Convergence [2]: Blood Roses

Woo, shorter chapter this time around. They were getting way too long.


~ 12 ~

The kitchen window wasn't on the right side of the apartment to let anything brighter than a ghost of the moon shine through it. That was why Squall was prepared to feel his way to the lightswitch once in the hall, and was surprised to see it dimly lit by offshoots of the kitchen's hazed glass fixture. Hadn't Seifer told him he would shut it off before he went?

No, no he hadn't, but Squall was certain he had intended to nonetheless. But then, he had intended to leave, too, a concept the silver lump seated at the kitchen table threw completely out of whack.

Gods, it was like he hadn't seen Seifer in a year, like he had spent that entire imagined term missing him and expecting his return three unfulfilled times a day. Like an addict to an opiate he approached, and it was easy to slide his arms over surprised shoulders, refuse to let go, close his eyes and inhale. Seifer's hands rose to cover his forearms, cool enough to draw goosebumps despite his junction. "You weren't supposed to stay," Squall scolded uselessly.

Seifer's soft retort came quickly, "You weren't supposed to come looking."

"Had no choice." Squall was far from shocked to see the newly appointed dictator of their lives spread out in front of them, open many pages past where Rinoa left off. "Zell made me."

Faltering, Seifer tightened his grip on Squall's arms for a moment. "Did he?"

"He said 'go find Seifer,' so I did."

"I'll have to send him my regards." Seifer leaned back to rest his head on Squall's shoulder, glad to have an excuse to stop reading. His ability to concentrate had dulled dramatically as he waited -- Squall had been bound to come out eventually. It just wasn't supposed to take a full hour. "So, what's your plan now that you've found me?"

Squall's lazy shrug brought Seifer's chin bobbing with it. "Thought I'd stay."

"Like that?" Seifer asked, sneering at the ceiling.

"Like this," standing with his arms draped over Seifer's shoulders from behind. Squall had a feeling it would take him a long time to get tired of it. Except, he was getting tired. That mental buzzing had already begun to dull, and it was leaving his eyelids heavy. "Pretend I'm not here."

Seifer had considered petitioning to have the central heating system bumped up a notch once or twice in the past, and he found himself ready to do so again -- Squall's warmth reminded him just how cool the air could get at night. "And to think you were ready to say you hated me." He laughed silently. "A few hours ago."

"No, I wasn't. I was pointing out that you were trying to get me to say I did." Seifer had failed twice at that now -- and he would fail if he tried it again -- though he probably didn't remember the first time.

"I wasn't trying to get you to say it, Squall."

"Then what were you trying to do?"

"Keep up with you." Seifer sighed and thumped the book shut. "Didn't know it would go so far." Squall was silent, considering, so Seifer clarified: "You weren't supposed to cry."

"I wasn't crying." Squall indignantly pulled his cheek away from where it had come to rest against the side of Seifer's neck. "My eyes watered."

"Whatever. You weren't supposed to do that either."

"Was I supposed to go down on you?"

"Hm, no." Smiling vaguely, Seifer began trailing his fingernails over Squall's arm, wrist to elbow and back, almost lightly enough to tickle. "Pleasant surprise."

"What happens if we fail?" Although Squall had been afraid to even think it earlier, the abrupt subject change came easily in Seifer's presence.

Seifer knew precisely what he meant, and was anxious to dismiss it as soon as it was uttered. "We won't. Why are you thinking about things like that?"

"Because it's possible." Because Squall looked at every angle, and several of them involved failure of the task they had accepted. It would be wrong to ignore that. He hadn't wanted to sound apprehensive -- it was merely a query for information -- but he could hear it echoing in his tone as he pressed, "So tell me."

"I haven't gotten that far." Seifer traced a finger around the winged shield emblazoned on the book's cover. "So leave it alone. We're supposed to be celebrating this, and you already sound like you're mourning it."

"Celebrating?"

"Once upon a time, back in Centra," Seifer began, sounding regretful and eager simultaneously, "You'd have multiple villages getting together for the ceremony. And then when the villages got big enough to meld together into city states, what had traditionally been days of celebration became weeks. It was a bigger deal than a marriage or winning a war, bigger than anything, with speeches and vows and the whole nine yards."

Squall took a few moments to mull over the new information. "Is that what you just read?"

