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 14: Better Than This +Seifer's truck continued down the freeway, going faster than he should have. And it wasn't that he was in a hurry, because he wasn't. It was one in the morning, on a weekday, and Squall was sitting next to him.
The brunette wasn't much of a conversationalist still, even three weeks into them knowing each other. Life had followed a new rhythm for the two new boyfriends, though their old lives still threatened to pull them back down. Seifer spend each day with Squall and his band, Blood Kiss. Squall would go home to ignore the family that had already been falling apart -- even before Squall had decided to get a life.
Squall would wander, without word, to his bedroom late at night. Crawling into his bed, Squall would spend his time each night in the first stages of what would soon become an habitual insomnia. The nights Squall spent with Seifer, insomnia didn't come.
On nights that Squall went home, Seifer would spend his sleepless hours locked away in his bedroom. He'd ignore the homework that he should have been doing; instead writing music, playing his guitar, and ignoring the screams from the other rooms in the house. Whenever Seifer ventured out of his bedroom, Mitch found reason to yell at him, be it for loud music, Seifer's sexuality, or just the pants Seifer had been wearing at that moment. No matter what Seifer did, Mitch found reason to yell. Beth just sat by on her wasted ass, uncaring.
Seifer and Squall had new lives together. Seifer actually has reached his record length of any relationship he'd ever been in, three weeks, and he didn't see an end any time in the near future. Squall was too perfect, everything about him, in Seifer's eyes.
Squall's grades dropped from being a C student to a D-F student. Instead of spending his hours locked away in his bedroom alone, where he would do his homework just for lack of anything else, Squall spent his time with Seifer. There wasn't any reason for Squall to give school attention. Laguna has gotten another phone call from one of the teachers about Squall's grades, though the man couldn't figure a way to speak to his son about it.
Squall had a social life for the first time ever. The boy, thought less responsive to his family, obviously was getting stimuli elsewhere. Laguna was torn between letting Squall live, or forcing Squall's new social life away. Did school matter that much? When Laguna's child was normally so depressed nothing matter, not even looking out in the road before crossing it -- that was Squall, after all. The boy didn't see the world around him, and Laguna knew that. So what should he do?
Squall had a friend, did Laguna have enough reason to ban that? For homework? Laguna hadn't been good in school himself, and he knew his son was smart. Squall had the rest of his life to worry about school. So Laguna was, right now, leaning towards the letting Squall live choice. Though if Squall's grades completely dropped out, Laguna would have to step in and say something.
At least Squall was finally alive. And maybe happy?
"Squall," Seifer said after turning down his blaring radio.
Squall slowly turned his glaze from the dark night road, looking over to his blonde boyfriend.
Glancing from the road himself, Seifer looked at Squall.
"Sorry it ran so late," Seifer said, then quickly turned back to focus his attention on the empty night freeway around. His truck barreled down the fast-lane.
The brunette didn't reply, turning his glazed-over state back to its focus on the night road and black sky.
There conversations were never that detailed. Not unless Squall actually found something that he could retain within his mind, process well enough, then reply to. Things didn't compute as fast as they had in the past, when he was a child. Not that he was slow, but he'd forgotten a lot of when to reply, and how to reply to simple things such as "Nice day, huh?" Squall didn't know how to react.
But Seifer was more than used to it. And he didn't mind waiting for Squall to think of something to say, or what he should say. Sometimes Squall's immediate response was so completely off that it surprised Seifer. Squall thought of things differently, and didn't have much reason to think of those things like everyone else.
Growing up, however that Squall had, trained Squall somehow to be like he was. So antisocial.
"You liked the new song?" Seifer asked.
Pulling his eyes once again from the scenery around, Squall turned his gaze back to Seifer. Thinking over anything that he might have noted during the performance tonight, Squall remembered the new song -- mostly because of Seifer's guitar solo.
"Embrace," Squall recited the title, though he couldn't have told anyone how much time passed before the word left his mouth. "Yes."
Seifer smirked. Nodding, he said, "After school tomorrow, ya know Thoran scheduled that studio for us. So I won't be picking you up." Seifer had wanted Squall to come, but it cost money in the studio, and he would have to work the entire time. No time available to give attention to the beautiful silent brunette.
The expression on Squall's face didn't change. Seifer had mentioned the studio earlier, except Squall had already forgotten. Squall simply nodded, trying to retain the information and remember to tell his driver to pick him up tomorrow after school.
The truck changed lanes then curved off of the freeway, turning in the large circular off-ramp, joining the barren main streets that would lead it to the Palace.
Moments later, the truck had pulled to a stop.
Seifer unbuckled his seatbelt and jumped out of his truck. Heading around, he opened the door for Squall; the brunette always waited for Seifer to do so.
His black leather boots fell to the paved street. Squall then stepped away from the truck, allowing Seifer to close the door.
The blonde's hand raised, cupping Squall's chin gently.
