He let his thumb press against beckoning lips. “If I kiss you, I'll lose control.” The solution was simple enough if he remained focused and steadfast. Tasting his rival would shatter his willpower and cause him to act too selfish for anyone's pleasure but his own.

 

Liking the concept of a mindlessly lustful ex-knight, Squall's lips parted as he let out a silent gasp. He had come to the blond's apartment on the grounds of fulfilling their inane deal for sex and to hopefully fall asleep as soundly as he had in the man's arms before. The need to have Seifer touching him and kissing him undermined his belief that he wasn't looking forward to having sex, but the logic behind his feelings didn't keep him from wanting it any less.

 

“Don't,” Seifer muttered tersely as he broke away. He hated losing control. His rival sent his senses reeling with such distinct ease that it was shameful. The former commander simply needed to bat pretty grey-blue eyes and purse pout lips, rending him at the mercy of his body's carnal libido.

 

Swallowing thickly, Squall took a moment in deciding how to proceed. He had previously consented to sex with the general notion that it would be for Seifer's pleasure and his reluctant submission. Gathering his nerve to follow through and actually heed the blond's instructions, he began to undress. He slowly pulled his hoodie overhead and began removing each article of clothing until he stood completely bare. Hardly bashful, he walked upright to the bed. Meeting the edge with his knees, he hesitated.

 

Seifer forgot himself, his mind dazed from the tantalizing striptease he had been given. His eyes followed the lithe fighter's every movement. Though he could not understand how another man's body was so arousing and enticing, he could not tear his gaze away. Licking his lips, he observed every inch of smooth flesh from the nape of a slender neck, down a lithely muscled back, and finally to shapely buttocks. He would examine lower yet, but his eyes refused to leave Leonhart's ass.

 

Turning his head, Squall glanced over his shoulder. He felt a flush overcome his entire body. The ex-knight's gaze was beyond intense and he wasn't sure how much of it he could take. He wanted to protest the watching man's uncomfortably close observation of his exposed body. Heart beating faster, he suppressed his qualms and slowly knelt on the bed.

 

Forgetting how to breathe, Seifer watched as Leonhart moved with fluid and graceful motion. The mattress sunk silently and he was presented with a sight he didn't quite believe. His eyes saw the stubborn and defiant swordsman lying atop his bed, every inch of pale skin exposed to dim and cool shadows. His brain could not grasp the concept of an agreeable Leonhart willingly stripped and ready to accept his lustful intentions.

 

Squall let out a quiet sigh, his body responding to the continued gaze of jade-green eyes. His impatience was mounting and so was his arousal.

 

Led forward by his cock, Seifer took several steps closer to the bed. If he didn't act quickly, he would not keep enough wit about to prepare the fighter's unaccustomed body properly. With the sound of blood thumping in his head from a rapidly beating heart, he stalked away to retrieve a couple necessary items.

 

Shifting, Squall attempted to cover himself futilely. There was no point in hiding the fact that he was aroused, but a strange sense of modesty overcame him. Being naked in general wasn't embarrassing, but having a hard on in front of someone else was mildly unsettling.

 

Seifer returned, carrying a box of condoms and bottle of recently purchased lubricant. Managing not to trip while his eyes remained glued to the vision of Leonhart aroused and waiting, he dropped his equipment onto the mattress beside a pale and shapely leg. Feeling as though he should break the silence, he quickly vetoed the inclination, lest he say something unnecessary. Instead, he busied himself with removing his shirt and boxers.

 

Unable to remain in place, Squall shifted to sit upright. His eyes were glued to the ex-knight's muscular chest. The hollow and sinewy neckline, toned pectorals, and washboard abs stirred something far more warming than admiration inside him. A faint blush graced his cheeks when he brashly raked his eyes lower to Seifer's exposed manhood. Though a shy voice in the back of his mind told him to look away, the stiff organ stood proudly and demanded his attention. The mushroom head was an angry red, the shaft curving slightly and widening slightly at the base. He had not spent any time examining his rival's cock and was suddenly able to understand why it had hurt so much to have such a thick and long organ penetrating him.

 

“It's impolite to stare,” Seifer said huskily, purposefully stepping forward and keeping his erection in Leonhart's line of sight.

 

Feeling as though he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, it took Squall a moment to remember himself. “Just returning the favor,” he replied, finally managing to tear his gaze from the ex-knight's unsettlingly large manhood. He was suddenly filled with apprehension. Darting another glance southward, he then cast an uncertain gaze to the items the man had deposited near the edge of the mattress. Seifer was going to enter him again, which was obviously the means of sex between men but something he hadn't exactly dwelled on beyond knowing it had hurt the first time. He wished he hadn't seen the size of what was going to breach him.

