Hurt

Disclaimer: the characters and places contained herein do not belong to me and I make no claim or money from this. I can’t even claim responsibility for most of the idea because it came from both Race Ulfson and the song “Hurt” covered by Johnny Cash.

With many thanks to Pixie for betaing, Acid Rain and Astraea.

This fanfiction is dedicated in its entirety to Race Ulfson, also known as the beta babe who usually previews all my stuff and tells me where I’ve screwed up.

Hurt.
For Race.


I cannot be without you
matter of fact
I'm on your back

if you walk out on me
I'm walking after you
Foo Fighters – Walking after you.



The wind swept through the quad, the cool breeze carrying with it the soft scent of sea spray even at this distance. An hour from Balamb, the deceptively calm blue of the ocean could be seen on the horizon on a clear day, sparkling blue and bright and clear. However, the storm clouds now obscured that view and unwittingly matched Squall's mood.

The rain had stopped only half an hour or so before, the leaves of the swaying trees in the small boarders and displays of the quad still slick with moisture. It hadn't taken long to pack the last of his few belongings into a suitcase; his car was already at the station, loaded onto a train for delivery to Deling. His ticket was burning a hole in his pocket and he was nervously eager for the journey to begin.

His life had been horribly easy to categorise and file away for return to garden or as personal possessions. In fact, his personal possessions were so few themselves that he required little more than that suitcase to contain them. Lionheart was waiting in the gate guard's office, along with his case and he was almost ready to leave.

"So, when were you gonna tell us?" the familiar, smooth Galbadian drawl of Irvine's voice purred over his shoulder.

Squall had been so lost in thought that he hadn't heard the cowboy approach. Hiding his surprise he lowered his eyes to the stone beneath his feet, taking a drag from the cigarette between his lips and exhaling slowly. "Tell you what?" he asked softly, hoping to avoid the entire issue.

“You always did hate goodbyes,” Irvine said, plucking the cigarette from his friend’s lips and lifting it to his own to. The end glittered orange red as he inhaled, the ashes fluttering and escaping the cylinder when a gust of wind stirred Irvine’s long bronze-brown hair, making it whip across his face and dance in the breeze. “Even when we were back at the orphanage.”

“So, who told you?” Squall turned to look at Irvine, sliding his hands deep into his pockets. Hunching his shoulders a little against the cold, he frowned. “And didn’t you quit?”

Turning his gaze to the white cylinder held deftly between his thumb and forefinger, Irvine gave a crooked grin that Squall could not remember the last time he’d seen. Irvine had been on edge around him for so long that it felt like forever, and it had seemed that he’d been able to see just how broken Squall was inside but knew he was not able to help. No one had been able to help. “I think one of my best friends leavin’ is reason enough for one quick smoke, darlin’, don’t you?”

“I suppose so,” he murmured. A thread of guilt wound its way through the pit of Squall’s stomach, the first real moment of hesitation he’d experienced since he returned to Balamb. Perhaps even the first moment since he’d kissed Seifer goodbye.

“No one told me. Saw you take your case down to the guardhouse, and heard about Quisty movin’ your car for you,” the Galbadian drawled. He’d hardly lost any of the deep thrum to his voice, that soft purr that made him so attractive to women and men alike, spending weeks in Galbadia Garden here and there to train students at that garden as well as Balamb in the art of sniping. “You gonna be okay? You sure about this?”

Just why everyone seemed to doubt his love for Seifer, Squall wasn’t sure. However, the questioning just made him more adamant that it would work, and that he was making the right decision. His own stubbornness surprised even him sometimes. “Mm, I’m sure.”

“You love him, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Squall replied without hesitation. He looked up at Irvine, his jaw set and his eyes cool, ready for the why’s, how’s and what are you thinking’s that usually followed that realisation.

“Musta been hard to fight him back then, hm?” Irvine grinned again.

His surprise not quite as well hidden as it would have been years before when his walls of ice, forged by his pain, were stronger. Squall realised that, turning his head away from Irvine and closing his eyes. “I was doing my job, Irvine. Like you, like the others.”

Thoughtfully, Irvine nodded, lifting one hand to his hat as a particularly strong gust of wind rolled through the quad. He finished the cigarette before he spoke again, letting the wind take that as well, the paper dancing away. “Just do me a favour and be happy for once in your Hyne-damned life, Leonhart. Get out of here before they find something to make you stay.”

A soft smile caught Squall’s lips, and he chuckled quietly. “I’ll try. …Thanks, Irvine.”

“Don’t mention it. Where you gonna go? You told your dad yet?”

“WinHill, and he doesn’t know just yet. I’ll tell him when we’re settled in – if Seifer comes with me. Either way he’s just going to try and interfere if I do it now,” he sighed. Although he knew he should have told Laguna just as soon as he had begun to plan for his escape from Garden’s control, he had spent too much time drifting under a haze of painkillers and in a whirlwind of meetings to inform Laguna.

He knew where his future lay, regardless of whether Seifer was willing to join him in the quiet town of Win Hill. Just how comfortable that life would be depended entirely on Seifer, but at least he had somewhere to sleep.

“Let us know how you get on, okay darlin’?” Irvine asked, punching him lightly on his good shoulder. “And when it’s safe to come visit.”

“I will,” he smiled. “And I meant it, Kinneas. Thanks. For not asking me why or whatever.”

Irvine shrugged, winking at Squall when he glanced up. “I’ve never seen you so happy, Squall. You really think I’m gonna question it? Just tell him if he hurts you, he has to deal with all of us. Okay?” he ruffled Squall’s hair briefly before turning his back on him and strolling back into the garden, waving before he disappeared inside.

Suddenly feeling quite small and very alone in the quad, Squall smiled and pulled his jacket tighter over his injured arm. He wasn’t sure why his friends were still his friends, even after all he had done but he was grateful for it. “I’ll tell him,” he whispered to no one and slipped inside quietly.

The journey to a protected room on the second floor did not take long.

The room had once been a simple store room. Theoretically it still was, though the sheer power hidden behind the doors would probably have shocked the people who happened to walk past it. After all, few people actually knew it was there.

Xu’s security codes had been disgustingly easy to discover. He’d watched her enter her room, caught the first two numbers and managed to work out the rest very quickly when he’d discovered her birthday. After the sheer number of lectures that he’d had from her about using codes that were too easy to discover, the irony of the situation amused him.

Glancing around to ensure the corridor was empty, Squall slipped into the small room.

Inside, the walls were covered in symbols and Centran writing, each name with a crystal beneath it. The technology was a combination of Ancient Centran and modern day storage systems, like the interfaces that were employed in the desk top computers in the classrooms. Each name was a guardian force, a powerful creature that the Garden had decided was too much, and too dangerous, for SeeD to use unless in an emergency any longer.

