Monday, October 6th

Zell rolled over for what felt like the fiftieth time that night. It was the 52nd but who was counting? Well, he was. There was something undeniably nasty keeping him awake and he was damn sure it wasn't the papers he had to mark by Friday. It was much, much worse. A vision in his head, and a feeling, and a thought. Seifer, Seifer and Seifer respectively.

Zell knew the vision, the memory, was of Seifer, that was obvious, blond hair all shiny in the flickering party lights. He was drunk, seriously drunk but then so was Zell so it hardly mattered. This explained the mother of all hangovers he had been suffering all day and was only now dissipating with the darkness of night and the cool air. What he couldn't explain was what had lead him to be standing on the balcony with Seifer's arm about his waist and his shirt undone in the first place... and how the Hell that had led to waking up naked and fucked in Seifer's bed. Zell had reached the conclusion that they must have fucked; he couldn't imagine Seifer letting it go at a blowjob, especially when he was giving it not receiving. Not to mention those muscles that ached abnormally and the strange feeling in his rear...

The feeling was troubling him. It came hand in hand with the vision. The feeling of Seifer's arm slightly under his shirt, resting on the bare skin on his lower back and hip. Touching him gently but hungrily; coaxing and seductive. That was what had lured him into the other boys bed. That was what had convinced him in his inebriated state that having a quick shag with Seifer would be OK.

What fucked up part of his mind had come up with that one? Obviously some part that had absolutely no connection with his conscious mind. Seifer? Really, it was like a fairytale gone hideously wrong. They had always hated each other and that was only cause for romance in deluded romantic novels about taming rough and rude muscled men... Actually that kind of described Seifer pretty well, Zell realised.

'Now that I think about it, if one was to stick him in a kilt, give him a sword... oh wait, he's already got one of them. Give him a bad haircut and take his shirt off, it's the cover of a Mills and Boon right there. Shit...'

Zell declined from following that train of thought. Maybe Seifer was a romantic hero but Zell sure as fuck wasn't a romantic heroine. They had both been drunk. Maybe that was the point of romance novels; one had to be drunk to be a romantic hero or heroine, and one certainly had to be drunk to read them. Zell frowned, his train of thought wasn't getting him anywhere, but then he was sure it wasn't quite logical so that explained that.

It came back to the thought of Seifer though. He had to somehow get rid of this one, it was the most dangerous. The rest he could blame on alcohol (a very useful excuse for all involved) but now, as he found himself beginning to not hate Seifer with all his being, something drastic had to be done to make it *all* go away. Suddenly now he was curious about how good Seifer really was. He wanted to know if the blow-job and whatever else had gone on was truly magnificent or just so-so. This meant he was no longer thinking up ways to avoid Seifer like the plague at every time he could, he was, instead, trying to think up ways of 'accidently' coming across Seifer in the training- centre showers... which neither of them ever used because they had their own. It scared Zell to not think of Seifer as the bane of his existance at Garden. But there it was, curiousity getting the better of him again and he hated it for doing so.

Needless to say with all this treking its merry way through his mind Zell didn't get much sleep that night. Although he had successfully spent the day, Sunday, in his room avoiding everyone and trying to keep all this out of his head with sunset it had all come back. He woke the next morning, at about 6 am, cursing the very existance of alcohol for causing problems this long after the fact. No doubt Seifer was dreaming about something beautiful. Stupid bloody Seifer. He'd spent half the damn day trying to work out how he should be reacting to this new turn in their relationship and Seifer had probably wiled away the time sharpening Hyperion or something... Zell paused in his train of thought. He shouldn't have thought about Seifer's weapon, far too much could be read into that. Imagine him polishing his gunblade... Zell bit his bottom lip as he began to feel a familiar little burning in his gut. Damn that was something he'd like to see first hand. That was something he'd almost like to *feel* first hand. How could he possibly hate Seifer so much and yet think he was so damn sexy? Somehow just waking up naked beside him, just thinking about those lips curved around his cock made him all horny.

Little sleep and irritating persistant thoughts couldn't be swept aside, curiousity was niggling at him, just begging him to try it again. He'd run into Irvine at the bar on Sunday afternoon, he'd tried to cheer Zell up with lewd jokes, if anything they made it worse because every time Zell would remember Seifer naked in the bathroom door, asking for his towel back. Shit. Fuck. Dammit! This was not a good turn of events, and he couldn't even get it off his chest by talking about it with anyone. He sure as Hell wouldn't start talking about it with Irvine and Seifer probably wouldn't even give him the time of day. He decided it might be best to get some time off.

