Title: Absent Presence
Author: DB2020
Email: (see profile)
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Seifer x Squall
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII, nor do I financially profit from any of my fanfiction.
Warning: Some mild action, lime only, is present between Squall and Seifer. In case you have a strict policy about age, the kiss scene between Squall and Seifer is set when they are ten and eleven, respectively. But, it's more childhood curiosity, at least for Squall, so nothing is really very sexual about it.
Author's Note: This isn't going to be a long story. There are three parts, or so I've planned. This is Squall's side after the war, next will be Seifer's, and then they'll finally meet for the first time since the war ended. Any grammatical or spelling mistakes were simply been overlooked. Since I'm sure any errors are minimal, please just overlook them as well. I do not believe I've made any canon errors, though I do allude to the kids being ten/eleven and all still being at the orphanage. If that's incorrect, then consider it a change in the storyline.
Part 1
A First Kiss
Squall Leonhart stood at ease, uncaring of the stern gaze upon him. For anyone else, the action of brashly cleaning his blade might have come off as an arrogant disregard for authority. His slimming black leather pants had certainly seen better days as they were caked with odd elements of dirt and monster innards. For the sake of preservation, his bomber jacket was safely stored away in the luggage he'd brought.
Cid Kramer watched with patience as Squall swiped the steely silver gunblade clean of recent carnage. The young man seemed wholly oblivious to the dried blood and odd fiend fluids that splattered more than just the weapon.
"Squall, do you know why I've called you here?" the newly reinstated Headmaster questioned with folded hands propped on his cluttered desk.
"Yes," Squall answered shortly. Once satisfied that his blade was sufficiently clean, he holstered it at his side.
"I understand your need to fight," Cid assured. "But, you're out in the field a substantial amount of time. Garden needs you here, deploying the troops, not leading them into every fight."
"I'm not a desk jockey," Squall spoke evenly.
"And I'm not asking you to be one," the older man returned.
Tucking the used rag away, clean ends folded out, the younger man pointed out, "Monsters are breaching the borders. Innocent lives are at stake."
"The war is over," Cid asserted firmly. Sometimes he wondered if Squall knew Ultimecia was dead. The boy went about killing monsters like it was the only way to defeat the sorceress.
"I know that," Squall said with a tone of defensiveness. Crossing his arms, he stared coldly at the aging man with graying brown hair.
"Well, maybe you should act like it. You're the Commander and right now your job description is different than during war." While he was loath to know what sort of reaction Squall would have if he flat out stated that being Commander was like playing a role and more political than militant, he wondered if he should explain it all.
"I will not sit around while Esthar is under attack," Squall stated with heavy resolution.
Taking a deep breath, Cid tried a different tactic. "How much downtime have you taken since post compression last April?"
Taking a moment, Squall considered the trap he was walking into. He refused to make excuses or be handled like he was still a cadet. "That question is neither here nor there Headmaster. I fail to see the relevance."
"The relevance is my own interest. It's a simple question." Earnestly, Cid waited for an answer.
Jaw clenching, Squall directed his steely eyes to Cid's slate blue ones. "Sir, I may not have years of experience, but I believe I am capable of fulfilling my duties without step by step instructions."
Professionalism slipping, Cid broke down and asked the questions on his and everyone else's minds. "Why are you closing everyone and everything out? I'm giving sound advice, and you're rejecting it before it's offered."
"As I understand, advice is given and taken at will."
Cid sat back as he felt his head throb from continually running into the wall Squall had erected. "Not when you won't even listen Squall. I'm beginning to worry about you. Rinoa says you're not sleeping, that you're on edge all the time, and experiencing nightmares that you repeatedly refuse to talk about."
"…" Squall remained silent, adamantly refusing to speak about his personal affairs. If he wanted or needed help, he'd seek it out on his own. Besides that, it was obvious Rinoa's concerns had been expressed months ago since that had been the last time they'd slept together. Cid was blindly reaching and failing to notice that his constant absence would mean no one had time to monitor him and confirm that such issues as sleep deprivation were still true.
"I figured you'd settle down after a few months, but now with this sweeping of Esthar's outskirts, you do nothing but fight."
