Adult-FanFiction.org : Final Fantasy

My Mother, Thats Who I mean	By : Resting-Madness Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male > Irvine/Squall Views: 786 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the Final Fantasy VIII universe not characters or places, nor the fandom itself. or the Espers mentioned from Final Fantasy VI and I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Kait felt his senses wake up. He thanked Hyne for that, and the life of him he kept his eyes closed, not knowing what would come should he open them. But his heart is pounding so fiercely within his chest that he's sure it shaking his body to the point of movement to give himself away. He's moving, though, not on his own. It feels like when he and his dads, and Zell, took the trolley through Deling city. Trams feel different to a car. Trams rumble smoothly yet violently at some points. Cars just bustle along feeling nothing without it being large enough to matter.
They'd gone camping once, and his fathers were telling him tales of their cadet days, missions they've gone on. Squall was held hostage once in a mini-trailer, and he'd talked about how he found out whether or not he was alone in the backseat. He'd let out a small groan. Not the sound you make when you're in pain, but like when you're asleep and you're trying to catch a breath so the sound is accidental. If someone was in the room, they'd instantly talk to you - its human nature. If you're alone, than it would be silent.
But he wouldn't even know if any sound came from his dry throat. His heart is beating so hard it's all his little ears can hear. Shooting air from his trembling chest, he made a sound that came out like someone pushed him suddenly without his knowing it would happen. Silence. Slowly, through a flutter, his eyes blink open.
Looking around he sees that he is, in fact, alone. Letting out a calming breath, he's displeased to know that it did him no good on either end because he's still frightened, still confused, and still... He's still gonna cry. How had this happened? Why did it happen?
'I was at school...' He thinks while trying to steady his nerves.
This was no time to remain panicked. No time to remain powerless in his captivity. He's been taught better than this, and if he's going to be a valid member of Balamb or Galbadia Garden then he will have to man-up.
'I was talking to Ms. Mara when she reached into her bag. She didn't hit me,' He touches his head all around to ensure he doesn't have any bumps or bruises. He's good. 'So then what? ...She had... She had a cloth. It smelled funny... and she pressed it to my face before I could back up.' He didn't like the idea of being poisoned, but he felt fine for the most part. Groggy at worse.
Looking around him he sits up. He's never been in a car like this. It isn't a car.. its more like a compartment. Sort of like the thing Seifer attaches to his bike whenever he gives him rides. Only difference is that its completely covered over, like a dome or an egg.
'What is this thing?' He wonders.
In all his eight years of living he's never come across a dome; living in a small town he hasn't even been in a car very often, walking is the better choice of the locals, or biking and skateboarding. Only outsiders show up in cars. There's been a whole parking lot built for them beside the dealership and everything - you have to pay a fee after 2 days, to keep it there.
Snapping his fingers as it comes to him, he excitedly declared to himself. 'It's a camper!' Though a very small camper. Maybe two tiny people could fit inside, but no one else. If two people were inside there certainly would be no room to move around much besides slipping from the front of it to the back.
Getting into a kneeling position, he crawls to the bottom of the camper and grabs a bottle of water from a little compartment in the wall. It's covered by a glass door to show off its goods. None of the bottles have been pre-opened which is a good thing because Irvine once said: "Never drink something you didn't open yourself, or have opened for you by someone you know"; when they were out to eat.
He was six then, and wasn't sure what it meant at the time. But now he knows it was because of poison. And Ms. Mara could pull anything, if she was willing to make him sniff something that knocked him out.
Drinking greedily from the mouth of the bottle, he ran a hand across his lips to remove the spill, he capped the drink and set it back inside with the other bottles. 'Now to figure out where I am... And how I can contact Squall.'
They must be a in frenzy looking for him. He hoped they weren't mad; it wasn't like he'd meant to talk to his mother. It just sort of happened. And if you can't feel safe with a pile of people around you than what's the good of innocence? Cocking his head when he noticed a small window beside him, he sees that it's dark. It's a weird kind of dark though, just like how his gentle swaying movements are man-made, this darkness seems false. Artificial. Like when you go under a tunnel.
'A tunnel! We must be in the train tunnel.'
There's a large outcropping inside the tunnel as if you could wait around for a train inside like the subways in Deling. Moving over to the small circle window, he grabs at it. A grin spread across his face when the pane slipped open. But, what now? He couldn't slip out of it, and even if he could the landing would not be welcomed. He might even get seriously injured. Plan B time. Patting himself down for something familiar he could throw out, he frowned heavily taking notice that he's wearing his school uniform.
