Chapter Notes:

Well, I think I have to say that writing from Seifer's point of view is much more fun, because it's a lot more fun to focus in on the emotional side of the story. Still, there will be times when I'll have to put in Hayner's two cents, but that's why I'm glad that I've set it up this way.

PS: MORE TERRIFIC REVIEWS. :D I'm so pleased by the response, you have no idea. And yes, I'm sorry for the teaser last chapter, but I am a little sadistic. Bear with me. ; This chapter is dedicated to someone- they know who they are. For being a kick-ass muse and helping me through a lot of writing blocks- I hope you like this, bitch.

Disclaimer: This is my twisted reality in which people that have the same names and look JUST LIKE the KH characters are used. So… maybe they are mine! –Twilight Zone Musac-

At 8 AM on Saturday, Seifer rode the slow ride down to the underground garage. The darkness made the man shiver, and the ghost of Hayner's death grip around his arm didn't help. Swallowing thickly, throwing his muscular shoulders back and pulling down on his black beanie, he marched purposefully to his car and revved the engine before shooting out of the garage like a bat out of hell. He paid no heed to the speed limit, making it to the suburban neighborhood in half the time it had originally taken. All the way his heart pounded idiotically as he began to think about what to say, and what to do. He knew that he had to do this before he lost his nerve, and his sense of purpose.

It took him a minute to remember which house had been Hayner's; when he found it he quickly threw his car into the driveway and strode up to the door, slamming his fist against the red-painted wood, the beaten up old skateboard tucked beneath one arm. After some impatient fidgeting on his part, the door opened and revealed a middle-aged, squat, spherical man with a huge bald spot surrounded by thin black hair. He looked understandably annoyed and tired; it was pretty early.

"Yes, what can I do for you?" he slurred sleepily, glowering up at Seifer.

"Um… I'm here to talk to Hayner," the blonde man explained, feeling like a young boy under the gaze of a scrutinizing parent.

"Who?" the man grumbled, sleepily rubbing one eye. Seifer raised a brow, wondering how bad of a parent one person could be.

"Your son, Hayner-?" he realized suddenly that he didn't even know the kid's last name.

"My son?" The man burst into short, snort-filled chuckles, his chin flaps wobbling with the vigorous movement. "I don't have any children- I'm not even married!" he exclaimed, spit flying from his puffy lips as he shook his head slowly from side to side once he had calmed down. "You've really got the wrong house, buddy." Before Seifer could begin to comprehend what the obese gentleman had said, the door was closed quietly in his face, leaving him abandoned on the front steps, skateboard in hand.

It couldn't be a case of mistaken house identity- although he hadn't been paying close attention, every house on the block looked radically different in design and color. Stunned beyond words, the man gradually shuffled over to his car and threw the skateboard in the backseat before he smoothly, slowly drove out unto the main street.

Why had Hayner made him drive all the way out there if that wasn't even his house? Was it because the kid lived in a poor part of town, and hadn't wanted to make a bad first impression? Whatever the reason, as he parked his car and began to climb the stairs up to the top floor, Seifer's original confusion and worry began to ebb into anger and frustration. Now he had absolutely no way to contact the little lying shit unless he saw him or one of his friends wandering around- a chance encounter that would be hard to have, considering the size of the city.

By the fifth floor, he was beginning to feel a little less angry- exercise was good for that. Yet, by the time he'd reached the eighth floor, he missed the anger compared to the hollow, wrenching feeling that had settled in his intestines. Along with that came a throbbing ache in his chest akin to disappointment that the boy hadn't chosen to trust him. Add that up and mix in a headache with the same amount of pain as a bullet to the brain and, yes, anger really was a better emotion.

By the eleventh floor, Seifer could barely breathe as he fought to contain his feelings. He'd become too tired to really think things through, thank God, but the headache was getting worse, and the panicky worry was setting in across his neck and shoulders.

"If this keeps up," he spat loudly as he opened the door to the twelfth floor and then the door to his penthouse, "I'm going to be a fucking cripple before the day is up."

