Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Living with Heart ❯ Living with Heart ( Chapter 13 )

Living with Heart

Act XII

With Seifer's return to Balamb Garden as a newly reinstated knight, chaos broke out. General Caraway was as equally furious as Headmaster Kramer.

It didn't matter that Rinoa pleaded Seifer and Squall's case, explaining that it just wasn't working out between her and the former Commander. It was all about politics.

Squall Leonhart was the preferred suitor because he was obedient and the worlds' number one sweetheart despite a rather socially inept and icy nature. Squall was the son of the President of Esthar. Rumors of a trade agreement between Esthar and Timber were still just rumors, which meant it was now a dash to secure favor with President Loire.

Cid had at least given Squall the benefit of the doubt, holding off on his angry tirade until after he contacted the boy. However, when his attempts to reach the young SeeD were unsuccessful, his anger began to boil over.

This was the first time Squall had shown disobedience. At first it had just been not checking in daily or sending the finished compilation of strategic reports. Then the General's daughter returned with fawning adoration for Seifer Almasy as her new knight. Now, he had no idea where the relationship between father and son stood and he couldn't get a hold of the young man.

Balamb Garden's Headmaster sat behind his desk, staring off into the cloudy grey sky outside.

“Headmaster Kramer,” came the familiar voice of his secretary over the intercom speaker on his desk.

Swiveling around in his chair, Cid Kramer reached out and pressed the small red button to respond. “Yes,” he spoke gruffly.

The secretary's voice spoke with a hesitancy that set the Headmaster on edge. “There is an urgent notice here from Esthar, I thought you should know.”

“Bring it in,” Cid demanded. He was filled with anxiousness, not certain if it would be good of bad.

Darkening slate blue eyes stared for a long moment at the official courier dressed in long white robes.

The messenger saluted to the Headmaster, youthful features impassive the entire time. Sweeping further into the room, the young woman stood in place before the Headmaster's desk. Rigidly, she held out the package.

Jaw clenched, Cid stood and accepted the thick manila envelope. He almost quirked a brow at the manner of traditional mail, wondering if Esthar didn't have a better way with such advanced technology.

“Sir,” the courier said with a salute. “I'm to oversee the signing of the contents of that envelope. I have no prior knowledge of its contents. I'm ordered to wait as long as it takes.”

Affronted, Cid stared sternly for several moments. There were scarce papers on his desk, just a few reports off to the side that had been taken care of in less than an hour when he'd first arrived at the office that morning.

Reaching for a letter opener, he smoothly sheered the top open and peered inside. His frown deepened upon seeing the thick stack of papers within. Dumping the contents onto his desk, a small disk tumbled out as well.

Not bothering to read anything, he glanced at the young woman standing before his desk. “What is this?” he questioned with a gesturing hand to the pile of papers and small cd.

“Sir.” The messenger bristled in the thick white robes. “I am not privy to the subject matter of any deliveries. If you do not have a Cerebrum X40, then I have a compact signature device on hand that will serve to read the disk and record your signature.”

“What in Hyne's name are you on about?” Cid grumbled, angrily grabbing the papers and glancing at them.

His eyes scanned the stream of numbers centered on the first page, not unlike the reports filed for SeeD contracts. The only difference was the Estharian insignia in the top right corner, an intricate pattern of foreign symbols held within a crescent that was printed downward as if in a frown.

Flipping to the next page, his eyes scanned the text. Features drawing into slight alarm, his eyes narrowed and started to reread from the top with greater focus. Dropping the report, he fumbled to call his secretary in, his finger missing the intercom button the first try.

“Get me Commander Yashime and instructor Trepe, have them here immediately.”

As Xu and Quistis arrived together, conveniently having been together on their lunch hour, Cid was already pacing his office with the pack of papers clenched in his hands.

“Cid,” Xu addressed informally, having known the man for many years now. “Is something the matter?”

