The Kisses and the Bruises

AN: Please don't hurt me. I really wanted to have this chapter up a long time ago, but lots of stuff happened. But right now, no more stalling; read on!!

~*~

Chapter Three: Dance with Disaster

Squall sighed as he glanced around the dark atmosphere of the area he was currently bartending. It was a slow night, leaving him not very much to do and he found himself checking the clock behind him for the third time that hour. The glowing red numbers read 1:34am, only about two and a half hours until Squall’s shift ended for the night and he’s be back at 9:00pm the next day to do it all over again.

“Starin’ at that damn clock ain’t gunna make time go by any faster,” a raspy voice said from beside Squall.

He looked over his shoulder to see his co-worker wiping down the already clean surface of the bar’s counter. “I can dream, Cid,” Squall said before he turned back to the clock; 1:35am.

The older man laughed as Squall leaned against the back counter so he was facing the open room and ran a hand through his hair. He’d been having trouble keeping himself busy over the past few days, ever since he quit his other job. He found that he wanted to spend more and more time with Irvine, just to pass the time. They’d watch a movie together or Irvine would sit in the kitchen and talk about all kinds of things while Squall prepared meals. And when he wasn’t with the teen, he realized that he couldn’t keep his mind off the boy.

What’s wrong with me? Squall thought. I’m not in love with him; he’s just a kid.

It’s okay to be in love, the little voice in the brunet’s head reminded him.

Not with Irvine, Squall countered, absent-mindedly smoothing the pads of his fingers along the scar on his forehead. I raised him …

The man didn’t have very much time to think about it because he was brought from his thoughts when one of the regulars waved at him from a stool on the other side of the counter. “Hey,” the redhead slurred. “Gimme another drink. And make it a Hell Fire.”

Squall glanced over at Cid, to see the man shaking his head, before he turned back to the customer. “Sorry Reno,” he said. “You’ve had enough alcohol for tonight. The only thing you’re getting is water.”

Reno made a huffing noise and turned to look at the man sitting beside him. “This is Leon,” the teenager informed the blond, gesturing to Squall. “He’s always tryin’ to look after me. Tryin’a sober me up.”

Squall resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the kid. “You’ve been in here every night since you turned nineteen,” he commented. “Of course I’m looking after you. If I didn’t you’d drink yourself to death.”

“Reno, your birthday was three months ago,” his outraged companion almost yelled. “You come here just to get drunk every night?”

Squall took the time to actually look at the blond when the man spoke. He was fairly good looking with gravity defying spiky hair. He couldn’t help but notice the way his blue eyes seemed to glow in the dark, almost as if something was making them sparkle from it’s depth.

“Aw, calm down, Cloud,” the redhead sighed. “Leon’s just joking. I don’t come every night.”

Cloud crossed his arms on the counter and glared at the blond. “I doubt that he was lying.”

“Cool it,” Cid said, walking over to join the conversation. “Squall’s just treatin’ Reno the same as his kid, is all.”

“It’s Leon,” Squall automatically corrected.

“Whoa, Leon’s got a kid?” Reno looked on with awe. “When did that happen? Who’s the mother?”

Cid smirked down at the redhead. “His sister,” he said simply.

“W-what?” Cloud said, almost choking on air.

“No way,” Reno said before he burst out laughing. “But I thought you’re gay.”

“Cid, stop that,” Squall said, his anger rising. Since when did his personal life become the subject of everyone’s gossip? And Cid’s compulsion to lie was really starting to get on his nerves. “He’s not my son. And she wasn’t my sister.”

“So let me get this straight,” Cloud said, frowning at Squall. “You’re taking care of some random chick’s kid just for the hell of it?”

The brunet glared. “Not ‘just for the hell of it’. I have my reasons. Rinoa wasn’t my sister, but we shared a foster home together. I’m taking care of her son because I’m the closet thing to family he has.”

Cloud nodded. He seemed to be going over all the information in his head. “But you’re still gay, right?” he asked after a moment.

Squall glared, as if to say what the hell do you think?

Reno leaned over and put his arm around Cloud. “Of course he is,” the teen said. “This is a gay bar after all.” He stared giggling madly and added as an after thought, “the only one who’s not is Cid.”

“Why’s that?” Cloud asked.

“Because he got fired from all the other bars around town,” Squall supplied, eyeing his co-worker with a frown.

He turned around for a second to look at the clock again, this time the red numbers read 2:06am; Squall sighed. It's going to be a long night.

~*~

“This is suicide,” Zell said for the third time following Irvine and Selphie down the hall of Garden Academy. “Complete suicide. He’s going to kill you.”
Selphie turned around and glared up at him. “Will you be quiet?” she asked. “Nothing bad is going to happen.”

“Yeah, relax,” Irvine said, turning the corner and heading for the exit of the school. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“But I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Zell insisted.

“It’s probably just those four hotdogs you wolfed down at lunch,” Seifer mocked from his position beside the other blond. “And your whining is getting on my nerves as well.”

Shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants, Zell glared over at Seifer. “What the hell are you doing here anyways?” he asked.