Despite what Zell thought Seifer had not slept peacefully either, the ghosts of Zell's hands kept flickering over his skin. He might not remember exactly what either of them had done but he could feel the tight grip of Zell's thighs against his sides, and he could remember the taste of his skin, sweet and salty, it almost reminded him of the beach and the place they had grown up; the lighthouse and the orphanage, and the feeling that maybe he could belong somewhere. Memories of a time when all hope for him had not been lost, when someone had still believed in him.

These self-pitying thoughts did not last long, Seifer did not believe in feeling sorry for himself, he was master of his own destiny afterall... wasn't he? And no one, not even Ultimecia could take that away from him. Why then was he thinking endlessly of the blond, hyper-active, irritating little fighter? Because Zell was the first person in a long time to treat Seifer like he was a normal teenager. He knew waking up after a heavy night with someone in the bed with you did happen to other people. From the way the stories were told it was obviously not something to be proud of but for some reason having someone there was comforting for him. Having *Zell* there was comforting because he knew exactly how the smaller boy was going to react, despite their antagonism they had grown to know each other quite well over the years. Sparing together, both physically and verbally, had brought them to recognise one another's moves; to try and think like the other in order to anticipate them.

Surprisingly it had been he and Zell who fell back into their old places the fastest after Ultimecia's defeat. Certainly, Garden, or more specifically Squall, had 'welcomed' him back (i.e. seen him as a charity case) but his position could never be as it was. Other students and some teachers regarded him as a liability, as a traitor, although it had been beyond his control. Squall and friends had almost ignored him, as though they preferred to pretend it had never happened, they were as little Seifer's friends as they had ever been. It was only through Selphie's persistance and Quistis' fierce determination that he did not turn into a slightly more agressive version of anti-social Squall, that Seifer attended any of their little gatherings. He spent the rest of his time awaiting his next SeeD mission (that's right, he'd finally passed the fucking exam), never a very important one. Only Zell acted as though nothing had changed, indeed, between them it hadn't.

In the growing morning light Seifer sighed. Fancy that, Zell was the closest thing he had to a friend. And all because the little thing couldn't shake Seifer's teasing. He had to smile at that, though he wasn't sure what their interlude had meant. He hoped Zell hadn't put too much importance on it, hadn't thought that it might mean something because it sure as fuck hadn't. They'd both been drunk for Hyne's sake, no way would... *could* it have meant something.

He sat up and went hunting for something to wear. There was a time when he would have made sure he chose something he could easily move around in and just add trenchcoat to it. These days it didn't really matter. He rarely had to do anything energetic and if he did it was only that last minute sprint every Friday when he almost missed the train to Timber to visit Raijin and Fujin. He'd had to miss it this weekend completely because of Selphie's stupid party.

As he stared into his cupboard, the gunblader pondered for a moment what Squall would say if he appeared at the other man's office in a pair of extra-small, black leather trousers. Seifer shuddered, he only liked leather if it was on his back or his feet- and he *especially* didn't like it when a certain introverted, world-saving dumbarse was wearing it. He felt a scowl coming on, stupid Squall. He just *had* to be the one to ponce around and save the world from Seifer's almighty wrath, didn't he? Well, OK so it was Ultimecia he saved the world from but still... It had to be Seifer's old nemesis that did it. Seifer had a theory that Squall hadn't really cared about the world and had destroyed Ultimecia only to prove to Seifer once and for all who was the greatest. Stupid Squall. At least he now had to suffer Rinoa. Silly bint.

'They suit each other perfectly,' Seifer thought with a grin. 'They're both bitches.'

Although Seifer was aware of the fair amount of hostility he possessed toward Rinoa after their failed relationship, he kept it in mind that the brunette knew about his forrays to 'the other side' and was well aware that he preferred men- especially when faced with a choice like her or a Laguna Loire lookalike. Sure Seifer wasn't that fond of Squall's father but it had to be said he had been good looking in his youth. It was because of Rinoa's knowledge of most of these facts that Seifer made sure he was at least remotely civil to her so she didn't go shouting her mouth off about it. Though she didn't deserve any civility. Silly bint.

