Author's Note: This is my first story as first person. I usually stick to third person because I found I had less grammar mistakes, but I thought I give it a try. I was inspired to write a Squall x Irvine fic (I love all pairings, and threesomes. I do like Squall x Seifer the best, but Iím open to all. ^_^) when I read ĎSmall Truthsí at Tumbleweeds. Fantastic story! Anyway, I will warn you again, this is extremely angst. I have gotten into the characterís heads, and I think Iím scared 0_o. I know. I can hear you people asking. ĎWhy the hell am I starting another story when I have others to finish?í Itís because I have writerís block with the other stories. I was roaring to go with this story, so I started it. And much to peopleís relief, I am finishing the sequel to ĎChoicesí. Iíll shut up now. Read! : )
DISCLAIMER: Disclaimer: I donít own FFVIII, plain and simple.
By Drakon Sword
Ya, itís me. Irvine Kinneas, the womanizer. The skirt chaser, the charmer, the playboy, the whore, the slut - blah blah blah - so on and so on. At this point I donít care. Thatís what everyone thinks I am. As soon as I started talking to someone, they think Iím chatting her up. Iím not that shallow, thank you very little, but that what they see and think. I know they do, and I guess, in a way, thatís what I wanted.
Itís been a year since all those goddamned sorceresses were destroyed. Took too fucking long to destroy those lesbian freaks, if ya ask me. Iím just glad that itís over. We all are. Including Seifer, who has graced us with his presence since he returned to Balamb Garden not long after the time compression. Squall found him, and they had a talk, somehow convincing him to return (none of us know how, but there seems to be more to them then anyone knows).
Itís not that I donít like him. I just donít know him, and I have other reasons, but they are beside the point. Seifer ainít bad, or anything. Just confused like we all are. Actually, he helped me pass and become a SeeD. Out of all the people I thought would help me, he was the last, but together we aced the ranks, since he had to retake his last year like me, to serve our saviour, our hero, our commander, Squall Leonhart.
I know. I know. I sound bitter. Guess what? Behind all this laidback, flirting exterior, I am. I seem happy, not like Selphie, Miss Sunshine herself, but Iím not that light hearted. Itís a shell, just like fucking everything that has a heart beat. Where did I hear that? Oh ya. Zell said that.
I know what they think of me, and itís the same as everyone else has thought of me. I know they still like me, and we all great friends, including Seifer and I, but they disapprove of my Ďextracurricular activitiesí. That was what Seifer had called it. Or was it Quistis? Anyway, I do hear this little tidbits of information as I make my way around. I have good ears, and I was trained to be an assassin. I sneak around, and they say things when they think Iím not around, or canít ear. Not like I have to hear it to know what theyíre thinking anyway.
Why do I do it? Why havenít I stopped? Why havenít I settled down with Selphie, who had been determined to strap me down since the day we met? Why do I still jump from one skirt to another in a matter of hours? Do I care? Or am I just that shallow?
You want the truth? I donít know. I really not sure how it started, and I, frankly, donít know how to stop it. It has become my rut. Like Seifer and Squallís rivalry. Quistisí over achieving, and low confidence. Zellís overabundance, and his tendency to be defensive. Selphieís forever optimism, and her immaturity. Rinoaís daydreaming, and romanticism. Seiferís sarcasm, and needing to put others down to make himself feel higher and better. Squallís pushing people away, and putting his mission before emotions. I know them all, and they are growing out of them, while I continue to strut in my grove.
Realistically, somewhere everyone is fucked up. Even you. We all push it away inside, and pretend it isnít there, but it is. Subconsciously, we start habits that punish ourselves for the weakness, hence Squall with his suicidal tendencies in missions, or we start habits that fulfill our fear. Seifer hates the fact that Squall was better than him, so he hit Squall to make himself feel better. It worked especially when he won, which he often did because Squall would find himself feeling with Seifer, and consequently losing. Squall pushed everyone away because he didnít want to feel. Hating himself because no one else would care for him, or at least he thought, and was suicidal, subconsciously or not we arenít sure. After being abandon he was afraid of being left alone again, and thought he was worthless. Though he may never admit it.
Quistis had little confidence in herself, so to make herself feel better, and to make sure others didnít question her security, she pushed herself, like Squall, to impossible limits. Becoming a teacher at the age of 17, and demanding respect, when she didnít have any for herself.
Selphie had seen enough ugly things in her life. I know she has, and I have seen the ghost that haunts under those emerald eyes. Her over optimism is her attempt to hide the memories away. Innocence is bliss. As long as she denies it, and refuses it, the evil isnít there. However, when she did see it, hence times with the sorceresses, she is worse than Squall, or Seifer. An anger that I, for one, donít want to it see again.
