At Balamb Garden, full-fledged SeeDs were rewarded with single-occupancy rooms. This allowed privacy for the top members of the mercenary force while keeping promiscuous fraternization to a minimum. Irvine Kinneas, upon arriving at the mobile Garden docked for repairs at Fisherman's Horizon, found himself very disappointed to learn this.

His frustration was even greater when he learned that special guests of Garden, even Galbadian mercenaries, were put up in rather well-appointed but equally lonely guest rooms. Unable to return him to a Galbadia under the Sorceress' control, and unable to get him to *leave* now that he had become part of Squall's team, Balamb had been obliged to put him up for the time being.

What Headmaster Cid couldn't have possibly known was that putting Irvine Kinneas away in a nice, secluded private room was just as good as putting a bullet between his eyes. Irvine lay in his bed in the gloom of growing night, determined that he would die of loneliness.

There had been a plan, earlier, when he'd waited for Squall to come back from scouting out the floating town. To execute that plan, he'd needed an excuse to get Squall and Selphie in the same place. Convincing the leader to try and cheer up the girl so down about her Festival stage being wrecked had been easy. But no, then Squall had run off with a "you handle it, Irvine," and left him minus one piece of his puzzle. And at this point, trying to seduce Selphie was like trying to grab a handful of water. She kept slipping through his fingers, usually at the fault of some grandiose scheme involving explosions, or at the hands of some overexciteable, giggly classmates.

"No threesome for Kinneas," Irvine sighed to himself, flopping an arm over his eyes. No possible way, now that he was alone in the guest quarters. He couldn't even mooch his way into Squall's room with him, which would have been much easier than getting the Headmaster to agree to let him shack up with Selphie while he was there.

Balamb Garden had some stupid rule about student promiscuity. That meant that not only were male and female students kept separated, but that SeeD-level residents -- who faced death and destruction on a regular basis and were more likely to have lustful impulses -- were kept apart as well. Irvine was pretty sure that Galbadia Garden had no such limitations, but then again, he'd always done really poorly on test questions dealing with Garden handbook rules.

No threesome, no Squall, no Selphie, no sex of any kind for him. And it had been ages since the last time he'd been with anyone. Irvine Kinneas was, in his own mind, in a terrible bind. He had down time and no one to share it with.

Times like these, all a boy had for comfort was what he could provide. And just the thought of Squall and sex in the same sentence had the blood starting to boil between his legs. Irvine tugged the covers up to his chin, and slid his hands down his naked body, as though priming himself and his skin with a bit of touch.

Irvine's eyes closed and the first image that rose behind his lids was Squall, naked, standing uncertainly by his bed. He could just picture all the smooth, hard lines of his body, the slimness of his hips and the strength in his chest. Irvine's hands slid up and down his own body, leaving a trail of warm and prickling skin in their wake. His cock was definitely awake and interested in the images he was concocting, now.

Squall would slide into bed with him without saying a word. Irvine liked it better that way. He could whisper to his fantasy and not wish for a response. Real Squall probably wouldn't give him one, and so Fantasy Squall wouldn't either. "Come on, baby," Irvine breathed into the room's dark silence, echoed faintly by the lap of seawater against faraway Garden walls.

He could picture Squall's gorgeous body stretched out beside him, leaning over him. His hands found his stiff cock and sensitive balls as he imagined it. Slim muscular chest, tapered waist, a perfect V from his hipbones to his groin. Ah, on that image Irvine lingered, drawing up the most enticing proportions and silvery gleam of skin. Squall would have the perfect graceful slide from his hips to his genitals. It was absolutely required.

Of course, particularly for this fantasy, Squall would have to have a magnificent cock. Irvine fondled his own idly as he conjured up the image. Long and thick, curving out just a little as if to show off the pinkened, glistening, moist head. "Ohh, gods, gorgeous..." Irvine moaned, cupping his hand around the tip of his own penis and rubbing it in a slow circle. Squall's heavy cock looked absolutely luscious in his mind's eye. He licked his lips, almost able to taste the salty tang on his tongue.

Fantasy needs no laws of physics or time, and so in an instant Irvine imagined Squall straddling his chest, teasing his lips with that beautiful smooth head. Squall would pry his lips open with it, one of those beautiful hands wrapped around the shaft, and just barely thrust the tip in and out between Irvine's lips. He was stroking himself steadily now, cupping his sack and rubbing sensitive skin with his thumb, but his fantasy was concentrated on Squall's delicious cock fucking his mouth.

Irvine had long suspected that his mouth and his dick were directly connected by some alien nerve that other people didn't have. Giving head never failed to get him hard, and even daydreaming about it had him rock-solid and leaking. He wanted it to go on forever, he wanted it to never stop, but he wanted Squall to fuck him even more.

There was no need to imagine seduction, preparation, or the fumbling and frustrating slowness of trying to find each other's rhythm the first time. All he had to do was imagine Squall's long, hot body above him, making him spread his legs. And he did, he spread wide, begging his imaginary lover for it. "Fuck, yes, get it in me Squall! Give it to me, want it so bad, fuck me with it!" he pleaded into the dark, watching the vision in his mind looming over him. In his palm, his erection was throbbing, growing hotter and even stickier with every breathless gasp. Would Squall fuck him silently? Would he get to hear the man moan? Tonight it would be without a sound, a deep and steady and wordless fucking because dream-Squall wanted to be in Irvine as badly as Irvine wanted the real Squall buried in his ass.

Actually being fucked by Squall Leonhart was surprisingly the most difficult thing Irvine had to imagine. He could almost feel the flexing hips pounding between his thighs and the hot body moving on top of him, but trying to *feel* Squall's cock inside was next to impossible. Nothing he imagined would be as good as the real thing. But Irvine could stroke his own aching erection and dream about it.

His hand was flying now over his shaft, no longer wanting to linger in the fantasy. He just wanted to come, to feel Squall come inside him.

"Harder, baby, fuck, yes, just like that... fuck, yeah, want you to come in me, give it to me... Squall..." Great gods, he wanted that cock in his body so badly, Irvine was aching for it. He spread his thighs wide, thrusting up into his hand, his other hand gripping the soft inside of his thigh as he would grip Squalls hips while the man rode him. "Fuck me, harder, Squall, yeah, yours, fuck, yours...!"

Irvine came hard, hot wetness spreading on his belly as his cock spasmed in his hand, spurting thick come onto his skin. The warmth spread out from his groin as he shuddered, gasping Squall's name in a breathless whisper. He hadn't gotten too loud, no more than harsh breathing in the quiet of the room.

No one would have heard, and no one would know. Better that way for now, Irvine thought hazily as he lay with his hand on his softening penis, panting in the dark. But only for now. Irvine didn't intend Squall to be a fantasy for long.