A/N: Listen up readers… I want to apologize ahead of time for any grammar issues. I mean, I go over it countless times but I always seem to misspell a word or use wrong formatting or SOMETHING, but I DO try so TRY to cut me some slack.

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII and all related titles and characters belong to their rightful owners. But you should know this. I mean… If I owned them, do you really think I would be explaining this?

Warnings: First off, expect slow updates. I'm working on a few stories at once, which I know isn't really the greatest idea ever, but I really wanted to start this one up.

Secondly, the theme in this fic is not suited for little kiddies, I put our favorite hyperactive blonde in some messed up shit, and yup… YAOI! So if you're already feeling the chunks comin' up, I suggest you leave, cuz TRUST me, you ain't gonna like it.

Ah let's see… any word joiningslikethis are all fanfictions fault, I'm sure of it. It does it to me all the time.

Aside's from all of that, enjoy the fic, and please do be so kind as to leave a review. They are what keep me writing. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Enjoy, luvs!

Pairing: SQxZ

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Underneath This Pressure

Written by your beloved Crimson Vixen

Chapter One – Coming To Terms! A Heavy Heart

Zell's POV

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It hurt. A lot.

Well, heh, I can't remember a time when it didn't.

The pain made me wince and grit my teeth to hold back the scream of agony that wanted more than anything to surface, but my body did not resist. I wasn't that stupid. Resistance would only tire me out and make the pain last longer. Screaming would encourage and make the burning heat even hotter.

My whole body was aching and felt uncomfortably hot, steaming, and my throat was raw... not from any screaming, but from pleading. He had called me weak because I was not ashamed to shed tears, and they only flowed harder.

I whimpered; something that I was ashamed to do. Probably because doing so showed that I was still childish enough to do it. I was aware that I was mewling now, and no matter how hard I tried to cut them off, he always managed to heighten them. It was like he knew all the ways to make a man break. Like he had mastered it.

As I felt another bump forming on my body from the lack of him caring about how hard and how soft he did things, I realized that I could never seem to remember how I had let it all happen… How I had let it go so far downhill…

I never thought much of it at first, just dealt with it every time something happened. I mean, Seifer picked on me all the time. As kids it was taunting and name calling, your basic verbal and emotional abuse, and by the time we grew up and found ourselves in the same Garden, he had resorted to physical abuse as well. I remember brushing it off at first as though it was nothing but an attempt on his part to boil my water, but I eventually ended up trying to hide from him. Literally. Skipping class, telling peers that if Seifer asked, they hadn't seen me, and even running out of sight and ducking behind corners before he knew I was there.

Then, it got to the point were I got a little concerned for my well being when his hand firmly cupped the crotch of my pants, leaving me with my mouth agape in a sore shock, only for him to grin and tell me that they were big for being a such chicken-wuss. He had licked his lips, and I had gone straight to my dorm to take a hot shower. A sour chunk of disgust kept trying to crawl its way up my windpipe, so I had left the toilet seat open and a towel set on the floor next to it… just in case.

I guess… I just hoped it would all go away someday, but when no one was looking, he kept on messing with my head with little gestures and stares, causing me to become utterly lost and confused. When no one was around, it was things like letting his hand linger on my shoulder for a little bit too long or holding dangerous objects and using them to point at me when he spoke.

Then…

Then, one day, the Bastard had followed me to the Training Centre, and I still hate myself to this very day for not noticing it until it was too late. He took a cheap shot and cast blind on me when I had my back turned. Then, while trying to find my balance, as well as what direction I was facing, he cast slow, and my limbs immediately became sluggish and heavy. My vision had gotten blurry, but my mind was clear as day, and I panicked, little red flags shooting up and warning bells going off in my head.

That's when he started drawing all of my magic from me. It didn't take him very long to take everything I had, 'coz I never brought much in the first place, as I like to use my hands and feet more than anything. Still, it felt a little strange not to have any thunder, my favorite element, with me. I had my GF with me, but I had a feeling that I would end up facing the wrong direction, or even stumble over, possibly faint, while trying to summon the Thunder Bird I was so close to.

