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Whispered Screams	By : AngryAngel Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 6957 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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CHAPTER 1 � HIGH AND LOW

"Gawd, I'm gonna be
late... like so fucking late!"
Hurling his school bags
onto the back of his red pickup truck, a tall blonde who generally heeded to
the name Seifer Almasy was cursing violently in distress. He didn't care
whether or not his temper would wake the folks in his nice suburban
neighborhood at this ungodly hour on a Tuesday morning; he had far more important
things to worry about. This was the first day of school after summer break,
more so, his very first day at Deling City High - and he was going to be
late.
He had moved to this town mere weeks ago and spent most of his vacation
setting up his small apartment and getting acquainted with his new
"home", if that was what he was to call it. Really, home was about a
three hour drive away, in Balamb
City where his parents
lived, but for reasons that he usually hated to elaborate on he was now stuck
in this place - alone.
To top it all off, he had
been forced to change schools before the beginning of his senior year, which
would most likely result in his grades dropping yet another notch. Not that
they had actually needed a shove down the grade curve - they had been steadily
descending all on their own.
Well, in any case, he had
little more than fifteen minutes to get his ass into gear and somehow into his
math class without the crucial knowledge of where said class was even held at.
Yep, things sure weren't
looking good for the home team, thank you very much.
As Seifer leaped into the
driver seat of his brand new truck and slammed the door shut behind himself, he could almost hear the nagging voice of his
mother in his ears, tiring him with well-meant pieces of advice that he never
actually bothered to follow, anyway.
"Have you checked
with your counselor yet? Have you figured out all the places you need to go?
Which classes are you going to take? Have you talked to the football coach
about your missed summer practise? Have you made any friends yet? Are you sure
you don't need anything else, honey? And please don't forget what Dad and I
told you about... you know what."
Mothers sure had an
impeccable talent of being so very goddamn annoying with their uncalled for demonstrations
of parental love, affection and care. Apparently, Seifer's mother thought that
his bisexuality (she refused to voice the term and usually referred to it as
"you know what") caused permanent stupidity and immaturity. According
to her, he was clueless about how to properly take care of himself. But hey, he
was eighteen years old (nineteen in December, thank you very much), and he
could take care of himself alright. He didn't have much of a choice in the
first place, being stuck in Deling
City on his own and what
not. When ever would she understand that?
Sighing, Seifer flipped
his car key in the lock and started the engine. He'd have to hurry and take the
freeway or something if he held any notion of making it to class in time - and
he did, surprising as it was.
Dawn was already streaking
the greyish skies with bright hues of pink and orange, but luckily traffic
wasn't bustling just yet. Seifer was able to pull onto the road and head
towards school, which was located at the other end of town, without passing
much more than the occasional delivery truck and other fellow early birds that
were headed to class or wherever.
Still yawning a little
dozily, Seifer cast a bored glance into his rear view mirror, checking out his
own reflection. Gazing back at him was the clean-cut, angular face of a very tanned high school senior, as well as a pair of
strident jade green eyes that were sparking with natural spunk. He was a
handsome young man alright, as he was told often enough. In fact, Seifer Almasy
could easily be taken for your stereotypical high school jock - he was tall,
buff and a talented football player who was extremely popular with the girls...
and fully aware of it, too. He wasn't exactly an honor roll student, but it
wasn't like he carried any aspirations for geniusdom or a career in medicine,
as much as his parents would have rejoiced.
On the contrary, Seifer
was a seemingly natural born athlete. He played football, baseball and
basketball, and he was also an avid track runner. Seifer was a guy who knew
well of his weaknesses and strengths, though he usually tended to underrate the
first and overrate the latter.
But who the hell cared
about such trivial matters, anyway - perfection came in a whole lotta flavors.
Just as he was tapping the
steering wheel in boredom and quietly hummed along a tune broadcasted by his
favorite local rock station, a flash of black in his rear view mirror caught
Seifer's attention. Irritated, he glanced out of the window and onto the street
that was slightly slicked with rain from the night. He almost reeled backwards,
totally staggered by a motorcyclist launching by his
left side at neckbreaking speed.
Seifer arched an eyebrow.
"What the fuck?"
As the biker pulled in
before him, his break lights hardly flashing, Seifer scowled ominously. He
hated to be passed, particularly so if he was already going way faster than the
speed limit dictated. What the fuck was that guy thinking? Always
granted of course that he was thinking at all.
