To This One Night
With a hooded gaze, Seifer watched the traditional sharing of cake between his brother and sister-in-law. The large circular table to the side of the head table was mounted with numerous small cakes and pastries, each one made by skilled chefs of the attending guests. The recently wedded couple smiled warmly at each other before sharing one of the small cakes, but Seifer easily recognized their 'marital bliss' as an act. Even though they were destined to marry before they had been born, the twosome had met only a fortnight before their wedding day. There couldn't be emotion between them this soon. What a sad life they held despite their status of heir prince and future queen.
After taking a drink of the hard cider, the blonde smirked at the blissful reality that he wasn't in the same position. Though sharing their father's blood, Seifer was born from the third wife of the present king. Isaac and Irvine were born of the first beloved queen, a woman of long auburn hair and unmatched beauty. Though her kindness was great, her heart wasn't strong enough to extend her life. Then there was the second wife, her life taken with the birth of a stillborn child. And last a young woman of golden hair, Seifer's mother who was cherished most by her king and thus hidden away like a precious treasure. Others found it strange how a man of such large frame and crude mouth could ever have been born from the delicate woman, but Seifer believed himself a saint when it came to his mother's foul moods.
As potentially third in line for the throne, a marriage had been arranged for the youth, but the sickly girl had died years past. By that time, Seifer had shown more interest in the blade as opposed to politics. More than once he threatened tutors to a duel in order to avoid another lesson, and more than a few tutors had been frightened away by such tactics. As any good leader would, the king took advantage of the boy's vigor and set him to the task of learning strategy along with his other weapons training. It wasn't a hard path for Seifer to travel and become a respected general of the king's army. In exchange, the 'Golden Wolf' gained the freedom to choose his own partners in life.
A hand clapped his shoulder. "Feeling depressed, pup?"
"Hardly. She looks like a spoiled bitch to me."
Taking his place to the blonde's side, Irvine relaxed in the large chair. "You've only exchanged names with the young lady. Don't be so judgmental."
"Heh, you're just worried about your own coming in less than a year."
"Of course not. I remember the lovely from years back, as should you. Regal but strong. Don't think I'll mind having her around."
Seifer raised his glass in a mock toast. "Here's to your optimism. May it bring you a woman who looks finer than your horse and doesn't cry when you fuck her."
An amused smile was the only reply Irvine could offer before two loud drumbeats signaled the beginning of the evening's entertainment. In time with complex beats, eight dancers dressed in brightly colored cloth made their way into the large dinning hall. Except for bare feet, exposed stomachs, and space available for their eyes, the lithe figures were covered completely in the outfits that flowed with every movement.
Though they were all synced in the dance, Seifer found his eyes continually drawn to a single form within the shifting circle. She held more grace, more respect for the dance as compared to the other moving bodies around her. Granted, the normal eye probably couldn't tell the subtle difference, but instructed to avoid a slashing blade, the blonde clearly saw every quick movement made by the dancers, and the woman in his sight held a natural flow that no one could be trained.
After the first long piece and with a sudden change in beat, seven dancers dropped to their knees and crouched low to the ground. The remaining figure, the woman that had entrapped Seifer's gaze, easily fell in step to the slower and softer rhythm of the new song. Using the kneeling forms as props, she displayed beautiful grace with impossibly slow balancing tricks followed by flamboyant movements that only a dancer could get away with. Only once did she directly faced the blonde, cool iron meeting bright green eyes. Seifer found difficulty in breathing after the bare moment of contact.
"You appear bewitched, pup."
Turning, Seifer decided he didn't care for the man's grin. "It's a dance, you ass. It's supposed to entrance."
"Certainly they are better than fair, but you know I wasn't talking about the dance."
"Don't be a fool."
"I'm not the one drooling on his plate," he muttered before stealing a sip of ale. Then an eyebrow rose. "Oh, looks like your nymph is about to escape."
Confused, Seifer looked to the open area of the dinning hall to find the dancers finished and presently scattering into the crowd for spare coins, but the object of his focus appeared too proud for that and strode to the open doors. Damning his pride, the blonde leapt out of his chair to chase after the fleeing woman, ignoring the sounds of laughter from his brother. More familiar with the darkened hallways of the castle, Seifer soon found the colorfully dressed dancer standing at an intersection, obviously uncertain about the way to exit.
She turned around smoothly, gray eyes glinting with suspicion.
