Box

Box

I don’t know what to say anymore. I don’t even know what to think anymore. I’m stuck, in a box (with a bed and a toilet) moved by a crane when it suits the men upstairs. I’m given food at random intervals, breathing in recycled air, given books that I’ve long memorized. The only thing that I have that they don’t know about is a tiny piece of memory stone that was brought in to me. I can record my thoughts.

It would seem be useless, but it’s in the shape of my cross and I can’t help but like it. I’ve etched it with the only good memories I’ve had. Very few. I find my memories are clearer in the stone, but when using it, they come to the surface of my mind and I can remember every minute detail. I can remember almost everything.

I’m always anxious in here. I’m always waiting for my cage to shift, for the meal to come, for my mind to dream. At first, I only had nightmares but it soon changed. My dreams became like my memories. There are no cameras in my cell. They don’t need them. Though people are allowed into my cell for certain periods of time, there’s never any danger to them. I’m not as strong as I used to be.

Mind or body.

I can remember fuzzy bits and details of what happened before, and this is my mission- I’m to meditate on it, to think on it, try and access what the sorceress told me before I am either released or damned to stay in the prison. It keeps people coming back and I like people. Well, like is not the right word, not when they beat me or taser me or set me on fire. I need people, though. They keep me sane in this desolate place.

I’m running out of information. I don’t really have anything left. Why they keep coming is a mystery to me. I smirk. Well, there’s really only one who’s come back, and that's because he’s been successful in getting me to talk.

A beeping sound informs me to position myself for transfer. That’s an official statement included but all it means that my box is going to be swinging wildly on a crane, so I’d better lie down unless I want to get sick or slam into a wall. I smirk, adjusting myself on the bed. Already, I’m preparing for who will walk in. Already, I’m stirring and excited. I try hard to ignore the tent growing in my pants.

It always takes the crane forever, but luckily I do not have to wait too long. I am counting the time in heartbeats, and they come faster and faster the more I move. I wonder if they’ll go so fast they’ll turn into one long beat.

My curiosity is lost as the moving stops. I sit up and watch the door with hunger inside me. I am still smirking.

The doors open, and he steps in like he always does. He looks at me and I don’t look back. I’ll pounce on him.

“Seriously, Seifer, are you even going to pretend anymore?” he asks, stepping in and the door closes behind him. He’s been instructed on how to contact the outside, how much time he has, how to phone in an emergency.

Bastard knows what day it is, too.

He sets something down on a nailed in box on a shelf so it won’t move around, then stands over me as the cells
starts shifting again. I speak. “Did you bring food?” I ask.

“Of course,” he states, and sways a bit as the room rocks. “Pineapple. Dried. Like you requested.”

The game is starting. He sits on the floor, where he always sits. He has no idea how dirty I’ve made that floor by thinking of him sitting there.

It won’t kill him if he doesn’t know.

“Begin,” I tell him as the cell moves, swaying and swaying. I can’t help it that I’m excited to see him. I’m excited to see anyone after maybe weeks of no one. I tremble at the idea of having a real conversation, to hear real words and not just the people in my dreams.

“I’ve heard from Fujin and Raijin,” he starts, and he hands me a small letter. “They’re still trying to get you out.” He watches me as I stare at the letter. There is plenty of time to open it, I think, so I slip it into a book, some sort of romance novel. Sometimes the print on the page switches around and it becomes an adventure novel, and sometimes a mystery, so I don’t really know. The half-naked woman on the cover suggests it was meant to be a romance novel, though-

Zell is still staring at me with his tired eyes. I raise an eyebrow at him, watching as his shoulders start to sag. “Was I talking out loud again?” I ask him, getting up. As I do the damn box decides to stop moving, and I fall back into the bed. He lets out a little chuckle. It is only pity that keeps him from laughing at me outright.

“No,” he says quietly. Growling, I go over and it next to him, leaning into his personal space. In a strange show of self-discipline, he ignores me and asks his official question.

“How could you sense Ultimacia? When she switched to Rinoa, how did you know?” His eyes are ice-blue, not betraying any feeling but they look so jealous and angry right now. Maybe I have forgotten what feelings were like.

“Seed Jacket,” I tell him, my hand running up and down the zipper and landing on his neck. Removing my hand, with his- he is angry, he isn’t hiding this strength and I think he bruised me- he unzips it, slowly, watching as my eyes follow his fingers. It’s a test of will for me, he knows. He knows what I’m thinking, and I can’t believe he doesn’t even blush. As he throws it at me, covering my head with his jacket I inhale his scent knowing that it smells of him and I really, really, don’t want to wait. But I force myself to.

“She talked about the dreaming,” I tell him, pulling the jacket off me and moving to sit on the bed. It’s a better place than the floor, anyway. “And she said her name.”

“The dreaming?” The words are sprinkled with genuine curiosity. “You’ve mentioned it before.”

