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Recovery	By : RabidPhilosopher Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male > Seifer/Squall Views: 1000 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII or any of the characters within. These are property of squaresoft and I make no money from this work

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Author’s Note:
First thing is first. I do not own Final Fantasy VIII nor any of the characters within it. They are owned by Squaresoft and their affiliates. I make no money from the work. My only payment is the pleasure I receive from writing it.
Thanks for reading everyone! I am going to attempt to set a deadline for myself and post at least a chapter a week. Hopefully this works out and I don’t come out with too many short chapters. And while on the subject of technical matters, if anyone is interested in being a beta let me know.
There is some smut in this chapter, though maybe not what you expected. ^_~ Enjoy!
Chapter 2
Seifer slept late into midday, being awoken by the sounds of banging from the other room. Groggily he rose, clothing slightly rumpled and hair disheveled he stumbled from the room. Looking about for the source of the pounding he noticed energetic knocking at his door. Running a hand through his hair he grumbled as he pulled it open. On the other side stood a sickeningly sweet Selphie, still in uniform, wearing a brightly colored party hat and holding up two bottles of champaign. "Congratulations!" she shouted, launching herself at the unsuspecting blond for a deadly hug.
"Selphie, I think that's enough; he's starting to turn blue," Quistis observed in a scolding tone, her smile betraying her happiness.
"Oh but he's so huggable!" she squealed, releasing the man after placing a similar hat atop his head. Seifer only stood, dumfounded, fighting the last remnants of sleep from his system.
"Congratulations Seifer," Quistis leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "And I know you know so don't bother." Her smile was still firmly in place as she moved past him, Zell following with an armful of bags and a quick, "Grats man," before plopping them down on the small kitchen table.
"Well come in why don't you," Seifer grumbled, glaring at the cowboy leaning in to kiss his cheek. "What are you doing Kinneas?"
"Just congratulating you proper," he purred in that soft drawl, walking by with a firm squeeze to the blonde's butt.
Seifer simply scowled and slammed the door, heading to the bathroom. He splashed water on his face to wake up, feeling much better for it. Looking in the mirror he recalled his dream, the laughing echoing inside as the burning pain pumped through his veins. He shuddered and splashed the water again, drying his face with a towel. Pulling his hair back into a short tail he emerged to the pouring of champaign, Zell and Irvine now sporting the same party hats. He went over to the couch and fell down upon it, the furniture protesting the rough treatment. Champaign was offered and he took it without a thought, sipping quietly and laying back. The others took seats around the room to enjoy the liquor and cheer.
"So," Selphie began, squeezing her way onto the couch with Seifer, "How does it feel to be a SEED?"
"Where's puberty boy?" He hadn't heard Selphie's question, feeling irritated that he hadn't seen Squall since the confusing morning. The anticipation of knowing if Squall liked the gloves was eating at him, until he reminded himself that he didn't care. After convincing himself that his inability to ignore the lack of one stoic brunette was just his eagerness to start a fight over this morning, Seifer felt better.
Quistis frowned at the question, Selphie following suit, though it was the Assistant Headmaster that spoke. "He's finishing up some work, said he took a long lunch and had to play catch up." She scoffed at the notion, none of them had ever heard of the man taking a long lunch. In fact, he usually ate at his desk, what little they could force him to eat.
"Hmm," Seifer offered noncommittally.
"But he promised he'd be here later!" Offered Selphie in a burst of speech and energy.
"What? I'm not enough eye candy for you?" The cowboy leered at him from across the room.
"Quit that wiggling or I'll kick your ass off," he growled at Selphie as she squirmed in her seat. She stilled for as long as possible before standing and joining Quistis on the other couch.
It was strange for them all to be this close. Seifer had always been a jerk at best, but it seemed the others had taken up the call for his defense after the incident. It was Squall's plan. Seifer had not been in control of himself during the entire ordeal. By making the fact as public as possible and surrounding him with the beloved saviors, the world had pretty much come to terms with his continued existence and now politely ignored him. Of course this made him question why they all hung around anyway. He wasn't particularly nice or personable, nor did he want attention or friends. Squall had been his last friend and he had fucked that up. Brief flashes of the brunette tied above while his hands held the controls. He shuddered, coming back to reality with a start. Irvine's eyes were on him, watching with curious concern at the blonde's brooding face. He gave a smile and a wink, coming to take Selphie's abandoned position at his feet. Draping himself over the man's legs he forcefully engaged him in conversation about his exam, forcing Seifer to stop that train of thought. Though he'd never admit it, he was grateful for the annoying bunch of heroes.
