Paternal Affairs

A/N (EDITED): I had a section here asking what readers wanted to see in the last chapter, but aff said that wasn't allowed so I'm taking it down. I won't be creating a poll in the forums about it because, honestly, it's kind of a hassle, and besides, I'm pretty sure this chapter was written long ago enough so that a new poll wouldn't get a response. Hopefully the last chapter will be out soon, thank you to my readers.

Also, thank you Madisuzy, william, and Selim for reviewing chapter three. I'm glad to know you like this fic!


Chapter Four


Squall couldn't believe he was here, in this person's apartment, on this person's couch. He wondered if he could handle the levels of annoyance the situation presented, but the truth was. . . when he was thinking of places to go, this was the only possibility that came to his mind. Zell's apartment. He sunk into the couch, wondering why he hadn't made any other friends this semester. At any rate, dubious friend choices aside, Squall was still in disbelief over what had just happened. He couldn't believe Seifer had slept with Laguna. When, exactly, did it happen? Why did they do it? As soon as Squall had stepped out of the hotel his anger had dissipated, only confusion and depression left. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he was sure that he didn't want to see either of them right now.

The door to the apartment unlocked and started to open, and Squall turned around to watch Zell come in. Zell was holding a large duffel bag, and he put it on the floor next to the couch and tossed Squall a key.

"Was he there?" Squall asked. He was somewhat curious as to whether Laguna knew that Squall knew about the affair. He didn't know if Seifer would tell him.

Zell shook his head no. "I left a note on the kitchen table saying you'd be staying with a friend for awhile. Then I grabbed your textbooks and all the clothes I could fit."

"Thanks," Squall muttered.

Zell took a seat next to him on the couch, his face full on sympathy. Zell was like an open book; it was never hard to tell what he was thinking. "Man, Seifer's an even bigger ass than I thought. I can't believe he did this too you. And your dad, too. . . that's pretty fucked up."

Squall shrugged. In truth, he was somewhat grateful that Zell wasn't jumping around saying 'I told you so' every few minutes. It's what Squall might have expected from the spastic blond.

"Have you talked to him since then?"

Squall shook his head no. "He's been calling me, but I don't want to even hear his voice. At least not right now."

"Are you going to go to school tomorrow?"

"Yeah." Squall had debated it for awhile. He was afraid that Seifer would try to track him down in school, but he wasn't the type of person to miss classes for a reason like that. So Squall had sent Seifer a text telling him to leave him alone for now. That had stopped the phone calls, and Squall was sure that Seifer would obey his wishes and give him privacy at school as well. He sighed and put his head in his hands. This was so messed up.

Squall stayed at Zell's apartment for a week. Laguna had called him twice on Thursday, and Squall wondered if he had found out that Squall knew. It's not like he had ever called Squall before for anything. At the end of the week Squall felt pretty much the same as he had in the beginning. He still didn't know what he wanted to do, but he did know that he couldn't crash on Zell's couch forever. Maybe he should get a part-time job and find a different place to stay. He certainly did not want to live with Laguna.

"Dude, this is driving me crazy!" Zell ripped a book from Squall's hands and threw it onto the ground. "All you do is hang out here and go to school. How about getting out a little bit? You could use a distraction."

Squall frowned and reached for the book, only to have Zell kick it away.

"Let's go out tonight. We're going to get you laid."

Squall sighed, but then realized it might not be a bad idea. It would get his mind off Seifer and Laguna, at least for a little bit, and he had to admit that he felt more than a little frustrated. In the last three weeks he had only had one night of sex. He might not have been as insatiable as Seifer, but he was still a young man, and this definitely constituted a dry spell. "Fine."

A few hours later Squall was dressed in a button-down shirt and khakis. He was following Zell towards a building in the neighborhood everyone was touting as the latest and greatest night spot. Waiting there was a small girl smiling and waving at them. Her hair was in pigtails, and she was wearing a little white tube dress.

"Hey!" Zell said, eyes beaming as he walked up to her. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and she blushed as a result. "Squall, this is my girlfriend, Briallen. Briallen, this is Squall."

