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It had to have been somewhere between midnight and 2 A.M. when Seifer found Squall tucked into himself. He was hidden away in one of the alcoves of the training center with his head between his knees, hands laced together on the back of his neck. It wasn't strange that he was awake. No, nor that he had apparently had a similar inclination as Seifer upon his own struggle to fall asleep. What was odd about the circumstances was that he was quaking like an aspen leaf, labored breathing audible over the ambient sounds around them both.
Despite having made no effort at masking himself or the sound of his approach, Squall doesn't seem very... aware of his being there. That was unlike him. Which is why Seifer stops an appropriate distance away and taps Hyperion's tip twice against the metal of the walkway to get his attention that way.
"Huhn-?" Squall jolts like Seifer had unloaded a shot instead. His gaze snaps on the blond and he takes a short, huffed inhale through his mouth before his lips curl- then close in a thin line. Seifer's nose wrinkles slightly as Squall's scent spikes in the air around them. Sea salt and iron. That was his first real clue that something was up, because Squall never smelled very strongly of anything usually. The consequences of being a late bloomer- completely unpresented even at the age of sixteen. Except that this smell was cloying, suffocating even, enough that Seifer could gag on it if he got any closer to the brunet.
"What," He shoots back, unimpressed with the display. "You get spooked by a scary bite bug and run away with your tail between your legs?"
The muscles in Squall's face twitch in a way not unfamiliar. Seifer can tell his mouth and mind are working around a hypothetical response to the jab. Predictably, it doesn't come out into the air between them. Squall just clenches his jaw and tries to steady his previously heavy breathing.
Inclining his head curiously, Seifer stops to really take in the sight before him.
Squall was sweat soaked, his hair damp with it, jacket tossed haphazardly over the railing nearby where Revolver was equally as carelessly leaned. His face had a faint flush to it that normally only came with a long, hard fight or when he was unceremoniously called upon to stand in front of the class. He kept blinking as if trying to clear his vision of something; Combined with the peculiar new scent in the air and the fact his pupils were blown wide into dark discs...
Seifer had a slim idea of what exactly was going on with Squall. And frankly? It pissed him off and excited him in equal measures.
It was no secret that Squall was the oldest person at Garden that had yet to present. There was plenty of speculation to fly around, even among the staff, as month after month and year after year Squall Leonhart remained clear of markings and mostly neutral of scent. Most people liked to figure Squall would present as an omega when the time came. Something about it being more common for them to be late bloomers. He had always sort of hoped Squall would end up the same as him.
Seifer had presented early and been completely infuriated with the results from the moment the filigree-like markings had faded into the skin across his collar bones. Like a bruise, like a brand. Beta the marks said. Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary. Exemplary only in the fact they were biologically wired to be fucking mediators. Soothers, comforters, spineless schmucks without any bite to back up their bark. What a fucking joke.
Seifer hadn't let that stop him of course. Tried, even, to wear the marks with some degree of pride despite how shafted he felt by his own damn biology. There was no way he was meant to play the diplomat. Like hell. He'd spent most his adolescence so so sure that he'd present an alpha when the time came...
Which is why there is something particularly insulting about how strong Squall's scent is in the air, sharp and dangerous as a knife's edge. It made him think back to when he'd first presented and rushed to none other than the boy himself to figure out what he smelled like now to others. It had been with a very expressionless contemplation that the brunet informed him he smelled 'like cinnamon'.
Embarrassing.
Not as embarrassing as Squall now, of course, who was staring at Seifer with some unreadable emotion on his face. His mouth was faintly ajar in a way that told Seifer he was currently tasting the air.
"You look like fresh hell." He says if only to finally break the tense silence. Seifer drops into a crouch using Hyperion to steady himself. Squall's lip curls again and Seifer swears he hears the start of a growl in his throat. His eyes narrow. His own scent must've come out as a warning because Squall bows his head with a grunt, taking several shallow breaths.
"You going to sit here being difficult and miserable until someone else finds your sorry self? Instructor Trepe maybe? I'm sure she'd just love to find you all vulnerable-"
"Shut up, would you?" Ah. Squall's voice is like gravel on the ears, strained in his throat. Seifer merely drums his fingers along his blade's hilt and watches as he slowly uncurls and starts to stand on shaky legs. He pitches to the side, unbalanced, but catches himself against the railing with a stumble. It'd be sort of endearing in a way if it weren't for the fact there was a very distinct fury starting to boil beneath Seifer's skin.