Quistis saluted. “Headmaster,” she greeted, always one for formalities regardless of knowing the older man just as intimately as Xu.

The tall blonde instructor stepped further in, the raven haired Commander following beside her.

“Yes,” Cid said firmly. “We have a problem. Quistis, I want you to go to Esthar this very night. I want Squall back here before I eat my breakfast tomorrow.”

“Yes sir,” Quistis agreed right away. “May I ask what this is about?”

“President Loire is filing for custody of Squall,” Cid said solemnly.

Adjusting her wire rimmed glasses, Quistis glanced at the messenger seated calmly in the single wooden chair before the Headmaster's desk. The white robes were indicative of an official courier. The crescent moon emblem at the left breast of the garb meant this young woman was one of President Loire's personal messengers.

Estharian tradition mandated the use of hand delivered documents for all official matters.

Tucking a tendril of long blonde hair behind her ear, Quistis tore her gaze from the brown haired messenger girl and regarded the Headmaster with confused concern. The last time she'd pried into Squall's affairs in Esthar, Cid had scolded her. Now, she found she had a legitimate excuse to ask questions about her former Commander.

“Is it a problem? Laguna Loire is Squall's father, is he not?” Quistis asked calmly, confused at what was so dire that required her immediate deployment to retrieve Squall.

“I am Squall's legal guardian until he is eighteen,” Cid snapped. Reining his emotions in, he stood straighter and set the document in hand down. Tugging on the hem of his vest, he straightened that as well. “Xu, I need your eyes. You're trained in legal matters. I need you to read this and tell me exactly what is being asked. Then, I want you to find someway to negate it.”

At the curious gazes from both Commander and Head Instructor, Cid cleared his throat. “I will not explain myself. I am to remain Squall's guardian, is that clear?”

Uncertainly, both women gave curt nods.

“Quistis, I want him back here by tomorrow, no excuses.”

Hiding her frown, Quistis nodded in compliance. Saluting one final time, she turned on foot and stalked away. She'd enlist Selphie's help to get her to Esthar as soon as possible, the use of Ragnarok being imperative to save time.

Morning in Esthar was always pleasant for Laguna when it involved waking to have the sleeping brunet in his arms. As his breathing changed, his body awoke and temperature increased.

Finding it a little too warm under the thick covers of his large bed, he remained as he was to further enjoy the feel of Squall's warm body against his own.

Lazily, hazel green eyes blinked and the cogs began to spin within the President's head. Recalling what day it was, he groaned in frustration.

He needed to return to the palace for the day, unable to continue his sabbatical agenda that he'd been on for the past few weeks. Despite having the help of Kiros and Ward, he usually worked at least ten or twelve hours a day. Being President was an around the clock job that he took very seriously, but had taken leave from to be with his son.

Considering he wasn't going to be around forever, it was imperative to establish a government that could run smoothly without him, which he was proud to find was the case during his time away.

As the smaller young man stirred in his arms, Laguna's focus remained solely on Squall. Running his hand through mussed chestnut strands of hair, he leaned close to gently press his lips against the boy's temple.

“Morning,” he whispered softly, not wanting to wake Squall any sooner than that lithe body wanted to be woken.

Arching languidly, Squall gave a faint smile, relishing the warmth and comfort that surrounded him. Humming quietly in agreement, Squall let his actions speak for himself.

Turning slightly, the brunet furled closer and tucked his head beneath the older man's chin. Nuzzling the man's collar, he sighed as his body wallowed in the feel of their bare skin touching. He was torn between wanting to flop back down and fall asleep again and getting up.

Chuckling lightly, Laguna continued to stroke the other's soft hair. “There is something I should tell you,” he said, slightly wary of the reaction he'd receive.

“I know,” Squall mumbled. Returning the intimate gesture, he grasp at long raven strands of hair, finding the absent curling of hair around his fingers was almost hypnotic.

“You know?” Laguna questioned in surprised awe, seeming to believe that the young man could know despite his secrecy on the matter.

