Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Somatic Memory ❯ Somatic Memory ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

By: DB2020

Warning: Mildly graphic scene and general fluffiness abound. And watch out for typos and general errors, they're dangerous and an accident this author never meant to unleash.

Somatic Memory

Part II

Seifer stalked away angrily after locking the bathroom door. Easy to open from either side if the person knew which button to press, he was assured that Leonhart would be forced to take a damn shower. He'd spent a good half hour forcing the brunet under the water's spray. Finally taming the less than enthused kitty, the boy understood enough to stay in place. He left after miming how to wash oneself, refusing to be some fucking nanny to a two year old and actually wash the commander down.

It hadn't even been an entire twenty-four hours with Leonhart and he felt like the biggest idiot after showing the inept brunet how to eat, how to sleep, how to dress, and most recently how to shower. It was ridiculous and he doubt he'd ever forgive Kinneas, Tilmitt, and Dincht for invariably putting him in such a situation.

Checking his watch, Seifer decided that he had time to go to the cafeteria and hang out with Raijin and Fujin for a few minutes. The odds of Leonhart actually figuring out what he'd meant to be done with the shampoo and soap were slim, so a squat under the water was good enough.

It was a short jog to the cafeteria, and Seifer was lucky to just make it in time for breakfast. Failing to get the lunch lady to give him two meals, he settled for giving Leonhart his serving of milk. Maybe there was a can of tuna in the commander's little kitchen. He knew enough to not feed Leonhart actual cat food, since the repercussions of being caught would certainly outweigh his amusement.

“Seifer,” Raijin greeted as the blond man sat down at the table with himself and Fujin.

“ABSENT,” Fujin remarked.

“Yeah, I know,” Seifer returned. “For once I have a decent excuse and now I'd rather be going to class.”

“Whoa man,” Raijin commented, dark eyes wide in surprise. “You were legitimately ditching? That's like not possible, ya know?”

Rolling his eyes, Seifer kindly informed, “This is the last fucking semester I spend trying to take the damn exam. I'm not screwing it up for nothing.”

“Then let's here it, ya know?” Raijin managed to say with a mouthful of cornflakes.

“I'm babysitting Leonhart until his genius friends can figure out how to reverse what they did to him,” Seifer explained in one go.

When Fujin's single visible brow rose, neither man could tell if she was expressing surprise or skepticism.

Torn between asking how in Hyne's name Seifer was nominated as Leonhart's caretaker and what was actually wrong with the commander, Raijin scratched his chin instead. “Like, why?” he eventually questioned.

“Why what?” Seifer returned with a reproachful glance.

“Umm,” Raijin intoned at a loss. “Why are you the one doing the babysitting, ya know?”

Scoffing, Seifer informed, “I haven't a clue. Dr. Kadowaki asked me to, and Trepe all but threatened my expulsion if I refused.”

“SICK?” Fujin questioned, referring the condition the commander was in.

“An accident with blue magic,” the blond supplied. “Let's talk about something else. If I have to deal with the guy every hour of the day, I'd like at least a little time to myself.”

Reluctant to comply, Raijin eventually gave an agreeing nod with the promise of gleaning more information later. “Tanya was sure missing you, wondering if you were sick and if she should nurse you back to health,” he informed with a smirk. He practically snorted with laughter into his cereal bowl at the stunned regret on Seifer's face.

“Tanya with the double Ds,” Seifer groaned with longing. “I thought she was playing hard to get.”

Fujin began chuckling stiffly. With a knowing gleam in her red eye, she said, “BOYFRIEND.”

Nodding, Raijin elaborated, “Her boyfriend is in the same class as us. It's a little hard to flirt when he's sitting right there. But, she wanted me to specifically tell you that she's free to see other people now.”

Letting out a longing sigh, Seifer shook his fist to express his discontent. “Women get kinky when they're on the rebound,” he said, eyes subtly scouring the rest of the cafeteria in the hopes of finding Tanya right then.

“Well her offer still stands,” Raijin assured. “She came by like ten minutes ago. That's kind of desperate, ya know?”

“Desperate can be good,” Seifer assured. “Where'd she go?”

Raijin spoke above Fujin's laughter. “Her dorm room,” he said, awkwardly reaching into his pocket before handing off a piece of paper.

“What's this?” Seifer questioned as he took it.