"Hello," Briallen said, her quiet voice barely audible in the noise of the streets. She looked up at Squall from beneath long eyelashes, her face half hidden behind Zell as she went to hold his hand. "Zell's told me a lot about you."

"Aren't you two sweet," Squall said, a little sickened by it. Of course, Zell took it as a compliment, and beamed at Squall.

"Don't worry about activating your gaydar," Zell said, causing Squall to roll his eyes, "this is a gay club, so you've got your pick of the litter."

Squall followed Zell and Briallen into the club, watching as they held hands and giggled at each other like little kids. He wondered if Zell had to be so irritating in everything he did. But that really wasn't fair. After all, Zell was a good guy. He watched out for Squall, and this whole thing was to cheer up Squall in the first place. For a moment Squall felt bad about his constantly derisive thoughts in regards to Zell. Once they got to the bar, he called the bartender over and ordered all three of them a round of drinks, thinking he could at least do that much as a thank you.

"To getting over asshole boyfriends and awful fathers," Zell said, holding his cup up. Briallen and Squall clanked their glasses against his, and they all took sips of varying volume. After that a few girls showed up and headed straight to Briallen, and the group of them chatted and giggled together. Squall sipped his drink, feeling a little awkward among these girls that he didn't know.

There was a movement next to him, and Squall looked over to see a man take the seat. His hair was a long and wavy brown, held back in a low ponytail, except for some shorter pieces in front that framed his face. His eyes would have been an ordinary shade of blue if it wasn't for the slight hint of violet that seemed to appear whenever the light hit them in a certain way. The ear facing Squall was lined with piercings, little hoops that ran from cartilage to lobe. The guy was hot.

Squall looked downward. The man's body was slim but athletic. Not Squall's personal type, but not bad. He was wearing slim-fitting jeans over brown cowboy boots, a tight white t-shirt, and a few leather necklaces wrapped closely around his neck.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Those almost-purple eyes were looking at him now, a large smirk playing over wide tan lips.

"Sure," Squall said, quick to chug down his current drink. "Scotch is good."

"My pleasure." The man gestured at the barkeep, who ignored all the other patrons to come over. "Two glasses of Glendronach. On the rocks."

Squall didn't know that much about scotch, but that sounded impressive enough. Two glasses were promptly placed in front of them, and Squall lifted his to his lips, taking a breath of the aroma before taking a sip. It tasted pretty good, although he was hardly an expert in these kinds of things.

"What's your name?" the man asked, his voice a slow drawl. "Mine's Irvine."

"Squall."

"So, Squall, what's a cute little thing like you doing all alone at a place like this?" It was a cheesy line, but somehow it worked for Irvine. It probably had to do with the half-smile on his lips, like he was perfectly aware of the camp value and he didn't particularly care.

"I'm with friends," Squall said. Then he figured he should say something else, so this Irvine guy wouldn't think that he was blowing him off. "But they're kind of doing their own thing right now. To tell the truth, I'm a little lonely."

"Is that so." Irvine smiled at him, smooth as fine whiskey. He placed an arm on the back of Squall's chair and leaned closer. "It's hard for me to believe that a man like you could lack company."

Squall smiled a little bit, he couldn't help it. "You're so full of shit."

Irvine raised an elegantly arched eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I didn't mean that in a bad way," Squall replied, his voice gently teasing. Irvine didn't seem to get it, but he did seem like he could read the tone and the mood pretty well. "What about you? Why are you here alone?"

"To pick up cute boys, of course," Irvine said. His tone was joking, but it definitely wasn't a joke. Then he raised his hand in the air, gesturing around the bar. "Besides. I own this place."

"Seriously?" At that revelation Squall looked around the room for the first time. It was only slightly nicer than your average college bar, but on the whole it seemed pretty typical. Sticky, dirty floor, not enough seating, and too-loud music. Although Squall had to admit that the walls had a pretty cool design to them. They were covered floor to ceiling in dimes and pennies, of all things, the two colors forming shapes and patterns around the bar. They even covered the front of the bar, where they spelled out the bar's name. Dirty Doubloon.

"Yeah, well, I own a few of the places around here."