Forcing charm into his smirk, Seifer approached closer to tower his additional six inches of height over the surprisingly tall woman. "Care for me to show you the way out, my lady?"
"... ..." She retreated from the large man.
Seifer matched her steps. "I was impressed with your dance."
Pressed against the wall, her eyes narrowed in warning. "You are mistaken."
The blonde straightened at the voice, but didn't draw back. "You're a man?"
"Most of us are."
"Interesting," he said, truly impressed that the group was made of men who danced with enough grace to replace women. "But I don't understand how that makes me mistaken."
Slowly Seifer raised a hand to remove the veil hiding most of the face before him. With the lacing unhooked from his ear, the soft fabric slipped easily to his chest. The revealed skin only intensified the hardness of the gray eyes, streaks of blue in the orbs just barely visible at the close distance. Pale pink lips were in a firm line, but still appeared full and delectable in the dim light of the torches. Thoughtlessly, Seifer leaned forward to take a taste of the young man.
The attempt of a kiss was halted when a sharp pain along the side of his neck quickly brought the blonde down to one knee. Coughing Seifer looked up dazedly at the dancer to find a fine elbow still raised from the unexpected attack.
"Trust me - you are mistaken," he stated tersely before striding off in a flutter of clothing.
Part laughing part coughing, Seifer moved to sit against the wall and gently massaged his injured neck. It had been a long while since someone had managed to get under his guard so easily and actually cause serious pain. He smiled at the misfortune of the dancer whose attempt to drive off the prince only inflamed more desire in Seifer. Knowing the time of celebration would last over the week, he was certain that he would come across the man once again.
Irvine emerged from the darkness of the hallway, interest lighting the violet eyes when he came upon Seifer. "You know, I don't think that'll pass as a love mark."
The blonde smirked. "What, couldn't get your own partner for tonight and had to interrupt my own fun?"
He shook his head. "Did you know that at least half of those 'ladies' are in fact men?"
"I just learned that fact myself."
"Oh? Well, I was coming to warn you, but..."
Sighing, Seifer pushed himself up to his feet. "Why do I doubt the sincerity of your concern?"
"And yet still I missed the show. What'd you do, feel him up?"
"I wish. I'm certain I wouldn't have been disappointed."
Shaking his head, but clearly unsurprised at the man's comment, Irvine hooked an arm around the broad shoulders. "Come and share a drink with me. We'll mourn this lonely night together."
"No, no, no! Keep your leg raised throughout the entire spin."
Scowling, the brunette was tempted to tell the overweight man to demonstrate the move if he really thought it physically possible. But he held his tongue, knowing the consequences of such comments. Placing raw feet back into the ready position, he waited for his owner to clap out the rhythm he was to follow. The first steps were easy enough, but again he missed the final move that the wide man desired.
"No! I told you, keep the leg raised!" He emphasized his words with a wooden staff knocking against the offending leg.
"But wouldn't he need a third leg to do it without falling?"
Startled, the brunette and his owner looked quickly to the side at the intruding voice. Leaning comfortably against a tree, the large blonde sneered at the two men.
"Who..." Dark eyes widened with recognition before the man bowed low. "My, my prince!"
Unmoving, the dancer only glared at the large man. The intense gaze by the same green eyes from the night before made the exposed skin of his chest shiver, but seeing the collar of the blonde's shirt upturned to cover the most likely bruised skin brought a ghost of a smile to his lips.
"Fool, get to your knees," his owner demanded in a hiss while swinging the staff such that it hit solidly against the back of lean legs. Unbalanced, the brunette fell to the ground, silently furious at being forced to kneel before the large man.
"None of that," came a deep growl as booted feet approached. "Get to your feet."
Looking up, the dancer found a hand held out to him for aid in standing. Blue-gray eyes firm in refusal, he curled his legs beneath himself to rise on his own power, and then glared at the supposed prince.
"Heh, stubborn to a fault, aren't you. What's your name?"
Stormy eyes narrowed and he held back a warning growl with the utmost effort.
"My prince, if I may be of service - I am Cid Kramer, and this is my finest dancer, Squall."
"Squall, is it? I must say that I was enchanted by your performance last night. Is more expected for this evening?"
Cid spoke before allowing the brunette a chance to reply. "Not 'til the final night, my prince, but if you desire it, the boy can be yours until then."
The sneer widened. "For a price, I assume."
