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The way Squall pressed back against him had surprised Seifer, the first time they’d managed to cross the divide of their combative natures and find something to share that wasn’t simply violence. He wouldn’t say that they’d found something other than violence, that wouldn’t be true; not with the way every touch they first shared had simmered with aggression, with repressed need and swallowed-down want, the bruises they left on each other half possession and half festering grudge. But the way Squall had surged into him, pressing into his body, as if Seifer was offering him something that might vanish in a split second if he didn’t hold onto it with both hands - that had been surprising.
Everyone else seemed to have spotted it easily, how Seifer’s obsession went deeper than violence and competition, how his fervent need to be better than Squall had shifted into something else where coming out on top was perhaps more of a literal want than a figurative one. How he adored feeling all that leashed strength beneath him, how good it felt when Squall went limp and admitted defeat under the pin of his body, with Seifer’s blade at his throat, the threat of what Seifer could - and would never - do to him unspoken but always there between them. He thought he’d been so obvious that he’d felt ashamed of it, covered his lust with crows of victory, with shoving Squall away when all he wanted was to pull him closer, with teeth bared in a grin that only existed because otherwise, he’d sink those teeth into soft flesh and never left go.
Seifer had known he was a monster the moment he’d looked at Squall Leonhart and had first begun to know what it was to covet. To want something so badly that simply having it wouldn’t be enough; no, he had to burn the whole world down just to ensure that no one else ever tasted what he couldn’t allow himself to stain with his bloody fingertips. But he wasn’t sure he’d really believed it until he’d first fumbled with those useless fucking belts and had heard Squall - expressionless, ice princess, silent and stoic Squall - moan as if they were already pressed skin to skin, and felt him shudder, coming between them from nothing but the promise of what Seifer might give him. Then, reaching down to squeeze Squall’s still-hard dick through his leathers, feeling the way his spend slid around inside them, and watching the red flush rise on Squall’s face, Seifer had understood himself completely. He would be Squall’s downfall, and he would enjoy every single moment of it.
It had taken a long time for them to get to this point, where Squall didn’t go off like a shot just from the way Seifer purred his name, the way he was undressed, the way his lover’s hands felt on his skin. Long hours of what Squall called torture and Seifer called training, but that both of them fell to readily when they were in Squall’s rooms, soundproofing keeping them from broadcasting just what they were up to for the whole Garden to hear. Oh, Seifer still loved that he could pull their stone-faced Commander into a rarely-used corridor and press one knee between his eagerly spread legs and have him go off like a green recruit from a little frottage and a few whispered promises of what he’d do when he got his little stormcloud alone. There was nothing quite like leaving Squall snarling and steaming, shame-faced and sticky in public, and knowing that his rooms were a good five minute walk away as he patted him on the face with one gloved hand, avoided the lazy attempt at a bite to his fingers, and got to stalk away. But afterwards, those were the moments that they both loved the most.
“That’s it, princess, you can take it,” Seifer purred, getting a snarl back from his lover, stretched out on his extra-large Commander bed - in case he had to ‘entertain’ someone important, Seifer always said, before making sure to leave bruises that would leave no doubt as to whether or not Squall had a partner - on his hands and knees, naked but for his Griever pendant, which swayed every time he shifted. “You can do it for me, can’t you, stormcloud?”.
Squall was a vision, all golden skin glinting in the low lights, hair flopping into his face where it was damp with sweat. Not that he’d know, unwilling as he was to look up and into the full-length mirror that had come with the big fancy rooms and that Seifer had angled him in front of. Squall hated the rooms, but Seifer was too fond of the privacy, space, and various ways he could take Squall apart in them to let him downgrade the bed, and so, the luxury stayed. The only comment Squall made on it these days was that it was no less than what he deserved for having to put up with Seifer, which made the blond smile - it was nice to see Squall treat himself like he deserved something nice every so often. But that didn’t extend to watching himself be a good boy, it seemed.
“Head up,” Seifer said, tone firm but not sharp, before tugging on Squall’s hair just enough to lift his lover’s head, making eye contact with Squall in the mirror. “There we go, don’t you look perfect like this?”
