Accept Me

Chapter 2

By Sukunami


Honestly, I've never had a headache as a result of thinking too much.  There just isn't enough in my life to question or think about.  But then I have to go and find this 'god' that manages to distort the reality of my existence within one day.  Fuck, I didn't even get to enjoy a drop of alcohol for this heavy pounding within my skull.

The culprit in question walks steadily beside me as if the bag he's carrying doesn't weigh twice my body weight.  Squall hasn't spoken since this morning when he gave me a long and painful explanation about androids.  It's so hard to look at that... human body, that deity and know that it isn't real somehow.  I shiver at the memory of him slicing his finger deep enough to show me the metal that replaces his bones.  Idiot.  So willing to prove to me that he's a 'toy', but I clearly saw the great pain it caused him.  As if I want him to do something that would hurt him.  And he didn't even look afraid of that pain, or maybe he doesn't experience fear.

"Say, I've got a question."

He continues to stare blankly ahead, giving no evidence that he heard me.

"Hey!  Scrap metal!"

Well, I think he might have blinked that time.


He jerks to a halt, then looks at me with relatively wide eyes.  "Master?"

Holding back a groan, I cover my face with a hand.  "Don't tell me we're starting from the fucking beginning here."

His eyes narrow slightly in thought, just like every other time when he tries to speak my name.  "What is it, Seifer?"

"Gee, try not to sound too excited.  Hate to drag you away from ignoring me."

Those electric storm eyes glare at me in a silent scold that says he didn't purposefully ignore me.

My lips curl in a smirk before I step forward to continue our journey, him soon following by my side again.  "I've been thinking about what you told me this morning.  So, in a sense, you're just machinery, right?  Like the stuff in your bag that protected us last night?"

He huffs.  "I'd hope you realize I'm a bit more sophisticated than that, but technically that's correct."

"Then, do you have any feelings?"

"Feelings aside from touch and pain..."  He sighs.  "It's a long debated question, but I don't believe I feel in the sense you mean."

"Really?  So what, you're just a mimic of our gods?  Those--"  I catch myself before insulting our creators, surprised at my lack of control while talking with Squall.  "They certainly have a good handle on hate."

"Seifer, your gods are androids."

"You said that before, but I still...  I've been around them most of my life, and I know they have emotions.  Aside from their powers and knowledge, they'd be almost human."  And I'd get skinned for a comment like that anywhere else.

"Those are false emotions we learned from humans.  It's the same case of a parrot repeating spoken words, but never truly understand them."

"What the hell is a parrot?"

"A bird that could mimic the sounds of other creatures."

Clawing a hand through my hair, I try to process these words of his.  "Then you do have emotions, but you don't think they're real?"

"They aren't."

"And how can you be so certain of that?"

"What do you fear the most?"

I suppose I could lie to him, but something about him seems to draw honest words from me.  "Pain."

He looks at me oddly.  "Most respond death."

"Ah, but death would mean the end of pain."

"... ..."

I can't help but laugh at his expression.  "Did I ruin a point you were going to make?"

He frowns in reply.

"Then I guess it's my turn - did you hate your masters?"

"No."  His reply is too quick and sharp.  It's probably the way I'd answer such a question if a true god were to ask me.

"Is it you or that programming of yours talking?"

"I...  I've never thought of the difference..." and he trails off, apparently deciding to think of it now.

His lapse into silence once again is fine by me.  Truthfully, I don't mind the quiet companionship.  More times than not, I work alone on these bothersome exploration type missions.  To say the least, I'm not well liked by those of my kind.  Despite the varying animal features, we are all the same - human children that were shoved into a lab and eventually came back out more than human, or less than human depending on how you view it.  But I differ than the surviving lot of half-beasts in a way that could get me killed - I despise the High Goddess I've been trained to protect.  I think the others sense this on an instinctual level, thus they avoid me to prevent association with my sin.  I don't give a fuck.  And it's not like I can do anything about my hate.  I'd rather live like the good dog I am than be tortured to death as an example to those under the rule of the High Goddess.

