My Room, My Rules

Square/Enix (Squix?) owns all. Characters used without permission, yada, yada, yada. Plot mine though!

Zell protects his own.

Lang, M/M, Slash, Plot (scary, huh?)

Chapter 4: Prankster Revealed


"You know, Sir," the redhead replied. "If Dincht is leveling the playing field after all those years of Almasy bullying him, that's his gig. It's not up to us to interfere. Sir."

The Commander stared at the redhead for a moment, then looked around at the nervously nodding heads. "If you all feel that way, why are you here?"

"'Cause they're soooo looouud!" wailed a female cadet.

Huh? "Whatever. Go to the cafeteria and get breakfast while I sort this out." Squall shook his head. What the fuck was going on?"


***********************************


Seifer stood under the shower, allowing the hot water to massage his sore muscles. The friendly competition Dincht had challenged him to was killing him. They would work each other up to the edge of orgasm and then quit. Sexual frustration was a keen knife edge, and it was slicing him to ribbons at the moment. Each of them was out to make the other cave first. He could almost taste the little blonde as he thrust into that tight, muscular, hot ass ... ‘Stop it! He told himself, ‘or you’re gonna lose it before you even start.’

The gunbladist started in surprise as the sound of a blizzard filled the dorm room. Seconds later, Zell walked into the bathroom as the taller blonde toweled off, a large paper bag in his hands.

“What’s that, Dincht? You bringing out your toy collection?”

The fighter simply smiled and pointedly looked down at Seifer’s still achingly hard cock, twitching at his own words. “Does that excite you, Se-Fe?” he purred, trailing his fingers down the golden length. “Do you want to play with my toys?” His other hand stroked up the gunbladist’s wet chest to curl behind his neck, drawing his head down.

Seifer bent down willingly. Dincht could do this thing to his ears with his tongue that drove him crazy. He arched his neck, giving full access to the little blonde. Already practically purring at the hand palming his balls, he moaned in delight as the fighter began licking his way up his neck. He was just about to turn into a puddle of goo when Zell sank his fangs into the tanned column and began to suck voraciously. The bigger blonde tried to jerk away, but the strength of the hand on his neck and the squeezing of his balls quickly deterred him. He groaned and relaxed as the martial artist moved to a new spot and started again. The constrictive grip shifted and pulled at his cock as he began to rock his hips.

Zell released the gunbladist when he finished the line of marks down the bigger blonde’s throat. He smirked as Seifer looked into the mirror and paled at what he had done.

“Shit, Dincht,” he said exasperatedly. “How am I gonna explain *this*? Everybody knows I ain’t got a steady fuck right now!” His eyes lit with the most evil shade of green. “Maybe if I give you a matching one ... “

The fighter smiled back just as evilly. “If you think you can ...” he challenged.

Seifer stepped back and regarded the smaller man. “I hear a ‘but’ in there.”

Zell’s grin grew bigger and artfully innocent as the sounds of a blizzard once again filled his room. “You sure? One more round? Let me suck on that nice big cock while you scream my name out one more time?”

The strawberry blonde was tempted, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Dincht was Up To Something. “Rain check,” he answered carefully.

The stocky fighter’s grin morphed into a more natural one. “Ah well, can’t blame a guy for trying.” As the sound of a blizzard filled the dorm for a third time, he swiped up a pair of pants and headed for the door. “Keep your pants on, Leonhart!” he hollered. “I’ll be there inna minute.”

“You ... and he was at the door ... and you wanted me to ...” Seifer sputtered.

Zell paused at the door to the bathroom and looked back. Catching the bigger blonde’s eye, he licked his lips and stared pointedly at the other’s crotch. Seifer growled as he felt the heat pooling again as he hardened once more. The fighter giggled and practically skipped through the living room, leaving the gunbladist frustrated and cursing like a sailor.

