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Recovery	By : RabidPhilosopher Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male > Seifer/Squall Views: 999 -:- 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
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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.
Thank you all for reading! This is the first fic I’ve written in years as well as the first FF fic I’ve written and the first m/m fic. Please bear with me. I’m very open to criticism as long as it’s constructive so please reply to let me know how I did. ^-^ This is a work in progress and it is a plot oriented fic. The naughty bits will be less prevalent in the beginning so if you’re looking for constant hardcore action this isn’t the fic for you. Thanks again and I hope you enjoy!
His breathing echoed in the quiet room. Panting breaths became the baseline. The rustle of sheets, sliding over sweaty skin, caressing as intimately as only a lover could. Bare skin glistened in the gentle glow of the moon, giving tanned skin a pearlescent glow. The tempo quickens, the air is thick, strained lungs grasp for every last bit of air. A scream rings out, the baritone of the voice hardly matching the terror of the cry; the outburst is fit to wake the dead. Lucky for Seifer no dead would be after him, just an angry room-mate with a pillow. The man raised his weapon in anger only to hastily fluff it and roll over, grumbling before once again beginning to snore. It has been said that Seifer's glares could melt ice, though many thought this an understatement. With a look he could freeze the very blood in one's veins. An involuntary shiver struck the lump on the other side of the room. Satisfied, he lay back, pillowing his head on shaking hands as he surveyed the ceiling. Cursing his weakness he willed the shaking to stop. Thankful to Hyne that no one was there to witness it, dry sobs wracked his body, not even permitting the relief of tears. He fell into another fitful sleep, tossing and turning well past sunrise.
Clawed fingers stroked his hair, gently, lovingly offering a silent comfort while the words resonated within. "They know not what the turn away child. Come with me Seifer, be with me forever, my shining knight in the dark." Her voice sickeningly sweet the woman continued to cradle his head, the caressing fingers offering a deep calm. "Come with me Seifer, let go. Come to me Seifer, I always loved you most." He lay silent for a long time, content to get lost in the images she wove. "Okay," he whispered. Her hum of approval warmed him. "You give yourself to me fully as my knight and protector?" He sat up, looking at the woman, once mother to him, "Yes, I do. I will be your knight." She smiled, the comfort replaced by a predatory spark. "Good boy," the sweetness gone, replaced by condescending anger. "Good boy." She gripped him by the throat, cutting off his breath. He struggled against the inhuman strength; about to throw her off he was frozen. Ice stabbed at his insides, causing a shriek of pain that could not come. "Now now child, you promised me." Leaning close she whispered in his ear, "You agreed to be mine, now the magic will make it so." She gripped his chin roughly, kissing him with a violent urgency. Her lips tasted of venom, everything about her now visible for its truth, poison at the heart, the tendrils reaching out to wrap around him, reaching inside, spreading their taint throughout his being. Eyes wide, he tried to break free, tried to force her back. He fought the corruption as it scratched at his brain, little competition in his current state. It twirled around what was inherently him, a shifting prison of poison holding him captive within himself. His eyes dimmed as her laughter echoed in his cell, "You will serve me well boy." He could hear a voice that wasn't his, but was. Never did he remember being so hateful, "Yes, my Lady." He felt himself kiss her hand, recoiling from the sudden cold, but his body would not obey. Her laughter buzzed through his core, everything fuzzy, pain erupted at the sounds of her pleasure. The vibrations threatened to break him apart.
A gentle hum breezed through his subconscious. Nothing spectacular, just one irritating note and, THUNK! Seifer shot upright as the offending cell phone fell from where it had struck his head, to the floor, continuing to vibrate innocently. He chose to forego the glare he was going to give when the thing finally stopped, a little chime signaling a missed call. He turned away, getting caught up in the already tangled sheets as he attempted more sleep; Seifer had finally reached his breaking point when the buzzing began anew. With a roar of suppressed anger he snatched the offending object and spun to hurl it across the room when he noticed the leather clad brunette sitting on his roomie's bed, regarding him with a raised brow and what could only be called amusement in Squall Leonheart land.
Though stunned by the commander's presence, he hid it well. Turning to face his rival, trademark smirk in place, they engaged in what could only be called a staring contest. Squall brought a hand up to rest on his chin, with the intention of allowing the blond to wait until his stubbornness ran out; he could not help but take in Seifer's state of dress. In a matter of seconds eyes traveled down the heavily muscled form, taking in every minute detail and filing it away for later thought. Brilliant blue eyes partially hidden beneath golden locks, longer since the war. Weary from lack of sleep they still shone with the calculating intelligence many did not give the man credit for. A perfectly chiseled face carried the ever present arrogant smirk that boiled the blood. Strong jaw leading to a graceful neck, the curve tantalizing as it reached powerful shoulders. Strong arms lay crossed over a gorgeous chest, each defined muscle hard from training. Melding into solid hips the eye was drawn further down by the thin trail of soft hair. What lay at the junction of thick thighs could only be described as godly. The massive organ hanging limp was magnificent, Squall found himself fighting the desire to drop to his knees and see what it would look like hard.