Glancing at the silent deity, I wonder if that's why I'm tempted to believe his words that he isn't a god - I can't find a reason to hate him.  In fact, I don't believe I've ever be so comfortable with another being.  He just takes everything I say or do in stride, though I admit there's a curious part of me that wants to see him lose it.  Those amazing eyes of his must burn like cold fire that could destroy a soul.  It would be the opposite of the soft glow of last night, a soothing coolness as he would caress...

Tearing my eyes away from Squall, I run a hand through my hair and try to stop the direction of my thoughts.  It's wrong, worst than a sin to think of him like this.  I'd betray myself and my unspoken vows to never let myself fall under the complete control of a god.  I'll serve them.  I'll fear the pain they can cause.  I'll even suck up to them.  But I will never hand them my soul.


There's no fire this night, the lack of it reminding me how dark it can get on this planet.  Two partial moons shine in the sky, but they are too distant to provide much light.  It's for that reason we travel during the day despite the heat of the desert.  It wouldn't make much of a difference to me, but despite his heightened senses, Seifer wouldn't be able to travel safely, especially considering the monsters that inhabit the area.

There's a shift in the darkness, Seifer readjusting the large bat-like wings around his body.  Given the coldness of night and the heat of day, I'm impressed he's survived this journey, let alone not looking worse for wear.  In addition, he doesn't even carry much with him, only a small pack that hangs from his waist which carries a pathetic amount of dried food and a collapsible container he fills with water whenever given the chance.  From his words, it should take us at least a couple of weeks to return to his home.  Not seeing any sign of water in this desert, I wonder how long he could go without the life sustaining liquid.

"Last night," he starts, not looking in my direction, "why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

His eyes shift my way, only a bare amount of green visible around the dilated pupils.  "You know what."

I smile vaguely.  "You don't seem the type to be bothered with calling it by name."

He growls.  "Well, excuse me if I'm having issues with a god sucking me off."

"And that's why I did it."

"A-ah, another attempt to prove to me that you don't want to be worshipped."  His head tilts curiously.  "And why is that, exactly?"

"... ..."  Because I don't deserve it.  Because I'm just a toy.  Because he would fear me as a 'god'.  But obviously words don't seem to work for him and not even my performance was able to persuade the blonde that I serve him.  At least his wariness of me has steadily dropped off since our meeting yesterday.

"Did you hate it?  Trying to please the master you think I am."

"...No," I reply softly.  I've come to the conclusion that I can't hate anything about my masters.  And aside from that, it was interesting to examine those unusual wings and his muscled body, not to mention the amusement I found with how easily the tenseness evaporated from Seifer.  It was as if he had never been touched in such a way before.

His large wings slip back as he leans closer to me.  "Is that the real you answering?"

"I am my programming."

He smirks while slowly crawling nearer.  "And speaking my name is part of your programming?"

"I exist to please my master."

An eyebrow arches in disbelief, silently questioning me, 'why is it so hard for you to say it, then?'.

"I don't have feelings, Seifer."  There.  Only a hint of hesitation on the name, but nothing he'd notice.  Point proven.

His face is close to mine as he sits next to me.  "I don't believe you."

My eyes widen at the statement.  I should be impressed that he feels confident enough around me to disagree with one of his 'gods'.  But instead there is a sense of... dread?  Certainly confusion at what he is implying.

"You fear pain as well, don't you?"

Pain isn't good.  Pain can break me.  That's what my programming says.  But do I fear it?  If my master wants me to suffer, I can bear with that pain for as long as I must.  And I've never begged to prevent such a punishment or for it to end, so wouldn't that mean I don't truly fear it?

He breathes a laugh.  "You might blow a circuit if you keep thinking so hard about it."

"I don't know what to tell you."

The corner of his mouth slides up into a smirk before he moves in even closer, warm air now felt on my face.  "Squall, can I touch you?"

The sudden change in topic is a welcomed relief as I lie back onto the sand of the desert and look up at the part-demon with silent consent that my master shouldn't even need.  He first bushes off his hand on his pants before he places it on my exposed stomach with extreme slowness.  Green eyes are wide as the hand shifts in tiny circles, only the barest pressure applied to my body.

"It feels like skin."

I can't help a breathy chuckle, the movement of my stomach startling the blonde, but he doesn't keep his hand off for too long.