Seifer shrugged. “It was half my idea,” he said. “I wanna see what’s going to happen.”

The four stopped as they reached the end of the hallway and looked out the window of the door to the schoolyard. “I see him,” Selphie said after a moment of searching. “He’s over there at the picnic tables.” She pointed to the left, at the boy sitting by himself at one of the tables.

“D’you even know what you’re going to do?” Seifer asked, standing over the short girl to get a look at Irvine’s target.

“No, I’m not sure yet,” Irvine said looking over as well. “Somehow I need to get him to help me with the plan.”

“But why does it have to be him?” Zell asked.

“How many other gay guys do you know that would be willing to help me out?”

“But -”

“There’s no one else,” Irvine said. “It has to be him.”

“He’s not even the big bad ass that everyone thinks he is,” Seifer commented.

“See, Zell,” Selphie said looking at the blond. “Irvine’ll be just fine. Just have some faith, kay?” She turned to Irvine and gave him a good luck hug. “I’m sure if you just asked him nicely, you two could make some sort of deal.”

“Yeah,” he said, hugging the small girl back. “I’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Zell looked glanced over at his friends and shook his head. “I still think it’s a –”

“Just shut up,” Seifer said, putting his hand over the smaller boy’s mouth to silence him. “Irvine, just go already before Zell has time to whine about it more.”

“Right,” Irvine agreed. “I’m going.” With a last look over his shoulder at his friends, he pushed the door open and stepped out into the sunlight letting the big metal door close behind him.

Irvine casually strolled up to the picnic tables and stood next to the lone boy sitting there. The brunet began to play with the end of his sleeves out of nervousness when his presence didn’t seem to faze the other teenager. “Mind if I sit down?” Irvine asked, hoping he didn’t look as awkward as he felt.

Piercing red eyes stared at the brunet through a long veil of black silk hair. The teen shifted in his seat to look up and down Irvine a few times, but he didn’t say anything.

Irvine took the silence as a sign that he wasn’t welcome, but he sat down beside the other anyways. Before he had a chance to say anything else, the guy shifted again and suddenly there was something sharp jabbing into his side. Irvine looked down and saw his reflection staring back at him from the knife’s shiny surface.

“You got a death wish, kid?”

Irvine swallowed hard, for the first time realizing just how stupid his idea was. He forced his eyes back up to the boy who was threatening him and tried to stay calm. He had a plan and he wasn’t about to chicken out now just because some tough guy decided to pull a knife on him.

“No,” he replied with a surprisingly relaxed voice. “I just –”

“Just what?” the teen asked, pressing the blade harder against Irvine’s side. The pressure was enough to cut the fabric on his shirt but not Irvine’s delicate skin.

“I just,” he repeated, forgetting what he wanted to say; the seriousness of the situation was starting to kick in and he decided that it would be best to start over. “You’re Vincent Valentine, right?”

“Yeah,” Vincent said. “Now that you know my name, go home to your mother before I really start to cut you open.”

“I don’t have a mother,” Irvine immediately responded. “She died.”

Vincent pulled the blade back slightly, and he frowned. Irvine could tell that the other was unsure if what he said was the truth or not. The brunet didn’t really care if the other teen believed him or not; he was determined to get Vincent to help him with his plan one way or another.

“What do you want?” Vincent asked after a moment of silence. He put his knife back to wherever he had been hiding it before.

“I came to ask for your help.”

“Not interested,” Vincent said.

“Just hear me out,” Irvine pleaded. “You’re the only one who can help me.”

“I don’t need your problems,” the older teen glared. “Just get one of your friends to help you. Or are you going to tell me that you don’t have any as well?”

“I have friends! They just don’t have the right …” the brunet paused, searching for the right word. “Requirements for what I need.”

Vincent narrowed his eyes at the other. “What do you mean ‘requirements’?”

“Well, um, they’re not …” Irvine stopped himself from saying something that might insult Vincent and make the older teenager actually spill some of his blood this time.

“They’re not?”

“It’s complicated,” Irvine finally said. “I’ll explain everything if you agree to listen to my plan.”

“Whatever,” Vincent sighed. “Just spit it out already.”

“Ok, ok,” Irvine started. “I have a crush on this guy –”

“You’re gay?”

“Yeah,” the brunet blushed. “Well, I guess. Squall’s the only person I’ve ever really liked. But the problem is, I’ve never seen him go out with anyone, so I don’t even know if he likes men or women. Hell, I haven’t even heard him talk about anyone that he likes.”

“Ok,” Vincent said, thinking it over. “So where do I come in?”

“Well, I had this really stupid plan that if I could just tell him that I’m gay and see his reaction, I could tell if he’d hate me or not and if he doesn’t hate me then I’d be able to tell him that I like him, because I don’t want him to suddenly disown me or something.”

“Whoa,” Vincent said, putting a finger to Irvine’s lips to silence the younger teen. “Who exactly is this guy that he’d disown you if he didn’t like the fact that you’re gay? Is he your brother or something, because I’m not helping you in any way so that you can get it on with your brother.”

