Convergence [1]: Broken

BY : currie
Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 752
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.

AN: I almost forgot what this fic is about! Can you imagine? It's sure not about almost dying twice within half an hour! *facepalm* Geez, Currie, you've got to stop fucking (erm, screwing? no... *messing,* that's the word) with the poor boys before they get stuck in a psych ward.

~ 12. Takeover ~


"So you're the kind who deals with the games in the mind,
Well you confuse me in a way that I've never known,
You abused me in a way that I've never known...

Fake me, break me, shake me, hate me, take me,
Break me."

-- Savage Garden "break me, shake me" (this song is simply *the sex.* It wrote this chapter, not me. Had to credit)


Seifer sat up slowly, wincing at predicted pain that never came. He watched his own hand dance over once-wounded ribs and muscles, pressed lightly between them. Squall had repaired him, but he didn't feel relieved. He didn't know how to feel at all. Too much had happened in such a short time to let him compute it.

Well, there was *one* thing he could feel-- the rage of an involuntary hard-on, induced by the euphoria of an overdose of curative magic. What the hell had Squall been thinking? He didn't need *three* Curagas. He may have looked it, but he hadn't been on his deathbed, for Hynesakes.

A rustle of nylon raised his gaze. Zell, flushed and shaky with the aftershocks of passed panic, had picked up the bunched sleeping bag that Squall had brought in and was now flattening it out on the floor, as far away from Seifer's side of the tent as he could. This still wasn't very far, of course, as their enclosure was military-issue and thus on the small side. Only about three feet of space remained between the two rectangles.

Zell continued to fuss over it once it was flattened, tugging at different corners, rushing his hands over it, sitting back and looking it over before jumping forward as if pouncing on prey to remove the offense of another minute wrinkle.

"You're stressed."

Zell jerked a little at that, but didn't pause his inspection of his bed. "No shit..."

"You always get like this when you're stressed. Cleaning, folding. Perfecting."

"Gotta--" Zell pounced again, tripped and fell onto his hands, messing up his masterpiece only to start tugging at it immediately after, "--keep busy." He didn't curse his fumble, as he was rather glad it had happened. His purpose wasn't to have a board-flat bed to sleep on, it was to engage in the very process of flattening it-- avoiding the urge to think as well as the desire to get out of there and start running in circles just to burn off energy. What he needed was his punching bag, or about eighty-five grats to pummel his way through. This was only the next best thing.

Guilt was gradually falling from his grasp now that Seifer had emerged from his injury unharmed. He had been sorry for destroying their ability to travel, for rendering Seifer completely helpless beneath a burden of pain he thought would last days. The few minutes of it that he had felt was a fair punishment for saying what he had-- in front of Squall, no less. Zell still felt shame, but it was only for allowing himself to sacrifice his logic, abandoning mental strength to let physical strength take him over in a full abandonment of the pledge he had made when entering his craft. Squall was ashamed of him too, and although that was deserved, it still hurt. It was why he couldn't go outside. "Since when are you all observant?"

"Since you began producing such obvious manifestations of your emotions." Seifer pretended to count on his fingers, "So that would be... hmm... You're nineteen, right? ... About seventeen years, then?" Zell flashed pale, angry sapphires at him for a moment before silently returning to his work. Oh, did he ever look good-- dusty-blond hair dragging across his eyes instead of in that stupid crest that only made him look to fit his unflattering nickname, still blushing like he did way too much, and fuming. Seifer bit back a comment about how hot he looked when he was angry, as it was far too cliched a phrase to ever escape his mouth no matter how true it might have been, and cursed Squall again for the relentless succession of spells he had forced into him. As difficult as it was to decipher who should feel what way, and who should apologize, if anyone, for what had just happened, he knew that this was just not the right time to think with his cock. He would have already gone out to find Squall and make him feel the effects of the passion he had forced upon him, if only the pissy brunette would quit being so... damn *pissy.* He sighed with frustration, hoping to draw some of the blood from where it throbbed in his groin by engaging in more conversation. "If only I hadn't put your gloves back on you."

Zell stopped smoothing and looked at his hands. "What d'you mean?"

"When I went out there to get food--before I not my my empty flask-- they were on the ground. You must have taken them off while you were drunk."

Zell's eyes fell shut at the sudden flashback of watching sand run between his fingers from where it sat in his palms-- his *bare* palms. "Shit..." he mumbled. Squall had likely brought them back for him.

Seifer nodded, happy with himself. "I figured you'd accuse me of stealing them if you woke up bare-handed, so I turned you over and put them back where they belonged. And you didn't even make a sound. Oh wait, yes you did, I remember-- you reached up like you were trying to hug me, needy little thing."

"Hug you? Screw that, I was half-drunk and fast asleep. Prob'ly thought you were Squall."

"You didn't *call* me 'Squall,'" Seifer replied knowingly.

Zell's closed his eyes again and fell back onto his bum. He hadn't thought the situation could get worse, and dammit, now it was. "Don't tell me I...."

"Yep." Seifer nodded slowly, only smiling a little. "You knew it was me."

"Shifuckindammit..." Zell spat haughtily, pissed off more at himself than anything. "Well even if I choose to believe you, I was still asleep and still half-drunk, so--"

"I won't hold it against you." *If I told you you've got a nice body, would you hold it against me?* Seifer mentally facepalmed at the pickup line that had run involuntarily through his mind. Damn stupid brain of his always managed to morph into pure cheezeball whenever his horniness went unsatiated. "That's why I didn't bring it up before."

Zell sputtered. "Why'd you have to bring it up at all, then?"

"Thought you'd want to know; maybe it'll give you some insight about yourself. Unhindered by conscious thought and all that."

"That doesn't explain why you 'won't hold it against me,' like you do everything else." Zell was getting quite angry again, flaring up beneath his tattoo, making fists. Looking dangerous. A great opportunity for Seifer to avoid answering his question.

"Oookay, kiddo," Seifer slid over across the floor to sit beside him, "I don't think you should have them right now, either." He took Zell's nearest hand and pulled at the lace that held the glove tight at his wrist, "Might hit me again. Don't want that."

Zell scowled, but didn't yank back. Hell, maybe Seifer was right, for once. He didn't feel nearly pissed enough to injure anyone aside from himself right now, but he had learned long ago never to trust Seifer to keep peace for long. "What, you're planning on saying something else to piss me off?"

"No, no, of course not," Seifer replied as he peeled Zell's glove from his hand. "But we both know how unpredictable you can be." Lie. Zell was the opposite, but Seifer needed an excuse for this.

"Answer my question."

*Predictable and persistant.* Seifer sighed. The lie proved useless. *Out with it,* he demanded of himself. He would have to abandon his pride right now. Just for a moment. This had to be said. He hoped Squall would be able to hear him, as he wouldn't be likely to believe either of them when they told him about the admission later. "It's... because I feel bad for what I said about Squall." He cringed as something cracked inside him, but kept talking anyway, backpedaling slightly in an attempt to save a bit of himself, "I like to bug the shit out of you, because as I say all the time, it's a damn riot... But even I know that was too much. So... I'm showing it to you this way. I think I'll give it a rest for a while."

"You *what?*"

"You heard me." Damned if Seifer would repeat *that.*

Zell lost the battle with a smile, ducking to hide it. "Good to see you're finally getting some sense. I knew it already though. Saw it on your face right before I hit you."

"So *that's* why you held back. I could see the murder on your eyes. I was too surprised to speak when I realized I wasn't coughing up blood."

"If you *didn't* regret it, I would've had no problem with turning your guts to mush." Zell's face burned at the mere thought of it.

"Now now, don't be getting all vengeful again. You don't mean that."

"Don't be so sure," Zell bluffed.

"If you wouldn't have regretted killing me, even after giving yourself time to think about what you did --not to mention dealing with what Squall would do to you-- you also wouldn't have saved my life mere minutes earlier." Seifer reached around for Zell's far hand, turning him around as he pulled in emphasis of the fact that he was right.

Zell's eyes went wide as they fell on the very obvious bulge at Seifer's crotch. "Wooah, hold on a sec there--"

Seifer knew what Zell was taking about immediately, and began working at the laces, purposefully distracting himself as he felt it grow further at the simple fact that Zell was looking. "I'm trying to ignore it, Chickie, but it doesn't help to have you staring."

"The hell--"

"It's not my fault! Take a damn breather."

"Not your fault?" Zell raised a comical eyebrow. Seifer was blushing. Just a little. "Who the hell's fault is it then?"


"Ha! Yeah right, he touches your chest for half a minute and you're sprung? And you say *I'm* whipped."

"No, idiot. I didn't need three Curagas just to fix cracks and bruises. You know what unnecessarily cast curative magic does."

Zell's lifted eyebrow was joined by the other. "Uh, noo... Can't say I do..."

"It *is* Garden's best-kept secret, but still..." Seifer swiftly tugged off the second glove and regarded Zell through scheming slits. "You're telling me that you've never, in your entire life, had a Cure spell cast on you that you didn't need?"

"Regular ol' Cures? Sure, prob'ly, but I can't remember anything happening. Stronger ones aren't really easyugh ugh to get to just *waste* 'em... I mean, why would anyone?"

"Ahh," Seifer made a wide, understanding nod. "Cures are too weak to do anything. Curas leave a tingle, if you want to call it that. But Curagas? Fuck, watch out."

"Whatcha mean, 'watch ou'--"

"I mean *watch out.*" Seifer lowered his voice to an anticipatory whisper as he took a stronger hold on the hand that still remained in his, "Curaga."

Zell could hear is own distant groan as the spell washed through him, finding no pain to gravitate towards and thus dissipating through mind and body alike. It was like taking a hundred hot showers, the gloriously satisfying ache of exertion, sleeping in a bed of mink pillows with his starving belly full of ice cream. He was flying and falling at the same time through an orgasm that belonged to someone else, and would have easily fallen back if Seifer hadn't held him up with a hard yank that shook his arm. It overover, within a second that lasted a minute. He just stared, speechless and breathless, at Seifer's smirk. And suddenly, he was very, very horny.

"That, my friend, is the true reason for the harsh ban of unnecessary magic use by Balamb-G's students. Wouldn't want the kiddies playing pranks and jumping each other in the middle of class, would they? If I remember correctly, the penalty for specifically using curative magic is... three days of solitary confinement? Or four? With the second offence bringing expulsion? It's hard to remember, no one's broken that rule in years... Rather odd either way, as the punishment for using attack magic is only a few detentions..." Seifer's proud explanation dissipated into an all-out smile as he observed the heavy way in which Zell was breathing, nearly growling at him, eyes half-lidded with lust. "Of course, being on the Disciplinary Comittee and therefore immune to its wrath, I just had to try it out myself and learn what all the fuss was about." A downwards glance confirmed what he already knew. "And just imagine getting *three* of those cast on you. At once."

"Damn," Zell mumbled breathlessly, trying not to sound intoxicated at the distracting throb of heat pressing him to the front of his jeans and arcing up his spine, "That's like a... curaga-ga-ga-ga? No wait, I think that's four... I dun' care... I gotta..." He climbed anxiously to his feet, tugging his hand from Seifer's grasp, "... go outside... like *now*... beg if I have to..."

Seifer let out a hearty laugh. "Ice Queen's livid with us both. Don't expect to get any action out of *him* this morning."

Zell's heart sank, bringing him all the way back down to the floor with it. "Aw, fuck..." he whined, "and you knew it too, when you did that! Asshole, turn around so I can get this over with myself."

"I'd rather not. You're not the only one in need right now. As you know."

"A big plan! That's what that was! You and your schemes..." Anger failed him, simply crowded out by what else he was feeling as he looked Seifer over. He knew he *should* have been livid himself, should have gone outside if only to just pout in silence by Squall's side, but he was currently quite desperate and probably would just end up jumping *him*-- definitely a bad choice. Seifer had the same lean build of a man devoted to training with a gunblade, and although it covered a larger frame, it probably wouldn't feel *that* different from Squall's beneath his hands. He licked his lips, damning both himself and the others for giving him no other choice.

"If I hadn't volunteered you would have been too curious not to ask me anyw--" Seifer was cut off as Zell pounced, landing straddled across his lap with a force that nearly knocked him over and immediately mashing their lips together. Zell groaned and thrust forward to the hard press that met his inner thigh, so close to where he needed it to be. Just as Seifer began to respond with his tongue, Zell jerked back to speak.

"Think he'll be pissed?" he asked, still holding onto a shred of his conscience but conflicting words with actions as he dug his fingers into the lighty sheened skin of Seifer's back, mouth already making its way to the larger man's throat.

Seifer swallowed hard in order to speak as hot little canines pressed into a tendon, "I think he'll be happy as long as were doing something other than knocking each other out..."

"'Way 'm feeling right now, might happen anyways."

A low rumble emerged from Seifer's throat as his body responded to the words. He grabbed at Zell's shoulders, jerking him back far enough to engulf him, not even having to fight for entrance as Zell opened invitingly and moaned again at his mouth being invaded by so much explorative muscle. They only broke for a second, to allow Seifer to tear Zell's ripped black tank over his head and throw it away. Zell reached for Seifer's fly as their kiss continued and managed to unfasten it. It wasn't much longer before Zell pulled away again to rasp in frustration, "Just *fuck* me already."

Hyne in Heaven or wherever the fuck she was, that did it. Still grasping Zell's shoulders, Seifer threw both of them back to destroy the flat nylon plane Zell had made, pinning him beneath hands and legs. "One thing you've gotta learn, Chickie-- you do *not* tell me what to do."

"Bullshit," Zell panted, lifting up in a desperate attempt to press into the heated body above him, "I'll tell you whatever the fuck I wanna tell you--"

"Go ahead then, if you want to deal with the consequences. I've got a lot more self-control than you do, and I can wait as long as you need me to before you learn." Zell just growled up at him. "Of course, you can still *ask.* Just don't think I'm going to follow any orders."

"Talking... too much."

Seifer nodded, satisfied. He let go of Zell's shoulders and climbed off for a moment to swiftly unfasten his fly and shuck his jeans off, tossing them to gods-knew-what end of the tent, then did the same with his own trousers. He fell between Zell's legs to have them wrap around his waist in an instant, tight enough to hurt, and Zell revealed with his words that he was bringing Seifer pain with purpose. "Lemme ride you. Never done it before, not the way I wan' to," he demanded, urging power into his voice when all it wanted to do was whimper-- Seifer had brought both hands around to cup his bottom, tingertips tugging tantalizingly close to his centre.

"Hmm, really?" Now *this* was amusing. "How about a 'please'?"

Zell began thrusting against the washboard of Seifer's stomach, angry and all the more desperate. "Pl... please," he ground out.

Seifer laughed at him. "No."

"I said please!"

"And I said you could ask. Never said I'd *grant* your requests--"

"Fucker!" Pushed to the peak of frustration, Zell used every ounce of his strength and actually managed to flip them both over. "Ha." He grinned, cocking his head to the side triumphantly. Small, but muscle head-to-toe, and it was good to see Seifer reminded of such an important fact.

Seifer's gaze darted right as he prepared to continue the turn out into the middle of the floor. Just as he was about to, he noticed a cactus spike lying threateningly close to where he planned to land. Shit. Maybe he could psyche Zell out by going the other way real quick--blast it all, negative there too. Zell's death-entangled shoe sat in the other corner. He couldn't risk misjudging the distance and landing too far, impaling one or both of them.

"Trapped," Zell observed, echoing Seifer's thoughts after following his eyes. He ducked down and caught a nipple between his teeth, letting it go for only a moment to exclaim "I win," and taking it back again, nibbling harder.

Seifer arched up into the delicious pain, brushing their erections together and eliciting a gasp from both of them, suddenly apathetic to the battle this had become. "Fine, fine sure..."

Zell leaned back to draw his entire length through a tight grasp, letting out a deep-rooted, shuddery gasp as liquid danced at the tip. He caught it on two fingertips before it followed through with its threat and fell onto Seifer's stomach. "This'll be enough right?"

"Yes, it'll be enough to keep me from ripping you in half, so get the fuck on with it."

"Oh, and you think *I'm* gonna put up with *your* demands now?" Zell teased with closed eyes, not caring that Seifer would see through it. He had already brought his hand behind him as he spoke and was currently fighting the urge not to just screw himself with it as he lubed up as liberally as he could, barely even wincing. Looking down, he found Seifer covering himself with his own wetness. "Aw, considerate."

"Get *up* here, dammit."

"You gonna help me out a bit with this, though?" Zell asked, suddenly a little nervous as he slid his knees up along the floor to position himself. He would be in control now, and it was difficult to know if he would have any natural skill.

"You want it, you figure it out," A vengeful smile marked Seifer's face, "Made your bed, now lie the fuck down in it."

"Fine," Zell replied around a bitten lip as Seifer helped rock-hard heat meet puckered muscle, "Don't expect anything mindblowing then." He pressed his palms to Seifer's shoulders as he began to lower himself, welcoming the stretch but still moving slowly.

Seifer forced himself not to answer with a curt, 'With *you,*? Not a chance,' sure that Zell would smack him and leave for it. Instead he groaned, suddenly partly engulfed in fire. "Hurry up." Anxiousness cooled a little as he looked up to Zell's face, finding deep concentration upon it. "You alright?"

Zell found relaxation in the slight concern within Seifer's voice. "'m *fine,*" he replied, punctuating the last word as he thrust downwards, bringing a shock to his system that he hadn't fully anticipated. "Nnnnhhh!" Full. So, so full. The cry dropped off high. "Shhhit, bet Squall heard that."

Seifer had made his own sound at the same time, more like a rumble and definitely much quieter than Zell's. "Don't tell me you thought we'd get all the way through this without him figuring it out."

"Hadn't... thought about it. 'Sokay though, I don't care. He'll understand."

"I'll *make* him understand-- made *you* understand, didn't I?"

The thought made Zell purr. "I'd wanna see that."

"Maybe later. For now..." Seifer sighed and reached for Zell's waist. He was quivering too much, and would probably quit early with no help. "Lean back a little. And for Hynesakes, *move* before I turn us back over and fuck you raw, spikes or no spikes. Convulsions... hmm, that would feel pretty good..."

"You're sick." Zell grinned as he followed Seifer's instructions, thankful for the turnaround and the assuring grip on his hips. He leaned back far enough to leave only his fingertips brushing Seifer's shoulders, and had to hold his breath to keep from moaning again as he lifted and fell. Hoshit, he was brushing that spot again. Rhythm developed as he used that feeling as a guide, catching on quickly. Soon he had it perfect, hands tight over Seifer's, leaning back rather far as the man met each thrust with one of his own and slammed lighting all the way up into Zell's skull, spreading it through his shoulders.

But now, Zell was silent. Seifer didn't like that. One of the hottest traits he found Zell had-- aside from that desperate look on his face and equally desperate liquid grip drawn around him-- was what he let show in his voice. Seifer would have to bring out the Big Guns. "There's no doubt he knows what we're doing now. I'll bet he's just outside, straining his ears to hear you. Won't you give him what he wants?"

Zell let out a short whimper as they moved, but no more. Stubborn little guy.

"Bet he's got his hand around his cock right now. Pumping in time with us. Won't come in 'cause he's shy."

A hiccoughing-moan, then a whisper, "Shouldn't be..." -hitch- "shy..."

".... His hand's got to be slick, soaked, he's so damn turned on..." Seifer heard his voice shaking as he found the words turning *himself* on, "Just... agh, just be like you were last night, get him in here." He was getting close, pushed far by the desire to feel Squall's eyes on them both. Zell seemed to be too, knees vibrating on either side of him.

The final instructions weren't needed. Zell let his voice loose in the middle of them, groaning and moaning and letting every thrust show in a beautiful new sound. With a jolt Seifer realized Zell was *too* close-- and when he got there, he might collapse or stop moving before Seifer was done. Couldn't have that. He lifted a hand to Zell's back, removing the other to push from the floor until he was sitting.

Zell yelped with surprise but recovered quickly to wrap his arms around Seifer's neck and pressed his chin over his shoulder, felt him lift the both of them up easily to fold his legs under himself for more leverage. He barely had to do anything but anchor his toes on the floor when their thrusts finally broke from pause, both faster and deeper than he had been able to manage before. Completely and thoroughly fucked-- he didn't mind giving up the control necessary to make it possible one bit. He drew a hand downward, forced by their rocking to press a soft-and-light pattern down Seifer's chest before finding his desperately dripping need. Three pumps, and he pictured Squall doing the same thing he was, and one more was all it took. He smooshed his face into the straining bulk of Seifer's neck just as he began slamming into him his hardest yet. Glory spread in a thunderclap almost as loud as the burst of his wail and turned him inside out, sending him arcing further forward as he spilled hard against Seifer's chest and stomach.

"Aw, Zel--no! You fuck, made me do it again.... should've known you would... ohwhothe hell cares anyway..." was Seifer's jumbled reply to the new but familiar throbbing tremors enveloping him, drawing him deeper when he hadn't any more to give, the hot drips down his torso only driving him more wild. His volume fell to a strained murmur as he submitted to Zell's name one more time (hell, it didn't matter now) and surrendered his essence into the body that begged him with a final hard drive.

Sighing euphorically, Seifer tumbled back, bringing Zell and an "eep!" down with him. Zell's hands spread wide on either side of them, instinctually bracing for impact. And then the shaking body on him froze.

"Fuck, tell me you didn't--" Seifer's gaze shot to the left, finding Zell's hand just millimetres from his poison-tangled shoe and instantly filling with dread. "Did you get pricked?"

"I... don't know..." Zell's tone was eerily calm as he drew his hand slowly back. Not good.

Seifer grabbed his wrist and thrust Zell's hand in front of his face, searching for even the slighest hint of blood. He couldn't breathe as he searched his palm and each individual finger, not caring if the way he twisted Zell's arm hurt him. He made it to Zell's pinky, found it clean, and couldn't help but let relief make him kiss it in celebration before letting go."You're fine. Nothing." His head feel back and he smiled up at the cieling where that pet mosquito of theirs still buzzed.

"I could've... died just there, huh? An inch away. No more antidotes."

"An inch away," Seifer confirmed, drawing his arm tighter around Zell's back. "We should get rid of those. Throw them out and make you some new ones out of that other sleeping bag. That, or I'll carry you."

Zell shrugged off the heavy arm and drew away, carefully letting Seifer fall half-limp from his body before rolling to his left, remaining on their bedding and thus out of the way of the additional danger that lay in the middle of the floor. "That was stupid." A trace of heated tears touched his eyes, the result of orgasm's emotions mixing with his near-death experience-- neither of the two could have done this to him on their own. He blinked the glassiness away, taking a deep breath and controlling himself. "Really, really stupid."

"Sure it was, but I have to say the danger was hot... at the time. People always do stupid things when overtaken by passion. I'm a prime example."

"May as well've fucked in a minefield."

Seifer chuckled and faced Zell's back. "True. That would be hot too."

Zell shook his head in dismissal, not in the mood for Seifer's sense of humor. "...Said my name again."

"Yeah... I got to a point where I didn't care. It doesn't matter, not really."

"Not really," Zell repeated dreamily. "Y'know, this is the last thing I thought would happen after... well, *that*. Thought you would beat the crap outta me after he fixed you."

"Think about that for a minute. Have I ever even hit you?"

"'Course, you..." The thought had Zell trailing off. Nothing came to him. "Yeah, back when... you... er..." He searched his memories desperately. Seifer had threatened him millions of times, pinned him, trapped him, wrestled with him, scared the crap out of him and said terrible things... but never had he injured him with weapon, fist or foot. "No way, 's gotta be the GF..."

"Nope." Seifer's voice had become suddenly warm. Zell turned back to search his eyes with more disbelief. "I have never hit you. Not once."

"Aw hell, make me feel guilty again why don'cha..."

Seifer shrugged languidly. "I thought you knew already," he replied around a yawn.

They lay in silence for about a half-hour before noticing that the rising sun had begun to paint bright streaks on the flimsy wall behind their heads. Seifer glanced up at the light, hoping to figure out what general time it was, and found the shadow of something much, much better cast across the bottom. He pressed a finger to his lips and nudged Zell with his elbow, gesturing up with his chin, and Zell followed it.

'Shit!' Zell mouthed, grogginess escaping him. He barely managed to keep silent atop the giggle that struggled in his throat. Squall's form lay sprawled out to cast a shadow on the other side of the canvas, right by their heads and completely still. He shifted close to whisper in Seifer's ear, "Why didn't he come in?"

Seifer took his turn at whispering. "Because he's a shy, stubborn idiot with no initiative. Shall we scream at him from in here or go surprise him out there?"


More A/N Ramblings:

Woo, way to go me, taking a wee continuity error and making in an excuse to get them to touch. Yes, dammit, I'm proud of that. lol
Making magic an aphrodisiac was cheap as hell though, as I shamelessly punked the idea from Tricia ('The Price of Pursuit,' anyone?). Mueehehehe... I hope you don't mind.... I'll plug JF to make up for it:

Hey kiddies, see that "Juxtapose Fantasy" banner at the bottom or top of the page, that one with an oh-so-adorable redhead or raven-haired boy looking angsty and pounceable? Ok, if it's not there now, I'm sure you've seen it.-- No!-- Don't lie to me.
>_< I know you know what I'm talking about.
Either click it, right now, or copy and paste into your browser:
And support Tricia, she works her talented butt of for that site and she's a helluva lot better than I am at this whole writing-thing.

*satisfied nod*

Aaanyway, I had to do *something* to get them messing around. And it's going to be damn fun to use this to my writersblocked cop-outing advantage in the future. Because I just suck like that. ^_~

OHOH! And the reviews! Thank you! I can't believe it, 28 already... Some of the best reviews in the world here, with comments on plot and everything, so so great! Well they're all great and welcomed and awesome, of course, but the long ones are the best!
*waaaaaay too giddy and exploding with luff right now. must go to bed. probably won't. will go to store to replenish ciggie stash. gulp.*

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