Shifting to the side, Squall stood more on his right leg. It was an old habit that expressed his impatience. "President Loire hired SeeD. I've merely taken an interest in this contract for the sake of hurrying the process."
"Eighteen hours in the field everyday is more than an interest," the Headmaster returned.
Keeping his cool, Squall seemed as stoic and composed as ever. There was only one person who could ever stir his emotions and really rile him up. Impassively he replied, "Since I plan on going back out tomorrow and every day after, perhaps you should consider accepting my resignation."
Disturbed by these words, Cid sat straight, barely managing to suppress the urge to shoot to his feet. "Squall, you can't be serious," he said with incredulity.
Squall gave a sardonic expression. When did he ever joke?
"The cadets look up to you. You're their leader, you can't quit," Cid impressed. He was horror stricken at the thought of Squall stepping down from being Commander.
"I'll always be SeeD, but perhaps I should be leading by example, not rank." Honestly, Squall didn't give a damn about being Commander, especially not when the war was over and he was expected to sit behind a desk all day.
"I think you need to take some time off to collect yourself, a sabbatical."
"No," Squall rejected simply.
Exasperated, Cid took his glasses off and gave a gruff sigh. "At times like these, I wish Seifer were here." As the Headmaster glanced up, he did not expect to see a stricken look of unguarded alarm on Squall's face. Thinking that the brunet's feelings could only have grown more malicious towards the rival turned wartime enemy, he quickly soothed, "Seifer wasn't a bad person Squall, just misguided. I simply meant that he was the only person who could get through to you, even if it was usually done in a bloody manner."
Expressionless mask back in place, Squall brusquely excused himself. "I'll have to cut this lecture short, I have a previous engagement."
Cid felt helpless as he watched the leather clad fighter turn and leave his office. He hadn't even been able to put a chink in that icy wall, let alone breach it. He couldn't imagine when the boy had become so stubborn and willful.
Prior to his departure from Garden, when he'd first made Squall Commander, the young man had been insecure and hesitant about almost every decision that affected other people. While Cid had always hoped Squall would grow and become more confident, he hadn't wanted the boy to become just like his rival. Seifer was arrogant and stubborn to a fault, and that was something a Commander didn't need to have.
Squall strode from the Headmaster's office in hurried steps. It seemed like the moment he finally put aside his memories of Seifer, someone always made an offhanded comment to remind him.
He needed to go back out to Esthar. The only time he ever felt true relief was in the midst of battle, when his blood pounded and adrenaline pumped. During a straining fight, he could forget all about his growing obsession.
It was early afternoon in Balamb, which meant it'd be late evening in Esthar. He'd been camping near the outskirts of the city for the past four days and his body felt as though he should be retiring for the night despite the warm rays of sunshine that filtered in all over the quad he stalked through.
Returning to his quarters, he decided to take a shower before heading out to the train's platform. It was little over an hour's ride to Fisherman's Horizon and convenient to then take the now operable train to Tarners Plate, which wasn't such a long trek to the city's border.
Grimy and mud caked clothes strewn haphazardly on the floor, he was under the shower's spray not five minutes after leaving Cid high and dry. The warm water was soothing to his overworked muscles.
He had been out fighting a lot, enough to lose weight from the physical strain and meager portions of food at night. If he were lucky, he'd be able to leave before anyone noticed he'd been there.
"Squall?" called a familiar voice from outside the bathroom door.
Grimacing at his luck, thinking he may have jinxed it, he replied, "I'll be out in a minute."
"Don't mind me, take your time," Rinoa returned. "You want me to unpack your stuff for you?"
Sighing, Squall felt guilt wash over him. "No, I'm not staying."
There was a long pause before the young sorceress answered. "Oh," she said, her voice not entirely void of disappointment, but just enough to inform Squall that she was trying to mask her feelings.
Silently, Squall berated himself for being such an asshole to her. Rinoa was nothing but sweet, and he couldn't find the decency in himself to treat her any better than the friends he ignored.
Pushing her luck, Rinoa leaned against the doorframe and asked, "Want me to make you some lunch before you go?"
Gritting his teeth, Squall forced himself to give his girlfriend that much. "Sure," he replied.
