Better Than Sex
By T-Bandit
Author's Notes: This vignette was inspired by Linkin Park’s ‘Hybrid Theory’ and a big fight with my landlady. I wish I had my own Balamb G training room where I could kickbox my stress away – lucky Zell.
Better Than Sex
By T-Bandit
"Fucking bitch!"
Panting, cussing in his fevered eagerness, Zell attacked the punching bag with all the fury of a hurricane, feeling the satisfying meaty impact of the leather against his gloved fists.It was almost as good as the real thing...
Bouncing lightly on his heels, the compact martial artist whirled away from the hanging bag and threw his leg up in a vicious kick that sent the long black bag swinging crazily, the steel chains rattling a harsh accompaniment to Zell's grunts and breathless snarls. Beads of sweat were collecting on the tensed muscular flesh of his forearms, and when his knuckles crashed against the leather in a swift one-two combination, the liquid proof of his exertion showered off his skin.Zell licked sweat off his upper lip and shook his head to keep the salty rivulets running down from his hairline from getting into his eyes.
It felt so good to be kicking the shit out of something, feeling his body pulse with throbbing hot energy and savoring the way his lungs were starting to burn.He was so close to that point where his body moved to another plane, a place of pure pained euphoria where the unbearable intensity made him feel like he could almost spontaneously combust into a crackling, sparking fireball...Where it hurt so beautifully and completely that he couldn't breathe, see, hear, or feel... Only his pure pulsing life energy was real, and achingly overpowering.
Zell's movements were a brutal ballet of nimble dodges and merciless, impossibly swift attacks.He danced in the shadowy twilight of the private training room, the small space thick with the heat rising off of his body and the palpable intensity of his concentrated aggression.He could smell his own sweat and it made him hungrier for more, possessed by the need to wring himself dry that came upon him every time he trained.
There was only one way to make this even better...
Zell stepped away from the hanging bag and grabbed a CD case off the top of his duffel, jogging in place as he popped it open with one hand and inserted the disc into the stereo system mounted in the wall.There were definite benefits of being a SeeD at Balamb; Balamb G had some of the nicest, most well equipped training facilities to be found anywhere.Zell had made the CD himself, and when he cranked up the volume and hit the play button, the fierce pumping beat of his currently favored techno mix filled the tiny studio, making Zell's blood pulse faster through his veins as his heart picked up the pace to match the base line of the song.
Throwing his punches in perfect time to the music, feeling his shins crash solidly against the tough leather in exact unison with the rising crescendos, Zell lost himself entirely in the orgasmic mindlessness of a perfect workout.The burn in his lungs now matched the searing in his muscles, and when he sobbed for breath he could actually taste his intense gratitude that he was still able to reach this blessed nirvana of agonizing exhaustion.Every day he strived to find it, and every day he was amazed at how much it gave him; how strongly it defined his sense of self: his own personal heaven.His Final Heaven.
Once he'd found paradise he didn't ever want to leave... But after what felt like mere moments, the CD's 12 tracks had spun out into the sultry, heavy air and silence settled over the room, punctuated by Zell's desperate panting breaths as he allowed his movements to subside into stillness.
Shirtless, soaking wet, he shivered as the thin streams of perspiration running through the sharp valleys of his well-defined muscles cooled, moving as light and sweet against his heated skin as the tantalizing caresses of a lover.Closing his eyes and listening to his heart beat, Zell inhaled deeply of the thick air of the room, smelling the scent of human exertion, fully sensing the shadowed darkness and the solitude...
Zell caught his thoughts wandering to scenes of two bodies moving smoothly in tandem in a musk perfumed darkness like the one surrounding him then; slick fair skins sliding smoothly together in the mingled body heat that rose to surround them, pleasured moans and deep aching pleas for more shimmering through the shadowed dimness, a flash of golden hair and endless blue-green eyes...
Shaking his head to clear it, Zell grabbed his towel and wiped the sweat off his face and upper body, pulling a clean shirt over his head and zipping up his duffel after slinging the CD carelessly inside.
It did no good to fantasize about things that would never come to be, and fuck Seifer for tempting him anyways.He didn't stand a chance of getting into the other man's bed...
... And that was for the best.Training and the thrill of the fight were better than sex.Better than Seifer...Honest.
Shouldering his duffel and exiting the training room, Zell tried to ignore how hard it was to convince himself that that was true...