Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Living with Heart ❯ Living with Heart ( Chapter 10 )

Living with Heart

Act IX

Eyelids too heavy to open, Squall slowly came to and took in his surroundings without sight. It was soft and comfortable, perhaps in a bed. Gentle hands touched him, peeling off his clothing. The coolness of his skin told him that his clothes were wet.

“Laguna,” he whispered, figuring there was no one else who would be taking his clothes off.

“Squall,” the President hissed earnestly, as though making it a near whisper could mask his urgency.

Groggily, stormy blue eyes opened, blinking lethargically a few times before capable of focusing on the face above. Laguna hovered a little too close, making it twice as hard for Squall to clear the image up.

The sudden stinging slap to his cheek served quite well to snap his mind into overdrive. Squall barely registered that he'd been slapped when another one came.

“Are you finished,” the brunet snapped, turning on his side so that he might sit up.

“Not even close,” Laguna declared, almost shaking with the tirade of emotions coursing through him. He wanted to hit the boy again while at the same time he wanted to scoop him up in his arms and hold him.

Squall gave a small shake of his head, throwing off the last vestiges of his haze. Raising a hand to his face he pressed his cool fingers to his right cheek, the one that stung more. “I suppose you write with your left hand too,” he mumbled, knowing that Laguna was left handed.

“I'm sorry,” the longhaired man broke down. Still wearing his wet clothes, he crawled closer and threw himself at the boy. “Do you remember anything? Hyne Squall, please, you know who I am don't you?”

“Laguna,” Squall placated. The former Commander needed a moment to collect himself.

“You can't leave,” the older man demanded, “I won't let you.” Laguna had never been more frightened in his life. He'd been unable to comprehend what Squall meant by forgetting until he remembered what the Guardian Forces consequently did as a result of junctioning. Most SeeD forgot about their entire childhood, so what would have become of his couple weeks with Squall?

Squall relaxed under familiar weight of the President. “Does that mean you forgive me?” he questioned, feeling more grounded without the painful rift growing inside of himself. As tremendous a weight as having his memories back placed on him, it wasn't unbearable. He'd been in a particularly vulnerable state when it all came back, his mind unstable as the knight within him died.

“Only if you stay with me,” Laguna urged. It had been so long since he'd felt such feelings of love for anyone. He was growing old and doubted he'd ever feel this way again.

“If I'm with you, I can't go back to Balamb,” the brunet stated dejectedly, his voice muffled as he buried his head against the damp blue dress shirt.

Pulling back, Laguna framed the boy's pale face in his hands, the contrast of skin more noticeable. Staring into grey-blue eyes, he asked, “Do you remember?”

Shiva had been willing to help him, but the frightened look in Laguna's eyes before he'd junctioned her had changed his mind. In that single moment, when he decided to forego the loss of his memories, he condemned himself to the nightmarish dreams that came with his self-loathing and the exile he'd face for defying Cid. He wondered if Laguna would ever know how sorry he was for the farce and how much he'd given up on the whim that in their two weeks together, they had something that would last.

“I wanted to forget,” Squall replied. “There are so many things I wanted to forget.”

Laguna was hurt by these words, feeling as though Squall were specifically targeting their time together. Gently stroking the boy's warm cheek, made warmer from his strike against it, he asked, “Why did you want to forget about me? What have I done that's so terrible?”

Squall gave a faint smile, almost forlorn. “You've made me love you, and I knew I had to leave.” Now he couldn't, now he had chosen to place himself in the hands of this man he felt he barely knew. Two weeks ago, he'd have kicked himself for being so stupid and irresponsible. In fact, he felt extremely wary now that he remembered the full extent of why he needed to not rely on other people.

Almost every man he'd met was like Norg, easily seduced and taken over by lust. It had always been short term, every government official becoming bored after he gave them nothing more than sex. There were a few men who'd become obsessed and that he continually visited, but it was not usually that way. As powerful officials, they couldn't be seen with him, which made their wives far more convenient.

Grinning broadly, a rather goofy smile of sheer elation, Laguna beamed at the brunet. “But you're not leaving,” he pointed out.

“Not anymore,” Squall agreed evenly, “I can't. If we're involved, I can't go back.” It was nice to know that Laguna felt so strongly, wanting him to stay instead of saying it would be best he left. It reassured him that he had a sanctuary, though he didn't like the idea of running away, even if he'd been getting more practice at it lately.

