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Kingdom Come	By : angelofinnocence Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1227 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own the boys or any part of final fantasy, just the concepts I like to imagine are originally mine in this work of fanfiction. FFVIII belongs to its creators. I make no profit from writing this, unless you count my own amusement.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter One: Mourning Futures of the Past
- 2-Chapter Two: Basic Instinct
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The days between Seifer's visits always went by in a daze for Squall. He lost track of how long he had been on the planet of Lupine. He spent a majority of his hours reading over the information the tall blonde prince had mentioned to him upon their first meeting and living day to day mechanically, eating, bathing and sleeping in an endless monotonous routine until it was broken by Seifer's inevitable visit to see how he was progressing. The visits were uncomfortable, charged with a tension that Squall could not properly describe. He found himself angry and frustrated with the alpha more often than not, trapped between wanting to kiss him, to bend to his every whim and throttling him or suffocating him with his stupid high collared jacket. He didn't understand the feelings the alpha incited in him, never having had such from any other before him and he had no guidance from his mother, whom would have been able to advise him in such a situation had he been allowed to visit the elder omega.

The time without Seifer's presence only served to make him more aware of how uncomfortable he was in his new home, how much he missed his comfortable room in the palace on his home planet, but he refused to dwell on it as often as possible, refusing to fall victim to his grief over it. He was lonely, unused to being on his own as he was. He hadn't had contact with his own people in so long. He missed the sounds of his parents' voices, the warmth of his mother's embrace and the safety of his father's scent; he even missed his elder brother's obnoxious teasing and overprotective reactions whenever another alpha had shown interest in his younger omegan brother, his claims that it was his duty to protect his younger brother from the alphas that would only want things from him that were so not appropriate for an unmated omega. He missed Irvine's overbearing and patronizing tone when he would tell Squall he'd understand once he came of age and had finished his education because Irvine certainly knew what was so special about omegas though he had yet to meet his own destined one.

Squall couldn't and wouldn't dwell on it because that day, the day he would be of age was approaching much quicker than he had thought it would and the realization that he had no idea what to expect upon reaching that pivotal moment in his life terrified him. And so, to distract himself, he instead focused on learning everything he could about the planet he was now residing on and the Corsican people whom had resided there for as many years as their histories could recall. It wasn't entirely uninteresting, but the brunette prince had an extremely difficult time appreciating the rich history of the kingdom when he was little more than a prisoner within it.

It was perhaps little more than two months since he had been brought to his new home and he was as he was most days, seated on the sofa in his living area, learning. He sighed deeply as he rand a pale fingertip over the thin pad resting on his lap, scrolling along the information that had been provided in the archives of the holosystem, his legs tucked comfortably beneath him, his unoccupied hand propped upon the arm of the sofa, angular chin resting in his palm. Stormy eyes traveled over the digital pages lit up before him, taking in the words and storing them in his memory, but he was having some difficulty committing the information he was currently reading to memory during this particular day. He was restless for a reason he couldn't really put his finger on.

His body was feeling unnaturally hot in his apartment, which made little sense when he had the temperature turned relatively lower than he usually would and his skin felt itchy in a way he'd never before experienced. He felt like he was currently in need of something that he had no hope of attaining and it was entirely frustrating. He'd woken when it was still dark with the feelings that had only worsened over his waking hours and had hoped to be distracted from them by his education, but the long volumes of history and law were simply not enough to keep his thoughts from wandering.

He shifted on the cushions of his sofa, acutely uncomfortable and unable to find any position in which he was comfortable. It was coming up on early evening and he'd finally had enough, irritated with his own inability to sit still for more than ten seconds and retain any of the information he was attempting to learn. He made a frustrated sound and tossed the digital pad to the cushion next to him before getting to his feet. He wandered through the kitchen a moment before his feet moved him towards his bedroom of his own accord and for reasons he couldn't possibly explain he was entirely unsatisfied looking at his bed with its perfectly made up duvet and pillows. It wasn't right for some unfathomable reason.

Suddenly, instincts he had previously never had the experience of dealing with were propelling him into action. He went to the closet and pulled every single spare blanket and duvet, pillows and sheets from the shelves, filling his arms beyond capacity before returning to his room and dropping the entire load on top of the made bed, spending the next hour or so arranging them all in a nest of sorts, soft and comfortable. A feeling of intense satisfaction washed through him upon looking over the nest he had made up atop his mattress, a quiet purr sounding in his chest as he moved to remove his clothing and crawl into the warmth of his bed and before he knew it, he was asleep in the pile of bedclothes.

