You learned something new everyday. For Seifer, it was that Zell could raise his left eyebrow so high it threatened to disappear into his hairline. It said everything he was thinking. All he was thinking basically amounted to wha? huh? come again?
He had to say something else quick before he could dwell on it. "Look, I'm just sayin that I wanna make up to you for all that stuff in the past, alright?" He still had his hands held out in front of him, palms open in a pleading gesture.
"You don't need to make up for nothin." The response was a little too quick. Zell didn't want him to make up for the Ultimecia incident, he had gotten over Seifer's involvement in that, it was his feelings that he was wary of. Seifer was probably to blame for many of his really bad memories. But really, by denying that there was even anything to make up for made not a single blasted thing easier. Fuck.
"Alright, if you say so. Then why're you so pissed?"
"Oh, it ain't important." He'd regressed to using broken speech. It was his habit when he got really pissed. He'd stopped talking like that years ago. Slipping back into old habits was not what he needed. Although he couldn't ignore the irony of their role reversal. Because that barb had hurt something fierce, his face flinched involuntarily as it absorbed into his skin almost physically.
He blew out the breath he hadn't even known he was holding in a single, steady stream. Alright, he'd come, he'd apologized, and he'd been hurt. Not really badly, but it was a wound that would hurt like an infected cut. The healing would be far more painful than the actual injury. He might as well leave with his tail between his legs before things got any worse. "Fine, Zell. I'll just leave you alone."
"Fine." Even now, with his face all scrunched up in anger, Zell was still distracting. A very small drop of sweat, or water, rolled down his neck onto his strong chest. His hand absently swept it away after it had run its course between those firm pectorals. The urges to lick his lips and stare and close his eyes were equally strong. Ambivalence wasn't a pretty thing.
"Fine." He chose to close his eyes as he turned around. He wanted to be able to imagine Zell's face as something less than what it was now. He didn't want to see his burning eyes or scowling face. He could tell himself, when he was drunk or deluded enough, that his face regretted what he'd done. Turning Seifer away forever, which was entirely untrue. Because even now all he had to do was call to him and he would answer. Pathetic much, Almasy?
He had certainly had enough. He'd retreat to his casually stylish apartment and sit on his couch until he couldn't feel anymore and it wasn't even saturday yet. He was ahead of schedule. He opened the door in a huff. The wind smelled like some flowers nearby and carried a soothing coolness to the sun's bearing heat. Balamb's weather was almost like heaven.
The door shut abruptly before he could step out of it, Zell's back to it. Shit, the little man had gotten better since he'd last seen him. He wasn't that distracted that once upon a time he wouldn't have noticed Zell's movements. No, he had stayed as alert, maybe more, than he had ever been. It was Zell that had gotten better and he realized he was very unnerved from that. It just hadn't occurred to him that he was in no way a match for the SeeD. He had just assumed.
"You hungry?" He asked, leaning against the door casually, as if he'd been waiting there the whole time. Jesus, he didn't even look like he'd strained himself to do that. Seifer wondered what the hell he'd be capable of if he'd made SeeD and stayed on. Who the fuck knew, because he had always been better at the stealth than Zell had. He could have probably snuck up on someone in an open plain, like a cougar.
Maybe it was that he was still upset, and surprised, but he didn't respond for a full few seconds. Those seconds seemed like eternity to experience that small acorn of regret that was always in Seifer's chest. The one that reminded him everywhere that he went and every night that he was missing something that could have been his. He liked to blame it on his fuck-ups in the past, but it was him. He was still missing everything that could be his, he was missing it regretting everything else and he wasn't sure how long he could lie to himself. Without the lie he might break and shit he did not want to get teary-eyed in front of Zell.
It took him a couple of tries to get his voice to work. "What?" He asked, his voice a deep breath, which sounded aggressive, but was really part of a well kept secret. If he was hurt, or upset, his voice would sometimes squeak. He'd talked in that voice for two and a half years until he realized puberty's devastating vocal effect had removed itself almost entirely from his person. He'd breathed easier after that.