 

Seifer did not miss his rival's uneasy expression. “There's no turning back,” he informed firmly, kneeling on the mattress and crowding the pale fighter. Hands braced on either side of slim hips, he leaned his face close to the retreating brunet until the man lay flat again. “I'll go slow, but I am going all the way.”

 

Eyes narrowing, Squall resented the unspoken implication that he was afraid.

 

Smirking roguishly, Seifer gazed deeply into defiant grey-blue orbs. Even naked on his bed, practically squirming beneath him, the stubborn brunet expressed an irritating level of indifference and composure. Backing away, he snatched the box of condoms. With steady hands and surprisingly nimble fingers, he procured a single condom and tore the square packet open.

 

Squall felt a slight lurch in his stomach. He was nervous. He would be a fool not to cringe from what followed, but he was too stubborn to express the enormity of his adverse apprehensions.

 

“Relax,” Seifer said, leaning closer to hover over his stiff partner. Inches separating their bodies, he fought the intense desire to lie down atop Leonhart and feel the man's warm flesh against his own. In a losing battle, he moved closer until he swore he could feel the heat coming from his rival.

 

Squall craned his head back slightly, his lips nearly brushing against the ex-knight's. His body was tense with a different sort of anticipation and he couldn't quite remember what he was anxious about. Doubts melting away, he forgot all the reasons why his being there was a bad idea and why he would feel guilty for it later.

 

“You're tempting me,” Seifer accused in a hissing whisper. Though he dipped to capture bowed lips, he reined himself in at the very last second and hovered a hair's breadth away.

 

Eyes closing, Squall replied, “Does it really matter at this point?” Lifting his head up from the pillow, his lips pressed against Seifer's. His coming there that night was just one more bad decision in a series of many.

 

Resolve cracking, Seifer's hands quickly found their place on his rival's body. One hand set gruffly on a curved hip, while the other cupped the side of an androgynously attractive face. Leaning over the welcoming fighter's reclined form, he roughly claimed soft lips.

 

Squall's arms wound around the ex-knight's neck, demanding that the man stay in place. Meeting an insistent tongue, he sighed contently. The feel of Seifer consuming him was strangely familiar. He lost count of the number of times they had kissed. If he were standing, his knees would have given out, his fatigued body holding no resistance to the effects of such powerful lust. A heady veil fell and he was swept along as the pompously arrogant swordsman who he reputedly detested plundered his mouth and wrought muffled simpers of pleasure from him.

 

Hanging on by a thread, Seifer broke away forcefully. Steeling his resolve, he didn't dare to look Leonhart in lust-dazed eyes. Lewd thoughts racing in his head, the hand that grabbed the forgotten condom was not quite as steady as when he had first opened the small packet. He stared intently at what he was doing, feigning concentration as he struggled to keep his desires in check.

 

Resisting the urge to tackle the blond to the bed, Squall watched as the man made preparations. His vague concept of what the condom and lubricant were for became clearer when the ex-knight slid the condom onto two fingers and reached for the lubricant.

 

Index and middle finger loosely encased in rubber, Seifer smeared on a liberal amount of lube in addition to the already slicked coating of the condom. “Turn over,” he directed, forcing calmness into his tone. He felt like pinning the brunet down and fucking the man senseless right then, but that would defeat the entire purpose of having sex a second time.

 

Squall waited until jade-green eyes finally looked at him to tacitly reaffirm the order. Holding the ex-knight's gaze for several moments, he eventually shifted onto his side and turned over. Lying prone, he hesitated before he took his actions a step further by raising himself onto his knees. Making certain his face was angled away, he wallowed in morbid embarrassment and berated his prude emotions. He wasn't a virgin. Sex was often awkward, the ends usually justifying the means, but he was prostrating himself before his rival as though he had no pride to speak of.

 

Cock twitching at the sight Leonhart presented, Seifer's expression darkened. “How daring,” he mocked with cruel intent, knowing very well the pale swordsman's cheeks were scarlet. “Have you assumed this position often?”

 

Going rigid, Squall felt a wave of shame wash over him. Was it really necessary for the ex-knight to debase him in such a situation? As if his exposed and vulnerable position weren't embarrassing enough. Unwilling to succumb to such mockery quietly, he glared icily over his shoulder despite his cheeks being red. “How would you have me?” he bit out testily.

 

Swallowing thickly, Seifer fought to restrain himself. The level of effect Leonhart had on him led him to believe the seemingly oblivious man was intentionally provoking him. The icy glare in steely eyes set his blood on fire and the demure expression of obvious embarrassment held such sheer cuteness that his urge to defile the innocent fighter was nonpareil. Unable to express how he would have his rival without a demonstration, he promptly pressed his fingers against the rosy anus exposed for his ministrations.

