Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Need for Requital ❯ Need for Requital ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

 

Warning: M/M/M, lemon, PWP. The threesome is between Seifer+Irvine/Squall. Intended for mature audiences only, please do not read if you are underage.

 

Final Fantasy VIII

Need for Requital

 

Squall had wandered to Irvine's dorm room without any consideration for the time or even why he was calling upon the sharp shooting cowboy in the first place. It was well past midnight and he had no reason to believe the gunman would be awake. He wasn't certain if he was seeking company or a place to sleep. Generally preferring to sulk in solitude, he assumed he was just looking for a bed or floor to crash on without stirring up trouble or questions.

 

Knocking gently, Squall suddenly realized he shouldn't be involving others in his personal problems. Though Seifer could be an intolerable jerk at times, he had never been given any reason to expect more from the man. Sex between them was just sex. It was rough and highly enjoyable, but there was no deeper meaning beyond physical gratification. Realizing the inappropriateness of the situation, he decided to return to his dorm even if Seifer were still there. Too late in his decision, his hasty departure was interrupted.

 

With the near inaudible hiss of the automated door, Squall was greeted with a groggy, half dressed gunman. One of the few times he had seen auburn hair unbound, he was surprised at the inexplicable urge to run his fingers through it.

 

“Squall?” Irvine intoned, his surprise evident.

 

“…” Focusing less on the bare torso of his friend, Squall reminded himself why he was there.

 

Clearing his throat, Irvine waved the commander inside. “What's up?” he drawled, eyes raking up and down the brunet's form while he could do so unobserved. Those battle durable leather pants were the most cock teasing garments he had ever seen. The commander's ass was a certifiable cock tease without taut leather hugging every supple inch.

 

“Can I stay here tonight?” Squall asked quietly, eyes scanning the gunman's room. Relatively clean, the various porn magazines sticking out from beneath the bed were likely the tip of the iceberg for everything else crammed under there.

 

Swallowing thickly, Irvine calmed his libido and reminded himself that the commander was strictly off limits, or at least spoken for by Seifer. His unrequited feelings for the reticent brunet had surpassed admiration and respect long ago, becoming something far more perverse when he couldn't be in the same vicinity without mentally stripping that lithe body of clothing.

 

Recalling the outstanding question, Irvine wasn't as quick to agree, as he would have been in one of his wishful phantasms. In fact, many of his lewd fantasies had involved a distraught commander coming to him to stay for the night and for whatever reason Squall was usually wearing a standard garden towel which was little more than a loin cloth. His current situation was a far cry from daydreams that didn't result in serious consequences. He feared for the safety of his friendship, doubting his ability to control himself when given such a prime opportunity.

 

When the gunman didn't reply right away Squall knew he had made a mistake. “Sorry,” he mumbled, turning for the door. “I shouldn't have come.”

 

Blocking the commander's exit before he could think twice of it, Irvine quickly stepped in front of the door. “Whoa there darlin',” he drawled, playing it off easily enough. “I'm still half asleep,” he excused. Quirking a lopsided smile, he informed, “You're welcome to stay the night.”

 

Nodding faintly, Squall submitted to the flow of the situation, choosing to simply stay the night even if he should have returned to his own dorm. Having already woken the gunman, he should at least make his imposition worthwhile.

 

Silently cursing his self made predicament, Irvine diverted half his attention with making accommodations for the commander. “Should I take the floor or are you okay with sleeping together?”

 

Squall shivered subtly, misconstruing the gunman's words in the worst of ways. Having been with Seifer since the blond boy had hit puberty and discovered the wonders of sex by practicing on him, his choice in partners had been limited by the ex-knight's possessive nature. Seifer was no doting boyfriend and he was steadily discovering that he needed more than just sex. While he hadn't come to Irvine's dorm room under the pretense of finding a new boyfriend, the idea that the resident playboy would be an adventurous change of pace settled firmly in his mind.

 

“If you don't mind, we can share,” Squall answered. Biting his lip for a moment, he debated the complications that would arise if he made a move on Irvine. He had Selphie to think about, not to mention an enraged ex-knight. There was also the more than likely scenario involving the gunman not being the least bit interested.

 

In a short few minutes, Irvine found himself staring resolutely at the wall. Lying in bed, he waited for the commander to change into borrowed clothes and join him. It took every ounce of his self-control not to peek when he was eighty percent certain no form of undergarment could possibly be worn beneath those form fitting leather pants. What he wouldn't give for a brief glimpse of Squall's body laid bare. He wanted to feel supple and toned flesh with his hands, but could always settle for raking his eyes over every inch.

 

Thoughts delving into the fantastically arousing scenarios he normally envisioned while jerking off, Irvine was shocked back to reality at the jostling of the mattress. He felt a wave of panic overcome him; aware of just how incapable he was when it came to keeping his thoughts clean and hands to himself. If he actually managed to make it through the night without molesting the commander, he was certain to become erect at some point, which wouldn't be fun to explain.

 

Lying beside the gunman quietly, Squall stared at the ceiling. The air felt stifling, not at all as though he were just bunking with a friend for the night. “Irvine,” he whispered, afraid to break the tension pressing in on all sides.

 

“Yeah?” Irvine returned, voice husky despite his attempts to sound as little aroused as possible.

 

Squall was suddenly overcome with apprehension, a dark feeling that almost felt like shame for how easily his eyes wandered when he had just been fighting with Seifer over being together for more than sex. “Do you sleep with men?” he questioned evenly. Though he had only ever seen the gunman with women, he couldn't help but feel like the tension was overtly sexual and it wasn't coming from just him.

