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Entry tags:
FFVIII & FFX: Deadly
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII & Final Fantasy X
Pairing: Auron/Squall
Warnings: Crossover
Rating: PG
Summary: Awake, Auron denies it, asleep, Squall is exactly what he wants. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
darkranger.
Auron has dreamt of him before. A young man in leather and fur and dark colours, with that odd pendant and that perpetually suspicious, perpetually lonely look in his eyes. Commander, he says, but Commander of what? Auron knows that it's another world, and in his dream, he accepts that. Another world, where this young man is important -- and dangerous, and deadly, and, he'd hesitate to admit it but in his dream, like the fact that it's another world, he can say; the young man is beautiful.
Beautiful in a cut-your-heart-to-shreds way, though.
It's an escape from the pilgrimage, really, from the long slow drag and burn of it, a break from sorrow on his journey to end sorrow. Auron accepts that, too, in his dream, though when he wakes, he doesn't want to admit that he needs it.
It took him weeks to learn the young man's name, and that's a part of the strangeness, and it suits him. Squall. Squall Leonhart. It fits well in Auron's mouth in his dreams but it sounds too strange said aloud, too far from the reality of Jecht and Braska and the cold mountain.
When he's awake, he doesn't like to admit his longing for this Squall.
When he dreams, all he thinks of is kissing him -- touching him -- being consumed by that deadly, beautiful man.
Pairing: Auron/Squall
Warnings: Crossover
Rating: PG
Summary: Awake, Auron denies it, asleep, Squall is exactly what he wants. For
darkranger.Auron has dreamt of him before. A young man in leather and fur and dark colours, with that odd pendant and that perpetually suspicious, perpetually lonely look in his eyes. Commander, he says, but Commander of what? Auron knows that it's another world, and in his dream, he accepts that. Another world, where this young man is important -- and dangerous, and deadly, and, he'd hesitate to admit it but in his dream, like the fact that it's another world, he can say; the young man is beautiful.
Beautiful in a cut-your-heart-to-shreds way, though.
It's an escape from the pilgrimage, really, from the long slow drag and burn of it, a break from sorrow on his journey to end sorrow. Auron accepts that, too, in his dream, though when he wakes, he doesn't want to admit that he needs it.
It took him weeks to learn the young man's name, and that's a part of the strangeness, and it suits him. Squall. Squall Leonhart. It fits well in Auron's mouth in his dreams but it sounds too strange said aloud, too far from the reality of Jecht and Braska and the cold mountain.
When he's awake, he doesn't like to admit his longing for this Squall.
When he dreams, all he thinks of is kissing him -- touching him -- being consumed by that deadly, beautiful man.
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