Prequel to Star Light
+ By Julie
+ rated NC-17 for explicit sexual scenes
+ yaoi content. Male/male having sex, getting each other off
+ Parings: Squall/Seifer
+ Disclaimer: I do own Zell but its just a cute toy chicken. Otherwise, I don't own any of the characters or anything else... *le sigh* Oh! I also own a Griever necklace now! *proud*
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+ Chapter 13: Family Ties +Laguna stood up the moment he heard the buzzer for someone opening the front gate. It was eleven at night and Laguna still hadn't seen Squall. Ellone said Squall was coming home tonight, but the brunette boy didn't tell her when.
So Laguna had waited.
Now Squall was home.
The older man left his office, heading through the hallway, passed the living room, into the entry hall, and towards the door. All he wanted was to see that his son was safe. To hug his son, though the boy was life a stiff board sometimes. And those other times, Squall was too much for Laguna. The kisses they sometimes shared wasn't the best habit.
Habit. It wasn't yet, but it seemed whenever Laguna had a true moment of talking with Squall, the damned boy would find reason to suddenly rush into his arms.
Why did Squall do something so utterly bizarre, and partially frightening for Laguna? Well, actually, the frightening part was at moments Laguna felt the desire to kiss Squall back.
It wasn't a habit, but Laguna knew he had to break Squall from doing that, otherwise Hyne knows what might happen.
The front door opened and Squall slowly made his appearance. At least the boy hadn't lied.
"Squall," Laguna said softly, eyes wide at his son.
Squall slowly turned after the door clicked shut and the bolt had been moved into place. Squall looked at his father, silent and stern as always.
Laguna attempted a smile. "You have fun tonight?" he asked. Ellone had spoken about her earlier conversation with Squall; Squall even mentioning his weekend to her. Laguna could only hope for the same openness for himself from Squall.
Squall stepped further into the entry hall, heading towards his father. Passed Laguna was the doorway that lead into the room where the staircases allowed for climb to the next floor.
Sidestepping his father, Squall showed no interest in even acknowledging Laguna was a breathing human. For all Squall seemed to think, Laguna was a new statue in the entry hall, decoration.
"Squall?" Laguna softly pleaded to his son.
Did Squall care? No. Did he stop to talk to his father? No.
And Squall had left the room, not even looking back.
Laguna felt his heart squeeze dry, the blood no longer pumping. Air froze in his lungs. His eyes watered, lower lip beginning to tremble. Then slowly, the old man made his dragging-footstep-way back to his office.
The bedroom was just as desolate as he'd left it. With his bag removed from shoulder, Squall continued towards his bed, flopping face-first onto the mattress.
He was hot. He'd re-adorn his leather clothing before returning home. Seifer had taken his clothes back, telling Squall not to worry about them - he'd wash them himself, no big deal. So Squall now wore his clothes from Friday. They were sweaty and sticky, and very hot now in his stuffy room.
Forcing himself up to his knees, Squall yanked off his clothes and boots, until he was stripped naked. What a moment for Laguna to enter, like last time? Not exactly like last time, since Squall's fist wasn't between his legs. But in a slow glance, Squall looked to the door, almost sure Laguna would enter.
Nothing.
Squall pushed off his bed, stretching before heading over to his dresser to find something else to wear. Of course, he'd pulled on one of his many pairs of black cotton pj bottoms, along with a white girl's t-top shirt with a growling black lion ironed into the front. Then he was dressed.
His glaze turned from their hazy look into nothingness, to the large mirror of his dresser. Looking at his blank expression, an odd sensation of seeing his mother filled Squall. It was his eyes, the cloud grey spheres, they were all too strong a reminder of the plain but beautiful Raine Leonhart.
The eyes closed, Squall unable to look at himself. He turned away, slowly making his way back to his white-cover bed, flopping back down onto the mattress. He then fidgeted with the covers until he'd managed to slide under them. With a soft tone, Squall called the lights to his room off, and he found himself in darkness.
With closed eyes, Squall calmed his body and waited for sleep.
Time passed. The grey spheres opened, eyes seeing only blankness and the soft white hue that was glowing off the moon from outside the window next to his bed. The moonlight gave the entire room a silverish glow, fighting a losing battle with the pitch black.
Squall closed his eyes again after a silent study of the room. Again, time passed, but Squall was still awake.