 

Jolting in surprise, Squall began to move away.

 

“Don't,” Seifer ordered sternly, his other hand grabbing the bottle of lube. “It won't hurt,” he said in assurance. He imagined Leonhart's body reacted instinctively, moving away to prevent any possible recurrences of their previous time together. His guilt over what he had done was nonexistent. Though remorse had a twenty-four hour time limit, he felt strangely compelled to assuage whatever doubts his rival was having.

 

Squall settled down, calming his racing heart and doubtful mind by grabbing the pillow and clutching it like some security blanket. He felt cold lubricant drizzled down the cleft of his buttocks. It was too foreign for his body to respond with acceptance. He forced himself to remain in place, bowing his head and biting his lip when he felt Seifer smear the lubricant messily over his entrance.

 

Dick throbbing, Seifer swallowed thickly and tried to sooth his raging libido with measured breaths. “Relax,” he said deeply, and then warning, “I'm putting my fingers in.” With his two fingers encased in the condom and slathered with clear lubricant, he gently nudged against Leonhart's puckered entrance. The rosy ring did not immediately give way and he was wary of how much force to use. Though he knew the closed hole had once expanded to fit the girth of his thick length, the blood involved had been a clear indication that the expansion had not been within normal limits.

 

“…” Biting his lip harshly, Squall resisted the urge to tear away. He wanted to tell the ex-knight to go slower, but the man was already doing going ridiculously slow for his sake. Having sex was much easier said than done.

 

Closing his eyes for a moment, Seifer debated how to proceed. He had a very general knowledge of what to do and he didn't know the exact amount of force necessary to insert his fingers or what toleration Leonhart's body had before actual pain registered. Glancing around, he glimpsed the doughty swordsman cringing in obvious anticipation of something unpleasant.

 

Shifting, Seifer assumed a more comfortable position and took his hand away from Leonhart's glistening entrance. Sitting with one leg bent and the other draped off the bed, he cleared his throat and informed, “I'll start with one finger.” He busied himself with slipping the condom far enough off to remove his index finger, unable to do so without coating both hands in slick lubricant. The greater excess of material left the condom sagging in a manner that reminded him to keep focused, lest he lose it inside his rival's clamping channel.

 

Voicing his concerns despite his aversion to appearing afraid, Squall sought confirmation. “You'll go slow?” he intoned quietly.

 

“That's what I said,” Seifer returned, as he set one hand on Leonhart's ass and warningly spread a shapely cheek. Swirling the tip of his middle finger around the puckered entrance, he again tried to nudge inside. It was easier with one finger, the tip of which slipped in with slick ease.

 

Tensing up, Squall tried to focus on something unrelated to the ex-knight's finger entering him.

 

“Relax,” Seifer groused in annoyance. “It'll hurt if you don't relax.”

 

Scowling, Squall muttered, “You try relaxing with someone's finger up your ass.”

 

“Trust me Leonhart, my finger isn't even close to being up your ass. At this rate, my balls are going to remain permanently blue, so concentrate on relaxing.”

 

Still scowling, Squall considered his predicament. The ex-knight had a point. Even if he didn't calm down, the man was going to enter him. Taking a deep breath, he focused his mind and soothed his concern with empty assurances that Seifer wouldn't hurt him like the last time. Exhaling, he hugged the pillow closer and settled against in such a way that his torso rested flush against the bed and his head was cradled comfortably.

 

Seifer stared at the back of the brunet's head, tangled locks of oak brown hair splayed against the same pillow he used each night. Eyes trailing along the man's posed body, he literally shivered with need. Licking his lips, he stated, “You're sexy like this.”

 

Eyes widening, Squall stared off to the side, his surprised expression not seen by the ex-knight. Although there was obviously a great deal of attraction between them, he had not expected to hear any words germane to it. He would just as soon expect to have sweet-nothings whispered in his ear.

 

Seifer's eyes continued to rove his rival's prostrated form. He nudged his finger deeper, managing to insert it up to his second knuckle before meeting firm resistance. Pulling his finger out, but slid it back in and began to mimic the thrusting of what would eventually be his throbbing cock.

 

Taking another deep breath and releasing it, Squall tried to stay as relaxed as he possibly could under the circumstances. The ex-knight's ministrations caused him acute discomfort, but it was essentially painless.

