Midlife Crisis

BY : darksquall
Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 515
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Midlife Crisis.

With thanks to all the usual suspects. Race, Rain, Astraea, DG and K
Disclaimer: the characters and places contained herein are not mine and I make no claim to them. I am not making any money from this.

I don’t know why I was up at two am when I had meetings scheduled pretty much the entire day. I don’t know why I decided to stretch my legs but I did.

I pulled on my robe, and slipped out of my rooms, heading for the stairs. The robe barely reached my mid thigh, I’m taller than most and I always have trouble finding clothes to fit me, but I just couldn’t be bothered finding some pants when I knew there’d be no one in the corridors. I had a vague idea that I’d like to go to the big balcony a little way along from Laguna’s office. The floor below the one my rooms are on. The view is beautiful, especially at night. Esthar’s all lit up and the sky reflects the light when we have the cloak up.

There are three people in the world who can understand me completely, right first time. My best friends, Kiros Seagil and Laguna Loire, and Laguna's kid, Squall. I don't know why Squall can understand me. It's not like we've even known each other all that long, and he isn't really around me very much. We met at a couple of parties and briefly during the war before he came to stay for a week to get to know his father. He spent most of the time hiding in a bar with Kiros and me.

Don't get me wrong, Laguna's the nicest guy you could wish to meet. I love the old bastard, hair-brained schemes and all. He's just.... he can be too much. Especially to someone like Squall. He needs someone quiet and understanding not loud and bouncy like Laguna.

I turned the corner, to head along the corridor that lead the balcony and noticed the light was on in Laguna’s office. I half thought it was just Laguna working late, it had happened in the dim and distant past but… I pushed the door open to check.

Squall was curled up on the couch, looking halfway between pissed off and miserable and nursing what I know had been a full bottle of Galbadian whiskey the previous morning but was now hovering at three quarters empty, and with the way Squall was knocking back the glass he was working on, would soon be finished.

I knocked on the door to let him know I was watching. He looked up, bleary eyed and kind of surprised.

“Oh, Ward.”

I gave him a look which he had enough presence of mind to interpret correctly as “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I needed a drink.” He said sullenly, looking very young for a moment.

He shifted, dragging a hand through his hair and letting his head fall back against the sofa, exposing his pale neck. The hand that was wrapped around the now empty glass fell to his side, hanging over the arm.

Crossing the room, I sat on the sofa beside him and nudged his arm. He was still in his field gear, all leather and belts, pale skin peeking out from the shell he built himself. Finally he lifted his head to look at me and nodded to the bottle. “Want one?”

I shook my head and inclined it curiously. ‘What’s wrong?’

“Nothing.” He knew better than to think I’d believe that and that dawned on him when he saw the expression on my face. “Just… something back home.”


He looked at me sadly for a moment and sat up, putting the glass down. “You won’t tell my father?”

I shook my head and he slumped against me, one hand slipping onto my leg, his fingers just finding bare skin below the hem of the robe, purely accidentally of course. Enough to send a shiver down my spine and make my cock stir to life. Something about a pretty guy in leather gives me less self control than a teenager who’s just discovered he can wank. “I called my boyfriend to let him know I arrived safely and Seifer answered.”

Well… that wasn’t what I expected. He had said boyfriend, right? I wasn’t just hearing things?

He rubbed his face on my shoulder and sighed. “Didn’t even let the bed get cold. Bastard.”

I could smell his hair. I could smell him. Sharp, clean citrus, like grapefruit, an undercurrent of nutmeg... It was intoxicating and I could barely resist burying my face against his soft hair and breathing in his scent.

I challenge anyone, anyone straight or gay not to want to bend Squall over backwards and fuck him til he screams. He is beautiful. But he is my best friend's kid. Young enough to be my kid for Hyne's sake.

But I still wanted him.

If he got any closer, he was going to notice that I wanted him. I was hard already and the robe was doing little to cover it.

“So, I thought I’d have a drink.” He gestured a little wildly with his free hand and let it fall into my lap again. Making me wince as he brushed against my still covered cock.

I’ve never seen someone sober up so fast in my life. He sat bolt upright, turning to look at me, his eyes wide, his lips parting in a silent exclamation of surprise. I felt guilty almost instantly, thinking I’d effectively ruined whatever relationship we’d had just because I couldn’t control myself.