I was about to curse every word I knew at the jerk for pulling such a dirty trick just to steal all of my magic, but something deep in my gut told me that this was about something completely different. And I was right.

As a first instinct, I tried to reach in my pocket for something, anything that would help me rid myself of my Blind and Slow status, but I couldn't feel the right bottle,for my fingers were so frantic in their search. And there was still the matter ofbeing able to aim it at myself. Of course, it didn't matter in the next few seconds.

Soon, his hands were all over me, gloveless, roughly gliding along my arms and pulling my neatly tucked top out from my pants, sliding his hands under my shirt. His hands were freezing, and those icy blocks had me paralyzed as he secured my hands behind my back with unbelievable strength, preventing me from searching for any more curative items. Every struggle on my part ended in a stricter hold, as every attempt to fire back was missed and weak and slow, and was met with even stronger caresses.

Even though making any sound with my voice made me want to spew, what with the way the world was spinning and jumping all over the place, I tried to anyway, but soon I discovered that I did not have a voice. I don't know if it was because I was too shocked to make it sound, or if Seifer's iron grip kept me from making me a stupid choice. Like a part of my brain was unconsciously making the smarter decision for me.

It was then I knew the shit I was in. Not only then, but for times to come. Seifer found pleasure in causing me pain and sorrow and it was safe to conclude – and needless to say at this point – that he was attracted to people of the same sex. Course, Seifer always was a bit of a sadist. And apparently, I had satisfied him greatly; I remember his slick tongue tracing my ear and his hands somehow managing to remove my shirt completely. I was scared shitless, to say the least, when my belt had been undone and his fingers floated above the zipper of my pants. But by some miracle, he forced my shirt back on, scooping up dirt and smudging it onto my dazed face. His grip was all that kept me standing, as the dizziness was started to make me legs uncontrollably wobble, but I could hear and feel him tearing at my clothes, and eventually shove me to the waiting ground.

It was such a violated feeling that was just dancing across my skin, and it was far more worse than the dirt that had gotten into my nose and mouth. I had gotten onto all fours and only then did I feel his presence. I swear to all that his holy, I never felt a heavier weight being lifted, or have such an overflowing ecstatic feeling in my chest.

I lifted my head and had to squint, but Squalls stance was easy to place, and his style was recognizable enough for me to make out the fur on the top of his coat, and the red crossing belts over his black pants. I could't make out any facial expressions, but I could only imagine him trying to cover his worry with a listless mask.

He did it often. The first time I had seen it was when he had saved my life from that guard in the D-District Prison. He had acted annoyed at my dramatic thank you's, tried to pry me off with the dull side of his weapon, and even rolled his eyes when Selphie asked how much I meant to him. But he was smirking when she said that, and had whispered my name when I was at his feet. Course… I don't think even Squall knew it at the time.

Anyway, I could hear his footsteps coming up to me, slow at first, but they sped up with every other step,each step becoming a clearer vision of my condition. My ears picked up on Seifer's breathing, with was frayed but forced and faked, and his footfalls were not far behind Squall's. That's when I collapsed fully onto the dirt, and my hearing as well as sight started to diminish.

Just great. Now it looked like Seifer was my rescuer.

"What the hell happened?" Squall had demanded. I was nervous; Squall's voice doesn't catch in his throat like that, nor does he fail in forcing his leader's tone not to waver. He knelt down next to me and slid his arms under mine, using all of his strength to lift my small but heavy frame. I twitched and flinched when Seifer's hands joined in.

I opened my mouth to answer Squall. Snitch on that asshole and watch Squall give him the beating he deserved. 'Coz although Squall was good at putting up a show, he had grown to value each friendship he had, and refused to let any of them go… Or be harmed in any way.

But Seifer had beaten me to it, and had already answered for me.

"He told me he doesn't remember."