"Damn." What? If there were ever a time to drop a swear, it was now. He'd just owe the jar one.
It was the jiggling compartment that he noticed something softly tickling his chest. It's a familiar feeling; he's gotten used to not scratching himself when it occurs. Hyne he could squeezed Zell so tightly it would break him. His cat's eye necklace! When Zell made it, he carved into it a 'K' for Kait of course, in-case he ever lost it and someone tried to take claims. But he loves his necklace, and losing it would really suck. However, if it helps his family and friends find him, then so be it.
Removing the necklace, he closed his eyes praying to Hyne that the favored trinket find its mark before he stuck his arm out of the window slinging it into the winds current in the dark tunnel. Sitting back on his haunches, he sighed. Nothing left to do now but wait it out. Wait for the vehicle stop moving so he can fight his way free, or wait for them to reach their destination so he can be found.
Why did Mara have to find him? Why keep looking for a child who knew nothing about your existence up to now? Why hope for the best scenario that he's been searching too rather then believe he's better off? He had to scratch his head as these thoughts rummaged around his brain so forceful it felt ticklish.
Spotting some candy beside the bottles of water, his mouth watered. He would have liked to have some but he couldn't risk it, in fact... Crawling back over to the cabinet that held the water, he pulled the bottle out and replaced it behind an unopened bottle. He doesn't know what will happen if she catches that he's awake, better hide the evidence as no one would really question the bottles in back if the ones in front remain looking as if undisturbed.
You'd think he was psychic with the way the hum of the motorcycle died down when daylight broke through the tiny circular window. Panicked, he didn't allow himself to be too spooked as he closed his eyes when falling back down onto the little bed. The little camper soon opened up just above his head, and he remained perfectly still pretending to be asleep. 'Let it work, let it work...' He chanted over and over in his head.
The camper dipped, and he heard the door close before a pair of arms wrapped securely around him. He was drawn into the woman like one would embrace a teddy bear. Great.
"Goodnight, angel." She whispered against the back of his head before kissing it and falling, eventually, asleep.
# #
Squall walked somberly along the beach, sand sinking his toes down into it. He hated this damned feeling of being neglected. It felt too familiar with his childhood. Irvine could do that to him, as the sharpshooter has become all too used to being alone. Sure he's had friends at Galbadia, but he more often than not strayed from them, preferring to keep to himself. With Irvine, it was have what he wanted or have nothing at all.
Squall understood that - somewhat. 'Better safe than sorry'. 'Pick the times, don't let them pick you'. It was something along the lines of choosing your battles, the latter thought. You could fight til you bleed, but what would it be worth in the end? Nothing. Because you wind up being the one dumped. Left behind, when they start to believe you don't care or you, yourself, have just stopped.
In all honesty, a lot of people would rather hurt themselves than hurt others; that's what this leaving in the middle of the night act is all 's the nature of Irvine's beast. The key to learning to live with him - love him. Irvine needs people, but the moment he doesn't... he walks. A loner true and through.
But this was too much. Because for the all the bad-ass façade that Squall put up in life, he ultimately needs people. Leonhart pushed them away in the past, sometimes in the present, yet, the people he wanted close sense that he is full of shit in his detached nature, and they stay by his side. He appreciates it. Squall needs people because he's had people taken away from him. He's forgotten about them.
He can't have that anymore. He realized this when it came to Laguna - albeit, a bit too late. But all the same the man is his father, and he acknowledges that wholly now. So when hearing the living room door close behind his partner Squall found his way outside and down to the beach, still in his pajamas, minus footwear. It was a comfortable, though slightly muggy night. Perfect for shouting out your problems to the sea for it to swallow up.
Squall slept his son's bedroom, but he wasn't exactly sleeping. The room, duh, smelled like Kait. It felt like Kait. He just couldn't escape wanting to be in there though. Wanting that one night he would wake up and see that twisted crop of waves peeking up from beneath the blanket beside him. Irvine, rather than join him to wallow so openly in his sorrows, chose leaving the house as his fix.
He probably had the right idea. Squall thought. Why put yourself in a worse place when you don't have to? That was the nature of his beast. Squall liked to press how much he could endure his own personal Hells. It's why he ran off alone when Rinoa was in that coma so many years ago. It's why he hasn't told Seifer to fuck off to a permanent degree. Why he stupidly thought that he could take on Edea alone that time at the parade. He didn't have to suffer so much torment in prison, but he just couldn't help himself.
