A/N: I have an excessive love for commas. Sorry about that. Let's make people that hate each other in canon, not hate each other.

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts II, nor do I own Final Fantasy VIII.

"Let's… STRUGGLE!"

Instantly the volume of the crowd kicked up several notches and Seifer narrowed his eyes, focused completely on his opponent. He watched for tells and warnings; a shift in muddy eyes or a jerk of tanned, muscled skin. Fingers flexing on the handle of a struggle bat told of a coming hard swing, adjusting grip foretold a downward sweep, and Seifer was able to jump, easily avoiding the attack.

He grinned a bit as his opponent shoved unruly blond hair back, a few strands refusing to stay put and rebelliously curling in front of his eyes, damp with sweat. Normally, the wild, un-brushed hair made Seifer want to grab and shove the head it belonged to against a wall until stars were seen, but now, he counted any kind of distraction as welcome. Not that he needed a distraction to help him win, Seifer thought, side-stepping a sharp jab. Solely to see the furious look on his opponents face, Seifer began to clean his nails in an uninterested manner. It worked like a charm.

Hayner snarled in frustration. None of his attacks so far had landed, and being on the offensive for so long with Seifer as his adversary made him nervous. Seifer never played defense for long and at least half a minute had passed without a single advance from him. Hayner knew it must be coming soon, but Seifer was usually infuriatingly unpredictable in struggle matches. Hayner tried to keep his eyes peeled, tried to predict the line of Seifer's movements and still felt totally unprepared when a quick thrust came his way.

He tried to spin out of reach but was caught on his shoulder and lost his balance. Struggle orbs went flying and Seifer picked them up with leisure, as if taking a relaxing stroll, while Hayner lay sprawled on the ground.

It was the mocking sound of Seifer's laughter that propelled Hayner to stand instead of lying there in embarrassment, hoping the earth would swallow him up. The dark chuckle seemed to say, I don't even have to concentrate to beat you, Chicken Wuss. His ass was sore from landing on it, but Hayner crouched against the pain, watching for another lunge.

Seifer was on the other side of the stage, walking nonchalantly with his bat slung over his shoulder. Hayner was enraged by that smug smile, like he wasn't taking the match seriously. That stupid beanie Seifer always wore made him even angrier, for reasons he couldn't presently name, and he briefly entertained the thought of stapling it to Seifer's scalp.

Hayner smiled at the image, and Seifer didn't bother to analyze why the little grin irritated him so much. All he knew was that the win wasn't worth it if it ended with fair feelings. There was a need to crush his opponent that stormed inside Seifer, and he had the perfect idea to leave Hayner ruined.

Hayner swung repeatedly at Seifer but every swing was evaded or skillfully blocked. When Seifer imitated a yawn as if bored, Hayner wanted to bash him over the head with his bat, damned be the rules.

Hayner cursed under his breath, sweat pooling above his lip. It couldn't have been more than a minute since they had begun… With two minutes left, Hayner figured if he could land a few really good hits and evade the rest of Seifer's, he would be able to win.

As soon as the thought left his mind, Seifer was suddenly up close and personal, pressed tight against Hayner's back and bringing his crotch into contact with Hayner's ass. Hayner gasped and froze, confused by the maneuver, but sprung away angry when he felt the slight tug of a struggle orb being pulled from his Velcro attachments.

A blush was high on his cheeks from the contact and Seifer was tossing the orb he had stolen in the air before catching it deftly. Perplexed and angry at the casual, unsportsmanlike maneuver, Hayner lunged, bat swinging down in a smooth arc, but Seifer brought his bat up and they connected with a vibrating thwack! Seifer clicked his tongue at Hayner, disapproving, and leapt backwards.

"C'mon!" Seifer crooked his hand in invitation. "Quit fooling around and fight!"

Hayner couldn't think in his rage, incensed beyond belief that Seifer would use such an underhanded move in a professional match, and then dare to tell Hayner to fight for real.

Hayner swung and stabbed, but still Seifer was able to dodge the crouched uppercut and every other move in Hayner's arsenal. Hayner was mystified, increasingly so, as Seifer continued to get unnecessarily close to Hayner, breathing hotly in his ear and purposefully losing his own balance to land on top of a felled Hayner. Seifer was up and off in an instant, but not before a filthy grind against Hayner's dick that left him groaning and growing hard in his shorts.

