Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Sweet Like Chocolate ❯ Sweet Like Chocolate ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Sweet Like Chocolate. - KittyMeowMaxwell.

Warnings: Lemon! Just so you know. Yaoi, language, bondage - I love bondage - infidelity!! Yuri - Just a dash.

Disclaimer: I don't own Zell, Seifer, Irvine or Squall, despite the fact that Irvine has come to reside so constantly in my brain I do tend to think of him as belonging to me. I do, however, own Kayle, LuLu and Rachelle. They are mine.

Pairings: Here's one for you. It's a Seizelirvall. Yeah, you heard me. Seifer/Zell/Irvine/Squall. But, technically, that's a side-pairing. The actual pairing is Zell/OC - Kayle.

Author's Notes: Okay, I don't usually launch into explationations of my thought-processes and where the hell I get my ideas, but I feel it only fair to make a statement about this fic. It was all Hicky's fault. Blame Hicky.

We have this RP, there's four of us, and we each play one of the FF8's four hottest men. I'm Irvine. (On that note - for crying out loud! He's an uke I tell you! A big-time bottom! Sub! How can someone that girly be a top?! Anyway.) Turns out Irvine has this really jaded past (I made this shit up for the RP) where he was modelling for this guy called Kayle who pretty much fucked him over in more ways than the way where you get happy.

Anyway, Zell found out Irvine had been a model, and because he's an exhibitionist to an astronomical degree, he decided it'd be fun for him and Irvine to go have naughty pictures. (Oh, yeah. Irvine was modelling porn, not jeans or underwear.) While they were there, and despite Irvine's constant repetitions of how much he hated Kayle, Zell got a serious case of lust. We played it off in the RP. Zell never slept with Kayle, but when Hicky's birthday rolled around, guess what she asked for? Yeah, you guessed it. Zell/Kayle. So, here it is. Zeyle. Hey... that's actually a cool word/name...

Oh! And Xell... is Zell's clone... just don't... even ask... because that was whack RP that couple of weeks...

------

Even as he slipped out from behind Irvine, Zell had no idea why in Hyne's name he was doing it. The sharpshooter stirred, as did Seifer on the other side of the bed, and Squall murmured sleepy disapproval as Irvine's leg, previously slung over he and Seifer, slipped free. Zell's heart skipped a beat, not only for fear of being caught, but also because they were so breathtaking. It still amazed him that things had fallen out as they had, but he was so thankful for it. For them.

Irvine whimpered slightly and shivered, pressing closer against Squall's front, but he stilled, relaxing, when Seifer's hand came across to his hip. Even sleeping, the blonde gunbladist was compelled to do everything he could to make the other three's every moment a good one.

Zell smiled gently and tucked the blankets tight around the sharpshooter, achingly, beautifully, tenderly amused when that red head burrowed under them and sought out Squall's arm to rest on. The fighter smiled a final time, slipped into his clothes, and headed for the door.

"Chickie..."

He froze, hiding a wince, and looked over to meet shadowed eyes which he knew to be a stunning shade of green.

"Seifer..."

"Where the fuck are you going?" Seifer's voice was a whisper, but dangerous for all that, and Squall ducked his head, fighting wakefulness.

Zell floundered a minute, then said the first word that came to mind.

"Mission."

"What?" Seifer frowned and started to move, but Irvine made a low sound of pleading and he stilled.

"Cid. He... I can't tell you. It's a secret. He spoke to me a couple days ago."

"You didn't say anything." Seifer's hand stroked the rise of Irvine's hip, soothing him back into a deeper sleep.

"I wasn't allowed."

"It's half-past three in the morning."

"I told you, it's... it's top secret... You know I'd tell you if I could. Please, Seifer. Please? You'll wake our subs," A slight grin flashed across his face at that. "And Irvine has a lecture to give tomorrow, remember?"

Of course Seifer would remember. Irvine had been stressing himself out over it to the point where the very reason why the other three had pinned him down and loved him to exhaustion (aside from the fact that they all found each other irresistable anyway) was so he would sleep and be rested for the presentation.

