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Chapter 37
Across the Stars

"It's so noisy... all the time."

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I close my eyes to no avail

Three days of aching sleepless

I wish these sheets would suffocate me while I wait

I love the cuts that make the lines

Arranged in beautiful designs

I fight with the sharp side of a razor blade

It's not right I can't escape the choice I made.

"The Enemy Inside" – Egypt Central

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Seifer Almasy had always believed that it was better to ask for forgiveness than for permission. Throughout the past decade, he had lived his life in that manner – often lying, cheating or exercising his disproportionate strength on others for pastime's sake, burning many bridges along the way and really never asking for forgiveness at all. He would simply prepare for the consequences of getting caught red-handed and face them with a smile, believing that his parents' righteous anger – in all its violent, pretentious, satisfying glory – made any punishment worthwhile.

Needless to say, things had inevitably come to change since Seifer had made the acquaintance of one fascinatingly selfless, loyal, well-mannered Squall Leonhart. Whether the obstinate blond had changed his ways by his own free will or not remained debatable, but the transformation of the only son of the Almasy family had become obvious to anyone who knew him reasonably well. Seifer's rebellious nature, of course, remained practically untouched, but he had learned to be more considerate and respectful towards others, displaying a moral fortitude that - on the surface - seemed quite unlike him.

His grandmother, nevertheless, hadn't seemed too terribly surprised when Seifer had called her and asked her permission to stay at the beach house in Dollet with his boyfriend. She had wanted to spend some more quality time with her grandson and his attention-grabbing love interest, of course, but she knew fully well that the blond was flighty and easily distracted. On top of all this, Seifer had hinted to her that his companion, Squall, needed a break from his usual, stressful environment. Considering the brunette boy's traumatized appearance at her bedside only hours before, Belle completely understood her grandson's motivations and found them to be rather honorable, in fact. Therefore, she had shown no qualms over allowing the two teenagers to stay at the cottage for a few days' worth of a getaway.

Seifer's mother, however, hadn't been quite so accommodating.

The first time she had called him on the phone, Seifer had answered, but his patience with his mother had run thin after about two solid minutes of being screamed at. Truthfully, he hadn't felt bad at all when he hung up on her, nor when he ignored the twelve phone calls that followed and went straight to voicemail. Ideally, he would have liked to have kept Squall oblivious to his constant, pathetic family drama, but the brunette sat with him through it all, watching him with disapproving eyes and not saying a word as they were steadily making their way to Dollet.

Of course, Seifer had also never been one to sit in silence for very long.

"So... you've really never been to Dollet before?" Seifer eventually asked his dark haired classmate casually as they were driving down the small beachside road that led to his grandparents' cottage. The sky was a brilliant, crystal clear shade of blue as it stretched above them, and there wasn't a single snowflake in sight, although temperatures outside had definitely reached the low point of the season. Squall was studying the picturesque scenery from the passenger seat of the blond's truck, and he jerked his left shoulder in a shrug in response to Seifer's question.

"No."

"Why not?" the blond inquired curiously. "This is a pretty famous tourist dump, after all, and it sounds like you've traveled quite a bit. Do your parents not like Dollet, or what's goin' on here?"

"... My stepfather has a beach house in Fisherman's Horizon, and another one in Esthar. He always took us there for the summer, or to Trabia for winter vacation. I guess there was never a reason to come here," Squall explained in a quiet monotone without meeting his friend's eyes. He had rolled his window down and his freshly washed hair was moving softly in the breeze. Although Squall looked remarkably better than he had the previous day, considering he'd taken a shower and his clothes had been laundered, he also seemed unusually distracted and preoccupied. Honestly, Seifer wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

"You know, you never talk about your stepfather like he's actually part of your family," Seifer pointed out as he was tapping the steering wheel with his thumbs in an off-beat rhythm to the song that was playing somewhere in the background on the radio. "It always kinda sounds like he's just some dude you guys live with."

Squall snapped his head around to him momentarily, the sole purpose of his willful eye contact to pierce Seifer with a look of loathing, before he abruptly faced the passenger window once more.

"... I told you I don't wanna talk about this," Squall bit with an irritable snarl.

"I was just making an observation," the blond responded calmly, the pitch of his voice free of confrontation. "That's all."

Squall wanted to tell Seifer to make his uncalled-for observations elsewhere, but decided against it. The morning had already been filled with nothing but arguments, although most of them had taken place between Seifer and his upset parent. Deep down, Squall couldn't help but feel at least partially responsible for Seifer's volatile disagreement with his mother, as well as the fact that they had left Balamb before Belle's return to her residence. Honestly, Squall had enjoyed the company of the sweet, elderly woman – as much as he was able to enjoy the company of a complete stranger, anyway. Somehow, nothing seemed to have gone according to plan since they had arrived in Balamb – not that Squall had ever had a plan to begin with. There was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he was doing something wrong, like an itch that he couldn't reach, and it was gradually driving him up the wall.

Seifer, of course, was at least partly aware of his friend's chaotic mental state, and he was determined to figure out the reason for Squall's persistent moodiness this morning.

"Hey. What are you thinking about?"

The brunette merely rolled his eyes this time, instead of honoring Seifer with a proper look. Snorting, he clipped with obvious attitude, "Did you seriously just ask me that?"

"Why, is that some kind of problem, your lordship?" Seifer retorted in a tone he would adapt when trying to get a rise out of his companion, while quizzically raising one brow.

"Funny you'd ask," Squall snapped, now crossing his arms in front of his chest and pressing his lips to a harsh line as he gave Seifer a sideways glare. "Yeah, in fact, it is a fucking problem."

"And why's that, cupcake?"

"Fuck, shut up and quit calling me stupid names already!" Squall shot back acidly as he slammed his right fist against his passenger door with a deafening thud. "You're going on my last fucking nerve! I'm about sick of listening to you, alright!"

Heaving a loud sigh, Seifer shook his head. He was no stranger to Squall's bouts of bitchiness and the fact that the boy apparently had a permanently-lit fuse, but at the moment, he was really in no mood to deal with the brunette's abrasive attitude. Of course, he understood that Squall was on edge; the boy was in a strange environment, he was worried about his family and school, and he'd just taken a major beating by three of his senior classmates. Nevertheless, he wasn't going to allow the younger male to bathe in his own self-loathing and let his impulsive anger out on everyone around him who didn't deserve it.

'I'm not the one that tried to gangbang you. I came to help you, remember? Don't let this fuck fest in your head out on me.'

Instead of saying what was really on his mind, however, Seifer took a deep, calming breath and suggested off-handedly, "Hey, Squall. Let's go downtown before we go to the cottage. I wanna pick up some food and drinks. There's also some museums and stuff there, in case you're into that sorta thing."

Looking skeptical over the blond's sudden loss of interest over his innermost thoughts, and the fact that he had addressed him by his proper first name, Squall replied, "What? Museums? Here?"

"Yeah," the blond nodded, relieved that Squall had lowered his voice to a more civil level. "Dollet isn't just a popular tourist attraction, ya know, it's also famous for being the first town that offered TV broadcasting many years ago. It was a pretty big deal back then. My grandpa took me to one of the museums where they tell you all about it. It's pretty cool, actually. I had a lot of fun when I went. Do you wanna go?"

For the first time in about an hour, Squall faced Seifer without looking as if he wanted to run the blond through with a meat cleaver. His quick temper had already cooled once more, and his expression looked much less sour than it had. Seifer actually noticed a spark of curiosity in the brunette's guarded blue eyes that he liked, and he grinned at the younger boy encouragingly in return.