Hayner scrambled to get up but, already off balance, he wasn't able to defend himself to the lighting fast spin and blur of Seifer's bat as it hit him square in the stomach. The breath was knocked out of him and he doubled over, Hayner's red struggle orbs falling to the ground from the force of the strike. A slash to his legs had him on the ground again and Hayner lay there, desperately trying to suck air into his lungs.

Shakily he stood, straining for a good, deep breath, when he felt a swish of air, heard the light snap of fabric in the wind. Suddenly there was a tongue on his ear, slick, hot, and wet; there were teeth, sharp and nipping at the heated skin; there was a voice whispering bedroom promises. An image of rumpled sheets and glistening skin, of wicked looks and fervent hips when straight to Hayner's groin. He saw wrecked clothing and swollen lips, clawed backs and branded necks that made his mouth dry up. A low groan slipped through Hayner's mouth and he didn't realize that he'd begun to reach for his erection until the whispering voice changed from erotic to pompous.

"Give it up, lamer," was the taunt. "I've already owned you."

Pulled harshly from the fantasy of sweat and bodies Hayner's mind had created, the roaring crowd was suddenly present, the match once more at the front of his attention. Fuming, Hayner quickly struck at Seifer's side and was utterly shocked that it landed. Several orbs went flying and he scrambled towards them to pick them up, but stopped short at the loud blare from a horn.

You've got to be fucking joking, Hayner thought as he looked at Seifer with wide eyes. The struggle match was over and he'd only landed one blow, which didn't count for shit because he didn't pick up the blue orbs before the horn sounded.

He walked away a few paces and agitatedly ran his hands through his sweaty hair. He breathed sharply through his nose as he slipped out of the Velcro attachments and slung them over his arm. This had to be the worst tournament Hayner had ever participated in, and here came the announcer to make him be nice to that cheating bastard. He wanted to strangle the fat man just for that.

Roughly, he shoved the Velcro into the announcer's waiting hand and stood with hunched shoulders, glaring at Seifer from beneath his pale lashes.

The announcer congratulated Seifer with a nasally voice on a fantastic match—which only deepened Hayner's scowl—before clearing his throat importantly.

"Shake hands, boys."

Grudgingly, Hayner stuck out his hand and Seifer took it, squeezing hard enough and long enough that Hayner had to look into Seifer's eyes before he would let go. Hayner's cock jumped at the focused gaze, remembering the eyes from the bedroom fantasy he'd had during the match, and he ripped his hand away, a dark blush creeping into his cheeks.

"Good game, son," the heavy Struggle announcer called out as Hayner walked off stage.

The announcer turned to face the crowd. "And after an absolute domination in the title match, your Struggle Champion is…" the announcer traded the Championship Belt for Seifer's Velcro suit and yelled in his low, booming voice, "SEIFER ALMASY!"

Hayner seethed, seated with his friends as he watched Seifer raise the Struggle Championship Belt high about his head. "I'm going to kill him," he said, calm voice oddly paired with the ominous words. "I'm going to rip out his entrails and use them as party decorations at his funeral."

"Hayner," Olette said gently, "that's a bit extreme…."

"I don't think he cares," Pence whispered nervously in her ear.

Tense with wrath, Hayner continued spitting out threats under his breath. He snarled at the brash sneer Seifer aimed his way.

The moment the crowd began to disperse, their excitement still riding in the air and fueling Hayner's fury, he marched up to Seifer, who looked at him with a disinterested face.

"That was cheating; it wasn't fair."

"Cheating?" Seifer scoffed, and began to walk towards his apartment. "That was strategy, lamer," he corrected, "and it was very fair."

"Strategy? Strategy?!"

Seifer winced at the near screech.

"That was not strategy. Strategy is a carefully devised plan of action to achieve a goal. What you did was impulsive and misleading, and used for personal gain in an attempt to acquire an unfair advantage which, by definition, is cheating."

Seifer stopped abruptly and looked at his irritated shadow.

"Let me ask you, Mr. Dictionary, did I get called out on it? Was I fouled? Penalized?"

Hayner's face flushed deeper red with anger because, no, there had been no whistle, no sign at all to prove that his… sexual harassment was against the rules.

Seifer grinned widely. "Don't be jealous, Chicken Wuss." Hayner wanted to punch his overly smug face.

"I am not jealous," he said through clenched teeth, but the lie was obvious even to him. Seifer had a natural talent for Struggle that Hayner was desperate to possess—a speed and ease in how he moved and a knack for predicting his opponent's attacks. The admiration he felt only fed his anger, and it was clear that Seifer knew it.