The symbols depicting Shiva’s name were as familiar to him as his own.

“I never know how to greet you,” he whispered, tracing his fingers over the name beside the storage crystal. “I missed you.”

He expected no reply, but as he finally touched the crystal, he received his answer. Shiva did not wait for him to beckon her, sliding over his consciousness. As familiar and welcome as an old lover’s embrace, she whispered her delight at returning to him.

The rush of power made his head swim, and he had to steady himself against the wall.

When the dizzying rush had passed, Squall glanced up and caught sight of himself in the mirrored surface that made up the back of the door. Ice clung to his eyelashes, his lips turned blue as the first rush of magical energy coursed through his body. It had been so long since he’d first junctioned the ice goddess that he’d forgotten just how strong her initial effects were.

Her voice inside his head calmed him, relieved him. She seemed pleased that he was no longer under the influence of the drugs he had taken when she had still been present in his head but the pain in his shoulder was concerning her. “I’ll be fine,” he reassured her, aloud.

He turned to leave, but paused briefly as a name on the wall caught his eye. Well… if he was going to take one, he might as well take two after all.

“You want to get out of here as well, don’t you?” Squall touched the second crystal and smiled, letting the second guardian force slip into his mind. “Well, I think you should be with him anyway.”


The television blared ceaselessly, the light shifting across the room and casting dancing shadows on the walls.

Just another night of feeling empty and alone, another night without Squall. The only good thing that had happened to him all week was that he’d been allowed to return to his apartment after the forensics team had finished.

His home seemed deserted without Squall there. He’d grown so used to taking care of him, to having his lover there at all times that he felt bereft, lost, and exhausted. In fact, Squall’s leaving had affected Seifer so much that he had lost his temper one time too many, and this time his job had been the price he’d had to pay.

Seifer just didn’t care any more.

The phone began to ring, its sound piercing the wall of noise that the television provided and distracting him momentarily. He didn’t bother to reach for it, letting the machine click on.

“Hi…” Squall’s voice murmured from the speaker. Whatever he was feeling was rather effectively kept from his voice, that familiar icy edge to his tone leaving Seifer wondering just what he was feeling. “I know you probably hate me and think I’ve forgotten you by now, but I haven’t. I’ve been in and out of meetings and surgery and debriefings all week… I only got your number tonight.”

He turned his head towards the phone slowly. That empty feeling had not faded. In fact it had only gotten worse the second that Squall had spoken. This was it; this was when Squall would confess he wasn’t coming back. Garden would be coming between them again. Seifer mouthed Squall’s name but didn’t speak it aloud.

“If you hate me, fine,” he said, sighing softly. Squall hesitated for only a moment, a second that almost stopped Seifer’s heart in his chest. “But I’m standing outside your door and I can see the light, and hear the television so open up. Lazy bastard,” Squall added affectionately.

Since Squall was already aware that he was home, Seifer did not waste any time in turning off the television and opening the door.

He wasn’t prepared for what he saw. Seifer was angry at everything that had happened over the previous days, and suddenly he had a target for all that aggression – it was killing him to hold off. Squall was back to his usual shade of pale, a fact which wasn’t helped by the black clothing he wore, a neat leather jacket over a shirt and a pair of jeans.

However, the shoulder that had been giving him trouble, the shoulder that had been injured in the initial attack, was bound up in a sling, his pale hand resting against his chest. Somehow that made him look even more vulnerable, although Seifer knew to believe Squall was vulnerable for any amount of time while he was on his feet was underestimating him.

His hair back to the old, rich brown shade that he had missed so very badly, Squall looked simply better. Even with the bandages peering out from beneath the neck of his shirt, layered against pale skin.

“Found your way back, hm?” Seifer asked, his tone cool.

“Just took me a while,” he shrugged, his silver-blue eyes searching Seifer’s face looking for something, some sign that it was okay to touch him again, that it was okay to care for him again. “I missed you,” Squall said, his voice hesitant and curious, his injured hand curling into a loose fist against his chest.

“I was about two days from making a trip to ol’ BG,” the older man stated, folding his arms across his chest as he leant against the door frame.

Squall edged closer, slowly and cautiously. A small frown caught his lips at the thought of Seifer returning to Balamb Garden – he knew it would be taking his life into his own hands. Half the SeeDs were probably of the “kill first, ask questions later” variety, especially when it came to perceived traitors like Seifer. “Oh they’d just love that.”

Seifer shrugged and took a step back into the apartment once again. “I wouldn’t have cared. Get your ass in here.”

Hair tumbling over his eyes, Squall shook his head. “I want something first,” he replied, a small smile curling his lips smugly. For the first time since he’d found Seifer again he felt comfortable. He felt in control, and he was enjoying it.

Eyes narrowing to angry slits, one eyebrow arched, Seifer glared down at his lover. He believed Squall had e-fucking-nough and wasn’t about to give him more when he was still so infuriated. “Yeah? What’s that?”

That smile still in place on Squall’s lips, he beckoned Seifer down. As the taller man leant closer to him, his anger faded to be replaced by a look Squall hadn’t seen since they’d both been teenagers and still at Garden – that sweet please kiss me look. Of course, that was exactly what Squall had been planning and he wasn’t about to disappoint when Seifer was wearing that expression.

Sliding his fingers into the loose waves of Seifer’s hair, cupping the back of his head, Squall kissed his lover slowly but deeply. Squall tasted his lover’s lips and slid his tongue between Seifer’s lips. He could feel Seifer’s tension melting away, his anger replaced by relief, hunger and longing. All the emotion he’d held back, that he’d hidden since Squall’s departure in the police station was threatening to tumble out of him.

“Seifer,” he whispered, wrapping his good arm around Seifer’s waist and clinging to him. He didn’t want to let go, ever again.

Carefully, with his anger gone and suddenly replaced by concern, Seifer nuzzled against the smaller man’s cheek. He closed his eyes, his hands resting possessively on Squall’s shoulders mindful of the injury. “I hope you’re staying this time. I don’t think I can take you leaving me twice.”

“I had no choice. You understand that, right?”

“Yeah, didn’t make me miss you any less,” Seifer shrugged. Perhaps some day he would tell Squall of just how much he had missed him, when they were once again comfortable together and when he himself was more relaxed with Squall. The previous days of loneliness after finding himself so very close to Squall had left him wary, not to mention the fact that he had to get to know Squall – the one who was now free of drugs and had grown without him – all over again.

