Leave Your Hat On [FFVIII, Seifer/Squall, NC-17]
Title: Leave Your Hat On
Author/Artist: l_forevermore/ woebegone121 (We're the same person.)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slashy smexings, language, and was written at four in the morning.
Prompt: -Final Fantasy VIII: Seifer/Squall; slow sex; Seifer enjoys keeping Squall up all night and making him late for class
Word count: 2610
Summary: Seifer's not afraid to tease the lion.
A/N: This was written at four in the morning, and is my first FF8 fic. Named for the song I had on repeat all through writing this. A teensy bit late due to storms and out-of-town-ness. Cross-posted to my fic journal.
The first red flag went up that morning, when he found himself not quite as alone as he would have liked to be, big and blond still wrapped around him, still naked, and still smirking - as if he actually ever stopped. But Seifer simply rolled out of the tiny dorm bed and pulled on his pants nice and slow, then gave him a kiss that quickly morphed into a make-out session, with the pants nearly coming off again and Seifer nearly coming off in them. Unfortunately, Seifer apparently decided that he wasn’t as horny as usual, and headed out the door to leave Squall still wrapped in the blankets, horny, half-asleep, and highly confused. This was cause for deep concern, but Squall quickly pushed the thought out of his mind when he realized that he really only had about fifteen minutes to get from the dorms to Instructor Trepe’s classroom on the second floor, and the Trepies might very well kill him if he had to interrupt the lecture by being late.
He didn’t remember his worries until lunch, when Seifer caught him before he even set foot into the cafeteria, clapping a hand over his mouth and hauling him back into what was probably a supply closet. Squall had seen him coming, of course, had seen the trenchcoat before Seifer had pounced, because if he hadn’t, Seifer would probably have ended up flat on the ground with a boot in his balls before he could even think about fighting back. As it was, Squall let himself be hauled into the supply closet, because, really, who needed food when you could have quickie sex?
Seifer certainly seemed to be agreeing with him, one hand crawling up the back of Squall’s t-shirt, the other fisted in the belts crisscrossing across his ass, nipping and marking his neck like he owned it. Squall’s hands were attempting to push the white trenchcoat off of the blond’s shoulders, finally settling for just tucking them inside and looping his thumbs in the waistband of Seifer’s pants. He had planned to take the pants off, but Seifer was tracing the belts to the front of Squall’s leather pants and Seifer’s tongue was doing wicked things to his ear, and frankly, he forgot what his hands were supposed to be doing.
And then Seifer stopped.
Squall gave him a questioning look, breathless and highly confused and not satisfied, damn it. Seifer shrugged, an evil sort of glint in his green eyes and a mischievous edge to his smirk. “I’m hungry,” he said. And he turned and walked out of the supply closet.
It took a full minute for Squall to process this turn of events, and by the time he’d managed to come to the realization that Seifer had just interrupted sex for crappy cafeteria hotdogs - and that statement was just not right, no matter how many times Squall turned it over in his mind - Seifer was long gone, and Squall still had a raging hard-on.
That bastard.
He quietly seethed the rest of the afternoon away. This wasn’t much of a surprise, seeing as Squall seemed to do everything quietly, but it kept him from concentrating on the task at hand - studying for a test that was only a few days away. Finally, when his coiled energy proved to be too much and he found himself tapping the library table, much to the annoyance of the other cramming cadets, he neatly stacked his books, carefully pushed in his chair, and decided to head to the Training Center, half-expecting jumped in the hall or, Hyne forbid, look down to see Seifer smirking at him from beneath the table.
Two hours later, he had made a significant impact on the population of Grats, but was no closer to accomplishing his goal of shooting and slicing the frustration away. It didn’t help that he kept watching for glimpses of white and blond out of the corner of his eye every time he saw something move in the shadows of the Center, and it certainly didn’t help that he kept feeling eyes on his back. Every time he turned, however, there was nothing but an unlucky Grat. Somewhere between being vine-slapped awake for the fourth time and taking down a T-Rexaur, he had managed to almost completely convince himself that it was all in his head. Now if only he could convince his dick.
He was still irritated when he finally decided to leave some monsters for other people and made his way back to his dorm, stopping along the way to cleanse himself of Grat guts and discovering that he had quite a delicious burn in his muscles from the workout. The hot water soothed his ire further, lulling him into a state of annoyance, and maybe Seifer didn’t deserve to die for leaving him hot and bothered because of a craving for hotdogs, although a maiming seemed an appropriate punishment. Perhaps castration.
