My Room, My Rules
folder
Final Fantasy VIII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
11
Views:
850
Reviews:
31
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Final Fantasy VIII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
11
Views:
850
Reviews:
31
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Final Fantasy VIII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
My Room, My Rules
Square/Enix (Squix?) owns all. Characters used without permission, yada, yada, yada. Plot mine though!
Take places a year or so after the Final Battle. Seifer has returned and has picked up where he left off with the SeeD training, hoping to finally pass the tests.
Lemon, Lang, M/M, Slash - Did I leave anything out?
Chapter One - Locked Out
Seifer prowled the hall restlessly as he muttered dire threats. 'Someone is gonna pay!' he fumed silently, careful to keep his trenchcoat closed. This weekend monumentally sucked the big one. Raijin and Fuujin were out of Garden on a mission - Rinoa needed help at Timber (again). Damn, they made Galbadia withdraw, got rid of most to the other resistance groups, and that twit *still* couldn't keep it together without someone holding her hand.
Actually, the weekend had started pretty good. Most of the cadets were home for Hyne's Week, so the Training Center was blessed empty of everything but monsters. He got in an excellent workout with his new gunblade. He hated breaking in a new weapon, but Hyperion was lost to the trickeries of Time Compression. There hadn't been any one in the showers either. At least that's what he thought. When he found that practical joker who dared to prank the Great Almasy, he was gonna KILL him. Or her. Or whatever.
Never again was he gonna use the showers at the Training Center. When he got out, his trenchcoat sat neatly folded on the bench with his boots stowed beneath. The rest of his clothes, however, were *gone*. Obviously, there was someone running around Balamb Garden with more teeth than braain cells.
Growling, he keyed in the code for his dorm ... and stood there dumbfounded as the Garden AI refused his entry. Checking the door - yes, it was his - he carefully keyed his code again.
"Access denied," cooed the husky computer voice again.
He typed in his alternate code.
"Access denied."
The Disciplinary Committee's Override code.
"Access denied."
The Master Code he had lifted from Squall's desk two days ago (honestly, what was the point of having codes if you are going to leave them written out on a sticky note stuck to the monitor).
"Access denied. You have attempted to enter five times. One more incorrect code and Security will be notified. You have been warned."
Seifer froze. That was the last thing he needed - trying to explain to Security that no, he wasn't a flashing perv, he just had been locked out of his room. He shook his head, getting a few glances from a couple of cadets walking by. He glared threateningly as one of the guys checked out his calves, easily visble in the gap between trenchcoat and boots. He headed for the general access panel for Garden to contact Maintenance. They could bloody well open the fucking door.
"I'm sorry. Our offices are closed right now. Please contact us during our business hours of 7am to 7pm weekdays, and 10am to 4pm on weekends. Or you may leave a request and it will be filled in the order it was received. Your business is very important to us. Thank you and have a nice day."
He checked the chrono in the corner. 4:05. Fuck. The frustrated blond debated on doing a little rewiring with his gunblade. Oh yeah, the blade was missing along with his clothes. That joker is gonna pay. Lots. And lots. He groaned as he let his head fall forward and thump the panel. Where on Hyne's world was he gonna hang out (hide?) until tomorrow? Catching a reflection on monitor, he spun (carefully) to face his favorite victim, Zell Dincht. Well, damn. Any port in a storm.
"Yo! Chicken Wuss!"
The fighter stopped halfway into his room. "Don't call me that! And what the fuck do you want?!?"
"Shut up, Chickie!" snapped the taller blond. "I'll tell you inside!" He shouldered past and into Zell's room, pausing to notice how immaculate that room was as the smaller man secured the door.
Suddenly, he crashed to his knees as Zell lashed out with a vicious leg sweep. A tickle at the base of his throat told him he had been Silenced. The fighter grabbed the collar of his trench and pulled back, causing the taller blond to arch back before losing the coat all together. Snarling, he started to turn on the smaller man only to have those strong fingers thread through his hair and yank his head back, forcing him to keep the arch. The other hand jabbed a pressure point and his vision greyed momentarily.
Electric blue eyes snapped as the fighter leaned closer to whisper in his ear. "My rooom, my rules," purred the little blond. "You fuck with me, and I will paralyze you quicker than shit. You chose to come in here. You will *not* attempt to bully me here. You. Will. Obey. Me. Or I will toss your naked arse out like yesterday's garbage. Squall and consequences be damned."
