Disclaimer: the characters, places and other things herein do not belong to me and I am not making any money from this.

Warning: this fic contains masturbation, spanking, leather gloves and voyeurism.

With thanks to Astraea, Race, and Pix.

Squall's dorm had probably been tidy once. The bed still was, made as soon as he'd risen, corners folded with that military precision he displayed in all corners of his life save his wardrobe, his desk, and his handwriting. However, since he was now not only fucking Seifer, who's own room resembled an explosion in a clothing store at times, he had Irvine under his spell too, and wherever Irvine went, bits of gun and porn usually followed, the room was somewhat less than orderly.

Irvine eyed a particularly good DVD he'd bought for them to watch, where it had fallen, peeking out from under the TV stand. Hyne help Squall if his dad ever came to visit.

"Seifer, he'll kill us if he finds us here. Doing this."

"Don't be a wuss Kinneas. Don't you want to know what he was so bitchy about?" Seifer shot him a look of annoyance, arrogance buried under concern and worry and leaving the blonde looking worried. Around his eyes particularly, faint creases puckering the skin and making him seem older than his twenty years.

Irvine half shrugged. "I just think there are better ways of finding out." Squall had been in a bad mood ever since receiving a package from Laguna a week before. He'd tried asking Squall several times, but to no avail. Something had pissed him off so bad that not even he could wheedle it out of Squall.

Startled out of his reverie by a warm body rubbing against his ankles, Irvine almost jumped as Blizzaga, Squall's white cat butted his head against his leg. He picked up the blue eyed feline, scratching its ears gently. "Hey puss. Has your daddy told you what's wrong?"

"He'd hate you calling him that." Seifer ruffled through some papers on Squall's desk.

The cat purred, eyes closing in pleasure.

"You think you're the only one who likes teasing him Seif?"

"Guess not." Seifer muttered, making a triumphant noise as he came up with the package that had offended Squall so much. "Found it!"

"Well, what is it?"

The soft beeping of the access code being entered on the control panel of the lock outside breached the silence.

Two. Four. One. One. Two. Two. One. Two.

Irvine had learned why Squall had that code shortly after he'd found himself smack dab in the middle of their tumultuous but intense relationship. Squall could remember every insignificant little thing about weapons and battle tactics. He could tell you what size and type of screw threads were used on the tiny screws in Lion Heart's handle and why they were better than the ones he'd used way back in Revolver, something about a difference in pitch, and yet, the simple every day stuff like birthdays and anniversaries and stuff was like trying to grab hold of water. Just slipped away through his fingers. At least, in using their birthdays as his entry code, he would be sure to remember them.

By the time the second one was entered, Irvine had set Blizzaga back onto the bed and scrambled into Squall's closet. Seifer joined him quickly, stuffing the package back under the desk where he'd found it and brushing aside leather jackets and pants to make room for both of them.

"Now who's the wuss?" Irvine hissed softly.

"I'm not a wuss, I just want to get laid this week." Seifer smirked at him, the supercilious curve of his lips just visible in the crack of light from the door. "Besides, you ran in here first."

"Blizz." Squall clicked his tongue softly as he shut the door. The cat mewed, jumping off the bed and scampering to its owner.

Out of sight of his two concealed lovers, Squall eyed the increased disarray of his desk and bookshelf curiously. Carrying the cat to the kitchen and distracting it with food first, he headed for the bedroom, glancing around.

There was someone there. And by the understated spicy scent lingering in the air, a hot, fiery tang of cinnamon, it was Seifer. Or at least, someone with Seifer's taste in cologne. Below it, there was the faintest hint of the freshness of lime, the sweet tang a counterpoint to the raw fire of Seifer. Irvine was with him.

Squall shrugged off his jacket slowly, letting it rumple to the floor. No wonder he hadn't been able to find his lovers. They had been here the entire time.

He tossed his shirt to a nearby chair, not even glancing at the closet. They had to be there, he thought, the space under the bed was cluttered with boxes of files and old papers from his student days, and with a variety of boots, shoes and probably at least half a dozen of the sex toys Seifer had bought him and there was no where else big enough for two guys over six feet in height in his entire dorm.

Well. If they wanted to hide, he would make them squirm before he revealed that he knew they were there.

He watched himself in the mirror over his dresser. Pale, slender, attractive he supposed. His tastes lay more in the perfect, golden all over tan of Irvine's lean body and graceful limbs, and the gilded silk of Seifer's muscular build. With both of them he had the best of both worlds. His anger, and his comfort. Seifer's rough, raw emotion that dragged him out of his shell, forced him to feel. Irvine's gentle touch and compassion and hot kisses that coaxed him, beguiled him into loving him.