 

Fighting the urge to fist his arousal, Seifer kept both hands busy. Gripping a smooth cheek with his left hand, he spread the cleft of Leonhart's buttocks wider and used his thumb to gently spread the clamping entrance that he worked the finger of his right hand in and out of. Pushing his finger a bit deeper than his second knuckle, he was distracted by how hot it was inside his rival's body. His twitching cock was begging to be buried inside such warmth, demanding that he ram his length in deep and let sporadically clamping muscles jerk him off without any effort on his part.

 

A strangled sound of pleasure erupted from Squall's mouth before he even had time to register that something had felt extremely good. Hand shooting to cover his mouth, he stared with wide eyes and wondered if the ex-knight had heard.

 

“Did I hit it?” Seifer questioned with a grin, wriggling his finger around until he felt the swordsman shudder again.

 

As his hand slipped from his mouth, Squall gasped silently. He knew what the ex-knight was stimulating and he was not unaccustomed to how good it could feel, but when it concerned his desires and responses to his childhood rival, nothing could be gauged by previous experiences. The pangs of pleasure rang through him so clearly that he forgot himself.

 

Seifer continued to slide his single digit in and out of his rival's anus, raking against where he placed the man's prostate gland to be.

 

Squall was torn between quieting himself and letting the ex-knight know he wanted more. Unable to decide when his thoughts were scattered, the hand that wanted to clamp his mouth shut remained lax, his fingers trailing across his bottom lip. Eyes scrunching shut as he fought for clarity, he eventually reached a breaking point. Gasping, his hips involuntarily rocked back to impale himself onto the lording blond's finger.

 

Faltering in his actions, Seifer forgot his own name until his rival spoke it.

 

“Seifer,” Squall murmured, turning his head against the pillow. “I can take more,” he informed suggestively. He had been pleasured in such a way before and knew to a limited degree that he could handle a couple more fingers.

 

Prone to jealous thoughts when it concerned Leonhart with other men, Seifer was immediately suspicious. He didn't know if it was the brunet's words or bodily response. “Who else have you let fuck you?” he questioned demandingly.

 

Squall didn't hear the ex-knight's question. He only felt the man's finger toying mercilessly with the bundle of nerves inside him. Unraveling completely, he continued to rock back and urge the breaching finger deeper. He had no contending scruples with expressing physical pleasure, but he was too prideful to accept how easily Seifer could reduce him to a blithering fool with no thoughts beyond sexual desires.

 

Eyes narrowing, Seifer ceased his actions. As he adjusted the condom to again include his index finger, he asked again, “How many other men have you let fuck you? How loose would your ass be without potions?”

 

“You're an idiot,” Squall managed to say between panting breaths. His body quieted without the constant stimulation, but his stiff manhood sorely needed release.

 

“Answer the damn question,” Seifer bit out angrily. Temper igniting, he shoved his fingers inside his rival without warning.

 

Grunting a note of surprised discomfort, Squall scowled and used the last few moments of coherent thought to cast a slew of curses at the ex-knight in his mind.

 

Thrusting his fingers in and out of his rival's clamping entrance, Seifer prompted impatiently, “Well?” He became enraged and furious when he pictured Leonhart sleeping with Bernhein and an array of other undeserving pricks.

 

“S-stop,” Squall gasped out as the ex-knight's rough handling rushed him towards climax. “I'm going to… I'm coming… stop.”

 

Demeanor darkening, Seifer increased the pace of his preparing thrusts. He slipped the thumb of his free hand inside and spread the rosy ring wider. He hadn't even touched Leonhart's cock and the man claimed to be close to ejaculating.

 

Wedging his arm beneath his awkwardly posed body, Squall reached between his legs and grasped the ex-knight's hand in a futile attempt to stop the man from making him orgasm. He wanted the pleasure sorely, but wasn't willing to let it happen so quickly.

 

Surging forward, Seifer reached around and grabbed the brunet's interfering hand. Squeezing a bony wrist brutally tight, he pulled the man's arm away. Pressing against his rival's form, he plunged his fingers in deep with a lubricated squelch and twisted them against the sweet spot that caused an ecstatic moan to fill the dark apartment.

 

With the weight of the ex-knight atop him and no reprieve from relentless and tormenting pleasure, Squall cried out in protest and ecstasy. Shuddering violently while bucking against penetrating fingers, he came in blind abandon.

 

“That was quick,” Seifer hissed into the panting brunet's ear. “I bet you're used to getting screwed like a woman every night. Has this mourning period of yours left your body frustrated, or are you always this fast?”

 

Still experiencing consuming pleasure, Squall didn't process the ex-knight's words immediately. When his sated body calmed, he returned the antagonism. Bitter over what had just happened and the belligerent swordsman's insults, he muttered, “Who I sleep with has nothing to do with you.”

