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Entry tags:
FFVIII: Rules of Engagement
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Changing the way things work.
"Leonhart."
Squall looked up, straightening up and almost not daring to look up. But he knew Seifer would only make him look up if he didn't, and that was annoying, because he hated Seifer's touch as much as he craved it, and besides, being treated like some shy little girl pissed him off like nothing else. "Almasy," he said, softly, and met Seifer's eyes.
"Whatever are you doing here?" he asked, smirking, and Squall tried to ignore the fact that that voice sent a thrill to his stomach and a shiver up his spine. He hated Seifer's little games. The way he'd force Squall to say what he wanted before anything happened at all. And it wasn't even in the privacy of a quiet room or a bedroom. It was wherever Seifer decided they would meet, and that was inevitably in public.
Seifer'd always been an asshole, but Squall was quite sure he hadn't been quite so bad before the war. He'd been enough of an asshole for Squall to be attracted to him (he was, after all, only attracted to people who would screw him over, for whatever reason). But he hadn't been this bad.
The sad thing was that Squall had no idea how to quit Seifer after so long of their addictive little meetings.
"C'mon, Leonhart, we don't have all night," Seifer said, giving him a slightly annoyed look.
"I'm here so you can take me wherever you want, get at least half naked and fuck me stupid," Squall said, quietly, confidently, looking up at Seifer. He smiled to himself when he saw that Seifer was a little put off by his sudden straight forwardness. Seifer had no way to get to him if he kept pretending to himself that it wasn't humiliating, horrible, to do things like that.
Seifer's eyes narrowed a bit.
"Come on, then," he said, and he didn't sound at all pleased.
Squall smirked a little at the fact that, for once, he'd won, sort of.
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Changing the way things work.
"Leonhart."
Squall looked up, straightening up and almost not daring to look up. But he knew Seifer would only make him look up if he didn't, and that was annoying, because he hated Seifer's touch as much as he craved it, and besides, being treated like some shy little girl pissed him off like nothing else. "Almasy," he said, softly, and met Seifer's eyes.
"Whatever are you doing here?" he asked, smirking, and Squall tried to ignore the fact that that voice sent a thrill to his stomach and a shiver up his spine. He hated Seifer's little games. The way he'd force Squall to say what he wanted before anything happened at all. And it wasn't even in the privacy of a quiet room or a bedroom. It was wherever Seifer decided they would meet, and that was inevitably in public.
Seifer'd always been an asshole, but Squall was quite sure he hadn't been quite so bad before the war. He'd been enough of an asshole for Squall to be attracted to him (he was, after all, only attracted to people who would screw him over, for whatever reason). But he hadn't been this bad.
The sad thing was that Squall had no idea how to quit Seifer after so long of their addictive little meetings.
"C'mon, Leonhart, we don't have all night," Seifer said, giving him a slightly annoyed look.
"I'm here so you can take me wherever you want, get at least half naked and fuck me stupid," Squall said, quietly, confidently, looking up at Seifer. He smiled to himself when he saw that Seifer was a little put off by his sudden straight forwardness. Seifer had no way to get to him if he kept pretending to himself that it wasn't humiliating, horrible, to do things like that.
Seifer's eyes narrowed a bit.
"Come on, then," he said, and he didn't sound at all pleased.
Squall smirked a little at the fact that, for once, he'd won, sort of.