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.

~ 9. H2O ~


Sr'sr's eyes shot open to find his face reflected in the black arrow of Hyperion's blade, wobbling before him as she stuck out of the sand. The sky was just starting to lighten behind her. He rolled onto his back and found Squall staring down at him, the grin of challenge in his eyes and the hard line of his mouth a don't-mess-with-me threat that begged to be messed with. He had found Lionheart-- it was now propped against his shoulder, shining with a hint of blue.

Seifer kept his eyes half-lidded as he raised his eyebrows in question. Squall nodded once, slowly, the seriousness in his stare making him look like he felt the coming fight would end in one (or maybe both) of their deaths. Seifer returned the nod-- albeit more lightheartedly-- and jumped to his feet, then tore Hyperion from the ground with a splay of sand. Squall took his weapon into both hands and backed away in consideration of a still-sleeping Zell, who lay sprawled on his stomach, only half-covered with their blanket scrunched oddly around him.

A chuckle escaped Seifer's mouth at the distracting sight of Zell's shamelessly bared ass as he, too, moved a good distance from their camp. Removing his eyes from Squall had been a mistake, and he learned this quickly when he looked up to find the brunette in the middle of a spin. Their blades caught just in time to keep Squall from slicing him in two. He shoved his arm hard to the side, nearly knocking Squall off-balance with the force as they disconnected, and jumped to narrowly avoid a flurry of swings that cut the air with loud zips when he turned.

"Aggressive today," Seifer commented as he effortlessly continued to dodge and block. Squall was already getting frustrated with Seifer's refusal to return his attacks. He didn't answer. "You're rusty. Been a while, hm?" Seifer spun around and found himself in the position to end the battle with a swipe across Squall's lower back, but gave up the opportunity. It was too early yet.

"Three years." The last time they had sparred like this, for the sake of the fight itself, it had ended in the now-white streaks written between their eyes. Squall hadn't had the time, nor the desire, to challenge him since Ultimecia's demise. He spent all his time in his office with no room for pointless trips through the training centre. In all honesty, he barely had the time to think about the blond anymore.

Things were different now-- they had changed literally overnight. He had awoken with memories churning restlessly from a sleep filled with dreams and flashbacks. Seifer had weakened him, and as beneficial as it may have been for his psyche, he wanted revenge. He wanted to set things straight.

And then Seifer switched into attack mode, a malicious smile washing over his features as he leaned and swung into the slashes he had been blocking. Something had crossed Squall's expression, just now, and he wanted to know what it was. He purposefully locked their blades in an x, pressed forward along with his words as he got close enough to feel the rush of Squall's breath, "Regretting being my bitch, Leonhart?"

Squall's eyes widened and he found new power as he flung himself back. They began to circle one another. "I don't know if your actions brought back my sight last night, or if it was just a matter of chance. If it was you, and if that was your intention..." He swallowed hard and tried to keep track of his sidesteps in the cool sand, "... I thank you." He watched Seifer grin and make a short, smug bow, then narrowed his eyes in anger. "But if you think that's what I've become, you're mistaken."

Seifer let down his guard for a second to step back in mock-shock. "Am I?"

"You couldn't be more wrong."

"Oh, Squall..." Seifer shook his head as he played at exasperated sadness. "All my best bitches beg. Need I quote you?" He raised his tone for his best whimpering-uke impression, "'Ah, Seifer, fuck me harder, *please*'...."

Squall had already begun his rage-driven lunge before Seifer finished his imitation. Feet plodding in long sand-splaying strides, he was in Seifer's face before the man could block him. A wide swing dragged the tip of his blade across Seifer's cheek, bringing blood to the surface instantly. Seifer's hand shot to the wound as pain rose up into his eye. He let out a loud growl of his own rage, but he didn't return the gesture. Squall had won. He cursed himself for putting so much of his energy into goading him-- and for giving up the chance he had had earlier.

Zell stirred at the yell and lifted his head. Shit. Squall and Seifer had been sparring. Naked. And he had missed it. He groaned and let his face fall hard into the pillow of his arms, his disappointment unnoticed by the others.