"Alright," the dark haired teen eventually agreed, after a seemingly obligatory period of hesitation. "Why not."

"Sweet," Seifer whistled appreciatively. "Let's do it!"

And thus, Seifer and Squall spent the greater part of the day in the central district of Dollet, checking out museums, various tourist shops, a famous hotel and the busy boardwalk by the ocean. Fortunately, Squall's bad mood improved quite noticeably, and Seifer was pleased to see the brunette actually enjoying himself for once. They grabbed a few slices of pizza for lunch at a local pub and even had some ice cream for dessert, but by the end of the day, Seifer made it a point to stop by the local grocery store to pick up a few items for a relaxed dinner at home. After some bickering back and forth, they settled on spaghetti with a cream-based tomato sauce (from the jar, of course, since neither of them was a particularly skilled cook), and Seifer also didn't miss the opportunity to grab a couple bottles of relatively expensive Bordeaux wine. By the time they were finally pulling into the driveway of the cottage, it was well past six o'clock and getting dark out.

"Well, here we are, princess. Home sweet home away from home," Seifer announced happily as they both climbed out of the truck, feeling ravenous and tired from walking circles all over Dollet. The blond grabbed their grocery bags, as well as the rucksack with spare clothing and laundry detergent he had brought from home. Of course, Squall had no clothes with him aside from the ones he was wearing on his body, but Seifer had selected a few suitable items for him out of his own closet, since the brunette had refused to allow him to take him shopping. Currently, Squall was wearing one of his thin, dark grey colored hoodies – the smallest one Seifer had been able to find. Naturally, it still looked slightly too big on the smaller-framed brunette, but at least it was worlds better than the scrub top he'd been prancing around in.

Squall, meanwhile, remained motionless in the driveway, staring in awe upon the pale, sandy coast that stretched for miles right behind the idyllic oceanfront home. He could hear the sound of the waves crashing into the dunes, and there wasn't a single human being in sight aside from the two of them. Flocks of seagulls were floating on the currents of the wind, providing a constant source of background noise.

"Do you like it?" Seifer asked as he stopped next to his classmate, his inflection more tender than it usually would be.

The brunette nodded, but seemed too taken aback to say much else in response. They approached the cottage that was constructed out of flagstone, wood and mortar; it wasn't huge as far as houses were concerned, but Squall immediately felt a sense of peace and stillness wash over him the moment he set foot through the front door, followed closely by his friend.

Once inside, Squall tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling as he walked around, gazing upon beautiful, rustic looking wooden beams and artfully crafted stone work. There was a fireplace in the small living-room, a country style kitchen made out of white wood and rum-colored granite, and a back porch that led straight out onto the beach. He could hear numerous wind chimes swaying in the brisk ocean breeze outside, and with an awestruck expression, he noticed the last dying rays of the sun breaking through the polished glass windows, burning up the sky as it turned from red to black.

'This is... beautiful.'

Through all the years and all the different places Squall had lived in and visited, he had never felt as much at home as he did in that tiny, breathtaking cottage by the sea, which didn't even belong to him or his family. Of course, that sweet, somewhat confusing feeling of tranquility he experienced also came with a touch of bitterness, just as any other happy moment he'd ever had the pleasure to enjoy; Squall remembered his parents' wedding at the beach house in Esthar only too well, and yet the image seemed distant now as he stood there bathed in light, almost as if his mind was trying to replace the painful memories with ones that were much more pleasant in nature.

'Maybe that's what I need to do. I need to find... better things to fill my head with. Things that... have nothing to do with Kato.'

"I'd say we watch the sunset, but it looks like we came a little late for that. We can head out there later though and have a bonfire. That's what I bought the marshmallows for," Seifer announced randomly as he strode into the kitchen and spread their groceries on the counter of a small cooking island. He noticed that Squall remained rooted to his position in the middle of the room, gazing out into the quickly approaching darkness with a vacant expression, like his thoughts were in a completely different place.

"Hey," the blond asked, speaking more loudly this time in order to attract Squall's attention. "You alright, cupcake?"

Visibly snapping out of it, Squall jerked on the spot and turned around, his eyes wider than normal as they met Seifer' expectant face.

"What?" he said in a dazed tone of voice, before the older teen's question finally seemed to sink in. "Oh. Yeah. I'm fine."

Clearing his throat, Squall walked up to the kitchen island and rested his elbows upon the counter, examining their dinner supplies.

"You ready for some food?" Seifer asked with an inquisitive smile.

"Yeah," the brunette nodded, prodding the package of pasta they had bought with his index finger. "I'm starving."

"Well, you wanna throw the salad and the dressing in a bowl while I start cooking the pasta and the sauce?"

"Sure," Squall agreed, and suddenly, Seifer noticed a playful twitch by the corner of his lips. "Just don't fuck up our food, or I'll kill you."

"Wouldn't dream of it, your evil lordshipness," the blond laughed, before he suddenly slapped his right hand down on the counter. "Oh, hey! Almost forgot."

Looking curious, Squall watched him retrieving two juice glasses and plates from a nearby hutch, before proceeding to uncork one of the wine bottles he had bought at the store. With an unsure and critical expression, the brunette gazed upon Seifer as he was pouring wine into both of the glasses, consequently sliding one across the counter towards him.

"There you go," Seifer said blithely, already taking the first sip of his own drink. "Bottoms up."

"I can't drink that," Squall instantly replied with a scowl, his eyes fixated upon the swirling, dark red liquid.

"Why not?"

The blond's dumbfounded expression annoyed Squall; honestly, could Seifer be that fucking dim?

"Because I'm underage, idiot," he shot back pragmatically, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he assumed his typical, defensive posture.

"Oh, don't I know it, you little piece of jailbait, you," the blond snorted teasingly, obviously highly amused over his friend's serious response. "Come on, you're seventeen years old. You're not a kid anymore. Live a little. It's not gonna kill ya, I promise."

Of course, the dark haired teen continued to look hesitant, and finally, his head streaked aside and he admitted in a flat tone of voice that was colored by a hint of embarrassment, "I've never had alcohol before."

"Really? Well..." Seifer lilted huskily as he licked a drop of wine off his lips and gave Squall a long, sideways look, "First time for everything, sweetheart. Alcohol included."

Growling, Squall snapped, "Don't fuck with me, asshole."

"Squall," the eighteen year old addressed his friend calmly now, all mockery suddenly bleached from his voice as he lowered his glass and looked the dark haired teen straight in the eye, ignoring the helplessness he found there. "It's just you and me here. Nothing bad is going to happen just because you have a couple glasses of wine. We're not out at some dive bar. You're safe here, and I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about. You can trust me. I promise."

The brunette was chewing on his bottom lip, clearly looking conflicted over the blond's proposition, but just as Seifer was about to tell him to forget about it, Squall finally grunted, "Fine. Whatever."

With the look of someone who was about to attend his own funeral, Squall grabbed the glass of Bordeaux off the table and took a few hasty sips, almost as if he was afraid he was going to change his mind. Seifer couldn't help but chuckle when the brunette's expression soured the moment the wine hit his palate, and he had to admit that it was a rather adorable sight to see Squall fighting to keep a straight face.

"Soo," Seifer sang, obviously biting back a laugh. "How is it?"

Squall let out a few aborted coughs, before choking out a breathless "awesome" as he quickly forced down another few gulps.

"Right," the blond snickered. "Whatever you say, cupcake."

"F-fuck you."

