My Room, My Rules

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

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

A/N: Karate stuff is partially remembered from my brothers (both black belts, both instructors, one owns the dojo). If it is incorrect, no disrespect is intended. My gerbil brain just can’t remember right. My clearest memories are of “Hey, let me show you this nifty move I learned last week!” and then I was looking at the ceiling/sky/whatever. Seifer - I can so sympathize. Corrections gladly accepted.

Chapter 5: Armed Truce


“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.

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


Zell sat on the bluff overlooking the ocean at sunrise. Clearing his mind and concentrating on his breathing, he let it all float away. Squall, Seifer, Odine; all of it. Only after his mind totally cleared did he pick up the pieces one by one to examine them.

Odine's issue had all of the Command Staff worried. The quirky scientist (face it, he dressed like a pounce, but he knew his shit - most of the time) was convinced they had an undocumented Sorceress on the loose. Reams and Reams of charts showed strange spikes in the magical field surrounding Balamb Garden. He swore that someone in the Garden was a new Sorceress, just awakening to their powers. One concern was that said newby Sorceress would blow up the Garden (or themselves) before they got control.

Another major concern was who would she draw as her Knight? According to the bow-wearing freak, the orphanage gang was especially vulnerable having grown up around Edea and thus were more in tune with the magical fields and GFs. Even now, Quistis and Rinoa were putting all new recruits under the microscope. Likewise, the orphanage gang was being watched for 'signs of aberrant behavior' or unhealthy interests in persons outside their circle.

So far, nothing. Well, the usual petty bickering. Selphie was about to break it off with Irvine ... everyone could see that one coming except Irvine. He may be faithful, but his looking was really getting on the pixie's nerves. And as for Squall, Rin had traded him a long time ago. They were still friends, and he was still her Knight, but Xu was her 'better half' now. Quite frankly, that was for the best. Xu had more time for her and went a long way to stabilize the childish outbursts.

Maybe that was Squall’s problem.

He needed someone (male or female) who could deal with his moods and even break him out of them without being too chippy, dippy, or bitchy. Well, bitchy in a bad way. Oh well, not really his problem, other than having to deal with Commander Frosty on a regular basis. Or the Ice Princess as Seifer would say.

Which brought him to his biggest problem.

Seifer.

Looking back, Zell felt a twinge of embarrassment at how he threw the gunbladist out of his dorm. All he said was that he was grateful. What was wrong with that?

BECAUSE YOU WANTED MORE, GIT.

The fighter’s eyes snapped open at the sudden migraine of Quetzalcoatl yelling at him. Hyne be damned, no wonder Seifer cringed why Ifrit talked to him. Quetz usually whispered when he talked to the fighter, but it seemed someone had been taking pointers from Ifrit. This time he was feeling it clear through to his bones.

IT WORKED FOR THE FIERY ONE, I THOUGHT I WOULD TRY. MAYBE THIS WOULD GET YOUR ATTENTION.

“Yeah, you got my attention, Quetz. Was that really necessary?”

MAYBE. HOW CAN YOU RESOLVE THIS WHEN YOU KEEP AVOIDING HIM?

“Ok, ok. I’ll go apologize. Right after the meeting Squall set up, all right?”

HE HAS A LOT TO DEAL WITH. PLAY NICE.

Zell signed in relief as the GF withdrew back into the depths of his mind. Checking his watch, he saw he had a half an hour before the one on one mentoring session Squall had set up. Typical of the overworked Commander, he forgot to tell the fighter *what* subject he was mentoring for, let alone *who* he was mentoring! Fighting styles, being gay in Balamb, proper use of hair gel, what?

Sometimes, being an instructor just plain sucked.

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

Being a student sucked the big one sometimes, Seifer decided as he approached the dojo. ‘Especially when I can’t remember the proper gestures of respect for the Sensei and the dojo. Extra especially when I am already in deep shit with the Sensei and haven’t been able to track his gorgeous ass down the past two weeks to apologize for whatever got me tossed out on my ear. Maybe it was this new Sorceress thing. Maybe I am being possessed again. That might explain how I fucked up with Chickie. Oh well. Here goes everything.’

