Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Liontaming ❯ Part 13 ( Chapter 13 )

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

Liontaming - Part 13

by paxnirvana Rating: NC-17 Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII Characters: Irvine/Selphie/Squall, and ensemble cast Date Completed: 3/7/03 Archive: Please ask first.

Author's Note: If you've made it this far, you probably realize by now that this is an AU twist on game-time. Pretty freakin' AU by now too, since it's an ongoing three-way with the characters named above. Game-time is gonna pick up and they won't get much time 'alone' after this... so... here we go! *grins*

Many thanks to all the patient readers who waited six whole months for me to get off my ass and continue this one - enjoy!

Disclaimer: Squaresoft owns; paxnirvana does not. *sigh* Still.

His room was empty. The big bed mocked him with it's emptiness, jumbled sheets and scattered pillows a forlorn reminder of what had started there less than a week ago. Heaving a sigh of mingled disappointment and weary dismay, Irvine tossed his hat onto his desk.

He had honestly expected Selphie to be here. She was probably still off doing whatever it was that women did with underwear that seemed to take so much longer than simply snagging a new pair out of a drawer and putting them on, like guys did. Staring at himself in the narrow mirror beside the door that led to the tiny attached bathroom, Irvine sighed wearily again and stripped off first his gloves and then his coat. He hung his duster in the small closet then sat himself on the edge of the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees as he stared blankly at the floor between his boots.

The confrontation with Rinoa had taken more out of him than he'd expected. It was so hard to hate the foolish girl. Not that he was comfortable hating anyone; he preferred to ignore those he didn't get along with. Rinoa was just emotionally immature, as her spiteful attack on Selphie had shown. Which wasn't really a crime but made her damned unpleasant to deal with. A spoiled princess who'd had things go her way for so long that a wrench in the works left her floundering and sour. And afraid. But she'd seemed to understand, finally, that her days of being the damsel in distress had to end. No one could undo for her the rash choice that had made her a sorceress. She had to find her own way to deal with the burdens and responsibilities such power entailed.

He admitted to himself with a short sigh that he only really cared about her well-being because of her link with Squall. And because some day, if she didn't come to terms with her powers, it might be necessary for SeeD to hunt her down and... kill her.

His door slid open with a soft hiss. Irvine looked up into hooded gray eyes and his heart jumped in his chest. Squall stepped inside the room, letting the door slide silently closed behind him. The dark haired man eyed him for a moment, scarred face impassive.

"That's my job," the other man finally said, tone dry.

"What is?" Irvine asked, raising a brow in puzzled inquiry.

"Brooding."

Irvine gave a short bark of laughter, his spirits lifting as it finally struck him that Squall had come to him on his own. Without coaxing or prompting he was just here.

Pulse racing, Irvine straightened up and reached for the tie on his hair, pulling it loose and letting the long strands fall around his face as he watched the other man from the corner of his eyes. Hiding a pleased grin for a moment behind his swaying hair, for fear of setting the other man off. But when he looked, Squall was simply standing where he had stopped, two long paces away and just out of range of the door's sensor. His hands hung loose at his sides, yet he still managed to look tense. Uncertain or upset?

"Something important happen?" Irvine frowned as he shook his hair back.

"We're going back to Esthar tomorrow."

Which might explain some of the other man's tension, but not all. They couldn't exactly expect the warmest of receptions from the Esthar after their raid on the Sorceress Memorial to free Rinoa. But then, they were mercenaries after all... it was part of the job to face one-time-enemies as employers later. Irvine met Squall's steady gaze. But this was more than just job-stress. There was a definite sharp edge to him, a sense of contained energy. And he was having a hard time figuring it out for once. He blamed his own weariness and lingering frustration. They'd been on the move ever since the night in Esthar, and hadn't had much rest then either. Which hadn't been bad at the time, oh no, but now......

"I don't wanna talk about work right now," Irvine said, remembering the passenger cabin of the Ragnarok - and the cargo hold - and Selphie on the docks. He'd denied himself three times recently, and now here Squall was. He rose slowly to his feet, vividly aware of the blood that had already rushed to his groin. He was hard and aching and he wanted release. And he wanted Squall to give it to him.

The gray gaze flickered over him before coming back to meet his eyes. Squall lifted his chin, the move somehow vulnerable as well as defiant. And so unconsciously sexy...

"You know, I've been playin' awful nice with you so far, Leonhart," Irvine said, lowering his voice deliberately. He dropped his hands to his own belt, letting his fingers stroke the worn leather above the visible bulge in his pants. Squall's gaze followed the motion, lingered for a heated moment before darting aside. "But there's something I need right now." Squall licked his lips and Irvine had to fight to keep from slamming the boy up against the wall right that second and taking that mouth with his own. "Can you figure what that is?"

"You need to get off," Squall answered with little coaxing, his voice husky, his faintly guilty gaze moving slowly back up to meet Irvine's. Who hissed in a breath at the heat he saw there.

"Come here," he forced himself to say instead of reaching out and simply grabbing the other man. Squall blinked once and swayed slightly on his feet but didn't move. Irvine raised a hand and crooked a finger at him impatiently. Squall's eyes narrowed slightly in a familiar defiant glare, but finally he obeyed, taking a few slow steps forward and putting himself into arm's reach. This close, Irvine could clearly see the faint flush high on Squall's cheekbones, the distinct widening of his pupils, the tongue pressing restlessly against the inside of his upper lip.

Squall wanted him. Wanted this.

And so did Irvine.

He reached out slowly and put his hands on Squall's leather-and-fur-covered shoulders, pressing firmly down. Startled, Squall half-swayed toward him, apparently expecting to be pulled into his arms and kissed, so he resisted the pressure at first. The boy could have had his kiss if he'd just completed the move and taken it, but Squall was clearly still uncertain enough about the situation not to try and Irvine was feeling contrary enough not to give it to him. He raised a brow and cocked his head slightly, gaze locked significantly with Squall's. Looked into darkened gray eyes where desire flared and struggled for dominance against masculine pride. That was something he'd have to work on teaching Squall. There was no real pride lost in the pursuit of pleasure. But, oh, the teaching could be so much fun...

"On your knees," he ordered softly, aware of his own throbbing pulse as well as the quickening of Squall's. He could see it in that pale throat, pounding beneath the skin. After another moment of almost breathless tension and narrowed, searching looks, Squall obeyed. But he kept his gaze locked with Irvine's, defiance and arrogance bright. It's just for now, that look said. I choose this. He seemed completely unaware that this was exactly what Irvine sought. Willing surrender.

With Squall kneeling before him, Irvine returned his hands to his belt. He unfastened it slowly, aware of Squall's gaze flickering to the motion almost involuntarily, then away. So controlled, so wary. The boy just wasn't going to admit that he wanted to look. Irvine smiled down at him knowingly, tenderly despite the fact that his blood was hot with pent-up desire. He wasn't shaking with it - yet. But soon... He slipped the buttons of his jeans free with a brisk yank before reaching into the opened fly and drawing out his aching erection. Squall flinched back as the length of it bobbed near his face, but he held his position, gaze hooded now, cheeks flushing darker.

Some embarrassment and discomfort there, Irvine could see, but not enough to overcome the lion's pride. Squall had willingly tasted Irvine's come before, but had made no move to touch Irvine's cock. It could have been simple uncertainty - he wasn't sure how to proceed and so in typical Squall fashion had chosen to ignore it - or it might be discomfort with the whole idea. Although, glancing at the bulge straining the front of Squall's leather pants, he didn't quite believe that one... Either way, Irvine planned to find out here and now just how far Squall was willing to go without Selphie's participation.

