Everybody has a Ghost
By JuniperHeart
Summary - After dynamic shifts in the world's politics and set 5 years after the battle with Ultimecia, Squall reflects on his loves and losses and what he truly needs to live again. The challenge is in doing something about it.
Warnings - Contains homosexual relationships, sexual situations, angst, sappiness on occasion, and may contain swearing. Oh and no Rinoa-bashing.
Pairings - Squall/Rinoa (reminiscent), Squall/OC, Squall/Seifer
A/N - Things get very, very interesting in this chapter! I shall say no more. The inspiration for this chapter is the amazing Bloodflood by Alt-J.
Chapter Six – Bloodflood
A wave, an awesome wave
That rushes skin and widens in flooded veins
Breath in, exhale, I've poked a nerve
He'll slap me like a whale slaps the C-O-double M-O-N
After the meeting, Squall had resolutely decided to decline the grat population in the training centre considerably, not before quickly stopping by the cafeteria on the way to choke down some raw eggs, quite literally. He'd have to vary his diet some later on in the day, but putting protein into him that he was losing during his training was a priority. The rumour mill amongst the students seemed to be rather prolific today, presumably after he was seen with a prior enemy in the halls of garden, but he paid it no mind. They knew where he was going (he had his Lionheart case with him), they knew what he was going to do there and they knew not to intervene, because he knew it scared them a little. Maybe intimidated them at least.
Squall quickly changed into his normal training gear (training boots, quilted knee navy trousers and a plain white t-shirt) and pulled Lionheart out of its case, feeling comfort in the familiar, worn grip in his hand. There were few comforts in his life, and the grats were paying for a few of them. Swinging Lionheart around a little, readying himself for combat, he waltzed out into the corridor to the training area. When he arrived, some younger students were embroiled in combat near the right entrance and by the looks of panic on their faces, they were finding the battle a little more challenging than they had expected. Maybe it was a rookie error or they had confidence beyond their means, but they were not going to get out of the battle unscathed. Squall decided to watch them and analyse their training progress, in the case that he may have to grill Zell on his work later.
The three students were doing well, managing the three opposing grats with skill, but an unfortunately timed gastric juice attack caught the archer boy off guard, and he happened to be the one with access to the remedial medicine. Skin sizzling and peeling, the boy panicked, and instead of reaching for a potion, he continued to fret. The other students then focussed on assisting him, by trying to get his potions out of his bag, completely ignoring the monsters altogether.
Squall sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically, knowing that if he didn't intervene, they would all be dissolving in acid in good time. Lucky for them that he was here. Readying Lionheart, he walked swiftly up to the monsters, aiming to incapacitate them with some artful slashes of his blade. That was before they were completely immolated in front of him, the licking flames just missing his body. The grats were then reduced to ash, which smouldered on the ground. Feeling like a child who had just lost his favourite toy to the playground bully, he too smouldered in resentment, knowing exactly the sole person who had access to magic. Only that person would show off so unabashedly like that.
Seifer appeared behind the smoke of the ash like in a movie and stood boldly in front of Squall and the students, who had found the potions and were in good health. "You kids need to be a bit more careful, now. Grats may not be the most challenging opponents, but you should never underestimate any opponent." He smirked, sending waves of annoyance through Squall. "Isn't that right, Squally boy?"
Wide-eyed at the interaction between their commander and the man who had once caused some devastation, the students gaped like fish, unable to tell exactly what was unfolding in front of them.
Squall bit his lower lip in irritation, trying to quell the rising fury in the depths of his being. "Absolutely," he remarked, not exactly sounding sincere, "who knows which friendly you'll end up fighting in the future."
Wincing at the direct stab, which sent the students apologising and scurrying away, Seifer pulled up his Hyperion to rest it on his broad shoulders, standing firm.
"What are you doing here?" Squall asked instinctively, knowing the answer anyway, noting that Seifer was wearing similar attire to himself, but he had certainly not let himself go like Squall had.
In front of Squall was a statuesque masculine figure, his shirt filled out by his ample muscles. Squall balked a little in intimidation. He had felt on par with his rival in the past; his lithe body and agility making up for Seifer's brute force, but considering Squall's current physical condition and loss of musculature, he knew that fighting Seifer now would be more of a challenge than it ever had been before. He wouldn't need to resort to dirty fighting tactics to overpower Squall, in any case. He was just thanking his lucky stars that he had kept up with his training, and he had improved over the years. Not that he wanted to fight Seifer again in any way.
"Becoming acquainted with the facilities I'll be using to teach." Seifer peered down at the ash blowing away in front of him. "Speaking of which, I have not seen a single T-rexaur in here yet. Did they die out?"
Squall laughed, looking away with a wry smile. "I had some part to play in reducing the numbers. Which leads me to delegate an important task to you. It will be your responsibility in procuring more T-rexaur."
The blonde sighed and chuckled. "You must really hate me huh."
"Yeah, pretty much." Squall commented, fingers tightening around the grip of Lionheart, itching to unleash devastation on some monsters. This conversation was making him impatient. "Right, now that is out of the way, I won't get in your way."
Squall turned and aimed to make his way back to the right entrance to enter the other one. That way Seifer would have one half of the area and he would have his own peaceful half.
"Wait, Squall," Seifer called out just as Squall had started to make his way out.
Squall looked over his shoulder. "What is it now?"
Hyperion shone as Seifer swung it down off his shoulders. "How about a duel? You know, for old time's sake?" He held his gunblade in his all too familiar manner, signalling a silent challenge.
Squall was stung by a few feelings; like he really did not want to fight Seifer again, but something within him was egging him on. Then there was the physical inequality. He would really have to work hard to get through this one.
"Oh? After everything, you want to fight me again? Don't you remember what happened the last few times?" Squall goaded, unable to resist.
Seifer's grin broadened in a way that led Squall to believe he was actually finding this interaction rather pleasurable. Sadistic fuck.
"By the look of you now, I don't think you'll provide much of a challenge anymore." Seifer sneered and positioned his blade out to the front of him one-handedly, pointing the tip at Squall.
Memories of that stance flooded back to Squall and simultaneously the rage within had reached critical point, threatening to overflow.
"Don't ever underestimate your opponent. That's what you said, right? Well, today I'm going to cut that message into your flesh." Squall held his gunblade in position, reading to do exactly that.
Seifer drank in the sight. Squall was standing there, black rimmed yet passionate eyes, and the look of absolute murder on his face. Nothing made him more fired up than Squall fired up. He knew it was tough to get Squall to feel so intensely, and the fact that he was able to do that fulfilled an aching desire that he had held onto for a very long time. He had ownership of this type of situation, and he couldn't wait to relive it.
The two stood silent for a time. Normally Seifer would act first, but this time he would wait for Squall to come to him. To attack him. To feel anger at him. To want to hurt him.
It did not take long for Squall's impatience to wear thin. Gritting his teeth, he rushed at Seifer aggressively, showing Seifer he was aiming for a high attack, but really aiming for a side slash. Seifer could read that attack though, and was too fast for him as he dodged swiftly out of the way, curling around Squall's body and striking for his side. The brunette parried the attack and leapt back, recoiling from the close call. This was going to be a challenge.
Seifer was too giddy as they fell back into their dance. Squall's style had not deviated considerably over the years, but the one thing he had not counted on was Squall's more berserk attitude. He was taking more risks with his swings, leaving himself open more than he usually did, but always managing to block Seifer's attacks. This was the fighting of a desperate man, his eyes crazed and wild and his dark, longer hair flowing about his face in a flurry.
Squall was impressed, but not completely satisfied. As much as he hungered to demolish his rival, he didn't think he was getting anywhere any time soon. Seifer had improved considerably, but was more predictable than he was 5 years ago. At least he hadn't resorted to his dirty fighting like what used to be his penchant, and was the cause of the facial scarring in the first place. The lunges the brunette was pushing toward Seifer were surprising the man, he knew. A lot more was at stake here. Despite the war's horrors, he had not had a lot to provide conviction for his fighting until now. He knew that if he didn't win this fight, he wouldn't be able to live with himself any longer.
Unbeknownst to Squall, a crowd had gathered to watch the battle, the rumours of their reunion and subsequent duel spread across garden at lightning speed. Seifer found himself blocking more, despite himself, and more for the benefit of the audience. According to their jeering, they wanted Squall to win pretty intensely. While he knew that they were still evenly matched, he needed to throw the fight. Squall would know and he would be pretty fucking pissed about winning that way, but he needed to humble himself, especially in front of his future students.
So he became clumsier with his fighting, feigning exhaustion, and let barrage after barrage of attacks knock him off guard. A particularly hard strike knocked him onto his back, which hit the ground with a solid 'thud'. Groaning, winded from the impact, Seifer was expecting that to be it. He had lost the fight. Time to get up and move on. However, solid legs straddled his waist and cold metal pressed against his throat.
Blinking, Seifer tried to read Squall's face hovering above his. It was demonic, savage, predatory, his normally solemn eyes wide and burning. Sweat was dripping down the side of his face, accentuating the jagged bone structure of his thinner face. One bad move and Seifer felt he could definitely perish here; a quick movement and his jugular would be bleeding out onto the ground. He didn't think anyone here would heal him.
"You fucker. This was supposed to be a fair fight." Squall spat and pressed the blade harder into Seifer's throat.
The blonde would have gulped if it weren't for the fact that could end his life.
Squall despised him for this. In the whirlwind of emotions in his brain, he could definitely pick out hatred. A good part of him wanted to slash his throat. A very large part of him, actually. But something was stilling his blade. Another part of him didn't want to hurt him. It wasn't a peaceful emotion, it was just as intense as everything else that had driven him on, but he was in desperate need of something. If it wasn't Seifer's death, then what the fuck was it?!
"I yield." Seifer managed, pinned by Squall's death grip. Raising his eyes to Squall's, he saw turmoil, the beauty and identity of which he understood too well. "I yield to you."
As if pulled out of his reverie by Seifer's startling green eyes and brave statement, Squall pulled his blade away and staggered off Seifer's body, visibly shocked by the altercation. Trying to speak, but not able to, he continued to stagger out of the training area and away from the crowd.
Seifer sat up and turned, hiding the evidence of the encounter that he was surprised Squall hadn't seemed to feel, positioned where he was.
"Fight's over," he yelled back to the students, "get out of here."
The students seemed to jump in place collectively and then scurried away like frightened rats.
Seifer sighed, rubbing his neck and feeling the indentation of the blade. There were some things he was going to have to own up to. Fighting with Squall today had definitely not helped the feelings he had tried to hide away over the years, once he had figured out what they were.
It was looking like he was going to have to take out the rest of his frustration on the grats in the distance, because it was not going away thinking about Squall like this. He understood why Squall liked this place, now.
Squall immediately retreated to his quarters, not bothering to change but only bothering to collect his things. He initially ignored the murmuring of the students, but then ordered them to go back to lunch break after the whispering finally broke him down. His heart hammered in his ribcage, even when he reached his room and strode quickly into the bathroom. Two seconds later, he was in the shower, forehead against the wall and mulling over events passed. The battle had gone by in a blur, fuelled with rage and vengeance and… then Seifer had let him win. He had let him knock him down. Squall flushed, despite himself. He had just straddled Seifer without thinking and had threatened death upon him. He had looked so… defeated. Like he was wishing for death and/or forgiveness. Squall jolted when he remembered the look in Seifer's eyes. Hungry for closure, hungry for…"
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Squall exclaimed and punched the wall with his fist.
His anatomy wasn't working as he'd liked it to; at least that's what he told himself. Then again, he had not been graced with such a reaction for a very long time, given his depression.
No. What the fuck are you thinking? Squall berated himself. Despite the yearning for physical contact with anything, Squall reminded himself why he had gotten hard. It had been an intense fight and his body was playing tricks with him, that's what was going on.
Anxiety was racing, and as he was desperate to relieve it, Squall gave in to temptation and tried to empty his mind as he reached down his torso. His stomach muscles twitched as his hands reached their destination. Slick from the water, satisfaction was easy to obtain, and Squall found himself moaning into the wall, increasingly louder as he rushed to find satisfaction.
Seifer's eyes weren't leaving his head, to his utter frustration, but they weren't making his job any harder. Memories from the fight only spurred him on closer to the finish line. Squall's legs buckled and threatened to give out as the waves of pleasure crashed through him. Before he knew it, he was releasing onto the shower wall, his breaths short and ragged.
I yield.
Squall twitched in an aftershock, sliding down the shower wall.
For the first time in years, Squall felt alive.