"You know... you really shouldn't drink it that fast," Seifer advised with a grin when he ruffled Squall's hair affectionately as he passed him on his way to the fridge. "It's alcohol. It'll get to ya before you know it."

"Th-thanks, Captain Obvious, " the younger boy coughed with a wry grimace, naturally not wanting to be treated like a child. He would have never admitted it, but Seifer's teasing about his age and inexperience had bothered him. Obviously, he knew that most kids at his school had been sneaking drinks for years, and Seifer himself seemed quite skilled at holding his liquor, but drinking wasn't something the brunette had ever been interested in. On top of that, he was very aware of the fact that most people weren't in full control of what they were saying and doing once they were drunk – not that he was ever planning on going that far. Still, the consumption of alcohol struck him as an inevitable part of the process of growing up, and if anything was going to hold him back from being considered an adult, it most certainly wasn't going to be a stupid bottle of wine.

So they drank and cooked and bantered, and by the time dinner was sitting half-eaten in front of them on the table, Squall had polished off almost three tall glasses of wine – and by all things holy, it was showing. Seifer noticed with great interest that the brunette was being entirely more animated and a whole lot louder than he normally would be. Although getting Squall wasted had never been part of the plan, he figured that the brunette had only himself to blame for chugging wine like it was goddamn tap water.

'What the hell is he thinking? He's never had a drop of alcohol before. He should know better. Considering what a little control freak he normally is, this is a bit of a shocker.'

They sat across from each other, with Squall nursing his third glass of wine, rambling about UFOs and why monkeys were supposedly smarter than astronauts. Honestly, Seifer had no idea how Squall had ventured into that peculiar topic of conversation, nor did he really care. The blond was simply perched on his chair, his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he picked at his food and watched Squall throwing his hands around with a cute flush blossoming on his cheeks. For some reason, the untypical redness of Squall's skin made the indigo stain of the bruise below his left eye seem more pronounced, and despite his generally wonderful mood, Seifer couldn't help but scowl at the sight.

"Squall," the concerned blond interrupted his talkative, buzzing friend, "How's your face feeling?"

"My face?" Squall bellowed, throwing his fist down on the table hard enough to cause their plates to bounce on the wooden surface and Seifer to cock a surprised brow. "My face is fantastic!"

Snorting, the blond retorted in an obviously flirtatious manner, "You're damn right it is."

"Your face is pretty fucking fantastic, too!" Squall declared loudly, seated a bit lopsided in his chair now as he leaned across the table and pointed his fork demonstratively at Seifer's head.

"Oh, yeah? You saying I'm hot or somethin'?" the blond asked with a self-satisfied smirk, fully aware that he was taking advantage of Squall's intoxicated state, and yet not feeling too entirely guilty about it. After all, if anything, he figured that the alcohol had probably just loosened the boy's tongue a little. Nevertheless, at this very point in time, he still wasn't one hundred percent sure whether he should really reap the full benefits of that situation.

"Hot? Of course you're hot. Everyone thinks you're hot. My fork thinks you're hot. Fucking shit. Fuck. You're really hot."

Seifer couldn't help but laugh heartily at the boy's ridiculous compliment. Tilting his head, he replied with an appreciative purr, "Well, thanks and all, but look who's talking here. You're all kinds of fucking hot, Squall."

"Hot? Me? Hah. I'm not hot. Your face is hot," the brunette giggled cheerfully, and Seifer could suddenly feel his heart flipping back and forth in his chest when he studied his exquisite looking companion from across the table. The dark haired teen was sitting there with his head inclined slightly, eyes shining with tears of laughter, hair falling in chunks into his face, lips stained blood red from his drink. There wasn't a thing about him that didn't scream hotness.

'Jesus Christ.'

Closing his eyes, Seifer let out a long breath and attempted to dig up whatever reason he had left within him. He knew that this wasn't the time to be getting a hard-on and consider throwing his friend against the nearest wall and start ripping off his clothes, but then again, it also sounded like the best idea that had crossed his mind in a good long while.

"You know," his companion's lilting voice suddenly cut into his calculated efforts of keeping his libido in check, "I don't know what the fuck you see in me. I really don't. It doesn't make any sense. You're... you're handsome, and cool, and you have muscles, and I'm not like you at all, and I'm really, really fucked up. Holy shit. I'm so fucking fucked up. ... Fuck. I'm drunk."

Then, Seifer heard a loud thud, and he instinctively jumped to his feet while his eyelids flung open. Somehow, Squall had managed to fall sideways off his chair and landed face-first on the floor. However, before Seifer even had a chance to dart around the table and help Squall up, the brunette was already back in a standing position, holding on to the table with one hand and pointing one finger at the blond very authoritatively.

"You didn't see that."

Turning his gaze towards the ceiling in silent plea, Seifer simply groaned, "Sure. I didn't see anything, Squall. Not a thing. Now, how about you go have a seat on the couch or something?"

"Fantastic idea!"

Once more, Seifer was astounded by the younger teen's drunk enthusiasm as he went straight for the couch and plopped down into the cushions, his fork still clutched firmly in his right hand. As he watched Squall flailing the cutlery through the air as if he was brandishing some kind of weapon, the boy's words from only seconds before suddenly cut back into his awareness.

"Hey, Squall," Seifer started as he, too, made his way to the couch and stopped beside it, leaning over the back to eye his friend, who had laid down now and was hanging halfway off the furniture. "What do you mean, you're really fucked up?"

"In here," Squall declared without deliberation, eagerly poking his left forefinger into his own temple. "Things aren't right up in there."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I am fucked in the head is what I mean by that!" Squall shouted brazenly, before his face changed and he announced in a slurred, breathless voice, "You're really hot, you know?"

"Squall, why do you think you're fucked in the head?" Seifer asked seriously, ignoring the brunette's drunken antics.

"Ha!" the dark haired boy snorted as he suddenly bolted upright into a seating position and flung the fork he had been clutching halfway across the room. "There isn't enough booze in this house to make me tell you that!"

Raising his eyebrows, Seifer watched how Squall jumped to his feet once more and made a beeline for his wine glass, which he had left sitting on the dining table. He was still surprisingly steady on his feet, or perhaps he was just that determined to pounce on the Bordeaux and get a bit more sloshed. Either way, Seifer realized that it was time to put a lid on Squall's newly discovered liking for booze, before he would turn from a silly, animated drunk into an angry one.

'Knowing him, it's kind of a surprise he's been in this much of a good mood. I kinda figured he'd start bawling or throwing things or something... something more destructive than his fork, anyway. I mean, fuck, you never know with him.'

Not looking one bit pissed off at all, in fact, Squall was leaning onto the table now, his weight supported on one leg as he stood there, raising his half-empty glass to his lips once more. Before he had a chance to give his steadily rising blood alcohol level another boost, however, Seifer had stepped up to him and gently took the glass from the brunette's unsuspecting hand.

"I think you've had enough," the blond informed him evenly, his face radiating kindness as he gave Squall a long, intense long. Then, he turned away and proceeded to carry both of their glasses to the sink and dumped their contents down the drain. To his amusement, Squall only honored him with a disappointed grunt before he ambled back to the couch and belly flopped into the cushions, burying his face in one of the pillows.

"You alright there, killer?" Seifer inquired in a smooth, lighthearted tone of voice after he had followed Squall to the sofa once more and squatted down next to him on the floor, studying the brunette with a grin. Squall's shirt was riding halfway up his back and his feet were dangling off the end of the couch as he was groaning into his pillow.

