To Trust A Cop

Beta: working on it
Notes: I wouldn’t be surprised if I disappoint half of you, me dear readers.
Maybe I should go bury myself under a very heavy rock...


39

He was hurting before he was awake. Every inch of skin and every muscle he didn’t even know he had ached and felt sore. Squall was going to commit murder. Seriously. It was only a matter of making a good plan. Some secluded place, like the graveyard where he could hide the body in a tomb. Since the person he intended to kill was rather good at fighting, he couldn’t rely on strength. Poison then. A slow, slow painful poison.

“Come now, kitten, can’t feign sleep the whole day,” the bastard said right before poking the brunet in the back.

Squall made an inarticulate growl and turned his head to glare at the cop. Hyne, he wanted to kill. Maim, hurt, kill. Seifer smirked in amusement but he still didn’t sit down at the edge of the bed. Squall kept glaring while fisting the pillow hard and grounding teeth. Smug bastard. Looking so relaxed and satisfied while Squall didn’t even want to move.

“You have no right to look so happy,” the brunet said sullenly.

The cop tilted his head as if studying an especially moody child. Squall rested his head on the pillow until only his eyes were visible. They were soon covered by brown hair.

“And why’s that?” the cop hummed and dared to sit down.

“You know why, bastard!” Squall hissed.

He slowly managed to turn to his side as to fully glare at the man.

“I hate you, I see you again I’ll kill you!” he growled.

It managed to slap the smirk from soft lips. It made amused green eyes go a little hard around the edges.

“Watch your tongue, boy, I’m in a good mood, don’t change that,” Seifer threatened.

It made Squall’s stomach tighten a little which only made him angrier.

“Like I care what mood you’re in. I’m not afraid of some idiot block that uses drugs to kidnap people!” Squall hissed, hand fisting on its own.

“No? I should have hit you instead?” Almasy growled.

“You shouldn’t have been there to start with. Are you spying on me?”

Green eyes narrowed and became dangerous enough that Squall by instinct prepared for flight.

“I should have let you go of on some suicide game then?” he said between clenched teeth.

“It’s none of your fucking business! Why’d you care so much anyway?” Squall shouted back.

If this was going to turn into a fist fight, he’d gladly take the man on. By the look in hard eyes it very well might escalate to that. Seifer, however, made the uncharacteristic thing to take a breath that visibly relaxed the large body.

“You seriously think I want to see you dead?” he asked lowly.

Squall glared and bit his tongue to not shout yes like a stubborn child. How could he keep shouting like an immature boy when the cop managed to rein his temper? The brunet crossed his arms and leaned back against the headboard. Carefully. He was sore like hell.

He hadn’t really thought about the race. He didn’t want to think about it right now. He wanted to keep ranting and shouting at the cop. Still his pride told him to not get below the man. If Seifer could rein his temper and start speaking again, so could Squall. Didn’t mean he forgave the man.

“It bloody well felt like it,” he muttered.

It made the bastard smile and Squall glared. The brunet dragged his knees to his chest and circled them with his arms. Apparently the blond took it as invitation because he leaned closer until they almost touched.

“You deserved it, you know that. I warned you a long time ago not to speed,” the cop murmured and softly stroked his lips along Squall’s forehead.

It was irresistible. How could he not take the chance? The brunet rammed his fist on top of the blond hair, causing the man to howl in pain and quickly retreat to a safer distance. Squall made sure to glare a warning for retaliation as Seifer recovered and glared himself.

“You have a serious temper issue,” he muttered and massaged the hurting head.

Squall snorted, “Look who’s talking.”

The blond shrugged but smirked as he rose and stretched. He was already dressed in that strange grey trench-coat that Squall had seen one or two times.

“There’s a lady coming to take care of you. You better do as she says or I’ll put you over my lap, understand?” Seifer said simply.

“What’d you mean taking care?” Squall asked suspiciously.

“Just do as she says. You’re not getting any clothes until I’m back anyway, so you can just enjoy the treatment,” the blond smirked.

Squall felt his blood pressure rise again.

“You’re leaving? Where, why? What treatment?!” Squall shouted as the man opened the door for the room.

