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SquallxZell 0\_0 x ^_^}

By Tenshi no Korin

Zell Dincht was a body that, once in motion, remained in motion. Never still, he was constantly bouncing on his heels, shadowboxing the wall, gesticulating wildly to emphasize his points.

He called Squall 'Baby'.

Squall Leonhart was a young man whose skills at appearing indifferent were so honed that he actually felt indifferent. Most of the time. Zell inspired emotions that Squall rarely had to deal with.

Like wondering how long he could keep Zell stuffed in a closet or if it would be better just to hold his nose and jump in one of the garden's fountains- either way for a few moments of blissful silence.

It was exactly for the above reasons that Squall completely failed to recognize Zell when he happened upon him in the Balamb Garden training center.

Zell was still and perfectly quiet, leaning against a fallen mammoth tree trunk, bright eyes closed against the filtered, rainforest sunlight.

Squall's first impulse was to sneak away before he got cornered into actually having to listen to a Dincht Ramble(tm); but his conscience got the better of him. What if the tattooed goofball had injured himself? Gotten nailed with a sleep spell? Something could just stroll up and have him for a snack.

Squaring his shoulders in his jacket and knowing he'd regret his sudden attack of Nice, Squall took three brisk strides forward and waved a hand in front of Zell's face. "Zell? Are you dead?"

"Not lately." Zell flashed him a trademark grin before opening his eyes, winking at him. "S’up, hotshot?"

Squall frowned with a faint displeasure at Zell's lack of post-mortem status, and turned on his booted heel to leave. There was a rustle of foliage and Zell was in front of him again, not even winded. Damn the twerp was fast. "What is it, Zell?" (Since I apparently can't leave till I find out..)

"I shoulda known you'd be here. Ya don't QUIT, do you? I mean, you pass your freaking exam so smooth you make the rest of us look like cafeteria waffles, kick some SERIOUS ass, get SEIFER to applaud you and what're ya doin'?" Zell flung an arm wide to indicate the training center. "PRACTICING!" he shook his head in mingled admiration and disbelief.

Squall put a hand on his belted hip, rubbing the scarred bridge of his nose irritably. "Yes well your compliments are very nice, Zell, but if you'd just come get me when you have a POINT- "

"Hey, waitup a sec, gezz." Zell caught the other SeeD cadet's arm, looking a bit uncertain. "I didn't mean to embarrass you or nothing. I just was waiting here so I could tell you something." He dropped his hand on the furred collar when Squall eyed it as if it was something a passing seagull had deposited there.

Squall, knowing protest would only lengthen this encounter, waited for Zell to spill whatever problem he had onto Squall's lap so Squall could officially declare his complete lack of giving a shit. "Make it fast. I'm supposed to be getting ready for the reception."

Zell arched a pale brow. "The one that doesn't start for another four hours? Gimme another one. Look, it's no big deal, but I just wanted to tell you thanks. I mean, I don't think I woulda done so hot on this exam if it weren't for you, and you kinda saved my ass about six THOUSAND times-"

Squall nodded rapidly to forestall one of Zell's attacks of hyperbole. "Yeah well, you're welcome. Don’t worry about it." Squall disentangled himself from Zell's earnest gaze, the young man looked alarmingly sincere when he was serious, and actually rather civilized without the lunatic smirk. He made it as far as the wooden dock before a steady rattle to his right snared his attention. Zell had bypassed the walkway entirely, swinging hand over hand on the metal fencing.

"Hey, Leonhart?"

"Don't call me that," Squall bristled, wondering if there were any carnivorous fish in the training center waters, and whether it would be worth tossing Zell in to find out. "What?"

"You took Combat Psychology 305, right?"

Squall gave up, knowing he wasn't going to get out until Zell was done with him. "Yeah. It is kind of required?"

Zell began to do chin-ups on the cable he was hanging from, lower arms flexing, sneakered toes a long, rocky drop away from the water below. "You remember... uffthirteen... the section on... fourteen... post combat stress factors? Fifteen...Side effects?

Squall, watching him, began to feel the faintest tremors of... something. It reminded him all too much of what he felt around Seifer so he tidily labeled it "Unease."


"Huh." Zell flipped himself upwards in a perfect twist-dismount from the fencing, landing with an echoing thump in a crouch by Squall's feet. Squall shifted his weight, unnerved in spite of himself. He was overly aware of Zell's eyes, surveying him almost predatorily from knees to nose as the martial artist straightened. He flashed back vividly to the concepts covered in that section of the course, and like a doctor recognizing his own symptoms as something fatal, Squall became acutely, uncomfortably aware of WHY he wanted to retreat to his room for a few hours of privacy. He blamed his unsettledness for the involuntary flinch as Zell extended a curious finger and traced it boldly down the scar Squall wore like warpaint. A faint tremor followed it swiftly, a coiled reaction between his thighs that Squall was unbraced for.

"Y'know you should thank that Seifer bastard for giving you this. It suits you."

The violation of Squall's personal space finally registered in his startled synapses, and his hand shot up to push Zell's away from his face. Zell, being the skilled martial artist he was, took the carefully planned opening he had made.

