Squall knocked politely on the door and waited. After a moment a pleasant face greeted him.

"Can I help you?"

"Hello, Mrs. Dincht. I'm looking for Zell."

A frown creased the friendly features for a moment. "Squall? Is that you?"

"Yes, ma'am," he answered, embarrassed.

"Goodness, child… you look so different." A broad grin spread across her features. It was obvious where Zell learned his outlook on life. "Come in, dear. Zell just got in, he'll be up in his room." She opened the door and stepped back to allow Squall entry.

"Your hair is darling," she commented brightly as he walked past her. Doing his best to ignore that, Squall walked upstairs and knocked on Zell's bedroom door.

"Just a minute, Ma! I'm getting' dressed!" Zell's words carried through the door.

"It's me," Squall said, barely audible through the solid wood.

There was a moment of silence, a rush of movement, and then the door opened.

Zell was bare-chested, displaying a silver ring through one nipple. His low-cut, skin tight, black leather pants were similar to the ones Squall had just purchased, but were open all along both sides with black, silk cord lacing them on. A silver serpentine chain hung loosely around his waist. "I was just trying on my outfit for tonight," he said in response to Squall's silence. "What do you think?"

"…Is there more?"

"What? Oh!" Zell laughed. "Don't worry, I'll have a shirt on. Hold on, let me show you." He darted away to dig through his closet.

Squall stepped inside and shut the door behind him. Looking very carefully at anything but Zell's half-naked backside, he wondered why the room felt so warm.

"Aha!" Zell shouted in triumph. He swung his chosen top around and pulled it over his head. It was nothing too special; a pleasant, warm cream color, a nice, lightweight fabric—possibly linen—and yet… the fall of the cloth accentuated the musculature underneath, and the mild color, between the stark black of the pants and the golden bronze of his beautifully tanned skin, made his eyes into blazing sapphires and his hair liquid, living gold.

"So what do you think?" Zell asked again.

There was a motion in his throat as Squall swallowed nervously. "I think," he said, and then choked. He swallowed once more and gave it another try. "I think you're not going home alone, tonight."

A delighted laugh burst from the blond. "Now that is what I call a compliment!" He turned a full circle, giving Squall the full effect. "Glad you like it. So, what brings you here, oh strong-and-silent-type?" He flashed a wide grin before pulling the shirt off again.

"I…" Squall blinked. "What are you doing?"

"I don't want to wear everything out before tonight, now do I?"

Lacking a better answer, Squall shrugged. He looked down. "Can we talk?"

"I don't know. Give it a shot and we'll find out." Zell located a hanger and placed the shirt safely back in the closet. Realizing the dubious temperament of the one he was teasing, Zell apologized. "Sorry. I'm just feeling really good." He shrugged innocently and began unlacing the ties on each hip. "What's bothering you, the King of Whatever, so much that you want to actually talk about it?"

Squall looked up in time to see Zell shuck his pants down around his ankles and bend to pull them off. "I— Uh— Ngh," Squall answered intelligently.

"Squall?" Zell stood in front of his friend, concern etched on his face, wearing two pieces of jewelry and—Squall's eyes flickered briefly down—nothing else.

"It's really har—difficult—to talk to you when you're… you're… Could you get dressed?" Squall stammered.

Zell fought the urge to tease his shy friend. Who knew that Squall could be modest? He struggled for self-control, though, because he knew that if he gave in to the urge the stubborn bastard would just walk out the door. "Okay," he agreed. Locating his discarded shorts, Zell quickly pulled them on before hanging up his leather pants.

Housekeeping accomplished, Zell turned to Squall, who seemed to have used the interruption to regain his composure. Settling sideways onto his bed, one leg crooked beneath him, the blond patted the space opposite him. "Have a seat. What's on your mind?" he asked, honestly concerned; he'd never seen Squall behave like this.

Buying time, Squall slowly sat, spending more time than necessary to get comfortable. Zell bore with it remarkably well.

"Promise to hear me out before you freak," Squall said at length.

Burning with curiosity, Zell nodded. "I promise."

Squall took a deep breath. "Seifer's in town. I saw him this morning." He watched Zell for a reaction. Aside from wide eyes and a quiet gasp, he remained true to his word. Satisfied, Squall continued, "When the rest of you were saying goodbye to Rinoa, I was with Seifer."

