Author: Lipstickcat
E-mail: [email protected]
Pairing: Nida/Nida, Nida/Squall
Rating: Nc-17
Summary: Nida plays out a fantasy
Warnings: Masturbation
Disclaimer: They don�t belong to me. If they did, my Nida muse would be a much happier bunny� possibly�
Notes: This is a prequel to the 1 hour fic The Fist and Ice Halloween Special. You don�t need to read it first, you just need to know that Selphie is throwing a fancy dress party and Nida goes dressed as Squall
***
Nida peered in the full-length mirror and carefully arranged his freshly dyed hair so that strands of fringe fell into his eyes. They were light hazel, but with strategically placed hair to break up the colour, they could easily be grey. He fingered the newspaper clipping that was wedged into the mirror�s frame. It was a very good likeness. He was quite the artist really.
Picking up the burgundy lip-liner that he had begged off Xu, he pulled the picture away. Carefully, his eyes flicking between the face in the photo and his own reflected in the mirror, he drew a line across the bridge of his nose, curving down onto his cheek.
He despised Seifer. The gunblader had achieved more than he could ever hope to do; he had stirred up emotion in Squall. He had got his blood boiling and his adrenaline raging. He had left his mark on the brunette, and Squall had left an equal one on him. They were unavoidably linked for the rest of their lives, no matter what.
Nida was jealous. He could admit to that, but he couldn�t believe that Squall had let Seifer back into Garden so willingly. Had forgiven him so easily. But Squall�s actions weren�t for him to judge.
Nida clipped on the small stud earring, also borrowed from Xu, and examined himself in the mirror. Perfect. He replaced the clipping in the mirror�s frame and sighed. Now for the finishing touch.
He turned around to his desk chair and reverently slipped off the jacket that had been carefully hanging on the back. He had asked Squall to lend it to him earlier, after a lot of deep breaths, and encouragement from Xu, and had been surprised how willing Squall had been to hand it over. The soft leather creaked as he hugged it to him and buried his nose in the silky fur. He breathed in Squall�s scent deeply; it was a mix of soap and a delicate aftershave, sitting comfortably with the salty sweat of many battles.
He watched intently in the mirror as he shrugged into the jacket. The soft lining slid over his bare arms sleekly. Squall would feel its caress over his skin every time he put it on. Pressing the collar to his face to rub his cheek against the downy soft fur, Nida wondered if that was why Squall wore the jacket. It was like a small oasis of comforting calm amongst the chaos of everyday life.
It was a perfect likeness. Too perfect; he realised with a groan that he�d copied the scar in the mirror exactly as it was in the picture. To anyone looking, it would be in reverse.
He was about to scrub the line away from his nose, but he paused as he brought his hand up. If he squinted, he really could believe that Squall was standing in front of him. Hesitantly, he stepped forward, his hand reaching out to touch his fingertips to the smooth glass surface of the mirror. He cocked his head to the side and trailed his fingers down the side of the face looking back at him, not seeing his own, but Squall�s.
He leaned forwards, slowly closing the gap as tentatively as if he really was about to kiss the brunette gunblader. His eyes drifted shut and he pressed his lips to the cold glass. He moved his lips in an imitation of gentle probing kisses, imagining that he wasn�t kissing the smooth surface, but full cushioned lips that responded to his ministrations in kind. The glass warmed with his stuttering breath as it condensed slickly on the surface. His hands pressed against the mirror as he pushed himself into the fantasy, envisioning that he was leaning against a wall with Squall between him and it. He tongued at the glass, licking up moisture as if it were another�s.
Breathing harshly, he pulled back slightly and, still leaning with one hand against the mirror, ran his fingers down the length of the reflected body. Then he stroked his palm down his own body, fingers splayed. He bent his arm and he lent against the mirror, his elbow resting against the surface, with his forehead against the worn leather of the sleeve. He watched the reflection as his hand untucked the white t-shirt and drifted inside to smooth over tender skin and gentle muscle.
He wondered briefly if Squall ever touched himself like this, before deciding that, yes, of course he did. And it would look just like this.
His hand slid lower, out from under the top and undid the buckle of the first belt, followed by the top button of the trousers. He unbuckled the other two belts, one of which slid from the single loop it hung by and clattered to the floor, curling at his feet. The other belt hung by his side. He pulled the zipper down slowly, watching vigilantly in the mirror. This was what it looked like for Squall to be undressed by someone. By him.
The tearing click of each metal zip releasing rung through Nida�s mind, increasing the animalistic need in him. His breath heaved out in keening gasps, clouding up the mirror around his face and making it easier to believe that the foggy blur gazing back at him when his attention occasionally flicked upwards was Squall.
He reached inside his trousers and his underwear, releasing his arousal, already rigid in his hand. He pumped it gently, watching the fluid strokes in the mirror, wishing that he could reach through the glass and take the reflection�s erection in his hand. Wishing that it was Squall that he was touching.
He watched the cock in the mirror, the hand curled tightly around it, stroking it up and down. The tip glistened as moisture leaked from it, slicking his palm and making the movement over the velvety flesh smoother.
Did Squall ever do this? Jack off in the bathroom or in a darkened alleyway, still clothed? Did he feel the strange chill of the air against his sensitive wet skin, a contrast to the rest of his warm, clothed body? Did he feel the brush of leather against his thigh and the sharp cold of the metal zip against his dick? Did he hear the jangle of buckles and feel the loose hanging belts swing against his sides as his pace picked up and he rocked into his palm?
A million different scenarios played out in Nida�s head; Squall alone, Squall with him, Squall with other people. All fantasies he�d played over a million times before, but this time with the added stimulation of Squall�s scent around him and on him, and the almost believable reflection, performing the hand job in front of him.
Nida bit his lip as the spark of orgasm crept up on him. He thrust into his hand and grunted, before moaning as he came over the mirror.
Gasping for breath and shaking slightly, Nida stood back. His hand trembled as he rebuttoned the trousers. Leaving the belts for the moment, he went into the bathroom to get some tissue to clean up with. Part of him wanted to sit down and sleep off the gnawing feeling that was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. Another part of him wanted to do it all again. But, he had a scar to put right and a party to go to. Maybe he�d try to talk to Squall properly tonight, he could do it with a little Dutch courage.
Maybe he�d get lucky and get to see the real thing in action.