Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Liontaming ❯ Part 1 ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Liontaming - Part 1

by paxnirvana Rating: NC-17 Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII Characters: Irvine/Selphie/Squall Archive: Please ask me first.

Author's Note: Irvine and Selphie. They just fit. Now Squall, he's tougher. But I felt like the sullen bastard at least deserved a little TLC... 2/21/02

Disclaimer: Squaresoft owns; paxnirvana does not. Make a note of that.

Irvine lay in bed beside the woman he loved more than his own life, eyes closed in satiated bliss.

They'd made love again. Hot and wild, as always. He was tired, but not quite ready to fall asleep. She lay snuggled against his side, her slender body entwined with his, her hand tracing lazy, idle patterns through the dusting of red-brown hair on his chest. His own hand rested possessively on her hip, palm cupping bone, holding her easily against him.

"Irvine," she asked him, her voice soft, almost dreamy. "Have you ever been with a man?"

"Selphie!" he yelped, eyes flying open. Her head was pillowed on his chest so he couldn't see her eyes. He caught her chin, lifting her face so that he could see it. A small smile curved her lips, and her dark eyes gleamed, but she didn't look like she was teasing. It was a serious question then.

"What are you askin' 'bout this for, sunshine?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"You're so pretty... I just wondered if any guys had ever... propositioned you."

He felt his face go slack. She didn't realize the insult implied in her statement. Not really, he knew. It was just a point of curiosity to her. He swallowed hard. Suddenly nervous.

"Well..." he said, wondering how much of the truth he should give her. They'd never talked about their pasts - except for the time in the orphanage - before. Only the future. The little of it they could still see, what with that Ultimecia madwoman doing her best to ruin it for them all. But he wasn't going to let reality intrude in their bed. Not now.

"It's just that I..." she flushed then, closing her eyes and burrowing her face against his neck. Hiding from him. "It's just that I have this fantasy..."

"A fantasy?" he repeated hoarsely, blood beginning to throb faster in his veins.

"Yeah, about you... and another guy... and I'm watching you... kissing you... while he... oh..." she gasped and whimpered slightly, rubbing her hips against his thigh and pushing her fist against her mouth. He could feel the damp heat of her renewed arousal against his leg. "I'm sorry... that probably grosses you out. You don't think I'm sick for having that fantasy... do you?"

He was silent for a long moment. Breathless, actually.

"Who's the guy?" he finally managed in a strangled tone.

"What?"

"Who do you want to watch fuck me?"

She sucked in her breath on a sharp gasp, rising up off his chest to stare into his eyes, cheeks flaming. He smiled at her gently, trying to calm his own racing pulse. Stroked the tumbled hair tenderly away from her face. Her lips parted as she searched his gaze in wary astonishment.

"It's okay, sweetie," he said reassuringly. "I'm not grossed out. I'm just curious."

"Squall," she said quickly, almost blurting it out, wide-eyed, the name little more than a whisper.

"Never happen," he said, smiling at her sadly and shaking his head. "Squall's about as straight and narrow as they come and repressed as all hell. I don't think he even jerks off in the shower."

"Oh," she said, a wealth of disappointment in her tone. Then her head bobbed up and her mouth dropped open. "You're really not grossed out?" she asked, astonished. And she was so cute when she was shocked that he reached up and kissed her on the end of her pert little nose.

"Nope," he said, sliding one hand down her back and the other along her thigh. Loving the feel of her. She was so sleek, so strong, yet still so very feminine. And dang if she hadn't gotten him all riled up again. And he'd been feeling so nice and drowsy too... ah, well, sacrifices... he chuckled softly to himself.

"Why?"

"'Cause life's too short to run around worrying about every little thing," he said calmly and with a little shrug of his shoulders. "And I'm of the opinion that if it feels good and nobody gets hurt in the process, then why not do it?"

She blinked up at him in surprise for a moment. And he could almost see the wheels turning in her clever little head. Then she reared up, planted both hands on his chest and glared with mock menace into his eyes.

"Are you telling me you've already done something like that?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous. And he suddenly felt as if he were walking out on thin ice. Which, with Selphie, was normally a good thing, but this conversation had taken a turn for the odd.

