Lightning. | By : KittyMeowMaxwell Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 669 -:- 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. |
Kitty: Hope
everyone had a really good Christmas! Irvine and Zell
sure did! -waggles brows-
Eoko:
XD, yeppers! And so did, well, most of the KH2 group
too.
Kitty: Yeah!
XD Woo for yaoi!
Eoko:
And I bought a Pink DS Lite and Nintendogs.
I have a chihuahua named Chikita.
Kitty: You
should have called it Rodicia!
Eoko:
I'll prolly end up buying you one and you can call
yours Rodicia
Kitty: I
have a job now! I can buy my own soon! :P
Eoko:
It's very entertaining actually.
Kitty: ...A
big Tongan man just walked past with a pram... So cute!
Eoko:
A what sort of man?
Kitty: Tongan.
From Tonga...
Eoko:
Where's Tonga?
Kitty: I...
don't know... It's an island somewhere.
Eoko:
Maybe we should stop thinking about geography and let them read?
Kitty: Yes!
ON WITH THE FIC!
Chapter, The
Fifty-Fourth: In Which Zell Bleeds.
The night of the Christmas-New Years party
had caused more problems in Zell’s mind than he knew
what to do with. Initially it had just
been the difficulty of leaving both his lovers unsatisfied. He never left anyone unsatisfied if he
could help it, and he really felt that he could have done something
more. But, in the end he always came to
the conclusion that his choice had been the right one.
But it was more than just that night. Was he paying enough attention to his two
lovers? Did they feel at all
neglected? He knew in an ideal world
neither of them would be sharing, so there had to be some part of them that
wasn’t completely satisfied with the situation.
That upset him. No matter what he did it could always, always
be better. He hated that sometimes he
had to leave one lover to make sure the other was happy, getting the time they
deserved.
More things came after that. Was he talking to them enough? If he asked them what more he could do would
they tell him or play it off? How did
they feel when he showered after he was with them? On one hand they must have appreciated the
fact that they didn’t have to be reminded that they weren’t the only person he
loved. But… what did they feel when
after sufficient cuddle-time he went to shower for the purpose of
ridding his body of the smell of his lover?
It had to hurt. Zell knew that it
would hurt him to see Seifer or Irvine leave his side
to get rid of his scent on their skin, or rinse out their mouth… it felt awful
just thinking about it.
Zell hung his head, pressed his face into the palms of his hands and
made an exasperated sound as he collapsed from his pacing into a chair. “What am I going to do…?” he practically
whined into the room. Everything seemed
fine before. Now it was all coming
crashing down around him. Fucking party…
He wanted them both to be
happy. He wouldn’t leave either. Never. He couldn’t.
But it wasn’t working anymore. It
was painful to admit he wasn’t good enough, but that’s what it seemed to come
down to. Even if they kept it up and
took turns on special occasions… Seifer on his
birthday, Irvine on Christmas, Seifer New Years,
Irvine Valentine’s- it couldn’t work!
It wasn’t fair for either of them to be alone on any of
those days. They didn’t deserve to be
alone on any day whatsoever!
“What can I do?!” he screamed, hands coming
away from his face as he threw himself out of his chair and at his punching bag
once more. At the rate he was going he’d
need a vacuum cleaner and a trip to the sports superstore in Deling. Maybe a
custom one would last more that six months, or a week if he kept this up.
- - -
It was some four hours later that a pair of
tall young men knocked on the fighter’s door. Said fighter had had plans with Seifer, and he hadn’t shown up. Seifer, being who
he was, went to make sure Zell was not ditching him
for a certain cowboy. When that tan
wearing cowboy assured the blond that he hadn’t seen Zell
either the two made a very short, silent, truce and started looking.
When there was no answer Irvine looked to Seifer. “Are you
sure we didn’t just miss him when we were lookin’?”
he asked, lifting his hat from his head to run his fingers through his hair.
“No,” Seifer said
shortly. “First, we weren’t looking
together, so if one of us missed him, the other wouldn’t, second, no one’s seen
him for quite a while, and the last place people did remember seeing him was heading to his dorm.”
“Alright, alright, you, like, proved your
point, Seifer.
But then, why isn’t he answering?” the sharpshooter asked, fixing his
hat back atop his head.
Seifer didn’t dignify that question with an answer. Mostly because he tended to have a more
pessimistic outlook on life and he didn’t want to worry his lover’s lover. He wasn’t exactly sure when he’d gone from trying
to make Irvine’s life hell to making it a little easier, but whenever it had occurred,
he blamed Zell.
“Let’s just go in.”
Irvine nodded and entered the code to Zell’s room. The two
slid in as soon as the door was open enough and looked around. Everything looked right: neat, tidy,
completely Zell.
