Scars

BY : ssjneptune
Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 579
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.

Warning!! This is a Real World Alternate Universe Yaoi fan fiction with Seifer Almasy and Squall Leonhart of Final Fantasy VIII. Although there won't be any lemon for the next couple of chapters, the rating stays at M (NC-17) for safety issues. If you are not of 17 years of age or are not warmed up to the idea of reading about the sexual activities between two men, I suggest you leave while you still can. Is there anyone left? Great! Let me be the first to warn you that this fic is chockfull of not only an ignorant Seifer, but angst (mostly from Squall's part) and some offensive language (mostly from Seifer's part). There will be mentions on non-con, suicidal themes, so if these are not your cup of tea, I'll understand.

- And just to clarify, Final Fantasy VIII is property of Square Soft, although the plot and any made up characters are copyright mio (mine).

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
CHAPTER 1
Electric Encounters
--
"Nice Ass."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"What the fuck do you want, Hunter? I thought I said that I never wanted to hear from you again."

A scowl slowly carved its way onto Seifer Almasy's handsome face, and it's presence didn't solely emerge from the answer on the other side of the phone. He tugged impulsively at the tie wound around his neck, intending to give it one more chance to cooperate before throwing it to the ground in surrender, all the while attempting to balance his mobile phone in-between his neck and left shoulder.

"No, I don't think that a 'quick shag' will help salvage whatever shit is left from our time together."

Looking on the mirror opposite of him for visual, as well as moral, support, Seifer once again set onto to the task of securing a proper knot. Fingers slicked with sweat from impatience attempted to slip a loose tail into its place.

He failed miserably.

"Dammit!" he growled, flinging the pathetic object across the room. He smirked pleasingly as he watched the piece of fabric fly out the window.


'Serves it right. It should've thought twice before messing with me.'


He regarded the pleading voice in his phone, intent on ridding himself of the exasperating whining. "Hunter, stop begging. I don't want us to get back together." ... "I guess I'm you're loss then. Maybe if you'd learn to keep your pants on, you just might have gotten me in your bed by now." ... "No I'm not with somebody else and if I was, I would have gladly told you."

Turning to the mirror, Seifer unfastened the topmost buttons of his light blue shirt. A small amount of tanned skin peeked through the newly exposed layer. He smoothed the collar of the shirt down in what he hoped was the next best presentable look. He debated for several seconds on whether or not to wear the tuxedo jacket supplied to him. Seifer looked, and felt, his best when he was wearing as less clothing as was possible.

He plucked out his pocket-sized comb and raked it through his short, golden hair. There were no tangles in the last three times he had performed the act, but he was nervous, and he knew it fully.

Attending social gatherings alongside his family was always a pain. It was with his father that he always ended up in a quarrel with, but he made haste to end them for his mother’s happiness.

Seifer had moved out of his parents’ mansion in the quiet suburbs of Deling years ago and had bought himself condo somewhere near the center of the city. He checked back every now and then, mostly for his mother, though. His father could never get over the fact that he had chosen men as his sexual preference, and dedicated every day of his life on letting Seifer know that he was unhappy with said decision.

"Are you ready yet, Seifer?"

Through the mirror, pale green eyes discerned the image of an older man standing by the doorway.

His father, Alexander Almasy the second.

The man was an exact copy of Seifer, only twenty years older. He was one of the few important associates to the Galbadian President, as his father had done before him. He is a conservative man and ambitious to a fault. As much as he cares for his only son, he had devoted everything in his power to keep Seifer's sexuality a secret from the outside world.

"Yeah, yeah, almost," Seifer grumbled as he fought to slick back one particular piece of his unruly hair.

"Make it quick. You know how your mother hates to be late, especially for such events."

"Hn."

The Almasy's were none too surprised at receiving a letter from their close friends, an invitation for the celebration of their daughter's engagement. Although he was not the party-type, Alexander agreed to attend solely because their acquaintance was known for throwing together the most popular bashes. One would have to be a fool to not be present.

Seifer re-grabbed the phone with his hand and into it he snarled, "Listen, Hunter, stop groveling. I'm hanging up on you now. Don't bother to call this number again. I'm getting a new one." Snapping the mobile shut with a growl, he tossed the infernal object into the nearest trash bin.

His father eyed the phone that was currently vibrating in the metallic can. "You do know that it is possible to change your number with your current cell phone?"