He held his own cock by the root, aware of the smear of pre-come glistening on the end. Squall's eyes were so hooded he wasn't certain they weren't closed.

"Put your hands on my hips," Irvine instructed quietly. Squall's eyes flew wide for a moment and his head tilted back in surprise. That clearly hadn't been what he'd expected to hear. Irvine grinned tightly and nodded encouragingly, his loosened hair falling around his face again, the red-brown length of it dangling near Squall's head.

Black-gloved hands rose after a moment and gripped his sides, strong fingers digging into the slackened belt and the loops of the chaps over his jeans. The motion made Squall face Irvine directly, but he kept his head tilted back and his eyes were shuttered again. Irvine shifted his grip on his own erection, pressing it down until the damp tip hovered near Squall's faintly parted lips. He could feel the warm puffs of Squall's breath against it, fast and ragged. He bit back a groan as he stared down at the silent man kneeling before him.

Squall Leonhart. Commander of Balamb SeeD. His lover - one of his lovers. The precious, skittish, uncertain one... but he was also a man, and men were direct.

"Lick it," he ordered. A shudder wracked Squall's frame, making the glossy brown hair glimmer in the harsh overhead light. The command hung in the air between them. Tension spiraled, until Irvine was nearly ready to press forward against those thin lips and force him to comply. But he controlled himself grimly. This was another kind of line to cross in their relationship - the choice had to be Squall's. Finally, strong hands tightened and shifted on his hips. He felt a tug forward even as those pale lips parted and Squall leaned toward him. Irvine almost held his breath in anticipation of the first touch of Squall's tongue; pulse racing, breath catching in his throat.

But Squall did more than lick him. To Irvine's delighted shock, he opened his mouth and took him straight in.

A brush of teeth. A hesitant tongue sliding along the bottom. Lips that closed cautiously around his length. Wet heat engulfing him. The sensations made him gasp. Irvine dropped his free hand onto Squall's shoulder, fisted it tightly in the fur collar of his jacket as his spine curved forward in instinctive reaction.

"Gods! Squall!" he groaned, eyes closing, his hand clutching the base of his cock tightly trying to keep from coming in one embarrassingly fast surge in Squall's mouth. Oh no, if Squall was going to dive right in like this, then he was damn well going to take the time to enjoy it. No matter how badly he wanted to shove forward and just let go in the boy's hot mouth right then. His blood was throbbing wildly now in his ears, in his groin. Breath whistling through clenched teeth, Irvine fought grimly for control.

Squall had held still for a long moment too, breathing hard through his nose. Either adjusting to the alienness of having Irvine's length in his mouth or understanding his struggle. Whatever the reason, Irvine was grateful for the delay as it allowed him to wrestle his raging need under a semblance of control. But it all nearly shattered again as Squall slowly pressed forward until his nose brushed against Irvine's fingers, his mouth hot and wet and tight, taking most of him down.

"Shit!" Irvine hissed, the hand in Squall's collar trying to hold him back. "Easy!" He looked down then, caught sight of Squall watching him from the corner of his eye. His cock surged in the boy's mouth in reaction, making Squall choke slightly but he recovered quickly, tongue rounding under the hard length; relaxing and taking control again, even sucking tentatively. Irvine released himself then, both hands moving to thread into Squall's hair, holding his head in place. Startled eyes flashed up toward him, clear gray flaring silver in the light. And as badly as he wanted Squall to do this for him, he knew he was too close to the edge for that right now.

"Relax. Hold still," Irvine muttered, holding on to the last vestiges of his self-control grimly. He wanted to just let go - take over and fuck that exquisite mouth hard and fast. But he couldn't do that. Not yet, and probably not ever again if he freaked Squall out here. So he just pushed a little further into that warm mouth before pulling out slightly. Warning him with that motion of what he intended. Squall's hands dug tightly into his waist in response, his grip almost punishing. Irvine waited, teeth gritted, until the death grip relaxed slightly and he caught a flutter of lids in understanding, only then did he give in to the raw urge to move.

Starting out gentle and torturously slow, he pumped carefully into Squall's mouth. Watching for signs of panic, of distress. There were none. Squall's eyes were closed, his face flushed, his lips sealed tightly around Irvine's cock and swiftly reddening with the friction. Shockingly carnal, the sight of his Commander kneeling before him. Of his own hard length disappearing into that mouth, into wet heat. Taking him in. Irvine groaned deeply, shuddering with each slow thrust. This was nearly heaven and he wanted it to last forever.

Despite his best intentions, it didn't take even close to that long. He'd been too long denied, wanted too badly. And then the very idea of it being Squall's mouth around him, willingly returning the pleasure he'd already given to him... Irvine felt the surge begin far too soon; dimly aware of Squall's startled pull back as his cock swelled. He let him go, releasing the sleek hair in order to grab his cock around the base again in a futile effort to slow the surge even as he yanked out of Squall's mouth. His other hand cupped the end as he squirted into his own palm with a groaning cry, mind blanking with the force of his release. Lightning and fire. A transient glory that consumed him like a shooting star was consumed as it fell through the sky... but hot and beautiful while it lasted.

Irvine stumbled back against the bed even as Squall fell over on his butt in a jingle of belts, the back of a gloved hand rising to his mouth as he coughed instinctively, his hooded gray gaze still fixed on Irvine. The mattress hit the back of Irvine's knees and he collapsed gratefully down on it, flat, eyes slamming shut as he let himself be absorbed in the stunning, hazy aftermath of a long-delayed orgasm.

Damn, but it had felt good to finally come, even if he'd shown mercy on Squall by not coming in his mouth first time out. He was dimly aware of Squall climbing up on the bed beside him. Irvine pried his eyes briefly open to look into the silvered gray ones that were watching him warily. He smiled up at Squall, almost groggy in his relief. The fact that Squall had been so eager to accept him in his mouth in the first place had been unexpected. Encouraging. Amazingly erotic. Gods, how had they lived so long without Squall in their bed anyway? Selphie was going to be annoyed that she'd missed this. Heh. That would teach the girl to mess around so long with trivial details like fresh underwear when she could have been here instead. His smile broadened at the thought and he let his eyes fall shut again, savoring the afterglow and the gradual easing of his racing pulse.

The bed bounced slightly beneath him to some movement of Squall's and he could hear the prolonged rustle of leather, but he was too relaxed to open his eyes again and look to see exactly what Squall was doing. He'd damn well earned this moment, Irvine thought smugly, he was going to savor it.

After a short while, Squall leaned close to him. He could feel the heat of his body, near but not quite touching. He must have taken his coat off.

"Better?" Squall asked him, his tone gruff.

Irvine smirked. "I surely am, sir - for now."

"Where's Selphie?"

Irvine outright snickered, letting a smile curve his lips. "Doing laundry."

"Hm. Thought she might be."

"Really?"

"She was complaining about it in the Presidential Palace."

"Then she should have done somethin' about it then, silly sunshine, rather than waste good foolin' around time now..."

Irvine realized with a start that that was the most ordinary conversation he'd ever had with Squall Leonhart. And here he was, lying almost fully dressed across the end of his own bed holding onto his softening cock with a handful of his own come rapidly cooling on his fingers. He laughed for a moment, obscurely delighted by the sheer twisted absurdity of the whole thing.