Seeking the warmth and comfort of Seifer’s body, Squall pressed closer to his lover and savouring his scent for a moment. With a noise of utter relief even he could not still, Squall pressed a kiss to his lover’s throat. “Let’s go inside.”

Nodding once, Seifer ushered Squall inside, locking and checking the door behind him. It was something that had become habit while he’d been alone, even though he knew both of Squall’s attackers were dead and there was no more danger. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for the mistake in the heat of the moment – in his lust for Squall – that had caused them to be torn apart once more. “So, how was the week?”

“Hell,” Squall replied, tipping his head curiously as he turned to face Seifer again, his eyes cutting to the door. His tone was amused as he continued: “I’m not going to run away on you, Almasy.”

It took Seifer a moment to realise what Squall meant. He looked back at the door, and then returned his attention to the waiting brunet. He’d been caught; his subconscious and silent fears bought out into the open when he could no longer deny it. “Oh, I know that,” he said, a little sheepish. To hide the meagre embarrassment that his being caught out caused, he slid into the offered, one armed embrace from Squall and kissed his forehead softly. “You always know how to get to me, don’t you, Leonhart?”

“I do?” the smaller man frowned up at his lover, amusement showing in his eyes though it did not reach his lips. His fingertips stirred restlessly on the small of Seifer’s back and he rested against the older man with a sigh. “Must be subconscious.”

“I missed you.”

Leaning back, Squall curled his fingers under the collar of his shirt, pulling it down to reveal the choker Seifer had placed around his throat. It hung more loosely on him, the polished surface sitting a little lower on his collar bones than it would usually on Seifer. “I only took it off when I had to,” he said, smiling. He had to explain, he had to let Seifer know that though he’d been thousands of miles apart from him, he’d still been Seifer’s. “And even then I never let go of it.”

Smiling somewhat possessively, Seifer bowed his head to kiss the soft pale skin of his lover’s throat, just above where the choker covered it. Just seeing his mark there – in addition to the old scar that still claimed Squall as his own – made him feel better. “You’re keeping it on, too.”

“Oh, I am?”

Seifer tightened his arms around Squall’s waist and simply held him, his nose buried against Squall’s hair. “Yeah.”

Content to be held like that, Squall remained silent for a while, his eyes closed and his body relaxed. Eventually, as a spasm of pain shuddered through his shoulder, he found the need to speak again. “They had to operate on my shoulder twice. When I was out of surgery I was either out of it on pain killers or in meetings and evaluations.”

Bare fingers curling beneath Squall’s chin, Seifer tipped his head up to face him. His voice almost verged on desperate when he pleaded “tell me you’re on leave.”

“I guess you could say that.”

“About time,” Seifer sighed, relaxing just a little. He didn’t ignore the fact that Squall hadn’t elaborated. Perhaps he had been suspended, or something else. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter, Squall was right there in his arms and everything was perfect again.

For the time being at least.

“I hear you lost your job,” Squall murmured, touching his fingertips to Seifer’s cheek gently. His eyes searched his lover’s face, memorising every detail once more. Seifer looked dog tired; as though he’d been wound up to the point of breaking and the sudden reprieve had taken the strength as well as his stress.

“How do you know about that?” Seifer frowned.

“Where do you think I got your number?”

Seifer sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah.”

“I know somewhere down south looking for a bar tender. I could...,” Squall paused, leaning up to whisper against his lover’s ear, his breath hot as his lips brushed against the lobe. “Put in a good word for you.”

With another sigh, Seifer took hold of Squall’s hand and turned him gently, leading him into the kitchen. He didn’t like the idea of having to rely on someone else to find him a job, his own stubborn pride preventing him from admitting he needed help in that respect, even if he had gotten a little more used to the idea of anyone helping him.

“I don’t know, Squall,” he shrugged, noticing that Squall didn’t let him go until they were safely in the kitchen and Squall was propped up in the corner of the counter, the same place he’d been that morning when he’d lost his mind and himself. The best place to watch the two exits, and the point closest to the most readily available weaponry. Seifer was not the only one who was wary after their encounter it seemed. “I don’t like the idea of you having to get me a job. Makes me feel useless.”

“Salary’d be negotiable,” Squall said, his eyes on the block of knives nearby. The same block of knives he’d taken the blade from to protect himself when the ghosts of his past had come back to haunt him as his symptoms had peaked. “One of the perks is getting to sleep with the owner.”

Seifer paused, his hand resting on the counter beside the coffee maker as he turned to look at Squall. His disbelieving expression lasted a full two minutes before he laughed, shaking his head. “You tellin’ me you own a bar?”

“As of this morning,” he replied, a blush staining his pale cheeks. Squall shrugged, adding nonchalantly “Seifer, I quit.”

“Quit what?” Seifer asked, his smile not faltering for even a moment.

“SeeD. Garden,” the younger man spoke softly. It had yet to sink in, the consequences of his actions, the fact he was now a civilian… The fact that he was free of the constraints placed upon him by the institution that had raised him since the age of eight, from the life that had fed into his fears and concerns, had yet to sink in.

Seifer’s smile faded quickly. “You serious?”

“I’m serious,” he nodded. Dark eyes lowering to the floor, Squall wrapped his good arm around his waist, hugging himself. Perhaps it was beginning to sink in after all. A life of his own. He’d been so sure when he’d been back at Garden and faced with Cid Kramer and his less than pleasant comments, but now the first fingers of doubt were beginning to trace the edges of his consciousness. He pushed them back however, slid the doubt from his mind. Tonight was Seifer’s, the first night of the rest of his life – of their lives – and he wouldn’t ruin it by giving into his own apprehensions. “Cid didn’t like the fact that I was in a relationship with you.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Seifer stared at Squall. Cid’s golden boy, his prized Gunblade master and he’d been so blind to how Squall Leonhart was that he had driven him away. He just couldn’t believe that Squall had given up everything he’d worked for. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I got the feeling that if you had been female, he wouldn’t have minded so much.”

Seifer’s hand tightened into a fist. That in and of itself was enough to make him see red, but he forced his anger down, held it back. “I can’t believe he’d do that to you,” he said.

“Wanted to put me behind a desk again,” the younger man sighed and paused, looking up at Seifer just as intently as he had years before, when he’d still been the serious, intense teenager that had been unable to admit what he felt for Seifer even to himself. “Look, Seifer. I’d already decided that if you wanted me, I’d quit SeeD and find something else. He just… sped my plans up a little.”

The words shocked him more than anything he could remember. Seifer didn’t even know what to say to Squall for a moment as he stared at him, surprised, touched and longing to take Squall into his arms again. He didn’t dare close the gap between them just yet, no matter how much he wanted to, he was afraid of breaking the spell that Squall had managed to cast over him, the words an enchantment that he’d never thought possible, no matter how much he had wanted it. “You mean that,” Seifer stated, his voice barely above a murmur.

