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Freeze

Thinking back on it that night, Squall was infinitely more confused than he had been when it happened. Ansem hadn't really done anything too unusual, the confusing part was what followed.

Squall had felt Ansem's breath on his neck, felt the familiar touch of Ansem's hand on his shoulder as Ansem leaned to point at something in Squall's textbook. What it had been, Squall had forgotten now, instead stuck on the little details like Ansem's hair falling against his neck, tickling slightly and how Ansem's hand had slid over his, guiding him to some minute bit of information.

For some reason, his body had reacted more than his mind, finding a new plateau of arousal and staying there for much too long, making him blush helplessly until Ansem had gone off to persue some other innocent and scholarly task.

Listening for a moment in the darkness of his room, Squall was sure he was the only one still awake in the house. There was no one to come randomly barging in on him, threatening the most absolutely wrong thing he was about to do.

But as long as it was in his mind, he decided, it was okay. Reaching down under his blankets, he pushed down his pajama bottoms just enough so that he could free his already partially aroused penis. Squall was curious as to just what Ansem looked like naked, if the exotic contrast of dark skin and pale hair continued all down his body, thick hard arousal nestled amongst springy silver.

Stroking himself slowly at first, Squall couldn't help bringing to his lips the first sweet drops of liquid that leaked from his arousal. He didn't mind his own taste that much and doubted he would mind the taste of others. But back to the pleasure-filled task at hand, Squall could see no reason not to rush to his peak, hopefully exorcising the deliciously naughty thoughts that threatened to consume him.

He wondered if Ansem was doing something similar now, laying in his canopied bed, alone and longing for someone willing. Ansem had strong, skilled hands with a steadiness Squall had always admired. He wanted those hands touching him, sharing everything.

Gasping much louder than he would have liked, Squall came hot across his stomach, surprising himself even as waves of bliss washed over him. It was the most intense orgasm he could remember, and the only one that had left his toes tingling in the aftermath.

Bringing semen-slicked fingers to his lips, Squall closed eyes he hadn't realized were open and daydreamed that next time he wouldn't be cleaning up his own seed, but instead that of another.