Washing up, Squall took an extra few moments to simply let the water ease his tight muscles. Perhaps he shouldn't have stopped off at the Training Center to pass the time waiting for Cid to finish up with a meeting.
With all his clothes in the duffel bag he'd tossed on the couch when he first arrived that morning, Squall unabashedly walked out with a towel about his waist to scrounge through his messily packed bag. Most of his clothes were garments designed for battle, all leather and tough denim.
"I bought you a few things the last time I came to visit," Rinoa informed as she strode toward him, eyes raking over his well-toned form. "I put them in the closet."
With a nod, Squall decided his appreciation would be best showed by not refusing to wear the clothes. It wasn't so much that his battle clothes were inappropriate, but most of it was well worn and ragged.
Squall almost smiled at the unworn items he found filling the closet. It wasn't until he reminded himself that Rinoa had probably been buying him stuff and visiting only to find him absent for months now. The closet must have slowly filled up, each visit the raven-haired woman made from Timber bringing nothing but disappointment.
Selecting at random a pair of boot cut jeans and black dress shirt, he closed the sliding doors and tossed the garments on his rarely used bed. His amusement returned when he found his dresser drawers contained an array of undergarments of socks.
Lips forming a small smile, he quickly dressed and left the bedroom. He found Rinoa in the small kitchen, spreading mustard on a turkey sandwich. He was truly endeared by her kind efforts.
Coming up behind the petit young woman, he wrapped his arms around her frame. "Thank you," he said with a gentle kiss to her temple.
For a brief moment, Rinoa nearly caved into the urge to turn about and sob her worries away into the Commander's chest. She was worried about their relationship, about his health, about her family, about Timber's struggling independent government, and so many other issues in her life.
"I missed you," she murmured, managing to not fall into hysteric tears.
"I'm sorry that I've been gone so often. Once Esthar is safe, things will change."
"Squall, please don't make promises like that," she said in return. Pulling away from his warm hold, a hold that she desperately wanted to wallow in for the rest of her life, she turned to gaze into his guarded eyes. His eyes were so beautiful, even with the icy chill they sent up her back.
"Like what?" Squall questioned lightly.
"I don't need things to change. I don't like that I hardly see you now, but I don't want you to change if it's not what you want."
Giving a frown, the brunet said, "I'm not sure what you mean."
"If you want to spend your time doing grunt work all day, then that's fine with me. Instead of coming here and visiting everyone, I'll start coming out to the middle of the desert to stay with you."
"That's sweet," Squall commented, not sure what else he should say.
"Well," Rinoa said with a more cheerful tone, "Your sandwich is almost done, I'll bring it out to you. You want a drink with it?"
"Water," the brunet answered before leaving the kitchen.
The patterned sound of the train's wheels on the track was lulling. Similar to Selphie, Squall quite enjoyed to view of passing scenery, however he was far from being quite so enthused about it or willing to stand up the entire time.
Sitting in a private compartment, the Commander stared out at the ocean. With the window open no more than an inch, the salty air whipped in a fresh breeze on his face. He was relaxed in a half strewn manner in the booth near the window.
His body was tired. It was becoming increasingly enticing to lie down on the soft bed at the other end of the compartment, but he chose to stare and reflect. At least when his mind drifted in a daydreaming manner, he had some control over his thoughts. During sleep, he dreamed quite often and never about anything he wanted to.
He mainly dreamed about Seifer. And, his dreams lead to continual thoughts during his wakeful hours of the day. Thinking about Seifer was also something he didn't want to be doing.
Seifer was gone from his life, somewhere in the world doing something Squall knew nothing about.
Sinking further into the cushions, Squall stared blankly as his mind wandered.
Since he first arrived at the orphanage, Seifer had never given him a moment of peace. Considering he couldn't remember a life prior to the seaside children's home, his entire life included having Seifer in it.
They weren't close like bosom buddies, but it was still something he'd grown so used to that nothing felt right anymore. The war had created a cold place in his heart without the constant annoyance of the arrogant blond nearby. Worse yet, he'd spent every day in turmoil over the possibility of having to fight Seifer to the death.
He never wanted to be enemies, but because of his feelings on the matter, he felt ashamed to be the Commander. What sort of leader wished the enemy a safe ending?