“You’ll like it,” Seifer promised before stepping out and closing the door.

After a few shocked moments, Squall franticly looked around the room for clothes. A bed, which he was in, a damn lot of hurtful looking tools and torture devices but not a fabric of clothes. He couldn’t really have left Squall there without clothes? And what lady? What treatment?

Squall jumped high and quickly grabbed for sheets to cover his naked, very marked, body as the door was knocked and opened. Squall’s heart was up in his throat as a girl stepped inside. She was dressed in some short skirt almost showing her panties and a tight blouse.

“Good morning mr Leonhart, are you ready for your bath?” she smiled brightly.

Squall slowly made himself relax. A bath. Of course. Maybe breakfast too. When thinking about it he was starving. He slowly nodded and she left the door and stepped over to a cupboard.

“It’s prepared already, if you’d like to come with me?” she explained and took out a dark satin bathrobe.

Reaching his hand for it proved futile as she only stood a few steps from the bed and held it for him to easily slip inside. If he left the bed and if he turned around. She smiled and shook the bathrobe to make him move. Damn sinister bastard. The cop was a dead man walking.

*****

For being a cop, the martial artist blended very well with the general gangsters. Standing by a corner of a house shadow boxing just made him look even more like some criminal. Then again, that was the purpose.

Seifer walked up to the man who stopped to only jog at place when seeing him.

“Yo! You look awful,” Zell smiled.

Seifer arched an eyebrow. He stroked a thumb along his chin when taking a drag from the cigarette. There was some stubble and he guessed he hadn’t slept much but it shouldn’t warrant such a comment. So he narrowed his eyes at the martial artist.

“Careful what you say, Dincht, I wouldn’t say that standing in your shoes,” he muttered.

The lithe blond had cut his hair and styled it to look like a lot of spikes. He had some stylish beard following the line of his jaws too. Still, it didn’t hide the tiredness or rough edges. Hyne knew undercover work took its toll on you. The blond had been under for months now, no wonder he looked like a living energy engine. Zell shrugged but stilled and scratched his hair.

“That guy hasn’t left the apartment, what’s this about anyway?” the martial artist asked instead.

Seifer threw away the cigarette and eyed the apartment building. What it was about? Revenge maybe, or him just being feed up with the rat ass. He wasn’t really sure, just that he was tired of the addict messing with his stuff.

“Irvine misses you,” he mentioned.

Zell arched both eyebrows.

“What have you done now?”

Seifer blinked down in surprise.

“What’d you mean I have done? He misses you, what does that have to do with me?”

“Whenever I’m gone the captain asks Irvine to tell you stuff, so naturally you’ve done something,” Zell grinned.

Seifer cursed under his breath and tried punching the little nag. Of course Zell just chuckled and danced out of the way like gravity didn’t apply to him. He then stood there jumping in place.

“Just get your ass back to whatever sleazy bastard you’re working for,” Seifer sneered.

The lithe blond just chuckled.

“Tell Irvine I’m soon getting back in, I got a feeling something’s going to happen soon,” Zell grinned.

“Just don’t get yourself killed,” Seifer muttered.

“You’re telling me that?” the other cop grinned before spinning around and jogging off.

Seifer shook his head. Of course he told the idiot to not get himself killed. If half of that energy was put into some brain cells, Zell might actually have some iq worth mentioning. But Zell was more raw strength with an unyielding sense of moral and wrong and right. A good cop, as long as someone was able to direct all that hyperactivness.

The blond started walking towards the apartment building. The irritation was back. Just for a moment he had felt somewhat peaceful. He wasn’t really there to kill the leech. Not really. The little shit had overstayed his welcome weeks and weeks ago. If Squall couldn’t throw him out, Seifer would. He didn’t exactly know what that implied or meant and didn’t care to analyze it.

The door was locked as he tested the handle so he punched the bell instead. At least something had stuck in that bean-shaped brain. He had to hit the bell another five times before he heard a call. Another ten to twenty seconds later and there was someone trying to get the door open.