Seifer showed his teeth, displeased, but again when he tried to move there was a soft noise of complaint, this time from Squall.

"You just be careful, Fly Boy," the blonde gunbladist warned, putting Irvine's accent to the nick name with great exagerration.

Zell grinned.

"He'll kill you if he hears you making fun of him like that."

Seifer matched the grin, this time mimicking the sharpshooter right through.

"He, like, has heard me. Pisses him off no end, which, like, makes the wantin' of me even stronger."

The fighter chuckled lowly, shaking his head.

"You're evil, Buttercup. I'll see you some time tomorrow."

And with that, he slipped out before Seifer unwittingly talked him out of what he was going to do.

Seifer watched the closed door for a long while, then he sighed and settled back down, certain he was missing something but unable to put a finger on it.

------

((AN: Sorry to interrupt, but I just need to say real quick that the term "artist" refers to Rachelle - she's a makeup artist - and the term "costumer" refers to Lulu - because that's what she does. She dresses Kayle's models... in clothing they will invariably take off during the course of the shoot. Oh! And if you can't work out what Rachelle is saying... well, don't worry. Nor can I half the time.))

Lulu stirred slightly to something she couldn't name, grumbled, and burrowed deeper into Rachelle's arms. The artist made no sound, but her embrace tightened and Lulu smiled in her half-sleep, sighing happily before letting herself begin to drift off again. She found she was stirred again in what could have only been two or three minutes, but still couldn't fathom what was bothering her. She sat up, holding one of the many soft blankets that covered the bed to her naked body. Rachelle felt the cold, even with Lulu by her side, hence all the blankets of various hues.

The costumer blinked owlishly into the half-light cast by the gentle glow of Estharii prosperity through the window and pushed blue hair out of her eyes, head cocked slightly.

"Lu...?"

Lulu glanced down and back, putting out a soothing hand.

"Go back to sleep," she murmured.

"Nae. Whaet aere ye daein', baebe?" the other woman wondered, also sitting up, though she made no move to cover her nakedness, but let the blankets pool in her lap. Goosebumps rose instantly on her bronzed skin, though it was only slightly cold.

"I... I don't even know. I'm trying to work out what woke me."

"Laey baek daen aend waerm aep ye laever, Beautaefael," Rachelle suggested in a voice gone slightly husky at watching Lulu's pale skin bathed in blue.

Lulu rolled her eyes, but she was obviously amused.

"Is that all you think about?"

"Ye're sittin' thaere naerly naekid. Aef caerse it aere."

"Is."

Rachelle chuckled.

"Aye. Caem tae mae."

"To or for...?" Lulu wondered, tilting her head coyly and batting her lashes.

"Tae first, faer laeter..."

The doorbell rang. Not their's, but that to Kayle's studio, off which their small, single-bedroom apartment had been built. Lulu flinched in suprise and Rachelle blinked, eyes slipping to the clock by the bed to confirm that it was indeed almost four in the morning.

"Who...?" Lulu didn't finish the question, only slipped off the bed, wrapping herself in the blanket. Rachelle was quick to follow, also nabbing a blanket and heading after her lover, automatically taking hold of her hand-gun which lay always on the highest shelf of their dresser. No one should be here at this hour. Kayle would have told them if there was anyone.

They headed through their living room and kitchen out into the hall of Kayle's studio and then to the door, where the costumer called out; "What?!"

There was silence, then a voice.

"Did I wake you?"

"Nae, it's faer in thae maernin'. Aef caerse wae waern't slaepin'!" Rachelle growled.

"I - sorry. It's Zell... Can I come in?"

"Xell? What're you doing here at this hour?" Lulu wondered.

"I want to see Kayle."

"You didn't leave until one! Why didn't you just stay?!"

More silence.

"I think you're a little confused. Can you open the door...?"

Rachelle grumbled like a wounded bear, but Lulu undid the various locks and chains and opened the door.