"... Hey. You have a really nice ass, you know that?" the blond suddenly mused playfully as he roved the shallow dip of Squall's lower back and the tantalizing curve of his butt with an appreciative gaze. The brunette accredited his compliment with a series of muffled noises, before he finally shifted around in his position and turned his face slightly towards his classmate.

"No. My ass is dirty," he mumbled, a hiss of air escaping from his slightly parted lips as he rested his head in the crook of his own elbow. His hair was disheveled and stuck to his flushed skin now, and his eyes looked glassier than they had, harboring a disoriented sort of shadow. He looked vulnerable as he laid there, reciprocating his older friend's probing look.

"Not any dirtier than mine or anyone else's," Seifer acknowledged with a subtle shrug, before he reached out and carefully brushed a few tendrils of hair out of Squall's face, wondering why the brunette seemed concerned about this, yet not being particularly surprised. The boy smelled of wine and tomato sauce, and he seemed more self-aware and emotional than he had in a while. Seifer enjoyed seeing that honest, unguarded side of Squall, and yet, he felt regret over the fact that the brunette was only exposing himself like this because he'd been drinking.

"Yes, it is," Squall insisted.

Puzzled by that statement, Seifer froze in his movement and asked, "Why would you think that?"

Squall continued to stare at him from his awkward position for several moments, seemingly questioning whether he should reward Seifer with an answer or not. Finally, he rolled his eyes and murmured in a coarse, semi-growling tone, "... So, what happens now? You take advantage of me or something?"

Of course, the blond hadn't expected that kind of retort, so he blinked at the brunette in surprise, before quickly catching himself. As a small, humored smile lit up his face, he said patiently, "No. I'm taking your drunk ass to bed."

"I'm not drunk."

"Sure you're not," the blond agreed, pouring on the sarcasm, knowing full well that Squall was too inebriated to pick up on it. "Alright, princess. Let's get you up."

"But I'm not tired," Squall attempted to argue childishly while Seifer had already grabbed his forearm and pulled him to his feet. They paused for a moment, standing less than a breath apart from each other, and Seifer could feel the heat that was emanating from Squall's body. Almost gingerly, he placed one hand on the brunette's left hip, feeling it swaying slightly beneath his touch. The brunette looked almost ethereal as he stood there, scars and bruises and all, and by god, he was the most beautiful thing the blond had ever seen.

"I really hope you remember this when you wake up in the morning," Seifer whispered as he gently pressed a kiss to Squall's damp forehead, "Because I'll be damned if I'm holding back for no reason here."

Squall was staring up at him with an adorable air of confusion, obviously not understanding, and he rubbed the tip of his nose with his index finger as he screwed up his face. He had removed his bandages before his shower this morning and never bothered to replace them, because he obviously didn't care enough to put forth the effort. Seifer was tracing the scabbing cuts and ink blue shadows that marred the boy's porcelain skin with a glint in his eyes, before he sighed.

"Come on, you lush," the eighteen year old teased lovingly as he gave Squall a gentle shove towards the bedroom. "This way."

He steered the somewhat struggling brunette through the living-room and the kitchen to one of the two bedrooms, which contained a beautiful queen sized bed constructed from a type of lumber that vaguely resembled drift wood. His grandmother had covered it in a neat heap of starch white sheets, fluffed up pillows and thick blankets that were incredibly soft to the touch. Squall let out a tiny sound of delight as he fell backwards into the mattress, stretching his arms and legs like some lazy feline. Snorting, Seifer proceeded to take off the brunette's boots, which he threw on the floor with a thud. Squall was simply lying in the covers, gazing up at him out of half-lidded eyes while Seifer motioned towards his chest.

"Take off your sweater and your pants. You'll get hot," the blond ordered, before he spent the next five minutes or so watching the brunette trying to struggle free from the tricky confinement of his clothes. Just as Seifer was about to fix himself a bowl of popcorn and continue to enjoy the show, Squall had finally succeeded in peeling off his pants and pulling his shirt over his own head. His right arm was still caught in the sleeve of his hoodie, but the dark haired boy didn't seem to care. With a content groan, he drug one of the blankets across his own, half-naked body and nestled his head in one of the pillows.

"Hopeless, I swear," Seifer sighed as he yanked the shirt off Squall's arm and tossed it across the foot of the bed, along with his khakis. Then, he returned to the kitchen to check all the door locks and turn off the lights. He chose to leave the fireplace in the living room lit, knowing that the dancing amber flames surrounding a carefully stacked pile of wood would die down on their own before long.

'It would have been nice to stay up and enjoy the fire a while longer, but I guess this was my fault. I talked him into drinking, after all. Shit, he was fucking hot tonight, though. He's cute as hell when he's buzzed. Man, I wanted to fuck him so bad there for a minute that it's making my damn nuts hurt. Fuck. Ahh, well, whatever. Not like I can really do anything about it. He'd never trust me again if I tried something while he's all wined up. I guess I better hit the hay before I end up getting blue balls here. If nothing else, I guess I can always rub one out.'

Shaking his head, the tall blond finally paced back into the bedroom, only to find his companion completely knocked the fuck out, snoring up a storm as his tangled limbs were splayed across the covers. As he stopped and leaned against the doorway, Seifer scratched his head in astonishment, only to flinch visibly when Squall suddenly let out a particularly deafening snort.

'... You have got to be kidding me.'

Seifer couldn't help but be genuinely amused by the sleeping brunette, who had stubbornly claimed that he wasn't tired less than five minutes ago. Chortling, Seifer rid himself of his own clothes, save for his boxer shorts, and climbed into bed with his adorably obnoxious love interest. It took him a few moments to arrange Squall to his liking, since the brunette was pretty much a dead weight in his comatose state. As Seifer watched the dark haired boy's face after it had come to rest on the left side of his chest, he felt a well of powerful, shapeless emotions bubbling up inside him. He'd always been aware of his fondness for the ill-tempered brunette, but to see him so peaceful that he was literally drooling on Seifer's sharply muscled pecs made the blond's heart burn with affection.

'Man... you really are something else, you know that? Hopefully, you'll at least manage to sleep through the night this time. I mean, with all that wine and all those carbs you have on board, how couldn't you? God knows you could use a good night's rest.'

As he drew Squall more tightly against him, the brunette made a few low, indistinguishable noises in return, before falling silent once more. Seifer continued to stay up, listening to the dark haired teen's breathing and running his hand through Squall's silky, mussed up hair, until he, too, finally surrendered to sleep, not yet knowing that once the sun would rise again in the morning, their lives would no longer be the same.

"NO!"

He woke up screaming, gasping for air, covered in sweat as his lips formed a breathless cry. His heart was racing into his throat, leaving him scared and winded. There was a suffocating feeling of not knowing where he was that closed in around him, and he hugged himself tightly as his face twisted with agony. He'd had the same dream – the same nightmare – that had been torturing him every time he'd dared to close his eyes since Jeff's brutal attack on him. He felt like he was being choked by an invisible pair of hands, and he shuddered as he wrenched his fingers into his own hair. His head was throbbing with the worst headache he had experienced in years, and he didn't understand what was going on – at least not until he allowed his panicked gaze to flit around the room and he ultimately found a soundly sleeping Seifer closely by his right side, moving against him ever so subtly.

'What the...'

Stunned, Squall realized that he was sitting bolt upright in a bed with Seifer... a bed that was located in a room he had never seen before in his life. Only when his eyes searched the walls around him and found a glass porch door that granted him a view of the dark ocean outside did he come to understand that he had been fast asleep in Belle Almasy's Dollet beach house.