Then I noticed he hadn’t moved his hand.


He didn’t respond for a moment, looking confused, and maybe just a little curious. Enough to get my hopes up. Finally he settled back against the couch again and rubbed his knuckles in a slow circle against my erection, barely enough for me to feel it.

“Ward?” He asked softly, his voice so faint I could barely hear him.

I tipped my head to acknowledge the question and ask what he wanted, too busy trying to keep my eyes away from that pale hand with lean long fingers that would look so pretty wrapped around my cock.

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

That made me look up. Squall was watching me, his eyes clouded, the slate blue dark and inviting. Part of me screamed that he was just doing this because he was drunk and upset but…

“Ward, do you want to fuck me?” he asked again, a faint frown surfacing on his lips, his eyebrows drawing together and making his scar pucker faintly.

I nodded, glad for once I wasn’t able to talk because there was no chance in hell I’d be able to get more than a squeak past the nervous lump in my throat. Lifting my hand to his cool cheek, I drew my thumb over his lips slowly, barely able to believe that he was allowing me of all people to do this. He kissed the digit and nuzzled into the touch of my palm like a willing pet, and I could almost imagine him purring in pleasure. He closed his eyes for a moment, the dark lashes trembling on his fair skin, and kissed me.

His lips tasted of good whiskey, hot and more intoxicating on his tongue than I’d ever tasted from a glass or a bottle. Sliding my arm around his waist I pulled him closer, longing to press my body against his, filling his mouth with my tongue. If Laguna caught me, he’d kill me. If it had been anyone but Squall he’d probably have ignored it but this is his kid.

With a muffled thump, the bottle that he’d been nursing finally fell to the floor making us both start and pull away from each other.

“We… we should move.” Squall said breathlessly. I nodded my agreement and motioned for him to lead the way. “Your room?”

Again I nodded.

Fortunately the corridors of the Estharian presidential palace are all but deserted at two am on a week night. Especially fortunate since the guards would have appreciated our stolen kisses and gropes along the way as little as Laguna.

We made it to my rooms without incident.

He pressed against me, face upturned, his expression faintly longing, perhaps even a little eager. He’s so hard to read, not like his father. His fingers brushed my cock between the folds of my robe.

I made him stand still as I undressed him, peeling back the leather and cloth carefully, caressing everywhere but where he wanted me to, watching his reactions. The shudder of his limbs, the tremble of his voice, the blush that rose to his pale flesh as I pinched it gently. Everything was a symphony of sensuality, and all of it natural. He wasn’t even trying to be sexy for me, it just happened.

“Take your robe off?” He implored, his voice a little husky with the intensity of his need.

I nodded and stepped back to let it fall to the ground with a whisper.

I would not say I was well hung, despite what I’ve been told. But I am seven feet tall, and in proportion, and as such… I guess I was a little larger than Squall was used to because he couldn’t take his eyes off it for a moment. I wasn’t quite sure if he was scared or just curious but he didn’t grab his clothes and run which I took as a good sign.

He is almost a foot and a half shorter than I am. I could probably pick him up with one hand.

The cool touch of his skin on mine was nothing short of amazing. I couldn’t resist holding him for a moment before ushering him back to the bed. I was going to regret this in the morning, probably almost as much as he was, but I wanted to enjoy it while I could.

Squall crawled back onto the bed, his movements growing more sluggish and tired. The alcohol catching up with him I guessed. He never took his eyes off me for more than a second, his gaze flitting from my eyes to my mouth to my cock.

“Fuck me. Please.” He spread his legs, his fingers teasing his opening for my visual pleasure.

Pausing long enough to fetch a bottle of lubricant, I crawled over him and slicked my fingers, kissing him to distract him.

I pushed a finger into Squall slowly, watching his eyes flicker closed, his lips open in a silent moan. He was breathtaking. He rolled his hips slowly, rocking onto the invasive touch and encouraging me to do more. I rocked the finger deep before withdrawing it completely, and pushing two into him this time.

“Fuck… Ward…” he whispered, biting his lip and arching up, his body forming the most beautiful arc for a moment before he fell back down onto the bed, impaling himself on my fingers and spreading his legs, eager for more.