“I love you dumbass,” Squall broke the spell after all, the moment too sappy or too intense for his still fragile heart to take for a moment longer. The blush had returned to his cheeks, his head tipped forward to make his hair fall to cover his cheeks. “”Why would I lie about wanting to be with you?”

Seifer simply laughed. “Yeah, but… to give it all up like that, Squall.”

It was Squall who edged closer to him first, his movements slow and cautious as though he were approaching a ferocious, wild anima rather than the person who haunted his sleep, the person who he loved. “Well, I didn’t know you’d lost your job at the time. I was hoping I’d be able to convince you to move to WinHill with me.”

“The only convincing you’d have to do is tell me you’d be there,” he smiled. The worry he’d felt, the anger he’d experienced when he’d opened the door and found Squall right there had ebbed completely, and had been replaced with a new hope, and the excitement of a new beginning.

“I’ll be there,” the younger man nodded. “I found out a little about my family during the war. My mother lived there, she ran a bar for a while. It came up for sale last week. Felt like fate,” Squall’s voice trailed off, the embarrassment making him suddenly even more self conscious about what he was saying. He instead turned his attention to removing his jacket, carefully easing it off his injured shoulder and setting it on the back of a nearby chair.

“All I want is you, Squall.”

“Seifer, I’m right here. All you have to do is claim me.”

Unable to resist for even a moment longer, Seifer closed the gap between them. He stood before Squall, his fingers brushing over the pale skin of Squall’s cheek, the soft skin still fascinating him. “I thought I’d already done that,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the very end of the faded scar. Though, really he’d placed that claim many years before even that, the scar had simply been the final touch. The visible claim.

“I wear your mark. I wear your choker. I guess you have,” Squall smiled as he covered Seifer’s hand with his own. “Do I have to spell it out for you? I want you Almasy, I’ve thought of nothing but sleeping with you again for a week.”

Seifer wasn’t quite sure how to phrase what he wanted to ask without sounding like a woman. Eventually he simply settled for “just sleeping with me?”

Squall stretched up slowly, leaning up on his tip toes to press a kiss to Seifer’s lips. He needed to touch his lover, to cling to his companion for a moment to draw some of his strength and lend his in its place. “Seifer,” he purred against Seifer’s earlobe, his lips brushing the sensitive skin gently. “Fuck me.”

What more invitation did he need really? What else did he need than that husky, needy, longing request? Nothing, Seifer decided as he hauled his lover close, one arm around his waist as he ducked to kiss Squall, tasting his lips, sliding his tongue against Squall’s. And, lifting his currently injured lover carefully against him, Seifer turned and carried him to the bedroom.

“I tried every contact I had – I just couldn’t find a way to contact you,” the smaller man whispered, his lips brushing against the silver chain that Seifer wore around his throat, the metal diving beneath his shirt. “I missed you.”

At the words, the admittance that had been so hard for Squall to make the last time they had been reunited, Seifer squeezed him even tighter. Even when they’d reached the bed he didn’t want to let him go, he didn’t want to put him down. “If you hadn’t come back, I’d have come to you. You’re not getting away from me again.”

“I don’t want to.”

Afraid Squall would break if he were too quick or anything but gentle; Seifer lowered his lover to the bed and followed him down, crawling over him to kiss the hollow of his throat. “I love you.”

Squall didn’t reply at first, sliding his fingers through the thick waves of Seifer’s golden hair, his free arm snaking around his lover’s shoulders and holding him close. He didn’t want to let go of his lover either, coming too close to losing him forever to admit anything but the truth now. Even if it did take him a few minutes to find the words. “I love you too.”

Seifer sighed as he gently touched his fingertips to the wounded and bound shoulder, tracing them lightly along the arm as it curled into the sling. He couldn’t believe it belonged to Squall any more than he could believe that it was finally over, and that Squall had returned to him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Seifer,” Squall tipped Seifer’s head up to force the blonde to look at him. “I trust you.”

The admittance, so easy and simple on Squall’s lips, was enough to make Seifer grin as he eased up that black shirt, kissing along Squall’s pale stomach. He’d leave the shirt on, to save Squall any pain – he could always take it off him in the morning, or after he’d made his lover come. “So, we’re moving?”

“If you think you can stand living with me again,” he replied, watching Seifer’s movement, his slow and sweet kisses, his lips against the pale skin of Squall’s belly.

“I don’t want to live anyplace that you’re not.”

Squall arched up as Seifer unbuckled his belts, pulling each of the three strips of leather from his body and tossing them over the side of the bed. Each hit the floor with a heavy clunk, the buckles rattling softly. “You asked for forever,” the younger man murmured, letting Seifer peel his leather pants down far enough for him to lie back down before tugging his boots off.

“And that’s what I’m after,” Seifer grinned as he divested Squall of those pitch black leathers, tossing them aside just as carelessly as he had the belts, letting them form a black pool on the carpet. He paused for a moment, simply watching that almost naked, pale beauty of a man that lay stretched out beneath him. He very nearly with relief at knowing that – no matter how he felt that Squall would disappear – he was real. He could touch him. Feel the soft skin beneath his fingertips, feel his warmth…

“Sounds… Perfect.”

When his demanding lover tugged on his shirt, Seifer knew what he wanted. He was too impatient, too eager for a release or some measure of comfort that he could only gain from the physical relief that came with the press of bare skin against bare skin and Seifer was not about to deny him that when he was injured. He stretched out beside Squall, half over him, toying with his hair restlessly. “Does this mean we can have a housewarming and invite all our friends?”

“Getting all domestic on me?” Squall asked, sliding his good hand down over Seifer’s chest slowly, tracing the lines of old wounds as his fingers wound their way down to the base of Seifer’s cock. He rubbed the sensitive flesh deftly, stroking, teasing. Having Seifer there and naked was too much to resist after the previous days of pain, confusion and loneliness, he was already hard, just as Seifer was.

“Would you mind?” Seifer slid between Squall’s legs, carefully rocking their hard lengths together, watching the flutter of Squall’s eye lashes as the sensations sent shiver after shiver through his body.

“Mind you getting domestic or,” his voice trailed off with a hitch of his breath, an involuntary purr rumbling in his chest with every stroke of velvet skin on velvet skin. The friction felt delicious. “Or mind having a housewarming? Fuck, that feels good.”

