Warning: Sexually explicit content, so cover your eyes if you shouldn't be reading this. You may want to plug your ear as well.

Living with Heart

Act XX

Laguna ran a weary hand over his face. Able to count the number of hours he'd slept since Squall left on two hands, the raven-haired man sat up with a heavy groan. Lying in a bed for four hours straight didn't mean he'd slept a wink, though the tossing and turning had done a number on his hair.

Managing to not run into anything or trip himself up as he walked mindlessly into the bathroom, he planned to take a quick shower and arrive early at his office. Though he doubted he could accomplish anything himself, he'd stay with Kiros and see if his friend could keep his mind off of Squall.

Keeping the water cooler than he would have liked, he hoped it would wake him up more fully. However, when he accidentally poured almost three times the amount of shampoo necessary, he understood that waking up was going to be a long process.

The sharp knocking that came from the bathroom's open doorway certainly served to lessen the groggy haze. Starting in surprise, Laguna glanced around as if able to see through the tiled walling that enclosed three sides of the shower.

"President Loire," Thomas spoke with an apologetic tone at obviously intruding. "Mr. Seagill is on the phone," he informed.

In a rush that probably should have left the clumsy man sprawled on the floor, Laguna managed to grab a towel and wrap it around his waist before losing all sense of modesty. With the water still running and his hair sopping, he was oblivious to the puddles that trailed in his leave.

Accepting the phone, not even considering how much water would run over it from his hair, Laguna held it up to his ear. "Tell me something good," he requested in greeting, nodding absently in thanks to his guard for bringing him the phone.

There was a brief pause of silence on the other end. "Would you consider Squall being on a train heading to Esthar good?"

Slowly making his way over toward the sink's counter, Laguna leaned against it. Sighing, he stubbornly pressed the heel of his palm against each eye as frustrated tears began to flow far too early in the morning for him to deal with. "That's the best news you could give."

"Garrison is with him. They just arrived in Fisherman's Horizon. Lieutenant Foler called me when he couldn't get a hold of you at the residence."

"I've been staying at the estate the past few days," Laguna reminded.

"I know, that's why I said I'd just pass the news on," the advisor's smooth voice informed with an undertone of mirth.

Inhaling sharply, Laguna braced himself and attempted to shake off his frustrations. "When does the train reach Esthar?"

"You know I have to advise against you going out to meet him, but since I know there's no stopping you at this point. His train won't arrive for about an hour."

"Thank you," Laguna said before hanging up. His mind was reasonably functional, telling him to first turn the water off in the shower and perhaps take the time to wear something other than pajamas.

-----

By the time Squall boarded the train headed for Esthar, he felt on edge and unable to find a moment's peace. Though constantly scanning his surroundings as though expecting a hoard of monsters to jump out from beneath the small cot like bed in the corner of the compartment, he appeared as outwardly calm as possible.

"You know, I think I've proven to be slightly capable at my job," the sandy blond guard announced, seated directly across from the younger man. "Take a nap or something, just stop worrying."

Scowling at the guard for even suggesting he ignore the situation, Squall refused to consider the idea and turned his focus out the window. The fast passing of water was annoying, forcing grey-blue eyes to focus on the horizon or become nauseous.

"Okay, fine," James murmured with slight annoyance, suddenly remembering the difficulties he'd had with his charge from day one. Standing up, the tall guard moved across the small space towards the bed. "If you're so insistent on being the lookout, then I'll take a nap. Technically, I'm off duty anyway."

Lips pressed tightly together, Squall cast a furtive glance towards James. The primly mannered black suit was disheveled, the tie loosed and the white shirt slightly wrinkled. He imagined that the guard might not have had a very easy time since his departure from Esthar roughly four days ago.

"Thank you," the brunet muttered just loud enough for the older man to hear.

Grumbling incoherently, James turned over with his back facing the stubborn boy. He hadn't truly done a whole lot outside of following the kid to Balamb and making the proper contacts to keep the President informed of the situation. He had been the one to negotiate with Richardson, unable to leave it up to the hotheaded knight who kept suggesting Squall have sex with the guy in return for such a favor.

