~ Chapter Thirty-Nine - Wake-up Call ~
[The Sleeping Lion, Winhill, Thursday, 30th of October, 8:04 am]
A pounding head. Thirst. Glaring light piercing through his eyelids. Drool crusting at the corners of his mouth.
The world was forcing Seifer to acknowledge every single unpleasant sensation, a sudden rush of cold air coaxing a shiver from him and the sound of nearby footsteps waking him further. He wasn't passed out in a ditch somewhere; his perch was too soft for that. Had he made it back?
Squinting open one eye, he could just about make out Ellone's living room against the blinding daylight that spilled in from open windows. He was on the couch, his legs slung over one of the armrests, his body aching from being confined in such a cramped space. Everything hurt.
He heard footsteps nearby and opened his eyes again. Ellone's disapproving gaze landed on him as she walked past the couch, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I'll have breakfast ready in a bit, if you think you can keep it down."
Not replying, he focused on sitting up in the couch without throwing up and fought to exist through the debilitating headache that threatened to tear open his skull. The moment the pain subsided long enough for him to manage a full thought, he was immediately assaulted with one particular memory; Squall's expression when he had taken the bottle from his hold. Squall had given in. Had let him walk away.
He crouched over, elbows on his knees and fingers kneading his forehead. Ellone was making a racket in the kitchen, each grating noise cutting through his jumbled thoughts.
What the fuck have I done?
Anger was quick to follow. It was Squall's fault for pushing him. He'd tried to walk away, had made it clear that he needed space, but Squall had pushed and had even demanded that he stop drinking, had yanked the bottle straight from his hands as if the man had any fucking right to meddle. No one made that decision for him.
He swore as the image of Squall's distraught expression remained stubbornly clear and unyielding. After a horrible night of revisiting memories, he'd actually managed to do even more damage. Squall had been willing to talk. Squall. Talk. To fix things between them. That should have been the first fucking clue as to how affected Squall had been. And what had he done in return? He'd fucking pushed Squall away in the lowest way possible.
After Squall had gone back inside he'd gotten so drunk, he'd just fallen unconscious on the nearest passable surface, reeking of sweat and alcohol. He hadn't even tried to put things right. And Squall hadn't come for him either. He dug his fingers harder into his brow, tried to will the headache away as he slowly came to terms with what he'd put Squall through.
He'd fucked up totally and utterly. He could hardly believe the abuse he'd hurled at the one fucking guy who'd done everything for him. It fucking hurt to know that he was capable of something like that. This hadn't been Ultimecia's work. This had been entirely his own doing.
Squall had been right. He should have stopped drinking, should have thrown the bottle to the gutter the moment Squall had implored him too, but he'd already been too far gone, too trapped in confusion and filled with an irrepressible anger that had needed an outlet. He'd seen and learned too much. Everything ugly within him had welled up and become more volatile with every sip he'd taken. But never fucking again. He owed Squall as much. And himself. He would never act that way to anyone ever again.
Would Squall be able to forgive him this time?
He took a deep breath and pushed up from the couch. He needed to face Squall, needed to give the biggest apology of his life. Because there was no fucking way he'd let it end like this. He wasn't going to give Squall up. He'd fix this and get his shit together. He refused to be a victim and he had to stop throwing shit at the one person who was actually trying to help him through this.
Pushing up from the couch, he staggered his way towards the stairs. He still felt like a stinking pile of Blobra guts and the sight he currently presented definitely wouldn't inspire Squall to feel any goodwill towards him. He needed to clean up and get his head on straight. Once he was somewhat presentable, he'd give his apology to Squall and pray to Hyne that the man would understand.
Upstairs his gaze lingered on the closed door to the guest room. He stopped briefly in his tracks, resisting the urge to just open the door and seek forgiveness then and there. He couldn't hear any movement coming from inside. Squall was probably still asleep. Continuing down the hall, he closed the door to the bathroom behind him.
He rinsed the stale taste from his mouth and shrugged out of his clothes. Putting a dollop of Ellone's toothpaste on his finger, he vigorously rubbed his teeth and tongue. His gaze fell to his reflection in the mirror, to the large scar that cleaved down his chest. Spitting out the toothpaste, he tried not to let the memories overcome him again. At least Squall hadn't witnessed him getting that scar; his second failed attempt. Shennard Canyon had been bad enough. As he turned on the shower and stepped under the spray, his doubts grew again. Could he live with Squall knowing just what she'd done to him? What she'd made him want?
The remembered taint of her touch invaded his mind, followed quickly by the nauseating memories of his own pleasure. Disgust rolled through him like a wave, pulling him under.
His hand shot out to punch the wall, a loud crack of tile following the snap of his fist. Staring at the blood in the cracks, he took several strangled breaths before closing his eyes and focusing on the soothing flow of hot water to calm himself down.
Squall would never hold it against him.
Squall had wanted to help him.
Hell, it was far more than that. In the last memory he'd seen, Squall had barely been able to kiss Rinoa, yet every time he and Squall kissed there was unadulterated passion. What Squall had shared with Rinoa was nothing compared to what they had. However messed up the memory had been, it had made that fact crystal clear. He still recalled the admission Rinoa had forced out of Squall. I can't separate my body from my feelings. Those had been Squall's exact words. What Squall felt for him was real.
Guilt and unworthiness overwhelmed him. That newly gained insight had done nothing to stop him. He grimaced as his mind repeated the hurtful words he'd spoken the night before once again. He was such a spiteful drunk. Callous. Cruel. Never fucking again.
But what the hell was he going to say? Why the hell had Squall still wanted him after seeing all those memories? He was a shadow of a man. The only way he knew how to deal with his pain was to inflict it on others. He closed his eyes, his breath catching in his lungs. Why had he pushed away the one person who meant so much to him? Again. His hands clenched against the cold tiles. He turned off the spray.
No more. He needed to show Squall how repentant he was. Drying himself off in a rush, he wrapped the towel around his waist and hurried to the guest room. Opening the door, he looked to the bed they'd shared, but it was pristinely made. Shooting his gaze to the other bed, he froze into place. No one was there either. Squall's things were gone.