I let my body slump as the two dragged my sorry ass out of the Training Centre. I felt so weak. Blind and Slow don't always make a person as pathetic as I was at that time, though it does make them weary… I was more paralyzed by what had happened, and frustrated at how my limbs wouldn't move as quickly as I would want them to. Absolutely pissed that I – Friggen Zell Dincht! – wasn't able to defend myself.

"Zell?" He sounded so calm, so much calmer than before, just like a leader should sound.

I shuddered. Seifer had answered for me for a reason, after all. He doesn't waste his breath otherwise. But I could find out what that was all about later, I was too tired to worry about it, so I made it easy on myself, even though lying to Squall is always so hard for me to do. It's hard for me to lie to anybody.

"…dun 'member…"

I had kind've blocked them out after that, getting too tied up in my own thoughts to even notice that they were still dragging me,or ask where it was we were headed. The last thing I remember was Squall asking – more like demanding – if Seifer had used any magic on me. He had said yes, only failed to mention that it wasn't healing magic he had used.

But… It didn't end there, like I had somehow thought it would. Now that I think about, I don't know how I figured something like that would be a one time thing…

It had gotten to the point where when no one was around to prevent it, Seifer would repeat his actions, and every time, I refused to scream for help. And just like before, I didn't know if it was me, trepidation, or my pride as a SeeD. Whatever it was, however, it kept going, and history seemed to repeat itself. People started seeing me leave Seifer's dorm, and girls would giggle at the small bruises that could not be covered by my clothes. People were starting to think that… Think that me n'him were an item.

If only they knew…

I… heh, I'm not even man enough to tell anyone the truth.

Sorry but… being used as some sex toy for someone else to fulfill his own sexual and dominating desires didn't exactly make me feel like I was part of any couple. It doesn't really make a person feel loved.

That was… I don't even remember how long ago all of that was, but it's fresh in my mind like it ALL happened just yesterday. And like an idiot, I had… let it all happen. I don't know how it had gotten to the point where I was utterly pathetic in every sense of the word. But I had a good reason for not spilling; a reason I would die for.

But that reason was clueless to any of this. As far as I knew, anyway. I only wish that Squall knew how much he meant to me. We had gotten close over the years; best friends, even in Squall's eyes. I know… he had said so himself, and it's not every day you hear the lone wolf Squall say something like that.

But much like him, I had also put on a mask. Well, okay, sure I acted like the real me, but there were certain things I made a point to keep under wraps. I had slipped once or twice, calling him baby and overdoing the contact I used when talking to him… so I covered it up by calling other people the same name, and touching other people when I spoke to them, even if I didn't want to… but I guess there was no point to it, as he never gave it much thought, because he never said a thing.

It's no mystery to anybody; I've never been good at controlling my emotions. They always seemed to overload and cause trouble. Or was trouble just attracted to me? Anyway, it gave people the wrong impression of me. I talk a lot, I'll give you that but just 'coz someone yaps all the time doesn't mean they'll be an open book. (Anyone ever tell you not to judge a book by its cover?) Sure, I'll growl when I'm angry and I'll pout when I'm begging, and it's no act, but… does that really tell you about a person? I mean really tell you about someone, and not just their quirks? Does it tell who I am? What I fear? What I dream?

Squall was one of the first people to actually see me for me, and accept me for it, though he was the last to show it. He seemed cold to me at first, but he was like that to everybody back then. He's a lot more open now, though he still needs a little shove every once and a while. We're closer than ever now, but it never feels close enough. He often resorts to small touches when he has a conversation with me, like a light tap on the shoulder or a quick, playful run of his hand through my hair, and he only does that with me. And he smiles more. He has a great smile.

He often trains with me; usually it's only per my request, but I do it 'coz I love to be around him, but he still doesn't know that I love him and will gladly stand by his side through the best and worst of things. And he doesn't know how I crave for his touch more and more everyday, and how he makes me toss and turn at night, waking up in cold sweats and often needing to change my clothes in the middle of the night…

Ahem…

He doesn't know because If I tell him… If I tell him, the only thing I'd be doing is hurting him. I… don't want to hurt him. I can't tell him because of Seifer… Seifer…

Seifer told me… Told me that if I ever said a single word to anyone, especially Squall, he would make sure I suffered for it. He had told me over and over again… NOT to get close to him.