Perhaps he felt he deserved it somehow. It was hard to say really. Some people are just born that way.
Taking a seat behind Irvine, he leaned against the taller male's back, resting the back of his head against his shoulder. Unsure of what he wanted to say, he figured he'd just let his mouth do the talking, and everything would be plain and clear. No thinking it through, or holding back because he loves the sharpshooter too much to really drive a nail into him. Not that he ever intentionally wanted to. But as he thought on his way down here, it was too much.
"Stop it..." He felt Irvine shift against him. Seeing as how the sulking Galbadian wasn't going to question what it was that Squall wanted him to stop, he went on. "Stop coming out here to brood... Stop coming out here to be alone... And stop coming out here to smoke."
That seemed to get Irvine's attention, and he turned his head slightly to see what little of Squall he could see at his shoulder. "So you know about that?"
"Hn. I've been with Seifer, half - if not - all of my life practically. I know what he smells like when he smokes. I remember what he smelled like when he'd started, to how he smells now that he's moved on to unfiltered... So just fucking stop. I don't wanna think about him when I'm kissing you."
Irvine huffed a laugh. "Noted."
They sat in silence, staring at the sky. Or Irvine, out across the ocean of dark rolling waves.
"I keep trying to convince myself he'll come back - not to worry and..."
Irvine cut him off, not about to let him continue deluding himself. "He's not in there, darlin'... He hasn't been in there for a week." Closing his light dual-colored eyes, he says in a soft voice. "No matter how many times you sleep in there, no matter how many mornings you wake up feeling his presence... He isn't going to be there."
Squall was silent, letting that sting sink in before he finally, nearly mouthed it, it was so quietly spoken. "I know."
"But still we mourn, right?" Irvine sighed heavily.
"Mourn?"
"That's what you think I'm down here doin', right?"
Squall remained silent to that question.
"Thought so." Irvine chided. He had to call Squall on his unfunny comment.
"Why does it feel like there's something underlying to that retort?" Squall questioned.
"I can tell, pardner... When you storm around in the morning, or overkill closing a cabinet door, or chopping vegetables for dinner or whatever. You think I've stopped caring."
"Haven't you?" No sense in denying it since it's all out there now. The smoking. Squall's secret disappointment in him. Nothing like airing grievances in the middle of the fucking night.
"No." Came a tight reply. "I'm just being watchful - hopeful."
"Hope is bullshit!" Squall snapped, head turned a bit to try seeing Irvine's face. He had yet to move from the chest-to-knees position he's put himself in since locating him. "It only paralyzes you to a truth, and in this case the truth is wrong. Kait will be found... There's no need to hope for something like that. She's just one damned woman... She can't hide forever."
"It's been a week. Everywhere we go, everything we do... nothing's changed. They're off the radar."
Glaring at the land spread out in his viewpoint, Squall can remember not last month, or the one before when they shared the same view of dark water, and mountain, and that sky that opened up to a new day right before their eyes. Now look at them, half the time Squall wants to scream at Irvine, and he's sure Irvine wants to do the same. Yet.. he could not help himself, and replies with a stern and angry tone.
"Fuck a week, and fuck you."
"And there it is," Irvine scoffed. "Squall, this may come as a surprise to you, but I've been cut deeply by this. I loved that little guy from the bottom of my heart from the start, and then I'm missing and damned if coming into your lives now hasn't been - and almost remains - odd... So. Fuck. You."
Finding that statement as odd, Squall could only ask. "What?"
"You've brought me in - that's a given. You've missed me and love me, just as I love you... But not into the family. Kait is your son, and you've discretely been making that clear over the past four years... Little outburst, undermines... The whole lot."
Shaking his head was all he could do right then, because he had nothing to say. Because honestly, it was kind of true. The last name, though hyphened, is ultimately Leonhart as far as legality goes. Squall does seem to have final say in this and that in the boy's life, or school papers and things like that... Wrong as it sounds, though its true, he never meant for it to come off as it has.
"Keep it to yourself until you explode." Muttered the guilty party member.
A fine line the two of them seem to walk a lot when it comes down to the nitty-gritty. But it's only ever been because they don't want to make waves with problematic topics, or questions they may have for the other. Ironic to a fault because holding it until they explode causes just that.