Squall blinked in shock; Zell's mouth on his own was as hot and unpredicted as the guardian thunderbird he called during battle. His scent flared in Squall's lungs: ozone and oranges, not benign taste of nectar but the hot sharp sting that made your lips tingle.

Like Squall's were tingling, slack with surprise. Zell pressed his advantage, fingerless gloves knotting in the front of Squall's jacket.

The blow came so fast Zell couldn't block it, but he probably wouldn't have even if he could. He landed squarely on his ass on the dock. Zell grinned, tongue darting out to taste the trickle of blood on the corner of his lip, bitter copper salt of victory. It was rare to see Squall so off guard.

Squall completely failed to follow through, hand hovering over his mouth, rare confusion flickering in cool grey eyes. It turned to slow anger like storm clouds on the horizon; he reached down and hauled Zell up by the front of his black tank top. Zell let him do it without even a modicum of resistance, it was worth having the shit beat out of him to have kissed Squall Leonhart- SeeD Cadet and Professional Iceberg.

He'd wanted to do it since he was twelve, anyway.

"Get this straight, Zell Dincht." Squall's tone was as sleek as a virgin glacier, sliding over Zell frostily. "Nobody does that to me and gets away with it."

And Squall promptly kissed him back.

Zell's eyelids fluttered closed. Squall's kisses were like his combat: swift, clean, deadly; even the unconscious sway of his hips was the same. Zell felt his hit points scatter to the wind as he was efficiently subdued.

"Is this the part where you protest your undying devotion to me?" Squall looked like he'd rather have his vital organs removed. "Because if it is-"

"If what?" Zell's voice was thick with disdain. "I got better things to do than recite gooshy chick poetry to the resident polar bear. This is a post-combat sexual side effect and I thought it might be a little nicer with two." Zell's metal-clad knuckles flashed as he ran an impatient hand through his hair. "D'you wanna fuck, Squall, or are you too damn good for that?"

Squall wasn't prepared to have this option show up on his list, and resorted to his usual silence while he muddled things through. Zell, taking that for his answer and too rattled to think clearly, made a noise of disgust and turned to go.


Sneakers squealed in surprised halt. "What wazzat?"

Squall shifted his weight, eyeing his teammate levelly. "I want to. Is here okay?"

Zell looked about thoughtfully. "That t-rex or other local nasties could find us any minute. "

Squall's lips tightened in almost a shadow of a smile. "I know."

Zell smirked. "Damn but I like how you think."

A secluded patch of vegetation wasn't hard to find, tucked in against a disused section of fencing and behind a thick screen of leaves and tree cover. Squall wound up wedged against the fence with a faint rattle of rusting metal cables; fingers tangled in Zell's hair, mouths locked in a fierce kiss. Zell smuggled a hand between the tight press of their bodies, running it over the front of Squall's leather jeans to feel his reaction in stark relief against his palm, bound uncomfortably by crossed leather belts. Squall made the faintest of sounds into Zell's mouth, pressing his hand over Zell's, asking for more pressure.

Zell had more than a grope in the bushes in mind, and the offending belts dropped into the foliage with a muted clatter of protest, fastenings undone ith deft fingers. Squall had the briefest glance of maverick smirk before Zell vanished from his field of vision, warm breath stirring against his aching sex as it was lifted gently away from the confines of his clothing.

"Beautiful, baby." Zell sat back on his haunches to admire the exposed V of white skin framed in black, his fingertips fluttering with interest and a touch of reverence over the hard curve of Squall's need. "Damn fine." He shoved a fall of grey t-shirt out of his way, head tilting and raining kisses swiftly down the other cadet's tense abdomen.

Squall hissed as hot wet mouth drew him in all the way without a fraction of hesitation, hipbones held to brace him as he lovingly drew him in and out, tongue cradling the subtle arc of Squall's sex.

Squall gripped the cable behind him until it nearly cut through his gloves, his eyes shutting as he discovered a truly glorious way to shut Zell Dincht up. Who knew that constant chatter could train a jaw to keep such torturously gentle pressure, throat constricting expertly and sending blossoming waves of heat radiating out from between his legs, easing the ache that had been there since this afternoon.

He’d barely made it into the launch, dripping with seawater and wet sand, still hearing the relentless metal grind of that mechanical spider chasing them down. Zell had been the one to punch the airlock and haul him the rest of the way in after the outer doors had closed, stripping him out of his clammy sodden uniform jacket and making sure he was uninjured. Squall had been too wiped to do more than let him. Zell again earlier, waiting for Squall’s verdict of command instead of Seifer’s, so fast to obey or agree if it was what Squall wanted, Zell summoning cure in blooming green fireworks from his fingertips, washing away Squall's injuries...

And Zell was here to tell SQUALL thank you, when really Squall hadn’t done shit but stand beside him and fight. In his usual oblivion, he’d failed to notice what anyone could see: that Zell admired him, wanted him.

Probably even Seifer could see it.

