Scars: Rooftops

Epilogue

By GlitterGirl

The two lovers lay nude against the dome in the pre-morning hours, nuzzling each other’s faces and watching the sky gradually lighten from black to gray, the moon sinking as dawn approached.

"Your lip is bleeding again, you know."

"Hmm? Is it?" Seifer unwrapped an arm from around Squall’s waist to touch his swollen lip gingerly, grimacing slightly as it came away sticky and wet. "Charming. And I’m sure it’s making me look like hell, too."

"No," Squall disagreed softly. "It’s not."

Squall’s hand came up to gently cup Seifer’s face.

"You’re beautiful."

"Well, you’re biased," Seifer murmured, turning his head to kiss the warm palm against his cheek. "It must’ve reopened while you were kissin’ me...or when I was kissin’ you..." Kissing him, or licking him, Seifer thought. Sucking on him. Holding him in his arms.

When he’d been making love to him.

The blond looked down and away from Squall’s intense gaze, suddenly shy. "Squall, what about you? Did I--? I mean, are you--?"

"I’m all right," Squall replied. Seifer could just catch Squall’s lips curl into a smile from his field of vision. "A little sore... My arm hurts more than anything else." In the glow of Squall’s smile, Seifer smiled unconsciously in return, wincing in pain as his lip twinged at the pull; he swiped again at his mouth. Damn it all, why was it that only now that he knew it was bleeding did it actually hurt?

"Want a Cure for that?" Squall asked suddenly.

"Nah, it’d be a total waste-"

Squall’s other hand came up to capture his chin. "I’m gonna waste you," Squall said firmly, touching the wound with a fingertip, "if you don’t hold still."

"Who am I to argue with that?" Seifer murmured, wincing again as Squall tapped his mouth once.

"Shut up."

"Real nice, Leonhart. You know, just because you’re the Headmaster around here-" Seifer began, abruptly cutting off what he was going to say when the green glow of Cure was proceeded swiftly by the blue of Esuna. He froze. The curative magic was blue... Blue and magical, Seifer thought raptly, like Squall’s eyes. Warmth jumped from Squall’s finger to his mouth, and even as the cells of his lip rebuilt themselves, a wind swept through the corners of his mind to clear away the fog and the remnants of last night’s drunken binge.

His eyes flew to Squall’s face.

His lover looked back at him steadily, brushing his fingertips against the sensitive line of Seifer’s jaw. "How does it feel to be sober?"

Seifer leaned into the touch. Like I’m lost and naked in the dark and you’re the only light left. "I don’t know yet," he replied slowly. "But I know that turn around is only fair..." Seifer held Squall’s glance as he reached out a tentative hand, laying it on the brunette’s injured arm. "Cure," he whispered.

"Mmm," Squall exhaled a breath of green, almost groaning in relief.

He’d almost forgotten how strong the shiver of healing magic in his veins felt; all of his body’s aches and pains and fever melted away in an instant, and he was drowning in the tingling rush as his infected cut dried and tightened into just another thin, white line on his arm-

-It’s just another scar. That’s all it is-

"Squall?" Seifer insisted gently, running his palm up the length of his bicep. "Are you ok?"

"I..." he paused. "Seifer, I don’t know yet."

Squall opened his eyes, staring down in disbelief at the sharp streak of scar tissue; he was not quite sure why he was shaking like a leaf... Why he was terrified, to be exact, and why exactly this particular line out of so many made him so...so damned afraid. Seifer’s grip tightened reassuringly on his arm. "I’m shaking. Why?"

The answer came unbidden in his thoughts:

Because maybe, this time, it’s your last scar...if he stays.

He lifted his eyes to Seifer’s blue-green.

Are you strong enough? Now that I’ve given you everything, will you stay?

 

"Seifer...I’m scared," he admitted quietly.

Seifer leaned forward, nudging Squall’s nose with his own. "Me too," he breathed, "but I won’t leave, no matter what." Squall moaned softly as soft lips mouthed his cheeks, his chin, coaxing him into sweet kisses, Seifer’s weight shifting over him like living armor. "No matter what."

 

 

It had been some time since they’d last made love, and Squall yawned, cocking an eyebrow as the tall blond pulled himself upward onto his forearms. "...Seifer? What are you doing?"

"Reading," came the reply. "You know, I think every couple that’s ever been at Garden has scribbled somethin’ on this dome... Hmm... B.L. + N.K.... Mary loves Mark. J+G. Andy + Amy, Jerry and Tina forever... Let’s see, what else? Here’s some commentary on our fine faculty... Professor T. can kiss my ass." He paused. "Oooh, or how about this? I love hot dogs-Z.D. I wonder who that could possibly be," Seifer chuckled.