Squall threw his weapon to the ground and turned his back on Seifer, fists clenched at his sides. "You weren't supposed to use it against me."

"If I said I wouldn't --which I doubt-- it was a lie." Seifer dabbed at the blood on his face with his fingers, and found that the cut was deep enough to possibly scar. He considered casting a cure, but decided against it. He would have to be careful to save spells for injuries that needed them. Looking up again, he found that Squall was making his way further out into the expanse. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To do something I've wanted to since my voice came back." Squall tried to ignore the betrayal that throbbed within his chest. Who had won? Seifer, for getting such a reaction out of him, or himself for managing to accomplish what he wanted to in said reaction? He didn't know-- but he sure didn't feel victorious. He raised a hand above his head and stared up at the quickly-disappearing stars.

Seifer watched him quizzically, figuring it would be best to just sit and wait for his answer. He looked over at Zell, some thirty feet away, to find him awake, lazily pingping his chin on one hand with his eyes on Squall as well. Seifer followed the blond's gaze back to Squall just in time.

Squall closed his eyes as he continued to picture the sky in his mind, and quietly muttered "Water" when his concentration had reached its point.

A transparent orb, twinkling in the promise of daylight, appeared a hundred feet above Squall's head. Seifer smiled as he watched it grow, materializing from nowhere-- so, that was what the disgruntled brunette was doing. He wished he had thought of it himself. The orb broke into a million pieces within a second or two, and took a couple more to fall on Squall. He spread out his arms to stand like a star, leaning back further before it hit. The million drops landed hard, crashing over his limbs and flattening his hair. He didn't flinch at the cool shock to his face, just reveled in the feel of it washing dust and sweat from his forehead, shoulders, arms, thighs. He stood still for a short while, half-considering casting the spell again, before lowering his head. Seifer and Zell were both staring at him in some strange sort of shock. He broke from their eyes and started making his way back, trying to step lightly to keep as much sand from sticking to him as possible. Soon, he could hear Seifer following behind him.

"Fuck," Seifer mumbled as he watched several water-drops disappear into the crack of Squall's ass, finding himself hard in an instant. They made it to the camp, where he tossed down Hyperion and found Zell looking just about as incredulous as he probably did. "Squall, that was... You're..."

Squall turned for a second to fling an eyeroll (and a few more drops of water) at him before disappearing into the tent. Seifer narrowed his eyes, turned and saw Zell doing the same. After a very tense second-and-a-half, they lunged for the tent's doorway at the same time, pushing and shoving one another until they tumbled inside. Seifer was fast in his sudden frenzy of lust-- he climbed over Zell, knocking the wind out of him with a knee to his back, and tackled Squall to the hard tent floor. "Mine again," he declared before enveloping his lips in a rough kiss, and groaned at the feel of how slick Squall was beneath him.

But then, there was pressure on his stomach, and he was flung backwards, head forced forward at an awkward angle as it pressed into the tent's wall. "Fuck off," was Squall's reply as he glared from beneath crystallized lashes, sounding satisfied with the hard kick he had managed gain leverage for. Seifer struggled to breathe around the shock to his gut as he watched Zell attempt the same thing he had, though more timidly. To Seifer's surprise, Squall didn't fight him.

"Let me," Zell whispered as he leaned over him, lips picking up droplets of water from his earlobe. "Let me do what he did to you last night. I wanna make you act like that." He moved his hands to the back of Squall's head, drenching them in his hair, and leaned close to his lips.


Zell pulled back to stare, surprised by the determination in Squall's voice. "Why not?" He wiped away the spot of blood Seifer left on Squall's cheek with his thumb. "You let *him.*" He jerked his head back to gesture to Seifer, who still half-sat at the side, still trying to even out his breathing as he indignantly brushed away the sand Squall's foot had stuck to him.

"It's... different, Zell." Squall felt guilty, but something inside him wouldn't allow him to shame himself at Zell's hand. Sure, Zell had seen how he was with Seifer (he was beginning to wish he hadn't), but, well, it was different.

"Of course it'll be different," Zell replied.

"Pouting won't get you anywhere." Squall reached up and took Zell's hands, then guided them out of his hair before he steadily pushed them to Zell's chest. "I'm sorry."

