To Trust A Cop

Beta: None as of yet
Note: I’ll warn you right away, I’m not entirely satisfied with this piece.
But don’t let it stop you from reading and then tell me all about it.

I realise that some of you may think Squall is too lenient. Though after this chapter I hope both you and Seifer will realise just exactly what ticks him off ;)


11

It was dark outside and the clouds promised rain. Squall didn’t care. He wasn’t supposed to go out anymore that day anyway. His hands and mind was occupied with drawing.

He could practically hear the screeching of the phoenix he was painting. He had caught it in flight. Fire coloured wings stretched wide, long throat pointed to the electrical sky and the long tail swiping the stone ground it just left.

Of course, it was all just charcoal right now. The colour would come later. It was how he built the paintings. See them, hear them, draw them. It had always been that simple and easy. Peace was once again starting to fill him as he was crawling back out of that ugly slump.

He lifted his hand and eyed the picture critically. He was done with the first part, everything left was colouring. But he didn’t have the colours he wanted. Squall would have to go out and hunt it down. When it came to colour he was very picky about what it was. Who had made them, which pain combination it was and so on. Red seemed to be just red, but it came in hundreds of shades just as every other colour.

He put it away in a folder after having fixed the charcoal and took down other folders with half finished paintings. Opening one, a picture of two males fell out. Picking it up, the brunet’s lips tightened. It was a picture that resembled Seifer and him in a compromising situation. One of those he had done when deep down in the slump.

He put it aside and eyed the other pictures with the same theme. He had contemplated burning them that night he got home. He hadn’t, which was fortunate. It was good pictures and he tended to save everything he did; which was the reason for some of the boxes littering the apartment. Not all was filled with drawings of course.

Looking at the pictures had made rage boil inside him before. But a month later it had slipped away. He usually didn’t hold on so long to a grudge, though this had stung extra sharp. It always did when he felt his integrity had been threatened. Such a thing had ended one of his earlier relationships. He snorted. That had so been such a wonderful relationship too.

He put them away and sighed. A month had given him peace and opportunity to analyse the thing. Squall couldn’t ignore the fact that he was… intimidated. He was reacting out of fear more than anything else. He didn’t like having people poke in his life because it threatened his control. The blond had succeeded to stroke him the wrong way because Squall allowed it. That would not happen again.

Why should Squall care if the cop knew where he lived and worked and all that? Let him. He’d kick his ass when given opportunity. Squall smirked grimly. He really regretted he hadn’t given the man two or more punches that night. Maybe it would have allowed him to… forgive the man.

Squall groaned and rose to stretch. He walked over to the window and glared at the grey sight outside. It wasn’t like he missed the bastard, was it? Then again, the sex had been good. It was hard to find good sex and even harder to find this kind of… relationship.

He wasn’t one for all that lovey dovey things. Not any more. A lover was just trouble. Heartache and headache. Two big H. A fuck buddy was much more convenient. Maybe Seifer had just showed him what Squall really wanted? Something easy and uncomplicated?

The brunet bit his nail. Why did he let it bother him so much? The man was a cop. It lay in his nature to want to know everything about another person, especially one he fucked. He guessed he could forgive the man. Squall didn’t wish to be controlled by stupid, childish fears that had everything with childhood to do and had nothing with adulthood to do. He should shrug it off and be rid of it. It was a weakness after all.

But it grated at his every nerve and made his teeth grind together at the arrogance of the other. That he took so lightly at it. Squall didn’t expect him to he as respectful as a lover, but at least give him something. Suddenly the door bell rang and he jumped high.

Squall stared at the door. He looked at the watch at the wall and noted that the time was exact. The cop had started to show up at a specific time every fucking night the last one and a half week or something. He’d harass the bell and door half an hour or longer before going away. In the beginning he had threatened with using his badge to get inside. To Squall’s relief he hadn’t gone through with the threat.

The bell rang again and started into one of the melodies the cop seemed fond of. For a moment he was ready to pout and say fuck it and turn away. Then the door was knocked.

Not the harsh demanding thing and no shouting. It made the youth want to believe it was an asking thing. He closed in on the door, stomach suddenly knotted. If he allowed the man back, that would mean something right? Or would it? He stopped in front of the door with crossed arms, eyes distant and eyebrows furrowed.