Zell. Well, Zell is a different story. Zell had everything he needed growing up, including a family, but his confidence was as existed as Quistisí. However, instead of over achieving, he pulled himself under. Low expectations means less work, and less let-downs. It makes him seem immature. Soon as someone makes fun of him, Seifer who seemed to see Zellís low confidence under all the muscle, he would become very defensive. Very easy to anger.
Then thereís Rinoa. She isnít a part of the orphanage gang, but her life wasnít any easier. I know that. Her mother died in a car crash, and her relationship with her father went down the drain. She shares Selphieís desire in refusing reality. However, she does it in a different way. All those stories, and movies she has watched have pushed their way down into her subconscious making her long for the happily ever after. Where the knight in shining armour saves the lovely damsel in distress. Iím sorry Rinoa, there isnít always a happy ending.
Funny isnít it. Out of people to be sitting back, moving and deciphering under the shells of people, last of all was me. I know youíre thinking that. Believe me. Everyone does. Itís because one night about 7 months after the sorceressí wars, lying beside my latest lay (A chick from Dollet. She was really cute, actually.), I started asking myself questions. It all came down to one, ĎWho was I?í The scary part was I couldnít answer. Who I think I am, who I want to be, and who I really am, are all completely different things.
I am Irvine Kinneas, sniper, part of the gang who saved the world. That is me, but there is more. So much that I had been denying to myself, and to everyone else. I was digging it up. Really looking in the mirror. Not what everyone saw, but what was really inside.
I was as confident in myself as was everyone else, which was practically dick all. None of us had achieved that true confidence. We were still all children, who wanted to be held, and wanted to leave reality. I think it was partially because none of us had parents, and many of us saw them die. I did. I know Selphie did. Iím pretty sure Seifer did.
In reaction to our loss, and out traumatic events in our lives, we created these shells. Some pushed, and cursed the world, hence Squall and Seifer, while others embraced it with innocence and refusal to admit the evils, like Selphie and Rinoa. I was more like Zell and Quistis, my activities proved whom I really hated. Instead of hating the world, or the evil, I hated myself. I truly hated myself, and I went to ways to prove that I was something. It never made myself believe, but it was an attempt to make others see, and believe. Unfortunately, it didnít work either.
Iím not a virgin, and I wonít deny it. Iíve been lucky that so far I havenít contracted any STDís, but I know now why I put myself so much at risk. I hated myself. No one had adopted me, so I felt worthless, unloved, hated, and unwanted. Iím sure everyone, excluding Zell, feel the same somewhere inside. Quistis may have been adopted, but she had problems with them, so itís still there.
Anyway, in reaction to my self hatred, I threw myself at people, wanting them to want me, and make me feel that Iím not that worthless, or unlovable. That I am someone. It worked, for a while, I suppose. It still does, occasionally. For a few moments will I screw, or being screwed by my partner at the moment (I swing both ways. Iím bi-sexual. Better chances of getting a date for Friday night.), I feel wanted. I feel needed for those few tender seconds.
Unfortunately, now it doesnít work. It doesnít compare to those days I ran around with the gang fighting the evil. There I did matter, I was needed, and wanted. It wasnít sexual, but I was needed in a way that I canít begin to describe. That void I had been trying to fill with meaningless fucks, suddenly overflowed. It isnít full anymore, but I know now what I need. Love. I need love.
What the gang and I shared was love. It wasnít the come-fuck-me love. It was a family love. A bond that not even death could destroy. It was love that we were all lacking. Even Zell has grown up since those days, even though he had his Maís love. He needed that bond like we all did.
Now, a year after. Everyone has grown, and matured. Seifer isnít as cruel. Actually, he and Zell are pretty good friends. The only battles he engages in are with Squall. They still strive against each other as rivals like they did before. Just this time, they are friends. Some speculate itís more, or at least will be. No comment on my part.
Squall actually talks now. He only really opens to Quistis, and Seifer, but has conversations with the others, including me. He isnít cold, or an asshole anymore. His suicidal tendencies have withered away. He still dresses as an badass. He likes his leather, and I, for one, ainít complaining.
Quistis isnít as self-conscious anymore. Squall employed her as an instructor again, heís the headmaster now, and she is much better than she was before. Sheís happy where she is, and isnít overdoing herself anymore. Actually, she had become the ear that everyone runs. She has become the big Sis over us in a way.
Selphie is still forever Miss Sunshine, and that will never change. However, she isnít as immature about it anymore. She looks at things forever optimistically, but realistically as well. Sheís still the one that raises everyoneís mood, and drags us out to do fun things. Selphie is our little ray of sunshine that runs on sugar.
Zell isnít as defensive anymore. He has matured, and is much more confident in himself. Seifer stills calls him Ďchickení, or Ďchicken-wussí, but Zell has long given up. Zell hates it, but doesnít start hollering at him. He usually just rolls his eyes, glares, or pretends he didnít notice. Zell doesnít bounce around, and punching at peopleís faces, anymore. He saves that for the battlefield, and the missions. He has actually become very mellow in that past year.