He wasn’t surprised to see the man half asleep and looking like he had a hangover lasting for a week. It took some time before dark eyes widened in recognition.

“Hi… eh, Squall’s not home like….”

Seifer ignored it and pushed his way in. The apartment was littered with clothes and a few beer cans. There were magazines lying around and a pizza on the kitchen table. The bed wasn’t made and the bathroom floor was wet. Squall was always so neat.

There were a lot of things in such a small apartment and still the youth had managed to make it look neat and comfortable. It was the small things, Seifer guessed, that made the big impression. It made him… furious to see the place in such a mess. It had been messy ever since that rat ass had started living in it.

“Look, Seifer was it right, Squall’s not coming home for a while he’s like… on a vacation so…”

“Vacation is it?” Seifer growled.

He glared at the criminal who quickly looked at anything and everything except Seifer. To imagine that this trash had actually been Squall’s lover was… revolting. How had Squall ever accepted the man? Desperation probably. Young and desperate for somewhere to live probably.

“Pack your things,” he growled.

The blond clenched his fists in his trench-coat pockets until nails dug into his palm. He wasn’t there to hit the man bloody.

“W-what?”

“Pack your damn stuff or I’ll drag you out like you stand,” Seifer growled and glared.

Say no. Then he could truly do some damage.

“I don’t think that’s…”

The blond stalked closer and it was the only thing needed to make the man shut up and stumble into the wall.

“Right, my stuff, I, like a moment,” Nida breathed and inched around Seifer.

It took more than a moment for him to gather his stuff that was spread all over the apartment. Seifer waited patiently outside the apartment while telling himself to not just grab the man about the neck and haul him downstairs.

Squall would probably throw a fit. It would pass. Probably. Anyway. Better do this now when he was already pissed off than wait until he had calmed down and then drop next bomb. Seifer had no doubt in his mind that there would be hell to pay. He’d give the youth a week to cool down, then check his mood.

Nida finally came out, dressed and packed in a hurry. Seifer held out his hand for the keys.

“Look man, Squall will wonder you know? And he can get worried and stuff and have he told you anything? I mean, it’s his apartment and I think he’d tell me to move if he wanted me out,” the dark haired man whined.

Seifer locked the door before turning around. Nida gave a meek yelp as the blond grabbed the front of the jacked and banged the man in the wall. He easily lifted the criminal a foot above the floor.

“Listen carefully, you little shit, I see you here again I’ll kill you. I hear Squall mentioning you making trouble for him, I’ll kill you. Understand?” he growled and shook the man once.

Nida frantically nodded. Seifer let him down with a shove.

“Get lost.”

The man stumbled backwards with his stuff before hurrying downstairs. Pitiful bug. It felt better afterwards. Some of the irritation had left him. Outside he had to lit another cigarette. So for the real problem… He didn’t feel remorse for putting the youth through the night. He had been furious.

Seifer was old enough and experienced enough to understand the whys and wherefores, it didn’t make it easier. He didn’t want to mix in the word “love” but it was becoming increasingly harder to say it was a casual relationship. He just didn’t know what he wanted and that was unusual. Made him irritably and that could just turn nasty.

The blond sighed heavily as he started walking back to his car. Why couldn’t things ever stay uncomplicated?

*****

A simple bath and breakfast, she said. Enjoy the treatment, he said. You’ll like it, he said. He was going to kill Seifer.

Squall howled and clutched to the bench he was laying on.

“Relax, this will soon be loose,” the man encouraged.

Squall hissed as the thumbs were worked down even harder.

“Not fucking possible!” he cursed.

The man ignored his wailing and stubbornly kept up the pressure. Hyne, how could anyone willingly put themselves under this kind of torture? The thumbs let up and the big, oily hands stroked him again. Next torture. Squall couldn’t help but lay tense like a board. He had a right to as the evil thumbs pressed down again and made him howl again.

“Seriously, how can you function with all this tension? Just relax,” the masseur encouraged and stroked large hands along the stripped back again.

Easy for him to say. He wasn’t being tortured by strangers. What was Seifer thinking? Did he truly think Squall would enjoy this… this bloody massage? It wasn’t so much the pain from having those sore, hard muscles being kneaded that made him uneasy. It was the whole concept of him being naked and freely letting a complete stranger touch him in such a way.

