Disclaimer: You know, I’ve completely forgot about these! Are they REALLY necessary??
Notes: This chapter’s a tad more serious. I’m not sure what got into me. Just kinda sweet and mellow. Nothing all that amusing in my opinion.
Time after Time
Chapter 12 - Ongaku (music)
The melody was soft and thick with a rumbling burr that seemed to tickle your senses just right. Perhaps it was just one of those small talents he had acquired as a child when there hadn’t been much to do. He didn’t sing much, having always thought his voice should be spared for only the most important things in life. Conversations that couldn’t be avoided. The last resort of calling for help. Moans of complete and utter pleasure. Well, perhaps not that last one. He hadn’t considered it as a child.
Squall ran his slim fingers through his hair, bringing them down in front of his face so that he may look upon them. His fingers…Someone had once told him that he had beautiful hands. How they had come to that conclusion was beyond him. He hardly had his hands outside of their usual place within his gloves. They had been described to be like sticks of ivory. Well, perhaps old ivory in his personal opinion. His skin had that discrete yellow tinge from his more than obvious Asian background.
The SeeD commander sat up slowly, the rumpled sheets falling down his hips with the effort. He stretched, rubbing his back with his right hand, trying in vain to ease the tight muscles. He smelled like sex. He needed a shower. Slowly, he rolled himself off the unusually firm mattress. But as soon as his feet touched the course carpet, an arm-twisted around his thighs, a heady murmur escaping into the air.
“Where exactly do ya think yer goin’, Mister?”
Squall reached back to ruffle the tangled butterscotch locks of his drowsy lover. Flitting his gaze over his shoulder, a sweet chuckle escaped his pale lips. Sitting down upon the mattress, he lay back, resting his head upon the small of his companion’s back.
“Well…I was planning on taking a shower this morning. If you couldn’t smell it, we reek of stale sex.”
“Mmm…So we do. I always found the smell rather attractive…Like an aphrodisiac…”
Irvine reached over with a callused hand, petting his commander’s inner thigh suggestively. He purred deeply, violet eyes narrowing.
“You would, wouldn’t you?” Squall laughed, taking Irvine’s hand within his own, running his thumb over the top of the sniper’s hand. “And you’re right…But I highly doubt anyone else would appreciate the scent of our spent. Besides,” he slapped a rather creamy cheek that lay so close to where his head rested. “I’m sure you’ll coax me into rutting in some public place soon enough.”
A rather undignified sound escaped the prone body of the ever-tempting cowboy, a pout upon his swollen lips. “You didn’t have to slap me quite so hard, Stormy…Besides, what if I wanna rut now? I couldn’t have said it better myself! On second thought…” A dirty little smile caressed his features.
Squall rolled his stormy gray eyes, sitting up again. Sighing softly, he trailed a finger down Irvine’s spine. The lone digit catalogued the small shiver, tracing down over Irvine’s stretched opening. Smiling, Squall rubbed at the dried semen he found there. “As I was saying before…A shower would be in order.”
Warmth. That was rather an unusual thing to wake up to. Either he was cold due to the low setting on his thermometer or because they were staying in this drafty tent. And yet, here he was…Lying beneath his covers, warm and toasty. Something warm brushed his cheek, something as soft as Chocobo down. He cracked open an eye. Gold…
Seifer’s eyes shut slowly as a contented smile washed over his face. Perhaps he’d just revel in the warmth just a bit longer…Last night had been wonderful. Though they hadn’t gone as far as he would have liked (mostly due to Zell’s insecurities), they had shared several hours of innocent touching and kissing. Seifer chuckled lowly, readjusting the adorable bundle of Zell in his arms. It all felt so right…So…Familiar…Déjà vu…
Slender fingers twisted at several knobs, fiddling with them till the water was hot and steaming. It wouldn’t take long before the room would be filled with moisture and become humid. Squall stepped into the shower cubical, sliding the ornate glass door shut behind his naked form. He tilted his head back beneath the spray of hot water, closing his eyes in pleasure.
A soft shuffling was heard throughout the bathroom as the metal door slid aside, then shut. Squall couldn’t contain a smile. So his lover had finally finished pouting and decided that bathing was a considerable course of action…Squall wiped the fog from a section of the glass door, gazing out from beneath the form of a crouching lion. He was rather satisfied with how the craftsman had frosted the glass. After having the bathroom tailored to his liking, it had occurred to him that perhaps he’d do the rest of his quarters.
Irvine smiled, placing a palm on the door keeping him from the one his heart desired most. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to the glass where he could see his commander. Much to his delight, his little display of affection was returned. Taking hold of the silver bar, he pulled the door aside, climbing in.