Zell sat meditating as he heard the doors of the dojo hiss open. ‘Seifer’ his mind screamed, and his eyes snapped open. Watching in the full length mirrors, he was astonished as the gunbladist made his bows to dojo and sensei, then quietly seated himself outside the circle and waited to be noticed.

He couldn’t remember the older blonde *ever* giving any respect to any form other than his own. The former sensei had probably passed Seifer through basics just to get the disruption out of his class room when it became obvious that the martial arts were not going to be his specialty. ‘So why is he here now? What does a Master Gunbladist want with the martial arts? Is he my appointment? Or is he here for something else? Only one way to find out.’

The fighter crossed the room and stood over the kneeling blonde. “What brings you to the dojo, Almasy?” he asked neutrally.

“I would request assistance, Sensei.”

Zell narrowed his eyes. ‘Sensei, not Dincht or Chickie or any of the other nicknames Mr. Arsehole favored. A formal request then. Maybe. This better not be a ploy.’

“Are you my appointment, Almasy?”

“Yes, Sensei.”

‘So, he has gone through Squall to set this up. It better be legit or I won’t be the only one kicking his ass. But to go to such lengths, I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. But we don’t need any interruptions.’ The fighter considered the kneeling man a moment longer before ordering the doors secured. “What is your request, Almasy?”

“I would request instruction in hand-to-hand combat, Sensei.”

“Pull the other one,” Zell snorted. “You’ve had Basics and passed it.”

“Actually,” said Seifer carefully, “Sensei Nakazawa passed me through, though I never paid enough attention to actually learn anything at the time.” He blushed slightly. “I figured it was a waste of time since I already knew I was going to study the gunblade.”

“So why the change?”

“Protection, Sensei.”

The older blonde’s succinct answer floored the fighter. In fact, it was downright unbelievable. “Are you trying to tell me that you, a Master Gunbladist and ex-Knight, cannot defend yourself?” The skepticism and scorn were rife in within Zell’s voice, covering the anger that someone had threatened his bully to the point he thought he needed protection.

“Not without causing an incident, Sensei,” Seifer replied quietly.

“Explain.”

“Sorceress control, Time Compression, the way I lost my Sorceress, and escaping Time Compression have all taken their toll. Physically, mentally, emotionally, psychically. I’ve lost Hyperion. The new gunblade just doesn’t ‘feel’ right and I am having problems adjusting to it. My timing is off. I am not currently up to Master status by any stretch of the imagination. And let’s just say that magic is not currently an option.”

“I thought you could junction. You said Ifrit and Carbuncle would junction.”

“Yes, Sensei.”

Zell waited patiently, but when it was obvious that the gunbladist wasn’t going to say anything else, he prompted, “And the reason you can’t use magic is ...”

The gunbladist immediately turned bright red despite his tan.

“Seifer, I can’t help if I don’t know. Why can’t you use magic?” his tone was only curious, not disdainful or contemptuous.

For the first time, the bigger blonde met his gaze. ‘At least we seem to be back to ‘Seifer’ instead of ‘Almasy’. That’s progress, I guess.’ Taking a deep breath, he blurted out, “No control.”

“What?!?” the little blonde dropped down, then sat back on his ass as he stared at the ex-Knight in disbelief. “There is *nothing* wrong with your control,” he said with a blush of his own, remembering that fateful weekend. Control he had. Enough for three people.

Seifer grinned lopsidedly, showing that his mind was running on the same track before amending, “I have no control over my magic. If I try to cast Fire, it comes out Firaga. Fira becomes Flare. And don’t you *want* to know what Firaga turns into.”

“A certain scorched island near Centra Ruins?”

The gunbladist nodded glumly. “I *told* Squall that I really needed to practice away from Garden. Until then, I don’t think he believed me. Probably wouldn’t have then except he was with me and saw how it went out of control. We’d have been toast if he hadn’t summoned Shiva.”

“So what has all of this to do with training?”