Squall gasped at a particular spot that made bright lights dance in front of him. Just finish already. The hands shifted again and this time they dipped very low. They were kneading the small of his back and suddenly shifted to his buttocks. Squall was to hiss a protest as evil thumbs pressed down again and pain so sharp and bright it made him cry out and jolt shot through him.

“Stop,stop,stop,” he said with breathless desperation.

The man let up the pressure some, but not completely. One large, warm hand pressed down in the small of his back.

“You work in a factory?”

Squall didn’t answer and didn’t care to know how he knew that, just tried breathing through the pain.

“This is typical strains when you carry too heavy things in a wrong way too long. You ought to see a chiropractor to fix you up. There are a lot of unhealthy strain in your body, but you already knew that right?” the masseur said calmly and let up to use his whole palm on the hurting area.

Squall breathed heavily, feeling as exhausted as after a rough night of sex. He’d never ever come back here again. Ever. He’d had to be dragged there drugged silly, which he had been. Two complete strangers had seen him butt naked and seen those quite embarrassing marks.

The thumbs were pressed down again and this time harder. Squall made an involuntary whine and dug his nails in the bench. Hyne, was Seifer really so mad at him that he wished this embarrassment upon Squall? What had he ever done to warrant such torture?

“Tell me when it doesn’t hurt so much,” the masseur said calmly.

“It won’t,” Squall complained and noted the whiny quality to his own voice.

Not that he cared. Not when it hurt so much it felt like his nerves was trying to tie themselves together in complicated knots. Forever and ever the evil man held those damn thumbs on that damn spot and quite suddenly the pain subsided. He could breathe again. Until the man put more pressure and next session of torture began.

Squall guessed that the man wasn’t really evil. He guessed the masseur was good at his job and professional and all that. Didn’t change the fact that it hurt like hell or that Squall was desperately wishing to get away. The man shifted sides and places plenty of times.

He talked a lot. He didn’t seem to know how to be quiet. After a while half of the babbling just past by without registering to the brunet. Strangely enough there was less and less pain. There came a time where Squall was drifting while the skillful hands worked.

“I leave you for an hour or so and you drop back down to sleeping.”

Squall blinked, wondering when the man had left and Seifer had returned without him noticing. His naked body was covered with a very soft and warm blanket. The youth slowly shifted to sitting and his head felt heavy and groggily. Like it did when you slept heavily for only a little while and rudely woke.

Seifer ruffled his hair and Squall swatted at him in annoyance. He was tired, not a child. The bastard should be grateful that Squall was as tired as he was at the moment. What little energy he’d had when waking up had completely disappeared. The brunet blamed the sadist called masseur.

“You ready to go or do you want to stay another few hours?” Seifer grinned while handing the youth clothes.

Squall quickly grabbed the clothes and glared as good as he could. The blond leered and Squall gave another more appropriate glare. Getting up to a standing position took more effort than he had thought. Every muscle was watery and weak and his head didn’t really want to clear up. He’d experienced it many times before when he had worked night and stuff like that.

The youth turned his back on the man to dress, not necessarily a safe thing to do, but he felt oddly modest. It suddenly hit him that without the race money, Nida’s debt wouldn’t be paid off. Sure, there were other races… He felt strangely uneasy about it. It was the bastard’s fault. Squall barely heard the soft steps on the cop.

“I’m angry,” he hissed as the blond made to approach.

“You haven’t cooled down yet?” Seifer chuckled.

Squall carefully took on his t-shirt and then turned. He didn’t say anything, just started on his boots. Cool down… Easy for him to say.

“I want to go home,” he said lowly.

“Sure,” Seifer nodded and turned for the door as Squall took on his jacket.

“And I want my keys back,” he growled.

Seifer smirked.

“Can’t fool you, can I?” he said with a distinct amused tone.

He took up the motorcycle keys and Squall grabbed them while being careful not to touch the other. Cool down. He’d show what cool down really meant. He’d give the bastard frostbite!