Maybe he could give the bastard a chance? If he behaved nicely and not so arrogantly, just maybe Squall could consider letting the cop touch him again. Maybe he could keep another distance to him? Be able to set his own pace and rules. Somehow Squall wasn’t too sure he’d be able to. His hand hovered over the lock and handle.

How to do? What to do? Demand an apology? Yeah, that would be a good thing. A little humanity wouldn’t hurt the brute. Determinate and having all priorities straight in his head, he yanked the door open. He was sure to have an icy expression and crossed his arms once the door was open.

He was surprised to not see the blond sneer or glare. He received a thin smile instead, though it looked painful on the blond. Otherwise, he couldn’t read anything from the man, but he was sure this would turn ugly any second.

“Thought I was someone else?” The cop asked with an emotionless voice.

“No.” He answered with just as controlled a voice.

He narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin just slightly.

“I opened to tell you to fuck off.” He said coldly. Seifer didn’t seem surprised.

“Don’t jump to conclusions. I got a surprise for you. Get dressed, we’re going down town.” The cop said without a sign at irritation. Rather he knew he deserved it.

Squall almost showed his teeth in a feral grin and glared at the man, anger quickly building.

“You’re a stupid one, aren’t you? You think I’ll let you do anything after that?” He growled and was met with an expressionless face.

“I know I screwed up with that stunt. Won’t happen again, so come on.” The cop said a little defensive but obviously put effort in not to sneer or snap.

The brunet grinded his teeth the way he did every time he got angry.

“Not good enough.” He said coldly and a little glare entered the green eyes.

The marked jaw twitched and the broad shoulders tensed. Squall knew the sign of anger and steeled himself for the confrontation. Almasy seemed to exhale deeply.

“You didn’t get hurt and seemed to like it.” He said with controlled anger.

Squall stared at the man. He wanted to growl something hotly but kept his temper and tongue to eye the man. His fingers were biting into his own arms in frustration. The blond made some irritated sound and shifted his footing and ruffled the blond strands.

“So I went a little far, but you were pleasured, why are you making such a big deal of it? I regret it, is that what you want to hear?” The blond growled, obviously not accustomed to apologise.

Squall stared at the man, the gears in his head clicking into place. Did the cop believe this was a sexual thing? Hyne! Squall wasn’t so squeamish with his body!

“You idiot. I said my life is none of your business and yet you take liberties.” He muttered dryly.

The cop looked confused for a second; then something amused entered the green eyes and the smirk at that just intensified the expression.

“Have you been shutting me out for a month because I followed you?” He asked rather softly.

Squall thinned his lips and just stared into the green eyes. They were unreadable, but he was relieved the man didn’t act like a bastard.

“My bad, most people get flattered that I go to such extremes, but of course you’re the exception to the rule.” He leered.

Squall snorted,”If you want to get anywhere close to touching me again, you better get a grip.”

The cop eyed him and the youth was afraid he would laugh and belittle the brunet like he had done a couple times before. Granted, it hadn’t been humiliating or so, just an irritating ability the blond had. As the silence stretched and those green eyes studied him, he became more and more self-conscious.

He hadn’t thought the brute was one for studying silences and it unnerved him. As if the green eyes could peel away all his layers and read the very core of his soul. Then Almasy looked away and took a deep breath, seriousness all over his face.

“Should have known you weren’t some easy punk…”

Squall arched an eyebrow and got the green eyes back on him.

“I know my limits this time. Surely you don’t want to miss the fabulous sex, right?” He asked with the trademark grin and Squall rolled his eyes.

The youth couldn’t help but feel his anger dissolve. He’d never been very good at holding grudges. If he needed emotions, such as anger, they came and gave him fuel when needed. Like in a fight. But that was it. He pushed such uselessness aside after. They were just problem. The cop seemed to understand the problem and seemed willing to change some attitude. It was what Squall had wanted, yes?

“I still have a surprise for you. Change into something else and come along.” The cop murmured, much more relaxed now.

The brunet narrowed his eyes and eyed the man. He tried to gauge what kind of lovely surprise it could be, but of course it was impossible. Just because he was ready to try this again, didn’t mean he was ready to jump into bed just yet. Something told him he needed to make this clear to the man.

