For my dear heart and an observation of hers from the gay sex dictionary.
"Oi! Wuss!"
"Don't call me that Almasy," Zell growled, as best as he was able to growl, anyway. Usually his best growling was the rumbling of his stomach when he was hungry. Seifer had to admit that he'd gotten a little better at it, and it was almost less fun provoking him now.
Almost.
"No? Still prefer 'Chickenwuss', then?"
Zell stiffened, hands clenched, already in a fighting stance and trembling with rage. Then, suddenly, he relaxed, an almost smirk on his face. "You know what 'chicken' means, Seifer?"
Seifer eyed him carefully. This was new.
Zell glanced at him sideways, "A young, attractive male."
"No way!" Seifer crossed his arms in front of him, "You're a chicken as in a small feathered animal. And you're scared of me. And your hair looks like -"
"Shut up about my hair!"
There was a long pause.
"You are pretty cute when you're all huffy like that," Seifer said, after a moment, a thoughtful look on his face.
Zell took a step back.
Seifer took a step forward.
Zell took another step back.
And found his back against a wall.
And Seifer's mouth against his, and somehow he forgot to be huffy and forgot that he was straight and had that library girl all over him most of the time and things were going well with her, and that they were almost dating. He just kissed Seifer back, wrapping his arms around his neck.
"Definitely a chicken," Seifer said with a small nod as he pulled back.