As the gunblader pulled on his black jeans he realised his thought patterns had become remarkably repetitive. Every morning he cursed Squall's existance, decided having anything to do with Rinoa had been a mistake and wondered how he could get rid of the both of them. Then he added a few well placed expletives before and after Squall's name and invariably ended with called Rinoa a 'Silly bint' because anything else took him out of the confines of being civil to her. It was dangerous to swear at her even in his thoughts because he might refer to her as a self-centred, arrogant little bitch within her presence and all of his carefully kept secrets would come tumbling out of her horrid little mouth just to pay him back. Oh how he hated Rinoa.

He hated Mondays too, he thought to himself, heading for the kitchen. Namely because they meant he had to go and see Squall and convince the 'Commander' he was doing well and hadn't killed anyone... yet. Squall never should have been given the reins to Garden, Leonheart wasn't capable of coming face to face with himself let alone all the nasty things Garden had to offer. Stupid. Fucking. Squall. As each of these words went through his head Seifer managed to slam something, first the cup onto the bench, then the cupboard door and finally the coffee jug back to its place.

Seifer gulped down a tea-cup of coffee, considering that he really did need to get some coffee cups so he could stop having to make two or three cups of coffee every morning. Bigger mugs. That's what he'd put down on his Hynemas List. Not that anyone would be reading it. Who'd want to buy him Hynemas presents? Maybe he could bribe Zell into doing it. Seifer's paychecks, substantial though they were, seemed to be going on train tickets and weapon upgrades and good PS2 games- they kept him entertained while he was waiting on Squall to do something useful with him, like give him a good mission worthy of a Level 12 SeeD instead of a cadet. He was sick to death of being sent off on missions with 17 year olds. Damn teenagers. Though he was barely out his teens himself.

As he slammed his dorm door behind him and shoved away an underclassman who happened to be in his way Seifer came to the conclusion that he was angry this morning. And he had a right to be, he convinced himself. After waking up the day before with Chicken in the bed with him he could be in a bad mood, Grand Theft Auto 3 hadn't knocked that out of him, even if he had played it all day yesterday. He needed to beat something up, something real, and each step closer to Squall's office he came the more it looked like it was the Commander's lucky day- or unlucky as the case may be, but who wouldn't want to be touched by Seifer Almasy the Great's hands? Or fists?

Squall was busy scribbling something on a scrap of paper when Seifer came in. He didn't bother knocking, Squall knew he was the only one who visited him at... Seifer glanced at a clock... 7:45 on a Monday morning.

"Good morning, Seifer," the surly Commander replied.

Seifer scowled. Squall was hardly more than a boy really, Quistis should be the one running the place.

"I see you're in as good a mood today as you were yesterday," Squall muttered.

That was a long sentence, coming from Squall. Seifer realised all Rinoa's urgings had made him more talkative, and thus more of a snide, acidic little shit. But then a relationship with Rinoa could do that to a person. The blond didn't bother answering that statement either, he figured it was obvious he was angry.

"We need to talk about the punch," Squall said idly, still scribbling.

"It had nothing to do with me," Seifer snapped. First thing he'd said so far, he noticed cheerfully. Then realised this could be interpreted as a sign he was turning into Squall. He really had to get out more and stop having these irritating conversations with himself in his head. 'Bet Squall used to do this,' he thought. He looked up and found the other gunblader already looking at him.

"You know I used to do that," Squall commented, as though he had been reading Seifer's mind. "But I discovered it was easier to get people to do as I wanted if I actually spoke out loud."

"If I spoke out loud, you'd reply," Seifer rebutted. "And that's exactly what I don't want. Your voice makes me want to kill myself." He paused a moment, relishing how nice it felt to make Squall feel like a dumbarse. "Are we done with the review or would you like me to give you dot points as to what I've done this week?"

Squall sighed. Seifer had always been arrogant and difficult to deal with, it seemed he was trying to make sure no one could ever take his crown of egomania. This sort of arsehole behaviour would go down in history books, Squall was sure of it. He wondered idly if in the records of Ultimecia's defeat Seifer would be acknowledged as the Sorceress' Arrogant Knight.