Squall looked Laguna over again. He didn't seem much older than Squall, but looks could be deceiving. It was then that Squall noticed the bartender had left the entire bottle of scotch between them, and Irvine had been topping off his drink every now and then. He smiled to himself, then picked up his glass and took a gulp. "You're not trying to take advantage of me, are you?"

"Of course not," Irvine replied, eyes twinkling. "I, good sir, am a gentleman. I would never take another man unwillingly to bed."

"And what about willingly?"

"In cases such as those," Irvine said, pretending to ponder the question, "well. . . in that case, I happen to have a room set up in the back of this club."

Squall snickered. It was obvious, then, that Irvine did this a lot. He wondered if Irvine had rooms set up in all of his clubs.

"You're not offended, are you?" Irvine asked, but his expression clearly showed that he didn't expect Squall to be.

"Not at all. I'm all for taking practical measures."

"Mmm. You do seem like a very. . . practical man." Irvine poured some more scotch in Squall's glass, and moved his seat over a little. "So, Squall, what exactly do you do?"

Squall caught Zell's glimpse out of the corner of his eye. Zell looked like he wasn't sure whether to be suspicious of Irvine or excited for Squall. So Squall gave him a small thumbs up. Zell grinned and, mind appeased, went back to chatting with his girlfriend and her friends. Squall then turned his attention back to Irvine. "I go to college here."

"What year?"

"Third," Squall said, knowing he couldn't very well tell Irvine that he was a freshman. "Aeronautical engineering."

Irvine whistled. "Sounds smart. You boys with your fancy college degrees; I feel all inadequate talking to you."

"I'm sure," Squall said, sarcastic. Irvine did not look like the kind of man who considered himself inadequate in any way. Squall wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not, but it seemed like Irvine was a lot closer to him now than he was before. They were just a few inches apart, and he realized that Irvine's arm was slung around his back, his hand on Squall's shoulder.

"What would a smart college boy like you do, if some high-falootin' club owner was to try and kiss you?"

"Let him," Squall said, before a pair of lips pressed against his. He opened his mouth a little, and Irvine wasted no time in dipping his tongue in, exploring every crevice of Squall's mouth. Squall returned the favor, and then their tongues sparred as they made out in the crowded club.

"Woo hoo!" came Zell's voice. Squall broke off the kiss to look at the blond, who was staring at them obnoxiously and waving his fist in the air. Briallen was blushing next to him. "Go, Squall!"

Squall frowned before turning back to Irvine. "Didn't you say something about a back room?"

"Are you sure?" Irvine asked. He didn't seem shocked, exactly, though it was clear he hadn't expected them to get this far so soon.

"Yes," Squall replied, getting out of his seat. Irvine was quick to get up as well. He gestured to the bartender to put the bottle of Glendronach away, then led Squall through the crowd and towards the back of the bar. The door Irvine led him to was well-camouflaged into the wall, thanks to the continuous patterns of the coins. It wasn't until they got closer that Squall saw the handle sticking out, a near-invisible ball of steel.

"Welcome to my office," Irvine said, opening the door for Squall.

Squall stepped inside. The "office" was really just a small bedroom. The walls were painted a dark, almost-black purple, and black sheets framed the king-sized bed that sat in the middle of the room. Squall was amused to see that not only was there a huge round mirror in the ceiling, but one facing the bed as well. There was even a mirror built into the headboard. The only light was a large, circular tube hanging from the ceiling, emitting a dim purple hue. The room was three parts flashy and two parts trashy, something that seemed to fit Irvine's character.

"What other places do you own?" Squall asked, as he took in the decorations. There was artwork framed on the wall, scenes of sodomy and debauchery drawn in ancient Greek style. Laguna was already peeling off his shirt, revealing a well-tanned and lithe chest.

"Veronica, the new club on fifth, and Bar Three. You know, that place all the frat boys and sorority chicks from your school like to go to. It's my triumvirate of clubs, if you will."

"I see you get around," Squall commented.

"It's business." Irvine shrugged. Now completely naked except for those leather necklaces, stone charms dangling from the center, he was sitting on the bed and rummaging through a nightstand drawer. Squall took the opportunity to admire the other man's cock, only half-hard but already proving to be longer than average. "Now, are you going to take off your clothes?"

