Shameful Secret
I can't believe I've sunk this low. For Hyne's sake may lightening strike me mercifully dead.
Seifer looked the way he always had, blond and bold and shining. Terrible in the darkness, a demon with an angels smile cold and cruel. Hungry. Seifer always looked hungry for something no one could give.
“You look like shit puberty boy.”
“…”
“Yeah, ever the talkative one. Why do I even bother trying to teach you anything, the only time you're interested in learning anything is with a blade digging into your side. Is that why you’re here Princess? Needed to feel a bit of steel slide inside?”
“…”
Seifer always smelled of hair gel and musk and men’s cologne. He tasted of sweat and cotton and kissed like conquering territory. Sharp nips with a stabbing tongue sweeping over and taking no prisoners even though there was no resistance to fight. There was no point in playing coy, they both knew how this would go.
“Why the fuck do you wear so many belts, not like you have anything left to call virtue, Heartless. Hyne you look like a rent boy, gonna try and charge me for a ride?”
“Wouldn’t that make you my pimp?”
Squall never talked during these trysts. He never bothered trying to make sense of Seifer or their relationship or why he kept coming back to get bruised and bloodied on a mattress as opposed to a training floor where he might learn something. It felt right, to be here and do this and *take* this while he could. Even if he didn’t know what this was or why he wanted it. It was enough to have something, someone, that he knew.
“Gonna pipe up huh? Better your pimp than your Daddy I guess, you’d make a lousy son. Nice daughter though. What do you say, short skirt, push up bra, those strappy heels that’ll make your calves *ache* for days? Make you proper bitch yet.”
They were just words. Seifer liked to talk and most of it was automatic at this point, an effort to get a rise out of Squall before getting a rise out of him. The brunet ignored it and stripped. Seifer took his time, looking his rival over and showing off a body most would drool over. Squall arched a brow, his equivalent of asking what the hold up was.
They’d beaten the crap out of each other enough times and bathed together afterwards that Squall had lost all appreciation for Seifer’s physique outside of what it could do for him long before they ended up fucking.
“One of these days I’m gonna fuck you until you fucking *break* you freaky little bastard. Hyne, what the hell do you want Leonhart?”
Sometimes Seifer showed an inkling of sense. Unfortunately for him, it was never when Squall was ready to call this off. Instead of answering with the rather obviously hoped for response, Squall struck out and grabbed the other boy by the jewels, tugging just shy of painful.
“Can’t get it up?”
Green eyes blazed with outrage. “Fuck you.”
“I’m not your whore.”
“Aren’t you? You walk into my room, throw yourself at me, molest me, rile me into bending you over frikken anything, doesn’t that make you my whore? Or would you do that for anyone? Dincht maybe? Kids been gazing after your ass long enough.” Seifer’s hand grips his wrist and Squall gives one warning squeeze before letting go, a hint of confusion crossing his eyes before being dismissed. “Fuck, you don’t even know who I’m talking about do you? Blind as a Red Bat puberty boy.”
“Quit talking.”
“Make me. Why don’t you actually do something instead of laying there like a dead chick?”
The dare was there, a blatant challenge and Squall never, ever backed down when Seifer threw out the gauntlet. Even though the brunet never won by any real stretch, even though they both cheated. Possibly they were both masochists. Possibly Seifer just liked seeing him on his knees.
It wasn’t like Squall was doing anything *else* with his mouth.
Seifer looked the way he always had, blond and bold and shining. Terrible in the darkness, a demon with an angels smile cold and cruel. Hungry. Seifer always looked hungry for something no one could give.
“You look like shit puberty boy.”
“…”
“Yeah, ever the talkative one. Why do I even bother trying to teach you anything, the only time you're interested in learning anything is with a blade digging into your side. Is that why you’re here Princess? Needed to feel a bit of steel slide inside?”
“…”
Seifer always smelled of hair gel and musk and men’s cologne. He tasted of sweat and cotton and kissed like conquering territory. Sharp nips with a stabbing tongue sweeping over and taking no prisoners even though there was no resistance to fight. There was no point in playing coy, they both knew how this would go.
“Why the fuck do you wear so many belts, not like you have anything left to call virtue, Heartless. Hyne you look like a rent boy, gonna try and charge me for a ride?”
“Wouldn’t that make you my pimp?”
Squall never talked during these trysts. He never bothered trying to make sense of Seifer or their relationship or why he kept coming back to get bruised and bloodied on a mattress as opposed to a training floor where he might learn something. It felt right, to be here and do this and *take* this while he could. Even if he didn’t know what this was or why he wanted it. It was enough to have something, someone, that he knew.
“Gonna pipe up huh? Better your pimp than your Daddy I guess, you’d make a lousy son. Nice daughter though. What do you say, short skirt, push up bra, those strappy heels that’ll make your calves *ache* for days? Make you proper bitch yet.”
They were just words. Seifer liked to talk and most of it was automatic at this point, an effort to get a rise out of Squall before getting a rise out of him. The brunet ignored it and stripped. Seifer took his time, looking his rival over and showing off a body most would drool over. Squall arched a brow, his equivalent of asking what the hold up was.
They’d beaten the crap out of each other enough times and bathed together afterwards that Squall had lost all appreciation for Seifer’s physique outside of what it could do for him long before they ended up fucking.
“One of these days I’m gonna fuck you until you fucking *break* you freaky little bastard. Hyne, what the hell do you want Leonhart?”
Sometimes Seifer showed an inkling of sense. Unfortunately for him, it was never when Squall was ready to call this off. Instead of answering with the rather obviously hoped for response, Squall struck out and grabbed the other boy by the jewels, tugging just shy of painful.
“Can’t get it up?”
Green eyes blazed with outrage. “Fuck you.”
“I’m not your whore.”
“Aren’t you? You walk into my room, throw yourself at me, molest me, rile me into bending you over frikken anything, doesn’t that make you my whore? Or would you do that for anyone? Dincht maybe? Kids been gazing after your ass long enough.” Seifer’s hand grips his wrist and Squall gives one warning squeeze before letting go, a hint of confusion crossing his eyes before being dismissed. “Fuck, you don’t even know who I’m talking about do you? Blind as a Red Bat puberty boy.”
“Quit talking.”
“Make me. Why don’t you actually do something instead of laying there like a dead chick?”
The dare was there, a blatant challenge and Squall never, ever backed down when Seifer threw out the gauntlet. Even though the brunet never won by any real stretch, even though they both cheated. Possibly they were both masochists. Possibly Seifer just liked seeing him on his knees.
It wasn’t like Squall was doing anything *else* with his mouth.