His heart erupted into a thundering beat as his world was pulled from beneath his feet. He stood paralyzed as he stared at the inexplicably empty room. He'd been so sure Squall would stand by him no matter what. Reliable fucking Leonhart. Dropping his towel to the ground, he grabbed his bag and yanked out a shirt and some pants. Dressed within seconds, he bounded down the stairs in huge leaps.
"Your pickup keys," he demanded as he barged into the kitchen.
Looking up from the eggs she was stirring in a frying pan, Ellone turned and frowned at Seifer's haggard appearance. The look of panic on his face and the crusted blood on his knuckles had her instantly worried. "What happened to your hand?"
"Just give me the fucking keys," Seifer reiterated harshly, beyond capacity for tact. His eyes shot around the room, looking for any sign of them. He walked over to the drawers next to the fridge, yanking open one after the other.
Shocked by the language, Ellone set aside the frying pan and turned to face the hungover menace that was ransacking her kitchen. "Until you tell me what's going on, you're not going anywhere."
Squaring his jaw, Seifer glared at the woman. "Squall left," he bit out.
"What do you mean, Squall left?"
"What the fuck do you think I mean?! His things are gone. He's gone." He grit his teeth and stepped closer. "Give. Me. The. Keys."
A stab of disappointment lanced through Ellone's heart. She tried to come up with a plausible reason for Squall's absence, but came up short. He'd left, just like that. Meeting Seifer's gaze, she ignored his quickly darkening expression and outstretched hand. "I've got some Antidotes stocked for the worst drunks. They're in the pub downstairs, in a kit underneath the sink. Take one and clear your head. I can't have you driving in this state."
Seifer scowled at the blackmail that would delay him even further. "Just get the keys," he ordered before rushing out of the kitchen and down the stairs, heading straight for the cupboard beneath the sink. Grabbing the kit, he snatched an Antidote and swallowed its contents in one great gulp. A wave of tingling heat swept through his body, purging him of toxins and shocking his brain into full alertness. Hunger and exhaustion replaced the pain that had been pounding against his skull, but he had no time to deal with either.
"When's the first train out?" he demanded when Ellone came up behind him. He tugged his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. 8:27 am.
Ellone glanced past him at his phone screen. "First one leaves around six, I think. The next one at nine." She looked at Seifer in concern. "Do you know when he left?"
"No. Fuck," Seifer cursed, his sense of urgency rising even further. If Squall had left right after their argument, then the man would be long gone by now. "I have no fucking clue when he left."
"You might just make the nine o'clock train if you leave now. The keys are in the glove compartment."
Not bothering with a reply or a word of thanks, Seifer broke into a run and rushed out onto the town square, to where Ellone's pickup was parked. If there was even the slightest chance of intercepting Squall, he'd damn well grab it.
"Head left at the bridge, then follow the signs," she called out after him from the pub's entrance. "Don't push the pickup over fifty miles an hour. The engine will die on you, if you don't crash into crossing cattle first! These are narrow country roads!"
Only barely taking in Ellone's words, Seifer yanked open the door to the pickup and leaped inside. He immediately located the keys and jammed them into the ignition. Spinning the steering wheel around with a harsh jerk, he reversed into the square and thrust down hard on the accelerator, startling a woman into jumping aside as he sped across the narrow bridge. He clenched his teeth and kept his eyes open for any unlucky villagers that might cross his path. He wanted to reach Squall in time, not accidentally run over some idiot.
What if he didn't make it on time? What if Squall was already on a train heading towards Timber? His grip on the steering wheel tightened. Grabbing his phone, he quick-dialed the man, but it wouldn't even connect. Keeping half an eye on the road, he frantically typed out a message instead.
- Message to SexLion / 8:35 am / Come back right fucking now. Don't you dare fucking leave. -
Tossing the phone on the bench seat beside him, he grit his teeth. Would Squall ever reply? Every muscle in his body tensed. This couldn't be it. He had to get to Squall. At least he was out of town now, away from any hapless pedestrians. He pushed down harder on the accelerator, amping up the speed right to the pickup's limit as he raced past cattle and flower fields.
There was no room for thought, only the all consuming determination to reach Squall. When the road stretched out in front of him, straight for miles, he grabbed his phone and cursed out loud before throwing the damn thing down on the bench seat again. His message hadn't gone through either. His phone signal was dead and he had less than ten minutes before the nine o'clock train would leave. Fuck.
Forced to a brief standstill by a farm tractor that was slowly chugging its way across an intersection, he nearly ripped off the steering wheel. The moment the ungainly vehicle cleared the road, he floored the gas pedal again. The pickup threw up clouds of dust as he launched it down winding roads and sharp bends at speeds that made the engine sputter in complaint.
He'd tear down this rust bucket if it dared die on him. He'd fucking tear everything down. His pulse thrummed with adrenaline as his eyes searched the road for any sign of Squall. The man was a trained SeeD and would make good time in such clear weather. His eyes dropped to the gas meter. Still over half full. Squall would be heading back to Timber first. What was the stop before Baren Falls again? He could follow the tracks if necessary.
His head was swarming with panicked thoughts of following Squall all the way back to Timber when he spotted a dark silhouette in the distance, walking by the side of the road. He'd recognize that stoic gait anywhere. The fucker didn't even slow down, didn't as much as look over his shoulder as Seifer got close. Pulling in right behind the man, off the side of the dusty road, he jumped out of the pickup and strode over, red hot anger steering his pursuit.
Looking behind him at the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps, Squall blanched at the sight that greeted him. Before he could even begin to form a coherent thought, Seifer's fist had curled into the front of his jacket and pushed him back. The incomprehensible snarl on Seifer's face stirred a new layer of hurt, piercing through the numbness that had pervaded most of his morning. The man's other hand shot up to yank at him as well, nearly lifting him off his feet as he was shoved more forcefully, momentum sending him stumbling off the road and into an open meadow, his gunblade case flying from his hand as he reeled with shock. Ignoring the ringing in his ears, he shrugged his duffel bag off his shoulder and dug in his heels. Enough was enough. When Seifer advanced, he struck him.