Squall moved closer to Irvine, until he was standing right in front of the seated man. Hands came up automatically to undo his buttons, and as Irvine slid his shirt off his shoulders, Squall unzipped his pants. He hadn't bothered with underwear, considering his intentions for the night. Squall had barely stepped out of his pants when firm hands grabbed the back of his thighs, pulling forward onto the bed. As his knees came to rest around Irvine's legs, he felt Irvine's mouth wrap around his cock and suck.

Seifer shuddered, his hands coming to rest on the back of Irvine's head. Irvine had swallowed him to the hilt in one gulp, and was applying an impossible amount of suction, in addition to doing insane things to the underside of Squall's cock with his tongue. He was better at this than Seifer, Squall thought. He was enjoying the feel of a mouth on his cock when he felt a wet finger press against his back side. Squall took a breath and tried to relax as the finger circled the edge of his hole, pressing gently in an attempt to gain admittance. His hole gave way soon enough, and the finger slid in to the first knuckle. Irvine pushed the finger all the way in, then made small come-hither motions with it, something that sent waves of pleasure pulsing outward through Squall's body. Squall gasped, fingers tightening in long brown hair.

Irvine used the opportunity to shove in a second finger, marveling at how tight Squall's ass was. He'd have to get it nice and wet if he wanted to be able to get in all the way. His own cock throbbed, neglected, between his legs, already dripping at the prospect of being inside a hole that tight.

Irvine pulled his fingers and mouth away, slapping Squall's ass once as he moved away. "On your hands and knees."

Squall listened, climbing farther onto the bed and getting in the position Irvine wanted. "You have a condom, right?"

Irvine hesitated for a second, but then he pulled a small square packet from his drawer. "Yeah, sure."

Squall nodded in satisfaction and turned to face the headboard, only to see himself looking back through the mirror. His face was flushed a light pink, and his eyes looked wanton and needy. Embarrassed by the sight, Squall looked away. He felt Irvine climb onto the bed behind him, and then he felt cold liquid being squeezed into the crevice of his ass. He shivered a little at the sensation. But soon after Irvine tossed the bottle onto the floor, and positioned his cock at Squall's hole.

Irvine pushed himself in slowly, inch by inch. While he did so he grabbed Squall's ass, kneading it, watching his cock disappear into that pretty hole.

"Yeah," Irvine whispered, pushing in even more, "take it. Take that dick."

When he was half way in, Irvine moved his hands to Squall's back, pushing Squall's head down to rest on the bed while keeping his ass in the air. It was an uncomfortable position for Squall, having Irvine's hands digging into him like that, but it was more than made up for by the pleasure radiating from his ass.

"You're so fucking hot," Irvine said, sliding all that way inside Squall's ass. He licked his lips and looked up into the headboard, enjoying the way he looked behind Squall's ass. He pulled out and thrust back in, watching his reflection in the mirror. "You look so good getting fucked like this."

He picked up his pace as he watched himself in the mirror, really wanting to give to give Squall a good pounding. He looked like such a stud, fucking someone raw like that. His thrusts grew more and more violent, until soon he had pushed Squall completely down onto the bed. Irvine bent his legs around around Squall's ass and placed his hands on either side of Squall's head to support himself as he kept fucking the other man. He looked like a frog in this position, but he didn't care. It felt so good pounding Squall into the mattress.

Squall panted as Irvine moaned on top of him. It felt good, having Irvine's cock inside of him, but something felt. . . missing. It wasn't that Irvine was bad at this. It still felt good, and he had no problems with Irvine's technique. But his cock wasn't Seifer's cock. It didn't open Squall up the way Seifer's did. Squall felt sick to admit it, but he still wanted that big, thick dick up his ass. If it wasn't Seifer's dick, there was no way he could cum just by being fucked.

"Irvine," he muttered, and the other man must have known what he was asking for. Without even slowing down his pace, he turned Squall over so that they were both on their sides. He placed a hand on Squall's inner thigh and lifted his leg up, still fucking him. From this position Squall could grab his cock, and reached down to tug on it violently. Several minutes later, he could feel himself start to cum.

