New

by scribblemoose

His nose was cold.

His nose was cold, the air smelt clean and wintry, and he was in bed.

Squall rubbed his nose, and burrowed further under the covers, nuzzling into the soft body next to him.

What the fuck?!

Squall's eyes flew open, and tried in vain to focus on the reddish-brown something in front of them.

Hair. It was hair. It was Irvine's hair.

Irvine.

Oh.

Squall moved away, almost falling off the edge of the narrow bed in the process, and stared at Irvine's shoulders, and the russet mane that streamed over his pillow. It came back to him in a rush. Tinsel. The party, and taking a risk he'd never thought he'd take again. Playing in the snow like a five year old, pelting Zell with snowballs and holding Selphie's arms still so Irvine could shove the freezing stuff down the back of her dress; she giggling uncontrollably, letting herself be rendered defenceless.

And then he and Irvine had slipped away, and cuddled together for warmth, and kissed and stroked but Irvine had fallen asleep before they got any more serious than that, which felt good, because it was as if the kissing never really stopped.

Squall's heart pounded in his chest.

What had he done? What kind of crazy -commitment? - had he made last night, when he decided he wasn't going to wait for Rinoa any more, and that Irvine made him feel good and feeling good wasn't a sin... when he'd walked into that party, in front of the whole of Garden, and claimed Irvine as his?

Everyone. Everyone knew. There was no going back.

Squall swallowed hard, fighting panic.

Irvine shifted, half-waking, turning onto his back, and then drifted back to sleep. There was a tiny smile on his face. Even comatose, he looked as happy as Squall remembered from last night.

Happy and beautiful.

The panic melted, just a little. Squall propped his head on one elbow, and tentatively reached out for a strand of russet to twirl around his finger.

What had he done?

He'd made a promise he couldn't keep, that's what. However vague he had been last night in his declaration of whatever this feeling might be, he'd led Irvine to believe that they would be together, in some way or other. He shouldn't have. He had no right to. However much he may want it - and Squall had to admit, as he watched Irvine breathe, and languid desire started to coil in his belly, that he wanted it a lot - this wasn't something he was capable of.

He hadn't been able to keep Rinoa, and he was her Knight. Bound to her by a mystical force and the most powerful force in the universe. If that didn't work, ordinary feelings wouldn't stand a chance.

Everyone he loved left him. That was a fact of life.

Irvine stirred again, rolling onto his side to face Squall, one golden arm draping itself over Squall's waist.

He'd have to explain, that was all. Tell Irvine gently but firmly that he couldn't do this; that Irvine was better off without him; that it was best for all concerned if they stopped it now, before it really got started.

"Mmm," murmured Irvine. "Warm boyfriend. Warm Squall boyfriend. My favourite."

Irvine tugged Squall close and nuzzled his neck. Settled into his arms with a contented little sigh.

Squall lay there for a moment, tense and trembling, trying hard not to melt into Irvine's arms and kiss him.

Boyfriend?

Irvine's agile tongue started to lick his neck, and in a matter of moments he was nibbling at Squall's earlobe.

"You awake, babe?"

"We need to talk," Squall blurted out, but Irvine didn't stop what he was doing.

He just murmured, "in a minute, babe," and pressed the full length of his body against Squall's. Squall's body pressed back automatically, not even thinking to check with his brain, just hungry for the firm flesh Irvine was offering him.

Maybe afterwards. It would be easier then. He wouldn't get any sense out of Irvine when he was horny, he could feel his own mind fuzzing over into want and ache too... And oh, Hyne, but Irvine felt good, his mouth working its way lazily along Squall's jaw, pausing to nip at his chin, teeth tugging briefly at his lower lip before he was soundly and thoroughly kissed.

"Oh babe. Damn, Squall, but you're so... unghh..."

Squall felt the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile, and brushed the back of his hand over the soft fuzz of Irvine's balls again. He could feel Irvine hold back a flinch. Trusting him.

It was so easy to wrap his fingers around Irvine's stiff cock, to press his own against the firm muscle of Irvine's thigh. So easy to lie there on this narrow bed, naked and vulnerable and warm.

Irvine's hand slid down Squall's back, teasing the tiny hairs at the dip of his spine before smoothing over his ass, down to the top of his legs and then back, to caress his butt, soft and gentle. They lay that way for a long time, stroking and pressing, lips brushing together, lazy tongues exploring each others' mouths. Irvine was making noises deep in his throat, happy little noises of content. Squall had never felt anything like it before: so comfortable, so right. It would have scared him, if it hadn't felt so damn good.

He had one knee raised up to Irvine's waist now, and Irvine's fingers were getting more adventurous. But just as gentle, barely skimming the sensitive ridge of flesh behind his balls, until...

Squall felt a moan escape from his chest, his stomach flipping and his cock twitching hard as Irvine touched his asshole. Teasing, tickling with one fingertip, and Squall could feel him smiling. Could hear himself whimper.

"So soft," murmured Irvine. "Pure..."

Squall sought some words of protest; he wasn't a fucking virgin, after all. Only... he had to grudgingly admit that Irvine made him feel like one, and he didn't hate that as much as he should. As always, words failed him.

"So tight," Irvine said, pressing ever so slightly, barely enough to taste resistance before he went back to stroking in slow, soft circles.

"Yours." The words out of Squall's mouth before he could stop them. But he couldn't hate himself for the lapse, not when Irvine was growling approval and taking their kiss deep, his cock hard and leaking in Squall's hand. Not when every bit of him was yearning to give itself up to Irvine's kiss and touch.

Irvine was pressing close, reaching an arm over him toward the nightstand. There were two bottles there, and Squall found himself wondering with a pounding heart which one it would be. Surely even Irvine wasn't so decadent as to use elixir all the time?