Deflecting the blow, Seifer sidestepped and raised his fists. Launching himself into an attack, he grabbed hold of Squall's waist and sent them both rolling into the wild grassfield, his grip hard and unyielding. Squall didn't even try to wrest himself free. Instead an unforgiving punch impacted straight with his throat, the pain of it blinding Seifer to everything else and forcing him to release his hold. Coughing and spitting, he glared at Squall and went in for a second tackle.
It was nothing like their recent spars. Squall was landing bruising kicks and punches, countering his every attempt to lock the man into a hold. They grappled and rolled along the ground, crashing through tall grasses that lashed at his face. He grunted in pain when Squall managed to use their momentum to slam his head down against something hard. Enraged, he threw the smaller man off him, just in time to avoid the head butt that would surely have floored him.
Squall rolled away from him and sprang to his feet, knocking his arms aside as he tried to land a punch. Balance off-kilter, he only just managed to grab hold of Squall, sending both of them tumbling to the ground again. Moving in to straddle the brunet, he landed a blow straight to Squall's face.
Fist raised for a second blow, he froze at the sight of blood pooling in Squall's mouth, a trickle of it running down the man's cheek. Time stood still as he watched Squall raise his arms to shield his face against any further assault. Somewhere along the way the man had lost his jacket, the pale skin of his arms livid with red scrapes. A numb dread took hold of him as he catalogued every mark he'd put on the man, without provocation. It became hard to breathe, his gaze misting over as his chest squeezed painfully.
What the fuck was wrong with him? What the hell had he just done? Dropping the hand he'd raised in attack, he sucked in deep, ragged breaths. If he'd ever doubted before, he was certain now. He was a fucking monster.
Chest heaving, Squall was slow to lower his arms when no additional blows rained down on him. Pain radiated throughout the left side of his face, the taste of blood filling his mouth, yet Seifer was looking down at him as if he'd been the one to unjustly attack the man. He watched in consternation as Seifer's expression transformed into misery, the man's eyes wet with tears. The sight shocked him to his core.
Tugging at the hand still curled into his shirt, he somehow managed to muster a sense of calm in the face of Seifer's naked distress. "Let me up."
Seifer tightened his hold, not yet ready to let the man go. When Squall tugged at his wrist more firmly and moved to sit up, he reluctantly released his grip and staggered up from the ground. Squall came to a stand before him and spat out a mouthful of blood before meeting his gaze warily. He looked away, too ashamed.
"Shit Squall. I'm so fucking sorry." His voice was hoarse, his right hand throbbing with pain.
Squall stared, awash with confusion. He didn't know what to do with the apology. He still didn't understand why he'd been attacked in the first place. "Why are you here?"
Rubbing at his face, Seifer wiped away the wetness from his eyes. "To find you," he said, grimacing at just what he'd succumbed to instead. He hated every single fucking moment since they'd left Ellone's storage room the night before.
"I just…" His throat closed up. The moment he'd realized Squall had left... "I lost it," he admitted, clenching his teeth. "Your things were gone. I didn't think I'd make it to Baren Falls in time. The thought of losing you—" He sucked in a shaky breath. "I didn't mean to do this. I never mean to fucking hurt you." He exhaled shakily. But I always do. He looked at Squall then, too exhausted to care about hiding his weakness.
Stomping down the part of him that surged with hope, Squall was tongue tied as he tried to process Seifer's heartfelt words. He didn't doubt their sincerity. They were just as convincing as everything the man had said the night before. He distrusted such a swift change of heart, distrusted his own ability to deal with it clearheadedly. "I don't understand," he began, faltering. "I thought this was what you wanted."
"I didn't want this," Seifer said emphatically. "I don't fucking think things through. I act. And yesterday was too much. Feeling you almost die, knowing what you saw—" He stopped, the words choking the breath from him. "Until you, I never spoke to anyone about the war. Not once. I pushed it back as far as I could." He grimaced and brought a hand up to run through his hair. "It's hard. So I lash out."
"I made things worse."
"You tried to help," Seifer corrected, the distinction small but important. "All I did was push you away."
"With reason." Squall forced himself to speak the words that would release the man of any perceived attachments or obligations between them. The slight lift of his heart at Seifer's initial statements was already dwindling, the reality of their situation intruding. "This is me taking responsibility. Go back to Esthar. Pick up your life."
"I don't want that life anymore. I want you," Seifer said heatedly, his pulse spiking. "I meant what I said at the palace. You're the only thing that makes sense anymore."
The declaration was outrageous and impossible. Squall tried to steel his faltering resolve, torn between the injured part of him that advised caution and the foolish part of him that loved this man. "We can't always have what we want."
"Fuck that!" Seifer snapped, growing tired of Squall's martyred reasoning. "Do you even know why I came to Winhill? I wanted a shot at being with you so fucking badly, and coming here was our only chance." He drew in a deep breath and walked closer. "Don't fuck this up, Squall. Don't you dare dig it all up and then just leave me to pick up the pieces."
"What happens if I stay?" Squall challenged, his voice tight with conflicting feelings. "More nights like last night? Where does it end?"
"I don't know," Seifer said through gritted teeth, his shame growing anew. "But I'm done with going for the bottle. I'm not doing a repeat of last night or the night Quistis came over."
The unexpected resolution, so vehemently declared, caught Squall off guard. "…Good," he said carefully, wanting to encourage the decision without creating expectations. "But it doesn't change that I failed you, that I remind you of the war."
"You never fucking failed me," Seifer shot back, unable to blame Squall for anything after D-District. "And I'd rather face the memories of the war every single fucking day than never see you again. When I realized you'd gone... It hurt more than last night. I couldn't fucking think."
Seifer's words sparked an echo of what Squall had felt when walking out of The Sleeping Lion. It did hurt more to be apart. Even now this conversation was better than nothing, despite the barbs and cuts that laid his feelings bare. It was then that he realized he'd walked closer to Seifer, his body drawing nearer even as his arguments tried to put distance between them. He looked away to try and collect his thoughts without the sway of Seifer's earnest gaze.
Less painful to remain in each other's orbit than to break apart. It seemed like a poor basis for them to build on. It also sounded like a fallacy. They were both capable of inflicting grievous injury on one another. The days they'd spent together had proven that. He'd failed Seifer utterly in the past, and he'd failed him here in Winhill.
"I'm sorry." The useless words were past his lips before he was even aware he was going to utter them.
