A/N: Wrote this on a spur of the moment thing. Not sure how it turned out, but I think I got what I was going for. Nothing explicit, but rated just in case. By the by, this is boy on boy, aka yaoi. Read if you want. If you aren't into that kind of thing, then move along.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, no sue.

The Razor's Edge

We walk a fine line, right on the razors edge. Almost friends, begetting almost enemies. There's hate, I can always feel it lingering under the surface. I want nothing more than to rip it from your chest. But no; you've always been the subdued one. The level headed goody boy. I'm cool with that. Hell, I love it when you walk in those shoes. Talk that talk. The ice block commander. Lovely isn't it? But you're full of shit, and I know the truth.

We're both frauds; putting up clever fronts; hiding in plain sight. I love it, because no matter how much the world looks into our eyes, they can't see the beasts lurking under the surface. And your animal paces, doesn't it? Paws and growls at the iron bars of your facade. Wanting; fucking needing that release. I know. I see it within you, Squall. You can't hide it from me. No one else gets you like I do; no one can comprehend it.

I know just how to push your buttons.

I watch everyone around try to understand; try to figure out why you come back for more. They couldn't possibly get it, and I'm glad. No one but me should see you like that; out of control, teeth barred; ready to pounce. You put up a lovely mask, all calm and reserved; your face set in stone as you eye the knife. A flash of something crosses those dark pools; gone the next instant, but I saw it. You can't hide it from me. Don't hide anything from me.

I know how I must look, all feral instinct, and confident smirk. Inside, I'm a quivering mess. No matter how many times I've replayed the scenario in my head, it's still a shock. The steel blade presses into your skin easily, and I drink in the hiss that pours out of your mouth. And I swear it's in moments like this where you are your most fetching. I can practically taste your agony on my tongue. Pain and outrage is welling to the surface of your body. You sneer and cuss at me, and I can't help relishing in pushing you this far. I know you would like nothing more than to tear me apart, limb from limb.

Of course the handcuffs prevent it; and I laugh as you accuse me of playing dirty. I won't give in to your goading, because I know that look. Desperation suits your beauty Leonhart. Desperation and blood. I eye the neat little lines I've made, and know I shouldn't indulge. But I have never been one for rules.

My tongue dips. And just a tinge, just a taste; and I'm in ruins. My shoulders shake, hell my whole body is scorching, but I've got to keep steady. Control, control. I need every ounce of it at the moment. And when you fight the lust driving both of us, and stare at me with that rough and cold indifference; my resolve melts.

And you've always been better at the game then me.

I scratch everywhere my hands can reach, loving the feel of heat beneath my fingertips. My mouth finding solace in that warmth. Teeth, tongue and wet heat; I ravish you because I can. Because it feels so damn good. And when my hand brushes the hardening flesh of your cock, your breath hitches just right.

I know you want it; and you're pushing me. Grasping at straws, and fighting the battle within your body. But I've won already, time and again. You know this; but your pride, that beautiful pride of yours stops you. Allows me no room to breathe or maneuver. I'm fine with this too. I've got you right where I want you, and nothing is going to stop me from taking advantage of this. Right here, right now; this is mine.

You are mine.

I've always wanted this; you under me, near me, anything. I've been grasping for it my whole life. And shit, just the look on your face right now; as I tell you; so…Perfect. We're perfect. As I stare down into those pristine orbs, I want to ruin you. Bloody your hands, make you DIRTY. Like me; damaged goods. I want everyone to know; to see this. Humiliation; yours, is like the most potent booze on my tongue.

I know I'm rushing things, but stopping is far out of my mind. As I disrobe, you take in the sight of my arousal, and blush. But I know better. You're no saint, Squally boy. You aren't naive. You've known what was going to transpire since I started. Don't lie to yourself, this is what you want. Need. Don't chicken out on me.

You go quiet when I finally take you. But I know it isn't pain that holds your tongue. Your eyes are almost black, body flushed with lust, chest heaving slightly. I know what keeps you quiet; that you're using every ounce of resolve to not give into this. And so am I.

Having all of you, right now; having you push back against the fire burning in your veins. I can hardly breathe; you're suffocating me. You always suffocate me; surround me, and break me. Just like I break you.

And now, we're both fighting what we've started. Surging through white bliss masked in heavy thrusts, and low growling. I speed up, because I can see that lion waiting; wanting to take the wheel. I want him to meet me half way. My beast demands it.

And it's mounting, that pressure, that damned fire. Pushing me, controlling my every move; I let it take over. I indulge in it fully, teeth sinking into your flesh. My brain screaming for control, grasping for that switch. I'm being dragged lower, and lower with each push into that tight cavity. I'm not the only one.

I watch you get dragged through each wave, loving the lost look on your face. And I swear I see the shards of ice shatter, and break right before me. Right before you start screaming; singing for me. To me. I won't stop, not now; not ever. Because I've got to see it.

I need to see you cum.

My fucking sanity rests on it. Please. The word itches, and hangs on my tongue; and I whisper my command to you. Show it to me, Squall. Show me I'm the only one that can make you lose it like this. Show it to me!

I watch your orgasm take hold, committing it to memory. Do you know how you look right now? Back arched, head thrown back, body surrendered to every feeling coursing through you.

Beautiful.

Right on that razors edge.