"I said, are you hungry? Ma said to feed you." Alright, she hadn't said to feed him, but close enough. She figured he'd be here and that he'd be hungry. Hell, if he was anything like he used to be, that was true all the time. SeeD cadets were infamous for their appetites. Study Study Train Train Study Train. All day, all night, in their dreams and even in the fucking shower. A Seed cadet's life was beyond hectic and they needed plenty of food to support that. Seifer often had needed two trays to carry his lunches.
Zell kept his face an impressive blank. It had taken Quistis seven months to get him to master it. She said students would take advantage of every showed emotion, most times you needed to keep them guessing at what you were thinking. She also said it was good for field training. It forced them to look at other things you did or said to unravel your plans. She still hadn't gotten him to change his habits on a moment's notice. It was something she did regularly to throw them off. It made them rely on their own judgement. After Ultimecia, Quistis had gotten good at being an instructor. Real good.
Seifer shrugged and he stared at him. Zell wasn't the only one playing mr. blank face in the room. Except Seifer's hand had been trembling just some seconds before. He was really upset by something, but if he had wanted to leave he would have made some sort of sign. That much aggression didn't just disappear overnight in someone who'd based their own lives on it. Seifer may be nicer now, but he was still aggressive as hell. It was what he was: pushy and demanding.
He pulled a chair from the table and gestured to it. "Have a seat." His voice was flat, cold. He still was friggin pissed at Seifer and he wasn't going to let him off so easily. Naw, Seifer'd be back on him in a second and he had to stay strong. Staying strong in this case meant not caving in because Seifer looked pained. Yeah, the guy was in pain, big surprise there. It wasn't hard for most people who had only known Seifer mildly that he'd be upset at losing all his status. Shit, he had less than status now, no one would make him anything. The best he could hope for was skilled manual labor, which was what he was doing now.
Zell tried not to think about it while he put on his firm fitting red tank top, which had laid, forgotten, on the chair before Seifer had arrived. He opened the small refrigerator open. Electricity and space were expensive in Balamb, so appliances here were as small as they could be. Packed tightly into one of the shelves was a stacked container with the ingredients for sandwiches in separated layers. He plucked a freshly baked loaf of bread from the breadmaker and put it on the cutting board. His hands moved almost automatically. He'd made himself lunch like this for more years than he had fingers.
He'd heard Selphie, after the change, tell Squall that someone couldn't surive off pride alone. It had seemed so strange, her standing next to Irvine in a rose pink dress that swished around her knees, her hair cut much shorter than it had been before. Her glossy lips moving, pouring out things that would've sounded too smart to come from someone three times her age. From war veterans either. The creepiest thing about her was that the fall-in had opened something deep in her mind that made her different from other people.
She told Squall that pride was weakness and separated us from everyone else. Humans are social creatures, she said, separation mentally is the same as trying to make it on your own without a baker, or a dairy farmer, or a doctor. Some people could do it, but for Squall, it was like trying to raise crops on a snow capped mountain. She said something to him then, so quietly, that he had actually cried in front of everyone and would never talk about the experience later. He still had not changed, but a potential was there that hadn't been.
He wished he had known what Selphie had said. It must have been something really important, something strong enough to cut through everything to the person underneath. He wished most of all that he could call and ask her, but he just didn't know what to say to her. He knew she understood what had happened to herself and what it had changed between them, so she stayed away as much as possible, giving them room to grieve.
He could hear Seifer's slight fidgeting in the dining room. Only five feet away and he was finishing up the sandwiches with a flourish of the knife that was automatic, not planned. He wished he had been cooking a very large meal because he wasn't ready to face Seifer yet. He wasn't ready to face himself yet. But there they both were, waiting to face each other. Anger wasn't an option anymore, it had bled away from him as fastly as it had come and for once he cursed himself for it.
He gently laid a plate with the sandwich in front of Seifer, putting his own plate to the right of Seifer. He did not flinch when the warm hand wrapped around his wrist. "Zell" his voice was almost pleading and he turned to meet those blue, blue eyes with his own. There was something in them and he was certain that whatever Selphie would have said to him, he had already said to himself. He had the look of a fresh wound, a fresh hurt. But he wasn't sad about it, it was like something had broken inside of him and a new, unexplored entity had been thrown to the front of his person.