 

“Doesn't it?” Seifer responded heatedly. Releasing the resistant fighter's wrist, he broke away. Casting away the condom that hindered his dexterity, he retrieved another packet from the small box. Using his teeth to tear the packet open when his slippery fingers wouldn't allow a decent grip, he extracted the flimsy rubber protection.

 

Spine aching, Squall shifted onto his side and lay motionless. His eyes drifted shut and his body began to feel heavy. He knew it would only take a minute for him to fall asleep and he was tempted to do so.

 

“It's not over,” Seifer stated as he unrolled the condom down the shaft of his stiffly standing erection. It fit snuggly, the throbbing length engorged to a degree he rarely reached. His ego kept his actions in check. He would demonstrate greater control over his body than before, even if his dick remained in a perpetual state of arousal.

 

Squall stirred at the feel of calloused hands on his shoulders. Before he could protest, he was pulled flush against a muscular chest. A hand suddenly hooked behind his knee, pulling one of his legs to rest over the ex-knight's hip. He felt a hard rod press against his softened length and was distantly alarmed. Thinking the blond was about to enter him, he tensed instinctively.

 

With his rival so close, Seifer could not resist the urge to wrap his arms around the man and squeeze firmly, instilling a greater sense of how much smaller the contending fighter was. He set his back against the bed and pulled the smaller man atop him. With one arm keeping the stiff brunet in place, he let his other arm slip lower. His fingers slid against the cleft of Leonhart's tantalizing breech until he met the slightly stretched entrance.

 

Squall squirmed at the feel of the ex-knight's fingers entering him again. “What are you doing?” he questioned dubiously, trying to break away.

 

“Give me an answer. How many other men have you slept with?” Seifer reiterated the question that drove him mad with jealously. He could not let it go. He wanted to devise a hit list composed of all persons who had dared to touch his rival.

 

“Hyne,” Squall said, moaning when the blond again toyed with his prostate gland. It wasn't fair. His body was a slave to Seifer's touch and his mind wasn't far behind.

 

Patience lost, Seifer added four fingers prematurely and pushed deeply. “Answer me,” he ordered angrily.

 

Crying out it both pain and pleasure, Squall clutched the ex-knight for a purchasing hold. He huddled against a solid chest, his fingers digging into the man's ribs. “None,” he hissed unwittingly. “Cale did this-” Before he could finish, a spearing hand assaulted him. Going rigid, he sunk his nails into tanned skin.

 

“Does your son know you're a whore?” Seifer badgered, on the brink of pinning the brunet and fucking the man as punishment.

 

“Stop,” Squall hissed. He tried to push away but was in no position to defeat the broad framed fighter's crushing strength. Unable to break free of the contentious blond, he was left at the mercy of impaling fingers.

 

Keeping his hold tight, Seifer ignored the deceptively innocent man's protests.

 

“Please,” Squall remonstrated, nails clawing the ex-knight's skin as the man split him ruthlessly. “I never had sex with him!”

 

“Lying to me in your position isn't very smart,” Seifer chastised with an air of righteousness.

 

“You're the liar,” Squall accused, trying once more to break away. Forgetting that any jolting movements on his part would only cause more pain to himself, he thrashed until he felt the ex-knight's hold slip. Unprepared for the splitting pain reminiscent of the last time Seifer had manhandled him, he cried out and stilled his escaping efforts.

 

The sound of Leonhart's cry cut through Seifer's jealously vindictive thoughts like a gunblade slicing nonresistant air. Cursing his loss of control, he ceased his invasive assault and gently removed his fingers from within his rival. Winding his arms around the smaller man's lithe frame, he reaffirmed his tight hold and refused to let go. Why was it so difficult to keep control? He had never been prone to jealousy that bordered on madness. He had never felt such consuming lust that he hurt the object of his desires. His behavior was infuriating.

 

Pressed close as the ex-knight hugged him, Squall contended with the notion that the man was possibly sorry.

 

“I didn't mean to hurt you,” Seifer placated humbly, running the fingers of his relatively lubricant free left hand through the tangled locks of the former commander's hair.

 

Squall gave a subdued scoff. “I'm sure,” he said wryly. Trying to move away, he managed to at least close his legs. “Let go,” he demanded.

 

“No,” Seifer said in outright refusal. Still stroking soft hair, he admitted, “I'm a jealous man and lying about never having sex with Bernhein only makes it worse.”

 

“It's not a lie,” Squall mumbled, wishing it had been. Glancing ruefully at the ex-knight, he found disbelief in green eyes. “It's also not your business,” he added, his undertone laced with contempt. Holding the man's attention, he continued to stare at the blond's handsome face cast in shadow. “If this is how it is, stop using your hand and get it over with.”