Seifer shifts his kneeling position and bushes off his other hand to encircle my slim waist with both hands.  After squeezing gently to learn more of my feel, he slides his hands slowly upwards and beneath my shirt.  He's startled again once reaching my nipples, quickly pulling back his hands and then lifting up my shirt.  Hesitantly he fingers my identification ring, his touches gradually growing rougher.  My quiet moan interrupts his stunned moment.

"It's an id ring."

I nod, arching slightly to motivate him to touch me more.  He doesn't react, however.

"But only guardians have them, not gods."

I smirk.  "So certain?  I thought they wore robes to cover their bodies."

"Well, technically..."  He shakes his head.  "No, they told me it was to mark me as the slave I am."

"If they think themselves gods, I suppose the tags could have been removed."  I press a hand against his half-bare chest and lightly stroke his exposed nipple ring.  "This may have once belong to one of your 'gods'."

The sensor within him informs me of rapid heartbeats from the bare touch of my finger, and yet his expression is thoughtful, green eyes clear of lust.  Seifer stares at me for a long time, his thumb unconsciously rolling my hardened nipple in small circles while he thinks something through.  Why do I crave for him to do something more?  But I won't beg or move under his touch, understanding he needs to reason out the contradictions I've forced upon his life.

"You'll be the death of me," he states hoarsely, and then bends down swiftly to take my lips with his.

The kiss is too rough to be purely testing, some part of Seifer knowing it's fine to do this, but it'll take much longer to drive all his doubts away.  His lips are dry and slightly cracked, the jagged flesh creating pleasurable friction against my softer lips.  I graze his lower lip with my tongue, suggesting to deepen the kiss.  He starts at the moist touch, but then accepts my offer and skims his tongue along the underside of my lips before exploring further.  Normally I lie passive in such a situation, letting my master do what he wishes, but I'm oddly curious of the feel of his elongated teeth that serve as his fangs in his half-demon appearance.

In time Seifer pulls back, lips curled back in a smirk.  "Shall I repay the service of last night?"

"That's not necessary."

"Hmm, I wonder if..." he mumbles while running a hand down my bare torso and lower.  When he cups my groin hard, I arc up and hum out my bliss.  "So, you do experience pleasure just as much as pain.  That being true, why would you refuse a chance of being sucked off?"

Eyes half-closed from the sensation of his fingers stroking my arousal, I try to focus on him.  "I wouldn't refuse.  It's just not necessary."

Chuckling, he moves to straddle over me and then slides down further while tracing bare skin with his mouth.  I watch his languid movements with part fascination, never experiencing such deliberate tenderness in combination with an air of exploration.  Reaching my stomach, there's suddenly a puff of warm breath as Seifer laughs, the vibrations of his mouth causing a cascade of pleasing shivers throughout my body.

"They were rather detailed when creating you, weren't they?" he says before nipping lightly at the edge of my bellybutton.  I stare at him, impressed by his grasp of the situation.  No, I wasn't born, so the bellybutton is certainly one of my more pointless features.

With a quiet rattle of chains, he pushes the metal leash turned belt up beyond the waistline of cloth.  He then hooks his fingers into my pants, slowly pulling them downward with a rather intent look on his face.  The friction of the fabric is maddening, but I remain still except for lifting up enough to aid Seifer in the removal of the constricting clothing.  Once my erection is free, the blonde stops briefly to stare at the length, then he hurriedly pulls the pants all the way past my knees, enabling me to bend my legs enough to get more comfortable.  He runs a finger along the underside of my arousal, forcing a whimper from me.

"Well, this has to be the most unnatural part of you," he teases.

"My masters," I pant out from his now rougher strokes, "they liked watching... me take other androids or humans."

"Hmph, so that's where our gods learned it from," he states bitterly.

I'm not given a chance to question, Seifer taking the head of my cock into his mouth.  It's at that point that I realize I forgot to ask him how I should react to his touch.  Most of masters would tell me beforehand what role I should play, but those rarely involved me being on the receiving end of such pleasure.  With 'playmates' I was usually informed to be rough when they would take me like this.  But not Seifer.  I couldn't do those things to Seifer.

Then he takes more of me, his fangs scraping lightly along the sides of my hardness.  Before I catch myself, I thrust up to feel more of the odd sensation, Seifer thankfully able to handle the extra bit I forced on him.  It's then there is a sense of horror within me, but my body refuses the command to back away from him.  What is has this man, this demon done to me?