"Seifer," he muttered, tugging on himself in quicker, more violent motions. He cringed as jets of semen shot out of his dick. They flew through the air and landed in pale contrast on the black sheets. Irvine came soon afterwards, spilling himself inside the condom before pulling out of Squall's ass.

"That was good," Irvine said, already getting up to throw the condom away. After tossing the condom, he wiped his cock off with some tissue paper and started to put on his clothes. "Anytime your hole wants a pounding, feel free to come back. Though maybe you should go try it with whoever Seifer is, first."

"Sorry about that," Squall said, though Irvine didn't seem offended at all. He pushed himself off the bed, his hole feeling strangely unsatisfied. As he put on his clothes he thought about his situation. As much of an asshole as Seifer had been, Squall wanted his dick. He wanted Seifer fucking him. He honestly didn't know if anyone else could ever satisfy him the same way, and the thought made him angry and frustrated at the same time.

"Sorry to rush you," Irvine said, his most charming smile pasted on, "but I've gotta lock the room."

"Yeah," Squall said, "I'm ready to go."

They stepped out of the room and back into the club. They had taken maybe five steps when Zell appeared before them, hands slamming down onto Squall's shoulders.

"Hey, man, I've been looking for you! I've gotta take Briallen home, and I just wanted to know if you were coming with or staying here." From the was his eyebrows were wriggling up and down suggestively, Squall figured Zell had seen him coming out of the back room.

"I'll go," he said. He turned back to say goodbye to Irvine, and the other man smirked and slapped his ass.

"Come back soon."

Squall started to walk towards the door, an enthusiastic Zell bouncing beside him. "So, how was it? Was that guy any good? Did it get your mind off Seifer?"

"Zell," Squall said, already feeling a headache coming on, "you're not going to get my mind off Seifer by bringing him up in conversation all the time."

"Oh. Yeah." Zell looked a little chagrined for a moment, before he caught sight of Briallen at the front of the club. His eyes lit up and he pulled Squall along to meet up with his girlfriend. "Sorry for the wait, I found him."

"Did you have fun, Squall?" Briallen asked brightly, and Squall thought that she wouldn't know the half of it. He didn't think that Zell would go for the sweet, innocent type, but then again Zell was pretty earnest himself.

"Yeah," he answered, "I liked that club."

"Good!" Briallen beamed. "I picked it out, you know. I did some research on-line to find gay bars in the area."

". . . Thanks." Squall wasn't sure what to say to that, but he didn't need to say anything, because just then their conversation was interrupted.

"Squall?"

Squall froze at the familiar voice, then turned. There, staring at him with an expression that was equal parts dumbfounded and guilty, was his father. It seemed as though he had just come out of a nearby restaurant. The worse part, though, was that Seifer was coming out as well, directly behind him. Squall could feel anger fill him as he saw them together.

"This is fucking rich," he managed to spit out, somewhat satisfied to see Laguna recoil from his words.

"Squall," Laguna said, "we need to talk."

"I have nothing to talk to you about. Why don't you just forget about me again? My life was much better off without you in it." He turned to leave, but then a strong hand wrapped around his arm. "Let go!"

He tried to elbow the person behind him, but found himself pressed back against a broad chest. It was Seifer, and he knew that Seifer had the advantageous position here. "Squall, let's just go talk."

"Let him go, Seifer!" Zell exclaimed, subconsciously using his body to shield Briallen. "He doesn't want to go with you!"

"He doesn't have a choice in the matter," Seifer said, sounding not a little bit intimidating. Zell recoiled a little at the words, but then stepped forward, putting his fists up.

"Let him go, Seifer."

"This is ridiculous," Squall said, deflating a little bit in Seifer's hold. He didn't want to get Zell involved in a fight, of all things. The small blond didn't deserve this mess. "I'll go."

Zell looked concerned, but put his fists down. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." At the word, Seifer loosened his grip on Squall, but didn't let go. Instead, he moved his hand down to wrap around Squall's wrist.

"Squall." Laguna reached his hand out, wanted to place it on Squall's shoulder, but his son only slapped it away.

"I said I'd talk to Seifer, not to you."

Laguna cringed and held his wrist to his chest as though it had been burnt.

"Come on," Seifer said, leading Squall away, "let's go."