"Yeah I know, but I never liked that model." Seifer reached to the side and grabbed the tuxedo jacket off the back of the chair. He threw it on with a grumble, slipping muscular arms through silk lining sleeves. He turned and caught his father watching him indistinguishably.

"Somethin' wrong?" he asked, slightly surprised when he witnessed the minor jerk in the other man’s body as if caught committing a heinous crime.


"Yes. We're still in here when we should be outside." Without another word, he exited the room.

Seifer instinctively grabbed his keys from the end table near his bed and headed for the door. "Still can’t get used to me can you, old man?"

---

Seifer's mother was waiting impatiently at the front entrance, as his father had predicted. An elegantly embroidered heel was tapping irritably on the pavement as the pair of golden-haired men approached her. She straightened her posture as they neared, although the vexation on her features had not lessened.

Born Molly Rivera, she more than happily converted her maiden name to the famed Almasy one. Currently a sit-in housewife, she loved to take care of her husband despite the copious maids littered around their home. She was uncontrollable yet calm when needed, had a horrible temper but only when provoked, all of which Seifer inherited. Her high-spirited persona attracted the goodness in others, although it was often taken for granted.

The woman glanced at her watch once more before turning to her husband, her cobalt blue eyes rich with pending chastise. "What took you so long, Alexander? We should have been gone by now! And you!" She faced Seifer and eyed his outfit. "Where is your tie? Was it not with the rest of your outfit? I swear, those people are the most ignorant, incompetent-"

Seifer held up a hand in an attempt to calm his mother. "It's alright, mother. I got rid of it."

"Got rid of it?!"

Alexander cut in the conversation, wanting to spare Seifer the same ranting he had received only moments prior. He took his wife's hand and slowly led her to the car parked up front. "Weren't you complaining about us being late?"

"Oh, right!" the woman giggled, her past fury now drained. Seifer followed closely behind the couple. They climbed into the present black convertible parked on the driveway before it sped off into the streets.

 

.

"How magnificent would it be for Seifer to be walking down that aisle?"

Seifer snorted stridently at his mother's favorite fantasy. Not one day in his life had passed by without her none too subtly steering him in the direction of the beauties of an established relationship. He was never the kind to commit, as he has never found the right guy to pledge his love to. Her attempts at persuasion had become steadily worse following the invitation to the gathering for the commemoration to the engagement.

"What're you snorting about, Seifer? You do know that you're not getting any younger. Twenty-four years old and you've never been in a serious relationship. Not one."

Said blond sighed loudly, his eyes never leaving the high-speed scrolling of buildings past the car window. "That's because I choose not to be in one, mother."

"Whatever happened to that boy, oh, what was his name... Hunter?"

Seifer groaned at the mention of his former partner, remembering all too well their grating discussion that his father had the pleasure of walking in on. "Dumped him."

Molly clicked her tongue in disappointment. "But you two seemed to be getting along fine."

"Correction, mom, he seemed fine with me. I was never particularly taken by him."

"The why did you stay with him for so long?"

The car swerved violently to the right, missing the yellow traffic light completely. "I hardly call six days a long time," Alexander offered callously as he regained his hand placement on the steering wheel.

Seifer only shrugged. "Took me some time to think about how to lay him down gently."

"It's a shame that a man as handsome as you spends his days staring at the television screen as opposed to getting out there and searching for that special someone. You could have met a lovely young man by now. I know I'll never have grandchildren, nevertheless I’d still have a son-in-law."

"Gay marriage is illegal in Deling, Molly," Seifer’s father retorted.

"Oh hush, Alexander. I'm trying to make myself feel better." Seifer slumped further into his seat. "Sit up straight, honey or you're clothes will wrinkle." Seifer grumbled, but he obeyed his mother’s command.

Minutes elapsed mutely, only to be interrupted by a desperate call from the passenger’s side. "Seifer, could you at least promise me that you’ll make the most out of your time at the wedding."

Seifer made a vast effort to not sigh at his mother’s wasted ranting, although he managed to answer with a weary, "Sure, whatever."

"Just make it discreet, you hear?" his father added. "I don’t want newspapers boasting a front-page headline about my only son being a queer."

The blond cringed involuntarily at the sound of the crude word. He wouldn’t have cared if it were uttered by a total stranger, but hearing it from his own father was… heartbreaking.

Seifer shut his eyes to stop the few gathered tears from falling out, unwilling to show anyone, especially his father, that he had hit a marked spot.


‘Perfect. As if I need red eyes at a time like this. How am I supposed to impress anyone now…’


The rest of the ride went by in silence.