He wanted to ask what Seifer was doing, but his breath caught in his throat as one arm wrapped around him. His arms were as warm as he imagined them to be, Seifer's body practically radiated heat. He was like a furnace and Zell was being fed right into the fire, staring into those blue eyes. His lips, half opened, trembled in anticipation. And he almost touched them, so close to his face, he could smell Seifer's after-shave mingled with the sweat of his work. The oil and the machinery and the ocean.
When he pulled away, Seifer didn't let go, sending them sprawling on the floor. Seifer lay on his side, still clutching the other blonde close. The white of his eyes was showing. Shock, maybe, or fear of what Zell was about to do. Break his heart, crush his dreams, or maybe give him what he wanted. Because despite himself, he was pressing closer, resisting the urge to nuzzle the larger man. And so help him, he came very close, his eyes half-lidded and blood swelling his lips. He could taste Seifer's breath before he pulled away again, slower this time. Seifer's eyes had closed completely and you could see the naked grief in his face when Zell stood up, away from him.
Seifer's hair was tousled, just a little bit. Had he really done that, slid his fingers through the blunt blondness on his head. He could still feel the tingle of his heat where he had touched a cheek. He could steel feel the weight of his calf on his own. Could still feel the protection of his encircling arm. The wind felt cold compared to that burning sensation and he felt exposed and lonely. He felt that part of himself that no one could fill, not even himself and most especially not Seifer.
Zell left the room, just like that. He turned on his heels and walked up the stairs, not an invitation or a farewell. He had exited the little play that had taken place. His most painful lesson had been that he never really wanted to be a major character, just a bit one. He had thought he had wanted to, but pretending was much better than being.
He did not look out the window after he heard the door close. He settled for hugging his knees on his bed and replaying the events in his mind over and over again in his brain. What if he had kissed Seifer? what then?
What then, for sure.
---
Thank you to everyone who's reviewed (special thanks to Zierra)! It pleases me to no end that I can entertain people with things from my own brain!
This isn't the end yet! Keep your eyes pealed for further adventures with our two semi-closeted heroes quest to discover the finer moments of each other's company. cough
He had to say something else quick before he could dwell on it. "Look, I'm just sayin that I wanna make up to you for all that stuff in the past, alright?" He still had his hands held out in front of him, palms open in a pleading gesture.
"You don't need to make up for nothin." The response was a little too quick. Zell didn't want him to make up for the Ultimecia incident, he had gotten over Seifer's involvement in that, it was his feelings that he was wary of. Seifer was probably to blame for many of his really bad memories. But really, by denying that there was even anything to make up for made not a single blasted thing easier. Fuck.
"Alright, if you say so. Then why're you so pissed?"
"Oh, it ain't important." He'd regressed to using broken speech. It was his habit when he got really pissed. He'd stopped talking like that years ago. Slipping back into old habits was not what he needed. Although he couldn't ignore the irony of their role reversal. Because that barb had hurt something fierce, his face flinched involuntarily as it absorbed into his skin almost physically.
He blew out the breath he hadn't even known he was holding in a single, steady stream. Alright, he'd come, he'd apologized, and he'd been hurt. Not really badly, but it was a wound that would hurt like an infected cut. The healing would be far more painful than the actual injury. He might as well leave with his tail between his legs before things got any worse. "Fine, Zell. I'll just leave you alone."
"Fine." Even now, with his face all scrunched up in anger, Zell was still distracting. A very small drop of sweat, or water, rolled down his neck onto his strong chest. His hand absently swept it away after it had run its course between those firm pectorals. The urges to lick his lips and stare and close his eyes were equally strong. Ambivalence wasn't a pretty thing.
"Fine." He chose to close his eyes as he turned around. He wanted to be able to imagine Zell's face as something less than what it was now. He didn't want to see his burning eyes or scowling face. He could tell himself, when he was drunk or deluded enough, that his face regretted what he'd done. Turning Seifer away forever, which was entirely untrue. Because even now all he had to do was call to him and he would answer. Pathetic much, Almasy?