Seifer glared after the cocky little blonde. ‘I *knew* he was Up To Something!’ Remembering the bag, he cautiously opened it. And nearly went after the smart ass little shit, Squall or no. ‘So *that’s* how it is, huh?’ He debated on whether to put his own clothes back on, but decided not. Evil grin back in place, he rifled through the closet until he found some black skater shorts that would fit. ‘Thank Hyne Chickie wears his clothes waaaay to big.’ Even so, the black denim barely stretched over his ass.

Looking at the shirts, the gunbladist found the perfect one to get back at the martial artist. An emerald meshie reflected his eyes and accented his sculpted chest instead of just covering it. Clad in only those two items, he grinned evilly at the mirror and strode out to confront the Chicken Wuss.

Rubbing his hand across his bare chest, Zell listened to the Commander with half an ear. Most of his attention was focused on the bathroom, straining to hear the bigger blonde’s reaction when he opened the bag. ‘What is gonna do?’ the platinum blonde mused. ‘How will he react to being set up? Is he gonna come out fighting? Will he turn it over to Squall? Will he ...’

The fighter’s breath caught in his throat and Squall ceased to exist. Seifer stood leaning against the door frame ... ‘wearing my clothes! Hyne, those shorts look spray painted on. Hey ... wait a minute! That’s *my new meshie* ! I hadn’t even taken the tags off of it yet! Mmmmm ... it *does* look better on him. Delicious!’ He reclined in the chair once more, semi-listening to Squall as he drank in the sight of the gunbladist moving about, content to sit back and watch the view.

Seifer moved about the room, not particularly quiet, yet not making his presence know to Squall either. He grabbed his boots and trench, putting that back in the bedroom. He was actually listening to the Ice Princess gas on as he collected his gear. Obviously Chickie wasn’t, because he would have exploded by now. The Commander was on his soap box again, lecturing the little blonde on decorum and proper conduct within the Garden. The gunbladist’s eyes flared dangerously as he realized *why* his Chicken Wuss was being reprimanded.

“I mean *really*, Zell. I’ve got a dozen cadets in my office complaining about you and Seifer fighting! I expect it from *him*, but you should be able to control yourself by now! Why can’t you just walk away? You *know* how he is!”

At Seifer’s darkening scowl and step forward, Zell snapped out of bemused state and exploded out of the chair. “Drop it, Squall!” the fighter’s voice came low and deadly as he stared down the Balamb Lion. Both Squall and Seifer froze in shock. Squall had never heard the martial artist speak with such authority, and Seifer only once previously when he had been on his knees before the little changeling. “First of all, none of us said shit when you and he went after each other *repeatedly* with gunblades, so you have *no* basis to criticize if he and I spar now. Secondly, until it affects my job performance, said sparring is allowed under Garden law. And third, look around, shithead. Is anything broken, out of place, screwed up? Am *I* broken? No? Of course not, fuckwad, because I *wasn’t fighting* in the first place!”

Squall blinked and looked about dazedly still unaware of Seifer’s presence behind him. He was more than a little stunned at Zell’s diatribe.

“And furthermore, as for ‘how he is’, let me assure you, I know exactly *how he is*!” The fighter’s cheeks flushed slightly at this, but he plowed on determinedly. “When he first came back, he was more withdrawn than you *ever* were. Pardon me for preferring an overbearing arsehole to the wounded bird who walks on eggshells, afraid that if he looks crosswise at anyone that he will be kicked out of the only real home he has ever known.”

Zell stood inches from Squall, staring the Commander down despite his shorter stature. His next words weren’t for Squall alone, but he was afraid he was about to lose what ground he had gained with his former bully. That uncertainty fed his anger at the brunette and gave him the strength to say them. “Do you have *any* idea how much shit I had to pull before he would even look me in the eye?!? How many pranks before he would call me names like he used to?!?” The fighter’s voice swelled in volume and Seifer swore he saw sparks arcing through the platinum hair. “And now! Now that I have *finally* gotten a reaction ... *finally* broken through that shell, you want to get *pissy* about a little *yelling*?!?”

Squall fell back, dropping heavily onto the couch behind him. Bemusedly, he stared up at the outraged blonde. “You’re right.”

