Arcane Crisis

A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far - hope you like where the fic goes in this chapter.

Warning: Here be bad language and naughty stuff.

Chapter 2



Spotting lights in the distance, Squall was certain he had found the place he had been searching for. For over an hour he had followed Seifer's trail. At first it had been easy, the snow providing all the information Squall needed to pursue the blond, but as the trail continued down the mountain, snow had been replaced with grass. Tracking had become harder after that, so it was with great relief Squall laid eyes on the cabin up ahead.

The trees were more spread out here, the forest clearing slightly. As the lone fighter crept closer still he wondered how the ex-knight had ended up in a place like this, so far from civilization. Knowing the blond was a hunted man, it shouldn't have come as a surprise, but he had never imagined Seifer capable of living a secluded life.

Sensitized to even the faintest sounds, Squall cringed as a branch creaked beneath his boots. He still didn't know how to approach the other man, never having thought further than finding him. Even now when he was so close to his target, Squall thought about which moves he would use in a fight against the other man instead of how to get him to agree to a spar.

As Squall climbed the stairs of the porch he heard noises coming from inside. Before he could reconsider he placed his gloved hand on the door and knocked loudly. All noise stopped and for a moment Squall halted all actions as well, alert, not knowing what to expect from the blond. When nothing happened Squall knocked again, harder this time.

Jaw clenched, the brunet became increasingly impatient but then a soft light appeared as the door in front of him was opened.

Somewhat unsteady on his feet, Seifer stood in the doorway, blocking Squall's entrance.  Looking at the man in front of him, Squall noted the disheveled look to the blond and the strong odor of alcohol seeping off him.

"Leave. Me. The fuck. Alone," Seifer spat, annoyance clear in his eyes before slamming the door in Squall's face. Not missing a beat Squall jammed his foot in the doorway, sturdy boots taking most of the impact.

"Fuck," the blond muttered, his back turned to Squall as he walked back into his house.

"Persistent little shit," he cursed under his breath.

Entering the house Squall closed the door behind him whilst spotting coats, boots and rifles haphazardly placed around the small room. Soft golden light emanated from the room ahead and cast everything in a warm haze. Walking further into the house, Squall entered a long room and let his eyes roam, quickly spotting the source of light. Flames licked at freshly chopped wood in an old fireplace. At the end of the room Squall saw the blond rummaging through a cupboard in the kitchen. Not knowing what to do with himself, Squall moved to sit down in an armchair by the fireplace.    

"Make yourself comfortable, why don't you..." Seifer said, irritated, as he proceeded to pour himself a tumbler of rum.

Spotting a collection of gunblades mounted on the wall around the fireplace, Squall took in the blades with a mix of awe and surprise. Most weapon shops held only one or two blades at most, never more than that. In reverence Squall examined the blades more closely. Some held exotic designs whilst others were minimalistic with stark edges. Realization set in and an awkward shiver ran through Squall as he acknowledged that this place was obviously home to Seifer, a place that was starting to cause an unfamiliar notion of envy to settle in the brunet.

Knowing he might as well face Squall, and find out what the hell the younger man wanted Seifer sat down on his couch. Taking a closer look at his one time rival, Seifer noted gray-blue eyes glazed over and unfocused, their gaze directed at the gunblades mounted on the wall. Long bangs of dark hair were unkempt and unruly as usual, more fitting on a rebellious teenager than a seasoned warrior. Deeper lines marred the younger man's face bearing witness to the time that had separated them. Another thing that separated the man in front of Seifer from the reflection in his memory was the tanned skin of the brunet.

"Why are you here Squall?" Seifer finally asked, drawing the brunet's gaze.

Noting the tiredness under the slight slur of Seifer's words, Squall recognized the blond's resignation to finally hear him out.

"I... is Hyperion here?" Squall asked, being straightforward.

"Not a clue why you're so obsessed with the beauty, but yes, she's upstairs," the blond replied, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Touch her and not even the blood of a phoenix will bring you back."

Nodding in affirmation, Squall looked Seifer over.

"You still fight," Squall commented, regarding Seifer's solid build.

"Whats it to you?" Seifer asked, leaning back to spread his arms along the back of the couch, baring his chest in the process.