Wrapping his fingers around the curve of Squall’s cock, Seifer stroked him lightly. He drank in the reactions his touch evoked, watching the slightest flicker of Squall’s eyelashes as he closed his eyes, the faintest tremble of his limbs and the shudder that ran through him every time he brushed his fingers against the sensitive head of his cock. “Either or.”

“If it makes you happy, I don’t have any right to complain.”

Seifer, of course, didn’t doubt for a moment that he would complain. More than likely as soon as he’d come and recovered, when Seifer managed to do something to offend him, but for the moment he was content so smirk at his lover and move lower. Trailing kisses down over Squall’s hip, he smiled, his green eyes lingering on the play of Squall’s dark lashes on the pale skin of his cheek. “I can’t believe you’re serious about this.”

Squall moaned, lifting his head to watch Seifer, his eyes as dark as a tempest on the horizon. “About what?” he asked, his voice soft, husky with his need. He could feel Seifer’s hot breath against his cock, and the cool metal of the griever ring that hung around his lover’s neck brushed against his thigh.

“Living together.”

Shaking his head, Squall allowed Seifer to manipulate him however he wanted. He felt Seifer’s strong palms on his legs, coaxing them apart. He felt the roughness of Seifer’s cheek, of his stubble rubbing against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. Surrounded by Seifer, by his scent and his touch, he sighed. “This past week nearly killed me.”

Stretching out on the bed, between Squall’s legs, Seifer smiled. The heat from Squall’s hard cock was almost tangible as he leant over the pale young man; his lips almost close enough to touch the reddened flesh. “Well, now you’re stuck with me.”

“Just so long as you leave all the cooking to me,” the smaller man said.

Seifer licked the tip of Squall’s erection. “Deal,” he purred, taking Squall into his mouth and rubbing his fingers against the soft flesh of Squall’s inner thighs. The skin was soft, reddened by the rough stubble on Seifer’s cheeks, and hot to the touch.

In the time that he’d been away from Seifer, Squall’s time had been too full of drugs, sleep and debriefings to find any moment for relief. He hadn’t even touched himself; he simply hadn’t had the energy nor time for it. After the months of sex, of raw animal lust, seven days without a release suddenly felt like a lift time and he moaned, squeezing Seifer’s shoulder as he watched him from beneath dark lashes.

“You taste so good,” Seifer whispered, making a show of licking Squall’s cock as his gaze locked with the steel and storm blue irises that watched him longingly and intently. “Tell me what you thought about this week. Tell me while I suck your cock.”

A soft hitch of breath was all the evidence Seifer needed of the excitement that thought invoked in Squall. “W…while I was coherent?”

“Mmmhm,” the elder man purred as he took Squall completely into his throat.

The sudden assault of pleasure was very nearly too much for Squall. He shuddered violently, his hand squeezing tightly on Seifer’s shoulder as he held on while the room spun. He didn’t dare let go, he didn’t dare breathe for a few seconds as he regained control over himself. “I thought about how good you felt inside me,” he gasped aloud again. “How good it felt to sleep beside you again, how much I missed you… Fuck, Seifer.”

Rocking his head, sucking gently at the most sensitive flesh in his mouth, Seifer pulled back slowly. As Squall’s sex slid from his mouth, he smirked – more to himself than to his lover. “You’re all I could think about,” he admitted, tonguing the crown of Squall’s erection, glad that he had been in Squall’s thoughts just as much as the brunet had been in his own.

“Spent every spare minute planning how I’d get back to you,” Squall said, his voice already beginning to wear that breathless edge of lust that told of his need, his loss of control.

Seifer loved that breathless edge to Squall’s voice almost as much as he loved the pale beauty of a man himself. However, he said nothing.

Instead, Seifer slid his hands beneath the curve of Squall’s ass, lifting him and spreading him open. He licked and sucked at Squall’s opening, the entrance that he planned on entering very, very soon, listening to his lover cry out in husky pleasure at the hot, wet touch of Seifer’s tongue.

“Gods, Seifer!” Squall moaned, rolling his hips up, begging for more with silent movements.

Effortlessly, with an ease that stemmed from trust more than practice, Seifer balanced Squall and he reached up to stroke the hard arc of Squall’s cock. He kept licking, pushing his tongue into Squall to perfect little whimpers, husky moans and the faintest murmurs of his name – all beautiful, rare gems of exclamations that Squall had once hidden from him as well as the feelings and passion that filled him. Rarer than Pulse ammunition, than diamonds, and a thousand times more precious and beautiful than either.

Seifer was looking forward to this new opportunity, this new life with Squall.

“I love you,” Squall said. His voice was dreamy, distant, and the haze of lust in his eyes implied that he hadn’t quite recognised what he’d said. That only convinced Seifer of the truth behind the words, the admittance escaping when his guard was down and he was vulnerable meant just as much as it had the first time Squall had said it, back when he’d been a trembling broken figure, racked with pain and the ebbing effects of rapture.

Seifer rested his forehead against Squall’s thigh, closing his eyes in pleasure when he slid one finger into Squall’s opening. “I love you too, baby. More than anything.”

Cool fingers threaded through Seifer’s hair, kneading the back of his neck. In any other circumstances he might have been distracted by the pleasing pressure, the way Squall knew just where the knots of tension needed relief, but he had his mind on other methods of relief and release, and he wasn’t ready to stop just yet. “Spread your legs some more,” he ordered softly, pushing a second finger into Squall and turning his wrist to make the digits shift inside him.

After a moment to gather his thoughts, Squall shifted. He bent his knees to place his feet flat on the bed, his legs spread wide. He felt open, vulnerable to Seifer’s attentions, and he liked it. “Like this?”

“Mmmm,” Seifer almost purred as he took Squall’s sex between his lips again. Still pushing his fingers into Squall’s body, penetrating him slowly over and over, Seifer enjoyed watching the growing blush, spreading over his lover’s skin. He closed his eyes, sucking at the hot flesh and moaning with his own pleasure.

“Seifer, oh please,” the smaller man gasped, his injured arm shifting slowly against his chest as his hand flexed restlessly. He whimpered, squirming in the effort to get more, his need growing stronger with every touch.

He let the cock slide from between his lips, turning his head to rub his face against his lover’s thigh. Seifer’s eyes were still closed, his fingers still pushing into Squall over and over. “What are you asking for, lover?” he said, his lips brushing against the pale skin beneath him. “What do you want?”

A violent shudder ran through Squall’s body as he ground his hips onto Seifer’s fingers. “You, inside me,” he said, watching Seifer with heavy lidded eyes. His cheeks were ruddy, his chest was rising and falling quickly and his good hand slid over Seifer’s hair. His fingers tightened in the thick waves of Seifer’s blond locks and he very nearly pleaded. “I need to feel you again.”