 

Sighing, Seifer conceded to let the matter of Leonhart in bed with other men go. Holding the brunet's head in place, he kissed soft lips. As he worked on eliciting a response, he caressed a smooth back. He traced the hollow curve of the other's spine, until the trail ended and his fingertips brushed over the abused entrance.

 

Responding warmly to the calmed ex-knight's gentle touch, Squall kissed the man back. A small part of him knew it wasn't fair, but he honestly didn't care enough to recant his decision to follow it through to the end. He had expected pain and saw little sense in rejecting the man for being too rough.

 

Slipping three fingers inside his rival and scissoring the somewhat loosened ring of muscle, Seifer questioned, “How's this?”

 

“Fine,” Squall murmured against the short-tempered man's lips. Having known the bellicose blond for nearly all his life, he had seen a wide range of varying behavior from the egotistical and deceptively principled man. Over the past month, he had seen a startling new array of uncharacteristic actions. Previously, he had never seen Seifer's lustful and passionate side, nor had he ever glimpsed the extreme jealousy that was somehow spawned from the attraction between them. A gentle and concerned ex-knight was perhaps the most confounding to date, yet the man was kissing him softly while considerately preparing him with time consuming slowness.

 

“Only fine? That's disappointing,” Seifer said in a voice laden with need.

 

Leg moving of its own accord, Squall hooked his knee over the fondling ex-knight's finely cut hip. The persistent man was again toying with him in the most devilish of ways. “Again?” he questioned in a near gasp.

 

“How's this?” Seifer reiterated with a smirk of superiority.

 

Squall rocked back and forth, his hardening length having a firm body to rub against while fingers inserted from behind beckoned his hips to move in another direction. “I already…” he began, stopping short when he ceased to care anymore. He had already climaxed once while his aroused partner remained completely unsatisfied. There was a blatant disconnect between what should have been happening and what was actually happening, but his mind was blissfully unaware.

 

“You started out with such resignation,” Seifer commented. As his rival came undone in his arms, he realized the situation was far less amusing than he originally ordained it to be. Leonhart managed to rub against him just right, threatening to bring a premature end.

 

Oblivious to the fact that he was being made fun of, Squall frantically sought to be kissed. Managing to free on of his arms, bound as consequence of the teasing man's embracing hold, he reached up and grasped the back of the Seifer's neck. Pulling the roguishly handsome and cruelly influential swordsman's head closer, he met smirking lips greedily. Previously ambivalent to the act of kissing, often adverse to the pointless pecks given as a greeting or parting, he could not be sated when it concerned kissing his childhood rival.

 

Groaning, Seifer answered the brunet's fervor with a flood of his own pent up lust. Crushing inviting lips, his tongue danced almost violently with Leonhart's.

 

In Squall's mind and body, the numb chill that had rooted itself deep vanished without a trace. The ex-knight swallowed his muffled pants, a slick tongue roving his mouth and consuming every involuntary noise he made. The heat between their two bodies was intense, as friction and carnal lust sent temperatures to a dizzyingly high degree.

 

Distantly aware that his partner was distracted enough not to notice an additional finger, Seifer's mind wasn't collected enough to actually make a conscious judgment. Nonetheless, he slipped one last finger inside his rival, his large hand slowly pushing in to his palm.

 

Squall ended the wet exchange, a thin trail of saliva connecting their mouths briefly. Casting his head back, he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip in an attempt not to moan exultingly as he came for the second time that night. Successful in quieting his urge to cry out, he rocked hard against the rivaling swordsman's fingers. At the feel of teeth sinking into his collar, he climaxed blindly with his eyes scrunched shut and his fingers digging into the ex-knight's shoulder.

 

Tightening his hold, Seifer kept his rival pressed close. As though the experience were vicarious, he needed to feel every shudder that wracked the pale fighter's body. His lips trailed from the enticing curve of Leonhart's collar to a slender neck. The rapidly beating pulse was distinct against his lips, which left him with no option but to suck at that exact spot as though a vampire trying to feed on blood.

 

Squall arching back, his whole body taut as a finely strung wire. He convulsed in orgasmic abandon while his rival's firm hold kept him grounded in reality. When it was over, he lay limply in Seifer's arms, panting to catch his breath. With one leg cast over the man's hips, their bodies were practically entwined. He could still feel the man's salient erection pressed firmly against his abdomen.

 

Seifer studied his rival for several long minutes. When it seemed as though Leonhart had fallen asleep, he jostled the man until dilated grey-blue eyes peered wearily at him. “It's not over,” he informed huskily. Reminding the sated brunet of the exact circumstances, he wriggled his fingers until the forgetful creature jolted in surprise. Amused, he chuckled lightly.