He had certainly had enough. He'd retreat to his casually stylish apartment and sit on his couch until he couldn't feel anymore and it wasn't even saturday yet. He was ahead of schedule. He opened the door in a huff. The wind smelled like some flowers nearby and carried a soothing coolness to the sun's bearing heat. Balamb's weather was almost like heaven.
The door shut abruptly before he could step out of it, Zell's back to it. Shit, the little man had gotten better since he'd last seen him. He wasn't that distracted that once upon a time he wouldn't have noticed Zell's movements. No, he had stayed as alert, maybe more, than he had ever been. It was Zell that had gotten better and he realized he was very unnerved from that. It just hadn't occurred to him that he was in no way a match for the SeeD. He had just assumed.
"You hungry?" He asked, leaning against the door casually, as if he'd been waiting there the whole time. Jesus, he didn't even look like he'd strained himself to do that. Seifer wondered what the hell he'd be capable of if he'd made SeeD and stayed on. Who the fuck knew, because he had always been better at the stealth than Zell had. He could have probably snuck up on someone in an open plain, like a cougar.
Maybe it was that he was still upset, and surprised, but he didn't respond for a full few seconds. Those seconds seemed like eternity to experience that small acorn of regret that was always in Seifer's chest. The one that reminded him everywhere that he went and every night that he was missing something that could have been his. He liked to blame it on his fuck-ups in the past, but it was him. He was still missing everything that could be his, he was missing it regretting everything else and he wasn't sure how long he could lie to himself. Without the lie he might break and shit he did not want to get teary-eyed in front of Zell.
It took him a couple of tries to get his voice to work. "What?" He asked, his voice a deep breath, which sounded aggressive, but was really part of a well kept secret. If he was hurt, or upset, his voice would sometimes squeak. He'd talked in that voice for two and a half years until he realized puberty's devastating vocal effect had removed itself almost entirely from his person. He'd breathed easier after that.
"I said, are you hungry? Ma said to feed you." Alright, she hadn't said to feed him, but close enough. She figured he'd be here and that he'd be hungry. Hell, if he was anything like he used to be, that was true all the time. SeeD cadets were infamous for their appetites. Study Study Train Train Study Train. All day, all night, in their dreams and even in the fucking shower. A Seed cadet's life was beyond hectic and they needed plenty of food to support that. Seifer often had needed two trays to carry his lunches.
Zell kept his face an impressive blank. It had taken Quistis seven months to get him to master it. She said students would take advantage of every showed emotion, most times you needed to keep them guessing at what you were thinking. She also said it was good for field training. It forced them to look at other things you did or said to unravel your plans. She still hadn't gotten him to change his habits on a moment's notice. It was something she did regularly to throw them off. It made them rely on their own judgement. After Ultimecia, Quistis had gotten good at being an instructor. Real good.
Seifer shrugged and he stared at him. Zell wasn't the only one playing mr. blank face in the room. Except Seifer's hand had been trembling just some seconds before. He was really upset by something, but if he had wanted to leave he would have made some sort of sign. That much aggression didn't just disappear overnight in someone who'd based their own lives on it. Seifer may be nicer now, but he was still aggressive as hell. It was what he was: pushy and demanding.
He pulled a chair from the table and gestured to it. "Have a seat." His voice was flat, cold. He still was friggin pissed at Seifer and he wasn't going to let him off so easily. Naw, Seifer'd be back on him in a second and he had to stay strong. Staying strong in this case meant not caving in because Seifer looked pained. Yeah, the guy was in pain, big surprise there. It wasn't hard for most people who had only known Seifer mildly that he'd be upset at losing all his status. Shit, he had less than status now, no one would make him anything. The best he could hope for was skilled manual labor, which was what he was doing now.
Zell tried not to think about it while he put on his firm fitting red tank top, which had laid, forgotten, on the chair before Seifer had arrived. He opened the small refrigerator open. Electricity and space were expensive in Balamb, so appliances here were as small as they could be. Packed tightly into one of the shelves was a stacked container with the ingredients for sandwiches in separated layers. He plucked a freshly baked loaf of bread from the breadmaker and put it on the cutting board. His hands moved almost automatically. He'd made himself lunch like this for more years than he had fingers.