"We wondered," Zell remarked. "I think she was a little hurt by the way you vanished, but she laughed it off, said you were just sick of the attention." He grinned. "Wonderful girl. It's still hard to believe that you don't love her, after all the times you risked yourself to save her and everything."

"Zell," Squall broke into the aimless ramble, "I went back for you once, too. Does that mean we're in love? Now, if we could get back to the subject at hand…?"

"Oh, right. Sorry. So, Seifer's back. Are we going to go kick his ass? What about his goons?"

"We're going to leave him alone. I spent a couple of hours talking to him this morning, and I know he came out of this mess worse than the rest of us combined."

The haunted look on his friend's face killed the comment Zell wanted to make before it could reach his lips.

"Raijin and Fujin," Squall went on, heedless of the near-interruption, "are pulling guard duty in Dollet right now to make ends meet."

"So we're just going to leave him alone? After everything he did?"

"Zell—" Squall sighed. "Are we punishing Matron?" he asked, reasonably.

"Of course not!"

"Then why punish Seifer? He had as little choice in the matter as she did, and at least Matron doesn't have a clear recollection of everything that bitch made her do. Seifer, unfortunately, does."

"Then…" It was almost possible to see the gears shift in Zell's mind. "Why don't we bring them back to Garden? If we're not mad at them, and they're so hard up for gil, it's the best solution, right?"

Sighing sadly, Squall answered, "Wrong. It would be, but Matron's there. I don't want Seifer to see her. Sending him to either Galbadia or Trabia Garden would be a disaster, too."

"I can see that, but why don't you want him to see Matron?" Zell asked, frowning in bewilderment.

"He wouldn't tell me everything that happened, but he told me enough. I wasn't exaggerating when I said he came out the worst from this." Squall closed his eyes against the memory. "I saw some of the scars… the ones he would show me. It was horrible, and that doesn't even count the things that were healed too quickly to leave a mark." He shook himself, trying to forget the tracery of raised, white lines decorating Seifer's back like some sick, post-modern artwork, and worse…

"Seifer needs normality; he needs friends, people who care. He does not need pity or loathing, which are what he would get from the majority of people."

"Sounds rough," Zell said soberly. "What do the others think?"

"You're the first one I've told."

"I… I am? But… why?"

"I trust you. Also, I know that no matter how much you hate Seifer, you're too compassionate to let that affect you." Squall smiled and fought the impulse to trace his fingers over Zell's tattoo.

Embarrassed by the unexpected compliment and restless from having been seated for so long, Zell jumped to his feet and took a few practice swings at his punching bag.

No longer in shock, Squall eyed Zell's naked upper body admiringly. All SeeDs trained themselves mercilessly, but Zell was truly a honed weapon. He was all grace and lethal power when he moved, and in stillness was like a prowling tiger.

When the fighter turned, Squall caught a glimpse of something that raised him to his feet. Laying a calming hand on Zell's shoulder, he brushed pearly hair from his eyes and inspected a tattoo he'd never before seen.

A waterfall flowed from between Zell's shoulder blades, frothed down his spine, and fell into a pool at the small of his back. Swans floated tranquilly on the water, away from the turbulence of the falls, although some sunned themselves on the mossy rocks tumbled about here and there.

"This," Squall's hand hovered over the design, "is beautiful."

Tossing a grin over his shoulder, Zell said, "Thanks. I designed it myself. You can touch it if you want to."

Silently, Squall followed the tumbling path of the water with his fingers. Zell shivered under the hesitant caress.

"Does it hurt?" Squall asked, concerned.

"No, it's all healed. It just tickles a little."

The gentle touch firmed. "Better?"

"Mmyeah."

"Zell?" Squall sounded uncertain; it made for an interesting change. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Of course. Whaddya need?"

"Quistis told me about last night." Muscles tightened under Squall's roving hands. He massaged them intently.

"I didn't—"

"I know." Squall shifted his attentions to Zell's shoulders, kneading them expertly as he spoke. "Still, at first, I thought you did… and I was jealous. The problem is," his voice remained carefully controlled, "I don't know who I was jealous of. You… or her."

