Thunder And Roses
By Seshat
DISCLAIMER: All the characters, places etc., are the property of Square, not me (::sniffs::). I'm just borrowing them for my own nefarious purposes. I promise they'll be tidied up, and sent home all clean an' sparkling. 'Thunder and Roses' C.Lindsey/A.Mayo/M.Green (BMI) (Had to change the first 'him' to 'her' for it to make sense, but that's all.)
SUMMARY: Sometimes you can find perfection between extremes. Songfic. PWP. Squall X Zell.
RATING: NC-17
WARNING: **YAOI**. PLEASE HEED THE RATING. THIS FIC FEATURES (fairly) GRAPHIC M/M SEXUAL SITUATIONS. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, PLEASE DON'T READ. If you do, enjoy ;)
ARCHIVE: Want, Ask, Take, Have.
FEEDBACK: YES PLEASE!! I'd really appreciate your thoughts on my work. Read and Review (I'll give you chocolate!). Flame if you feel the need, I can always do with a good laugh.
Thunder And Roses
By Seshat
It's not our first time.
It's just that he knows how to make each time feel new.
And he knows why it's got to be that way.
It's in his arms, his hands, his body, that I'm learning how to let go. He's a patient instructor, always has been, but it's still a painful process.
But he knows that, understands it in a way they never could.
I might not know much about how all this works, but I'm fairly sure that's not meant to frighten me as much as it does.
I was never scared before.
Once I had flowers at sunset, breakfast in bed
And I hated myself for what I never felt
I couldn't love her
It took me a while, but I eventually figured out what I'd been searching for in my fallacy of a relationship with Rinoa.
She was safe.
Being with her was soft, fragile, pure. After everything we'd all been kicked and dragged through, I'd quietly yearned for that. Needed someone who could see the silver lining. She was an innocent romance that I honestly didn't think existed. I was looking for something, someone, who could make me believe in all the extravagant lies I kept hearing. Love. Trust. I'd been drawn to her faith, her optimism, like a junkie to his next fix.
And like that brief rush, the relief was temporary, and achingly hollow. I couldn't keep lying to her, couldn't keep pretending there was ever going to be anything between us. Even when a part of me desperately wished there could be.
She saw the silver lining, I just saw another storm, and shut down my defences accordingly.
It's the only thing I know.
Even now, I still find myself wondering where Seifer is, whether he's alive, whether he's safe.
He'd laugh in my face if he had any idea of my concern.
He always did before.
And I had fire at midnight
Passion that brought tears to my eyes
It was like a joke I couldn't get enough
But he didn't love me
It was never gentle, never sweet, hardly pure, but it did make me feel. I don't think I've ever felt so alive as I did when I was with him. Every kiss ripped the myth of love apart, every rough fuck shoved trust a little further out of my grasp. But it didn't matter. He might have destroyed the innocence, but he did introduce me to passion, to desire, to wanting just for the sheer hell of it.
I can't quite hate him for that.
That's probably the one thing Zell can't understand. Maybe it's just too preposterous for him to comprehend. Or maybe he just doesn't want to, maybe he isn't comfortable with the idea that anyone else could ever make the Lion of Balamb purr.
And scream. And cry. And hurt.
Maybe even love. If I knew what that was. If either of us did.
But that's just one more thing Zell can teach me.
And I need him to try.
And he does. With the gentle coaxing of his lips, the tender persuasion in his fingertips, he's making me believe.
He knows that it's on nights like this that even I need to stop thinking, just for a little while.
I want to be safe and warm
In a beautiful storm
With somebody who shakes me
And knows how to take me away from this world
He laughed at me, the first night we made love. Jokingly accused me of ruthlessly analysing every touch, and broke into a fit of giggles when I blushed at his accuracy. Laughed, then proceeded to overload my mind with sensation, forcing it to shut down until I was relying on nothing but simple instinct.
I recognise that look now, sparkling in the depths of bright blue eyes. The look that tells Inner-Squall to shut the fuck up, or face the consequences.
I really like the consequences
It's strange, the way the Universe seems to condense around us, everything fading except the points of contact between his body and mine. Everything's so damned acute, so real, and I can't even step outside it all, like I did before. I used to be able to detach my mind from my heart so easily, take an objective look at pleasure, noticing how fleeting it actually was.
He doesn't let me do that. It's not as though I haven't tried. I just can't.
I've learnt that all I can do, is accept the onslaught.
I want to know why I can't have both
Someone that soothes my heart, burns my soul
Something I can trust but I can't control
All I need is someone who brings me thunder and roses
His kisses are beautiful, just like him. He could fuse his lips to mine for eternity, and I still don't think I'd get my fill. A heady cocktail of little nibbles, licks and strokes, a deliberate allusion to things he could be doing to other parts of me.
My fingers have already seen to it that his hair is gravity-defying no longer. It brushes against my skin, faithfully following the warm, wet trail left by his kisses. His right hand entwines with my left, as he brings the other to rest on my thigh.
