Sean Olsen
By Mikata
Notes: I had a very hard time trying to classify what I have written. Sometimes, it's easy to say what a story contained. I was looking at the warnings, and I hesitate to pin down some of the warnings there. I didn't want to pin Non-Con to Sean Olsen, because I... don't think that it would suit the piece accurately. I cannot articulate my meaning behind this properly. I just didn't think that it was appropriate. Also, when it comes to violence. I think that label is a little strong for the piece. There is violence, but it seem, according to the guide, that one must explode. Or something. When I put "mild" in front of "violence", it brought the mental image of Seifer kicking fluffy puppies. I don't know how to properly classify it there, either....
I'm just going to leave it at "disturbing content"
Sean Olsen
By Mikata
What’s your lie?
Squall moaned unhappily and buried his face into his pillow, trying to hide from the cheerful rays of sunlight pouring from between the cracks in his blinds. Trying to bury his face still deeper, he thrust his arms over the back of his head, so that he could barely breathe; just the way he wanted it.
/I still have no idea of what I’m supposed to do… I’m no leader. Everybody’s depending on me, but I can’t even depend on myself. I don’t know where to go next, but there are people that depend on me, but I’m still not ready to depend on myself… as much as I want to. I can’t-/ he shook his head against the pillow.
/I can do this. I _can_. I have to. I will./
/I _will_, Damnit!/
Squall’s thoughts were occasionally interrupted by his senses trying to tell him that he was not alone in the room. First it was his sixth sense prickling at the nape of his neck, telling him that he was being watched. /Just my imagination…/ Then the almost imperceptible rustle of clothing. /Did I just hear something?/ Then finally, a faint sigh. /It’s probably Rinoa. If I pretend I’m sleeping, maybe she’ll go away. I don’t want to talk now./
Squall continued to lay there a few moments more, feigning sleep, until finally, he grew tired of waiting for the other to leave.
"Rinoa, I don’t feel like talking. Can this possibly wait?"
The person remained silent, but shifted again, rustling fabric.
Squall’s frown deepened. He had heard too much noise for him to be simply imagining it!
/If it’s Zell or Selphie, I think I’ll just have to kill them…/
"If it’s important, please tell me now. Otherwise, go away."
Still the other was silent, except for another swivel of hips, and the rustling of cotton. Squall listened. It wasn’t receding, but rather, it was in the same spot. Squall started to get up, in order to see the cause of his stoppage of brooding, but he was grabbed roughly by the hair at the nape of his neck and his head was painfully yanked back. He felt the unmistakable sensation of a razor-honed blade sliding ever-so-delicately across his throat, and felt a cold stab of recognition. It was the Hyperion. There was now no doubt in his mind as to who was holding him captive.
Warm lips, a fake smile
Eyes meet, your mind runs wild
Seifer grinned and dug one booted heel into Squall’s back, grinding into his skin until his captive elicited a small admission of pain.
"But Squall, I can’t just leave you alone. You’re just too pathetic. I mean after all, you let your guard down and let me slide into your room. I shudder to think of what might happen to you if one of those Galbadian soldiers got in here. You’re not their favorite person in the world, you understand." His voice was syrupy-sweet, mocking his words of normally good intent.
He took his foot off of Squall’s back and yanked him up by his hair and off the bed, flinging him up against his own body. He replaced the Hyperion back at his throat, while dropping his other arm down and wrapping it firmly around his waist, pinning his arms to his sides.
"I want to ask something of you, Squall." He breathed hotly into his ear. "Do you think you’re up to it?" He slid the Hyperion up his throat, just on the line of puncturing the soft skin, forcing Squall’s head up to make their eyes meet.
"What if I say no?" he asked, looking hard into Seifer’s eyes.
This game we play I like in a way
"Then, I think I’ll just have to take it anyway."
He breathed into Squall’s ear. Squall grunted angrily and began to attempt pulling Seifer’s hand away from his throat. Seifer threw Hyperion aside, and looked down at his captive. He grabbed Squall’s chin in his hand and forced their lips to meet. His other hand slid up into Squall’s shirt, greedily hovering over the expanse of flesh. Seifer pulled his mouth away after stealing Squall’s breath and smirked again.
"Squall, you’re pathetic." He said again, his grin widening.
"Fuck you. I’ll scream. I don’t give a damn what you think."