"Now, Selphie..." he said soothingly. "We haven't exactly given each other a scorecard on past conquests now, have we?"

"Who was it? Anyone I know?" she demanded. He let out an exasperated sigh, blowing a puff of breath up toward his forehead. A loose fall of long hair flipped neatly up only to drop back and tickle his nose. Figured.

"No, ma'am, it wasn't."

"Darn. I have a good imagination," she said, settling back down against him with a little huffy bounce. "And if it was someone I knew, I thought maybe I could just imagine it..."

"Well, sunshine, the reality is quite a bit different from fantasy," he said softly, shaking his head ruefully. "Two guys get all sweaty and shove and grunt a lot. It's not pretty or romantic at all..."

She shuddered against him and gave a deep groan. The kind of groan she usually made when he was pushing into her for the first time. He blinked down at her in surprise. Her eyes were closed, her face flushed, her teeth clamped on her bottom lip; his little Selphie looked like she was in the throes of ecstasy.

"Oh, Irvine!" she said, eyelids fluttering as her eyes rolled back beneath them. "It sounds wonderful!"

"Damn," he said, watching her with rapidly growing desire of his own. "You aren't kidding about this are you?

"I'm not! I think it would be amazing..."

"Well... You aren't goin' to get jealous or funny on me, thinkin' I want some guy more than I want you now will you?" he asked, frowning seriously. His gaze locked with hers. She shook her head firmly.

"Oh no! I trust you implicitly."

Being essentially a realist, Irvine had his doubts about that, but he knew she meant what she said right now. And she was - hands down - the best thing that had ever happened to him. He could deny her very little that wasn't actually dangerous. And yet she still managed to find ways to get them both into dangerous trouble... regularly.

"It's Squall you want, hmm?"

"But I thought you said..."

"Yeah, but that boy needs to loosen up a little before he snaps. No harm in tryin', I suppose."

Selphie gave him a delighted grin, then snuggled up close to him, slipping her leg over his thighs and finding his hardness waiting for her. She gave a delighted little purr, rubbing herself sinuously against him.

"You are too, too good to me," she said softly, brushing her lips against his. His hands caught her hips, lifting her slightly, just enough so that he could slide easily through the plump, damp folds and deep inside her in one smooth stroke. She moaned like she had before, eyes closed, head tilted back.

Beautiful to watch. She felt beautiful too. Hot and tight and wet around him.

"Oh, I don't think so my sunshine, not at all..." he groaned. And then proceeded to be very, very good to her indeed.

It was harder to pin down Squall Leonhart than he'd first thought. But Irvine was patient. All snipers were. You waited for your shot, the clear line of sight, and when it finally came - you took it.

Bang.

Unfortunately he couldn't just shoot Squall dead and drag his body back to Selphie. That would have been easier. Much. But no, tracking down and isolating the field commander of Balamb SeeD was a far harder task.

But he was determined. What Selphie wanted, Irvine did everything in his power to provide. He'd talked Quistis into playing in that darn concert now hadn't he? And hadn't they all lived to regret it?

And it probably wouldn't hurt Squall to unwind a bit. Probably. Maybe if he took a moment to realize that there were people around him who cared for him more than he wanted to admit, his tasks would seem a little easier. Friends even if not necessarily lovers. But since Rinoa had fallen into her coma, Squall had become even more withdrawn, if that was possible.

It was starting to look like the taciturn Leonhart actually loved the brainless little twit. Or maybe he was just feeling responsible and guilty for letting her get into that state under his watch. Irvine was hoping for the latter, since Rinoa personally irritated the crap out of him, but if she was good for Squall then he'd just have to learn to tolerate her.

Maybe Selphie's little fantasy would help Squall sort out his head. Make him see the light, so to speak. Irvine didn't have any real hopes for that, but one never knew. He gave a snort of disgust from his position leaning against the wall in the corridor outside the Training Center, with black hat tilted back, arms folded over his chest, one booted foot braced against the wall.

His sexiest pose. Wasted. Since Selphie was asleep in his bed. Waiting. While here he was, fool for her that he was, lying in wait for a driven man with more testosterone than sense who was still working out at nearly two in the morning.