They were both sex incarnate. And he adored them both.

First one belt - leather shrouded fingers unfastening the buckle with experienced ease that neither lover could muster in the heat of lust - dropped to the floor. Then another, followed by his gloves. The last belt he lingered over, sliding a hand over the smooth, fair skin of his stomach and dipping his fingertips beneath the dark shield of his leather jeans slowly. He closed his eyes, imagining Irvine's hands on him, light calluses on his fingertips from trigger work, a soft palm and a touch so soothing it could almost make him weep. Squall grew hard swiftly.

Watching through the tiny crack in the door, struggling to see, Seifer bit his lip to still a whimper. Irvine slid a hand across his own sex, already straining in his jeans.

The final belt yielded, the black leather melting back to reveal his erection, whispering back from his legs and pooling down at his feet. He toed his boots off and gently kicked the material away as his fingers wrapped around his sex gently.

The secret thrill of being watched felt like liquid fire in his veins, and the touch sent a visible shiver through his body, prying a rough groan of pleasure from his throat already.

Squall crawled onto the bed, one hand still curled around his cock as he gave light, little tugs, the burning need for pleasure making his blood sing. Even as his fingertips played along his hard length his free hand rose to his mouth, brushing softly over his lips as Seifer would when he was preparing Squall.

Oh how he loved to be between them. Driven to distraction by their hands and mouths and cocks.

He rubbed his thumb over the already leaking head of his sex, spreading drops of precome languidly.

Irvine shuddered, longing to go help but knowing if he revealed their presence, Seifer would kick his ass and Squall would hate them for a week. At least. Seifer glanced at him, pure determination the only thing keeping him silent, and returned his eyes to Squall, enchanted by the sight.

Squall lay back on the bed, spreading his legs as he sucked on his index finger, his other hand still attending the needs of his throbbing cock.

The wet finger teased the pucker of his opening, pushing in gently. His hand faltered on his cock and he moaned huskily, the curl of his finger inside him brushing over that spot that made him see stars.

He squeezed his fingers around his length just as his body tightened around the intrusion his finger offered.

Squall thrust into the tight tunnel of his hand, his eyes still closed, his teeth worrying at his lower lip. Half wishing it was Irvine's body he was thrusting into, that Seifer was inside him, he allowed himself to whimper their names in turn.

Irvine made a soft, breathless noise of lust.

The corners of Squalls mouth turned up ever so slightly, too faint for them to notice from the other side of the room.

The finger slid free of his body gently, his hand fisting in the blankets beside him, his body arching up gracefully as he allowed the pleasure to consume him. He was dizzy with the intensity of it, his heart pounding in his ears enough to deafen him to any further sounds his hidden lovers made.

Like ice running through his veins, like a gunblade's strike, the whole world had condensed to a single point in only a moment, the ecstasy crashing through his body with more violence than a guardian force's attack.

Squall's hips bucked into his hand, desperate for more even as his seed spilled over his fingertips and surged across his bare belly. A cry of pleasure, wordless, guttural, rapturous echoed from his throat, his lips parted and swollen as he panted in ecstasy. His free hand grasped the pillow, as he tossed his head from side to side, aftershocks of bliss trickling through his body even as his sex softened, and he whispered his lover's names in turn.

The struggle to see and remain hidden was brought to an abrupt and immediate halt as the box Seifer was standing on gave way and he tumbled out of the closet, collapsing in a crumpled heap at the foot of Squall's bed, dragging Irvine with him. The cowboy landed squarely in his lap and ruined any chances Seifer had of being a father in the next few days, drawing out a faintly strangled cry of pain from the blonde.

Irvine cursed and scrambled off Seifer's lap, slipping and dropping back into his lap and coaxing another weak groan of pain from him before the cowboy finally managed to get out of the way.

Tossing his nutmeg locks out of his eyes, Squall murmured "You deserved that."

"Bitch." Seifer hissed through gritted teeth, his voice at least half an octave higher, hands clutched protectively over his poor, crushed sex. "You coulda told us."

Squall was leaning up on one elbow now, his hair mussed, dark strands hanging over his lust-darkened, slate grey eyes. The haunting eyes darted to the hovering cowboy, a faint smile manifesting on his lips slowly, curling them into the most mischievous look he'd seen Squall wear.

"Do you have a hi-potion?"

Irvine dug one of the vials of the potion from his long jacket pocket, tossing it to Squall.