"Whatever the fuck you're sorry for, don't be. Just stay."
Lifting his gaze to look Seifer in the eye, Squall felt that he stood at the edge of a precipice. A thousand premonitions played through his mind, warning him to strengthen his defenses and leave while he still could. Only one reason prompted him to stay.
But love was pain. He'd learned that lesson well and now he had to make the impossible decision whether Seifer was worth that pain. He was still certain the man would be better off without him. Nothing Seifer had said had convinced him of the opposite, but the man remained adamant.
"You can't speak to me the way you did last night," he began, feeling as if he was stepping onto thin ice. "Say what you have to, but never like that."
The demand sent Seifer's heart beating faster with hope. "Never again," he hurried to say.
Squall fought to calm the flush of heat that spread throughout his body the moment Seifer stepped within his reach. "If it becomes too much, if you change your mind, tell me," he said firmly, allowing the man an escape route. "I'll go."
Seifer raised a hand to run his thumb along Squall's jaw, ghosting gently over the beginning of a nasty swelling. "Never gonna happen," he said gruffly, pulling Bahamut into a junction and casting a Cure.
The surge of magic knitted the cut in Squall's mouth back together, along with a whole other host of scrapes and bumps he hadn't noticed until they were washed away. Seifer's eyes lifted from their inspection of his left cheek and reclaimed his gaze with a scalding intensity. The remaining distance between them was charged with desire and uncertainty.
He nearly startled when Seifer's hand moved to the small of his back, gently coaxing him closer while at the same time giving him the chance to pull away. He didn't. The very moment Seifer's lips alighted against his, so uncharacteristically cautious, Squall felt something inside him melt. Self-preservation ceased to matter, the paralysis that had taken hold of him yielding to the kiss.
He raised his arms to pull Seifer closer and deepen their kiss. Seifer responded by drawing him into a crushing embrace, the fragility of the moment giving way to something more urgent. The testing caresses of their hands devolved into groping touches that demanded recompense for each of their hurts. They clung to one another as their lips met in a frenzied reunion.
He was breathless and dizzy with the strength of his relief, his fear of the future. He knew all resistance would be futile from here on out. He'd sealed his fate, and had placed his heart squarely into Seifer's palm, for the man to do with as he pleased. It was a price he was willing to pay, as long as the bastard never stopped kissing him like this.
Seifer took everything he could, everything he'd taken for granted. The passion of Squall's responses erased all reason or thought. He pressed forward, needing even more. Squall understood his intent and answered readily, the both of them tumbling to the ground in an intimate tangle. His kisses were sloppy, his fingers fumbling with the buckle of Squall's belt. All of his feelings crescendoed into a roar of primal need. Squall aided his efforts to yank down the man's pants, and kicked off impeding boots. Within seconds Squall was naked against him from the waist down, hard and ready.
He popped open his fly and shoved down his pants just far enough for his cock to spring free. All of his practiced finesse fled him as he drove himself deep on the first thrust. Squall moaned against his lips, the man's fingers digging harshly into his biceps. The way Squall clung to him, the man's breathing growing increasingly labored with each harsh thrust, told him the only truth that mattered. Squall was his.
Squall gasped for air as Seifer fucked him with deep plunges, rushing him swiftly towards release. He was too weary and starved for touch to last long, his body coiling tight in surrender. He breathed deeply of Seifer's musky scent and basked in the pleasured grunts that brushed against his ear. He hadn't thought he could ever have this again. Unraveling willingly, he spread wider and let out an almost sobbing moan when his orgasm shocked forth from him. Seifer rode him through it without slowing, pushing into him mercilessly until Seifer too shuddered and came deep inside of him.
Seifer didn't let him catch his breath and began to kiss him again with bruising force. Wrapping his arms around the man, he curled his fingers tightly into short blond hair, hungry for the smallest scrap of closeness. Prickly bits of vegetation prodded his back, where his shirt had ridden up, but he didn't care. He kissed Seifer back with matching fervor, their tongues twining deeply, their groping hands laboring to coax and pull one another even closer.
When Seifer finally broke their kiss, his lips trailed after Seifer's like a magnet seeking its counterpart, resentful of the sudden distance. He opened his eyes at the feel of Seifer's forehead touching down gently against his own. The man's strained breaths rushed against his lips, those green eyes searching his. He found himself staring at Seifer's face, framed by blue skies and waving grasses. It was a moment of utter stillness as they regained their breaths and wallowed in each other's presence.
Their awkwardly joined position forced the moment to an end. Seifer pulled out and moved off him, spilling most of their mess onto the ground beneath them. Gaining acute awareness of their surroundings, Squall propped himself up onto his hands with a slight wince and peered above the tall grass that had hopefully obscured their activities from any passersby. They were farther out from the road than he'd realized, their struggle betrayed by a wandering path of flattened grass and swaths of upturned earth that led right to their current, poorly hidden location.
At least there were no sheets to worry about, he supposed. Shrugging back into his underwear and pants, he tried to ignore the uncomfortable wetness of their combined release. Not all of the morning dew had evaporated yet when they'd grappled and tumbled through the grasses, so his clothes were uncomfortably damp in some places and scuffed green in others.
"Come here."
The gruff request, thick with need, pulled his gaze right back to the man beside him. He wondered how Seifer made the little clearing they'd carved out in the meadow seem inviting despite all his discomforts. The man had already tucked himself away and was sprawled out on his back, stretching out a hand in invitation.
The moment Squall moved to lie down next to him, Seifer drew Squall into a tight hold and kissed him with a desperation only Squall could ease. He'd come so close to ruining everything. They held onto each other like that for a while, Squall's touches and kisses enough to ward off his spiraling thoughts. When they drew apart to breathe, he coaxed Squall's hand across his chest and guided the man to stay snuggled up against him. Drawing in a deep breath, he felt the reassuring weight of Squall's head on his chest and ran his fingers through the man's dark tresses.
Squall melted into the pleasant strokes raking against his scalp despite his self-consciousness at the position Seifer had maneuvered him into. They'd lain close together before, but never quite like this, and he definitely had never been touched like this. It reminded him of how Angelo had often trotted up to him, begging to be petted into scratchy contentment. He nearly huffed at himself for the unflattering similarities, but he was too tired to care when it felt this good. And he greatly preferred this over punches to the face. The fraught emotions of their fight had drained the last of his reserves. All that mattered was the warm, solid presence of Seifer's body against his, and the steady pulse that was beating beneath his ear. His eyes drifted closed as he lost himself in all the sensations that made up Seifer.
