Unexpected

Chapter 5: Die!


The blond turned to watch Kera.

Earlier, he’d been too distracted with his predicament to really look at Almasy for the first time in a long time—to take in changes in the blond—but he vaguely noticed the tip of the ponytail swing; some of the long almost soft-looking strands brushed to stick to and contrast the blond’s black . Ve. Very long hair.

“Rinoa won’t mind if I borrow you for a bit, right?

He raised his eyes to meet Almasy’s as the blond shifted to look at him; bright green eyes. They were disturbing given the faint lines on the blond’s face. Hardship.

“But I’ve never been very good at returning things,” Almasy bragged.

“What are you planning?” But did he really have the choice now that he knew Almasy was still running around, causing trouble? Almasy had never faced sentencing—let alone that the blond was clearly up to something now. He felt he needed to care even if he didn’t want to.

“I told you; none of your fucking business unless I say so,” Almasy said.
The blond had begun walking towards him. The arrogant expression nor the hostile bearing towards him had changed, however; he could understand…somewhat…at the least; what had the blond really done with himself after the sorceress’s defeat? But he had more pressing matters to think of.

As Almasy approached him, Almasy seemed larger than before. Had he been that distressed earlier? The blond had grown at least two inches taller; he hated being short. Neither had he invited the abrupt anxiety, no matter how subtle, at his throat. But he wouldn’t move—not for the blond.

An even brighter expression spread on the blond’s face although for his defiance or intimidation, he didn’t know, truthfully.

“Who’s the pussy now,” Almasy said.

He balled his fists and took a firm stance. “You wish.” Almasy stopped about a meter from him. It was unsettling when the blond had Hyperion and he had only his fists minus all the skills that had dwindled with time and zero practice; he didn’t need the crime Almasy had committed swimming in his mind to add.

“Yeah?” Almasy lifted his chin—the greens glistened as they looked down on him.

He suddenly felt the other close a light grip around his left wrist, at once reacting. He had no time to mentally beat himself, once again, for carelessness.

The handle quickly tightened, crushing—Almasy simply glared. The blond had managed getting in his face again, towering in a sickeningly smug yet tense way. He felt his fist…shaking?

“Then why are you trembling?” the blond said.

“Fuck off.” But that seemed inadequate. “Get your dirty hands off me.”

The blond violently pulled him against him and painfully grabbed at his jaw to force his attention. “No Leonhart,” he said dangerously. “You wish. You wish you were in control,” he twitched his head to match the assertion. “But you’re not. God you’re pathetic. A fucking weakling now,” the blond shook his head, disappointed.

He felt the fingers dig even deeper into his face and suddenly felt the need to retaliate. He slugged Almasy, riled. And his jaw hurt.

Almasy was astonished, holding his cheek. The blond’s eyes blazed and hesitantly glanced to Hyperion before returning on him. Hyperion was tossed and the blond surged forth.

His shirt was grabbed and he took the fist to his face before he blocked another blow and swung for Almasy’s gut.

“You’re dead!” the blond screamed, having recovered quicker than expected.

Dismally, he wondered why Almasy had abandoned his gunblade, especially if the blond wanted to kill him now. He dodged more damage to his face before he rushed and hurled his body at the blond. They slammed against the ground and began kicking and punching each other in bone-crunching strength. Almasy clawed at his face and he pulled wrathfully at the blond’s hair. Funny.

He snorted at what they had both become as he returned the blond’s venomous attacks.

“You want to die that bad? Should’ve told me sooner,” Almasy grated out.

“The only one who’ll die is you,” he answered. He kicked the blond’s groin; it was cheap but it worked. The blond had been strong but he’d been faster. As always.

Almasy groaned on the ground as he curled in on himself. He would have done the same.

Some critical damage had been dealt to his thigh and he limped to go retrieve Hyperion more than a few meters away. He walked back to Almasy, careful not to underestimate his ex-rival as he stood far enough away to see the blond’s every capable manipulation.
“You’re not going to do anything, Almasy, and I’ll make sure of it this time around.” Even for all the blond’s crimes, however, he couldn’t help the forever damned softer nature that had developed with the coming of Rinoa and Leon. He violently and desperately pushed any grain of sympathy aside and speedily stepped towards the prostrate blond—he stuck the blade in the blond’s left thigh.

“Agggh!”

Then the other. Almasy cried pitiably.

But the blond deserved it. And more. “Don’t think I don’t know what you did to Kera.”

Almasy howled as if to laugh in his pain. He tried talking. “That…that was....” The blond laughed miserably. “…the FUCKING point—you…you think I would have fucked her up…” He breathed hard. “…without fucking her?!

But he wasn’t surprised.

“Oh....” He laugheakleakly some more. “You’re living in a fucking dream world.”

All those years and the same Seifer Almasy. The same…fucking attitude. For him anyway; the teasing, the taunts—not so much the immediate truths behind them.

He was sick of it.

out out another thought, he staked the gunblade in the ground and tore off his already torn t-shirt (from earlier with the redhead). He shredded the shirt into three durable strips and caught Almasy’s eyes. The blond was quiet now, probably attempting to endure the holes in his thighs, most likely.

He walked over to Almasy once more, obviously meaning to gag the blond, but the blond threw a couple punches. He easily countered.

“You’re going to pay for this Leonhart.”

He gagged the mouth…then he bound the blond’s wrists at the back. “Go to hell Almasy,” he spoke, tired. He didn’t care that the blond would bleed to death.

The blond squirmed a little before he stilled completely.

He walked over to the princess. They would escape. And he would find her help. The help he had failed giving.


End5


a/n:

Hopemia – this is a Seifer Almasy X Squall Leonhart fanfiction. If you doubted because of the rape or anything that departs from any chemistry between the two, I wanted that (for now); this fic isn’t meant to be a directly-to-sex PWP. I stay away from flat-out PWPs because they don’t do anything for me (for SxS anyhow).