Authoress' Notes:

Ah… yeah. To any of you who are waiting for updates on "Enemy"… umm… :point: Look! Sephiroth's over there! He's humping Cloud! :hide: Yeah… I'm thoroughly stumped on that one. (Actually, Sephiroth's hijacking of my story just about led to that diversion up there, hence the delay/temporary death of said story. xD) Hopefully just writing fanfiction in general will make my muse get her act together?

Anyways, I love this couple. Seifer/Hayner. Seiner. Sayner. Heifer (:giggle: They're a cow!). My personal favorite is Hayfer, but really, the list is endless. I've seen tons of amazing stories from Hayner's POV, and that seems like it would be easier to write- but for some reason, I really wanted to try Seifer's. I dunno. Maybe it's the beanie, 'cause that's one sexy beanie.

I feel like my writing style's changed in some way, but I'm not sure. Hopefully it's a good change, though.

Rated for references to the male anatomy. Ah, Seifer, you perv!

Disclaimer: I dun own anything!

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Pondering

Seifer Almasy had never really been one to think about feelings. He left that to people like Fuu- it was truly scary how much emotional insight and analysis the girl could fit into one or two words. Still, Seifer couldn't deny that sometimes, feelings insisted on being pondered, whether or not that fit in with the ponderer's plans. Bowing silently to this universal law, Seifer sat down in the sunset shade of an alley, within sight of the Sandlot, and proceeded to ponder.

Lately, Seifer had been realizing that there was a problem. It was a small problem, he supposed, in the grand scheme of things… and yet, in a way, it was a huge problem (to him, at least). A few years ago, an upcoming Struggle had meant what it was supposed to mean- a chance to excel, a chance to win, a chance to prove himself the best of all the challengers. He was supposed to think about a Struggle and think about how excited he was that it was finally time for all that practice to pay off, for his muscles to burn, for his breath to come in pants, for his heart to race with the thrill of victory.

He was decidedly not supposed to think about Hayner.

Seifer wasn't sure when this unhealthy and fairly unsettling interest in the other boy had begun. All he knew was that, at some point, he'd realized that maybe scanning for weakness wasn't quite the only reason his eyes darted across Hayner's sweaty, defiant form. He'd realized that maybe, just maybe, he was putting a little more thought into the exchanges he and Hayner had before and after a match than the match itself. Ok, so maybe (maybe!) he'd even noticed that he was pinning the other boy to the ground a bit more often than was entirely necessary, and staying on top of him a few seconds longer than was non-creepy.

For a few months now, Seifer had been dealing with these disturbing revelations the mature way- he'd been tormenting Hayner nonstop and had kept up a relentless stream of scathing insults every time the other teen was within earshot. Maybe, just maybe, if he kept telling Hayner how much he sucked, Seifer himself would remember that and stop thinking about him in such a disgustingly positive light. Anyways, it got him attention, and lately Seifer craved attention from Hayner far more than he would admit even to his own teddy bear. Yes, Seifer had a teddy bear. His name was Professor Fluffsikins. Shut up. Tough guys always have teddy bears.

In any case, after the day's events, Seifer was beginning to think that his strategy wasn't working as well as he might have hoped. It had started out working just fine, of course… but then an unfortunate coincidence and an evil burst of hormones had complicated his life more than he could fully comprehend.

-

Hayner winced, switching his Struggle bat to his left hand and shaking his right hand violently. Seifer had, through a combination of a little skill and a lot of luck, managed to smack him right on the funny bone, making his entire right arm feel numb for a second. His left arm was slower than his right, so he wasn't quite fast enough to block Seifer's next vicious hit. The people of Twilight Town had thought they'd stumbled upon a foolproof formula for bloodless sport, using those silly foam bats. That was before Seifer and Hayner had begun their now-famous rivalry. Hayner hissed as he felt a sting on his wrist and instinctively looked down for a second to look at the cut that was starting to bleed there.

That was a mistake, as Hayner soon realized. Seifer took full advantage of the other's momentary distraction and dove at him, knocking him to the ground. Had this been an official Struggle, Seifer probably would have been disqualified for intentionally winding Hayner, but the two had simple been bored and a little touchy today. That was almost always a formula for an impromptu Struggle match after school. The blue foam bats rolled away from the pair, forgotten, as the older boy pinned his rival down.