"But you do care what _they_ think, don’t you Squall?" He breathed out, almost excited with the prospect of what he was planning to say next. "You wouldn’t want the Chicken in here, watching you writhe in my arms, your head upturned needily for my lips… or how about the instructor, trying to get into your dorm, and hearing you panting from under the door, crying out my name like the little bitch that you are. You fear that judgment, don’t you? That look of shock and horror that wouldn’t go away… and Chicken would scream loud enough for _all_ of Garden to hear… they could all judge you, too."
Squall remained silent, stung by the truth in his words.
"Is anything going on in there?" Seifer asked cruelly. His hand slid up Squall’s shirt slowly, riding over the taunt muscles in his stomach.
"You had an awful lot of time to plan this, didn’t you?"
Seifer growled and he squeezed Squall’s throat with his palm hard enough to make him wheeze, but not enough to make him actually start choking.
"What do you think?" He asked savagely into his ear, punctuating his sentence with a nearly painful bite to the earlobe. Squall glared silently, not allowing Seifer the pleasure of hearing him gag.
You expect to grab a child
Squall reached around angrily and tried to gain some purchase against Seifer, flailing up, trying to reach his eyes. Seifer let go of his neck, batting the hands away. The other hand gave a nipple a painful, shocking twist. Squall gave a startled grunt and tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t allow it. The agonizing pull on the engorged flesh continued, until Squall relented and dropped his hands away from Seifer’s eyes. He tried to bat the questing hands aside, but they eluded his grasp, skirting out from under his fingers, and attacking other parts of the sensitive expanse of his chest. Seifer leered down at Squall while his hands explored his soft skin. Despite his best efforts not to, Squall let a small moan slide from between his dry lips, an unwitting plea. Seifer’s smile widened a little, and he reached his mouth down to capture Squall’s.
You think I’m innocent, not wild
Squall tried to pull his head away, twisting and writhing in his grasp. Seifer bit down on Squall’s tender lip. There was a warning edge to the nip, as if daring him to attack. At that same moment, his hand reached the front of Squall’s pants, and gave the leather a slow, agonizing tug. Squall bucked into his palm, startled. His dusky blue eyes flashed angrily as Seifer kept smiling his cocky smile. His mouth opened wide, and in turn, bit Seifer back, drawing blood from the soft tissue.
Take me and see how much I’m tame
Seifer growled deep in his throat as Squall bit through the flesh of his lip. Wildly, he spun Squall around. Squall clung to his upper arms, trying to keep balance as his delicate feet in their big heavy boots stumbled around Seifer’s. Seifer pressed his advantage, and threw him onto the bed, dropping himself on top of the form stretched elegantly beneath.
He spun the twisting form beneath him around, tangling their bodies hopelessly together in one writhing surge of flesh, swathed in skins and cotton amongst the disturbed bed sheets.
Everybody listen while I think of all I know,
How to live for sure - body wall into my precious soul.
He grabbed Squall’s wrists, seeking to keep them pinned above his head as they kissed. It wasn’t a kiss, so much as it was a dark, desperate burning internal fire to make the two bodies as one; to make Seifer the one to partake of his rival: The final, and most absolute victory over his opponent.
More finality than their scars could ever give him. Much more satisfying, too. The very word make the hair on the back of Seifer’s neck rise with anticipation. Domination. Seifer was determined to show Squall just what domination meant before the night had fallen.
Squall turned his face away from Seifer’s questing lips, his own curling back, baring teeth. As Seifer’s teeth met with the morsel of Squall’s ear, Squall’s met with the coarse fabric of Seifer’s trench coat as he bit into the hard shoulder underneath.
I'll show you fears
Pleasure pain is my control.
Seifer propped his body up, pulling up Squall’s with him. He let go of Squall’s wrists, replacing his hands on the shoulders of Squall’s jacket. He ripped it off of Squall’s shoulders savagely, throwing it across the room in a careless thrust. Squall’s eyes locked with his defiantly, their depths cold and hard. Seifer shrugged out of his coat, then slammed his body against Squall’s; knocking it back down against the bed roughly. The springs squealed angrily as Seifer thrust himself against Squall, driving him against the headboard. His hands fluttered like birds across his torso, sometimes scratching his tender skin through his thin plain tank top, sometimes skimming across the sweat screened flesh with enough force to bruise it. His hands clasped around the hem of the shirt and ripped it away, leaving Squall bare. His lips dipped hungrily into the curve of his neck where his collarbones met, and he sucked at the wet salty skin into an angry purple bruise. His hands slid up Squall’s delicately muscled arms, until they clasped Squall’s own in a mockery of intimacy. Squall threw his head from side to side, attempting to divest himself of Seifer’s presence.