"Yeah, and because of that I have a hard time telling you what you need to know, rather than what you wanna hear. You take everything the wrong way."
"No. You don't tell me because you're a coward." Squall retorted, perhaps a little harsher than he needed to.
But dammit, Irvine can get under his skin like nobody else sometimes. Maybe he was right, and everyone else felt the same way. They talk to him through dancing around what they really wanna say. Fuck.
"Look, I'm sorry about that - I am. But you don't make it any easier."
"Me?"
"Try as you might to deny it you don't wanna hear a lot of things. You don't wanna face them. That's what the disappearing act is all about. Why you blow up when it's shoved in your face. That's why you shut up about Imari. Imari is there somewhere inside of you. Smoking, and carving wooden things is proof of that." He didn't mention the archory. It went without saying. More chips in the: you've changed pile.
"I won't smoke anymore, but dammit, carving those little statues calms me down. I... I need it. It brings in money from something other than having blood on my hands."
And that was the weight of it, wasn't it. Irvine had never mentioned caring, or even showed that he cared who he was pointed out to kill - except for Matron. Squall had never cared. A job was a job. But does Irvine really care? He who pointed at his headmaster and pretended to shoot him in the back?
Irvine sighed. "It's like an underlying nausea, Imari; I wasn't him but he's left inside my brain, y'know? I don't know what to do about it, so I ignore it. That's all I can offer. I don't walk around missing his life because I never lived it - not entirely. His knowledges, his life... it's all just up there like some weird dream I can't get out of my head."
Shaking his head as if to confirm that Imari is stuck in tight to some webbing that won't yield. It can't dislodge.
"But that's a damned small excuse now, isn't it? I don't mind my job as a SeeD member, watching over the the group while they get the job done... It's security. I don't even mind being a hired gun... I'd just like for there to be more out there for me when the day comes that I have to give it all up."
"I'm sorry." His voice was small just then because, as before, Irvine was right. It was a small excuse, and in all honesty... he couldn't explain himself without sounding - what? Paranoid? Possesive? And what did he want in the end of it all? ...His family.
"It's not your fault." Irvine went on, pressumably with his first comment on Imari. "But you can't make it your problem either, darlin'. I'm me, you have to believe that. No matter what new quirks I have - you've got some too. I didn't look at you once nine or some years back when you started making changes. You felt better, and there wasn't anything in this world that would make me say: "What happened to you being a tight-lipped prick?" I deserve the same curtesy."
"You're right." Squall agreed.
He has Irvine back. It's what he's wanted the entire four years the cocky sharpshooter has been missing. He hates that he's covered over that conclusion with the fact that he tends to nit-pick. Like by dwelling on Imari's qualities over Irvine's. They both suffer of being cast away by the ones they love most. Maybe that's where it stems from with Kait.
He doesn't mean to own the boy, as if Irvine doesn't matter. He's just afraid that Irvine will replace him in their son's rank of importance. He may be Kait's father, he may have been with him all his life, but Irvine is just a wonder. Magnetic. And you're drawn to him in some way. He can't compete with that, so why compete at all? Just remove him from the 'family' equation and everything will be fine. Damn it.
As if reading Squall's mind, as it often seemed Irvine could, the sharpshooter nodded and said softly. "Thank you."
"For?" Though he knew.
"Answering. I wanna share love Squall, not take it - especially from you. Kait's our child... All I ask from that is that you allow me to feel it. Let my existence be counted."
Lowering his hand to the sand, he took Irvine's into his own. Even if he's the sorce of distress at the moment, he still reaches to him for comfort. Like when they were children. "Okay." He chuckled softly. "If you'll allow me some slip-ups now and then?"
Snickering as well, and it felt good to laugh, however slight. This past week has been hectic and hell. They both need this. "Okay."
"Thank you."
"Mm." He intoned thoughtfully. "So, what do we do now?"
# #
Selphie's short legs wrap around Sergy's hips bringing him closer to her; her head thrown back she moans, and leans into his lips which are kissing and nipping at her exposed neck.
It was so weird, they had been searching for Kait nearly all night, once in a while they would pass Squall or Irvine or Zell; Rinoa and Quistis are still in Timber and Dollet searching. Kiros and Ward are scowering Esthar for the missing child and the police, well, they said they'd keep an eye out, phonelines open, but they didn't make it a large priority. To them Kait has merely returned to his mother, and its just in their eyes since the child was never officially put up for adoption.