“It's about what you and Kiros discussed yesterday. I imagine it has to do with Cid also.”

Finding the play of hair a little boring, Squall trailed his fingers along the older man's chest, grazing a nipple as he traced odd patterns. It had been two days since Laguna had last done anything with him, requesting the previous night to simply lie together once again.

Though Squall wasn't necessarily overly sexually charged, he was seventeen and finding himself admittedly in love. Those factors added together meant that his already present attraction to the older man raged when they were in the same room. He wanted touch and kiss, to grope and fondle every chance they had.

Squall was beginning to wonder if Laguna was turned off by him now that his past was made common knowledge.

The night before, he'd assured with slight embarrassment that he was clean of any sort of diseases carried through sexual encounters, which the President had become terribly flustered over and pleaded that he understand it wasn't a matter of wanting him sexually.

However, the assurance that Laguna still wanted to have sex with him meant that he was even more impatient for it. He would become like a cat in heat if Laguna didn't fuck him hard that very morning.

Initiating the first move, Squall pressed his lips against the raven-haired man's neck, licking and sucking at the same spot until he'd made a sufficiently noticeable mark.

Gulping, Laguna fought the rising heat in his loins. He felt the consuming urge to ravish the younger man, but he resisted. He felt an uncertainty about it, waiting for a few days to pass without sex to prove that he was not like the others Squall had been with.

Finding that soft lips were on a mission to arouse him, the President blurted out, “I'm going to adopt you.”

This brought a halt to Squall's laving tongue, having just begun to tease a hardening nipple. Stormy blue eyes looked up, angled as his head stayed in place. “What?” the brunet questioned.

“So that Cid Kramer can't make you return,” Laguna assured, pleading his case as though becoming Squall's guardian by law was the worst offense in the world.

Squall didn't respond. It was a logical step, one that he should have seen coming. However, he felt uncertainty surrounding the matter. “Will this change us?” the brunet asked softly, wondering whether Laguna would suddenly decide fatherhood was better than forbidden love.

“No,” Laguna asserted, finding that he assured himself as well. Drawing Squall up to lay beside him once more, he kissed pout lips gently.

Pushing for more, Squall took over when Laguna seemed inclined to keeping the kiss light. Firmly pressing their lips together, he shifted to lean over the older man. Nipping at a bottom lip, he raked his short nails across the man's chest, tweaking that pert nub he'd only begun to tease. At the resultant gasp, he slipped his tongue into the President's mouth.

Tasting only for moment, Squall drew back. Throwing a leg over Laguna's thigh, he straddled the man before leaning down to continue.

Laguna could tell that Squall was being rather insistent, ignoring his reluctant signals and going straight for the carnal pleasures anyway.

“I'm an old man,” Laguna tried in excuse, hands gently fondling the boy as he tried to subtly put space between them. “I need coffee before anything else.”

“You don't,” Squall refuted, pointedly rubbing his hardening bulge against the President's groin. The exulting groan was proof of his argument. Continuing to gyrate downward, he felt reassured by how fast the man's length hardened for him.

Laguna considered the consequence that would more than likely follow his actions to become Squall's legal guardian. Cid would fight it, the chance of everything falling apart too great a risk. Someone from Garden would be sent and word would leak, which meant that calculating eyes would be turned on them.

Sex with his son would be out of the question, something Kiros had alluded to the previous day, but that he hadn't really given serious consideration.

“Gods,” Laguna hissed as the boy seemed filled with sexual energy even after just waking up. He wasn't tired or not in the mood, just wondering if there would come a point when his age did effect his appetite.

Squall rocked gently, not wanting to create too much stimulation all at once. He left the President's mouth to explore lower reaches. Nipping and kissing along the man's stubble ridden jaw, he trailed along an exposed neck and chest.

Closing his eyes, Laguna relished the feel of unabashed hands roaming his body and those soft lips daring to touch every bit of his flesh. Realizing he couldn't last any longer, he impressed, “You don't have to do this.”