 

“Are you here because you fought with Seifer?” Irvine returned in question, a knot forming in his stomach as the hopeful part of him began interpreting signals.

 

Squall relied on the gunman's sharp sense to answer the obvious question. Slightly distressed over the prospect of breaking up with Seifer, he felt as though it were something that had been on the horizon for a long time, the actual dawning finally encroaching. Turning on his side, he found himself facing waves of auburn hair, a faint fragrance of shampoo reaching him. “Where's Selphie?” he asked, knowing the separation of male and female dorms did little to keep couples apart.

 

Irvine studied the blank wall, as though it would give him the answers he sought. Whether it was his own wishful thinking or the cover of night that gave him confidence, he slowly rolled over to face his commander. “We broke up,” he informed, adding, “I'm obsessed with someone else.” With his implication clear, he wondered if the commander would choose to ignore his feelings.

 

Licking his lips, Squall wavered with indecision. There would be no going back if he chose to press forward. Too close for comfort, he found their faces were mere inches apart. Staring uncertainly into violet blue eyes, he dared to move in slowly. Hesitating at the last second, his mind worked frantically to think of some excuse.

 

Holding his breath in anticipation, Irvine lost his patience and finished what the brunet had started. Kissing the commander's lips, he felt the softly pliant flesh tentatively. With every single expectation upheld, he sighed softly before pressing more firmly. Though he had honed his kissing techniques, he found himself thinking less about how to make it a good kiss and more about tasting the man's mouth. As a rule, he was never a selfish lover, but he couldn't help it just this once.

 

Thinking their first kiss was at an end, Squall began to pull back, needing to assess the situation openly before going any further. His progress was stopped when the gunman simply followed him, pushing him onto his back and kissing him harder. The exchange became wet when a tongue sought entrance into his mouth, but the gunman retreated abruptly.

 

Breaking away, Irvine murmured, “Is this okay?” He was aware that he had pushed a bit far all at once.

 

Nodding, Squall parted his lips and flicked his tongue out to slide against the gunman's lips. It was more than okay. He was kissing someone who wasn't Seifer and it felt thrilling. The act of kissing itself felt like something else entirely. The way Irvine's tongue coiled around his own, deftly twining in a way that sent his senses reeling, it was exciting.

 

Growing hot, Irvine broke away briefly to cast the blanket aside. “Are you sure about this?” he questioned again.

 

“…” Conveying his feelings through his actions, Squall caressed his hand along the gunman's exposed chest. Trailing lower, he brashly groped the tenting arousal in loose pants.

 

Jolting at the unexpected move, Irvine stared at the surprisingly sexual commander. He hadn't pegged Squall as the type.

 

Reading the gunman's thoughts, Squall informed, “Even I enjoy sex.” Not showing his emotions didn't mean he didn't have them. He needed physical gratification just like any red-blooded male.

 

Smirking, Irvine returned, “I can tell.” Climbing atop the smaller man, he dipped low to capture soft lips once more.

 

The sudden pounding on the door was startling.

 

“Kinneas!” a baritone voice yelled. “I know he's in there, open up!”

 

Bitter contempt filled Irvine as his moment with the commander was ruined. With no confirmation that Squall had broken up with Seifer, he was indeed crossing the line. With anyone else, he wouldn't have felt such hurt over being some midnight paramour, but his infatuation with his childhood friend was genuine.

 

Angry, Squall climbed out from beneath the gunman and stormed to the door. Using the side panel, he opened the door and glared icily at the ex-knight. His night had finally started to take a turn for the better and the arrogant blond ruined it once again.

 

“Don't give me that look,” Seifer muttered, calming momentarily at the sight of his little lion. Stalking inside the small room, his mood darkened drastically as his perceptive eyes noticed a few odd details. With the commander ready for bed, it was odd that there was no makeshift bedding set up on the floor. Realizing his lover had been in bed with another man, he turned on the boy. “What the hell is this?” he bit out, towering over the brunet.

 

“…” Squall just glared.

 

Seifer reached a hand out, cupping the defiant boy's chin. Tilting the incorrigibly untamable lion's head up, he examined pout lips. Those terribly enticing lips belonged to him. Judging from the rouged color, it was obvious someone else had been using them.

 

“I'm staying here tonight,” Squall informed, crossing his arms defiantly and turning away from the blond's hand.

 

Gaze narrowing, Seifer decided a lesson needed to be taught. “Fine,” he said compliantly. “But not without supervision.” He would not allow Squall to be with other men, not without feeling pain.

 

Stormy blue eyes widened slightly, uncertain what the ex-knight had in mind.

 

“Kinneas, didn't anyone ever tell you not to touch another man's treasure without permission?” Seifer questioned, glaring at the gunman.

 

Unable to deny anything when his erection was so apparent, Irvine shot back, “Squall came to me.” He would agree to a death match if it meant a chance to take Squall for himself. He wouldn't be a possessive asshole that impaired the commander's happiness.

 

Staking his claim, Seifer regarded the pale commander with warning in his eyes. Grabbing a fistful of dark brown hair, he stooped to ravish kiss-bruised lips.

 

Angry still, Squall melted against the ex-knight's chest despite himself. The difference between Irvine and Seifer's kisses were like day and night. Seifer was violently rough and heatedly demanding, while Irvine had been seductively sensual and warmly inviting. He was weak to them both, succumbing to aching lust.

 

Irvine watched with jealousy, wishing he had the proper status to break them up. He wasn't Squall's boyfriend though, just some one-night stand that hadn't even happened.