---

Approximately a half hour had passed before an extravagant, cream-colored mansion came into clear view. It appeared excessively large although it was for a large formal gathering. Alexander decelerated the car into the driveway as they approached opening gates. He switched off the engine when he saw the resident's valet draw near. The family stepped out of the vehicle as the valet took over, graciously accepting the keys handed to him.

As Molly headed towards the friends waving in her direction, Alexander dragged Seifer aside to a secluded area.

He greeted passing acquaintances with a small nod and a congenial smile before returning his eyes, a vision of pure, concentrated hatred, to Seifer with a practiced sneer in place. The young blond had to stop himself from backing up at the sight. Countless times had he viewed this side of his father, but it never stopped the warmth of his body from being replaced by a mask of frosty covering.

"I'm only going to say this once, so pay very close attention. The rules are the same as always. Ten feet between you and any pretty boy around this place. If a young guy comes up to you to talk, run away. If its a son of my associates, make nice, but from a distance. And if I see you flirting, there better be a pretty ass on the receiving end. Do I make myself clear?"

Seifer nodded once thickly, a small distraction to impede himself from doing anything he would regret in the long run.

"Good."

The older man roughly shoved his son aside before crossing the lawn to join his friends at the front entrance, his antagonistic disguise efficiently hidden. Seifer remained in his position until he had convinced himself to breath in even gulps of air. He ran a nervous hand through his hair in a false attempt to settle himself down.

He had always received the same speech whenever the family went out to these gatherings. His mother was oblivious to the heated father-son "talks" they had before entering the households. He kept up the well-built façade he had formed after all these years for her sake, so she wouldn't have to endure the pain his father struck onto him, even with that lethal glare he always wore.

Feeling confident that his legs would not entangle themselves from his previous shock, he slowly made his way across the lawn. He was in no rush. No gathering would last all afternoon and well into the evening. He had only to devise plans on how to evade his father for the remainder of the day.

Seifer made it to the front entrance without wavering, but before entering, his ears picked up on a conversation nearby.

"How’s that son of yours, Almasy? Hitched any woman as of yet?"

His father laughed. The tone was the same whenever they were alone, mocking him and his pathetic excuse for a life. "None as of now. There just doesn’t seem to be anybody right for him."

So many predicaments have built up over the years, the rooted hate strong enough to withstand any form of aid. Seifer often supposes that he had brought all this distraught upon himself, but he vowed that one day he would turn it all around.

---

Seifer had to find it deep within himself to prevent from rolling his eyes at the girlish giggles emitting from the various women around him. Not even a couple of minutes had the chance of running by before a horde of women had discovered his presence. A trained grin took over the frown on his lips as he readied himself for a long and depressing day.

"So… Seifer," a scantily dressed blonde cooed from his right, tasting his name as if it were rich chocolate melting pleasurably in her mouth, "has any girl been able to corner you these days?"

"You see, ladies…" the handsome blond began, not quite sure on how to escape his latest quandary.

"And we’ll know if you’re lying," a redhead nearby quipped as she toyed with the hem of Seifer's jacket, "because word on the street is that no one has been able to get a hold of you for too long."

His family had never exactly wanted to go public about their only son being a homosexual; only a chosen, trustworthy few were familiar with that piece of information. And now here he was, enduring the pain as he pretended to be a single, straight male who was secretly seeking out his gay soul mate.

Just as he was ready to excuse himself, something on the other side of the room caught his eye, or rather, someone.

He was shorter than Seifer, only by a couple of inches. Straight, chocolate brown hair fell in layers over his slate grey eyes and delicately drawn face. Even from his fair distance, Seifer could see that the brunet had a nice body underneath his creamy white dress shirt and tight leather pants. He was currently balancing a tray of sweets in one hand, and a bottle of champagne in the other, offering several passerby’s the treats as his disposal.

He turned around, perhaps deciding where to go next.


‘You’re always welcome here with me, kitten. Come and save me from these girls; I need some real fun tonight.’


The brunet must have somehow heard Seifer’s pleas, as he was now headed in the blond’s direction.

Seifer struggled to recall when he had last felt like this, then again, he had never laid eyes on a guy that was so… mesmerizing, someone who was worth his attention. His lungs constricted, the ability to breathe now a foreign act to the thunder stricken blond. He sucked in a gulp of air, hoping to at least restore some color to his blanch face in a final act to appear presentable.