Squall pulls on his jacket, predictably, despite being coated in tacky sweat. The fur ruff of it hides any chance at Seifer seeing if there were tell tales marks along the back of his neck. He knew at least, from the low cut of his white cotton shirt, that there were none on his collar bones which immediately disqualified his running theory of Squall presenting as a beta. That left two options and both would require Squall removing clothes to confirm, not putting more on.
"You're acting a nuisance." The brunet says at last. Moving around a bit seemed to have given him back some of his composure. He certainly sounded more put together anyways. Seifer just gives a humorless smile.
"Right. Next time I'll be sure to leave you to the Rexaurs." Squall doesn't grace him with a response. He grabs Revolver from where it leans and sheaths it into a junction-holster before squaring his shoulders. When he takes a step unassisted by the railing his leg immediately wobbles and threatens to give beneath him. Seifer really tries not to laugh about it, swear.
When he moves to Squall's side, pulling him up into his own, there's a moment where his head swims.
Fuck, could Squall not try even a little to not reek up the place? This close it was like standing in a salt lake- what with the combination of his scent and the volume of sweat clinging to his skin.
"How long were you even sitting there waiting to get jumped by something?" Squall's arm tightens around his shoulder, eyes unfocused and trained on the ground beneath his feet.
" 'dunno." He mutters vaguely. If Seifer had to guess, part of his current state was from dehydration. He should take him to Kadowaki...
No. He wanted to see something for himself first. Which was why Seifer was going to drag Squall back to his room; He had some bottled water for whenever he came back thirsty as all hell from midnight training sessions. Which was what this had meant to be until he found Squall. Hydrating him some should do the trick to clear part of the delirium currently clinging to him.
"What time is it?" Squall asks at about halfway to Seifer's room. His head had rolled to rest against the blond's, body lax in a way that was entirely unhelpful given the current objective. Seifer only shrugs, a movement that forces the other to lift his head. Another few minutes of silence and he speaks up again, voice a low whine in the quiet darkness.
"It's too hot..."
"Yeah, well, you're the genius who put on a leather jacket indoors." He can see Squall frown, no, pout out the corner of his eye. Like it was somehow unfair of Seifer to point out the obvious.
Despite the fact he was apparently 'too hot', he pulls himself closer to Seifer and leans even more of his weight onto him. It wasn't like Seifer wasn't strong enough to carry him but he still had Hyperion in hand and carrying both was just not in the cards at the moment. That and the iron tang of Squall's scent was starting to smell a lot like fresh blood instead of drawn metal. It was distracting.
They arrive soon enough to Seifer's room. The two shuffle blindly through the dark until the blond can dump Squall on the floor by his bed, go close the door, and turn on the lights.
The first thing he sees upon the lights being flipped on is Squall peeling his jacket back off, tugging at the neckline of his shirt and panting. A fresh wave of sweat had broken out over his forehead, cheeks, and chest. There's a surge of brine and metal anew and Seifer just knows he's going to have to spend at least a week getting the scent out of all his belongings.
"Quit being dramatic. Here," He tosses a bottle of water snatched from atop his desk to Squall. "Try not to spill it all over yourself."
He apparently can't even catch it; It lands in his lap. His hands fumble shakily as he unscrews the cap and does nearly spill it over himself instead of into his mouth. Rather than watch the pathetic display, Seifer focuses on getting Hyperion back in its case. He's nearly done when Squall asks him something that gives him pause.
"It- Is it supposed to feel this way?" It's strangely vulnerable- from the nature of the question to the slight warble in his voice. Snapping his gunblade's case shut, Seifer turns and leans back against his desk.
"Don't know. Wouldn't know what you're feeling." The full weight of his stare is on the infuriatingly clear expanse of skin on Squall's heaving chest. There's no further attempt at conversation for a moment as Squall tips the bottle back and downs the rest of its contents with several hurried gulps. Tossing it aside, he scoots himself backwards until he can rest his head against the bed.