“Huh?” It was the fighter’s turn to be stunned, totally thrown off by the Commander’s easy capitulation.

“You’re right. I’ve been so busy with Garden and Rinoa and Odine that I didn’t think to look at things for Almasy’s point of view. I really need to talk to him ...” And with that, Squall got up and staggered from the dorm, never realizing the person he wanted to speak with stood not six feet behind him.

Glancing up through his lashes at the gunbladist, Zell expected to see an angry scowl and hear a biting remark. Instead, Seifer simply smiled, a warm glow softening those clear emeralds eyes.

“Nice speech. The Chickie has talons.”

“Well it’s true!” he said defensively. “I would rather you be the insufferable stuck-up prig you used to be that what you were when you came out of Time Compression!”

“Thanks, ... I think,” Seifer smirked, though wincing inside at how closely his description matched Ifrit’s.

“Ya, well,” Zell looked embarrassed for a moment before switching tracks. “And just how *did* you get out of Time Compression anyway?!?”

“Better question for you, Chickie, is how an insufferable stuck-up prig is gonna retaliate to all those practical jokes of yours. You just made me realize that my room does *not* have the sorriest wiring in all of Garden, nor am I losing my mind or losing my stuff. As a matter of fact, I am pretty sure you hacked the AI and got me locked out of my room. You wanted that old Seifer back; you got him, babe. In spades. Now, how do you think ol’ Seifer would react to these transgressions, hmmmm?” He stalked toward the little blonde, smirking. “Let’s start with you taking my clothes from the Training Center. How would ol’ Seifer make you pay for that one?”

The fighter licked his lips nervously and began to back away slowly. “Ummm,” he stalled as the back of his legs hit the chair. He tried to tear his gaze away from the golden ripple of muscle sheathed in forest green meshie, only to have it trapped by the line of dark purple trailing from the strong jaw down to said meshie.

Seifer loomed over the stocky blonde, yet the finger that traced the lines of his tribal was surprisingly gentle. “Thank you.” The bigger blonde’s voice was husky, yet sincere.

Zell blinked up at him. “Wha ...”

“Thank you. For breaking me out of my funk.” He smiled down contentedly at the hopeful grin breaking over the martial artist’s features. “I’m really gratefully for that.”

For a split second, Dincht froze, a look of disbelief etched upon his face. Then his rage took him, and Seifer Almasy, Knight of the most powerful Sorceress the world had ever known, finally understood how the Chicken Wuss had stood at the shoulder of the Balamb Lion to defeat Ultimitia. The powerful fighter was literally shaking with fury, and though his eyes were still clear cyan blue, the gunbladist could feel the electricity in the air.

“Grateful?!?” he hissed, and Seifer began to realize he had fucked up royally. “Grateful?” Zell’s voice rose an octave and about 50 decibels. “You *think* I went through all of that for you to be *grateful*? You Hyne-damned, arrogant, egotistical, self-centered, self-worshiping son-of -a -Sorceress!” He clenched and unclenched his hands spasmodically. “What make you think I would want your fucking *gratitude*?!? Get out!”

“Dincht, I ...”

“GET OUT!!!” And with that, Zell picked up the bigger man and threw him bodily out of the dorm room.

Seifer picked himself up off the floor, prepared to go back and apologize. Raising his fist to pound on the door, he was cut off before he even had a chance.

“Door secured.”

The emotionless voice of Balamb AI told the gunbladist exactly where he stood at that moment. On the outside ... desperate to be inside ... yet again.


TBC


A/N: Zell just strikes me as a computer geek. And why not set up your dorrbell to announce which of your friends are there, like ringtones? Squall's a blizzard, Irvine a gunshot, etc. Originally, I had some really good stuff about the GF's, but I think it is taking away from the main plot line too much. Might put it as its own story arc though, once this one is done. Doc says I can't go back to work so the chapters ought to come pretty fast for the next week or so. Enjoy! - RentaiKitten