Public Display

BY : Kashvala
Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 459
Disclaimer: I do not own FFVIII, I do not make money off this story.

Public Display
Delta Immortal
Disclaimer: I don’t own FFVIII. If I did, there would be a whole lot more sexual tension.
Pairings: Seifer/Zell
A/N: I’m not even gunna bother with the warnings. This is my first fic for Adult I dunno why I didn’t put stuff up here sooner, but here it is. Thanks to Silverstargirl for inspiring me to join aff. This seems to be a little shaky, so please bare with me as I try to work out kinks and such.
Seifer growled inwardly to himself, trying to listen for the culprit behind the non-fiction books of the different languages. Currently his ear was next to “Learn Shumi Fluently!” as he strained to hear what he was hoping for: some panting, quick-drawn breath or some moan or even a whisper of a name. Anything to prove that the tipster who had called the Disciplinary Committee at three was right in calling and he didn’t have to do a number check to see which asshole had dragged him out of bed in the middle of the night. Seifer didn’t think he’d be able to keep heads from rolling if the tip was a lie.

It was the next big thing, Seifer remembered, to masturbate in public places. Rumors had been set: beating off in the open gave you such a rush it was better than drugs, and every man's man should do it. It was a thrill, one that couldn’t be quelled and more importantly, it unforgettable. All it really meant for Seifer was that it would be one of his least favorite rumors simply because he was going to catch a lot of guys in the act, and that was going to be disgusting. Besides, most guys at Garden were pansies and wouldn’t really jerk it in the day; they’d save it for nighttime, which rather defeated the purpose, Seifer told himself.

What made the job really sucky was that he was alone. Raijin had gotten up about ten minutes earlier for a call about a couple in the secret area, and Fuujin was still waiting for any other call that might be happening. Neither of them would be here to help.

A sharp inhale of breath caught Seifer’s ear, and he grinned. Caught you, he thought to himself, mentally picturing where the person would be: the romance section. Most appropriate. The gunbladist moved quickly to the bookshelf, his heart racing. He was going to catch one of these damned people. If all went well, the person would be banished from Garden and the rumor would die with him. Seifer smirked. Caught in my trap, he mused. Everything was perfect in this moment, this moment in which Seifer held all the power and he was the only one who held the power.

As he took a step he was rewarded with the sight he’d partially been fearing fearing but a sound he had been hoping for. “Seifer,” came the murmur, and he grinned. This was going to be wonderful. The cadet was laying feet towards Seifer’s majestic self, his body arched and his hands on his cock. Seifer peered closer. The criminal had blonde hair and murmured again into the empty library. As the cadet arched into his hand, Seifer tried to repress a snicker. He knew exactly who was before him. The gunbladist waited, listening to panting and moaning and watched as the idiot grew closer and closer to his edge, all the while panting Seifer’s beautiful name.

It would make the downfall so sweet, Seifer mused.

After a particularly hard stroke had caused the boy to cry out, Seifer decided he must be a few strokes away and spoke. “Chicken-wuss,” he started. That was all he needed for a reaction- at once the stupid blonde’s body froze and even his cock deflated a little. The martial artist sat up, his eyes wide with shock and his face flushed, his hair in strands in front of his face. It was a picture that made Seifer stir.

How odd, Seifer thought in that moment of Dincht staring at him, that the Chicken-wuss looked edible. Never in all his years had he ever thought of even touching the chicken, but with his uniform like that, with his face holding shame and that shade of red, and with the novel “A Night to Remember” in his line of vision he wanted more than anything to sample the blonde below him. He knew this sight would affect his dreams, and all he could hope was that his judgment would not be affected.

“Seifer,” Zell uttered, unable to really move at that point. Shame filled his face, turning his cheeks a slight pinkish color.

“Silly Chicken,” Seifer stated. “The whole idea of that rumor was ‘get your rocks off in public’, wasn’t it?”

Zell swallowed, and Seifer pulled up a chair. “Well, Chicken-wuss, now you’ve been caught.” His eyes narrowed as Zell shifted. “Keep going.”

“No way,” Zell replied automatically, though his member wasn’t going down any more than it had despite what he was trying to tell it, so he attempted zipping up his pants and managed to succeed, though the pants were now painfully tight. “That’s sexual harassment.” He glared at Seifer, but the gunblader wasn’t phased. Inwardly, Zell winced. That was never good. It usually meant Seifer had won.

“So is public exhibitionism,” Seifer replied evenly.

“Exhi-what?” Zell asked, almost snarling. He hit the ground with his fist, standing up to try an intimidate the D.C. member.

Seifer kept his smirk. “Exposing Little Chicken there in a public place. That’s illegal, Chicken. I could get you kicked out of Garden for that.” He watched as Zell’s face turned to horror at the realization. Pleased at the situation, he kept talking. “What’s fun is that you didn’t even get this whole idea right. You touch yourself with people around. Chicken, you fucked up the rumor and now I can send you home forever with that.”