Four hours and six bottles of champaign later Selphie was sprawled across Quistis' and Irvine's laps while they tried to guess what Zell was acting out. The drunken charades was providing a welcome distraction from Rinoa’s endless chattering. She had shown up an hour ago with her own drinks, giggling madly at the guesses as she continued to try and catch up with everyone else in their liquor consumption. She had already surpassed the majority of them, but was still using the excuse. She was as stunning as ever, yet her personality just as unattractive as it had always been. Sure she was a great woman, loving and attentive, just not for him, nor any man with an adult intellect. It was during a particularly annoying rant about one of her classes that he heard the barely audible knock, as if the person on the other side wasn't actually seeking entry.
With a sigh of relief he rose, ignoring a protesting Rinoa, to answer the door. Momentarily shocked to find Squall on the other side, Seifer stood there for a moment, taking in the look of the man standing in the entry way. As patient as always Squall waited for him to respond, feeling giddy and embarrassed as eyes took him in. He had dressed down for the occasion, faded blue jeans riding low on slim hips. Many belts discarded for one. A soft gray sweater gave him a younger look, slightly too big the sleeves partially covered his hands.
The staring contest went on for a full minute before Squall raised his hand, offering a small package to the man. “Congratulations Private 1^st class Almasy.” Seifer did not miss the blush on the brunette’s face as he took the item, stepping aside for Squall to enter. He did; Seifer was amused to notice he wore the gloves. A pleased smile crept onto his face. Squall looked into the other room and sighed, the raucous laughter echoed in his sensitive ears.
He turned back to Seifer, eyeing him sternly. “The rank is just for formality’s sake. It’s the highest I could give you without raising suspicions since you just passed the exams. Though no doubt you’ll move up quickly.”
“Suspicions?” Seifer was only half listening, trying to remember the last time, if any, he had felt so wanted.
“Of favoritism.” He dismissed the question easily, entering the kitchen rather than the living room. Grabbing a glass of water he leaned against the counter, looking out into the other room he raised a brow at the sight of a tipsy Zell pirouetting across the room.
“Charades.” The blonde supplied, watching his Commander. Shaking his head Seifer set the package aside, pouring two glasses of the amber liquid he approached Squall in the small kitchen. “Here,” he offered, a foot away as he pressed the glass into Squall’s hand.
He could feel his stomach tighten, every muscle tense as his rival approached. Forcing himself to remain still and blank Squall tried to calm his body. The feeling of the cool glass against his skin helped anchor him to reality. He turned, the blond was too close. He took the glass slowly, eyes locking onto Seifer’s.
Seifer raised his in a silent toast, taking a sip before stepping back, leaning against the opposite counter to stare at Squall. He had noticed the man tense, flinching inwardly, hating himself for what he’d done. Of course Squall would get tense around him, he thought. Waiting to protect himself in case the insane Knight attacked. At the thought he turned away bitterly. Leaving the kitchen in a foul mood he stopped at the entryway. “Join us if you’d like.”
Squall watched him go, disappointment and confusion swirling around in his head. He didn’t know what he had done to spoil the man’s mood, but he regretted it. He turned back to the room and locked eyes with Irvine. The cowboy had watched the display and offered his sympathies from the distance. After a brief and very physical relationship with the sharp shooter, Squall had confided in him his feelings for Seifer.
Wet heat traveled up his spine. He arched away from the tickling sensation. “Squall, what are you doing? It’s four am?”
No sound came for some time as Squall trailed kisses over the sleek back of the cowboy. Minutes passed before he responded, “I just got back from the mission. I…missed you.”
Irvine knew how hard words like that were for Squall. He also knew they held no romantic notions. He arched again as the bare skin of Squall’s chest pressed against his back, purring his delight at the sensation. “I missed you too Commander….” He purred, receiving a small nip in response. He chuckled to himself, knowing just how much of a rush Squall got from hearing that. “What can I do for your darlin’? You didn’t break into my rooms just to bathe me hmm?”
Squall grabbed him roughly by the hair, dragging his head up for a fierce kiss. Demanding and verging on violent the Commander forced submission from the cowboy’s tongue. When it was through he was left a whimpering mess. Squall always managed to fuck the cockiness out of him.
Grasping hands traveled down silky flesh, tracing patterns slowly down his back. Squall paused to grasp his partner’s tight cheeks, spreading them experimentally to much moaning from the man beneath him. Irvine squirmed and wiggled his hips, rising up to his knees to offer better access. Squall pressed him down to the bed, leaning over to offer his fingers to needy lips. Irvine sucked them in swiftly, groaning his pleasure as he lavished them with his tongue.