"Not revenge," Squall said in a low voice, answering Seifer's earlier question as his eyes traveled up to meet Seifer's.

"Then what?" Seifer asked, as he tried to figure out Squall's intentions. Eyes locked, silence fell between them.

"There's no one else," Squall said in annoyance, averting his eyes as his face conveyed the distress he felt. Nearly choking on his rum, Seifer coughed, green eyes dancing in mirth.

"Come again?" Seifer said.

Fully aware that the blond had heard every word, Squall kept quiet but moved his head back to stare at Seifer in irritation to which the blond responded by chuckling.

"Clarify. I'm out of practice with the whole mind reading bullshit," Seifer said.

Squall rolled his eyes in reply, already exasperated by the blond's behavior. "We need to spar."

"Hn," came the quick reply.

Getting up from his place on the couch Seifer went quiet, contemplating what his former rival was saying and more importantly what he wasn't saying. Buttoning his shirt up slightly, Seifer decided some more rum was probably the best answer for now.

Grabbing the bottle on the counter Seifer could feel eyes on his back and turned around to hold up the glass and bottle in invitation. Squall nodded before moving his gaze to stare at bright flames instead. Walking over to Squall with less grace than he would've liked, Seifer held out a glass of rum.

Looking up before accepting, Squall tried to understand why Seifer was suddenly being hospitable. At a loss for any explanation, Squall took the glass from Seifer's hand and brought it to his lips. The dark amber liquid slid down effortlessly and caused a pleasant tingle to spread at the back of his throat.

Returning to the kitchen Seifer grabbed another glass. "And why do we need to spar?" he asked over his shoulder, pouring his own drink.

"Don't you miss it?" Squall questioned, surprised at the civility of their exchange.

The loud noise of the bottle of rum being placed forcefully on the kitchen table startled Squall and brought him back on edge. Then a low rumble of building laughter sounded from the blond.

"What?" Squall demanded, irritation seeping into his voice.

"You need me," Seifer replied, amused at the realization. "Hard to get my head around it, but there it is. You need me."

Wearing a shit-eating grin, Seifer walked back to the couch and plopped down on it.

"Whatever," Squall said, glancing away wearily.

"What do I get in return?" Seifer asked, lowering his gaze whilst pondering the possibilities. Only one thing kept coming up. My freedom. Green eyes filled with hope and Seifer set his jaw in determination. "Well?"

"I could just attack you," Squall offered.

The smirk on Seifer's face faltered, annoyed at where Squall was leading the conversation. "Then why the fuck haven't you?" he spat.

"Ambushing gives me an unfair advantage," Squall replied simply.

"Hn," Seifer snorted, used to Squall's pragmatism. "Well, I'm not gonna fight you, Squally-boy. Wouldn't wanna waste my precious energy. Attack if you want but I won't fight back," Seifer said, challenging Squall. He knew Squall would never attack someone who wasn't fighting back; it was one of the moral codes the brunet subjected himself to. "So unless you're going to make it worth my time you'd better be on your way."

For a few minutes the two men glared at each other, one stare ice cold, face set in stone, the other lit up in challenge, chin held high.

"I know where you are. Others might be interested to know as well," Squall tried but held little hope Seifer would fall for the empty threat.

"Do what you want Squall. You always have," Seifer stated. If Squall was going to rat him out so be it. He wasn't about to let puberty boy gain any leverage over him. Besides, the brunet had never been a tattletale.

A frown made its appearance on the brunet's forehead as he realized the futility of the situation. Seifer was never one to back down and it seemed the other man was not going to give Squall what he wanted without something in return.

"Name it then," Squall offered, leaning forward in his chair. There was no other way around it. He needed a proper fight and there wasn't much he wouldn't pay to experience the thrill of playing with Lion Heart against an equal. Gloved fingers twitched eagerly at the prospect of getting what he'd come for.

Sensing the shift in Squall, Seifer leaned forward as well, instilling an air of confidentiality.

"My pardon," Seifer stated seriously, green eyes searching gray-blue ones. "Signed by daddy dearest."

The slight frown appearing on Squall's face did nothing to please Seifer, and a pain long suppressed started resurfacing. Even though he had come to terms with his past and learnt to live with the present he still missed Raijin and Fujin.

"That's impossible," Squall said, disappointment clear in his voice. There was no way he could arrange that.