Zell's head fell forward as he reluctantly climbed off of him. He exited the tent in silence to flop onto their gathered mass of sleeping bags. Squall closed his eyes, his head falling back when Zell left. He didn't want to feel bad, but he couldn't help it.

"So, now that *he's* gone..."

Squall's eyes flew open just in time to catch Seifer's grin before he kissed him. His hands pressed lightly into Seifer's shoulders, and "Mff!" was the only real protest he could make before a rough hand found his chest and slid over to the nearest slick nipple. A pinch and light twist and he was letting Seifer's tongue stroke the roof of his mouth, and when Seifer moved to the other he caught his hips thrusting up into the air at the twinge that arced through his chest. He wasn't pushing on Seifer's shoulders anymore, but pulling him closer.

Seifer tore away to speak. "I won't fuck with your head this time." He cut off any further argument Squall could make by roughly flipping him over onto his stomach. "You don't even have to think at all," he assured against Squall's cheek before nipping at his ear a few times.

Squall wanted to hit himself. What was he doing? Zell wouear ear them, and he would probably be crushed. But he was rock hard now, and so was Seifer, judging by the way he pressed against his bottom upon climbing over his legs. Seifer wouldn't leave him alone until he gave him this. That was what he used as an excuse as his aggressor reached beneath him and wrapped his hand around his erection, used the leverage to pull him up onto his knees.

Seifer put his own fingers into his mouth and then rushed them along his length. Saliva and the wateualluall had covered himself with would have to be enough. The sight of Squall splayed out and open for him, not to mention dripping wet, was already driving him insane. He couldn't wait.

When he felt Seifer pressing against him, Squall lifted his head from the sand-dotted floor-- it would scratch the hell out of his face in a second if he didn't. The first smooth half-thrust had him sinking his teeth into the flesh where his thumb met his palm to muffle a yelp. It hurt this time, burned like hell actually, but he couldn't make himself mind. He was glad Seifer was getting this over with quickly. Maybe, he hoped feebly, Zell wouldn't even notice.

Seifer gripped Squall's hip hard, competing with the water that threatened to make his hand slip away. He began roughly stroking the hard flesh in his other hand just before he finished filling him. Squall shuddered tightly around him, and he didn't give him any time to get used to the feeling-- just started thrusting hard and fast from the start.

Squall scraped his fingertips madly across the floor, trying unsuccessfully to gather some of the canvas in his hands to relieve the pressure already building up in him. His face was contorted in a wince, and he coughed to hide the more revealing sound that wanted to escape. It was too much, too fast, Seifer slamming into his centre, hurting him, drawing his release with every timed pump of his hand. His confusion sent him leaning back into the pain in time as he was sent to both ends of the scale of sensation. All he knew, above everything else, was that he needed this to finish. Soon.

It did. Seifer leaned forward onto the slickness of Squall's back, let his lips brush past dripping strands of hair to meet his ear. "Come," he growled. As he expected, the command itself gave Squall no choice but to obey. He couldn't hold back his single betraying (but generally respectable and not at all bitch-like) groan as he threw himself back into Seifer, pushing hard with his hands as he erupted over Seifer's fist. The combination of such hot liquid falling down his knuckles and of Squall acting so suddenly desperate for him had Seifer there in nearly an instant. He leaned back and managed to complete two more thrusts before Squall's muscles dragged his release from his body. After a relieved and somewhat loud sigh, he was empty. He fell back to sit with his legs folded beneath him and leave Squall empty in turn. He watched translucent white drip down and mingle with the clear drops on the inside of Squall's thigh and had to fight not to jump on him again. Squall collapsed onto his side then, rescuing him from the tantalizing view.

"Who's going to talk to him?" Squall asked quietly, his afterglow shortened significantly by raging dread. He had just said no to Zell and taken Seifer without argument. It didn't make sense.

"Talk to who?"

Squall rolled and sat up, then began squeezing excess water from his hair, a scowl tarnishing the flush of his face. He almost flinched at how sore Seifer left him, but managed to maintain his handy facade of stone. "Who the hell else?"