Squall laughed with him, brushing his bangs out of his face. "Well, that’s one definite pink slip for destruction of public property, anyway."

"Let’s see, what else do we have here...? Aw... Look at this one, Leonhart." Seifer pointed to one of the older graffito sprawling a good foot across the dome, consisting of a single word written in a child’s shaky but determined hand.

 

ALWAYS

 

"Always?" Squall frowned and craned his neck curiously. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully on the word carved into the glass. "Always what?" he asked after a moment.

"Always...together? I don’t know. Probably ‘always be friends’, or something like that, I assume."

"God, that’s corny."

"Hmph," Seifer shrugged and sank down again, tugging Squall gently on top of him. "Well, I think it’s kind of sweet."

"...Whatever," Squall smiled. He planted several small kisses on Seifer’s chest, sighing at the blonde’s rumble of appreciation before he brought his gaze back up to his face. "What now, do you think?" he asked softly.

"Now...we sleep. For a little while, anyway, until the sun comes up." Seifer’s hands brushed against his face to move his ragged bangs out of the way. "And in the morning, we’ll decide."

"In the morning," Squall repeated. He settled into Seifer’s armpit, closing his eyes. "Promise you won’t leave...?"

"Cross my heart, Squall," Seifer murmured as his own lids fluttered shut. "I’ll never leave you."

 

Do we hold on to what we’ve got?

Can we make this thing last?

Do we exist in present day,

Or is it future-past?

 

"Aw, come on! Can’t I come up?"

 

"..." The small, brown haired boy maintained his stony silence, which was to say he pointedly ignored the source of the voice.

 

"I didn’t mean it! Honest!"

 

Silence.

 

"Please?"

 

Silence.

 

"I’m not leaving until you say something."

 

Silence.

 

"I’m just gonna sit here, swear. Even though it’s dark and there are probably black widows or poisonous snakes or somethin’ and the stairs hurt my butt, and I’m starving and I’m probably gonna pass out soon, and-"

The brown haired boy gave a silent, long-suffering sigh and pushed himself up. "What do you want?" Walking across the rooftop to the stairwell, he swung the door open and frowned into the face of another young boy.

The boy, tall for his eight years, thin and blond with a sweet face and blue-green eyes, stood on the topmost step before the door, hesitating. "To talk to you," he said finally.

"...Why?"

"Cause I wanted to."

"...Why?"

The blond haired boy squared his shoulders and took a deep breath.

"Cause I wantedtoapologizeok? SocanIcomeupnow?"

"...ok."

 

 

"Why are you shakin’? Are you cold again?" At the smaller boy’s nod, he shook his head, whipped his own uniform’s coat off, and placed it around shivering shoulders, pointing a finger at him. "Why don’t you get a jacket?" he asked, frowning sternly.

"Yeah, I guess."

Stretching his arms out, the blond haired boy began to spin lazily around the rooftop. "I’ve always kinda liked those bomber jackets, you know? The leather ones?"

"Really?" The smaller boy frowned. "I was thinking maybe a trench coat or something like that. They’re cool."

The taller boy stopped spinning to gape at him. "No way! You’re too short, it’d look dumb."

"Would not!"

"Would too!"

"Would not!"

"Would too!" The taller boy nodded emphatically, scowling and crossing his arms.

The two stared at each other for a moment before the brown haired boy muttered something unintelligible and sank cross-legged to the ground with a sigh. "What color then, do you think?"

The tall boy flashed him a grin, uncrossing his arms. Shaking his blond head slightly, he settled beside the younger boy and stretched his long legs straight out in front of him. "Brown or black. Definitely. That way," he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "if it gets dirty no one’s gonna notice, and you won’t have to clean it."

Hmm. The smaller boy considered. It was sound advice...he hated doing laundry, hated the piles of school-issued uniforms on the floor in the corner of his room. It was such a waste of time washing each thing by hand only to have it get dirty again. Bad enough he had to do it once. When he was grown up, he decided, he’d have just one thing to wear, over and over-

But his friend was speaking again. "Trench coat, huh?" he murmured, blue-green eyes thoughtful. "You really think they’re cool?"

"Yeah..." The brown haired boy admitted, "I could see you in one."

"Really?"

 

 

"So what were you doin’ up here anyway?"

"Just thinking."

"About what?"

Looking at the tall boy, the small boy scuffed at the ground with the heel of his shoe. "Do you," he asked slowly, "ever get scared?"

"Nope, never," the blond answered immediately, proud blue-green eyes flying to meet intense gray-blue ones. "Well," he amended, fidgeting slightly under the gaze, "sometimes I guess." His lips suddenly twitched upward. "Quistis kissed me once, and that was kind of scary."

The smaller boy’s jaw dropped, and giggling, he wrinkled his nose in horrified sympathy. "Ew...Girls."