As the brunet was nearing, Seifer was able to make his appearance more clearly. The boy looked young but not overly so, maybe about 18, or 19. He was probably a little too young for Seifer’s taste, but a chance that he was willing to take. When he rounded a nearby table before continuing his prior path, Seifer got a good look at a perfectly shaped ass. 

Definitely worth a chance.

For those few split seconds, Seifer took no heed on neither the incessant shrilly voices of the women clinging desperately to his arms, nor the monotonous chatter of the wealthy people around him. Everyone but that sultry brunet ceased to exist in both his mind and vision. The fact that a creature so beautiful, so breathtaking could exist ever so presently as it did now was too much for Seifer's brain to handle.

Seifer couldn't decide whether all he wanted from this boy was a fleeting fling or something more profound. Whatever option he chose to take, one thing was certain: he was not leaving without that brunet's number.

Relocating his line of vision proved a difficult feat. Seifer knew his eyesight was lasting longer than most should, but he couldn't help himself. The prattling women at his side must have detected his lack of contribution to the discussion at hand, but they said nothing, continuing as if the blond were still incorporating his opinion.

Had Seifer not have been lost in his own daydreams, he would have caught the curious glare aimed at him from behind choppy bangs. The youth brushed the gaping blond's perplexing behavior aside, concentrating on sustaining the large plate as the regal young women excitedly selected the delicacies they believed were most "qualified".

Gathering the new weight over his hand, the brunet set off.

It took Seifer a few seconds to understand what had taken place. He blinked, his mind flickering the image of the boy's hurried departure. Turning swiftly, he was still able to distinguish the new object of his desires within the waves of the crowd.

Seifer reacted in the fastest way he could. He excused himself with no second thought to his stammering words and suppressed the rising smirk after witnessing the disappointed faces of the surrounding women. The tall blond walked quickly to catch up with the speedy brunet, latching a hand onto the delicate wrist that was clutching the crystal bottle once he was close enough.

The brunet froze in his place when he felt someone grab him. He turned around slowly, staring down at the hand gripping his wrist. He slowly trekked his misty grey orbs up to meet with ambitious sea green ones, not so surprised to note that it was the same blond that was staring at him strangely back at the buffet table. His eyes narrowed as his mind replayed the desire etched on the blond’s face from only moments ago. Despite the hostility growing bitterly inside of him, he forced himself to say:

"Can I help you?"

Seifer had once again lost his capability of speech. The boy’s voice was like sweet melody to his ears, easily melting any heartache that he had previously acquired. And those eyes... he could get lost in those bluish currents, never to find his way home again, although he would remain content.

"Hello?" The short brunet was trying to mask the icy chill in his voice. After all, he didn't want his employer being informed on his poor social skills or else he'd be docked his pay. Again. As if he cared at the moment, though. He had had enough of those stares for one passing day.

Seifer had to force himself awake to the present situation with a slight shake of his head. He promptly removed his hand from the semi-disturbed brunet, searching for a motive on his injudicious appearance.

"I’m sorry; I just, um, just wanted one of those." Signaling lamely to the large tray the young man held in his left hand, the tall young man withstood the desire to strangle himself for the idiotic cover which he had fabricated.

"So take one," the brunet replied dully, thrusting the serving dish in front of Seifer.

"Thanks," the blond mumbled as he took hold of one colorful treats.

The beauty muttered a simple "whatever" before turning his back to the large man, intent on continuing his rounds.

Seifer stepped forward, ready to chase after the boy if it were necessary. "Hey, wait up!"

Gnashing his teeth in irritation, the brunet reluctantly whirled around to face the source of the now irritating voice.

"What?" This time around, he didn’t try to conceal his dissatisfaction at being restrained.

Seifer brought up a hand to massage the back of his neck, nervousness sinking in deeper than he would have liked.‘Why the fuck do I feel so nervous? He’s just a guy… a really hot guy. Oh, who am I kidding. I want him. But then again, this is so stupid. I don't even know whether this guy is gay or not, but then again, who cares? Mom said to loosen up, and Dad doesn't want me talking with anyone who doesn't have a pretty ass. And I think this guy makes the cut. Fuck it. I'm going in.’

He looked up into narrowed eyes, and asked carefully, "Do you… need any help with that?"'What the fuck was that, Almasy?! 'Do you need any-' You couldn't possibly get any more pathetic than that.'

Two chocolate eyebrows fastened together to create a deadly scowl malicious enough to send quivers running through Seifer's body. "No."