“I don't understand. You could always come back.”

“It's complicated,” Squall said evasively, abhorring the idea of Laguna ever knowing about his past, about what he'd done, and most of all what he would have done again once back in Balamb.

“I don't care about anything else, just you. You're staying with me, that's all that matters.”

Squall couldn't help but disagree, knowing that Cid would demand his return. “You know we can't be anything but what we already are.” He stared up into hazel green eyes, once again becoming anchored by the absolute love he saw in them. The limp strands of dark raven hair almost made him smile at Laguna's obliviousness to everything but him. It felt nice to easily hold someone's attention so completely.

“What more could I want?” Laguna asked before leaning down and pressing his lips lightly against Squall's.

“A wife,” Squall muttered, “More children, a family, public approval,” he would have gone on, but Laguna silenced him by deepening the exchange.

Laguna slipped his tongue into Squall's welcoming mouth. Teasing the brunet, he withdrew after having a quick taste. He found that when done right, Squall became completely susceptible to being needy. It was yet another aspect of the boy he found enticing. The brunet would give off soft whimpers of want, needing for him to do something but too proud to say it. If Laguna could figure out what it was Squall needed quickly enough, he could tease the younger man mercilessly.

“I have all the children I need,” the President declare with a soft chuckle. “I'm not sure I could handle any more, you seem to take all my attention on your own.”

“Can't help it,” Squall said, licking his lips with longing, “I'm a daddy's boy.” It was a comment he knew Laguna would appreciate in a strange sense. Perhaps making fun of the fact that they were lovers would help to demerit the taboo.

“I bet you are,” Laguna jibed, gently undulating his hips. Nuzzling the boy's slender neck, he inhaled the faint scent of sandalwood. “I love the way you smell,” he confessed as if it were a terrible fetish.

“I imagine it reminds you of Galbadia,” Squall admitted.

“How'd you know?” Laguna gently nibbled on the brunet's ear.

“Cause I started wearing the cologne after it reminded of the way you smelled in Ellone's dreams.” It hadn't been anything other than an odd fancy. Rinoa had been urging him to start wearing something, a scent that made him distinctive. He was content with smelling like shampoo and soap, leather and oil. But, being forced to pick something, he'd chosen this particular scent since it reminded him of Laguna Loire in Deling City. The fragrance surrounded the continent nearby, around the Tomb of the Unknown King and Galbadia Garden. It also served to commemorate his first active role in the field, the attempt to assassinate Edea.

Laguna stilled his movements. Forgetting about teasing Squall, he went right for the young man's plush lips. With fervor, he meshed his own lips to them. He doubted he'd ever learn everything there was to know about Squall. The boy only seemed to admit things one small piece at a time. It set his blood on fire.

Squall spread his legs, bucking up against the handsome President. Parting his lips more, he met the man's seeking tongue with his own, moaning as they desperately entwined the wet appendages in mounting desire.

Physical pleasure could serve as a remedy for the mind when done right, when given so much to experience that the brain couldn't dwell on the unwanted. Squall half suspected that a good fuck would set his mind straight, or at least remind him that taking a chance with Laguna had perks.

Laguna could feel the difference, deep inside of himself and subtly within the succulent responsiveness the brunet gave. Squall was submitting to him completely, open to him completely. It was this feeling more than anything that made him realize how much the young man actually cared.

Admittedly, Laguna was surprised by it. He was pushing fifty and it always seemed too good to be true that Squall was with him, not to mention highly bizarre. Each passing day had given him greater anxiety about the boy becoming bored, deciding that it had been a nice little adventure while it lasted but that the thrill of the forbidden was over. To know that he'd had such an effect on Squall was a rather nice ego booster, especially since he hadn't been anything but his usual klutzy self.

Squall's hands blindly unbuttoned Laguna's shirt, finding his progress was slowed as he kept forgetting what he was supposed to be doing. As his raven-haired partner impatiently pulled back and tore the damp garb off, he reached out and raked his fingers across the man's chest. It was smooth tanned skin, more tanned near the neck. Dark hairs trailed from the man's navel and down past the waist of black dress pants.

Laguna watched, enjoying the way delicate hands roved his form, loving how Squall seemed to find him sexy. He hadn't considered himself attractive since his days as a soldier, but Squall thought differently.

