Title: Tonight
Rating: K
Summary: A road trip to nowhere.
Notes: Based on an idea from my sister and the song "Tonight Tonight" by TheSmashing Pumpkins.
The street lamps that zipped by lit the car up in an alternate beat that matched their pace, glittering and reflecting the deep red color of the car's hood and looking like a shining gemstone. The leather on the steering wheel felt firm and soothing beneath his bare palms, and he tapped his fingers along it, a gentle taptap in the otherwise silence. Around him, the darkness of night looked promising; before him, the dimly illuminated road glowed with a whisper of adventure and new horizons; beside him, the gentle murmur of Squall's sleeping breaths comforted him.
He spared Squall a glance out of the corner of his eye. His head was propped against his folded jacket, pressed to the cool glass of the passenger's window. His breath formed a mist of moisture against the glass where it curled and spread in its own pattern. His lips were parted gently; his face was lax and free of the creases of being forced to grow up too fast and the stress that weighed him down. His hands were folded on his lap, and Seifer wanted to reach out and take one in his.
He ignored the urge, and flicked his eyes back to the road.
The streets were bare, full of promise. In the distance, he could see morning creeping over the horizon in a splash of orange and red and yellow and gold. He tried to memorize the colors and the orders they spilled into the sky.
He wasn't sure where exactly they were, or where they were going, but that wasn't the point.
Squall stirred at his side, gently releasing a breath. The moisture puff on the glass grew, reaching out as far as it could toward the glitter of light that reflected from the growing sunlight, and receded moments afterward as his breathing returned to the familiar drone of slumber, coming short of its goal.
Seifer did reach out this time. Squall's hand was smaller than his, but was rough and calloused like his, worn and cracked like his. His fingers were cooler than his own warm palm.
Smaller fingers tightened around his as Squall awoke, the glow of the sun finally reaching his eyes. Seifer shot him a glance, a faint grin teasing his lips. He didn't let it get the better of him, though.
"Morning, babe." Deep blue eyes, blurry with sleep, danced to his face.
He did grin, then.
"Where are we?" Seifer chuckled at the younger man, pulling his hand from Squall's.
"Not sure." A frown creased the brunette's face, but Seifer whipped it away with a sunshine-bright smile that made the corners of Squall's lips flickering upward.
"Where are we going, then?" Seifer laughed once more, deep and fresh and full of promise.
"Nowhere."
"Nowhere?"
He turned his face just a little bit, the sunlight catching his hair, his smile still wide and promising on his face, and Squall was fully awake now.
"Yeah."
He directed his attention back to the road. It glittered in the sunlight and the streetlamps, a black strip surrounded by trees and grass and plains. They were driving just to drive; they were leaving just to leave, so he could show Squall what he found after the war. So he could take him away from that tin can they sealed him up in, could show him all of the little places they never knew existed, the finer side of life, full of promise.
"I've always wanted to go there, you know."