Seifer nodded subtly. He had just read the summary, though he was sure the more vague facts had already been taught to him, at some point. "Today we treated it like a chore, got it over with quick, and now we're sitting around sulking. It doesn't feel right. Even back then, they knew to keep sorceress and knight away from one another the first night, but it still feels wrong, like we should be with her right now. To make up for something." He paused in case Squall wanted to say anything -- hoped he would, actually -- but all Squall did was nuzzle uncharacteristically at his neck a little. "Maybe I just didn't expect to have as hard a time as you are."

"You put your energy into convincing me," Squall continued naturally, getting the distinct impression that he was hearing his own voice from a distance, "And forgot to convince yourself."

To Seifer, that made absolutely no sense. "I've been convinced from the start," he argued.

"On the outside."

Seifer didn't answer, because he didn't know what to make of that. He'd spent the whole day absorbing information with his eyes and ears, while Squall seemed to know something he didn't despite trying to learn as little as possible. He found himself trusting that knowledge withoutn unn understanding it. "This is tiring."

"What is?" Squall mumbled.

"Thinking. And you sound like you're about to fall asleep standing up."

"I am." Squall's whisper wasn't secretive; he simply hadn't the energy to get his voicebox to vibrate. "You mind?"

"Yes." Sighing with mock frustration, Seifer unfolded Squall's arms and ducked out from between them. Forced to balance on his own feet, Squall wavered a little before righting himself with a hand on the chairback. When he opened his eyes, he found Seifer standing, facing him, and doubted he'd be able to close them again. "First time I've seen your face since this afternoon," Seifer mused, echoing Squall's thoughts. "First time you've initiated less than violent contact with me, as well."

Unsure of what Seifer was getting at, Squall voiced a more important concern: "You're not leaving, are you?"

Stupid question. Seifer moved forward, led a willing Squall backwards until his bottom hit the edge of the stove, and brushed his fingertips over a cheekbone. It was Squall who closed the gap between their mouths, inviting Seifer's tongue and accepting it with a soft sigh, relishing in the opportunity to stroke it with his own instead of being pushed aside.

Seifer's trademark hunger returned quickly, however, and they both ended up backing away quietly gasping. "Let me have you," Seifer rumbled. Squall disappointed him with a shake of his head and leaned forward for another kiss -- he liked the prospect of doing only that -- but Seifer dipped his head for Squall's throat. "Let me have you," he repeated.

"I'm all sexed out, Seifer." Squall had spent the last week having to sate two hungers with his. It didn't make sense for him not to get tired of it. And it didn't make sense to be as taken as he was by this fiery bloom he had already felt pressed to his neck what seemed a million times. "Miracle I've been able to keep up with you this long."

Seifer's syllables vibrated the cotton collar beside his mouth. "Are you saying I'm too much for you?"

Was it too much to just want to be near him? "I'm saying I think you might've wrung me dry. No cum left," but Squall's pants were already getting snug, thin without anything underneath. If Seifer looked down, he would certainly notice.

Seifer didn't allow himself to smile until he made sure Squall was doing so with at least his eyes. "You lie."

"Only if you take it literally." Squall shook his head once to displace the hair skewing his vision, "Sleeping with you is tiring."

That hadn't been meant as an insult, but it hadn't been a compliment, either. Seifer's brow furrowed. "Only because you fight me."

"Only because you fight me." Grey eyes narrowed a little.

"Well..." Clicking his tongue as though ashamed of Squall for his retort, Seifer brushed his thumb over the brunette's cheek, urging that gaze to stay put on his own. "What if I said this isn't about conquest?"

"I would tell you your plan to keep it purely to fucking had gone out the window."

Seifer laughed at him, a tad incredulous. "And I'd say that happened a long time ago. Then I'd start wondering if it had ever been any different."

Squall rolled his eyes. "That's Rinoa talking, not you." As far as he was concerned, it had just been confirmed that Seifer was going as loopy as he was over the change. They needed to sleep. Badly.

"Maybe." Seifer paused to ponder over another kiss. "That excuse opens a lot of doors for me, you know."

Cocking an eyebrow, Squall allowed his curiosity to get the best of him. "What kind of doors?"

The blond hesitated, uncertain Squall would understand what he had to say. Oh, to hell with it. "The kind of doors that let me say I feel like I'm in love right now."

"I think it's time for bed." Squall slammed his eyes shut to hide their compulsion to cross. "It'll go away tomorrow."