The martial artist actually fell to sit down, his fight leaving him, and Seifer’s smirk grew wider as Zell began to piece out what was happening. “What will it take t’ keep you silent?” Zell asked quietly.

The D.C. leader chuckled. “Well, Chicken, I do feel embarrassed for you. I understand what it’s like to fuck up something so simple. Oh, wait, I don’t,” he hissed. “But I did hear you calling my name, so at least I know you fantasize right.” He grinned and resisted the urge to let the pressure out of his pants as Zell’s face grew even redder with shame. It was almost beautiful, he admitted. Maybe if it hadn't been Chicken it would have been beautiful. Maybe it was the absence of the Hyne-damned crest.

“Keep doing what you were doing,” Seifer continued. “The whole idea is to have someone watch. I’ll stay here so you can see me watching you.” He waited until Zell gave in, lying back down on the ground with… were those tears? in his eyes, unzipping his pants again and touching his member. He stroked it once, biting his lip and slamming his eyes shut.

“Dincht,” Seifer encouraged, “Enjoy yourself. I don’t want you to have blue balls forever. Hyne knows that’s annoying enough as it is.” The D.C. leader watched eagerly, then, as Zell stroked himself again, this time shuddering as what had before been pre-come acted as a sort of lubricant, making the stroking easier than expected. It wasn’t long before Zell’s breathing became a little more ragged than usual, before Seifer could see his chest moving up and down and his hips starting to sway. No sound emerged from his throat, though, which was a disappointment.

Even though Zell was erect now, and a quivering mass of flesh on the ground, nothing really seemed to be happening. It was fun to watch, to be sure, but Zell seemed determined not to give him any other sort of show. For a while, the clock made more of a sound than either of them, even with Zell’s slight muffles or the shlick, shlick sound that Zell’s hands made while touching his member. Anxiety crept at them both as neither wanted to loose to the other. Seifer realized that in the battle of silence he wasn’t loosing or winning, and stalemates weren’t useful to him at all. Leaning forward, he was about to open his mouth to speak.

“Touch me,” Zell blurted out suddenly. “I can’t stand you sittin’ there, watchin’ me like I’m some sort of candy or somethin’.” His eyes were still closed.

“No can do, Chicken,” Seifer growled, his voice low and dripping with arousal. Zell involuntarily jerked at the sound of it washing over him like a wave. “I’m the leader of the Disciplinary Committee. If I touch you, it throws everything out of proportion. I didn’t stumble upon you here, you see, if I don’t touch you.” The boy was so simple sometimes, Seifer thought. He’d always been able to get a reaction out of the Chicken, but this reaction he liked best of all. It was too bad he’d still tell on the Chicken, but it was for Dincht’s own good. Chicken was too much of a pushover to stay. Look at him there, he told himself, stroking himself because I told him to.

“Seifer,” Zell uttered, pre-come dribbling down his member. Seifer blinked, watching the back arch, watching the hips move up.

“Come for me, Dincht,” Seifer uttered. “I think I’ll call your name out myself, tonight.”

That was it. Those words echoed around in Zell’s head until they were like invisible hands gripping him and taking him over the edge. All the waves of heat he’d worked so hard to keep at bay rushed forward, and he spilled into the dead of night, into the empty library, in front of his worst enemy. He shook with shame. Even his clothes were stained somewhat now.

It was a while but he sat up again, this time noting the giant arousal in Seifer’s pants. To keep Seifer from seeing his tears, he hid his face with his hands as he spoke. “Well, then?”

The gunblader took a second before he scowled. “I don’t know. That wasn’t near as impressive as I’d hoped… but it wasn’t your equipment that was the problem. Maybe your technique. Anyway, Dincht, it’s been fun knowing you but you should pack.”

Zell’s embarrassment turned to anger in a split second. “What?” he hissed, jumping up off the floor forgetting his pants were still open. “I’ll kill you.”

“Sure you will,” Seifer replied, standing up himself. “You’re such a wuss, Chicken.”

Neither of them were expecting what Zell did next. He charged at Seifer, tacking the taller, older boy and threw him to the floor. He swung a punch at him but Seifer managed to miss (narrowly) and used Zell’s recovery to roll over, placing himself on top of Zell. Seeing the anger in his eyes, compared with everything else, he couldn’t help himself and lost any validity of the D.C. argument that he had given Zell just a few minutes ago.

He bent down and pressed their mouths together. Zell didn’t want to respond at first, and it took some nibbling at his lip along with the tight grip of fingers on his ass to change his muffled shrieks of outrage to moans of pleasure. Seifer’s arousal burned into him and woke his own up again, their hips pistoning against one another as Zell wrapped every limb around Seifer, trying to bring him closer.