The brunette caught it without even blinking. In his best Commander voice, he ordered "Take your clothes off Kinneas." A voice that did not entirely match the scene presented to them, of Squall rolling gracefully to all fours and crawling to the end of the bed. The hunger, the lust in his eyes almost made Seifer forget the throbbing pain in his sex.

Almost.

Irvine obeyed, shedding his clothes as quickly as he could manage, tossing his hat onto the chair with Squall's shirt. There was something about the curving line of Squall's ass, the ripple of muscle down his back that hypnotised him.

The Shumi had wanted to create a statue of Squall at the end of the war. Squall had flat out refused, not only would it prevent him from ever being able to go undercover again, but it would leave him feeling exposed. Vulnerable. Irvine hadn't understood that at the time but now he realised it had been a good thing, since not even the greatest artist in the world would be able to capture Squall for who he really was. Almost a living statue, sweetness and sex and leadership and quiet strength, wrapped in ice and bound in fur and leather. Not even photographs could do him justice, and most newspapers hadn't managed to get more than a fuzzy distant image of Squall Leonhart.

Not that he wouldn't at least try to do him justice. He'd have to bring his camera for one of their threesomes.

"Come here." Squall beckoned Irvine closer, slipping to the floor between Seifer's legs and prising his hands from his crotch. "Help me strip him."

"I'm really not in the mood Squall." Seifer grumbled the throbbing in his groin receding to a dull ache, no longer nauseatingly strong.

"For the first time since you were fifteen." Squall muttered, his tone almost teasing.

Irvine helped to drag Seifer's coat off his shoulders, trying to ignore the reminder that he was the newcomer here, that Squall and Seifer had years of history. Squall glanced up quickly enough to catch the look in his eyes and demand a kiss, soothing the fears and doubts to their usual dull ebb rather than the threatening roar.

They stripped Seifer's vest off him unceremoniously, but Squall lingered over his fly, easing it down and coaxing the sore length from its leather prison.

Seifer winced as Squall's cool fingertips stroked the length, leaning back against Irvine.

Squall uncapped the glowing potion, drinking a mouthful from the bottle and as he stretched out between Seifer's legs, took the half hard length into his mouth immediately. The potion tingled across the sensitive skin of Seifer's sex, being absorbed into him even as Squall's tongue rubbed along the underside.

He positively melted back into Irvine's strong arms as the pleasure rolled through him like a storm.

Squall, his lips faintly bruised but already healing from the hi-potion entering his system, looked up at them. "I want to suck Seifer's cock. While Irvine fucks me."

Casting a glance over his shoulder at Irvine, Seifer smirked. "We'll see. Get on the bed Leonhart."

With an adorable pout, Squall obeyed, crawling back onto the bed with just as sexy a wiggle as he'd displayed crawling off it.

Seifer stood, slipping out of his pants and boots but retaining his gloves, and settled on the bed beside Squall who had remained on all fours. Running the soft leather – worn thin and smooth by more than a year's daily use - of his glove over the sexy curve of the brunette's ass, he smirked at Irvine. "Come here Irvine. Sit in front of him."

Obeying Seifer's orders was already becoming second nature to the cowboy, his easy going smile firmly in place as he settled in front of Squall and cuddled back against the pillows. What a sight. Squall on his knees between Irvine's legs, his mouth a dark, hungry bruise, his lips faintly parted, his gaze flickering from Irvine's eyes to his achingly hard cock. And Seifer behind him, naked but for his choker and his gloves, and the wickedest smile that Irvine had seen him wear.

"So..." Squall glanced back at Seifer behind him. "Now what?"

"Now, You're gonna get Irvine nice and wet for you." Seifer snagged a bottle of lube from the bedside table and no sooner had Squall's lips touched the tip of Irvine's cock than the blonde bought his hand down in a resoundingly sharp slap on Squall's ass.

A soft cry of surprise and pleasure, muffled by the sex between his lips, echoed from Squall.

"Like that, Leonhart?" Seifer rubbed the blush that rose upon the pale flesh he'd struck gently, lifting his hand to strike him again in just the same place.

Squall moaned, swallowing as much of Irvine's cock as he could manage as the cowboy's fingers tangled in his soft hair. Rubbing the tip of his tongue along the underside of the length, cradling it in his mouth as gently as he could manage, he could already hear Irvine's whimpers of pleasure.