“Like I said, she must be desperate,” the dark haired man returned. “That's the code to her room, no keycard necessary.”

“I knew she couldn't resist me,” Seifer said with an arrogant grin, holding the piece of paper victoriously.

---

Seifer reclined on a bed within the women's dormitory. With two hot blondes contently resting on either side of him, he wallowed in the euphoric aftermath of bedding not just one big-breasted bombshell, but two big-breasted bombshells. That was almost enough cleavage to overcrowd the bed. Tanya had a roommate, and he must have been doing something right, because little miss Leslie had wanted in on the action. Believing himself to be Hyne's gift to women at the moment, he smiled with an arrogance that was born of unwavering confidence.

“Mmm,” the blonde roommate intoned happily. Lazily shifting from her place, she sat up. “I wish I didn't have to go.”

Chuckling, Tanya raked her acrylic nails across the washboard abs of the ex-knight. “Now he's all mine,” she jibed with a sated smile.

Seifer watched lecherously as one naked woman walked away, the sway to her hips obviously for his own pleasure. Chuckling inwardly, he decided that things could become real nice if he dated Tanya and made frequent visits to her place, where a threesome would likely reoccur.

On the verge of falling asleep, Seifer was jolted from his relaxed state by a piercing screech. Out of bed, he was going in the general direction of where the trouble was in a matter of seconds.

A disgruntle young woman stalked out of the bathroom. “Sorry,” Leslie apologized, smiling widely at the sight of the ex-knight's bared body, knowing he'd rushed to check on her. “It's nothing.”

Raising his brows in question, Seifer dismissed it as a case of a spotted spider.

“Seifer,” Tanya called, leaning against the wall beside the bedroom door. “Come back to bed.”

“Tanya, I think they limited the hot water again,” Leslie announced. “I'm going to have to take a cold shower.”

“Again?” Tanya complained. “Hyne, how long does it take to replace the heaters in this place?”

Jade-green eyes widened as Seifer suddenly remembered the kitten he was supposed to be looking after. “Shit,” he cursed, quickly backtracking into the bedroom. Snatching at strewn clothes that had been torn heatedly from his body, he dressed in record timing.

With a whining complaint, Tanya questioned, “Where are you going?”

“We could take shower together,” Leslie offered. “It wouldn't be cold then.”

Gritting his teeth as he forced himself not to succumb to the particular calls of his libido, Seifer concluded that he could always come back another time. “We'll pick this up another time ladies,” he spoke in parting, cursing inwardly as he made a hasty exit.

Back once more at the commander's little apartment, Seifer practically held his breath as he entered. Hoping against hope that no one had come by to check in, he was graced by Hyne once more that day. Perhaps it was simply retribution for his initial stroke of bad luck.

Figuring the worst he had to deal with was a stir crazy cat-boy that had made a bed out of the supply of towels in the bathroom, Seifer was calm enough when pressing the release on the bathroom's door and walking in.

The sound of running water wasn't surprising, since he could hardly expect Leonhart to know how to turn the tap off. The air itself felt chilled, the cold spray obviously having gone for some time. A glance at his watch informed him that he'd been gone a little more than an hour.

Not seeing his charge upon first glance around the small bathroom, he immediately assumed the boy had figured the way out. It was the sound of a soft whimper that drew him back inside just as he was leaving.

Stricken with a sudden fear that seemed to jolt through him unexpectedly, he threw aside the shower curtain. Disbelief kept Seifer from registering anything else at first, though concern and guilt weren't far behind.

Shivering helplessly, a sodden Leonhart huddled at the bottom of the shower. With a spray of icy water wide enough to encompass the entire area of the square shaped washing area, there was no escaping the source of coldness, beyond getting out of the shower altogether.

“Leonhart,” Seifer called, turning the water off. A wave of dread ran through him at the confirming feel of cold water that any sane person wouldn't stand under for more than a couple minutes.

Dropping to his knees, Seifer regarded the huddled form that didn't even seem to realize his presence. “Hey,” he practically cooed, still receiving no response as the brunet simply continued to shiver ceaselessly.

Reaching out, he placed a hand against dripping hair, darkened by the water and frighteningly cold to the touch. “Fucking Hyne,” he spoke, wondering how long a person could survive while hypothermic.

Head raising for the first time, Seifer was treated to the sight of flattened ears and disoriented eyes peering at him beyond streaming tears.