Rinoa is still Rinoa. We all know she still hopes, wishes, and dreams for the happy ending, but she knows that not everything turns out that way. Some things end happily, but it is never the ending. Life still goes on. Her and Squall broke up, they were never really together pre say, but itís official that they arenít now. It wasnít ugly because they are still friends, and she still hangs around. Itís more of a sister-brother relationship now. Itís the same with Seifer. I think Seifer and Squall are taking the sorceress knight thing a too little serious, but they are still protective of her. I think that partially why she hasnít fully grown up, but she has at least repaired her relationship with her father.
Me? Huh! How have I matured in the past year? If you ask any one of the gang, they say I havenít, or very minimal. Like I said before, I donít see the point of telling anyone different. I still go out every couple of nights, but isnít to club like everyone thinks. I see it. The roll of the eyes as I walk out the garden. I can hear the mumbles of me going out fucking, not clubbing. I think Squall said that.
You what to know what I really do? Iíll tell you, for maybe youíll believe me. I donít go out to a club. Actually, I go out and sit by the ocean, or some other secluded spot, and think. I just think. Let my mind wander, and brood like Squall does. Just think about life, what I want to do, my friends, and other things. How else do you think I have figured all this out?
I havenít told them this. You see, in some way I feel I have to keep up appearances. I think itís partially because Iím feeling something deeper than friendship with one of my pals. If I keep up appearances, then I can continue flirting, and hitting on him without anyone questioning my motives, or scaring him away. Also, to keep my skin.
I never dated, or fucked Selphie, unlike popular belief. Everyone thinks we did, but we didnít. No one has really asked, but I know they all assume it. I couldnít, wouldnít. Selphie was, and still is, my friend. Somehow I knew I would hurt her if I did. I never settled down, and I know she was wishing I would give her a roll in the hay. At the time, I was still running from one bed to the next (or any other means of privacy) I would have hurt her, unintentionally. I couldnít promise her anything, and I still canít. Especially, since I consider her a best friend, my best, and I am feeling something for another one of out little gang. The object of my latest wet dreams.
I know. I know. Iím how old? And Iím still having wet dreams like a 13-year-old. Actually, itís pretty pathetic when you think about it. The playboy himself is jacking off thinking about the man of his dreams. I can charm my way out of a disaster, but canít get him out of my head. Then again, his pedestal is pretty high. Iíll need a ladder before even considering trying to coax him down because of how he considers me, outside of friendship, Iím probably pretty low. I know that they all love me unconditionally, but wish my whore-ish ways would come to an end. Little do they know . . .
ďIrvine!Ē A definitely feminie voice called at me as I walked down the hall. I supposedly come from my latest screw. Sure. I mean, I not even glowing, but then again, maybe I never did. They never meant anything, but I guess I look no different from a quick tumble in the sheets then sitting out watching the sunset.
ďHuh? Oh hey Quisty!Ē I smiled, watching as the blond hurried over to me. She was very good looking, and much more with the confidence she now held herself with. She was dressed in her uniform, and by the way she was lagging behind a bit, she was obviously up late marking yesterdayís exams.
ďHi. What are you up to?Ē She asked, but I saw the flicker in her sky blue eyes. She didnít really want to know, and already had a good idea. Like I said earlier, why bother telling them different? They already assumed I was fucking the last thing that I threw myself at whenever I went out. Why do they all see me that way?
ďNothing much. I was just going to grab a hot shower. How about ya?Ē I asked, removing my wet hat. I wasnít soaked, but a little wet from my walk back to the garden. The skies had decided to open up, and it poured.
ďPretty ugly, eh? Not sure where it came from.Ē Quistis tsked as she looked out the window to my right. A long crack of lightning split down the indigo sky, and caused a flicker of eerie light to flash across Quistisí face. The thunder quickly followed. Mingling with the slaps of rain on the window.
ďIím glad I got back when I could. I may have had to stay the night by the looks of this.Ē I said, flipping my wet ponytail over my shoulder. Quistis shook her head, and crossed her arms.
ďIím glad too. I wish for no soul to be out there. However, you may have had an easier time finding a place to stay for the night.Ē Ouch! See. I told you. They all think I fucked anything that walks on two feet. Ha! Only if they knew.
ďMaybe so. So, what-cha doing out here? Itís late. Whereís everyone?Ē I asked, changing the subject. I didnít want to pursue Quistisí last comment. I see no point in pursuing it. What exactly would come of it? They just think I was a liar too. Or maybe just disillusional. Hey! Maybe even in denial.