I smirk again. Funny, I never realize how much I smirk unless I’m doing it. And I mainly do it because it pisses Zell off, and when he’s pissed of he’s more likely to loose control and when he looses control I have control and I really like control and I really like gripping his hips and forcing him towards me knowing that he’s given in and I am smirking and oh god I have forgotten my thoughts again. I shake my head.

“Do you want to hear more about it?” I ask him, and he nods as he watches me with pity. I must have paused.

“You’re getting worse,” he tells me, as he- of his own accord- comes and sits on my lap. I am not used to this. At all. His head rests on my shoulder for a moment, and I think I know what is happening. I nuzzle his neck and he lets out a giggle, smacking my side because I well know he hates that ticklish spot.

“I hate your pity,” I snarl at him and I am not even angry anymore. Just worn-down. I blame the tiny box. Maybe if I had a bigger box, and couldn’t piss while I showered I wouldn’t be so crazy. Maybe if Zell didn’t have such appetizing skin and I saw other people I wouldn’t let my thoughts fly around.

“It’s not pity,” he tells me softly, in his pleading voice and I am not sure why he is pleading for a moment, and then I remember what it is. I remember that he is also in a box, though his has a metaphorical door. “I’m…”

“Don’t,” I tell him, running my hands down his hand. “It’s too dangerous for you.”

He leans up and kisses me then, a desperate kiss and I respond, but this kiss I cannot control and it worries me.

He is also in a cage, one I have been in and one I don’t even have to think about any more. I tug on the hem of his shirt, and he breaks the kiss, his lips wet-

-I am hard-

moist-

-I am still hard

and covered in my saliva.

-I am going to fix this now.

“She found everything I wanted, everything I craved, all my dreams,” I tell him, starting to peel off his shirt, if by “peel” I mean “rip it off his skin and toss it next to his jacket”. I can feel him shift on my lap. I can see his little smirk, knowing that I want this and knowing that he’s driving me insane. “And she made them real. When I slept, they were all real, and I served her.”

I can see him trying to make a mental note. I can see him try to tear himself from business.

“Zell,” I whisper in his ear. “Zell, I’ve never seen you this anxious.” I want to say “Zell, you’re acting like me,” but I don’t and he looks away, his face torn. Emotionally. I kiss the side of his face, deciding to distract him.

“It was toxic,” I say, the words bouncing off the walls of the tiny box. In this space it is like I am speaking in my own ear. “I don’t even know how to begin to describe it. She simply knew everything and I knew that she was right, the creator of these dreams.” I pause, face in Zell’s neck. He swallows, which is normally a sign he’s starting to lose control of himself but my first red flag went up with fireworks and a bomb by him sitting on my lap, so I don’t know.

I thought I was beginning to know everything about him. In fact, I think I still know what is going on, and I will distract him for now. What he is alluding to, what his body is revealing to me, that can’t happen.

“Zell,” I whisper against his skin, and he shivers. “Ask me another question.” He tenses before asking again.

“Were there any other signs that it was her?” he asks, trying to remember from some memorized list, I’m sure. I can be very distracting when I want to be. That would require another smirk, but I am only pleased with him at the moment, pleased he is here and in my arms.

I smile as I kiss his chest. His hands stay at his sides, obediently. He’s doing this because it’s his job. Even when his body is shaking. Even when his breath is coming in little pants now, and his face is flushing. He’s doing this, not someone else, because he’s the only interrogator who has ever gotten anything out of me.

Our game is the reason.

I lick at his left nipple, and he has to bite his lip. Such a child, I think, that he’s so sensitive. He’s covered in scars and sculpted like a god and he’s sensitive still. I pull away pleased at the shine my spit has given. “A buzz in my head. Not much else. There was an echo to her words that I would hear in the dream, but… once she spoke of the dream, it wouldn’t have mattered.”

I don’t like being reminded of it, but there’s really no choice. I go back to his nipples, and he has to put his right
hand on my head to try and force me away, away so he can think clearly. Part of him wants me to continue, I know, the part of him that is arching closer to my mouth. I try to reach out with my tongue in perhaps the most un-sexy way, but it doesn’t really matter. There is no audience, no one to look at me in this box. Zell won’t be telling anyone.

After all, there’s no one in Garden who will accept him coming out of the closet. Better to stay inside in that case.

“Zell,” I say lowly, trying to make him quiver with my voice. It never works, but it’s always worth a try. He looks down at- looks at me, his face amused at mine with my tongue out of my mouth and my face trying to be seductive and he laughs for a moment, agreeing to be amused by my silliness and he lets go of my head. I pull back, smiling as he is.

“What were your dreams? What idea did she take advantage of?”

No longer smiling, I unzip his pants. Zell’s hand touches the side of my face. “That serious of a question, huh?” he asks, and I just look up at him.

“My romantic dream,” I tell him, “is always taken seriously. You’re giving me pain making me think about it, you know.”