Slow to react with his guilt and overwhelming concern for someone he'd never previously given much thought to outside of battle, Seifer reacted involuntarily. Lurching forward, he gathered the shaking man to himself, panicking at the sudden chill that swept over his own body.

“Hyne,” he murmured, dragging Leonhart out of the shower. He was forced to carry the boy when that lithe body seemed incapable of unfurling, stubborn in its need to contain whatever traces of vital heat remained.

“It's okay,” he said, forgetting that soothing words meant little when he was the only one who understood anything. “Idiot,” he accused, as his emotions seemed to turn in all directions. “Who the fuck stays in place? When I first put you under, you kept trying to get out!”

Seifer cut his stream of reprimands short when the vulnerable form in his arms whimpered in response, obviously picking up on the anger in his tone.

“Dammit!” he cursed one last time, having to put a stopper in his rant, even if he needed an outlet at the moment.

Setting his load down on the bed, he tore the covers down. Choosing a different target of his anger, he muttered quietly, “Fucking cheap ass place that can't have more than five minutes of hot water at a time like this.”

With nothing that could be done but to raise Leonhart's body temperature, he ran back into the bathroom and grabbed a couple of nearby towels. Returning, he quickly stripped out of his clothes and climbed into the bed. He drew the younger man close before covering them both with the blanket. With the towels, he set about drying wet hair that would only counteract his attempts to increase body temperature.

Frantic and rushed, Seifer was a bit rough in his task. When the brunet tried to shy away from him despite the fact that he was the greatest source of heat, he realized he was upsetting the boy further. He tried to be gentler in consideration for the triangular cat ears that were likely pained by any touch in a near numb state.

Recalling that his parting words had been a shouted command and unmistakable gesture for the brunet to stay put, Seifer was hit with more guilt than someone of his nature generally felt in a lifetime. “Why would you listen to me?” he questioned.

Satisfied enough with simply damp hair, Seifer cast aside the towel. “Come here,” he said, drawing the boy closer once more. In a struggle to unclasp the arms folded against a shivering body, he forced Leonhart to embrace him so that his own heat could transfer directly to the most vital place.

Seeming to understand after a moment, the freezing brunet seemed to compromise by enfolding shaking arms around the broad ex-knight's body instead. With the first feeling of warmth setting in, those arms tightened their hold as Squall latched on and tried to furl as close as possible.

Seifer forced himself to deal with it, his own body wanting to shy from the cold. Adjusting the covers to tuck around them and draw right up over Leonhart's head, he settled in with the belief that it wasn't too late to simply apply body heat.

---

For the second time in as many days, Seifer found himself lying in bed with a very much naked Leonhart. It was warm beneath the covers and he was greatly relieved to note that much of that warmth was coming from the smaller man's body.

Rested enough, the blond found himself biding his time simply watching the sleeping creature in his arms. He wasn't sure whether to think of Leonhart as human or not. Beyond the big pointy ears and the long tail, the brunet remained seemingly human. The nails weren't much different than the sets on some of the women he'd known, and the teeth weren't visible most of the time. The oval shaped pupils were pretty weird, but surprisingly not very noticeable.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, a rare apology for someone who never believed himself to be wrong.

Ear twitching, settling low against drying tufts of tangled hair, a small yawn seemed to announce Squall's oblivious content at the moment. With periodic tremors, the brunet simply sunk deeper into the embrace and calmed again.

Chuckling quietly, Seifer conceded that Leonhart was perhaps a little bit cute at the moment. While completely baffled by the idea that his rival could be cute, he figured that kittens had a universal appeal.

“I don't think you need my body anymore,” the ex-knight commented as the boy nudged up under his chin. “Are you even sleeping?” he questioned, eyes peering down and spotting movement beneath the blanket, which was obviously a playful tail.

Pulling back, Seifer gazed into wakened stormy blue eyes. He felt another wave of guilt

at the sight of dried tears staining pale cheeks. Having hoped it had just been the water, he gave a frustrated sigh before cradling the back of the brunet's head and directing it to pressed against his collar.

Awkwardly intimate, Seifer chose to ignore that tidbit and comfort his still entirely heterosexual preference by assuring himself that at the moment, it was like holding an animal.

Squirming a bit, Squall eventually settled down once more.

---

“Everything appears in order,” Dr. Kadowaki said as she set her stethoscope around her neck.