He felt Squall move sharply beside him. A bare hand caught his chin, turned his head to let hard lips close over his laughing mouth. Irvine jerked slightly in surprise before elated satisfaction raced through him. Squall was taking the initiative at last. Then the feel of Squall's mouth moving over his - fast, hot, and greedy - wiped all other thought away.

Squall's tongue brushed tentatively into his mouth, stroking the inside of his lower lip before gaining confidence and sweeping all the way inside. Filling him. Warming him. The kiss went long and Irvine let the other man control it completely, not even caring when teeth clicked together from Squall's unskilled urgency.

Finally pulling back and panting heavily against his cheek as they both caught their breath, Squall shifted again, rising up and bracing his hand on the far side of Irvine, leaning over him. Irvine opened heavy eyes to find Squall staring down at him in silence. Gray eyes gleamed in the shadows of dark hair, the scar invisible amid the strands. He'd taken off his shirt as well as his jacket; the sliver necklace and charm dangled loosely between them, an accent to smooth skin

"What do you want, Squall?" Irvine finally asked, his voice husky.

Silence grew, living and tense. Straining at nerves and needs.

"I want..." Squall finally began in a low voice, only to have his words cut off sharply by the opening of the door.

"Ooh! Look!" Selphie gasped brightly. "Pretty boys on the bed!"

To Irvine's pleased surprise amid the dismay, Squall hovered over him for an instant longer, his gray eyes flaring with a kind of needy entreaty. Then the intent gaze flicked back into shadow as he moved away, already turning to face Selphie.

Irvine rolled his eyes up in annoyed yet amused chagrin for Selphie's poor timing. So close... the boy had been so close to admitting something... was she taking bad timing lessons from Zell? Well, he'd just have to taunt her with it later, he resolved with a mental sigh as he looked over toward the door.

Selphie stood at the end of the bed, eyeing them both askance around the stack of various clothing-type stuffs piled in her arms. The door had already slid shut behind her and he spotted the red glow of the lock in place at last with distinct satisfaction. There would be no more interruptions. Barring Nida on the PA, of course... "There you two go again - not waiting for me," she said with mock severity.

"I was dyin', sunshine. Squall took pity on me." Irvine smirked at her. She threw one of the towels she held at his head. He reached out and caught it automatically.

"Clean yourself up, you big silly," she grinned. He grinned back and proceeded to do just that. Squall sat silently beside him on the bed, his narrow, hot gaze fixed on Selphie now. She walked to the desk and dumped her burden on it - thankfully just missing crushing his hat, Irvine noted with an instinctive wince. She turned back to face them and immediately whipped open the zipper on her jumpsuit with a flourish. Under it she was wearing nothing. At all. The minx. He groaned. And she'd been walking the halls of Balamb that way...

She giggled at what must have been equally stunned expressions on both his and Squall's faces as she shook the jumpsuit straps off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Then she kicked her boots off before lifting each leg to the side in turn to eagerly tug off her socks. Demonstrating her considerable flexibility. Naked, she gave a half-bounce that made her pert little breasts bounce delightfully before she clasped her hands in front of her chest, peering expectantly between the two of them, eyes bright.

"Okay, who do I get first?"

Irvine took a moment to make sure he was still breathing, while beside him Squall gave a low sound that might have been a groan. Tossing the now sticky towel on the floor, Irvine lunged off the bed toward the smirking girl with a growl. Selphie gave a pleased squeal and half-heartedly tried to dodge his advance but there really wasn't any space to maneuver in the room. Which was a shame because a naked, running Selphie was a fine thing. Of course, a naked, squirming Selphie in his arms was mighty fine too. He laughed in triumph as he wrapped an arm around her waist, sweeping her up into his hold before kissing her breathless. Then he spun back around and deposited her into a startled Squall's arms. The man was quick; he caught her close, holding her securely in his arms.

"Here, you fuck her, Leonhart. I wanna suck her toes while you do it." And he would too. It was her most ticklish spot. Fair repayment for bad timing.

"Ir-r-vi-ne!" Selphie gasped, half-laughing, half-glaring.

"I can do that," Squall said calmly, gray eyes flaring. Selphie blinked up at Squall in mild shock, her mouth opening on another gasp. Then Squall bent down and kissed her. Amused, Irvine watched with slowly rising brows as the kiss went on... and on... and on. Selphie's hands worked their way into Squall's hair as she arched up toward him, making little soft sounds of pleasure deep in her throat. Squall slid a hand down to her breast and plucked at the nipple, making her quiver in desire. Irvine swallowed hard, feeling his own erection return in a rush at the sight of Squall's hand cupping Selphie's breast with easy confidence, the thumb soothing the hardened flesh of the nipple he'd just teased erect with gentle sweeps.

Okay, Squall was getting over his hesitation and shyness faster and faster all the time, Irvine conceded wryly. Maybe he wouldn't have to use the toe-sucking torture on Selphie after all.

And at the very idea of an uninhibited Squall Leonhart on their bed and in their arms, Irvine had to fight to steady his hands as he finished stripping away chaps and pants and boots before rejoining both his lovers on the bed.

She was warm and sleek under him. Living fire that drove out duty and obligation and even thought for a brief while. With his mouth fused to hers Squall felt his mind blank, losing himself willingly in the taste and scent of Selphie, the final ties of responsibility falling away, and yet even her fire wasn't quite able to erase the recent memory of the feel of Irvine's cock hard in his mouth. Pushing in. Filling him. Surprising himself with the sense of intense satisfaction he'd had in making the other man come, in making him moan and cry out with pleasure. Surprising himself even more with the honest excitement he'd felt at kneeling before the other man, a bare cock presented to him, the expectation clear...

He groaned deep in his throat, hand sliding up Selphie's ribs to cup her breast, not quite ready to face all the implications of that self-discovery. He rolled the hard tip of her nipple between his fingers and she twisted gloriously beneath him. Sweet heat and soft woman. This excited him too. And he wondered, briefly, just what that made him - and if he should even care. Her hands wound deep in his hair, her bare thighs closed tightly around his leather clad ones until the ankles crossed behind them as she pressed up against him with an answering mewl of need.

Releasing her breast to brace himself on the bed, he reached down urgently with the other hand to tug open his leather pants. Panting. Wanting. More than ready. Hard cock freed, he shifted his hips against hers impatiently once, twice, before finding the welcoming moistness, the soft flesh that parted before his thrust, and he pushed inside her in a single stroke.

She gasped, arching up and twisting her face away to cry out, high and loud; her eyes closed, face flushed. Urgent hands dropped out of his hair to dig blunt fingernails into his shoulders. He was equally lost in the sleek heat of her, the slick hold. He dropped his forehead onto her neck, feeling the rasp of her breathing in her arched throat, the frantic racing of her pulse. So much abandon. So much desire. She would burn him to ashes and he would be happy to be so burned, he knew, if only he could feel this glory, this sense of belonging forever.

He flexed his hips, pressing as deep inside of her as he could. Felt her shudder and clench down on him, wonderfully tight. Felt the thighs wrapped hard around his hips relax a fraction, allowing him to slip unbelievably deeper, until he felt as if he might disappear inside her, like a junction, and the idea wasn't abhorrent at all... not with Selphie and her bright, honest desire...