'Shit... of course...'

After racking his memory for a few seconds, he finally remembered that he had been eating pasta and drinking wine with Seifer that evening, until the blond had eventually hauled him off to bed. The reminiscence of their dinner together was a bit fuzzy, to be honest, but as he continued to strain his memory, Squall was actually able to recall most of it. He had been in a ridiculously good mood that night, blurting out whatever had come to his inebriated mind, his mental filter clearly out of commission due to the alcohol that his body wasn't accustomed to.

'Fuck. What the hell was I thinking? I don't think I said anything too stupid, but that was a dumb and dangerous thing to do. I should have never drank that much. Shit. Fuck, my head hurts. Son of a bitch.'

Groaning, Squall leaned against the headboard of the bed and massaged the bridge of his nose with his hand. As he sat there in the darkness that was only broken by the fine rays of moonlight cutting in through the window, he absently traced his gaze across Seifer's half-uncovered form. The blond seemed completely dead to the world, and he appeared to be resting peacefully. His broad, naked chest was heaving in a calm, steady rhythm that was only disrupted when Seifer would shift every so often, his muscular arm drifting across the covers as if the blond was searching for something in his slumber. For a brief second, Squall forgot about his splitting headache as he watched his friend sleeping, and he didn't even realize that his formerly tight expression had suddenly become gentle and his eyes glossed over with emotion.

'He... really is a good guy.'

Knowing full well that Seifer had made no attempt at taking physical advantage of him in his intoxicated state, Squall had to admit to himself once more that the blond's intentions truly had to be noble and sincere in nature. Of course, he hadn't honestly expected Seifer to abuse his trust like that, and yet it was comforting to know that his faith in the blond hadn't been misplaced.

'I guess I should have known, huh... Maybe I'm the slow one here, after all.'

Almost hesitantly, the brunette now reached out his hand and brushed his scraped-up knuckles along Seifer's jawline with a touch that was as light and unobtrusive as a feather.

'I'm sorry... for being such an ass this morning. I know none of this is your fault, but I just... can't help it. I don't know what's wrong with me.'

Sighing, Squall drew his legs up to his chest and rested his forehead upon his kneecaps. He was exhausted, but for some reason, he knew that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep tonight. Honestly, he felt like shit, and he was well aware that his little wine binge was at least partly to blame for that. Nevertheless, he also realized that his insomnia was about something far more significant than a few glasses of alcohol; since Jeff's assault, he'd been overwhelmed with memories of Kato's constant abuse, and the less he tried to think about his stepfather raping him, the more powerful the mental images would become, as if they were just festering in the deep, dark crevices of his mind.

'I don't know what to do anymore... I just want to make it stop. I can't keep thinking about this much longer, or I'm going to go fucking insane. I can feel it. I need to do something... I just don't know what.'

Squall raised his chin, silently gluing his gaze to the pale, scarred insides of his wrists. He could feel an echo of a very familiar urge growing within the shadows of his heart, but before it had a chance to truly unfold, Squall sharply shook his head and balled his hands to fists as he pressed them against his shins.

'Get a hold of yourself.'

There were times when Squall wasn't entirely sure whether he was the one who was in control of his body, or whether his body was controlling him. He hadn't necessarily made a conscious decision not to cut himself anymore, and yet he had been denying his skin that urgent need to tear and bleed and be drained of the chaos within him. Squall couldn't have said why he had chosen to leave his wrists untouched lately; perhaps Laguna's knowledge of his cutting habit had made a difference. Perhaps it hadn't. Either way, he felt like he had to regain control. Not just over his body, but his life as well. He couldn't even have said when he had lost said control, or whether he had ever had it to begin with, but he knew that things had to change. He still vividly remembered the last time he had taken a blade to his wrists – or rather, the fact that he didn't remember. The night he had awoken with his own hands covered in blood and his brain wiped of memories had caused him to realize that something inside of him had obviously cracked. He was slowly losing his grip on reality, on everything he had been trying to protect, and he was more scared than he wanted to admit.

'I can't keep going like this. Something needs to happen, before I completely lose my fucking mind.'

He let out a small sound of discomfort, but nothing else, not wanting to disturb his friend's sleep. Calmly, he remained sitting in bed for a while longer, his right cheek folded against his knees as he drowned within the constant noise inside his head. There was a loneliness spreading within him as he sat there that he didn't understand; he knew he wasn't alone, and yet the knowledge that he couldn't share his darkest secrets with anyone, alive or dead, made him feel like the loneliest person in the world.

'... Stop being pathetic.'

Squall straightened up and turned abruptly, overwhelmed by the sudden urge to move and clear his head. As he tried to slide to the edge of the mattress without causing Seifer to wake up, he unexpectedly felt a strong hand closing around his forearm.

"... Hey."

The brunette flinched at the sound of a husky, drawling voice cutting through the silence that enveloped him, uttering that single syllable that stopped him dead in his tracks. Surprised, he veered around and found Seifer wide awake, holding on to his arm with a solemn expression on his face.

"Where are you going?"

There was no confrontation to Seifer's inflection, only a subdued, quiet concern that was barely noticeable. His eyes were bright despite the darkness in the room, and Squall thought that he looked more awake and alert than he should have.

"Just getting up for a bit," the brunette finally explained in a manner that was supposed to sound casual, but even though he kept his voice low, he somehow felt like he was shouting.

"What's wrong?" Seifer asked instinctively, suddenly dragging his thumb across the inside of Squall's arm, which he was still holding on to. The brunette accredited the soothing touch with an odd sort of stare, and ultimately, a sigh.

"Nothing," Squall answered with a quick jerk of his head from side to side, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Don't worry about that," the blond said immediately. He wasn't smiling, and yet Squall thought that his emerald eyes looked kinder and more affectionate than they ever had before. "Can't sleep?"

Squall considered deflecting the question or simply lying to the blond, but something inside of him had inevitably been touched by Seifer's unwavering persistence, and he decided against it.

"... No," he admitted, his face expressionless. "I can't."

The brawny blond gazed up at him for a few moments in response to that honest, unguarded answer. Squall reciprocated the blond's stare with an air of wariness. Subconsciously, he noticed that Seifer's hair – which was normally brushed back in a carefully considered fashion – was mussed up and almost shaggy looking, softening the hard, angular lines of his face. As Squall took in that change in Seifer's edgy appearance with curiosity, he suddenly noticed how a spark of determination came alight in the blond's watchful eyes.

"Put on your clothes. Let's go to the beach."

"What?" Squall shot back incredulously as he arched his brows over Seifer's outlandish suggestion. "The beach? Are you nuts? It's the middle of the night!"

"Your point?" the blond rebutted bluntly, his unimpressed gaze never straying from Squall's skeptical blue eyes.

"But..."

"What? Do you have something more important to do?"

Irritated by the blond's teasing manner of speaking, Squall growled, "Of course not, but—"

"Alright then. Quit putting up a fuss and let's go."

Too stunned to even be pissed off, Squall watched how Seifer let go of his arm and bounced out of bed with a kind of energy that clearly belied his lack of quality sleep as of late. The blond was already hopping into his jeans and jerking a fitted, dark blue sweater over his head while the brunette was still sitting amazed in the middle of the mattress.

"Come on," Seifer ordered enthusiastically as he tossed Squall the pants and shirt that had been resting at the foot of the bed. "Quit dick-dancing around and get dressed. I'll grab us a blanket from the living-room real quick."