Pushing up from where he'd been laying, Squall looked around the room again. Why was he still awake?! The one thing he preferred to do above all and it wouldn't come?
The covers tossed off of Squall's lap and he slid out of his giant bed. He turned, glancing down at the king-sized mattress. Eight pillows lined up, one specifically for Squall to lay his head on and a second now for Squall to cuddle against. The covers weren't tangled, but they were loose. Squall preferred them loose, they'd cuddle around him better, he could move easier.
Hell, the bed was just as normal as it always was.
Squall should be tired. He'd spent all last night talking with Seifer, and all day dozing in and out during class time. After school, Squall had hung out with Seifer and Blood Kiss, listening to them bitch at each other about their latest songs and how things should flow, and about their small concert this weekend.
Squall should be tired.
He was. Really, seriously tired, but sleep escaped him.
The realization came easily, Squall knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep for a while. Damn night wouldn't allow it. Damn mind wasn't ready to turn off. Wait, when had his mind turned on?
Laguna stared blankly at the flames flickering in the fireplace. Sparks few as one log gave way and broke in half. The room was dark other than the red light from the fire. Laguna's face was warm, eyes blurred.
He wasn't one to notice a presence in a room with him, so he nearly jumped 5 feet from the chair when Squall showed up next to him.
"Hyne!" Laguna said, startled. "Squall..." Laguna turned his body from its position facing the fire. He tilted his head to look up at his son. "Squallie? You... okay?"
Squall blinked at his father, seeing the reddened skin from the fire's heat on his dad's cheeks. His hand lifted, arm reaching forward, and fingers brushing over the warm flesh. Laguna just watched and waited.
After Squall's hand moved back and the staring ensued, Laguna tried again. "Squallie?" His voice stayed soft and concerned, yet hopeful that his child would offer some sort of insight to his current strange mindset.
"No... more... Squall... ie," Squall tried.
Laguna smirked. Squall had been trying for years to get Laguna to break that nickname. It was a cute name, though Laguna knew it was childish. Even Ellone called Squall it sometimes. It was Raine's nickname for Squall, but that wasn't the reason Squall didn't wish to be called it anymore. He was 15 now, a little old for the cute soubriquet from childhood.
Or maybe it was because Squallie reminded Squall too much of his mother. All Squall knew was that Laguna laughed and often said that name to annoy Squall. It was that of which allowed Squall to find reason for stopping the name, even if there was more too it. Though the more was on an unconscious level.
"Sorry," Laguna said, still smirking. "Squall."
Squall's eyes hovered over Laguna, glanced to the fire, then moved back to continue his stare at his father.
"Can't sleep," Laguna volunteered what he was doing.
Squall silently studied Laguna before shaking his head and saying "Can't either."
Laguna maybe should bring up Squall ignoring him earlier. Perhaps should act angry and find a way to punish Squall. But Laguna wasn't like that. The ignoring was already forgotten, and his son was standing here now. Laguna could only smile. Before he had time to reply to Squall's words, going into a long monotone of his long insomniac nights spent in front of the fire, Squall's actions stopped him.
The 15 year old boy climbed into his lap, arms around Laguna's shoulders, eyes closed, body leaning heavily to his father. Shock prevented Laguna from moving. It was fatherly instinct that forced the odd rush of tingles through Laguna's body away, and Laguna was able to wrap his arms around Squall's waist.
With his head on Laguna's shoulder, Squall breathed in his father's scent. He opened his eyes then lifted his head.
Laguna looked at his son, again the blank state of ignorance keeping Laguna from being afraid of a kiss. Yet Squall didn't kiss.
"Raine," Squall said softly, trying to sort out the jumbled mess of thoughts that were soaring through his mind.
Laguna waited patiently.
"Her eyes," Squall tried. "see them in mine."
Laguna's expression turned sympathetic and a hand raised to caress Squall's cheek.
"Yes," Laguna confirmed. "You do have your mother's eyes. And her skin and hair and lips."
Squall's right hand rushed up to touch his own lips. The fire crackled from behind, making Squall realize the flames were beating against his back, warming his body.
It felt good to be in Laguna's arms. Unlike the empty feeling of his bed. Unlike the empty feeling of his life. Hyne, the look from his own eyes felt like he'd been looking at his mother. It was only in the moments when Squall was alone yet conscious of life that he realized those things. That he saw his mother in himself.