Then hard hands caught at his hips and he felt the brushing of long hair against his lower back. Selphie's legs loosened and fell away from their clamping hold around him, her knees rising to cradle his waist instead. He shifted inside her in response; drawing out, intending to slide back in and begin the thrusts that would send them both to ecstasy, only to have the motion abruptly halted by the hands on his hips. He was pushed back, deep, deeper, then held there until Selphie cried out, arching and writhing beneath him in frustration.

"Move... oh, let him move... please," she moaned, her hands clawing at his shoulders, her head thrashing on the bed. He heard a throaty chuckle behind him, filled with wicked promise.

"Not yet," Irvine breathed, his voice husky and low. "These pants gotta go..."

"Yes... yes..." Selphie agreed, her hips pushing up under his eagerly, her hands flattening on his back and encouraging him down until he lay sprawled on her chest while Irvine's warm hands tugged at his loosened pants, drawing them down over his hips. He held himself off her on his elbows, his forehead braced against hers, letting them guide him again. Letting Irvine strip him. Getting the things over his thighs, off his knees, was more of a chore given the snug leather and the need to remove his boots, but the other man finally managed it, coaxing him to shift his weight at the right time, making Selphie gasp and moan with each shift, each tug. Her sounds became a heady distraction, and he felt close to exploding despite the frustration of not being able to move the way he wanted, the way his body craved. Until the pants were stripped off over his feet and he took the opportunity to thrust in and out of her once, hard. She arched up, moaning, head tipped back with pleasure and he bent down to take her mouth again, savoring her eager response.

But that was all the motion he got before strong hands clamped on his hips again, freezing him in place, deep inside of her once more. She was hot and slick and the scent of her, rising up around him, was heady and rich. He wanted to do nothing more than plunge into her until they both came, hard and wild. Like on Ragnarok. Savage and fierce. But the commanding hands held him firmly in place, preventing him from moving.

"Oh no you don't... not yet," Irvine said with another rippling laugh.

Squall tore his mouth away from Selphie's to gasp out a protest. "What the hell?"

"Patience, Leonhart." Irvine shifted behind him, moving closer. Squall felt a knee slide firmly between his braced legs, felt the hard length of Irvine's cock brush against the back of his thigh. And he tensed, suddenly uncertain, eyes opening in startled surprise to stare sightlessly ahead.

"What are you doing, sweetie?" Selphie moaned a protest, giving voice to his concern, and flexed her hips under him, making him moan involuntarily. "I want him... oh... please!"

"But I want him too, sunshine."

"Ooh!" Selphie said, and her eyes opened too and she stared up at him with raw desire for a moment before her gaze flickered past him, behind him, to settle on Irvine. Squall frowned down at her, uneasy, startled as one hard hand suddenly moved away from his hip. Then he heard the sound of something being opened.

"What..."

A hand slid down his hip and around, brushing over the crack of his ass, and he bit the rest of the question off with a sharply drawn breath. Selphie was running her hands over his chest, speaking to him soothingly but he paid little attention to anything but the fingers that were parting him, slippery but sure, and then, like before in Esthar, he felt the firm pressure of Irvine's fingers on the lowest entrance of his body. He tensed despite himself, despite the remembrance of pleasure to come and felt pain for a moment, but then Selphie's hands caught his face and drew his mouth down to hers eagerly. She devoured his mouth, her tongue warm and eager, distracting him enough so the pain faded, turning to an echo of the remembered pleasure instead. His cock pulsed inside her in response, and he was lost in the odd sensation of filling her while being filled - Irvine's finger slick and hard as it slid inside of him.

"That's it, easy," Irvine said, his voice curiously muffled. "Just a little bit more..."

He grunted involuntarily as Irvine pulled his finger part way out for a moment, only to slide a second slick finger inside of him beside the first. Stretching him. And he knew for certain what was to come then, and moaned in heady understanding.

Willing, now, to accept what they had asked of him in Esthar, but he had been unable to allow.

Willing, now, to permit Irvine to take him, just as he was taking Selphie. All three of them, linked.

"Move your leg - put it over hers," Irvine instructed him quietly. And he did so, bracing himself and opening himself to Irvine, his cock jumping inside of Selphie. She moaned, biting at her lower lip to control herself, her eyes heavy with desire and anticipation. She wanted it too. She wanted to see this happen... to feel the both of them... through him... above her... moving.... His mind went hazy as the two fingers slid deeper inside him, brushing that spot he remembered and a wave of intense sensation made him lower his head to her shoulder, breathing fast and short, almost panting, feeling the sweat start on his forehead.

"Okay?" Irvine asked, and Squall could feel Selphie nodding below him, heard his own voice give gruff agreement. Blood was roaring in his ears now, his cock so hard inside Selphie that he felt as if he was part of her... never to be separated... bound by flesh and need and the heat of anticipation. Irvine shifted behind him again, one raised knee outside his own this time, a hand braced on his hip rocking him forward and into Selphie as his position was adjusted. She was panting, emitting eager little sounds of pleasure that were driving him mad.

The fingers drew out of him slowly. He gave a soft cry of denial that choked off abruptly as almost immediately something else took their place. Slick, hard, the broad head of Irvine's cock pressed at his ass. His body resisted again, an instinctive response, and he tried to will himself to relax. Failed, and the pain grew sharp, this intrusion so much more than what he'd experienced before. He flinched and Irvine paused, bending over him to speak soothingly to him.

"Easy, Squall, easy," he said in a voice was like honey, slow and warm, that resonated within him. "Remember the way it was before? Remember how it felt when I touched you deep inside? My cock will feel even better, I promise... and Selphie will feel it too... every move I make in you will go into her... and you'll feel it all... so tight... so good."

At Irvine's low words, he felt Selphie shudder beneath him, her body tensing around him. A rich pulsing started around his cock and she gave a little gasping cry of surprise as she came, her body arching tight to his own. Squall groaned, shuddering and trying to control himself, trying to keep from coming right along with her, far too soon, and it was in that instant of heady confusion that Irvine pushed inside of him.

A brief burn, an impossible stretch that felt as if it was going to rip him apart, then Irvine was deep inside in a rush - all the way - hips pressed tight to Squall's ass, his hands braced behind Squall's own. Irvine's ragged breath was hot on Squall's shoulder as he struggled to keep his full weight off of the two beneath him, awkwardly balanced, yet somehow he managed it. Then Selphie moaned, her hips surging up against the pressure, trapping Squall between the two of them.

He cried out, helplessly, as Irvine's cock struck deep inside him with the motion. Struck something that sent pleasure like a strike of lightning through his body, fast and consuming, leaving him shaking and gasping in its wake. The sensation almost too intense for him to take, to comprehend. He had no experience with this level of pleasure. He felt his precious control begin to crack under the strain. Then one of Irvine's hands shifted, fingers covering his, winding through them, a husky voice murmuring what sounded like reassurances in his ear. But he could hear nothing clearly through the pounding of his pulse, the rapid throb of his heart, the harsh suck of air into desperate lungs.

It was too much.

Too much to feel, to absorb. Selphie, hot and tight beneath him. Irvine, hard and deep inside him.

He was trapped. Held unbearably close between them. Pleasure no longer an option, but something he could only endure. Squall groaned deep and long, arms trembling as he struggled to keep himself upright, to keep from crushing Selphie beneath him. Her arms wound around him eagerly, her hands stroked him everywhere, even as Irvine pulled back and began to move inside him, slick and deep, and - impossibly - the pleasure rose. Because he himself slipped back and forth within Selphie's heat with every motion of Irvine's hips, as promised, and the pleasure was doubled. Tripled. Each strike within him driving him spiraling up and up until he could barely withstand it, his cries becoming closer to sobs, heedless of the growing concern in the voices calling to him until he came inside Selphie beneath him in a desperate, clenching rush that blanked everything from his perception for a timeless eternity of blazing pleasure.

He slowly became aware of a hard arm circling his waist, holding him up when he would have collapsed. Lips pressed tenderly against his sweat-damp shoulder; long hair trailed over him, catching, tugging in the moisture. Another arm crossed his chest, then pulled him up and away from Selphie, rolling him back against a firm chest, bracing him, still impaled, between strong thighs. Irvine filled him, held him close to his own sweating chest, the pulse of the other man's heart strong against his back. Squall reached blindly over his shoulders, hands clutching at Irvine's neck, his arm. Seeking contact even as he arched into the hard length that filled him, his own thighs trembling as he braced himself before the other man. Feeling Irvine's cock press directly on that place that made everything else fade.

No responsibility. No magic. No fear. No junctions. No self-doubt. Just raw, clawing pleasure and borderline pain. Ecstasy beyond belief. Oblivion.

"Oh, gods, Irvine... look at him... look... oh gods!"

If Irvine answered her, he didn't hear it, lost within the pleasure as he felt Irvine drive up over and over again, lifting him with each thrust of strong thighs. Moving deep inside him. He grunted and cried out with each plunge, uncaring of the sounds that emerged from his throat. Uncaring that he'd already come once, because the pleasure was there, regardless, sharp and wild. There were hands on his body beside the ones holding him up. Teasing his nipples. Tracing the taut lines of his body. Sending fire through him from this unexpected source. Making him moan and cry out more, utterly abandoned to sensation. A mouth locked over his, nimble and eager. He tasted Selphie but felt Irvine surrounding him, driving him relentlessly up, the pleasure building until his body could stand no more and clenched once again. His drained cock somehow managed to produce a feeble spurt, far too soon after the last, making it more pain than pleasure. But he shouted out his pain-pleasure against Selphie's mouth as he felt Irvine give one last thrust up into him and hold there, shuddering, as a subtle warmth filled him.

Selphie gave a little gasping shriek when Irvine toppled over on his side, tumbling them all across the wide bed, Squall still held firmly in his arms. Selphie collapsed down beside them, her hands seeking and finding him, moving over to cuddle herself against him too. All of them drenched in sweat, hot and gasping.

Drained, sated, exhausted, Squall allowed himself to sink down into their arms. His body held securely, his dazed mind drifted, not even feeling it when Irvine pulled out of him, unaware of anything beyond lingering bliss until he thought he heard strange voices calling him. Was startled, but not enough to rouse fully, to recognize the voices of his junctioned Guardian Forces Shiva and Cerberus just before consciousness slipped completely from his grasp.

He fell into darkness.

Alone.

And for once, it didn't matter.

Because he knew Selphie and Irvine both would be waiting for him on the other side...

Squall was a limp deadweight in her arms. He breathed, that much she knew for certain, but otherwise he was as still as death. Deeply asleep in only an instant, poor boy. Her own blood was still pumping too quickly, her mind racing too fast for her to succumb like he had to the lethargy that came after sex. It was just that way sometimes, and it was okay.

Oh, now that had been worth the wait. Definitely. Selphie shuddered, still feeling the aftershocks resounding within her. Replaying each incredible moment in astonished satisfaction and savoring the remembered glory, as well as the feel of Squall relaxed so trustingly in her arms now. Her arms tightened around him convulsively and her hand brushed over Irvine's sweaty chest beyond. A warm hand closed around hers in response, squeezing gently.

Oh yes. More than worth it.

Smiling smugly, she pried her heavy eyes open and looked fondly at the man sleeping heavily in her arms. Squall's face was slack now, no trace of the almost heavenly abandon that had graced his face earlier remained.

"Okay, sunshine?" A husky voice broke the silence. She let her gaze travel up until it struck heavy-lidded golden eyes beyond the dark head that lolled between them. The skin around those lovely eyes crinkled in a smile, but she didn't look away to verify the expression. Lost in the tenderness, the contentment, the weary satisfaction she found there. So beautiful, her lover. So generous. Then she smiled tenderly at him; he looked barely awake as well. Both her boys, worn out. She was going to have to tease them mercilessly about having the most stamina of them all. She chuckled softly in anticipation of that.

"Oh, more than okay," she said, snuggling closer to Squall, her eyes closing. "Thank you, lover." Irvine squeezed her hand lightly again in reply, then his grip slackened as he too drifted off to well-deserved sleep.

She lay quiet for a while then, just listening to them both breathe, her mind a fuzzy blank. Rare, for her, to be so content in tranquillity, but the still warmth of Squall, the occasional brush of Irvine's hand as he twitched in his sleep was soothing. She felt lazy and sated herself, and after a time, began to finally slip toward slumber. And it was then that Leviathan stirred, bringing the sense of something vast and ancient uncoiling from the depths of her mind.

Did we disturb you? she asked him soundlessly, teasing and indulgent. But the magical force sent her a piercing sensation of wordless anguish in reply that made her forget her amusement. Images flickered through her mind, accompanied by emotions. Longing. Emptiness. Grief. She frowned, startled by the power of the feelings that washed through her, each tinted with the strange, silent strength of the dragon-like entity.

Leviathan had never spoken directly to her, as the shyer Carbuncle sometimes would, but he would sometimes send flashes of insight instead. Almost like premonitions: telling her where and how an enemy would react; if there were more enemies lurking nearby; how wounded her companions were. Those flashes served her well in battle. She had learned to pay close attention to them. But these feelings, these images just confused and alarmed her.

They made no sense... all of them falling through water like air, surrounded by vast bubbles... a slender shape in a SeeD uniform huddled in on itself on the cracked basketball court at Trabia... a dark shape trudging alone across an endless dusty plain, an ice-blue blade dragged trailing behind... a golden wash of light coming over a tall, crumpled form where it lay on a platform amid the stars... a line of low stones marked with what looked like names... Each image flowed slowly through her mind overlaid with intense feelings of despair and grief. Pain. Loss. Why was he showing her this now? Now when all of them were blissfully content after a bout of truly amazing sex and not an enemy in sight for the foreseeable future? She almost sobbed in disappointment, in frustration. Why now?

The cool strength of the GF flowed through her like water. Leviathan turned in her mind, rising higher as if summoned, suddenly fixing her with a gleaming cobalt eye. Apprehension surged.

"What are you trying to tell me?" she whispered aloud.

The heart binds. Tend the bonds well or lose all.

The voice was deep and resonant, echoing through her mind. She gasped slightly and clutched tighter to Squall, and to Irvine's hand. They were her heart. Was that what it meant? Was it warning her she was going to lose one of them? Squall? Or Irvine? In battle?

"I won't let it anything happen to them! What does that mean?" she demanded.

Time. Time will become a doorway. The heart is the seal.

With those last cryptic words, the guardian force turned with a great roll of scale and fin and retreated back into the place of magic in her mind, refusing to answer her desperate pleas for clarification. Uneasy, she questioned Carbuncle about Leviathan's words until the little creature cowered with distraught confusion at the back of her mind and she had to leave it be or unbind it's junctions for a time. And that would cost her magic strength that had been carefully built and hoarded over the last chaotic weeks. Not good, when Squall would be counting on her support in the busy days ahead.

