Final Fantasy VIII: Irvine Kinneas/Squall Leonhart, table
Title: Surrender
Author: twilightsrain/edenbound (ficjournal)
Theme: Table
Rating: NC17
Irvine wasn't entirely expecting to be pushed up against a table and kissed like that, but he's certainly not complaining. He's getting used to Squall's little whims, the way sometimes he wants something, and the way he always gets what he want if it's in reach. Something he learned from Almasy, Irvine's sure, and though he doesn't entirely approve of that, it's hard to not approve of being pushed up against an inanimate object and thoroughly ravished.
Squall's tongue pushes into his mouth, and Irvine surrenders his train of thought, wrapping his arms around Squall and letting him push him back, so that he's perched on the edge of the table. At least he's sure that this will bear his weight -- for now, anyway.
"I thought I was supposed to be the one that spends all my time thinking," Squall whispers against Irvine's mouth, a touch of huskiness in his voice already. Irvine makes a soft noise and pulls Squall closer, wrapping his legs around him to bring him closer. He reaches up and tangles his fingers in Squall's hair, kissing him deeply, eagerly -- hungrily.
"So you are, baby," he replies, nipping lightly at Squall's lower lip. "You're rubbing off on me."
He catches the brief smile before Squall moves back a little, and he lifts his hips a little and undoes his pants and shimmies out of them quickly while Squall is watching him. He lets them fall on the floor and then he reaches for Squall, curling his fingers under one of his belts to pull him close, kissing him again as he gets the belts undone. He makes sure to let his fingers brush certain places teasingly before he gets Squall's pants undone as well, and then he gasps as Squall grabs his wrists, pinning them down, and kisses him again.
When Squall releases his wrists he fumbles in his pocket to find the lube -- squeezing some into his hand and then wrapping his hand around Squall's cock, stroking him slowly once or twice and admiring the way his mouth opens just a little, treasuring the expression on his face, amused by the way his breathing quickens.
"C'mon," he whispers, when he pulls his hand away, smirking just a little in that slow smug way that he's told has a tendency to change the consistency of kneecaps from solid to liquid.
Squall's moan when he pushes into him is perfect. Irvine wraps himself around Squall, his own breathing accelerated now, and kisses him oh-so-softly, those little longing kisses that betray his feelings so wonderfully. Squall kisses back, gentle, even as he pushes all the way into him and makes him arch his back and groan. He holds onto him and loses himself in it, the amazing feeling of having a guy deep inside him, the absolute perfection of knowing that it's Squall. Squall's hand wraps around his cock, squeezing gently, trying to stroke in time with his thrusts, and he bucks up into it, moaning again.
"God, Squall," he whispers, his mouth against Squall's again. He holds Squall tighter, pushing his tongue into his mouth, stealing his breath with the kiss and with a soft gasp as Squall thrusts harder and deeper into him. When Squall pulls away a little he holds him tighter still, so that Squall's face is buried against his shoulder and he can feel his breath and hear his panting clearly. "I -- "
Squall thrusts deeper, squeezing again, and Irvine's hips buck a little again, and his back arches more than ever -- and he cries out softly, cries out Squall's name, and grips the table beneath him hard as if that's an anchor to keep him from getting carried away. He feels Squall tense when he comes, and tips his head back with a gasp when Squall bites him to muffle a loud groan.
They stay still for only a moment -- suddenly hyperaware that Quistis is supposed to be coming along soon. Then, with a grin, Irvine urges Squall to move, kissing him softly and then getting up, only a little unsteady, to clean up.
He's pretty sure he won't be able to stop smiling smugly for the rest of the day.
Author: twilightsrain/edenbound (ficjournal)
Theme: Table
Rating: NC17
Irvine wasn't entirely expecting to be pushed up against a table and kissed like that, but he's certainly not complaining. He's getting used to Squall's little whims, the way sometimes he wants something, and the way he always gets what he want if it's in reach. Something he learned from Almasy, Irvine's sure, and though he doesn't entirely approve of that, it's hard to not approve of being pushed up against an inanimate object and thoroughly ravished.
Squall's tongue pushes into his mouth, and Irvine surrenders his train of thought, wrapping his arms around Squall and letting him push him back, so that he's perched on the edge of the table. At least he's sure that this will bear his weight -- for now, anyway.
"I thought I was supposed to be the one that spends all my time thinking," Squall whispers against Irvine's mouth, a touch of huskiness in his voice already. Irvine makes a soft noise and pulls Squall closer, wrapping his legs around him to bring him closer. He reaches up and tangles his fingers in Squall's hair, kissing him deeply, eagerly -- hungrily.
"So you are, baby," he replies, nipping lightly at Squall's lower lip. "You're rubbing off on me."
He catches the brief smile before Squall moves back a little, and he lifts his hips a little and undoes his pants and shimmies out of them quickly while Squall is watching him. He lets them fall on the floor and then he reaches for Squall, curling his fingers under one of his belts to pull him close, kissing him again as he gets the belts undone. He makes sure to let his fingers brush certain places teasingly before he gets Squall's pants undone as well, and then he gasps as Squall grabs his wrists, pinning them down, and kisses him again.
When Squall releases his wrists he fumbles in his pocket to find the lube -- squeezing some into his hand and then wrapping his hand around Squall's cock, stroking him slowly once or twice and admiring the way his mouth opens just a little, treasuring the expression on his face, amused by the way his breathing quickens.
"C'mon," he whispers, when he pulls his hand away, smirking just a little in that slow smug way that he's told has a tendency to change the consistency of kneecaps from solid to liquid.
Squall's moan when he pushes into him is perfect. Irvine wraps himself around Squall, his own breathing accelerated now, and kisses him oh-so-softly, those little longing kisses that betray his feelings so wonderfully. Squall kisses back, gentle, even as he pushes all the way into him and makes him arch his back and groan. He holds onto him and loses himself in it, the amazing feeling of having a guy deep inside him, the absolute perfection of knowing that it's Squall. Squall's hand wraps around his cock, squeezing gently, trying to stroke in time with his thrusts, and he bucks up into it, moaning again.
"God, Squall," he whispers, his mouth against Squall's again. He holds Squall tighter, pushing his tongue into his mouth, stealing his breath with the kiss and with a soft gasp as Squall thrusts harder and deeper into him. When Squall pulls away a little he holds him tighter still, so that Squall's face is buried against his shoulder and he can feel his breath and hear his panting clearly. "I -- "
Squall thrusts deeper, squeezing again, and Irvine's hips buck a little again, and his back arches more than ever -- and he cries out softly, cries out Squall's name, and grips the table beneath him hard as if that's an anchor to keep him from getting carried away. He feels Squall tense when he comes, and tips his head back with a gasp when Squall bites him to muffle a loud groan.
They stay still for only a moment -- suddenly hyperaware that Quistis is supposed to be coming along soon. Then, with a grin, Irvine urges Squall to move, kissing him softly and then getting up, only a little unsteady, to clean up.
He's pretty sure he won't be able to stop smiling smugly for the rest of the day.