-----

Although Squall had not envisioned any scenarios about his eminent meeting with Laguna, he'd had some expectations that it wouldn't turn out so awkward.

Beyond lucky that there were no passengers aside from himself and James, Squall was immediately rushed by the Estharian President moments after debarking. In a month or two, Tarners Platform would be crowded with people from all over the world, visiting under the new open door policy that hadn't quite taken effect yet.

While Squall was indeed concerned with consoling the upset man, he was more concerned with taking their reunion someplace private.

Laguna clutched fiercely at the thin white t-shirt of the younger man's chest, his distressed presence demanding the boy console him. Deciding to speak later, he persisted in keeping close, head bowed against a narrow shoulder. He felt a wave of relief wash over him when Squall gently hugged him.

"I know how you feel," Squall whispered. "But, we can't do this here."

Nodding an affirmative, Laguna still found it quite impossible to step away. He needed the boy's heat and scent. He needed to touch and hold Squall. More to the cause of his frustrations, he needed to have Squall touching him, affirming that he was still wanted and that things would return to the way they'd been only a matter of days ago.

It wasn't until they were seated in the back seat of the black BMW, which had first driven him to the Loire Estate over three weeks ago, that Squall was able to actually look at Laguna properly. Previously he'd only seen a blur of raven hair, which he now noticed was a bit of a mess and faintly damp.

Grey-blue eyes studied the older man's profile, absently hearing the president's request to be taken back to the estate. Squall berated himself for the thoughts that formed, finding the timing to be terrible. He followed the curve of the man's firm jaw, down to the exposed hollow near the collar of a v-neck sweater.

Squall had missed Laguna, finding that certain goofy nature was something that amused him to no extent and being without it was rather depressing. He couldn't help but feel content already at the expression of need the man had already given. It was nice to know that he was still important in the view of innocent hazel-green eyes. He supposed he should just give up trying to find fault in the man, trying to undermine the love Laguna held for him. It was a difficult concept, but the bumbling president was making it surprisingly clear that there was such a thing as a love apart from lust.

"I was worried," Laguna stated, leaning over to calmly rest his head in his hands. He felt uncertain about clinging to the boy again.

"…" Squall didn't have much to say. He could apologize, but it didn't seem right when he'd left knowing how Laguna would feel. Biting his lip, he remained in place, the space between them feeling cold.

There was a long silence in the car. While Squall generally dwelled in moments of silence, he could not find solace in it in such an instance. Unlike the two guards up front, his silence seemed out of place. He felt as though he should be speaking.

"I'm not sure I can wait until we reach the estate," Laguna mumbled dejectedly, forcing his eyes to stare at the black upholstery beneath his feet.

It took Squall a moment to understand, but when he did he immediately took pity on the man. Sliding over, he deftly settled right in Laguna's lap. Straddling the president's thighs, he stared for several moments into searching green eyes. It might have become awkward for the passengers upfront, but it was suddenly much more comfortable for Squall.

Laguna accepted the boy's advances impassively. At length, when he found no obvious answers hidden in mesmerizing stormy blue eyes, he pressed forward and hugged Squall tightly. He didn't need anything else, just Squall.

With a content sigh, Laguna buried his head against the crook of a pale neck, eyes fluttering closed as he inhaled the familiar sent of sandalwood. He wanted to stay like that for the remainder of the ride, hoping the brunet would indulge him.

"I missed you," Laguna whispered hoarsely. One arm crept higher, his fingers seeking to twine in silky brown hair.

Squall ignored the stiffness in his legs, feeling the circulation lessen and knowing he'd feel pricking needles if he remained in place for too long. Still, his legs falling asleep was a minor consequence in light of being able to be so close to Laguna.

-----

Four friends sat solemnly around the rectangular coffee table in Quistis' dorm. While Irvine had wanted to make up a comforting lie, Quistis had insisted on being truthful.

"So, he wouldn't tell you what was going on?" Selphie questioned, feeling saddened that she didn't know Squall as well as she'd thought.

Adjusting her glasses, Quistis reminded, "He's a very private person."