It was those moments that Squall felt the last of his emotions, those emotions that he'd banned as a child. Squall hated it when he saw his mother in his eyes. And then he hated it more when he felt. Wasn't that what made Mommy cry? Hadn't those tears poured heavier when Squall tried to be a helpful, loving child?
When Squall stopped feeling and started just standing back, his mother was able to concentrate on having a good life for herself. Squall snuffed out his emotions because his mom was happier when she didn't have to look into his hopeful and scared eyes. It was when Squall's eyes were blank that Mommy didn't cry.
Squall shouldn't think those things. His hand dropped back to his lap, left hand still wrapped over Laguna's shoulders. Forcing the thoughts of his mother's eyes out of his mind, Squall tried to reason what he was doing downstairs and in his father's arms.
"Ellone told me you had fun over the weekend," Laguna tried, he was still hopeful for the openness.
Squall nodded.
Laguna smiled. "With your friend Seifer?" He wanted to actually hear about his son having friends. Finally friends!
Squall nodded again, his eyes locked in a half-trance with his father's gaze.
Laguna was still smiling. "So what did you do?!"
The blank look ensued, but Squall inwardly asked why his father suddenly sounded like he was speaking to a five-year-old.
"Oh, well, I mean," Laguna started, letting his smile fade. He was being pushy and Squall hadn't even gestured that time. "If you want to tell me."
Squall allowed himself a longer silent moment then "Football game."
Laguna smiled wide, grinning with full teeth showing. "Wow! Whatcha think?"
No reaction.
Of course that had been a bad question, like Squall would even have an opinion of it. Except Laguna had to try. "But it was fun?"
"With Seifer," Squall said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Laguna grinned happily, pulling his son to him, hugging. He'd milked the conversation for all it was worth, for all Squall would allow out. The boy was speaking and offering information. It was better - a lot better - than the conversations where Squall's masturbation habits came up.
Honestly, Laguna hadn't meant to stand there! He'd just been shocked. His son was masturbating for Hyne sake. Fist between his legs, fingers wrapped around his cock, pumping. Lubricant bottle next to him. Where did Squall get that lubrication bottle?
Laguna suddenly realized that he was envisioning the memory of his son jacking off. Good moment to delete mind, go blank, realize that your son is sitting on your lap right now.
Too late.
Squall sat up, looking down to Laguna with a small amount of shock in the normal desolate eyes.
Laguna couldn't have been redder if red marker was drawn onto his cheeks.
Squall's head cocked to the side, looking over his father's face.
"Daddy?" Squall said in a hushed breath of air.
Laguna only stared, wondering how much longer Squall was going to sit on his hard on and stare back.
Squall was about to stand up but he stopped himself. Instead he turned to Laguna and pressed his lips to his father's. Laguna's entire body stiffened and his eyes closed, but Squall's tongue didn't come out. And then the weight lifted from Laguna's lap.
"Night Daddy," Squall said gently.
Laguna opened his eyes and looked up to see Squall giving him a placid stare before the teen turned and walked from the room.
Laguna was utterly shocked. His gazed remained at the place where Squall's body disappeared around the corner, just blankly watching the air. He wasn't shocked over the hard on, that's what he got for thinking about his own kid jacking off. And it wasn't his son kissing him that shocked him, nor the sexual way Squall had. And it certainly wasn't the walking away.
No tongue. Squall hadn't kissed him without a tongue since probably when Squall was about eleven years old. Not that Laguna wanted to even think about his young child kissing him like that, but Squall had. Then suddenly tonight Squall didn't?
Laguna turned and looked back at the fire. Maybe somehow Squall was becoming more normal? Friends, kissing his father more decently, having fun, getting a life. Perhaps Squall was now beginning to finally understand he was still allowed to live, even though his mother was gone.
Squall walked back into his room. The thoughts of his father's hard on and the kiss already banished from his mind. The incident didn't even make it to short-term memory.
The door shut and Squall locked it. He walked to the desk where his side bag was laying. Opening the bag, Squall removed the carefully placed white rose.
He caressed one of the large pedals, before turning and walking to bed. The rose was slightly crushed, but it was still in full bloom. Beautiful, if Squall bothered to think about it.