"Not for one as noble as you, my prince! However, if you enjoy your time..."
Beneath the neutral mask the brunette bore, fear burned coldly. While he had served the role of companion before, Squall didn't care for the lust clear in the prince's eyes. Old lords were quick to please and easy to tire before a more invasive situation could take place. But this... this was a man perhaps equal his age and of stronger build. A man he had recently injured. Worse, a man of royalty that he could never refuse.
"I dare say that I will." Unyielding fingers gripped the brunette's chin. "Perhaps I should take what was denied me last night?"
The lean body arched slightly in tension, but Squall refused to flinch at the hold and threat.
"Or maybe another time." The warm fingers trailed loosely back from their hold, causing a chill throughout the taut body. "Get a shirt on. We're leaving."
Doing his best to follow the order without appearing an awed peasant, Squall walked with forced grace to retrieve the shirt he left folded to the side. With every step and move made, he clearly felt the other's stare watching his bared back. He was half surprised that the blonde didn't retract his order before the coarse material of the shirt slipped over his head and blocked out the searing gaze. Turning, Squall ignored the greedy gaze of his owner and nodded his readiness to the smirking prince.
Without a word, the blonde spun around and walked off into the wooded area behind the troupe's camp ground. Equally silent, the dancer followed the other's lead. From his position, Squall was mildly impressed to observe how the large man easily maneuvered in the close quarters of thin branches and brush, barely creating a sound as he traveled. The prince seemed oddly in his element here.
The blonde soon stopped at the edge of a small rise and motioned the dancer forward. "Do you care for the games of the festival?"
Squall appeared bored as he looked down on the various stands crowded around by people of all ages. "Never played them."
"Oh? Then you're in a treat. No one robs you of money like these bastards."
"Then why play?"
"For the chance to beat them at their own game, of course."
"... As you wish, my prince." Straight away, a hand lifted before his face and a finger tapped the cross-eyed brunette on the nose.
"None of that crap from you. My name is Seifer."
"Then, as you wish, my prince Seifer."
He glared at the brunette. "You see, now you are purposely trying to be annoying. It won't work, lovely. I'll have you know that I can be equally irritating or worse, so don't test me."
Squall remained quiet about his suspicions that the words were indeed truth about the blonde.
With the larger man in the lead, they made way to the festival grounds that were crowded from those eager to enjoy the first day of the wedding celebration. Though uncomfortable with the blonde, Squall found himself drawing closer to the man if only to put a bit more distance between himself and the large number of people.
Eyeing the various vendors and games as they pasted, Squall was amazed at the crap people would spend their coins on. There was everything from worthless jewelry to carved toys to decent weapons for sale, but no individual thing attracted his eye. However distracted, he accidentally pressed against a solid back when Seifer stopped in place, an odd mix of light fragrance and metal flooding his senses. Quickly, Squall stepped back to reform a comfortable distance between them.
Amused green eyes settled on the brunette. "Care to play one?"
Glancing to the side, Squall saw a simple knife throwing game that had apparently caught the blonde's interest. "Whatever."
Placing a coin on the table, Seifer received three blades in return. After handling one of the knives as if to test its balance, he threw it at the smallest of the targets. The knife wasn't even angled correctly to embed in the wooden planks of the target, let alone high enough. Squall breathed a chuckle at the attempt.
"They must be weighted," the blonde muttered. He took more time before the second throw, but only succeeded in hitting the target with the wrong end of the knife. "Well, shit. Here, last one for you."
Squall stared at the offered blade. "It's your coin."
"And this is how I wish to use it. Go ahead. My money is lost no matter."
Sighing, he took the knife from the prince, bounced it slightly to feel its weight, then flung it smoothly at the small circle. At the sight of a raised pale eyebrow, Squall briefly explained, "Just another act."
"And to the winner a prize." The old man held out a stuffed toy of dark cloth that was in the crude image of a kitten.
A large hand promptly picked up the toy and Seifer placed it on top of his own shoulder, the stuffing of sand or the like spreading well enough for it to balance there without support. "Let's go, nymph. There should be performances further ahead."
With a vague frown, Squall eyed back the way they had entered the grounds, but nodded his consent anyway.
"Or maybe you'd rather leave?"
