Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Stress Relief ❯ Chapter 1

Irvine paused with his finger poised over the entry button to Squall's office door. This was going to be difficult. Talking to Squall was always difficult, but he'd already sent Quisits packing today. Whatever had happened on his trip to Deling had clearly put him in the worst of moods, and tempting though it was to just plain ignore him til he cooled off, they needed Squall reasonably calm before Zell and Selphie got back from Trabia.

Irvine took a deep breath and pressed the buzzer.

The sound of the buzzer startled Squall out of a work-daze, and he looked up from his desk long enough to call "Come in!" before going back to the paperwork spread across every available surface. He would have left the figures reconciling to Quistis, except she was handling payroll and there was no one else, which left him bent over page after page after page of print-outs with pen and highlighter.

He'd forgotten the interruption by the time Irvine reached his desk.

Irvine cleared his throat. "Hey, Squall."

"Irvine." Squall looked up quickly, carefully not moving his fingers from his place on the left-hand spreadsheet, highlighter poised to continue. "What is it? What can I do for you?"

"It's..." Irvine struggled for words. All the careful sentences he'd composed on the way here melted away in the face of Squall's steady grey gaze. "How was Deling?" he finished lamely, kicking himself before the last syllable was out of his mouth.

Squall stared up at Irvine for an incredulous moment. "Irvine, I don't have time to chat right now."

Damn. Why was talking to Squall always so damn hard? It wasn't as if Irvine didn't like him. He wouldn't have followed him to Hell and back if he didn't. Sometimes, after late night card games, when the strain of work eased the slightest frown on Squall's pretty face when he actually laughed a bit; at those times Irvine liked Squall a lot, and couldn't help but wonder what he'd have been like if his life had been different. More ordinary. Less…

Irvine suddenly realised he'd been silent for a long time; Squall was still waiting, with mounting irritation for him to speak.

He took a deep breath, holding Squall's gaze. "It's about Rinoa."

Squall snorted, looking down almost before the words had registered. "What about her?" he snapped. Shit. Another discrepancy. He drew a careful line with the highlighter across each number, shuffled the spreadsheets, refused to meet Irvine's worried gaze.

"You know she's coming back from Trabia with Selphie?" said Irvine, his eyes steady, waiting to meet Squall's when he looked up. "You'll have to talk to her. She's been working really hard."

Irvine held his breath and waited.

"At what?" Squall snorted. "Her tan?"

Irvine swallowed his exasperation as best he could, fought to keep his voice even. "That's not fair. You know it's not fair. She's trying to make things right. I know things aren't good between you two, but-"

"You don't know anything." The words said quickly to stop Irvine but passionless, bitter. "She's working to help herself, and I understand that. It's not a problem." He looked down again, hiding as always behind the jagged fringe of his hair. "It's not."

Irvine could have walked out at that point with a hiss of exasperation; he could have ignored the whole thing and simply relayed the message. But instead he took his life in his hands - or at least, that's what it felt like.

"Isn't it?" he said, softly.

"No," Squall growled. "It isn't. I just said it isn't." He threw the pen down with a clatter, striking at the drift of papers that surrounded him. "What? What do you want me to say?"

What you really feel would be a nice start, thought Irvine, but he didn't dare say it. That made him feel cowardly and somewhat ridiculous, that he didn't have the courage to ask his friend a question. They'd stared death in the face together and won - they should be able to share anything.

Apparently not, however.

"Forget it," he said.

Squall blinked. That was easy. "Alright, see you at dinner," he said blankly, turning back to accounts paid without much thought.

"No, I mean-" Irvine clenched his fists out of pure frustration. "Are you going to let Rinoa carry on, thinking everything's okay, working herself into the ground, or are you going to tell her the truth?"

And it was out there. He'd said it. He was probably about to die, but he'd said it.

That was one up on Quistis, anyway.

"Tell her," Squall returned, deliberately lowering his voice as he shoved back the chair to stand. "I am going to tell her, so don't get too comfortable on that moral highground, Irvine." The name almost mocking, hard. "I simply thought she should be told in person," he continued, arching one brow as his usual monotone dipped into sarcasm. "I've been told people dislike hearing bad news over the phone. It's insensitive." Arms crossed he stood hipshot, feeling less defensive if not much less threatened.

Well, you fucked it up last time, Irvine almost said.

But he didn't. He took a deep breath, let the snark wash over him. "That's good," he said, trying not to sound patronising. "We're trying to help," he added. And then, "you," in case there was any doubt in Squall's mind. "We're on your side, remember?"

He watched Squall's face, willing it to soften; willing the sullen bastard to let him in, just for once.

"My side." Squall looked down, his crossed arms tightening in an almost hug. When he glanced up at Irvine, to gauge his mood or anyway to meet someone's eyes for the first time in weeks, the cowboy appeared to be sincere. Really, honestly sincere. "I get that, I just." He shrugged, felt his frown twist into a bitter smile. "I'm not really ready to talk about this."