ďZell is out with Selphie, and Seifer on a mission in Winhill. They should be back in three days or so. I think Rinoa went with them to go to Timber to see Zone, Watts, and the rest of her friends. Squallís up in his office finishing off some paper work.Ē Quistis sighed, rubbing her forehead. It obviously took a lot of work to remember it all. She was beat.
ďAnd youíre on your way to bed.Ē I stated, not asking. I basically telling her that I would drag her there, and she knew I meant it. I may kid around, but when it comes to anyone in the gang, I was serious, and quite protective (Much like Squall and Seifer). Iím not sure if they knew it, but I was. I never played with them.
ďActually, I am. I just finished marking those damned exams. I was going to drop this off to Squall, and then go for a long hot shower, curl up with a book, and fall asleep. Some Friday night, eh? Yours must have been more interesting.Ē Quistis said, even though she was tired, she was till poking at my habits. Or what she at least she thought were my habits.
ďMaybe so, but I donít work as hard as you. Why didnít Squall send me to Winhill with the others? Iím not busy.Ē I said, and instantly regretting it when I saw the flash of impatience cross her features.
ďYou werenít here. We had no way of getting a hold of you, and Selphie had her trip to Trabia planned for tomorrow, but she said she cover for you. I donít know why!Ē Quistis snapped. I knew she was tired, and cranky so I didnít let them get to me. However, Quistis did have a point. Maybe I should get a cellphone.
ďShit! I didnít think - Ē I started to say, running hand through my hair.
ďExactly! You didnít think! Irvine, these . . . habits of yours are getting out of control! Youíre going to end up sick, or dead! Youíve got to stop it! We canít keep covering for you! Youíre almost 20! Time to grow up!Ē Quistis exclaimed, throwing her hands up. She then sighed tiredly rubbing a temple as I remained silent. Little did she know that her words were hitting right on target. ďIím sorry, Irvine. Iím tired, but you have to stop this sleeping around. We are all worried about you. It isnít healthy. Physically, or mentally.Ē Quistis muttered, looking at me with stern eyes. They were also pleading, imploring.
There was silence between us for a few moments as I digested her words. Considering my next actions with care. Should I tell her then truth? Or was it easier to keep playing the role? Lightning flashed again, and thunder crashed at the same time. She waited for my response.
ďLook. Iím going to go talk to Squall about taking over Selphieís place on the mission. Iíll take that disk up with me.Ē I said, reaching a hand out to take the disk from her. She looked at me. I had avoided the questions, and jabs she made at me. She was displeased, but impressed at my coolness.
ďFine. Iíll talk to you later.Ē She said, slapping the disk in my hand. She was too tired to continue to lecture, but definitely implied that it wasnít over. Someday she would pick up where she left off. Maybe then I can tell the truth.
I watched her retreating back for a few moments, considering it, before I turned to head to the elevator. I stepped into the elevator, and leaned against the side as it rose to our destination, the Headmasterís office.
I put on my hat, the AC in the garden had pretty much dried my clothes by this time. I was wearing brown dress pants with a white button dress shirt and a white wifebeater underneath, which had all dried quickly. My brown cowboy hat was still a little damp as were the end of my hair, but in about an half an hour, they would be dried as well.
I stepped out of the elevator when the doors opened at the third floor. I walked to the thick double doors, my black boots clicking on the tile flooring. I gave the door a few good raps with my knuckles before hearing the usual ĎCome in!í from Squall, who sat inside.
I opened the door, and saw pretty much what I expected. The office was still the same. It was ridiculously clean, other than the desk that is. The desk was covered with various sheets of paper, and files. Of course, Squall was behind it all. He hadnít looked up yet, so I decided to study the man of my latest affections as I sat down, waiting for him to acknowledge me.
He hadnít changed a great deal since the sorceressí wars. No one really did. Well, there were little changes. Hair length, colour, piercings, tattoos, and fashion, but Squall, himself, hadnít changed much.
He was still 5'8'í, and forever would be. His chocolate hair had been chopped off at his cheekbone, making him brush it away from his face even more. He couldnít tuck it behind his ears anymore, which was driving him insane. I could tell just from watching him for a few minutes. Squall had a tattoo of Griever without the cross sword on his upper right arm. It was just a black outline with black with silver highlighting the places were light would reflect off of it, and the eye painted red. It was a work of art because it gleamed like it was silver. Iím not sure how they did it, but it looked fabulous, and made him even more dangerous, which meant to me (and many others) sexier.
He was wearing a black tank top, and grey leather pants with black combat boots. Three belts around his waist (Itís a Squall fashion, which I, for one, think works for him.), two earrings, and his pendant around his neck. He wore black leather, but fingerless gloves, which just added to his dangerous look. I think if Squall changed any, he just looked sexier, and a bit more dangerous, I suppose. He needed something to back people away because he wasnít cold anymore. He was polite, and talked to people, if they talked to him first. Thus, badass look, and they stay away.