Staring into the unexpectedly observant gaze, the brunette was faced with a troubling decision of either staying crammed in the reeking crowd or being led into a bedroom. At the moment with the beginnings of a headache from too many people invading his sacred space, he was quite ready to dare the bedroom and hope to distract the blonde from the activities that he had most likely planned.
Smirking at the hesitation, Seifer grabbed his arm and dragged the smaller man between the booths to escape the crush of the crowds. Once in relatively open space except for the scattering of couples and families, Squall jerked his arm out of the hold and stepped back from the blonde. Unbothered, Seifer motioned with his freed hand towards the castle.
"No sense wasting time here," he stated, green eyes bright with anticipation.
"Whatever you desire," Squall muttered between gritted teeth.
As before, he followed the blonde's lead, though took better care this time to pay attention to his surroundings. More likely than not, he'd have to find his way back once the prince was done with him. They walked further into the stone walls than the brunette expected, and he hoped that his memory was good enough to remember the numerous turns and doorways to take. Eventually they walked up steep stairway, oddly dusty as if from lack of use. Allowing his mind to blank out, Squall focused ahead at the swaying tail of the ridiculous toy still resting on Seifer's shoulder.
In time the steps ended at a platform where a single dark door stood. In an overly gentlemanly gesture, Seifer opened the door for the brunette to enter the room first. Expecting a room of obvious wealth and a shamelessly large bed, Squall's steps slowed when he found the room filled with furniture ruined by fire and age.
"Expecting gold and silk?"
Squall opened his mouth to reply, but then looked straight ahead at a broken section of wall. Dark eyebrows scrunched in curiosity, he walked forward until he was a step from the rather large opening. The view was unlike anything he had seen before, high above the expanse of meadows and forest of bright greens. Further in the distance were immense mountains that reached into the clouds, and hidden just barely beyond that was an ocean that Squall had only heard rumors of.
"Are you afraid?"
Startled out of his dazed viewing of the scenery, he looked at the suddenly close prince and frowned.
Seifer laughed lightly. "Of those I bring here, most refuse to step beyond the doorway for fear of ash on their shoes. And no one has dared stepping this close to the edge. But of course you would be different."
"What happened here?"
Broad shoulders shrugged. "Long before my time. I think the room was used to imprison special persons. During the war decades ago, I bet a catapult launched something through the wall that later set everything ablaze. The room was left forgotten all these years. Who knew it'd have such an amazing view?"
Turning, Squall examined the room more closely to notice that though the remaining furniture was burnt and worn, no ash or debris littered the floor. "Why did you bring me here?"
In a form of reply, a large hand hooked behind his head, pulling the brunette in for a kiss. Uncertain of the footing around him thus unable to easily escape, Squall let the prince do as he wished, the thick tongue feeling strange in his mouth. It took several seconds for the dancer to realize what was wrong - it was too tender. Instead of thrashing about in search of dominance as with other lords, the tongue stroked in a simple, almost begging request for response. Even so, Squall denied such surrender to the man.
Seifer sighed into the joining. "So fucking stubborn. Don't you want what I can offer you?"
"As it is, you are mine for the next few days."
And that was the crutch of the matter - a man marked as a slave doesn't refuse the desires of a prince. Certainly not when his services had been already promised to the blonde man. Which services Seifer desired were of no question, green eyes appearing like those of a hungry cat.
Bowing his head slightly, the dancer slowly sank down to his knees. Whatever the prince may have said was interrupted with a quiet groan as Squall placed his hand firmly against the cloth hidden arousal. Without sound or expression, he undid the lacings of the dark trousers while the thumb of his other hand stroked roughly. Pulling out the lacing completely, Squall then freed the hardening member from the pants. After an unnoticeable hesitation, he gently massaged the reddened head with his lips and tongue. Meanwhile, the soft lacing was wrapped once around the bottom of the thick length, the material then moved along the aroused flesh with a pulley type motion.
"Holy fuck... right... there..."
Squall barely heard the meaningless words and ignored the strong hand in his hair that none too subtly suggested for him to move further along the erection. Taking both ends of the lacing into one hand, he tightened the hold to deny release and moved his freed hand to caress underneath. His mind far from the task at hand, Squall didn't notice the length of time he kept the prince on the edge. Only when the hand braced on his shoulder gripped hard enough to cause him to whimper quietly did the dancer take the lacing off from around the erection. Soon after, hot liquid filled his mouth with bitterness, and by reflex he swallowed.