He was entertaining fantasies of said maiming all the way back to his dorm, and was therefore unprepared when the door seemingly opened itself.
“It’s about fuckin’ time.”
Squall gave him one of his Looks™ as a shirtless Seifer stepped aside to let him pass. He didn’t get far, however, because strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him back, Seifer’s nose burying in his neck.
“Mm,” the blond growled lowly. “You’re clean. Coulda asked for help with that.”
Squall scoffed quietly and pulled himself out of Seifer’s arms to put Lionheart safely away in its case before he was overtaken by the urge to chop off Seifer’s dick for teasing him. Seifer closed the door and leaned against it, a clear sign that he wasn’t about to leave, watching Squall take off his leather jacket with shameless interest.
“Aw,” Seifer cooed patronizingly when Squall continued to ignore him. “You’re still pissed off, aren’t you?”
The brunet didn’t even grace him with a glance, though he could hear Seifer moving across the tiny room to stand behind him and attempt to pull him into another embrace.
“How about I make it up to you?”
Squall shrugged out of his arms again. “I have class tomorrow morning.”
Seifer flopped back into Squall’s desk chair, watching the brunet with an amused gaze. “So do I.”
“I actually attend them.”
Seifer shrugged, crossing his arms. “So skip.”
Squall scowled. “I don’t want to skip.”
“Goody-goody.” Seifer uncrossed his arms, tilting back in the desk chair until he hit the edge of the desk, balanced easily on one foot. “You’d rather listen to a lecture about the weaknesses of monsters you’ve already beaten than let me fuck you through the bed?” He shook his head. “You’ve got your priorities all outta order, Squally-boy.”
Squall rolled his eyes. “Just get out so I can study.”
Seifer let the chair fall back onto all four legs and stood, and for a moment, Squall thought he might actually leave. Instead, he crossed the grand total of a foot between them and pulled Squall up against him, and Squall let himself be coaxed into a slow kiss. Fingers played with the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up slowly, and the A/C-cooled air hit Squall’s back with a shock, causing fine hairs to stand on end. Seifer ran his hands up the sensitized skin, slowly up the bumps of Squall’s spine, taking the shirt with him as he went, pulling it up and over Squall’s head. The Griever pendant was cold when it fell back against the brunet’s chest.
“Seifer,” Squall said as he pulled back to let Seifer take the t-shirt all the way off. “I have class in the morning.”
“Bitch and moan, that’s all you do, when you talk at all,” Seifer murmured, tossing the shirt away and returning his hands to Squall’s chilled skin. He trailed them up Squall’s spine again, up to his neck to play with the little tendrils of dark hair curling at the base of his skull, causing a minute shudder to ripple through the brunet, one he couldn’t blame on the cold. The hands moved down again, slowly, fingers trailing, to wrap in his belts like they had before and pull him even closer, until Seifer’s heat was completely wrapped around him. The blond pressed him into another slow, heated kiss, stealing Squall’s breath into his own lungs, and the brunet barely noticed that they were moving until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed.
“Seifer,” he said, lifting his hips as Seifer’s hands slowly slid down his hip-bone to rest on his waist. “I have class in the morning.”
Seifer ignored him, giving him a gentle push back onto the bed, and Squall let himself fall back against the standard-issue mattress and blankets. Seifer deftly undid the first of his belts, flicking his wrist to yank the belt out of the loops with practiced ease, tossing it away to join Squall’s shirt. Squall reached for the second one, but Seifer caught his hand and lifted it, closing his mouth around a knuckle and biting gently before pressing it back against the covers with only a little bit of pressure as a signal to keep it there.
“I have class in the-“ Squall reiterated, but Seifer glanced up at him with a light glare that couldn’t quite hide his amusement or arousal, tossing the second and last belt away.
“You’re still talking,” Seifer pointed out, voice just husky enough to send another shiver down Squall’s spine.
“Then find a way to shut me up,” Squall replied, an annoyed tilt to his mouth, and if that wasn’t a hint, Seifer wouldn’t know one if it beat him upside the head with a frying pan.
Seifer grinned and moved up across the bed, bracing his hands on the mattress at Squall’s sides and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of Squall’s neck, nipping at the skin gently, taking Squall’s pulse-point between his teeth and sucking. Meanwhile, his hand had found the zipper of Squall’s pants and was leisurely dragging it down, fingers dipping to caress the bulge that was there just briefly before pulling his hands away from Squall’s pants and his teeth away from Squall’s neck.