"No," said Irvine, gently. At last, he thought, taking in the shadows in Squall's eyes. "I see that. I wouldn't bother you about it, only she'll be here soon, and..." It was painful, seeing the hurt and confusion writhing in Squall like that. More than it should. "I'm sorry. It's up to you of course, just... look. I'll be in my room for the next couple of hours. Quistis is whipping my ass something chronic about the state of my field reports. If you want to... if there's anything..." Irvine fumbled for words that would leave the door open without setting Squall off into another sulk. "I'll be available," he managed,and watched Squall carefully for his reaction.

Rinoa was coming back, sooner than Squall had really thought, and everything in him wanted to shrug and perhaps mutter 'Whatever' and pretty much guarantee that Irvine would never try again. Except, "Wait." And the hope in Irvine's eyes was almost too much, but at least he wasn't leaving. "I ... Paperwork. Do you want to, um, share my desk?" Aware as he made the offer how ridiculous it was. Realizing at the same moment that Irvine, of everyone he knew, would never care.

Irvine smiled. "Work here, you mean?" He touched the smooth polished desktop reverently, and looked at Squall with a twinkle in his eye. "Where Quistis can't find me?"

"Uh, she does know I work here," Squall murmured absently, watching the wariness disappear from Irvine's eyes with something like fascination. "But you'd probably be safe."

Irvine was tempted to laugh, but he didn't want to risk sending Squall straight back to pissed-off mode. He'd made progress here, and he didn't want to give up on it.

"Thanks," he said, cheerfully. "I'll try not to disturb you too much."

"You won't," Squall admitted, looking down at the scattered papers that had seemed so important not a half-hour before. "I'm just revising. Everything's okay, except some of these numbers don't match." He shrugged, glanced up hesitantly.

"Can I help?" Irvine offered. Not necessarily meaning the numbers - they weren't his strong point, after all. But any opportunity to offer something to Squall that wasn't going to send him into some kind of defensive rage was so rare they had to be taken advantage of.

Squall frowned down at the blur of numbers, aware that this wasn't going quite as he'd hoped. "I guess," he murmured without enthusiasm. "Thanks," he added quickly, remembering that Irvine liked to be appreciated, carefully watching the dappling sunlight on the spreadsheets instead of Irvine's expression.

And that was when it happened. Or at least, that's when Irvine thought it happened, when he looked back on it later. He remembered noticing the way the sun fell across Squall's face, making his hair look even glossier than it was, highlighting his cheekbones and bringing out a glint of silver in his eyes. For the first time there was something other than frustration, admiration and affection in Irvine's feelings when he looked at Squall, and for a moment he didn't know what to do with it.

"Just tell me what to do." His voice broke over the words, and he had to make sure he was smiling in his usual, friendly manner, not giving away anything of this new discovery.

Typical. Just when things with Squall were looking better, his subconscious had thrown a whole new spanner in the works.

Probably.

Squall raked his fingers through his hair as it fell into his eyes again. "It's nothing too serious, I don't think," he said, oblivious to Irvine's change in mood. "It's just like, here," pointing to a line on one page as Irvine crossed around the desk to peer over his shoulder. "This print-out says that we received six thousand five hundred for that job in Centra, but over here," moving his index finger to the second page. "We have a deposit record of six thousand even, and I can't find the missing five hundred on any of these." He sat down abruptly, feeling Irvine's solid presence over his shoulder.

Without thinking, Irvine rested one hand on Squall's shoulder as he squinted at the rows of figures. Squall felt warm, the sword-built muscles strong and shifting under the t-shirt he wore. His hair smelt good. Irvine blinked at the numbers, forcing himself not to lean any closer. Any closer and his lips would be touching that thick, dark hair, and he'd be lost.

"Are they maybe holding payment back for something?" he guessed wildly, hoping it didn't sound stupid. For some reason it suddenly mattered that Squall didn't think he was an idiot.

Squall shifted uneasily beneath Irvine's hand, the long rows of sums blurring so that he closed his eyes. And then it was just the dark, and Irvine's hand large and strong radiating heat that seeped through muscle and bone. He cleared his throat, forced his eyes open. "Maybe," he said gruffly, wanting to move again but not wanting to dislodge Irvine's hand. "But there should be a record if they were dissatisfied, or if they were planning to pay in installments." Irvine's fingers flexed on his shoulder as if in thought, and Squall shivered lightly. "But there's nothing."

"What about if they paid in kind? Or if it was us, if we didn't finish the job..." Irvine found himself moving his fingers, rubbing just a little. "You're awful tense, man, you want a shoulder rub?"

As easy as that, as if it was a simple matter of tight muscles and nothing to do with whatever it was that was making his cock hard in his pants.

He wanted to touch Squall so bad it hurt.

Irvine's fingers tightened in the muscle as he spoke, as though making word unconsciously into action; Squall settled back in his chair with a surprised grunt at the sheer pleasure of the touch.