Zell just closes his eyes as I take the pants down at the hem, slowly taking my time admiring his hips. I’ve bruised them before. I’ve gripped them before. And if I kiss on the outside, right where the elastic of his briefs is, and pull up, he’ll have a blush on his face.

He never makes any moves towards me. He never tries to help what I’m doing, probably because it was only recently that it occurred what he was really doing. Trading sex for something. Selling his body.

Not until today, anyway, but it seems we have fallen into the same pattern; his business-like attitude, my lust, and the movement toward my lap is forgotten for the moment. We’ve fucked like this so many times- 28 visits, at least- that we have routine and he knows that and it doesn’t settle well with him, that he is fucking me for information. Part of him hates himself for it. And part of him cries out for it- perhaps the part of him I saw earlier- who else can he turn to for what he longs for? No one at Garden.

“You’ll call my name one day,” I tell him softly, taking off my own shirt and throwing it in the mess of Zell’s own. His ungloved hand (no weapons allowed inside, even weapons that don’t look like weapons) touches my face for a moment. I flinch, knowing what he is thinking. “Don’t struggle with those emotions,” I tell him. “Just push them aside.”

Hyne, sometimes he really is still a child. He nods, angry but acceptant, just like when he was under my command in the SeeD test. I find the bottle of lube he’s smuggled in his pants and I take it out.

“I had many dreams, you know,” I tell him. “Being a father, being famous.” I move him back so I can stand, removing my own garb before finishing Zell’s. Zell follows my lead and sits on the bed, knowing what I’m going to do.

At least, his cock does.

“I wanted to fit in,” I told him, starting to caress his balls with my right hand, kneeling in between his leg. It drives him mad. His little mind doesn’t know how to deal with me being like I am, and frustrates itself over which one of us really has control.

I breathe on his cock, stroking the shaft with my other hand’s fingers, gently appreciating how it looks- like I do every single time. This sight is the one that gets me up in the mornings.

“I wanted to be a hero,” I say, before sucking on his cock.

He grips at the edge of the seat, his knees tensing. I’m not really all that in to blowjobs, myself- I prefer how the position works rather than what they feel like, but once again, the Chicken is sensitive. Usually this is the part where he gives in and as I suck on his cock a little I can feel his tension die down. He always gives in after this, and he doesn’t have to admit to anything. After all, when you have a god sucking on your cock-

I am not a god no I am not I am a fool and a-

I have stopped, and Zell cannot betray the worry he has in his eyes. He can never stop his emotions.

Not around me.

I continue, trying not to think on those thoughts.

He starts to moan, still fighting to hold back words. His hands make it to my hair, trying to keep me steady. But I’m ahead of him, sometimes with his organ in his mouth and sometimes with my tongue against it, sometimes I’m sucking his balls, even. He just moans, trying to repress everything. I let him fall from my mouth.

“Stop being so formal, Zell,” I tell him. “Who else will give you this? Who else will give me this?”

Zell looks away, ashamed. This isn’t any way for a SeeD to be behaving. His hands don’t leave my head, though, so I smirk as I stand up, forcing him to the bed panel. “In the dreams, I was happy,” I told him. “How could a woman like that be evil?”

He lays there, conflicted as he ever has been, and I kiss him on the neck. I suppose I should feel like he’s unwilling, as he hasn’t really been much help at all. The problem is I can see in his eyes that he’s fighting what he wants with what he wants to be. I’m sure Squall didn’t want Zell to do this. I’m sure Squall doesn’t even want to know how Zell’s getting his information, so long as it is quality stuff.

“She tried to kill everyone. She wanted to destroy everything. Sound’s pretty evil to me.” He glares up at me. “Question,” he states.

I just chuckle. “Not enough information, huh?” I ask him, pulling back. He’s naked; I sit and wait for his question. He’s trying to gain composure. I touch his stomach gently.

“Let me ask you a question,” I tell him, and his body freezes. I don’t often ask questions. I lean forward and kiss the tip of his chin. He’s so afraid of what I’m going to say.

It’s really unlike him. “Has Squall started registering sorceresses yet?” I ask him, and his face betrays him. He sits up, staring at me.

“How’d ya know that!?” he exclaims, his hands flinging out wildly. “Not even Rinoa knows that!” he stares at me with shock and I smirk. I’m beginning to draw out the real Zell.

“Well… my sorceress was from the future,” I tell him, noting he has deflated a little as his brain is sucking back blood to keep working, and I reach into his crotch again, with my rough hands pretending to be feathers to tease that boy into not thinking. “The other side to dreaming, Chicken, was to see glimpses of it. “I’m surprised Rinoa wasn’t the first.”

“She’s not a sorceress,” Zell tells me, his hand reaching for the lubricant though he tries to act like I am not giving him a handjob and using my own saliva as lube for it. It’s little things like that which clue me in on whether he wants this or not. “She lost her power to Adel. Adel shipped it back off to Ultimacia. She’s not a sorceress anymore.”

I pause, staring at him. “Did she go to Odine?” He places the lube in my hand.