Squall looked at him, propping himself up on his hands, as he slowly knelt on the ground between the brunet’s legs, dangling off the end of the bed, and Seifer was proud to notice that icy eyes were slightly unfocused when they found him. The blond held his gaze as he slowly wrapped his fingers in belt loops again and tugged, the brunet lifting his hips from the bed to help in Seifer’s quest to peel the leather away from pale legs and send them to join the t-shirt and the belts, finally freeing Squall’s erection. He danced his hands up Squall’s calves, splaying fingers across toned muscle and held his icy blue gaze as he slowly made his way back to Squall’s waist, and gently trailed his fingers across the exposed hip bone. Leaning up, he pressed his lips to Squall’s navel, tightening his grip on Squall’s waist and dragging his tongue down, down, down…
Squall’s head fell back and his arms quivered as he tried to hold himself up, eyes closed as Seifer’s mouth wrapped around his cock. His mouth fell open slightly, the only sound escaping being his harsh breathing, and he forced his head up again, forced himself to meet Seifer’s gaze. The blond’s hands traveled back to rest on his lower back, and thank God he was so strong because he suddenly swallowed Squall whole and the brunet’s arms gave out, and it was only Seifer’s strength keeping Squall from falling back onto the bed and losing himself completely.
Seifer pulled back a moment or, hell, an eternity later and let Squall fall to the covers again, and if the brunet minded his sudden lack of support, he did nothing to show it. The blond’s pants quickly went the way of all of Squall’s clothing, Squall watching the reveal with thinly veiled interest, and Seifer finally carefully lowered himself on top of Squall, pressing his body to the lithe brunet’s. Squall’s arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him into a kiss, filled with all the need and slight desperation that he wasn’t about to let chip his icy composure by expressing it aloud. Seifer responded by pulling away and lightly threading his fingers through brown hair, reaching under the pillow for the bottle and the little package that had been conveniently placed there, just as he had conveniently been waiting without a shirt.
Squall made a small sound at the first feel of a slicked finger at his entrance, something that definitely wasn’t a whimper, couldn’t be classified as anything really, and it was all the encouragement Seifer needed to press the digit into the brunet’s body. Two fingers later and Squall was pushing back, shuddering every time he twisted his index finger a certain way, and Seifer knew he’d found it even if Squall never made a sound beyond that initial noise.
“Ready?” he breathed, and Squall’s response was to hike his legs up and press them to his chest with a look that left Seifer without doubt of what he wanted. One condom later and he was forcing himself to breathe, even if Squall wasn’t yet, and let the brunet adjust, and shit, he’d been waiting all day for this.
“Move,” Squall finally said, voice low and breathless and nearly sending Seifer into bliss right then and there.
And he moved, forcing himself to keep it slow and angling to thrust deep until Squall finally lifted up and latched his teeth onto Seifer’s shoulder hard, because he was quite done with slow, thank you, and now he’d like to be fucked through the bed like he’d been promised. His legs dropped to wrap around Seifer’s waist as the blond met him for a kiss that lasted until Squall’s mouth opened and his body arched into Seifer’s muscles clenching around Seifer and setting him off as well.
It could have been moments or hours later when he opened his eyes again, for all Squall knew. Seifer was sitting and watching him, propped up on one arm next to him, his other arm wrapped around Squall’s waist, holding him close to the blond’s body and surrounding him in heat.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Seifer said as Squall’s eyes fell closed. Squall opened them again in reply, like a long, lazy blink. Seifer was smirking, just as he’d been the whole time. “I’m not done with you yet. We’ve got all night.”
The next morning found Squall being the last into Instructor Trepe’s classroom, drawing stares and interested gazes and causing Quistis to pause in her lecture on monsters that Squall had already beaten quite a few times. The Trepies glared at him as he silently made his way to the back, gracing them with nothing more than a cursory glance despite his embarrassment. He found that Seifer had actually, for once, shown up for class, which explained his mysterious absence from Squall’s bed that morning. He sat down without another glance in Seifer’s direction and spent the rest of the class pretending that Seifer didn’t exist.
The blond caught him on the way out, wearing a smirk. “Looks like someone forgot to set the alarm.”
Squall shrugged. “You also forgot your promise.”
Seifer lifted an eyebrow. “And what promise was that?”
The brunet tugged his arm out of Seifer’s grasp and began mentally mapping out the route to the nearest supply closet. “My bed’s still standing.”