ďIrvine.Ē He said, his voice causing shivers to run down my spine. I looked into his bluish grey eyes, and nodded at him since he had finally acknowledged me. Lightning flashed behind him, and thunder crashed as I stood up.
ďHey Squall! Quistis wanted me to drop this off. Marks for the exams, I guess.Ē I said, casually, walking to the desk, and tossing it to him. He caught it deftly, and grunted, nodding, as he looked at it.
ďShe also told you about the mission.Ē Squall stated, rather than asking. I could hear the displeased ring in his voice as well. It hurt to hear it. I took off my hat with one hand, and scratched the crown of my head as I turned back to look at Squall, who was watching my with crossed arms, steadily.
ďYa. Shit! I didnít think anything would come up till tomorrow!Ē I said, throwing up my hands in disgust, and then stopped replacing my hat. Squall offered nothing, which slightly angered me. ďI know Selphie had plans, so I plan to go to Winhill tomorrow, and take over. She can go from Trabia from there.Ē I said, my voice quieter, but Squall sighed.
ďIt was last minute, but a SeeD is always supposed to be available.Ē Squall said sternly. What did I expect? He was the ultimate soldier. The very best, which was why he was Headmaster, and our commander. No one measured up to him. Well maybe Seifer. Seifer was the only one that was on the same level as him. Thatís why they are still rivals. I felt bile rise to my throat as I thought about it. Not that I didnít like Seifer, I was just jealous at the thought of him and Squall closer than rivals, or friends.
ďSo, itís okay if I take over tomorrow?Ē I asked, after a few moments of tense silence. Squall stared at me for a few moments. His eyes cutting through me. It was unnerving, and arousing. Thankfully, over the years I gained control over certain parts of my body. However, it was really putting my talents at the test.
ďFine, but youíll have to make the arrangements. I would, but Iím a little busy. Besides, I think youíll be able to find better, if not faster, ways of getting there.Ē Squall said, simply standing up. I inwardly cringed. It seemed like everyone was throwing barbs at my lifestyle today. I rested to urge to say whatever, to mock Squall. I sure as hell wanted to. Everyone was shitting on me today, it seemed.
ďRight. Iíll give the guy a blow job if he flies me to Winhill. You really think Iím that low?Ē I asked as we walked to the elevator. The lights flashed as the lightning, and thunder crashed at the same time. We both stopped, and waited, but the lights stayed on.
ďBad storm.Ē Squall said, obviously avoiding my question. That was an answer all on its own, if you ask me. He did. He did think I was that bad, and that I would use sex to get whatever I needed and wanted. They probably thought I was selling myself too. God! Now I was really bitter, and angry.
ďRight.Ē Was all I offered as I leaned against the edge of the elevator as he pushed for the first floor. I waited as the door shut, and we started to descend. He also leaned against the opposite side of the elevator, till suddenly the elevator halted, and the lights went out. Throwing us into pitch blackness.
ďWhat the fuck?Ē Squall exclaimed in the darkness. I was too pissed to give a fuck. It look as though it wasnít my day. I was stuck in an elevator with the last person I wanted to be. I was extremely attracted to Squall (It maybe more, but itís still a little too early to really tell), and he thinks Iím slut. Just absolutely, fucking wonderful. ďLooks like we are stuck till the power comes on.Ē Squall sighed after he had pushed, and slammed, the emergency button.
ďThank you for stating the obvious.Ē I muttered, crossing my arms, and Squall looked at me, and I know it was questioning. I know his movements, and I can sense them. I had this perfect chance to flirt with him, but I was still bruised from his last comment to even consider flirting with Squall at the moment. I think he noticed.
ďIs something wrong, Irvine?Ē He asked in the darkness. I couldnít see him, but I sensed his movement as he stepped closer to me. I snorted, and glared at his general direction. I hadnít been trained for an assassin for nothing,
ďNo, Squall. Iím just fine.Ē I sighed, shifting my weight. I could feel Squallís heat. There wasnít much room in the elevator, and I wasnít liking my current situation. I sensed Squallís movement before I felt it. His hand touched my upper arm, and I clenched the muscles in immediate response.
ďThatís bullshit. Somethingís wrong.Ē Squall stated in his forever- commanding tone. I heard the command. Iím not stupid. Shit! Anyone with half of brain could hear it. He wanted to know what was wrong, and he wanted it now. However, I wasnít in the mood to play perfect soldier.
ďTell me something Squall, do you really think I am a slut? Whore? Or whatever my latest nickname is?Ē I asked, my voice bitter as I twitched my arm such a way that his hand fell back to his side, motionless. I couldnít see this, but as I said before, Iím a trained assassin. My hearing has to be perfect, and it is. To some degree I have ESP, to sense movement before they come. It has saved my life on more than one occasion.