"It looks heavy," he continued despite the brunet's apprehensiveness, "I can help you carry it."'I stand corrected.'

"I said, 'no.'"

"Fuck, what's wrong with you? I'm merely offering my assistance."

"And I'm merely rejecting your pathetic request for assistance," the brunet spat back.

Seifer glared sternly at the short youth. "Shit, who peed in your Cheerios this morning?"

The boy heaved a dreary sigh, his patience more than trampled by the tall blond's ignorance. His tone remained no less unreserved. "No one. I don't eat cereal." Once noticing the blond's handsome features scrunched in confusion, the young brunet took the opportunity to walk past him, intent on finishing his shift so he could return home on the time scheduled.

Contrary to his plans, Seifer was quick to react and followed closely behind him, taking care not to bump into the stray crowd on the way. "It's a figure of speech, Princess; you don't need to take it seriously. And," he pulled on the youth’s arm to slow down his pace as they entered a new, less occupied room, "can you stop moving around? I'm trying to talk to you."

"And I'm trying to ignore you," Squall grounded out as he moved to snatch back his arm.

Unfortunately for him, the grip on his limb was firmer than he had anticipated. His body rebounded, hitting forward against the strong chest of the tall blond. An arm was quick to wrap around his waist to prevent the youth from fall stumbling further, although it did not avoid the items from slipping out of his grasp and crashing onto the marble floor.

The loud shattering of the crystal bottle and the thunderous clattering of the large plate sent the proximate people scrambling around the room in an alarming buzz. Even as the frenzy eased, the couple in the center of the commotion went unnoticed.

The young boy looked up, flinching when he saw how close he was to the irritating stranger. His features slanted in discomfort on being rewarded with something comparable to a small smile from the blond’s part. He didn't like being this close to this man and neither did he take too well to the tingling feeling welling up from deep inside because of his small action. He especially hated the fact that he had not hurried to remove himself from their embarrassing position.

Seifer watched in awe as the brunet's eyes seemed to transform hues before him. He couldn't immediately decipher whether it was good or not, but since he wasn't immediately shoved aside, he allowed himself the benefit of thinking so. He strived to remember the reason for pursuing the boy, but he was not able to match his reflections to a solid answer. Seifer knew it himself that his relationships were hardly worth the anguish and had never last more than a couple of days, so why was he here?

"Well I'll be damned."

Both men were quick to fall out of their extended trance and hastily detangled themselves. The brunet turned his head as if to assess the accident, when in reality he was fighting to hide the blush that was slowly creeping across his cheeks against his will. The tall blond grumbled for his loss before turning to regard the keeper of the voice.

The man who had disrupted the pair carried on unconcerned. He tipped his cowboy hat downward in greeting and said in a heavy drawl, "Seifer Almasy. Ah reckon it's been long, too long."

Seifer's past fury at the interrupted extinguished itself as soon as he registered the voice he's known all-too well for the past two decades. "Yeah, sure has Irvine. And stop talking like that. It annoys the shit out of me," he added playfully as he accepted the outstretched hand for a handshake.

Irvine Kinneas, resident playboy and general heartbreaker, not that the ludicrous titles stopped the ladies from knocking on his door. He knows how to charm, and he does it well, although his good looks did contribute heartily to his success. He tended to stick to the old custom clothing, that was, from the cowboys of way back when. He's grown taller through the years, losing to Seifer by only a couple of inches. He had let his light-brown hair grow out far past shoulder length merely to annoy his mother.

Irvine has lived in Galbadia all his life, born and raised into one of the wealthiest families that dated back into the years past. He and Seifer had met through a controversial meeting during their early years. It was after receiving punches and troubles from each other did they learn that together they made the better team.

As Irvine and Seifer's hands separated, the auburn-haired man's vision attached itself to the gorgeous boy on Seifer's right. "And who's your... friend?" he asked as his eyes trailed down the brunet's body slowly as if undressing him.

The tall blond tilted his head in a pensive movement, unaware of his friend's examination. "Oh, this is, uh...," Now that Seifer thought about it, he had never bothered to get the boy's name.

"None of your business," the youth supplied, his voice tinted with an icy edge.

Irvine's grin only grew wider. "You sure know how to pick them, Seifer."

The short brunet didn't undergo the endeavor of concealing the sneer on his delicate features as Irvine's eyes continued scanning his body shamelessly. With an irritable huff, he turned on his heel and proceeded to pick up the mess. He noticed the numerous glass shards, not having before, as he was completely distracted. He instead lifted the large metal plate and when on his way to find the nearest janitor.

