FFVIII: Deadweight
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Warnings: Angst, deathfic, sap, smut, supernatural
Rating: NC17
Summary: Squall comes back. Sort of. For fated_children.
Seifer woke when the door opened. He lay still, hand reaching for the gun he kept close at all times. He would've liked to face life with a gunblade and a fire spell, but sometimes you had to take a break from having your memories sucked out, and you just don't look impressive wielding a gunblade in only your boxers. For that effect, you needed to be dressed, preferably with a trenchcoat... So that was why he kept the gun, anyway. Much as he loved Hyperion, it wouldn't protect him if an assassin came in the night.
Not that he felt that much safer with the gun.
There was no light on. Seifer pushed himself up, slowly, feeling a little lost in the big bed. Normally, he shared it with Squall, and strangely enough, Leonhart was the cuddling type. He liked to sleep wrapped all round you. So Seifer felt a little lost now that Squall was on a mission.
Besides, Squall would be kind of useful in the event of an assassin's attack. If nothing else, he'd make a great shield.
Or more likely a reason to get all protective.
Squall was due back the next day, which wouldn't do Seifer much good right then. He reached slowly for the gun, closing his fingers around it, feeling the chilly metal against the warm skin of his hand with a shiver. Then, quickly tossing the covers back, he lunged for the light and flicked it on.
“Squall?”
The brown-haired man just looked up at him, showing a hint of amusement in the curve of his lips, and nodded. He didn't say a thing and Seifer sighed softly, partly in relief, partly in annoyance. He got back into bed, pulling the covers over him and hiding the gun away where it belonged.
“What're you just standing there for? Turn off the light and get in already,” he said, trying to be grumpy, even though he was glad to see Squall there. He didn't like being surprised, after all, especially not now, his senses all on alert. He wasn't the most liked of people now, after all.
Still, Squall didn't say a word, but he padded over, doing as he was told and taking off his boots and hauling his shirt off, kicking his way out of his leather pants and slipping into bed. He wrapped himself around Seifer tightly, as he always did, and made Seifer shudder violently. He was shivering and his skin was ice cold.
“Fuck. You'll give me hypothermia... fuck, you might have hypothermia. Here.” Seifer wrapped the covers more tightly around them and pressed himself to Squall, trying to warm him with his own body heat. “What's up with you?”
Squall just shook his head, running his hand down Seifer's side, leaving a trail of goosebumps, Seifer shivering almost more than he was.
“Crap. What can I do to help warm you up?”
The faintest smirk on Squall's face was all the real answer he got, and he smirked in reply. Sex was, after all, a most efficient way of generating body heat, and it'd certainly get Squall's circulation going.
“Okay.”
He kicked the covers back a bit, so they weren't quite so entangled, and rolled on top of Squall, kissing him softly. Squall kissed back, even his lips and tongue chilly, but quickly warming. Seifer smoothed a hand over his cheek, through his hair, feeling the flesh all warm up under his hand and mouth.
“Fuck. How did you get so cold?”
Squall still didn't say a word, just pressed closer, pressing icy little kisses to Seifer's shoulder.
“All right, all right... if you're going to be all strong and silent on me...” Seifer muttered, but he was smiling as he pressed against Squall, hand sliding down his side and leaving warmth in its wake, fingers tracing the bones of his hips before Seifer shifting, lifting up a little and sliding his hand to wrap around Squall's cock, stroking slowly. “Maybe you should fuck me, more exercise for you that way, might improve your circulation,” he teased.
Squall shook his head wordlessly, leaning up, lips parted, to kiss at Seifer's neck, biting and nipping lightly.
“Fuck,” Seifer whispered, and pulled away, wriggling a little to partially escape the arms that wrapped around his waist, reaching for the tube hidden in the same sort of way the gun was. You never know when you're going to need either, right? “'kay. Spread your legs a bit.”
Squall did as he was told, and Seifer reached down, frowning at how cold all of Squall was, easing one slicked finger into him and moving it until the cold flesh warmed, which didn't take long. He pushed his finger deeper and added another, looking up at Squall to find him biting his lip, not making a sound.
