Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Living with Heart ❯ Living with Heart ( Chapter 5 )

Living with Heart

Act V

 

Slowly, hazel green eyes opened. Feeling as though he'd just gone through extensive catharsis, he smiled broadly and stared up at the ceiling. It was a sunny morning.

 

And then, his smile slowly fell, several thoughts and images coming back to him. He hadn't just woken up, he'd already woken up that morning.

 

Seized with fear, he cautiously turned his head to the right, detecting the presence of another person.

 

He saw a slender back, pale and unblemished, except for a sore looking bite mark near the right shoulder. The narrow waist and subtle flaring of slim hips were simply beautiful in their elegant curves. What promised to be an extremely nice butt was hidden beneath a partially drawn up quilt.

 

It wasn't until he stared at the back of unruly chestnut brown hair that he was filled with dread. The enticing curvature of this person's back suddenly seemed less feminine, but only because he now knew who it was.

 

Swallowing, he watched the gentle rise and fall of the young man's torso, desperate for Squall to be asleep while he fretted and panicked over what to do.

 

Maybe what he remembered was a dream, as unlikely a gift as it would be. He didn't often confuse reality and fantasy, but so bizarre was the reality he was in that he couldn't quite believe it was happening.

 

Reaching out, he grasped the quilt. Lifting it, he blushed while pointedly checking for evidence of intercourse. His stomach lurched with the feeling of having been caught in the middle of doing something he'd be in monstrous trouble for. While his eyes took a brief moment to soak in the sights, finding the smooth round buttocks to be droolingly sculpted, his brain was screaming at him for being such an idiot.

 

Both he and Squall were completely naked. There was semen, no doubt his own, drying between the cleft of shapely cheeks and trailing down a lean thigh. He'd fucked his own son.

 

Squall awoke at the feel of eyes boring into his back, sensing that Laguna as awake, perhaps five or ten minutes after he'd fallen asleep. There was likely to be a repeat of the President's episode after kissing him. Feeling the blanket lifted, he almost chuckled at the man's need for proof, as if memory wasn't enough.

 

Once the brunet felt confident that Laguna knew what the actual exchanges between them were, he bristled as if waking. For Squall, it was also a moment of uncertainty. He'd have to read Laguna's eyes, figure out if the man was beyond remorseful or if this would be a continued occurrence between them.

 

“Laguna,” he mumbled in a sleepy voice, a soft whisper.

 

As Squall shuffled to turn the other way, he reached out to pull the comforter higher, just in case the older man was horrified and the sight of his naked body would make it worse. Still lying down, he gazed up to the longhaired man who was propped on an elbow.

 

Laguna stared in fascination as Squall looked at him with foggy eyes. He'd expected the boy to blow up on him, accusing him of rape or something along those lines. It didn't matter that the brunet had been completely willing. It just felt like it was entirely his fault.

 

Blinking lazily, Squall reached out and lethargically twined a piece of long raven hair in his fingers. It felt silky despite the disarray Laguna's hair was in. “You look guilty,” Squall commented softly.

 

Laguna's brows drew together as if pained. Sitting up abruptly, he pulled his knees up and hugged them. Bowing his head, he let the shame and guilt wash over him, pushing him to tears. “What have I done?” he sobbed.

 

Alarmed, Squall watched with wide eyes. He hadn't exactly expected that reaction. He still had no clue if the President wanted him to stay or get the hell out. Tentatively, he reached out again and placed a gentle hand on the man's shaking shoulder.

 

Squall was struck with guilt as well. He'd been oblivious to his father's growing desires, when he could have stopped it early on. It was his fault the man was so torn, having committed what society thought of as a terrible sin. Truthfully, for Squall, the fact that Laguna was his father didn't matter. Social perceptions of what was acceptable had never really meant much of anything to Squall. For Laguna, it was obviously very different.

 

Whether or not Squall could relate to the older man's feelings wasn't the issue though, so the brunet shifted closer, feeling more extensive pain in his ass for it. He managed to sneak an arm around the older man's stomach, hugging the crying President. “Lay down,” he encouraged.

 

Laguna slowly uncurled, complying with the boy's demands.

 

Once Laguna was lying down, Squall pressed closer. He felt like he was consoling a child, pulling the older man to his chest and gently stroking tangled raven hair. “It's okay,” he whispered.

 

If Laguna were any less distressed, he'd have felt terribly awkward crying like a baby against the younger man's chest. He was only slightly taller, but significantly broader framed than the young SeeD.

 

“This isn't why I asked you here,” Laguna choked out, desperately trying to impress that point. He never intended for anything of this to happen. In fact, until last night, he'd never openly admitted that he felt attracted to the brunet.