The slip up was enough, years of communicating with little more than the occasional grunt had taught Seifer how to pick up on these little ques. His smirk grew wider as he slowly turned away, heading to his dresser for clothing. "See something you like Squally?" Tone turned a husky baritone, Seifer stopped dead at the near whisper behind him.
"And if I do?" Few would have been able to distinguish the playful tease in the otherwise cold voice. Squall shocked even himself with that response, but refused to let it show. He still sat, expressionless to the world save for the exception before him.
Seifer turned, still nude, to observe his rival. It was his turn to raise a brow. "What gives? You're happy, it's weird." He continued watching the younger man, suspicion on his face. Squall never responded to his quips, suggestive or otherwise; curiosity was starting to get the better of him. If anything Squall would chastise him to watch his language.
Squall just continued to study, a lion stalking his prey. It was unnerving to Seifer how Squall could so easily make him feel the hunted, though he'd never admit it to himself much less show it. Seifer shrugged, opening a drawer he growled low in his throat. Squall was grateful his rival was turned away. The sound combined with the situation had him near drooling over the eye candy mere feet away. His hands twitched, gripping the sheets before once more relaxing. Pants beginning to grow uncomfortably tight he decided it was time to break the news and head out.
"You're moving.” His gunblade rubbed reassuringly against his thigh as her passed the blond. "I'll show you to your new quarters."
"So you fucking took all of my things?! While I was fucking sleeping?!" His face flushed with anger only serving to excite Squall further, this was how his fantasies usually began. An enraged Seifer on a rampage being shown better ways to expend that energy.
Calloused hands gripper him roughly, slamming him against the wall. That low growl reached his ears again and he was unable to hold back a moan. Seifer pressed him back against the wall harder, moving close to study lust clouded eyes. He felt Squall's erection pressing against him in the close quarters. "Princess likes it rough hmm?” Seifer whispered, pressing his own hips painfully against the throbbing bulge in Squall's pants. Unable to form words Squall managed out a choked, "Seifer..."
"Has puberty boy been dreaming of me?" Seifer's tongue traveled down the pale neck before him, leaving small red marks where his teeth took hold. Squall could barely comprehend, the heat and touch inviting him to give himself over to his rival. "Beg if you want more Leonheart, maybe I'll be generous."
"Please Seifer...please..."

Squall had to fight back a groan; resisting the urge to turn back to his rival he discreetly resituated himself in the leather and opened the door. "I left clothes in your closet, I'll be waiting outside." With that he left, the door closing with a barely audible click leaving a confused and fuming Seifer to storm about getting dressed.
Content with his plan to make the brunette wait Seifer sauntered about, hopping in the shower to wash away the sweat of nightmares. Throwing on the only thing left in his closet, black slacks and a black tank, he chose to leave the button down hanging. Noticing his shoes placed neatly by the door along with his gunblade, Seifer sighed in relief.
"I should have known Leonheart would never let anyone touch you baby. He values his limbs too much." Caressing the steel he took a few deep breaths, calming himself enough to face the world outside. Without a look back he secured his blade and opened the door.
Squall was leaning against the wall outside, looking for all the world like it was his every intention to be lounging there for the past half hour. Too preoccupied with Hyperion, Seifer didn't notice the once over he was receiving. Taking that into account Squall allowed his eyes to go back for seconds, lingering on the way the cloth clung to the older man's chest. Hyne above I don't know how much more I can take.
Managing to pull his eyes away Squall started off silently, trusting the grumbling, yet curious man to follow. It wasn't long before Seifer began to wonder why he was being so cooperative. Must be the lack of sleep. Taking long strides to get right behind his rival Seifer leaned in close to his ear. "So Princess, isn't it customary to go on a date before you ask me to move in?" His voice, dripping with innuendo, almost made Squall stop; only years of training keeping him moving.
"There have been complaints of nightly noises, anything you want to mention?"
"It's not my fault they scream, I'm just that good." He tossed back casually, easily changing the subject. "So, you've heard about the legend that is Seifer Almays and wanted to ride yourself?"
Squall swallowed hard, thankful his voice remained steady. "You're getting your own room in a less public quarter. You're going to be a SEED in a few days anyway; we're just moving you early." Squall continued, ignoring the blonde’s sudden pause. "Don't tell Quistis I mentioned it, she threatened to have Selphie follow me around for a week if I did."
Seifer was too excited to care. His stomach was doing summersaults, threatening to leap from his mouth if he opened it. Though it was silly, he knew it was silly, his pride swelled. What did SEED mean to him now? He couldn't really answer, yet his subconscious knew he reveled in the sense of belonging. It had been so long since he had belonged, he couldn't help that childish joy that crept up, painting a genuine smile on his face. Though he found it quickly and squashed it before it began.
It took Seifer a moment to realize they'd stopped. He looked at his rival with trademark smirk in place as Squall leaned over to punch in the code, door sliding open to reveal a small entry way with closet. Shouldering past the brunette he entered.
"How sweet Leonheart, you shouldn't have."
"They're from Selphie," he muttered, feeling embarrassed. Only his close friends knew of his sexual preferences, but Seifer didn't know the half of it. Though Seifer loved to tease him mercilessly, he had no idea of the truth to his words. Thankfully the blond kept his teasing to a minimum in public, a rare display of respect from the gunblader.