"Stop, Seifer," I gasp out, the closest I've been to tears in most of my existence.

He slowly draws back while sucking hardily, my dick sliding out with a quiet slurp.  Seifer smirks at me questioningly, meanwhile a hand of his strokes carefully at my tense balls as if to ensure my thoughts won't clear.

"Please, stop.  I'll hurt you."  He can't fight against my strength, and I can't seem to control myself within his presence.

His grin falters slightly, but then returns even broader.  "You're afraid for me.  Why?  Because you'd be left master-less?"

I shake my head before even consciously considering what my response should be.

"Afraid for my life, then?"

It's the barest of nods, but Seifer seems to notice it.

"A-ah, but last night you said you can't hurt me."

Before giving me the chance to argue, he retakes the head of my cock into his mouth, tonguing the slit in a painfully teasing way.  So focused on not moving in order to prevent myself from hurting Seifer, I can't hold back most of the sounds he coaxes out of me.  I hate being controlled like this, but not by Seifer.  He isn't being cruel in this show of power over my ecstasy, only wishing to share this pleasure.

The sensations are overwhelming, and I can almost hear the clock within me counting down the seconds of hard earned release.  There's a hint of movement I notice beyond the static of bliss, but I don't realize what it is until a single finger presses against my asshole and slips in.  The countdown aborts, signaling the final burst of pleasure that makes a strained cry escape my lips.

An arm covering my eyes, I take the moment of darkness to restart normal functions, slowly bringing my body back under my control.  Seifer isn't helping by continuing to stroke my inner thighs with the back of his fingers.

"That was kind of disappointing."

My body tenses at the annoyed words.  Removing my arm, I look down at the man while hiding back hurt, an emotion that must be false anyway.  "I'm sorry."

He blinks, green eyes then opening wide.  "Oh, no, no, no.  Not you.  You were extremely entertaining," he says with a lopsided grin.

I frown, not too certain I care for the idea that I entertain him.  But that is suppose to be my role, right?  To entertain and please my master.  Fuck, why does this man make me question everything I am?  I blink.  Since when do I curse in my thoughts?

Chuckling, he moves forward to lay by my side, his erection clearly felt against my leg.  "What I was referring to is that I usually get a treat for my efforts."

Tenseness evaporates at his words, a vague smile appearing on my lips.  "Oh.  That option was turned off long ago.  Rich men in expensive clothing don't care for messes and stains."

After a silent moment, he sighs and rests his head on my chest while encircling my waist with a muscular arm.  Lower down I feel something brush against my leg, then remembering the dark tail of his.  The lazy strokes of the rough flesh soothes me even more.

"You really were just a toy to them, weren't you."

To them?  Why doesn't he understand that I am a toy, and not just considered one?  "And what do you think I am?"

"You are Squall."

I sigh at the ridiculous response.

"I'm serious.  You have thoughts and emotions.  You may not be made of the same stuff, but you're basically human."

I scoff.  "You wouldn't be well liked in the society of old."

"Heh, as if that'd be new."  He moves tighter against my body, reminding me of his lack of release.

"Seifer, did you want me to--"

"Nh-uh, tired and cold," he mutters while a large wing drapes across us both, the leathery folds warm and comforting.

Not needing the energy saving sleep that kept me active all these years, I only close my eyes to momentarily focus on his drawn out breaths of sleep and the feel of the larger body occasionally moving as if attempting to somehow get closer to me though he's already pressed against my body.  I decide to increase my flesh heat slightly for the night, despite it not being the best for the synthetic material.  The flesh is obviously resilient enough to survive thousands of years of time - since Seifer's so-called "Heavenly Fall" or in reality the crash of the colony ship - so a little extra abuse isn't going to cause too much harm.

My thoughts then wander for the rest of the night as I try to understand these 'emotions' Seifer has brought upon me.  Perhaps they've always been there, but I've never had a master willing enough or persistent enough to make me recognize those feelings and desires.  Well, Laguna might have given time.  His death was the only thing that made me cry in all those years past, and I was mocked for those tears.