"Oh..." she said when she saw who stood there. "What are you doing here?"

"Like I said," Zell muttered as he stepped in. "I want to see Kayle."

"Daes Irvine knaew ye aere haere...?" Rachelle wondered, eyeing him.

"No."

"Seifer?" Lulu added.

"No..."

"Squall...?" Lulu again.

"...No..."

"You're an idiot. Go on through. His place is behind the warehouse. I hope for 'Vine's sake that he never finds out..."

Zell said nothing, only headed in the direction she indicated. He knew she was right. But he desperately wanted Kayle. He lifted a hand to rap lightly on his door, and was faintly amazed when the photographer answered within within two minutes, and didn't look half-asleep. Quite the opposite, he was very alert.

Zell was fairly certain that half the reason he found himself so entinced by this man was the sheer novelty he presented. He stood just over six foot, and he possessed the very darkest eyes the fighter had ever seen. He had inky black hair that fell to brush his shoulders, and at one ear, a silver stud winked. But the feature Zell found the most interesting was the fact that Kayle's skin was the colour of chocolate. Next to Kayle, even Zell's dark tan looked pale.

"Zell," he said, brows drawing together over dark eyes with the surprised utterance of the fighter's name. "Why are you... what is it?"

Zell pressed a hand to the middle of the far-taller man's chest and pushed him backward three steps so he could enter the house and kick the door shut behind him. Satisfied they were alone, the fighter tugged the photographer sharply forward to stand toe-to-toe with him.

"You've had the fake. Want the real thing...?" he wondered, tongue peeking between white teeth in a smirk.

Both brows lifted in surprise.

"Have you been drinking...?"

"Not recently." Another smirk. "Unless you count Irvine's cum..." Zell trailed off and licked his lips slowly. That was actually a lie. He hadn't been the one to drink that particular delicacy. This time Squall had that treat. But Kayle didn't know that. And Zell did know that Kayle was thoroughlly jealous of the fact that Irvine no longer even looked twice at him.

"Oh, tell me all about it," Kayle sneered, voice caustic, then; "Why are you really here?"

"I want you."

Kayle snorted.

"You left the bed of three men for one? They'll be terribly hurt if they find out..." his voice was low and faintly amused now, and he ran a hand under the shoulder of Zell's jacket to push it off. Zell happily shrugged free of it and let Kayle peel the tight black shirt off his upper half. The open button-up shirt the photographer had on went next and Zell was pressed against the wall, a knee between his legs and a hand on his hip. The other stroked his bangs back from his forehead, only to have them fall back into his eyes, which looked daringly up at Kayle.

"Knew you wanted me..." Zell purred, then sucked in a hissing breath when two chocolate fingers ghosted over a nipple to touch the pendant around his neck.

"A dragon."

"Bahamut. Don't touch that," the fighter growled warningly. ((AN: The very first present Irvine ever gave to Zell, that pendant.))

"No...?" A smirk grew on Kayle's features and he curled three fingers around the pendant to lift it from Zell's chest.

Hands came to his shoulders, and he was the one slammed back against the wall, hard enough to hurt slightly and draw a grunt. When he tried to move, he found the hands still at his shoulders, strength enough to break the bones holding them pinned.

"I said don't touch that. Gotta hearing problem?"

"Just not hearing what I want to hear."

Zell gave an amused bark of laughter, pressing his hips against Kayle's.

"You think you're in charge here?"

"I'm always in charge."

"So am I."

"Ah. So what do we do?"

The fighter's grin grew wolfish and he tightened his grip a little, warning, showing.

"I'm a helluva lot stronger than you, Chocolate Sauce. That's what we do." He slid a hand down to tuck two fingers into Kayle's waistband, blue eyes looking up into darkest brown. "Bedroom?" he asked.

Kayle lifted his chin and said nothing.

Zell bit him. It was no soft thing. There was no gentleness to it. It was a bite. Hard. Deep. Kayle swallowed a yelp at the sharp pain beneath his left pectoral muscle and the fighter came away with blood on his upper lip. The bite throbbed to Kayle's groin and he drew his lip between his own teeth.