ďIrvine . . .Ē I can hear the tremor in his voice. He doesnít want to answer, but he knows he canít avoid it. He canít exactly run, or make an excuse and leave. Iím touched (this is sarcastic, everyone). He doesnít want to hurt me. Guess what? The truth always hurt. White lies are so much easier, but I already know the truth, or at least what they believe.
ďJust do me a favour, and do what a commander is supposed to do. Tell me the truth. Donít want to go leading a SeeD around. A friend at that.Ē I said, sardonically. I sensed his body tensing. I know. Iím being an asshole, but I canít stand the fact that my best friends think Iím a whore. Iím also angry that they wouldnít believe me otherwise.
ďIrvine . . . all I can say is that your current lifestyle is unhealthy. We all think so. You seem to fuck anything that has blood in their veins, and walks on two legs.Ē Squall answered, his voice somewhere between cold, and compassionate. I couldnít help it. I laughed. Laughed mercifully.
This threw Squall off, and I knew it did. Actually, it kinda threw me off too. I may have stopped sleeping around, but still needed something. Iím not sure what it was, but I know that my best friends, my gang, my comrades thinking I was a slut destroyed me. They were supposed to trust me as much as I trusted them, but I didnít, and neither did them. Thatís why I couldnít tell them. They didnít trust me enough to believe me.
ďYouíre an asshole Squall. Blunt too. Not to mention, a perfect soldier. Turn the right knob, and you go to work. I wonder if I can press the right one.Ē I growled as I approached him. Like a true soldier, he didnít move. I know he heard, and sensed me coming. This is Squall Leonhart we are talking about, this asshole is the supreme soldier. I didnít hold a fucking candle stick to him.
ďIrvine . . .Ē It wasnít a sigh, beg, or anything remotely like that as my hands gripped his upper arms. Iím not sure what it was because it wasnít a warning. It was just a statement. Like he needed to remind himself who I was. Or maybe he was reminding me who I was myself, but at the moment I didnít feel like myself.
I pressed my lips to his, angrily. If they thought I was a slut, then may as well live up to my reputation. I bruised his, and my own, lips with my force. My fingers were biting into the muscle on his arms. Just as a true soldier, he didnít even flinch. He stood still and took it all. I bite his lower lip, I felt a warm liquid seep onto my tongue. It was his blood. That was when reality hit, and I hastily pulled away, panting.
I didnít want to hurt him, but in some way it made me feel better. I was hurting, so why shouldnít he? Especially, since he was one of the main reasons that I was. I licked my lips, tasting his blood. I could hear him panting. Our breath echoing off the walls creating our own elevator music.
ďDo you plan to finish that?Ē Squall asked after we stood there for at least 5 minutes (I couldnít see my watch to confirm, but it was a long time, or it seemed to be anyway.). It was like a slap in the face. His tone was dead. Monotone. In any other tone, you could take it as a come on, or flirtatious, but Squall was making a statement. His question was complex, but simple. Was I really a slut?
I didnít move. You see, I had a few choices here. Like Squall, I liked to consider them before reacting. I could let him go, and step away, but it wouldnít stop him from thinking I was a whore, and it would never be the same between us again. If I continued, I would have something to cherish, and he would still think I was a whore. Considering it that way, I only had one choice. I took him up on his offer.
I muttered something down deep in my throat, that I didnít even know what I said, but pressed my lips back to Squallís. Moving my lips, somewhat viciously, along Squallís. I was almost daring, challenging, demanding him to respond.
At first, I received no response. He stood still as stone as I worked my tongue to play with the crease from the slight slack in his lips. I was waiting for him to react. To hit me, push me away, to bite, or at least do something in retaliation. However, it seemed Squall had other plans.
The mouth I was trying to enter, suddenly open. Snapping my eyes opening (not that I could see anything otherwise) I let my tongue slip into the heat I have desired so, and with extreme surprise, and slight nervousness, I thoroughly explored the mouth that was wide in admittance. My heart was beating out of my chest as the lust took over both of us.
Squall returned the passionate kiss, causing my hat to tumble off my head, and I can dimly hear it drop to the floor. His hands moving to rest on my hips as his tongue worked with mine. I could taste the peppermint candies he often suck, and chews on. Peppermint keeps him alert (so he says), and he refuses to be caught off guard. Thatís our Squall. I slide my tongue against his one more time before I move to his throat.
I lick, nimble, and kiss the column of his neck without any second thoughts. Squall had titled his head, letting me do as I please, which I am promptly taking advantage. All reason has left. I want to fuck Squall. End of story. Not like Squall is helping me. He isnít offering any retaliation, but isnít fully joining in either. All I have received is admittance. However, I plan to change this very quickly if I can help it.