There was no verbal answer. Seifer instead reached up, over Squall to dig the lubricant from the bedside table, pausing to kiss him slowly. Even that kiss, that gentle brush of his lips against Squall’s and the soft coaxing nature of the touch, made him want more. The knowledge that he had an entire lifetime of those kisses waiting for him sent a shivery thrill through his body.

“I love you,” the smaller man whispered.

Seifer smiled, just the gentlest curve of his lips. Careful of the injured arm, Seifer hugged Squall against him, only for a moment. “I’ve loved you forever. Now I can tell you whenever I want.”

“You’ll be bored within a week,” Squall murmured, his voice edged with amusement as he returned the hug, one armed and tight. He almost seemed to cling to Seifer, his own unease making him hold on as though he feared he’d be forced to let go forever again.

“You’re the one person in the world who could never bore me, cub,” Seifer laughed aloud, reaching between them to stroke Squall’s hard cock again. Squall moaned, his voice husky with lust. His body undulated in time with the strokes, thrusting even further into Seifer’s grip. He’d barely managed to keep still up until now, and no sooner than he began to move, he couldn’t stop himself.

“Hold you to that.”

“You’re my whole world, Squall. Always have been,” the older man admitted right against the curve of Squall’s neck, popping the cap on the lubricant and taking the time to prepare him carefully. The purr of Squall’s voice against his ear was just as distracting as the feel of the tight body around his fingers, and he moved as quickly as he could. Finally, he slicked his own cock, finding his mark easily as he pushed into Squall, gasping at just how good he felt again. “Hold on to me.”

Squall’s arm trembled as it slid around his waist, the injured limb still pressed between them, fingers flexing uselessly and restlessly. Seifer was mindful of the damaged limb as he lay against his lover’s body, pushing into his lover agonizingly slowly, gasping in pleasure when he was seated completely within him. “Nobody… like you, Squall.”

“Mine,” the smaller man’s voice was barely more than a whisper, a plea more than a statement as he rolled his hips. Squall nuzzled his cheek against Seifer’s, feeling the rough surface scratch at his skin. Somehow that sensation made everything seem more real, never mind the honey scent of Seifer’s shampoo, or the spice of his cologne, never mind the feel of his cock penetrating Squall once again and filling him so completely he could barely breathe, the feel of Seifer’s stubble against his cheek was what made him realise – more than anything – that he was safe with his lover once again.

“Feels good?” Seifer asked, pressing gentle kisses to his cheeks, his eyelids and finally to his mouth.

“Always is with you,” Squall answered. He’d never felt quite so loved in Seifer’s arms as he did in that very moment. Seifer had never been quite as gentle or tender in holding him, touching him and kissing him as he had right them, his hands sliding beneath Squall’s back to gather him up as he rocked into Squall’s body. This wasn’t fucking any more. It was making love. Squall returned Seifer’s kisses as though each would be his last, pouring his love, his affection and his longing for the older man into each and every one.

Easing his thighs beneath the curve of Squall’s ass, Seifer braced the smaller man against him. Every movement was slow, deliberate, rocking as deep into the willing, hot body that squirmed and writhed within his grip as he could. Seifer could taste the sweat on Squall’s skin, almost taste his pleasure as he nipped and licked at the tender skin of his throat.

“Gods!” the smaller man cried aloud as one of Seifer’s thrusts found that spot, bought stars to his vision and sent lightning along his veins.

Just as Squall trembled with need and longing against Seifer, Seifer trembled with restraint. He was determined to love Squall slowly, coax him to the point of release gently before finally giving him what he wanted and letting him come. He liked the slow, even pace that he’d set, the gentle, careful pace. “You feel so good, cub.”

Strong thighs flexing against Seifer’s sides, Squall still shifted restlessly. Each stroke tore a moan from his lips, a soft gasp, a whimper of desire, and he could barely respond. His head swam, his heart pounded against his ribs and Squall clutched at Seifer, pulling his injured arm around his lover as soon as he slid it out of the sling. “Y... You too, firebug,” he gasped against Seifer’s ear.

It was then that he kissed Squall. Really kissed Squall, for the first time, a purely sexual kiss unlike any they’d ever shared before. Seifer coaxed Squall’s lips apart, sliding his tongue against the smaller man’s, whimpering against his lips. He didn’t want to stop kissing his lover, nor release him. Carefully changing the angle of his thrusts for Squall’s pleasure, he kept going.

Squall slid his hands down over the curve of Seifer’s ass, trying in vain to urge him deeper, trying to get him to move harder, but still, Seifer kept that slow, intense rhythm. No matter how Squall tried to make him move, he wouldn’t alter his speed or the rhythm. He would keep going just as he was; he would make Squall come slowly. “Shh…”

The smaller man whimpered as he sucked on Seifer’s tongue, a pleading noise escaping him as he shuddered. The flat of Seifer’s belly rubbed against his cock, streaking the tanned skin with his fluid, adding yet another edge of pleasure and need to Squall’s already strung out senses.

“I can’t wait to feel you come,” the older man murmured. He was as gentle and soft as he could be, nuzzling at the corner of Squall’s mouth and tasting his lips shyly. “Gonna come so deep in you, Squall…”

“Oh gods, please,” Squall half cried, half groaned. “Seifer, I…”

Closing his green eyes tight, Seifer clung to his lover and whispered against Squall’s shoulder “I love you.”

Squall’s hands tightened on Seifer’s ass, squeezing as he almost sobbed in need and longing. “Seifer, make me come, please.”

Finally, as though he’d taken pity on Squall and his obvious need, Seifer lifted Squall against him. Cautiously, still treating Squall as though he were made of glass and would break if he so much as breathed on him in the wrong manner, Seifer shifted onto his knees, leaning back on his heels to impale Squall on top of him. With his arms tight around his lover’s waist, strong, holding the deceptively slender body against him, Seifer began to grind against him.

He was still just as slow, just as careful, but every thrust seemed to go deeper now, tearing Squall apart with pleasure.

Through heavy lidded eyes, he watched Squall lose control. He watched the flush grow in his pale cheeks, and he felt Squall’s precome streaking his belly. “Come on, baby.” Seifer watched as Squall tossed his head, crying out softly over and over, his fingers kneading at Seifer’s back restlessly. And he watched as Squall came, his whole body shuddering.

Muffling his own low, urgent sounds against Squall’s throat, Seifer came only heartbeats after his lover, grinding into him as he spilled inside him. “Squall…gods…”

Exhausted, Squall slumped in Seifer’s embrace, aftershocks of pleasure tugging whimpers from his lips. He couldn’t even find his voice just yet.