Someone had still been inside the Training Center blasting away at Grats a few minutes ago. And only Squall was in the habit of training alone this late at night. Every night. Irvine's head lifted sharply as he heard one of the gates open and then close again from inside the staging area indicating someone was coming out of the live part of the Training Center.

Idle musings forgotten, Irvine slipped into the men's locker behind him. After a quick check to make certain some trainee hadn't slipped in when he wasn't paying attention, he stripped with amazing speed, then dove into the communal shower. He turned the water on blazing hot at two taps for a few seconds to build up a little steam in the room, then shut one off and cooled the other one down to a tolerable level. He stepped under the water with a hiss. A little too warm. He adjusted it carefully, still listening for Squall's approach. Irvine turned under the water, letting it beat on his bent head and soak his long hair. He leaned his hands against the cool tile, bracing himself as his mind wandered.

Squall almost always used the communal bathrooms. He avoided his own quarters with an almost pathological single-mindedness lately, sleeping fully clothed on the couch outside Cid's old office more often than not. With a worried frown, Irvine wondered when Squall had last had any real rest.

Suddenly Selphie's little fantasy didn't seem like such a bad idea after all. Their commander needed to relax before he disintegrated - and took them all with him.

He heard a sound from the doorway and looked up, blinking water out of his eyes. A lean, dark-haired form had paused in the doorway. Squall. Damn. He hadn't been paying attention.

"Hey, Squall," he said, reaching casually for the soap in it's tray. He caught it between his hands and raised it to his chest, starting to lather himself up.

Squall shot him one of his slightly less annoyed glares and came into the shower area, moving for the shower head two away from Irvine's. He was covered in the sticky green-gray residue of Grat gastric juices - one of their far less pleasant attacks. It was a bitch to get out of hair. Another reason Irvine always wore his hat in battle. It kept most of that crap off his long hair - his one true vanity. Squall turned the water on hot and stuck his head under the spray, leaning his hands against the tile as Irvine had before, his shoulders slumping with obvious weariness.

Irvine slowed down his own washing as much as he dared, darting concerned looks at Squall from time to time. But the other man just leaned there, eyes closed, one leg cocked, hands flat on the wall, water beating on his head. He was spare and pale, his body whipcord tough and strong, like a greyhound's. Clean limbs, slender hips, lean shoulders and arms. Yet he wielded a heavy gunblade daily, so he was far stronger than he looked. Irvine was a man who prided himself on recognizing beauty. And Squall Leonhart was beautiful, despite the scar on his face.

It took him a moment, but he finally noticed that Squall had turned his head under the water and was watching him in return with a flat, measuring stare.

"What?"

And only Squall could make a simple interrogative sound like an order to confess your sins. it was a good thing he still had excellent control. No sense scarin' the boy with a raging hard-on. Even if he was starting to twitch a little in that area.

"Need help gettin' that shit out of your hair?" Irvine offered blandly.

Squall just raised a brow at him in simple disbelief.

"No, seriously. I've got some great shampoo here that gets everything out. Even Grat-crap."

"Whatever..." Squall closed his eyes and turned his head back under the full spray again. Looking like someone with all the burdens of the world on his shoulders and no one to share them with. Which he was. Shit. Guilt tinged with genuine concern stirred inside Irvine, pushing aside the burgeoning desire.

So Irvine chose to take Squall's habitual dismissive phrase as tacit permission. He snatched up the bottle from the rack in front of him and padded over to Squall's side, undetected under the sound of the showers. There he squeezed out a generous amount of the shampoo and began to rub it into Squall's hair.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Kinneas?" Squall asked sharply, glaring at him over his shoulder. Apparently too tired to do more than glare and snarl. Which was a good thing. Irvine flashed him a wicked grin.

"Washin' your hair, of course," he said, shrugging carelessly. He let the plastic bottle drop out of his hand and put both of them into Squall's hair, massaging his scalp thoroughly. Hell Fire and Thunder Storm, when was the last time this boy had washed all the gunk out of his hair? It felt like wire under his fingers.