The lanky man draped an arm around Seifer's shoulders platonically. "Nice ass," he murmured, his sight fastened on the slight shake of the globes of the youth's buttocks with every sultry sway of his hips, the black leather pants tightly gripping the firm globes of his ass.

"I know," Seifer agreed hazily as he too surveyed the gentle sway of smooth hips as they sauntered away. He watched curiously as the boy nodded curtly to a man on the other side of the room before exiting to through the double doors and into the kitchen. Seifer straightened his posture, Irvine's arm falling off in the process. "God, I want him."

"Save the dreams for when you're sleepin', Seifer," Irvine chided, knocking a knuckle lightly against the blond's temple. "You know how your old man gets whenever you set your sights on a pretty tail."

"Yeah." The mere mention of his father was enough to set his senses straight, though not completely.

He punched his friend in the arm playfully, hoping to snap him out of his hypnotic daze. "Lucky bastard. I come to this joint just for the women, only to find them drapin' themselves all over you."

Seifer chuckled at his friend's attempt to hearten his mood. "Nice to see you too, Irvine."

"You know I was jokin', right? 'Cause if you want, we can always share. Always wondered what a threesome with a man was like..." Irvine let the suggestion linger in the air, his own degenerate mind already coming up with lasting images.

"I'll consider it." Although his ears were partially attentive to the longhaired man's chatting, his eyes maintained the spot through which the boy had gone through and whether or not he should follow.

"Somethin' wrong?" A hand waved in front of his face.

Seifer grabbed the invading limb abrasively and twisted it enough to cause minor pain. "Nothing's wrong. Everything's peachy." He released the hand with a strong fling.

Irvine caressed his offended hand. "Damn. No need to get violent about it." He turned to Seifer, who had yet to look him in the eye. "Saw you flirtin' with that boy. I'm sure half the room did, too."

"Seems neither flirting nor flattery works on that guy. A real cold bitch, that's what he is."

"Either that, or you need to work on your pick-up lines," Irvine suggested. "Joking, man. Joking," he quickly added when Seifer turned to glare at him. "So... care to catch up with an old friend, or would you rather ditch him for fresh meat?"

"The latter," Seifer answered almost instantly, "No offense, but men like that don't some around every day. Can't let an opportunity like this slip away."

"Need help cornering the squirt?"

"Nah. I'm sure I can handle one little kid."

"Whatever you say, just be careful, alright? I don’t need people coming up to me saying that my best friend’s a cradle robber."

Seifer offered his friend a curious glance. "He’s not that young."

"Have you bothered to ask him?"

"He just doesn’t look it," Seifer argued as he willed the hidden truth away.

"Looks can be deceiving," Irvine patted Seifer's back affectionately and added a cautious, "just watch yourself," before strolling after a group of women.

Seifer rolled his eyes at Irvine's typical behavior. The man could never take a breather from his favorite activity. Speaking of which, Seifer had best get on to his. Straightening his clothes out of habit, he headed towards the double doors on the far side of the room. He stopped short once he went through, uncaring of the lavish kitchen design as his eyes zoomed in on the familiar figure struggling with something in his hands, his back to Seifer. There was another man in similar attire standing beside him. He ceased his conversation, obvious gossip, upon noticing the intruding blond.

"I gotta go. See ya tomorrow, Squall."

The short brunet did not respond to his coworker’s farewell, faking absorbance in his current activity.

Seifer waited with diminishing patience for the man to depart before announcing his presence.

"Missed me?"

Slim fingers shuddered from the intrusion, causing the tumbling can in his hand to drop noisily. The boy, otherwise known as "Squall", leaned down to pick up the can, purposely ignoring the irritant visitor.

"So it's Squall, isn't it?"

Squall halted his movements upon hearing his name slip past Seifer's lips. Seifer smirked, as he had timed his question appropriately. He mentally photographed the youth’s pose, his shapely bottom half-raised in the air, the leather pants accentuating the fine curves of his cheeks.

"Nice name. Pretty accurate, from what I’ve seen so far, of course." Seifer examined the brunet as he stood upright, waiting with newfound patience for the boy to respond, to lash out on him at least. "What else does it imply, I wonder? Bet you’re quite the screamer." Seifer grinned victoriously upon detecting a small twitch before Squall moved about once more to the sink on the other end.