"The remainder could have been paid in cash," he acknowledged, pressing back against Irvine's sniper-strong fingers involuntarily in a minute cat-like undulation. Irvine seemed to take the movement for invitation, and began to knead Squall's neck and shoulders. "Oh, yes, thank you," he breathed, feeling tension melt from him in an almost sensual rush that had him sprawling bonelessly in his chair within seconds.

"There you are then," said Irvine softly, taking a moment's satisfaction in being able to render the usually uptight Leonhart chilled out and almost purring under his hands. He could just glimpse the notch of Squall's collarbone; the bare skin called to him, made him breathless, and he couldn't resist brushing the pad of his thumb over it. Just once, like an accident.

He wanted to taste Squall's skin.

Squall felt the brief caress to the skin bared by his t-shirt and shivered, Irvine moving to dig his thumbs into the knot of corded muscle and worry beneath each shoulder blade. Squall's head lolled to the side, and he realized suddenly that he must look like a complete fool, and just as suddenly that he didn't care. "Right there," he breathed, feeling years' worth of tension bleeding away, and his head fell forward as Irvine obeyed. "Oh, yes, please." Barely aware of saying the words, just knowing that he wanted Irvine to touch him.

Irvine swallowed hard. He'd expected Squall to flinch away from the touch, and the fact that he hadn't... Irvine could read the signs. He knew when someone wanted him to do things and when they didn't.

But did he dare... Did he?

"If you don't mind taking your shirt off I could do this properly," he said, his voice coming just a little breathless.

Squall blinked, feeling his mind clear as he tensed. Irvine froze behind him, and he hadn't wanted that, hadn't meant to tense really, just hadn't expected. "Not in here," he said quickly, before Irvine could move or leave or pretend he hadn't meant it. "It's not, um, professional. We could go to my room?"

Irvine's stomach flipped.

Had Squall just asked him to go to his room?

He had. He really had.

"Sure," he said quickly, before Squall could change his mind. "Yeah, sure. If you want. You are very tense." He had to bite his lip to keep from gabbling, excitement rose in him so fast.

"Yeah," Squall agreed, making no move to stand. "Tense." Irvine's breathing had quickened, his hands flexing on Squall's shoulders, and Squall had fallen into something like his usual battle state, preternaturally calm in spite of the excitement thrumming low in his belly. "So, right." He stood, brushing against Irvine's hand as it fell away. "My room."

"Lead the way," said Irvine, barely resisting the urge to take Squall's hand in his, desparate to keep contact in case Squall changed his mind.

Whatever his mind was, Irvine reminded himself. This could all be about a massage. That could be all it was about. And that was fine, absolutely fine, only...

No. Squall wouldn't come on to him. That was more luck than he deserved.

But watching Squall as he turned towards the door, all grace and fluid movement and heated silver gaze, it was all Irvine could to not to hope.

Squall led Irvine through the overly-formal front doors to the elevator shaft, carefully ignoring his secretary's surprised gaze. He wanted this and he was going to have it, even if he wasn't entirely sure what it was. Just Irvine's easy way and bright eyes and warm hands on muscles that had been drum-tight since Rinoa told him she needed to make a place for herself.

They stepped into the empty elevator, and Irvine struggled briefly with the urge to touch, his hands already feeling the loss of those strong, shifting muscles under his fingertips. But then he caught Squall's gaze, saw a need there so deep and intense it shocked him, and the struggle was over. He reached out on pure instinct and threaded his fingers through Squall's hair to cup his skull. Trying not to kiss him, not sure whether the expression on Squall's face was excitement or just shock.

"Man, even your ears are tense," he whispered.

"Er, yeah," Squall agreed distantly, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to but hoping it involved Irvine touching him some more. He turned his head into Irvine's hand, strong fingers carding through his hair to press against his scalp, and he shivered.

"Ticklish spot?" Irvine asked with a smile, still stroking.

" Not ... exactly," he moaned, aware he was moaning and not put out by the fact at all.

Irvine's heart was racing; his fingers tingled where they touched Squall's hair.

"Squall, I-"

Squall looked up at him with heated, half-lidded eyes, and Irvine was lost. His mouth was on Squall's in a second, his arm was around Squall's waist, tugging him close and at that moment he didn't really care if Squall killed him for it. It was worth it.

Irvine was kissing him. For a long moment Squall processed only the fact: Irvine was kissing him, dwelt on it to the exclusion of his weakened knees, without noticing that his arms had twined ivy-like about Irvine's shoulders. Kissing. His mouth opened, and Irvine pressed forward apparently determined to taste every corner and Squall found himself pinned to the wall of the elevator as it began to go down.

Squall wasn't moving away. He wasn't leaping back in horror. He hadn't hit him. Squall's mouth was moving with Irvine's, warm and welcoming, and every part of Irvine's body was singing with lust.