 

“I know,” Squall replied, secretly wondering if that were not the case.

 

“What have I done?”

 

Squall considered this. Laguna was not the guilty party here. “You've done nothing wrong.”

 

Rearing back, Laguna stared in disbelief, his cheeks wet and his eyes filled with tears. “I've slept with my son,” he whispered, imploring Squall to recognize the fact so that he might begin to work for forgiveness.

 

“It sounds worse than it is,” Squall commented, never breaking the gaze.

 

“How can you be so indifferent?” Laguna accused.

 

Sighing, Squall realized he was betraying himself with his calmness. He felt guilty for Laguna's distress, but nothing more. He hadn't meant to seduce the man. It was an unfortunate accident, which had lead to the scenario he now dealt with. But he wasn't going to cry over spilt milk.

 

“I can leave now, and we can never speak of this again,” Squall offered. “Or,” he began, pausing to find the right words.

 

Laguna had stopped crying. He was holding his breath, imagining carrying on as though nothing had happened, as though he hadn't just has sex with the younger man. What other option was there?

 

“If this is something you want,” Squall began tentatively, trying not to make it sound wrong, “then I can give it to you.”

 

“What?” Laguna whispered, not understanding while at the same time not believing it.

 

Squall tried again. “If you want me, you can have me.”

 

“Is this a joke?” Laguna questioned with brewing anger. Why did Squall seem so unaffected by it?

 

“No,” the brunet answered.

 

In a storm of raw emotions, Laguna expressed his anger. Roughly pinning Squall to the bed, he tested the boy's seriousness. Dipping down, he captured soft lips, certain they were as abused as his own.

 

Squall understood what Laguna was doing. The older man was testing him, seeing if he'd pulled away. Parting his lips, he invited the President to once again plunder his mouth. He responsiveness extended to raking his nails across the President's broad and strong back.

 

Laguna managed to pull back before he lost himself again, knowing it would lead him to wake up and find that he'd just screwed the boy once more. “You're serious,” he managed in a pant, licking his lips.

 

“Quite,” Squall commented with ill-disguised amusement. Just because he was supposed to make everyone happy didn't mean he couldn't enjoy himself while doing it.

 

“Is this pity?”

 

Again, Squall considered the longhaired man's meaning, turning the words over for a thoughtful moment. “I don't do pity,” he finally responded.

 

Hazel green eyes softened. For the first time in many hours, he felt the first lighthearted emotion. It was probably true. Squall wasn't called the Ice Prince for nothing. “I still don't understand,” Laguna admitted.

 

“…”

 

“What about Rinoa?” Honestly, the fact that Squall had cheated and was offering to keep cheating was hardly his main concern.

 

“It would be best if she didn't know,” Squall pointed out, wondering what the young sorceress would do if she knew of all his transgressions.

 

Laguna was disappointed in Squall. Where was that sense of fierce loyalty? Was this the same person who had gently carried the young woman all the way to her rooms and paced with worry over her well being?

 

Perceptively, Squall picked up on the look in hazel green eyes. In quick debate, he considered where his loyalties would be best placed. He was the ideal mercenary, truly able to cut ties and attachments for the benefit of his employer. Cid would not be happy about breaking it off with Rinoa, but President Loire was far more important than General Caraway.

 

“I'm not in love with Rinoa,” he stated, wondering if that would satisfy the man or not. It was true enough.

 

Laguna's heart drummed pleasantly. Even if he knew Squall wasn't saying that he was the focus of that love, it caused soothing warmth to spread through him. “What are you saying?”

 

Squall knew what Laguna wanted. He could see it in the older man's eyes. The guilt was too great for a man who'd simply become overrun with the need for a good fuck. The testing of how serious he was served as further proof, the President wanting to know if it truly was possible.

 

Given what he knew of the emotionally expressive man, Squall was able to soundly conclude that Laguna wanted him both body and soul.

 

Squall was prepared to give what he could, knowing he would soon make the President unhappy for his inability of total submission. It wouldn't last long, even if Laguna managed to overcome the stipulation of being his father. He was mildly surprised that the former soldier had no issue with gender, or perhaps that little fact had yet to settle in.

 

“I can break up with her,” the brunet said, his eyes watering slightly as he stifled a yawn. He was tired and considering the use of a potion to relieve the soreness he'd be feeling the next time stood up.

 

“To what extent Squall? You're her knight. For Hyne's sake, you came to my rooms in the first place because of her,” Laguna spoke angrily, now remembering every detail, knowing for certain where his dream ended and where his newly altered reality began.