Seifer remained in his position as Squall collected a fine amount of sullied dishes before dumping them in the water-filled sink. Drops of water jumped out to land on the boy, who in turn disregarded the action by seizing the nearest bottle of soap. He poured it on his bare hands and began his task.

"Come dance with me," Seifer proposed with over exuberance after moments of silence. The room next door had switched on the sound system, and Seifer was more than ready for another chance at renewing his hunt.

There was a sound of dishes clanging raucously before Squall questioned bewilderedly, "Are you insane?"

"No. I’m just itchin’ to have a good time," Seifer explained, walking over and leaning on the counter to Squall’s left, watching the youth intently.

Squall scrubbed unnecessarily harder on the dish in his hands to keep from fidgeting under the blond’s burning gaze. "So then go have it."

Seifer craned his head, listening attentively to the slightly muffled music in the connecting room. "They’re playing my song, you know," he cooed softly, purposely inching closer.

"Great. Have fun." Squall looked up, his eyes searching for a pair of gloves. A strong hand on his shoulder prevented him from moving towards the found item.

Without so much as a look back, Squall asked petulantly, "Do you mind?"

"Actually, I do."

The brunet sighed annoyingly. "What do you want from me?"

"A dance, nothing else," Seifer stated, loosing his hold.

Squall snatched his arm back and intoned, "Why don’t you go and get one of your girlfriends to accompany you. As you can see, I’m busy."

"Nonsense. You’ve got all night to clean this shit up. Take a load off."

"Easy for you to say. While some of us have to work for a living, the rest are handed their lives on a silver platter." Squall grabbed the gloves from the nearby hook and slipped it on. "I’m starting now."

"You’ve got to learn how to live a little." Squall frowned at the hidden insinuation. "You keep frowning like that and it will never go away."

"What the fuck do you care? Can you please just leave so that I can get started?"

"There’s no getting through to you, is there?"

"I never asked for you’re attention," Squall pointed out as he grabbed another dish on his side.

Seifer smirked, at last seeing an opportunity to soothe the frosty youth. "Couldn’t help myself. The minute I saw you, I just knew that I needed to spend the night with you."

A dish slid from apprehensive fingers to crash loudly onto the polished kitchen floor, shattering into countless shards of sharp glass that spread noisily around the perimeter of the brunet’s position.

"Squall! Are you alright?"

The brunet remained inert, although the blond’s calling had permeated through his mind. He showed no sign, though, of his having heard Seifer’s worry.

"Squall?"

Squall snapped out of his sudden reverie when he felt strong arms come around his body. His own arms hung by his sides hopelessly, as if paralyzed. He wanted the blond off him badly, but he couldn’t find the power to shrug the large man off. He settled for letting himself sink into the gentle embrace."Just this once…"

"Hey, are you alright?" The blond’s breath was hot on his ear, the low, husky voice creating involuntary shivers to cruise down his spine.

"Yeah," he finally managed to answer.

"You scared me shitless. I thought that glass had hit you." Seifer pulled back and took Squall’s chin in his hand. He tilted the brunet’s head back, the boy’s bluish eyes immediately snapping into his gaze. "You should be more careful."

"I will," Squall replied evenly.

"Okay."

Seeing the silence as an ideal opening, Seifer leaned forward slowly, gradually closing the distance between himself and the other pair of ruby-colored lips. Their breath merged for brief seconds, their lips scarcely near. As Seifer went to close the short space, Squall turned his head aside, the resulting action causing Seifer’s mouth to meet with a creamy cheek instead of pouting lips. He let his lips hang onto the cool flesh before extracting them, and himself, from the warm body.

Squall remained motionless, only his blinking eyes and fast breathing evidence that he was indeed alive.

Seifer wanted to groan at his loss, yet at the same time reprimand himself for taking advantage of the brunet in his moment of weakness. He invented copious options in his mind, ways for him to stay with the chilly youth, but he opted for departure instead.

Before making a move to leave, he asked quietly, "Sure you’ll be alright?"

Squall’s head turned forward leisurely to meet with Seifer’s eyes. "I’m not a child."

"Of course not." Seifer forced a smile despite their previous circumstance. Squall frowned, puzzled at the peculiar expression. Before he could voice his concern, the handsome blond had made his way to the kitchen door and left without a look back.