Seifer may not have known what Squall was feeling but he was curious. Which is why he just... watches, as Squall tries to arrange his limbs in a way that could count as comfortable only to continue to squirm and tug at his clothes with various barely there groans of complaint. At least he seemed more present now that he had some water in his system.
"Took you long enough though. Just had to be the special one. You know," Seifer yanks one desk drawer open to pluck his pocket knife out, flipping it open and starting to pick at the undersides of his nails. "People were starting to think you were just broken or something. That you were never going to present. Like some kind of freak."
That was the truth. Seifer had heard some less than friendly muttering about Squall, especially as of late. He had been personally responsible for making sure most of the malicious slanderers got heavy detention sentences, but as it stood... Late bloomer or not they were all nearing adulthood and it was bizarre that it had taken Squall so long.
The brunet's head falls forward as he glares at Seifer. He holds the glare level, his own gaze impassive. The only sounds between them are the scrape of the knife on Seifer's nails and Squall's breathing.
When Seifer abruptly sets the pocket knife down and lurches forward, Squall is quick to respond by getting to his feet. It's unfortunate then that he staggers as he does so. That Seifer only needs to take a few long strides to close the distance. When he grabs him by the shoulders and starts to wrestle him down onto the bed sheets, Seifer is rewarded with a feral snarl and a punch to the chest. He grits his teeth through the resulting flare of pain even as Squall squirms in his grip and manages to kick him in the thigh.
"Sit still and this will be easier." He grunts, catching and pinning at least one of the other boy's wrists down. Squall's eyes are wild as he bares his teeth and exhales roughly. It was a new look for him as someone who was always so impossibly put together. Even when he got Squall riled up during a spar, goaded him into a fight, his reactions were usually precise and contained.
It's with a soft 'hup' that Seifer finally flips Squall over entirely onto his stomach, straddling his legs. He grabs a fistful of hair on the back of his head and shoves his face down into the pillow. The brunet's whole body goes still and stiff beneath him; His hands are curled like claws into the bed sheets and visibly trembling.
"That's better... Maybe you are an omega, huh?" It comes out cruel and maybe Seifer wanted to be a little cruel in the moment, because he knew that wasn't the case at all. That's why he didn't even bother looking at Squall's front, along the planes of his stomach and pelvis for the the markings that would have proven if he really were a late blooming omega like everyone else seemed to expect. No. Instead he hikes up the back of Squall's shirt until it's pushed all the way up to his neck.
Lo 'n behold.
The patterns are white like old scar tissue, standing out against the flush that was creeping down Squall's neck and shoulders and likely bleeding down to his chest. They continue quite a ways down his spine even, geometric and delicate. Like snowflakes.
"Wow," Seifer laughs blandly. The thought goes nowhere as he runs his hand over the marks. They're raised slightly in their newness. Almost akin to a scabbed tattoo. They'd settle in a few days time, indistinguishable from the surrounding skin except by sight, but for now they were traceable. Tactile evidence of the sickest possible joke the universe could play on a one Seifer Almasy.
Of course Squall was a fucking alpha.
"Get- off." Comes a muffled demand from where said alpha's face was currently stuffed against Seifer's pillow. His body had bowed into the mattress in an attempt to shy from Seifer's touch; Just because he was mad at him, the blond yanks his head back and leans to the side to get a good look at him. He was right. He's blushing down his chest.
"What was that? You say something?" He questions coolly, feigning indifference to the whole situation. Squall looks pissed but also like he's trying way too hard to keep his cool. Seifer can only grimace in vague dissatisfaction before letting go of the locks of hair trapped in his fist and sitting back off Squall's legs. He's quick to flip himself over onto his back but makes no further move. Not to leave, not to retaliate. Nothing.
Squall just stares at him in that same unreadable way he had back in the training center. The pale blue-grey of his irises are nothing more than thin rings around the darkness of his pupils. A muscle near his right eye twitches as he grinds his teeth. Both hands are gripping the pillow beneath his head like its some sort of life line, and there's no missing the way his gaze briefly flicks down Seifer's body.
"Maybe it'd have been better if you'd just been an unpresented freak. You make for a pretty pathetic alpha." It's too far, he knows it's too far, but he's just so mad. Squall's mouth pulls into a tight frown and he turns his face away. His legs pull up, knees locked together, and there's a sour note to the air. The fact he doesn't say anything just serves to make Seifer's pulse hammer harder.