What if he'd taken the time to speak with Seifer after their mission in Dollet? The older boy had wanted to talk to him, needing to talk with someone so badly about some sort of romantic dream that he'd been approached as a last resort.
What if he could have stopped Seifer from becoming a knight? The war wouldn't have been avoided, but it certainly would have been ended sooner. If Seifer had been leader, things would have turned out much differently. If Seifer had remained with Garden, then they might have experienced a change in their rivalry. In a truce for a greater good, he probably would have wound up fighting along side his rival.
Shaking his head, Squall tried to push aside his thoughts. Perhaps this was Seifer's ultimate form of irritation, constantly hounding him with ghost memories.
As the sun made its descent, an orange orb that appeared oddly large just above the watery horizon, Squall felt his breathing slow. He might just fall asleep for a little while. He had about an hour to go, enough time for a nap.
As an absent hand reached up to grasp his Griever emblem, tugging the chain a bit. He felt empty and vacant of all the emotions he should be feeling.
He should feel love for Rinoa, warmth for his friends, relief that the war was over, respect for Cid, happiness for the life he now lead, and so many other emotions.
He felt none of that. Instead, he felt fake guilt and loneliness. He wanted to feel guilty, but he really didn't. He was putting Rinoa through quite a bit of turmoil, not really giving their relationship any effort, but in the end he couldn't scrounge up enough will power to even give it more than a couple minutes thought.
Reason and logic were slowly waning each time he tried to figure out why he felt so alone and cold. Everyone suddenly came back into his life after leaving, and he felt more abandoned than the day Sis had left.
Why?
A very small part of him had begun to attribute it the fact that the one person who he'd always counted on to remain in his life had also left. He'd doubted everyone except for one man, and in the end his trust was betrayed.
Squall gave a wry scoff.
His trust wasn't betrayed. Seifer never knew how he felt, never understood that he was grateful that their rivalry kept them together. All he needed was to know that Seifer was nearby, and that was enough. He didn't need to be friends with the older boy, rivals was good enough.
But Seifer had left, just like everyone else. In that moment when he stared at the crimson cross of Hyne on the blond's retreating back, he felt the likes of dark abandonment that he'd never known before.
Why had Seifer left? Why?
"Why didn't he ask me to come with him?" Squall questioned aloud to the empty compartment, his voice barely more than a whisper.
When Squall was ten years old, he was a frail looking boy with an overall frame that was indicative of someone at least a year younger. Despite never vocalizing his jealousy over how tall Irvine and Seifer were, Matron constantly assured that he was a late bloomer and would grow up big and strong.
At a time when his rivalry with Seifer was little more than the blond becoming upset with him on every occasion, he sat quietly as he stared out the window. A storm raged near the mainland. Safely within the orphanage, he remained in his room while the others watched a movie downstairs. It was movie night and everyone was always glued to the television. Matron allotted him the liberty of choice, his preference always being to take a couple hours of solitude.
Ready for bed, he lounged in a pair of shorts and t-shirt that was a couple sizes too big for him. Counting the seconds between light and sound was almost a game to him. A year ago he'd been frightened of storms, but after forcing himself to watch each one since then, he'd outgrown what Seifer had called being a baby.
At a particularly loud clap of thunder, he was taken by surprise and jerked in place. Frowning, he mumbled that he was being stupid. He'd seen the blinding flash that preceded it, so he should have been ready.
Once again startled, the young boy jumped in place at the knocking at his door. Scowling over his reaction, he stood up to answer it. He had a sneaker in place as a door jam since no one ever waited for him to say it was all right to enter.
As the old wooden door creaked open, grey-blue eyes were surprised to find Seifer standing in the dark hall outside. Standing a good twelve inches taller than himself, the blond wore baggy jeans and a yellow hoodie. It would seem he was the only one ready for bed, even though it was almost nine o'clock.
"Can I come in?" the older boy questioned, pushing his way past the little runt without waiting for an answer.
"You need to ask first," Squall protested, quickly maneuvering to stand in front of the blond.
"I did," Seifer lilted as he loomed over the small brunet.
Huffing indignantly, Squall corrected, "I meant wait for me to say that it's okay."