With a frown, Irvine corrected, "He doesn't think it's any of our business."

"And it really isn't," the blonde instructor commented. "I'm just as frustrated as you Irvine, but if he's not in any trouble then we can't force him to tell us. We should respect his wishes."

"Hey man," Zell interjected, "I don't care if he doesn't wanna pour his heart out to us, but why did he go to Almasy? I mean, that's just insulting."

"He has known Seifer longer than the rest of us. Maybe it was something that happened when we weren't around," Selphie suggested with uncertainty.

Reluctant to burst the copper haired woman's bubble, Quistis refrained from pointing out that she had known Squall nearly as long as Seifer, making it unlikely that the blond knight would have been around for some major event and not her as well. With a weak smile, she agreed, "That's probably it."

Shoulders slumping, Selphie gave a pouting whine. "This is a total bummer. Squally hates us."

"Darlin', you know that's not true," the gunman comforted, his arm wrapping around the young woman's tiny frame.

"It might be something embarrassing, like wetting the bed until he was twelve," Zell suggested, scratching his chin as if imagining all the embarrassing scenarios that might fit the unknown circumstances.

"Cid wouldn't have hit Squall for wetting the bed," Selphie mumbled dejectedly.

"I know that," the spiky haired boxer said defensively. "I just meant, if it were something like that, then he wouldn't want us knowing."

With a sigh, Quistis said what she really wanted to, "You guys, thank you for your help. I know I shouldn't have dragged you all into this and that you put yourselves on the line for it. I wish we could have found out exactly what was going on, but it's obvious that Squall doesn't want us to know. He was quite adamant about leaving it alone."

More than a little unhappy with the way things had turned out, especially after going to such lengths as cracking into Balamb Garden's enrolment records, Irvine glared at the innocent coffee table. "I'd just as soon keep digging around 'til I figured it all out, but I have a feeling we weren't even heading in the right direction."

"I don't think so either," Quistis agreed. "But the fact remains that it's all in the past."

"We don't know that for certain," the gunman refuted.

"We just have to trust Squall," the instructor shot back with a stern gaze from behind her glasses.

Irvine scoffed. He had absolutely no problem with anyone wanting to keep secrets, but he couldn't forgive the distress caused to his little lady. "I suppose it's just a minor technicality that our trust in Squall lead us to this room, discussing some big secret that seems more like a conspiracy."

Zell's only sore spot with the situation was Seifer being involved, but he could over look that if it was what Squall wanted. Unable to sit still any longer, his feet began tapping on the floor.

"Irvy, don't be angry at Squall," Selphie pleaded.

"I'm not really angry darlin', just frustrated. I know we did this on our own, but I can't stand leaving it like this."

"Look at it this way," Zell began with a proud expression at having come up with a clever parallel. "It's like with you and Selphie, sort of."

Irvine rolled his eyes, preparing to lose a few brain cells.

"You've slept with a lot of woman, that's not a secret. But, you don't anymore now that you're with Selphie."

Selphie grinned brightly, leaning into the gunman's side. "That's right," she cheered merrily. After a moment though, she frowned. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Sighing in exasperation, the boxer elaborated on what he thought was obvious. "If Selphie can trust that you've pulled a one-eighty, then shouldn't we trust Squall on this? I mean, he might have some secrets, but that doesn't mean he's lying on this."

"Zell, I must say that was actually rather insightful," Quistis commented with a nod of approval. Even if the presentation was a bit sketchy, the idea was there.

Irvine sighed in defeat, finding no support from anyone to continue digging deeper. In the end, he would have needed their help and it just wasn't worth it when no one would apparently benefit from uncovering the truth. But, he felt discontented and curious with no prospect of ever feeling soothed.

"Did he seem happy?" Selphie questioned, gazing imploringly at Quistis.

"He seemed relieved to be going back to Esthar," Quistis answered. "He was more angry than anything when we kept pushing for answers."

Zell finally gave in to his urges and stood up, hopping from foot to foot. "Of course he was angry. He was probably afraid of everyone knowing he has bladder control issues."