"Bedroom?" Zell growled this time and Kayle indicated the door with a nod. The little blonde rewarded him with a soft, if fleeting, kiss to his lips, then turned and led him to the bedroom by way of the fingers tucked in his waistband.

"Come right in," Kayle remarked wryly.

"Did I say you could speak...?" Zell wondered softly, then shoved Kayle down onto the bed. "I'll let you off this time, but don't try it again." And he crawled over the photographer, straddling his hips. Kayle's skin glistened. "Why are you up so late?"

"Not that it's any of your business." Sapphire eyes narrowed. "But I was working out."

"At four in the morning?"

"I don't get much time. Between taking photos and fucking ex's boyfriends, you know..."

"Do you want me to hurt you...?"

Kayle smirked.

"I just want you, actually."

"Then shut up."

And to emphasise that demand, Zell removed his belt, placed it between Kayle's teeth and fastened it behind his head. He heard the photographer's breathing quicken and smiled slowly, stroking a hand down his chest and smearing a little blood inthe process. He absently licked his hand clean while the other toyed with a nipple and his captive made a low sound through the leather.

"Can't really work out what Xell sees in you... You're not a very good top..." he murmured thoughtfully and smirked when Kayle glared. He shook his head slightly and ran his fingers through the photographer's hair then down to rest flat at his chest as the fighter bent, tongue slipping out to press against a pert nipple. Kayle let out a shuddering breath, fighting the moan that brewed in his chest. Then Zell took the nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing lightly over it before he suckled skillfully, his tongue still flickering down every so often to tease. The photographer turned his head aside, eyes slipping half-shut, and clamped his teeth around the leather of Zell's belt, forcing himself to breathe evenly and slowly. The power struggle continued, despite the fact that he was so obviously beaten.

Zell knew it too and he licked a path across to the other nipple to grace it with the same treatment, pleased with every hitch in Kayle's breath. One of the photographer's hands came to his lower-back and Zell arched a little against it, showing his approval, so the second came to the back of his neck. Kayle finally gave a small moan when Zell inched a hand between them and stroked it across the front of the soft pants the black man wore. His own hand slipped down to tuck beneath the waistband of Zell's shorts, but the fighter growled and touched his tongue to the bite, sending a stinging prickle through Kayle's skin. He got the message and shifted the hand upward again.

Zell slid down Kayle's body to nuzzle the growing bulge in his pants, drawing another shaking sigh from him, and smirked up his body before slowly tugging them down. He was quite delighted to find that this left Kayle utterly naked, once he had thrown the pants aside. He took the time to quickly kick his shoes and socks off, but he didn't remove his gloves, figuring they left him enough length of finger to work with.

He nuzzled the arousal presented to him, gaining a hiss, then flicked his tongue out against it, stroking it slowly upward. The photographer shuddered, hips lifting with a low moan, and his fingers twisted in the blankets. Zell pressed Kayle's hips down, smirking, and licked his lips.

"Funny. Somehow I thought you might taste like chocolate."

Kayle tried to snort, but it came out a low exhalation of need instead. He touched Zell's hair with one hand, trying to urge the fighter to do something more, but instead, he backed off, arching a brow. The photographer took his hand away, groaning a little and he was rewarded with the heat of Zell's mouth, lips hot against the tip of his arousal, then taking him deeper.

Zell's eyes slipped shut and he listened as the black man moaned, long and low, from the back of his throat. Damn, that was a good sound, even muffled by the belt... or maybe because of it. He took Kayle as deep as he could manage and the photographer's head tossed back and forth, hips fighting the hand that restrained them.

The fighter's tongue curled mercilessly around the delicacy in his mouth, rolled against it, teased at the tip when he lifted his head enough. The deep, masculine sounds issuing from behind the leather were exceedingly pleasing and he almost forgot to back off before there was no going back. Almost.

Kayle whimpered when Zell sat up, licking his lips.