Squall continued to give him the evil eye for a moment longer, then he groaned once and let his eyes close slowly. Obviously liking this more than he thought he should but too macho to admit it. He arched up subtly into Irvine's touch. Who took his time and let his fingers wander gradually beyond the confines of Squall's hair to his neck and shoulders. Rubbing the tense muscles there with deft skill until they eased and Squall sagged forward slightly.

"...the hell. That feels good..."

"You're a little tense, I guess," Irvine said quietly, not wanting to jar Squall out of this strangely receptive mood.

"Yeah," Squall said with a little snort. "You could say that."

Irvine continued his massage, stroking out along the lean back, growing braver as Squall stayed silent. The skin under his hands was smooth and fine-grained over the play of muscle. Like wet silk over steel. Even though he was four inches shorter, Irvine realized that Squall was probably stronger than he was. But then, the only thing Squall seemed to do lately was fight and train. Pushing himself relentlessly. And it was clear he was nearing some kind of limit. His body was tense, hard, knotted. Irvine frowned in concern as he worked at the tense body before him.

Squall braced himself better against the wall, but didn't move away. He tipped his head forward and let the water beat down on his head, slowly rinsing the shampoo away. Irvine reached carefully around him for the soap. Quickly lathering his hands and putting them back on Squall before he could think to protest at the familiarity.

"You're gonna break if you keep this up," Irvine couldn't resist saying even as he continued the massage. Kneeling to stroke down Squall's sides and hips. To his thighs. And there was still no protest. Only a low-level shudder that seemed to come from every muscle, everywhere. He wrapped his hands around Squall's calf and rubbed, working his way down to the foot. Which lifted easily into his hands. He massaged the bottom of Squall's foot gently.

"No I won't. I can't afford to," Squall replied, his words slurred, slow. Squall relaxing? He almost couldn't believe it.

"When did you last sleep a night through?"

"Doesn't matter."

"The hell it doesn't," Irvine said quietly, fighting down his outraged concern. He finished with Squall's other foot, then slowly stroked up his legs again to his back and shoulders. Ending by stepping close and pressing himself against Squall's back and wrapping his arms carefully around the other man's chest. Folding him protectively into his embrace. "You're comin' with me tonight."

Squall seemed to shake himself out of a kind of daze. He straightened up and his hands dropped over Irvine's arm across his chest, clenching there tightly.

"What, isn't Selphie enough for you anymore?" Squall said, bitter scorn snapping through his tone. He was tense again. All the good work he'd done with his massage gone in an instant. Irvine sighed.

"This isn't about her and me, this is about you, Squall. You gotta rest or you're gonna fly apart. And the only way you'll get any rest is if somebody watches over you."

Squall shuddered in his arms. "What's in it for you?'

"Cut the cynical shit, would you?" Irvine snapped, annoyed and offended despite himself, despite everything he knew about Squall. "It's a genuine offer from friends. Take it that way."

Squall shuddered once more. The silence dragged. Irvine almost held his breath, waiting. Then let it out on a soft sigh of relief when he heard the single word.

"Okay."

Irvine opened the door to his room slowly, hand still clamped firmly on Squall's shoulder. Not really trusting him to stay, he was still flabbergasted that he'd managed to get him this far. All the way through the empty halls he'd half expected Squall to turn tail and run. But he should have known better. Once Leonhart made up his mind, he stuck by his course. It was getting him to make up his mind sometimes that was the kicker.

It was dark inside the room, of course, but the blinds were open on the window. Letting in the light of the early moon. By the silvery glow he could see the slender shape curled up in the middle of the full sized bed he'd shoved into the tiny space. It filled the narrow room from wall to wall and he and Selphie had taken full advantage of the extra space on many an occasion. He was doubly glad for it now.

He paused a moment to smile tenderly at her sleeping form. She was on his side of the bed, of course, curled tightly around his pillow. She always did that when he wasn't there when she fell asleep. An adorable habit. He felt Squall move restlessly beside him and he realized he was still staring at Selphie like a love-struck fool. Which he was. But he had a mission right now that he needed to see through.

"This is a stupid idea, Kinneas."

"No it isn't - get in here." He yanked hard on Squall's arm, surprising him, and the Commander of Balamb SeeD almost stumbled into the room. Irvine closed the door behind him and locked it with smooth economy.