Selphie lay, eyes wide, her heart pounding in unaccustomed dread. Wondering what it meant that Leviathan had finally spoken to her. Wondering if she should wake her lovers and tell them about it. Then wondering if that would make the warning useless if she did... Confused, she buried her face against Squall's sleek hair. No, the words, the pictures had been so vague, she couldn't really explain why they had bothered her so without the feelings preceding them anyway. The anguish and the loss... she didn't like to think about those feelings. So terrifying... With a shudder she decided it wasn't worth waking them. She'd wait and tell them both later. Her arms trembled around the men in her hold as she struggled with her unease, but it wasn't long before she fell into a restless sleep.

The leaves of the grape vines rustled loudly in the swirling wind, sounding uncannily like the movements of monsters in search of food. He wished desperately that Seffie hadn't found that book of old monster-tales yesterday. Or that he'd been talked into reading them to her with the aid of a flashlight under the covers last night. Why couldn't she have read them alone? The purple-black sky shot with jagged forks of lightning reminded him of too many of the tales where little children were taken away by blood-hungry monsters more than willing to sneak into well-protected homes.

The stone house behind him shuddered with another crack of thunder. Irvine stood next to Matron, his hands wound tightly in the crinkled fabric of her skirt, staring out into the once-familiar courtyard entranceway of the orphanage, now gone shadowy and ominous.

He was a big boy now. Seven years old last week. He was smart and could read the best of any of them... except maybe Quisty. Better even than Seifer who was a whole year older than him; he had even heard Matron say so to Mr. Cid one night when he was supposed to be asleep and had been creeping into the girl's room to climb in beside Seffie. So he wouldn't be afraid now - really he wouldn't - if not for the monster-tales last night, and the strange tension he could feel radiating from Matron beside him.

He'd only come out here because Seffie had begged him. Begged him to ask Matron one more time if they could go down to the beach. Seffie wanted to go down there so desperately. Because she wanted to see if the old tale was true that the treasure of pirates washed ashore during thunderstorms.

But now he was frozen, all the pleading words locked in his throat, as he stared around Matron's still form at the gate on the far side of the courtyard.

There was something moving out there. A tall, dark shape. Staggering. Something long and sharp glittered beside it as it took a step further into the courtyard, coming slowly out of the shadows of the vine trellis and down the mossy flagstone path.

It was a man. A man with a sword held bare in his hand, like out of one of Quisty's old fairy tales.

Matron sucked in a sharp breath. Her hand dropped onto his shoulder, even as the other rose to her waist.

"This is a peaceful place! What do you want here?" Matron called, her voice firm in that tone Irvine recognized from the times when Seffie had dragged him into trouble.

"So, it's true then. I'd recognize that golden-eyed Galbadian brat at your side anywhere." It was a man's voice. Filled with a tone that he couldn't quite understand. Not exactly angry, but not friendly either.

Matron shifted slightly in front of him, shielding him from the man's icy glare. He inched around her to keep the stranger in sight. Afraid to take his eyes off him.

"You will find nothing here. We have no valuables. There is no money here. All of that is kept in trust on the mainland."

"No valuables? Are the lives in your keeping worth nothing then, Edea Kramer?" the man said, the sword at his side swinging slowly through the air in a lazy arc. Irvine found his gaze locked on the hard glitter of it as somewhere in the storm-shot sky above lighting flared again. It wasn't just a sword, he saw then, it was a gunblade. A truly legendary weapon. Was this man a hero then, come to save them from monsters hiding in the storm?

Matron's breath hissed in again and her hand fell away from his shoulder, fisting at her side. And her tone firmed in a way Irvine had never heard before, a way that made him shiver and clutch even tighter to her skirts, glad that it was the stranger to whom she spoke and not him.

"I do not know you, and so I do not understand what ill you could bear me and mine, but you will find that I am no easy target. I will allow no harm to come to those under my protection." She raised her hands between them and something like icy fire danced around the tips of her fingers. Irvine stared; frightened, fascinated, thrilled. Matron could do magic?

But the strange man just laughed. And it was a chilling sound. "So fierce! But what would you say if I told you that you could save them all - and the world itself - much pain later in life by killing just one of them now?"

"I would say you are a foolish man who needs help."

A dark expression crossed the man's face. He raised the gunblade high, bracing one hand against the blade itself as he looked past the blade at the woman before him. "Don't play games with me, Sorceress Edea. I know you sense the spell in the air, changing the world... changing everything. It will all be over soon... one way or another. Can't you feel it coming?"

Irvine trembled. He could feel it - a distant menace. Matron said nothing for a time. Far-away thunder rumbled.

"Who are you?" she said at last, lowering her hands.

The man moved a long stride closer, his tattered coat blowing around him in the swirling winds. He swung the gunblade down in a long, dramatic swipe. "You don't recognize me? I'm crushed, Matron. I'm told you recognized Leonhart right off."

But before Matron had a chance to speak, Irvine found himself blurting out, "Seifer! It's Seifer all growed up, Matron!"

Matron's breath hissed in sharply, then he felt her nod in agreement. Icy blue eyes fixed on him from across the windswept courtyard and the tall blond-haired man gave him a twisted smile and a half-bow that even he understood to be mocking.

"I can see Martine was even more incompetent than the witch thought. He missed out completely on what a perceptive little shit you are, Kinneas."

"Don't speak to him that way, he's just a child," Matron said, taking a half-step forward. "Seifer, let me help you..."

The man swung his gunblade in a short, vicious arc. As if warding away her words. "I tried to guide this... through time compression... I wanted a chance to stop it before it started... to put my blade through the brat's heart and end it all before it began... but it seems I'm still stuck to the bitch. She'll be here soon. Even in death I can't get away from her..."

"Seifer, if you came here, to me, then there is still hope. Don't abandon who you were - don't abandon the bright dreamer I know..."

Irvine stared at the man who slung the heavy gunblade casually up onto his shoulder, head thrown back as he laughed at Matron's words. The laughter was loud and harsh. It frightened him.

"It was my dreams that fucked us all over, Matron." Elegant brows lowered in a dark scowl. "And if you have any compassion at all you'll go back in there and shove a pillow over that foolish dreamer's face before he has a chance to grow up and ruin everyone's lives."

"No. Never. I won't give any of you up!" Matron cried. "There must be something that made you come here, against the power of the spell; to warn me... No, someone you are trying to protect... someone you love..."

Pain twisted the scarred face. The frightening grown up man who was somehow also the angry, bullying boy he knew as Seify turned away, his coat swirling around him again in the rising wind. Suddenly familiar.

Stubborn. Proud. Forlorn. He heard the echo of a demon's laughter deep in his mind.

"Rin's better off without me... as she says I'm not worthy to be anyone's Knight..."

Bitter. Lost. Power and pain sang within him. Irvine took a step forward, away from Matron's side. The porch flickered and began to fade, fraying in the wind. Like the other man's voice. Urgency rose in him. Desperation. As if a critical moment that would not come again was passing him by.

"No, Seifer, wait...!"

"...let Leonhart watch over her... he's the better man... stronger..."

Anguish shot through him; a sharp sensation of disaster looming, of faulty choices being made. But his child's voice couldn't be heard in the rising wind. Irvine cried out again, louder this time, his voice deeper. "Seifer, that's not it! Squall's changed... he let us in..."