“You're getting spoilt,” he whispered, and smiled back when Squall flashed him a little, amused smile. He pushed a third finger in, grinning in satisfaction when Squall arched up. Finally, beautiful as the sight was, he leaned down to kiss Squall, speaking against his lips. “Ready?”
He felt the nod and shifted, feeling Squall's legs wrap around his hips as he pressed his cock against Squall's entrance, moaning softly. He pushed in slowly - torturously - but he knew that pace wouldn't last. Squall's cool hand moved over his shoulder, down his arm, and he pulled out, thrusting back in hard and making Squall's body buck and squeeze beneath his.
“Fuck,” he whispered, closing his eyes and moving, hips moving erratically, lost in pleasure. He couldn't focus on Squall, couldn't hear anything but his own moans and his own heavy breathing, couldn't feel anything but Squall's cold hands and the pleasure of being deep inside him, couldn't see anything beyond the inside of his own eyelids and couldn't be bothered opening his eyes when he was so lost in perfection. He lowered his head, biting at Squall's neck, trying to find his pulse point with lips and tongue.
He felt Squall's arms wrap around his neck, clinging, and he thrust harder, Squall's nails digging into his shoulder hard as he wrapped a hand around his cock and stroked, quickly, the way Squall loved it. He felt Squall squeeze around him tightly and he thrust harder one more time before he came too, pushing hard into Squall and throwing his head back, hearing his groan far too loudly, his breaths harsh and ragged.
“Fuck, Squall,” he whispered, laying there without moving. Squall's arms loosened a little, legs unwrapping reluctantly from his body, and he pulled out of him, laying on top of him for a moment. Squall's cold fingers moved through his hair, restless.
They lay like that for as long as it took, Seifer slowly getting his breathing back to normal. Finally he moved, sleepily, pressing his lips to Squall's softly, kissing him lazily.
“Love you,” he whispered, turning them over so that Squall draped over him instead, head resting on his chest, bodies wrapped around each other. He felt Griever against his skin, just over his heart, cold. He hoped it'd warm up soon.
He felt Squall's response mouthed against his skin before he slept. 'Love you too'.
----
“Squall?” he asked, sleepily, sitting up. He felt a small weight fall off his chest and frowned, reaching for it, pulling it all out from under his side and frowning at the clinking of metal chain. Griever.
He felt something take hold of him then, a cold that made him shiver as violently as when Squall slipped into bed with him chilly and almost like the Ice Princess he'd been nicknamed. He shrugged slightly, inspecting the chain to see if it was broken. But it wasn't.
“Squall?” he asked again, getting up. Squall's shirt and shoes were there, on the floor, his leather pants draped over the end of the bed, but still no sign of Squall. He padded into the bathroom, but there wasn't a trace of steam from a shower or anything.
He tried not to get worried; after all, Squall had to be somewhere close. He hadn't taken his shoes, even if he had found some of his other clothes somewhere in his lover's room that was more a shared room than anything.
He walked out of the bathroom with a thoughtful expression, lifting the chain of Griever over his head and letting it drop, the heavy pendant dragging a little against his neck. It was like a definite weight, just over his heart. He ran his fingers over it, feeling the metal warm and smooth, and smiled a little. Squall couldn't have been gone long.
The telephone rang and he walked over to get it, cradling the phone between shoulder and ear as he brushed his fingers over the pendant, absorbing every detail. “Yeah?”
“Seifer, it's Quistis.”
“Hey Quistis.” He leaned against the table, not paying much attention to her voice. If he had, he might have heard her breath catching. “Mission go okay? Enjoyed a nice relaxing shower yet?”
“We're not due back at Garden for a few more hours, you know that,” she said, warily.
“Right, you're not, but... you were on the mission with Squall, right?”
She sounded suspiciously like she was crying. “Yes, that's why... oh, Seifer...”
For a moment, there was a rustling, and suddenly another voice took over. “Seifer? I'm sorry, Quistis just needs a minute...”
There was, for a moment, the sound of crying and a quick clatter of voices and more shuffling in the background. The mouthpiece was covered and he could hear Xu saying something, but couldn't make out any words.
He tapped his fingers against the side of the phone, impatient and worried, waiting for her to turn her attention back to the phone and him. He was sharp when she did.