"If what keeps up?" an innocent voice inquired from within the room. Seifer's first response was fear and anger at the thought of a break in, but, as he turned and faced the couch, it all melted away – along with the headache, the hollow wrenching feeling, the aching chest, and the heavy bar of worry pressing across his shoulders.

"Hayner-!" he breathed, a grin spreading his lips apart. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware of his heart quietly exploding.

After the initial shock and blossoming relief, Seifer's hands tightened into white-knuckled fists as the anger pounded away at his temple.

"You little shit!" he roared, chucking the skateboard straight at the teen without a second thought. The boy ducked, eyes wide as dinner plates, and the board clattered against the entertainment system. "How the hell can you just come in here, acting like nothing's wrong, sitting on the flippin' couch-"

"Seifer, what…!" Hayner leapt up and backed as far away from Seifer as he could get, his expression wary.

"Do you have any fucking idea what I went through today? Why the hell did you lie to me, Hayner?" His volume began to lower and he was able to keep his tone in check as he slowly approached the couch and gripped tightly at the back, taking deep breaths in through his nose. This was too much to handle, this roller coaster of sadness and anger and happiness and worry, all combining into one huge wave of nausea and pain. Coming closer, Hayner's face paled as the words sunk in.

"I… I never thought that I'd see you again. What would it matter if I lied to a complete stranger?" he muttered, hands nervously clenched at the bottom of his shirt.

"Yeah, and then you came back, and I-" Seifer ripped off his beanie and shoved a hand back through his hair. "After practically a month you still didn't think it was worth it to share that with me? It would've been nice to tell me at least before you fucking ran away, chickenwuss!" Closing the distance between them in one easy jump over the back of the couch, the man reached out and shoved the teen back roughly; the only thing he could think to do.

"Shit, Seifer! I'm sorry- why the hell were you even looking for me?"

"Because you left your stupid ass board here," Seifer growled, throwing his gaze to the beat up chunk of wood before returning his fire-hot glare to Hayner. "I could ask the same as to why the hell you were sitting on my couch before I even got home."

"Olette gave me the key, told me that it was from you," Hayner whispered, staring with rapt fascination at the circular floor rug on which he was standing. "So, I figured I'd come by and say that I was sorry for just leaving the other day…"

"OH kid, you owe me a lot more than a simple apology," Seifer muttered, picking up his cap from the couch cushions and pulling it low over his head. "Look," he sighed, "How about I make us some coffee, and then you can tell me everything."

During the entirety of the coffee's brewing, neither male said a word until the hot drink was done.

"It's plain black coffee, since I don't know what you like," Seifer muttered, shoving the ceramic mug, another smaller cup with milk, and a large, diner-sized sugar shaker towards the teen before taking a sip of his own black coffee lightened with a splash of whole-fat milk and exactly half of a regular spoonful of sugar. "Now, talk."

Hayner averted making eye contact as he stirred in the provided ingredients.

"I never really knew them," he started, shrugging as a small smile came across his face, though it didn't reach his eyes. "So I guess I'm lucky there. My mom died early on, something she never recovered from when she … when I was born. There were rumors that she was weak to begin with, rumors that my dad used to beat her, even when she was pregnant. I was two years old when my dad left me at the citywide orphanage, and only ten when I decided to run away. It was so depressing there… all the parents would file in, they'd clean the place out, but it was always the same every time. Would-be-parents always want a baby- either because they're cute, or because they want to have the child think of them as their birth parents. Whatever the reason, I was too old, like a lot of the other kids there, but only I was brave enough and smart enough to get out of there while I could." He paused to take a sip from his somewhat cooler drink, still not looking Seifer in the eye. "Yeah, they looked for me, at first… maybe four to six months, I don't really remember. I was able to make some alliances – Pence, Olette, and Roxas, you met them earlier this week." For the first time, Hayner looked up and gazed sheepishly at Seifer, as if to apologize for his friend's actions. "I always stayed with them… or on the streets."

Across the counter, Seifer gave a huffing sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck. He knew it was Hayner's chance to spill, though, so he didn't say a word as the teen collected his next words.