Coyly, Squall looked up from beneath low lids. Slowing his progress, he undid the button, giving a small tug to the material that wasn't baggy, but hugged the man's fit waist nicely.

Slowly, Squall pulled the zipper down, pointedly wetting his lips more than once. Once undone, he sensuously sat up, spreading his legs wider. Coming flush against Laguna's stomach, he began with soft kisses that soon turned into gentle nips. Swirling his tongue along the man's navel, he slid his hands down the back of the President's pants and gave an appreciative squeeze to firm buttocks.

Giving off a soft groan, Laguna pressed his hips forward, wanting to feel something against his hardening cock.

“Patience,” Squall murmured, giving a final nip to Laguna's abs. Sitting straighter, he slid his hands higher to massage knotted muscles, feeling with satisfaction that they were not nearly as tight since he'd first started sleeping with the man. One of these days, he'd give a deep tissue massage, when they had plenty of time to spend on it.

“Patience has never been something I've ever had,” Laguna declared, breaking Squall's hold and pushing the boy back down to the bed. The brunet's little act of doting pleasure had only served to arouse him to the point of having to hurry things up. He'd say Squall was in a similar state, the boy's erection rubbing between them.

With a small simper of agreement, Squall hitched his legs higher. “I want you inside me now,” he whispered breathily.

“What a coincidence,” Laguna replied, rocking to his haunches to maneuver out of his pants, taking his boxers with them. “I want to be inside of you. Do you think we can come to some sort of agreement?”

“Less talk,” Squall said. After realizing for the first time that they were in his room, he reached back behind the pillow, hoping it was still there. Much as he enjoyed hearing most of what Laguna had to say, the man sometimes talked too much. In time, he'd prove that actions spoke louder than words, especially in the bedroom.

Laguna reached out, taking the small plastic bottle of massage oil from Squall's hand. He was trying to become better at it each time, the first few times watching Squall prepare himself, then slowly taking over.

With amusement, Squall watched the concentrating President give pause as if remembering exactly how to do it. Laguna could be adorably cute at times.

“Flip over,” the older man ordered lightly.

Squall couldn't help but feel excited at whatever Laguna had in mind, knowing he'd done so many pleasurable things that had yet to be returned. The easygoing man seemed shy in that respect, not ready to try a hand at every form of pleasuring.

Once on all fours, Squall gave an expectant look over his shoulder, as if to ask if this is what the man wanted.

Laguna grinned at Squall's compliance, loving how the boy catered to his every whim. Caressing the smooth flesh of the SeeD's lithe back, he gave a light push, signaling for Squall to lean down lower.

With the brunet's lower half propped up for him, Laguna set the bottle of lubricant aside. Gently spreading pale cheeks, he didn't hesitate to lean closer and lave his tongue across the puckered entrance.

Squall arched wildly, his head tossing about the pillow as he tried to stifle a cry of pleasure. He certainly hadn't been expecting that.

Laguna was quite encouraged by the brunet's reaction. He teasingly ran his tongue across the entrance before probing it.

“Laguna!” Squall cried out, fiercely gripping the bedding beneath him.

“You like that?” the older man teased before pressing his tongue in again, going deeper.

“Oh Hyne!” the brunet called out once more. He'd never experienced it for himself and he couldn't begin to wonder why it felt so good.

In torturous delight, Laguna continued his ministrations. However, it wasn't long before he felt as if he'd come from hearing the brunet's voice cry out.

Regretfully, Laguna reached for the discarded bottle and flipped it open. As much as he wanted to please Squall, the brunet's sweet voice was shooting straight to his groin and he wouldn't be able to last very long if it kept up.

With a soft sigh, Squall relaxed. His member was leaking precum already, the pearly essence beading at the head as cue that their debauchery should be sped up. However, his relaxation was short lived as a slippery finger pushed inside of him.

Laguna quickly added a second finger, scissoring the tight opening gently. By the time he was thrusting four fingers into that gripping heat, he felt ready to burst. Squall seemed to be in a similar state of need.

“Turn back over,” Laguna ordered huskily, wanting to watch Squall's face as it contorted in ecstasy.

“Please,” Squall panted. He was already writhing, needing to have the President's pulsing cock filling him with painful bliss.