"... Why, I think you
just earned yourself a free lesson, biker boy."
With a roguish grin
curling his features, Seifer quickly changed gears and mashed his foot down
upon the accelerator. He had always despised motorcyclists - they didn't go
down too well his attitude. Usually they'd try to mess with him, and he'd
happily mess right back.
Today was no exception.
He was closing in on the
biker fast, and he didn't even bother to set his turn signal as he swerved into
the passing lane. Smirking, he whipped his head to his right as he was about
leveled with the motorcycle. The guy on the bike was wearing faded blue jeans
and heavy boots, a black leather jacket and an equally black helmet. They
matched the color of his ride. The book bag he had strapped onto his back kinda
made Seifer wonder for a moment; this was quite possibly a fellow student of
Deling City High.
'All
the more reason to leave a lasting impression.'
Inevitably, the biker
turned to face him, and Seifer thought that he could feel the guy's irritation
simmering off of him even through his reflective visor.
Ah - bikers. It was simply
too much fun fucking with their minds.
Giving a smug wave and a
thumbs-down, Seifer floored his gas pedal and took off. Glancing into his rear
view mirror, he could see the biker following him with his eyes. Sneering and
leaning back in his seat, the blonde returned to the right lane, and he
couldn't deny that he felt pretty damn good about himself.
That was until he heard a
powerful exhaust howling to his left.
He turned around, slowly
almost, disbelief etched into his angular features. Though he was going fast
enough to justify the loss of his license if a cop was just lucky enough to
spot him, sure enough his jade green eyes were set yet again upon the guy on
his black Honda.
Seifer gave a low grunt.
"Motherfucker..."
To make matters worse, the
biker flicked up his gloved hand and flipped Seifer the bird. He continued to
hold his middle finger up quite unambiguously, ensuring that the blonde had
seen it up nice and close, before he curled his hand back around his handlebar
and cut in front of Seifer's truck the very moment that their lanes merged.
A hissing sound escaped
the blonde's lips, and he was rendered speechless for the length of a moment.
"Little
fucking bitch!"
He slammed his hands down
upon the steering wheel in frustration and he felt his stomach coiling with
anger. They were hitting the suburbs again, and just like the biker, Seifer
inevitably had to adjust his speed. They were close to the school now, and
there obviously wouldn't be another chance to pass the guy on the motorcycle
and slap him back into his place.
This was a clearly cut
loss, and one thing was for certain - Seifer Almasy was a sore loser.
He followed the Honda
further down the road and to the broad complex of Deling City
High School. They passed
track and tennis courts, a football stadium and an outdoors pool until the
biker finally pulled into a parking lot that was already packed with cars and
students. Seifer tailed after the guy closely, not letting him out of sight. As
soon as the Honda had stopped in a vacant parking space, away from the main
crowd, Seifer slammed on his brakes and pulled into the very same spot, thus
blocking the biker off.
Impulse and a very short
temper drove the blonde to lunge out of his truck and throw his door shut
violently. Meanwhile, the Honda owner had dismounted his bike and stood with
his back turned on Seifer. He seemed to be a few inches shorter than the
eighteen year old and quite more delicate in his build, but said fact didn't
even quench a hint of Seifer's anger. The blonde had barely opened his mouth to
commence yelling and smacking that kid around, when the biker slowly removed
his helmet and turned around.
Straight, chocolate brown
hair that was slightly longish fell out of the helmet's confinement and into a
pale, finely featured face with casual elegance. Eyes that were shifting hues
from blue to grey glared at Seifer from behind thick lashes of black, and thin
brows were laced together in the genesis of one of the scariest frowns that
Seifer had ever come across. The blonde had to blink once or twice, fighting
the urge to drop his jaw and his anger. He wasn't easily impressed by fine
looks, but this guy was fucking hot stuff if he'd ever seen any.
'Fuck, don't even THINK
about it, Almasy!'
He swallowed hard,
desperately trying to grind up his aggression that seemed to have evaporated.
Surprisingly, the dark haired biker eased Seifer's way back into furiosity as
if it was entirely natural to him.
"Can't find your own
parking spot?" the brunette hissed softly, his voice clear but tainted
with sarcasm that was sharper than razor blades.
Seifer's anger returned
almost instantly.