"For you? Hero of the world, son of the president of Esthar?" Seifer asked in disbelief. Angry, he got to his feet. "Guess that's it then. You know your way out."

Squall looked up just in time to see Seifer gesture at the exit.

"Name something else," Squall entreated, his voice low and eyes sincere. Being so close to getting what he wanted just to be turned away made him panic. "Anything."

Narrowing his eyes, Seifer took in the sight of the younger man before him. It was clear that Squall would trade a great deal for the fight and that he was honest about not being able to get the pardon.

The crushing feeling of injustice was tearing at Seifer like a freshly cut wound. He had been mind fucked, twisted, bent and humiliated by the sorceress and now the world had the gall to want him to pay, whilst they worshiped puberty boy for having been at the right place at the right time. Squall hadn't done anything different than what any other trained SeeD would have done. Narrowing his eyes at the target in front of him a warped idea occurred to Seifer that soothed his flayed nerves with a peculiar sense of justice.

"Okay," Seifer said, voice harsh and eyes flashing in barely suppressed rage, eyeing Squall in challenge. "I want your humiliation."

Feeling the animosity radiating off Seifer in waves, Squall instinctively got to his feet to face the blond.

"How?" Squall asked, uncertain of what Seifer had in mind.

"If I told you, it would work a treat, wouldn't it?" Seifer replied, sarcasm dripping off every word.

Briefly considering his options, Squall hesitated.

"It stays between us," Squall stated, reluctantly agreeing. He couldn't imagine Seifer capable of doing anything Squall couldn't handle. He'd lived through worse. He had his shell. And Hyne knew his body and soul was starved for a proper fight.  "Fine."

Smirking at his victory, Seifer began to consider how best to reach his new goal.

Dismissing the conceited smirk Squall rolled his eyes at the blond, conveying just how little the deal fazed him. "I'll do what you want tonight," he said more firmly. "But tomorrow, we fight."

Green eyes shone in amusement and at the sight Squall felt strangely invigorated, the unpredictable ex-knight always managing to cause a stir.

"I want to see Hyperion first," Squall added needing concrete proof that they would indeed be fighting like old times.

"Go ahead. She's in my bedroom," Seifer said, gesturing towards stairs at the end of the room.

Slightly worried at the maddened gleam to Seifer's eyes, Squall turned around slowly and headed for the stairs. Hearing no footsteps in pursuit the brunet slowed his breath as he realized that Seifer needed a temporary respite as well.

Ascending the stairs, Squall was greeted with complete darkness. Fumbling blindly for the light switch, Squall considered his options briefly. He could still escape, pride intact. But he'd have to go back to an existence void of thrills, an existence that would no doubt end up destroying him.

Squinting his eyes as the light came on, he regarded the room. It was as big as the room downstairs. Wooden furniture took up little space in the big room. The bed stood out, taking up much more space than any of the other furniture. Spotting a familiar case lying on drawers nearby, Squall removed his gloves as he inched closer. Putting down the gloves next to the case, he gingerly unfastened the latches. With reverence he eyed the blade in front of him, not touching it as per etiquette. He'd kill anyone who'd dare touch Lion Heart and wouldn't fault Seifer for doing the same.

Not hearing the other man joining him in the room, Squall was startled when a deep voice sounded behind him.

"Take off your jacket," Seifer said.

Squall turned around instinctively and the case in front of him snapped shut loudly. Seifer's features were no longer filled with mirth, instead an air of calm premeditation emanated from him. Feeling uncertain, Squall just stood there as he tried to understand Seifer's intentions. Not reaching any conclusions, Squall finally relented and removed his jacket and tossed it onto the bed.

"Your shirt," Seifer added, looking pointedly at the dark fabric before returning his hot gaze to Squall's face.

Slightly more hesitant, Squall grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, ruffling his hair in the process. For a moment Seifer just stared at the man in front of him, briefly questioning his own actions. Noticing the pale skin the brunet had kept hidden under his shirt, Seifer couldn't help but grin inwardly. That was more like the Squall he knew.

"Turn around," Seifer ordered.