"Judging by the way you greeted me at the table," Seifer continued, "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Don't you?"

Squall winced. He didn't want to hear this. It was stupid. And that busy drugged feeling was starting to come back. "I don't know, I guess --"

"Pretend with me." Seifer's hanging hand rose to mirror his other, his thumbs almost feverish as they danced over Squall's blush. Now that this was out in the open, he was downright antsy. "Just tonight. We'll pretend it's real, and go to sleep, and probably wake up even more normal than we would have without it because we'd gotten it out of our systems." Squall's mouth had turned from a straight line to an uncomfortable frown while Seifer spoke. "You're taking this far too seriously, I think."

"You shouldn't have brought it up," Squall countered bitterly. Seifer dropped his hands.

"If you hate the idea so much, I can leave."

Squall's eyes flicked open and quickly slitted. "That's still how you react to not getting your own way? Manipulating?"

"Always."

The words came sharp, painful like burrs before they emerged, but Squall didn't have another option: "Go ahead, then. Leave."

Seifer swore silently. "Congratulations."

"For what?"

"Calling my bluff."

Squall almost smirked. "You're easy to read."

"Only because I let you read me."

"Then why'd you make the threat in the first place?"

"No idea."

All of a sudden, they were both smiling -- Squall much more subtly, but it was there -- and all of a sudden, their faces had relaxed to make room for the kiss that had developed. All of a sudden, Squall was pushing the coat from Seifer's shoulders and the room wasn't so cold when it fell to the floor.

Squall wanted to pretend. That was kind of what he'd wanted from the start, whether the equation included sex or not. What he didn't want was to talk about it. Seifer lifted him onto the stove, and he curled his fingers around the cool coiled burners on either side of him for balance before he remembered he had something better to busy them with -- namely, unbuttoning Seifer's shirt.

At the same time, it might have been good form on Seifer's part to say something. If he hadn't, Squall's brain might have started throwing questions at him, like whether the joy these new soft touches were bringing him and the passion with which he needed them even was pretend. Seifer broke away from his mouth for the first time to offer, "Bedroom."

"No." Squall prevented some kind of pointless question with a pair of fingers over Seifer's mouth, pulling at his lip in a way that should have been funny. "Zell's sleeping. Sofa."

The statement wasn't necessarily true. They had been using nighttime volume in all their conversing, but Zell did have that thing about sleeping with company. If they went in there, Zell would be awake and would want to join in, and although the prospect was a turn-on (probably because Squall knew he would be the one at the brunt of Zell's affections), he didn't want Zell right now.

Seifer lifted him from his seat and began their way to the living room, his "Heavier than you look," comment -- not to mention the stirring feeling of his hands gripping Squall's bottom to hold him up -- drowning out the bit of guilt he felt for his thoughts. He rewarded Seifer for his trouble with a mixture of light biting and kissing just above his collarbone, and didn't stop until his back had been placed atop leather seat cushions.

Just tonight. Tonight, they were pretending, and Zell had sent him out anyway. They'd already done this more times than Squall had the presence of mind to count, just like this, hadn't they? What did Zell expect would happen? "Seifer?"

Seifer was occupied with shrugging out of the coarse folds of his shirt, the mere few feet between them too far for either of their liking. Squall beckoned him with a hand on his thigh, and didn't speak again until Seifer crouched over him, his ear close by and his knees between the more inviting than usual V of Squall's thighs. "Remember how I said I want you to spend time alone with Zell?" Seifer's acknowledging sound whispered across Squall's hair. "Do it soon. Be good to him. And not just because I'm asking."

"Then give me an opportunity," Seifer replied to what he feared was becoming rhetoric. He couldn't give up his habit of scorekeeping, and as it stood now, he was in Zell's debt. Payback was a given, whatever form it came in.

"I'm going to go visit with Ellone tomorrow."

"Good. It's done." So let's not talk about him again, Seifer wanted to add, because Zell was a distraction -- and one only for Squall, as Seifer had actually forgotten for a moment that they didn't have the apartment to themselves. Squall was consuming him. He couldn't help that.

The skin beneath his hands screamed reborn virgin, satin over steel, as he divested Squall of his tee, everything laid out to be discovered simply because he hadn't bothered to explore it before. Squall shuddered like Seifer’s touch was just as new when he attentively thumbed a nipple, and as soon as he had the thought, Seifer wished he hadn't.