I let my hands glide down his arms, and rest on his hip bones. Then as I nip at his jugular causing him to give a shiver of what I believe to be desire, I push my hands up his shirt to feel the muscle quiver under my hands. I trail my fingers along his flesh, and rub the heel of my hands on his erect nipples. As I press myself closer, I can feel his start of an erection. My own contacting it, causing a groan to slip from his lips.
At the groan, I realize that he is as far gone from reason as I am. Nothing matters other than our bodies that our begging for release. It doesnít matter who we are, or who weíll be later. We know who we are, and on my part I want it, but the consequences of our actions are forgotten. What this is going to do to us, doesnít matter. Us, two men, who usually think to work these things out, are living for the moment.
I then grip the hem of his black tank top, and rip it off his body. It is then I wish we had light. Iíd like to see his firm chest. I like to see the wanton look in his eyes. I like to see the blush on his cheeks, but there is no light, so I let my fingers see what I cannot with my eyes.
His skin is fairly smooth with the exception of the occasional bump, which I know is a scar from his various battles. My fingers are caressing his warm, soft skin, but hard muscles as his callused fingers unbutton my shirt, which he then rips off my body, and pulls off my thin wifebeater as I remove my hands from his body to aid him in removing it. I didnít need him tearing it in his haste.
It then our sweaty chests met, and I can feel the cold pendant of Griever around his neck that is sandwiched between us. He wraps his arms around my neck, and pulls me to his body. I canít help, but moan in ecstasy. I can feel the coolness of his leather gloves on my body (which is causing me to become more aroused). I can also feel both of our hearts beating like mad as we share another passionate kiss. I brush his messy hair from his face as he removes my hair tie. I can feel my hair flutter around my shoulders. A curtain as his fingers comb through them. I let him do that as my hand trails down his chest, and gently squeeze his obvious erection. He moans into my lips, and grips my shoulder, wanting and waiting. I give it to him.
I start to unbuckle his three belts, but instantly have to trouble since I canít see. His hands leave my shoulders, and reaches down to undo them himself, his breath puffing against my lips as they just barely touch. I hear the clunk of the three buckles hitting the floor, and I then hear the snap of his buckle. Then the hiss of a zipper. This is when I realized he wasnít wearing any sort of briefs, or boxers.
My hand instantly comes in contact with his hot organ. I tease him a little by letting the pad of my index finger stroke the under side of his shaft as his fingers bite the flesh of my hips. His breath hitches. I know he is waiting, and quite patiently I might add, but I donít fully grip him yet. My fingers then trail along the upper side as his finger bruise my skin. He refuses to moan, or give in just yet.
Thereís the moan I was looking for. I have finally gripped his organ, which I am sure itís dripping for release. I know my is, and it hasnít even been released from his confinements. I slowly start to pump, and I feel his body clench, not to thrust into my hand. I guess it would show some sort of submission, and Squall didnít want to fully submit yet. Mind you, I would gladly submit to him, if it would make him feel better.
I stroke him harder, and harder as he comes closer to release. I let my lips glide across his shoulders as he comes closer to his release. I can taste the salty residue of his sweat. I smile against his skin as he groans. It is then he burries his mouth at my neck, gasping as his release splatter onto my hand. I feel him relax after coming, and I reach with my other hand to undo my own pants while my hand that is covered in his essence moves to his heat.
He gasps again as one finger penetrates him. I move out from in front of him, and swing around behind him. I let another finger join the first as he now leans against the side of the elevator. His fists clenched, and breathing deeply as I join a third, stretching him not all that gently. I know Squall likes pain, and he wants to feel it. I can hear his comment now, ďIím not fucking glass! Fuck me, asshole!í Squall is demanding when he wants to be.
I remove my fingers from him as he stands, leaning against the glass side of the elevator, his legs parted slight as he pants for breaths. I use the rest of his sperm to coat my own erection before entering him.
God! Thatís the only thing that comes to mind as I gasp in pleasure. His tight, and hot. My body is pressed to his as I grip his hips, fully inside of him. This is like nothing I have felt before. It's mind boggling, and I almost come there. I can feel his body shuddering, and quivering under mine. It is then I canít resist anymore as I thrust into him.
Together we move. I know he is pumping his own new erection, and this causes me to thrust harder at the thought. God, I wish I could see it. That would be a mind fuck on its own. Watching Mr. Frosty himself jacking off. I can feel the sweat dripping down my face, and body as his body clutches around me. I groan, and thrust a few more times before I join him in his throws of ecstasy.
I collapsed for a few moments onto him, as we pant in the boiling hot cramped space. I donít want to, but I pull out of him gently. With my last bit of energy, I reach down, and pull up my pants, buckling them up. Squall is still leaning against the wall. I know we both need a shower, and Iím sticky, but there is no way to clean up. I reach over, and pull up his own pants, doing them up. He offers no resistance, or any comment.