With demanding roughness, Laguna flipped the boy around. “I want to see your beautiful face as I fuck you,” the older man explained, knowing he'd be blushing furiously at saying such a thing had he not known Squall had an ear for such words and a body made for being handled forcefully.

“Hyne, fuck me,” Squall urged as he drew his legs up, ready to beg if only to have Laguna pounding into him.

With a groan, Laguna coated his length in the oil before slowly pushing the mushroomed head of his thick cock inside the brunet's tight opening.

Squall bit his lip, falling silent as he finally received what he wanted. With sweet surrender, he allowed Laguna to bind his wrists above his head, held in place with one of the man's strong hands.

In one hard thrust, Laguna sank into the sinful depths of his son's body. The boy's voice was like music as it cried out in pain. The notes would soon change to a sweeter melody of utter ecstasy. He'd wring each quiet simper, every incoherent cry, and every cock twitching scream of his name from Squall's elegant throat.

With spine tingling anticipation, Squall savored the feel of being split with searing heat, feeling the initial pain recede slowly. It was the sort of pain that wasn't unwanted, because it wasn't intentional and never more than he could handle. He knew what was coming when Laguna gave a squeeze to his wrists.

Taking a deep breath and releasing it, he relaxed his muscles. Arching, he felt the firm grip on his wrists.

“Squall, look at me,” Laguna urged, wanting to see those stormy eyes while he made love to the younger man.

Having had his eyes closed, trying to feel every subtle trill of pleasure shoot through his body, Squall opened his eyes. A different sort of trilling pleasure ran through his entire body as he stared up into hazel green eyes.

The room was dim, the storm outside heightening to a whole knew level. Lightening flashed and thunder clapped loudly only seconds after. Yet, all other elements didn't even register.

The bed was soft and inviting for a night's sleep. The air was chilly for an exposed body, though not for two bodies having sex. The temperatures were monitored precisely within the estate, lower at night within private quarters to make curling under the bedcovers all the more enjoyable. The rain outside was pouring in heavy torrents, chinking against the clear glass pane, drizzling down and blurring any view.

Squall would later realize that he didn't need Guardian Force to forget. He had Laguna.

Within that room of the President's enormous estate, upon that bed, Squall felt and saw nothing else but the man above him. The former soldier's caring gaze, the affection and love unsurpassed by the lust even at such a moment, mesmerized him.

Laguna's presence washed over Squall with a feeling of clean love, something that he could trust and accept. He felt like a naïve child again, always willing to try something again even if it hurt him the first ten times before. He'd once tried to look to Cid as his father, searching for the Headmaster's love, and it had lead him to being sent off for greater profits of giving Dollet's governor blowjobs.

“Hey,” Laguna whispered softly, almost cooing. He brought his free hand up to gently stroke Squall's cheek. “I didn't hurt you, did I?”

“No,” Squall answered honestly, not certain why the older man seemed especially concerned this time around. It was another moment before he felt the warm wetness against his cheek, Laguna's thumb wiping away tears he hadn't known he'd shed.

“If you want to stop, it's okay.” Much as the idea of stopping made Laguna want to begin thrusting before the brunet could tell him to pull out, he didn't think he was capable of forcing himself on Squall.

Squall's brows drew together. The meaning of Laguna's words was greater than the President could possibly know. To submit and surrender himself so completely, and to still have the older man giving him a wonderful sense of control was more than anyone had ever done for him.

He tried to move his arms, struggling against Laguna's hold. Immediately, when it became apparent he wanted his wrists freed, they were released. Nothing was against his wishes, a sort of security he'd never experienced prior to this quirky man.

Squall wrapped his arms around Laguna's neck, drawing the man closer as he held on. He felt that the raven haired President was momentarily stunned, a certain tenseness that meant the older man wasn't sure if he was giving the go ahead or calling it to an end.

As soothing hands ran up and down Squall's sides, returning the gentle hug, the brunet said, “Move.”

Bowing his head against the smaller young man's shoulder, Laguna pulled out and thrust back in. As proud as he was of the successful person his son had grown up to be, he'd always felt remorse over leaving the boy behind. Yet now, as he gave shallow thrusts in and out of that tight entrance, he was actually glad he hadn't raised the boy as his son. If he'd known Squall as his son before he'd known him as the Commander, he doubt he'd ever overcome the barrier of their blood relation.