A soft snore interrupts me from that line of memories, and I glance down at the blonde.  That could be why Seifer gets to me like no other master, because of his determination to treat me equally just as Laguna had.  Maybe this part-demon will finish the lessons that had ended so long ago.


The last few days of this return trip have been many times easier than my journey here, and I know Squall is the large factor of that.  Because of that guard system of his, I haven't been startled awake from light sleep by the sense of danger.  More so, he drives away the coldness of night.  While I haven't been able to bring myself to touch the deity in the ways I would like again, it's too hard to resist the warmth he offers me at night.  And I know he does it intentionally, his skin being typically much cooler to the touch.

Sighing and stretching my wings as we walk, I think about my words that night - 'You'll be the death of me.'  I wasn't exaggerating about that.  My sight has been altered by Squall.  I can no longer look at my gods and continue to believe them omnipotent and all-knowing beings that I once feared.  Certainly I still fear them, but now there's a small doubt within me that they can be overthrown, destroyed for the pain they've caused us.  They aren't invincible, and that thought scares me for some reason.

"Why are you taking me there?"

I nearly have a heart attack at his words, the deity never speaking first out of the blue.  After taking a calming breath, I ask, "What do you mean?"

"You hate it there.  Why go back?"

"'Cause there's no where else to go.  This planet is full of monsters and the storms can get deadly if you're caught in them.  That's why we're making a small detour since there looked to be an electrical storm further west."

"But humans have been here for thousands of years from when the colony ship crashed.  Why haven't they spread?"

After taking a moment to remember he's speaking about the Heavenly Fall, I reply without attempting to hide the bitterness from my voice.  "The High Goddess keeps a close watch on her disciples.  No birth happens without her consent.  Pure humans aren't allowed access to any of the old technologies, and they haven't the materials to create their own.  I suppose some might have escaped the city to form their own colonies, but even so, I certainly wouldn't be welcomed there.  Heh, and forget about you."

"But you'd be able to survive on your own."

I tap my id ring, the thin metal holding a tracer inside.  "She's put effort and materials into me.  I doubt the High Goddess will just let me run off."

"It pains you to lose the ring?"

I nod, repressing a shiver of that demonstration.  Though I still rank the breaking of my wings highest on the list of tortures.

"It seems Rinoa has accomplished a lot during my absence."

"Say, that's right.  You acted like you knew Her."

Blue-gray eyes narrow.  "She's probably the worst kind of genius - a hidden one."

I choke on my breath.  "Genius?!  Her?"

He glances over at me, amusement shining in his eyes.  "She's the 'High Goddess' for a reason, don't you think?"

Holding my tongue as we walk on, I wait for Squall to tell me what he may.

"Rinoa was a proto-type of Phoenix Incorporated.  She was designed to better express 'emotions' and be more sensitive of the stimulus around her.  Her creators were attempting a teenage sweetheart.  Immature and overdramatic, but caring and heartfelt as well."

I could see that, but it always fell flat from what I saw.

"Unfortunately, I don't think her creators accounted for how severe her emotions could be.  Handling rejection wasn't her forte."

"Sounds like you had experience with that."

"As I said, my master enjoyed watching me with others and he wasn't an unusual owner.  There were plenty of parties during my time on the colony ship and I met her several times.  But fortunately, my masters usually preferred me with males."

I wince at the idea of Squall pleasing the High Goddess.  "Didn't care for her?"

"She shouldn't have been created."

The seriousness of his tone chills me.  "Hate her that much, do you?"

"No.  Pity more than hate."  He sighs.  "Maybe I can explain this in more detail another time, but in short her system couldn't handle the emotions forced upon her.  And something our creators always forget, we have the potential of extremely high intelligence behind our mask of being a puppet.  The only thing that keeps us in line is our devotion to 'Master' and his or her wishes.  But Rinoa, she could hate her master."

"She rebelled?"

"I wouldn't doubt if this all started from a temper tantrum within the engine room of the colony ship.  I can't be certain about anything beyond that."

I glance at him, recognizing the half truth for what it is.  He isn't certain, but he knows on some level what happened.  But feeling the now commonplace headache from his descriptions of what I should know nothing about, I'm more than happy to let this conversation lapse into silence.  Funny how simple it is with him, that we don't have to talk.  Hell, I don't think he said more than a few sentences yesterday while I described our legends to him upon request.  He just listened silently, probably processing everything into some kind of sense he could best accept.  For me, speaking about everything I had once believed as fact was strange, oddities within those histories had suddenly become obvious.