He strode out of the room, leaving a confused looking Squall to finally move his feet out onto the floor and hesitantly start working his way into his clothes. The dark haired boy found that his light, grey colored hoodie smelled of hearty Italian food, red wine and Seifer's aftershave – a blend of scents that was much more endearing than anything Squall could remember to ever have experienced before. There was a sudden stillness that overcame him as he stood there, his chin inclined against his chest, simply breathing and listening to the raging chaos inside his head slowly dying down.

'This whole place... I don't know why, but everything seems easier to deal with here. I think I'm just freaking out about nothing. Ugh... shit. I didn't mean to worry him. This is stupid. We should just go back to bed.'

Suddenly feeling silly for brooding in bed until he'd unintentionally managed to wake Seifer up, Squall wanted nothing more than to tell the blond to go back to sleep and pretend that nothing had happened. Thus, the moment the older boy re-entered the room with a blanket tucked under his arm, Squall raised one hand to stop him.

"You really don't have to do this, alright, I'm fine," the brunette declared hastily, shaking his head. "Let's just go back to bed and—"

Seifer, however, had apparently decided that words had become completely meaningless where his brunette lover was concerned, because he shut Squall up quite effectively by grabbing a hold of his collar, yanking him close and pressing a hard kiss onto his lips.

"... Let's go."

Wide eyed and slack jawed, the brunette gazed upon Seifer as he unceremoniously let go of his shirt and took a few steps around him to unlock the porch door. The blond didn't bother to order Squall to follow him outside; instead, he clutched the dark haired boy's hand and drug him along, out onto the porch and into the dunes.

Squall's boots made crunching noises that seemed to drown in the sound of the wind as they were trotting through the sand. The night air was cool and quiet, arched by a sky that was jet black and sprinkled with stars. A nearly full moon illuminated the dune grass that was swept by the sea breeze as they slowly made their way towards the water. The ocean seemed vast and dark as it unfolded before them, moving with the sway of the tides. The brunette continued to follow Seifer's lead as his eyes took in the impressive scenery, and he almost bumped into the blond when he came to an abrupt halt.

"Let's sit right here," Seifer suggested, pointing to a patch of beachfront that was guarded against the currents of the wind by a shallow set of dunes. The ocean was only a few steps away, its waters beating into the earth with a sound that made Squall's spine tingle. In the end, he figured that perhaps this vastness of the world around him and the relative insignificance of his own problems was exactly what he had needed to see tonight. The fact that Seifer seemed to have sensed this made him feel both grateful and terrified, because he was slowly starting to wonder if the blond understood him much better than he had ever imagined.

'He's so close... much closer than anyone I know. I don't think I like it... because I don't want him finding out what's going on, and I don't wanna lie to him all the time... but it's not like I can turn back now. It's too late for that. Maybe it was always too late... because I tried to get rid of him more than just once, and he's still here. I guess he really meant it when he said he's not going anywhere. And at this point... I don't want him to leave.'

So the brunette sat down without a word, stretching his legs before him as he dug his fists into the sand. He didn't complain when Seifer huddled against him, nor when the blond threw the heavy blanket across both of their shoulders. The older boy's larger body felt warm and solid against his own, offering a kind of heat that no blanket in the world would ever measure up to. Squall blinked in surprise when the blond curled one arm around his left thigh, pulling him as close as physics would allow, and he could feel the other boy's breath lingering between them as their faces were suddenly mere inches apart.

"You warm enough?" Seifer asked in a hushed voice, his lips nearly brushing Squall's temple as he turned his head to study his companion. The brunette could feel his heart involuntarily skipping a few beats as he was overtaken by the blond's closeness in an entirely new way.

"Uh... I'm fine," Squall responded with a small, embarrassed stutter to his voice, and the blond could tell that he meant it. Satisfied, he let his gaze drift out towards the sea, and he breathed a small noise of adoration.

"Man, I love it out here," the eighteen year old said. "It's probably my favorite place in the world, and that's saying somethin' right there. I used to go out here a lot at night and watch the stars when I was a kid. It kind of makes you wonder how many there are, and if there's anything at the end of the universe, you know? If there even is an end to it at all."

Squall only nodded in return, unable to find the right words to express just how much he understood Seifer's love of this small, secluded getaway. Curiously, he tilted his head into his neck to stare up at the stars, fascinated by the light they emitted even in the most pitch black of nights.

"Hey, look!" Seifer suddenly exclaimed with a yelp of excitement. "A shooting star!"

Indeed, the brunette managed to catch just the briefest glimpse of a dying asteroid as it seemingly dropped from the sky. Unlike his friend, however, Squall couldn't muster any kind of enthusiasm for the sight. As he watched that sharp glint of bright light rush towards the horizon, he could feel an ache in the center of his chest, and he quickly turned his gaze away. As much as he had been fascinated with the children's book "The Lion and the Shooting Star" that his mother had apparently been given by Laguna at some point or another, he'd never actually enjoyed a shooting star sighting. He considered it something sad and almost tragic, never realizing that his own personality was much too similar to that of a martyr shooting star from a book written for the young and innocent.

"Did ya make a wish?" the blond now asked him curiously, sensing nothing about the aversion stirring inside his friend.

"No," Squall mumbled callously as he ground the heels of his boots deeper into the grains of sand below. "Why would I?"

"Why not? Can't hurt, can it?" Seifer shrugged. "I made a wish."

Cocking a brow at his friend, Squall replied skeptically, "You did?"

"Yup," the blond said with a wide grin as he studied Squall's face. "Did it work?"

"That depends," his dark haired companion answered dryly. "Did you wish that I thought you were an idiot?"

Chuckling, Seifer elbowed his friend into the side for being such a hopeless wisecrack, but to his disapproval, he noticed that there was no humor in Squall's eyes. The brunette appeared tense and distracted, just as he had for the majority of the past two days. Squall seemed to try to pull himself out of his bad mood, but whatever was weighing on his mind was obviously far beyond his conscious control. It hurt Seifer to realize that the brunette was still trying to fool him, despite everything they'd been through. Then again, he figured that perhaps Squall simply wasn't used to sharing the load with someone else, because he'd always dealt with his problems all alone.

'Yeah, there's just one problem with that, princess... you're not alone anymore.'

"... You wanna know what I wish?" Seifer suddenly asked quietly, a trace of melancholy in his inflection. "I wish you would just tell me what's wrong with you."

The gentle way in which Seifer had voiced his words struck something in Squall's psyche, and his features fell momentarily. The blond was simply staring at him, his eyes never straying from Squall's face. Unsure of what to say, the brunette shrugged evasively, but Seifer still noticed him swallowing visibly.

"We've been over this," Squall answered, almost physically trying to sound annoyed. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"Then why do you always sleep like shit?" Seifer pried.

"I couldn't sleep because I had a headache," the dark haired boy explained with an eye-roll. "I'm not used to drinking, that's all. It's not some big fucking mystery or anything."

The seventeen year old wasn't lying, per se, and yet he might as well have been, because the effect remained the same. Seifer gave him a meticulous, stern look, before declaring calmly, "You should really know better than to bullshit me by now. You know I won't stop pestering you 'til you tell me the truth, no matter how long it takes. I know you, Squall. You never sleep well. It wasn't just tonight."

"What do you expect?" Squall hissed back in a tone of annoyance. "I just have a lot on my mind, okay? Some people just don't sleep well. It's not a big deal."