He wasn't sure what it was that woke him a few hours later, whether it was the intense heat that simmered beneath his skin, feverish and moist with sweat, acutely uncomfortable and no matter how many clothes he removed or how many blankets he kicked away from himself, he could not cool down or if it had been the feeling of slick dampness between his thighs and between the pale cheeks of his rear accompanied by his stiff and glistening cock that simply refused to be calmed no matter how he palmed at it. He had no idea what was happening, having no previous experience, no knowledge on the experience he was having. He wondered if he had eaten something strange, but couldn't recall ingesting anything unusual from his normal diet.

It only got worse, hotter, harder and wetter and he couldn't get relief and then pain hit him, twisting in his gut and making tears sting behind his lashes as he shut his eyes as tightly as he could and before he could stop himself, he was crying out, begging for it to stop, for his mother to help him, to make the hurt stop. When no relief was to be had, driven by instinct, he was calling out for someone else, someone he couldn't understand the need for; he was crying out for his alpha, for Seifer. His scent was so heavy in the air, permeating his entire apartment, heady with arousal and pain, fear laced through it as he writhed within the nest of blankets, crying and moaning, panting breaths heaving as he squirmed and whined. He was burning, he was sure of it, so hot, his blankets were sure to catch flame.

So caught up in his discomfort and distress, he failed to hear the heavy footfalls as they came down the hall, quickening by the moment, until a tall, broad figure stood panting ever so slightly in his doorway. Seifer intense green eyes were blown wide as he scented the air around him. He licked his lips, inhaling Squall's sweet scent deeply, his thick fingers gripping the door frame forcefully as he fought his instincts. Upon entering Squall's home for his usual visit, though it was later than his usual since he'd been in meetings all day until just an hour or two before he'd come to see his charge, he'd expected to find Squall in his living area as he generally was, cold and standoffish. Instead, he'd been nearly bowled over by the intense mix of bittersweetness that was the arousal laced with fear and it immediately had Seifer's instincts going haywire.

He stared at the lithe male squirming in the pile of bedclothes, whimpering and crying, his skin glistening in the dim light, ethereal and his cock jutting up against his flat abdomen, long pale legs tangling in the wrinkled sheets of his nest. Seifer's mouth went dry and a low sound rumbled from within his chest as he took a step closer into the room, his scent flowing out from him in thick waves, dominating and masculine. Squall's stormy eyes cracked, the depths murky, only half aware in the haze of his arousal and discomfort. He reached out to the alpha, pale hands grasping in the air, wanting, needy.

“A-alpha,” his voice cracked as he called out wantonly to the tall blonde, his feline ears pressed to his damp hair, tears still clinging to thick lashes as he begged the other male come closer, to make the hurt less.

Seifer hummed, stepping further into the room, purposefully slipping closer to the writhing brunette, green eyes flashing with primal lust. As soon as he was close enough, his long, tanned fingers slid down the pale reaching hands, over the delicate wrists, supple forearms, pressing them back down against Squall's side as he crawled over him, pinning him beneath his heavier weight. He ran his nose along Squall's chest, brushing his collarbones to bury in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply against his scent gland, mouth watering. He wanted to taste him, to sink his sharp teeth into the pale flesh, to mark him, take him. His instincts screamed at him to give in to the urge. It was so potent, so intoxicating.

Seifer's mind couldn't even recall why he had come to Squall's home in the first place, could not form any coherent thought about anything aside from the beautiful male willing and spread before him, begging to be taken, crying for it, crying for Seifer to devour him, own him, wreck him. And Seifer wanted to, needed to. His erection was painful in the confines of his stiff trousers. His tongue ran along the sweaty column of Squall's throat, lapping up the cinnamon sweetness of the oils leaking from his scent gland, groaning at the flavour. Squall belonged to him. The Churshian was his alone. He growled lowly, nipping at the flesh beneath his lips, darkening it as the blood pulsing under Squall's skin was drawn to the surface.

“Squall,” Seifer's voice was rough, his grip rougher on the other male's body as he grasped at his sides, his hips, his soft soft thighs, too sinfully soft to belong on a man, but Squall was all male. Seifer fought with himself over that fact, his ingrained upbringing fighting instinct; Squall didn't smell like a man. He smelled delicious. Seifer gave in to instinct, trailing harsh fingertips over the milky flesh, parting the silky thighs, caressing slowly, deliberately up the insides, gaze intent as he sat back on his heels to watch. Squall parted his legs without hesitation, following instinct, submitting to his alpha without question. Seifer would make it better, would take the pain and heat away, could and would give him the relief he so desired. So driven by the intense omegan instincts to be taken by his alpha, he could not possibly push Seifer away, to think coherently enough to question what was happening between them, lacking the capacity to put a stop to what was so completely illegal and with the Corsican prince of all people; it was treason. He whimpered desperately, arching against Seifer's touch, fresh slickness moistening his thighs, lubricating him in preparation for what was sure to come.