 

Breaking away from the sweetly tasting mouth, Seifer glanced at the gunman with a gloating sparkle to his eyes. “Let's play cowboy,” he muttered. Feeling the commander's smaller form shutter against him, he whispered to the dazed lion, “We'll need your bed, lovely.”

 

Unable to hide his shock, Squall gasped softly. Glancing back at Irvine, he gazed at the gunman uncertainly. Though he didn't reveal his feelings either way, his body was already pulsing with excitement at the prospect of sleeping with both Irvine and Seifer at the same time. Having slept with no one else except for the ex-knight, his mind couldn't imagine how it would work.

 

 

--

 

“Too much,” Squall panted, fingers clawing at the gunman's chest. “Please,” he gasped, half begging Irvine to take it out.

 

“I don't think he can handle it,” Irvine said in concern, his aroused body not quite ready to pull out yet.

 

“You're free to pull out,” Seifer muttered. Tightening his grip on the brunet's spread buttocks, he thrust deeper inside the pained beauty's stretched entrance.

 

Crying out at the sharp pain accompanying the thrusting action, Squall lost sight of who was doing what. Clinging to Irvine frantically, his escape from the blond's thick intrusion was futile.

 

Eyes fluttering shut as the ex-knight's cock rubbed against his own, Irvine silently apologized to the distraught commander. Groaning as his decision was made, he hitched lean legs up high, hands gripping the back of bent knees.

 

“No,” Squall protested, knowing what came next. His instinct was to escape, to not even bother with working through the pain. He had experienced the feel of Seifer's organ splitting him countless times before, but he had never taken so much in at once. It was simply too much for him to handle, no matter how prepared he was.

 

“Sorry darlin',” Irvine soothed, torn between what his body was demanding and his wish to treat the commander with utmost gentleness.

 

Leaning back, Seifer brought the protesting lion against his chest. Stationed behind the boy, it was easier to lift the commander's lithe body up and drop it back down on his throbbing length. “Come on Kinneas,” he said, agonizing over how tight it would be once the cowboy was buried too.

 

Pressing forward, Irvine pushed inside the commander's body. As coherent thought fled his mind, he thrust all at once, unable to hold back.

 

Pinned between the two men, Squall cried out when he was suddenly filled with two pulsing lengths, the girth of which split him violently. Feeling faint, his body grew heavy as pained pleasure coursed through him. He imagined he could feel the blood pumping to each of the buried cocks, beating angrily as the heady arousal grew. If he concentrated on the dull throb that resembled a heartbeat, the pain faded a bit. Irvine and Seifer were inside him, joined in the most intimate of ways. It was a satisfying notion, but painful nonetheless.

 

Acting as the lead since the cowboy was in uncharted territory, Seifer decided when to begin moving. The general idea of remaining motionless while buried was to give Leonhart's anus time to stretch, but he doubted any length of time would ease the brutal intrusion. If he had any less respect for the stubborn lion, he wouldn't have continued. Starting slowly, almost tentatively, he eased out and rocked back in.

 

Hesitant once more, Irvine didn't mimic the blond right away. Waiting a bit longer, he gazed dolefully into stormy blue eyes, silently pleading that it was really all right to be doing such a thing. Glancing down, he found his eyes transfixed on the glistening tip of the commander's arousal, pearly threads of precum already beading at the slit. With confirmation that Squall was turned on by what was happening, he began to thrust in as Seifer pulled out.

 

Together, Irvine and Seifer found a rhythm that made their toes curl with satisfaction. Like pistons, their cocks rubbed against each other's while they sunk in and out of tight, clamping heat.

 

“Fuck,” Seifer cursed, hips lifting off the bed to pound the brunet from beneath.

 

Distracted for a moment by enticing lips, Irvine dipped to steal a kiss. Losing himself, he plundered his superior's mouth with an insatiable longing.

 

Spent of breath, Squall moaned loudly as the gunman's tongue filled his mouth. Sloppily, he tried to kiss the man back, but found himself too disoriented to do anything but accept the abundance of pleasure. He keened as Seifer increased the pace, Irvine quickly leaving his mouth and following suit. The thrusts became harder and more erratic and he didn't know if he could take much more.

 

“Come on Kinneas,” Seifer hissed, surging forward to change position. Calling their rhythm to a halt, he knelt on the bed, needing better leverage to fuck the commander harder. Hands splaying the brunet's buttocks, he spread the shapely cheeks more to give his cock better access.

 

Irvine went along, sorely in need of release and willing to do just about anything for it. Still holding the back of the commander's knees, he helped hold the brunet's body up for all their pleasure. Spreading fairly flexible limbs wider, he would probably be capable of burying himself to the hilt.

 

Catching his breath, Squall began to understand what the ex-knight was up to. “Seifer,” he called uncertainly, arm reaching back to hook around the older boy's neck. Registering little more than the heat surrounding him, he was unprepared for the violent onslaught the blond intended for him.

 

“He can take it cowboy, trust me,” Seifer assured, kissing the back of soft chocolate brown hair. “Don't hold back. Fuck him `til he cries.”

 

“Seifer,” Irvine began uneasily, catching sight of watery grey-blue eyes that didn't seem capable of staying open for any length of time. “You sure?” he questioned, hard pressed to even consider stopping at such a point. He had been drawn into the knight's pace, following the arrogant man's lead the entire time.

 

Smirking, Seifer bowed his head, his lips brushing over the dazed lion's ear. Sex was like a drug for Leonhart, rendering the younger man helpless with an insatiable need for base pleasure. “Show the cowboy how you feel,” he hissed in a warm puff of air. “If you want us both, show us how good you feel.”