Seifer propped himself up on his elbows, forcing Squall’s arms to move with his. He freed one of his hands, and with a devilish grin on his face, he tweaked a pallid rosy nipple brutally. Squall’s breath puffed out of his chest in a sharp, high-pitched cry; his body flinching upwards. Seifer’s voice rumbled in his throat meditatively, his eyes focused on his chest. He slowly slid his body down against Squall’s, giving a quick thrust against Squall’s hips as his own passed over. Squall moaned, the sound almost lost in his throat.
With a special, mocking care, Seifer slid his head down Squall’s chest, rubbing his cheek against the hardened and now ruddier nipple affectionately. He turned his head, brushing his lips across the paradoxically velveteen, adamantine, nipple tenderly. From between his dry lips, his tongue slid out of hiding to play. Squall, no longer fighting, could only lay back and moan softly once more.
Let your body lay in there
Warm flesh to your fear.
"Mmm… That’s right, Squall. Just lay back…" Seifer said, breathing hot air across Squall’s nipple. Squall’s biceps twitched, a faint struggle, subdued by Seifer’s strong hands, holding his back. Seifer moved his lips in a long wet trail towards the other side of his chest, taking time to flick his tongue across the other nipple, starting to harden from the cold air seeping into the room from the window, cracked open to the spring air. Squall’s voice rang out softly again as his head turned to the side, and his eyes fluttered shut, his thick cimmerian lashes brushing across his pale cheeks.
Warm lips, a big smile.
Hatred runs through your insides.
"No no, Squall." Seifer said, looking up for a brief moment, "you’re not going to close your eyes and make _believe_. I’m right here, and I ain’t going to be gone when you open your eyes, _Squall-_."
Squall did not open his eyes. If he even heard Seifer, his face did not belie it.
This game you play - intimidation each day.
Seifer pulled his hand free of Squall’s violently, grabbing his face instead. He twisted it forward to face him, not caring if he bruised the soft skin.
"Look at me when I’m talking to you, damnit!" he hissed.
Squall opened his eyes, and turned to look out the window with a look of disinterest, as if he was just watching the instant replay. Seifer’s eyes blazed. His little plan wasn’t going as well as it should be. He slapped Squall hard, knocking his head sideways violently. He reached down to the seat of Squall’s pants and gave another hard squeeze. Squall gave a sharp cry of pain, but Seifer, undaunted, started tugging loose Squall’s belts.
You think it's all a lie (all a lie)
They want to destroy your life.
Anger twisted your life into pain
Seifer pulled the belts free, just leaving them underneath of Squall as he worked on freeing him from the leather pants that molded perfectly to his finely muscled thighs. His lips reached upwards again, catching Squall into another deep, searing kiss. Squall’s arms reached up, and tentatively wrapped themselves around the expanse of Seifer’s strong back, holding on weakly as his lips parted for Seifer’s probing tongue.
I wish I could take control.
I wish I could let go.
Seifer’s lips curled back into a smile against Squall’s, finally breaking his pants open. He pulled them down roughly, pulling them off of his ankles to land in a pile at the side of the bed, covering his boots, which had fallen with an audible thud. His hands crept inside of Squall’s modest briefs, consuming everything that they could. Seifer pulled the underwear down until that too, was gone, leaving Squall completely stripped bare and ripe for the taking.
I wish I could break this mold.
Inside I'm so fucking cold.
Seifer stroked Squall’s arousal, half-hard from stimulation with a callused, dry palm. Squall moaned into Seifer’s open mouth, biting down on the lower lip hard enough to make it bleed. Seifer pulled his tender flesh away from him, and, cheek to cheek, whispered into Squall’s ear: "I win…", punctuating his sentence with a quick nip to his soft earlobe.
I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming on you...
I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming on you…
Seifer’s hands stroked Squall’s erection again, his fingertips feathering the base. Squall’s hardness slowly rose under his fingers, despite the pained look on his face as he tried to hold himself back.
I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming on you...
I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming on you...
Seifer bit into the soft skin of Squall’s neck, his tongue riding over the pulse as it quickened. Squall’s arms wrapped around Seifer’s back again, now more firmly, his fingernails digging furrows into his back.
Warm glance, a fake smile.
Eyes meet, your mind runs wild.