Shivering as if cold, Seifer collapsed to his knees and used the brunette to hold him upright. "Gods, and here I thought you'd be an innocent," he managed with heavy breath.
"... ..." Arms resting loosely at his sides, Squall let the blonde hug him tightly and he hoped silently that this would be enough for the prince, though he knew the opposite would most likely be true.
Unexpectedly, a hand drifted down to cup his groin. There was a long pause before Seifer leaned back slowly from the brunette, green eyes narrowed in a mix of emotions. Then he scoffed loudly. "Whatever I want, huh?"
"... ..." Though he forced a neutral expression, Squall was confused and partly afraid of the shift to displeasure in the prince's tone.
Awkwardly regaining his feet, Seifer glared down at the dancer. "Get out."
With practiced grace, Squall stood up and directly walked for the open doorway. Before he had the chance to wonder at his punishment for losing a prince as his customer, the deeply toned voice stopped him.
"Be ready at the same time tomorrow."
"... As you wish, my prince," he replied before resuming his exit.
Once certain that the blonde wasn't following, Squall paused during his descent from the tower. One arm wrapped tightly around his abdomen and a hand placed lightly on the golden circlet around his neck, he spared the moment to damn his existence. Parents either dead or uncaring, he had been sold to Cid by his relations before his fifth birthday. Thirteen years he had been struggling to work up the money to pay for his freedom, and now this prince could easily drop the remaining gold he needed to rid himself of the enslaving necklace. But...
Sighing at his worthless pride, Squall straightened and continued his way downstairs.
"Seifer, if you growl once more, I'll start wondering if you got bitten by a rabid dog."
Green eyes narrowed further as he stared out of the window to the darkened sky. The Wolf was upset. He was angry at the nymph that held his attention and yet remained cold as ever. More so, he was furious at himself for not being able to drive the dancer from his mind.
"Gods," Irvine chuckled. "Don't tell me that you are actually pining over that slave."
"Three days. Three fucking days and..." He blinked. "Slave? What are you talking about?"
"Does anything beyond warfare stick in that brain of yours? That dancer of yours is a slave. Surely you've seen his collar."
"You mean the necklace he wears?"
A frustrated sigh. "That 'necklace' could kill him in a blink of the eye if he were to go against his owner. It also makes certain he doesn't run off in the middle of the night. Only his owner can remove the cursed thing."
Now mentioned, Seifer remembered it from lectures about such magical items, but they were expensive and rarely used anymore. Most magic was limited to the elves these days, humans apparently breeding out their magical abilities. But at least it explained the reason Squall stayed with the performing troupe that he seemed to hate.
"If you're having difficulties getting him into bed, I'd be happy to give you pointers as your older and more experienced brother," he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
"That isn't the problem."
"Oh? Perhaps you are unable--"
Seifer cut him short with a deadly glare.
Irvine laughed, obviously unthreatened. "Then tell me what's bothering you."
Sighing, green eyes shifted back to the night sky. "He doesn't respond no matter what I do."
"Is that all. Certainly Kiros would have an aphrodisiac for you to use."
"The little bastard still wouldn't let himself enjoy any of it. And... I don't want just a fuck."
Eyes wide in interest, Irvine grinned. "And here I thought all of your male partners were just about a quick fuck."
"... ..." It was true that he used men only for physical pleasures which a refined woman of the courts couldn't offer, but Squall brought out different emotions and thoughts that no other had managed to before. Seifer doubted it was anything singular about the dancer that created this strange hunger for him, forget the young man's ignorance of causing that desire. Once. Just once he wanted to have the lithe body at his mercy, begging for increased pleasure by his hands. But thus far, the brunette refused to respond to even a simple kiss.
"Well, if it's a matter changing his mind instead of just his body, why not ask Laguna?"
"What, a type of love spell?"
"There's only one more night of the festivals. Might as well make the best of it," Irvine stated with a lazy smile that suggested he had plans for the coming night as well.
Smirking, Seifer leaned back in his chair and stretched out his lengthy body. "Fuck, why not? It's only one night."
~ <> ~
Green eyes were fixed as Seifer watched the current performance. The dancers were dressed in dark colors this time, clothes tight to their lean frames and faces hidden by feathered masks. Instead of a solo dance this night, Squall was paired with a smaller woman of shoulder length hair. His teeth clenched, Seifer watched as they moved in sync with bodies pressed closed together in a way that clearly mimicked sex. He cursed the woman's luck, but then smiled bitterly at the realization of why the man was so difficult to arouse - Squall would obviously need more than some heavy petting.