Seifer felt Squall's hold on him loosen as the man's breathing slowed down. He raised his head for a better view. Squall's eyes were shut, the man looking and sounding asleep even when it didn't make any sense for Squall to let down his guard like this. Only a few moments of relaxing in his arms and Squall had actually drifted off. The man looked beyond exhausted. Probably hadn't slept all night. Seifer ran his fingers through Squall's dark locks again, then trailed them down the bare skin of the arm laying across his chest.
It was oddly intimate to hold Squall close and keep watch while the man slept. Squall had never been the careless type; a fighter through and through. This lowering of guards spoke volumes, hinting at a level of trust he didn't deserve. It should feel like a victory for Squall to allow this, yet any relief he felt was shallow. Underneath it all, he could still feel the despair from less than an hour ago. He could've lost Squall for good. It was a fucking miracle he'd managed to persuade him to stay. He pressed his nose into Squall's hair and inhaled. There was no way he'd ever let him go again.
The thought made him smile. There was no doubting how strongly he felt about it; how right it felt. When they'd set out for Winhill, he'd been dreading the end; had been willing to take whatever the hell he could get even if their end had loomed right ahead. He'd pushed Squall away just the night before. It couldn't be more different to the hope that was growing inside him now. He finally felt like maybe he could allow himself to have this.
Used by a madwoman, he'd been battling guilt and shame for years. He still had trouble letting go of those feelings, but the memories they'd both seen had made things abundantly clear. He'd been forced out of his own mind and used. He'd experienced it first hand in Squall's memory. And Ultimecia had known his weaknesses much better than himself. D-District had been a test to see how much he could stomach, how quickly he'd turn against her if left to his own devices. And it hadn't taken long. The moment he'd had the reins himself, he'd wanted out.
Shennard Canyon had been one of the worst fucking memories for Squall to experience. It had laid everything bare. Every intimate part of his relationship with Ultimecia as well as the vile things she'd made him do. But at least it hadn't been for nothing. They now had unequivocal proof that he'd been controlled. He breathed in deeply and allowed the thought to settle fully.
It wasn't me.
Every time one of his past horrors intruded on the fledgling idea, accusing him and threatening to pull him under, he clung to the new knowledge and repeated it like a mantra, over and over.
It wasn't me.
He repeated it until the suffocating pressure that had been with him since the war began to release its chokehold on him, leaving him weak-kneed and reeling.
He had been used. He may have been too weak to resist her and he'd carry every damning memory with him for the rest of his life, but he hadn't been the one to do it. Not truly. The blood on his hands wasn't his to atone for.
He breathed in deeply again, felt the hard press of the ground beneath him, the gentle breeze of the air flowing against his skin, and the weight of the man resting against him. All this time he'd blamed himself, had hated himself even, for what he'd done. He closed his eyes. The indiscriminate killing, the hunt for Ellone and the attack on Trabia. None of that had been him. Nor had he been the one to torture Squall. She'd made him do it all.
And he would never have known. If he hadn't stumbled into Squall, if they hadn't started something, and if Squall hadn't been so Hyne-damned stubborn, they would have never made it here. He would have spent the rest of his life in the firm belief that he'd been the one to blame. He'd have carried the self-loathing with him to the grave. Squall had been the one to lift his burden. Squall and Ellone.
He tightened his hold on Squall. He could have this now.
Squall could be his.
He might be a lowlife, nothing like the SeeD commander, but if Squall wanted him, then there was no looking back. In all his life he had never wanted to be with someone like this. Of course it had to be Squall who showed up and changed everything. He'd never push the man away again.
With that bit of resolution, he picked a wildflower from the tall grass and pushed it in between dark strands of hair. Squall would kill him for it, but he'd kiss the deadly frown right off Squall's brow. And then he'd tell Squall all about just what the man's future held in store. An honest-to-Hyne relationship with none other than Seifer Almasy.
Part of him wanted to jostle Squall awake then and there, to seal the deal, but he could hold out a little longer if it meant having the sleeping beauty draped all over him. Squall was definitely going to be embarrassed about that. He amused himself with plucking the few other flowers within his reach and arranging them in Squall's disheveled hair, before he settled down and watched the clouds sweep by. For the first time in a long while he was filled with an eagerness for the future that was free of doubt. Giving the man in his hold another squeeze, he found himself smiling up at the blue sky.
~ o ~
Blinking blearily as light and sounds chased away his fading dreams, Squall froze when he looked up to find Seifer regarding him with a smile. He'd somehow managed to fall asleep, trapping the man beneath him. Flustered, he pushed up into a sitting position and frowned when Seifer immediately proceeded to shake out the arm he'd had pinned, as if to restore blood flow. How long had they been lying there? Why hadn't the idiot woken him up? By the look of things, it was already past noon.
Regarding Squall's back, Seifer sat up as well. He'd let Squall sleep despite his growing hunger and the slow numbing of the arm that had been cradling Squall's weight. Not even the clamorous twittering of birds nor the occasional passing of rickety vehicles on the nearby bumpy road had been able to wake the man, and he hadn't had the heart to wake Squall either. If anything, he would've preferred a few more moments of closeness, but instead he had to figure out a way to talk to Squall about everything he'd decided on. Not the easiest task.
"You should have woken me."
Seifer shrugged. "You needed it." There was no fucking way Squall would have passed out like that if the man hadn't been utterly exhausted. He brought a hand up to knead at his temple, then met Squall's gaze earnestly. "We need to talk."
Squall grew still at the declaration. He hadn't expected any more talk. They'd brokered a precarious agreement and had sealed it with sex. For now, he'd stay. He'd already made his promise. He didn't want to think too hard and consider the ways he might come to regret it. His apprehension rose as he waited for Seifer to continue. The man wasn't usually one for mincing words.