“You don’t need to bring money or anything. I’ll treat you to something you’ll like.” The blond promised.

That remark made the youth even more suspicious. He didn’t like the feeling as if he was a woman the man tried to woe back into bed. Or maybe he did? Squall could make the blond buy something really expensive in apology. Like those wings he’d been drooling over to his bike.

“Wait outside.” He growled and ignored the victorious smile on the blond.

He was an idiot that went into this again. Hadn’t he told himself it was a good thing to be rid of the nuisance?

While he mulled over this question he dressed in the few fine clothes he had. The leather pants, though he wore them often enough to soon have worn them out, a black mesh that clung to his torso and that had no arms whatsoever but a high neck, hiding his throat.

To that he took on all his six belts, three around his hips and three around his right thigh. He hooked two chains in the belts around his hips from front to back. He also took on a pendant he had done in school when he still attended it. Studying it he felt… childish.

He never dressed up but right now he wanted to. The way he dressed now, was how he had when in school. When he had too confront kids his age that loved to make a fool out of him. The blackness and belts and then his bike intimidated others even before he opened his mouth. He knew the clothing style was a way for him to find some steady ground.

He took on heavy boots he had to unpack from a box before taking up a leather jacket. A very fine one with fake white fur around the collar. The leather jacket he daily wore was fake leather. Most of his clothes was fake or bought as stolen goods, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t the one who had stolen them.

Stepping out of his apartment and locking the door, he made sure to hold the cold expression as he turned to the cop. Green eyes were wide and they took in his form like a lunatic. He weighted at one hip and crossed his arms, raising his chin in defiance.

“Where’d you get those clothes from?” The blond asked with a roughened voice.

“None of your…”

“…business, right. Did you happen to belong to a gang before or something?” The cop asked and it was a sincere question.

They started walking downstairs. The youth was unsure how to answer.

“I don’t care if you have, I’m just aware of your economy and those clothes and that bike didn’t come cheap.” The cop said silently.

Green eyes captured him and Squall was unnerved by the intelligence in them. The brut side of the cop often made you forget that this blond actually seemed to have a brain behind it all.

“Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t. Don’t sniff around.” He warned and Almasy held his gaze a little longer.

“I won’t, I’ve learned my lesson.” He smirked and held the front door as Squall walked through.

Seifer had his civil car and Squall slipped into the front seat. The brunet became very aware of what an awkward couple they made. The cop was dressed in blue demin and that sued jacket and some navy blue shirt that was open by the throat. Simple but still it made the blond look good. In fact, Squall was sure the plainness of the clothes only enhanced the man.

They rode in silence for a while. Until Squall became aware of that they closed in on parts of the city he rarely entered. The good parts. The expensive parts. The parts where a young lonely girl could walk safe at night. It made him uneasy. He didn’t understand it or the people living here. It was like coming to a different country or another planet.

“Where’re we going?” He asked and made sure to shield his unease.

“Some new place.” The cop answered cryptically.

The youth eyed the man. He couldn’t help the building tumult of excitement and nervousness.

“No games. I’m in no mood to met any of your friends or get tied up.” He warned with narrowed eyes, but the cop smirked.

“Sure, no games, that’s a promise.” Seifer answered amused.

The brunet started to wonder if maybe he was going to get treated to some fancy restaurant. Maybe it was the blond’s way of apologizing? He had obviously planed this before coming to Squall. The thought of getting treated to a movie and dinner made the brunet amused, because he found himself enjoying it.

Even if it was girlish it somehow amused him that the cop would go to such lengths. A movie wouldn’t be completely bad either. It was ages since he’d seen a movie at a cinema.

The cop pulled into some car park and parked in a lot not far from the entrance in a lightened place. Probably to secure it somewhat from thieves. Squall didn’t recognise anything. He was somewhat awed of the clean streets, whole windows and street lights and the look of people.

He felt out of place. When they walked the walkways, people stared at him. An older couple with a dog took ways around them as if they expected him to jump them. The brunet wasn’t unaccustomed to getting looks and being stared at but the disgust and distrust and wariness he received made him feel uneasy.

“What are we doing here?” He asked the taller man, not hiding his unease.

“Relax.” The cop encouraged.

They walked up a block and turned right. In the middle of this block there was a large gathering of people by some light sparkling boutique or something.