Even if Squall had wanted it that first time, Seifer had used tricks and physical force to get him to admit it -- everything in his arsenal -- and the memory sunk a shame he shouldn't logically have been feeling into some deep part of his brain. What a way for Squall to have given up his body for the first time. Maybe that was why he had been so fixed on getting Squall to declare hatred -- because he couldn't understand why he didn't feel it.

Thank Hyne for second chances. If Seifer was doing everything else right on the second try, he could right this, too.

"Stop."

Seifer blinked. "What?"

Squall's fingers played up one cheek, breezing over light stubble in a way that was unfamiliar and warm. "Whatever you're thinking about." Whatever it was that had gotten Seifer's hands to still. "You're not the only one that feels weird. Don't get tied up in it."

Seifer had to admit he hadn't sounded like himself in his head -- so he shook it a few times and eased his hands beneath Squall's lower back, lifting up simply for the sake of watching him arch. "I want to feel you," he blurted softly, and Squall didn't say anything because when he didn't have parrying words for Seifer he tended not to have any at all. He settled on smoothing his hands up Seifer's forearms until he could go no further without sitting up, and then stilled, waiting, Seifer's apparent reluctance honing his senses sharper by the second.

But Seifer wasn't being reluctant, just patient, mapping hazy light and deep shadow with his eyes before doing the same with his hands. His fingertips counted every rib, every ripple, every slight catch of Squall's breath, and then started over again with his palms in tow. Squall couldn't believe how sensitive he had become -- he was made of buttons tonight, crowded so closely that Seifer wouldn't have been able to avoid pushing them if he tried.

Seifer knew Squall's head inside out, and had used that knowledge to seduce with words and games and it worked, but he didn't know this, he'd never spent the time required to learn. Without the option to compete, touch was all he had left to use. Know your enemy, something told him, knowledge is power, but Squall wasn't his enemy, and he wasn't looking for power tonight. He didn't know where that left him, but it was somewhere he was willing to stay, for now. Squall had said 'none we don't both want to play,' not 'none at all,' so it was all right.

Judging by carefully observed reactions, Squall's right nipple was less sensitive than his left, and although Seifer wondered why, he didn't ask. His answer was found when Squall shifted and revealed that a pale scar swept thinly across it, almost reaching his right underarm before it ended. Nearly invisible now, but it must have killed when he got it. "Is this one of mine?" Seifer asked impulsively, tracing the length of it with a pair of fingertips.

Squall looked down. "I don't remember." He paused to ponder, his eyes closed. "I don't think so. Why are you sitting so far away?"

"Because I'd just have to sit up again to get your pants off." It felt good to smile so earnestly -- they wouldn't have appeared far apart at all to an observer. "Ready for me to venture past the beltline?"

Squall shot him a sarcastic look, wondering just when he had started bothering with formalities. "What do you think?"

Seifer knew, of course. He bowed to press his lips to the skin below Squall's navel, evoking tremors, and palmed the warm weight of Squall's growing arousal as he drew the fastenings downward, the sound magnified in the flat's quiet calm. The vibration of it made Squall chew on the inside of his cheek, and he deepened his breaths instead of vocalizing. He would enjoy his own calm while it lasted.

After pushing the folds of cloth out of his way, Seifer only stayed long enough to sample the moisture at the tip of Squall's erection with a single swipe of his tongue. It was enough, however, for Squall to start his name in a whisper and finish it in a groan that didn't end until long after Seifer had straightened. "Again," Seifer muttered, sounding composed despite the way the sound of it had made him shudder.

But Squall merely mouthed it, leaving Seifer unsatisfied. Squall's lashes lifted when Seifer took his hand -- Seifer's were just large enough to fully eclipse his in shadow -- and fell again when that larger one curled it around his length. He didn't think before he began the rhythm so natural to him; Seifer had requested this, and he would get it.

"Again," Seifer repeated as he began freeing Squall's thighs from the coarse fabric of his pants in short tugs. He would have been able to get this over with faster if he could see what he was doing, but his eyes were presently glued on Squall, listening hard in Squall's silence.

The hem was halfway to Squall's knees by the time Seifer found that it hadn't been necessary to strain, his fingertips jumping at the sound. "Seifer..." Squall took a breath, trying not to give in to everything his hand wanted to do, "Hurry."