Squall thrust his tongue into Irvine's mouth, something finally clicking, resetting within him as though the kiss had a more direct connection to wherever the brain regulated lust, he was a bit fuzzy on the biology of it but the important realization was that kissing was like a swordfight. Not a Seifer sort of swordfight, with cheating and pain, but an elegant give and take that was at the same time filled with the potential for sex.

Irvine worked a hand inside Squall uniform, tugged aside the soft fabric of his shirt to smooth over hip and belly, resting there as Squall's muscles quivered under his touch. He kept kissing. He couldn't stop. Squall was so damn good at it, for one thing, and for another he was frightened that if they stopped Squall might change his mind. So safer not to stop, but to twine his tongue around Squall's, and drown in the perfect pressure of lips and the soft hair twining through his fingers as he cradled Squall's skull gently in one hand.

The elevator dinged softly, but Irvine was still wrapped around him and Squall had just recently realized that he wanted Irvine even closer if possible, and the discrete sound meant little against Irvine's flushed skin.

Irvine moaned softly and forced himself to drag his mouth away from Squall's. "Just three doors down the hall," he murmured, mostly to himself. "We can make it, right?" Then catching Squall's heated gaze, "before we rip each others' clothes off?"

"We have to get around the fountain," Squall protested, darting a quick, assessing glare to the sporadic clumps of cadets and SeeDs dotting the main entry, almost panting with need. "Cut left on three, got it?"

"Right with you," Irvine said, acutely aware that his hand was shaking as it slipped from Squall's waist. It was a good thing Squall wasn't asking him to follow him into battle, because he was damn sure he couldn't fire a gun straight right now.

Squall felt Irvine's hand slipping away, caught it in his own and used the link to haul the sniper through the crowded halls at a near-run. It wasn't so unusual, Squall was often in a hurry and rarely patient enough to wait for the rare companion. A scowl wouldn't have been out of place, either, but the constant weaving pace, Irvine's hand in his gripping as he determinedly forced a wolfish grin, a bubbling anticipation that wouldn't let him scowl. Irvine was laughing beside him, cadets scattering out of their way as though the fate of the world were still in his hands, and all he could feel was happy.

They finally broke into a run as they reached the dormitory block, and had barely fallen through the door to Squall's room before they started kissing again. Irvine wasn't even sure who'd started it this time, and he didn't care; all he wanted was his mouth on Squall and his hands tugging obstinate clothing out of the way to reach Squall's flesh.

Squall felt his uniform shirt rip, caught a nail on Irvine's collar in a bright flash of pain and didn't care. Irvine was warm, and making hungry little sounds and pushing him against the wall like he wanted to climb inside, and Squall pushing back because Hyne damned if he wasn't going to do this on his bed.

Irvine stumbled backwards, a twist of lust burning up his spine as Squall shoved him 'til his knees hit mattress and buckled. Not used to giving up control but damn, it felt good. He managed (at last) to get enough belts undone that he could pluck the buttons of Squall's fly open, holding his breath, hesitating for a moment before he plunged his hand inside to circle around the hot, hard length waiting for him.

Squall forgot everything he'd been doing, barely felt his fingers lose their grip on Irvine's vest, barely felt his own knees buckle. He groaned, lost his grip on the visual, fell forward across Irvine's straining hips with only his trembling arms to hold him up. Irvine made some soft, pleased sound and Squall thrust into his hand in an almost direct response.

"Gods, you feel so..." Irvine lost the words, his fingers tingling where they touched Squall's smooth flesh. He moved his fist over Squall's cock long and steady, with a killer twist at the end of every stroke that made Squall gasp, his eyes sparking, body arching in startled pleasure.

Squall couldn't think, could barely breathe really and his hands trembled uselessly on Irvine's shoulders, but if there were something inherently unfair in the situation Squall was far beyond caring, gasping harshly into the crook of Irvine's shoulder, pushing desperately into Irvine's strong-fingered hand.

" That good?" Irvine asked, not expecting an answer to such a redundant question, as Squall's head dropped back, hair scrubbing against the pillow, his neck deliciously exposed for Irvine to kiss and lick. He jerked him harder, faster, taking his cues from the urgent rock of Squall's hips and the rapid panting of his breath. Squall was making little grunting noises that vibrated through his throat to Irvine's lips, his fingers clutching Irvine's upper arms, hanging on as if he were frightened of falling.

Squall had fallen apart, or perhaps was in the process of falling as Irvine tongued the roof of his mouth and rubbed a palm over the head of his cock, the pleasure almost too much to feel all at once. He couldn't see, Irvine heavy and warm on top of him thrusting a counterpoint to his own movements that was far better than any dance, and maybe he'd forgotten to breathe because the world was just beginning to sparkle white when he came.

"That's it," Irvine murmured, "oh, Hyne, that's it..." and Irvine was scooting down, kissing rapidly down Squall's chest, not caring when his face was splattered with come, rubbing his nose along the slick length of Squall's cock before tonguing the slit, drinking it down, drowning himself in sperm, and finally engulfing the throbbing head of Squall's dick and gulping down the last few spurts.