"Zell," Quistis chastised. "Squall does not wet the bed."

"You're right, that'd be totally un-cool and Squall's the coolest guy I know," Zell agreed, boxing the air.

Leaning back against the couch, Irvine kindly pointed out, "That's what the ladies say about me." With a smirk, he forced his expression to seem nonchalant. At that point, his main concern was alleviating all worry from Selphie's shoulders, and his continued persistence and obvious discontent would make him the number one cause of that worry.

Throwing the gunman a halfhearted glare, Zell ceased his shadow boxing. Continuing to think of what might be too embarrassing to share with long time friends, his forehead crinkled with the effort. Suddenly going wide-eyed, he murmured, "Oh man. Why didn't we see it before?"

"What?" Quistis asked with alarm.

"It fits perfectly," the blond boxer exclaimed, falling back into his seat limply. "It's embarrassing, but not so mortifying that he'd live a lie instead. He wouldn't want anyone knowing, and Cid might have been against it, and that's why he wants to stay in Esthar, and it explains why he couldn't be with Rinoa."

"What? What?" Selphie pressed, ready to throttle the short man if he didn't begin explaining.

Expression growing serious, a severe look to baby blue eyes, Zell leaned forward in his chair. "Squall must be gay."

There was a long moment of silence. No one spoke. They all stared at Zell. While their first instinct was to dismiss it and wonder if someone was lacing the hotdogs with some cognitive impairing drug, the silence indicated that they were actually reflecting on it.

Wary about giving credence to Zell's conclusion, Irvine was the first to speak. "How is being gay not mortifying?" The gunman didn't affirmatively speak out against homosexuals, not when he thought two chicks going at it was hot, but he grimaced at the idea of two men together.

"Mortifying?" Selphie intoned incredulously. "It'd be so cute if Squall were gay."

Zell gestured to Selphie with a hand. "That's what I mean. The other day there were a whole bunch of second year cadets talking in the cafeteria about how adorable Nida looked with that one dude who transferred from Trabia. But it's Squall we're talking about, so he can't just stay at Garden when coming out of the closest, not with his reputation."

"Please, let's not jump to conclusions like this. I thought we were in agreement to drop the whole thing," Quistis chastised the group collectively.

"But it fits, right?" Zell persisted, excited about being right. "That's why he's staying in Esthar, because they're so ambiguous about that kind of thing.

"Or maybe he found someone in Esthar and wants to give everything up to stay with him!" Selphie exclaimed. "Oh Squally's fallen in love, but was too embarrassed to tell us. Cid must have found out and disapproved of such forbidden love. It's like a romance novel."

"Selphie," Quistis implored, "I highly doubt that's anywhere near the mark." There were many other answers that would fit into place, but only one of them was the truth and it was decided that they wouldn't carry on with any investigation, so it shouldn't matter.

Irvine gazed at the bright smile on Selphie's face. Casting a meaningful glance to the head instructor, the gunman said, "You know darlin', you might be right." As ludicrous as it sounded, if it made Selphie happy, then he'd back her up even if he didn't believe it. If possible, he hoped the young woman didn't analyze the words exchanged that night by the fountain, which would blatantly point to something else.

"I'm the one who figured it out," Zell immediately interjected.

"No," Selphie refuted. "You said he's staying in Esthar because they don't care about being gay, but I said that Squall's staying there because he has a boyfriend."

"Yeah, but Squall being gay in the first place was my idea," the boxer returned, wanting credit where it was due.

"Don't start spreading rumors," Quistis said with a groan, rolling her eyes when Irvine gave her a small nod of thanks. She'd yell at him later for encouraging such idiocy.

-----

Laguna couldn't help but feel like a perverted old man when the proximity of Squall eventually began to turn him on. He'd been looking forward to getting the boy into his bed as soon as they arrived, but in a wholly innocent sense. He wanted to take the day to catch up on lost hours of sleep, holding the warm body of his lover close. However, by the time they were nearing the estate, he was only a few jostling movements away from having an erection.