"Her?" The syllable trembled in Zell's mouth.

"Her," Squall confirmed. "I care about you." He chuckled quietly, as if at a private joke. "You are my best friend, remember?"

Zell hadn't moved—either to face Squall or to get away from him. "Are you trying to tell me you're gay?"

"I honestly don't know. It's like I told Irvine earlier, I can't tell the difference between friendship and… well, more than friendship." Squall pulled his hands back. His next words were so quiet that Zell had to strain to understand. "I want to ask you for a kiss, so I can try to figure out what I'm feeling." He sighed and spoke a little louder. "But you are my best friend, and I don't want to lose that because I'm otherwise confused."

Finally, Zell turned. He looked up into slate blue eyes and casually brushed a strand of silver hair back. "I was willing to have sex with Quistis." He grinned. "In light of that, kissing you is hardly a chore."

Before that had a chance to sink in Zell grabbed two fistfuls of shirt and pulled Squall close, meeting his mouth in a surprise attack.

Squall, taken aback by the sudden assault, wrapped his arms around Zell for balance. His hands glided over the golden flesh, slipping lower as Zell pushed him gradually back, pressing him into the wall; the nipple ring cut into Squall's chest, making him gasp.

Zell ran his hands down Squall's arms, gripped his wrists, and forced them back, pinning Squall's hands over his head, fiercely kissing all the while, tongues fighting each other and teeth clashing from the force.

Panting heavily, Squall succumbed to the brutal trail of lips and teeth, moaning when Zell's sharp teeth closed on his neck; he felt Zell's hot tongue moving rapidly over the spot, sending stinging shocks of pleasure through Squall's body. He retaliated, dipping his own head down to sink teeth in Zell's neck, sucking hard on the smooth flesh scented with musk.

Releasing one trapped hand, Zell curled his fingers into Squall's fine hair and jerked his head to one side, exposing a fresh stretch of unblemished neck. Growling deep in his throat, Zell renewed his onslaught on this new territory.

Dropping his freed hand between them, Squall caught the silver ring between his fingers and pulled, biting harder on the skin between his teeth, caught somewhere between a growl and a moan.

Zell hissed and threw back his head, involuntarily thrusting his hips into Squall, who pressed his advantage and pulled his other hand free. Still leaning into the wall behind him, Squall wrapped his arm around the blond, dipping his hand into the loose waistband of his shorts. Cupping one well-muscled buttock in his hand, he squeezed, digging his fingernails into the soft skin.

At that, Zell pulled back, laughing merrily. "Had enough?" he asked, smirking.

Licking his lips, Squall tasted blood. "You always like this?"

Zell shrugged. "What can I say? I like it rough. But, no, I can be gentle, too." As if to prove it, he tilted his head up and kissed Squall softly on the lips. "I noticed you weren't exactly gently, yourself," he whispered, his breath warm and teasing on Squall's mouth. He dropped one hand to trace up Squall's thigh for emphasis, running over the belts strapped there.

"I guess I can be rough, too," Squall answered, inspecting the bleeding mark he'd left on his friend's neck. Pulling his hand away from Zell's ass he outlined the wound with one finger before casting a cure spell. "You really do bring out the worst in me," he said, only half-joking.

"Good," was Zell's reply, and then he, too, cast a cure to repair the damage he'd caused, incidentally taking care of the neglected sunburn.

A sudden knock on the door made them both jump. "I'm going to start dinner, dears. Are you going to stay?"

Squall shrugged and nodded at Zell's inquiring look. "Sure, Ma," Zell answered for them. "We'll be there."

"It'll be about an hour, then. You boys have fun." They heard her walk down the stairs.

They stared at each other in silence for a while, Zell fighting a grin. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he asked, "Should we follow Ma's directions, d'you think?"

"Sure," Squall said, voice soft and inviting. "But only if you do one thing for me."

"Oh? What's that?"

"Put a shirt on, you barbarian."

The quick movement took Squall utterly by surprise; he very rapidly found himself in a headlock. "When I feel like it," Zell said, grinning broadly.

"You think so, shorty?" Squall twisted and laid Zell flat on his back on the floor. "We'll see about that."

"Bring it on, jackass!"

Laughing, Squall attacked.