 

Head falling back against a broad shoulder, Squall licked his lips. “Irvine,” he whispered gruffly. Held aloft rather awkwardly, he would become restless if he weren't fucked soon. Reaching out, he ran his hands along the gunman's lithely muscled back. Trailing his hands lower, he pulled the reluctant participant's hips closer, effectively driving the man's cock deeper inside himself.

 

“Squall,” Irvine exclaimed, taking the hint and thrusting more forcefully.

 

“Yes,” Squall encouraged, groaning when Seifer also began to rock in and out.

 

“He'll sing a sweet tune, it just takes a little force,” Seifer informed. “Fuck I'm close,” he bit out in agitation, wondering why the best sex never seemed to last very long.

 

“More,” Squall requested, hands groping the gunman's ass and urging the man deeper. Mouth agape to take in heated breaths, he moaned as both men thrust in at once. The pain was sharp and splitting still, but the feel of pulsing heat being driven deep inside of him was overwhelming.

 

“Come on baby,” Seifer urged, intent on driving his cock so deep that Leonhart would scream.

 

“Seifer!” Squall cried as the man thrust so hard he thought he would break into a million pieces. “Ahh, Seifer!” He was nearing a breaking point, his body unable to handle such intermingled signals of pain and pleasure.

 

“Squall,” Irvine called, delving in for another taste of the brunet's sweet mouth. He wanted his name to be cried out too. “Call my name,” he begged, needing to know that the commander recognized his presence. He was no less involved with Squall than Seifer was, at least for the moment.

 

“Hahn,” Squall couldn't quite form the right sound, panting and moaning instead of calling the gunman's name.

 

Stamina waning, Irvine felt his efforts taking a toll. Needing to finish it, he began thrusting furiously. Slamming into the pinned commander repeatedly, he drove his manhood as deep as possible.

 

“Irvine!” Squall cried, loving the gunman for what he was doing.

 

Jade green eyes narrowed, sending a warning glare to the gunman. “He's mine,” Seifer bit out tersely, matching the playboy's thrusts with his own, refusing to fuck Squall less hard.

 

Gritting his teeth, Irvine tightened his grip on Squall's legs, surely bruising pale skin. “I love him,” he declared, not wanting to let go ever again.

 

“Well, you can't have him,” Seifer returned, refusing to give up his mating rights. He wouldn't mind sharing from time to time, so long as his role as favorite wasn't jeopardized.

 

Angrily, Irvine thrust at a quickened pace. “I'll be better than him Squall,” he panted out, longing to sleep beside the commander every night. “I love you.”

 

“Like hell you'd be better,” Seifer bit out, struggling in the effort to top the gunman's thrusts.

 

Feeling his last vestige of strength leaving, Squall clung to the pleasure with every lucid thought he had left. “Shut up,” he gasped, only needing to be fucked, not fought over.

 

“Dammit,” Seifer cursed, unable to control himself. He couldn't last much longer. Under the circumstances, he would ignore that his position was trying to be usurped.

 

Wishing he could hold out all night, Irvine simply couldn't control how quickly Squall's body brought him to orgasm. With no warning, he was shooting his load inside the commander, and judging by the stream of curses from the ex-knight he wasn't alone.

 

Filled with bittersweet release, Squall followed in a chain reaction. Head tossed back, his fingernails dug into the gunman's hips, holding the man close so that he would feel every spurting jerk. With a wordless cry of exultation, he sank into satisfied oblivion.

 

Humming a deep note of pleasure, Seifer thrust until he was finished. “Save some for making kids, Kinneas,” he muttered, able to feel the man's jerking member as it continued to spurt copious amounts of semen. There was no doubt that it was the best orgasm the gunman would ever have.

 

“Squall,” Irvine murmured, placing frantic kisses along the pale beauty's face while he continued to wring out the final remnants of his release.

 

Pulling out first, Seifer flopped back onto the bed with a heavy exhale. Catching his breath, he silently watched as the cowboy came to the same realization he'd had moments before.

 

Burdened with the commander's body, Irvine's already strained muscles seemed to protest any continuation of his orgasm. Toppling forward, he let the brunet's body rest against the bed while he shivered in delight and observed their union for the first time. Gently releasing lean legs, he slowly withdrew his semi-flaccid length, swallowing thickly at the sight of a shrinking hole weeping trails of hot white cum. He and Seifer had made quite a mess, but he imagined it was customary for the shockingly lewd commander. Hovering above brunet's still body, he hugged the smaller man close. He was slow to realize that something wasn't right. “Squall?” he intoned in question, suddenly aware that the lithe body in his hold was limp. “Squall,” he repeated with worry, patting a pale cheek in a gentle slap.

 

“Relax cowboy,” Seifer instructed. “He's only passed out.”

 

“I told you it was too much!” Irvine hissed, quickly removing his weight from atop the deceivingly fragile boy.

 

Scoffing, Seifer pointed out, “As if that would have stopped either one of us.”

 

“It would have stopped me,” the gunman returned, underlying accusation seeming to make a second statement about how he would make a much better boyfriend for the commander.

 

Rolling his eyes, Seifer redirected, “Why don't you clean him up?”

 

Glaring, Irvine couldn't exactly refuse when it was actually a good idea. Wishing he had some idea how the commander felt after it all, he decided he to wait until the exhausted man woke up again.

 

--

 

It was quite some time later that Squall came to. Eyebrows furrowing as though scowling before even becoming fully conscious, he slowly opened his eyes to the darkness of his bedroom. Taking a deep breath, the scent of sex still lingered, reminding him of what he'd been doing before apparently falling asleep.

