Chapter 6 - Tropic of Cactuar

Zell was lying in his bed replaying the scene from earlier that day. The way Van was so casual about Zell finding someone else. The way he so carelessly told him, to his fucking face, that he was going home soon as he could. As if he didn't even care.

Zell had stormed out of the Cafeteria around that point. Fuck him. If that's the way Van felt, then why the fuck should he give a shit?

"Why the fuck should you give a shit anyways? You're straight remember?" a little voice echoed in his head.

Oh yeah...he forgot about that.

The sudden realization of his heterosexuality did make his actions seem a bit silly.

Zell brought his hands up to his forehead, as though trying to keep his thoughts from spilling out into the air. This shit was so fucked up.

Then there was a knock at his door.

He had left Martha standing in the lineup when he stormed out and she had come by his room 12 times since. And she had texted him 29 times...and called him 51 times.

In accordance with his previous actions, he ignored it, waiting for her to go away.

"C'mon, darlin'. Open the door. I know yer in there," came a drawling voice.

Irvine? He was back from his mission?

Zell got off the bed, and walked over to the door and thumbed the Open button on the keypad. The door slid open and the cowboy grinned at him.

"Hey, man, what's up?" Zell asked, hoping he sounded casual.

The cowboy walked in, still grinning at him.

"So, what's this all about with Van?"

Fuck. Selphie must have filled him in. Why couldn't they be like every other ex-couple and never speak to each other again?

"Man, I dunno what you're talking about. There's nothing happening with me and Van."

Irvine stared at Zell.

"Why are you staring at me like that? Dude, I'm straight. Everyone knows this. Why is it all of a sudden everyone thinks I've changed?" demanded Zell, a little more defensively than he intended.

"Why are you frontin'?"

"I'm not fucking fronting, dude. I like women; I always have and that isn't about to change." Zell snapped.

"He thinks you're a faggot," that little voice said. Well, Zell would just have to correct that line of logic.

"Alright, man. If you say so. I just wanted to make sure before..." the cowboy trailed off.

"Before what?" asked Zell.

"Well, before I make a move. I didn't get a chance to earlier since Squall sent me out. And then I thought you and him were...but, since yer not, he's fair game."

Zell's stomach churned and he could taste bile in the back of his throat. He forced his voice to remain steady. "Good luck, bro. He told Selphie he ain't interested in anyone from this world since he was leaving them behind."

Irvine grinned mischievously. "I didn't say nothin' 'bout datin'. I was just gonna ask him if he wanted to share my bed, is all."

It was like Zell's entire body was working together to fight him. Zell's mind was screaming protests. It was showing Zell, in desperation, images of things that the cowboy wanted to do. "See? Is this what you want?" His stomach was threatening to empty out it's contents to rat him out so Irvine would know and would stay away from Van. And that little voice that was so helpful in reminding Zell of him being straight was Zell's only support. However, when it tried to come to Zell's rescue, his heart began to beat so loud that it drowned out what the voice was trying to say.

"You okay, Zell?" Irvine asked, with a fake look concern in his eyes.

"I...I don't think...Van is that type...that type of guy..." Zell stammered, giving one last effort to dissuade the sex machine he knew his friend to be.

"Heh heh, well, let's just see if'n I can't change that about him." Irvine smirked. "You've seen how persuasive I can be. I'll bet by the end of tonight, that kid'll be beggin' me to fu-"

Zell snapped. He grabbed the cowboy and smashed him into the wall so hard he felt it give way. "You stay the fuck away from him. If you so much as wink in his direction, I'll fucking pound you to a bloody pulp."

Rather than retaliate, Irvine just dropped the charade altogether. "Good, 'cause if you weren't willing to defend yer boyfriend from some other dude's advances, I'd have kicked yer ass."

"He is NOT my boyfriend!" Zell let go of Irvine's shoulders. Why was everyone so insistent?

"Whatever, man. FIgure it out yerself then, if you know everything." Irvine slammed his shoulder into Zell's as he stormed pass. When he got to the door, he stopped for a second, looked halfway back over his shoulder and said, "Seifer was right. You are a Chickenwuss."

The door slid closed behind him as he walked out.

Zell slid down the wall he was leaning on and closed his eyes. His entire body had stopped fighting him and had fallen oddly silent. As though waiting for his next move.

"Don't listen to him. So, what he thinks you're a Chickenwuss. At least you're not a faggot," the little voice said, now that his heart had settled into a breath holding silence.

"...why does that bother you so much...?" whispered a second little voice, even smaller then the first.

"Because, I'm a man. A real man. I want people to think I'm tough and can handle myself," Zell answered.

"But, you are a man. Anyone looking at you can tell that. And how does being in love make you weak...?" whispered the little voice again, a bit stronger this time.

"Well, it doesn't. But, I can't be in love with a guy. That's just gay. I want to be straight. I want to be strong."

"Then be strong. Don't let what people think of you get in the way of making yourself happy." said the little voice, no longer whispering.

"I, I can't do that!" Zell tried to argue.

"You're lying. You can. You're just making excuses. What's the real reason?" said the little voice, loudly this time.