"Got that right," the taller boy briefly looked disgusted before dissolving into laughter.

 

 

"Do you ever wonder," the smaller boy asked when their giggle fit had subsided, "about what it’s gonna be like? When we grow up?"

"Yeah!" was the enthusiastic response. "It’ll be great! I’m gonna be a knight. I saw one once on TV fighting a Red Dragon," the blond boy danced about, waving his arm as if in the battle of his life, "it was great! I’ll go around being brave and noble, protectin’ people and stuff..."

"Don’t you have to rescue girls?"

The taller boy stopped cold. "Well," he replied slowly, "I guess I would rescue them too...but I wouldn’t let them kiss me!" His face scrunched into a fierce frown, which earned him another giggle from his friend. "What about you?"

Brown hair flopped forward as the small boy looked down. "I don’t know. Be a SeeD I guess..." he trailed off with a sigh, making the blond look sharply at him with concern.

"What?"

"It’s just that..." the boy closed his eyes, "...Sis left. And if you become a knight, you’ll leave too. I’ll be alone." His chin trembled slightly.

"No you won’t! I won’t leave you alone!" the blond shouted defiantly, grabbing his friend’s small arm with an iron grip. "We can be SeeDs and we’ll go everywhere together killin’ monsters and stuff."

The brown haired boy blinked furiously and swiped at his face with the back of his hand. "Really?" He sniffled, "I thought you were going to be a knight."

The blond boy looked triumphant. "I’ll be a SeeD knight!"

"But what if you decide not to be my friend anymore?"

"That’s not gonna happen."

"But what if it does?"

"It won’t," the blond shook his head stubbornly, "and you’re not gonna be alone. I’ll be there with ya." He frowned, silent for a moment as he regarded the miserable form in front of him. "I have an idea!" Tugging the younger boy’s arm, he dragged him toward the central dome. "We’re gonna make a pact!"

"A what? Where are we going?"

 

 

The smaller boy peered impatiently over his shoulder. "Is it done yet?"

"No."

There was silence, save for the steady chipping of glass.

"What about now?"

The blond haired boy blew out his breath noisily, throwing a look behind him. "Look, you wanna do this? Cause if you do, don’t let me stop you cause it’s harder then it looks..."

Silence.

With a frustrated ‘harumph’ he turned back to his work, blue-green eyes serious and narrowed as he carved, the little pink tip of his tongue poking out from between his lips in his concentration. Glass in chips and chunks fell to the ground; after a few more minutes, he swiped a hand across his forehead.

"It’s done!"

The two boys eagerly surveyed the handiwork.

"What’s it say?"

The blond boy smiled smugly. "ALWAYS. I figure the A and the L cause-" he glanced at the smaller boy to gauge his reaction, "What?" He frowned. "What’s that look for?"

"...Well..." the younger boy’s brows knitted as he looked down at the carving, "isn’t that kind of corny?" A sharp elbow dug into his side, "Ow! Ok, ok, it’s nice. Fine. Whatever."

"It’s better than nice! It’s perfect," the taller boy smirked, nodding to emphasize the last word, "because it’ll be up here, always. We’ll be friends, always. And whenever we come up here," his face grew earnest as he looked into wide blue eyes, "we’ll always know. We’ll know, no matter what. Got it now?"

"Got it." Hands clasped, heads nodded solemnly, and the pact was sealed. The small boy breathed a sigh of relief.

"So, what are ya gonna do now?"

"Got to go to class. Monster Habitats," the small boy made a face.

"Booooooorrrrrrrriiiiiinnnnnnnnnggggg," sang the taller boy, rolling his eyes. "I had it last year. It sucked. The Bite Bug is a woodland creature..." he mimicked, deepening his voice.

"But they live in the plains!"

"...preferring tropical temperatures..."

"And they like the cold."

The taller boy waved a hand nonchalantly, "Who cares? I’m sick of that stuff, and anyway," he grinned suddenly, eyes lighting up, "we both start GFs tomorrow. That’ll be cool."

"Yeah?" the younger boy blinked at the excitement in his friend’s voice. "You think?"

"Heck yeah!" the blond boy enthused and began walking toward the door to the rooftop, nudging the small, brown haired boy. "Just wait! I can’t wait to see what you get..."

"It’ll be something stupid," the smaller boy sighed as the taller boy wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him along. He really didn’t want to go to class.

"No it won’t...and if it is, I’ll let you use mine. Promise."

"Ok," the young boy muttered as they began the trek down the stairs. The stomp of small, booted feet grew softer as they neared the bottom, voices faint as they echoed through the stairwell. "See you later?"

 

"Course! G’bye, Squall."

"G’bye, Seifer."

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