myeerah (myeerah) wrote in areyougame, @ 2008-10-18 10:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | *final fantasy viii, author: myeerah |
Coming Home, FFVIII (Seifer/Irvine)
Title: Coming Home
Author/Artist: myeerah
Rating: not worksafe
Warnings: language, m/m sexings, a touch of dub-con and traces of violence
Word count: 820
Prompt: October 18 - Final Fantasy VIII, Seifer/Irvine: stopping short of orgasm - "You gotta be kidding."
Summary: Garden wants to reclaim its lost sheep.
“You gotta be kidding,” Seifer snorted, threadbare armchair creaking as he unceremoniously dropped into it.
“Nah.”
Seifer had been living quietly in Fisherman’s Horizon for the better part of six months. He cursed himself for having dropped his guard a little, thinking that if they hadn’t come after him by then, he was in the clear. You didn’t want to delay the capture and execution of somebody guilty of torture, murder, and acts of war, after all. Coming after him out of concern had never entered into his mind.
“Yeah, go back for the sake of a woman who’s already fucked me over.” Rolling his eyes, Seifer—quite reasonably in his opinion—asked, “Are you retarded or something?”
“Or something,”
“So I’m shit, now?” Seifer bristled, standing abruptly and brandishing Hyperion, the weapon never far from his hand. “Way to make your case, jackass. Get the fuck out.”
“Not a chance.”
The sniper hadn’t made an unfriendly move yet. He was still propping himself against the wall, arms folded across his chest and all his weight on one leg. Not even remotely a battle stance. Seifer relaxed, Hyperion still in hand, but no longer at the ready. “Why you? Why didn’t she come herself, if she’s so damn worried about me?”
“Uh, maybe because, like you said, she’d already fucked you over?” Tendrils of hair fluttered as
Scorn laced Seifer’s refusal. “You can just blow me.”
That didn’t have the effect he was looking for.
“I meant—” Seifer began, before sucking in a breath as
“Mmmm?” Violet eyes rolled up to look at him through a delicate fringe of auburn lashes. His fine-boned, almost feminine cheeks were hollowed as
“Fuck,” Seifer groaned, met only with an emphatic, “Mmm.”
Hardening rapidly under the onslaught of wet heat and suction, Seifer knocked that ridiculous hat from the other man’s head and grabbed a fistful of his ponytail. The other hand, still gripping the hilt of his gunblade, rested on
Wrapping his gloved hand more firmly in the length of hair, he jerked the kneeling man closer. “Fuck,yeah,” he breathed. “Just like that.” He liked the little choking noises
It didn’t take long to bring him to the edge, panting, eyes closed, head tossed back and the chain of his choker taut against the strain of his neck, the heat and wet and tongue and teeth and and and—it all stopped.
A muted, “See ya later!” came floating back through to the young man sprawled on the grubby hardwood. Seifer looked at the handful of long auburn hairs in one hand, the slightly bloodied blade in the other, and the raging erection in between. “Son of a bitch!” he swore. He’d see