Seifer was the first of the two to see the fighter sprawled on the ground
next to his punching bag, head about an inch from his weight set. He cringed and lifted a hand to rest on
Irvine’s shoulder.
The cowboy looked at the hand, then back at
Seifer. He
followed the gunbladist’s eyes to the form on the
floor and the next thing he knew he was at Zell’s
side, cradling his head in his lap as Seifer kneeled
down next to them.
Seifer’s eyes looked over the nearest dumbbells and the shorter blond’s head for signs of blood while a hand ran down a
strong arm to check for a pulse at the wrist.
Before he could get so far, however, Zell shifted and nuzzled the side of his face into Irvine’s
thighs. The two taller boys nearly had a
heart-attack, but only Irvine looked it.
Seifer was far more skilled at stilting his
reactions.
“Mm, hello… my back hurts… why’s the bed so
hard?” Zell mumbled as he half opened his eyes and
drew the heel of one hand across them.
“You’re on the floor, not the bed, Zell,” Irvine said as he stroked his fingers through the
fighter’s hair.
Seifer wasn’t listening to the others though. His eyes were again looking over Zell and the immediate surroundings. When the tattooed boy had rubbed the sleep
from his eyes he caught a glimpse of a few red trickles coming from inside the
glove and making their way around his wrists.
They were dried, dark, and flaking now.
The tallest let his eyes slide up the
punching bag. It was already red in
color but he could still see the stains, darker against the bright material. Deep red splotches were marked all over its
surface, mostly in patterns of four small circles, though beat so many times
they almost formed two large masses.
A hand reached out for one of Zell’s and turned it over, jade eyes inspecting the back of
the glove. They weren’t Ehrgeiz, nor his Metal Knuckles
that he still used in the training center.
They were thinner, black, and for a light work out on his punching
bags. The black shone slightly in the
light when they were turned to the left and right, and not from a good oiling
either.
Seifer looked up into Zell’s eyes, then
Irvine’s, then back to the hand. The
fighter clenched his fingers a little and bit his lower lip to hold back the
cringe. The older blond didn’t catch
that, but his own theory of what lay beneath the gloves forced his hands to be
slow and careful.
When the black glove was pulled away it
brought with it dried blood which had clotted beneath it, and with that, bits
of Zell’s own skin that where attached to the tissue
that was trying to heal itself in its confines.
Irvine made a soft gasp as he looked at the
little blond’s strong, beat up hand. The knuckles were red and raw, bleeding again
from having the skin disturbed. The skin
on the back was a mixture of reds, stained by blood and darker where it had
caked and dried. His fingers were
bruised red and purple and swollen a little.
It wasn’t much if you thought about the dragon claws, the gun shots, the
blades, the fangs, the wings, and any number of other dangers he’d faced.
But these wounds weren’t from an
enemy. And these wounds weren’t caused
by one swift attack. These were from
continuous abuse, from beating hour after hour on sore, broken, bloody
skin. Seifer
knew that if it hadn’t been for the gloves Zell probably
would have beat this knuckles to the bone.
While Irvine stared and rummaged blindly in
his pocket for any level of potion at all Seifer
worked off the other glove. The hand
beneath was much like the first it not a little worse. Zell did tend to
favour his right hand and it showed in the level of damage displayed across the
back of it.
Zell didn’t like the looks he was getting from Seifer,
or the worry he could feel radiating off of Irvine. And he liked even less the inevitable
question forming on the eldest boy’s face.
“It’s nothing,” he said, just short of too quickly. It was more the fact that it was an
incredibly stupid comment that caused the gunbladist
to frown and furrow his brow.
“It’s just…” Zell
thought quickly about what he could say that was believable but not
truthful. He didn’t want to tell them
he’d done this because he couldn’t handle what was happening between them. “… Squall.
I ran into him in the hall. He
said some shit and instead of literally killing him I came back here.”
Seifer looked at him hard then nodded while Irvine combed his fingers
through fallen bangs. “I think you
should go talk to Selphie…” he said slowly as he took
the potion Irvine had finally found and carefully poured the thick liquid onto Zell’s pour hands.
It didn’t take long for the potion to work,
and when half had been used on his skin Seifer held
the bottle to his lips and tilted it back.
Zell swallowed it down and immediately felt a
bit better.
The look Seifer
gave him still made him a little uneasy.
And being told to talk to Selphie…? The bastard knew it wasn’t about
Squall. He’d scream to them about the
commander, so he had to know it was something that he wouldn’t discuss with
either of them. Stupid Seifer knowing stuff…
“Really, Seif. It’s alright.
Just a little frustrated-“
“You beat your hands bloody on that bag
until you passed out, Zell. Don’t lie to people that know you as well as
Irvine and I do. I know there are
still some things you can’t talk to me or Irvine about, or don’t think you can,
but you are not going to just take it all yourself.”