The dance ended with scattered clapping and the performers moved from the floor in search of tokens and other possibilities. With a stride stiff in purpose, one dancer made his way to the end of the head table. Eyes gray in the shade of his mask, Squall stared down at the sitting prince but said nothing.
"Impressive as always."
"We leave in the morning."
Tilting his head slightly, Seifer viewed a large man sitting at a far table of the dining hall, the dark eyes clearly focused on them. "Don't worry. You've more than pleased me. Think you can bear one last night in my presence?"
"If you wish it, my prince."
"Come. There should be refreshments waiting in my room."
They were silent walking through the empty hallways, though Seifer smiled at the realization that the dancer no longer fell in step directly behind him, but closer to his side. Whether the brunette would admit it or not, a sense of comfort had developed between them. Not nearly the level Seifer desired, but it was there.
Letting Squall enter the chambers before him, Seifer eyed the black clad ass without shame. With the door closed and locked, he turned to the still standing brunette who was currently frowning at an object sitting on a couch arm.
"Why do you keep this?"
"Because you won it for me, obviously."
That only made his frown deepen as he adjusted a bent ear of the toy kitten.
"Sit down and relax."
Lowering to the cushioned seat of the couch, Squall removed his feathered mask and laid it on top of the small table. Meanwhile, the prince took two long stemmed glasses in hand and offered out the one with a grape placed on the rim. The dancer eyed the dark red liquid, wary of the contents.
"It's simple juice. I know alcohol doesn't sit well with you."
His expression softening, Squall took the glass.
"To this one night."
Nodding to the toast, Squall tapped his glass against the other and after a testing sip, he then drank down the juice deeply, most likely thirsty from the performance earlier. Watching the dancer closely, Seifer only sipped at his red wine, barely tasting the expensive liquid. Slowly the brunette lowered his glass, and gray-blue eyes blinked in slight confusion.
"Squall," he said softly, taking the glass out of the loose grip and placing it onto the table with his own drink. Cool eyes were fixed with the green before him as Seifer leaned in close. He gently licked tight lips, warning Squall of his intentions. When the dancer didn't flinch at the moist touch, Seifer pressed further in the attempt to coax him to open up. Eventually there was surrender and the prince deepened the kiss. As several times before, there was no response when he stroked the juice sweetened tongue. Just when he was about to concede to another failure, a light touch was at his back and Squall leaned into the kiss.
Eventually they parted, breaths heavy as their eyes met. Smirking, Seifer ran his fingers through the thick locks and angled him to better see eyes of widened pupils thinly ringed by gray. Without a word, the blonde stood up from the couch and gently pulled the dancer close to him. Squall sighed quietly at the contact before his lips were once again taken into a brief kiss.
"To this one night," Seifer whispered against heated lips.
Taking a wrist in hand, he quickly led the dancer to the adjoining room. Silently he reminded himself to calm his lust and enjoy the moment. Seifer directed the man to sit on the end of the mattress, then was caught off guard when slim, but strong arms wrapped around his back to pull him close and force them flat onto the bed.
"Gods, Squall," he said as he buried his face into the hollow of the brunette's neck and took in the unique scent. Nibbling at the salty flesh just above the golden circlet, Seifer let his hand drift downward along cool black material. At the discovery of already hardened flesh, he smirked and squeezed firmly.
Breath caught in his throat, the prince leaned up to better see the pleasure filled face. "You little prick. I knew you could simply say my name."
Eyes closed tight, Squall panted at the continued pressure on his groin. "Shouldn't... not my place... nh!"
Momentarily relieving the man of pleasurable stress, Seifer slid back off the bed in order to rid himself of constricting clothing. Lacing was never so difficult to undo, but it gave him extra moments to look over the darkly clothed boy taunt in need. When hungry eyes scanned his own body, creamy skin shivered in desire. Placing a knee onto the mattress, he set to work at releasing Squall from the tight pants, slowly revealing a healthy erection and then tanned legs.
A cool hand pressed lightly against his cheek, asking for his attention. "Seifer... I need..."
"Shush, I'm getting there."
He shook his head, dark locks shifting like silk in the dim light of the room. Lips formed in a vague smile, Squall stood up from the mattress while grazing fingers against the broad chest, purposely teasing tight nipples. He walked around to the side and crawled onto the plush pillows at the head of the bed where he motioned the blonde forward.