"You should say what you mean Squally-boy," the blond chastised mockingly. Roughly, he ruffled the boy's thick auburn hair, tousling long locks about. "You should get a haircut, you look like a girl."
"I do not!" Squall yelled in return.
"Quiet," Seifer hissed. "Matron'll hear ya and then we'll both get in trouble."
"Why d'you come?" the brunet asked as he angrily dodged the older boy's attempt at messing with his hair again.
"It's storming," Seifer pointed out as he walked further in and sat on Squall's bed. It was plain to any eye that the pale boy had been sitting there.
"I was sitting there," Squall protested as he closed the door, defeated into acceptance of the blond bully in his room.
"Now I'm here," Seifer jibed. "Here," he said as he pat his lap like he were calling a dog. "You can sit in my lap."
Nose wrinkling in distasted, Squall scowled at the annoying boy. "I wanna be alone," he stated.
"And I wanna be with you, so you lose," Seifer said with a note of finality.
Resigned to either calling Matron and consequently be dragged to watch the movie with everyone else or dealing with Seifer's presence, Squall trudged towards his bed. Crawling atop it, he moved closer until he was placed in the corner at the head of the bed. Seifer was in front of him, blocking his view of the window. However, he could still hear the storm and see the lightening as it illuminated his room.
For a long while they sat in silence. Nothing but the harsh rain that occasionally chinked against the windowpane and the claps of thunder broke the quiet.
"Have you ever kissed someone?" Seifer asked as he continued to stare out the window.
Stirring from his lost study of the stitching in his quilt, Squall looked up with an expression of shock. His usually pale cheeks were tinged red. "No," he declared defensively.
"Not even Sis?" Seifer pressed in accusation.
"No," Squall mumbled in dejection, suddenly reminded of just how real his sister's presence had been. The affirmation that she wasn't some figment of his imagination cut through him with the biting reality that she was gone.
Dropping the topic as quickly as he'd brought it up, Seifer turned back to the window.
Settling down, Squall crawled under his blankets and turned his back to the older boy. Now that he was thoroughly depressed and would probably remain so for the rest of the night, he sulked while listening to the storm.
"Hey," Seifer said with a shaking nudge to the small lump beneath the navy blue quilt. "Do you wanna try it?"
Not responding as quickly as most would have, Squall eventually questioned, "Try what?"
"Kissing," Seifer answered as if it were obvious.
"No, I don't know how," the younger boy stated flatly, never venturing to turn and regard the person he spoke to.
"Me neither, that's why you gotta practice," Seifer explained, his tone oddly free of its usual annoyed edge.
Sitting up, Squall blinked in thought. "I thought you're supposed to kiss girls," he muttered in confusion.
Cringing, Seifer pulled a face of disgust. "Yuck," he intoned to emphasize his dislike of the idea. "I don't wanna catch cooties."
"Don't be stupid," Squall said with a small laugh at the blond's antics.
Seifer gave a smile, shifting to face the brunet more. "Well it's true."
"Matron said cooties weren't real, that girls aren't any different from boys except for how they look."
"You mean boys have a penis," Seifer stated with a smirk of victory, like saying the word penis without blushing made him a winner in some odd respect.
Frowning, Squall didn't reply.
"You have to do it some day, everyone does," Seifer stated soundly. "We should practice."
"You should ask Selphie or Quisty, they're girls," Squall returned. Regardless of his words of refusal, his curiosity was definitely peeked at the idea.
"But you look like a girl and I don't wanna ask them."
"I don't look like a girl," Squall defended angrily.
"Yes, you do," Seifer refuted.
"No, I don't," Squall shot back.
"You do."
"I don't!" the brunet half shouted, forgetting himself as Seifer managed to anger him enough.
"Shhh!" Seifer hissed as he clamped a hand over Squall's mouth. "We'll get in trouble."
"Stop calling me a girl," Squall continued in his angry tirade, struggling free of the stronger boy's grip.
"I didn't call you one," Seifer taunted in his usual manner of being technical about everything. "I said you look like one."
Blushing before he even said it, Squall imitated the older boy and said, "I have a penis. I don't look like a girl."
Green-blue eyes stared for a long moment, hands clamped on the narrow shoulders of the smaller boy. Staring for a long moment, he eventually laughed at Squall.
Squall knew he must have looked nervous and uncomfortably embarrassed after saying those words, hence Seifer's amusement. Scowling at the blond, Squall struggled to tear free completely. Oblivious to the bright flash of light, he barely managed to stifle his cry of terror at the immediately following crack of thunder. It was the loudest yet.
"Aww, is little Squally still afraid of a little lightening?" Seifer jibed in a mock baby voice.
"No," Squall refuted angrily. How was he supposed to ignore Seifer and not get angry like Matron said he should? The blond always knew just what to say to hurt his feelings and make him upset.
"I won't tell anyone if you practice with me," Seifer proposed. "If you don't let me, then I'll go down there right now and say that you're crying and calling for your mommy."
"I hate you," Squall bit out, very much on the verge of tears in his overwhelming annoyance with the blond.
With a narrowed glare of anger, Seifer shoved the smaller boy away. "I hate you too," he stated before turning away and staring out the window again. It was a mystery to Squall why the blond didn't storm out.
After another ten minutes of silence, Seifer finally turned back around and said, "Stick your tongue out."
Sulking once more with his back turned, Squall rolled over to glare up at the older boy. "Why?"
"Because I wanna try the kiss," Seifer explained.
Squall rolled his eyes, for once feeling like he knew something the older boy didn't. "Kisses are like this," he said before puckering his lips slightly in demonstration.
Smiling arrogantly, Seifer took on his usual condescending air. He corrected, "Not the real ones. Me and Irvine saw these books at the store that had pictures and everything. You're supposed to use your tongue if you wanna make it good."
Frowning at once again being on the shallow end of the knowledge pool, Squall questioned, "What's supposed to happen when you do it?" His streak of childhood curiosity had always been more than normal. Most of the scarce words he spoke were in question of something, which often angered their schoolteacher, especially when he hardly ever volunteered to give any answers.
"It feels really good," Seifer said knowingly.
Anger momentarily forgotten, the brunet sat up and questioned, "It does?"
"Yeah," Seifer assured as if he were an expert. "It doesn't hurt or nothing, just makes you feel really good."
Seeming to process the blond's words as fact, Squall considered his options. With nothing to lose but his pride if he refused, it was starting to seem like a good idea. Besides, he was becoming extremely curious, and if it didn't hurt then there was nothing to be afraid of.
Sticking the tip of his tongue out, Squall gazed at Seifer expectantly.
"Not like that," Seifer huffed in exaggerated exasperation. "Like this," he stated. Sticking his tongue out all the way and keeping his mouth open, he demonstrated what he meant.
Mimicking Seifer, Squall opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out further. He was almost expecting the blond to tell him to say, 'Ahh.'
"Better," Seifer admonished. "You ready?"
Moving from his correct position, Squall quickly asked, "For what?"
"For the kiss stupid," Seifer answered.
"Oh," the younger mumbled. Resuming his open mouthed position, he waited for whatever came next. The fact that he previously assumed kissing was something like touching lips together gave him a feeling of assurance when Seifer leaned in.
Before Seifer could begin, he stopped and stated, "Don't bite me or nothing. I'm gonna put my tongue in your mouth, okay?"
"Why?" Squall asked in stiffening alarm.
"Cause that's how it's done, that's why," Seifer stated. "Come on, it doesn't hurt."
"How do you know?" Squall asked with uncertainty, not understanding why Seifer needed to put anything in his mouth for a kiss.
"Because I've seen it," Seifer said.
Staring sternly into the older boy's darkened eyes, the stark color only evident when lightening came, Squall warily said, "Promise it won't hurt?" It wasn't exactly a question.
"I promise."
Now apprehensive, trusting Seifer at the same time he doubted the boy, he opened his mouth again, a little wider than before. Despite watching Seifer lean in close and knowing what was going to happen, it was just like the thunder. Almost jumping out of his skin, he stayed in place only because Seifer's hands gripped his shoulders.
Unsure what to do, Squall remained frozen in place with Seifer's tongue in his mouth. The older boy seemed to be licking him, the wet appendage moving about messily. After a rather awkward couple of minutes, Squall realized he kept trying to hold his breath. Pulling away, he panted for air.