Squall came up off the bed with a shout, legs rigid straining his hips into Irvine's hold and it almost hurt and "Oh Hyne, oh Irvine, I" and spent, done he fell back onto the sheets, panting hoarsely, Irvine's mouth gentling around his softening cock. For a series of long moments Squall could only stare down at Irvine with something like wonder.

Irvine raised his head; smeared the come off his cheeks with the back of one hand. There was some in his hair, a litte on his nose that he'd missed. He looked up at Squall and smiled, a wide, sexy smile, mouth crooked at one end and eyes still heavy with lust.

Squall smiled back, helpless to do anything else, ducking his head a bit shyly to hide behind his fringe.

"Hey," said Irvine, softly, and shimmied up Squall's body to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. "You okay?"

"Yes?" Barely got the word out, suddenly realizing that this wouldn't be as simple as he'd halfway hoped. Irvine's arms went about him, and he tensed his way into the embrace, still not able to look up.

Irvine didn't say anything, just stroked his hair and his back, as if he were waiting for something.

Squall just lay there for a bit, enjoying the unaccustomed feel of being petted like a cat. He'd never thought of himself as a cat, but there seemed to be definite advantages. "Is this ..." The words slipping out of his contented haze. "Okay?"

Irvine made a noise deep in his throat that sounded halfway between a purr and a chuckle. "Oh yeah," he said, dropping a kiss to Squall's head. "A bit of a shock, but yeah." And another. "Good, even." And he nuzzled into Squall's hair, fingers still moving against his scalp. "Very."

"So, unexpected," Squall murmured, tilting his head to encourage Irvine's soft movements. "But good." As though trying to understand.

"Yeah. Wasn't what I was planning when I came to your office, but..." Irvine settled, cuddling him, obviously not planning on running off any time soon. "Seemed to work out good."

Squall stiffened, almost unable to stop the move. "What were you planning, then?" Unable to stop the welling suspicion that he knew Irvine didn't deserve, but cold inside.

Irvine snuggled into his neck. "Damned if I can remember," he said, and Squall felt him smile into his skin.

Squall drew a shaky breath, released. He pressed his cheek against Irvine's hair. "Sorry," he whispered.

"What for?" Irvine pressed warm kisses into his skin, fingers still stroking his hair.

Squall kind of shrugged, displacing Irvine's fingers but the cowboy simply began kneading at the tendons in his neck, not showing any sign of discouragement. "Snapping, I guess," Squall said, glancing at Irvine's easy smile. "I just don't. I mean." And sigh and give up.

"Don't worry about it. Man, you're in knots again already. Here, roll over onto your front and I'll do this properly. Got any oil?"

"Oil? Irvine, I don't," but Irvine was already coaxing him over onto his stomach, and his muscles already knew the strength in those long fingers, and suddenly he was saying, "There's some hand lotion, over beside my gunblade case."

"That'll do," said Irvine happily, and for a moment Squall was left bereft as Irvine went to fetch the bottle, poured out a generous handfull. "Here." He popped a pillow under Squall's head, swinging one long leg over his prone form, the lotion making wet smacking noises as Irvine warmed it between his palms. "Just relax as much as you can. Try not to think too hard." And his hands began to move over the knotted ropes of muscle and sinew over Squall's back. Slow. Firm. Expert.

Squall melted. Or anyway he was fairly certain he'd melted but didn't think too hard on the matter, as Irvine had told him to relax. Fingers pressing hard, kneading into the tight-twined muscle of his shoulders, catching that knot beneath his left shoulder-blade that bothered him perpetually, sliding in smooth strokes down either side of his spine. Irvine's weight straddling his hips was warm, familiar, his hands somehow more intimate this way than when they'd been having sex. Squall sighed, groaned low in his throat as Irvine came back to that one knot, and felt Irvine hardening against him.

Squall pressed a wicked grin into the pillow, moaned again.

"That's it," Irvine soothed, returning again to Squall's shoulder. "You should have this done regularly. Tension like that's a real hazard for gunbladers. You might," and Squall felt soft lips and tongue and breath brush his skin in the place that ached and twitched under Irvine's ministrations, "seize up altogether. That would never do."

"Not," Squall gasped, "If you keep this up."

Irvine gave a little chuckle. "Oh baby," he purred. "I can keep it up all night."

Squall didn't really hear the words, forgot that he was supposed to be teasing Irvine, because right then Irvine's fingers worked something in the center of the knot and right then and all at once that stored-up tension released.

"Woah. That's it. Shhh..." Irvine soothed, and smoothed Squall's muscles through the sob and the shudder that wracked his body. "Okay, babe... okay... just let it go."

Didn't know he was sobbing for air, Irvine talking him down in that low drawl until there was nothing left of the pain, nothing but pleasure and the warm hands still holding him together and a purr vibrating in his throat.

"Oh Hyne," he whispered when he could breathe again.

