Disclaimer. No, not mine, I just borrowed them for this little ficlet. ^_^
Author's note: This was my entry for the Squall/Irvine contest at Scarlet Seductions.
Go read more of the wonderful fanfiction there!
And thank you to the_wild_kat for the beta ^_^
Tension Relief
Irvine keyed open the door to his room and stepped inside with a deep sigh. As the door slid closed behind him with a quiet whoosh, he took the ever present cowboy hat off and tossed it with a practiced flick of the wrist to land on his desk, scattering a few empty bullet shells to the floor, the metal chiming like small bells.
He shrugged off his duster, threw it across the back of the couch and stretched his arms above his head. A few knots in his muscles complained at the treatment but soon let go of their hold, and he sighed again.
It had been a long day; training with the others, teaching two classes with young, aspiring snipers, and sitting in an endlessly long meeting listening to visiting dignitaries arguing with the Garden's commander about things that would soon be revealed as trivialities.
Squall had looked like a thundercloud for the past two days since the guests arrived. The meetings were a necessary evil when those people were visiting, but Irvine had hoped for a little more time alone with the commander. No wonder he was tense, the temporary separation they were forced into was such a strain on him, not to mention Squall. Irvine had a feeling the commander of Balamb would live up to his name pretty soon if he didn't get some time off. They both needed to relieve some tension before the thunder was let loose.
Irvine reached up and massaged his neck, loosening his hair in the process and shaking his head from side to side, making the auburn length sway across his back. It tickled his bare shoulders and he smiled absently at the feeling, wishing it was someone else's fingers touching him instead. But that was a few days away still.
In the meantime, he would have to find a way to relax on his own. Irvine pouted at that thought; he hadn't had to take care of such things by himself since he started dating Squall. The dark haired, grey-eyed man had always been there to take care of Irvine's needs. And now he wasn't because of politicians. Irvine decided he hated politicians.
Well, might as well make myself comfortable, Irvine thought with a sigh.
He slowly unbuttoned his vest, the purple silk sliding by degrees down his shoulders, until it fell off and he let it lay where it landed around his feet. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled as his hand traveled from a shoulder, teasingly skirting around a nipple and lower, to play around his bellybutton. Irvine licked his lips and skimmed the top of his jeans.
One finger dipped underneath the waistband, touching the curls of hair at his groin as his cock began to come to life. Easily distracted and eager to play as always, no matter whom did the playing, obviously. Irvine smiled a little wistfully and once again wished Squall was there.
Well, no saying he wasn't. What if it was Squall's hands that touched him now? Squall's callused palms and fingertips that teased his skin and made his body turn hot and tingling. Irvine tilted his head back and closed his eyes; tweaking a nipple with one hand and flipping open the top button of his pants with the other.
But standing in the middle of the room like this wouldn't do. Squall would want him on the couch, where he could make Irvine dizzy with pleasure without the fear of falling when his knees turned to jelly. Irvine toed off his boots as he stepped around the couch and sank down on it lengthwise. The left hand that had been teasing his nipples joined the other one in his pants and he leaned back against the armrest with a low groan. His pants were too tight to caress his hardening erection properly; they would have to come off.
He thumbed open the second button, nibbling on his lower lip and sighing as the pressure to his groin released with each one opened. Careful not to hurt himself, Irvine squirmed to push the pants down his hips. It was a bit difficult considering his proud erection, but they were soon down far enough to be kicked off his legs completely. Irvine didn't wear underwear; it only impeded his sexual performance and slowed down the process of undressing when it was needed to be done fast. No, underwear was for rookies.
He breathed deeply as the cool air in the room caressed his bared flesh, and let one hand slide along the inside of his thigh to gently cup his balls. The other moved back up his body to tease his nipples into stiff little buds.
Irvine had to bite his lip not to groan out loud as goose bumps rose on his flesh at the contrast of his warm hands and the cool air. He moved his hand from his balls to curl around his cock and gave a slow, gentle stroke, appreciating the feel of himself as he swelled and hardened further. Yes, this was what Squall would do, too, worship Irvine's flesh until he screamed and begged to be given his release.
He tugged at a nipple sharply and gasped at the moment of painful pleasure, his cheeks flushing slowly as his body heat rose. He began to stroke with a purpose now, tightening his grip on the upward tug and flicking his thumb over the head of his cock, before going back down to the root. And then squeezing and stroking up again.
Precome began to bead at the tip and he imagined Squall's tongue flicking out to lick at it as he let his other hand join in the play, the tip of a finger circling the slit at the top before sliding down to cup his balls.
Irvine arched into his hands, gasping when he pressed a finger against the sensitive skin behind his balls. Rubbing firmly, he bent one leg at the knee, allowing it to fall open against the back of the couch.
He stroked faster, catching the rhythm of his hips, rocking into the grip around his cock as his other finger brushed his opening in teasing circles. Scratching a nail lightly over the greedy hole, causing a shudder to run up his spine, he pressed firmly against it.
Irvine came with a gasp of completion and his stomach was splattered with sticky, warm fluid. He gently held his softening cock in his palm while his heartbeat and breathing slowed to normal. A lazy, satisfied smile spread on his lips and heavy eyelids fluttered open, revealing violet eyes.
"So…" he drawled lazily and glanced sidelong at the chair in the shadowed corner next to his cluttered desk. "How was that for tension relief?"
The shadows moved and one of Irvine's eyebrows arched when a lean, dark figure stepped closer to the couch, the movements fluid and graceful.
Their eyes locked, a leather clad knee settled next to his hip on the couch and two hands were placed against the armrest on either side of his head, framing him in.
"Not bad, sniper." A quiet, contemplative murmur.
Irvine smiled and eyed the promising bulge that pressed against the groin of his guest's pants. "I'd say it was better than that, eh, commander?" His smile widened to a smirk and he released his own cock to press his palm against the one still trapped and unsatisfied. He shuddered at the hard heat pressing back, and his own cock began to throb in anticipation despite having been sated just minutes before.
"It was." Moist, pink lips lowered closer to his and dark lashes fluttered to half conceal a heavy, grey gaze. "I hope you don't mind if I fuck you now."
Irvine grinned widely at that comment and squeezed just a little bit around the trapped flesh in his hand. "Not at all." He lifted his head to capture the mouth offered to him and kissed it long and hard. "Anything for you, Squall."
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