“Xu, what's going on?”
“Are you sitting down?” she asked, in that way that's supposed to help you prepare for bad news. But when you hear those words, oh, you just know that someone has died. It suddenly drags down on you, feeling worse than if they just said it, straight out, blunt, truthful. Seifer could've handled it better if they'd done that. But instead they beat around the bush, trying to be kind, and instead letting you know that something is wrong - badly wrong - but not what.
The weight over his heart suddenly seemed to drag a little more, right on schedule, and he swallowed hard. He dragged a chair out, dropped into it.
He tried to be casual. Really, he did. It just doesn't work very well in times like those. “Yeah... who's dead?”
There was a long pause. Finally, Xu took a deep breath. He could just imagine her sitting there, steadying herself, reading herself. He clenched his fist around Griever, feeling the points of the lion's mane digging into his palm.
“Damn it, Xu, just spit it out!” he said, finally.
She sounded more as if she choked it out. “Squall.”
“What?” It was stupid. Squall had been home, had slept in his bed just the night before. It did make sense, though. The coldness of Squall's skin, the way he hadn't spoken a word, the way he couldn't find his pulse... But there were his boots, and his shirt, and Griever around his neck... But no. Squall had been solid, real, warm, after a while. He hadn't been a ghost and besides, Seifer didn't believe in things like that.
“We have his body here,” she said, softly. “It was an accident. A car accident, we found him in the ditch... freezing cold and wet, already dead. Someone must've robbed him... his clothes are gone. And his pendant...”
“I have them,” Seifer whispered, thinking about the shoes, the shirt, the pants draped over the end of the bed. All there, all with him. All safe.
He heard her confusion. “What?”
“Nothing. Just... don't worry about it.”
He put the phone down. He put a hand on the pendant and thought about it, wondered about all those stories he'd heard about dying spirits wandering back home to find their loved ones. He wondered if he could not believe in the supernatural anymore. And he put his head in his hands, and wondered if he should call Laguna, since he had been Squall's boyfriend and all, or whether Garden would do it.
And when he allowed himself a second of not thinking, he felt the tears rising, about to choke him.
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Warnings: Angst, deathfic, sap, smut, supernatural
Rating: NC17
Summary: Squall comes back. Sort of. For fated_children.
Seifer woke when the door opened. He lay still, hand reaching for the gun he kept close at all times. He would've liked to face life with a gunblade and a fire spell, but sometimes you had to take a break from having your memories sucked out, and you just don't look impressive wielding a gunblade in only your boxers. For that effect, you needed to be dressed, preferably with a trenchcoat... So that was why he kept the gun, anyway. Much as he loved Hyperion, it wouldn't protect him if an assassin came in the night.
Not that he felt that much safer with the gun.
There was no light on. Seifer pushed himself up, slowly, feeling a little lost in the big bed. Normally, he shared it with Squall, and strangely enough, Leonhart was the cuddling type. He liked to sleep wrapped all round you. So Seifer felt a little lost now that Squall was on a mission.
Besides, Squall would be kind of useful in the event of an assassin's attack. If nothing else, he'd make a great shield.
Or more likely a reason to get all protective.
Squall was due back the next day, which wouldn't do Seifer much good right then. He reached slowly for the gun, closing his fingers around it, feeling the chilly metal against the warm skin of his hand with a shiver. Then, quickly tossing the covers back, he lunged for the light and flicked it on.
“Squall?”
The brown-haired man just looked up at him, showing a hint of amusement in the curve of his lips, and nodded. He didn't say a thing and Seifer sighed softly, partly in relief, partly in annoyance. He got back into bed, pulling the covers over him and hiding the gun away where it belonged.
“What're you just standing there for? Turn off the light and get in already,” he said, trying to be grumpy, even though he was glad to see Squall there. He didn't like being surprised, after all, especially not now, his senses all on alert. He wasn't the most liked of people now, after all.
Still, Squall didn't say a word, but he padded over, doing as he was told and taking off his boots and hauling his shirt off, kicking his way out of his leather pants and slipping into bed. He wrapped himself around Seifer tightly, as he always did, and made Seifer shudder violently. He was shivering and his skin was ice cold.