Squall moaned, pupils blown as he looked at the picture he made. Seifer had him spread wide, four fingers in him now, and every time Squall started to tense up, Seifer went still, keeping him from coming. He’d just so happened to run into their Commander four times during the day, making Squall come each time, meaning he had more of a chance of getting Squall through all of this without him going off too fast and ruining what Seifer was hoping for. It wasn’t always easy to get noise out of the stoic man, but Seifer was determined that this time, he would make his princess scream for him. Stretching him beyond anything he’d ever experienced before, and keeping him from coming? Felt like pretty good odds. For someone who went all-in on self-denial with everything else, Squall was surprisingly bad at holding back his orgasm - or perhaps that was what had led to his hair trigger in adulthood, Seifer considered. When everyone else had been exercising their teenage masturbatory urges as frequently as possible, the ice princess had been holding everything back so hard that there was a chance he hadn’t even realised the showers had a hot water setting.
“Asked you a question, stormcloud,” Seifer purred, tugging a little harder on the hair in his clean hand just to watch Squall’s mouth drop open wider as helpless noise spilled out. “Be good for me now, or I won’t give you everything you want.”
It was an empty threat, and they both knew it; Seifer had never been capable of giving Squall anything less than everything within his power, for better or for worse. It was why their rivalry had always been such a dangerous game, and why their romance was intense, dedicated, and not a little obsessive. Neither of them did anything halfway, and that included love and sex.
“I look - “ Squall managed, breaking off for another groan as Seifer’s fingers flexed inside him, “fucking wrecked.” He was panting as he bit off the last word, and Seifer let his head drop again, sliding that hand down to rest on Squall’s lower back as he started to let the tip of his thumb play around his slick, stretched hole.
“Not yet,” he murmured, before pressing in a little, feeling Squall open for him as he took the next step in getting him ready to take his whole fist, “but you will be, I promise.”
Once Seifer felt Squall was truly ready, once the press of knuckles had stopped making him wince and shift, they were both sweating, damp trails down Squall’s back making lines for Seifer to follow with his mouth as he soothed away the complaints that he was taking too long, that he was being too careful.
“You won’t break me,” Squall snapped, as Seifer withdrew again to add more lube, and there was a frozen moment in the room, despite the heat, both of them remembering another time, another place, when that hadn’t been such a certain thing. Surprisingly, it was Squall who spoke first, turning his head to make eye contact. “I want this. I want you.”
Seifer’s mouth twitched up in half a grin, and the tension bled out of the room almost as fast as it had arisen, though the reminder of the danger inherent in having Seifer at his back did send goosebumps up Squall’s overheated skin that were only soothed away when Seifer’s clean hand was back on him. They both took a steadying breath before Squall turned back, making eye contact through the mirror this time and arching his back, silently offering a challenge of the sort the blond had never been able to turn down.
“Greedy slut,” Seifer managed, once he was sure he could speak again without the words coming out breathlessly grateful that Squall had ever forgiven him, had ever let him press his hands to all that soft, gorgeous skin. “Can’t leave you empty for a second, can I? Just too fucking desperate for it, all the time.”
“Left me empty all day,” Squall shot back, and that was right, that was how they did things, the old competition charged with more companionable ribbing and sex these days. “Thought I’d have to ask Irvine to put his money where his mouth - fuck….”
He was cut off as Seifer slid his hand back into him, pressing slowly but firmly, covered in what felt like a week’s worth of lube. His knuckles met the edge of Squall’s hole and then slipped in, and Seifer’s smirk could have been used to cut glass as Squall’s mouth fell open, body dropping from resting on his hands to his forearms at the feel of it.
“What was that, princess?” Seifer jeered, the care with which he pushed a little deeper before stilling belying the glee in his tone. “Who’s the only one who fills you up properly? The only one who keeps you full just the way you need? The only one who gives you everything you beg for?”
He leaned in a little to nip at Squall’s hip, smile pressing against skin as their illustrious commander buckled a little more. Squall was the very picture of debauchery; cheek pressed to the bed, eyes wild and hair going everywhere, the slope of his shoulders leading up to his ass, high and sweet and firm, and swallowing Seifer’s hand like it was nothing.
He tested the waters, flexing his fingers just a little and listening to Squall’s punched-out groan, the one he always made when Seifer bottomed out for the first time, and couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off his face. Fuck, he was so proud of his little stormcloud, his Squall, the other half of his soul; when he said he wanted to do something, he did it, and that didn’t matter if it was something world changing or taking a whole fist up his ass. It filled Seifer with the sort of fuzzy feelings he was pretty sure were meant to be reserved for watching the sunset together or hand holding on the beach, but fuck it, this was who they were.
“Love you,” the words were barely even murmured, just his lips moving against Squall’s skin, but that wasn’t what mattered. “Want me to move?”
“If you don’t,” Squall said, almost as quietly, “I’ll take your dick off with Lion Heart.”
Seifer laughed, and curled his fingers, marvelling at the way Squall’s body stretched around him even as he was reminded of his own neglected arousal, and just how long he’d been keeping his focus on his lover, whose abs were flexing in that tell-tale way that meant he was getting close. Seifer reached down with his other hand and tugged on his lover’s balls, sharply, getting another one of those gasps out of him, mixed with a whine that made him want to ignore what they had planned, slip his hand out, lube his cock up, and fuck Squall until neither of them could walk the next day.
“Told you, not allowed to come until I say so,” Seifer reminded him with another tug before pressing his mouth to the base of Squall’s dick, sucking at the skin there just to watch the ay that taut abdomen twitched, the way his back arched, the way he tightened around Seifer’s hand and then all but wailed at the feeling as Seifer slid the tiniest bit deeper and was pressed right against his lover’s prostate. Seifer lifted his face so he could talk again, “Something you wanted to say?”
It was probably somewhat unfair, but Seifer had never been the sort to skip taking the unfair advantage when it presented itself, and Squall was presenting himself oh so nicely for the taking. Of course Squall couldn’t find the words they had agreed would grant him his release, not as Seifer pulled his hand back until Squall’s pretty pink hole was once more stretched around the widest part of his hand, then pressed slowly back in, twisting his wrist a little as he went. He could barely find the breath to whine in desperate pleasure.
But Seifer could be patient - not often, but when it was worth his while, he could be patient. He stilled his hand again, just flexing his fingers slightly when he felt Squall was too relaxed, making sure he was always brushing against that sweet spot just enough to make Squall’s cock twitch and jump for him, always stopping just before the other man could tip over the edge.
“I can do this all night, princess,” he said, trying to make it sound like his fingers weren’t cramping and he wasn’t so hard it was painful. “You know what you need to say if you want it to stop.”
“Fuck - please!” Squall finally bit out, lifting his head to meet Seifer’s eyes in the mirror. If the blond didn’t know better, he’d almost swear there was the glimmer of unshed tears in those pretty eyes, but that couldn’t be the case. Just for a little extra torment, he pressed in fully once more, and quirked an eyebrow at Squall, who almost sobbed at the sensation, eyes closing for a second before he could speak again. “Please let me come.”
“That’s my good boy,” Seifer purred, and twisted his wrist, sliding his knuckles across Squall’s prostate without mercy. “You can come.”
He had barely finished the sentence before Squall was arching, the howl he made almost as satisfying as a true scream would have been, and just as loud, body tense as he came without Seifer even needing to touch his cock. As he came down, settling onto the bed properly, still twitching with aftershocks, Seifer soothed him with little caresses and kisses, before slowly starting to ease his hand free.
“No, full - wait, you didn’t….” Squall managed, words clearly difficult, which made Seifer feel pretty smug about everything, even if he couldn’t really brag about it in detail. “You can fuck me?”
Yeah, adorable bleary-eyed, fucked-out Squall was absolutely Seifer’s favourite Squall. Well, second favourite, just after desperate, begging and needy Squall, but it was a close thing.
“I’m good, stormcloud, you just lie there,” he said, as he started to use the lubed hand, still warm from Squall’s body, to frantically work his own straining cock. “Don’t need much, just gonna look at this greedy hole of yours, all stretched out because you were so good for me, wanted to take everything I could give you.”
“Always want all of you,” Squall managed, words slurring a little with just how exhausted he clearly was. “Love you.”
And those were the words that tipped the blond over the edge, grunting as he came, creamy white spurts dripping down to cover Squall’s sore and open hole. When he’d caught his breath, Seifer let his fingertips play with the mess for a moment, slipping some of his spend inside Squall, before he leaned over and grabbed the wipes for cleanup. As pretty as the visual was, he’d never hear the end of it if he let Squall sleep covered in jizz again.
“Love you too, princess,” he whispered, when he was done wiping them both down and wrestling a half-asleep Squall under the blankets. “But next anniversary, I’m picking something that doesn’t take three hours of prep work, alright?”
“Whatever,” muttered Squall, already asleep.