“Do you always shower with the water this hot?”
“Mind turning it down a bit? I think I’m burning up…”
Squall ducked beneath the spray, turning the clear blue glass knob to the left a little more. Looking back over his shoulder, he spit out some water, squinting up at Irvine. “How’s that?”
“Better. Thank you, Stormy.”
Irvine wrapped his arms around Squall’s waist, pressing butterfly kisses to his neck and shoulders. Leaning over his boyfriend, he snatched the large body sponge from where it hung beneath the showerhead.
“Pass me some of that soap you like. I think I finally used up that cinnamon stuff.”
“Have you now? Here…”
The drenched cowboy squeezed a liberal amount of apricot bath gel onto the sponge. Setting the container aside on one of the built in ridges lining the way, he brought the firm sponge in contact with Squall’s pale skin.
Slide. Scrub. Scrub. Scrub. Slide. Slide.
The pale young man leaned back, resting his head upon the shoulder of the taller youth. Some time later, he noticed that the sponge had stopped its washing, now lying upon the shower’s obsidian tile.
Obeying without a word, Squall closed his eyes again. What was that sound…? Definitely music…Violins? That sounded about right…Squall had gone to the Opera enough times with his father in the last year or so to identify different classical instruments. But why was there violin music within their quarters? He was sure that he hadn’t turned on the stereo before going to the bathroom…And from the sound of it, the music seemed to be coming from another source.
“Nice, isn’t it? I told Quisty she could use your parlor. Somethin’ ‘bout how she gets inspiration from the view and the sunlight…”
“I wish you had asked me.” Flat, monotone.
“I know, I know…I thought you might like it though. You never do take me with you to those fancy shows.” Soft, sweet.
A gentle kiss.
“I knew you’d like it!”
“Shh…Let’s enjoy it.”
Squall bent down to pick up the forgotten sponge, adding some more of the fairly inexpensive bath gel to it. Lathering it slowly within his hands, Squall turned around to face his tall lover. Slowly he moved the sponge over the slim chest he had become to used to sleeping against. Then came the arms…Arms he had spent so much time in. Whether just lying there, or in times of passion, they had always been there. He washed each body part with slow reverence, mentally listing reasons why he loved each part so much.
“Sometimes I think you’re havin’ conversations without me, my little commander.”
“You’re not missing much. Just thinking to myself.”
“But I like talking to you…” Irvine cooed softly, knocking the sponge from Squall’s limp hand. He moved past him to step into the rush of water pouring from the spout and showerhead. “Mmm…Makes me jealous of you…You’re talking to yourself and not to me.”
Squall laughed lightly, hugging himself close to the tall cowboy. His hands found their way into Butterscotch locks, now darkened to almost crimson with all the water. “You don’t make sense sometimes.”
Woodrow Starfish III scratched his chin slowly, deep in thought? What was that word again? Oh bother…He set his pen down, closing the small leather ledger for the moment. He leaned over, stretching his little body in hopes of reaching a thick textbook to his right. He staggered a bit, flailing his arms as his paw closed around the spine of the dark blue volume. Righting himself, the Tonberry shook his head to clear it, chattering in its native tongue. Burying his nose in the book, he reached for a highlighter so that he could underline what he had found.
Two figures peaked into the small tent, both with looks of curiosity and confusion upon their attractive faces. The shorter of the two murmured something to his companion, his hair still damp from bathing. The taller one nodded in agreement, one arm slung around the smaller’s waist, the other bracing itself against the tent frame.
“I know what you mean, Zell. I didn’t think she’d actually go forward with that education system thing. I thought she was kidding…”
“I think we keep underestimatin’ her…Getting kinda scary…”
“Is it our turn to make the slop?”
“I think so…I dunno how to do it but Selphie said she left us instructions. She went off somewhere with her cult.”
“Did she now? When did she leave?”
“I dunno, this paper was taped to the tent flap. It was so close to the ground I almost didn’t see it.”
“Let me see that…”
I’ve decided to go and follow the Tonberries back to their village. Woodrow kept ‘telling’ (well, write. His English isn’t too good. But he’s working on it! Did you see that English As a Second Language book I gave him? Isn’t it cute?? It has these great little pictures in it!) these GREAT stories about the Tonberry King and I just HAD to meet him! I’ll be back later, so just do what I do, ‘kay? Kaaaay!
P.S. I attached the recipe to for the Ton Gruel. Just make sure to lead them in their morning calisthenics after!!
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