The playful feel of fingers in his hair was causing Laguna to forget that he was in a car with two spectators present. He was rather embarrassed to be publicly affectionate, less so because it was with his son and more so because he was a bit conservative when it came to that sort of thing.

Regardless of whether Laguna was perfectly comfortable with having sex in front of all the members of parliament, his fingers unconsciously flexed in a groping movement and his lips eventually found their way to a pale neck. It was subtle, just some light petting that served to fulfill at least a fraction of what he wanted to be doing.

"We're almost there," Squall whispered softly with an implied promise. He carefully shifted back and slid from the president's lap, which had been his resting place for the past twenty minutes. He winced slightly when unfolding his legs, reminded why such things were only done when comfortably in bed. He might have fallen asleep on his perch had his mind not been fixated on what would happen once they reached their destination.

Laguna felt the loss of heat immediately, almost succumbing to the urge to keep Squall in place. In the end, he gave no protest and simply awed at his son's ability to have grace in every situation, something he had very little of.

Squall was entirely unaffected by the inappropriate setting, but he knew that once he got started he wouldn't be able to stop half way through, and a bed was a requirement for what he had in mind.

Slightly nauseated by the display between father and son, James kept his eyes trained outside the car, pointedly avoiding the side mirror. It wasn't his knowledge of the blood relation, but the newlywed aura between the pair that he could certainly do without. He'd have been more comfortable if they'd begun tearing each other's clothes off, acting a little less lovey-dovey than simply holding each other.

Unable to keep his eyes from stealing glanced in the rear view mirror, Thomas was grateful he managed to drive them all back safely. Not completely in tune with what a sexual relationship between father and son entailed, it was sort of like watching a train wreck. He couldn't waste the opportunity, quite certain the pair would always meander to a private location for anything blatantly not done between father and son.

With a rushed slam of the car doors, the two guards found they were swiftly being left behind. James didn't bother to hide his amusement, chuckling at the hurried steps taken as the dark haired duo sped up the long stoop of stairs. It was amazing how the perception of a person changed with first hand observation. President Loire was nothing of the man he'd perceived originally, but his respect for the ruler of the country was no less.

Inside the estate, Laguna and Squall strode abreast through the main entry hall.

"I should warn you," Laguna spoke with a slightly nervous edge to his voice. "I'm running on very little sleep and haven't stopped thinking of you since you left. I don't know how long I can last or how gentle I can be." He felt the need to warn Squall and perhaps apologize ahead of time in case he were too forceful, but the truth was that he couldn't wait much longer.

Squall simply smirked, entirely endeared that the man was worried about his well being in such an instance. He didn't bother pointing out that Laguna didn't really stand much of a chance if he chose to fight back. Instead, he assured the President by pinning the man to the nearest wall.

"Squall?" the older man questioned, gazing into sharp eyes that seemed to be saying something he couldn't quite understand.

Squall kissed Laguna roughly. His lips meshed with bruising force as he demanded a response. Sliding a seeking tongue over the president's own, he relished their first kiss as his impatient body would allow. Once eliciting a groan from the man, he drew back. "Don't worry about things that don't matter," he chastised gently while stepping away.

Delighted to have Squall back, Laguna grinned sheepishly. His body was on fire, his blood heating a little more each second the boy was near. Suddenly frantic to reach either one of their rooms, not remembering which was closer, he scoured the premise.

In the end, Squall's room was closer and the pair managed to make it before opting to do it in the middle of the hallway.

Laguna gave up trying to unfasten Squall's belts, tugging at them as though they'd just break loose. Eventually, the boy took pity on him and deftly managed to accomplish what his fumbling fingers couldn't.

"We should take this slower," Laguna murmured as Squall knelt down and made quick work of unbuttoning his pants.

"Why?" Squall returned, contently tugging at the elastic band of navy blue boxer shorts, momentarily ignoring the way black dress pants were only pulled part way down and might trip the clumsy man up.

Swallowing thickly, Laguna tried to fathom a possible reason for taking it slower. When moist heat suddenly enveloped his hardened length, all reasons became moot. He groaned in pleasure as the younger man proceeded to suck him off.