“Seifer... Alpha! P-please,” he begged raggedly, bending his knees and pulling them up towards his chest as Seifer's palms slipped along the backs of his thighs, helping to position him before trailing further down towards the plump cheeks of his backside, spreading them ever so tenderly to stare at the slick and twitching pink hole. Seifer couldn't even consider the oddity that was the moist arousal that slicked that tiny pucker, entirely consumed with the intense need to fill it instead, to thrust himself inside, to knot himself within the tight heat that so clearly desired him. He wanted to fill Squall to the brim with his cum over and over again until the brunette lost his voice and any ability to move his limbs.

The wolfish male brushed one blunt fingertip through the viscous fluid at Squall's entrance, exhaling a heavy, hissing breath between clenched teeth as he rubbed that fingertip over the tiny opening, watching from beneath half lowered lids as it bloomed for him, inviting him, softening against the probing digit. He slipped his middle finger in to the second knuckle with a deep groan, feeling the slick tunnel clamping around it and sucking it further in and Squall shuddered, arching off the mattress, shifting his hips, trying desperately to push that intruding finger deeper. The brunette's eyes were closed tightly, brow furrowed, cinnamon tail lashing back and forth restlessly over the rumpled bedding, head falling back to splay the thick chestnut strands of his hair about his head, bearing the wicked arch of his pale throat already bruised with several of Seifer's marks. Seifer panted heavily as he used his unoccupied hand to unbuckle and unzip his trousers, freeing his thick and leaking cock from the confines of the constricting garments, stroking himself slowly a few times, spreading his own precum along his shaft.

He licked his lips hungrily, pressing a second finger into Squall's rosy little anus, thrusting them in and out slowly, scissoring them, stretching his mate, impatient to be inside that hot slick channel. He pressed them in as far as he could, curling the digits inside the tight passage and Squall let out a high sound, shuddering as Seifer's fingers stroked his prostate, intense pleasure rocking through him in heady waves.

Breathy pleas spilled from saliva slicked lips as Squall begged Seifer to take him and Seifer pulled his fingers out with a lewd sound before he was removing his clothing jerky hurried movements, needing to be rid of them as quickly as possible, to be able to drive into the lithe brunette beneath him, no other thoughts taking precedence over the ferocious primal need to fill the other.

When he was entirely nude, he wedged himself between Squall's smooth thighs and hovered close to the brunette's flushed face, their breath mingling. He wanted to kiss those bowed lips, to claim them as he would surely claim the rest of the beautiful creature rutting up against him. Squall's cock pressed up against the hardness of Seifer's abdominal muscles whilst the blonde's throbbing member rubbed teasingly between the soft cheeks of the Churshian's ass. Then Squall's hands were on him, blunt fingernails digging into the flesh of Seifer's back as he writhed and arched against the taller prince. Seifer growled at the sharp sting of Squall's nails breaking skin, bringing with it a stroke of clarity.

Seifer swallowed hard, one hand brushing sweaty bangs away from Squall's forehead before gripping at his jaw to force the younger male to look at him, stormy depths hazy with animalistic desire, the normally ovalled pupils blown wide, rounded out to leave only a ring of murky blue grey to be seen around their opaque depths. “Squall... Squall, you sure?” Seifer's voice was low, guttural, almost a growl as he spoke, his grip on Squall's jaw near painful as he fought against his need to fuck the brunette into the mattress. He didn't understand what had caused this sudden urge to mate between them, couldn't fathom what was completely natural and normal for a Churshian omega coming of age as Squall was, the heat that had controlled Squall's lascivious actions, prompting him to cry out for Seifer, for his alpha.

Squall made a low sound between a whimper and a needy moan as he tried to focus, to understand Seifer's words, the flicker of concern in the deep forest of the blonde's lust filled gaze. Seifer was asking for assurance as if he would be able to stop now that they had come so far, as if he would be able to pull away, to leave Squall as he was, to put his clothes back on and leave the Churshian before they broke any more laws. They both knew on some level that that would be impossible; they were already past the point of no return. Seifer would never be able to leave on his own and Squall couldn't fathom asking him to stop with the amount of pain he'd been in before Seifer had arrived, the alpha's scent, his mere presence having helped to dull the throbbing ache within him. He couldn't answer Seifer, voice stuck in his throat and so instead, he slid one searing hand between the heated press of their bodies, sweaty palm sliding between their locked hips, fingers curling around the thickness of Seifer's manhood, grasping at the base and positioning it where they both wanted, needed it. The blunted head pressed against the rosy, lube soaked pucker and Squall tilted his hips ever so slightly and it slipped inside him. His grip on the base of Seifer's cock tightened before it loosened and let go entirely and they both moaned as Seifer pressed in further, that brief moment of clarity already lost to the heat and scent of Squall's body.

