Flashbang
Title: Flashbang
Fandom: FFVIII
Pairing: Seifer/Irvine
Rating: Mostly cock.
Summary: It wouldn't be a problem if it weren't for Irvine's ego.
They're too alike, and that's always been the problem. They both love flash, they both need to be at the center of attention. They're meticulous in their showmanship--everything is just so, each wild act going off without a hitch, planned down to the last detail. For Seifer, it's a polished victory pose, for Irvine, it's that bullet hitting the mark exactly where he had intended.
It's no wonder they're the same way in bed--heated, persistent, precise.
Seifer hisses between clenched teeth as Irvine exhales a warm breath across his stomach, his fingers firmly twined in Irvine's hair. "Fuck," he says, groping for a better word and coming up with nothing.
"You're not giving up on me yet, are you?" There's a chuckle hidden in Irvine's voice, gliding over the lazy drawl of his words. Seifer scowls.
"Shut up, Kinneas," he tells the cowboy, and closes his eyes as Irvine's lips trace a path down his waist. It wouldn't be as irritating if Irvine wasn't so damn sure of how good he actually was.
--
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SEV. I AM SORRY I FAIL AT POSTING LATE. D:
Fandom: FFVIII
Pairing: Seifer/Irvine
Rating: Mostly cock.
Summary: It wouldn't be a problem if it weren't for Irvine's ego.
They're too alike, and that's always been the problem. They both love flash, they both need to be at the center of attention. They're meticulous in their showmanship--everything is just so, each wild act going off without a hitch, planned down to the last detail. For Seifer, it's a polished victory pose, for Irvine, it's that bullet hitting the mark exactly where he had intended.
It's no wonder they're the same way in bed--heated, persistent, precise.
Seifer hisses between clenched teeth as Irvine exhales a warm breath across his stomach, his fingers firmly twined in Irvine's hair. "Fuck," he says, groping for a better word and coming up with nothing.
"You're not giving up on me yet, are you?" There's a chuckle hidden in Irvine's voice, gliding over the lazy drawl of his words. Seifer scowls.
"Shut up, Kinneas," he tells the cowboy, and closes his eyes as Irvine's lips trace a path down his waist. It wouldn't be as irritating if Irvine wasn't so damn sure of how good he actually was.
--
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SEV. I AM SORRY I FAIL AT POSTING LATE. D: