This story is quite AU, and written well past the time-limit. I just had fun with it, to be honest. Warnings: Child abuse, messing up with canon.
This is probably not to most people's liking.
Their lips locked again, their tongues pressing against one another's with a fervor; some sort of urgency that hadn't existed before was painting over this moment, and Squall wasn't sure how to make it stop, slow it down and fix things.
Some things couldn't be fixed, though.
"Let's just go," Seifer said quietly, his voice tight, fingers digging into Squall's shoulders, but there was no response. "Please," Seifer pleaded.
Seifer never pleaded.
"You're not talking about going for just a few hours, Seifer," Squall said at last, looking up at him, a softness in his expression that wasn't normally there. How odd that he was trying to gentle Seifer, when the blond wasn't the one with a collection of bruises.
"We've talked about this," Seifer began, but Squall cut him off sharply.
"No, you've talked about this. I just never said anything against it. Damn it, Seifer. I can't leave and you know it."
"And why not?" Seifer all but snarled, pulling back and staring at his boyfriend. Squall wasn't weak, and sometimes ended up more sore and bruised from a training session between the two of them than he was right now, but there was something significantly different between taking a hit because you left your right side open to attack, and taking a hit because your father was an asshole.
"What do you expect me to do? Just abandon Rinoa?" Squall asked, face pinched and tight.
"Rin's a big girl, she can take care of herself. Besides, you know he'd never lay a hand on her," Seifer tried to argue, but Squall wasn't having any of it.
Squall wrapped his arms around himself, sitting down on the edge of his bed and staring out the window.
Deling City, the night sky and blinding city lights. He hated it. He'd always hated it; he missed the crashing ocean and lone shine from the lighthouse. He wasn't sure what he was remembering it from, but he remembered that it felt safe; it felt like home.
"Don't you have to get back to your Garden, anyway?" Squall choked out at last.
"Nah," Seifer whispered painfully, kneeling in front of Squall, placing his palms over his knees. "It's time to face facts. I'm never going to make SeeD, anyway."
"Don't say that," Squall murmured, leaning down and pressing his forehead to the top of Seifer's head.
"Just come with me," he pleaded once again. "Ellone's already long gone, and Rin spends most of her time in Timber, anyway. I don't know why you stay."
There was a long stretch of silence between them, and they could hear the tinkling of glass and laughing voices drifting up from the party going on downstairs.
"Neither do I."
Seifer looked up sharply at that near-silent admission, hope in his gaze.
"Let's go," Squall forced out at last, bounding to his feet and opening up his chest of drawers, pulling out some clothes. "I don't want to spend another night here. I don't care where we go, as long as it's out of here. Out of Deling City, out of Galbadia."
That was practically a speech for Squall.
Seifer went to Squall's oversized closet and pulled out a bag, helping Squall fit his life into a load he could carry around with him in his determination to leave this life behind, once and for all.
To leave being the son of General Caraway, once and for all.