It's almost infuriating that Seifer is good, even at this. The surety in the movement, the utter confidence with which Seifer opens his mouth for him, makes Squall want to keep him there on his knees until the smugness drains out of him. His breath catches with the feel of him, the heat and cushion of Seifer's tongue, and the curl of it under the head of him that makes Squall tighten his grip in Seifer's hair.
"Hyne," the word gusts out of him like an illicit prayer that's as much to ground him as it is to praise the motion. Except he doesn't want to praise Seifer when he looks like this, a holdover from the stubborn way they used to clash as reckless teenagers with neither of them giving the other even an inch of approval. It's what had made the applause after the SeeD exam so disarming. They've always had the capacity to encourage each other...Seifer had just had nothing to lose by finally showing it.
And even though there's nothing to lose by enjoying all of Seifer's obvious skill, Squall still can't help but rein in the way his breath has gone ragged or the stillness of his body despite the way his hips want to drive himself the rest of the way down Seifer's throat.
"I hate that I'm not the first," he confesses in way that comes out strained, as if the admission surprises even him. His treacherous mind wants to supply him with all of the other men it could have been, but Squall refuses to get past the first several faces because they don't matter. Just like everything he's done with Rinoa. All that matters is: "I'll be the last."
It's meant to be a promise but the way he presses himself a few inches deeper into Seifer's mouth feels like a parry instead. A counterpoint to the opening strike of Seifer's tongue. Even in this, Squall finds a way to make this a dance between them.
no subject
"Hyne," the word gusts out of him like an illicit prayer that's as much to ground him as it is to praise the motion. Except he doesn't want to praise Seifer when he looks like this, a holdover from the stubborn way they used to clash as reckless teenagers with neither of them giving the other even an inch of approval. It's what had made the applause after the SeeD exam so disarming. They've always had the capacity to encourage each other...Seifer had just had nothing to lose by finally showing it.
And even though there's nothing to lose by enjoying all of Seifer's obvious skill, Squall still can't help but rein in the way his breath has gone ragged or the stillness of his body despite the way his hips want to drive himself the rest of the way down Seifer's throat.
"I hate that I'm not the first," he confesses in way that comes out strained, as if the admission surprises even him. His treacherous mind wants to supply him with all of the other men it could have been, but Squall refuses to get past the first several faces because they don't matter. Just like everything he's done with Rinoa. All that matters is: "I'll be the last."
It's meant to be a promise but the way he presses himself a few inches deeper into Seifer's mouth feels like a parry instead. A counterpoint to the opening strike of Seifer's tongue. Even in this, Squall finds a way to make this a dance between them.