"Want a bit of fizz up your ass?" Irvine drawled, popping the stopper of the rainbow-coloured bottle with his teeth.

Of course Irvine was that decadent. Irvine was decadence incarnate. Squall's heart thudded even harder.

He didn't protest, but Irvine must have noticed something in his expression, because he spat out the stopper and set about kissing Squall, hard and long and irresistible, until he hadn't the breath to argue. Then Irvine's fingers were stroking his ass again, only this time there was the warm glow of magic and the ticklish fizz of the potion as it dissolved into his tender skin. Firing nerve endings and soothing anxious muscle, and Squall realised he was panting and moaning, and his forehead was on Irvine's shoulder, soft hair tickling his nose. His whole body melted at that touch, and Irvine could have done anything to him, absolutely anything, and he wouldn't have been able to stop him. Wouldn't have wanted to.

"I'm going to make you feel so good." Irvine's warm breath puffed the words into his ear. "Like you wouldn't believe." He grunted softly as he pushed one finger inside Squall's body, and started to twist and probe carefully until he found just the right spot. Squall cried out, hitching his knee higher to make it easier, and Irvine set about tormenting him, rubbing until Squall could hardly bear it, then taking his fingers away, leaving him empty and hungry and wanting, and then there was more fizzing and teasing and it started all over again; and all the while Irvine was kissing him, slow and deep and wet. And then somehow Irvine's fingers weren't enough any more, however clever and twisty and sure they were.

He wrenched his mouth from Irvine's just long enough to beg. "Fuck me. I want your dick inside me. Now. Fuck me."

Through heavy lids Squall caught the flash of surprise on Irvine's face, the heat in his eyes. He found himself smiling, a warm smug feeling in his belly. Not worrying, in that pure moment of pleasure and wanting, what he might have given away.

"Fuck," said Irvine, apparently speechless for once. "Fuck, yes." And Squall felt the splash of elixir as Irvine poured the stuff over his cock and Squall's palm, and then Squall's cock, hissing through his teeth at the sensation. Then Irvine was rolling him onto his back, touching his ass again, fingers stretching him before he rested the head of his cock there, wet and slick and magic.

Squall ground his head back into the pillow and clutched at Irvine's shoulders as he felt him slip into him. Bit his lip but couldn't stop himself crying out; Irvine's cock so thick and hard and good inside him, stretching and touching and filling. Irvine's fingers in his hair, soothing as his voice, Irvine's breath on his cheek, his neck as he dropped soft kisses on his skin. Squall wrapped his legs around Irvine's back and sucked him deeper, murmured "yes..." as Irvine started to fuck, not teasing any more, long and hard and like he meant it.

"Oh, babe," Irvine gasped. "You're so... fuck, Squall, you're... oh..."

Squall's eyes flew open; for a moment he thought Irvine was about to come and no, it was too soon, too fast, he didn't want it over yet, he wanted it to last. But Irvine was gazing steadily at him, his face showing no sign of panic. He was stroking Squall's hair, and smiling at him. "... beautiful," he murmured. "You're beautiful."

It was too much, it felt so good it hurt, and Squall didn't dare. Couldn't. Mustn't. He squinched his eyes shut and let out a moan that was more pain than pleasure, and sank back to lust, just the pleasure of skin on skin.

Couldn't. Mustn't. Not yet. Not ever.

He guessed that Irvine might look sad, if he were to open his eyes to see, so Squall kept them shut, concentrated on the fuck and locked the rest down, safe and cold and-

"Don't."

Irvine had stopped. Buried deep inside him, hot and hard and holding him, and Squall could feel that look anyway, burning into him.

"Look at me."

Squinting as if looking up into a desert sun, Squall opened his eyes.

"I won't hurt you."

Too late, thought Squall. It already hurts. Because one day you'll leave, and now I've had this, now... it's too late.

"Trust me."

Squall swallowed, hard, and his eyes blinked, and he realised he was holding his whole body tense and stiff, his limbs wrapped around Irvine so tight it hurt.

Irvine didn't look sad. He knew. He'd expected this. It was as if he understood.

"Just fuck me," Squall said.

Irvine smiled his slow and lazy smile, and flexed his hips.

"You sure?" he teased. "You wanna beg some more, pretty boy?"

Squall glared at Irvine, and Irvine laughed, and then they were fucking again. Squall let the fire build inside him, even when Irvine teased and stopped and started and wouldn't let him come; he let it burn hotter and hotter until he didn't have to think any more, until he was nothing but flesh and lust and heat.

Fingers laced with magic folded around his cock, something to fuck, something to ease the ache that Irvine had put there. Inevitable, then, that he should come, his balls crawling up tight and clenching with release, and Irvine made one last thrust deep inside him, pulling out fast as the first stream of come spurted from Squall's cock to splash his chest, fierce, bright pleasure spiking through him. There was another splash, and another, and Squall realised with a groan that they weren't just his; that Irvine was kneeling over him and pumping his own cock, his come mingling with Squall's, laced with elixir, rainbow and white hot on his chest and his belly and his face and his tongue.

He heart pounded, ass and his balls clenching tight. He was empty but his body wouldn't stop, draining every last drop, every shudder, every moan that he had in him.

Then Irvine's lips were on his; he tasted of semen and fizz, he smelt like sex and Squall kissed him back hungrily, wrapped his arms around strong shoulders and it was warm and messy and like nothing he'd felt before.

He was drifting back to sleep when Irvine spoke.

"You were going to tell me something." His voice was thick and soft, as if he were half asleep himself.

For a heartbeat, Squall froze.

It would end, and badly.

Everyone he loved left him.

But. But. But.

"Forgotten," he said, and nuzzled his face into Irvine's hair.