Before the longhaired president really did trip, Squall unlaced the man's shoes and pushed both pants and boxers down to the floor. With teasing nips around the base of the penis, he stroked the engorged organ to stand completely erect. Sighing contently, he traced the underside with his tongue, then swirling around the mushroomed head.

Laguna found himself swaying in place, eyes closing at the feeling of Squall's devilish tongue swiping the slit of his sensitive length. He feared he wouldn't be able to hold out if the boy kept going, but he was powerless to vocalize such a concern.

With a final taste of the bitter fluid that leaked from the angry red tip of the engorged cock, Squall leaned back. In paced motions, he rid himself of his shoes and t-shirt. Pants following, the brunet stood completely bared before the older man.

Laguna gulped as his eyes roved the lithe figure, pale skin over lean muscles. As the boy sauntered close, his hands twitched with the need to reach out and touch every inch of exposed flesh. He became confused when Squall walked right by him and then away. His heart raced as all his blood rushed south, his eyes fixated on the pert ass of the younger man's retreating form. It was several lust dazed moments later that Laguna realized Squall was headed for the bedroom.

In the bedroom, grey-blue eyes narrowed at the sight of the unmade bed. It was pretty self-explanatory to see the bed in such a state. Knowing that Laguna had occupied the space in his absence, he felt the urge to apologize, but once more refrained from such a meaningless expression of sympathy and regret. He wasn't sorry, because in the end he was able to stay with the president and not be hounded with worries about being forced back.

"What are you thinking?" Laguna whispered against Squall's ear, coming up from behind and pressing flush against the naked form. Unable to control himself, he rocked forward, his length grinding against the cleft of the brunet's ass.

Letting out a small gasp, Squall let his head fall back against a broad shoulder. At the moment, he wasn't thinking about anything except having Laguna inside of him. "I want you inside me," he admitted longingly.

Jaw clenched, Laguna continued to undulate against the body in his hold, steadily working himself into a frenzied state where he wouldn't be able to stop. Thankfully, his younger counter part seemed to have more control and broke away to climb atop the bed.

Taking charge, Laguna round the bed and searched beneath the pillow for the small bottle of lube. Now experienced in preparing the younger man for entry, he felt relief in being able to put his skills to practice once more.

Squall shivered in anticipation as Laguna settled between his legs, even the sound of the bottle's cap being opened serving to stimulate him. As slick fingers rubbed along his perineum, sliding closer to his entrance, he spread his legs wider.

Marveling at the younger man, Laguna intently watched the heavy lidded expression to direct him along. Gently nudging the tip of his index finger beyond the puckered opening, he watched the reclining figure shudder in pleasure.

Slowly, with sensual undertones and selfish enjoyment, Laguna stretched the tight entrance to accommodate him. He knew Squall's number one erogenous zone was the rosy little anus that he was mercilessly playing with, but he couldn't help it when pale cheeks became tinged red and pout lips parted in panting gasps.

With four fingers plunging in and out of Squall's entrance, Laguna began to pant as well. It was physically exerting to restrain himself under such pressure, his leaking cock continually demanding that he ram into the lithe body.

"Enough," Squall hissed in demand, having been toyed with to his limit.

Hardly about to argue, Laguna extracted his fingers with a wet trail of clear lubricant. Pouring a liberal amount over his darkened length, he gave a firm stroke to spread it around. Gripping slim hips, he slowly nudged inside of Squall. Sliding deeper, pushing in inch by inch, he felt as though the tight heat was sucking him inward. It was his breaking point, and without restraint, he leaned forward and thrust as far as possible.

Squall cried out at the unexpected end to a gentle entry, the sharp pain cutting through the heated pleasure.

"I'm sorry," Laguna muttered, suddenly torn between repeating the action and pulling out all together.

Back arched, Squall eventually settled down against the mattress. "Don't be," he replied. Capable of taking a significant amount of pain without complaint, the initial penetration in such an instance hardly ranked very high up on his list.

"Does it hurt?" Laguna questioned, glancing down to see he'd indeed pushed in to the base of his penis, something that usually didn't happen until the end of their first round or beginning of their second.