Irvine glared and pulled out of arms reach from Vincent so he could speak. “Squall is not my brother! And he’s not related to me at all, he’s just my guardian,” he explained. “My parents didn’t have any family so when they died, I was going to be sent to a foster home until I could be adopted or whatever. But my social worker was able to find Squall. He was a guy that my mom shared a foster home with briefly before she turned eighteen.”

He paused going over the memories in his head. Irvine hadn’t even told any of his to his best friends and there he was, spilling pieces of his past to a guy he’d just met. What the hell am I doing, Irvine thought. I just need to convince him to help me, I shouldn’t be telling him everything about my life.

“Anyways,” Irvine continued. “He’s only my legal guardian until I turn eighteen. That’s all you need to know.”

“So what’s your big plan?” Vincent asked.

“Well,” Irvine started. He suddenly felt very light headed and he was sure that his cheeks were burning bright red with embarrassment. He realized that he didn’t know how to tell Vincent about what he needed the other boy to do. “Well,” he repeated.

“Are you ever going to tell me, or are you just going to sit there and stare at me until lunch is over?”

“I need Squall to catch me with someone,” Irvine finally decided on the words as he blurted them out rather unexpectedly.

Vincent raised an eyebrow at the brunet’s statement. “So something like a pretend boyfriend?”

A pretend boyfriend. The words echoed in Irvine’s mind. That’s exactly what he needed, and it was an easier way of putting it. All he had to do now was somehow get the older teen to agree to help him out.

“Yeah, a pretend boyfriend,” he couldn’t help repeating it, letting the words roll off his tongue, it sounded so right in his ears. Maybe things would start to get better from this point. Irvine didn’t have a clue, but he hoped it would get better; all he needed was Squall to love him and everything would be perfect.

“And by ‘someone’, you mean me, right?”

Irvine was pulled from his thoughts and he made eye contacted with Vincent again. He guessed that his face was completely red by now and he fidgeted with the end of his sleeve. “Um, yes.”

Vincent nodded, standing up from the picnic table. He lifted one leg, stretching the muscles awkwardly as he stood in front of Irvine. The brunet shifted his position, back leaning against the table as he looked up at the other. “Your plan is ridiculous,” Vincent said, reaching into his pocket and lighting up a cigarette.

Irvine looked away, staring at nothing as he felt all hope leave him. He regretted asking Vincent in the first place, he had no right to drag the other into his problems, but somehow he knew he would have regretted it even more if he hadn’t tried. He smoothed his head over his hair to rub at the back of his neck before letting it fall back to his lap. “Ok, I understand,” Irvine said pushing off the table to stand up as well. He didn’t realize how close Vincent was when he was sitting down; standing they were less than an inch apart. Irvine stood as still as he could, mesmerized by the way the older boy’s cold eyes bore down into his own. He found himself wondering what it would be like to lean up and press his lips against Vincent’s.

He was ripped from his thoughts when Vincent roughly shoved him back down in the seat. “I didn’t say you could leave yet,” the older teen said, straddling the boy beneath him. Before Irvine knew what was happening, Vincent’s hand had both his wrists pinned on the hard surface of the picnic table and another hand was in his ponytail, forcing his head back.

“What are you doing?” Irvine asked. He started to panic and squirm underneath the older teen, only making Vincent hover over him closer and press against him harder.

“Shut up,” Vincent growled, his breath ghosting over Irvine’s lips as he shifted closer. Vincent’s grip was so tight around his skin that it was cutting off the circulation to Irvine’s delicate hands.

“You’re hurting me,” Irvine said faintly. But the look of pure fear reflected in Irvine’s eyes only seemed to add fuel the fire that was Vincent.

“I’ll play your little game,” he said using his free hand to roam from his prisoner’s soft hair down his chest to rub his palm along the brunet’s bony hip. “I’ll be your little matchmaker. So long as I get paid.”

Vincent gave Irvine one last shove into the picnic table as he pushed himself off the boy. He leaned in again, close to Irvine’s head and whispered something into his ear.

As Irvine watched the other’s retreating from, he couldn’t help but wonder what he had actually gotten himself into. He shifted into a more comfortable position after stretching out the abused muscles in his back. Zell’s voice sang threw his head like his best friend was actually there beside him. “I told you this was a bad idea,” his imaginary Zell taunted.

“Shut up,” Irvine replied out loud. He fisted his hands in his hair just as the bell ran signaling the end of the lunch period. Sighing, Irvine stood up straightened his uniform and began to walk towards the school as Vincent’s lasts words echoed through his mind.

“And I don't mean with money."

~*~

AN: Ok, the end here is a little messed up ... And actually the beginning is a little messed up too. And for all the people who realized that the names of the drinks that they serve are the names of the attacks from the GFs in VIII, give yourself a pat on the back (that sentence really didn't make any sense, but oh well).

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I hope you will continue to read and wait for more chapters to come.

This chapter is deticated to ninja chipmunks.

July 7, 2007:
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