"You're supposed to do the same to me," Seifer chastised, licking his slick lips. "Just copy what I do, okay?"
Brows drawn together, Squall nodded numbly. It was kind of gross to have someone's tongue in his mouth all wet and stuff, but he wouldn't be the first to admit it. He was better prepared for it when Seifer leaned in again. He almost forgot what he was supposed to be doing. It didn't seem possible for Seifer's tongue to be in his mouth when his tongue was in Seifer's. Still, he tried.
After an odd moment, Squall began to find the weird feeling of their tongues touching sort of enjoyable. At least, he was intrigued by it, wondering what he was supposed to do to make it feel really good.
As their tongues began to find a clumsy rhythm of twining together, their lips were subsequently brought together as well. With wet smacking sounds, their lips meshed instinctively. They were both giving off muffled pants, neither exactly wanting to break apart but not having a very sound way of breathing.
Squall felt a warm heat creep up his back. At the seeking feel of Seifer's hand slipping under his shirt, the back of his neck heated up with a heavy wave of something he couldn't place.
It wasn't until Seifer began to move around more, pushing him down to the bed and laying on top of him, that he began to feel a sense of the forbidden, like what they were doing was naughty.
Parting for air, Seifer grinned in satisfaction. "It feels good, doesn't it?" he questioned as he pushed Squall's shirt up.
"I don't know," Squall admitted, "It feels weird, like it makes everything become hot."
"It's supposed to make this place feel the best," Seifer said as he reached down and pat the younger boy's crotch.
"Don't touch me there," Squall said as he skittishly tried to move and knock Seifer's hand away.
"Fine, let's just practice some more," the blond compromised as he took his hand away.
Squall wasn't sure if he was depriving himself of too much oxygen, dangerously becoming a bit numb to reality. His mind felt sluggish, like on the days when he never felt entirely awake and went through the day like he was still sleeping.
Chest heaving for air, Squall gulped it in during their next break. Seifer tore his shirt off, pulling it above his head. It was getting a bit too hot for it anyway.
"Move your legs," Seifer ordered, gripping the lean thighs and pushing the knees apart.
"You're heavy," Squall mumbled as the blond draped atop him once more, settled between his legs.
Without response, the blond resumed their kiss. Touching hands moved all over his exposed body, touching his chest mostly. It wasn't until he felt the pinching of his nipple that he realized what Seifer had been trying to do by massaging him there.
He couldn't exactly understand why it felt good, but it did. "Seifer," he called out softly. He winced as the older boy tweaked him a little too hard. "Ow," he exclaimed.
"Sorry," Seifer muttered, ceasing his ministrations on the one nipple and moving to the other.
Though practice usually made perfect, Squall wondered if anyone could kiss without making a mess. Saliva dribbled down his chin, but every time he tried to wipe it away, Seifer stopped him.
"It's supposed to be messy," Seifer assured when the brunet stubbornly wiped his mouth on the discarded shirt.
"It is?" Squall questioned hesitantly. Staring avidly at the older boy, he reached out and swiped at the slick saliva at Seifer's lips with his thumb.
"That's what the book said. It said that sex is always messy."
Blushing furiously, Squall's eyes widened. "Sex?" he murmured incredulously. "We can't have sex… we'd get in so much trouble."
"Relax, we're just kissing right now."
"I know that," Squall stated defiantly.
"If you touch me too, then we're making out," Seifer suggested as if the new term for their actions was something proud to achieve.
Frowning, Squall cast a furtive glance to his door. "Matron'll be checking in soon. Won't we get in trouble for it?"
"No, everyone does it."
Debating his options, Squall decided that it was okay. Seifer hadn't lied to him about it feeling good, so why should he doubt the more knowledgeable boy now?
Reaching out, he hesitantly massaged over the thick material of Seifer's brightly colored sweatshirt. "Like this?"
Sighing exaggeratedly, Seifer shook his head. Shrugging out of his hoodie, he continued to pull his white t-shirt off as well. Once he was bare-chested, he grabbed one of Squall's bony wrists and placed the hand against his chest. "You gotta grope it, like squeeze and rub."