While he was considering this Seifer was watching his mouth and the pout that shifted around a lot. The blond found himself thinking about lips, or one person's lips in particular. The slight pout on Squall's, the way the light reflected off their extra shiny surface (Rinoa had obviously attacked him with lip balm) had nothing on the image Seifer was creating in his head. Zell on his knees, lips around Seifer's cock, tongue carressing him like it was all the smaller boy ever wanted to taste. Seifer could feel himself getting hard.

"If you didn't spike the punch, and I'm not saying I believe you," Squall suddenly spoke up. "Who did?"

"Irvine? Selphie? Zell? Rinoa? Maybe she thought getting you drunk might make you hop into bed with her, I hear you've been having trouble in that department," Seifer finished smugly. In truth he hadn't heard any such thing, but one of the easiest ways to insult a man was via his sexual performance. To his surprise, however, Squall blushed.

"What the hell would you know?" Squall asked quietly. "You haven't had anyone since..."

He left it there which Seifer was thankful for, he didn't want to think about how Ultimecia had ruined his sex life. It wasn't a very good argument anyway, the blond considered, but good on the Commander for trying. He was feeling less angry now, a visit with Squall always made him feel better, the man was such an incompetant little fuck. And besides it was obvious from a certain someone he'd woken up with Sunday morning that he *had* had someone since...

Outside, in the nice little foyer before Squall's office, said someone was currently having a conversation with Rinoa as they waited for Squall to be done interviewing Seifer for what felt like the hundredth time that year. Zell had come visiting in the hope that he might be given a few days off to visit his Ma, do a lot of meditation and erase Seifer from his memory.

"What did you get up to yesterday?" Rinoa asked him for the third time. Admittedly he hadn't answered her yet but that was beside the point.

"Nothin' much," he said, again. Same response to the same question, you'd think she'd get the hint. However, Rinoa wasn't dumb she was just persistant.

"That's not an answer, Zell," she wagged her finger at him and grinned. "I usually see you running about all over Garden... Were you hung-over too?"

"Too?" he asked, picking at the lace on his sneaker. He returned the grin. "You drink too much at Quisty's party huh?"

"Squall says it was the punch," Rinoa sat back and began swinging her legs under the bench she was perched on. With each swing her foot threatened to come in contact with Zell's head now the martial artist was sitting on the floor. In the second of silence the lift bell dinged, arriving at the 3rd floor.

"The punch was spiked? Who'd do that?"

"Seifer," Rinoa replied knowingly, though she had as much of a clue as everybody else. "He was always doing things like that before, to irritate people."

"He's good at that," Zell muttered bitterly.

"Who's good at what?" Selphie chirruped as she arrived from the lift.

"Seifer, good at irritatin' people, 'cause he's an arsehole," Zell replied, getting up off the floor.

"What'd he do?" the overly cheery girl took a seat next to Rinoa on the bench, only trouble was with that short skirt the other girl had to help her up.

Zell started up his shadow-boxing as he replied. "Spiked the punch."

"Oh you didn't drink too much punch, did you? There was vodka in that, I let Irvy have control of it." To her credit Selphie noticed the look of shock on Zell's face before she got too carried away talking about Irvy. "Was that a bad move?"

"It was Irvine?" Zell asked quietly. "I'm gunna kill 'im."

"Over a hang-over?" Rinoa asked, though the tone of her voice implied she knew a bit more than she was letting on. Zell ignored this, with luck she was thinking about something totally unconnected with him.

As Selphie began to apologise for Irvine's party tricks an loud voice rose above hers.

"Hyne Seifer! It's not like I'm asking you to give up your first born!"

Inside Squall's office Seifer smirked smugly. He'd just managed to get Commander Surly to raise his voice. "What's that Squall? You're speaking too quietly."

Said Commander Surly drew a few deep breaths before replying. "Seifer, I need *someone* to go to Esthar..." Squall smiled slightly as a thought occurred to him. "Either you go with Zell and Quistis or I'll send you with Rinoa... and Selphie."

The gunblader visibly stiffened. "You wouldn't."

"I would," Squall replied, victorious. "Now go do something productive, you're leaving next week."

As he spoke his girlfriend pushed open the office door. "I'm not sure I appreciate you using me as a threat, Squally-kins."