 

“Squall,” Irvine called quietly.

 

Turning his head to the side, Squall gazed into worried violet-blue eyes. Staring for a long moment, his lips formed a small smile.

 

“Hey,” the gunman practically cooed, hand reaching out to cup the commander's cheek. Stroking smooth skin, he felt the strong heat from the brunet's body. “How do you feel?” he questioned, lowering his voice.

 

Smile faltering, images of their threesome flooded Squall's mind. Attempting to sit up, he hissed. It was no dull throb that shot through him, but sharp radiating pain that didn't go away even as he remained perfectly still. “Irvine,” he began, quieted when the gunman promptly moved away. He watched the man's lithe form retreat, his eyes running over the nude body.

 

Irvine quickly retrieved a potion, bringing it back to bed for the commander to drink.

 

Taking the vial, Squall downed the potion and gave a grateful sigh of relief. He now understood that Seifer had meant to punish him. Sitting up, he ran a hand through tangled tresses. Glancing to the other side of his large bed, he glared at the sleeping ex-knight. The man had no remorse, just cruel possessiveness that would never allow for him to be with anyone else. Part of him didn't want to be with anyone other than Seifer, but when he glanced back at Irvine, he recalled the gunman's declaration of love. His heart fluttered pleasantly.

 

“How are you feeling?” Irvine reiterated. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he was unabashed by his nude state.

 

Nodding faintly, Squall silently assured that he was fine.

 

“I'm sorry,” Irvine murmured. He reached a hand out to touch the beautiful fighter again, but drew back at the last moment.

 

Catching the gunman's hand, Squall directed it closer. Opening curled fingers, he pressed the palm to his cheek. “Did you mean what you said?” he questioned, voice so quiet that violet eyes had to read his lips.

 

“That I love you?” Irvine questioned, leaning close.

 

Nodding again, Squall waited. He was not oblivious to the lustful words said during the heat of the moment. The first time he had confessed to Seifer had been during orgasm, and even though he did love the insufferable knight, he hadn't meant to say it out loud.

 

“Of course,” the gunman whispered. “Hyne, I don't know how long it's been, but I can't get you out of my head.” Leaning closer, he brushed against soft lips with his own. “Be with me,” he murmured. “Please, I won't hurt you again.”

 

“Again?” Squall questioned breathily, playfully nipping at the gunman's bottom lip. There was no denying that the sex had hurt. What Irvine obviously hadn't realized was that he was a bit of a masochist. Reality slowly crept in, pointing out that Seifer hadn't hurt him to the point where it became simply about the pain. Seifer knew him best and always would. Pulling back from the kiss, he admitted, “I love Seifer.”

 

Heart breaking, Irvine reminded himself that such news was hardly news at all. Brows drawn together in anguish, he questioned, “Is there no room for me?”

 

Squall found himself running his fingers through silky auburn hair, soothing the gunman's distressed state. “I could fall in love with you easily,” he admitted, his even tone hardly making it a confession. “But, I can't let go of Seifer.”

 

“He doesn't love you,” Irvine protested, grabbing the commander's arms and stilling the pleasant feel of delicate fingers running through his hair. “I've never felt this way before,” he said solemnly, an image of Selphie's cheerful face flashing before him briefly. He had loved Selphie dearly, but he hadn't been in love with her. They remained close friends.

 

Squall was seduced by everything Irvine had to offer. Ironically, the former playboy wouldn't cheat on him or ignore that he existed until the urge for a hard fuck came around. He wanted a real relationship, where he could wake up in the morning and expect a warm body beside him. He was so tired of the hollowness that came after sex, the emptiness and bitter contempt that filled him every time the ex-knight slipped away after using his body.

 

Nodding before he even knew that what he was doing, Squall agreed. “I want you too,” he stated with more certainty that he actually felt. At the sudden feel of the shifting mattress behind him, he was filled with trepidation.

 

“I'm heartbroken, Leonhart,” Seifer muttered, arm snaking around his little lion's waist. “To think you'd leave me so easily.”

 

Gasping, Squall resisted the ex-knight's hold. “Liar,” he accused, trapped tightly against a solid chest.

 

“Let him go,” Irvine ordered, glaring into taunting green eyes.

 

“You're selfish,” Seifer whispered against the brunet's ear, ignoring the gunman's demand. “You, who never tell me anything, expect that I should tell you exactly how I feel.”

 

Stormy blue eyes widened disbelievingly. Despite every instinct to guard his emotions, he had revealed his hand long ago. Seifer knew how he felt, but chose not to reciprocate. “Bastard,” he hissed, thrashing against the man's firm hold.

 

“That's right!” Seifer growled, roughly pinning the smaller man to the bed, ignoring the presence of the gunman. “I'm the bastard knight and you're everybody's hero! If I confessed to you, what would happen?”

 

Stilling abruptly, Squall stared into mesmerizing green eyes. Seeing only the ex-knight, he tried to figure out the older boy's meaning. Repeating the question over in his head, he concluded that if they both felt the same way, they would become an official couple. He hardly had daydreams of church bells, but would enjoy sitting together openly and having the right to stop the blond from flirting with others, which had caused the argument that led him to retreat to Irvine's dorm room in the first place.

 

Reading the thoughts passing through the commander's mind as though they were his own, Seifer nodded solemnly. “We could never be like a normal couple. You'd be ruined as a commander if anyone knew you were infatuated with me.”

 

“It's hardly a secret,” Squall refuted. The ex-knight spent most nights in his dorm room, which wasn't exactly something easily hidden from the other instructors or cadets.