“Fuck me,” he tells me, ignoring the question completely.

“Part of the benefits for working for a sorceress from the future,” I tell him, ducking as one of his legs goes over my head and to my other side, “is that I got to see the future.” He’s propping himself up on his elbows, watching me. He’s anxious- both for my statement and for my fingers. I start lubing them up. “I saw pretty interesting things, Chicken. Sorceresses start being registered. Then they’ll start coming to garden for special classes. Strangely, the sorceresses will all seem to vanish after being at garden, but a new type of SeeD will emerge. When they die, they transfer powers to each other- making their numbers smaller and smaller. All the while, SeeD is constantly on the lookout for Ultimacia. By the time she arrives, she’s the only sorceress left- and everyone’s after her head.”

I place a finger inside him. He’s strangely relaxed, though he’s hanging on to my every word. “Tell me, does that seem like Squall?” I work on stretching him, and his torso squirms. At this point, his face is bright red and his eyes are half-closed.

“Dunno,” he breathes out. “He’s not been the same since he got back… like his mind broke or somethin’.’ His back arches suddenly as I hit the spots inside him. We’ve done this enough times that I could probably make him come right now. “Fuckin’ hell,” he tells me, suddenly wrapping his legs around my back and forcing my body closer. “Just enter me already, damnnit!”

I smirk, knowing this was coming. “You need some patience,” I tell him, taking my fingers out slowly, teasing him. Growling, he squirms and pulls me towards him again.

“Now,” he insists. “Or I won’t come again.”

He thinks that has leverage over me. It’s almost cute. Like I depend on him for my sanity. He forgets, I’ve seen the future. He forgets that he’ll have no authority to visit me. My information is running out.

Still, I humor him. “That desperate, are you?” I ask him, rubbing the lube on my member. I pause, touching the outside of his entrance, looking at his flushed face, scowling at mine.

You’d think he’d be so much more…manly. Not nearly so adorable. He makes me want to eat him. Even after I have.

Zell can’t take the waiting and in a quick and fluid motion he has me underneath him, glaring at me and impales himself on my cock. Remember what I just said about manly? I take it back. Very manly.

The best kind of manly.

It’s the surprises like this that keep me entertained. “Damn,” he utters, unaware that he was going a bit too roughly. He takes a second, and I don’t mind. Each time I’m inside him, I’m always taken aback. It’s like the Dreams again, where the unreal becomes real. I’m really inside Dincht.

This is what the Dreams are like, the tiny slice of emotion that keeps me going.

This is usually the part where he starts to fall. All his walls of professionalism that he’s tried so hard to build ever since the war start to crumble. His emotions start playing on his face, more so than they have before, so that any child can read him clearly. His stature won’t shatter like glass, but it’s more like acid is starting to eat at him.

Hmm… the acid of my cock. Perhaps that’s not the best image for right now. Blue eyes rest on mine, and he squeezes his muscles around me, forcing me into a groan. On purpose. He squeezed his ass on purpose! Hynedamn, the Chicken always drives me crazy.

“You’re on top,” I tell him, lifting my hips a bit. He bites back a groan as he complies, starting to impale himself on me. Normally, I would think this to be so exhausting- but that’s the fun part of Zell as your partner. A being of pure muscle will hardly ever give out.

He’s found his little spot, I can see, as my hands clamp down on his hips, trying to help him adjust so I can go deeper. His hands press on my chest as he lifts himself up. His knees tighten around me.

Like always, he entraps me.

“Zell,” I whisper, sitting up. He’s confused at the sudden change in positions, but that can’t be helped. “Zell,” I whisper again, kissing him. He nearly devours me, but since I’m doing the same to him it really can’t be helped. He slides back down, my hands helping him to come back on my cock, and inside he is so tight and so warm.

“Im still not gunna cry out your name, fuckhead,” he tells me as we part, angry.

“Since when have I cared?” I reply. “I’m probably some substitute for some cute Garden boy you want to confess your feelings to,” I tell him, and his face burns bright red. Ah, I’ve hit it. This will be interesting.

If I can get him to call out that name when he comes…

I pull out, flipping him over and underneath me. His head manages somehow to hit the pillow, and he growls as I enter him again. “Tell me Zell, since you’re so high ranking in SeeD level, he must be underneath you, right?” I ask, leaning over his ear as I push inside him. I’m still hitting his spot. He’s trying his best to hide it now, but his breath hiccups each time. “In your fantasies, are you underneath him?”

His muscles clamp onto me at once, and he’s taken me by surprise. With no help from me, he’s coming, and that triggers my own climax.

Always full of surprises, the Chicken.

“Damnit, Seifer,” Zell states, as if I’d just pushed him into the dirt than give him release. Too bad he didn’t say anything as he came, just a silent sound. He never says anything. My time is running short. I only have so many more chances to fix that.