"The least you could do is stand up for yourself. I know you're not some pushover that'll just take anything laying down-"
"It's not like I asked for this." Squall spits the words out fast and it sends a slight shiver down Seifer's spine. He's dimly aware of his own scent in the air at this point, sharp enough to burn against his tongue as he sucks air through his teeth. He wonders if that's why Squall keeps alternating between breathing through his nose and his mouth.
Planting one hand on the headboard of the bed, Seifer looms over Squall with a sneer on his face.
"Don't act so ungrateful. There's plenty of people who'd kill to be in your shoes." Squall's glower is moody and dark.
"What, like you?" That makes Seifer growl. Fair was fair; If Seifer was going to be a dick then it was well within Squall's right to give what he got. That said, he wasn't in the best position to be picking a fight.
Pushing his legs to the side and holding them there, Seifer falls against Squall with his forearm pressed down against his neck. The brunet twists around in an effort to dislodge him and both hands finally unfist from the pillow to instead grab him by the hair and the shoulder.
"Don't you think for a second that you're suddenly hot shit, Squall." His own voice is so thick with venom that Seifer almost can't recognize it, and Squall's face is a perfect mirror of how he sounds as blond strands start to come loose in his grasp.
"I'm not the one with the attitude problem, Seifer." It's then that he manages to shove hard enough at Seifer's shoulder that his forearm lifts off his neck- and he sinks his teeth into him like a goddamn animal. The sharp 'fuck' that leaves Seifer's mouth as a response tapers into a hiss; he yanks his arm back and slaps Squall square across the face.
Squall seems dazed momentarily by the act, blinking dumbly up at Seifer before retaliating by yanking his head down to headbutt him in the mouth. He only narrowly avoids getting his teeth knocked in, instead taking the hit to the side of his jaw. It throbs fiercely but he's sure that it probably doesn't feel much better for Squall either. When Seifer pins him back down by the neck he can't help but laugh.
Despite the bloodied grimace and furious glare Squall had him fixed in, Seifer just grins.
This felt right in a way. It was starting to tickle something in the back of his head that he, beta or not, was the one currently on top of Squall with him immobilized beneath him. Oh, he bet that just infuriated that newly awakened part of the brunet's psyche. In fact Seifer knew it did because he'd never seen Squall look so pissed at him. He'd certainly never been angry enough to fucking bite him before. That was a new low that apparently came with the baser instincts he'd tapped into.
Man, puberty was a bitch, huh?
He can feel the growl Squall releases rumbling beneath where his fingers circle his throat. He yanks at his hair again and Seifer tightens his grip threatening. They sit at an impasse- with neither of them willing to give an inch but both eager to take a mile. Seifer had seen enough hormone driven spats between alphas to know that there was only one way for this to end short of them being miraculously busted by school staff for all the rules they were currently breaking. Either Seifer backed down and showed throat... or Squall submitted.
There was a snowflake's chance in hell that Seifer was backing down.
"Well?" He asks, petty mirth evident in his tone. "You going to fix my 'attitude problem', alpha?"
Squall growls again, louder and deeper than before. When he yanks at Seifer's hair this time it's with enough force that he pulls his head back at a painful angle; It bears the column of his throat and in the moment that the blond's grip on his throat retreats even slightly he surges up to try and sink his teeth in. It's only with a well timed punch to the jaw that Seifer avoids it.
Their struggle begins anew as Squall grabs at Seifer's wrists and they both roll clear off the bed with a thump.
"Ah ah, I don't think so!" It's almost too easy. Squall is sloppy, too tuned into instinct to properly fight- which would be a lot funnier if not for the fact it meant he was trying to mount Seifer. An indignity that's easy enough to avoid as the blond knocks his elbow down between Squall's shoulder blades and grabs both his ankles in one hand.
He yanks his legs up, forcing him to bend at the knee, before holding his feet to his ass. Putting his boot on the back of Squall's neck and pressing down hard serves enough to make him stop thrashing for the time being. All the brunet's weight is on his knees, forearms, and where his face presses into the floor. There's silence between them now; The smell of burning metal wafts in the air, Squall's fury at his current positioning souring his scent.
He gives a grunt and wiggles in a quickly thwarted attempt to kick his legs out of Seifer's hold.
"I'll give it to you, you put up a good fight." Squall never went down without one but it was time for him to throw in the towel- That was if the brunet's brain would let him of course. Even now he was trying to push himself up and carry on.
"Stand down." He not asking nicely. He's not asking at all, actually. The command is accompanied by another flash of stinging cinnamon and Squall's whole body goes rigid before he collapses down into the floor in a panting heap. The pride that swells in Seifer's chest makes him near delirious. It's a fucking rush, and he's so giddy with it that he almost feels like a little kid winning their first pecking order scuffle.
Some fucking alpha this was.
When Seifer stands, detangling himself from Squall's limp body, it's with a burning thrum in his core and a lightness to his mind. He practically flounces over to his desk to retrieve two more bottles of water; He drops one directly onto Squall's head with a smarmy grin. The other is uncapped for himself and he empties half of it in one go.
Squall eventually sits up on his knees. It's with a startling immediacy that his attention locks onto Seifer. He'd started to sweat again during their struggle and the fabric of his shirt stuck sheer to his skin where it had been pressed flush to him. If Seifer was paying attention to such details was his business; He knew he'd gotten pretty rumpled during that fight himself. Likely Squall was taking stock of such things now. He was certain his hair was a gods awful mess at the least; His scalp still stung, tender from how hard Squall had been yanking at his hair.
"What are you looking at?" Seifer asks after a long enough moment had passed that Squall's staring was entering uncanny territory. "Drink your water before I decide to take it back."
He opens his mouth as if to say something- and then immediately closes it. It's without looking away that Squall finally grabs the bottle and cracks the seal open, taking a furtive sip. He's squirming in place again like he can't get comfortable and Seifer can't say he doesn't enjoy it. He hoped this memory stuck to Squall's mind and ego for a long, long time.
It's only when Squall moves in a particular way that makes his thighs rub together and proceeds to let out an aborted whimper around the mouth of his bottle that Seifer puts it together.
He can practically feel his brain shift gears as the whole room seems to come into sharper focus. In the same moment, Squall seems to sense the change and his shoulders hunch up around his ears. When Seifer steps forward and roughly kicks the brunet's legs apart it's a startled cry of protest that is his reward as Squall drops his water bottle and grabs at his pant leg. Water spills out over the carpet.
The grin on his face is deranged, he knows it, can feel it- but the fact Squall has gone and popped a boner is just too rich. It's hard to miss in the confines of the tight black jeans he'd decided to throw on in lieu of the usual leather. The grim mortification on the brunet's face is the cherry on top as he snaps his legs shut around Seifer's foot.
"Are you for real right now?" Perhaps it was unfair to laugh at Squall. His body was a mess of new hormones, and it wasn't like it was unusual for someone to have their first cycle when they presented. Maybe Seifer would have had a little more sympathy if it was a first heat Squall was going through; He probably would have even actually taken him to Kadowaki if that were the case. But no. No, Squall was having his first rut and had apparently gotten all wound up by being forced into submission.
Not even by another alpha either. How terribly rich.
"Don't start." Squall voice falters in his throat even as his grip tightens in the fabric of Seifer's pants.
His mouth feels like cotton; There's a moment, at least, where Seifer wonders if this is too far. He never made it a habit of humiliating Squall- mostly on account of the fact he was constantly trying to drag the other boy up to his level to meet him where he was at, as his senior. At the same time, right now he had Squall practically sitting on his boot and clinging to his leg for dear life. He certainly hadn't made him do that. Maybe it was less a matter of humiliating Squall and more so...
Schooling his expression towards something more neutral, Seifer pushes his foot forward til the toe of his boot meets Squall's erection.
"Ghk-!?" The brunet practically jumps. His eyes snap wide as he looks up in bewilderment only to be met with a tempered stare in turn. When Seifer wordlessly cocks his head in challenge its mostly to avoid his own voice betraying him. Hyne, his heart was pounding like a hammer against the back of his ribs.
It's written plainly across Squall's face that he's trying to make sense of the blond's actions- but the fact of the matter is that regardless of what his head was up to, his body obviously had different plans. His hips had moved forward towards the pressure of Seifer's foot. It takes a concentrated effort not to pounce on him and pin him back to the floor all over again.
This was wildly uncharted territory.
Had Seifer ever even felt any interest in Squall like this before? Sure he'd always been aware that Squall was just unfairly pretty; It was one of those things that always made people sure he was an omega, as prone to stereotyping as most tended to be. He couldn't deny that he did look very pretty, indeed, seated on his boot trying and failing to still the movement of his hips. But, how much of that thought was from how Seifer had been a little too careless about minding the fact that Squall was, for a fact, in rut right now? His head was swimming with it.
"What's up with you? Haven't you got any shame? Hyne, you should see yourself right now. What a mess."
Squall can't even manage to grimace properly what with his mouth hanging ajar as he pants. He's glaring away, at the door, too embarrassed to actually look at Seifer. Not too embarrassed to loosen the death grip he has on his leg though. That just wouldn't do.
"I'm talking to you," Seifer growls as he grabs a fistful of Squall's hair and yanks. "Look at me."
It's with due credit- Squall does try to stop the moan that slips unbidden from his mouth by biting his bottom lip hard enough to bruise. The sound actually startles them both; Seifer becomes acutely aware that for all the flack he was giving Squall right now, his own cock was so hard it was starting to genuinely ache. This was wildly uncharted territory and spiraling out of control fast.
Seifer was losing control fast.
He should stop, he should let Squall go and kick him out to go drag his sorry ass back to his own room, he should stop moving his foot back against the little jerks of his hips and stop staring at the curve of his neck and stop, stop, stop-
It's with a sharp inhale, not having realized that he'd even started holding his breath, that Seifer feels the last of his own self restraint snap.
"Go sit on the bed."
The command doesn't seem to register at first until Seifer pulls back on Squall's hair again and repeats himself, voice thick in his throat and a chore to force out between clenched teeth. The brunet shoves away from him and tugs out of his grasp with a low rumble that's probably meant to serve as some sort of half baked threat. Squall had always hated being 'bossed around', even if between them he was the one that took orders best.
He sits unmoving for several seconds and there's a moment where Seifer is sure this is it- this is where the spell breaks and he gets up and punches him in the face and storms out.
But he doesn't.
Squall slowly, with a grumble that may or may not have been coherent words, starts to crawl backwards until he gets to the bedside. It's only then that he stands up and takes a hesitant seat on the rumpled bedspread. The fact he refused to turn his back on Seifer isn't lost. He can't fault him for that. He wouldn't turn his back on him right now either.
With practiced motions, Seifer slowly takes his belt off. Mostly to buy some time to breath. By now Squall's scent had completely filled the room alongside his own and it was a heady thing- savory in a way that was starting to make his mouth water. They smelled pretty good together, didn't they? He drops the belt unceremoniously after spending a moment to bend the leather between his palms.
Squall was going to put his back to him whether he wanted to or not.
He clamors onto the bed and quickly wraps an arm round the brunet's chest before swinging around to get behind him. Tugging him back flush against him, Seifer makes quick work to jam one leg up between his to keep them open. His own back thumps against the wall as he tightens his hold on Squall- who was squirming enough that he'd all but kicked the blanket clear off the mattress.
"What do you think you're-" Squall doesn't get to finish what he's saying, hoarse voice tapering into another jarring moan as Seifer uses the hand not currently viced around the other's torso to palm at his cock through his pants. His nails dig into his forearm hard enough to leave angry red crescents.
"Let's see if what they say about alphas is true after all, hm?"
When Seifer pops the button on Squall's jeans he immediately freezes. His hands are shaking pretty hard where they're clutching at the arm wound around his chest; Seifer has to pause just to make sure the brunet doesn't flip out and start biting him again. He doesn't, luckily, and instead opens his legs wider of his own volition.
"Don't- Don't laugh." It's a strange request. Seifer knows Squall can't see him raise his brow but does so anyways as he yanks his fly down and starts the arduous task of pushing down damp denim. It's arduous enough in fact that Squall actually has to assist in the process, lifting his hips and pulling the side opposite of Seifer. His jeans are eventually bunched around his thighs and Squall only has his boxer briefs to give him dignity. Which is about the time that a petty anger flares in Seifer's gut again.