The whole matter was a kick to the nuts, and it sucked because in a way the police are right. But at the same time, they don't know anything about Mara Trejo - not really. Records show she's been working at a market in Rodenite in Galbadian Plains, and she has a cat that was rescued from a kennel. Her parents are both deceased and she lives on her own. Plain-Jane to a T.
Sergy drove in harder at the girl's whispered command. He wanted to be sweet about it, make it memorable for her since it is Selphie's first time. He's had sex only twice before. He was serious about a girl who left, and said breaking up was the better option, he'd disagreed but she didn't care and she left. Simple as that. But Selphie gave herself away the moment her breath hitched from his kissing her neck.
They'd only been making out, it seemed a good enough distraction from another uneventful day of searching. He'd only meant to lavish her neck and face, but she took it there and leaned back on the couch, and nodded the 'go ahead'. Its universal. Everyone understands 'The nod'. And he'd been cautious of a change-of-heart. Gentle. He made sure to use protection - he bought a pack for just in-case someday they might explore their budding relationship towards intimacy.
He eased her into it. Fingers first, tongue, until she was begging him to get on with it. And get on with it, he did. She took it like a pro. It really didn't seem to hurt her, he wondered if he'd been mistaken about believing her to be a virgin but there was no mistaking that breach of a person's inner sanctum.
The room filled then with pleasent sounds of moans and sighs, pants and whimpers from the both of them. He was madly in love with the way Selphie's breath tickled his neck when she'd chuckled into it a few times. He didn't wonder what was the joke, because being around the girl for a week he found that she laughed whenever something was cute, enjoyable, or odd. Never once at anything that was actually funny. Third day of knowing the girl he had to wonder about that. However, he didn't question it, because it was kind of endearing in its own strange way.
The air was lust-filled; passionate; and by the thirty mark on the hour, the spunky girl was striving for more begging that he do it harder; wanting no part of the appreciating hands that toured her slender body anywhere they could reach. She wanted hands to shoulder, deep-seeded fucking, and there was no turning her down. Her chest heaved up and down against his own as their ragged breaths whirled together like a blast of Aero that couldn't decide to go left or right to really build up a good tornado.
Selphie thought she'd meet her end when he finally began to work like she wanted him to, but the deep pulsating thrusting didn't - and couldn't - compare with the way Sergy worked the pad of his thumb in a swirl around and around on the soft fleshy bundle of her sex. Heels dug deep into her lover's lower back, she arched from the couch crying out in pleasure as it shook her like someone cast Quake and she'd forgotten her float. Though with the way her mind was flying, maybe the quake was just so affective that being elevated didn't matter in the least.
She felt his heat inside of her, covered as it was by protection, the heat was still ravishing and quite noticable through the cover. Panting, sweaty, and calming down, Selphie chuckled, the laughter being followed along by her lover - or possibly boyfriend, it was really hard to say. They haven't exactly been on any dates to speak of - if you wanna count looking for a missing child together a date, then they should already be picking out plate patterns.
"I'm sorry." Sergy said, after his fit of chuckles calmed. "You must think I'm a real fuck who's only after sex."
"Hahaha, and here I thought that you'd think I was a slut." She holds his cheeks within her hands. "But if you're willing to take the blame for our romp, than I'm happy to blame you." Grinning, she kissed him. "I don't think you're awful."
"And I don't think you're loose."
"Thank you." She said softly. Wrapping her arms around him so that he can't see her face, she hugged him tightly. Releasing a sigh, she pushed him so she could sit up, but she kept her arms around him as if to maintain cover over herself.
It was when he'd felt warm wet tears roll down his back that he knew something was wrong, and he asked. "What's the matter?"
Laughing, she shakes her head of matted hair. "I've just been wondering, ya know, when the day would come that - for once - I wasn't seen as someone's little sister. That's why I thanked you."
"Aaw," He rubbed her warm dewy back. "I never would have guessed you suffer of 'Little-sister Syndrome'."
"Oh, don't be smart - its the truth. Sure, I've had boyfriends," And now she's looking at him; her teary eyes restored with her usual fire. "but eventually they kiss me a little too long and, as if someone whispered in their ear "Dude it's like kissing your sister", they suddenly back off and ask if we can just be friends."
"Yikes."
"Yeah, yikes... it can make a girl feel really untouchable." She frowned.
The act was so cute that Sergy had to kiss her pouted lips. "Well, we're past that point of curiousity, aren't we?" He kissed her neck.