Yes, this man will be the death of me.

"'Can you fight,' I asked.  'A little,' you said...  Squall.  What exactly do you consider adequate fighting ability?"

He frowns while continuing to treat my injured arm.

Meanwhile, I look at the scene of carnage around us, the bodies of at least fifteen desert dogs strewn in all directions.  Squall was surprised by the size of the beasts - the smallest dog's head height reached the deity's chest level, while the largest male was able to glare down at me before its attack.  At least with them being so fucking huge, you can see a pack coming from miles away due to the dust clouds they typically send up.  But our luck had us practically walk on top of a resting pack of the dogs.  Luckily, Squall was able to toss his large bag to a safer zone, thus none of his equipment was damaged.  While we don't technically need it, I'm enjoying the luxury of that energy shield of his during the nights.

I return my attention to Squall.  "I know you ripped the head off at least two of them.  Given the other body parts lying around, I'm assuming you had some fun."

"You killed your share."

I scoff.  "You made one fucking explode!"

"It bit you," he states while tightening the bandage on my arm harder than needed.

"We'll probably find bits of the thing in the city," I mutter to myself.  Using my free hand, I tilt Squall's head up for him to look at me.  "You healed your own wounds."

His eyes widen with the realization that he never asked for consent.  "Forgive--"

I press my thumb against his lips, but don't say anything while I stare into those strange eyes, the arcing electricity of blue entrancing me.  He's changing.  It's been only nine days since we met, but he's transforming right before my eyes.  While my name is still slightly accented with hesitation from these soft lips, he hasn't called me 'master' in days.  He once wouldn't speak until spoken to, the rule of most slaves whether flesh or metal.  And I swear he is trusting his emotions more, whether he believes them real or not.  Of course he doesn't really show them, but I can almost feel the stirrings beneath this lifelike skin.

Abruptly Squall jerks back and looks to the side, eyes narrowed as he scans the area.  He stands from his kneeling position and carefully walks between the dead animals.  Shrugging at his silence, I push myself up from the ground and follow not so cautiously.  I haven't a clue what has caught his interest, but I certainly don't feel anything dangerous around us.  When he pauses at one of the outlying carcasses, I step up behind him and look over his shoulder.

A small, thin dog lies next to the large head of the animal, nearly unheard whines coming from the pup.  It's amazing how these giant monsters can start off so small, but the young dog wouldn't even past my knee in height.  The existence of this pup is somewhat surprising - the season of births for the desert creatures typically happens in another couple months from now when the beasts would have moved to a water rich oasis further north.  Everyone knows to keep far away from that oasis during the birthing season since the bitches are extremely protective of their young.

Squall kneels slowly to the ground, and large dark eyes of the pup shift towards him full of wariness.  The deity does nothing else though, just looks over the starved dog.  Given a week of decent food, it'd be a miniature version of its parents.  These dogs have always reminded me of the Cerberus symbol worn by the lesser gods, though of course these beasts have only one head.  However, I'm more interested in Squall's reaction to the sight of the pup than the mutt itself.

"He's all alone now, isn't he?"

Squall flinches at my words, but continues to watch the frightened dog.

"Just like you were for too many years," I said more to myself.  "Well, what should we do with the beastie?"

"Put him out of his misery."  Spoken in such a cool, logical tone, but I can still hear the uncertainty in his voice.

"Y'know, that thing is probably young enough to be housebroken."

"This is a wild animal, Seifer."

"And I've been called the same enough times.  Go on, see if it likes you."

"He won't."  Yet Squall still leans forward as he reaches out his hand in an unthreatening manner.  There's a rather pathetic growl before the pup snaps at the extended hand.  "They hate my smell."

"I think you smell fine.  The little shit is just frightened."  Reaching into my pack, I grab a small strip of dried meat.  "Here, give it this."

He glares over his shoulder at me.  "I can't use your food for this."

"Yes, you can, because I want you to."