We don’t move, me on top of him, him underneath me and perhaps uncomfortable but uncrushed. His flush still
remains, and it will usually remain until after he leaves. His breathing pushes me up and down. My smirking into his neck probably doesn’t help his eyes shut tight, trying to regain composure.

“Zell,” I whisper as he shivers. “What else did you want to know about dreaming?

It takes him a few seconds, but he scoots away a bit, enough to turn his head at mine, even though there’s not enough space to do so. His nose is actually a bit on top of mine, and his eyes can only focus on my right eye.

“Your eyes are so blue,” I tell him, part of me wanting to distract him- his face flickers, but he’s a SeeD again.

“I need a specific example of a dream,” he says after a while.

“You’re taking your time,” I tell him, getting up and reaching for one of two towels I have. I start to clean him up, but he grabs my hand harshly. I relinquish the towel and speak as he cleans himself up.

“There was one that kept repeating itself. It was full of dark feathers, like a raven. When they disappeared, there she was, calling out to me, telling me to do things. When I accepted the task, the feathers would appear, and as I performed it, I’d be rewarded. Then more feathers, and then some sort of reward.”

Zell throws the towel at me. “Specifics,” he states, walking over to where his clothes are. I catch his arm.

“It was pretty steamy,” I tell him softly, and he rolls his eyes.

“Fine.” He states, pulling up his pants. I smirk, and he looks at me again. “What?” he asks.

I keep smirking. “I wonder what your little crush would say if he saw you like this.”

“Like what!” he states, suddenly loosing it. “Like a whore? Like some pathetic excuse for a SeeD who can’t-“

I press a finger against his lips. “Shirtless, Chicken. Just you shirtless.” His expression changes to that of fatigue. I remove my finger. “I’m almost out of information,” I tell him. “I think we’ll only have one meeting left after this.”

His expression hardens again, and he throws on his shirt and presses a button. The box moves.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Zell tells me. “We were on a mission. He started confessing his feelings for me in the middle of the night. I felt it was inappropriate to do such a thing on a mission, so I told Squall and…”

“He was gone.” I nodd. “If it makes you feel better, Chicken, that’s not just Squall’s policy. That’s the one that’s been around for ages.”

He blinks, looking up at me. “I never knew about-“

“You weren’t gay,” I tell him. “We never caught you doing anything gay.”

The door opens, and he walks out. I’m not even sure if I can remember what his face looked like, because as soon as the door closes my hands are around the memestone and I’m engraving my memories of today.

The memstone, this little gift from SeeD to record my memories.

Bet they’ll take it.

When I’m done, I shut my eyes, and try not to let the dreams overtake me.
………

“You asshole! I beat you then, you know! I can beat you again!” his angry fists fly at my face.

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to give in,” I tell him. “You can beat me, but you know what? Dying is better than staying here.”

“Should have thought about that before you joined sides with a sorceress,” Zell tells me, punching me in the face. I laugh. “And if I had won, we’d have the same scene, I’m sure.” I watch him mull it over for a moment before speaking again. “Or maybe I’d just keep your for the bedroom. You’ve got enough energy-“

Whack. He almost hits my head, but his fist goes to my shoulder instead. Damn. I was rather hoping I could get him to punch me hard enough that my brain would swell up, and then I could die. But no. Chicken has to get everything wrong.

“You bastard!” he calls out to me, and I say nothing to him. I can’t even see what he’s doing, so when kicks me in the stomach it hurts like a bitch and I double over. “Yeah, sure, Chickie. Maybe you’re not aware of it,” I manage to utter, “but I’m not ever going to leave here. So fuck you all, I’ll just spend the rest of my days in silence and going crazy.”

He kicks me again. “Tell me! What’d she leave behind! What plans did she have?”

“What’s in it for me?” I yelled at him. I expected him to kick me again, but he just pauses, staring at me for a moment before he blushes.

I stare back at him, wondering what the fuck he’s blushing for. “You get an idea or something?” I ask him, growling at him. “Damn little Chicken, now you’re acting shy? Well, guess what-“

“What do you want?” Zell asks, finally, as if he’s been fighting with himself the entire time. “What is it you want?”

“You suggesting a trade, Chicken?” I ask him.

Zell kneels down, staring at my bruised face. “Yes. Beating the shit out of you didn’t work for Squall, and it’s probably not going to work now, right?”

There’s something else behind his words. The way his hand is on my knee. He wants something, too, not just information. “I mean, there are things you can’t get, right?”

I don’t even think about the fact that his hand squeezes my knee. I’m just shocked by this side of Chicken. I’m shocked at his proposal. He can’t be proposing. He’s not clever enough-

“Like chocolates, or bananas or something,” he continues.

I want to smack my head against the wall. “Or something,” I tell him, looking at his eyes. He doesn’t get the
message. His face suddenly looks worried. “Let me ask you something, Zell. How much sex do you think I get here?”

He falls back on his butt. “No way, Seifer,” he tells me. “You were just joking earlier.”