“Self defense. And control.” He met that clear electric blue gaze. “Look, I don’t want to be a Master of Martial Arts. I just want to know enough to be able to go into town solo and hold my own. Right now, if I get cornered by some Galbadian rednecks, I’ll end up burning down half the town. Then I gotta explain that shit to Squall, and he’s got to deal with everyone else. That was the *only* restriction he put on me coming back to Garden. ‘Don’t do anything that I’ve got to explain.’ I’m *trying* to keep it low key, Zell, but these walls are really starting to close in!”

Seifer took a deep breath and paused, raking his fingers through his hair. He was afraid to look up at the fighter, afraid of the horror and the rejection he would see there. He sensed Zell moving and braced himself for the worst. When it didn’t come, he peered up at the little blonde through his lashes. Zell had sat back up on his knees and cocked his head to one side, looking for all the world like the chicken Seifer had dubbed him.

“And I didn’t help matters, did I?”

“What?”

“Here you already have your problems with control, fear that if you stood up for yourself that you would get kicked out, then I have to go and make it worse by my stupid pranks. Hyne! Seifer, I am *so* sorry!”

“Dincht, you have *nothing* to be sorry for!”

But Zell was on a roll. Bouncing to his feet, he paced, speaking quickly and listing his many transgressions and how they must have added to his burden. At first, Seifer was amused, but as the rant and self-recrimination continued, his amusement faded.

“... and then, two weeks ago, I took your clothes and locked you out of your room. Oh Hyne! No wonder you gave in so easily! There was *nothing* you could have *done*! Fuck! I am *so* sorry, Seifer! I ...”

Zell was silenced by the long warm finger laid gently upon his cupid lips. “Dincht, you have *nothing* to apologize for. You were the only one who accepted me back with no reservations, no sidelong looks, no turning away, ... I can’t tell you how much that meant to me, then and now. Look, I don’t know what I said that made you so angry, but whatever it was, *I’m* sorry. I never wanted to hurt you or offend you. Please forgive me.”
“Se-Fe ...” Zell just shook his head, stunned. The gunbladist had *never* apologized to him before. “There is nothing to forgive. I overreacted. But I should apologize for ... you know ...”

Seifer sighed dramatically and asked in a very put-upon voice, “What do you need to apologize for *now*, Chickie?”

The martial artist glared up at the bigger blonde. Suddenly, Seifer was staring at the ceiling.

“Do *not* patronize me!” the fighter hissed. “And do *not* call me Chickie!”

The strawberry blonde looked up at him for a moment, his mouth open, ready to argue, then closed it with a snap. A speculative look entered the warm emerald gaze. He cocked an eyebrow and smiled lazily. “Sorry, Dincht. Forgot the dojo is your Room too. Like the mirrors, though.” He licked his lips like a cat licking cream.

Zell looked stunned for a moment, the a crafty look crept over his features before he visibly shook it off. “But that doesn’t forgive what I did to *you*, Se-Fe. I ...”

“No, Dincht. There is nothing to forgive. Thank you for the pranks, they broke me out of my pity phase. We’re square.”

“But I trapped you in my room! I then I practically ra...”

Again, the stocky blonde was cut off by a finger on his lips. “Let it go. It was mutual.”

“But ...” he sputtered into the finger.

“No, Zell. Let it go,” Seifer’s voice was deep and husky. “I wanted it. I wanted you. I still do.” A hopeful light flared in the cyan gaze as the restraining finger began brushing softly across the cupid bow lips. “I’m just don’t want to fuck this up, ok?”

The fighter nodded, and the restraining finger fell away. He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. The gunbladist could almost see him mentally changing gears. “So ... are you serious about the training?”

“Definitely, Sensei. As I said, I’m not looking for Master status, just to not get my arse kicked on a regular basis. At least not by the non-professionals,” he added with a wry grin and a sly wink.

Zell grinned back. “Ok, private classes then - no need to stress you out in front of the cadets! How ‘bout evenings, 7 to 9?”

“Thanks, Dincht. I owe you one.” Seifer held out his hand.

“You’re welcome, Se-Fe,” Zell smiled back as he took it. “And yes, you do.”

TBC