He'd heard Selphie, after the change, tell Squall that someone couldn't surive off pride alone. It had seemed so strange, her standing next to Irvine in a rose pink dress that swished around her knees, her hair cut much shorter than it had been before. Her glossy lips moving, pouring out things that would've sounded too smart to come from someone three times her age. From war veterans either. The creepiest thing about her was that the fall-in had opened something deep in her mind that made her different from other people.
She told Squall that pride was weakness and separated us from everyone else. Humans are social creatures, she said, separation mentally is the same as trying to make it on your own without a baker, or a dairy farmer, or a doctor. Some people could do it, but for Squall, it was like trying to raise crops on a snow capped mountain. She said something to him then, so quietly, that he had actually cried in front of everyone and would never talk about the experience later. He still had not changed, but a potential was there that hadn't been.
He wished he had known what Selphie had said. It must have been something really important, something strong enough to cut through everything to the person underneath. He wished most of all that he could call and ask her, but he just didn't know what to say to her. He knew she understood what had happened to herself and what it had changed between them, so she stayed away as much as possible, giving them room to grieve.
He could hear Seifer's slight fidgeting in the dining room. Only five feet away and he was finishing up the sandwiches with a flourish of the knife that was automatic, not planned. He wished he had been cooking a very large meal because he wasn't ready to face Seifer yet. He wasn't ready to face himself yet. But there they both were, waiting to face each other. Anger wasn't an option anymore, it had bled away from him as fastly as it had come and for once he cursed himself for it.
He gently laid a plate with the sandwich in front of Seifer, putting his own plate to the right of Seifer. He did not flinch when the warm hand wrapped around his wrist. "Zell" his voice was almost pleading and he turned to meet those blue, blue eyes with his own. There was something in them and he was certain that whatever Selphie would have said to him, he had already said to himself. He had the look of a fresh wound, a fresh hurt. But he wasn't sad about it, it was like something had broken inside of him and a new, unexplored entity had been thrown to the front of his person.
He wanted to ask what Seifer was doing, but his breath caught in his throat as one arm wrapped around him. His arms were as warm as he imagined them to be, Seifer's body practically radiated heat. He was like a furnace and Zell was being fed right into the fire, staring into those blue eyes. His lips, half opened, trembled in anticipation. And he almost touched them, so close to his face, he could smell Seifer's after-shave mingled with the sweat of his work. The oil and the machinery and the ocean.
When he pulled away, Seifer didn't let go, sending them sprawling on the floor. Seifer lay on his side, still clutching the other blonde close. The white of his eyes was showing. Shock, maybe, or fear of what Zell was about to do. Break his heart, crush his dreams, or maybe give him what he wanted. Because despite himself, he was pressing closer, resisting the urge to nuzzle the larger man. And so help him, he came very close, his eyes half-lidded and blood swelling his lips. He could taste Seifer's breath before he pulled away again, slower this time. Seifer's eyes had closed completely and you could see the naked grief in his face when Zell stood up, away from him.
Seifer's hair was tousled, just a little bit. Had he really done that, slid his fingers through the blunt blondness on his head. He could still feel the tingle of his heat where he had touched a cheek. He could steel feel the weight of his calf on his own. Could still feel the protection of his encircling arm. The wind felt cold compared to that burning sensation and he felt exposed and lonely. He felt that part of himself that no one could fill, not even himself and most especially not Seifer.
Zell left the room, just like that. He turned on his heels and walked up the stairs, not an invitation or a farewell. He had exited the little play that had taken place. His most painful lesson had been that he never really wanted to be a major character, just a bit one. He had thought he had wanted to, but pretending was much better than being.
He did not look out the window after he heard the door close. He settled for hugging his knees on his bed and replaying the events in his mind over and over again in his brain. What if he had kissed Seifer? what then?
What then, for sure.
---
Thank you to everyone who's reviewed (special thanks to Zierra)! It pleases me to no end that I can entertain people with things from my own brain!
This isn't the end yet! Keep your eyes pealed for further adventures with our two semi-closeted heroes quest to discover the finer moments of each other's company. cough