"I met Rake when I was in sixth grade. He … he was tutoring me. The first time he ever did anything... out of the ordinary was the day he jumped me that day under the bridge, though," he added hurriedly, a thick blush rising up from the base of his neck. "… That pretty much brings you up to date, yeah?" Seifer was staring intently at the younger boy, who squirmed under the penetrating gaze.

"Sheesh, Hayner…. You're right out of some prime-time soap opera." After the boy released a wry chuckle, Seifer became serious. "But, come on, kid, why couldn't you just tell me? You should have seen the fat, disgusting ass that I had to deal with today looking for you. That, and …" he petered out, distracting himself by taking a long sip of his practically cold coffee. He had to get this out, and he knew every word that would appear in the simple explanation- they just didn't want to go out under the spotlight. The smarter, logical half of his brain wouldn't let him say it, while the other, more whimsical side of him pushed that it was the right thing to do- what did he have to lose, really? With a steadying breath, he reached out and put his hand over Hayner's, earnestly fighting back a blush. "And, if you… you know, ever need me, and shit… I need to be able to find you."

Hayner's face contorted for a moment- first what Seifer interpreted as shock, then worry, then guilt, and, finally, gratefulness. Then, of course, the one thing that Seifer couldn't handle; tears. They started slow, just running from his eyes like a leaky faucet; if he hadn't been looking close, he would have missed it. And then, the sobs wrenched from the teen's throat, and Seifer felt a wave of nauseating guilt and a rush of awkwardness as he slid from his stool and wandered slowly around the counter, thinking about what to do. As if to accent the moment, Hayner brought up small fisted hands and pressed them against his eyes, biting down harshly on his lower lip as if to stifle a scream. In a rush of protective instinct, the man reached out and brought the boy against his chest with a thud, one hand twisted in the blonde waves while the other was down beneath the curve of his waist. Hayner hiccupped once before pushing gently away and standing up straight; Seifer let the hand on his hair fall away, though he kept the other hand hovering, afraid the kid might faint on him, or something close to it. Their eyes locked- Hayner's a warm, liquid brown, brimming with moisture, Seifer's icy blue, conflicting emotions like a brewing storm, though he kept his mouth in a firm, neutral line. The teen's lips quivered, his hands uselessly laid against Seifer's flat stomach. Out of seemingly nowhere, a hot red blush illuminated the skater's cheeks, and the man felt a rush of fire pooling just below where Hayner's hands lay.

Seifer fell, then- at least, his head did. It wasn't that far of a drop, just a few inches downwards until their lips gently brushed, a sensation like touching a charged piece of plastic and receiving a solid shock. It almost hurt, and Hayner gasped and pushed back. The look in the boy's eyes – a mix of panic and primal fear – broke through the haze in Seifer's mind. Hayner had turned and walked away, and now his forehead was leaning against the large windows on the far wall. Tentatively, on the edge of another, further fall, Seifer edged closer, his mind thankfully silent of all logic and whimsy, just a simple need to get close and make sure that the boy was okay, that he hadn't just ruined everything. The light coming in through the glass was a little too bright, even though a heavy layer of cloud cover marred it. But, even in the dulled light, it was hard to hide how red Hayner's cheeks were, or how unsure the glint in his eye was as the man stared at the teen's reflection in the glass. Swallowing thickly, thin beads of sweat rolling down the back of his neck, Seifer was struck with one thought that caused the sensation in his stomach to flutter faintly. Hayner had pushed away, but he hadn't left.

Closing the gap between them, Seifer brought his arms around the teen and spread his palms out, one above the other, across Hayner's stomach. He could feel his own pulse in his throat with every breath. Tentatively, reading Hayner's every move, the man placed his chin on the skater's shoulder, facing the nape of his neck. He pressed his lips gently against the beating pulse, unable to resist the sigh that ripped through his lungs when he felt all the stress in him melt away. Hayner squirmed, but when Seifer took a chance to read the teen's expression, his chocolate eyes were closed, a blissful smile lifting up his lips at the corners.