Don't laugh. Yeah, o-fucking-kay.
So maybe what they said about alphas had been true because Squall's cock, freed from the stiff prison of his stupidly tight pants, is actually a touch intimidating- and it wasn't even out of his underwear yet. This jackass. No. Seifer doesn't laugh. He sort of wanted to yell at Squall though. How did he go around looking the way he did when he had this stuffed down his pants? Where the fuck did he even put this thing?
"Not bad." Is all Seifer can manage to say, aware his silence on the matter was very clearly making Squall nervous as he tensed against him and tried to close his legs.
Not bad. A stupid understatement. When Seifer hooks a finger in the waistband and pulls it down far enough to free Squall's erection properly, it springs out proudly from its confines. The sweet little sigh of relief that breezes out of the latter isn't enough to placate how mad Seifer is about his dumb dick. From tip to base it has to be at least eight inches and it's about as thick around as a soda can. And yes Seifer was aware alphas were supposed to have bigger dicks to make room for the knot at the base but he hadn't actually gotten his hands on an alpha like this before.
Did the indignities ever stop?
Just for curiosities sake, Seifer wraps his hand around the shaft- and to his abject horror and burning arousal finds that it's thick enough his fingertips just manage to meet. Squall's hips immediately snap up as he thrusts into the curl of his hand, groaning low in his throat. It's not the slickest motion considering all there is to ease it is the precum that he's been dribbling into his briefs for who knows how long.
"I doubt you even know how to use this thing." Seifer scoffs, tightening his grip and slowly dragging his fist up the length of the shaft. Even with a moan still on his tongue Squall has it in him to give a snappy retort.
"Yeah, because I'm sure you're getting so much action." That stings his pride a tad. He certainly had to have more experience than him, Shiva's frigid Prince. He was willing to bet good money he was the first person to touch him like this. Which, actually, makes his own cock twitch where its pressed snugly against Squall's ass.
"Didn't take you for the jealous type, Squall." He deflects instead, giving several short pumps over the weeping head of his dick to slick his palm. That shuts him up pretty fast- or at least keeps him from saying anything intelligible; He lets loose a keening moan that rattles up out of him loud as all hells. His back arches before he practically slams a hand against the wall in a desperate bid for purchase.
"Shit- quiet down or you're going to wake the whole school up!" Seifer hadn't really expected Squall to be so... reactive. He was such a stonewall son of a bitch, his icy veneer rarely ever cracking, that part of him had sort of expected him to be a bit more subdued. Especially seeing as he was an alpha. Maybe that was his own fault for buying into that particular stereotype. He couldn't lie and say it wasn't searingly hot. They also needed to not get caught though or they'd never see the end of the resulting detention.
"Fine, just- don't stop." Oh, fuck.
Seifer has to hide his face in the crook of Squall's neck for his own sake as he tries not to cum in his pants like a damn loser. Against his better judgement, he rubs the line of his jaw against Squall's hair, scenting him as he breathes through his nose carefully. Hyne, it felt like he was losing his mind a little.
Even if he wasn't really in the habit of giving people what they wanted when they asked, Seifer indulges Squall this once. He doesn't bother with any further foreplay or teasing- it was practically useless with the fact Squall's hips kept canting up to fuck his hand anyways. He sets at a fast pace, untucking his free hand from where it'd been against Squall's side to instead cover his mouth. It's a necessary precaution seeing as even after being warned to shut the hell up he can't seem to stop himself from moaning like a whore.
Fuck, why was he hot? He wasn't supposed to be hot, or sexy, or fuckable. None of those things.
An embarrassing groan of his own slips from Seifer as he lets himself grind up against Squall, occupying his mouth immediately with the brunet's exposed neck to keep from making any more damning noises. He really really shouldn't- but Seifer finds himself scraping his teeth across the heated salty skin and before he can stop he's latched on and sucking a blooming hickey right where the whole world will be able to see it.
Squall is going to be pissed about that later he just knows it. Right now though, he groans so loud that the vibrations actually tickle Seifer's palm.