"I'll see you later?" Seifer said as he lightly caressed his thumb over Squall's pale skin.
Squall nodded once, just slightly so Seifer's hand wasn't pushed away.
Leaning forward, Seifer pressed his lips to Squall's. As always, the brunette quickly pressed back up, mouth opening for Seifer's tongue. The brunette's hands pressed against Seifer's chest, the blonde pulling his boyfriend closer. Then the kiss ended and their lips parted. But before Seifer pulled from Squall's embrace, the brunette did what Seifer was beginning to think was a tease kiss. Squall, in a light motion, licked the side of Seifer's mouth then licked Seifer's lips, kissed lightly and pulled back.
Before Seifer had a chance to reply to Squall's licking-kiss, the brunette had turned away and was walking towards his house. Seifer never complained about that kiss from Squall, but Seifer couldn't help feel it was Squall teasing him. Like Squall was daring for Seifer to ask for more than a kiss. Squall was heading into his house, the tease was almost like Squall dared Seifer to ask to come in -- perhaps stay the night, in a way less innocent than the nights they'd previously spent together.
Seifer didn't follow after Squall. The brunette was difficult to read, and the bases for Seifer's interpretation of the kiss was on previous relationships and how his old boyfriends had acted. Squall was nothing like his old boyfriends.
Turning to his truck, Seifer headed around the hood-end, slipped back into the driver's seat, and roared the engine on. Seconds later the radio was blasting at full volume and he was headed back to the hell-hole he was forced to call home.
In his bedroom, Squall flipped on the lights. White made the room glow more than it was, and Squall found himself blinking against the harsh of the white-lights. He didn't bother to notice, but just days before he wouldn't have ever been aware of the bright lights, and he certainly wouldn't have been blinking against them.
The natural side bag that was always carried with him flopped onto his school desk. Further steps into the room allowed Squall to remove his coat, which fell onto the floor; pull off his shirt, which joined the coat; and begin the task of removing his belts.
Reaching his dresser, Squall removed his normal pajamas and clothed himself for sleep. Without bothering to pick up his other clothes, Squall walked to turn the room lights off before crossing over to his king-size bed.
Crawling into the empty and cold sheets, Squall pulled one pillow to hug while laying against a number of other pillows. His eyes closed, but sleep was far off.
Habitual insomnia.
Of course Seifer hadn't been excepting his foster parents to be home. Well, no, only Micht was home. Still it was a surprise.
"Where's your boyfriend?" Micht's slurred words asked when Seifer walked through the front door.
Doesn't get any better than this, Seifer thought to himself as he looked on. Micht: his clothes dirty, shirt unbuttoned, beer gut hanging out. A bottle of jack in one hand and a bat in the other.
"At his house," Seifer replied, turning to head down to his bedroom. "What're you doing here?" Seifer asked, not looking back as he walked away from his father.
"This is my fuckin' house!" Micht snapped back with his drunk accent. "I'll be 'ere if I wanna."
Seifer shook his head, now in the hallway, ignoring whatever would be leaving Micht's mouth in a few moments.
"You little fag! Come back 'ere!"
Seifer went to unlock his bedroom door when he noticed it was open. His large hand immediately went up to hold onto the doorframe as his eyes widened at the sight of the door handle broken off -- by a bat probably.
"Bitch!" Micht's voice yelled to Seifer. "Can't believe I adopted a faggot! Of course my bitch wife was all too excited about it."
Seifer's fingernails dug into the wood as the door swung open with a light push. His entire room was trashed. Stereo, TV, game consoles, computer, even his fucking guitar amp -- all destroyed. Mattress was thrown off the box-spring, covers tossed everywhere. CD cases scattered the floor like broken tiles. Everything that Seifer had worked so hard for over the months, it was all destroyed.
His eyes lowered, unable to stare anymore. Then they closed. It should have surprised him, but honestly it didn't. The lock was only going to keep out his foster parents for so long, and it finally broke. Nothing was stolen, only destroyed. Not worth steeling from a faggot.
Anger swelled up, Seifer's eyes opening and he turned to go beat the shit out of Micht. Drunken bastard probably wouldn't put up much of a fight, which disappointed Seifer, but this was it. Seifer would beat Micht, then get into his truck and get the fuck out of this goddamned place.
Heading back down the hallway, Seifer walked with clenched fists.
"You old fucker!" Seifer yelled. "You're-" The bat to his stomach stopped his words. Pain filled up Seifer's side, ribs probably broken. His arms wrapped around his stomach, air ripped from his lungs and he collapsed to his knees. Turning quickly to the second entry doorway to the kitchen, Seifer had barely enough time to watch the bat come down against the side of his head. Luckily, Micht was so drunk he hadn't been able to keep his balance. The bat didn't meet Seifer's head, instead Micht's deadweight body fell against him then slid to the floor.
