Disclaimer: -checks game- Nope, still not mine. Sigh. Japanese, people.

Aloha everyone! I'm not dead, swear! It's been a while though, eh? I just haven't been inspired. Guh. And suddenly siting in English, I was minding my own business, my friend said Canada should be put in the Caribbean sea for a map.

... and some how, I got inspired. By Canada. Thus, this was born. I blame Brian. Personally, I like Canada where it is, thanks.

Warning: Insane humor, strangely motivating angst, and a light lime

Chapter Eleven: Silent and Abstract, part one

Being quiet was something he never had a problem with. Silence, perfection. The two words he positively loved. He could be called quiet, anti-social. More often than not, actually. Words failed him miserably when he wanted to speak, and when he did, everything came out wrong.

"You'll never be expressive, and I'm okay with that."

Zell had said that to him once. Zell, loud and happy and never connected to a shadow. Zell.

He didn't want a friend, or a companion. He wanted to be alone, completely and utterly alone. He couldn't be hurt, then. But, if anything, he was a tad lonely. He'd never admit it though, not even if someone to threaten to put sugar in his coffee. Disgusting. Loneliness was natural to him, of course. But had Zell before, and now that gap was only air.

Now, there was nothing.

Stone and Ice.

"What'cha doin'?"

Soft voice, sad and small. Zell. Blond hair, clear blue eyes, black tattoo curving up pale skin, crawling. Completely Zell, and it was intoxicating.

Fold his hands, draw his lips together, stern glance into eyes full of the ocean, salt and all.

"I can't be sorry for this Squall, so we'll have to deal, okay?"

So lovely, miss you miss you so much. Freezing. Be ice.

"I don't care. Do what you want." Cold as ice.

Don't look up again, regret, despair. Hate.

"C'mon Squall, don't be so stubborn. He's. . . he's not that bad."

Hate him, ignore him.

Betrayal.

"I don't care."

Hurt and pain covered in a false smile. Squall despised it, hated everything.

"I know you don't care, and. . . and that's why I wanna help you."

"Help yourself," was the stoic response. "I'm not. . . leave me alone." Stone, be stone.

"Squall! Please!"

"Fine. Five minutes. Explain everything you can. One finger for every minute." Squall held up his palm, long digits spread out, eyes closed. "Explain to me why he's the one. . . who took you away. . . "

"--Took me away from you!" Incredulous, loud and all too apparent. Squall hated himself. "Squall, you, just. Fuck! You're so goddamn confusing!" Passionate, and beautiful. Truly music.

A sigh. Squall, slowly, got up from his uncomfortable position staring at the wall, focusing on something behind the feisty martial artist.

"Well, if I'm so fucking confusing, don't try to understand me. Get out," he bit out, bitter and sarcastic, an edge as sharp as a razor. Monotone, really.

"Sq-- Squall, we're getting no where! I just, I hate this. Please, c'mon. Just bargain with me or something."

Blue eyes pleaded with him, and truthfully, he wanted to give in, if just this one time. He'd never, ever admit it, but Zell was that special person. His special person, who he vowled to protect, but it seemed all he could do was hurt, and tear, and ruin what they had.

But Zell wasn't his anymore. So, screw it.

"Alright. One," one gloved finger in the air, distractingly feminine, "I don't want to see you touch, kiss, or whatever the hell else you two idiots do, in my presence. Understood?"

"Crystal clear, sir!" Joy, sorrow gone. Smile.

"Second, keep your little guard dog away from me. I'm sick of her." Two fingers down, and Zell was already objecting. How annoying.

"But Squaaaalll! That's mean, she's just trying to--"

"Shut it, or no deal."

Zell, easily, shut it.

"Three, if he even so much as touches me, I can't be held responsible. That's all."

Smile, bright as the sun its self. Squall stifled the disgusting urge to smile. Smile bad, frown good.

Sadly though, Zell seemed to pay no attention to the no touching rule Squall had laid down, or totally disregarded the fact that it applied to him to, and preceded in squeezing Squall's waist in. Yay.

