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Sprink's Solo!Squall Fic

Squall leaned back on his bed, not bothering to pull the blankets up over his body. The night was warm anyway and though it seemed natural to either be wearing more clothing or be covered up, he knew that if he did either, he would wake up later drenched in sweat. It would make sleeping afterwards more of a task. It wasn't efficient, and efficiency was high on his list of priorities.

He knew he was thinking too much, especially since he was trying to convince himself sleep was more important than thinking. His mind wandered back to the evening though, a casual social gathering in preparation for the next day's series of important meetings between Esthar and Galbadia.

Laguna had a handful of SeeDs on the premises as part of intense security measures. And since it was quite the big deal, Squall himself was amongst them. The evening had been awkward, leaving Squall over-thinking many of the little awkward moments that sprinkled the events liberally.

At one junction, he had been managing a rather engaging conversation with Laguna, something that was overly notable from the beginning. However the logistics of a partially mechanically enhanced populace was fascinating to Squall, and somehow Laguna managed to explain it in terms that were neither too dumbed down nor too far over either of their heads. Somehow, during the years, Laguna actually had learned to do his job.

Midway through it all, Zell had stumbled over with three glasses of wine in his hands, happily handing one to Squall and one to Laguna before draining his own. Squall had wanted to bang his head on the wall - he had given all of the SeeDs a lecture on the way over about exactly what moderation was and exactly why it was so important.

Once Laguna's attention was pulled from Squall, Zell had said something cryptic about needing to share Squall's flirting time before dragging Squall off to catch a quick view of a couple more barely behaving SeeDs.

Squall grumbled at the thought of his entire unit being hungover for the first of the series of meetings, but he couldn't really blame them. Some of them were younger, newly promoted, and this was their first real mission aside from their SeeD test.

It was a little embarrassing to have thought of the conversation with Laguna as flirting. There was a weird bit of tension between himself and the president, but Squall had always thought the reason to be obvious - and not something he was quite ready to tell Zell.

Rinoa, before she decided that Squall was more of a project than she cared to handle, had always told Squall that he never noticed when he was being flirted with. It must have been the alcohol he'd nervously sipped while being half-groped by Zell, but random, intense thoughts suddenly flooded his head - all of them involving Laguna.

Laguna, Squall decided as he rolled over and tried to stare out into the expanse of darkness that masqueraded as a guest room, was too pretty for his own good. If Laguna wasn't framed the way he was with such feminine features, Squall wouldn't have had such an easy time imagining him in a compromising position or two.

And then there was Zell. Zell had been overly flirty and prone to groping during the last few weeks. Squall was well aware of Zell's feelings and intentions, but with Rinoa fresh in his memory, relationships were the last thing on his agenda.

He did find Zell attractive though. He had never really made much of a distinction between relationships with girls and relationships with boys. People interested him, no matter what they were like on the outside. And, Squall knew, he interested people. Even one of Esthar's own cyborg soldiers had been giving him a fair share of appreciative glances from near the buffet table.

It was a nice little ego stroke, really, and the slightly more anonymous soldier was more of a turn on than anyone Squall knew. Somehow sexual thoughts about people he knew were more awkward than exciting after the initial rush of images.

At that particular moment, Squall's mind decided to remind Squall's hands that just thinking about it wasn't going to do much for the suddenly demanding erection that had formed during the preceding bout of thinking.

He was almost naked anyway; it only took a slight quick motion to pull down his underwear enough that he could take his arousal between both hands.

With it being so late at night, Squall didn't really want to draw out the experience. All he really needed was to come, and to come hard. Hopefully it would both take care of his body and mind so he could sleep.

Moving his hands quickly, Squall let his mind wander just a bit, back to his apparent choice of partners. He did want to be with someone, but he knew that his current assignment wouldn't allow such luxuries. Even in his mind, he couldn't quite kick the feeling that hands were on him, touching him. He wanted a hot mouth. He wanted another body tight and deep to bury himself in. He wanted everything he knew he couldn't have.

If they had to be hands, they were going to be someone else's. Slicked with pre-ejaculate and putting pressure in just the right spots, Squall paused on each of the men in his mind, quickly test-driving them all to see which one could possibly be bringing him to bliss.

Even so close to orgasm, he was thinking too much. But his body chose to side-step that little quirk, instead lunging towards orgasm with an almost startling speed.

Squall's eyes were wide open as he came, staring up into the dark abyss above, unsure about even where he was for a moment. He was shaking, blinking, and trying to feel for the edge of the bed.

Sleep wanted him, but he wasn't quite ready to answer.

Just as he managed to have his feet meet the floor, there was a sharp knock at the door. Someone called his name, not quite urgent, yet not without need as well.

Squall grabbed for his pants, quickly swapping them for his soiled underwear. It looked as though his evening could only get more interesting.