Walking closer, Squall could read the sign. “Gallery Blue Magic”. His heart jumped. That was a gallery owned by none else than Quistis Trepe. His idol. She had newly bought it and obviously opened it. He hadn’t known when it was due to open, just that it was now sometime.

When he could get his hands on any article about the artesian, he bought it. He loved her paintings. They were his lead star. As they closed in he couldn’t help but ogle the windows for her paintings. Other people did the same. He frowned at the masses. Was it so newly opened? Often a gallery had its rush at opening, and then it’s only customers were people who wanted to buy something or tourists that had never seen it before.

The youth bumped into the blond as the man had suddenly veered of track for the entrance. The blond looked down at him amusedly. He was handed a ticked and he stared dumbly at it.

“You like galleries, right? I know it’s the second day of opening, so a lot of the drawings can have been sold already. She’s quite popular after all.” He grinned.

Squall was dumbstruck. He could just follow the blond as this took the lead. He was frozen inside of himself. His heart was beating hard and sweat started to break out all over his body. Was this true? Had he the ticket to the second day of opening in his hand?

He hadn’t fully understood it even as he had past the security guard and showed his ticked for two people and stood in the foyer staring at an impressive seven foot tall deer complete in crystal. Squall was fighting to get back his bearings, but it was hard when delayed excitement started to rush inside him.

He got to see the opening of Trepes newest gallery! The second day, yes, but it was more than he’d ever done before or could have asked for. The gallery had two floors, the foyer stretched from bottom to the ceiling at the second floor and gave a gigantic feeling to the place. It was a style Trepe used for most of her galleries that had two floors.

Add the white colour and sparkling crystal floor and all the lights and you had a gallery that in itself was a piece of art. It was parted in a lot of sections with ranging art. From sad and gloomy, to light and heartfelt to that twisted abstract thing. Squall blinked up at the blond as this boxed his arm.

“Don’t tell me you don’t appreciate art though you’re an artist.” He said moodily, apparently taking Squall’s silent awe for something else.

“Do you know what these tickets cost?” He asked breathlessly, only now himself realising what he hold in his hand.

“Of course I do, I bought them.” The cop muttered and furrowed his brows.

Apparently Squall’s wide eyed stare and awe shining face was enough to curb the cop’s suspicions of him not liking it.

“Come on, I’m no good at art, tell me what’ so good at a little paint on a canvas.” The blond nudged him toward the first section of paintings.

The place was swarming with people. Most who looked to be high class and most looked like they knew everything about art. Most also looked at both Squall and Seifer as if they had been dragged in by the cat. Squall didn’t care. He was delirious.

Trying to restrain his excitement was impossible. He was like a child let loos in the toy store close to Christmas. His senses were running wild, like a sponge surrounded by the ocean. He sucked in every sensation. From the eye watering sight of the paintings and statues, to the smells of paint and the snacks offered, to the noises of people talking.

Drawings, statues and paintings he had only read about and seen a picture of were right in front of him. He could smell and touch them. The thought of him being able to touch something the talented woman had made had his head reeling. He knew he was glowing like a fool and he knew he was babbling like one.

Squall didn’t care. This was something he knew much about, something he had thought was unattainable. A dream coming true. The cop was an amused and silent spectator around him. The brunet couldn’t get enough of the place. They slowly made their way around the bottom. In the last section he found a painting that drew him in like a moth to fire. Why, he couldn’t understand, which fascinated him.

He was intensely studying the painting completely drawn in grey, black and white except one blue flower when the blond nudged his side.

“Who’s that?” He asked and showed at a group of people who obviously were important.

Squall sucked in his breath and he had to blink dizziness from his head. In the middle of attention in the group stood a blond woman. She was dressed in black clothes that were as much art as the paintings. Her blond hair was caught in a bun in the neck and adorned with artful jewellery. Two strands hung lose around her face and artful glasses. Her whole being spoke business and strict order. As beautiful as her art and just as unattainable.

“Quistis Trepe.” He whispered in awe.

He had seen her photo countless of times and had some saved among his articles about her art. Seifer hummed and sipped at the punch that was offered. There was one with alcohol and one without. Squall didn’t know what the blond had chosen.

“Go talk to her, praise her good work.” Almasy suggested and the mere thought of it made Squall whiten and feel weak.