"Not bad," Zell decided. "But not chocolate."

Kayle's dark eyes pleaded with him, and his skin shone darkly in the half-light. There was something about the darker skin-tone that emphasized the glistening sheen upon it. (1)

Zell licked a path back up the center of the photographer's body, pausing at his navel and then again at the hollow of his throat. Kayle swallowed against the fighter's tongue and he tensed. But Zell knew what he was planning and he shifted his weight, hands coming to pin Kayle's shoulders down before he could move.

"You want to fuck me..." Zell murmured.

Kayle's eyes flashed.

"I'm gonna fuck you."

A slow blink.

"I'm not gonna let you roll me over. I know what you're gonna do before you even think of it." He grinned. "I'm a top too. I know." He rolled his hips against Kayle's and gained a moan for his actions, so he did it again, this time moaning in time with the photographer.

"Long time since you've done this, huh...?" he purred, laying along Kayle's body and coaxing one dark leg up to bend at the knee. "Or... never?"

Kayle didn't say anything, didn't even try to speak around the belt, but he had never been the bottom before. And he knew Zell could tell. The fighter's eyes slid to the bed-side draw, then back to Kayle, who nodded slowly. A flash of white fangs, and the blonde was opening the draw and withdrawing what he needed. The cap came off and Zell coated his fingers with quick, sure movements, then guided Kayle's other leg to bend like the first. Then he knelt up and lifted the photographer's hips, touching a finger to his entrance and watching him carefully as he slipped it within.

Kayle tensed breifly, but forced himself to relax, eyes slipping shut and breath panting. Zell made a soothing sound, adding a second finger when he knew Kayle could handle it. He leaned down to kiss Kayle's lips and knew that the photographer wanted to respond. The fact that he couldn't highly amused the fighter. He put his mouth close to Kayle's ear, withdrawing his fingers and coating his arousal before lifting the photographer's hips a little higher.

"Gonna fuck you hard, Chocolate Sauce..."

Kayle whimpered like a kitten and Zell smirked.

"So hard..."

Zell slung one of those dark legs over his shoulder, the other around his waist, and began to ease inside of Kayle, who swallowed and moaned shakily, eyes tight shut and head turned to the side. The fighter watched him carefully for any signs of discomfort, always wary of hurting his lover, but there were none, and he stilled when his hips settled against Kayle's arse, giving the photographer a chance to get used to the new feeling and relax.

One of Kayle's hands came to the shoulder not occupied by his leg and squeezed gently, or rather, clutched. The fighter could feel the tension in the body beneath him and he patted Kayle's chest gently, silently reassuring him and giving him a chance to relax before his shifted his weight a little, supporting it on one hand beside the photographer's head.

"Ready...?" he murmured, glad when Kayle nodded, because he didn't think he'd have been able to hold back if the photographer had said no.

With a low growl, Zell began to move, strokes deep, hard and sure. Kayle found his rhythm quickly and arched up to meet his thrusts, eyes tight-shut and fingers flexing against the fighter's shoulder. His other hand fisted in the sheets as though his life depended on what little anchorage they could offer.

Zell didn't bother to rein himself in at all. He was a little careful at first, but when Kayle showed no signs of discomfort or pain, he let himself go, and watched the photographer go completely wild beneath him. When he wrapped a hand around Kayle's arousal and stroked in time with the thrust of his hips, the dark fingers tightened against his shoulders, and Kayle let out a deep, throaty moan of utter ecstacy.

The fighter felt the tensing of Kayle's muscles and he smirked, then moaned in response and watched the photographer arch clean off the bed with his release, crying out against the leather of his belt. Zell was seconds behind him, Kayle's release triggering his own. His hands fisted beside Kayle's head and he groaned, biting his lower lip.

Kayle's arms came around him when he dropped atop the taller man and they lay listening to their slowing breathing. Zell's eyes slipped shut a moment, then he sat up, dislodging Kayle's arms, and freed his mouth from the belt before hopping off the bed. Kayle watched him.