"We're going to wake her," Squall hissed quietly.

"Nope. She sleeps like a rock."

Squall was glaring at him from under his damp bangs, arms folded mutinously over his chest. He looked like a little kid sulking. Irvine just smiled blindingly at him and took off his hat and duster. Then he plopped down into the desk chair and quickly shucked his boots and then his chaps. Leaving him in his vest and jeans. Those went too. And since he rarely wore underwear, he was instantly naked. Squall just continued to glare at him.

"Strip, Leonhart. Before I do it for you."

"Right."

"C'mon Squall, you look like you're gonna fall flat on your face here..." Irvine said with quiet intensity. "Do you want to pass out in front of Xu and Quistis at your Strategy Meeting tomorrow?"

The glare sharpened for a long moment, but then he finally moved. The short coat went. Followed by the belts. Irvine moved out of the way, sitting on the bed to give him room. Squall sat on the chair he'd just vacated and tugged his own boots off. Then stood up, hands pausing at the snap of his leather pants. He met Irvine's watchful gaze for a moment, almost challengingly, then the pants went too.

He kicked them away, and straightened up, clad only in tank tee and briefs. And the look on his face said that was it. Irvine shook his head at him and tsked sadly. "We sleep in the buff here, Leonhart."

"I don't." And Squall almost looked uncomfortable. Shy, maybe?

"Whatever..." Irvine said with an amused snort. And he couldn't resist a small tease. "It isn't as if I haven't had my hands on most of that gorgeous body of yours already anyway..."

"I didn't think this was about sex, Kinneas," Squall said, stiffening slightly.

"It isn't... it isn't... " Irvine reassured with a too-casual wave of his hand. "But it's much better if you get the full experience of skin on skin."

Squall looked faintly uneasy now as he glanced at the girl curled in the bed beyond.

"She won't mind?"

"Hell no. She worries about you too, Squall." Then Irvine scooted back on the bed until he was half reclining next to Selphie. She turned toward him, obviously comfortable with him in the bed beside her, making soft little sounds of contentment as she burrowed closer.

Irvine watched Squall watch him as he bent over her and brushed a hand tenderly across her face before shaking her shoulder gently.

"Sunshine, we have company tonight," he said quietly as he kissed her forehead. "Say 'hi' to Squall."

"Hi..." came the obedient response. Her voice was soft and sleepy. Warm in a way that made Squall feel like an intruder. His hands clenched into fists. What the hell had he let Kinneas talk him into? Better question, why had he let him? He started to turn away, intending to gather up his clothes and leave, but froze instead, staring wide-eyed at the floor.

"...Squall," Selphie continued, still in that warm, breathy tone "Oh, Irvine, you brought Squall?" She didn't sound outraged at all. She even - dare he think it - sounded welcoming.

"Yep, but he's tired now sunshine." Squall's gaze rose almost against his will to rest on the bed again. Selphie was leaning into Irvine's arms and the Galbadian was bent over her, his face buried in her tousled hair. They were the very picture of loving tenderness. His heart began to pound painfully in his chest. "I think we all need to get some rest, okay?"

"Okay... can he sleep next to me?"

"Sure, sunshine," Irvine said, lifting his head to give Squall a level, challenging look. And Squall, trapped somehow by the ease of Selphie's acceptance and the taunting dare in Irvine's eyes, found himself crawling onto the bed. Letting Irvine guide him down between them.

He faced Selphie, looking somberly into her slowly blinking eyes. She smiled at him gently, then tugged his head down against her chest, under her chin, snuggling against him with easy familiarity. Not knowing what else to do, he put his free hand over her bare waist, pulling her closer. She was sleek and warm. Soft with sleep. He felt her reach across him to touch Irvine too, then Irvine's arms surrounded him and he felt the other man lie down and press his warmth and heat against his back. Like he'd done in the shower.

It felt good. They both felt good. The warm, somehow sleepy scent of Selphie surrounded him, tinged with the spicy strength of Irvine. Something cold inside him gave then. Broke free. It hurt like hell, but he was used to pain. Cradled between the two lovers, Squall closed his eyes and went to sleep.

To be continued...