It didn’t feel like the romance novels next to them, Seifer remembered. It felt messy and dirty and good. This entire display was wrong in every way possible: as a student, as a D.C. member, as a man, as a bully. He had a hard-on for Dincht and Dincht kept making himself more and more appealing to it.

Finally, Zell broke away. “Seifer,” he whispered and the bully responded by leaning over his victim’s ear, nibbling on it before whispering, “What?” Zell squirmed underneath them, deliciously squealing.

“If I’m leaving then I’m dragging you down with me, you asshole.” Some sort of offer?

Only a few seconds ago had Seifer been calling Zell a wuss, when it seemed Zell really did possess a fierce mind of a man. Still, Seifer decided, Dincht was far to open about that sort of thing, and if anything it meant the chicken was taking charge and if there was one thing Seifer didn’t like it was not being in charge. Ironically, as he looked back he realized that this whole situation he wasn’t in charge; it had just appeared and whipped him around a bit.

Once again, Zell surprised them both by flipping Seifer over and pausing for a moment before opening Seifer’s pants and holding the erection he found there. Seifer’s trench coat was tightly wrapped around him, binding his arms most unfortunately and he only glared at Zell as Zell stared straight at him. The martial artist locked their gazes as he stroked Seifer’s erection, watching Seifer’s eyes close. “Come for me,” Zell mimicked, and Seifer’s eyes shot open, glaring him. It was slightly arousing, the way the predatory glare ate at him before the inevitable happened.

That had been too much. Suddenly Zell was pinned on the ground and Seifer was growling into his ear. “Keep that up and I’ll fucking tie you down and fuck your ass until you bleed,” Seifer promised. When Dincht nodded he sat up. “God knows you’re too short to do this any other way,” he began, “So suck me off. Keep as low to the ground as possible, Dincht, because I want to see your pretty little face.”

Zell’s eyes flickered at the word “pretty” but he did as he was told, licking the tip of Seifer’s member before gently placing it in his mouth.

Surprisingly, Seifer didn’t have to mention to Zell that he was not to be bitten. The chicken was almost too eager to taste him, almost too eager to suck on his length. The work was obviously being enjoyed as Zell’s lids fluttered closed and Seifer held back a gasp.

Dincht had spoken true. He was going down with the Chicken and he really hadn’t thought it possible. Placing his hands in Dincht’s hair, he tightened the grip on them even though he had no reason to be so tight. Dincht pretended not to notice, and so the gunblader tightened his hands even tighter, until the chicken’s face showed some sort of pain.

It didn’t work. Seifer still watched Zell’s face with some sort of awe, some sort of hellish affection. The boy was good. Seifer didn’t even wonder if he had practiced, it was rather obvious. Why was he so readily slipping Seifer’s member into his mouth? Did he actually think Seifer would not turn him in if it was a good blowjob, or did he… actually hold some affection for him? He had been calling Seifer’s name out, after all.

Dincht confused him. Everyday Dincht got his ticket, like everyone else and everyday he’d try and outwit Seifer, but it failed.

The thoughts would have continued on, but at that moment Seifer was aware of his climax approaching, and that took priority. “Let me come on your face, Chicken.”

Zell only pulled back, saliva and pre-come still attached to his mouth and forming delicious strings to Seifer’s member, and the sight was enough to set him off. White liquid exploded onto Zell’s face, the sight enough to get Seifer burning again. As he came he realized Dincht had dragged him down farther than sin; he’d dragged him down in this whole sexual obsession of his. There was an itch for Dincht that he couldn’t scratch while in Garden now, there was an itch for the blonde to be tied to the bed and hissing and crying and fighting him all the way as he entered chicken’s ass; he wanted Zell like none other in this moment. Poor little chicken, though, he noted, didn’t realize any of it, just stared at him with wide eyes and a dirty face, waiting for the verdict.

Seifer didn’t want to give it to him. He wanted to keep Zell here, so they could keep doing this horrible things in the silence of the library. He grabbed Zell’s chin roughly, analyzing the face he found. Blue eyes. A tattoo. High cheeks, sharp canines.

Hyne, none of this was helping him. He wasn’t going to be able to control himself if he kept thinking these thoughts. Reaching into his coat, he handed Zell a handkerchief. “Go,” he uttered, watching Zell wipe his face and run out the door as fast as his legs could carry him. If he was running, he’d take the secondary staircase back to the dorms- not many people used it. Then he’d get off on the third floor, where his room was and rush back inside, closing the door as tight as he could.

Seifer leaned back, tucking himself in his pants.

Dincht was addictive. He hadn’t expected this.

A book fell off the shelf and landed on his leg before falling to the floor. “‘An Unexpected Encounter’,” he read. “‘Will Kevin ever find the one he met in the dead of the night again?’” The irony not lost on him, Seifer leaned his head back and chuckled. Perhaps these feelings would sort themselves out in the morning and disappear with the books he intended to never see again.

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