The truth of what they were to each other wasn't the only contingency to be had with the relationship. If the young man wasn't always whispering how sexy he looked, he doubt he'd be able to forget that he was nearly three times his lover's age.

As Laguna rocked in and out of him, Squall sucked on the man's neck, kissing along the shoulder and nipping each time his prostate gland was stimulated.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” Laguna declared, drawing out farther and pushing in harder.

“Ahhn,” Squall moaned softly, feeling the man's large cock pushing deeply inside. Laguna had to have known how mutual the feeling was, that the man made him feel things he'd never felt before.

Laguna moved his left arm away, sliding it down Squall's bare body, groping every inch in reach. He settled his lecherous hand behind the brunet's knee, hitching the leg higher as he continually increased the pace of his thrusts.

The closeness of their upper bodies created enough friction to satisfy Squall's leaking member. Between Laguna thrusting into him and the man's stomach rubbing against his penis, he felt himself quickly rising to release.

“I'm close,” Squall said while tossing his head back and bucking against the President.

Laguna was glad to hear that, being close himself and not certain he could hold out much longer. Picking the pace up, he began to mercilessly pound into lovely young man. It was so tight, a succulent pleasure he'd never get over.

The harsh slaps of their skin only served to intensify the experience, the erotic noise joining their panting breaths and cries of pleasure. Laguna imagined that had the bed been any less expensive, it would have been creaking and rocking in protest, quite possibly breaking under the intense strain they placed it under.

“Laguna,” Squall whimpered, tensing up as his orgasm came. It started deep, his cock twitching before spurting ribbons of cum.

Laguna grunted his acknowledgment, slamming into that tight body over and over. The already impossibly tight muscles clamped sporadically around his thrusting member, demanding that he come. As his balls clenched up and his organ jerked, he continued to pound into the boy.

Straightening up a bit, he threw his head back as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through him. He filled Squall with his hot seed, copious amounts verifying just how unbelievably good it felt. He tensed as he spent himself, a final thrust pushing his cock deeply inside of Squall.

Cum marked each of their conquests, covering both their stomachs and leaking out of the brunet's tight opening.

“Squall,” the Estharian muttered before he collapsed atop the younger man. As gentle fingers attempted to stroke his hair, carefully combing the damp and tangled strands, he gave soft kisses to any bit of flesh he could touch. Along the SeeD's shoulder, neck, and jaw, he simply pressed his lips in butterfly kisses. Without really thinking, he hummed in encouragement of those delicate fingers. “My little prince,” he murmured lazily, his mind drifting the same as his sated body.

Jostling chuckles moved Squall's chest. Conceding to the cuteness of the nickname, he hoped Laguna could come up with something a bit more manly. “Does that make you my princess?” he asked with sarcasm.

“Huh?” Laguna asked taken aback.

More chuckling followed. Squall watched as the older man blinked in confusion, a face he saw quite often. When seeing it in Ellone's dreams, he'd been annoyed, but now he loved it.

Once Laguna understood, he gave mock laughter, realizing the brunet was amused at his expense. “I'm your knight in shining armor,” he asserted, giving a nudging tickle to the brunet's ribs. As Squall squirmed at the attack, he continued until he had the boy laughing outright, a sound he revered above all.

When Laguna stopped and Squall settled down again, the younger man stared into hazel green eyes for a solemn moment. “I don't need a knight in my servitude,” he said evenly in thought, judging by his impassive tone.

Dipping down, Laguna captured Squall's lips. “Then I'll be your king.” He was beginning to understand Squall's reluctance for leadership, preferring to stand off alone than to order others around. “You're my Little Prince,” he murmured once again, this time thinking about the title before saying it. He doubted the nick name would stick, but he could whisper it silently.

Squall sighed. “I suppose there are worse pet names,” he conceded. With a small smile, he added, “My King.”

Laguna gave a soft grunt of approval. “Say it again,” he urged.

“No,” Squall shot down.

“Stubborn Little Prince,” the President called before rolling off the boy. “We both need a shower,” he said, extending his hand out as he stood up. “Your king commands it,” he added with a grin.

One shower and second round of sex later, the pair settled down beneath the plush bedding. The soft warmth of cotton flannel pants adorned them both, due to a demure sense of modesty within Laguna. The President preferred not to sleep completely nude.

Squall furled against the older man, warmly accepted by open arms.

TBC…