Seifer smirked, leaning his weight onto his opponent, who was gasping for breath. Hayner's chocolate brown eyes glared at him, but, Seifer thought smugly, they both knew who'd won: Seifer, of course. The aforementioned victor decided to lean down and whisper a taunt or two into the younger blonde's ear, just to annoy him. Ok, so maybe he might investigate the smell of the other's shampoo while he was at it, but that wasn't why he was leaning down.

It was at that moment that Seifer realized the risks created by pinning his opponent. They were lying, one over each other, so that their feet were pretty much over each other. So were their chests, their heads… Seifer knew this, but it wasn't until he felt a jolt of contact that he registered that this also placed certain other areas in close proximity. He knew from Hayner's sharp, badly concealed, gasp that he wasn't the only one to notice.

Now, Seifer could have still saved face. He could have ignored it, or brushed it off as just an accident and nothing more. He could have simply stood up and stalked away. Yes, Seifer had many options open to him at the moment, each of which would have, with varying degrees of success, salvaged the situation.

So why didn't he take one of those options? The answer is simple. From the moment he'd felt his crotch brush the other's, Seifer had been helpless, an innocent victim of teenaged aggression and hormones. At least, that was certainly what he would tell himself. There was really no other explanation for the fact that his lips were suddenly on Hayner's! This wasn't the kind of kiss he could explain away either. It wasn't an, "Oh, my bad. I leaned the wrong way and my lips bumped yours!" kind of kiss. Oh no. This was more like the kind of kiss that led to a very bad porno- more enthusiasm than skill, more drool than was at all necessary, and maybe bordering a little on mouth-rape. It was the kiss of a teenaged boy who was basically thinking with his penis, which, with little regard for consequences, was creating one royal mess for his brain to deal with later. It was only Hayner's shocked squeak that made Seifer realize exactly what was going on.

Seifer rolled to the side and jumped up as if Hayner was the doomed carrier of some dreaded disease. Face flushed, both from complete mortification and from something that couldn't be arousal, because it was Hayner for God's sake, Seifer did what he probably should have done in the first place.

He walked away.

-

Now, a few hours later, Seifer scowled. He had a sinking feeling that he knew what this whole situation was telling him, but he desperately wished he was wrong. Still, judging from the still-happy situation in his pants, it looked like Seifer could no longer deny that he was beyond attracted to the other boy. It wasn't the fact that he was attracted to a guy that bothered Seifer. He'd never really thought about his orientation, simply noticing that he liked guys more than girls from a fairly early age. No, no… it was the fact that he was attracted to this particular guy that was driving him crazy.

Seifer wasn't silly and sentimental. He knew perfectly well that there was an enormous difference between physical and emotional attraction. He knew that what he was feeling was attraction on a purely physical level- lust. The problem was that lust tended to start a guy down that slippery slope. Lust could lead to slight feelings, maybe as simple as wanting to keep a good lay to himself. Those tiny feelings could, in turn, lead to more significant feelings, and so it went until Seifer would end up pledging his undying affection for that little twerp. That was definitely a path Seifer would prefer to avoid.

This mindfuck of a ponder-session was all very good, but Seifer had done nothing but admit truths he'd already known. The biggest question nagging at his brain was, simply: what to do about it? He somehow doubted that life would go on as normal after a kiss like that. He felt a twinge of sadness at that thought, but firmly told himself that it was just because he didn't want to be deprived of his eye-candy. His very nice eye-candy… He groaned in exasperation, massaging his temples, as he realized that, rather than going away, his pants-tent was taking on epic proportions.

Seifer shook his head, standing. Fuck pondering- all this was getting him was a headache and a hard-on. Annoyed that he was nowhere near figuring out what to do about this whole mess, Seifer stalked murderously away from the Sandlot and disappeared, fuming, into the gathering night.

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Ok, so now that it won't spoil anything, I'd like to point out my favorite line in this whole piece. See that last paragraph right there? "A headache and a hard-on". Doesn't it sound like the title for… I dunno. An action movie? A mystery novel? A country ballad? The most epically win-filled RPG ever? xD

Anyways, I've never written Seifer before. He's a tricky little twerp. Hopefully I got him right!

One final, pointless note. Not sure if you could tell, but I love the word "ponder". No idea why, but that word = epic win.

Please review!