"Mhmm, and nothing left to do now but ask if we're boyfriend and girlfriend?" Her big green eyes met his own with hopeful plead.
Yeah. He can definitely see where the L.S.S. comes from when guys date Selphie. She's a chipmonk! But he wasn't about to let himself be overtaken by the very overwhelmingly odd sensation to protect the girl from harm, or beat down any other suiters. He's read the newpapers and such, Selphie is no little lady. She's a little beast, and her cute face only adds to it, because you look at her and think 'push over'.
Smiling, he nods. "Yeah. I'd say we're boyfriend and girlfriend... if not, I'm a real dick and you're a slut." He winked at her.
Laughing, she slapped a hand to his bare chest and got up from the couch. "You suck. I'm gonna shower and sleep. We're starting bright and early to search for Kait. We may very well have to go to Winhill to look for him."
She sounded like it's an island away. That crazy little SeeD will be the death of him if he stays with her. For some reason, he can't help but smile about having a feature with her, no matter the outcome.
# #
"I'm not out here mourning." Irvine declared softly.
He's lying on his side, elbow bent with his head propped into his hand; his free hand is running through Squall's choppy bangs. The brooding brunet is laying on the sand beside the sharpshooter in the same pose. "I'm sort of, like, wishing."
"Wishing?" He closed his eyes to Irvine's gentle touches.
"Yeah. I wish every time I come out here that tomorrow be the day we find him or, the next day, or the next day." Lowering his arm, he lies on his back. "No harm in that."
"No."
They're silent for a moment, drinking in the sounds of the surf and the night bugs playing their steady rhythm of song in bug dialect.
"We just have to keep in mind that Mara is his birth-mother, and that she won't harm him."
"She's harming him now by pouring it on so damned thick." Squall spat back. "She saw that he was fine; she must have noticed that he's happy... and yet, she took him anyway. What kind of person does that?"
"And if we caught up to them... months, maybe years from now, and we find that Kait's happy..." He didn't have to finish the hypathetical question, because Squall swiftly answered.
"We'd take him back." He said with such conviction he could tell Irvine winced, not for himself but for the woman the tone was brought out for.
Irvine nodded. He knew it would be his partner's response. Squall is driven, he'll give him that. But he can't always make up his own rules while the rest of the world is put into a box. He himself would want their son back, but if Kait were happy... if he wanted to try making it work with Kait's mother. The embittered gunman could do nothing but wish the boy well. But there would be no convincing Squall of this. He really was wishing, though. And hopefully a clue will be given to them, or a sign would present itself before anything does happen. But it won't, right? She's his mother.
Squall smiled at his partner's thoughtful face, removing a hand from beneath his head he reached out touching the long strads that frame his handsome face. Its so warm outside this morning it looked as if Irvine had taken a shower but had yet to dry his hair, which he now noticed was free from its usual ponytail.
Cocking his head, Squall studied the silent sniper as if for the first time since his return 4 years back. Damn but he's beautiful. His naturally tanned Galbadian skin, his walnut colored hair, those impossibly Tiffany-blue colored irises. His ghostly touch moves down along Irvine's neck to his pajama shirt covered shoulder.
He'd gotten more muscle over the years from whatever it was the Shumi tribe had him doing. Squall never understood compliments, not real ones that weren't intended to swoon you into bed. As sincere as his partner could be about them, if he doesn't see it in himself, he doesn't believe it. But looking at Irvine now, damn it if he's not inclined to voice his admiration.
Somehow it felt bigger than a need to compliment, it felt like something else. He's felt this before, this weird bubbling inside his chest to say something from deep inside of himself. Something he never thought would ever come out. But maybe that's what this is about, this feeling of wanting something... to tell Irvine something.
Lips parted, he'd meant to say it, hoping something legiable would come out. But Irvine did the strangest thing; he winked at him before linking their fingers together. Squall felt a flutter in his chest when Irvine kissed his finger. Specifically it was his ring finger, on his left hand. His boyfriend sat up and kissed him on those thoughtful lips, chaste but filled with a love that had nothing to do with lust. Moving back he remained within kissing distance, the proximity was so intimate Squall felt the need to cover up beneath that deep gaze that appeared almost black by the lightly tinted atmosphere around them.
"Squall, can we live like this forever?" He asked softly, giving his partner's hand a squeeze to emphasize the this he meant.
And there it was... Irvine knew. Pulling that almost pyschic thing again. Or maybe, he just knows him too damned well. But he knew the meaning behind those strangling feelings. He knows the reason behind the voice of those quiet words.
