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Entry tags:
FFVIII: The Distance
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Seifer/Squall, Seifer/Zell
Warnings: None
Rating: PG13
Summary: The game and the distance from it. Timeline here.
You come up to me in the cafeteria, ask to talk to me. Your eyes are burning, annoyed, perhaps ashamed. Perhaps you're ashamed that it was my name on your lips when I went down on you, when you came, in a public place, no less. Anyone could have seen us, couldn't they, chickie? But don't worry, nobody did. I've done things like that with Squall countless times and we've only been caught once. By you.
So in a way, what happened earlier was your own fault anyway.
You shake your fists at me, but I know you won't hit me. In fact, now I know your weakness. If I wanted to, I could get up, pull you up and against me, press against you and kiss you, right now, and you wouldn't be able to resist, would you, chickie?
There's no reason to be ashamed about it, anyway. Your own commander loves the control games I play with him.
That weakness, though, that's what you're ashamed of, huh? You grab me by the trench coat and try to pull me up, to drag me somewhere else, out of the way, out of sight, out of hearing. You have no chance of doing it, not on your own, but I stand up anyway and smirk at you. I know that inwardly, that smirk makes you tremble, and not because you're scared. No. Because there's something so good that I have, that you've tasted once and you want again. Something that isn't yours to taste, really, since Squall is my 'official' lover.
Fuck official. Never heard of threesomes, Zell?
The look in your eyes, the way your eyes have widened... innocence suits you. Come on, let's get out of here, where we can talk.
The corridors are empty and you walk next to me, trying not to look at me. But it takes effort, doesn't it? You want me. You want what I can give you. The feeling of being controlled and dominated, maybe. That's the feeling Squall loves, a feeling he thrives on. A feeling that nothing you do with me is your fault. But you also like the way I force it on you, the way you can say that you didn't really want it.
If you didn't really want it, why didn't you say no? You can't have the best of both worlds.
You can have my love, the way I control you and make you feel so damn good because you have no control over it.
Or you can have the respect, maybe even the pity, of others.
You can't have both the game and the distance from it. Me and Squall, we play it constantly. A game of balancing control, of playing quietly in public, in tipping the control to play people until they think that maybe he is the one in control. We deceive others, ourselves, and yet all the while we are completely truthful.
Maybe you just need to play the game a little longer to understand why we need it.
Meet you tonight, chickie. Your dorm. Don't wear anything special -- fuck, don't wear anything. You don't need to.
Oh, and lube might be a good idea.
Pairing: Seifer/Squall, Seifer/Zell
Warnings: None
Rating: PG13
Summary: The game and the distance from it. Timeline here.
You come up to me in the cafeteria, ask to talk to me. Your eyes are burning, annoyed, perhaps ashamed. Perhaps you're ashamed that it was my name on your lips when I went down on you, when you came, in a public place, no less. Anyone could have seen us, couldn't they, chickie? But don't worry, nobody did. I've done things like that with Squall countless times and we've only been caught once. By you.
So in a way, what happened earlier was your own fault anyway.
You shake your fists at me, but I know you won't hit me. In fact, now I know your weakness. If I wanted to, I could get up, pull you up and against me, press against you and kiss you, right now, and you wouldn't be able to resist, would you, chickie?
There's no reason to be ashamed about it, anyway. Your own commander loves the control games I play with him.
That weakness, though, that's what you're ashamed of, huh? You grab me by the trench coat and try to pull me up, to drag me somewhere else, out of the way, out of sight, out of hearing. You have no chance of doing it, not on your own, but I stand up anyway and smirk at you. I know that inwardly, that smirk makes you tremble, and not because you're scared. No. Because there's something so good that I have, that you've tasted once and you want again. Something that isn't yours to taste, really, since Squall is my 'official' lover.
Fuck official. Never heard of threesomes, Zell?
The look in your eyes, the way your eyes have widened... innocence suits you. Come on, let's get out of here, where we can talk.
The corridors are empty and you walk next to me, trying not to look at me. But it takes effort, doesn't it? You want me. You want what I can give you. The feeling of being controlled and dominated, maybe. That's the feeling Squall loves, a feeling he thrives on. A feeling that nothing you do with me is your fault. But you also like the way I force it on you, the way you can say that you didn't really want it.
If you didn't really want it, why didn't you say no? You can't have the best of both worlds.
You can have my love, the way I control you and make you feel so damn good because you have no control over it.
Or you can have the respect, maybe even the pity, of others.
You can't have both the game and the distance from it. Me and Squall, we play it constantly. A game of balancing control, of playing quietly in public, in tipping the control to play people until they think that maybe he is the one in control. We deceive others, ourselves, and yet all the while we are completely truthful.
Maybe you just need to play the game a little longer to understand why we need it.
Meet you tonight, chickie. Your dorm. Don't wear anything special -- fuck, don't wear anything. You don't need to.
Oh, and lube might be a good idea.