 

“Knowing that we fuck is not the same,” Seifer stated. “Whether you're taking it or giving it is only speculation, but if you love me and others know, then I might as well be running this place behind the scenes.”

 

“Then bow out you asshole,” Irvine bit out angrily. Expression softening, he turned his attention to the commander. “No one would object if you're with me,” he stated.

 

“Shouldn't you be leaving?” Seifer commented suggestively. “You got to screw him, now run off and dream about it for the next ten years.”

 

Annoyed at the bickering pair and his own selfish wants, Squall didn't say anything. He wanted Seifer, but the prospect of a serious relationship with Irvine was extremely attractive as well.

 

Seeing stubborn petulance in the way pout lips frowned, Seifer knew his little lion couldn't choose. Deciding to make the decision easy, he reaffirmed, “I'm not giving you up.”

 

Glaring coolly, Squall informed, “That's not your decision.”

 

Laughing mirthlessly, Seifer hovered over the brunet dominantly. “Yes, lovely, it is. You've been mine since I first fucked your virgin ass.”

 

Scoffing, Squall turned his head away. He refused to acknowledge such a ridiculous notion.

 

Green eyes narrowing, Seifer gripped the commander's delicate chin and forced the man to look at him. “I will not give you up,” he said slowly, perfectly serious with a threatening undertone.

 

Defiantly, Squall glared. At length, he retorted, “Then you'll have to share.” Clarifying his meaning, his eyes darted to the gunman.

 

Seifer fought the urge to retrieve his gunblade and decapitate the sharp shooting cowboy. Instead, he feigned amusement at the underlying challenge. Laughing tersely, he eased off the stubborn lion. “Share?” he said mockingly. “I don't know the meaning of the word.”

 

Indignantly, Squall sat up, no longer pinned down with force. Holding his head high, he refused to be reduced to some needy twit desperately dependent on the affections of the man he loved. Even if he was taking the final step for all the wrong reasons, he informed, “You cannot act like my boyfriend only when it suits you.” Resolutely, he added, “I accept Irvine's feelings.”

 

Pulse quickening, Irvine shifted closer to the commander. He didn't care that Squall was doing it just to get back at Seifer. He had little doubt that given the right opportunity he could sweep the deceivingly cold man off his feet. If given a chance, he would definitely make Squall fall in love with him.

 

Jaw clenching, Seifer was forced into a corner. Seeing the willful gleam in steely blue eyes, he knew there was no arguing with the prideful lion until heated emotions calmed. “I might be inclined to let Kinneas watch every once in a while.”

 

“…” Squall folded his arms, giving the ex-knight a mulish look.

 

Eyebrow twitching with annoyance, Seifer conceded, “Perhaps join in a bit.”

 

“He'll be my lover,” Squall stated, his tone suggesting he had forgotten the gunman was in the same room.

 

“Fucking hell!” Seifer snapped. “Do you think I don't care about you?”

 

Staring for a long moment, Squall's focus wavered to a starry eyed gunman. Glancing back at the blond, he replied, “I think you care enough to pretend. Using my reputation is a sorry excuse for avoiding commitment.”

 

“What do you expect from me?” Seifer bit out edgily.

 

Scowling, Squall informed, “Fidelity would be nice.” He could put up with not being loved so long as he didn't have to stand by and watch the ex-knight sneak off with another woman every time he had to work late.

 

“Done,” Seifer replied succinctly.

 

Sighing in frustration, Squall pinched the bridge of his nose. “You've promised that before,” he pointed out dejectedly, tired of trusting the ex-knight blindly.

 

“For Hyne's sake Leonhart, I'm a healthy nineteen year old male. I have urges, which your tight ass cannot fulfill while its locked up in your office.”

 

“We have sex almost every day,” Squall refuted incredulously. The ex-knight was spouting off contradictions and he couldn't keep up.

 

“There is no excuse for a cheater,” Irvine commented, gazing amusedly at the blond. If someone of his promiscuous nature could make a complete turn around, then there was no excuse for other playboys who promised loyalty but wandered into other beds.

 

“What's that supposed to mean, you man whore?” Seifer bit out angrily.

 

“It means you don't really care about Squall,” Irvine stated heatedly.

 

“Enough!” Squall interjected at his wits' end. Shifting, he made to get out of bed. It was only as he stood naked that he realized they were all nude, arguing in bed as though they hadn't all just had sex together. “I need a shower,” he mumbled before stalking towards the bathroom. Pausing in the doorway, he instructed, “Don't kick Irvine out.”

 

Lividly, Seifer huffed in response. When the appetizing form of his lion disappeared behind the bathroom's closed door, he sighed and ran a weary hand through messy blond hair. Taking a deep breath, he turned his attention to Kinneas.

 

Irvine's eyes widened before narrowing suspiciously at the sudden lack of malicious intent in the ex-knight's expression.

 

“Kinneas,” Seifer began quietly, voice devoid of anger, “do you really love him?”

 

Diffident, Irvine muttered, “What's wrong with you?”

 

“I love him,” Seifer stated, green eyes casting a longing glance to the bathroom door. “Hyne, I love him more than anyone possibly could.”

 

Shell shocked, Irvine was acutely aware that he was hearing a confession that the commander had so obviously been pining for. What was this sudden change in the blond's entire demeanor?

 

Laughing dryly, Seifer hastily took advantage of his single opportunity to pour his heart out before never speaking of his feelings again. “I've been faithful. I can't even think of anyone else but him, let alone sleep with someone else.”