"And don't call me Chicken Wuss!" Hayner added, scrambling to keep pace with Seifer, as he'd resumed his walking towards the brown stone apartment building on the edge of town.

"Sure thing, Chicken Wuss."

"I've told you repeatedly not to call me that."

Seifer shrugged and walked up a short staircase to his apartment floor. "And I ignore you every time." Hayner could have cheerfully taken a stapler to his own head as he leaned against the building.

Seifer unlocked his door and walked inside, not bothering to close it behind him. There was no point; Hayner had a key and would follow him in regardless.

"We're not done talking about this," Hayner said, kicking the door shut as Seifer dropped his keys on the kitchen counter and kicked off his boots by the front door.

"I'm done," Seifer muttered, laying the Championship Belt over the arm of the couch and walked into the bedroom.

"You practically sexually assaulted me in front of a hundred people," Hayner called, waving his hands in exasperation even though Seifer wasn't looking.

"No one noticed anything other than you being thrashed." When Seifer returned to the kitchen, his feet were bare and his beanie was gone.

"I thought you wanted to keep it quiet."

"Keep what quiet?" Seifer scratched his fingers over his scalp in a rough movement, obviously exasperated by the conversation.

"This!" Hayner moved his hands forcefully between them. "Us! You and me."

"Maybe I'm tired of being quiet." Seifer turned purposefully towards Hayner, and Hayner noticed the erection tenting Seifer's pants. "Maybe I like distracting you, and teasing you in public."

Hayner rolled his eyes. "Forgive me if I don't believe you."

"I've wanted to fuck you all day."

Hayner narrowed his gaze at Seifer's intense face. "Bullshit."

"You remember what I said in your ear?" Hayner's blush rose again and he swallowed at the sudden recollection. Seifer stepped closer, crowding Hayner against the counter, but Hayner didn't shove him away. "That's all I've wanted all day. I don't give a fuck about that stupid Belt, or the match." Slowly, he unsnapped the button on Hayner's camouflage shorts and drew the zipper down. Hayner's breath caught in his throat and he felt like he'd been hit with the struggle bat once more. He gripped the edge of the counter behind him to steady himself as Seifer sank to his knees.

"I knew the quickest way to get you here and naked was to make you so pissed, you would bitch at me all the way home." Seifer shoved down Hayner's shorts and his cock sprang free, already getting hard between his legs. Hayner gasped at the cool air of the apartment, the image of Seifer before him. "And you know what?" Seifer breathed hotly against Hayner's trembling thighs, placed his hands on the bony hips. Hayner was completely unable to ask, but Seifer answered him anyway.

"It worked." Seifer swallowed Hayner's cock, letting it hit the back of his throat before pulling off. Hayner jerked forward, curving over Seifer and taking a hand from the counter to place on Seifer's shoulder.

The feeling of his wet tongue circling the head of Hayner's dick was mind-numbing, dizzying in intensity. Hayner let his head fall limp and moaned while Seifer sloppily sucked and licked at him. Hayner was never one for finesse; he liked it messy and noisy, and Seifer was exploiting that as dutifully as ever to get him completely hard. Carefully, Hayner thrust his hips forward shoving deep into Seifer's mouth. He watched Seifer to gauge a reaction and nearly came when Seifer opened his mouth impossibly wider and stared at Hayner, inviting him to fuck his mouth.

"Oh, fuck," Hayner choked out, hands holding the back of Seifer's head as he thrust into Seifer's hot mouth. His fury had melted into desire so quickly he didn't know how the transition fit into the space of a blink.

"Fuck, that's hot," he gasped, shoving deep and groaning at the way Seifer coughed and swallowed around his cock when he hit the back of his throat without warning. "S—shit," Hayner quickly changed the name that almost came out to a curse and Seifer's eyes flashed as he pulled off, leaving Hayner's cock wet and dripping.

"Where is it?" Seifer asked, standing.

"First drawer." Hayner jerked his head to the left as he toed off his shoes and, with a little more determination, his socks, before shucking his shorts and underwear. He kicked them to the side. "There."

It felt slightly weird to be standing in the kitchen, naked from the waist down, so he pulled his gray vest from his arms and drew away the tank top from his sticky torso, leaving them in a pool by his ankles. Seifer was still wearing everything besides the beanie, and the look on his face when he turned with items in hand to see Hayner—soft and bare and waiting—was worth the Struggle loss.

