Pairing: Seifer Almasy/Squall Leonhart
Theme: Five stages of Physical Intimacy - touching
AN: Bed for me
He was almost falling asleep when he felt Seifer’s hand on his shoulder.
The touch felt like fire, even through the cotton of his tee-shirt. Ifrit’s heat almost burned his Shiva touched skin and it felt so… right that it took his breath away. Strong, deft fingers trailed along his throat, then departed briefly to brush his hair back out of his eyes and stroke his cheek. Only then did Squall look up at his lover.
Seifer didn’t say a word. Of course, he didn’t have to as he took Squall’s hand, inclining his head towards the bedroom.
And Squall knew the look that Seifer wore intimately. ‘You’re working too hard, baby. Time for a break.’
He followed, the brush of Seifer’s thumb over his knuckles already lulling him towards sleep again. It had been a long day, but they were always long days in command and he didn’t dare try to deny that it was already too much for him.
It didn’t take long to get undressed and slip between their soft sheets.
Squall stretched out on his stomach, sighing in contentment when Seifer curled up next to him. Those hot fingertips trailed along Squall’s spine, ghosting over the blood cross symbol at the small of his back and back up once again to linger, twisting in tight circles around an old scar. A bullet wound from the war. Squall wasn’t entirely sure why he was so enamoured with that particular mark, since Seifer hated guns as much as he did, but the scar had caught his attention the first time they’d slept together again.
Since then he hadn’t been able to resist touching it.
The touch simply made him melt away, his body relaxing as he tried to fight sleep, betraying his urge to stay awake with Seifer and enjoy one of the stolen moments that he couldn’t afford as the garden’s work grew and grew.
Seifer’s hands told him more than words could. Lingering over knots of tension, massaging the pain and stress away as skilfully as when he handled a gunblade, Seifer was his only source of comfort and his greatest ally. Those gentle, but powerful hands could take anything that hurt him away and make everything feel distant and innocent.
Those hands told him how sorry Seifer was for the betrayal of garden, and the pain and torture. Those hands reminded him that he didn’t have to be strong all the time. At least, not any more.
Even though those hands could say a thousand things that Seifer found so difficult to whisper when he wasn’t so tired, there was something wonderful about listening to Seifer whisper, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he whispered in return, watching Seifer’s hand reach up to turn out the light and - so briefly Squall almost believed he had dreamed it – pat Griever the lion and Boco the chocobo on their heads where they sat on the bedside table. His acknowledgement to a promise they should have forgotten long ago.