 

Complacent in his tired and fulfilled state, Squall gave no protest when the ex-knight directed him back against the bed. On his back, he stared with mild interest as his unsatisfied partner prepared to enter him. Though he would have believed it impossible, when the man drizzled more clear lubricant out of the bottle and smeared it against his entrance, warmth gathered in his loins once again.

 

Cautious, though terribly impatient in his need, Seifer slipped his fingers past the rosy little hole he intended to insert his cock in. He waited long enough for Leonhart's softened length to spring to life. He smirked while pointing out, “Either you get hard at the drop of a hat or you've been seriously frustrated.”

 

Squall sent a withering glare, but he couldn't muster any resentment when he was too tired for it.

 

Seifer grasped the backs of his rival's knees, spreading lean legs wider. More than a little proud at his ability to control his rash desires, he basked in the precedent moment. Holding out had been no small feat and the pale figure lying before him was his prize. Without further ado, he hitched Leonhart's legs up.

 

Squall's breathing hitched. Remnants of fearful anticipation lingered in the back of his mind. As if to prove he wasn't afraid, he reached out and grasped the ex-knight's throbbing manhood. Glancing up into fiercely emblazoned green eyes, he waited until the man understood his intent.

 

Gulping, Seifer moved his hips closer. Leonhart's delicate hand guided his length, aiding as the tip of his weeping erection nudged inside the man. After pushing in with minor resistance, he waited. “Does it hurt?” he questioned tersely, fighting the urge to thrust deeper.

 

Shaking his head, Squall muttered, “Don't hold back.” He kept his hand gripping the base of the blond's erection. He could feel the man filling him and knew that was quite a bit left that would fill him to the brink. He felt dizzy from the heat. It was unbearably hot and his temperature kept rising.

 

Letting out a gruff sigh of satisfaction, Seifer pushed deeper. Leonhart's body was so hot, the gripping channel inviting him as though his cock belonged there. “Sweet Hyne,” he hissed, giving a tentative thrust and burying himself nearly to the hilt.

 

Squall arched back against the bed. How could it possibly feel so good? It was illogical. Every bit of pain he had felt the last time Seifer had entered him was paralleled at the opposite end of the spectrum. Pleasure coursed through his entire body and the ex-knight wasn't even moving.

 

“Leonhart?” Seifer called questioningly. He couldn't tell if the man was in pain or not. Regardless of how his tolerant partner faired, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out any longer.

 

Squall shook his head from side to side, his hair whipping the pillow softly. He gasped for air, fearing he might start hyperventilating if the ex-knight didn't do something. “Good,” he said, knowing distantly that he hadn't given the most comprehendible explanation. “So good,” he tried in elaboration, his speech limited when his mind couldn't form words.

 

Surging forward, Seifer cast Leonhart's legs over his shoulders and hovered above the man with his arms propped on either side of the panting beauty. Without any uncharacteristic scruples regarding mutual pleasure, he pulled out and thrust back in.

 

Attempting to hold back an embarrassing moan, Squall could not abstain from the involuntary reaction when the ex-knight slammed into him repeatedly. Thrashing beneath the man, his hands fisted the comforter beneath him. Each succinct thrust sent such pleasure and ecstasy through him that he became disoriented to his surroundings.

 

Sweat beading at his temple, Seifer speared his rival without restraint. His cock had never been so grateful, finally given exactly what it had been begging for. Despite his efforts in loosening Leonhart's virgin tight ass, the warmth he sank into gripped his throbbing length like a vice. Somehow, the experience was incomparable to the last time. There simply was no comparison. The willingness and pleasure written on Leonhart's face made the experience truly fulfilling. The vast difference seemed to mock how pathetic the pleasure from his practical rape had been.

 

Hands moving of their own accord, Squall released the blanket and sought to touch warm flesh. Gripping his weeping erection, he pleasured himself in rhythm with the ex-knight's unrelenting thrusts. His other hand trailed along a muscular chest, ghosting lower until he felt toned abs flexing repeatedly. Unexpectedly, he was abruptly pushed back into the mattress when Seifer thrust harder and faster. His hand shot to his mouth as he cried out from the sheer ecstasy such actions brought him.

 

In the dark apartment, the sound of panting breaths and the creaking bed were constant. Intermittent groans and pleasured cries sounded frequently, serving to drown out the steady rhythm of stressed bedsprings. From a distance, the shadowed figures of two bodies rocking together could not be distinguished as individuals. There was no separating one figure from the other, joined as they were and moving together with the same goal for base pleasure.