“Fuck. You'll give me hypothermia... fuck, you might have hypothermia. Here.” Seifer wrapped the covers more tightly around them and pressed himself to Squall, trying to warm him with his own body heat. “What's up with you?”
Squall just shook his head, running his hand down Seifer's side, leaving a trail of goosebumps, Seifer shivering almost more than he was.
“Crap. What can I do to help warm you up?”
The faintest smirk on Squall's face was all the real answer he got, and he smirked in reply. Sex was, after all, a most efficient way of generating body heat, and it'd certainly get Squall's circulation going.
“Okay.”
He kicked the covers back a bit, so they weren't quite so entangled, and rolled on top of Squall, kissing him softly. Squall kissed back, even his lips and tongue chilly, but quickly warming. Seifer smoothed a hand over his cheek, through his hair, feeling the flesh all warm up under his hand and mouth.
“Fuck. How did you get so cold?”
Squall still didn't say a word, just pressed closer, pressing icy little kisses to Seifer's shoulder.
“All right, all right... if you're going to be all strong and silent on me...” Seifer muttered, but he was smiling as he pressed against Squall, hand sliding down his side and leaving warmth in its wake, fingers tracing the bones of his hips before Seifer shifting, lifting up a little and sliding his hand to wrap around Squall's cock, stroking slowly. “Maybe you should fuck me, more exercise for you that way, might improve your circulation,” he teased.
Squall shook his head wordlessly, leaning up, lips parted, to kiss at Seifer's neck, biting and nipping lightly.
“Fuck,” Seifer whispered, and pulled away, wriggling a little to partially escape the arms that wrapped around his waist, reaching for the tube hidden in the same sort of way the gun was. You never know when you're going to need either, right? “'kay. Spread your legs a bit.”
Squall did as he was told, and Seifer reached down, frowning at how cold all of Squall was, easing one slicked finger into him and moving it until the cold flesh warmed, which didn't take long. He pushed his finger deeper and added another, looking up at Squall to find him biting his lip, not making a sound.
“You're getting spoilt,” he whispered, and smiled back when Squall flashed him a little, amused smile. He pushed a third finger in, grinning in satisfaction when Squall arched up. Finally, beautiful as the sight was, he leaned down to kiss Squall, speaking against his lips. “Ready?”
He felt the nod and shifted, feeling Squall's legs wrap around his hips as he pressed his cock against Squall's entrance, moaning softly. He pushed in slowly - torturously - but he knew that pace wouldn't last. Squall's cool hand moved over his shoulder, down his arm, and he pulled out, thrusting back in hard and making Squall's body buck and squeeze beneath his.
“Fuck,” he whispered, closing his eyes and moving, hips moving erratically, lost in pleasure. He couldn't focus on Squall, couldn't hear anything but his own moans and his own heavy breathing, couldn't feel anything but Squall's cold hands and the pleasure of being deep inside him, couldn't see anything beyond the inside of his own eyelids and couldn't be bothered opening his eyes when he was so lost in perfection. He lowered his head, biting at Squall's neck, trying to find his pulse point with lips and tongue.
He felt Squall's arms wrap around his neck, clinging, and he thrust harder, Squall's nails digging into his shoulder hard as he wrapped a hand around his cock and stroked, quickly, the way Squall loved it. He felt Squall squeeze around him tightly and he thrust harder one more time before he came too, pushing hard into Squall and throwing his head back, hearing his groan far too loudly, his breaths harsh and ragged.
“Fuck, Squall,” he whispered, laying there without moving. Squall's arms loosened a little, legs unwrapping reluctantly from his body, and he pulled out of him, laying on top of him for a moment. Squall's cold fingers moved through his hair, restless.
They lay like that for as long as it took, Seifer slowly getting his breathing back to normal. Finally he moved, sleepily, pressing his lips to Squall's softly, kissing him lazily.
“Love you,” he whispered, turning them over so that Squall draped over him instead, head resting on his chest, bodies wrapped around each other. He felt Griever against his skin, just over his heart, cold. He hoped it'd warm up soon.
He felt Squall's response mouthed against his skin before he slept. 'Love you too'.