Something odd stirred in Seifer as he studied the younger man. Protruding shoulder blades stood out against lean muscle showing the well-trained body of a warrior. Dark hair contrasted with the pale skin, skin that was webbed with countless white lines. Pink lines were scattered across the lithe body as well. Why is he covered in scars?

A bright glimmer caught Seifer's eye and he immediately recognized the jewelry for the opportunity it presented. He had never seen Squall without the necklace on and suspected it never left the brunet's sight.

"Hand me your necklace," Seifer demanded, holding out his hand.

Turning back around, gray-blue eyes shot straight to Seifer's, accusation and anger clear in their depths. Lifting the necklace over his head hesitantly, Squall planted the cold silver squarely in Seifer's palm. The force behind the movement clearly conveyed Squall's defiance.

"Look away, puberty boy" Seifer grunted. "You're not allowed to look at me. Understood?"

A slow nod indicated the brunet's assent, and with a clenched jaw he moved his head to gaze off to the side.

"Trousers," the blond sneered and green eyes narrowed in hostility as the brunet's head moved slightly his way before Squall managed to quell the urge to face the blond in rebellion.

Squall felt more and more ill at ease as his long fingers worked his belts. He hadn't known what to expect, but this hadn't been it.

Loud clangs resounded as heavy belts landed on the floor. Unbuttoning his trousers, Squall started tugging them downwards only to realize he was still wearing his combats. Moving to sit on Seifer's bed he undid the boots and finally managed to remove his trousers. Down to only his boxers he couldn't suppress the deep frown growing on his brow.

"Follow me," Seifer said, before he turned to leave the room, looking back over his shoulders to make sure the brunet was obeying.

Entering the kitchen, Squall wondered what Seifer had in mind, but didn't have to ponder long as Seifer reached for a tall glass and grabbed an unopened bottle of rum. Filling the glass to the brim Seifer handed it over with the words 'drink up'.

Eyeing the golden liquid with contempt Squall put the cold glass to his lips. Lukewarm liquid slid past his lips and down his throat. Unused to large amounts of alcohol, Squall had to stop several times before he managed to empty the tall glass. Finished, he set the glass on the counter and closed his eyes at the intense burning sensation the alcohol had left behind. For a while he just stood there, awaiting his next order. When none came he searched the room for Seifer's form and spotted the blond splayed out on the couch.

"What now?" Squall asked.

"We wait," the blond replied getting up to place more logs at the fireplace.

Already adjusted to the lack of clothing, Squall was actually starting to feel warm. Moving over to sit in the chair he had occupied earlier he even felt somewhat relaxed. Seifer seemed relaxed as well, resting a lazy arm over his head, comfortably stretched out on the couch. Lulled into a sense of false security, the brunet started dozing, eyes enjoying the playful dance of the flames. As the alcohol set in Squall drifted off to sleep.

For a while Seifer left the brunet alone, leaving the alcohol to work it's way through the brunet. When he thought enough time had passed, the blond grabbed the brunet's arms tightly and started shaking the smaller man roughly.

Squall's gray-blue eyes opened slowly in confusion, meeting Seifer's green ones for a split second before Squall felt the harsh sting of a slap against his cheek.

"What did I tell you earlier?" Seifer demanded harshly and Squall looked away sloppily as his entire upper body swayed in response to the slap, motor functions heavily affected by alcohol. Colors swirled before his eyes as he tried to focus on something, anything. Incapable of such a simple task Squall simply slumped back into the soft chair and felt it mold around him.

"Shit, you're a lightweight Leonheart. Pull yourself together," Seifer said, trying to steady the brunet in the chair. "Fuck."

He hadn't meant to get Squall that drunk, only to take the edge off and make Squall more submissive and less defiant.

When close to drifting off again, Squall's head was pulled back roughly and a glass was pressed against his lips. Breathing through his nose as cold water was forcefully poured down his throat, Squall gulped down the icy liquid. The glass was then removed and Squall once more slumped back into the chair and blissful oblivion.

For a long while Seifer just sat there and watched the brunet as he slept. Cursing his own stupidity, Seifer knew he had to wait a while before the brunet would be capable of anything. At least he could use the time to plan how he was going to degrade the younger man. When a couple of hours had passed, with Seifer getting more and more impatient by the minute, Seifer decided he'd had enough.

"Wake up, Squally-boy," Seifer jeered, shaking the smaller man a bit more gently this time.