 

Seifer climaxed all too soon, his thick length jerking as he continued to thrust. Pleasure paramount, he didn't register that his rival had also come until the man's taut body started clamping tightly around his spurting organ. He had felt the same clamping reaction around his fingers and hadn't imagined how good it would feel around his sensitive cock. He groaned, giving a final few thrusts and finally finishing after burying himself as deeply as possible.

 

Catching his breath, Squall opened his eyes slowly at the feel of his rival pulling out. He was a mess. He had come three times, his own semen smeared across his stomach and the bedding beneath him. Seifer had cautiously used at least half the twelve-ounce bottle of lubricant, which left him covered with the stuff both inside and out.

 

Grinning foolishly, Seifer removed the used condom from his flaccid penis. He was sweaty and an overall mess after the somewhat chaotic events. His body was suddenly susceptible to the conditioned air of his apartment; the coolness drying his skin and lowering the temperature of heated muscles. Slipping from the bed, he gathered all condoms and the bottle of lube. Looking down at the brunet, he knew the man was in no state to take a shower. “I'll get a washcloth,” he muttered before stalking away.

 

Sighing heavily, Squall lay motionless on his back. Despite the unexpected pleasure of it all, he had at least foreseen how worn out his body would feel. He knew he would be able to sleep, so deeply that he wouldn't dream or stir at the sound of the bedcovers rubbing together.

 

Seifer hastily returned with an unconscious spring in his step. Hopelessly optimistic, he carried a moist washcloth in one hand and another condom in the other. In the two minutes he had been away, the notion of having more sex had settled firmly in his lust-crazed mind. He halted at the edge of the bed, sighing in disappointment at the sight of Leonhart sleeping.

 

Sensing the ex-knight's presence, Squall opened his eyes. Extending an arm up, he gestured for the washcloth.

 

Frowning, Seifer debated the evils of screwing his rival until the sleep deprived man passed out. Wanting more sex while the toe curling feeling was a fresh memory, he handed off the condom instead of the cloth. Kneeling on the mattress, he lorded over the dirtied fighter while staring ardently into stormy blue eyes.

 

Confused, Squall's brain managed to process the meaning behind receiving a condom. Before he could roll his eyes, feverous lips were on his own.

 

“Are you strong enough for more?” Seifer questioned huskily, choosing his words wisely.

 

Throwing a halfhearted glare, Squall muttered, “I have to leave by five.”

 

Brows knitting in confusion, Seifer pointed out, “That only gives us an hour.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Squall corrected, “That gives me an hour to sleep.”

 

“Come on Leonhart,” Seifer cajoled, leaning closer and trailing his lips over a pale neck. “Call home when we're finished, sleep here `til noon afterwards.”

 

Wincing in surprise as the ex-knight bit him at the juncture between neck and shoulder, Squall conceded, “Once more. If I fall asleep after, wake me up. I have to leave by five.”

 

Pulling back with a disapproving frown and narrowed eyes, Seifer questioned, “Didn't you come here to sleep?”

 

“Too late,” Squall supplied in short answer.

 

Shaking his head, Seifer muttered, “You snuck out to see me and now you want to sneak back in like this never happened.”

 

Saving the procrastinating blond the time and trouble, Squall tore open the condom packet. “The clock's ticking. When I leave here, I don't want to see you again.”

 

Taken aback, Seifer didn't quite understand why he felt hurt. From the very beginning, the arrangement had been for them to sleep together once more and then never bothered one another again. Why did he want so much more than the remaining hour?

 

Staring at the ex-knight, Squall waited for an answer. When the man snatched the condom from his hand and pulled the rubber out, he knew how the remainder of their time would go. If he could manage to drive home afterwards without falling asleep at the wheel, he'd crash in his own bed.

 

Struck by a brilliant idea, Seifer formulated an underhanded plan. Leonhart was in no shape for marathon sex, which left him in the perfect position to wear the man down until pretty grey-blue eyes couldn't stay open and he was left with a living bolster for as long as the swordsman's exhausted body necessitated sleep. Spirits lifting, he claimed soft lips while once again fondling the lithe body beneath him. It was going to be a very physically draining hour, even if an unsuspecting Leonhart didn't know it yet.

 

 

TBC…

 

 

Author's note: -_- the sex scene dragged on a lot. Whether or not it would have been better if it were shorter (or just less repetitive) is debatable. I definitely wanted it to be long since it was the first real time Seifer and Squall finally slept with each other, but it might have been overkill. Anyway, I hope it was still enjoyable. Fall semester started and I have enough English classes to keep me busy with a never-ending list of reading material. I will try to update sooner, but I can't make any promises. Thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter. ^_^