“Perfect order if being part cat is normal,” Seifer grumbled in annoyance. “How much longer is it going to take?” It had already been a week.

“Come now Mr. Almasy. Shouldn't you be celebrating your success in the SeeD exam?”

Green eyes narrowed in remembrance of the auspicious day. It had taken an hour to calm his perceptive pet down and let him leave the apartment. The after party hadn't gone nearly as planned. What should have consisted of hanging out with Raijin and Fujin, and later sleeping with Tanya and Leslie, had ended up as a night alone with a clinging Leonhart.

“I'll celebrate when I'm actually on active duty and can do something without the bloody commander trying to climb all over me,” the blond bit out.

“He's just friendly,” Kadowaki assured, eyeing the manner in which Mr. Leonhart unabashedly hugged the ex-knight's arm as though a young toddler refusing to let go of his mother.

Gazing at the woman sardonically, Seifer informed, “He sleeps with me, he showers with me, and now he knows how to open the doors.”

Laughing it off, the older woman straightened up. It was reassuring to know that the ex-knight was taking closely monitored care of the commander. “We're making promising headway. Miss Tilmitt has been practicing blue magic around the clock. If anything, we'll be able to fix the commander's mentality in a matter of days.” Moving away, she walked out of sight to her desk.

“`Soon,' she says,” Seifer muttered, directing his focus to the inexplicably happy brunet at his side. “What are you smiling about?” he queried, a small smirk of his own forming when the boy's tail reacted to the sound of his voice.

“Seifer,” Squall spoke with glee, eyes alight with expectant excitement.

Seifer hesitated a moment to confirm the doctor's absence. Tackling Leonhart to the bed, he proceeded to tickle the boy mercilessly. Unrestrained laughter came while the lithe figure squirmed about in the mayhem of joyous torture.

The kitten had managed to mimic a few choice words from him, his name being among them. He didn't think that the brunet grasped the concept that he was called `Seifer', though he was to blame for that. Somehow linking together the name with the being tickled, it was now said with the intention to make him start poking and prodding in places that drove most people wild with laughter. Unable to correct the boy's learning, he caved each time his name was spoken.

“What on earth,” Dr. Kadowaki said as she approached, greatly shocked at the sight presented to her.

Stopping abruptly, Seifer hastily climbed off the bed, only to have his back burdened when Leonhart promptly jumped on him. Unable to deny that he'd indeed been playing with the boy, he acted like it weren't at all abnormal. Leaning to the side, he slid his charge down off his back.

Standing on his own, Squall beamed merrily. “Milk,” he said in request.

Clearing his throat, Seifer returned, “When we get back.” Picking up the ball cap on the edge of the mattress, he held it up and waited for Leonhart to obediently flatten those ears. Once the hat was in place, he reached around back and lifted the loose grey t-shirt for the tail to hide beneath.

Giving the former knight a scrutinizing look, the doctor said, “You poor dear. What a terrible time you seem to be having.”

“I don't appreciate the sarcasm,” Seifer quipped.

Stalking away, his kitten swiftly latching onto his arm and following, Seifer made for the door.

“Mr. Almasy,” Dr. Kadowaki called out. “I never expected to have to say this, but don't become overly attached. There's more than a good chance that when we fix this, your relationship with Commander Leonhart will resume its previous course.”

“The course where we try to kill each other?” Seifer questioned rhetorically.

Drawing the blond man's attention, Squall nipped at the arm in his hold, teeth tugging and threatening to put a hole in the sleeve of the forest green shirt.

“Hey,” Seifer chastised, reaching out with his free hand and adjusting the hat so it road so low that stormy eyes would be covered. Lying to himself and the doctor, he assured, “Don't worry. I'll be relieved when it's over.”

---

Seifer settled into bed with Leonhart. He was rather disturbed about how the arrangement had developed with such ease. With more than a sneaking suspicion that the strange attachment had been born of his ability to settle the frightened creature down, even if it had taken force, the ex-knight was mildly content to picture the aghast faces of all of the commander's friends in his head.

Even tamed and entirely harmless in his arms, Leonhart did not react kindly to others. Each time Kadowaki examined the brunet, it was only because he gave explicit orders for good behavior. The power he held over his rival was somewhat enthralling. The downside was the fact that he was simultaneously powerless to abuse to his power.