"I'm tired," Squall muttered, eyes closed.

"Remember our deal, Squally-boy. Or I'll let you sleep it off outside in the cold."

Gray-blue eyes opened slowly, but after landing on Seifer's stomach they were quickly averted, signaling Squall having regained some semblance of cognitive ability.

"Good," Seifer commented releasing his hands from Squall's arms. "Get up and take off your boxers."

Rising on unsteady feet, the brunet did as he was told. Jumbled sensory input was working hard on distracting him and he felt oddly proud as he managed to stay upright.

"Put this on," the blond said, grabbing Squall's hand and placing something cold and heavy in it.

Moving his swaying head to focus on the object in his hand, Squall frowned at the sight. It took all his strength not to turn his head and look straight into Seifer's eyes in defiance. Surely, this was Seifer's way of branding him. In a slow move Squall unclasped the choker and moved the cold silver to his neck. Not only had he been forced to take off his Griever necklace for the first time since he'd had it made, but now on top of that he was forced to wear the necklace of his rival, a display of utter submission. Something twisted in his stomach as he fastened the choker and mixed feelings fought in his mind. He felt both disgusted with the blond and at the same time he found perverse pleasure in being branded by his lifelong rival, just like he'd always felt strangely proud of the scar lining his face. Never in his life had he imagined himself following orders like this. No one else had ever held this power over him. This was the only man, no person, who could ever make him submit like this. All because of Squall's pure need for something only Seifer possessed; the ability to fight Squall as an equal. Fingers lingering at the choker, Squall briefly wondered where this was leading.

"The boxers," Seifer spat, voice hot and demanding. He wanted the other man to taste some of the humiliation he himself had experienced during the war. He wanted to bring the younger fighter to tears and then mock him for breaking, just like Seifer had mocked himself for his own failings.

Hooking his cold fingers under the waistband of his boxers Squall proceeded to tug them downwards, exposing himself. Stepping out of them on wobbly feet he held his breath and felt oddly excited at standing naked before his rival, completely at the larger man's mercy. The alcohol had set all his nerves on fire, whilst dulling his judgment and clarity of thought. Jumbled images of what Seifer could do to him in this state sparked shivers to run along his spine.

"Wonder what Rinoa is going to say to this," Seifer commented dryly.

Squall scrunched his brows in confusion at the sudden mention of Rinoa's name until he managed to make sense of the accompanying words. Not wanting to give the blond further ammunition by correcting the blond's erroneous assumption, Squall kept quiet.

"What a pitiful sight," Seifer said maliciously. "No real muscle. Feminine. Pale. Scrawny. Covered in scars. It's a wonder how anyone could look at you and not feel disgust. I pity Rinoa."

Closing his eyes in an effort to keep out the abusive words, Squall couldn't help the dawning despair from clawing at him. He knew it was all part of the game, Seifer's way of humiliating him, and that if he broke it would only serve to satisfy the blond. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but wonder if that was how people saw him. If that was why he'd never been more intimate with anyone than the almost platonic kiss he'd shared with Rinoa. It didn't matter anyway. He didn't need anyone.

Focusing on that thought, Squall managed to quell the spiraling emotions of unworthiness, embarrassment and hurt.

"On your knees," the blond ordered, abruptly pulling Squall form his thoughts, giving Squall a soft push that sent the brunet toppling over.

Bony knees on hard wood, Squall felt uncomfortable but it was nothing compared to the cold shiver that ran down his spine as he heard the next command.

"Head on the floor, ass in the air."

Moving into position, Squall took a deep breath in anticipation. Resting his forehead on the floor, he felt a boot nudging in between his knees.

"Spread 'em," Seifer ordered, his eyes widening at the sight before him. He couldn't believe how willingly the brunet followed his every word. It was their agreement all right, but still to have the lion of Balamb Garden, his ever proud and stoic rival posed like this in front of him sent his mind spinning and he found it increasingly difficult to stay intimidating. It was just too odd.