"Leaving already?"

Zell didn't answer, but pulling on his shorts was answer enough and Kayle smirked.

"Back to your pretty cowboy..."

"Don't talk about him," Zell said warningly. "You'll never see him without me by his side."

"You don't know him like I do."

Zell turned to Kayle and smiled self-assuredly.

"The fact that you said that only proves how wrong you are. Bye, Kayle."

------

"Seifer...?" Irvine lifted his head from the pillows, a hand going to the curve of Squall's hip automatically, and squinted through the uncertain dawn light.

The blonde sat in a shaft of red sunlight, Hyperion resting in his lap while he silently worked the blade with a whetstone. Irvine really wished he wouldn't do that naked...

"It's alright, Cowboy. Go back to sleep."

The sharpshooter blinked around.

"Where's-"

"Mission," Seifer answered before he even finished the question.

Irvine squinted at the clock. Half past six. Right.

"At this time?"

"He left at three-thirty."

"You talking about me...?"

They both looked at the door as it closed behind the fighter and Irvine smiled, though Seifer looked decidedly suspicious. Zell returned Irvine's smile and didn't react to Seifer's suspicion. He stripped and folded his clothes neatly, then crawled into bed beside the sharpshooter, reaching over to touch Squall's hair, then leaning down to kiss Irvine gently.

"I love you," he said fiercely.

"Likewise, darlin'," Irvine replied. "How'd the mission go?"

Zell shrugged, eyes dropping away from Irvine's.

"I learned stuff," was all he said, then he looked up as Seifer came to slip in behind him.

"Like what?" the blonde gunbladist wondered.

"Like that I miss you guys when I'm not with you. I love you, Seif."

Seifer arched an elegant eyebrow.

"Love you too, Chicken."

"Incase you hadn't noticed, it's not even seven yet..." came Squall's muffled voice from behind Irvine and his toussled head popped up behind the sharpshooter. His glare, however, was half-hearted.

"That means Irvine doesn't have to go for another two and a bit hours..." Seifer said calculatively.

"Seifer..." Irvine said warningly.

Squall gave a smirk that was positively evil and wrapped a hand around Irvine's pony-tail, pulling his head back to expose the column of his throat, to which Zell set with a will.

"Guys! You already did this last ni-"

Seifer swallowed his words and Zell spent the next couple of hours giving himself back to the men with whom he really belonged.

-Fin.-

(1) I'm an avid Australian Rules Football fan. (The real football, not that crap you Americans/Canadians etc call football. Not soccer, either, which the English call football. Real football. ::winks::) Anyway, I'm a one-eyed Richmond Tigers supporter and I have this favourite player, number 18, David Rodan. David's black. He's Fijian, actually, but he got his Australian Citizenship a couple years ago. He's only about two months older than me, and probably not very much taller than me. About a head, I'd say. He's one of the littlest players in the AFL.

Anyway, less hero-worship and more getting to the point. There was a match against St Kilda in the pissing rain. I kid you not, the field was a lake. So here we are (me, my Nanna and my Mum) watching this footy game, and suddenly Nanna pipes up "Hey... Rodan shines when he's wet." And it's true. He does. And when he sweats too. Obviously, all men and women shine when they're wet and/or sweating, but it's just way more obvious on a darker person. Hence the comment about Kayle. Oh, and if you're interested... David Rodan. See how much bigger than him the other players are? He makes up for it by being fast and jumping really high. I've never seen a player jump as high as David. ===> http://www.theage.com.au/ffxImage/urlpicture_id_1060454077245_2003/08/10/70 stk3,0.jpg

Author's Notes: There are actually two side-fics for this, which are in the pipeline, but stuck there at the moment. One of them is Lulu and Rachelle, so will probably never see the light of fanfiction sites. The other... is the proceedings leading to the comment that the other three had "loved Irvine to exhaustion", so, basically, a foursome. I really need to finish that... At any rate, hope you enjoyed this strange little foray into my brain.
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