In the darkened bedroom, green eyes watched as the kitten drifted off. He found great pleasure in letting his breath ghost over a soft ear, causing it to twitch. If he did it enough times, a small sound of protest would unintelligibly tell him to stop, and if he persisted in his mischief then teeth would nip at him.

Chuckling at the quiet protesting whine that came, he continued his teasing until the glistening sight of lengthy canines were bared and sunk into loose collar of his t-shirt. “You're awake,” he accused, smiling despite himself when Leonhart started laughing, not releasing the mouthful of his shirt.

When the bit of his shirt was released as a wide yawn overtook the brunet, Seifer shifted slightly and relented to stop his teasing. Reaching up he scratched at the ears in a show that he was done having his senseless fun.

---

After a full week of celibacy, finding out the hard way that watching over Leonhart was a fulltime job, Seifer was having one of the wettest dreams since his balls had first dropped. Warmth and friction concentrated at his groin while fractured images of what his body desired played through his head.

It was both startling and arousing to have his dream slowly alter from heads of blonde hair and jiggling breasts to a single head of unmannered chestnut tufts and a flat chest of firm muscle. In a dream, it hardly mattered what the fantasy was, especially when he actually felt like he was close to getting off on it.

Rocking his hips, he quite enjoyed the realistic feel to his dream. He was so close. There was a sense of arousing domination to it, which was what eventually sent him crashing over the edge.

On some plain between being awake and being asleep, Seifer's orgasm shuddered through him with an unexpected realism that was sharper than if he were just receiving a morning wood. The experience wasn't wholly unknown to him. He'd often gone to bed with someone and woke up after having just screwed them once more. Afterwards, a soft voice would coo that he was amazing and one last round before the sun came up was irresistible, which was always the reason for the heightened sense of realism to the dream.

Slowly, through the daze of lust and the veil of sleep, Seifer began to register that something was amiss. Eventually, when he cared enough to leave his blissful haven behind, he peered out from behind sleepy lids.

Seifer's eyes widened immediately as he gazed directly into fearful stormy blue orbs. His shirt once more in the boy's mouth, apparently a favored way of drawing his attention, it bared many holes, torn beyond repair.

Swallowing thickly, Seifer flexed his hand and relented his bruising grasp that bound thin wrists above the head of the boy he had pinned beneath him. Dreading the inevitable look beneath the covers, he carefully climbed off the stiff body.

“Dammit!” the ex-knight cursed, realizing his blunder all too late to make it forgivable.

With a sudden anger at the innocent kitten that hadn't done anything but be affectionate, which had subsequently lead to such a situation, Seifer clambered off the bed and stalked to the bathroom. He was too angry to be thankful that his fucking hump fest hadn't gone beyond simply gyrating against the brunet.

Cleaning himself up and changing his boxers, the blond returned to the bedroom with the intention of finding a spare blanket and bunking on the couch. He should have put his foot down about not sleeping together. He should have rejected the brunet's persistence in secretly crawling near him while asleep.

Seifer was surprised to return and find the curled up form of Leonhart shaking subtly. In the dark, it was easy to conclude that the boy was crying. Feeling more than a little responsible, he gently knelt on the mattress and shook a narrow shoulder.

“Hey,” he spoke to capture the brunet's attention. Wishing he could explain the meaning behind what he'd done, his frustration was greater when realizing he didn't even have the disposition to apologize. It had been a mistake, a regrettable but entirely understandable mistake. Since first losing his virginity at fourteen, any sleeping bodies within the proximity of his own bed had always been women he'd earned the consensual passage to have sex with.

With a small whimper, Squall turned over, gazing up with watery eyes. Looking to the hovering man for help, he awaited whatever came next.

Frowning, Seifer wondered if he'd hurt Leonhart. He was shamed further by realizing that while his shirt was torn, the boy hadn't even fought back enough to do him any harm. Knowing that made him feel like the biggest jerk in the world.

“I'm sorry,” the blond said, the phrase growing far more common as of late. “What's wrong?” he questioned, sitting down and setting a hand against dark hair. Half wondering if the kitten were simply too frightened to do anything but curl up and cry, he stroked silky tresses, fingers nimbly rubbing flattened ears.

Kindness was not Seifer's specialty. In fact, he'd never admit to being kind unless under the threat of castration. His entire homestead at the commander's place was top secret, and the truth of how he treated the kitten was something only he and the little crybaby knew about. Assuming Leonhart's memory was going to be wiped once the whole cat transfiguration thing was taken care of, then it would be his secret alone.