Squall threw his head back as Seifer’s fingers brushed across the head, dripping with fluid. He smeared it around as far as it would allow, while his other hand snaked between his thighs, spreading them apart. Squall thrusted upward helplessly, his forehead banging roughly against the plywood headboard. His eyes were focused on the top of Seifer’s head as he continued to feed off of the supple skin of Squall’s throat. He continued to lap at it hungrily, seeking nourishment that only it could provide.
This game you play I like in a way.
Seifer looked up at Squall, a trail of saliva trailing down from between his lips. He watched, his eyes clouded with anticipation as he stroked the hardness beneath his fingers. He sped up, making Squall cry out louder, his breath more ragged, his tone more desperate. The other hand had managed to spread Squall’s legs as wide as they would go, one hanging uselessly off the bed, the other pressed against a wall. Seifer squeezed his balls, running his thumb against the seam where they began methodically. Squall made a loud, keening cry, pulling his chest tight against Seifer’s. The fabric from his shirt, coarse rough against Squall’s sore nipples, made him only the hotter for it.
"I thought you weren’t supposed to be enjoying this." Seifer said questioningly, his lips bleeding lips brushing against Squall’s.
You expect to grab a child
You think I'm innocent not wild.
"Shut up, Seifer. Isn’t it enough that you-" Squall let out a strangled moan as Seifer rubbed his thumb over the head of Squall’s hardness. "Isn’t this enough for you?"
"Not until I know that I’ve won, Squall." Seifer said evenly, with a levity that was almost comical, given the circumstances.
"Tough shit, Seifer. I’m not going to concede to you!" Squall said, his voice almost convincing. The edge in it, however, that desperation, that need; it made Seifer smile cruelly.
"We’ll see, Squall." He said, pressing his lips against Squall’s once more.
Take me and let's see how much I'm tamed.
Squall’s resistant lips curled upwards into a ghost of a smile as Seifer’s hands moved almost clumsily along Squall. He lifted his leg, hanging limply off of the bed off the bed slowly, pressing his bare thigh against the juncture between Seifer’s legs. He wiggled his hips, rubbing it against his hardness, concealed still in his pants. Seifer, unprepared for the stimulation, moaned deeply into Squall’s mouth.
Everybody listen while I become all I know.
How to live for sure - body wall into my precious soul.
Seifer pulled away quickly, shoving Squall against the headboard violently.
"So you want to forego all of this, do you?" Seifer asked in a rough harsh whisper.
Before he could let Squall answer, he pinned Squall’s wrists against the wall. Kicking Squall’s thigh out from between his legs, he pressed his calves down on Squall’s thighs, pinning his legs apart wide. With his free hand, he trailed his index finger down his sweaty chest, stomach, and through the patch of curly brown hair below. He moved his finger down the curve of an inner thigh, and drew his finger upwards to meet the curve of Squall’s ass.
I'll show you fears,
pleasure pain is my control.
Squall began to struggle away from the finger, jerking helplessly. Seifer leaned forward, deliberately crushing Squall’s hardness between them to brush his lips over Squall’s mockingly. As his finger teased Squall’s entrance, he rubbed his belly up and down, scraping his pants against Squall. Squall gasped, throwing his head back uncontrollably. Seifer kissed the flesh offered to him, sucking on the already bruised skin.
Let your body lay in there, warm flesh to your fear.
Seifer slid his finger inside slowly.
"Shh…" He commanded, "just lay back, that’s right. Let _me_, Squall."
Squall tried once to move again in protest, unable to really move. Seifer pressed his cheek against Squall’s, in flouting affection. He rocked himself against Squall’s body again, eliciting a soft, quavering sigh.
"Such an innocent…" Seifer murmured into his ear. "You can be almost… sweet when you do that."
"I’ll keep that in mind." Squall said breathlessly.
I wish I could lose control.
I wish I could let go.
Seifer’s finger slid up into Squall’s probing his soft inner walls. He pressed a finger against something inside Squall that made him cry out helplessly and buck upwards into Seifer’s stomach.
"Enjoying yourself?"
Squall glared. "You son of a- aaaaahhnn!" he cried as Seifer stroked his insides again.
"Excuse me, what did you say? I can’t understand you!" Seifer hissed convivially.
Squall glared at him stonily, his lips pressing shut, threatening to disappear into his hot, wet mouth.
I wish I could break this mold
Inside I'm so fuckin' cold.