As they walked out Squall noted, which he had already suspected, that they was in that club. Whatever its name had been, he didn’t remember at the moment. The day was grey and chilly. Walking brought back some strength but also aches. Or soreness to be precise. Whatever oils the masseur had used it must have been some pain relief mixed into it.

Thankfully the cop didn’t say anything. He seemed to have gotten the message that silence was the only thing permitted. Once in the car, the youth sunk down in his seat and closed his eyes. What would he tell Nida? What would they do now? There was no other way, that Squall saw, that could raise any amount of money anytime soon.

He hated, just hated, the feeling of guilt and responsibility that he felt. He shouldn’t, they weren’t together and Nida was older than he. Nida problem should be solved by Nida. Squall shouldn’t feel so responsible. Like when he did when they actually lived together like a couple. Or something. And why did the bastard cop think he had the right to “punish” Squall. The nerve!

When he wasn’t so tired and sore, he’d deal with it. In some suitable painful way.

“You have a couple days off, right?” the blond asked calmly.

“So?”

“So you don’t really have to sleep then?” the cop leered.

Squall glared icily and made a point of ignoring the man. Like he’d spend any moment longer than necessary with the blond. Seifer didn’t seem to have been serious about it, because he didn’t push it. Though it made the brunet apprehensive about the part where they reached his apartment. If the blond became pushy, Squall wasn’t sure he had the energy to chase the man off.

They soon reached the apartment complex and Squall straightened in his seat. Maybe he would find another race, tell the cop about it at the last minute and then race. Just to piss him off? The youth stepped out of the car.

“Don’t do anything stupid, like trying to go to Winhill,” Seifer warned.

Squall looked inside and glared. Seifer didn’t give in though, he just stared the youth down.

“If I want to race, I’ll bloody well do that,” he hissed.

“Sure, go ahead. Don’t complain when I drag you back to Red Satin though,” Seifer said dead serious.

Squall straightened and banged the door closed in a childish fit of anger. He stomped off to the building much the same. Just try and follow him. Squall hadn’t reached the door before he heard the car drive off. It surprised him enough that he turned to look after it. That was… unexpected. Or maybe not. Just maybe the insufferable man had learned a thing or two?

Squall walked up to the apartment feeling an odd mix of exhaustion and relief. It was the kind of relief that came with him finally being alone after being around people for too long. He couldn’t help it. Sometime other people drove him insane.

The door was locked, which it should be since Nida ought to be at work. He tiredly closed and locked and took off boots. He put the jacket on a box and frowned. Something was off. The brunet shrugged and made his way to the bed, where he stopped. Something was definitely off.

It took a while before he realized what it was. The apartment was neat. Nida seemed to have actually cleaned up his stuff. There were no clothes or magazines littering the floor. The youth looked around to get a clue as to where the man might have put it. He didn’t find anything but a black bin bag full of pizza stuff and bear cans. At least the man had tried.

Squall frowned at it and took it out in the kitchen where it should be if you didn’t go out with the stuff. Out in the kitchen he dumped the bag in a corner and then narrowed his eyes. There was a piece of paper on the oven. What was a piece of paper doing there? The youth picked it up and had to read it twice.

:: I had to leave. Sorry. /Nida ::

Squall blinked at it. It was hastily written which made the handwriting almost impossible to read. Nida always had had bad handwriting. What did he mean he had to leave? Was it those guys he owed money? Had they returned? Squall’s stomach knotted some at that thought. Then again, why would he be allowed to take his stuff with him? Of course.

Seifer.

“Son of a bitch,” Squall hissed and tore the paper apart.

Fucking bastard. Who else could it be? He had probably come and kicked Nida out. Just to be sure Squall searched the apartment for the man’s stuff. The brunet wasn’t surprised at not finding any.

That was the reason for Seifer just leaving. Squall made a growl and paced the apartment. Stupid, idiotic beast! He had no right to do that. Oh, was Squall going to give him hell?


Author’s Note:
Probably this chapter left you all wanting something else, right? But fact is I actually sympathize with Seifer. Street races don’t belong on the road. ;^^