And I worry 'coz the off switch on my mouth has too much oil and it can never stop in time.

I can't even imagine what he would do to me that would serve as a punishment worse that what he was already doing. But I kept my mouth shut because what if… That suffering was Squall's? What if he did something to Squall for a blunder that I pulled…? I would never forgive myself.

So I kept it a secret, just like Seifer told me to, only because I wanted to protect Squall.

I shook my head violently, though I wish I hadn't done so because it brought me back into the present, where my predicament was… not something I was taking a liking to… though by now it was normal.

"You chickenshit," Seifer's voice always frightens me; it's so hard and menacing, and cold just like his hands. It suited him well. It's difficult not to look at him though, for some reason I'll never be able to figure out. His eyes are just so… Well, have you even seen something that brought terror to your heart, but you can't tear your eyes away from it because it's so terrifying? It was kind of like that. I wanted to spit in his face.

'Coz… I've been a rebel lately; I've been talking back more and more and have simply been misbehaving during our 'sessions'.

And if I do that enough, like to the point where he gets too miffed by it all, he gives me the lecture. The one that always makes me regret my haphazard bursts of courage, though I never seem to learn from them.

"How many times do I have to knock sense into that thick head of yours?"

Seifer knew about my feelings for Squall. He knew because I can't control what I feel, that my stupid heart beats for Squall so desperately. He knew because on the seldom occasion he would strike a spot that made me unwillingly moan in pleasure, it came out as Squall's name. Just like my little slip at the TV Station, the sounds that came out of my mouth were realized only after it was too late, and Seifer would get furious when it happened.

Lately, I've been resisting the urges to moan as much as I can. He already thinks I imagine it is Squall that is trying to seduce me, not him. But that's not true, because Squall would never do the things that Seifer has been doing. Never. I know he wouldn't, and it's impossible for me to even imagine it.

"A guy like that could never love a shit like you. I don't even know how he puts up with you. You should be thankful for this."

The 'this' he was referring to was himself, and the attention he was giving to me, or at least that was what he had said when I asked him for the first time. It was a taunt, and it was hitting me hard, even though I knew that almost everything he said was a lie. But even when your head tells you one thing, the words still sting, and they stay, and they can screw with logic if you let them be long enough.

And with my heart forever dominating my head, it was easy for such words to make me believe what I know is a lie. Doubt is such an ugly thing. It can destroy even the lightest bit of hope.

I was slumped, slumped and defeated, just like so many nights before… for the hundredth time in who knew how long. Stripped of any and all faith and security and clothing… and laid bare on his bed, I was left vulnerable and sensitive to even the simplest thing. …Again. Both of which, were feelings I didn't like at all.

Most nights, he'll put me in a new position or experiment something new he had just thought of the night before, just to see if he liked it or not. By the end of the night, I'm always so tired. The bags that were forming under my eyes kept getting bigger and darker, my grades have been falling like an anchor, and it's getting harder and harder to concentrate during the day. My appetite is nowhere near as big as it used to be; even the hotdogs in the Cafeteria don't seem very satisfying anymore. And it's getting difficult to find the time and the energy to train and exercise, something I love to do.

Tonight's position was basic; something he did when he was too lazy to try anything new. I was sprawled on his bed, my arms uneasily pulled over my head and securely bound to the head board with some handcuffs that I was starting to think were made of some super-metal. My feet had been left free; something I was grateful for. They were currently twisted in the sheets, courtesy of my attempts to sloppily cover myself from the waist down. Seifer must have been in a good mood, 'coz he didn't do anything about it.

My fingers curled, balling my hands into fists, and I gave a tug at the cold metal that dug deep into my wrists. They were tight enough to make every motion of my hands a regretful one, where I was only hopelessly straining myself, and it made things easier for him.

"It's pitiful, the way you follow him around like some homesick puppy. Loyal, dependable, but effortless to boss around and so easy to train."

