Author's Note: Um...yeah...
Dedication: And thus I deliver the lemon.
DISCLAIMER: I. Do. Not. Own. Them. Nor am I making any money from this.
By Alexis Logain
Squall Leonhart - hero of the world, Lion of Balamb, and supposed ruler of Esthar - sighed as he stared at his television. The news was on and they were currently covering world politics. Which meant that, because it was an Estharian station, they'd be focusing on him. Glaring at the inanimate object, he reached for the remote to flip changes when a familiar face was shown on the screen. Squall froze, fingers on the channel button, while Seifer's irritated and bored face stared back at him. A young, spunky reporter in her mid-twenties grinned at Seifer then turned to the camera, her short hair shifting softly around her face.
"Hello. This is Tricia Belgarde with CWET Channel 4 and I'm here in Balamb, speaking with current Headmaster - Seifer Almasy. As it is well known, he cut off all ties with the Estharian government four months back, claiming that there were political disputes with the late President Loire. Tell me Headmaster Almasy, will Balamb-G be realigning with Esthar now that President Loire's estranged son, Squall Leonhart - who is also acting Commander of Balamb-G - is taking over?" The reporter smiled and held the microphone up to Seifer. As far as Squall could tell, they were in the Parking Garage and Seifer looked like he was ready to leave.
"Well, as far as I know, Commander Leonhart has yet to decide on if he chooses to take the position or not," Seifer answered smoothly. Squall glared at the television and at the ease Seifer had when dealing with the press. Squall hated the press...and he damn near hated Seifer for being so eloquent. "I have no problems with Squall and if he does decide to take the position, Balamb-G will be more than happy to re-open communication with Esthar."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Well, then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Now if you'll excuse me..." Seifer smiled once more into the camera and slid easily into a large S.U.V.
"That was Headmaster Almasy of Balamb-G and this is Tricia Belgarde signing off. Back to you, Ashley." The screen flickered back a news anchor dressed in a classy blue suit before Squall flicked the television off.
Narrowing his eyes angrily, Squall got up from his couch and walked over to the small overhanging balcony that was attached to his loft. He didn't want the stupid position - he was awful in public positions. Wasn't that one of the reasons Cid gave the Headmaster position to Seifer and not him? He didn't want to be a leader - he hated leading people. It sucked. Almost as much as Sei-...
Squall blinked. Where did that thought come from. Sighing, he turned away from the window and glanced around his loft. It was darker than it had been in a while - he had been gradually adding more furniture and art since he got back from Balamb, using more black and gray than he had before. The effect was interesting - but sometimes he felt like adding a bunch of lamps to brighten it up a little more. He had only been back at Balamb-G for a couple of weeks but had gotten used to the light and airy way of decorating that Seifer had.
Dammit. Squall dragged a hand through his wild hair, scowling. He didn't want to think about the blonde ever again and here he was, seeing him on TV, thinking about his room, remembering the conversations he had with and about him...
He was getting obsessive. He was acting like Rinoa.
That was just wrong.
Breathing out a deep sigh, Squall padded from his living room and behind the twisted blue glass enclosure that housed his bed. He flopped down onto the mattress and let his mind wander. His thoughts flew from subject to subject, and then settled on his favorite fantasy: a certain tall blonde whom he couldn’t stop thinking about. The most recent one included Seifer showing up on his doorstep. He didn’t beg or plead for forgiveness – that kind of groveling didn’t quite fit with Seifer’s personality. Squall wouldn’t mind if he did…but in his fantasies, Seifer was always the strong silent type that threw Squall up against a wall and had his way with him. Squall’s hand traveled down his torso, slowly caressing his taught stomach while his other struggled with the buttons to his jeans. Once they were unbuttoned, Squall’s eyes glazed over while the fantasy unfolded in his mind.
Someone was pounding on his door and Squall, irritated, got up from the research paper he was reading at the kitchen table to answer it.
"What?" he barked as he flung the door open and then froze when he saw it was Seifer. "Seifer…" The blonde ignored his words and pushed his way inside, slamming the door shut behind him. "What are you – " Squall’s question was cut off short as Seifer reached out and grabbed his shirt collar, tugging him forward for a passionate kiss. Squall moaned, feeling the blonde’s erection press into his thigh and Seifer’s hand travelling down towards his own.
Squall’s hand wrapped around his cock while he moaned loudly into the air. In his mind, Seifer was on his knees, sucking him off while in reality, his warm, rough-skinned hand was busy moving up and down his slick member. His sensitive flesh was practically tingling from the sensations. Moans and groans escaped from his lips as he whispered Seifer’s name into the quiet room.
"Unnnh…Sei…fer…oh Hyne yes…" Squall’s body tensed and he slowed his hand, wanting to draw out the feeling as long as possible. Relaxing his body, Squall held onto his erection with one hand and rubbed along the head of his cock with the other, smearing precome onto his skin. He scraped a fingernail across the bottom of the tip, shuddering at the sensation, and began to pick his pace once more. As one hand snaked back up his chest, sliding under his shirt to tweak at his nipple, Squall bit his lower lip and tossed his head back with a loud groan.
"Oh gods…Seifer…" he whimpered, squeezing his cock roughly and arching his back. Squall’s body tensed and the muscles in his right arm burned, but he kept moving his hand against his flesh. His mouth opened wide in a silent scream as inky black flooded against his eyes and bitter white come pulsed out from his body, pooling in his hand and on his stomach.
Slowly his breathing began to regulate and his heartbeat returned to normal. Squall cracked on eye open and then opened the other, making himself sit up. Walking into the bathroom, he scowled at his reflection – if he couldn’t stop thinking about Seifer soon, he’d wear off the skin on the palm of his hand.
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