“Really. Do you even know how long it’s been since I touched someone?” I ask him. “2 years and 24 days at the time I was put in this damn prison.” I spit blood on the floor. “Take a day to think it over, why don’t you.” I don’t really know if that’s how many days, I only know that’s how many visits. I don’t think he’ll check my math.

Zell glares at me. “Why me?” he asks angrily. “One of your gay jokes? You want to see me underneath you? Belittling me like you always do?”

“Or maybe I didn’t catch Squall back at Garden whispering my name as he touched himself almost every night in the showers,” I reply evenly, and his angry face turns ashen as he presses the button to leave. The box starts moving. I laugh. “Even if you don’t ask me questions, Chicken, I’ll be able to give you something Garden won’t.” I can’t move, though I want to. He’s ensured that I can’t move.

The door opens and he’s out of there. No one bothers to check on me and the door shuts, sealing me in my box.

He’ll be back.

………..

My eyes open. I can smell warmth, which means food has come. As I turn my head, I see a tray full of microwaved dinner. I suppose it’s meant to keep me alive. For now.

I know this prison. I was here once. Eventually, the meals will stop coming.

Eventually, everything will stop coming and I will be left alone, nothing more than a body in a giant coffin.

I think once the food stops coming, I might bite my own tongue off. But that’s still a while from now, maybe. Hell, I think I won’t even fucking realize when food has stopped coming. I’ve been in charge of this prison before. I know how quickly people go insane in solitary confinement.

I distract myself with fantasies. In this one, Zell’s taken the initiative much like last time, but unlike last time, he’s inside me. It’s something that won’t happen; I don’t trust Dincht enough, but you know, I might next time. I’ll have nothing left to loose, then, will I?

I’ve been in charge of this prison before. Nothing good happens. Silently, I distract myself from the fact and focus on Zell. I can see him clearly in my mind’s eye; it helps he’s been the only human I’ve seen for several months. Maybe weeks. Maybe years.

It really is too much effort not to push him onto the floor first thing. Some part of me can’t believe I’ve hung out this long, that I managed to get this lucky.

I look down, and remember I’ve been trying to masturbate. Sadly, my thoughts get so jumbled so quickly. So quickly.

I can picture Zell the next time he comes, in his tiny little SeeD uniform that is both stretchy and far too small- his shirt hugs his body, his pants nearly hang off is hips. He begins to say something, but the box sends him flying forward.

I would keep him from hitting the wall, but it’s Zell, and that’s much too funny to miss.

He’d yell as his head hit the edge of the box, the door closing and the box swinging like it always does. I’m sure he’d glare at me before yelling about how evil I am or something for letting that happen.

He’d come sit next to me then, with his little notebook of questions Squall has given him to ask. I’d nibble at his neck while he answers them, not bothering to stop me because a) he’s horny himself and b) it keeps him available to ask more questions.

Soon though, he’ll start to loose control. His fingers will start to tremble. His face will start to flush.

And, of course, his pants will start to tighten. Usually once that happens, he stops asking questions. Sometimes he’ll do nothing and let me work on him, or maybe he’ll take the lead. What I imagine, though, is this time he’s trying to push me off him, and there’s nothing I like better than a challenge.

He takes my face and moves it away, forcefully, but my hands are on his pants. Shrieking, he moves his hands to mine, as if trying to stop me. His mouth is shouting a bunch of swear words, too, as if that will make any difference. It’s almost like he doesn’t want this.

Too bad whenever I move my face in to help my hands, he lets go. The first time I tried that Zell’d lost a button. He almost flipped, too, but before he could swear at me for that I had his cock, and his eyes had squeezed shut.

Much like they are now, in my fantasy. “Stop it,” he says. “Seifer.”

“I’m sure you have fifty more questions,” I agree, unzipping his pants and pulling them and anything underneath them off in one fell swoop. He gives an angry cry as I move his legs around me, leaning in and grinning.

“Oh, did you not want this?” I ask. I’m waiting for the answer, and he hisses.

I’ve always made him agree to this.

“I hate you,” he utters. “Just do it.”

“Say please,” I tell him. “You’ve hurt my feelings.”

His face contorts for a moment into anger, but after a moment to breathe (a moment in which I am not watching his chest move up and down), after a moment to regain his composure, he speaks again.

“Please.” He utters, as if the words are acid.

Smirking, my own cock in hand, I realize my fantasy has taken more of a life of what he’s like. I used to picture
him begging. His face flushed, his arms needy, and me inside them, him, and him crying out as I pounded into him.

It seems my old fantasies are still effective, I realize, as I come. My seed spills onto my hand, and I’m sleepy again.

I think I’ll go take what little of a shower I can, I decide, and move a few steps from my bed. When I’m done in the shower, I go back to the bed and fall asleep.

………

I am awakened by falling out of bed, one of the unfortunate occurrences of living in a box. It doesn’t take me long to recover, though, as there’s only one reason the box will move.