Irvine kept stroking, a tear rolling down his nose to splash onto Squall's skin. Often got him that way, massage, like you were taking on the other person's pain, sucking it up your arms and into your self. Processed by proxy. He leaned down and kissed the tear away, closing his eyes tight in an attempt to dam the cascade that threatened to spill from them. He cleared his throat. "That's better," he whispered. "You okay?"

"Mm." Just a little sound, an affirmation. "Better than," he whispered.

Irvine's fingers were gentle now, just brushing the skin, and after a while Squall realised his lips were brushing too, up and down the curve of Squall's spine, soft hair tickling his back.

"I'll fall asleep," Squall whispered in warning, warmth already soaking through muscle to bone.

"That's okay. Can I, um..." the fingers hesitated in their soft sweep of Squall's spine, "stay?"

"Mm." Squall's back arched into the touch. "Keep doing that and you can stay forever."

Irvine felt a tingle up his spine. "Ah, you say that now," he said lightly, "but you might change your mind after a night squashed up in a Balamb bed. I'll try to be good but I should warn you I wriggle." Still stroking Squall's skin, dropping a kiss onto his shoulder.

"Wriggle," Squall repeated, the word a live sensuous thing in his throaty murmur. Irvine's fingers stopped, and Squall hummed a low protest. Didn't want to stop. Didn't want to have to think about it. He blinked.

"I won't change my mind, Irvine." He was certain now, even with Irvine's hands warm and palm-down on both shoulderblades, waiting. "I, ah. You could stay."

"I'd like that." Irvine's voice low and throaty, serious. And then, lighter: "So, d'you want to get your pants off? You don't sleep in all those belts, do you?"

Squall swallowed a laugh. "No. Not usually." Arched his back again, and levered up on his elbows to look over his left shoulder. "You could give me a hand."

Irvine waggled his eyebrows. "That way danger lies." But nonetheless he shoved Squall's hip gently, encouraging him onto his side, and settled into a lot of unbuckling. Fingers lingering far too long, stroking metal, toying with the slightly twisted tongue of leather.

Squall had been teasing, mostly, but then Irvine was licking the jointure between hip and thigh, and he groaned, bucked, tried to kick his pants off over suddenly clumsy feet. Couldn't believe he was wanting again, almost hard again, Irvine's hair brushing over his cock as he moved lower.

"Oh my," Irvine murmured, his lips vibrating against Squall's thigh. "You mind if I take a few things off too? Only I'm really hot all of a sudden. And oh, fuck, you smell good."

"You, too," Squall murmured. "Good. Smell, I mean."

Irvine laughed at him gently, and sat back to work his jeans down over his spread thighs. Squall turned onto one elbow to watch, unaware that he was smiling.

Irvine moved with the grace of a cat, sliding easily out of his clothes, completely unselfconsciously. He seemed so relaxed, so at home in his own beautiful golden skin. And yet when Squall's eyes glanced up Irvine's body from where his not unimpressive, eager cock jutted out from its nest of hair, his cheeks were faintly flushed, and his smile was a slightly nervous version of the usual cocky grin. "Like what you see?" he said, and it obviously mattered to him whether Squall did or not.

"Yes," Squall returned bluntly, not really even hearing the question. His tongue flickered out to touch his lower lip briefly, and he wriggled impatiently against the mattress. Irvine was still looking at him, though, and not pulling down his jeans, and Squall paused, remembering Irvine's words. "Do you?"

A wide grin spread across Irvine's face. "Oh yeah," he said, and curled his fingers around his own stiff cock, gave it an affectionate stroke. "See? I have proof. And that's before I get to see your ass."

Squall smiled. "So, you want to see my ass?"

"Hyne, yes," Irvine growled. "Among other things."

Squall had to grin at that, wriggled up a little nearer Irvine's hands. "You could help me out," he said, smirking though unaware of it.

Irvine stared for a moment at the absolute delight of Squall wiggling his ass at him. Wondering if he had any idea how sexy and unrepressed he looked. Adorable. "Well, if you insist," he muttered, and took the waistband of Squall's pants in a firm clutch and tugged them down.

He kissed the curve of Squall's ass as he went. Soft lips teasing the downy hairs. Squall gasped at the unexpected feeling, reared up and groaned as his cock brushed against the sheets.

Irvine snaked a hand underneath as Squall arched, giving his hard flesh more than just sheets to rub against. He licked a line up Squall's spine, settled at his neck and nuzzled the soft hair there, his heart pounding almost in time with the pulse of Squall's cock in his hand.

"That good?" he purred. "Tell me how you like it."

"Love this, this is good," Squall gasped. "Just a, mm, harder, please." Lost his voice as Irvine's fingers tightened obediently, Squall's arm flailing out, searching for something to hold onto.

Irvine crawled onto the bed behind him, shoving Squall's legs further apart with one knee, still arched over Squall's back, licking bone-sharp shoulder blades as his cock nestled in the valley of Squall's ass. "This okay?" He gave Squall's length a little squeeze.