Looking up from the rose, Squall glanced around his entire room, which was only lit in moonlight still. No normal lights on. Suddenly the rose blended all to well with the bleak room.
Squall moved to lie backwards, legs pulled up only to slip under the thick white blankets. Rose still in hand, Squall turned to cuddle on his side, snuggling down while surprisingly wondering what Seifer was doing at that moment.
The entire weekend spent without one single real sexual experience. Fucking weird that Seifer wasn't disappointed. Hell, the weekend had been amazing with Squall. All the way to Monday morning, when Seifer dropped Squall off at school.
After school, Squall and Seifer kissed - which Seifer could only smirk about - in front of the entire Draigh's School of Honors student body. Or damn near entire. Then Squall slid into the truck and was off with Seifer, a loser, to wherever they always went out of sight of the snobby assholes.
That was, of course, to Thoran's house where Blood Kiss played with some of their music. Seifer was even able to gloat about Squall saying Blood Kiss was better than Hallows.
Victor was the only band member who laughed, the rest were in complete awe. When did Squall speak? And when the freaky kid did, didn't he always tell the truth? Squall didn't seem the type to stroke someone's ego. And Seifer's ego didn't need stroking.
Stroking. Damn it, Seifer was now off thought-track with thinking about Squall's hand stroking his cock.
Shaking the thoughts away, Seifer shifted in his bed. It already felt awkward not to have Squall with him. Lonely. And that weird rush of fear of his father running into the room hit Seifer again.
Damn it, Seifer's mind was racing around like a fucking Chicobo. He needed to breathe.
A loud crash then yelling came from outside the room. Seifer rolled onto his back to listen to his father yelling at Beth, then a few other men's voices. Tonight his father's friends were over and they were in some sort of drinking competition.
More breaking and more yelling. Rooting and booing then screams for more beer.
The wall Seifer's bed was propped up against shook from a body falling heavily against it. Seconds later loud knocking fell on Seifer's door.
"Fuck off!" Seifer growled. He wasn't about to pretend to be asleep, or act afraid. He was strong and could take care of himself. If Micht did run into the room with a bat, Seifer wouldn't start crying. He's fucking get the bat from Micht and beat the shit out of his own old man with it. Didn't mean Seifer wasn't still 16 and very much alone. He was still allowed to feel fear.
"Seifer!" a man called.
Hyne, it was one of Micht's friends. Wonderful.
"Unlock ya're door," the slurred words came.
Seifer knew which one too; the younger one that was all too fascinated about Seifer's sexuality.
Pushing the covers away, Seifer got out of bed and walked to the door. He unlocked it and opened it, coming face-to-face with a drunken Jeremy - 26 year old loser. Cute, but Seifer wasn't even about to go there.
Seifer pushed passed Jeremy, the man following Seifer as the teen walked out into the grungy living room.
"What?!" Micht yelled at Seifer, glaring. Micht was drinking with his friends, what the fuck did his faggot son want?
Seifer glared at Micht as he pointed back to Jeremy.
"Your little pussy bitch friend wants me to fuck him," Seifer growled.
"Don't do it in here!" Micht quickly said.
Jeremy's hand moved to Seifer's shoulder, all to happy that Micht was getting more use to the idea of Seifer being gay. Before Micht would have bitched Jeremy out for being a fag too. Now Micht just wanted that shit away from him.
Seifer harshly shrugged off Jeremy's hand.
"He'd about to get a fist in his throat, not my dick," Seifer snapped.
Micht's drunk friends just watched and waited. They'd seen a few times when Seifer knocked Micht to the ground. Micht got drunk too much.
Micht paused before saying "Okay." His right hand was up in a so? motion. His left hand was busy with a beer bottle.
Hyne, Seifer fucking hated being 16 years old.
"I don't want your dumb friend bothering me," Seifer stated plainly. "If he does, I'm going to beat the shit out of him."
"Aw, c'mon sweetie," Jeremy purred in his drunken state. "Just-"
Seifer warmed them.
Jeremy stumbled backwards, holding his jaw in his hands. His beer had dropped to the floor.
Seifer darted a glare to Micht, who was staring with a glazed look in his eyes at Jeremy.
"Keep. Them. Away," Seifer growled before turning back to his room where he locked the door and allowed himself to breathe.