Gingerly, Seifer settled Squall back on the bed, carefully slipping from his body and stretching out beside him, touching his cheek, not letting him go for even a moment. He simply admired Squall’s half smile, the fading flush of his skin and his kiss bruised lips. He’d done this to the stoic young man, to his beautiful ice prince, and he was damn proud of it. “That’s one very good example of why we should be together.”

Lowering his eyes to the evidence of his release that coated Seifer’s belly, Squall dipped his fingers in the drying fluid and lifted them to his mouth. “Sticky example,” he said, sucking them clean.

Even just watching Squall do that was enough to make Seifer’s eyelashes flutter, and send another rush of blood to his crotch. “You’re such a dirty thing,” he accused faintly. However, it wasn’t a complaint. Not in the least.

“Need to keep you interested,” the younger man murmured, shifting to lay forehead to forehead with Seifer, their scars mated, twin marks for twin souls. Of course, Seifer didn’t know the half of how dirty he really was and, if Squall had his way, he never would.

“You do that just by breathing.”

“Heavy breathing doesn’t count,” Squall smirked, drawing his fingers in restless random patterns over the skin of Seifer’s chest. He watched Seifer intently, memorising every fleck of silver-gold that lingered in those vibrant jade eyes, tracing every striation, every variation in hue as though he’d never see him again.

Seifer laughed, his voice soft, sweet and lazy. “I hope you don’t expect to get out of this bed tonight.”

“Kind of.”

That gave Seifer pause. He frowned. “I hope you have a damned good reason.”

Gently, touching Seifer in the same manner he himself had touched Squall all night; the younger man slid his fingers over Seifer’s cheek. He cupped it, tracing his thumb over the hard arch of his cheek bone and holding him right there. “I was going to say grab anything you can’t stand to leave behind and we can be in WinHill by dawn. But if you want to wait,” his voice trailed off.

Closing his eyes, Seifer chewed his lower lip thoughtfully for a moment. He permitted himself only one brief moment of doubt before he opened his eyes again, smiling as he cupped the back of Squall’s head and kissed him deeply, forcefully. His relief made him feel light and real and willing all over again. “You lead, I follow.”

“Is this what you want? This is big. Serious.”

He simply smiled. “I never imagined you’d offer it to me, to be honest,” he replied. Seifer couldn’t very well tell Squall that all along his romantic dream had been with him, that he’d always hoped for Squall, for a life with him rather than anything else. At least, not yet anyway.

“What, serious?” Squall chuckled softly, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah.”

The sheepish look to Seifer’s face was too much for Squall to resist a moment longer. He curled closer to his lover, snuggling against him, trying to ignore how good it felt to hold him with the pleasure ebbing in his veins and his release drying on his skin. “Just be thankful that I controlled myself.”

“Why?” the older man asked, brushing Squall’s hair back out of his eyes. The action made Squall blow up at the few strands that slid back into his field of vision, trying to brush them aside without moving. The skin at the edges of the bandages was reddening, and he couldn’t ignore the thread of guilt that wound its way through his heart.

“I nearly stuffed Cid’s sweater vest down his throat.”

Seifer snorted, resting his palm as close to the wounded shoulder as he dared. “He woulda deserved it. I can’t believe you gave it all up, Squall.”

A faint frown curved Squall’s lips. “Why not?”

“It was your destiny,” he replied, shaking his head in disbelief. He couldn’t put it into words any better than that – Squall had been destined to face Ultimecia, to save the world, to be the big hero. “It was your future.”

Squall shifted onto his elbow, leaning up to watch Seifer. His face was just as serious as it always was, yet his eyes had hardened to steel and the smile he’d worn earlier was back, perhaps a touch more wicked. “I don’t believe in destiny, Seifer. I wasn’t given a choice to fight Ultimecia, I admit, but I chose what happened afterwards. I chose to fuck my life up, it wasn’t scripted for me. Besides,” he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Seifer’s mouth. “My future is right in front of me.”

He didn’t answer. Nothing anyone had ever said to him had affected him the way Squall words were, no matter how many people had tried to lecture him or instil some sort of guilt or sense of duty in him none had ever succeeded. He lowered his eyes, letting his hand fall away from his lover’s chest.

“I just wanted someone to stay. Even you left when I needed you,” Squall frowned again, thoughtfully. “You’re the first one who came back though.”

Finally, Seifer looked up; wrapping both arms around Squall’s waist and squeezing him tightly, littering his throat with soft, small kisses. “I’ll never let you go. I love you so much, I thought I was gonna lose my mind while you were gone.”

“I’m right here. And I’m not leaving again.”

“So, we’re eloping to WinHill?” Seifer asked, unable to stop smiling for even a moment.

“Think you can take the quiet life?” Squall brushed his lips against the thick waves of Seifer’s hair, nuzzling his cheek against it. His eyes closed, he just revelled in the sensation of being in Seifer’s arms, being able to smell him, feel him again.

“I always was the easy going one,” he grinned.

With a soft chuckle, the younger man tipped Seifer’s head back to look at him. Squall couldn’t believe how content he felt, how right everything was and how much he wanted to stay right there with Seifer, even if his – or rather their – home was awaiting them in WinHill. “If you get bored, don’t blame me.”

“I’d follow you anywhere, Leonhart. You don’t need to hear me say it,” Seifer rubbed his fingers in tight circles at the small of Squall’s back. It was so very tempting to do more, to slide his hands over the curve of Squall’s ass, to take him, abuse and love him.

“No, but I like to.”

Seifer distracted himself from the thoughts of taking Squall again by curling right against his body, pressing kisses to the pale skin of his throat, trailing more across his collarbone. “There’s nowhere you could go that I wouldn’t follow. Hell, I was ready to waltz back to Balamb for you.”

“If you thought Balamb was boring, you’ll hate WinHill,” Squall said, thinking of the small town, the way they’d reacted to both his father and SeeD, although they had been a little understanding after the war when they’d known who Squall’s mother was. He couldn’t help but wonder what they’d make of Seifer.

“Not boring baby, just detrimental to my health. WinHill will be our home.”

“I have Ifrit, if you want him back,” the younger man offered tentatively.

“You don’t want him?” Seifer asked, looking surprised. He wanted the guardian force back, he wanted the power back – if only to protect his lover should anything else happen. However, he hadn’t expected to ever gain it again, the opportunity lost forever.

“I took him for you, I...,” he paused, a smile catching his lips. “I liberated Shiva, and we thought he should be with you.”

“Yeah,” Seifer closed his eyes. “I want him back.”