Squall sucked in a surprised breath. "Okay, yeah, whatever," he garbled out, not listening to his own reply because Irvine was, god, Squall didn't even know what to call it but he could feel it all down his spine like a shiver. "Just more, now?"

Irvine gave a little chuckle. "Impatient," he observed, but obediently gave Squall's length a few serious strokes. "I've gotta ask, babe," he whispered, and darted his tongue out to tease Squall's ear. "You ever been fucked before?"

Squall raised an eyebrow. "Metaphorically?" he said wryly, the effect only slightly marred by his rapid panting breaths.

Irvine grinned. "Ah. Well, in that case, let's keep this simple, Commander. You got any elixir?"

"Yeah, there's some in the fridge," Squall said slowly. "Why?"

"Because it feels good," said Irvine. "Trust me. I'm not going to do anything too..." His voice tailed off as he disappeared across the room. "Ah. Perfect."

"It's okay that it's cold?" Squall asked, maybe a little nervous though he'd never admit it. "That doesn't matter for ... whatever?"

"It's okay. I'll warm it up a little. Don't want to freeze your ass off." There was a wet smacking noise as Irvine splashed the elixir between his palms. Squall's fears must have shown on his face, at least a little, because just as Irvine was advancing on him with rainbow-slicked hands, he paused. "Hey," Irvine said, softly. "It's okay. I'm not gonna do anything rash. Just," and he wiggled his fingers, "explore a bit. That okay?" And before Squall had a chance to answer he was kissed, slow and breathtaking, and Irvine had somehow got exlixir on his tongue and fed it to him, soothing fizzy and tasting like sherbet.

Squall opened to the kiss, and swallowed without really meaning to. A rush of rather fizzy well-being slid to his very center, and when Irvine rolled him onto his side he didn't feel much beyond the spreading warmth.

"You're doing good," Irvine was saying, soft and low like gentling a chocobo. Squall just hummed in response, feeling Irvine's hands smooth down his back, Irvine's fingers approaching the crease between his legs, just touching the place where his thigh met his ass, just petting that crease a little and Squall felt like he was melting.

"You like this?" Irvine's touch a little firmer now, stroking the tiny, ticklish hairs across Squall's buttocks, probing a bit into the valley between them. He was watching Squall with an amused kind of smile on his face. "Does that feel good?"

"Very." Squall was not purring. "Better than." Nope, not at all. He smiled a little to himself, and writhed once slow beneath Irvine's hands. It felt like, mmm, like being cherished. Like joy in the sparkling 'lixer soaking into his skin.

"Oh baby," Irvine murmured, and the tickle-touch found the smooth skin just behind his balls. "You're so damn ready for this..." And just when Squall was beginning to wonder what 'this' might be, Irvine's fingertip found the dimple of his asshole.

"So," Squall gasped, flinching just a little at the unexpected touch. "Ready? You think so?" And trying his absolute best to stay still because that felt, and Irvine's fingers were, oh "Hyne, do that again!"

Irvine circled gently, his eyes catching Squall's. He was smiling, eyes sparkling, the corner of his mouth twitching as he watched Squall convulse with pleasure. The tingling spread and deepened, and Squall breathed hard, chest fluttering in anticipation.

"Coming inside," said Irvine, softly. "Shouldn't hurt... tell me... if it..."

"It doesn't," Squall breathed, eyes open wide and sort of disbelieving but he hadn't thought. "It's good," with a slow, cautious writhe. "Really, really good." Irvine's knuckle scraped against that outer ring of muscle, the tips of his fingers deeper and Squall felt his eyes fluttering closed, felt like he couldn't breathe.

"And this..." Irvine's fingers twisted a little, stretched as if looking for something in particular...

Squall arched back up off the bed with a wordless shout, eyes wide, because he'd never known, no one had ever said that it felt, and Irvine caught him about the chest with one arm, holding them together on their knees and Irvine's finger still pressing lightly on "What is it?" Squall demanded, twisting for a harder touch, a more substantial repeat of his own personal Thundaga.

"Heaven," said Irvine, and pressed hard, stroking this time, fingertips either side, rubbing. "Fuck, you're beautiful." His tongue on Squall's neck, lapping up from collarbone to chin, teeth catching Squall's lower lip as a low, desperate whimper escaped his throat.

"I'm right, Irvine, don't," Squall twisted his hips, very deliberately. "Do something, I'm right there, Irvine!" Complaining now, it was too intense, right there at his center, in his very self he'd never, there was nothing like it, it was too close. "Please," he whispered, undone.

"Here," and Irvine wrapped his hand around Squall's cock, squeezed gently. "How's that?" Still pressing inside, moving back and forth, fucking him with his fingers. Rocking with him, sliding his own erection smoothly over the hard muscle of Squall's thigh.