"It's a big deal to me," Seifer declared. "If there's something on your mind that keeps you from getting a good night's sleep, why won't you tell me what it is?"

"Because I don't wanna talk about it, that's why!" the brunette snapped. "Not everything I think about is your business, alright?"

"Well," Seifer sighed, not sounding nearly as exasperate as he felt, "That's honest, I suppose, but I'm afraid that's really not going to cut it anymore. I'm done, Squall. I've had enough, okay? I'm not gonna sit here any longer and pretend that I can't see that something is fucking killing you from the inside out. I can tell, Squall, and I'm not just going to ignore it like everyone else around you."

"Then don't, okay?" Squall offered coldly as his expression became closed and he physically pulled away from Seifer. "Do what you want, I don't give a shit."

"Do what I want? What I want is for you to be happy and have a good time, idiot," the tall blond groaned, grabbing Squall's chin to turn it towards himself. "That's what I want, don't you fucking get that?"

"I am having a good time," Squall insisted, his voice colored by frustration.

"No, you aren't," Seifer denied stubbornly. "You're thinking about stuff."

"I'm always thinking about stuff!" the brunette barked at him aggressively as he slapped Seifer's hand away. His raised voice was hitching in his throat now as his body became incensed with rage that had never truly been directed towards Seifer. "It's called having a brain, you fucking moron! Is that really so hard for you to understand? Why can't you use your brain, for once, and get it into your fucking head that I don't wanna talk to you? Give me a goddamn break and keep your bullshit to yourself, you piece of—"

"Shut up!"

To his shock, Squall suddenly found himself thrown backwards onto the ground, held down by Seifer's hands that pinned his shoulders into the sand. The blond was hovering above him, staring down at the boy who was keeping far more secrets from him than Seifer would ever begin to know. Squall narrowed his eyes threateningly as he cut his gaze upwards, fully expecting his companion to appear angry, annoyed or frustrated, but what he found was something so entirely different that all of his explosive, directionless anger instantly died within him.

'What...'

Seifer's tanned, handsome features were soft and filled with a kind of profound, gut-wrenching sadness that Squall couldn't understand, because he had never seen anything like it before. Perhaps he had wanted Seifer to be furious with him, if only because it was the one, single human reaction to his abrasive attitude that would have made sense to Squall's damaged mind. It was all he knew – all he had ever learned.

So he laid there, waiting in defiant silence for a kind of backlash that would never come. His blue eyes refused to break free from Seifer's green ones, holding their gaze with a stupid kind of strength that was yet unbroken, but no matter how hard he tried, in the end, he couldn't manage to stay focused on the person who was sitting right on top of him. As his senses scattered, he could hear the waves breaking on the dunes and the rocks nearby, and the cries of the seagulls that circled tirelessly above them. There were so many powerful memories he associated with those sounds – so many nightmares filled with blood, silent screams and suffering. His tragic fate had been sealed on that beautiful evening on the beach, years ago, when his mother had become Kato's wife, and Squall had somehow become the twisted man's property. All the restrained emotions that had been building up inside of him since that day suddenly closed in around him as he laid there in the sand, confronted with his own emotional instability, and despite all his desperate efforts, he could no longer hold his demons at bay.

The moment Squall became overwhelmed by the brutal mental images that his brain had stored as sick little keepsakes for many years to come, Seifer saw his pale face twisting with wordless agony. The brunette fought to choke back his tears as he sucked in short, severed breaths now, but his emotions showed clearly in his grey-blue eyes as they became narrow, fixed and dark with pain. When Seifer became aware of that abrupt, shocking change in Squall's expression, he immediately leaned down to the dark haired boy and dug his forearms into the sand at the sides of the brunette's head, placing his palms against the younger male's temples.

"Shhh, Squall," the blond whispered as he felt Squall jerking beneath him, his face contorted by years of despair that Seifer knew nothing about and yet sensed all the same. "Shhh. It's okay. It's alright."

But Squall, who was collapsing within himself, only shook his head with a sharp, subconscious twitch of muscle, biting back indistinct sounds of horror.

"... Tell me," Seifer finally urged in a low, breathless voice as he, too, had to wrestle up whatever intestinal fortitude he could call his own in order not to start crying. "By God, please, just tell me."

Squall, however, only continued to shake his head, even when Seifer brought their foreheads together, as if trying to distract the brunette from the pain that was cutting through him with shocking brutality. With a helpless grimace, he murmured soothingly, "It's okay. You can say it. Just let it out. It's alright. I promise you, it's alright."

"No," the smaller boy groaned as he wrenched his eyes shut, wracked by the pain and tragedy that his once untainted, young soul had never deserved. "I can't... I can't..."

"Why? Why can't you tell me what's wrong?" Seifer ground out in a pleading, almost desperate tone. "I'm not trying to hurt you, Squall, I promise. Please, just tell me. Please."

The brunette flinched at the sound of Seifer's heartbreaking plea, but at this point, there wasn't enough fight left in him to even make up an excuse anymore. He wanted to stop lying, to stop pretending that his life wasn't an implosion of violence and madness, streaked by his own harrowing guilt and feelings of inadequacy... but Squall firmly believed that his relationship with Seifer would never survive such honesty. He had always hated lies and deceit, more than anything, and yet, when everything was said and done, he was the worst liar of them all. Squall knew this, but he couldn't change what his life had become. Deep down, he realized that his own existence would come to an end the very moment he would tear down his own defenses and admit that all this time, he'd been reduced to nothing but a sum of his stepfather's cruel desires and his oblivious mother's needs.

Still, he knew that he was sinking, and if he didn't reach out for something, anything, he might never be able to turn back, and all his battles waged and sacrifices made would have been in vain.

"Please, Squall, just let me help you," Seifer continued to beg, his voice cracking now as he took a few sniffling breaths and groaned against Squall's cheek. "Please. Tell me what's wrong. Please. You can't do this on your own. Nobody can be this goddamn strong all the time... nobody. Please, I just want to help. Please. What is it, Squall? What?"

"... My... head... is... so full of shit..." Squall finally whispered as his breath became heavy inside his chest, the words so tense that Seifer could barely hear them. "It... It's so noisy... all the time. It's so... loud... and I can't... I can't make it stop. I want to cut myself, just so it'll go away, but I... I'm scared. I'm scared I'm losing my mind. I don't know... I don't know what's going on. I can't... do this anymore. I just want to make it stop, but I don't know how. Please, just... just make it stop."

For the very first time since they had met in that parking lot seemingly years ago, loving and hating each other until neither one could imagine their own existence without their chaotic relationship, Squall had asked another human being for help. He hadn't done it in some selfless way in which he would request assistance for someone else, like for his father after the accident by the park – no, this time, Squall had asked for help for himself... for some kind of way to drive the shadows out of his head before his mind would be so far gone that it could no longer return to a state of sanity. The magnitude of that gesture would have been lost on most, but not on Seifer. The blond understood that Squall had to be nearing his own self-destruction for him to request anyone's help, and there was no way in hell that he was going to forsake the younger male now.

Even so... there was only one thing he knew that could bring any human's mind to a complete standstill, one act that could stop the hands of time altogether– but he'd never been more scared to step over that boundary, because this was the first time in his life that he had anything to lose.

'The only thing that's as powerful as your head... is your heart. There's nothing else. There never was. I want to help you, and I want to make you forget all the shit you've had to go through, but I don't want you to think that I'm doing it for some kinda fucked up reasons. If I do this the wrong way... at the wrong time... I might do more harm than good.'