 

“Why….” Irvine had too many questions to give voice to just one. When the ex-knight gestured for him to be quiet, he held his tongue obediently.

 

“I can't give him what he wants without ruining his life,” Seifer stated soundly. “I shouldn't have carried on with him after the war. I don't deserve him. I knew it wouldn't last like this forever. If you love him and swear to make him happy, then you can have him.”

 

Not quite grasping the previously furious man's meaning, Irvine stared for several long moments. Finally, when he thought he had everything figured out, he opened his mouth to comment. “What?” he found himself saying, still completely lost.

 

Grumbling, Seifer clarified, “If you can swear on your life that your whorish ways are over and that you will worship the fucking ground Squall walks on, then I will step down.”

 

“Is that a joke?” Irvine questioned.

 

Real anger flaring, Seifer glared. “You're less enthusiastic than you seemed moments ago. Perhaps I was mistaken. I shouldn't hand him over to you.”

 

“No,” Irvine asserted ardently, knowing on some level that he absolutely needed to accept the knight's offer. “I do love him. I didn't realize how much before, but tonight was amazing. I've never-”

 

Seifer cut the playboy off, “You can't want him for sex. Don't think with your tiny prick, because I'll cut it off if you're doing this just to sleep with him.”

 

Violet-blue eyes sharpened. Irvine was hardly harmless and resented being threatened as though he were some garden-variety fighter. Realizing he was concerning himself with matters wholly unrelated to what he should be concentrating on, he dismissed his annoyance and tried to comprehend the magnitude of what Seifer had said. From what he could surmise, Seifer was actually very much in love with Squall, but would rather give the commander up than besmirch the man's reputation and likely hinder any future prospects in politics. It was obvious Squall was destined for great things, and a romance with the world's reluctantly forgiven enemy could no doubt endanger such a bright future.

 

“Are you hesitating?” Seifer questioned dangerously. Hesitation implied uncertainty and insincerity, and he would not relinquish his standing to a man who hesitated.

 

“No,” Irvine said gravely, impressing a great depth of feeling into the single word. He was a gunman. He didn't hesitate to pull the trigger, not when he had his target in sight. “I love him,” he declared, the words feeling rather foreign on his tongue but entirely true.

 

Gritting his teeth, Seifer tried to keep his momentum going, knowing that as soon as he had second thoughts he wouldn't be able to let go. “I may…” he started, hating how it felt like his heart was breaking. “I may change my mind,” he explained awkwardly. “I may want him back… or try to…”

 

“I'll fight,” Irvine stated firmly. “I'll keep him.”

 

Swallowing thickly, Seifer composed himself again. Nodding once, he shifted and climbed out of the bed. It would be the last time he sat in a bed that carried Squall's scent.

 

Irvine watched with growing respect as the ex-knight dressed.

 

Collecting a few scrap articles, Seifer tried not to think. Intent on making hasty exit, he paused outside the bathroom door. He stared somberly while listening to the running water of his little lion's shower.

 

“Was it an act?” Irvine questioned, recalling the possessive man's behavior that had been present only minutes ago.

 

“Not for a second,” Seifer murmured, hand reaching out to press against cold steel, wishing he were inside beneath the warm spray while fondling the enchanting boy. Speaking over his shoulder quietly, he admitted, “I am a ruthless lover, but I have my moments of clarity. You came along on a good night. Now he's yours.” Hand lowering, he turned for the main door. Steps faltering, he reached inside his pants pocket and extracted a little black book, the cover and pages crinkled and worn. Facing the still nude gunman, he tossed the item across the room.

 

Irvine caught the small book, staring at it for a curious moment before regarding the blond questioningly.

 

“I'll kill you if you say a word to him or anyone else. You can use that. It should help. Keep him happy, because I will take any chance to steal him back.” Without further delay, Seifer departed swiftly.

 

Awestruck, Irvine stared after the blond ex-knight. Tentatively, he examined what the older boy had left him. Lifting the soft cover that might very well have been leather at one point, but felt like tissue paper, violet eyes scanned the first page.

 

Lips relaxing as his expression became blank, Irvine stared in disbelief. Flipping through what couldn't have been more than fifty pages meant for some journalists' shorthand notes, he scanned the tiny writing that covered every inch of every page.

 

It was a collection of little known facts about Squall, the quiet man's likes and dislikes. There was the occasional note that was wholly unrelated to the commander's preferences, merely some noteworthy observation about the man's habits.

 

Food:

>Drinks coffee with liberal amount of cream, not powdered. If it's flavored coffee, he drinks it black. Small cup so it never goes lukewarm before refill. Likes strong over weak, and never decaf.

>Hates almost all green vegetables, but eats them regularly. Trepe has secret to making them to his liking.

>Eats salad with every dinner, no dressing.

>No green olives. Even the scent makes him nauseous.

>Fridge must always have cherries. He'll put out for ripe cherries.

>Hates white chocolate.

>Loves candy, refuses to eat it. Will not refuse if it's incorporated into sex.

 

Mesmerized, Irvine flipped past the notes on food, vowing to memorize everything later.

 

Sleeping habits:

>He likes to sleep naked, but make sure clothes are nearby in case of emergency.

>Never fondle him during sleep unless intending to have sex, it will happen regardless.

>Never tinker with alarm clock except on Sundays. He'll only sleep in on Sundays.

>Seriously, never ever mess with the alarm unless you want to die.

>Talks more in his sleep than when awake. He'll respond if you start talking to him. He never lies while sleep talking.

>Occasional sleepwalker, only when overworked.

>He prefers to sleep on the bedside closet to a wall. If no wall, he likes the right side better, that's from a reclining perspective.