Two warm slick fingers slid into him gently, stretching him open, teasing his body and driving him to distraction. He was dimly aware of Seifer asking "Is it the spanking, or the leather that gets you off?" But he was too caught up in the pleasure the fingers evoked and the gentle pulsing of Irvine. The leather felt so good as it slid over his abused skin between laying more sharp strikes, one hand still working at stretching his body for what was to come.

"Seifer... hurry up." Irvine hissed, tugging gently on Squall's hair and writhing in place. He didn't want to come like this, he wanted to fuck Squall like he'd asked.

"Turn around Squall." Seifer coaxed, sliding his fingers free from the pale body and moving onto his knees.

Reluctantly, slowly, the brunette pulled away from Irvine and turned, presenting himself for Irvine's approval.

Irvine could resist for but a moment, sliding his hands over Squall's hips and pulling the lithe form into his lap. He sheathed himself quickly in the hot, slick grip of Squall's body, trembling weakly at the sensation.

"Don't move until I tell you 'vine." Seifer murmured, tipping Squall's head up and forcing the brunette to take the head of his cock into his mouth.

Squall panted around Seifer's sex, sucking and teasing the velvet skin.

Gently, leather clad fingers tangled tightly in Squall's hair and Seifer thrust shallowly into his mouth. The wet heat felt so good he could barely hold himself back from doing more, fucking the brunette's mouth as roughly as he would his ass. With a strangled cry of Squall's name on his lips, Seifer came quickly.

"Now..." The blonde panted. "Fuck him now."

Irvine almost growled as he bucked into Squall hard, fast, over and over, all the build up and watching and longing coming to a head and making him loose any shred of control he had left.

Tossing his head wildly, Squall cried out in pleasure. His voice quivered as Irvine's name spilled from his bruised lips, and the warm, slick leather of Seifer's glove gripped his cock, and worked him in a way that his lust clouded mind could only term expertly.

Squall came hard; his seed spilling over Seifer's gloved hand. Irvine ground into him intensely as he filled him, whispering Squall's name hoarsely.

He fell back into Irvine's lap, his whole body still shuddering with the force of his orgasm. Squall's fingers found and tangled with the slender, graceful digits of his Galbadian lover and squeezed.

Between them, they managed to clean themselves up with a wet washcloth Seifer grabbed from the bathroom, and crawl between the sheets. They kept Squall trapped between them, on his side, facing Irvine and Seifer pressed tight against his back.

"What's wrong Squall?" Irvine entreated softly as soon as he noticed the sad look in Squall's eyes, the heaviness of his heart almost tangible.

"Nothing." Squall responded in his usual whatever tone.

"What was in the package your dad sent?"

"Nothing." Squall repeated quietly.

"Liar. Tell us what's wrong Leonhart or I'll hold you down while Irvine goes and finds it." Seifer stirred, lifting his head to lean over and watch Squall more intently.

"...You wouldn't." slate grey eyes met the jade depths of Seifer's slowly. His lips curled down in a scowl of annoyance as he realised that yes, Seifer probably would.

"You want to try me?"

"It was ...just some old diaries. His and my mother's." Squall tried to sit up, but the tangle of his lover's limbs prevented him from moving. Forced to stay between the tight press of their bodies he hid his face against Irvine's neck.

"So why are you walking around like you lost your favourite belt?"

"Or like Seifer when he looses an argument." Irvine grinned at him.

"Don't make me spank you too, Kinneas." Seifer's voice dropped faintly and became just a little threatening.

"I'd like ta see you try."

"He knew where I was."

Irvine paused and looked down at Squall. His eyes were shut tight, one hand balled into a fist against his chest. "What darlin'?"

"He found out he had a son two months after I was born. He found out where I was when I was three. He knew where I was all that time, he even visited the orphanage, but he didn't take me with him because I reminded him of my mother." Squall sighed, opening his eyes and looking up at them.

After a long silence, Seifer frowned deeply and said "Good."

"What?" Squall's fisted hands tightened minutely, the frost already coming down over his eyes, his features loosing them all expression.

"If he'd taken you back to Esthar with him, you wouldn't be here now." Irvine kissed the scar on Squall's forehead. "And none of us would be happy."

"Just for the record, if I sock him, will I get arrested?" Seifer asked

"Probably." Irvine chuckled.

"I just... hoped I'd been wanted." Squall admitted softly.

"You have, Squall." Sliding his arms around both of his lovers, Seifer squeezed reassuringly.

"By both of us."

He closed his eyes, burrowed between the warmth of two bodies. Squall Leonhart loved them, worshipped them silently, and perhaps... for the first time in his life that he could remember... he not only felt wanted, but loved.

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