Squall crossed the kitchen for an apron, not wanting to wet himself any further. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Seifer being pulled by the arm by Irvine towards a group of women. Squall continued to watch through the miniature window embedded on one of the doors curiously as his slipped on the apron, his eyes narrowing on their own accord as he watched Seifer kiss the hand of a giggling brunette. He whirled around and marched back to his post the moment that the blond’s arm had snaked across the girl’s waist.

---

Two hours.

That was the amount of time that had passed since Seifer had last seen Squall’s face. Sure, he was talented enough to mask his agitation, especially since he had spent these past hours with Irvine and the women whom he had seduced. Irvine had caught him the second he made it through the doors of the kitchen and from then, every word spoken was no longer comprehensible in his mind.

He had smiled in greeting, he had laughed at the appropriate times, he had argued his opinion on certain topics, but he had done so mechanically.

In the end, he guessed that most of all… he was afraid. Afraid of having found what he had been most desiring for most of his life, and afraid of never being able to obtain it. It was not love at first sight; Seifer hated those cliché thoughts and feelings. Despite the new fear plaguing his soul, one thing was certain: he wanted to see the brunet again. And again. And never let him out of his sight.

The idea of having the brunet by his side inspired him with the motivation to look for him… and to not run away at the first sign of danger. He politely excused himself for the second time that day, winking secretly at Irvine before setting off.

Seifer crossed the large rooms of the household, one after another continuously, asking around for a certain brunet with a sour face. When no one could inform him of Squall’s whereabouts, he decided to browse around the many corridors framing the home.

After walking through a long hallway, he stumbled upon a bedroom on the far side of the mansion. Hearing a voice as he approached, Seifer peeked inside, pushing the door open all the way. There, he witnessed the young boy and an older man with him, who looked to be a friend of his father’s. He forced his eyes to perform a double-check, because he could have sworn that the man was not only cornering the youth, but also touching him?

"Such a beautiful creature," he heard the man say as he crept closer, pressing Squall firmly against the wall with his body.

He watched with pounding trepidation as a hand slowly trailed from its position on a smooth cheek down the side of the brunet's lithe body and stopped at his hip. It then grasped onto the waist tightly, roughly shoving the smaller body onto the bed beside them, landing with a bounce. The man soon followed, jumping on top of the boy, his mouth wasting no time in latching itself onto the exposed pale neck.

Seifer gritted his teeth as he watched the vile display with painful anticipation, the wheels in his mind moving about, finding a way to get the beauty out of there. He had the indecency to believe that perhaps they were a couple of some sorts, but he quickly shoved that nauseating thought aside. The man had brought his wife along to a dinner party that his parents had hosted not long ago. So why was he there molesting that innocent brunet?

And where the fuck was that wife?

What Seifer had most trouble composing was why the boy was consenting to the man's advances? The least he could have done was run away, but lying there and taking it all as if the touches were pleasurable?

Seifer raised his green eyes, particularly keen on what was written on those youthful features. His breath shortened to stunted gasps at what he witnessed. The eyes were slightly widened, once present bluish streaks were overtaken by a dark grey covering. They didn't appear frightened but ashamed, vulnerable, and were strongly fastened on the man atop him. It was a look Seifer would never have thought to associate with the temperamental brunet. He had to do something, and quick before it got out of hand. But what could he do? Hurl himself in the room claiming that they were lovers? His father would never forgive if word ever got around from that.

Then what can he do?'Shit, what should I do? Think, Almasy, think. I can't just go charging in there. Fuck. He just had to be my father's friend instead of my mother's... He'd never believe my word over this guy's... unless there happened to be another witness. That's it!'

Seifer retracted his hand back slowly to ensure that the door could fall shut soundlessly. With a half-baked plan in hand, he was intent on quickly finding the being nearest his location. His wishful thoughts, however, quickly slipped away as soon as a loud creak emitted from the rusting hinges of the closing door.

He stood still in his position. Maybe they hadn't heard the creak.

He didn’t know how wrong he was.

The man had stopped his ministrations on the mishandled body beneath him to shift his malicious gaze to the intruder that had dared to interrupt him. At first, his eyes widened somewhat when he registered that it was Almasy's son standing in the doorway, but they gradually narrowed to compliment the spiteful smirk etched onto his mouth.

The brunet looked up from his trapped position to see what it was that had miraculously stopped the burning touches from further scalding his body. He regretted his decision instantly when his storm-like eyes landed on the bewildered emerald ones of the man that he had the displeasure of meeting in the dining area earlier that day.

'Seifer.'

.

To Be Continued…



You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story