"It can't be much fun to sit out in the rain, Leonhart." Seifer's voice is soft and gentle and full of something painstakingly close to kindness and caring, and his hand is on Squall's shoulder in a gentle, reassuring gesture, pressing a light pressure down. The rain is pouring down all around them, soaking through the wool sweater that Squall is dressed in, slate-gray fibers turning almost black. A mist coats all around them from the cold, cold rain, the fields that stretch out from this little balcony on Garden looking more like a sea of fog than solid ground. It makes everything look ethereal and surreal, but it's peaceful, soothing, and relaxing, a nice, soft gray contrast to the bright, glaring world they live in.
Seifer is standing behind, silent, an understanding companion, and Squall is leaning against the railing, arms crossed on the chilly metal, his hair pulled down over storm-blue eyes and masking his face from view. Seifer thinks Squall looks younger when he's out here, drenched in the autumn rain, like the water has washed away the years that have built up on top of him, leaving the teen he remembers from before underneath.
Squall turns to look at Seifer over his shoulder, acknowledging his ex-rival's presence with the tilt of his head. Seifer takes the invitation, and steps up beside him, leaning in a similar fashion against the metal bars, green eyes squinting out over the scenery.
Seifer thinks he understands why Squall likes it out here during the rain so much. It's soothing, but he thinks that it can't be all that comfortable in that sweater of Squall's, heavy cloth clinging to his skin and weighing him down. Squall doesn't seem to mind it all that much, though, so he doesn't say anything other than what he's already said, and, instead, watches the rainfall.
Squall glances over to him, dark eyes watching his every move, and, for a little while, he manages to block it out, pretend that Squall's not watching, but he crumbles as the watching continues, crumbles under that steady gaze, just like he always does, and turns to face the lion.
"Why did you come out here?" Squall's voice has a little stain of apprehension in it that makes Seifer cringe, but he brushes it off as an old habit brought about by old scars.
Seifer smiles at him, waving out toward the fields they had been watching. The sun is coming up somewhere in the distance, giving the fog an illuminated eeriness to it that really isn't that eerie at all, once he gets a better look at it and at the glittering moisture trapped in the waves of light gray, and the sky is painted a speckled gold, red and yellow all mixed together with the lingering darkness of night.
It's only been two months since he's come back home, but things have managed to settle down between them. Past war regrets forgotten and mistakes behind them, he's back where he belongs, sporting a fresh new SeeD uniform and a high ranking badge courtesy of the Balamb Commander himself. He was meet with opposition, of course, but Squall had smashed that with a short, clear speech and a formal statement clarifying his role in the war, and that had been that.
And now he is home, back into the old routine as if he had never been without it. He enjoys the familiarity of it all, enjoys this place more than he thought he would. Enjoys being back with Leonhart, although he'll never admit it.
"What are you doing up this early?" Squall glares at him, lips curled in a dissatisfied frown, and Seifer thinks the Commander's gotten too used to everyone doing as they're told, and he makes it a point to remind Squall that he's not like everyone else in Garden.
But maybe later.
"I have work to do." Squall's answers are always crisp and to the point, and Seifer nods out toward the horizon in response, eyebrow quirked in question.
"This doesn't really look like 'work' to me." His response is a glare and Squall turning away from him, his attention focused back out toward the fog and rain and sun. The lion leans out over the railing a little bit more, as if to let the pouring rain swallow him up and take him away, and Seifer moves an inch closer to him, as if he's ready to grab the man were he to fall from his position, although he highly doubts that will happen.
"I'm watching the rain. Better?" Seifer nods, and Squall falls back onto the metal balcony, pulling away from the railing to look up at Seifer, dark eyebrows arched. "What are you doing out here?"
Seifer shrugs, turns to come face to face with Squall, and pulls up a content smirk.
He's been home for just two months, but already things are falling back into place, putting themselves back together. Awkward as it is, expected as it had been, they've slipped back into that little rhythm of theirs already, that tangle of love and companionship and rivalry that comprises what they are.
The rain is slowing down to a pleasant drizzle, although by now he's soaked through as well, golden hair falling around his eyes and tickling over his ears. He doesn't really mind the rain nearly as much as he should, and he ignores the stiff stick of his clothing to his arms and back. He slicks his hair back with one hand, clearing it from his eyes, before he wraps his arms around Squall's hips. He pulls him close, regardless of the tangle of wet clothing between them, and tilts his head down, lips lightly brushing over Squall's before he traps him in a soft kiss, gentle and fitting for their surroundings and the rain and them. The soft moments are rare, but when they come around, Seifer clings to them, savors them, drags them out, and now is one of those rare moments, so he does just that, not caring about the rain any more.
He pulls back a moment later, arms still around Squall's pretty, slender hips, grin plastered on his face, and he notices that Squall is smiling, too, despite himself, and it occurs to him that things have changed between them and with them, and, for once in two months, he thinks that that change really wasn't a bad thing at all.
He smiles, and kisses Squall again, and grins when he feels the lion give up in his arms, just like he always does.
"Watching."