He was calling me weak; something that somehow always struck a nerve, and he knew it. Then again, I can't remember how many times we went through this discussion, but it only seemed to effect me more each and every time.

He was wearing a white T-shirt and navy boxers and nothing else, crawling onto the foot of the bed. A terrified tingle in the lowest part of my stomach was suffocating me as he seated himself all nice and cozy at my feet. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat but choked on it, biting my lower lip to block the whimper as Seifer slipped a hand under the sheets without effort, even with the way they all interweaved in themselves and me. His coarse fingers were tickling my ankle.

"Everyone has dreams, chickie. Even you, am I right?" His grin was feral. "Even you want to live your own fairy-tale. Your perfect ending. You're such a dreamer."

I squeezed my eyes shut. Sweat that had been beading on my forehead had somehow flowed down my face without my knowing it, and had spilled into my eyes, stinging on contact. Seifer's hand was now fully wrapped around my ankle, and he let out a satisfied breath., as if his skin touching mine was enough to intoxicate him.

"So doesn't the idea of being with a knight make your heart soar?"

It was obvious he was talking about himself, he always did. His hand started to trail up my leg, stopping at my kneecap to wriggle his fingers there.

"Or does that… only ruffle your feathers?"

He told me too many times how he loved the feel of me. He would rant on and on about soft skin and toned muscles, broad shoulders and an innocent face. It made me sick.

The sweat in my eyes was gone and forgotten, but the tears that wanted to chase it kept me from seeing clearly. The defenselessness of exposure and the embarrassment of the situation itself was something I had eventually learned to accept. But his words… It was his words I couldn't handle.

I knew what was coming next. It was the part I always prepared myself for the most, but it was never enough.

"Squall's not the hero everyone thinks he is."

'Coz it's bullshit. Squall is a hero. He's more than that. He's my world...

His hand resumed its path, getting rougher and pushing harder as it crept up my thigh and dangerously close to other things.

"You don't believe me? Still?"

My breath hitched. Seifer was crawling closer now, stopping just above my stomach and straddling me there. He let his finger hover over my collarbone, letting me feel only a ghost of a touch as he let it trail in oddly deformed circles around my chest, sides, and neck. Every so often, he would favor my nipples, and I had to chomp down maliciously on my bottom lip to swallow ANY sound, causing it to bleed. Finally, he pressed the full size of his hands onto my chest, gliding them around like it didn't hurt me.

I gasped at the sudden rush of cold that came from his touch, but quickly adjusted. Still, I could feel myself shiver – out of the temperature or the wailing of my heart, I don't know – and I kept quaking, while the blonde on top of me rubbed the length of both of my arms, uncaringly squeezing my muscles in rapturous pleasure, enough that I knew there would be bruises there later, eventually moving on to my neck, rubbing it. I gave a small grunt in protest, and he went on with the lecture that by now, he had mastered.

"Trust me, he's no hero. It would be smart of you to ditch that little fantasy of yours," he chuckled, cruelly and sarcastically.

Like always, he saw the difference in my eyes, and like always, he said what he always did.

"If he's such a hero to you, where is he now?"

I closed my eyes only because I couldn't cover my ears. I didn't want to hear any of this. Squall wasn't here because he didn't know. If he knew… he'd be here in a second spite Seifer's threats. His threats were never empty, that was for sure, but it never scared Squall. However, I wasn't expecting him to burst through the door, defeat the bad guy, and ride off with me on a white stallion, be uh… yeah, he definitely wouldn't let this go down. But if I told him… about my feelings, or this… if he knew…

If he knew…

"You can't keep lying to yourself, Zell," him saying my actual name meant he wanted me to pay serious attention, and I pried my eyes open, seeing his hands framing my face out of the corners of my eyes, as they were now cupping my cheeks. Somehow, I couldn't feel them.

"There's no such thing as heros…"

He was sprawled on top of me now, charging at my face, pulling me towards his, and his lips were on mine in the next instant.