 

Irvine glanced behind, noting that the right side of the commander's bed was against the wall. How obsessed was the ex-knight to have taken notice of such a quirk? He wouldn't be surprised if Squall were unaware of half the stuff Seifer had written about. Flipping forward, he scanned a random page.

 

>He doesn't need to shave often, so he's terrible at it. Barber in Balamb gives lessons, so learn how to shave him or he'll slit his own throat.

 

Casting a cautious glance to the bathroom door, he listened for the sound of water to make sure he had more time. Bypassing the section on pet peeves, he stopped abruptly and was compelled to read the one on sex.

 

Sex:

>He will never ever enjoy sex as much as he did with me!!

 

Bowed lips frowned as Irvine realized Seifer had written the small book for the exact purpose of handing Squall over to someone else. He might just have to rethink his negative opinion of the ex-knight.

 

>He handles rough beautifully. He can handle almost anything, but won't speak up if it's too painful. When he cries, don't push him any further. He's not a real masochist.

>He loves having his hair played with, though he won't show it. Best start of foreplay is to brush his hair.

>No kink unless it's a holiday or birthday.

>No office fucking unless it's a weekend.

>He loves sex more than he'll ever admit, so fuck him regularly.

>He's rarely dominant, but if he wants to do some riding, take advantage of it.

>No bondage, he's too sensitive about being locked up.

>Use condom for quickies, he shouldn't have cum inside him while working.

 

Irvine jumped at the sound of the water shutting off. Scrambling to hide the small book, he had a few seconds to compose himself before the bathroom door opened.

 

Squall exited the bathroom with a towel draped over his shoulders and a pair of loose fitting boxers on. Stopping mid step, he stared at a seductively posed gunman on the bed. “Seifer?” he questioned shortly.

 

Heart beating rapidly, Irvine cursed the downside to being handed the reins. It was his job to let the oblivious commander know what had happened. “He's gone,” he drawled softly.

 

“Gone?” Using the end of the towel, Squall ruffled wet locks. If anyone had been kicked out, he would have expected it to be Irvine.

 

“He left,” Irvine rephrased, his tone implying something more serious.

 

Freezing, Squall let the towel drop forgotten. Expression schooled to hide his emotions, he felt rising panic. Had he been too stubborn? Was Seifer seriously upset with him now? “Where?” he murmured, intent on following.

 

Swallowing thickly, Irvine just shook his head. “I can give you what you want,” he reminded, arm extending and beckoning the lithe fighter to join him in bed.

 

A look of anguish overcame delicate features. Shaking his head quickly, Squall took a step back. “Where?” he repeated.

 

Breath hitching, Irvine's chest constricted tightly. Was breaking the vulnerable lion worth it? He felt confident he could glue the pieces back together, but it was murder on his heart to watch. “He left,” he said once more, staring evenly into anguished grey-blue eyes.

 

Rushing, Squall moved to his dresser.

 

Irvine stood swiftly. Approaching the frantic brunet, he drew flush against a lithely muscled back. “It'll be okay,” he whispered, hands set on the boy's shoulders.

 

A small tremor passed through Squall's body. What had he done? The ex-knight had been so pushy, so he had been compelled to defy such dominance. He had been childish to use Irvine as a threat. “I…” he began, needing to know where Seifer had gone, but he quieted when the gunman hugged him tightly.

 

“I love you,” Irvine whispered, squeezing the smaller man tightly. “Let me show you what it's like,” he requested.

 

“…” Squall didn't know what to say or how to respond.

 

“I'm here now. It's just you and me,” Irvine murmured against the brunet's ear.

 

“… …”

 

Sighing softly, Irvine commented, “Your hair's wet. Let me dry it for you.” He noted the small shiver that ran through the body in his hold. Seifer had been right. Squall loved having his hair played with. “Where's your brush?” he questioned, making his intentions clearer.

 

Resisting his urge to go along, Squall stood firmly in place. “He really left me?” he asked in small voice. He knew even Seifer had limits to being resisted, but he hadn't thought the man would ever leave him. He had been such a fool.

 

Not knowing how much Seifer wanted revealed, Irvine settled for a vague, “Yes.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Squall reminded himself that he had been prepared for such a breakup. He had been the one to seek Irvine in the first place. He had been the one who needed more. “Okay,” he agreed, turning in the gunman's hold. “Show me.” Somehow, it didn't feel real. Part of him was positive he would spend more nights with Seifer, and that was reassuring.

 

Smiling faintly, Irvine kissed soft lips.

 

Squall was responsive, but images of Seifer flooded his mind. It wasn't until he lay curled on the bed with his head in Irvine's lap that he began to calm down. The feel of fingers running through his hair was ridiculously pleasurable and soothing.

 

Irvine ran his fingers through lengthy brown locks until damp hair was completely dry. Slowly, the commander drifted off to sleep. Though he knew the boy was thinking about Seifer, he was confident he could replace the man in the commander's heart. He had never dreamed of being given such a chance. Finally able to express his feelings, he felt like all his years of playing around had been training to make his beloved happy. He wouldn't fail.

 

 

THE END

 

Author's Notes: Heh, wow, that dragged on a lot longer than I intended. I just wanted to try writing a threesome, and the actual threesome ended up being a very small part of the one-shot. Oh well. The other one-shot is definitely a PWP, practically no plausibility and almost all lemon. This one is a bit cramped. One-shots always start out easily enough, but I end up trying to fit so much in that it ceases to resemble a one-shot by the time I'm finished. It was a change of pace anyway, so I hope everyone enjoyed at least some part of it.