“No, I rather look at the paintings.” He said weakly and turned away.

Having a dream fulfilled was enough. Having something impossible like that thrust upon him in the same night would quickly send him to a mental hospital. The cop chuckled.

“I do think our kitten is shy.” He murmured.

Squall frowned, not happy at being dragged from his admiration of the grey painting.

“I’m not shy.” He grumbled weakly.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Seifer hummed.

He looked at the painting that engrossed Squall so much.

“What’s so special about it? I can’t say it holds the same beauty as the others.” Seifer asked and Squall frowned, almost feeling insulted.

“This is more than paint on a canvas. This is a soul.” He answered and didn’t see the doubting look he got from the cop.

But truly, it was. At first glance, the picture seemed simple and boring. But if you let the little click of blue attract your attention, you had a chance to see the deeper meaning to the painting. The picture was of a flower bed in water, at first glance.

Looking closer, you could make out the invisible city in it. Light, grey lines hidden in the grey, black and white flowers made out an old looking city with a church of old and a market place.

But if you lost your focus, you lost the sight and had to start anew from the blue flower. You needed to be able to see beyond the obvious flowerbed and underneath it. Then you saw the soul in it. Suddenly he was cruelly dragged out from the heavenly scenario by the cop that boxed him again. Squall looked around confused and his eyes settled at the man beside them.

A little fat with thin brown hair and clothed in a fashionable attire Squall didn’t have a name for. At his chubby nose, thin glasses rested. He smiled at Squall with… something the brunet couldn’t place. Not resentment or anything, and not quite delight, curiosity maybe.

“The gentleman asked you what you think of this… thing.” Seifer told him and motioned for the painting with the hand holding punch.

“I noted your interest in it. I admit you are the youngest admirer I’ve seen these two opening evenings.” He smiled and Squall couldn’t help but blush.

“It’s interesting” He stammered, at a loss for words.

The man gave him such a stare that Squall started squirming and looked away. Like when you had to stand up in class and dictate the multiplication table in front of the whole class. It pushed him to evaluate.

“It has the soul that is so typical in Ms. Trepe’s drawings. It’s so full of life and colour even if you can’t see it at first.” Squall said lowly and blushed at the look he got.

The man looked at the painting as if trying to see this life Squall spoke of.

“Well, the element of the blue flower does lighten it somewhat. It draws you in and wakes your curiosity, no?” He said and nodded, eyeing Squall again.

The brunet felt uneasy. He was out of his league. He only read articles and was drawing like a hobby.

“But surely after a second glance it loses its mystery? I find it quite plain for being one of Ms. Trepe’s drawing. A disappointment. I’ve heard she worked on it for months.” The man drawled and Squall’s temper rose.

“That isn’t true. This holds a deep soul I haven’t seen in any of the others so far.” Squall protested and didn’t flinch as the man tried to battling him down with a look.

“The hidden nature of this art is way beyond anything I’ve seen before. It is as if the artist was thinking of something else while drawing and that memory just slid underneath the cloak of flowers.” He said defiantly.

That made both men look at him as if he just had spoken some different language, it made the blush intensify. The silence stretched and the man looked at the painting again as if trying to see what Squall saw.

The youth wanted to escape and excused him and fled upstairs, hoping to forget that embarrassing event by indulging in the breathtaking art. Seifer followed him like a shadow. He was obviously not as fascinated by the art as Squall.

“You’re quite passionate when it comes to things you like.” The cop noted and the fading blush intensified again.

“It was a good drawing.” He muttered, not able to look the man in the eyes.

They took another two rounds in the gallery. The brunet wanted to memorise every detail because he would never set foot in the building again. It was too far away from his home and his world. This was just a dream.

He knew he should suggest they could leave. The blond had no interest in this after all, it was mostly Squall who enjoyed himself. Still he had a hard time dragging himself from the place. They ended up by the grey painting again. It seemed to hold little interest from others.

“I’m done, if you are.” Squall said silently though he noted he sounded like a pouting child.

“Sure? We could go see that splash of colours or the excuse for the loving couple a fourth time.” Seifer grinned and Squall smiled a small smile.