I flop onto the floor on the other side, finding my shirt, and throwing it on after whipping myself down with my wifebeater. I can hear the rustle of Squall putting on his on shirt, and buckling up his belts. I hear him sink to the floor to rest on the other side as I continue to do up my buttons. When Iím finished, I throw him my wifebeater to clean up our mess. I hear him whipping himself, hands, and the wall down. I find my hat, and put it on. Still no words are shared. This is when what just happened fully sets in.
Okay. Iím confused, and Iím starting to feel a little panic. I acted with haste, and anger. Now here I am, in an elevator which I just had sex with my commander. I canít see him, but I know heís as bad as I am. We are both still panting, and still offer no comfort, or words. We are like strangers.
Iím not sure what is going on in his head. Christ! Iím not sure what to think myself. Instead of glowing, Iím trying to figure out what to say, or do. Unlike my other lays, I couldnít just get up, and leave. There still wasnít cuddling, but Squall was a friend. He deserved something. This was a huge mistake.
I had just fucked the brains out of one of my best friends! Wait! What the hell was I thinking? Nothing would ever be the same again. For once I had what I wanted, but now . . . now I was lost, and I think Squall was too. Suddenly the consequences of what we just did were settling in. I still like Squall, and I still desire him, even though my lust had been satisfied for now, but how the hell were we going to be friends now? It seemed our friendship had gone from trembling to shattered in a matter of an hour. Hour of bliss, but ending up in a disaster.
I can hear Squallís deep breathes. I know heís trying to figure out what to do next. I know he wants to say something, just like I do, but what can we say? Sorry? I hate to say it, but Iím not completely sorry. I regret the circumstances, but Iím not sorry.
Suddenly, causing us to both jump, the power snaps on. The elevator moves again, and we both stand up. Avoiding looking at each other as we wait to come to the first floor. I want to look at him, but I canít. He canít look at me either. I know now that our friendship is over. I know that we will never speak of this. It is a command that neither of us dare to question. I also know that we will never forget either.
ďAre you all right? It took longer that we thought to repair the electricity, but they hurried when the heard you were in the elevator.Ē Quistis said, looking even more frazzled as we both stepped. I stayed at least 3 footfalls behind Squall. He still wouldnít acknowledge me. Itís now I realize that we havenít said anything to each other since after the first kiss I gave him. There was nothing else.
ďWe are fine, Quistis. How about everyone else?Ē Squall asked, touching her shoulder in reassurance. His voice careful. He doesnít want to betray any of our activities in the elevator, but wants to comfort her. He can hear her strain too.
ďGood. You look sweaty. You too, Irvine. I guess it was hot in there, being a small space. I think itís best we go to bed, and you two should have a shower.Ē Quistis sighed as she started to walk away. Squall followed, nodding. I donít move, and can hear their small talk as they walk away. Itís a while before I move.
I know now, and I will always know. I canít have Squall. Not that I can ever own a person, but I canít be with him like we were barely 15 minutes before. Thatís something that we can never share. He doesnít know the real me, and I donít know the real him. To be honest, he is the one I know the least. Even as children, we avoided each other. He was intriguing then, and still is to me, but I canít fulfill him, or even remotely understand him like Seifer, or Quistis can.
I can still feel the bitter jealously of the thought of Squall and Seifer together. They do seem to belong together. Each is the other half of the puzzle. Seifer is the only one that truly understands Squall. Quistis understands Squall to a degree, but he mostly just confines himself with her. Seifer knows Squall because Squall is a part of him. He knows Squall probably better that he knows himself.
I sigh, and run a hand through my hair. Our little elevator music was fun( I like that name, elevator music), but it wasnít meant to be, let alone ever really happen. It hurts, but itís the truth. I canít be with Squall sexually, and now it going to be hard any other way. I do hope he finds happiness. Maybe should return to my old ways. I would be fulfilling my reputation, no?
I give a weak smile as I look at the elevator. It would always hold memories for me. Good ones that I will cherish, but that all they are, memories. For Squall, I donít know. Then again, maybe I donít want to know. Probably a lot safer.
I sighed as I stroke my forehead. I need a shower, and a good nightís rest. Tomorrow I have a mission, and after that, maybe a vacation. I donít think Squall and I are going to stand being in the same room for a while. Unlike popular belief, I canít just shove these things away like they donít matter. What is it? Fuck and forget. Iíll tell you something I havenít forgotten one of my partners. I remember everything. Etched in my memory, and there is many. Strangely, Squallís is etched deeper. Not only in my memory, but my heart. I only hope we can be friends again. I do care for him. I think I maybe in love with him. Iím not sure, but donít want to know because it will just hurt more. Time to brush it off like the Irvine Kinneas everyone sees. Walk it off. Careless, laidback, mellow, and flirtatious Irvine to walk on. Tip the hat, wink, smile, and strut!
Only if they knew.
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