Seifer shucked Squall's pants from his shins and forgot them, wasting no time in getting to work on his own clothing with shamefully quivering fingers. Squall could hear the request in the quiet breaths past his own and gifted Seifer with the sound of his name two more times before blunt fingertips began raking up his thighs.

Noticing Squall's intent to stop now that the task of undressing was completed, Seifer urged, "Make yourself come for me," and just barely bit down on his 'please.' There wasn't a chance he'd take over now that he had this stretched out in front of him. Although it wasn't enough to make him forget his own need, nor his own nudity, he sure was willing to ignore both. "You have to. We don't have any --"

"I know," Squall confirmed, unsurprised that Seifer didn't want to pass up the show. As long as Seifer's hands stayed on him, somewhere, he would be fine. Those fingertips pushed around his hipbones and crept beneath him to claw at his bottom, and he drove back into their pressure with a soft moan. Seifer took that and went with it, bringing a rhythm to Squall's hips that had him working a little faster.

"Look at me." Seifer bit his lip, and Squall opened his eyes in time to see it whiten and fade. Only a hint of the apprehension he should have been feeling touched him as he continued to stare at Seifer's mouth, not quite willing to meet the scrutiny of his eyes. Then Seifer caught onto him and ducked right into his stare. Squall didn't mind the trap, especially since Seifer only held him there for a moment at a time, between skims of the rest of his body and lingering glances at the movement between his legs.

Squall hadn't realized how lost he was in watching Seifer watch him until light pressure dimpled his bottom lip, a finger whose approach he had been blind to. He parted his lips, his gasps quick and drying in passing, but Seifer 't t't take the invitation, instead tickling along where the surface was still slick. He was playing, captivation bringing his face youth he never should have lost in the first place, and Squall became determined to burn this image of him into his eyes. He would probably never see it again.

It was hard to stay still -- Squall wanted to clench his teeth, purse his lips, something to keep the sounds from coming but he wouldn't when Seifer was holding him there so effortlessly, and his own gratifying grip tightened with the frustration of it. Quickly he flicked out his tongue and did some of his own playing, curling around the digit as it finally eased inward, regretting his own sigh as he was positive it drowned out one of Seifer's. Seifer’s yearning to devour Squall whole reached its peak.

Bending down, he veered from his initial path and went for the inside of a thigh, softly kissing at delicate skin as though trying to coax it into his mouth with his tongue. He was briefly bitten in return -- unintentional. Squall didn’t try to apologize for it, because he didn’t have to. Seifer refrained from biting back without even recognizing that that was what he would normally have done.

He slid upwards until the backs of Squall’s kneading fingers rhythmically brushed his ear, and took back his hand. Squall immediately lifted his hips, crushing the wet Seifer had left all over his lips and chin, and drove the fingers of his free hand into Seifer's hair, starving for more touch. This would bring him over -- he was almost there with anticipation alone -- so he groaned a wordless warning, and Seifer propped himself up with one elbow, remaining low enough for Squall to play with the locks behind his ear.

Squall watched him lick his lips, watched him inhale with a slow blink, and his own captivation brought back the element of surprise. He couldn't remember feeling Seifer's hand approach, but there it was, teasing and practically obliging him to impale himself on his own. Just before he was about to, Seifer reted ted his initiative and slid inside, only a little, but it brought Squall bucking downwards for more. "Seifer... gods, Ss --" His ramble was lost as Seifer planted a kiss on his bobbing knuckles, sitting up with milliseconds to spare before Squall came.

Seifer lost the presence of mind to do anything but watch Squall's chin snap up, his spine curl, his face hidden in the seconds that followed by the thumb he bit to keep himself from crying out anything louder than a whimper. It wasn't until Squall relaxed again, flushed bright and looking invitingly mussed, that Seifer could tear his eyes downward and remember that he was supposed to catch the wet mess spreading down Squall's fingers for his use.

Orgasm left Squall with a foreign compulsion for more, his erection barely softening as his hold fell limp. Seifer's fingertip disappeared, the world was jostled, and a warm shadow fell over him, countered by a flurry of breath-cooled kisses on his mouth. He moved easily with Seifer and nestled on his side against the plush seatback with Seifer comfortably pinning one of his knees beneath his waist.