Recalling that he'd been holding the boy's wrists, he reached down and grasped one gently. Hardly surprised at the complacency in which Leonhart allowed him to do whatever he liked, he examined the seemingly delicate area.

“No bruising,” he murmured softly, his other hand still stroking the boy in a petting manner. He did feel bad about the incident, worse yet at the continued state of distress Leonhart was in.

Whimpering, Squall retracted the hand in the blond's hold. Nails scratching at the hem of his over sized t-shirt, he lifted it up in indication of his ailment.

Eyes widening, Seifer stared with incredulity at the bulge in Leonhart's flannel pants. It was a long moment before his mind seemed able to fully comprehend the problem.

“Oh,” the ex-knight intoned to announce his delayed understanding. “I didn't see that one coming.”

Tentatively touching himself, Squall's mouth fell open with another whimper. His eyes silently pleaded for his caretaker to fix it. The underlying fear present in stormy blue eyes suggested that there was too much fear and uncertainty for there to be any pleasure.

Seifer was only able to take another minute of watching the needy boy squirm. Drawing the curled form to himself, half resting in his lap, he calmed Leonhart by gently scratching at the base of soft ears.

Knowing he had the brunet's unconditional trust, learning that when he'd managed to coerce the boy into the shower after his initial hypothermic blunder, Seifer was still cautious as he slid a hand beneath the waist band of loose pajama bottoms.

Meeting the tip of the younger man's arousal, he quieted his protesting heterosexual qualms by reminding himself that this was his responsibility. As his fingers slid down the hardened shaft, he could already tell the engorged organ was slender than his own, something not always telltale when seeing it on a peripheral glance in the shower.

Jolting in his reclined placement and giving off a keening sound between approval and fright, Squall huddled closer to Seifer. With fingers grasping at the ex-knight's hand invading his pants and his other arm hugging the larger man's waist, the signals to stop and continue clashed.

“It's okay,” Seifer soothed quietly, fearful that if the thrashing boy continued to rub against his groin too much, there would be a repeat of having to change his boxers.

In a firm stroke, Seifer proceeded to jerk Leonhart off. As he thought that he should simply let the perceptive boy pick up from there with the general idea of what to do, the notion was driven from his mind when a pleasured cry seemed to echo through the room.

With his expectations for salvation being fulfilled beyond simple relief, Squall's hips bucked into the pumping hand. Nails raking across the man's chest, dragging the shirt down and threatening to claw tears in it, he cried out with blind need.

“You're a fucking screamer,” Seifer commented, wondering if the walls were sound proof.

Stroke after stroke, the ex-knight showed Leonhart what physical pleasure was. Getting into it, knowing from experience what felt best, he altered the pressure of his grip and swiped his thumb across the leaking head every so often.

Writhing in ecstasy, shuddering at each stroke, and keening with orgasmic abandon, Squall was driven insane by the experience. Going taut as a wire, arching wildly, he finally came into the calloused hand in his pants.

Seifer watched in awed silence, not even sure where to begin on what he'd just done. The bulge of his own erection, the mushroomed head poking through the front of his boxers, confirmed what his mind refused to acknowledge. While he could write it off as the stimulation of the squirming body against his groin, he'd eventually accept the truth that bringing his rival off had been what aroused him.

Extracting his hand covered in the sticky mess of Leonhart's release, Seifer let the sound of spent panting fill his ears. The hand that absently pet tousled strands of dark chestnut hair left its perch and covered his mouth in an outward gesture of what he felt inside.

“Holy fuck,” he muttered, the curse muffled by his hand, the dismissed notions of proper conduct coming back to squash out any conclusions that his actions had been necessary.

Dazed grey-blue eyes looked around before finding focus on the hand covered in a milky substance that seemed recognizable. Lazily touching the blond's hand, it was a quick assessment that the fluid was not milk. Sniffing at the bitter release, his tongue darted out to test a sample.

Seifer broke out into laughter at the cringing face Leonhart pulled, repulsed by the heavy flavor of semen. Shaking his head, he made a show of wiping the fluid on the bed sheet, as if teaching the boy that cum wasn't for consumption.

His amusement fleeting, Seifer gave a gruff sigh. He determined that he'd have to address this incident properly. The question was how.

TBC…