"Nah, I figured I'd
take your's and beat your skinny ass in one go," he snarled. "Fucking prick."
"Oh,
really? I'd
like to see you try," the brunette responded coolly, one of his eyebrows
twitching daringly.
"No problem, I'll be
happy to deliver."
"If
that'll fix your hurt pride."
"You little piece
of-"
"Hr-hrm."
Seifer swiveled around at
the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him rather noisily. He
plainly hated to be interrupted, and he had been rather unaware of students
stopping around them to watch the scene. One of those bystanders turned out to
be the guy with the obnoxiously rasp throat, and he had strategically placed
himself right behind the blonde.
Annoyed, Seifer gave the
youth a curt look-over. He was about his height, slender, with long, wavy
auburn hair and fascinating amethyst colored eyes. He was good-looking, though
not necessarily Seifer's type, which might be to blame on the fact that the guy
was wearing a cowboy hat of all freaking things. It didn't even look too
bad with his white t-shirt and snug fitting blue jeans, but Seifer had no nerve
for such quirks.
Crossing his arms before
his broad chest, he slit his eyes and crushed his lips to a thin line that
suggested danger.
"What?"
he snapped, his snide voice holding a note of impatience that was impossible to
miss.
The cowboy grinned
lopsidedly, and he tipped his head in greeting.
"Seifer Almasy,"
he said, mock drama evident in the way he pronounced the blonde's name as he
took a slight bow, "Meet Squall Leonhart."
He had pointed at someone
behind Seifer, and as the blonde threw a bored half-glance across his shoulder,
he became to understand who this Squall Leonhart person was supposed to be.
"Whatever," the
grumpy brunette biker bit in response to Irvine's
introduction as he tightened his hold around his helmet.
Before Seifer could have
said anything, the guy called Squall had pivoted on the spot and stalked off in
the direction of the school building, leaving his bike somewhere between the
curb and Seifer's truck as if he really didn't give a damn.
"Jeez, what the fuck
ever is his problem, anyway..." Seifer found himself mumbling under
his breath, glaring holes in Squall Leonhart's back.
"Oh, don't mind
him," the cowboy next to him commented blithely, waving one hand in a
dismissive gesture. "He's a lil on the, ah, antisocial side, you
see."
"And who are you,
wisecrack?" the blonde snarled.
"Oh. Irvine Kinneas. Pleased to meet ya, and
all."
"How did you know my
name?"
"Your
Varsity jacket."
Indeed, the red and white
football jacket from his old team that Seifer was wearing had been embroidered
with his last name. Still, that didn't explain...
"Our track coach told
us about you last practice," Irvine
continued, before Seifer had a chance to ask about the revelation of his first
name. "Seifer Almasy, all-state football, all-state track and that other
hoopla I can't think of right now. So... when I spotted ya jacket I thought I'd
come over and say hi."
"Hmph."
"Well, that
and I figured I'd better keep ya from socking our ice princess. You looked like
you were about to go brawl happy on his ass."
"... Ice
princess?"
"Squall."
"What ya call him ice
princess for?" Seifer inquired curiously, not quite sure how to place that
nickname.
Oddly enough, it sounded
like something he would make up.
"Oh, you just wait
and see," Irvine
replied with a cryptic grin. "Hey dude, we better get going, class is
about to start."
"... 'Aight."
Seifer fished for his bag,
retrieving it from the back of his truck. He studied his vehicle's position for
a moment. The parking job was horrible, but at least he was somewhat in his
spot, or Squall's spot for that very matter. Anything else he really
couldn't be too bothered for.
"Hey," he said,
throwing a questioning glance at Irvine,
who stared back at him keenly. "You happen to know where Kramer's Math 4
is held at?"
"Edea Kramer?"
the cowboy lilted and his eyes lit up with something that Seifer could only
define as utter bliss. "She's like, such a babe! Man!"
Seifer snorted, following Irvine past crowds of
other students and sweetly scented cherry trees to the main school building.
"That's not what I
asked, Casanova."
"Oh... right,"
the other youth drawled, as if that thought had just occurred to him.
"Yeah, I know where it's at. If that's where you're headed now, you're in
my class."
"Right on."
"Yeah. Let's hurry."
And thus was Seifer
Almasy's rough start into a school year that would be filled with soaring highs
and abysmal lows and that would, above all things, change his life forever.
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Whispered Screams