Shaking his head, hair tousling on the pillow, Squall assured that it didn't hurt. "Feels good," he murmured when concerned hazel-green eyes didn't seem to believe him. Raising his arms, he pulled the older man close and kissed soft lips.

With a whimper, Laguna broke the exchange. "Can I move?" he requested.

Squall nodded in consent, wincing slightly as the man followed through with the actual action.

"Hyne," Laguna groaned, the pleasure immeasurable as his throbbing length was gripped tightly. He began to shake with restrained need as he pushed back in slowly.

"It's okay, just do it," Squall soothed, encouraging the raven-haired man by raising his legs a bit and giving the final signal to open the floodgates.

"I don't want to hurt you," Laguna returned pleadingly, head bowed and hair obscuring his face.

Squall gently brushed the long strands out of the way, resting his hand to cup the president's cheek. "I can take a potion afterwards if I need it, but this is hardly painful."

Nodding, Laguna roughly picked up the pace. Pulling out and thrusting back in, he leaned heavily against the body beneath him, arms propping himself up to make certain all his weight wasn't placed on the smaller man.

Unrestrained moans spilled from Squall's lips as the pace continued to increase and he was pleasured both inside and out. His own erection was rubbing between them while the girth of Laguna's penis kept near constant pressure on his prostate gland.

The fulfilling climax came quickly amidst panting sounds of pleasure and the forceful slapping of their bodies joining in each thrust. Squall arched with his head pressed back against the bed, ribbons of white release coating both their stomachs. Laguna rutted fiercely, muscles working to keep the pace, his own end coming as the boy's tight anus clamped around him. Buried deep, he ejaculated with blinding ecstasy, his hot seed coating the gripping channel.

Sated for the moment, Squall rest limply against the bed, arms dropping from around the form atop him. He welcomed the older man's openmouthed kiss, chuckling when the Laguna seemed unable to get enough.

"I like the way you taste," Laguna muttered in brief explanation, his tongue delving inside the boy's mouth once more.

"Mmn," Squall intoned unintelligibly, fingers raking through long raven hair.

At length, Laguna lethargically moved off of Squall and settled at the brunet's side. Sleepily shifting about to settle beneath the covers, uncaring of the drying release on them both, he happily pulled the younger man close and quietly reveled in the euphoric aftermath.

Squall squirmed about until he was more comfortably situated in the man's arms. He couldn't help but smile when Laguna kissed his forehead.

"I love you," Laguna whispered. "Hyne, I don't know what to do with myself without you. Nothing is the same."

"I know," Squall assured. "I didn't leave because I wanted to."

"You'll never leave me again, will you?" came the inevitable question from a worried lover.

"Not if I can help it," Squall answered honestly, unable to make impossible promises to the man he couldn't stand to lie to.

Fearful of change at that point, Laguna vowed to do everything in his power to make sure he never lost Squall. The boy was had become so dear and precious to him that he was utterly hopeless when alone. He couldn't imagine knowing happiness or contentment prior to meeting the war hero who'd turned out to be his son. He was now quite grateful that Squall was his son, not knowing if he'd have ever been given the chance to steal the man away without the excuse for their first visit.

"Thank you," Squall mumbled under his breath, a soft sigh indicating that he was likely as tired as the president.

"For what?" Laguna questioned softly, lips brushing over Squall's temple.

A small smile ghosted Squall's lips, gone before the raven-haired man had the chance to see it. "For showing me love," he answered quietly, as though afraid his words would be heard by someone other than Laguna.

Heart clenching, Laguna tightened his hold. He couldn't imagine anyone not showing Squall love. If that were indeed the tragic case then he was selfishly happy to be the first.

THE END

Author's Note: Yes that is the end. I'm not generally a big fan of sending the couple riding off into the sunset, even if I throw them on some hot motorcycles. It was sappy, but I hope not overly so. Closure isn't my thing, so the ending might seem like the ending to just another chapter. Anyway, I hope you liked it. It didn't turn out the way it was in my head, but I like this version better. What more could I want? I don't know if I'll do another Laguna/Squall fic. I might, but not any time soon.