Taking a mad leap, Seifer moved his hands down and then up underneath Hayner's t-shirt, marveling at how smooth and soft the skin felt. There was no worry now, no hesitation; all he wanted to do was explore, to learn about every inch of the boy's skin. It was much too easy to forget how the skater was years younger. Hayner turned in his arms; Seifer froze, afraid he'd done something wrong. The boy looked up at him, the warm chocolate eyes no longer hesitant- they were calm as he reached up and took the older man's scarred face in his hands, using it as leverage to pull himself up and engross the two in a heated kiss. The fire spread up from Seifer's stomach, the sensation causing him to moan as his resolve disappeared and he kissed back, sandwiching Hayner against the wall. The young blonde's tongue darted out in a surprisingly bold move, running along the seam of Seifer's lips. His head spinning and his thoughts blank, Seifer's lips parted almost immediately, the two male's tongues darting out simultaneously to battle for supremacy. Seifer was partly aware of the loud panting keen that Hayner emitted when he bit down on the blonde's lower lip with a possessive growl, while his calloused hands continued their goose bump inducing wanderings. When his hands reached the teen's chest, he worked one nipple between his fingers, muffling the loud, low moans by pressing his lips harder into the kiss.

"S-seifer!" Hayner gasped, breaking the kiss and throwing his head back with a resounding bang against the windowpane. Seifer's hands whipped out and up, reaching to cradle the blonde's head against further pain, leaning their foreheads together with an amused smirk.

"…Kid," He finally panted, unable to bring himself to actually say his name, "What the fuck are we doing?"

Hayner growled and surged up to engage in a bruising kiss, barely able to tangle his hands in Seifer's short hair.

"Do we really have to discuss this now?" Hayner mumbled against dry lips before drawing back and pulling his shirt over his head in a fluid motion. Seifer could only stare as the cloudy light illuminated the smooth, flat plane of Hayner's stomach, the gentle, sloped bulge of thin biceps moving beneath the faintly tan skin; it was too beautiful. Uttering a low oath, Seifer attached his lips to Hayner's neck and ran a string of kisses up to the ear lobe and down to the collarbone, getting a thrill from the way Hayner shivered and went slack in his arms. The heat in his stomach began to pool lower; Hayner's hands came up from being limp to press against his chest and pushed them apart. Still a little breathless and stunned, Seifer's brow furrowed as he took in Hayner's clouded, half-lidded eyes. Coming around a bit, the teen looked down between them and then back up at Seifer, a blush deepening on his cheeks to almost a shade of maroon. Seifer looked down, his gaze shooting back up quickly as the message sunk in. He began to untangle his hands from Hayner's hair and tried to build a gap between them, though the skater clung tightly to his shirt, making that a little harder than it should have been.

"I…Hayner," He stumbled over the name, trying to hold the tide of reality at bay, fighting to not ruin the moment. Smooth hands reached up, cupping his cheeks, one thumb caressing the scar tissue. Hayner smiled, eyes still half-lidded. Seifer shifted his weight back, moving one leg forward and between Hayner's thighs, a shiver shooting down his spine when Hayner groaned and arched his back, eyes fluttering closed.

"Seifer… please," he panted, and Seifer knew he had no willpower against a plea like that. He was putty in this young man's – he couldn't think boy's – hands. He'd wanted only to explore, to learn, to taste, but it had been out of his control the minute he'd let go, the minute he'd decided to not walk away, but to step forward and initiate. He knew he couldn't walk away now any more than a pig could learn to fly. He had set this into motion, and he had to finish it.

That wasn't to say he didn't want to finish it, but he knew that, come morning, he wouldn't be able to look Hayner in the eye. Hayner had been vulnerable, in need of comfort when Seifer had pressed their lips together for the first time. Even now, as he pressed his fingers against Hayner's stomach and deftly played his fingers along the waistband of the teen's cargo shorts, he felt a stab of guilt and self-loathing that he wasn't being the adult in this like he should have done from the very start.