Soon enough Squall was removing those fingers and returned to his knees behind the cowboy. One finger rubbed against the delicate entrance, tracing the ring of muscle and pressing gently. “Give it to me Squall.” The sound of the voice urged him on. He pressed a finger inside to the first knuckle, wiggling it to loosen the hole. It quickly adjusted to the intrusion as Squall pressed on; buried deep he curled his finger, seeking that pleasure center of nerves. Irvine squirmed incessantly, Squall pulled out then slammed two fingers inside, stilling his friend for the moment as Irvine released a cry of pleasure.
Squall relished the sound, basking in that charming voice echoing around him. The usually composed flirt beneath him was writhing and begging at his touch, Squall ached for it, lived for it. This physical contact, though brief, kept him sane. He slid a hand beneath Irvine, grasping the warm, throbbing length his fingers met.
“Commander…” he moaned pathetically, his tone a plea for something he couldn’t even name, just more. “Hyne Squall, fuck me already.”
Irvine could not see the rare smirk on Squall’s face, perhaps that’s why it was there, because no one could see it to use it against him. He leaned down, tongue offering a gentle lick to the tight entrance, tickling around his buried fingers.
Irvine went rigid as Squall found his prostate; the gentle stroking was threatening to tear him apart. His body shook, sweat was breaking out over his skin. “What is it you want 1^st Lieutenant?” It was moments like these that Irvine truly appreciated his friend. The passion held within the seemingly cold man burst forth in simple words like those.
“Commander…I …I want…” He panted, unable to form full sentences as Squall began pumping his engorged flesh. “Co… mmand… der... Fuck… me…”
Squall smiled at this. “You dare give me an order?” he murmured, stroking faster, his fingers moving in and out of his friend’s ass with precise motions.
“Please…” The cowboy whined, moaning with every thrust of the fingers inside.
Squall moved, positioning himself behind the gorgeous sharpshooter. In a one quick motion his fingers were out, and another, he was in. Buried three quarters of the way in one thrust Squall grunted at the entry, mind going blissfully blank at the pleasure folding around him. The exquisite heat and velvety softness mad everything hazy.
Irvine went stiff at the entry, his face frozen in a silent scream. Unprepared for the sheer force of the entry his mind was many steps behind. Squall war out and pressing back in deeper when he finally registered a brush against the spot inside. He moaned his pleasure, licking dry lips, biting down to attempt to stifle his cries.
Squall was quiet in his work, pumping rhythmically, seeking release. He grabbed onto the mane of auburn hair, pulling Irvine’s head up, using the leverage to force himself deeper. His free hand snaked up Irvine’s side, lightly stroking his neck as he fucked roughly.
Irvine was a mess of moans, half formed words and sweaty skin. Both men were on the verge of release. One tired from a rough mission, the other from lack of sleep they quickly waned. It wasn’t long before Squall was rutting vigorously, hands swiftly stroking Irvine’s erection. Heavy breaths filled the room, at the both raced to their peaks, Irvine falling first. “Hyne!” he screamed, spilling himself over Squall’s slowing hand. Squall pushed into him harder before filling his friend with his seed.
Both catching their breath Irvine just lay there, limp while Squall offered gentle and soothing kisses along heated skin. It was only a few more moments before Squall was lying next to Irvine, licking his hand as would a contented cat. Irvine couldn’t help stifle a laugh at the docile lion cleaning his paw. They shared a kiss, tongues gently seeking one another’s company. Irvine enjoyed the taste of himself mixed with squall, hummed happily into the kiss.
“Goodnight Irvine.”
“Goodnight Squall.”
The next morning they both went to meet with Quistis on the subject of Squall’s successful mission. Seifer had been found and Squall had taken it upon himself to retrieve the disoriented and broken Knight, patching him up and bringing him home. Irvine watched Squall watch Seifer. He couldn’t believe what he had seen. The way Squall watched him, the way he touched him. Lying unconscious on the infirmary bed, looking like a rag doll worn out left outside to dry, Seifer commanded more of the Commander’s attention than any other had. The brief surge of jealousy was quashed by his incessant curiosity.
Irvine was determined to know what was going on in that gorgeous head. Squall’s eyes held a tenderness encompassed by a soul consuming regret. Irvine was determined to get to the bottom of it all.
A frustrated sigh escaped the Commander. He downed his glass, pouring another before heading into the other room. He knew he’d have to be at least a little drunk to deal with the atmosphere in the next room without screaming.
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Recovery