My eyes are closed, but I know he's watching me. Waiting for that moment when I panic, when I realise that my control is slipping out of my iron grip, and snatch it back, lock it away. It happened all the time at the beginning, not so often now.
Not tonight.
Not when I can feel his breath, cool and steady, against my erection.
I squeeze his hand lightly, and that's all the encouragement he needs.
Soft kisses take on a distinctly teasing direction, when his tongue darts out, probing swiftly but thoroughly into the slit at the tip.
Hyne knows, Squall Leonhart does not shriek. But when Zell does things like that, I give it some serious consideration.
I fight back the urge to thrust up and meet him halfway, as his parted lips leisurely slide down the length of my shaft. My free hand tangles mercilessly in his hair. Maybe I'm a little rough, but he rarely minds.
I can feel the sweat tingling from every pore, sense that sweet tension building, as his tongue sweeps across every sensitive inch, and he rewards my restrained moans by drawing me in, just a little harder.
It's enough. For a second, I give in to the electric shudders racing through my body, a thrill that can even leave Inner-Squall speechless.
That's the problem with perfection. There's nothing left that needs analysing.
When I eventually look down at him, his chin is resting on my stomach, and he's smiling back at me, his gaze warm and open.
"I love you, baby"
He's the only one who's ever said that to me.
And meant it.
I can't bring myself to say the words back. Not yet. It doesn't mean I don't feel them, butif I tried to explain the way he makes me feel, I know I'd fail spectacularly. I'm a verbal klutz, he knows that as well as I do.
Candles that burn all night
A lover that looks into my eyes
A man that loves me and knows how to touch me everywhere
I reach down, my fingers trembling a little as I trace his tattoo. He leans into the touch, like a petted cat, eyes closing lazily.
I want him. I need him.
I always imagined those things were mutually exclusive, until he showed me otherwise.
Hands back in his hair, I drag his lips up to mine, searching his eyes for the things I'm completely sure I'll find.
Desire. Trust. Passion. Innocence.
I used to like being alone, it was the only time I ever felt I could be me. Lately, I feel the bittersweet tug of loneliness when we've been apart for more than an hour.
That frightens me too.
I shift my hips, and wrap my legs around his waist. He manoeuvres in my arms, as he tries to reach for the bottle of lubricant we left on the table by the bed. But the want, the need, is demanding appeasement now. There's a concerned look in his eyes when I pull him closer, wriggling a little until I can feel the tip of him pressing against me.
"Squall!" He gasps, eyes fluttering shut. "Baby, I don't want to hurt you"
I just kiss him, my breath hitching as he instinctively thrusts into me, gently. He still looks at me as though I might shatter in his hands, so I whisper;
"Then don't say no"
It does still hurt, even if it's only a sudden, biting pain. I like it, in an odd way; it's practically the only thing that can ground me, that can keep the knowledge that the man I love is inside me, from being completely overwhelming.
He makes love like he fights. Precise, aware, mesmerising. In bed, as in battle, he has a grace that somehow eludes him the rest of the time.
When he's sure he isn't causing any unnecessary pain, his thrusts become faster, deeper, hitting the place inside me that makes my vision dissolve into starburst, and makes me cry out his name, in a voice I barely recognise as my own.
Maybe that's what scares me. That if I give in to this, accept his love, allow myself to love him in returnwould I even recognise what was left of who I was?
I want to know why I can't have both
Someone that soothes my heart, burns my soul
Something I can trust but I can't control
All I need is someone who brings me thunder and roses
Rinoa wanted my protection, wanted to change me to suit her fantasies. Her Knight
Seifer wanted my submission, used my pain to try and change himself. His plaything.
Zell just wants me.
And that's a part I have no idea how to play.
I wanted the best of both worlds, but now that I'm there, I don't know where to go.
He's close. His strokes get harder, his breathing shallow. My blood feels as though it's turned into liquid fire, my angel burning me deeper than the flames of hell ever could.
My angel. My Zell.
He doesn't have to touch me, that thought alone is powerful enough to let my orgasm batter brutally at the last shreds of my reserve.
He comes moments later, his mumbled declarations of his love for me filling the musky air, as the physical proof of his emotions fills my body.
He's still murmuring unconditional endearments as he sleepily wraps me in his arms, pulling the slightly damp blanket over us.
I might be hopelessly lost in my perfect world, but at least I have him to guide me.
Before I fall asleep, I can almost swear I see Inner Squall smirking smugly at me.
~ * ~ fin ~ * ~
Authors Notes:
Pointless, plotless, quite possibly so damned sweet you might want to brush your teeth after reading. Written more or less in one sitting. Sorry, but since 'Keepers' is getting so damn intricate, I felt like I was cheating you out of smut that's rightfully yours. ^_<. I'm not really sure where this came from. I don't usually get Squall and Zell as a couple (although that doesn't stop me reading 'em, or writing 'em!) , but in this case they just seemed to fit. This was meant to be a no-nonsense fluffy little PWP, but Seshat's feeling a little fragile right now, so there's a wee bit o'angst in there too. ^_^,
Please review, cheer me up. Thankies.