The tall shape began to blur and the bruised colors of the day to run in the way of a watercolor left out in the rain... his mind whirled... dreamlike... frantic... and was it dream after all? Just a dream of memory. Or... a premonition? He struggled against the heaviness of nightmare now, the leaden lethargy that kept one from moving as one wished. Trapped, as the other man walked slowly away, his pleas unheeded... or unheard.

"Seifer..."

His voice choked off in his throat. He struggled to speak against a power that seemed to come from the very air itself, finally breaking that hold only by reaching within, ignoring the mocking demon that lived inside him, reaching instead for the silent creature that lived within the storm. Quezacotl fed him strength and magic without question or hesitation, and power flowed through him in a crackling surge, freeing his tongue.

"Seifer, Rinoa loves you... Don't give up on her!" he cried to the fraying dream-shape as the storm-tossed orphanage began to dissolve in his mind. It could have been his imagination, but he thought he saw the blond head lift in response. Thought he saw the icy blue eyes lock on the man he was rather than the boy he had been, both of them standing at the gate of that long-ago courtyard, somehow, face to face for a stretched instant of unreality.

And in that moment, he realized his body ached and he was heavy with exhaustion and a growing sense of hopelessness. As if he had been battling - or searching - for a long time. His boots and chaps were scuffed and stained with gray-black dust. His torn duster swirled around him in the wind, reeking with the residue of unfamiliar magic; a rifle he didn't recognize weighed heavy from his hand.

For that one startlingly clear instant, Seifer stared at him with fresh blood dripping down from the scar between his eyes and Irvine felt a tentative hope stir.

Lightning struck, shattering the gatepost beside them. Within him, Quezacotl wailed in anguish and in fear as shards of marble rained around him, thunder deafened him. The flash half-blinded him, the afterimage dominating his vision. Seifer spun away into the darkness and chaos of the growing storm beyond, and the moment was lost as if it had never been...

When Squall woke it was to find their bodies all still tangled in a rough pile of entwined limbs and sticky skin. Awareness returned slowly, almost languidly, for once. His head was pillowed on Selphie's chest; he lay facing her, one arm draped over her waist, the other bunched beneath him. Irvine was behind her, her slim form caught securely against his chest, a heavy arm draped over her and Squall both. Squall lifted his head briefly and looked up into slitted amber eyes barely visible in the distinctive morning sun-glare that leaked through the blinds over the window. There was something there, a shadow, for an instant, then Irvine smiled tenderly at him around Selphie's tangled hair and an odd ache tightened his chest.

Love. He loved them both, helplessly. There was no denying it. But there was no saying it either. Not for him. He hid his tormented gaze behind drooping lids, willing the ache in his chest to fade.

He'd woken half-hard, in his usual morning fashion, but the sight and feel of them there beside him hardened him completely, giving him a ready distraction. He shifted slightly and, to his surprise, Selphie stirred, hips rolling against his restlessly in response. Apparently, for once, he had been the last to awaken. Her eyes were still closed but a small smile teased at her faintly puffy lips.

"Well, good morning to you too, sweet thing..." Selphie said, her voice faintly hoarse. There was no urgency in her tone, just a sleepy contentment. She had been sated the night before, it seemed. The concept was faintly surprising, given the sexual endurance she'd so far demonstrated. It concerned him for a moment until she made a move to hug him, only to wince dramatically and exclaim, "Oh! Oh! I think my arm's gone dead!" His lips curved slightly in a sympathetic grimace as she shifted urgently against him, trying to free the arm that lay under his head, tangled with Irvine's. Her awkward movements jarred all of them, spurring him to move, and sending a wave of pins-and-needles feeling down his own trapped arm.

"Huh, mine too," he heard himself say. Irvine's hand stirred on his shoulder then stroked down to cup his upper arm as the Galbadian chuckled with transparently thin sympathy. The strong hand encircling his arm felt good. Just as good as the soft feminine body currently wriggling against his own.

"Oh, you poor babies," Irvine snickered.

"Too many arms all wedged in here... there's not enough room!" Selphie groaned, rolling her shoulder to encourage the circulation to return faster. Then she hissed and groaned in pain as it did so. Squall had lifted his head just enough to allow her that freedom of motion after shifting enough so that the blood was flowing freely again in his own arm - he stoically ignored the distinctive stinging sensations as feeling slowly returned. When Selphie finally stopped twitching, he lowered his head back down on her chest with a contented sigh. Her hand found its way into his hair, clever fingers threading through the strands and stroking soothingly over his scalp.

"Shoulda cast Float on us all last night," Irvine muttered, amused, as he twitched his own arms, shifting to get comfortable again once Selphie was done moving.

She snorted softly in reply. "That spell doesn't last very long, then crash we go right down on the bed again - wide awake!"

"Just tryin' to help, sunshine," Irvine drawled. "But then, my arm didn't fall asleep even with both of ya layin' on it. Must be my superior Galbadian physique."

"Superior Galbadian ego, maybe..."

Securely wrapped in the simple warmth of their bodies and their easy acceptance, listening to their teasing banter, Squall absorbed the moment. And to his astonishment, he realized he was relaxed in a way he'd never been before; his mind empty, his body at ease. Between the two of them, they had somehow managed to make even the seemingly endless worries and doubts that plagued him vanish for a time. It was rare and precious to him, this mental peace. But it couldn't last. He was the Commander of Balamb SeeD and Knight to a new Sorceress. Responsibility and duty demanded his presence elsewhere soon - and theirs as well. The world was waiting to be saved.

"What time is it?" he asked gruffly, reluctant to spoil the moment. Irvine gave a great gusting, exasperated sigh, but he felt him turn his head to look across the room at the centrally-controlled clock built into the wall above every dorm-room outer door in Garden. Selphie clutched him tighter, a tiny frown of denial marring her brow. She had her eyes closed again in the dimness of the room.

"Oh-eight-hundred twenty-seven," the Galbadian said with clear resignation. "Past time to get movin', I s'pose you're gonna say."

"Then I don't have to say it, do I?" Squall said, injecting the barest hint of dry amusement into his voice. Selphie giggled. After a long moment of continued mutual stillness, Irvine spoke again with his own measure of dry amusement. "Hey, you're on top of the pile here, Leonhart. If you don't get a move on, none of us will."

With a guilty start, Squall realized he was right. Selphie's eyes flashed open and she grinned at him with cheerful smugness before he pulled away to sit up. The top sheet had somehow ended up bunched awkwardly around his hips and he tugged at it with excess concentration as he felt a slight burn of embarrassment touch his face.

"Oh, you're so cute when you blush!" Selphie crowed happily. Bemused, Squall just blinked at her, wondering why she took such inordinate pleasure in his laziness. Irvine rolled his eyes and sat up abruptly, bringing Selphie with him. She clutched him around the neck, curling up on his lap and snuggling against him as he braced his back against the wall, tanned arms holding her close. She buried her face against his chest with a shuddering sigh. Squall froze for a moment and just stared at the sight of the lean, pale woman laid out across the hard expanse of golden-skinned man beside him. Long strands of russet hair trailed over her slender shoulders, falling down from around his attentively bowed head. Selphie tipped her head back abruptly and grinned up at Irvine, somehow looking impish and alluring all at the same time. Irvine just smiled back for a moment, brows lowering slightly, before bending down further to give her a quick peck on the end of her nose. She giggled and Squall almost stopped breathing at the image they made; his heart aching again, stomach dropping, need and fear and longing warring in his mind.

