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Title: After a wedding.
Description: Mpreg arc. I wrote this for Race's birthday, and it kept growing... and growing... Warning for MPreg, of course. Set in a world where time compression didn't end, and Squall's team failed in their battle against Ultimecia.
Pairing: seifer/squall
Rating: PG
Word count: 585
Notes: Drabbles/ficlets tend to be written at work, so they're not as lucid as some of my writing. They're also completely unbeta'd unless otherwise stated, please forgive this.
Leon giggled delightedly as he kicked at the snow, watching it fly from the tips of his shiny black boots with the glee only a child could manage. Every now and then he looked up to confirm that his bearer was still nearby and still watching him.
Of course, Squall was. The red velvet jacket, lined with snow white fur that he’d chosen as Leon’s wedding outfit was eye-catching enough on it’s own to have everyone who happened past looking at him, let alone the blonde curls that framed his pale face or the big blue grey eyes that had Seifer giving him anything he wanted already.
He’d snuck out of the wedding party to feed Leon and give him a chance to play – he was a quiet boy around others, a haunting little echo of the past. Seifer had noticed that too, and Squall was sure that was why he spoiled the baby at every chance he got.
Not only that, but the party had been getting to him too. He loved his friends, loved to see them but he just wanted five minutes to himself before facing them again.
Hanging on to the end of the bench, not quite confident enough to venture out into the snow on his own without support yet, Leon crouched down to try and scoop a handful of the cold white powder with little success. The woollen mittens meant to keep his fingers warm out near the little ice sculpture that Shiva herself had created as the site for their wedding ceremony impeded his attempts.
Huffing, Leon kicked the snow and folded his arms – mimicking one of his sisters and fell back onto his butt in the snow.
“Pouty little thing.”
Seifer stepped from behind the bench – Squall hadn’t even heard his approach despite the snow which was knee deep in places – picking the young boy up and swinging him under one arm. Squall’s breath always caught in his throat when he saw his children treated with such abandon, even though they giggled all the time and he trusted Seifer implicitly, he couldn’t help but be afraid for them.
“Saw you sneak out. Gave you ten minutes but now I need to bring you back in squirt. And the little squirt too,” Seifer said, sitting down on the bench beside Squall and plonking the boy in his lap. Leon threw what little amount of snow he’d managed to gather at his father, looking less than pleased.
“He was getting cranky,” Squall shrugged in explanation, smiling as Seifer’s arm wound around his shoulder and pulled him closer.
“And so were you? Next time tell me.”
Squall half turned his head to look at the silver-grey coloured wedding ring on Seifer’s third finger on his shoulder, a feeling of smug possessiveness asserting itself at the back of his head. “I like it when you guess and sneak up on me.”
“Mmm,” Seifer purred, kissing Squall’s temple. “Wasn’t that how we ended up with the third kid?”
Chuckling, Squall nodded. “So… when do we get this happy ever after?”
Seifer looked back over his shoulder at the glittering ice church courtesy of the ice goddess herself. “Now, I think. This is certainly the fairytale ending. Buuuuut if you really want to know, probably in about seventeen years when this one moves out and we get the place to ourselves.”
Squall smiled, catching Seifer’s hand with his own and squeezing it, turning to kiss his husband on the cheek. “Now sounds perfect.”
Description: Mpreg arc. I wrote this for Race's birthday, and it kept growing... and growing... Warning for MPreg, of course. Set in a world where time compression didn't end, and Squall's team failed in their battle against Ultimecia.
Pairing: seifer/squall
Rating: PG
Word count: 585
Notes: Drabbles/ficlets tend to be written at work, so they're not as lucid as some of my writing. They're also completely unbeta'd unless otherwise stated, please forgive this.
Leon giggled delightedly as he kicked at the snow, watching it fly from the tips of his shiny black boots with the glee only a child could manage. Every now and then he looked up to confirm that his bearer was still nearby and still watching him.
Of course, Squall was. The red velvet jacket, lined with snow white fur that he’d chosen as Leon’s wedding outfit was eye-catching enough on it’s own to have everyone who happened past looking at him, let alone the blonde curls that framed his pale face or the big blue grey eyes that had Seifer giving him anything he wanted already.
He’d snuck out of the wedding party to feed Leon and give him a chance to play – he was a quiet boy around others, a haunting little echo of the past. Seifer had noticed that too, and Squall was sure that was why he spoiled the baby at every chance he got.
Not only that, but the party had been getting to him too. He loved his friends, loved to see them but he just wanted five minutes to himself before facing them again.
Hanging on to the end of the bench, not quite confident enough to venture out into the snow on his own without support yet, Leon crouched down to try and scoop a handful of the cold white powder with little success. The woollen mittens meant to keep his fingers warm out near the little ice sculpture that Shiva herself had created as the site for their wedding ceremony impeded his attempts.
Huffing, Leon kicked the snow and folded his arms – mimicking one of his sisters and fell back onto his butt in the snow.
“Pouty little thing.”
Seifer stepped from behind the bench – Squall hadn’t even heard his approach despite the snow which was knee deep in places – picking the young boy up and swinging him under one arm. Squall’s breath always caught in his throat when he saw his children treated with such abandon, even though they giggled all the time and he trusted Seifer implicitly, he couldn’t help but be afraid for them.
“Saw you sneak out. Gave you ten minutes but now I need to bring you back in squirt. And the little squirt too,” Seifer said, sitting down on the bench beside Squall and plonking the boy in his lap. Leon threw what little amount of snow he’d managed to gather at his father, looking less than pleased.
“He was getting cranky,” Squall shrugged in explanation, smiling as Seifer’s arm wound around his shoulder and pulled him closer.
“And so were you? Next time tell me.”
Squall half turned his head to look at the silver-grey coloured wedding ring on Seifer’s third finger on his shoulder, a feeling of smug possessiveness asserting itself at the back of his head. “I like it when you guess and sneak up on me.”
“Mmm,” Seifer purred, kissing Squall’s temple. “Wasn’t that how we ended up with the third kid?”
Chuckling, Squall nodded. “So… when do we get this happy ever after?”
Seifer looked back over his shoulder at the glittering ice church courtesy of the ice goddess herself. “Now, I think. This is certainly the fairytale ending. Buuuuut if you really want to know, probably in about seventeen years when this one moves out and we get the place to ourselves.”
Squall smiled, catching Seifer’s hand with his own and squeezing it, turning to kiss his husband on the cheek. “Now sounds perfect.”
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