Seifer grinned. Squally-kins? Followed on nicely from 'Seify' as she used to call him, he decided. The grin faded rapidly as Zell appeared in the doorway. He was pusposely avoiding looking at Seifer, staring straight ahead, waiting until Squally-kins noticed him. There was no way on Hyne's green earth that Seifer would avoid looking at him however. The crest had been done away with for today, his hair was ruffled and it made Seifer think maybe Zell hadn't been having enough sleep. He looked tired and that oversized, hooded sweatshirt made him look kind of cosy. Seifer found himself wanting to nuzzle into the smaller boy's neck, into that just-woken-up warmth. There was something scarily huggable about him.

Zell could feel Seifer staring at him and it was making him highly uncomfortable. Here he was doing his best to avoid the other boy and Seifer was just doing his damndest to make it difficult. Seifer's face was obscured from his view, namely because he was deliberately trying not to look at it, but because of this he couldn't tell if Seifer was glaring angrily or if he was gazing seductively. Zell took a deep breath and tried not to worry about it. He shifted from one foot to the other waiting for Squall to stop being cute with Rinoa and to pay attention to him. He didn't really want to think about Squall being cute and he really didn't want to think about having to go to Esthar with Seifer. That could be disasterous.

Eventually Rinoa left and Squall turned to him. Really it had been about a minute, maybe two but Zell felt like he had been standing there for hours, with Seifer's gaze constantly fixed on him.

"What's wrong Zell?" Squall asked, though it was clear he didn't really care.

"I was wonderin' if I could have a few days off," Zell started. "I wanted to go visit Ma and stuff."

Squall shrugged and turned back to his scrap of paper. "Sure." It was the end of term so there wasn't much for him to do anyway. "Until Friday? I need you to show the prospective students around. They like you."

Zell nodded, unsure whether 'they' referred to the parents or the students. There was a significant pause while he decided whether or not he should salute. He didn't usually but Seifer was sure to make something of his friendship with their Commander if he didn't now.

"I want you to go to Esthar too," Squall added as an afterthought.

"I know. I heard you telling Seifer," he added to explain he hadn't actually been eavesdropping.

"You alright with that?" Squall asked. It was clear he didn't care about this either, Zell figured he was going whether he wanted to or not, he had never been much good at getting his own way.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Quistis is comin' right?"

Squall nodded. "I'll see you Friday then?"

Zell nodded and turned to leave but Seifer's voice held him back.

"What are we doing in Esthar?" the taller blond demanded suddenly.

Squall didn't even look up. "The President wanted some GF's down there. Odine's doing something or other, something about memories. I don't know, I just told him I'd send some people and since it's peace time and there's nothing much going on I thought I could spare you. That alright with you, Seifer?"

The other gunblader had stopped listening to Squall after the first few words and had started watching Zell again. He desperately wanted to throw him down on the floor of Squall's office and fuck him senseless right there and then. He figured their reverend Commander would have a few things to say about that, or maybe he'd join in? Seifer smirked. "Whatever, Commander."

Squall still wasn't looking up which meant Zell was clear to watch Seifer leave. He caught Seifer's eye for a second before the lift doors closed on him, the smirk was definately lecherous. Seifer was flirting with him, he thought with shock. What the hell was he supposed to do to that? It wasn't like he was totally against the idea, well, his conscious mind certainly was but he could already feel himself getting excited at the prospect of re-living Saturday night. He hated Seifer, but then he was pretty cute...

"Was there something else, Zell?" Squall asked suddenly.

"Nah," Zell replied. "See ya Friday."

Author's Note

I couldn't help it. I had to have Hynemas. (Had to keep in PS2's though, what else would Seifer the Great play?) It's just such a good name. Like Davemas. That's October 23rd in case you're wondering and is named in honour of Dave a complete stranger who gave my household a fridge, for free. Go Dave. Davemas is Generosity Day.

Enough about Dave. There's not much actual shagging in this one (a lot of thinking/ imaging/ daydreaming about it) but next chapter we get into a nice steady stream of it, this is just covering all our bases so we know where we are. Seifer is bitter, Zell's getting narky- not enough sex poor dear. Nevermind, I'll fix that up for him. Here comes Seifer!

There's a little bit of Squall and Rinoa bashing but it comes from Seifer's heart so it's not without reason. If I were Seifer I'd want to bash them up too. I dislike Rinoa as much as the next person, probably more actually, but I thought I'd be nice to her for this fic. Hope it doesn't make too many people cringe.

Oh and this is looking like a long one. I may be at my computer for months. Feel free to offer advice or ideas, especially at this early stage.

Return to Archive | next | previous