"Catch Princess," Seifer grinned, tossing a small package at the brunette. Lost in thought, Squall almost missed the item, snatching it deftly from the air before it flew past him. A nondescript parcel, the size of a small book sat in his confused hands. The brown paper wrapping tied with twine gave nothing away to what was beneath.
"Happy Birthday. Now go away so I can get some celebration sleep." Squall watched him disappear into his room and shut the door. The sound of springs as Seifer fell upon the bed reached Squall's ears; he let himself out.
Feeling strangely detached from reality he walked slowly to his room, turning the package over in his hands. The distance now much shorter after Seifer's move, it didn't take long before he was sitting on his couch, glaring daggers at the present as if it would profess all of its secrets under the intense gaze. Lost in thought, he mused upon the significance of gifts, he didn't like them. He felt some strange sort of obligation to be happy about what he received, and truth be told, he was a picky man. The obligation to be appreciative was awkward at best and required too much speech for his liking.
Coming back to himself from reminiscing of past birthdays and Seifer's gifts, Squall's faint smile turned to a furious glare. He swept up the package, hugged it to his chest, and made his way to his room. Tossing the thing to the bed in a fit of fickle rage, Squall headed for the shower. Turning the water to a scalding spray, he climbed in, hoping to scour himself of his previous thought processes. This only brought Seifer to the forefront again. He cursed his traitorous mind and grabbed the soap, internally grumbling at himself. His hands started to wander. They ran down his firm chest, teasing a trail over his belly to his goal. Hot water and soapy hands offered a thrilling sensation to his already firm member. He grasped it, panting quietly in the heat. Setting a quick pace as he pushed back the familiar creeping shame, Squall leaned his forehead against the tiled wall. Hand working swiftly, he brought the other up to tug at the small piercing in his nipple. He imagined Seifer growling his approval at the sight and lost it. The only sound a barely audible "Seif..." as he spilled into the basin beneath.
With his mind firmly back in place he was beginning to grow terribly apprehensive. Angry at his lack of control, he finished cleaning, drying with a towel before wrapping it around his waist. Finding himself at the foot of the bed once more, Squall stared disdainfully at the package as if it might explode. He approached cautiously, feline grace apparent as he crawled up the sheets, stalking the intrusion. He lay beside the package, observing each and every crease and fold in the paper, the fraying twine tied in a hasty bow. No marking of any kind gave away the secret hidden within.
In a brief, clear moment of uncontrollable curiosity he grabbed the gift and pulled on one end of the bow. He felt like a child again, scared and hopeful, for something to bring a warmth he could never quite grasp. There, next the knot; he pulled it free. Unaware he was holding his breath; he carefully unfolded the paper, a glimpse of black before his prize was revealed to him. Pulling away the last piece of paper revealed a thin box. When he pulled the lid away, Squall was stunned. Speechless by virtue of situation rather than choice for once, Squall could do little more than gaze at the art in his lap. The scent of leather surrounded him; he breathed it in heavily, finally giving in to aching lungs. In the small black box, laying on a piece of blue silk was the most magnificent pair of gloves in creation.
Somehow the presentation was so very Seifer, breathtakingly beautiful wrapped in fine cloth and an abrasively aggressive personality. Squall stared for a while, loosing track of the minutes as they passed. Finally his fingertips graced the cloth, he shuddered in pleasure. Stroking the softness of the leather beside the patch of silk was heaven. He closed his eyes, loosing himself in the sensation. The stimulation of sensitive skin overloaded his senses. Slowly opening his eyes Squall began tracing fingers over exquisite embroidery. On one wrist sat griever, silver and blue of varying shades. On the other wrist lay two gunblades, crossed in combat. It was clear to whom each blade belonged, in blue and silver was Lionheart, in red and gold shone Hyperion. From each hilt dangled a chain with either man's iconic mark. Sparks flashed from where they met.
Squall pulled each one on with a childlike eagerness. The inside lined with a warm softness he could not put a name to, maybe a new cloth from Esthar. It felt exquisite. The slight stiffness of new leather gave little resistance as he flexed his fingers. Curling up he cradled his hands to his chest, the small scrap of silk, rough around the edges bundled in clenched fingers. The intimate marks hidden from the world on the underside of the wrist, the only markings on the top were the small yet intricately drawn "SL" at the bottom outer edge.
He drifted off for a time; much needed sleep claiming him early for a change. Usually working into the morning hours and waking with the sun, he was constantly on overdrive. Kadowaski warned that his body would give out before forty; he argued that was long enough for a mercenary. She would give him more supplements and he would be clear for another three months.
Naturally when he woke two hours later Squall was angry over the nap and shot out of bed. Throwing clothes on hastily he grabbed his laptop and headed to his office. Seifer was one of the many things on his to-do list today and now he was hours behind. Barely noticing his surroundings as his feet stalked the familiar path to his office, Squall gave off the oh so familiar don't fuck with me aura. Any students roaming the halls gave the scowling Headmaster and Commander a wide breath.
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