Quite the crude analyse of art. The brunet dragged his feet when they left but the older man didn’t seem to mind. Outside the evening had turned to night. It was an hour to midnight when Squall looked at a watch on a wall close to a subway.

“I’m starving.” Almasy said and the brunet noticed that he too was hungry.

He hadn’t felt anything the entire time in the gallery even as he hadn’t touched either snacks or punch. It made him embarrassed. How he so completely had lost control and behaved like he had.

“There’s a drive in on the way home.” He said silently.

“Yeah, and there’s a restaurant straight ahead.” The blond grinned.

Squall had no say in the matter as they entered the small restaurant. It was clean and cosy with a “home” feeling over it. He let the cop take the lead as he wasn’t familiar with eating at restaurants. Sure, a fast-food store or anything like that, but never a restaurant.

The closest he had been to a restaurant was a pub or a nightclub with a lunch serving part during the day. Thankfully, this restaurant wasn’t so fancy that it made him wary.

They took a table in the back with only two chairs obviously meant for only two persons. It was private and closed in a box with walls of flowers and sturdy oak. When Seifer hung his jacket over the back of the chair, Squall mimicked it. A waiter came with menus and the brunet glanced over the names of things and only recognised pasta. What was a “Fancy Turdy”, anyway?

“What do you want?” Almasy asked without looking up.

It made the brunet automatically look at the prices and it made his stomach churn. He hated money issues. It made him feel guilty when asking for it from others. Only once he had borrowed money from a friend, he’d never do it again. Having someone treat him like this also made him feel… guilty and uncomfortable.

“Water and that… pasta stuff.” He settled with as he couldn’t start to try and pronounce the thing.

The blond frowned but didn’t say anything. Squall had gone by the cheapest; he didn’t know what the things were anyway. As the waiter came back, Squall easily let the blond speak for him too.

“Two lacoatle beefs, a bottle of wine and two ice-cream desserts.” The blond ordered and Squall clenched his jaws hard.

Seifer arched an eyebrow at his glare but smirked.

“That pasta tastes shit and wouldn’t feed a kitten, even less a boy still growing.” He grinned and Squall glared.

“I’m not a boy.” He muttered.

“Oh? You’re a girl then? Not last time I checked.” The cop teased and Squall rolled his eyes.

“I don’t like wine.” He added silently.

He didn’t want to sound like he didn’t appreciate it but at the same time he didn’t want the man to order something expensive that Squall couldn’t drink without turning green.

“Have you ever tasted it?” The cop asked and Squall shook his head.

“Then don’t argue until you have.”

They were silent and Squall victimized his bottom lip but stopped when he caught himself. He should say thank you for the gallery ticket. It was more than Squall could have dreamed of and it had sort of blown all anger away.

“Um… It was fun… going to the gallery.” He said silently.

Green eyes studied him in away that made him feel transparent.

“That was the point.” The blond answered silently.

Squall nodded. So this evening was a kind of “I’m sorry”. He guessed he appreciated the gesture more than a spoken apology. Somehow that the blond went to such lengths made it more sincere. He had bought those tickets at a win or loss. Squall could have been difficult and refused to open the door this night too.

As the food arrived, he was overwhelmed by the smell. It made his stomach complain loud enough to make the cop smile amusedly. It smelled like nothing he had ever eaten. The first bite of the beef made him not want to swallow but savour the taste until it turned sour in his mouth.

Maybe it really was as good as he thought, or maybe it was only his hunger screaming. In any case, he ate in silence for a long period, hardly noticing when the cop filled his glass with the red wine. Squall decided to taste it. They had water on the table and the cop was right. You couldn’t say anything before you had experienced it.

Tentatively raising the glass to his mouth, he sniffed it suspiciously. It had a heavy tangy smell he couldn’t describe. Though he knew he’d forever recognise it. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell, just different. Taking a sip that hardly wet his tongue made the cop chuckle. Looking up, he caught the man shake his head.

“A wine you smell before taking half a mouth that you let roll around your tongue.” He all put purred before doing that exactly.

It felt strange seeing this man in this position. Almost looking like a nice regular gentleman. Not the brut Squall knew. He did as advised and the taste almost overwhelmed him. He wanted to quickly swallow or spit it out. After the initial chock, he found a likable taste. Something smooth and the tangy thing he had smelled. That wasn’t so bad.