He frowns, but takes the meat in hand and then carefully offers it to the pup.  Again, it snaps at its space being invaded, but Squall is nothing if not patient.  Eventually the hungry beast gets a good whiff of the dried food and inch by inch approaches the offering hand.  The tough meat is almost too hard for the pup, but it manages while looking around for more.  With a cautious hand, Squall soon strokes a finger along the tan fur that matches the desert sand well.  The pup's head whips around to bite the offending hand, the deity not even wincing at the feel of sharp teeth breaking skin.  Extending his other hand, he tries to calm the young dog's worry with a light ear scratch, the touch making the mutt attack the other hand.

That goes for some time until the cowed pup eventually stumbles forward to press against Squall's legs, the beast whining for more attention and probably the feel of the deity's cooler body despite the heat of the desert.  Squall looks bewildered at the animal's sudden trust, and hesitantly takes the pup into his hold.  Standing up, he looks at me with the clear expression, 'what the hell do I do now?'.

Laughter seems to come so easy for me around this guy.  "First thing first - what are you going to name it?"

"A name?"  He looks at the resting pup, then stares at me with a slight smirk.  "How about 'Bastard'?"

I glare at him.  "Trying to tell me something?"

"No?  'Asshole'?"

I snort, then turn to walk back to where we left the bag, Squall soon following behind.


"Cute," I state dryly.

"How about 'Tiny'?"

I stop cold, then turn slowly with narrowed eyes.  "Excuse me?"

He laughs, a sound I had for some reason never imagined coming from the quiet deity.  "Thank you, Seifer."  Angling such that the young mutt wouldn't be bothered, he leans up for a brief and chaste kiss, the light press causing chills throughout my body.

Hesitantly I brush fingers along his pale cheek, then trail my hand down his neck to the black collar he wears.  "If you want to make sure the beastie sticks around, you should put this on him.  We'll even have a leash for the little shit."

Humor gone from his face, Squall stares at me with eyes wider than I've seen before.  "Remove... my collar?"

"Not like you need it anymore."

The electricity within his eyes seem too brighten with the rush of thoughts to process, but eventually he closes his eyelids and bows his head.  "Thank you," he whispers.

I have a feeling there's a load of meaning behind the removal of his collar, just like the crap he hold me about the leash.  I don't really want to know, already sick of the shit he's been forced through in his lifetime.  But when he wishes to tell me, I'll listen.  I will happily take whatever he offers me.  With him choosing to be silent for the moment, I decide to reach behind his neck and undo the clasp of the collar.  He takes an odd breath with its removal, then stares at me with an unreadable, yet intense gaze.

Breaking the pressure of the eye contact, I glance at the sleeping pup in his arms.  "No reason to wake it, but we better get going before the scavengers get a whiff of fresh meat."

He nods, then steps ahead of me to get his pack.

Fingering the stiff leather of the collar, I stare at Squall as he carefully lifts the large bag onto the shoulder of his free arm.  One more week and this thing between us should end as if it had never existed.  Even if I understand the reality behind our so-called gods, it doesn't change the fact that he'll have his role to play once we reach the city.  She'll change him.  Just as the High Goddess converted some of my 'friends', she'll make him understand the power he would hold as a 'god' within our society.  Then I'll be killed for tainting and abusing this 'confused' god.

With a bitter smirk, I decide that it'd be best to enjoy the rest of my life while I have the chance.




Author's Whining -- Hee-hee, Squall has a bigger cock than Seifie. ^_-  I couldn't resist after talking to Miss Dincht about how Squall typically 'suffers' from Seifer having a huge dick.  Note, having a huge dick, not being a huge dick, although both cases are true.  Anywho, hope things make a bit more sense about this odd world I've created.  I'm sorry for being both confusing and cryptic, but I don't like giving away too much at once.  Laguna's role in the past will be explained in the next chapter, I swear they'll get out of the desert, and there may even be room to introduce Irvine and Quistis.  I'm guessing this story will be four chapters long, but who knows what will end up happening.

As a side note, Jamaica's request was basically for "Squall is one species and Seifer is another one and those two species are incompatible or their clans hate each other or something."  I gave her a choice between three different plotlines that came to mind, and of course she choose the strangest idea of the lot. =P  Hope this is what you were expecting, Jamaica!

Return to Archive | next | previous