Peeling away the smaller boy, cringing, Squall turned back to staring at the wall. "Alright, get out now. Go do Zell-ish things."

A soft, "bye Squall," and he could hear the mechanic click of the door sliding shut. He sighed, suddenly exhausted, which happened quite often around the lithe fighter.

It was just so draining.

And so he decided to always take something, like. . . crack, whenever dealing with the blond from now on, especially if that. . . thing was going to be with him.

No, he didn't think Seifer needed a better name. He was very fond of his new little nickname.

So he was bitter, was that a crime?

It should be.

He didn't want to be bitter, or silent, or anything. But he had to. Hurt, pain and sadness, too much of each and not enough love. Love, who needed love? How lovely his attempt turned out, right?

Fuck.

Squall tucked loose chestnut strains behind his ears, rolling his shoulders.

"Hey Squall, are you. . . lonely?"

Crap. It was. . . her.

"No."

The sound of boots hitting the perfectly laid tile, shuffling, close and stealth. He sighed. He'd maybe start counting how many times he could sigh in one day. Maybe.

Soft and timid, like the rest of her. "Can I tell you something?"

"What," he barked, a little bit too roughly.

"I used to be like you too, but then I found someone, someone who helped me. My important person."

"And?"

"I'm just saying, maybe if you find that person. . . "

Glare, solid and piercing. "Perhaps I already have, and I'm not quite satisfied."

"Oh. . . " Green eyes, that strangely, reminded him of the grass that just seemed so beautiful blowing in the breeze on a gorgeous day. Maybe, just maybe, he'd try being a little nicer.

"Come on, let's go to lunch."

Bright smile, wide and surprised and admittedly beautiful.

They walked in serene silence, and Squall was happy.

o-o-o

The thing about Zell is he's flexible, he loves hotdogs and he's always willing to get into a fight if it means incredibly hot sex afterwards. And that's what we're having right now, him up against the shower wall, all teeth and tongue and I'm inside and it feels fucking great.

Just, yes.

Maybe it's my mood today, but I woke up with a smile. A smile. Does anyone know how long it's been since that's happened? Too long, try the Prehistoric ages man.

I think, if he was a chick, I'd wanna marry him, ring and dress and all. It'd be cute, c'mon! Can't you see him all gussied up, with a white wedding dress, blowing me a kiss while my hand's in my pants. . .

Okay, so I'm kinky. Fucking sue me.

"Fuh-faster!"

Tch. I am going faster, he's just too slow.

Oh yeah. Hn, you know what would be so completely, cry your face off funny? Me just stopping. And I'm really tempted, too. I mean, there's a thing called a hand, and we've met quite frequently in the past. . .

I'll do it!

So, carefully, I put his legs down from their position on my waist, grinning from ear to ear while my mouth slowly disconnects from his. Hello operator, next call please. Snicker.

"Wh-what're you. . . "

Heh heh heh. "Well, it's been fun but get the fuck out."

"WHAT!"

"You heard me. Out. I've got shit to do, and people to fuck over. Plus, I met this hot little number named Fuijin, nice looks, even nicer body."

That's a lie, actually. I wouldn't touch Fuijin with a ten foot--goddamn it, the thought totally shrank me. Fuck in a hand basket.

"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!"

Jesus! His shriek was so loud, my ear popped. Twice. Fucking twice. And people say I'm loud, psssh.

I take a towel, wrap it around my gorgeous waist line and throw a spare at his face, successfully knocking the feathers out of him. I wonder if I was a pitcher in my last life. . . or a Buddhist. Mmm.

Ow!

The little shit kicked me in the balls! Oh crap, oh crap, ow ow ow!

He's walking out, he's leaving me here? Goddamn it. I look like I'm on crack, or something, squeezing myself. What if someone sees the Great Seifer?

Click.

Did he just lock me in?

Touché.

-

TBC...

I tried writing it differently. . . a good different? Please review? -puppy dog eyes- Sorry for lack of Seifer/Zell-ness. Had to get Squall all worked out. He's so fun to write.