Final Fantasy VIII: Laguna/Squall, Incest, If this was the only way his son would let him close….
He used to think he was a good man. He wanted to help people, make friends, see the world and tell others all about it. He fell in love with a good woman, tried to be a good father, and somehow along the road of life damned himself.
If he met Raine in the next life, she'd probably try to kill him. Still...
Squall was a lean arch of battle hard muscle and bone under him, pale thighs spread wide and wanton. Dusky pink nipples peaked at his touch, hungry growls rumbling from the boy's throat. Seventeen and so sweet, still growing but with just enough of that youthful androgyny that made him look so much like his mother.
His son was no virgin. Long fingers callused from his weapon dipped deep inside and pried the rosy ring of muscle open with nothing more than spit for slick. He wanted to know who taught Squall this; how to kiss dirty and scrape his nails just so over another man's ribs, lift his legs and put on a show.
He wants to know why they taught him, because he's heard all the rumors about Garden and some sick, cynical portion of his soul thinks maybe Squall wants it to hurt between them. More than it already does.
He doesn't ask. He watches and pulls those fingers out to replace them with his own, takes control of the kiss and uses every trick he learned being the prettiest man in a lonely barracks on the front lines. And when he slides into his son's slick heat, he prays Raine isn't looking.
Because he isn't a good man. He isn't a good leader or father or even a friend. He's lonely. He's heartbroken. And he's just human enough to admit that even if Squall didn't want this, didn't force the issue and make it an ultimatum; he'd have dreamed about it.
'Blood doesn't matter. You're not my father. Either fuck me or don't, I don't have time for this.'
He should have walked away, or let Squall walk away. He can't now. All he can do is move, thrusting hard and dragging out slow to hear breathy moans. Taste the sweat that beads up on the wing of Squall's clavicle and fist the boy's erection in counter point with something like dark satisfaction when he hears his name.
Hyne help him, he loves his son. If this is the only way Squall will let him close, then he'll damn himself forever. And maybe his mother would understand.