And that particular thought brought a genuine smile to Squall’s face, the curve of his lips undoubtedly smug. Serve the psychotic bastard right for all he’d done, and tried to do.

With that thought in mind he gave himself up to Zell’s skilled ministrations.

"Uhn…Uhn…like that…" Squall’s groans of pleasure were echoed by the fencing in protest as he clutched it hard, hips pushing unconsciously into the warmth of Zell’s lips. Lightning licked in wicked edged waves along his nerves, denoting an impeding strike, raising the hair on the back of his neck like the energy flux of magic.

"Zell-" He warned softly, fingers too tight in gloves and clenched suddenly in soft blond hair. "Zell- "

But Zell did not pull away, moving with even more determination into Squall’s frenetic rhythm, arms locked around his waist. Squall felt a quiet implosion of heat that quickly reversed itself into a hot explosive rush of blinding sensation, rippling from fingers and toes to ground zero in Zell’s body, chest heaving for air as he came. His knees nearly buckled and he was distantly aware of Zell supporting him, moaning quietly around him as he savored every bittersweet salt drop before regretfully releasing Squall from the hot prison of his mouth.

Squall was panting; lips dry, eyes slowly opening to the glassed sky of the training center. "God… Zell. "

The martial artist gained his feet with ease, grinning a bit breathlessly and not with the conceit Squall’s last lover had worn after making him come. "Feel better?" Zell dared to push back brown silk bangs; somehow touching Squall’s face was more private than sucking him. "You okay?" He straightened Squall’s clothing, tucking him back into his jeans and replacing the discarded belts.

Squall nodded uncertainly, gaining his second wind. "Thanks."

"No problemo, baby. Anytime." He was halfway out of the small thicket before it registered to Squall that he was leaving, and he barely managed to catch Zell’s shoulder. "Where’re you goin'?" Squall’s eyebrows lowered in his habitual frown. "We’re not done here."

Zell’s blink of bewilderment was astonishingly genuine. "I thought you just wanted-"

"You THOUGHT, did you? I’ll have to fix that." Squall had Zell backed up against a tree trunk before he realized quite what he was doing, some quiet drive kicking to life inside him. Black kidskin leather-sheathed fingertips found their way under Zell’s tight tank top, discovering one nipple and teasing it until he felt the other cadet surrender, struggling to breathe.

"Just what kind of guy do you think I am? That I wouldn’t return the favor?" Squall quirked an eyebrow questioningly.

Zell twisted as velvet soft leather purred over his skin, shamelessly turning him on so much inside his clothes, stroking a slow path down his abdomen. "No… No Sir," Zell returned unsteadily, the sound of his high-belted shorts being undone was deafening in the quiet air of the training center.

Sueded leather glove delved in and cradled the burning between his legs, shaping and squeezing with quiet expertise. Squall’s lips traced a path from tattoo to collarbone, and sank teeth in with just enough of a sting. Zell was rendered speechless save for a gasped invocation of Squall’s name. He had a vivid imagination and despite what he longed for he’d never believed he would ever be permitted to do to Squall what he had just done, much less be retaliated against.

The first touch of lips to the tip of his sex was a shock after being used to the gloved hands, and Zell groaned audibly as kidskin-wrapped palms preceded the warm welcome slide into Squall's mouth. Zell combed his hands repeatedly though cobweb fine brown hair, shivering as it teased his bared thighs.

Squall was skilled past the level of natural talent, and while Zell thought himself pretty slick for doing so well on his first fellatio (and on the resident glacier no less) Squall was… the only word Zell’s fevered mind would produce was ‘trained’. Banked fire cradled between his lips, his teeth a gentle danger and his tongue pure affection, then a rumbling purr like a lion and Zell couldn’t endure any more.

Chills shot up his spine and turned to warm melting water in his bones- no self- given gratification could even come close to the sudden, inexplicable detonation of magic through his veins, of Squall’s mouth hot and steady between his thighs, swallowing greedily as he came helplessly.

Zell realized belatedly his cheeks were wet and he rubbed his cheek roughly on his collar. It wouldn’t do for Squall to see THAT, not if he ever wanted this again. Squall had learned how to do that somewhere, and Zell was afraid he knew where, a name that tasted of steel hovering unspoken.

"You okay, man?" Squall was suddenly Squall Leonhart once more, cool and only distantly concerned, as if Zell had faltered in combat.

Zell, unwontedly silent, nodded.

"Damn." Squall scowled at his chronometer. "I was supposed to meet Instructor Trepe fifteen minutes ago." He looked up at Zell, the moment tense and surreal as they both faltered for what to say. Zell finally laughed it off.

"Fuck, I dunno what the protocol is either, Baby. Just go. I’ll see you later."

And if Squall hesitated or looked back as he left Zell did not see it, staring hard at the manacled sky above the massive room and refusing to watch Squall go. When Zell finally exited the training area he left a

mile-wide swath of destruction in the monster population that would take the rapid-breeding lifeforms weeks to recover from.

Zell, after twenty minutes of Squall, wondered if he ever would.


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