They kissed without thinking of breaking it, slick fingers lacing between them in mimicry of their tongues, gradually down and around until both feathered at Squall's entrance in a lazy tangle. Seifer was the first to enter, making Squall's mouth still in a momentary gasp before he followed. Even if it had been painful Squall wouldn't have stopped, not when it felt so natural to moisten his own insides right along with someone else's -- with Seifer's -- presence twisting along with him, either mirroring him or being mirrored, it was impossible to tell. He realized in the middle of this just how tight he was, just how much Seifer was going to love this. He realized, with a bit of a shock, that making Seifer feel good -- not out of regret or spite -- was becoming his greatest concern.

As soon as he could call himself technically ready, Squall grasped at Seifer's erection with what wetness he still held, and Seifer thrust up into his hand. Squall turned over to efficiency, afraid to pleasure Seifer too much. Seifer leaned back from his mouth when he stilled.

'Fuck me,' hovered again on Squall's tongue as he lifted his free knee to clasp around Seifer's back, his ankles crossed behind him, but he didn't say it. It tasted rotten, and he put a wall up to what he wanted to say, wanted to ask for. No sense complicating this. He just wanted Seifer inside him, simple as that, as soon as possible.

"You alright?" Seifer breathed, partly directing the question at himself. Squall's legs were shaking, but so were his.

"Mm, 'course," Squall replied lazily, his lips curling into a subtle grin, "Aren't you?"

"Perfect." Seifer didn't take his finger from Squall's heat until he was in the right position to immediately replace it. "Absolutely fucking perfect."

Squall flinched at the initial shock of being entered, and relaxed as he found that Seifer moved slowly, stopping to wait when Squall met his hips. A pant swept cool over Squall's forehead; he opened his eyes, and echoed it. Silhouetted by the kitchen light, the sharp curve where Seifer's jaw met his throat flexed convulsively. His eyes were closed, lost, though Squall could barely see them; his hair didn't just look like gold, it was gold, curving a soft halo around his head.

The hand Squall had been using to pillow his head slipped beneath Seifer's throat, around to the back of his scalp, bringing him back to him. "Nn," Seifer acknowledged into the kiss he was met with, struggling through the haze of silken heat that consumed him. Sound came from deep in Squall's midsection to purr against his lips, then hitched as Seifer reached between Squall's underarm and the sofa to curl around his back.

"N-now..." Squall tittered, breathless. A subtle roll of Squall's hips, and Seifer was again sent adrift on just that sensation; he drove inward a little further before he left and Squall met every thrust reflexively, every breath rasped in synch with movement as Seifer watched it play in Squall's eyes -- widening and squinting, tongue pinched white between his teeth.

Squall wanted more -- more than Seifer's sex inside him, Seifer himself inside him, whatever that meant, drawn up in his arms and his body to keep. He wanted the pulse he felt with his fingertips to beat within his own chest, to hear Seifer's voice when a moan escaped. But this overwhelming, unquenchable need wasn't real, it was induced. An exhaustive unintentiomindmindfucking that already had him writhing with the foreign craving to feel someone else's blood flow within his veins. Not real. Not. Real.

Squall wished it was.

He curled forward sharply to mingle the sweat on his face with that soaking Seifer's shoulder; their pace picked up, and he started biting, caught between his thirst for soaked skin and a fof cof causing even minute pain so strong that it bordered on repulsion. But Seifer liked it, of course he did, or Squall wouldn't have done it in the first place. Seifer's fingers tangled his hair, pulling a fistful too large to hurt, bringing their faces together to do more than kiss: Seifer breathed for him.

Squall pulled that steady wind into his lungs and returned it, hot and damp, mingled with the air around them -- just enough to keep from suffocating while he felt he might drown in Seifer or drown Seifer inside him. He gave Seifer his breath just as his body was filled, took it back when Seifer left. More than intense, being as close as was concievable (conceivable) to what he wanted. Seifer groaned into his mouth; the vibration drew him taut and launched a sobbing cry deep into Seifer's throat.

Squall blanked out, lost control, sharp whines distant as his shudders slid him around in the slick beneath him and painted a hot line across Seifer's navel. Seifer didn't want to end it yet, but against his will his thrusts shortened, quickened. He would see Squall come again, and again, as many times as he could manage.