Seifer’s finger was joined by another, stabbing in and out of Squall, bringing to the knife’s edge of completion, then letting him dwindle back, all the while biting and tearing at the soft pulse in Squall’s neck.
Weapons inside so the truth unfolds.
Seifer pulled his fingers out quickly, and he looked up at Squall, his eyes black like leaves at midnight. He leaned forward, and kissed Squall’s ruddy lips again, sucking on the tender lower lip gently.
His hand reached to unzip his fly, which he did clumsily, freeing himself of his confines. Squall lay back, his eyes focused on the ceiling, waiting for him with the patience of a lamb.
Or a wolf in lamb’s clothing.
Seifer shifted off of Squall’s aching thighs, kneeling between his parted legs. He carefully lifted them both across his shoulders, his hands trembling ever so slightly.
/Seifer’s been showing his weakness since before he pulled my pants off, but now he’s _really_ being obvious…/ Squall thought, his eyes concentrated on Seifer’s, extending a dangerous invitation.
The smirk returned, as though Seifer was planning his deathblow.
I am done.
That was so fun.
This was real.
Seifer spat into his palm, and quickly rubbed this mixture of saliva and blood onto his hardness quickly. Without warning, Seifer plunged in, sheathing himself fully within Squall in one hard, fast thrust. Squall screamed hoarsely, and Seifer let go of Squall’s captive wrists and pulled him up, cradling his head in one hand. Squall’s hands moved up and around Seifer shakily, and he pulled himself as close to Seifer as his body would allow.
How'd it feel?
Seifer paused, and after a moment shifted against Squall’s spot. Squall let out a shuddering gasp, and pushed against Seifer, pushing him deeper. Seifer grinned wickedly again, his confidence restored, and pulled out, hovering just above the entrance, before plunging back in.
What's comin', what's comin', what's comin' on you?
Squall’s nails raked across Seifer’s back, re-opening the freshly healed welts, and tearing new skin as he puffed breathy moans into his ear.
What's comin', what's comin', what's comin' on you?
Seifer thrust deeper, his pace and his control waning at the hot mewlings in his ear. A trembling hand snaked around, stroking Squall’s hardness, pressed between their bodies.
What's comin', what's comin', what's comin' on you?
"Squall…"
What's comin', what's comin', what's comin' on you?
Seifer kissed every inch of flesh available to him, as if trying to memorize it with his lips and tongue. His fingers clutched at Squall’s hardness as he pressed into Squall.
"Damn it, Squall…" he growled into the tender shoulder, bitten, kissed and loved raw.
He loved Squall.
When exactly had it happened? Why was he here, doing this, then?
Are love and domination the same? Does one lead to another?
Does this desire, this passion that drive them both, whether fighting or fucking, speaking out, or holding in; is it love?
Or the need for one to dominate the other?
I'm comin', I'm comin', I'm comin' on you...
Seifer looked deep into Squall’s dark eyes, looking for something there in their blue-black depths. He saw the never-ending, impenetrable storm, the swirling hurricane.
The Squall.
Seifer pressed into him harder, seeking his warmth, his climax rising like a tidal wave, not yet crested.
I'm comin', I'm comin', I'm comin' on you...
Squall clenched his inner muscles, grappling Seifer in. It was his final act of defiance for the day. Seifer could have his petty victory, in stead, Squall could say that he would win the war.
Seifer moaned loudly into Squall’s shoulder, and the hand grasping his hardness sped up, trying to make Squall reach completion before he did.
Squall came against Seifer’s stomach, his voice hoarse, his body tense, then slack, as the waves of pleasure ran through him. Seifer leaned forward, bringing Squall’s head up with the hand cradling it, and kissed his lips with a restrained sort of passion. He wrapped his other arm around Squall, his hand running across Squall’s back.
I'm comin', I'm comin', I'm comin' on you...
Seifer gave one final thrust, and came deep within Squall. He very nearly proclaimed his love for Squall then and there, but managed to keep it locked within his throat.
But Squall still saw it. In his eyes, though he could not tell what it meant. He just knew that in the test of wills, his had won out.
Seifer pulled himself out of Squall, and laid back down on the bed. He hastily zipped himself up, and sat on the side of the bed, watching Squall drift off to sleep, the lines on his face slackening. He sat there, long after Squall had fallen asleep, knowing sadly that he could not be there when he woke up.
I'm comin', I'm comin', I'm comin' on you...
*Owari*
addendum to follow (maybe)