"I really fucked up last night," Seifer began, then looked out over the fields. The panic from mere hours ago still felt fresh. Right along with the all consuming fear of never seeing Squall again. He dropped his gaze to his legs, steeled his resolve, then looked back at the brunet. "But I know what I want now and I'm ready to fight for it."
When Squall didn't say anything and just looked tense as hell, Seifer sat up straighter. "I know you just came out of a long relationship and we have one fucked up history, but I want this," he said, holding Squall's gaze firmly. "So I'm going to stay off the bottle, and I'm going to get my shit together. I've never been in a proper relationship before so I'm bound to drop the ball, but I'll do my Hyne-damned best. I want this to work. Long-term." There. He'd said it. No turning back now.
Squall stared at Seifer as he struggled to process the man's words. When Seifer had refused to let him go, he'd cast off all expectations in favor of what he could have in the here and now. Another day, a week, a month. He hadn't dared to be greedy for more. "A relationship?" he repeated, suspecting he'd misunderstood horribly.
"Yeah," Seifer nodded, pressing on. "I know you have to return to Garden soon, but we can figure it out. You can come to Esthar in between missions. I can meet you in the field."
Squall's thoughts floundered as he tried to smother the premature leaps of his heart. Seifer made it sound so simple, so obvious. Too good to be true. "But—" He paused, searching for words that wouldn't immediately have the man take back his offer for more. "I'll be away for weeks at a time."
"I know. But all that matters is whether you want it or not," Seifer said, waiting for some sort of indication of what the hell was going on inside Squall's head.
That was definitely not all that mattered, but Squall didn't know how to give voice to his misgivings without betraying too much of himself. "It mattered to Rinoa," he said soberly, remembering all too well how his prolonged absences had been the beginning of the end.
"Don't fucking compare us," Seifer shot back. He was nothing like Rinoa and what they shared was nothing like the farce he'd experienced in Squall's past. "What do you want then? To keep things casual? Drop by for a spar and a fuck when you feel like it?"
Frowning at the crude language, Squall realized that he was blundering already. "No," he stressed, his stomach dropping at the unappealing picture Seifer painted. Based on what he'd gleaned from Seifer's memories however, it was also exactly how he'd expected Seifer to view sex and partnership. The man's closest experience to a relationship was a far more casual arrangement than Squall had the heart for. A surge of misgivings made him feel queasy. How had he managed to forget about Calder? What exactly did Seifer plan for either of them?
"I—" He hesitated, but then noticed the tense set to Seifer's shoulders as the man waited for his answer. He could either protect himself and wall off his feelings as he always had, or repay courage with courage. "I don't want that, but I thought maybe you would."
Seifer sighed at being so thoroughly misunderstood, but he should have seen it coming. "Shit, I know I don't have a great track record. Like I said, I've never done this before. Before the war the only people I tried anything with were Fu and Rinoa. I never even considered the alternative back then." What had been supposed to be a relaxed and curiosity fueled experiment between himself and Fu had turned out an awkward affair from start to finish; one they'd laughed off afterwards with lots of booze. His fling with Rinoa hadn't turned out any better. He rolled his eyes at himself. "I was too damn busy chasing your ass around. Should've been the first fucking clue."
Wary at the sudden divulging of information, Squall wasn't sure what Seifer expected him to do with it. Things were difficult enough without reminding him of the messed up triangle between Seifer, Rinoa and himself. Learning about Fujin just made him realize how little they'd known one another back then. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you need to hear this," Seifer said firmly, unwavering. "I'm done with leaving things unsaid." When Squall just looked at him with a slight frown, giving no indication of his thoughts, he pressed on. "Nothing changed after the war. Not for a while at least. I just kept to myself after I moved to Esthar. Didn't really talk to anyone unless I absolutely had to. When Calder came along—"
"This is none of my business," Squall interrupted sharply, moving to get up, but Seifer's hand closed around his wrist, keeping him in place.
"Yes, it is." Firming his grip, Seifer watched Squall closely. His next words would be the hardest for Squall to hear. He would have fucking blown a fuse if he'd have to listen to the same thing from Squall. "He was the one to show me what it was like. It's been nothing but sex and drugs since then. I finally felt alive again. I don't even know how many I've been with." Squall was looking stubbornly away from him, his face a blank mask. "I don't regret anything, but Calder and I were never a couple and never exclusive. And then you showed up. After we took Avalanche together, I haven't been with anyone else. I haven't looked back since. You're all I can fucking think about."
Squall took in a deep, steadying breath as his gaze roamed the waving grasses that stretched all the way to the horizon. Seifer's hand was still closed around his wrist in a tight grip, the man awaiting his response. He disliked the tempestuous nature of the feelings Seifer's words had unleashed inside him. Part of it was jealousy, he admitted. A pointless, petty sentiment that he discarded the moment he identified it. More pressing was his fear. Somehow it had been easier to accept Seifer's insistence that he stay when any future together had been left hazy and undefined. A relationship on the other hand came with responsibilities and expectations and a potential for heartbreak that would grow exponentially the more invested he became. He didn't understand why someone like Seifer would want this; someone whose modus operandi until recently had been to party, take drugs and sleep around. His stomach fluttered with fear and want.
"Give me something here, Squall. Tell me if I'm being a fucking idiot or if you think this can work."
He turned to meet Seifer's gaze, the thunder of his heart increasing tenfold as he did so. "You want us to be a couple?" he asked, needing things to be absolutely clear and unambiguous. "Exclusive?"
"Yes," Seifer said emphatically, relieved he'd finally managed to ram home his point.
The reply was so unflinching, it nearly prompted Squall to inflict Seifer with his remaining doubts, but they no longer seemed to matter as much. Not when Seifer was offering him exactly what he wanted; what he'd been too afraid to admit to wanting. It felt dangerous to even contemplate the possibility, yet here Seifer was, proclaiming his hopes so boldly. Reason was failing him, as it always did with Seifer.
"…Okay," he heard himself say, a flush of panic and disbelief surging through his veins.
Seifer couldn't quite believe his ears, his heart erupting into a fast pace at the softly spoken one-word reply. "Okay?" he echoed, needing confirmation. When Squall gave a slight nod, he couldn't help the huge smirk that grew on his lips. He was still smiling like a lunatic when the next second he surged forward to occupy as much of Squall's space as possible. The rush he got when his lips found Squall's beat any fucking drug. He'd done it. However hard-won and taciturnly phrased, Squall had given his word. Squall was his now and he'd do anything to keep it that way.
