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feel warmth as we feel love

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Zell steps through the front door, body trembling against the bitter cold from the unheated breezeway, and shuts the door behind him with his foot. The warmth of the apartment is awesome, seeping into him immediately. He toes his sneakers off, unwinds his scarf and hangs it on the peg. His fingers are still frozen, though, and fumble on the buttons of his coat.

"You're late."

Zell rolls his eyes as he gets through one fucking button. He hates the cold and misses Balamb. "I walked from the train station. The roads are a death trap with all the ice."

"Mmm," Seifer says, and if anything, when he steps towards Zell the air gets hotter, charged. "If you put your hands on me I will break your fucking neck," he says, eyes narrow and darkening. He moves through the last few buttons of the heavy winter coat with quick fingers. "Did you get it?"

Zell grins. "Inside pocket, left side."

Seifer raises a brow and slips his hand inside, running the back of his hand over Zell's stomach. "I suppose I'll have to take it all back," he says, when he pulls back with the disc in his hand. "You can run a nice con."

"It's the hair, dude. They never suspect people who —"

"Look like chocobos?" Seifer offers, smirking.

"Ugh, shut up, don't even act like your terrible joke is funny." Zell watches Seifer slide the disc into his satchel hanging from the wall. "I was saying that everyone assumes I'm a moron."

"Assumes?" Seifer asks, and before Zell can snap back, god Seifer is such an ass, Seifer grips Zell's fingers and presses them to his lips, breathing on them carefully. Seifer's hands are warm and Zell's fingertips tingle where Seifer's breath ghosts across his skin.

Zell opens his mouth to say—something, he is sure he had something to say, except Seifer brushes his mouth across his wind-burned knuckles, and his throat clenches shut.

"No smart ass comments now, huh," Seifer says. He drops Zell's hands and slides his palms back into the coat to shove it off Zell's shoulders. It falls with a thump and pools around Zell's feet. Seifer's palms are wide and possessive as they make their way underneath Zell's office-appropriate sweater. "I don't think you're a moron," he whispers, and then kisses him, open-mouth and immediately wet and filthy. Zell can't resist, not when Seifer is radianting heat and dives his hands into the warmth beneath Seifer's sweatpants, laying his palms flat against the soft skin of his hips. Seifer growls into Zell's mouth, biting at his lower lip and shoves him back into the door.

"Fuck," he says, mouthing at Zell's jaw. "That was so fucking cold, you little shit."

"Warm me up then, captain," Zell says. He's rewarded when Seifer laughs and drives a thigh between his, and yeah, he's warmer now. Trapped between the door and Seifer's body, Zell can't exactly get any traction, but Seifer is hard and hot against him so he doesn't care. Seifer's fingers pop the button of his pants and slip a hand inside. Zell's head hits the door as he arches into the warm, familiar palm wrapping around his cock.

"You were cold," Seifer muses, stroking him, pressing their foreheads together.

"Shut up," Zell says. "You walk three miles in the snow and see what your dick does, you fucker."

"Maybe later," Seifer says, and coaxes him hard, one steady pull at a time while he undoes Zell with his mouth. Zell should be used to way Seifer kisses him like he owns him, but he isn't yet. It still all feels new, like it was yesterday he had come home from his boring nine to five job for the mission and been kissed for the first time, greedy and demanding.

In no time at all he's rocking his hips up, and Seifer runs a thumb over the head of his cock, making him squirm. He can't go anywhere though, not with Seifer's thigh driving the balls of his feet off the floor.

"You could not go back," Seifer murmurs, and scrapes their cheeks together as drags his hand up, squeezing. "The information is what we came for, after all."

"Xu would—" Zell chokes as everything gets slicker, Seifer gliding his thumb into precome and smearing it, using it to torture him, fuck. "She would kill us. Blow the cover, they're never supposed to know this internship was fake." He groans at the end of it, as Seifer presses his own cock, hot and hard through his sweats, into Zell's hip.

"But I think this is worth celebrating," Seifer says. "You didn't fuck up. It's a banner day."

"I'll just—" Zell dropps his head foreward and sucks in air as Seifer jerks him faster. "Call—call in sick," he chokes out. "Gotta work through the end of the week, fuck! Seifer!" he says when Seifer stops, just fucking stops, his hand wrapped around Zell's cock and not moving when he's so close.

"Such a good SeeD, aren't you?" Seifer says, voice low and throaty in Zell's ear. "Won't even screw up the mission to stay in bed and let me fuck you for a job well done?"

"You knew I wouldn't," Zell says, gasping as Seifer squeezes, and god, he's going to fucking kill Seifer for this. "Are you trying—what do you want."

"For you to come all over your ugly fucking sweater," Seifer says, and when he jacks Zell this time, slow and careful, he sinks his teeth into the soft skin over the pulse in his neck once, then follows it with his tongue. "For you to fall apart for me." He shoves Zell higher, rocking his own erection into Zell's hip. "Come on, come on, don't be fucking shy about it," he says, breath hot on Zell's skin. Zell can barely remember being cold now, everything scorching and and frantic, Seifer's skin under his hands damp with sweat.

"Seifer," Zell says, and he's right there, balls tight and his entire body flush, and Seifer twists his hand hard once and Zell comes, crying out, streaking Seifer's knuckles as Seifer rocks into him. It's fucking perfect, the rush of it as he comes and Seifer follows him over, cock twitching against Zell's hip as he comes in his fucking pants, trembling as he collapses forward.

He crushes Zell into the door, their bodies messy and hot where they touch. Seifer buries his face in Zell's neck, and he knows Seifer well enough not to say anything for a minute. Instead, he breathes Seifer in, the smell of his soap and Zell's shampoo that he steals.

"My feet are cold," Zell says a few minutes later. "There's a draft."

"I have to change my pants," Seifer says into his hair. Zell pretends not to feel the kiss to his temple, because that way lies sleeping on the couch. "I win."

"Dude, it's not my fault you decided this is my reward for just doing my job," Zell says as Seifer pulls away. "What do I get if I rank up?"

"A fist to your jaw," Seifer says, and Zell just grins at him. "God, you're a fucking mess." He runs a hand down Zell's sweater and over, palms Zell's stomach. Zell is sticky and Seifer's hand is covered in come and it's so fucking hot. He hisses a little when Seifer cups him again. "But why would I tell you?" he asks. "Way more fun for you to be surprised." He squeezes once and then backs off, which just isn't fucking fair.

"Seifer," he says, and it's not a whine, Zell will never admit it.

Seifer only raises an eyebrow at him. "I'm going to take off my pants," he says. "Coming?"

Zell laughs, happy. "Every time," he says, and leaves his coat in in a pile by the door.