"Oh yeah, him." Seifer scratched his side and yawned indifferently.

"I'll go. You shouldn't say anything at all." Of course, Squall couldn't think of anything to say himself. He didn't know why he made the choices he did. He hated that. Zell was likely hurt, and he wouldn't be able to do anything. And there was no way he could send Seifer in his stead-- the man would just end up bullying Zell, bragging, making things worse.

"If you really want to bother, go ahead."

Squall stood and made his way out with a final icy scowl in Seifer's direction. He wanted to blame him for everything-- but he couldn't. He had barely put up a fight himself. The least he could do for Zell was take responsibility for his own actions. Squinting in the intensity of the sunrise, a brightness he hadn't been exposed to for days, he found Zell in a blind, livid stare as he struggled into his jeans. He had rolled up all three sleeping bags, and they now sat poking from the top of the backpack. "We should pack up the tent soon," he said darkly as he shakily buttoned his fly.


"Actually, you and Seif should do it. Since you work so well together and all." Zell didn't raise his eyes above the level of the horizon as he searched for his shoes. "Nice bruise you got there," he added with a quick glance to Squall's waist. Squall gulped as he looked down to find a small portion of his hip a light but betraying shade of purple. "I'll get your gunblade. Wouldn't want to forget that."

The last thing Squall wanted to see right now was Zell with a weapon in his hands. Then he remembered that his hands were weapons themselves and nodded in cautious agreement. Zell must have caught the motion from the corner of his eyes, or maybe he didn't care what Sq's 's opinion was-- he began jogging, feet now nestled in tightly laced sneakers, out to where Squall had left his gunblade. Squall picked up his clothing from where Zell had placed it-- folded and neatly piled by the tent's entrance, and pulled his shirt over his head, tugging hard as it was tugged by the bits of water that still remained on his torso.

Seifer appeared beside him while he dressed. "Where's he going?" Squall didn't answer. Seifer got his explanation as Zell, far far away, picked up a sliver of blue from the ground. "Oh." He looked down and found his own clothes folded as well, his boots placed neatly to the side and Hyperion laying in her sheathe across the top of the pile. "Nice homemaker we got here, eh?"

"Shut up, Seifer."

"Woah, okay..." Seifer pushed Hyperion from the pile and stepped into his pants, "Great cold shoulder you're giving me in return for the best lay you've ever had, but y'know, that's fine..."

Squall, who had been about to shrug into his jacket, dropped it to the ground. He spun and glared more viciously than he had yet, the movement so swift it seemed like a twitch. Seifer imagined he could see lightnig striking within those livid irises. "I said shut. The fuck. Up."

Seifer scoffed, pretending Squall was just being characteristically cold rather than completely furious as Zell approached. Zell dropped Lionheart at Squall's feet-- it skidded across he ground until it touched his foot, and would have likely sliced right through it had he not already put on his boots. He picked it up and sheathed it silently. "So, what's up?" Zell asked in a forced careless tone. He picked up the pack, turning his back on them as they finished dressing themselves.

The tent was packed in silence, and Squall decided to carry the bundle beneath his arm rather than bother Zell to let him shove it into their backpack. Unfortunately, Zell noticed, and reached out for it. "I'll take it."

"No, it's okay, let's just go," Squall replied hurriedly. He tried to take a step forward, but Zell lunged and and swiftly tore it from his grip. He stuffed it hurriedly into the pack and flung it over his back again, hard.

"*Now* we can go." Zell began walking without looking back to see if the others were following.

Squall stared at his back as he walked, frozen where he stood and completely speechless. That had been the cst tst thing to a violent gesture Zell had ever directed at him, and incombination with the pale icy glare he'd recieved, one which rivaled his own, it felt like a punch in the stomach. "I'm such an asshole," he mumbled, forgetting Seifer was just beside him.

"Well, at least you managed to give him that nice long explanation you wanted to," Seifer replied with cheery sarcasm, flinging an arm across Squall's shoulders. Squall shrugged it off instantly and began following Zell.

"Don't touch me."

Seifer shook his head and sighed. Today's walk was going to be *very* long.


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