And as Seifer slowly, gradually kissed his way across Squall's nose and cheeks, experiencing the weight of his own emotions in a manner he had never thought possible, he wanted to make it stop – he wanted to make Squall feel as good as he deserved, but at this point, he had run out of options. He was no psychologist, and honestly, he had no idea what Squall's fragile psyche truly needed, but perhaps it was better that way.

Because in the end, they would have never made it to this point if they had played by the rulebook.

"I can make it stop," the blond whispered in a firm, and yet unsure voice as he raked his right hand through Squall's hair and stoically continued to brush his lips across the brunette's marred skin. "I can make you think about nothing other than what's right in front of you... but... it's not a permanent solution, and you need to trust me, and you need to understand that I would never hurt you... or things will only get worse."

"I don't care about permanent," Squall only ground out with a sharp, aborted breath as his hands suddenly found Seifer's shirt and clawed it tightly while his face twisted once more. "I don't care. I'm so... tired... of caring. I... I don't even know how I got here. I-I... I thought... that I shouldn't... that I shouldn't have been born, that my mother should have just... gotten rid of me, and none of this would have happened. I don't... I don't know why I'm still here. Nothing makes any... any fucking sense. I never wanted to trust anyone... never... but... I... I trust you... I trust you so much that it scares me more than dying... Because... I'd rather be dead than be betrayed."

When those words finally spilled from Squall's tongue, Seifer's heart flooded with a blinding, brilliant kind of love, and he realized for the very first time that he had won the dark haired boy's heart long before he had ever dared to ask for it. As he was hovering there, his large body pressed against the lean brunette beneath him, he understood that he was the only person who had ever come this far – the only person who could hold Squall together before he would fall apart at the seams.

"Squall," the blond whispered with a long sigh that was heavy with love and sadness, his green eyes searching the brunette's face as they, too, filled with emotion, "I don't know how you got here, either, or what you had to go through to make it this far. I don't know why shooting stars make you look sad, or why you can't sleep at night. I don't know why you want to hurt yourself, or how it ever got that bad. I don't know what happened to you, or what I could have done to stop it. I guess, when it comes down to it, I really don't know much of anything... but... I do know that I love you, more than anyone I've ever known, and I know that I will never betray you,ever, not in this lifetime or any other. I promise."

Squall didn't blink, and he didn't say a word, but when Seifer watched the quiet trail of tears running down the brunette's temples and melting into the sand beneath him, he realized that he had made a difference. The only guy in his life who had ever managed to touch his heart was crumbling in front of him, and finally, Seifer knew, without the slightest shadow of a doubt, that he could prevent it from happening. He possessed the strength and dedication that Squall needed, and he knew exactly what to do to keep the brunette's mind with him, so close that the world could turn to ash and smoke around them, and they would never even care. He didn't know if Squall realized what he was suggesting, but at this point, he figured that there was only one way to find out.

"I... I'm s-sorry... I..." Squall suddenly stammered, looking lost as his fingers tensed around Seifer's shirt and his gaze became unfocused. "I'm so... fucked up... I... I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm acting like a kid, I... S-shit... I just don't know what to do, I..."

"But I do," Seifer whispered with the confidence of many more years than he could call his own, and his eyes suddenly flickered as brightly as the stars above. "I'm here. I'll help you. I'll make you forget whatever it is you want to forget. You just have to let me."

And with those words, Seifer wrapped his arm around Squall's torso and pushed himself off the ground, lifting the brunette up onto his feet as he rose to a standing position. The blond's hands were sure from years of experience, and his touch was firm when he dug his fingers into Squall's lower back without urgency. The shorter boy leaned against him with a small groan, his forehead inclining against Seifer's chest as Squall slowly dropped his hands to his sides. There was something soothing and gratifying about the feeling of Seifer's larger body molding itself against his own, about his arms snaking around him and pulling him tight until the shallow breaths that lingered between them seemed to melt into one. There was so much volatile heat in their relationship, so much longing that neither of them fully understood, but when Seifer's strong hands eventually pushed underneath Squall's shirt, feeling the soft, cool skin beneath with his fingertips, they both realized that this had never been about understanding anything.

'I don't care what happens tomorrow... Tonight, I'll make you forget everything you've ever known.'

Seifer wanted nothing more than to distract Squall from the pain that was ripping the brunette apart from the inside out, and turn it into something so entirely different that the younger male's body would never long for a razorblade's touch ever again. Truthfully, Seifer didn't know if he was thinking straight anymore – the question of whether he should or shouldn't do this suddenly seemed no longer relevant – but he knew that Squall was the only slash of color in this world, which had been blown to black and white a long time ago, and he knew that he would rather die than allow the brunette to live just one more day without knowing how beautiful and loved and wanted he really was.

"... Are you sure that you trust me?"

Squall could feel the raw, almost nervous tint to Seifer's question as much as he could feel the older male's pulse pounding through his skin when his face pressed against the blond's jugular. For all it was worth, Squall had no healthy concept of the word 'trust', yet for the first time in his life, the brunette wasn't scared of being hurt or left behind. It was all that he knew right now, and all that he needed... and at least for tonight, it was good enough.

Letting out a sigh as the harsh tightness within his chest subsided, Squall gently backed out of their embrace. Then, he raised both of his hands and hesitantly reached for Seifer's face, and as he slowly lifted his gaze, he saw the blank surprise that suddenly radiated from the blond's features. Something inside of Squall was chuckling at the sight; of course, of all things in this world, this was probably the last that Seifer had expected from him.

'I don't... care. I'm tired... of doing what's expected from me.'

"S... Squall...?"

Without even so much as a breath of a word in response, the brunette curled his right forearm around the nape of Seifer's neck, and he used his leverage to gradually inch the taller male's head down to his level. Ignoring whatever else the eighteen year old might have wanted to stutter, Squall bore his burning blue eyes into the blond's for just one brief, intense second, before he finally pulled their faces together and kissed Seifer for the very first time.

As the blond's mind went white and every inch of his body flooded with a charring kind of heat that he didn't even know he could feel, it suddenly became crystal clear to him that Squall's response required no words at all. And yet, when the brunette withdrew his lips for a moment, exhaling with a rough hiss, Squall defied any doubt there might have been as he choked out a very quiet, and almost soundless, "... Yes."

Groaning, Seifer yanked his lover close, his rational thought process completely buried beneath the vortex of emotions that came rushing in to him. His right hand clawed the back of Squall's head, and he shoved his mouth to the brunette's ear as he made a vow he would never break, so long as he had a heart still beating inside his chest.

"I'll make it go away, I swear. I will hold you until there are no more damn shooting stars in the sky, and no more fucked up dreams in your head, and you can't even remember why you ever wanted to hurt yourself in the first place. I promise, Squall," Seifer growled coarsely as his lips parted and moved to Squall's, and he poured all of his desperate passion into that single kiss, knowing that he was about to take the biggest leap of faith of his life, placing all of his trust into an act of love that he hoped would drive out even the darkest of shadows.

... Never knowing that he had no concept of what darkness truly was.

Ah, if you guys only knew how long the last part of this chapter took me. I never thought it'd be such a pain in the arse. I think it's obvious they love each other, but in a much less refined way than the typical boy-love story. At least I tried to stay away from the super-sugary-sweet mush stuff. Because I cannot stand it. Then again, this all sounds pretty mushy to me, regardless, so perhaps this was just an epic fail.

Anyway, I think you can all tell what comes next, if it wasn't obvious. Let's just say the greater part of the next chapter will likely not be on this website.

Hint, hint.