I always try to resist when he does it, not caring about the consequences; it just feels too WRONG for his lips to be there. Uh… I mean, everything he does feels wrong, but… Along with already feeling violated and unclean, My Grandfather had once told me, and something inside me tells me as well, that a kiss is something special that you share with someone else you think is special… and Seifer was not that person. I always try to fight it, but there's never anywhere to run. All I can do is bury the back of my head deeper into the pillow, but eventually, I'm not able to pull away.

His tongue had forced its way into my mouth and he was devouring it. My whimpers grew frantic, sounding more like muffled groans of encouragement, and I tried to pull away, tried to pull my head back but the fucking bed was in the fucking way, and he only dove deeper. Twisting my head to the side only allowed him to adjust his weight on top of me.

Once he had proven that he was determined to kiss me either way, his hands left my face only after tracing my tattoo, and landed firmly at my hips. His hands started to rub in small circles, and forced their way under my ass, cupping either cheek with his freezing palms.

One profound cry escaped my mouth, only throwing my tongue more into Seifer's, and I jerked forward as if I could sit up if I tried, but he pushed me back down with his mouth. I only closed my eyes tighter; what could I do?

"Don't do that... If you make faces, it won't be as enjoyable..."

The tears that I had been holding back finally emerged when his hands started to slowly squeeze where they were located, soft at first, then harsh, then downright painful. I could feel something moving from within his boxers; it was pressing into my stomach. His tongue left my mouth, leaving a bitter taste, and let it roam over to the side, where he kissed and licked at my cheek. The sick bastard was eating my tears, and humming in satisfaction.

In seconds that seemed more like hours, he pulled away and rolled off of the bed, breathing hard and licking his lips.

He glided over to the corner of the room, where his gunblade sat obediently. His hand reached out to pet the trigger, then he ran his finger gently down the blade. Any interaction with Seifer and his weapon sent my stomach on the craziest of rollercoaster rides, and I have to swallow the spiteful saliva that explodes from my throat and into my mouth.

At least it tasted better than Seifer.

My head rose as high as my arrangement would let me, and my eyes trailed down to my stomach and chest, where marks and cuts from previous sittings infected my flesh. They were ugly, and were taking their good old time fading. I'm usually a fast healer, but my scars take somewhere near a lifetime to disappear.

The physical ones anyway...

With his hand resting on the handle of his favorite toy, he looked over at me. I… I don't want him to bring that thing over here, I don't want to put up with it tonight. I'm getting sick of seeing pink water run down the drain of my shower, and of trying to find clothing that would cover all the marks.

But, somebody up there must still like me – if only just a little bit – because he walked to the other side of the room without the weapon, keeping his eyes on me and putting his pointer finger and thumb to his lips, kissing it and pulling it away like he had just finished a wonderful meal.

"You taste so good, you know that?"

And for the first time the whole entire night, I said something, forcing myself to sound strong even though I felt so weak.

"Fuck you, Seifer."

He grinned and leaned in close to pat annoyingly at my stained cheek.

"Not yet, chickie, not yet…"

He left the room after that, like so many times, leaving a shrill gust of nothingness that proved I was alone again. Sometimes it's for a few minutes, sometimes it's for the rest of the night. Sometimes, it's till he remembers. But he leaves me there, as if I wasn't even there to begine with, as if I didn't have things to do, and as if I could recharge in the dark and would be ready for another round when he got back.

'Not yet', huh…?

True, Seifer had not actually molested me to the point of… rape… w-which at this point, is the only thing I can be thankful for. But this dread in my stomach grows every day, because Seifer seemed like hewas the kind of guy to go through with something like that…

I gave one last pull at my bonds, but they were just as strong as they always were. In my head, I knew I had to avoid getting too close to Squall… at least when Seifer was around. Admitting my feelings was out of the question now; it would just cause problems for Squall, maybe even hurt him, or the both of us. It was easy, easy to figure out. My head understood it completely, crystal clear like glass! My brain was totally sure of itself!

…I just hope that... my heart can comprehend it.