Laughter at Jeremy's expense came from outside the small safely in Seifer's room. The blonde slowly walked back to his bed, sliding into the cold covers, wondering when the moment of freedom would finally come for him. Hyne, fucking bastard apartment managers never wanting to give Seifer a chance. Freedom looked a long ways off.
And that damned fear was plaguing Seifer right now. Bastards wouldn't come into his room at all, but still Seifer didn't feel comfortable. His bed was cold and empty. Seifer could only wish Squall was here with him. Last night hadn't been to bad with his parents home, because Squall had been with him.
Squall sure as hell didn't protect Seifer. But Squall had been comforting, the presence of another life and having someone with him that actually cared.
Hold up, Squall was a barren plain of nothingness. Damn kid acted like the world could be blown up and all he'd do was stand there. Seifer had to respect Squall for that stern calm. Nothing fazed him.
Did Squall care? Thinking it over, Seifer had to believe there was something inside Squall that cared. Squall was just strong, outside protecting his inside. Didn't give a fuck if people thought he was a retard, which almost made Seifer laugh. He'd been a little sensitive over the subject when his friends were asking about it Saturday night. But Squall was his boyfriend and Seifer had to be protective of him, and maybe a little protective of his own pride as well.
If Squall was retarded, would Seifer care? Emotionally retarded was probably more like it. That was Squall and Seifer was beginning to wish he had that frame of mind. If he did, Seifer would have just ignored Jeremy tonight. Not ignored like scared, but ignored like Jeremy didn't even fucking matter.
Jeremy mattered to Seifer though. Not in the relationship way that thought sounded. No, Jeremy mattered because he challenged Seifer's security and confidence. The man was able to break into Seifer's strong barrier by degrading Seifer's life. A simple "You want to fuck?" and Seifer felt like screaming and crying and raging and begging all at the same moment.
Bad enough his father had beat the shit out of him when he was younger, but now suddenly when Seifer was halfway safe from the old man's fists he had to deal with knowing that he wasn't completely safe. He needed out of this house.
Seifer shifted in his bed, listening to the sounds from outside his locked door. He'd leave if he had somewhere else to go, but he didn't. His friends couldn't let him stay over, they had their own problems at home. Besides, Seifer wasn't about to go crying to anyone about being alone and afraid. And tomorrow night Seifer would just feel the same as he did tonight.
Sitting up, Seifer left his bed to walk to where his trench coat hung in his closet. Reaching into the right pocket, Seifer removed the small picture Squall had given him. In Squall's wallet the brunette had kept a few pictures. After the Baby Turned 15 picture, there was one of Laguna dressed in full uniform, a school picture of Squall's sister, a picture of Raine holding Squall when he was a baby, then Squall's school picture.
Squall had given Seifer the last picture, though Seifer hadn't asked. Seifer liked having the picture, so he was happy Squall had just volunteered it over.
The placid look on Squall's face in the photo made Seifer smile. The blonde ventured back to his bed, getting in, still holding the picture.
Tonight when he'd dropped Squall off was when Squall gave him the picture. The brunette also pointed out which window lead to his room in the mansion. Third floor, far left corner. Seifer had asked.
Squall offered Seifer to come inside, though using less words than that. Seifer just smirked and shook his head. He was fine going home.
Looking at Squall's photo now, Seifer wished he'd taken Squall up on the offer. But then again, tomorrow night would be just like tonight here in Old Esthar.
The sounds of something large breaking came then shots and the sound of a body being thrown into a wall. Wonderful, the drunks had started to fight.
Author's Notes:
Due to my fics' graphic nature FF.net has removed most of them. It's a sad moment in Fan Fiction history.
Since these chapters don't have any sexually explicit content, I've posted them again. This will be the ~only~ fic I post here at FF.net until it is finished. (then I'll have to start posting a different one to inform ya'll on updates.) The only reason I've even come back here is to let people know I've been updating my fics.
www.voltress.net is my web site, I host NC 17 rated fictions. That web site will also be where I post all my smut scenes for this particular fic, since I'll be forced to cut them out. I'll make sure to inform ya readers when I cut out the smut and give you a link to where you can read it.
If you want to know when I update my fics by email - send me a message and I'll add you to my mailing list. elemental_twins@hotmail.com
Thanks for reading.
~*Julie, xoxo