He swooped Hayner up into his arms, his legs quickly wrapping around Seifer's waist as the man quickly walked toward his bedroom, locking his lips with Hayner's in an effort to create the haze again and lighten the serious, logical thoughts swirling in his mind. That, and he was horrified to find that he was already addicted to the flavor that the teen had and took every chance he could to thrust his tongue in the other's mouth to taste it. As gently – and safely – as he could, he threw his one-night-stand unto the bed in the dead center of the room, headboard pressed against the far wall from the doorway. Hayner's gaze was no longer hazy and unaware; his eyes were burning, an indecently sexy, expectant smirk splitting his face as he shimmied up to the top of the bed and placed his head back against the pillows, his hair fanning out around his face in weakly gelled disarray. Seifer groaned and lunged, landing with his knees on either side of the blonde's waist, his fingers quickly undoing the buckle to a belt and then the zipper to the pants, suddenly blood-lust-eager. Hayner's hips rose to his touch, which only caused his own reminder of how much he wanted this to throb embarrassingly. Fighting back the red-hot blush, he gingerly removed the last article of clothing on the boy that was spread eagerly beneath him. He felt a sort of gratitude, unexplainable in no other way than the way one would feel towards someone who allowed them to lay eyes upon their most precious possession. Hayner hissed as the waistband was moved down, the only change in his expression a brief lowering of his eyelids.

When he took the time to examine all that lay before him, Seifer made a – in his mind – dire decision. He could not have him, now, even though Hayner was eagerly offering himself up to him. It wasn't even the age difference; Seifer's mind was too full to think of that. It was just that he didn't think that Hayner deserved that, that the moment would be thus ruined. That would be the one line he would not cross this night.

Seifer locked gazes with Hayner for a long minute, reading every emotion brewing within those warm brown eyes. Hayner made an impatient noise in the back of his throat and reached up, trying to find purchase. Seifer leaned his head down, letting his face be tugged roughly down for a chaste kiss, to remind him what he had felt just minutes before- eagerness and lust.

"Go ahead," Hayner whispered, his voice weak and wavering. It was the only invitation Seifer needed, the icing on the cake. He pulled back – not before biting and pulling on the boy's already swollen lower lip – and repositioned himself on the bed. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he leaned down again and kissed at Hayner's inner thigh, slowly heading northward. When he reached the base of the teen's arousal, his tongue lashed out and he swiped in an upward streak before cutting to the chase and taking him, completely, into his mouth. Hayner shuddered and moaned above him, but Seifer was past listening. His eyes fell closed as he found a rhythm of ups and downs, occasionally stopping and licking sensually before resuming the original pattern. Soon, Hayner's hips began to jerk in time with his movements, then he gave an upward spasm and stayed locked in that position before he emptied himself, falling limp after a few moments.

The two of them both panting – though Hayner a little faster – Seifer removed his shirt and crawled up, lifting Hayner awkwardly and moving the covers over them both and allowing the blonde to curl up against his chest. Licking his lips clean, Seifer planted a slow, calm kiss on Hayner's forehead, and then the two fell in a warm, deep sleep.

The light was coming in too brightly, but it was too… opaque. Hayner groaned and rolled over, the nights past events playing back behind his eyelids. He remembered Seifer's tongue, the hard, well defined abdominal muscles of the older man's chest, the gentle touch of lips on his forehead. Yawning and exhaling, he stretched out and turned to face Seifer, opening his eyes and finding the other side of the bed empty. Empty, that is, except for a sheet of paper, folded neatly into thirds. Making sure to keep himself covered, Hayner sat up and pulled the note over, unfolded it, and read the uneven chicken scratch.

"Hayner,

I'll admit I was sorry to leave you. I'm sorry for last night, too. Your clothing is folded and lying on the top of the dresser, there's cereal in the cabinet. I'm not going to take away your key, or tell you to never come back… I can't, knowing what I do now. My cell number is on the bottom of this note; call if you need anything.

Seifer Almasy"

EndNotes:

Oh, my god. You guys have no idea how long this took me. Well, maybe you do… But, I mean, it took me upwards of one hour to write simply a paragraph. It was really hard to get out the ideas right, and I'm sure some of you will still read something and not have any idea what I was trying to say. I tried to keep this tasteful… I know, I know, too much foreplay… but I just felt like I'd drawn it out enough and… well it was really awkward. Overall, my favorite chapter yet. Hopefully it's what you guy wanted.

Oh, and btw... Does anyone know a good song to listen to while writing BL scenes?