Squall looked into Irvine's darkened over gaze, and he wondered for a moment if that was what it is? The overwhelming feeling. The nag. Never one to easily give a response to anyone other than himself, Squall says softly. "When we get Kait back, I'll answer you."
# #
Kait raised his finger up to the fogged glass. He drew a chocobo in it, and watched with bored interest as the interrupted frosty mist ran down the glass. Its been a week now. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take being walled up inside this little cabin. It's not a bad place, and he was sure that if he ever wanted to go on a ski trip that he and his family, and their friends, would be staying in a place similar to this one.
Its a big cabin. Expansive with a high beam ceiling, solid wood floors and walls. He thought they'd be made of stacked logs like he's seen in camping magazines, but these were planked together kind of like the floorboards. The kitchen is an open layout, and it looks directly into the living room where a large wood-frame couch is placed. It's made comfortable by three large white cushions on the seat and along the back, with one arm chair designed just like the couch, and a coffee table, side tables - even the lamp! He's never seen so much wood in his life. He was surprised that the appliences weren't made of wood. It has two bedrooms and a bathroom, through the master bedroom.
Every bath, since arriving, he's put his mouth beneath the water making angry bubbles in the water while saying streams of curses. He doesn't wanna take a bath, and he isn't too fond of taking a shower. When Mara decided that he wasn't getting clean enough, she actually said she would wash him! What the hell was that all about? Then she muttered something about his dads being incompetent for not teaching him that he has to clean himself; the word 'perverts' came out every other minute about them.
But before he could slam her block-head into the polished wooden floor, he told her through grit teeth that he could wash himself. He had to calm down and realize the situation for what it was. His mother kidnapped him, sure, but that's only because she misses him. Never even got to know him.
She won't hurt him. She hates his parents because she believes they're at fault for his not liking her. Understandable. But with all this time in her company, he should be making her see just how wrong she is about them - and his life. Otherwise, she'll go on believing who knows what about them. That would not be good.
He knows that he'll be found, just not the when. In the meantime, he has to sway her opinion about his life with Squall and Irvine. But damn, she hard to talk to. Dismissive even. People are always using that towards kids, but it's the adults who are dismissive. They are the ones who need to hear "grow up" the most.
Aside from the slander of his dads, and a few comments about how thin he is, and that she doesn't like his earrings, things aren't so bad. She cooks really good, and she tells him stories - granted the stories are rather boring, since she mostly tells him about her and his birth-father, Martin, but sometimes she asks him about things. Safe topics: school, homework, friends. She called him personable, like his father. He completely agreed, because he's all Irvine when it comes to making friends and being social.
But he knew that she was talking about Martin. He wished he had Samba to at least keep him company at night, hold back his tears, and remind him that he's a lion inside... Even if he's a Chocobo on the outside.
She had asked him about his nickname, and he told her that he loved those big burly birds, and the name just kind of stuck from when he was two. He even had a bouncy chocobo to ride once upon a time. He loved to play Cowboy Kait, he'd recruit his hero anytime he needed help on a mission. He also mentioned that he likes his nickname, but only people very close to him can use it. Meaning she was out. But he didn't add that part. No need to upset her, she was upset enough to last her her whole life, he'd bet. So for the most part, he was dealing. Which is why he's sitting by the window now, drawing pictures on the glass, bored to tears. At least he's not cold.
He knows that they're somewhere North, maybe close to Trabia Garden, or Selphie's hometown Glacial Point. But wherever they are, it has to be close to a town because when Mara goes shopping she's back in like fifteen minutes. Hardly enough time to set an elaborate escape plan into play. And where would he go once he's gotten out? She'd planned this all out very well.
At least the cabin has a heater and a gas burning fire to keep him warm. He had a jacket bought for him, earmuffs and gloves, and the sizes are just right. Regardless, he's getting the sniffles being out here. He never did have a good cold tolerance.
"Miles," Mara called as she entered the home; she'd been out buying matches.
Oh, and there of course was the fact that he had to answer to a name that isn't his own. Also agitating.
"I thought since the weather has cleared up, maybe you and I can go skiing."
That perked him up. "Yeah, could we?"
"Sure! Then we can come back in and drink cocoa, and maybe listen to the radio." She beamed from his enthusiasm. "Do you like those old tales told over the radio?"