Already, I’m in heat. Already, I’m seeing him coming through that door. Today is the last day. There isn’t going to be anything else.

The door opens, and he walks in. His eyes are avoiding mine, as if he’s holding back some sad emotion. It’s probably far too powerful for him to ignore. Not very SeeD like at all.

Hell, this interrogation hasn’t been very SeeD-like at all. The door shuts and I am shaking, wanting to be on him. “How’s Garden?” I ask.

He falls to the floor. “I…I looked into the history of the expelled students,” he uttered.

“Hmm. I suppose you’re talking about Ivan,” I agree. “Wasn’t actually gay, but there was nothing we could do.”
Couldn’t even arrest the damn bastards, but I don’t tell him that they all left garden…after I found their “magazines”. It doesn't take much.

“And… why am I not on there, Seifer?”

I smirk at him, throwing him my memstone. “You’ll have to take it anyway, right? This is the last time you’re here.”

He says nothing, catching it and looking away. “What don’t you know?” he asks me. Hmm. I suppose I must seem god-like.

“Zell,” I begin, “I’ve been at that damnable iron fortress since I was eight. I made friends with administration. I
know how policies work. There were some kids that didn’t deserve to get expelled,” I utter. “You were one of them.
Trying hard, an idiot, yes, but innocent. I had been requested to report on you, and nothing turned up.”

“I know,” he tells me. “I read that.”

I can’t resist anymore. He’s about to break, to cry. Garden let him down. His pride, his joy and his home has let him down, never wanted him and I don’t want to see his reaction. Not on our last day.

“Shh,” I tell him, unzipping his jacket. “I won’t tell a soul, Dincht.” I kiss his neck. Still, no response. “I do hope, though, you don’t give that stone to your commander.”

“Why?” Zell asks, suddenly activating it and his face pales as his pants grow tight. He pulls away from it, glaring at me. “Are you serious, Seifer!?” Hands are waving wildly.

“No, no, Dincht. None of that here. You’re on a mission, and you’ve got your questions to ask.”

He can’t stop, though, shaking and clinging to the stone. Aroused, too. That’s got to be a bitch of emotions. I slip a hand into his pants to help him decide.

“Ask.”

His eyes fall on mine for a moment, before he begins to recite. “Did you have any free will with the sorceress?” he asks.

Oops, his pants came off. That’s so obnoxious when it happens. “It was a gradual loss,” I tell him. “Stopped caring about myself. Started following her blindly. But I was aware I was following.” I look at his blue eyes, and for once, he blushes. “I can’t really say. It was all like a bad dream.”

Strange how he’s reaching for me, pressing our lips together. Strange how he’s taking control so soon.

Strange how I like this, knowing it will end and he will go. I’ve been in charge of this prison. I know what will happen.

Did I say that already? I can’t remember.

He pulls away, and I place a hand up to his lips. “Let’s celebrate,” I tell him. “You take me.”

His eyes widen. He is not expecting this. “But-but-but,” he sputters, “It’s always been…you’re not…”

“I’m not gay?” I ask him, raising an eyebrow. “I may take most the time, Dincht, but strange though it may seem, I
do enjoy someone inside me. Like most gay men, I switch.”

Zell blushes even more deeply. “I…I’ll try my best,” he states, as if I am some sort of sporting event.

“You’d better. If it sucks you’d better come back and practice.”

The words are inappropriate but I hand Zell the lube, and already he’s blushing and I think I’ve found his emotions this time. “Do you not want to?” I ask him, gently pulling off his jacket and lifting up his shirt, my hands running on the skin underneath it.

“No, I want to,” he utters. “I just-“ I kiss him, and he responds to that. I distract him for a moment, and he can forget what he’s trying to absorb. He wraps his arms around me, for once, and my heart leaps.

I am wanted.

I don’t let him see this, as his mouth moves from mine to my neck. Yes, I want to breathe, mark me, take me, anything. I just don’t want to forget when you leave, when I am trapped in this box.

He starts sucking on my neck and I move to where I can reach, my hands on his pants now, unzipping them. “Zell,” I whisper into his ear and he shivers, and at once I can tell he’s restraining himself from an onslaught of emotions. His hands are reaching for my own shirt, trying to tear it off. Not nice, but it’s not like I need it.

I kiss him as the fabric rips, Zell not even pausing to think about what he’s done. His cock is exposed and wanting, and he tears off my pants just as quickly.

This will be hard to explain to the guards, but oh well. I’ve moved to wherever I can reach- his back, his shoulder, his neck. He takes the lube and raises my legs up over his shoulders before he stares at me.

I stare straight back, smirk on my face. “Don’t chicken out now, Wuss,” I tell him.

He blushes and he starts applying it on his fingers, surprising a small shudder when I reach my hands over his, helping apply the lube. One wouldn’t think his fingers would be so sensitive, but his cock twitches and his eyes half close. I grin as I move, bending as much as I can to pinch Zell’s left nipple. I’m not as flexible as he is, and my muscles start to whine, but Zell suddenly enters into me, and my fingers let go.