He'd never seen Seifer's pretentious white sleeveless coat hit the linoleum floor so fast, and he stepped forward so swiftly it was as if he'd taken three lengths in the space of one step. They were nose to nose and Seifer had Hayner bracketed against the counter, the bottle of lube that was in his hand clanking against the surface in Seifer's haste to have his hands free. Their eyes were locked, unblinking, mouths so close they were breathing the same air. Hayner's lips touched Seifer's when he exhaled and chapped corners caught on each other. Seifer would never admit it, and Hayner would never tell, but they both were very aware of the way Seifer's hands shook as he brought them up to touch Hayner's chest to finger over the loud pulse in his neck, to gently run his nails over the curve of Hayner's shoulder.

Seifer backed off a bit, sliding his hands down Hayner's wiry arms to grip his hands and bring them to his own exposed stomach. Hayner would never be able to say how it was that Seifer could pull off the absurdity of a crop top but he wasn't complaining, not when Seifer was guiding Hayner's hands under the edge and hooking his thumbs on it, dragging it up until Hayner was doing it on his own.

They didn't speak and the silence in the apartment was deafening. It lay upon them like a thick coating of honey that made their movement sluggish. What once had been lust and anger was now something else, something they didn't name often. They didn't hear the shirt hit the floor.

Seifer stepped back further, out of Hayner's reach, and undid the drawstrings on his loose-fitting trousers. How Seifer was able to pull off that horrendous shade of eggplant, Hayner would never know, but it was mesmerizing to watch them fall to the floor of the kitchen. Even more arousing: The fact that Seifer had forgone underwear that day and was now standing naked in front of him.

Hayner had lost count of the times he'd seen Seifer naked—too many to think about here, once in his bathroom when no one else was home, a couple times against the bricks in the Alley, their bodies illuminated by lamplight and Seifer's hand covering Hayner's mouth to keep him quiet, so close to his hideout it was dangerous—but the sight never failed to make his knees want to buckle. He'd never wanted anyone so badly.

Would it be bad to reach for him now? Hayner's finger's twitched and his wrist lifted but Seifer was on him in a flash, pinning the wrist against the edge of the counter and grabbing for the lube. They were nose to nose again and Hayner could smell a faint trace of sweat that lingered from their match.

"Spread your legs," Seifer ordered in a whisper. Hayner obeyed and tipped his head up, hoping to catch against Seifer's mouth, craving the taste of his lips and was denied. Seifer leaned back and licked his lips. He released Hayner's wrist long enough to pour some lube onto his right hand before pressing his wrist right back against the counter.

The pressure was hard enough that an indention would be left, circulation would be cut off enough to make the skin itch but he didn't mind. He didn't mind because it only added to the pleasure. He felt Seifer's slick finger circled around the rim of Hayner's ass and pressed inside, large, calloused, and steady. They cooked here, they ate here, bickered, fought, and fucked here and the culmination of those thoughts made Hayner tip his head back and close his eyes.

"No," Seifer bit out, and Hayner opened his eyes again. Seifer's gaze was intense, almost to levels of embarrassment. But it was hard to say anything when Seifer inserted a second finger alongside the first and they curled up to sweep over Hayner's prostate.

"Look at me," Seifer said. "Don't close your eyes, don't look away." Seifer's thumb rubbed across the skin of Hayner's pinned wrist, an oddly affectionate gesture, and Hayner nodded.

He wouldn't look away, didn't actually know if he could now.

Seifer inched closer, eyes locked onto Hayner's as his fingers curled, stroked, scissored and stretched Hayner's body. Instinctively, Hayner brought up a leg and wrapped it around Seifer's waist. They were cheek to cheek and Seifer spoke quietly, evenly, into Hayner's ear.

"I'm tired of being quiet. I want everyone to know that we're together, that you belong to me." Seifer punctuated his words with a third finger and Hayner groaned at the welcome intrusion. He rolled his hips a little against Seifer's hands and let his voice wash over him.

"I want people to stare, and whisper and wonder when we walk through the square. I want them to catch us kissing. I want your mom to know that every time you've told her you were spending the night with one of your lamer friends that you were really with me, and I was inside you, and you were screaming my name."