"I just...don't want to be..."

"Want to be what! Close to someone! In love! Happy!" the little voice yelled.

"...a chickenwuss."

Zell's mirror flew off the wall, landing right in front of him and shattered into a thousand pieces. Zell's eyes flew open, and he saw his reflections all staring back at him from the multitude of shards. Each and every one looking back at him like they were disgusted. Like they couldn't believe this was the man they had to be fashioned after. He felt like he was in a courtroom, under the discriminating gazes of the jury while he tried to defend himself.

Only this time...he was his own jury.

And for the first time in his 18 years, Zell hated what he saw when he looked into all those reflections.

"Didn't you hear Irvine? That's all you are," said the little voice.

"So what you're a Chickenwuss? At least you're not a fagg-" the first little voice started, trying to cut in.

"Shut up!" Zell snapped out loud.

As if right on cue, his body kicked into gear. His mind started showing him the way he needed to go to get to Van's room. His stomach sealed itself up in preperation for the fastest run of Zell's life as it prodded his lungs into motion. His heart started pumping harder to get the adrenaline that would make him faster through his body.

Zell jumped to his feet in one swift motion and hit the ground running.

He might be his own jury, but like hell he was going to be his own fucking executioner.

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Van dragged the brush through his endless hair as he counted.

"997, 998, 999, 1000. Whew. Finally done," he hummed.

He got up to pull the sheets back from his bed before climbing in. It was at that exact moment there was a knock at the door.

A knock may have been a slight understatement as the heavy metal sliding door damn near came off it's track.

Van almost jumped a foot. "Wh-what the...?"

He walked over to the door and hit the Open button on his keypad. The door barely had time to open before Zell came into the room.

"Zell! You scared me half to-"

That was all he managed to get out.

Zell put both hands around Van's face and kissed him...hard. He crushed his mouth into Van's not giving the Saint time to react.

Zell always thought that he would know if he was meant to be with someone by the first kiss. It was supposed to send electric currents through his body. It was supposed to feel like fire and ice burning his lips. It was supposed to feel like the earth was shaking beneath his feet.

Zell was wrong. This kiss is how it's supposed to feel.

This kiss felt like the sky had split open in the middle of a rainstorm and sent beams of sunlight down onto him. He felt a warmth spread through his body, not dazzling like electric currents, but peaceful like a sunlit day. His lips weren't burning but felt like he was drinking a mixture of sugar and rainwater. And he couldn't believe he ever compared the earth shaking to this. He felt like he was falling through the Tropic of Cactuar and into Pheonix's Aura, those mystical lights that appear in the northern sky. He felt himself surrounded by a dizzying display of stars; dancing like diamonds and threatening to carry him away; to never let him go. The only shaking was his knees, as the stars' breathless height stole away the oxygen from his brain, giving him vertigo.

Van's hands, which had remained paralyzed down by his side until now, started to move up, rubbing across Zell's abs and making him shudder. They kept coming upward reaching his chest where they flattened against Zell's pecs...and started pushing him away.

Zell broke the kiss and looked into Van's eyes. Eyes which told him the last thing he wanted to hear. Eyes which told him Van didn't feel the same way about the kiss.

"Zell, I...I'm sorry...I can't-"

Zell didn't wait for him to finish. As quickly as he came into the room he was gone. He ran down the hallway, half blinded by his own stupid tears. He reached up to wipe them angrily as he reached his door so he could see the keypad enough to thumb in his code. The door slid open and Zell burst into the room where he started pacing. His mind whirring with images and scenes of what had happened, what could have happened and what didn't happen. He glanced over and noticed that the mirror was back on the wall, in one piece, where it had been all along.

Zell grabbed it and threw it against the door as hard as he could, making sure that this time, like his heart, it really would lay in a thousand pieces. Leaving the mess where it was, he reached over and jerked his desk drawer open so hard it snapped right off it's wheels. He grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, letting the drawer fall to the floor, and began to write.

When he was finished he dropped onto his bed and sat with his head in his hands, trying to catch his breath, and trying even harder not to cry.

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Van didn't move for a long time. It was like Zell's kiss had stolen something from him, but he couldn't place what it was. All he knew is that it was important. He felt like, without this, he couldn't continue living. That he had to have it back.

But, what was it?

After a few minutes (or a few hours; it was impossible to tell), Van ended up giving up with a sigh and going to his bed.

Everything had been going so well. Why did Zell have to fuck it up by doing that? Now things were going to be awkward. Or worse, maybe Zell hated him now. He's deserve it.

But, he'd had to. Zell had to know that he wasn't staying. Zell deserved someone better. Someone who could make him happy. Van couldn't do that!

...could he?

No. He couldn't.

Van laid himself down, under his cool, clean sheets, and closed his eyes. He half expected his bed to make itself deliberately uncomfortable, as punishment for doing that to Zell, but it was as cozy as ever.

He had to get out of here, fast. Before he could hurt anyone else.

Van yawned and thought one last time of Zell and that hurt look he had given him when he pushed him off, and then fell asleep.

That night he dreamt of stars.