“Ah,” I utter. It’s been a while since I’ve felt something invading me. Zell suddenly slows as he remembers how this works, slowly stretching me and I know he’s watching my chest move up and down.

He leans over to my bellybutton and licks it, evil little fuck. I jerk and he smirks, I know he is smirking. He doesn’t realize what’s going on, but that’s all right. It’s better to be kept in the dark sometimes.

“Another finger,” I demand. He complies, looking up at me. I look at him back, and he blushes even deeper, his face slightly pained. I cup his face. “Don’t,” I tell him harshly. “Don’t you dare, chicken. You are fucking me, you understand?”

Because I think if he starts I’ll start. I’m not opening myself up to him, I remind myself, I’m making sure no one else goes to this damned place. Zell will be given a body check and I’m not going t…

Oh, Hyne, he’s removed his fingers. “Seifer…” He utters.

“Fucking do it!” I yell at him, and he starts lubing himself up, and I can’t resist helping him. His breath catches as I touch him, but soon, he’s poised and soon, he’s inside me. I am stretched and my eyes are closed, his mouth is on my neck and my hands are in his hair, not wanting, not daring to touch his back for I will make it bleed.

“Ah,” he lets out, a hiss across my sweat-lined skin. It tickles and I shift my hips, trying to make him go deeper.

Good,” I tell him, trying to keep the command out of my voice but failing to do so. He kisses my neck before he
raises himself up, moving his hips again.

My mind starts ignoring what’s happening around me- I’m only aware of him, him, inside me and making me inhale giant breaths, making my veins fill with fire, and to have him spill inside me as I spill outside, hearing his words on my chest.

“Seifer,” he utters, pulling out and he moved upwards on me to kiss me. I move my head down slightly and we meet, Zell’s hands suddenly pressing hard on my sides like they were a few minutes before.

As we pull away, I realize he’s been crying. Part of it pisses me off, and another part of me wants to join him. I haven’t once yet cried for being forced into this box, for being tried, for being abandoned and for anything. Instead, I sit him up and turn him around, getting a cloth.

“H-have you forgotten?” he asks, trying to laugh as I force him on the ground like I do when I clean him up, letting his asshole stare up at me. “I’m not the one-“

“Drop the magic barrier. Claim it is an emergency.”

Zell actually manages to be so fucking flexible he can turn while his asshole stays in the same fucking location and I am so impressed and I should have used it earlier-

“Do it.”

He pushes the button on his emergency com-kit, confused, and I suddenly state my second to last spell.

The box is moving quickly. Very quicky, and my hands can’t be steady. Luckily, my words will be. “Stop,” I cast on him, and his body freezes. I reach under my mattress for my self-made knife, a little blade that will do the trick. I don’t really think about what it is I am doing, but suddenly he is screaming dispite his stop and his anus is bleeding and my knife is covered in blood. I cast my last spell.

“Curaja.”

It is her spell, but it suffices. What Zell doesn’t know, I understand as I clean the blood and throw on his pants and shirt quickly, is that his anus no longer shows any signs of being used.

At all.

Couldn’t have done it when if I had fucked him, I didn’t have the battle energy built up in him. I drop the stop
spell and he scrambles up, his face so angry- so angry like he used to be- and he is ready to throw a punch and the crane is whining and the box is creaking-

“Chicken,” I tell him. “You can’t possibly think that I loved you,” I tell him, changing the tone of my voice. It is a lie. Is it a lie? It doesn’t matter.

I had figured his fist would fly into my face. I had counted on the fact that I would be tasting blood in my mouth. I had planned that he would be swearing at me, that he would be picking up the memstone and he would be casting other magics at me as he left the box, letting the door slide shut and leaving me to deal with my pain the same way I dealt with everything else-

By blacking out.

……….
………
………
Author’s notes: Hello, everybody! I have no real statements to make, other than to clarify a few things for people wondering 1) yes, Seifer knew that Zell was going to be inspected after his memstone (what is memstone? A plot device) was turned in, and yes, it was going to be a physical inspection. 2) I tried to make the story a bit more disorganized as Seifer is feeling disorganized. I think this story would be best read in a box, but if you can’t do that I suppose you can imagine a box all around you to help with your insanities unless you are claustrophobic, please then picture yourself in a wide field of wheat where you can see everything. Also, this is why some sentences make no real sense and run on like no other.

There were some edits, italics, and words, but somehow they have gotten lost in the formatting. I don't even know.

I had done this story a year ago, but had sorely needed to edit it. It was hard to jump around with the characters and make them feel like they were still in-character when they would have shifted priorities so dramatically. And Seifer feels a lot less of an asshole, and that’s mainly because he is trapped in something close to solitary confinement. He’ll probably break down crying at any day- because that’s what you do in solitary confinement as your mind snaps like a twig, and Zell ain’t coming back.