Warnings: short fluffy SquallZell. Light yaoi. Don't like, don't read. Simple, ne?
Other than that any word joiningslikethis are all fanfictions fault. I'm not sure what it is or why, but its keeps doing that to my stories!
Disclaimer: Not mine. End of story.
A/N: Really nothing for me to say, just enjoy and please leave a review. They're what makes it all worth it in the end. Thanks!
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Final Fantasy VIII
Temperance
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Squall Leonhart was not very concerned with personal possessions or the things that were offered or given to him for his position and rank at Garden. He felt indifferent about the high amount of money given to him for being a SeeD; in fact, he rarely ever used it. So naturally, Squall was non-too impressed with things like money and gold.
But he had an obsession with the golden, rich skin of one Zell Dincht.
Squall Leonhart was not a touchy feely person, it didn't even need to be said. People had learned to keep a safe distance between themselves and the brunette. He didn't return hugs and he didn't coddle. But Zell didn't care about any of that, or he ignored it; he took the risk every chance his got, touching Squall whenever he felt damn inclined to do so only because it was his natural way of communicating. And Squall had started to wish that Zell would remove his gloves more often…
Because he had grown attached to the smooth and warm feel of Zell's body grazing his own.
Squall Leonhart had learned to ignore the countless names he had been dubbed, regardless of his accomplishments and all he had done. Sometimes, he even responded to them.
Leonhartless.
Leon-no-hart.
Ice Prince.
Ice burg Leonhart.
Or his favorite, Cold Bastard.
Bit it never fazed him too much not to be called by his real name.
He kind of like the way Zell called him 'Baby.'
Squall Leonhart was athletic, spite the thoughts of students around Garden. He was flexible and fast; he had to be to survive the things that happened during the Sorceress' War. But Squall was never quick to explode in a burst of energy, but merely decided to remain solemn.
Besides, Zell had enough energy to spare for the both of them; it was almost never ending.
And Squall Leonhart had come to terms with himself, accepting that he did act cold, even when he never intended to, even when he never meant to come across that way. He wasn't new to compassion, just never understood what to do with it. He simply took in what people said about him being a shell, a stone, hard.
But that was ok, too.
The softness of Zell's deliciously pink lips often made up for it.