"Seifer..." Squall's voice was soft, quivering and drawn tight at every interval, "Give... hnn... give me you... you... feel you..." He smothered the rest of his babble with more skin and managed to find Seifer's earlobe with his teeth, jittering without meter as Seifer continued to brush deep and draw everything out.

Squall couldn't stay like this, it was getting awkward -- it didn't matter if they wouldn't lie as equals anymore, it was almost over. He grasped at Seifer's shoulder, only meeting resistance for a second before Seifolleolled with him to plant him on his back. Seifer hooked a hand behind Squall's knee and pushed up, driving deeper, and Squall forgot that he was even trying to shush himself. He couldn't think in more than broken sentences, and every one flew out of his mouth, too much, too little, can't stand it, don't stop, Seifer.

Seifer did fight it valiantly, held on tight until it hurt too much, mental praises inexpressible because his breath came too hard. Squall's name left him in a shout, and when he froze he wasn't the only one. Their eyes met, but they were blind.

Seifer fell hard onto his elbows, taking air in giant gulps that weren't big enough, and although Squall's third release was overkeptkept hitching as if it wasn't, chin over Seifer's shoulder and wetness boiling down his cheeks. He didn't know why the hell he was crying, he had to hide it, but Seifer was already running a hand too hard through his hair and telling him to "quit it."

"Intense. That's all." Squall coughed and sucked in a shuddering breath, "Asshole. Didn't have to draw it out like that."

"Liked it," Seifer replied, staying where he was to let Squall keep some honor and dry it up out of sight.

"Aside from the brain hemorrhage, yeah."

Seifer chuckled and pulled out of Squall, who gasped and clenched tight to keep what he left behind inside him. "Gotta get out," Seifer mumbled, creakily straightening. The glow hadn't faded but awareness was sharpening -- they were sticky all over, caught in a thick aura of steam that refused to rise, soaked with cum and sweat atop a cushion so abused it would probably have to be replaced.

"Out where?" Squall ran his fists over his cheeks and eyes to remove anything that couldn't be disguised as perspiration, and steadied his voice. "Don't --"

"A minute." Seifer grabbed the first thing he found, his shirt, and wiped himself off as best he could, "Half that." He made it to his feet and wobbled towards the balcony door, narrowly avoiding an endtable.

"Almasy --"

"Outside." Seifer grasped at the handle, overtly amused by Squall's attempt at being stern, "Air. I'm going outside."

"Youfreefreeze," Squall warned, sitting up. Getting hit with that wind would shock Seifer enough to stagger, maybe enough to fall over, to fall -- "I'll come with you."

"Good." Seifer stood still, impatient. He could have dozed off where he stood, which would have been fine if he didn't have to do it in the middle of what felt like a firepit. Squall could sit in his lap next time. Let him do all the work. Squall arrived by his side after hastily wiping off and clutching the throw he had discarded on the floor days ago with one hand, the other resting protectively on Seifer's hip.

Seifer didn't flinch in the breeze, though the deep breath he took made him shiver. The snow burned his feet, and then scratchy warmth fell over his shoulders. To complete the shield, he guided Squall between himself and the rail, pulling the blanket around them both. "You're warm."

"It's warmer inside," Squall replied, drawing spiderwebs on the arms crossed over his chest, "And I'm tired." And his legs were made of rubber. And he was sore.

"Sun's rising," Seifer observed distantly.

Indeed, the horizon was beginning to blush. "Exactly."

"Relax. We've got all day. Sunday."

Squall scowled, but didn't say anything else about it. Maybe Seifer had a free day, but Squall's to-do list was about eight pages long. After a few minutes of silence, Seifer started to shake in the cold, slight and uncontrollable. Squall just held tighter to his arms at first, but when he was finally convinced that Seifer really couldn't have still been enjoying it, silently took his hand, opened the door, and led him inside.

"Shower?" Seifer asked quietly, and Squall shook his head.

"Tomorrow." He wanted to fall over, on the floor, table, anywhere. As soon as he had the thought, Seifer pulled him sideways, toppling them both onto the undefiled end of the sofa.

"This good?" Seifer asked, the syllables shaking with concealed laughter.

Squall slid from atop him, wedging his hips between Seifer's and the leather, and didn't fight wheifeeifer held his head to his shoulder. "I'll manage," he replied, pulling their blanket over them not because he needed it, but becausiferifer did.

~~~

(Thanks go out to my beta, Chels. She rocks)