He knew what he was doing. Man, that boy knew exactly what he was doing. I mean, you honestly think he wore all that leather because he liked it? Squall Leonhart wore all that kinky gear for one reason and one reason only: He loved to tease.

I just can't understand how other people could miss it. He oozed sex, all the while pretending to be an antisocial prick oblivious to the fact that he looked like a fuckin' wet dream.

People noticed how he looked and definitely responded. On the coldest winter day if you followed Leonhart around you'd notice the people left in his wake got all hot and bothered. Anyone who had eyes ended up admiring that profile. That hair, those lips and eyes, and- most of all- that sexy ass accentuated by his oh-so-tight leather pants. It didn't matter how straight a guy was; you instinctively react to a gorgeous body like that.

I don't know why I'm the only one who can watch him walk and recognize the subtle and silent way he flirts, but I am. It isn't just 'cause I knew him when we were kids; I've seen the way Dincht looks at him. Irvine, too, but that's no surprise.

Squally-boy sure does enjoy his power. He's the world's biggest tease: so scared of physical contact and flat-out terrified of emotional intimacy. He's perfected that icy persona. Intimidating silences, deadly glares, the complete asexual air of his. Despite his allure and sexual magnetism, no one thinks seriously for one moment of approaching him. He's put himself on a pedastal so high above them that there are rumors going around about how he isn't even human. "Shiva's Son," I've heard them say.

That's why I called him "Puberty Boy." Not because he was young or naive, but because he could get a nine-year-old hard. It's early adolescence when Squall's around.

I wonder how'd he react if I confronted him with it. Tell him "I know what you're doing. I've got you all figured out." Would he squirm? Would he play innocent or coy? Would he glare or look away? If I pinned him against a wall, how would his body respond? Would he cringe away or press against me?

I'd be the first one to tell you that he makes me hot. Countless times I've held my cock in my hand, jerking myself off while imagining how he'd look/smell/taste while tangled in my bedsheets. Wondering what kinds of sounds he makes when he comes.

I've narrowed it down to gasps and purrs. Cinnamon and honey. Ivory and rose.

Yep, he knows exactly what he's doing. And I know it too.