Take places a year or so after the Final Battle. Seifer has returned and has picked up where he left off with the SeeD training, hoping to finally pass the tests.
Lemon, Lang, M/M, Slash - Did I leave anything out?
Chapter One - Locked Out
Seifer prowled the hall restlessly as he muttered dire threats. 'Someone is gonna pay!' he fumed silently, careful to keep his trenchcoat closed. This weekend monumentally sucked the big one. Raijin and Fuujin were out of Garden on a mission - Rinoa needed help at Timber (again). Damn, they made Galbadia withdraw, got rid of most to the other resistance groups, and that twit *still* couldn't keep it together without someone holding her hand.
Actually, the weekend had started pretty good. Most of the cadets were home for Hyne's Week, so the Training Center was blessed empty of everything but monsters. He got in an excellent workout with his new gunblade. He hated breaking in a new weapon, but Hyperion was lost to the trickeries of Time Compression. There hadn't been any one in the showers either. At least that's what he thought. When he found that practical joker who dared to prank the Great Almasy, he was gonna KILL him. Or her. Or whatever.
Never again was he gonna use the showers at the Training Center. When he got out, his trenchcoat sat neatly folded on the bench with his boots stowed beneath. The rest of his clothes, however, were *gone*. Obviously, there was someone running around Balamb Garden with more teeth than braain cells.
Growling, he keyed in the code for his dorm ... and stood there dumbfounded as the Garden AI refused his entry. Checking the door - yes, it was his - he carefully keyed his code again.
"Access denied," cooed the husky computer voice again.
He typed in his alternate code.
"Access denied."
The Disciplinary Committee's Override code.
"Access denied."
The Master Code he had lifted from Squall's desk two days ago (honestly, what was the point of having codes if you are going to leave them written out on a sticky note stuck to the monitor).
"Access denied. You have attempted to enter five times. One more incorrect code and Security will be notified. You have been warned."
Seifer froze. That was the last thing he needed - trying to explain to Security that no, he wasn't a flashing perv, he just had been locked out of his room. He shook his head, getting a few glances from a couple of cadets walking by. He glared threateningly as one of the guys checked out his calves, easily visble in the gap between trenchcoat and boots. He headed for the general access panel for Garden to contact Maintenance. They could bloody well open the fucking door.
"I'm sorry. Our offices are closed right now. Please contact us during our business hours of 7am to 7pm weekdays, and 10am to 4pm on weekends. Or you may leave a request and it will be filled in the order it was received. Your business is very important to us. Thank you and have a nice day."
He checked the chrono in the corner. 4:05. Fuck. The frustrated blond debated on doing a little rewiring with his gunblade. Oh yeah, the blade was missing along with his clothes. That joker is gonna pay. Lots. And lots. He groaned as he let his head fall forward and thump the panel. Where on Hyne's world was he gonna hang out (hide?) until tomorrow? Catching a reflection on monitor, he spun (carefully) to face his favorite victim, Zell Dincht. Well, damn. Any port in a storm.
"Yo! Chicken Wuss!"
The fighter stopped halfway into his room. "Don't call me that! And what the fuck do you want?!?"
"Shut up, Chickie!" snapped the taller blond. "I'll tell you inside!" He shouldered past and into Zell's room, pausing to notice how immaculate that room was as the smaller man secured the door.
Suddenly, he crashed to his knees as Zell lashed out with a vicious leg sweep. A tickle at the base of his throat told him he had been Silenced. The fighter grabbed the collar of his trench and pulled back, causing the taller blond to arch back before losing the coat all together. Snarling, he started to turn on the smaller man only to have those strong fingers thread through his hair and yank his head back, forcing him to keep the arch. The other hand jabbed a pressure point and his vision greyed momentarily.
Electric blue eyes snapped as the fighter leaned closer to whisper in his ear. "My rooom, my rules," purred the little blond. "You fuck with me, and I will paralyze you quicker than shit. You chose to come in here. You will *not* attempt to bully me here. You. Will. Obey. Me. Or I will toss your naked arse out like yesterday's garbage. Squall and consequences be damned."