The words should have stung. They accused him of lying, or more correctly
caught him on it. But they didn’t. Seifer was just
stating the facts, probably more for his own benefit than anyone else’s. Maybe all he needed was to hear them from
someone else. He was just glad those
words didn’t cut into him and make him even more crazy.
Irvine nodded at what Seifer
had said behind his head though he could more sense than feel the slight
inclining of the cowboy’s head. “Seifer’s right. This
wasn’t some little thing. Whatever
caused this was big and you, like, can’t just hold it on your own shoulders.”
The auburn haired man pulled him up and
wrapped his arms around his lover while Seifer gently
massaged his hands with his thumbs.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence Irvine went on.
“Selphie’s helped
all of us, no matter what. She’s there
for us and she knows how to handle each one of us. Talk to her. Talk to your Ma if you have to. Whatever you say to either will be just
between them and you, and you know that.
Seifer’s right, and you’re, like, a moron for
not thinkin’ of what he said sooner.”
“Aww, come
on. Be nice. I’m injured,” Zell
joked as he pondered over the fact that Irvine had just said Seifer was right not once, but twice. His mental processes were cut short though
when Seifer squeezed his tender hands just a little
too hard.
“You have any Cure magic on you?” At the
nod he half glared. “Then use some damnit, Dincht. You have to take better care of these.” Seifer lifted the younger blond’s
hands and dipped his head to nuzzle his cheek against them. “These are your most used weapons. Not to mention all the other wonderful things
you do with them.”
Irvine tilted his head to the side at Seifer’s gentle actions towards their shared lover then
looked down to Zell when jade eyes glanced up at him
with his second little statement. He was
sure he could guess what the gunbladist was thinking,
mentioning Zell’s fingers and looking at him. A faint pink dusted his cheeks but he focused
his attention on the fighter and the warmth in his face went away.
Zell smiled warmly at both his lovers, them something registered in his
mind and he sat up quickly. “What time is it?” he asked the blond that knelt
before him. The smile that Seifer gave him, that ‘you’re a moron but I still love you’
smile, told him what he already suspected.
He’d missed his “date” with Seifer. Didn’t that just add to the most
wonderful day ever.
“I’m sorry, Seif,”
he apologized, eyes soft as he wrapped his arms around the taller blond’s neck. “I
didn’t mean to.”
“I know, Zell. I know.
Don’t worry about it.” Deep down Seifer hated missing time with Zell. He tried not to, but he found himself
mentally recording his and Irvine’s “dates”.
He couldn’t even let the cowboy one up him in that respect, and because
of this little situation that’s exactly what had happened.
“Let’s all go to dinner,” Irvine suddenly
blurted out, then blinked as jade eyes slowly lifted to his own. He’d been thinking how to word the
suggestion, just not say it right then.
He knew he couldn’t have said ‘join us for dinner’ or ‘come to dinner
with us’. Saying it that way would only
make Seifer feel like a
third wheel and angry because he’d think Irvine didn’t consider him as
deserving of Zell.
It was scary that the more he learned about and understood Zell the more he understood Seifer.
After another silence between the three, this time less comfortable, Seifer
shook his head. “No. That’s alright, cowboy. You and Zell had
plans.”
“Yea, dinner plans. Easy to have three there
instead of two. Right, Zell?” Sky blue eyes looked into startled sapphires.
“I don’t know what the hell’s happening, so
I sure as hell ain’t getting involved.” Irvine asking Seifer to dinner?
Irvine instigating a scenario in which he placed himself and Seifer in the same room together at the same time? What the fuck was going on?! Maybe he had done more damage to himself than
he’d originally thought.
“I don’t want to intrude,” Seifer ground out, his attempt at politeness ruined by his
steady glare levelled at the auburn haired man.
“I insist you come,” Irvine replied in much
the same fashion, clenching one of his hands in the back of Zell’s
shirt.
“Now, cowboy.” Seifer inclined his head to the side
slightly. “If that is what you
insist, then dinner would be a huge mistake.”
“If that is what I meant to insist,
I would not be insistin’ it from you.”
Zell’s eyes moved back and forth between the two as their conversation
went on, then burst out laughing at the sheer hilarity
of what it had turned into. When the
pair stopped glaring at each other to turn their attention toward him, his
laughter diminished. “Oh dear Hyne, that was funny.
Seifer, you heard Irvine. You’re coming to dinner. So suck it up, sweetheart.”
One of Irvine’s hands shot to his mouth to
muffle the chuckle that was escaping. Sweetheart…? Hyne… now that
is funny! “Yea… sweetheart,” he
nearly choked out. “So no more complainin’, ya hear?”
“It’s a fucking conspiracy!”
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