Seifer pushed away, still on his knees, turning back to see Micht's glazed-over eyes and the drool dangling from his lip. Some blood trickled down his forehead, where Micht's head had come in contact with the hallway wall. The bat was still in his hands, but barely.
Snatching the bat away, Seifer held onto it and glared down at Micht.
"You fucker," Seifer growled. "You get what you've always wanted: I'm leaving. You'll never have to see me again."
Micht's lips moved as he tried to speak. Seifer ignored the old man and pushed off the ground, pain shooting up his side from the heavy movement. The bat was clutched in his right hand.
"Good," Micht replied to Seifer. "You and that bitch wife... gone!"
Bitch wife. Beth. She must have left Micht, at least until she runs out of money, then she'd be back. But Beth was gone, which could have explained Micht's drunken mood and anger.
"Fuck you, Micht," Seifer growled softly. He was about to step over the old man, head back to his room to get his hidden money stash when Micht's voice stopped him.
"She took it," Micht said. "The fat ganger roll of cash you had. Yep, found it when she picked the lock to your bedroom."
Seifer sneered down. Micht was probably lying, Seifer would obviously have money in his room -- hidden. Micht was trying to get Seifer to leave without looking.
"10,000 Gil," Micht confirmed. "Over that. Found it in that little box in the vent of your closet."
Ignoring whatever else Micht was saying, Seifer rushed back to his bedroom. Micht hadn't been lying, and that cunt stole all Seifer's cash.
The box, which had been hooked up into a vent, was laying on the floor of his bedroom. Open, no money. The only thing left was Seifer's first guitar pick and the picture of Squall.
Kneeling down, Seifer couldn't fight the water glistening his eyes. He picked up the photo of Squall gently, his teeth clenched in anger and frustration.
Standing tall, the room felt as though it was spinning. Turning around, Seifer (re)broke the nearest thing the bat could bash into. The desk lamp shattered, pieces scattering away.
"Ahhrugh!!" Seifer screaming, falling to his knees. He still clutched onto both the photo and bat. "Damn it!" he cried through clenched teeth. He threw the bat across the room, it (re)breaking something else. "Fuck!" Seifer growled, not even noticing the bat.
What the fuck was he going to do?
Standing, Seifer forced himself tall and walked through the maze that had become his room. Passing the broken door, Seifer saw Micht now sitting up in the hallway, back leaning against the wall. The old man turned to Seifer, smirking.
"Screwed us both," Micht said nonchalantly, referring to Beth.
Seifer stopped walking once he reached where Micht sat.
"She stole from me," Seifer said plainly. "You broke everything that I owned. I have nothing now. It's my life that's fucked up. Yours already looked like this."
"Fuck you, you ungra-" Micht started but Seifer's fist into the wall above Micht's head stopped the man. Pieces of drywall crumbled, dusting Micht's head and shoulders.
"Don't!" Seifer yelled, before pulling his fist out of the wall. "Don't say anything to me."
Turning away from Micht, Seifer walked down the hallway, leaving the house.
He didn't have any idea where he would go. Starting up his truck, Seifer knew he only had three hundred Gil in his wallet, another 50 or so bucks that was in the bank -- well, if Beth hadn't taken that money too. Seifer was 16, not allowed to get a bank account without an adult cosigner, which is why he didn't keep all his money there. Just enough for his parents to skim a little or a lot from. Beth probably had taken that 50 Gil too, though.
Seifer's ribs hurt. Badly. He figured he had a few broken bones thanks to that good swing Micht had gotten before the old man tumbled to the ground. And Seifer's right hand was slightly sore, probably bruised a few bones from slamming his fist so hard into the wall. Who knows, maybe he broke something in his hand too.
The lights on the freeway were dim when he truck barreled up. It was after 2 in the morning now and he was just driving. He didn't have a clue where he was going, all he knew was he had to get away from that house. He would never go back. Never see Micht or Beth again. He swore it to himself.
Aside from his truck, the only thing he had was his guitar (which had been in his truck because he's used it to perform last night) and that single picture of Squall.
Biting his tongue hard as his eyes began to water, Seifer yelled at himself mentally for the beginning tears. He wasn't like this, he didn't cry. He should be able to shake off that his entire life was just destroyed. But everything hurt inside and the only thing that mattered was the picture of Squall hadn't been destroyed. The single picture of the boy that always made things seem wonderful.
Seifer could go to a friend's house, but that was more trouble than it was worth. The only choice he had was between sleeping in his truck tonight, or insanely going to see Squall.
Seifer didn't want to be alone. Not tonight. Not after everything was falling apart. Would Squall even want to see him? Would Squall let Seifer in? When there was that chance that perhaps Squall's father would find Seifer, and then Squall would have to explain exactly who Seifer was, would Squall go through the trouble for Seifer?
The truck for the night, cold and alone, probably end up crying himself to sleep; or going to see Squall.