"I've never heard any before." He was walking through the living room at this point to grab his cover-ups. Watching out for his earrings sticking into the yarn as he pulled on his knit cap.
"They're wonderful, you'll love it." She dropped the matchbook onto the gleaming granit bar counter top.
"Okay. Can we roast hot dogs in the fireplace?" He asked, knowing she would have to go into town for them, and maybe she'd take him with her. If someone would see him, maybe they'd get word back to his family and friends.
"That sounds wonderful."
He smiled. Someone was in a good mood. He hoped it didn't have anything to do with her getting-away-with-it, so to speak. "I'm ready." He announced.
Taking his hand she led him outside. He hasn't been out of the cabin farther than his vision could go out the glass window. Its a winter wonderland, with snowcapped pine trees are peppered here and there. The sky is completely whitish grey reflecting the splender of the land. Flecks of crystal-like snow floated like dust through the air when the wind blew it. Amazing.
The two walked to a steep hill; Mara dragging a sled behind her. It has a logo on it that read: Thee Lift sporting goods. He twist his mouth back and forth in wonder of where the store could be from. He's never heard of any other places out in this area. Mostly because he hasn't taken world tests yet. They're still learning about trades and things between lands at school. But a logo like that could only mean that there was a local touristy place around them somewhere. If he could get there, he could get to a phone and call home. His cellphone is still in his backpack, which may or may not still be at school.
"I hate the cold, I hate the cold." Mara chanted while climbing the hill.
She sounded so comical in tone, Kait had to laugh. He could bet that she was nice once... y'know, until she turned completely kidnapper nuts. "My aunt Selphie loves the cold - can you believe she wears skirts in the winter?"
"Oh, lovely." Mara chattered with a laugh.
Chuckling Kait rubbed her back to offer some kind of warmth. "Well, you can blame yourself, you brought us here."
"We're not staying. This is just a detour before I bring you home with me to Rodenite."
'Rodenite? My other grandpa lives there! I've never met him before, but I know where he lives - and even his phone number. He'd help me for sure! But I don't know when we're leaving.' He stole a glance at the woman as if he might be able to read it on her face.
"We're at the top. Now..." Giving him a little tap with her elbow she says. "You go first."
"Not me! You go." He nudged her back playfully.
"You're better at it, kids always do this sort of stuff."
"Not this kid, I'm a land and water baby."
Laughing with full-on joy in her tone she declared. "Oh, you're lucky your father isn't here. One of me is enough, he could never handle two of us - chickens until we get the right shove."
"The right shove, huh?" He grinned slyly. "I'll bet you a race to town, I'll go down that hill on my stomach."
"Oh you would not." She sounded so sure.
"I would." He puffed up his chest as if he had the might to back up his words.
"A race to town? Hmm... alright, I call your bluff young Chocobo. Belly-flop down the slope." Hand held out, she nods when he shakes it.
"And here I go... one..." He rocked on his heels. Was he really gonna do this? "Two..."
"Oooh and he stalls." She laughed.
"Uh-uh! I just need a minute to straighten myself out." Pretending to adjust his coat, he says to himself. "You look great, you're invincible." It made Mara laugh all the more.
"Go on chicken. And tell you what, if you do this, we'll have dinner in town. I'll buy you hot fudge sundae."
"Lady, you only had to say chocolate." Arms straight out, he bent down and let himself go down the hill.
"Miles! Be careful!" She called out as the itty-bitty child went head first down the long slope. When he came to a stop at he bottom, she hurried down the hill, slipping a bit with each hurried step.
Laughing, he rolled over onto his back. "Mara, you gotta try that. It was awesome!" He cried out before continuing in his fit of chuckles.
She laughed merrily herself watching him waddle back and forth like a turtle on its back. "Oh not me." She pulled him up, brushing the snow from his wet goosedown jacket. "I don't look so good, and I'm not invincible." She said, quoting him through opposite.
"Well, you look plenty good to me." He smiled.
Smiling, she replied with her best improvised Trabian accent. "Why thank you, da'ling."
"You're quite welcome." He replied with his nose in the air like a high-society type. "Come on, we'll slide down together on the sled."
"Okay."
The two start back up the hill ready for round two. It went on like that for a good while, until both native Galbadians were ready to burn the snow away with flame throwers. They shivered back into the cabin, but Mara only wanted to return to lock up. As agreed, they were going into town today. What could happen this far out?
- 11
- 12
- 13
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

My Mother, Thats Who I mean