Swallowing he still wasn’t sure whether he liked it or not. He met green eyes and frowned at the cop’s apparent amusement.

“Aren’t you driving?” He asked rather sharply and put the glass down.

“We’ll see.” He answered cryptically.

Squall narrowed his eyes and the blond hummed close to a laugh.

“Hyne, have some faith in me. I said no games.” He repeated and continued eating.

“And I’m not naïve.” Squall muttered though it was teasing.

“Of course not, just easy.” The man leered and Squall pouted.

The brunet decided to stay of the wine after all. It wasn’t particularly good for more than a few mouths. Maybe you needed to learn to appreciate it. Anyway, he was working early by the morning so not too much alcohol allowed.

As the dessert was brought inside, Squall wasn’t sure he had any room left in his stomach. He didn’t eat these large potions. He rather went by little and often than much and few.

“You don’t like ice-cream?” The blond hummed as he apparently seemed bottomless.

“I’m stuffed.” Squall silently explained while he took small spoons of the thing.

“How’d you get that motorcycle?” The cop suddenly asked.

The brunet narrowed his eyes.

“How come?” He asked silently which amused the man.

“It’s not one of the cheap things. That is an original, imported none the less and what I’ve seen it has some fancy upgrades too.” The cop explained.

It made a shiver run down the youth’s spine. Was all cop’s so good at reading out the story in details, or was it a sole thing Almasy had?

“I didn’t steel it.” He said defensively.

He had been accused of that before. As with a lot of things.

“Didn’t think you had. You’re too uptight to do anything criminal like that. But you can’t expect me not to be curious.” The cop said softly and Squall’s shoulders relaxed.

He shrugged,”It’s a story I won’t tell.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Of course. What’s in all those boxes?” He asked instead.

“Why are you asking?” He glared suspiciously.

“Because I curious, what else?” Almasy leered.

“My stuff. I don’t have room to have it unpacked.”

“Or you are a person that moves around a lot.” The cop suggested and Squall looked up again.

Why did Seifer ask all this? To show that he knew a lot without asking? Or to show that he indeed was as scarily intelligent as Squall feared. It made him uneasy because it meant he couldn’t hide as much from the man that he had thought he could.

“Maybe.” He answered silently.

“And just maybe it’s because of those fists of yours?” The blond poked and Squall made a frustrated sound.

“Why? What do you want?” He growled and put down the spoon.

“So I’m right about something? If I can’t look in your registry or else pry into your life, the only source left is you.” The cop smirked and the youth clenched his jaws.

“You didn’t think my curiosity would go away just because I know my limits now, did you?”

“… never stupid to hope, is it?” The brunet said dryly which made the cop leer.

He leaned over the table. Squall sat frozen as a rough thumb lightly trailed his bottom lip. Seifer licked the thumb clean from the moisture and the youth’s body shivered slightly. His head started blaring in warning. He shouldn’t accept any sex to night, even if he was very inclined to it. The youth needed to make it clear that he hadn’t appreciated that event.

But it was close to impossible to get any leverage with the cunning man. The brunet knew this on some instinctual level. Knew that the man was as much alpha as you could get and still Squall fought it. It was as inevitable as the gravity pulling you down to earth.

“Want to get to a hotel?” Seifer murmured with a deep baritone voice that danced on Squall’s pleasure nerves.

“No, and I’m not going to change my mind.” He said while his mouth felt dry and his groin tight and uncomfortable.

To his surprise the cop leaned back.

“Okay.”

A dizzying and disturbing mix of relief and disappointment washed through him. But he set his jaws and pushed the emotions away. This was how it should be. He shouldn’t be weak and relent to his own body. The youth needed this ground to stand on.

When he was home again and the man had left, he felt content anyway. He’d done well. He felt at peace and was pleased with how things had gone. Squall smiled softly. The bastard maybe wasn’t such a bastard after all. He had been able to see his own mistake and accept it, right? Not acting like some people and denied his own fault but had taken it and understood.

The youth appreciated such things more than a spoken apology that didn’t mean anything. That night, he went to bed with a peaceful mind for once.


Author’s Note:
Hyne what a hellish chapter!! Long and no smut… *sob*

Anyway, hope you like it. It sure gave me a week’s worth of headache. I had to consult two friends to get it done right.