If there's a power to this then it isn't felt until Seifer is sinking deliberately to his knees for him. The position inspires a heady thrill that pulses through him and leaves Squall hard enough that the slickness against his palm makes the glide of his fist easier as he tempers himself with another stroke. He's seen Seifer on his knees for sorceresses and for respite. Never for him.

The shock of what it does to him makes Squall's breath come in a little more raggedly. It had been impossible to pin down what being with Seifer could look like, but nothing in his imagination could have competed with the earnest desire written on the other's expression. An expression that's so close to Squall's dick his skin feels too thin, too taut, to contain how much he needs him.

"Seifer." He steadies himself with a hand on one broad shoulder but all it does is remind him of how warm and inviting it feels to touch. Squall skates his fingers to the back of his neck and even if he tells himself it's to make it easier to step out of his pants, all it really does is draw Seifer closer. Close enough that he can feel his breath against his thigh.

"I thought you wanted to watch." It's a miracle Squall can get the words out, gruff and low, as he resumes his slow stroking, base to tip then down again. This is better. Having Seifer's hands peeling off his clothing, having the heat of him so close, Squall would prefer this to the singularity of Seifer's gaze any day.