Squall poured himself into their kiss completely, to try and quell the insistent nerves that were plucking at his stomach. He couldn't keep up with the rapid changes. Had it really been less than a day since he'd thought he'd walked away forever? How could he be so fickle? How could they be this insane? He kissed Seifer harder, deciding to chase only the exhilarated part of his feelings. Moving from his perch without breaking their kiss, he straddled Seifer in one smooth motion and rolled his hips. The welcome friction and Seifer's approving groan blew all uncertainties from his mind. This was something he knew.
Breath hitching as Squall continued to rock against him, Seifer firmed his grip and moaned into their hungry kisses. He was getting impatient for more, his cock hard with need, making it near impossible to pull back. "We don't have any lube," he spoke lowly against Squall's lips. He wanted to be inside Squall already, but the man had to be sore. He'd already fucked Squall raw once, too blinded by his own need.
Ignoring the useless observation, Squall lowered his hands to open Seifer's fly, spat in his hand and gave the man's length several firm strokes. He only moved to work free of his own belt and pants when Seifer was suitably breathless and panting for more. A little pain didn't matter when the rewards were far greater. Within the span of one toe-curling kiss, he'd managed to shove his pants down just far enough to lower himself onto Seifer's length, slowly and achingly good. His pants were an uncomfortable restraint in their position, giving him little freedom of movement, but it was enough to rock up and down, enough to give them both pleasure.
He liked this position. There was something inexplicably thrilling about claiming Seifer like this, out in the open, the sun bearing down on Seifer's face as the man looked up at him with shameless appreciation and met his heavy, panting kisses.
Mine.
The thought bubbled up from his deepest core, defying all logic or propriety, demanding that he sear the knowledge into Seifer's flesh. He moved faster, driving Seifer as deep as he could, his fingers clutching Seifer's skin harshly when the moans spilling between them told him they were both close. Seifer grabbed his buttocks and slammed up into him, forcing their rhythm into a frenzied race to completion. They shuddered in each other's hold as they came together, their breathing satisfyingly labored.
Feeling like his entire body had turned to jelly, Seifer couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction. So fucking perfect. Leaning back to take in the breathtaking sight in front of him, he couldn't suppress a low chuckle as his eyes caught on the flowers that were still arranged in Squall's hair. One had strayed from its perch and was hanging loose between messy locks, threatening to fall. Reaching up, he plucked it free. At the man's bewildered expression, he smiled. "Couldn't help myself earlier. What's a guy to do with a passed out commander in his arms?"
Before Squall could manage more than an unimpressed roll of his eyes, Seifer fished out his phone from his pocket. Squall's gaze followed his every move intently, the man's brow furrowing as he held up his phone and aimed the lens at Squall's face. "First photo has to be a memorable one," he teased and gave a slight thrust with his hips, his cock still buried within the man as he tapped the screen to catch the shot.
Stifling the moan that threatened to spill from his lips, Squall scowled at Seifer for his tasteless prank, but the bastard smirked at him without a shred of repentance. "Smile for me, Princess." And then the shutter sounded out again, another picture joining the previous one.
Leaning forward to snatch the offending item from Seifer's hands, Squall nearly tipped them over when the bastard deftly moved it out of his reach. Their precarious position prevented him from putting a quick stop to his predicament, his legs tied up in his pants. Just as his fingers closed around the phone, he blinked as several more flowers tumbled from his hair onto Seifer. Taking advantage of the distraction, Seifer chuckled and kissed him, the man's lips lingering just long enough for his pique to dwindle.
"You want a shot?" Seifer asked after one last nip at Squall's lower lip, then pressed his phone into Squall's hand.
Of course the bastard would ignore all Squall had said on the matter of photographs and do something like this. Taking the phone, he held it up and watched Seifer's smug face appear on the screen. Was there an appeal to this? He wasn't too sure, but they could definitely do better than the swelteringly seductive expression Seifer had summoned for the occasion. With one firm push, he sent Seifer sprawling back onto the flattened grass and kept the man in place with his one hand as he made his own picture.
Letting out deep laughter, Seifer tried to snatch back his phone even as Squall threw it into the grass, just out of his reach. When he felt Squall's hips move as if to push off him, he grabbed hold of the man's waist and held him still. "Wait," he said, shrugging out of his shirt and shoving it under Squall's ass. Better to ruin just the shirt than to walk around with a drenched crotch. "There," he said, his gaze returning to Squall's face.
As they finally disentangled, he tried to catch any spills, wiping both of them clean, then moved to scoop up his phone from the grass. He thumbed through the photos, a huge smirk spreading on his lips. The two of Squall were the best fucking photos he'd ever taken. Pocketing the phone, he looked back over to where Squall had come to a stand, the man busy dusting himself off and shaking the remaining flowers from his hair.
He huffed softly, loving how fucking obvious it was that Squall had just gotten laid. There was no way Ellone would miss it. "Don't worry too much about preening. She already knows."
Looking up from where he'd been wiping futilely at his stained knees, Squall met Seifer's amused gaze, immediately losing all hope that the man had been playing another joke on him. "How?" he asked, blanching at the thought that Ellone had overheard them after all.
"She walked in on us yesterday morning. Before we woke up."
Having detected nothing of the sort in Ellone's behavior, Squall frowned as he pieced together the very incriminating scene they would've presented. They'd both been naked and crammed into a single narrow bed, leaving no room at all for a plausible cover story. "And you know this how?"
At the no-nonsense question he should've expected, Seifer sent the man an unrepentant smirk. "Because she caught me checking out your wood chopping skills one time too many and called me out on it," he said, his expression growing more serious as he realized just what Squall's next question would be. "I asked her not to mention anything to you because I wasn't sure how you'd feel about anyone knowing. Everything was still up in the air as well." A large part of him had feared that Squall's theory would turn out to be a mistake. "I really was going to leave if we couldn't prove your theory." Instead he'd pushed Squall so far that the man had been the one to leave.
