So much of this could have been something they explored and learned together. Another way to try and test one another. Squall had thought of it often. There had been more than enough fodder for it back at Garden. Moments that could have tipped the scales if he'd just been brave enough to tip back his head to meet Seifer's smirking mouth with his own. The same mouth that was now wrapped around him; heat and suction and the subtle vibration of Seifer's enjoyment which was enough to make Squall's thighs shake.
His eyes were fixated on the sight of Seifer on his knees. What had once been an impossible fantasy now felt overwhelmingly like everything. As if the void of Nothing he'd been floating in had been suddenly replaced. Black and white made technicolor. "Don't come." The order is ragged, ripped from him on a shakey breath out as Squall fists his hands in Seifer's hair. It's longer than he's ever seen it but it feels made for this. Like holding the reins of a wild animal.
"I--" Need crests in him as his own cock throbs with the thoughts spilling molten through his imagination. "I'm returning the favor." He can't say it. Can't bring himself to wrap his words around the promise the way he wants to wrap them around Seifer's cock. The newness of it all, the novelty of it being Seifer whose mouth he presses deeper into, is almost enough to make this end sooner than Squall wants. He can feel the tightness in his balls, but the idea of giving Seifer the satisfaction, even after all they've been through, is enough for Squall to breathe through the threat of orgasm.
Instead, he slips a hand between them in the narrow space between Seifer's mouth and what hasn't yet been swallowed. Squall grips himself at the base and rasps low, "After. After I've gotten all of myself down your throat." His experience might have been limited, but Hyne, if there's one thing he knows what he wants: it's Seifer. As much of him as he can have.
Talk about a command that was both arousing and frustrating all at once. Especially with those hands in his hair, holding on like it's a lifeline. Like Seifer deserves to be a lifeline. Like he deserves anything at all. But he does his best, because he could never live his life without rising to Squall's challenges. Not once. So he takes his hand away from himself, tries to steel his will, and just goes along with the ride.
A defense that is of course quickly ruined by Squall's latest strike. The idea that such a thing was a 'favor' and that it would be returned. Didn't he know that this was worship? That this was subservience? That this was a final and fulfilling surrender? How could it be better than this? How could Squall ever come down to his level?
And the follow up blow, promise of heaven and hell all in one, earns another deep groan from Seifer, not unlike taking a proper strike.
Only Squall could find a way to turn all of this into a new battle. Which makes it all the better.
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His eyes were fixated on the sight of Seifer on his knees. What had once been an impossible fantasy now felt overwhelmingly like everything. As if the void of Nothing he'd been floating in had been suddenly replaced. Black and white made technicolor. "Don't come." The order is ragged, ripped from him on a shakey breath out as Squall fists his hands in Seifer's hair. It's longer than he's ever seen it but it feels made for this. Like holding the reins of a wild animal.
"I--" Need crests in him as his own cock throbs with the thoughts spilling molten through his imagination. "I'm returning the favor." He can't say it. Can't bring himself to wrap his words around the promise the way he wants to wrap them around Seifer's cock. The newness of it all, the novelty of it being Seifer whose mouth he presses deeper into, is almost enough to make this end sooner than Squall wants. He can feel the tightness in his balls, but the idea of giving Seifer the satisfaction, even after all they've been through, is enough for Squall to breathe through the threat of orgasm.
Instead, he slips a hand between them in the narrow space between Seifer's mouth and what hasn't yet been swallowed. Squall grips himself at the base and rasps low, "After. After I've gotten all of myself down your throat." His experience might have been limited, but Hyne, if there's one thing he knows what he wants: it's Seifer. As much of him as he can have.
no subject
A defense that is of course quickly ruined by Squall's latest strike. The idea that such a thing was a 'favor' and that it would be returned. Didn't he know that this was worship? That this was subservience? That this was a final and fulfilling surrender? How could it be better than this? How could Squall ever come down to his level?
And the follow up blow, promise of heaven and hell all in one, earns another deep groan from Seifer, not unlike taking a proper strike.
Only Squall could find a way to turn all of this into a new battle. Which makes it all the better.