"Oh Hyne, yes," Squall gasped, forcing his grip loose from his sheets, hearing fabric rip and not caring as he found Irvine's hand around his cock, joined it in stroking there. "I think I'm ready," he said unsteadily, voice a little breathy with too much sensation.

Irvine kissed him, fingers still now, focusing attention on tongue and lips and breath until Squall stilled a little, not squirming quite so urgently in his arms. "I'm not sure you are," he said. "Ready, I mean. I can bring you off like this, we don't have to fuck. I won't hurt you."

"No, no, no," Squall said on a rush, pushing back against Irvine's fingers just to make a point. "I, there won't, fucking, there needs to be, right now!" And Irvine was laughing at him but it didn't matter, it didn't hurt at all, just smooth-sliding Elixer-fizzed feeling.

"Okay, Commander, you asked for it." Then Irvine was wriggling around, fingers of one hand still inside Squall, moving gently, stretching, spreading the good feelings all over. He hissed as he spread elixir over his cock with his other hand, and rolled Squall over onto his back, chuckling again at the needy little noises escaping from Squall's throat.

Noises like "Please." and "Yes!" and "Right there, damnit, stop and I'll shoot you!" as Irvine scissor-slid his fingers out and eased the head of his cock against Squall's entrance.

"Tell me if it hurts. Even a little bit. I won't hurt you." Irvine looked almost fierce until Squall nodded, not really knowing what he meant, just wanting it now, and then Irvine kissed him, gently pulling one leg over his shoulder and pushing inside Squall's ass with a grunt.

And oh, it hurt, or maybe it didn't hurt at all, that encompassing feeling like a hurt too great to really feel, and he wasn't entirely sure about this yet. He made some sound, and Irvine stilled instantly, cockhead not entirely inside him but Irvine was being so careful. And took a breath, and stilled himself.

Irvine kissed Squall's knee, rubbed his cheek softly against it. "I don't think it's time yet," he said gently. Reaching down, fingertips slipping into Squall's hair, caressing his skull, the remnants of elixir making his scalp tingle. "Let's do something else this time, eh?"

"I can do this," Squall insisted, forcing out the words. Irvine's fingers running through his hair, so careful. "You wouldn't hurt me." Like saying it would make it true.

"No," said Irvine, firmly, "I won't." And he was pulling away, capturing Squall's mouth in a kiss, swallowing protest, pressing chest-to-chest as he released Squall's legs, cock pressing hard into Squall's belly.

Squall pressed up into the heavy weight, tangling his fingers into Irvine's curtaining hair and finding that his cock fit perfectly into a groove of flesh and bone at Irvine's hip. It felt like he'd failed, that same ballooning feeling in his chest, but at the same time like Irvine didn't mind, wouldn't blame him, wasn't backing away was pressing closer, a heavy sleek weight all soft, sweat-slicked skin.

"It's okay," Irvine soothed, "this is good. This is very good. Just rub, there, like that..." There was an audible fizz as Irvine poured drops of elixir between their bodies to slick both their cocks. Irvine's hips started to rock, the breath catching in his throat, a slight tremble to the hand that stroked Squall's hip.

"Irvine?" Squall moved against him, trying to help, felt him getting closer. They were both panting, smell of sweat and lust heavy in the close air. "Are you?" Gasped, clawed at Irvine's back.

"Yes, oh fuck yes..." Irvine licked his neck, warm puffs of breath caressing Squall's skin. "Nearly... are you... oh Hyne..."

The words were enough, and Squall came with a kind of desperate, shuddering ferocity, sobbing a breath with his forehead pressed into the curve of Irvine's shoulder, hips losing what little rhythm they'd had.

Irvine held him tight, limbs rigid and warmth pulsing between them, letting out a single hoarse cry as he came too.

Squall lay very still for some time, panting hoarsely and listening to Irvine's gasping breaths. They were going to stick together, he knew, once the semen spattered across bellies and thighs had dried. Still caught in Irvine's arms, Squall found that he didn't care.

His heart calmed slowly, and Irvine stirred.

"You 'kay, babe?" he murmured, fingers lazily brushing Squall's hair from his eyes. He was smiling, a huge, smug ear-to-ear grin like a huge cat.

"Are you?" Squall returned fuzzily, staring at that smile as one mesmerized, not quite able to belief but not able to look away, either. "I'm sorry I couldn't, that I-"

"Shhh." Irvine tugged affectionately at Squall's hair. "Do I look like it matters?" His eyes slowly slitting open, perfectly matching the smile.

"No," Squall said, smiling back without realizing it, suddenly just "Happy." He squirmed a little bit in Irvine's hold. "Thank you."

"The pleasure's mine, believe me." Irvine stretched, not letting go, and kissed him before settling back onto the bed. He looked set to fall asleep.

Squall watched Irvine drift off, muscles slackening and the faintest marks of worry clearing from his brow. Had to smile, and ease just a fraction closer. They would probably stick together.

But Squall found that he couldn't care, and was soon enough asleep.

~owari~