----
“Squall?” he asked, sleepily, sitting up. He felt a small weight fall off his chest and frowned, reaching for it, pulling it all out from under his side and frowning at the clinking of metal chain. Griever.
He felt something take hold of him then, a cold that made him shiver as violently as when Squall slipped into bed with him chilly and almost like the Ice Princess he'd been nicknamed. He shrugged slightly, inspecting the chain to see if it was broken. But it wasn't.
“Squall?” he asked again, getting up. Squall's shirt and shoes were there, on the floor, his leather pants draped over the end of the bed, but still no sign of Squall. He padded into the bathroom, but there wasn't a trace of steam from a shower or anything.
He tried not to get worried; after all, Squall had to be somewhere close. He hadn't taken his shoes, even if he had found some of his other clothes somewhere in his lover's room that was more a shared room than anything.
He walked out of the bathroom with a thoughtful expression, lifting the chain of Griever over his head and letting it drop, the heavy pendant dragging a little against his neck. It was like a definite weight, just over his heart. He ran his fingers over it, feeling the metal warm and smooth, and smiled a little. Squall couldn't have been gone long.
The telephone rang and he walked over to get it, cradling the phone between shoulder and ear as he brushed his fingers over the pendant, absorbing every detail. “Yeah?”
“Seifer, it's Quistis.”
“Hey Quistis.” He leaned against the table, not paying much attention to her voice. If he had, he might have heard her breath catching. “Mission go okay? Enjoyed a nice relaxing shower yet?”
“We're not due back at Garden for a few more hours, you know that,” she said, warily.
“Right, you're not, but... you were on the mission with Squall, right?”
She sounded suspiciously like she was crying. “Yes, that's why... oh, Seifer...”
For a moment, there was a rustling, and suddenly another voice took over. “Seifer? I'm sorry, Quistis just needs a minute...”
There was, for a moment, the sound of crying and a quick clatter of voices and more shuffling in the background. The mouthpiece was covered and he could hear Xu saying something, but couldn't make out any words.
He tapped his fingers against the side of the phone, impatient and worried, waiting for her to turn her attention back to the phone and him. He was sharp when she did.
“Xu, what's going on?”
“Are you sitting down?” she asked, in that way that's supposed to help you prepare for bad news. But when you hear those words, oh, you just know that someone has died. It suddenly drags down on you, feeling worse than if they just said it, straight out, blunt, truthful. Seifer could've handled it better if they'd done that. But instead they beat around the bush, trying to be kind, and instead letting you know that something is wrong - badly wrong - but not what.
The weight over his heart suddenly seemed to drag a little more, right on schedule, and he swallowed hard. He dragged a chair out, dropped into it.
He tried to be casual. Really, he did. It just doesn't work very well in times like those. “Yeah... who's dead?”
There was a long pause. Finally, Xu took a deep breath. He could just imagine her sitting there, steadying herself, reading herself. He clenched his fist around Griever, feeling the points of the lion's mane digging into his palm.
“Damn it, Xu, just spit it out!” he said, finally.
She sounded more as if she choked it out. “Squall.”
“What?” It was stupid. Squall had been home, had slept in his bed just the night before. It did make sense, though. The coldness of Squall's skin, the way he hadn't spoken a word, the way he couldn't find his pulse... But there were his boots, and his shirt, and Griever around his neck... But no. Squall had been solid, real, warm, after a while. He hadn't been a ghost and besides, Seifer didn't believe in things like that.
“We have his body here,” she said, softly. “It was an accident. A car accident, we found him in the ditch... freezing cold and wet, already dead. Someone must've robbed him... his clothes are gone. And his pendant...”
“I have them,” Seifer whispered, thinking about the shoes, the shirt, the pants draped over the end of the bed. All there, all with him. All safe.
He heard her confusion. “What?”
“Nothing. Just... don't worry about it.”
He put the phone down. He put a hand on the pendant and thought about it, wondered about all those stories he'd heard about dying spirits wandering back home to find their loved ones. He wondered if he could not believe in the supernatural anymore. And he put his head in his hands, and wondered if he should call Laguna, since he had been Squall's boyfriend and all, or whether Garden would do it.
And when he allowed himself a second of not thinking, he felt the tears rising, about to choke him.