It took a moment for the full meaning behind Laguna's words to set in. When Squall finally absorbed it all, he wound his frantic actions down and sat up straight. Still straddling the older man, he stared for along moment into hazel green eyes.

While the erection the President sported indicated that his touch was very much wanted, Squall couldn't help but remember that any amount of fondling would eventually have an effect.

“If this isn't what you want, just say so,” the brunet said, preferring blunt words with sharp edges to beating around the bush and procrastinating.

“No,” Laguna whispered. “No, no.” He reached out and ran his hands up and down bare arms, unable to not focus on the feel of hard muscles under soft skin while he was so utterly horny. “I love you, and I love this.”

The slight embarrassed flush that came to the longhaired man's cheeks caused Squall to give a small smile. He stared at the handsome man, raven hair splayed on the pillow beneath. The President would forever be shy of being so open about the more sexual desires that coursed through every person.

Squall was by no means open with any of his emotions, but he treated every feeling equally. He was no more discrete about feeling unusually giddy as he was about having a raging hard on. However, Laguna seemed to express every emotion under the sun without hesitancy except for physical desire.

“You want to have sex with me,” Squall said with more clarity, already feeling relieved from his momentary doubt.

“Hyne yes,” Laguna said in a heavy sigh. If his arousal that tented his baggy flannel pajamas wasn't enough to poke the truth into the boy, then the mounting tension from his desperate restraint would be.

“Then why hold back?” the brunet followed up.

Hesitating for a few moments longer, Laguna found his weak hold failing. “Because I'm not like them. I care about you, with or without the sex.”

Squall couldn't help but sigh, refraining from rolling his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. If that was what the man was worried about, then he could have settled this in the beginning before he'd spent two repeated nights of cuddling without fucking. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy being held, but good sex with someone he was both attracted to and had affection for was rare, which meant his body ached for it.

“Can we do this with the sex?” Leaning down, Squall kissed Laguna again. With prospect of sating rutting on the horizon, he gave a small taunt. “You might look young, but who knows how much longer we can do this.”

Laguna blinked, not certain he'd heard right. Squall had made a joke, a funny one too. He wasn't sure if he should laugh or check for a fever. Soft chuckling escaped him before he could surmise an answer.

“Alright then,” the President said, “But tell me it's different. Tell me, I'm different than them and that you feel differently. Tell me what we have is real, that you love me.”

Squall stared solemnly into earnest greenish eyes. The older man was so insecure at times, but he could hardly lay blame. He was insecure about his own feelings, so who was he to expect the President to have complete confidence in him?

“I've never felt this way before,” Squall whispered, easily complying with the man's request. “You annoyed me at first, but now I like all your clumsy moments and inability to keep anything hidden.”

Bristling indignantly, Laguna tried to draw himself up straight, but found it didn't work while lying down.

“You're cute, and it pains me to admit it.”

Grumbling, Laguna commented wryly, “You're a real charmer.”

Squall shook his head lightly, not refuting the man's words, but gesturing that he had more to add. He never claimed to be good with words or capable of telling someone exactly what they wanted to hear while also speaking the truth. Laguna wanted to know how he felt, not hear some made up bullshit.

“I think I love you,” the brunet said after a moment, honestly admitting that he wasn't sure he was that far along in the relationship. “I care about you and want to be with you. I've chosen to leave the only life I've ever known behind for you.” Despite the fact that it was a life most would run away from, it was still a life that he hadn't easily let go of.

“But, you're happy?” Laguna pressed. Hearing all that Squall had done for him only made him more insecure, needing to know that it was good for both of them.

“…” Squall stared, having ended his moment of loquacious ranting and whispered sweet nothings already.

“Right,” Laguna said as if chastising himself. “Of course you are.”

“Can we have sex now?” the brunet asked seriously.

Laguna almost laughed, but found his predicament of having a throbbing erection suddenly too distracting. His time of slow paced brooding over the matter of what their relationship was based on was halted by the fact that they probably couldn't share so much as a kiss until after the brunet's birthday.

Whether it was their last free morning together or last day, Laguna's plans had changed. Still, he'd been stubborn in his resolve to prove it was more than just sex. However, it seemed Squall had never doubted the fact, making him feel slightly foolish for doing so.

Flipping their forms over, Laguna served the brunet a spoonful of his own bittersweet medicine. He was now in control and working to drive the boy into an aroused frenzy.

Squall was more than ready, his hands coated with the lubricant before his pants were discarded completely. Impatiently, he prepared himself, taking over for the sake of saving time.

Laguna would have jibed the boy for being so rushed, perhaps commenting on how horny teenagers were, but he his cock was already leaking precum so he wasn't one to talk.

As Squall scissored his opening, he purposely avoided all sensitive regions. Ready as he was, rubbing his prostate gland might have caused an early end to their fun.

Cutting the suddenly tedious preparation short, Squall turned over onto his knees. “I'm ready,” he muttered.

“Squall,” Laguna whispered huskily, his voice almost not working after remaining silent and avidly watching the whole time. Coating his length in the mild scented oil, he gave a firm stroke as his will power caved. Positioning his head at the boy's puckered entrance, he swallowed thickly before pointing out, “You're not ready. It's going to hurt.”

“I like a little pain,” Squall said in exasperation. Flattening his chest to the bed, he proffered himself for the President's taking.

Not exactly needing any coaxing in the first place, Laguna slowly slid into that gripping heat. Tossing his head back, he squeezed slim hips in an effort to keep himself from slamming in all the way.

“So tight,” the older man ground out. Clenching his teeth, he attempted to think about the least arousing things so that he wouldn't come on the spot.

While Squall had taken a bit of the sheet into his mouth to keep from making any noise, be it a moan or a whimper of pain, he rocked back to push the man deeper. The pain was all the same, but he was after the pleasure and wanted it sooner than later.

Falling a few inches short of being buried to the hilt, Laguna rubbed gentle circles along a pale back. “Are you okay?” he questioned gently.

Squall gave a nod, unable to articulate an answer and make it sound convincing.

“I'm going to move,” Laguna announced.

Slowly, Laguna pulled out and pushed back in. Eyes rolling back, his lids fluttered closed and a groan erupted from his throat. Repeating the action, he sounded a garbled mixture of Hyne and Squall's name, unable to determine who he should be crying out to at the moment.

Shallow thrusts eventually finished the stretching Squall had needed, though the brunet still felt more pain that usual. Shallow turned to deep, as the President drew out further and rocked back in.

Squall braced himself against the headboard as Laguna carried on with increasing passion, crashing into him with rough thrusts. Each violent push that buried the large cock deeper inside of him sent spikes of pleasure through his body. The pleasure soon spiked so frequently that he doubted a single thrust missed raking his prostate gland at just the right angle.

The mind numbing pleasure became too much as Squall cried out the President's name and ejaculated spurting ribbons of cum without any further stimulation other than the cock striking him from deep within.

Laguna soon followed, buried as deep as his cock could go, driven all the way into that searing heat. His member jerked in release before spilling warm seed inside that lithe body.

Falling limp, Laguna wound down from his quick end with a slow lethargy of euphoria. Pulling out, he ignored the mess they'd made and drew the young man's body to himself. Kissing a damp brow, he held the brunet until both their breathing had calmed.

“I'm sorry, I was rough,” the President said.

Quietly Squall responded, already half asleep again, “That's what happens when you hold back.”

Given the nature of Squall's comment, Laguna decided to put off informing the former Commander of the exact expectations they'd need to uphold for the next several weeks. He honestly didn't know if he could go more than a few days without screwing the brunet. Given the pent up nature of his need after two days, he feared he might fuck Squall raw after the boy finally turned eighteen.

TBC…