Despite having felt warm and relaxed earlier with not much more clothes on than he had now, Squall felt cold to the point of shivering. He had never been this exposed and could hardly breathe as a warm hand touched his left buttock and slowly pulled it to one side, spreading his cheeks apart. A burning fire tickled Squall's starved nerves and he had to strangle a moan of pleasure before it escaped his lips. Biting down hard on his lower lip, Squall tried to stay still and quiet. No one had ever touched him this intimately and much to Squall's horror it made his body want to rebel and feel even more. If Seifer had torture in mind as well as humiliation, then the blond was definitely on the path to success.

Fishing his mobile out of his pocket, Seifer ran a thumb along Squall's crack intending to set the brunet on edge. As expected the brunet tensed beneath him in response and Squall's eyes rolled back in pleasure, unseen by the blond.

"Something to remember this by," Seifer said as he removed his hand from Squall and stood to take a picture of the pitiful sight in front of him to humiliate Squall even further.

At the sound of a picture being taken Squall closed his eyes and burrowed them in his arms, wanting to escape. But when a zipper was heard seconds later, gray-blues shot back open. Every single muscle in Squall's body tensed as he envisioned the very likely implication of that sound. He was surprised that Seifer would bring himself to actually fuck Squall, considering the blond's earlier words, not to mention the fact that Squall could have sworn Seifer was straight. Figuring it wasn't about Seifer's pleasure as much as Squall's utter humiliation, Squall felt sick to his stomach. The feeling didn't last long, however, as Squall's body once again betrayed him and instead focused on the intense sensation of a warm hand kneading his buttocks and stroking teasingly at his perineum. He could almost image what it would feel like to have Seifer's cock press against him, and it made him lose his breath, his whole body on edge.

Kneeling down behind Squall, Seifer freed his flaccid member and started stroking himself. The situation did nothing for him sexually but he wanted to give Squall the impression that he was about to fuck the brunet senseless.

Even as he knew it was wrong, Squall couldn't stop the intense pleasure coursing through his body, spreading from Seifer's hand. He had to fight hard not to lean back into the touch, his whole body inflamed with need. The lingering touch was driving him mad, adrenaline and pleasure proving an intoxicating cocktail.

For ages nothing new happened and Squall felt anticipation eating away at him. He wanted more. He wanted Seifer to take sexual pleasure from him and make him experience things he'd only ever imagined. And at the same time he was disgusted with himself for wanting such things.

Behind Squall, Seifer was wanking off, eyes closed, oblivious to the brunet's growing arousal. He was keeping up his fondling of Squall to keep the man on edge, but didn't intend to go any further. All he wanted to do was to rattle Squall and then move on to other ways of humiliating the brunet.

Brought to the brink Seifer moaned deeply and steadied himself with one hand on Squall as he came all over the lithe fighter's back.

At the feel of hot liquid on his back, gray-blues shot open and Squall couldn't help but let out a gasp of unexpected pleasure as he felt his own cock twitch in response.

Realizing that Seifer hadn't wanted sex but had brought himself to orgasm by watching Squall made all Squall's blood rush south and his cock go hard.

Getting up, Seifer walked to the kitchen to get some tissues to wipe off the mess with. Returning, he took in the sight before him with disgust. Squall had fallen far to accept something like this.

Once Seifer had wiped his come off the brunet's back roughly, he got up and ordered the younger man to follow suit.

Timid, Squall turned and got up on his feet, this easily being the most humiliating moment in his life. His rival had just degraded him and his body had responded by being incredibly turned on, his painful hard on undeniable proof. At least he didn't have to look at Seifer.

Certain that his heart had stopped beating, Seifer just stood there, eyes wide and stock-still. Hyne, Squall is hard. Squall is turned on. Fuck. He's hard. Squall. Shit.

Embarrassed further by the stretching silence, Squall clenched his fists, unable to do anything else.

Hard Squall. Shit. Hyne.

Seifer's brain still wasn't functioning properly, the sight in front of him shocking him beyond what he'd ever thought possible. Must think. Look away. Look away. Not cool man, not cool. But however much he wanted to he couldn't avert his eyes, finding them glued to the sight of an aroused Squall.

"Fuck, you really are one fucked up piece of work aren't you?" Seifer finally managed, derision coming natural. Squall shut his eyes in humiliation.

Plans completely thwarted by the change of events Seifer started contemplating other possible avenues. How could he make this work to his benefit?

"Sit on the couch," Seifer finally commanded and the brunet obeyed, moving to sit down. Squall was relived to once again be sitting and not having to work hard on keeping himself standing straight.

"Does Rinoa like it kinky, puberty boy?" Seifer asked playfully, sitting down on the couch as well.

"Keep Rinoa out of it," Squall replied, thankfully feeling his arousal starting to die down due to the lack of stimulus.

"Nu-uh Squally-boy. I don't think so. My rules, my night," Seifer said. "Touch yourself."

Squeezing his eyes shut in shame Squall moved his right hand to firmly grip his cock. Slowly he began pumping himself.

"So... does she like it kinky?" Seifer asked again.

"I wouldn't know," Squall answered, hating every word. His private life was no one else's business.

"Huh?" Seifer asked, dumbfounded. "You're going to have to do better than that."

"We were never together," Squall replied, anger slipping into his voice. "I broke it off with her right after the war."

"Why?" Seifer asked, keeping his eyes on the brunet's pumping hand, finding the show oddly captivating. He could even feel a slight stir in his own groin.

"Too different," Squall answered truthfully.

"Hn," was Seifer's brief reply, his attention redirected to the display in front of him, little twitches of pleasures on Squall's face proving strangely arousing.

But then something else entirely occurred to him, a though that caused him to start laughing in dawning realization. "You're a fucking fag..." Seifer stated, eyes traveling up and down Squall's body.

Squall winced at the statement and slowed down his pumping.

"You're a fucking pillow biter. That's why you got all hot at the thought of me fucking you."

"No," Squall said bitterly.

"Who got to break in your scrawny ass?" Seifer asked, amused.

"No one. I'm not gay," Squall reiterated.

"Hn. If you say so," Seifer relented, eyes narrowed in contemplation. "Heh. I guess any man or woman who'd go out with you would have to seriously consider their sexual orientation," he continued.

"I didn't say you could stop stroking yourself," he admonished, as he kept pondering what Squall wasn't telling him. "Do it faster. And don't hold back your moans."

When the first audible moan left Squall, Seifer felt himself go hard.

"How many have you been with?" Seifer asked, intrigued. Squall stopped mid stroke.

"Keep going," Seifer demanded again, irritation creeping into his voice.

"No one," Squall said and felt utterly devastated, having to declare something so intimate to his rival. If not for the continued stimulus he would definitely be soft right now.

Seifer started chuckling, eyes dancing in amusement. "Squally a virgin, ey? Guess I was right. No one wants the prissy little ice princess."

Squall couldn't suppress the hurt that ran through his body as the cold words hit too close to home. Narrowing his eyes in thought, Seifer became serious.

"Well, guess what puberty boy. You're going to close your eyes. Then you're going to pump yourself harder. Then you're going to come moaning my name," Seifer said, his voice hard as he got up from the couch to stand in front of Squall.

Squall's face scrunched up briefly as he considered Seifer's order but then he closed his eyes and leaned his head back to rest on the couch. Feeling Seifer's presence looming over him he had a hard time letting himself go, but with his eyes closed he managed to block out the strange situation and instead focus on the arousing friction of his calloused hand moving against his cock.

Finding the view before him oddly arousing, Seifer started pumping himself at the sight, licking his lips hungrily every time Squall would let out a low moan. Utterly dominating Squall in this way and seeing Squall's arousal was turning out to be the strongest aphrodisiac Seifer had ever encountered. Being the first to experience the stoic brunet letting himself go like this made Seifer feel like he was going to blow his load any second.

Sensing the younger mans approaching climax Seifer felt himself go impossibly hard and pumped his cock faster still whilst holding back his moans. As Squall's face tensed in pleasure and pale lips whispered the blond's name, Seifer's own orgasm hit him full force and his come shot forward, landing in hot white streaks on the brunet's face.

Going completely still before slowly opening his eyes to look at Seifer, Squall was stunned speechless. As gray-blue eyes met green, Seifer didn't complain. Never before had he seen anything as sexy as his rival's face streaked with his come, looking up at him through heavy lidded eyes. Glancing down the brunet's body he spotted more come on Squall's stomach, evidence of the younger man's own climax.

Seifer turned away as the strangest urge overcame him, an urge that made him feel sick to his stomach.

In that moment he wanted to kiss Squall, to claim those pale lips.