Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Final Fantasy series. They belong to Squaresoft.
Let Me Make It Alright
Chapter 24: Where You Are
By Angry Angel
He had slept well that night, deep dreamless slumber not once interrupted. Only every now and then had he subconsciously drawn the figure at his side deeper into his embrace, strong arms wrapped tightly around the lithe frame that was Squall's body.
Entirely content in his sleep, he turned on his left side and didn't notice a pair of storm blue eyes fluttering open lazily and widening infinitely at the sight they were presented with.
It was late morning, and Squall's mind had awoken before his body had. His eyes stared blankly at the face only mere inches from his, Seifer's skin so close that he could see the stubble on his chin. Then, as his muscles were kicked from his dream world, he started to feel the leg draped over his own and the arm that held him in a tight hug.
Needless to say, Squall's face flushed crimson at the realization of where he was, and with whom he was.
For a minute or two, he simply gaped in horror and disbelief. How in Hyne's sake had he ended up in one bed with Seifer, and what had happened after that? For all he was able to see, Seifer wasn't wearing any clothes, and he didn't dare to use his hand or knee to back that impression up by feeling for proof. He lowered his head as far as he could, his blue eyes screening his own body, or whatever wasn't covered by the blanket, anyway. With relief, he saw that he was still wearing his t-shirt, and he felt the fabric of his shorts between his legs.
Overall, that knowledge didn't offer much comfort, though. His face was still hot from the blush, and as much as he roamed every corner in his mind for the memory of what had happened during the night, he could not figure it out. Seifer was simply there, and as a matter of fact, he was all over him.
Suddenly, Squall started to feel very uneasy. He hadn't been that close to anyone in... ever. Him and Rinoa had slept in the same bed a few times, but it had never quite felt like that. The scent of Seifer was everywhere, as was his body. The weight of his arm resting on Squall's side would have maybe felt nice, hadn't it been for the brunet feeling oddly cornered and invaded in his private space.
With much shock, he then realized that his head had actually been resting on Seifer's other arm instead of his pillow, warm skin pressed against his own cheeks.
Without thinking first, Squall immediately pulled away, backing up against the wall behind him. The dozing man at his side acknowledged his rash movements with a muffled groan, but he didn't wake up. Squall closed his eyes and let out a small gasp of relief, before he slowly started to sit up in the bed.
Carefully, his face slanted wryly at the shallow pain in his chest, he tried to rise into a squatting position, gingerly bringing one leg and one arm across the sleeping blond. He had almost managed in slipping the rest over to the other side as well, when the body underneath him stirred and Squall jumped in terror. His left foot lost it's hold while his right got entangled in the blanket, and before he had a chance of grabbing on to anything, he was sent crashing face forward to the floor. To make matters worse, he even succeeded in kneeing himself into the stomach like the professional he was.
With a loud thud and an even louder groan, Squall collapsed to the ground, cursing himself for his clumsiness and stupidity.
Stirred by the loud noise, Seifer's body jolted upwards into a seating position before he had even come close to being fully awake. Blinking, his gaze shot left and right, before it slowly dawned to him that Squall was laying on the floor, somewhat curled together painfully.
He flicked tresses of askew blond hair from his eyes and stared down upon the cursing boy languidly, before something inside him snapped. Smoothly, he flung himself out of bed and lowered himself into a squatting position.
"The hell are you doing down there? You okay?"
His hand touched Squall's shoulder, who turned to face him reluctantly. A slight blush still graced his high cheek bones, humiliation burning from grey blue depths. Squall nodded curtly, then made a vain attempt at struggling to his feet, but failed miserably.
Seifer leaned forward, one knee now connecting with the grey marble tiles of Squall's living room. He grasped Squall's arm firmly, securing him into place so that he wouldn't try to stand on his own again.
Then their gazes met, and it was as if the moment had suddenly frozen in time. Green and blue just burned into each other, unable to speak, unable to move. Squall marvelled over the sunlight reflecting in Seifer's eyes and his wheat blond hair, whereas Seifer couldn't keep his inquisitive stare off Squall's softly glistening pair of lips and the many different hues of blue and grey that rushed through his wide eyes. For the length of a heartbeat, he felt the desperate need of leaning forward and closing the space between their faces surge through him with the force of a tidal wave. Before he could follow his feelings though, the man facing him suddenly turned his head and broke their eye contact.
"I am fine," Squall breathed, his voice sounding choppy.
Seifer stared at him almost pleadingly, trying to hold on to the moment by any means, but it had passed, and his thumping heart slumped back into his chest with disappointment.
Slowly, Squall scrambled upwards until he stood tall again, Seifer all the while mirroring his movements, ready to support the other man's body if needed. The brunet looked at him, a flash of confusion passing over his features before he blushed again and shrugged Seifer's hand off. He opened his mouth, trying to ask about what had happened during the night, then changed his mind and glued his lips together again quickly.
The brunet shook his head, ignoring the questioning look in his opposite's face.
"Don't give me that, open your mouth for Hyne's sake!"
Again, Squall scowled but said nothing. He lowered his gaze, suddenly taking in the fact that Seifer was wearing a pair of shorts after all. Squall's blush deepened when he mused that Seifer was probably the guy with the best body he had ever seen. Many would say that the brunet, though much more slender, had a rather fine built himself, but compared to his rival, Squall felt extremely insecure and self-conscious.
"Damn, if I wouldn't know any better I'd say you suffer from fucking lockjaw, Leonhart."
Frustrated at himself as well as the shorter boy, Seifer pushed past Squall and vanished into the kitchen. It took him a minute to work off his tension by pointlessly shifting dishes around and chugging a glass of water before he returned to the living room, finding Squall rooted to the same exact spot and looking back at him cautiously. The way he was standing there, a much too large shirt dangling from his shoulders and his eyes all alert, Seifer felt like he was looking at a puppy who had just been snatched from the jaws of death, rather than a grumpy eighteen year old gunblader that was the respective commander of Balamb Garden.
Sighing, the blond leaned backwards against the nearest wall, fixing Squall with his attentive pools of liquid emerald.
"Do you remember what happened last night?"
Dark brown brows lowered, and the younger blader placed most of his weight onto one foot before shaking his head contritely.
"Figures," Seifer sneered, then grew serious again. "You had a nightmare or something, you were mumbling all sorts of weird things. I woke you up and you almost crushed my skull for it, thanks a lot by the way."
Squall's narrow nose curled, but he remained evasive and silent.
"Then you glomped me like a little school girl and wouldn't let me out of your bed again, so I ended up spending the night there. You were all over me, I swear I didn't know you had that in you, Leonhart."
He chuckled at the lethal expression in Squall's face. So what, he was exaggerating and stretching the truth a little, but that frown made it all worth his while.
"Bastard," Squall hissed hotly, finally leaving his chosen spot of tarrying to gather some of his clothes out of a closet and slam the door shut behind himself as he entered the bathroom.
"Tsk. No sense of humor."
He returned to the kitchen and started to prepare a rather extensive breakfast. He placed fruit salad, pancakes, cereal, juice and coffee on the dining table, right along with a fresh set of dishes.
Just in time, the bathroom door flung open again, emitting Squall Leonhart sporting a head of messy wet brown hair, typical black and white wardrobe, a pair of leather gloves and his favorite frown.
"Breakfast is served, your highness."
"Will you cut that shit out?"
"What do you mean, your royal glacierness?"
If looks could kill, Seifer Almasy would have died a hundred deaths on the spot. Unfortunately for Squall, his well placed death glares resulted in nothing but a laughing blond twenty year old gunblader that was oozing with impertinence.
"Leonhart, you wouldn't know humor if it smacked you right up that pretty face of yours."
"Don't talk to me like I am a fucking girl."
"Touchy, aren't we?"
"Fuck you, Seifer."
"Maybe later, frisky. You want some breakfast?"
Squall buried his hands in his pockets, shaking his head just to be intractable. Seifer realized that he wasn't going to get anywhere with his momentary route, so he decided to try something else. Instead of making the brunet eat, he'd just leave him alone.
"Do whatever you want, I am going to take a shower."
He trudged by the irritated SeeD, not without seizing the chance to pat him over the head once more. For a moment, he also caught a whiff of Squall's after shave or soap, the faint smell of sea and sand. It was rather intoxicating.
"Quit doing that," Squall snapped.
"Don't tell me you are afraid I'm gonna ruin your hairdo. Cause you don't have one."
"Go drown yourself in the tub," the other hissed darkly, his dry sense of humor flashing up just momentarily.
Seifer paid him an amused chuckle before he disappeared into the bathroom. The mirrors and walls were still steamed over, which mildly surprised him because he had expected Squall to prefer cold showers over anything else. Then again, the previous night had proved that "his glacierness" wasn't all that averse to warmth and comfort.
Taking care of his morning toilet ritual, Seifer wondered if Squall really didn't remember anything. His dream must have been rather vivid though, and aside from that they had quarreled for quite a while, too. Maybe his mind had just pushed the memory away because it hurt, which was something that Seifer had seen the brunet do quite often. He liked to lock up all of his emotions, which was the only reason why he was able to keep up such a perfect impersonification of pure frigidness.
'Hmph. Considering that he was crying, that sure was some emotion right there. Too bad he probably just tossed it to his pile of other emotional debris.'
He flushed, stripped and stepped into the shower. Squall's bathroom was quite big, actually, since he had a large bathtub as well as a separate shower. Why exactly the brunet had a tub was beyond him though, since even with all the imagination he could muster, he couldn't possibly picture Squall having a bubble bath.
Once the water was running, he shut all his thoughts off and simply enjoyed the heat and the smell of Squall's ocean scented soap. Hot showers were something that Seifer thoroughly savored, and he liked to take his time.
Over thirty minutes later, he had dried his hair, shaved, and walked out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel slung around his waist. He was of course trying to aggravate and embarrass his roommate, but to his surprise and disappointment, he found the rest of the apartment quite deserted.
'At least the ice prince ate something.'
Indeed, one of the plates had been removed from the table, and the stack of pancakes had shrunk noticeably. Seifer would have much preferred to have them warm and in the company of a certain dark haired gunblader, but he knew what he had bargained for. If he wanted to coax the brunet into eating, he'd have to make some sacrifices.
'He was right. I am turning into a mother hen.'
Shuddering at himself in disgust, he decided that no matter how much he did care for the stubborn brat, he was not going to baby him any longer. Squall was eighteen years old after all and had a mouth to match his own if he really gave it a try. He wasn't matron, anyway, it wasn't his job to play Squall's substitute mother.
All of Seifer's earnest resolutions were crushed to nothingness, though, when his heart jolted sharply as he noticed the open container that had formerly contained LionHeart.
It was empty.
'Fuck. Kadowaki is going to kill me.'
=To be continued!=
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