Rocking them into him hard and fast, I enjoyed watching him squirm in pleasure. His voice was so soft and husky, his lips barely parting as he begged me for more, over and over and over.

When his fingers found and closed around my cock, I almost came on the spot.

“Please…” He asked, his free hand fumbling towards mine for the bottle of lubricant. I let him have it, let him slick my cock tenderly as I held my fingers still inside him.

Finally, he released me, and I slid between his legs, rubbing the head of my cock against his opening. He looked so small, so vulnerable, watching me, eager to be filled, to be taken. He rolled his hips up in an effort to push onto me, and finally I sheathed myself in him slowly.

He felt so hot and tight around me, his body rippling around my cock. I wanted to fuck him, to use him, hold him down and make him scream, but I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt him like that. Slipping an arm under him and cradling him against my body, I began to thrust into him slowly, filling him a little more each time until I was sheathed completely in his heat. His soft moans caressed my ears, more intoxicating than good whiskey, more delicious than anything my senses had ever sampled.

“Warrrrd….” Squall’s voice was a positive purr, distractingly pretty. “I… mmmm’….not made of glass… Fuck me.”

I let him feel one sharp thrust first, to see if he could take it. He arched against me with a breathless cry of pleasure, his body tightening and shuddering around my cock wonderfully tight.

“Yes!” He panted, his fingers kneading at my back.

He looked so fragile and yet… he could probably take on a battalion of Estharian soldiers single handed. The junctions I realised, for strength, for endurance, and whatever else he’d got switched on in his head at that moment, probably meant I could do whatever I wanted without doing any permanent damage.

I cupped his cheek as I fucked him slowly and firmly, and almost came when he turned his head to take two of my fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking at them, muffling his moans and making me move faster. I buried myself inside him as deep as I could as he rolled his hips up to meet me eagerly. I groaned as loudly as my wounded throat would allow.

I was fucking an Eighteen year old. Is this my mid life crisis? Feels better than I thought it would.

Pulling my fingers away I kissed him roughly, filling his mouth with my tongue as I bucked into him as hard as I dared. The pleasure blurred time, and what could have been minutes, what could have been hours later, he cried out, writhing against the tight press of my body. I came, shaking with the force of my orgasm, heart beats after I felt the hot, sticky rush of his release against my stomach.

When I’d stopped trembling, I pulled away from him and collapsed at his side.

He watched me, his eyelids heavy with sleep and satisfaction, his cheeks faintly flushed. I half expected him to roll over away from me and fall asleep, but he cuddled up against me, tucking his head under my chin.

I slid my arm around him allowing myself, for a moment at least, to enjoy the feeling of someone’s body pressed against my own. His breathing fell into an even rhythm, his body relaxing against my own, and I followed him into the embrace of sleep.

The sound of knocking at the door seemed louder than a jack hammer to his pounding headache. Squall opened his eyes slowly, wincing briefly at the brightness of the light streaming in from the window, wanting to bury down under the covers until he could remember where the aspirin or the potions were.

“I’m up already.” He murmured, too soft for the person at the door to hear but unwilling to attempt to speak louder, his throat and mouth dryer than the desert that surrounded the D District prison.

Ward shifted finally beside him, awakening the memory of the previous night, being filled more completely than ever before.

Ward’s eyes opened, and he kissed the top of Squall’s head briefly, retrieving his arm so he could sit up.

Squall dragged a hand through his hair and sat up as the person who’d been knocking finally gave up and opened the door.

Laguna stepped inside, looking a little haggard, and asking “Ward, have you seen Sq…..” His voice trailed off to nothing at the sight of his son naked in bed with his best friend. “oh…. Excuse me.” He backed out of the room quickly, shutting the door before Squall’s voice could form the “dad” he was fumbling for.

All too briefly, the shame and anguish surfaced on Squall’s face before being hidden again. Ward cupped his cheek to make Squall look at him. ‘I’ll go after him.’

He rolled out of bed, grabbing his robe and heading after Laguna.

When he returned to his room, having talked to his friend, he found Squall gone, the bed made and a simple note in neat, precise hand writing.


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