Squall didn't immediately reply as he realized how narrowly they'd escaped that outcome. He couldn't fault Seifer's reasons for not telling him; he might have even done the same. He frowned, unsure what to think of Ellone having found out. "So she knows," he ventured, steering clear of the raw feelings Seifer's reminder had stirred anew.
Seifer hummed in affirmation. "Do you mind?"
Merely an hour ago Squall would have said he did mind, but everything was different now. A proper relationship, as Seifer had called it, wasn't something to hide from others lest it become disingenuous and tainted somehow. Still his first reflex was to keep this to themselves. He couldn't quite imagine telling anyone how he'd ended up with Seifer, let alone how people would react. At the very least there'd be those who'd object. Did he even care about that?
"No," he finally replied, meeting Seifer's gaze.
"Good. I don't care who you tell. Fu and Rai will know though," Seifer said, an amused smile growing on his lips. "I told them I'd be bringing my boyfriend along."
Eyes narrowing, Squall knew better by now than to assume he'd misheard the man. There seemed to be no limit on the surprises Seifer would spring on him at any given time. He was quickly running out of the capacity to deal with them gracefully. "When?"
Only slightly intimidated by the ominous twitch to Squall's brow, Seifer carried on. "When I spoke to Fujin. Just before you went down on me for the first time."
Unable to react to all aspects of that infuriating statement all at once, Squall recalled the conversation well enough and he'd heard Seifer make no mention of boyfriends. The assumption had to have been Fujin's then; one Seifer hadn't even thought to dissuade. And then something else clicked. "Your bet," he said, scowling. "What is it?"
Unable to keep back his laughter, Seifer briefly looked away. "Fu didn't want to listen to us going at it in the tent. I made the argument that she probably would once she found out who you were." He walked closer, his smile growing softer even though he knew Squall was most likely battling the urge to skewer him with Lion Heart.
Not at all endeared by the stupid smile that ran completely counter to the man's scandalous admission, Squall wondered whether he'd been made a fool of somehow. How was he supposed to meet Fujin and Raijin with a straight face? "Why? You didn't know how things would turn out."
Seifer shrugged. "I knew that if you were going, there'd be no way in hell I'd be able to keep my hands off you. No point in hiding it."
Only accepting the truth of the first part of that explanation, Squall resented the matter-of-fact and confident way in which the bastard could say such things. As if there had been nothing staggeringly premature at all about declaring him his boyfriend at that time.
Hyne. Boyfriend.
Was that what they were now? The unlikely epithet managed to make his stomach lurch all over again, reminding him that their current bizarre argument was of little import compared to the seismic shift that had just occurred in his life. He might as well get mad at a dog for barking.
"When we see them, you still plan on introducing me like that?"
Seifer furrowed his brow at the thought of holding something like that back. "Of course. Might not be what I'll open with, but if Fu demands to know, then yeah, I won't lie." He smiled again, already looking forward to seeing Rai and Fu's gobsmacked faces. "You can have the Bluewhistle."
Squall snorted. After their night on Avalanche, he was cured of ever wanting another glass of Bluewhistle again. "No thanks," he said dryly, much more concerned with what Seifer's friends would make of him. Of them. The prospect of tagging along for the DC's annual hunting trip had suddenly become a lot more awkward. "Anything else you've forgotten to mention?"
"Hmmm… Don't think so," Seifer said, pretending to think hard even as his smirk grew. "How about the fact that you now have me at your disposal anytime, anywhere? I'll fulfill every last one of your dirty little fantasies, so don't hold back on me. Whatever you want, just tell me."
Blinking at the lewd offer, Squall couldn't envision what else he could possibly want that had been lacking in their encounters until now. He was certain he'd be no match for Seifer's imagination in that department. "How generous," he remarked, stepping closer. "Not self-serving at all."
Laughing, Seifer brought up his hand to curl around the back of Squall's neck and into the man's soft hair, then leaned in for a kiss. Holding him close, he moved his chin to rest at the man's temple. "This is going to be good, Squall," he said, tightening his embrace.
Maybe it would be, maybe it wouldn't. Less inclined to make statements of that nature, Squall let himself enjoy the here and the now; a moment full of promise, untainted by any mistakes they might yet make. The scent of Seifer's skin was musky and pleasing, the press of the man's hands against his back reassuring. For now, things were good.
"We should go," he said reluctantly, pushing away. He'd lost track of time, but he was fairly certain they wouldn't make their one o'clock train to Obel Lake.
Humming in agreement, Seifer followed as Squall started to head back towards the pickup. It was confronting to follow the trail of flattened grass and spot all the traces of his attack. He remained silent as Squall located his dirtied jacket in a particularly badly marred area and slung it over an arm. They wove their way back towards the pickup, Squall's duffel bag lying damp and hidden in the tall grass, the man's gunblade case tossed carelessly by the side of the road. The pickup door still stood open, completing the damning picture. The urge to apologize grew again, but he pushed it back. He'd already laid everything bare.
While Squall moved to the back to load up his things, he went to the driver's side and got in. As he patted his pockets for the keys, he spotted them still hanging from the ignition. He brought up a hand to scratch at his temple, the clear reminders of just how close he'd come to fucking it all up beginning to take their toll. He was such a fucking bastard. It was a wonder Squall had agreed to anything at all. But one thing was certain, he was not going to fuck up again.
Getting in the front, Squall sat down on the bench seat and glanced at Seifer. The man had grown noticeably quiet as they'd made their way back. He thought he understood. In less than a few hours they'd gone from deepest enmity to highest hopes, and for a little while it had been easy to forget all that had happened since the previous night. Now, as Seifer turned the key in the ignition and pulled the pickup around, back onto the road towards Winhill, they'd be taking all their pretty promises into the real world. Life tended to be harsher than a green meadow basked in sunlight.
Turning his gaze to the landscape that was rushing past them, he looked with new eyes at the fields and pasturage he'd passed by just that morning. All those hours of forcing himself to keep walking, to push down the hurt, blind to the beauty of a sunny autumn morning, and now he sped across the same road, feeling both lighter and more nervous than he had in a long time. He now noticed the bright fall colors that festooned the trees, the deep blue of the sky, the peaceful timelessness of the countryside. It should scare him how profoundly Seifer affected him, but for now he was content to let Seifer lead the way.
~ o ~