They made it look so easy. While most of the time he had to work so very hard to even allow himself to accept without flinching away from what they so freely offered. Closeness. Belonging. Reaching for it still seemed beyond him.

But they wanted him. They'd somehow opened their circle enough to include him - firmly he fought down an unwelcome hitch in his throat, a suspicious burning in his eyes - yet they seemed so complete already... Doubt had been banished for a time by the fervor of the night; he wasn't truly surprised by its return.

"Unfortunately, my shower's not anywhere near big enough for all three of us - or even really two, eh, sunshine? - but we could give it a try... or do you just wanna go first, Squall?" Irvine said, looking up and giving him a faintly challenging grin as he allowed the slim girl to burrow close under his chin. Clearly implying that he wasn't adverse at all to just staying put with Selphie for a little while longer. Without him. Squall gathered his composure, looking down at hands that had fisted tightly in the sheet.

"I need to check on Ragnarok's re-supply."

"Hey, relax! Quisty and Xu are on it," Irvine said airily. "They'll see that FH does what they promised before we have to go back to Esthar..."

With a sharp gasp Selphie straightened up. "We're going back to Esthar?" At Squall's nod she pushed away from Irvine, gushing, "Oh, wow!" before bouncing eagerly off the end of the bed. The stunned disappointment on Irvine's face was almost comical. Selphie grinned over her shoulder at them both. "Esthar again... Oh, hey, I think that's a great idea - you boys go shower..." They both blinked after her now, vaguely puzzled, as she pawed around among the clothes she'd dumped on Irvine's desk, her eyes glittering with an almost manic glee.

"What's got into you, sunshine?" Irvine asked, frowning slightly.

"Other than both of you?" She snickered and grinned wickedly back at him before making an impatient clucking sound as she planted small fists on bare hips. "Oh, none of that now! I've got lots of things to do! I need to check on the Garden Festival message board and see how many volunteers I have now and... Oh! What are you two doing just sitting there?" She whirled back to stand at the end of the bed, naked and lovely, waving her hands in an impatient shooing motion at the both of them. "We're going to Esthar! Up and at 'em! Get! Go shower!" Squall traded mildly confused looks with Irvine, but, with a careless shrug and a resigned chuckle, the other man just slid his way off the bed, urging Squall along with him.

"Well, the lady has spoken - let's go, Leonhart."

Squall allowed himself to be hustled off into the small dorm bathroom. The door slid closed behind them automatically, sealing them into the tiny room together. Both of them naked. The space really wasn't designed for more than one person at a time and so he found himself pressed back against the tiny sink as Irvine bent into the shower cube, adjusting the water temperature. He'd already noted - just in passing, of course - that Irvine was suffering from a little morning wood as well.

And suddenly it seemed almost natural for him to slide his hands along those sleek golden flanks until his hands cupped jutting hipbones. Just as it was then just as natural to follow through and lean against that straight back, resting his chin on a firmly muscled shoulder. Long red-gold hair brushed cool against his cheek and his semi-hard cock pulsed gently against the back of Irvine's thigh.

Irvine stilled. Hands damp from testing water temperature covered his own where they now lay spread flat on Irvine's hard stomach. He found himself more than content in that instant to just hold Irvine in his arms. He was erect, but there was no urgency behind it for once. More of a gentle acknowledgement. An awareness.

"You never cease to amaze me, Leonhart," the other man said quietly over the hissing sound of the water.

"Why?" Squall mumbled, barely moving, absorbing the sense of the other man's breath and pulse.

"Oh, nothin'... How you feelin'?"

Ah. The apparently obligatory question for the morning after. His ass did ache in a vague way, he supposed. Just enough to remind him that what had occurred the night before had actually happened. Every remarkable second of it. Squall let a small, pleased grin curve his lips on one side - the side touching Irvine's shoulder. He knew the other man correctly interpreted the motion because he sucked in a quick, surprised breath.

"Fine," he replied at last.

But rather than make a huge deal about either last night's events or the smile, as he half expected him to, Irvine just snorted, sliding his hands up Squall's encircling arms and holding them in place, their arms entwined. It felt good, that hold. Then Irvine let out an exasperated sigh along with the words, "'Fine'? What never ceases to amaze me is how little you change no matter what we do. Damn, Squall, do I have to torture you to get more than a single word out of you at a time? It was loads more than 'fine' you ingrate and you know it!"

"Okay," Squall said. Then his fledgling smile faded away as an unwanted memory surfaced despite his current contentment. "Torture didn't work for Seifer."

Irvine tensed against him for a moment. "Seifer... had a strange dream 'bout him last night."

"A dream?"

"Yeah... or a memory. From the orphanage... with Matron... I saw..." Irvine let out a slow shuddering breath. "You know, I think it's best I'm there when we finally run into that boy again."

A flare of strong emotion ran through him. It took him a moment to identify it. Jealousy. Was he actually jealous? He wasn't sure he enjoyed the feeling.

"Why?" His tone was sharper than he wanted.

"Hey, ain't I the diplomat of the group? Isn't that what everyone's always sayin'? Even Quisty?" Irvine gave a snort of laughter and with a short step forward drew him into the shower stall with him and under the warm spray. Water cascaded over his face and chest.

"C'mon, let's wash up and go find out what Seffie's up to," Irvine said with determined energy as he closed the folding glass door behind them. Changing the subject. Even he realized it. "I surely do get nervous whenever that girl decides to go without her morning quickie!" He shuddered dramatically. "We end up doin' concerts... with Quistis..."

Selphie was gone by the time they were finished in the shower. She'd been kind enough to leave their clothes laid out for them on the unmade bed before she skipped out on them - including a clean tee-shirt for Squall. But there was no underwear laid out for either of them, Irvine saw, lips twisting in amusement. He offered Squall a pair of his own - just in case - but they were ignored. The fact tickled him secretly. However, the Commander was back in full silent mode and it might have just been simple preoccupation on Squall's part, he had to concede with a mental sigh.

They dressed with a minimum of fuss - once he got his hair dry and brushed out properly, that was - and left his room. Squall didn't even look around to see if anyone was watching before he stepped out into the hall, bold as brass. Oblivious, as always, to the subtleties of social interaction, Irvine noted, as well as the startled, and then speculative, look on the face of the one older SeeD who happened to be passing through the hall at the time. He gave the man a raised brow look of his own from under the brim of his hat and the guy quickly averted his face, disconcerted. Irvine gave another mental sighed. Oh, well. And he'd just got the residents of his floor used to looking the other way when Selphie bounced out of his room first thing in the morning too...

Of course, if Selphie had been with them it would have been easier to pass it off as some kind of impromptu meeting in Irvine's room, but, then again, the bright purple hickey clearly visible on the pale skin of Squall's neck just above his collarbone was probably a dead giveaway that the Commander was up to more than just SeeD business in his room. Irvine sighed again as he followed Squall down the hall to the main stairs that led down to the breezeway connecting the dormitories with the rest of Garden.

Not much he could do about preserving Squall's reputation now, he realized. Damage control was always so much harder to manage than prevention. He wished Selphie had hung around a little longer. She'd seemed... odd... once she found out they were going back to Esthar. She hardly every went off on her own without at least a goodbye kiss, especially after a night like last night. And then she'd all but shoved him and Squall into the bathroom together. No, he knew his sunshine, and there was something off about her this morning.

And he meant to find out what. Soon.

- - to be continued - -