It doesn't take long at all for Squall's knot to start to swell. Each time Seifer's hand comes down over it it forces his fingers apart- and were his mind not completely gone with the wind he would have balked at how something like that was even supposed to fit into another human's body. When he squeezes his grip around it, Squall practically writhes; It's like he's trying to get away from the sensation even as his hips jerk up violently into it. The noise he makes into the palm still clamped over his mouth is downright pornographic on top of that and Seifer curses hoarsely as he rubs his face into the brunet's neck.
"It feels that good, huh? Hah- You wish you were actually knotting someone." The muffled expletive Squall says may very well have been something along the lines of 'fuck', possibly with a 'you' tacked on the end. It might've been 'me' actually. Hard to tell.
Seifer isn't actually prepared for it. When he squeezes his grip past Squall's knot with a slick popping sound, he half expects Squall to cry out with pain when his fist catches on the underside of it with a rough tug as he tries to pull back up. Instead his whole body shakes as his back arches, legs curling as he presses his heels into the mattress, and starts to cum. Seifer's jaw slacks at the display.
Squall's breathing is erratic as he struggles to pull in enough air through his nose, chest heaving with the effort. His shirt had ridden up his body with all his wiggling and squirming around and gave Seifer ample view of the muscles in his abdomen twitching and tightening as thick ropes of cum were lashed over his stomach. His cock was jerking obscenely with each spurt.
Seifer had neglected to remember one tiiiny important detail about alphas: That being that they came like fucking fire hoses.
Each jerk of Squall's hips sees to it that Seifer's closed fist yanks up against his knot, causing him to let out breathless noises sitting somewhere between pain and pleasure. It's not entirely lost on the blond that he's effectively milking the guy at this point; It's as he watches a thick glob of cum slide down Squall's cock, over his knot, and down to his own knuckles that Seifer rather abruptly comes in his pants like a goddamn virgin.
For Hyne's fucking sake.
All he can do is gasp as he goes lightheaded, pressing up against Squall belatedly as he chases the aftershocks. He's not even sure Squall is aware of him humping against his ass considering he's too busy shaking and whining and making a mess of himself. Though Seifer figures he can't really call Squall a mess in good conscience. Pot calling the kettle black and all.
It takes Squall nearly five minutes to stop dribbling cum and another ten until his knot actually goes down. He's completely slack against Seifer and at some point or another the blond's hand had slid off his face to cup loosely around his throat instead.
Not for the first time in his life, and certainly not for the last, Seifer finds himself at a loss of what to say to Squall.
The two of them just lay there in silence for what feels like a small eternity. A not insignificant portion of Seifer's thoughts are currently dedicated to the fact that he had just acted so wildly out of line it wasn't even funny, and was thusly trying to come to terms with the fact Squall could round on him and likely start punching him in the dick at any point in time. He'd probably let him in all honesty. What the fuck had he been thinking? Hyne, right, he hadn't been thinking- at least not with any part of his body above the waist.
When Squall experimentally stretches his legs with a tight groan, Seifer readies himself for worst.
"Ah... Uh... Thanks."
Eh?
The brunet pulls away with a quiet grunt and carefully stands up; He wobbles slightly before finding his center of balance. Most the flush in his face had faded and his pupils had contracted back to an appropriate size for the light level, though there was still a pinkness in the apples of his cheeks that told Seifer that he at least had enough wherewithal to feel at least a little embarrassed seeing as he was covered in his own cum. He can only blink blankly and watch as Squall tucks his spent dick back into his briefs and struggles his pants back up.
"You're... welcome?" This was not the exchange Seifer had been envisioning. Instead he's watching Squall lean to grab his jacket off the floor and start shuffling awkwardly over to the door.
"I'm... going to, uh. Go... Take a, shower." A stilted pause before he blurts out, "Bye."
And he's gone just like that.
Seifer runs a hand, the clean one, down his face in disbelief at the fact Squall just... left. Had thanked him? What the hell was that about? Hyne, he was a weird one. Guess that made them two of a kind. He'd give the guy an hour or so in the showers before going to take one himself. He knew for a fact he reeked of sex and Squall now and neither of them needed the myriad of unwanted questions come morning should anyone catch a whiff of their scents all over each other like this. Damn it.
Frowning at the ceiling, Seifer decides resolutely that he and Squall were never going to talk about this. Not with anyone and most certainly not with each other if that could be helped...
Well, unless Squall was down for a repeat.