Squall tangled his fingers with Seifer’s squeezing reassuringly. “Besides, they don’t like being in my head at the same time,” he whispered, kissing Seifer deep and hard, allowing the magic of the Guardian Force to pass between them through that physical contact.

Seifer inhaled sharply against Squall’s lips when the familiar magic slid over his consciousness, the heat of Ifrit’s power settling in his mind as though it had never been gone. It had been so very, very long since he’d had that flicker of magic in his veins, that familiar fire at his beck and call. “Yessss,” he hissed, stretching languidly.

“Feel’s good, hm?”

“Hell, yeah,” Seifer gave Squall that little half smile, his eyes still closed.

“Just don’t cast any healing spells on me yet,” the dark haired young man murmured, trailing his thumb over his lover’s lower lip. He caught the frown that turned Seifer’s lips and sighed. “I can’t, Seifer.”

“Yes, but…” Seifer touched Squall’s injured shoulder carefully, afraid he would hurt his lover if he dared to press to firmly or use anything but the most cautious of movements. The memory of Squall turning away from him, his back and shoulder covered in blood and broken glass was vivid enough to make him feel sick to his stomach. “Why can’t I?”

“I left it too long before I took a potion. Tore the muscles and ligaments, they wired my clavicle up… Look, if I use magic or potions I’ll never get the same strength back,” Squall kept his voice in that smooth monotone, though his eyes pleaded with Seifer. He had to know what that meant – to never fight again, to never be able to duel with him again – and he had to know just how much Squall hated the idea.

With a heavy, tired sigh, Seifer brushed a kiss against the bandage, “I’ll just have to watch you and make sure you don’t make it worse.”

“We’ll have to wait a while to duel.”

“Not like I’m going anywhere, right?” the older man grinned.

Squall narrowed his eyes on Seifer, squeezing him possessively. Now he had the blond, he was never going to let him go. “Just you try it,” he dared softly.

He shook his head, still grinning, still touching the wound that he’d seen caused on that first night when he’d hesitated to help that silhouette that happened to remind him of Squall. If he had helped sooner, if he’d known it had been Squall all of this could have been avoided… but he doubted their relationship would have developed if he had intervened any earlier. “You’re stuck with me, cub.”

Squall seemed very pleased by that prospect, though Seifer knew it would change sooner or later. “Get dressed and get anything you want to keep. I’ll make coffee.”

Crawling over Squall and tickling his ribs on the way, Seifer gave him a mock salute. “Aye aye, Captain,” he grinned again and rolled out of the bed. He paused to watch Squall, wearing only that bandage and his shirt – which he tugged down as soon as he were upright once more – stood and headed off for the kitchen. There was still something beautiful about that form, especially know he was beginning to look better, now he was beginning to look more like himself.

“How much should I take?” he called out, though he didn’t really have all that much he did want to bring with him to this new life, this new opportunity.

“You know how I lived at Garden. I have one suitcase and a bag – take as much as you want but don’t forget anything you need,” Squall replied, lingering over the place he’d almost died before moving on to the kitchen. The dark carpet looked clean, but he knew the truth. He knew the stains, the blood in that spot were still there – just as the sins he’d committed, the lies and the years of denying his true self were still just under the surface of his skin. It would take time to wipe those out completely, but he was willing to try now.

“But what about all this nice furniture?”

“We can send someone for it if you want to keep it,” Squall shrugged to himself, letting the dark brew pool into the pot as the coffee maker gurgled away contentedly.

“You’re rich; you can buy all new stuff.”

Squall looked up to see Seifer in the doorway, dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt that stretched over his biceps. “I did kind of want to start over,” he said, shyly, pouring two cups of coffee as he watched his lover.

Slipping over, Seifer scooped Squall up, hugging him tightly and kissing his temple. “Sounds good to me,” he murmured, rubbing one hand over the curve of Squall’s ass and reminding himself that he wasn’t allowed to fuck Squall on the kitchen table. Not yet, at least.

“We’re going to take months getting the place in shape if you keep getting distracted like that, puppy.”

“It’s your fault,” the older man accused as he littered Squall’s face with kisses, cupping his cheek and rubbing his thumb over the younger man’s chin. Oh it was Squall’s fault. For breathing, for living for simply being Squall Leonhart and for making Seifer Almasy fall in love with him over and over. “All your fault.”

Seifer couldn’t prevent the sappy look that tackled him when Squall laughed softly; catching him by the collar and making him stay still.

“What’s that look for?”

“I love you,” Seifer murmured, his nose right against Squall’s, his gaze locked with the smaller man’s.

“So you keep telling me. Get. Your. Stuff,” he ordered, poking Seifer’s chest with each word. Squall was still smiling, the excitement of a new beginning making his eyes light up with eagerness, with happiness.

“I am ready. I came in here to see why you were dragging your feet,” the older man chuckled. Squall lifted one of the coffee mugs as though that were the only explanation needed. In fact, it was. “We should take the coffee maker.”

“Have one being delivered.”

“I’ll drive. But I’m not driving you around the countryside bare-assed like that baby,” Seifer spooned sugar into the coffee, swirling it with a nearby spoon and downed the mug in one.

Squall paused, frowning. “My car is outside. You are not driving my car, yet. It’s set up so I can drive it as I am.”

The older man looked utterly crestfallen at that. Like a child who’d just been scolded, or told he couldn’t have something he’d begged for for hours. “Oh,” he said, looking thoroughly petulant, and horribly disappointed. Squall felt something inside him break.

“You can tell me what you were doing while we were apart,” he offered. “All four years and one week of it.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Seifer asked, looking horrified.

Lifting himself on tip toes, Squall kissed the corner of Seifer’s mouth and nuzzled against him, seeking the warmth of Ifrit’s power and Seifer’s skin, longing to suggest they wait until morning and spend the rest of the night wrapped up in each other’s arms. But the prospect of spending that first night in their place was too much to resist. “I just want to hear your voice. I missed it last week.”

“Coulda called,” the older man muttered, still looking like a scolded child.

“What part of ‘I didn’t have your phone number’ don’t you understand?” Squall rolled his eyes and sighed. He was going soft, he decided. Either that or he was even more in love with Squall than he’d first suspected, that was the only explanation he could think of for the decision to just give Seifer what he wanted. “Alright,” he relented, watching Seifer’s pout fade and be replaced by a bright, boyish smile. “”You can drive if you want to, but if you break it I break your head.”

“Fair enough!” Seifer grinned and patted Squall’s ass as he steered him back to the bedroom to get dressed.

Within twenty minutes, they were on their way to WinHill. To their new life, to their new home, and to their future.

Thank you to the lovely reviewer who offered to beta but I am planning on rewriting much of this fic later this year. My existing beta is the one this fic is for.