InsaneJournal

“Why are you so obsessed with my belts?” Squall asked as Seifer pulled one of them tight about his wrists. He was sprawled back against the arm of the sofa, arms pressed above his head. His jacket and shirt were gone, his pants soon to follow if the blond straddling his thighs could stop getting sidetracked by his belts.

Seifer removed another one. “Are you kidding me? You wander around with all those belts hugging your ass, in a jacket short enough to make sure everybody can see them. If it wouldn't be punishing myself, I'd demand you stop wearing them.” The last belt slid free; he draped it over the back of the sofa, beside the other one.

“Jealous?”

“That ass of yours belongs to me, Squally-boy.” Seifer smirked. “'Course, I could always use one of those belts of yours to ensure you remember it.” He picked one up, folded it in half and smacked it meaningfully against the palm of his hand.

“You wouldn't dare.” The words held little conviction or even outrage. Seifer had spanked him during sex before, although previously he'd only used his hand. And it hadn't been... unpleasant, although Squall would never admit to such a thing. If he told the blond he'd enjoyed being spanked, he'd never hear the end of it. And there was no telling what he'd come up with next, either.

“Wouldn't I?” The smirk grew wider, but he put the belt back down.

“I use them to store ammo and other items,” Squall insisted. “Not... that.” Admittedly, they were free of any additional pouches or accessories today, but that was because he'd spent all day in the office, and hadn't needed any of them.

“Then I guess the fact that they have such wonderful potential for bondage is just a bonus.”

“You're such a pervert.”

“I don't hear you complaining,” Seifer retorted.

“Actually,” Squall said as he waved his bound hands, his tone a little sulky, “this one's cutting into my wrists.”

“Like a little pain is going to bother you,” Seifer snorted, but Squall noticed he still leaned forward, reaching up to slide a finger between his wrist and the belt, checking to see if it was too tight.

When he looked down again, Squall was wearing a smirk of his own.

Seifer flushed, as if embarrassed by his own show of concern. “You're full of it, Leonhart.”

“I'm certainly hoping to be full of something soon, but somebody keeps delaying things.” The crude remark made the ex-knight snicker.

“You know, if I told anybody else about your low sense of humour, they'd never believe me.”

A sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh escaped Squall as Seifer freed his erection from the tight confines of his pants. It slapped against his stomach as Seifer moved back to work the tight fabric down his legs. “I guess you're just special.”

“You'd better believe it.” The pants came free and were tossed aside. Squall followed their trajectory with a small frown. He wished Seifer would be a bit more careful with his clothing. Would it hurt for him to put them down somewhere, tidily?

“Heh. I have an idea.”

Squall looked back in time to see Seifer grab his legs and push them together. A belt was looped about his lower thighs and fastened securely.

“What -”

“Relax, Squally-boy, you'll enjoy this,” Seifer purred. Then he laughed. “When haven't you enjoyed it?”

“Smug basta-” The rest of the word disappeared into a startled exclamation as the larger man flipped him over. If there was one thing that annoyed Squall about Seifer, it was that he always had been, and likely always would be, physically stronger than him.

That, and the fact that he was an arrogant prick.

The change in position left him resting on his elbows, bound hands pushed up against the sofa arm, and his ass in the air. The fabric, while comfortable enough against his back, proved just a little too rough in texture for the sensitive flesh of his cock, and he squirmed a little, trying to alleviate the unpleasant friction. But that only succeeded in raising his ass further, and he stopped, disgruntled at being placed in such an undignified position.

“Somebody's eager for it.” Seifer's hand came down on his exposed flesh in an open-handed smack.

Squall hoped he hadn't noticed the way his breath caught as the blow landed. “Somebody thinks somebody else should stop fooling around and get on with it,” he growled. He could feel the heat radiating from the hand-print on his ass.

The blond paid his words little attention. Instead, he ran a finger over the reddened skin. “You have no idea how tempting it is, seeing you with your ass on offer like this. I bet it'd look real pretty with some bright red stripes across it.”

Squall tensed, not sure he was all that happy with the idea of Seifer whipping him with one of his belts even if he did like things a little rough sometimes. But the blond just tapped the glowing hand-print and said, “Ah, well, some other time.”

The brunet craned his head around as Seifer stood up, alarmed. But it seemed like he was just getting undressed. Once he was naked, he scooped up the bottle of lubricant from the coffee-table, and settled behind him once again.

Squall hissed in outrage as cold liquid dribbled down between his cheeks, but his protest was cut off as Seifer's fingers followed, rubbing against his entrance. A muffled noise that sounded far too needy came out instead.

“You like that?”

He could hear the smirk in Seifer's voice as he tugged him up and back a little more, settling with one knee on either side of his legs. The finger dipped down to rub cold fluid against his balls before sliding back up to dip inside him. It wasn't easy.

“See, you're tight like this. Can't spread your legs for me, can't open up as much. I have to force it.” And he did just that, two fingers shoving inside as Squall gave a startled yell. The fingers twisted, and he panted, resting his head against his bound arms as he tried to maintain a little composure. He could feel the hard shape of the buckle pressing against his forehead, the cool metal gradually warming. The fingers moved again, and his hips jerked, helplessly.

“You like that, don't you?”

There was a cruel edge to Seifer's voice, but Squall had always accepted the fact that Seifer would never be a nice guy, not by most people's standards. He had his good points, and it was probably his own perversity that made Squall sometimes list this amongst them. A third finger joined them, corkscrewing roughly as they attempt to stretch his opening. He pushed back against them, but it was futile: with his legs together like this, they couldn't reach that deep.

“You want more?” Seifer asked. “Don't worry, it's coming. If you're this tight around my fingers, I can't wait to feel your ass gripping my cock.”

The fingers were pulled free. Something bigger nudged its way between his cheeks, pushed up against his abused entrance. Squall tried to concentrate on his breathing, but couldn't quite stop the sounds that escaped him as Seifer pushed his way in.

“Fuck,” Seifer swore as he worked his cock in with short, forceful thrusts. It was a little painful and at the same time Squall felt more full than he could remember being in a long time. It seemed like it was all too soon before his muscles relaxed, accepting the intruding flesh. Then Seifer began to move.

It was almost frustrating for Squall, as he realised the blond couldn't get the depth he usually did, and that he had very little leverage in this position. But if he did hold still, the head of Seifer's cock grazed over his prostate with each thrust.

“Seifer,” he gasped. “Do something.”

“Like what?” Seifer grunted.

“Touch me.”

“Beg,” the blond taunted. In retaliation, Squall deliberately tightened his muscles, feeling the convulsive jerk of Seifer's hips in response. The ex-knight swore, but he reached around and worked Squall's cock with quick, hard strokes. Squall groaned in satisfaction. It was some ridiculous point of pride for Seifer that his partner always came first.

He did, spilling over callused fingers with a low moan. Another curse word was heard from behind him, and the sudden flood of warmth inside told him that Seifer had followed suit. Squall tried to catch his breath as he waited for the blond to move.

When Seifer did move, it wasn't to pull out of him. Instead, he found himself tugged back onto the blond's lap. He grunted as the move bought him down firmly on Seifer's semi-hard cock.

“So how was that?” Seifer asked, trailing his hand across Squall's chest.

Squall rolled his eyes. Like the other man needed his ego inflated more than it already was. He twisted his lower legs around, trying to find a more comfortable position with them still bound like that, and his calf brushed against something cool and wet.

His eyes narrowed. “You're cleaning the sofa.”