The comment about Hayner's mom spoken at a time when Seifer had his fingers up Hayner's ass probably should have been an instant turn-off, but it wasn't. It was thrilling and made Hayner hot all over, shivering and moaning against Seifer.

Seifer thrust his fingers into Hayner's body as he spoke against his ear, dick straining between his legs, and he marveled at the tightness that was Hayner's body. The guy was already smaller than himself in stature, and by now Seifer should have been used to the sensation, but it was brand new each time. He withdrew his fingers and nipped lightly at the cut of Hayner's jaw as Hayner's leg slid from Seifer's hip, weightless.

Normally, there was an undercurrent of meanness—sharper teeth, less careful fingers, bruises the next day—and neither of them complained. It was an unspoken thing that they would hate each other during the day, put on the appropriate faces for their respective friends and those in town, but during the night, behind closed doors, they were something else. Hayner had gotten used to the norm, the being shoved into walls and insulted, then fucked in secret against whatever available surface until they couldn't breathe, much less strike out at each other. The way Seifer was drawing it out, taking his goddamn time today was such a rarity that it was throwing Hayner off.

He wasn't used to the words, the confessional tone, the fingers that brought him up and to the edge and left him a needy mess. He might throw a punch soon, if Seifer didn't get inside him.

"Couch," Hayner gasped out because it was closer than the bedroom, vision fuzzy at the edges from pleasure.

Seifer grabbed for the lube on the counter and for Hayner's arm, half assisting half dragging him to their destination, only making a quick stop to grab a condom from the drawer where the lube had been.

They stumbled around the half wall that separated the kitchen and living room and Hayner crawled onto the leather couch on his knees. He shoved the Championship Belt off the arm of the couch before resting his forearms against it, enjoying the loud clatter it made. How unimportant it seemed to Hayner, now….

Hayner kept one foot on the floor, and listened to the sound of Seifer opening the silver packet. His heart was galloping inside his chest when Seifer placed a hand at the small of his back and he felt the couch shift with Seifer's weight. Now, please now, he thought, head hanging between his arms. His mouth was dry with want.

When Hayner felt Seifer's cock against his ass his groaned, wondering if Seifer was as hungry for this as he was. When had it come to this between them? Had he ever been this needy before? This ready to swallow someone else whole just to have them inside? Hayner trembled. He wants people to know. His family. Mine. He wants his friends and my friends to know.

As Seifer pushed steadily inside and Hayner's mouth dropped open at the sensation of being so full of another person, he knew there wasn't even a question of whether he wanted his family or his friends to know. It didn't matter; all that mattered was that he and Seifer were together and that he would always be able to feel this—the hot slide of bodies, the heavy press of Seifer's fingers on his back and hip. The jagged sound of Seifer breathing behind him, just as affected as Hayner was.

Hayner shoved back against Seifer, yanking sounds from the both of them and Seifer immediately picked up his pace.

Yes, this is what he wanted, Hayner grinned as they moved together. Seifer's hand crawled up to grip Hayner's shoulder and pull him back as he pistoned forward. Hayner tossed his head back and propped himself up on one hand, reaching the other back to cover Seifer's.

Seifer looked down at himself sliding in and out of Hayner and in a flash everything that had transpired since they walked through the front door passed through his mind. Against the counter, his mouth on Hayner, lips catching and it was hard to breathe when looking at him. His fingers dug into Hayner's shoulder. Seifer leaned forward to lick a wet stripe up Hayner's back simply to hear a shuddered curse escape Hayner's lips.

The sound of it was so heavy. He needed a moment, just a fucking moment or this was going to be over sooner than he wanted.

He pulled out and slipped his hand free from Hayner's. Hayner moaned his dissent, unhappy with the loss but Seifer pushed lightly at Hayner's hip to get him to turn around.

"Look at me," Seifer repeated his demand from earlier. "Look at me and don't ever forget this."

Hayner was sure his heart stopped beating for a split second, tripped by the words, struck dumb by the meaning. It took him a moment to get moving again.

He scooted backwards on the couch so Seifer could get to him a little easier and he lifted his hips. Seifer brought his right leg up and placed the calf on his shoulder. In this position he relied on Seifer to keep him hovering over the couch.

When he slid back inside, Seifer exhaled noisily. He rolled his hips and Hayner struggled to keep his eyes open. At this new angle Seifer could reach deeper inside him. Each push was felt to his core.

And it felt good, God it felt good, but it wasn't quite right. "Harder," Hayner ordered. "Fuck me like you mean it."