Licking his lips at the sight of lightly darkened skin complemented by the black shirt and no other clothes, Seifer moved quickly up the large mattress. He leaned in to kiss the tempting lips and savored the continuing response he received in return. Hands firm on his shoulders, the blonde was turned around so that Squall had him pressed against the headboard. As he straddled the man's thighs, the dancer deepened their kiss and rotated his hips forward, prompting a shared moan between them. Seifer stroked smooth skin hidden under soft cloth while he let the brunette choose his own rhythm as their erections brushed against each other.
Suddenly there was a pause in all motions as a careful hand gripped his arousal, easily directing it into place. Seifer couldn't hold back a blissful growl as tightness overwhelmed him. The dancer separated their kiss, whimpering softly at the intrusion of his body.
"You all right?"
Forehead resting on the blonde's shoulder, Squall breathed deeply before moving up on his knees and then impaling himself fully on the thick erection, a quiet cry escaping his lips. He rested there momentarily, squeezing tightly around the incased hardness. Then he began to move once more with a painfully slow rhythm.
"Nh... so fucking perfect," he stated roughly, taking a pierced earlobe into his mouth.
If it weren't for other things taking up his senses, Seifer would have laughed at the situation. He had planned to take control of the night's activities, to show the dancer what he had been missing all this time. Instead, Squall had succeeded in proving his value to the prince, and Seifer didn't have it in him to complain. Their hands were everywhere in fervent touches, cloth created sweet heat against skin, and noises were quiet in mutual content.
The final release was blessed, but then the orgasmic high drained away to be replaced by bitterness in Seifer. He placed a hand in the sweat dampened hair and massaged the scalp lightly while recovering from their activities. Kissing an exposed temple, he softly whispered an apology.
Abruptly Squall pushed up from his position, roughly knocking aside the arms that held him. Seifer had a bare chance to see eyes inflamed with cold fire before the dancer leaned heavily on a knee that was placed on top of the softened penis. The prince could barely find air to growl out a curse when a hand gripped his throat painfully, fingers purposely placed on the healing bruise from nights previous.
The dancer's lips twitched in silent fury before he apparently gave up attempts at speaking and quickly moved off of the stunned and pained man. Watching the other stride off, Seifer forced himself to get off the bed and limp after the half-clothed brunette.
"Squall...! Wait a fucking second."
He paused at the closed entrance, but didn't turn around. "What, didn't have enough fucking for one night?"
"You can't just leave like this. You aren't even dressed."
Releasing the lock, he opened the door in the clear statement that he was going to do just that.
"I swear, I didn't mean--"
"To drug me for an easy fuck?"
"Only because you wouldn't give me a chance!"
Squall scoffed. "I was a fool to trust you."
Words unable to form because of the constriction in his chest, Seifer stood stunned in place as the object of his desire left without a glance back. To that point, the prince had managed to convince himself that he only needed the one night to rid himself of the foolish obsession over a man he knew nothing about. There was never a thought about breaking trust. How could he consider such a thing from the frigid man?
Scowling at the closed door, he mumbled a curse at Laguna before picking up the emptied glass and throwing hard against a far wall. The sorcerer had said the potion would last at least the full night and possibly several days afterwards. Seifer had planned for more than the 'easy fuck' that the night had become. He had hoped to draw out words from the smaller man, and perhaps even discover what he could do make Squall desire him. But that was only a foolish hope, outweighed by the simple need to have the brunette enjoy his time with the prince.
Sighing, Seifer spared one last look at the door before returning to his bedroom. They both needed the time to cool down and think. Picking up the discarded pants from the floor near his bed, Seifer fingered the dark cloth while making the silent promise to amend his wrongs as best he could in the morning. However, he held no hopes to rebuild the unrealized trust between them. He knew he didn't deserve that with the trust destroyed because of his impatient desire for one night of false love.
Author's Whining -- Whoo, finally getting around to the requests I've had sitting around for a long while. Next chap of angsty fun might be a long time coming (holiday havoc and all), so I hope Miss Dincht can forgive me. ^_- Figuring about three chapters total for this story (if it behaves!). Anywho, really hadn't expected to be writing another mpreg outside of the Life series. At this point, I should just surrender and say there will always be another mpreg story in the future for me to write. =P