It was hot and slick and deliciously tight inside the other male, more so than any female Seifer had ever had the experience of rutting with; he felt like he was melting. He swore under his breath before he was finally pressing his lips to Squall's forcefully, hungrily, desperately, tasting, biting, devouring. He couldn't stop, couldn't get enough. His fingers clenched against defined hips, bruising pale flesh harshly, digging into the flushed skin greedily as Seifer began to rock his hips, rutting against the brunette's ass, his cock sliding out and then in, out and in again, thrusts becoming stronger, harder, faster with every passing. And Squall was begging again, crying for his alpha, don't stop, never stop, take him, fill him, devour him, defile and ruin him, whatever he wanted as long as he could be Seifer's always, forever, please, please, please...

Seifer did as he was told, holding Squall tightly, too tightly, marking his flesh in so many ways, bruising, biting, nails breaking flesh, drawing blood just as Squall's dug into the slick flesh of his shoulder blades and raked over his back, surely leaving raised welts in their wake, but it didn't matter; Squall could mark him as much as he liked because certainly Seifer had no right to complain considering the numerous marks he was leaving all across the other prince. Seifer was grunting, panting harshly against Squall's neck, sucking at the sensitive gland that was pouring out that sweet intoxicating scent, the taste of the oils lingering on Seifer's tongue and making him buck wildly into Squall. The brunette was crying out frantically, loud, voice cracking, high and breathless as tears ran unbidden from tightly closed eyes, shuddering and moaning and trying to breathe, to just remember how to breathe at all. So close...

He was choking on his breath, sobbing, tensing, tightening around Seifer, cumming slick and hot between them and around the thick cock inside him, waves of pleasure crashing, crushing, crawling, electric and burning, completely wrecking him in their intensity and he couldn't even scream, no voice left to cry out as he clutched to his alpha desperately. And when Squall tightened impossibly, deliciously, painfully around Seifer, the alpha prince's knot flared and he shoved hard into Squall, locking them together roughly, hard, harsh, unforgiving and Squall whimpered, but only clung harder as Seifer pumped him full of thick, pearly ropes of seed, filling the younger male, trapping the heady semen inside Squall with the knot at the base of his cock and Seifer groaned low and primal, instinct sated as he bit harshly into the crook of Squall's neck, marking him, mating him as was only proper, copper and cinnamon coating his mouth as he sucked at the broken flesh, lapping at it, apologetic, but pleased; it would scar and Squall, sweet, beautiful, dangerous Squall Leonhart only shivered against Seifer and held tighter to him, hardly breathing, baring his throat in complete trust of his alpha, his mate, unable to deny the Corsican prince anything he might have asked for. He belonged to Seifer and Seifer... Seifer belonged to him as surely as he was the alpha's.

Exhausted and entirely sated, unable to form a single thought aside from sleeping, protecting what was his, Seifer shifted Squall atop him, rolling onto his back and allowing for the other male to stretch over him, along him, that silky tail, heavy and lazily flicking against his calf, ticklish and warm as Squall sprawled as comfortably as possible over him with his thick knot still wedged inside of him. The brunette was already asleep, movements sluggish and unconscious, pliant in Seifer hold as the wolfish male maneuvered them both into a better position and wrapping protective arms around the lithe Churshian prince as he too gave in to the need for sleep, resting until the heat returned and Squall began begging again and again and again until his voice was hoarse and lost entirely, throats raw, tired and chafed, starving and sore from a week's (maybe more, Seifer couldn't be certain) of fucking. And when it was all over, Seifer still couldn't leave.

TBC...
Notes:

So bam! There it is, smutty smutty goodness... Um let me know what you all thought. I recently realized there was such a thing as Omegavers and edited this fic to suit that universe, hope I didn't fuck it up too badly. If anyone has suggestions or would like to see something added, feel free to comment. The next chapter should be fluffier and have a little or a lot more plot, not too sure yet. I hadn't originally intended to have the smutty bits so soon, but hey, is anyone really complaining?

Until next time,

Xander
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Kingdom Come