 

Squall sighed. Loyalty was apparently something important for Laguna. If the older man wanted him unattached to all others, then he would come unattached. “I can give up my knighthood,” he said, knowing that his offer was quite loaded. For Estharians especially, being a knight held respect and great honor if the sorceress didn't go around tyrannizing the locals.

 

Laguna was speechless, never expecting the boy to make such an offer. Squall was serious about this. But what exactly could they become?

 

Upon analyzing the situation a little more, Squall realized that being with Laguna would be decidedly better than being with Rinoa. He wouldn't have to deal with public affection, since that would be a disaster for the President. He wouldn't have to deal with headaches or the sickening fairytale ideals the raven-haired woman upheld. Laguna was a kindhearted goofball on the outside, but nothing Squall felt overly annoyed by. And in all honesty, his preference for male partners meant his attraction was greater for the raven-haired man.

 

Licking his lips, Squall felt rather inclined to manipulate the situation in his favor. “I'm not troubled by our relation,” he proclaimed, falling limply against the bed, arching his back a bit before laying still.

 

Laguna watched, hating how he felt aroused again. “How can you be so calm about all this? I wasn't the only one involved,” he stated, feeling a little better upon altering his perspective. Squall had been willing, working with him to take it to the next level.

 

Squall was more than certain he could make the older man disregard what he considered a small issue. Sitting up, wincing slightly, deciding he would definitely use a potion later, he reached out for the older man. He'd never seen this coming, previously finding a handshake the most intimate gesture he was willing to offer.

 

Leaning against Laguna, Squall slowly pushed the man back against the bed. Straddling the President's hips, seeing a demure blush rise in stubble ridden cheeks, he ducked lower and chastely kissed the man. There was hardly anything chaste about their softened cocks casually touching.

 

“You said you didn't know why you wanted me here. I said I'd indulge you.”

 

“This isn't what I had in mind,” Laguna defended, blushing deeper as he turned his head away.

 

“I'll admit I was shocked too.” Not to mention Squall had been equally horrified and angry with himself for not noticing sooner. “You can think about it,” Squall reminded, not wanting to corner the man.

 

“Think about what?” Laguna nearly shouted.

 

“About what it is you want from me.”

 

“I don't want anything,” Laguna replied too quickly, realizing that wasn't true. “What I mean is, this was wrong. It was wrong in the worst way.”

 

“Oh?” the brunet intoned impassively, wondering which part of the President's thick cock pounding into him was wrong.

 

“I'm your biological father Squall, you can't honestly say that doesn't create something of a problem.”

 

“It means no one else can know,” Squall whispered in the man's ear. Pressing further and gently kissing just under the jaw, grazing the flesh with his teeth as he nibbled.

 

“What are you doing to me?” Laguna groaned, pressing his head back into the pillow beneath to give the boy better access.

 

Squall pulled back, leveling the older man with an intense gaze. “Four months ago, you didn't know me. If you didn't know that I was your son, what would you be doing now?”

 

Laguna considered this. Sadly, if he didn't know Squall was his son, the brunet would still be in Balamb with Rinoa hanging off one arm and every government official making lewd comments. If he didn't know Squall was his son, he wouldn't be laying beneath the boy after having had the single most erotic experience of his life. Ashamed as he should have been, he'd be replaying the images of driving his swollen penis into the young man's butt over and over. Each time he jerked off, it would be to that moment.

 

“I don't know,” the President admitted, not liking a present that didn't include Squall.

 

“Then let it go,” Squall pushed.

 

Hesitant, Laguna asked, “Let what go?”

 

“Don't be guilty because I'm your son. It's a taboo only because of the birth defect it creates. I promise you, I can't get pregnant.”

 

Laguna almost laughed. He could listen to Squall talk all day, finding the boy's voice melodious and soothing. It was a shame the brunet was generally silent. But he quite enjoyed the pensive look Squall had during long bouts of silence. He'd had too short a time to observe the young man. He wanted more, more of everything. “I want it, I want more of this.”

 

Squall gave a soft smile, feeling victorious and relieved. His only guilt had been for Laguna's distress. If Laguna felt content about it, then there was nothing for him to feel bad about.

 

Laguna raised a hand and hooked it behind the brunet's head, pulling Squall down for another kiss. As it intensified, he felt his negative emotions waning and then dissipating as he became increasingly aroused. Flipping their forms over, Laguna became consumed once more, tasting and roving every bit of Squall's mouth.

 

If Squall were willing to give him whatever he wanted, then there would be plenty of time to set everything straight. For now, he felt like he was seventeen again, unable to suppress his libido.

 

TBC…