"Like a massage?" Squall questioned.
"Kind of," the blond said with a nod. "But, we gotta be kissing at the same time." Giving Squall's lips a quick peck, he pushed the brunet back down.
As Squall opened his mouth and swirled his tongue around Seifer's, he tried to do everything at once. He felt like he was patting his head and rubbing his stomach at the same time, not quite able to multitask without make a conscious effort.
Mimicking the blond's actions on his chest, Squall played with Seifer's nipples. He found they became hard and stood out after he touched them. It was kind of fun, but he made sure not to pinch too hard.
"That's it," Seifer said as he gave off an odd sort of noise, pressing down against the Squall's hips a bit.
Between the continued storm and the fact that Squall was a bit lost in the moment, the creaking door didn't register as a noise apart from the thunder and the noises they made every time they felt something good.
It wasn't until the slightly shrill cry of Matron that Squall was suddenly pulled from the thick atmosphere between him and Seifer.
"What do you think you boys are doing?" Edea Kramer cried in disbelief. "Zell, wait in the hall."
"I told you they were making babies!" Zell announced loudly, trotting away quickly at the harsh glare from Seifer.
"Making babies," Edea muttered in half amusement and half horror.
"Seifer Almasy, just what are you doing in Squall's room?"
"We were just kissing," Seifer defended, still wedged between Squall's legs.
"Everyone does it," Squall piped in, taking Seifer's words and using them for both their defense.
"Ten year old boys do not go around kissing Squall Leonhart, you should know better," Matron chastised sternly. "And where are your shirts for Hyne's sake?"
Smirking for a proud moment, Seifer explained, "We took them off so we could make out."
"Make out?" the dark haired woman muttered in disbelief. "Seifer, you will tell me where you learned that term or so help me, I'll take you across my knee and spank you 'till you can't sit."
"That's not fair!" Seifer cried in anger. "We were just kissing a little."
"A little? So help me Seifer, but when I walked in here, you were not kissing just a little. Do not lie to me."
Falling silent, Squall watched the narrowed gaze of amber eyes light up in the bright flash of lightening. He was filled with trepidation and fear of punishment. Unintentionally sidling closer to the older boy, he listened. It was comforting how Seifer never backed down, it sort of made him feel safe.
"You said that kissing wasn't disgusting the last time Zell and Irvine pretended to throw up when we watched that movie last week. You said that it was sweet because it meant you loved someone." Glaring in his attempt to defend what he'd done, which was obviously coerce Squall into doing something naughty, he slung an arm around the small brunet. "We were doing it because we love each other."
In shock, Squall cast a glance up at Seifer. Now he was really confused.
Shivering with cold, Squall huddled into himself and wished for the warmth of body heat that had been given by Seifer's arms.
Eyes snapping open suddenly, Squall shot up from his awkward placing in the small booth. At his right shoulder, his shirt was damp. Rain was making its way in through the small crack of the window. Outside, heavy clouds marred every inch of sky. Distantly, he could see lightening.
Closing the window, Squall frowned in thought. Raising a hand to his lips, he reflected on his dream. He hadn't remembered that night. All his memories weren't in order or restored, not when he still had Shiva junctioned.
He wasn't sure which disturbed him more, the dream of an actual event or the way it made him feel all these years later. His first kiss at ten years old was from his rival. Not only that, but it had turned into much more than a kiss.
With a slight blush, Squall couldn't stop himself before he made the comparison to his intimate moments with Rinoa. He'd never kissed anyone like that. Assuming no more make out sessions occurred after that stormy night eight years ago, Squall felt a slight shame in having never experienced anything quite so passionate… and at the time he hadn't even understood what was going on.
Should he feel morbidly embarrassed that his first kiss was with another man? Granted, Seifer hadn't been a man back then, but the fact remained that it wasn't just some peck on the cheek. What if Zell hadn't found them, or not gone running to Matron?
Blinking in remembrance, Squall found his laughter was unstoppable. Covering his mouth, he laughed at the entire catastrophe that ensued. The phrase, 'Seifer and Squall are making babies' kept repeating in his head.
TBC... please review if you liked it>