Sugar High
Part 1
Disclaimer: The wonderful boys from Final Fantasy 8 are not mine. They belong to Square Unix. I just like to play with them. Please don't sue me, I have no money. At all.
Author's Notes: um.. well, it was a birthday ficcie.. and the idea of Squall being on a sugar high, just kinda got me wondering, what would happen. And much thanks to Gnome for pushing, and reading, and for Lex, who also read.
~Squall~
I woke with a headache and a sore body. It hurt. Lots. I didn't have much to drink last night...I had maybe three of those cooler things.
I roll my head from one side to the other...my eyes closed from the invading light that's trying to come through the window. I move my tongue in my mouth and it feels cottony and my teeth feel coated. How gross.
I lay there. Listening to silence and soft snores. My eyes snap open and I look at my bed partner. My mind is screaming at me, 'Don't tell me you did something stupid...like fuck The Heartilly!' I try telling my mind to shut up, but it yells at me to pull the blanket back, which I do.
I see the back of a blonde head. I blink at it, expecting it to disappear in some weird dream sequence. Nope, its still there. I pull my arm from under my pillow and poke him, and I've decided it's a him, in the back of the head.
I get a mumble for my efforts and I blink again. I try sitting up to look at whom, exactly is in my bed. But, the room spins and I quickly lay back down, hoping it will stop. I close my eyes and let things settle a bit. I can hear the snoring and I turn my head again. His face is turned towards me a bit more and I can see the black marks of a tattoo.
Zell.
Zell is sleeping in my bed. Okay, I can deal with it. I yank back the covers to get up and I notice bite marks on my body. I quickly pull the covers over me again. I blink, trying to remember where those came from. They weren't there when I went to bed last night...were they? No. ...Wait... okay, I can't remember...
I pull back the sheets again and slowly get up. The room spins less and my head isn't pounding as much. My feet brush along the floor, sweeping something out of the way. Small tubes of paper. I ignore it and make my way to the bathroom and the full-length mirror there.
I silently shut the door behind me, for some reason, not wanting to wake the tattooed martial artist in my bed. I blink at myself in the full-length mirror. Bite marks of different sizes and various depths are scattered over my body. My wrist, my bicep I find two, on my left. I find a couple on my shoulder and one on my neck. I find one on my waist, and on my inner thigh. I blink. My inner thigh? I swing my leg to the side a bit and touch the mark. It's sticky. I make a face and sigh. I have a good idea why it's sticky.
I turn and go to start the shower. I stop before I even reach the taps. I've got a bite mark; with fangs...I know that's from Zell...on my left ass cheek. It's not right on there, but it's in between the hip and the middle of my spine. Or, where the ass starts curving. I shake my head and turn the taps on.
I step into the blessedly hot shower and scrub gently at my body. I shampoo my hair and I can feel myself start to wake up. The hot spray against my body makes me very aware of the tender spots on my body.
I turn the shower off and finish my bathroom routine. I walk to the kitchen, my towel still wrapped around me.
I find more little tubes in the kitchen, accompanied by plastic wrappers. I blink and pick one up, reading the label. "Pixie Stix."
I look closer at my table; a fine powder covers it, with various smudges through out. I step back and look again. A handprint. A face print... the outline of a body...sort of.
I suddenly decide that I need coffee and turn to the kitchen. Empty soda bottles litter the counter, along with more of those offending paper tubes. I blink in disgust at the colourful tubes. I shove them off the counter with a quick swipe of my hand and open my fridge. I tilt my head and look at its contents.
There are four two litres on one shelf. And the door is filled. Booze tucked in between my salad dressing bottles and my water containers. What the fuck. What idiot did that? I roll my eyes and sigh, closing the fridge. I turn to the coffee container and make a small pot.
The smell apparently wakes my bedmate, as he walks groggily through the doorway. He tosses a lopsided grin at me.
"You bit me on the ass." I say.
I watch his body try not to laugh. His shoulders bouncing slightly. I roll my eyes again.
"Go ahead and laugh, but what I want to know is why you bit me there..."
The shorter man doubles over, laughing.
The coffee finishes brewing and I grab a cup. I can wait out his laughing. I sip my strong black coffee.
Half way through my cup his laughter slows, and he can look at me without bursting into another fit of laughter. He walks around the counter, relaxed in his naked state, and gets a cup of coffee.
"You asked me to bite you there."
I stop my cup midway to my mouth. I look at the blond man in front of me. His bright blue eyes start crinkling with glee.
"What? I did not." I'm in shock. I wouldn't ask someone to bite my ass would I? I mean, I tell people to kiss my ass, as a tell off...but to bite it?
He takes a sip of his coffee and sniggers at me. "You did. Last night...between the hours of...4 and 5, you rolled over, looked at me with a lazy smile and said, and I quote this, 'You should bite me Zell.' to which I responded with, 'What? Like you don't have enough bites already!' and you said to this, 'I know. But you didn't bite me yet.' in which I responded by biting you."
I stand there, blinking. I put my mug down, trying to remember what happened last night. I can't think, and everything is in a haze. I remember things feeling very fast, and lots of laughing.
Zell tilts his head at me, and then takes a sip of his coffee. "You don't remember?"
I shake my head. His beautiful mouth falls into an 'o' expression, with a touch of shock on the rest of his pale face.
"Okay, I'll tell you what happened with me.... everyone else, however, might have a different story..."
My eyes widen with that statement and something like panic rushes through me, but I find the chair all right and sit, ready to listen to Zell's story.