Seifer dug his fingers into Hayner's thigh and snapped his hips forward. He must have hit Hayner's prostate because Hayner suddenly threw his head back and gave a loud cry.

"Yes!" he sobbed out, trying to move his body to meet Seifer thrust for thrust even though his movement was limited with his position.

"Christ," Seifer bit out, feeling his damp hands slip on Hayner's body. He readjusted Hayner's calf on his shoulder, grabbed his other leg and pulled it to his waist and waited for Hayner to wrap it around him.

"Close," Hayner bit out as he snaked a hand between them to jack himself, his eyes on Seifer's.

"Yeah?"

"I need—" Hayner cut himself off with a wet gasp, eyes falling closed with the pleasure.

"What?" Seifer asked, breathless, not expecting an answer. He was close too, and right at the edge he didn't care if he sounded cool or big and tough. "What do you need?" Desperation to make Hayner feel good and to chase that feeling himself left him unguarded and simple. He would have done anything for Hayner in that moment.

Hayner's eyes opened, dark, so dark, and deep and Seifer was falling into them. "You," Hayner said as his hands reached for Seifer's face.

"I need you."

Seifer rushed to get to Hayner's mouth, Hayner's calf falling off his shoulder to be caught at the knee by his elbow.

It was a sloppy kiss at a bad angle, a harsh press until Hayner groaned at being folded uncomfortably. Seifer backed off a bit so their lips were barely touching as Seifer thrust faster and harder into Hayner's body, but their tongues slid wetly against each other, teasing, always teasing. Seifer felt Hayner's body tighten as he came and Hayner's head tipped back against the arm of the couch, baring his slender and tan neck as he moaned high and long. Seifer continued to thrust, overcome with the visage Hayner presented, overcome with the feel of Hayner's body closed tightly around his own. His lips shadowed over Hayner's neck—lovely, fucking gorgeous—and his teeth set into Hayner's shoulder.

Wildly, Seifer drove into Hayner tasting sweat and salt, half mad with impending release. Hayner's fingers were in Seifer's hair, feather-light and grazing down to stroke the straining cords of his neck and Seifer couldn't think, couldn't breathe—couldn't do anything but bury himself inside Hayner and still his body as his breath shook and his heart rattled inside his chest.

As he came down, suddenly able to feel the air conditioning flow over his back and cooling his sweat, he disentangled himself from Hayner's limp body. He ignored Hayner's unhappy whine as Seifer got up to dispose of the condom and get something to clean off Hayner's glistening chest.

When he got back to the couch, walking carefully with his sex-weak knees, Hayner looked like he hadn't moved and Seifer snorted at the image. He wiped off the mess on Hayner's body with just a few swipes and tossed it uncaring on the linoleum floor before flopping back on top of Hayner.

He grinned at Hayner's grunt and enjoyed the slow return of Hayner's heart to a normal pace under his ear. Hayner's fingers came back to play in Seifer's hair. They were silent and getting cold, but too comfortable with the presence of the other to do anything about it.

It was several minutes before one of them broke the quiet.

"You get to tell her."

Seifer made a quizzical sound against Hayner's damp chest at Hayner's statement.

"My mom. You get to tell her we're together."

Seifer picked up his head and said. "You get to tell my dad."

Hayner squirmed a little at the thought and Seifer grinned immediately at the display of discomfort, but Hayner knew there was no way he was chickening out of this.

"Fine," he said sharply, the challenge in his voice half for Seifer and half for himself.

Seifer pulled himself up closer to Hayner's face and bit his chin until Hayner yelped before letting go. His gaze was locked on Hayner's, burning with intention.

"Fine."

Hayner couldn't look away. "Fine," he said, much softer now, even though it didn't need repeating. The way he said it, it didn't sound like just fine. It sounded like I love you.

Seifer looked at him a little longer, watching those brown eyes blink and blink and blink. He leaned up and kissed Hayner, softer than he had all afternoon and it didn't feel like just a kiss. It felt like I love you, too.

A/N: I posted this a long time ago, actually. A faithful reader told me that it felt forced compared to other works of mine (which are so old I'm appalled people still read them) and I agreed with her, so I took the story down to try and fix what was wrong with it. I hope I did it justice this time, even though it's taken me about three or four years to feel good about it again...

This is un-beta'd by anything but my own obsessive eyes so if you see a mistake, just shoot me a message and I'll get it fixed!