Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ UnComfortable ❯ So Broken In ( Chapter 2 )

UnComfortable

By:Hankai

27.10.2002

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I do not own Squall Leonhart, Seifer Almasy, Rinoa Heartilly or any of the other members of the Final Fantasy VIII cast. They are the property of Sony and Squaresoft and I am not making any profit from using them.

Eternal gratefulness is once again give to the Guardian of the Mashiroi Kaze for the preliminary beta.

Special Thanks are extended to everyone who reviewed; particularly the formidable RedRum, the delightful Lady Yuskreven, and the wildly talented Purple Penguin-all of whom I have read and greatly enjoyed. Your kindness was a great inspiration to release chapter 2 this early.

A/N: If AngelStarFire-san and / or Arty-san would still like to beta, please email me.

This story has YAOI and SHOUNEN-AI in it-Seifer/Squall pairing. Rating is subject to change.

The song "Comfortable" was preformed by John Mayer and can be found on his album Inside Wants Out (track 7) from Columbia Records.

Please Read and Review. Thank you.

- Hanakai

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Chapter Two

So Broken In

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Can't remember

What went wrong last September,
Though I'm sure you'd remind me

If you had to.
Our love was comfortable and
So broken in.

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Zell darted forward and delivered a neat roundhouse kick to one of the Grat's flailing tentacles. It jerked back violently and made a strange gurgling hiss. Irvine raised Exeter and fired a single bullet before the plant-like monster could retaliate. The creature shrieked and then wilted before fading away into holographic dust.

"Goddamnit!!"

The cowboy watched sympathetically as the small martial artist began to pound at the ground with his fists. "Zell . . ."

"What the FUCK is he thinking?! Has he lost his fucking mind?! Okay, so Rinoa's not the sharpest Crayon in the tool shed, and she's damned annoying, and she's about as deep as Marlboro dung during spring planting, but SEIFER FUCKING ALMASY?!"

Irvine adjusted his hat and looked around the Training Center worriedly. He doubted the High Commander would be thrilled if this became public knowledge . . . Whatever "this" was. "Zell . . ."

Zell ignored him, choosing to stand up and shadow box instead. "I mean, Hyne on a fucking pogo stick, WHAT is going on in that head of his?!" A perfectly executed jump-spinning crescent kick arched through the air. "First that prick drags his sorry ass back to Garden and then Squall turns into complete stranger over-freakin'-night and now this?"

The blond's voice raised several octaves; mocking Squall's soft alto and giving it a decidedly feminine shrill. "I miss you Seifer. You never talk to me, Seifer. I worship the fucking ground you walk on, Seifer. I want to bear your fucking children, Seifer. Never mind that you're a raging psychopath that beat me, tortured me, tormented me, tried to kill me, and almostTOOK OVER THE FUCKING WORLD!"

"ZELL!"

The shorter man suddenly stopped his bouncing and scowled. "Zell what?"

"You wanna try keeping it down some?" The sharpshooter toyed with the ends of his long, auburn hair, a nervous habit he'd never been able to conquer. "I doubt that our darling Pussy-cat would appreciate it if we let this thing get out."

The blond sneered. "Hyne forbid it."

"Let's just go. We've been here for nearly an hour and all we've managed to do was give Ifrit and Quezacotl a workout and kill off about forty Grats. Should we go see him?"

"Why? So that we can interrupt Seifer while he's popping his cherry?"

The taller man sighed. "You weren't this mad when he was with Rinny!"

"He's still with 'Rinny!' And that's because darling 'Rinny' never tried to kill him!" Zell snarled.

"No!" Irvine snapped back. "She only put herself into a thousand and one dangerous situations so that she could play the damsel in distress and force him to her rescue. So that she could play the Good Sorceress and Her Loyal Knight."

"Rinoa cares about him," the blond growled dangerously.

"Bullshit!" the cowboy drawled. "Rinoa cares about herself and no one but herself. She's a spoiled, brainless airhead who got just close enough at just the right time and managed to drag him off his little 'I-Don't-Give-a-Fuck' cloud and force him to walk on the ground with the rest of us useless human beings. She got lucky. End of story."

Zell's fists clenched and he took a step forward. "That's a fine thing coming from a whore like you who fucks anything that walks and has a hole!"

Violet eyes narrowed dangerously and the Galbadian shifted his weight slightly, his voice a low purr: "I may be a whore and I may be promiscuous, but I've never let someone I loved go just because I was too fucking scared to stand by him when he needed me."

Zell's face turned white beneath the stark black lines of his tattoo. ". . . What did you just say?"

"I said you're a coward, Zell."

The other man turned away. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Maybe," Irvine tipped his hat in acknowledgement, "maybe not. You forget, Zell, that I was the one standing at his left hand through that whole awful war and I could always see you standing at his right, flinching every time he hit Renzokuken, frowning every time he piled another Guardian Force into his head because he was taking 'em in like candy. I saw you, Zell. And I saw how much it hurt you that it was Rinoa who pulled him back from the edge of oblivion and not you." He smiled slightly. "And do you know what I thought about him?"

Zell turned around and stared at Irvine, an indecipherable emotion swimming in his flat blue eyes. "What?"

Irvine chuckled darkly. "At first I looked at you and Quisty and Rinny and I hated him. I hated him because he was blind and cruel and so undeserving of your love when I was the one who got left behind in Galbadia. Alone. And then I saw him fight and I understood. And I saw him work his ass off to keep us all safe: skipping meals when the rations ran low, taking extra watches so we could all get sleep, hitting his Limit Break every single damn time he could afford to and Drawing even when he had so much magic in him it hurt, just so that he could protect us all. Then I understood and maybe, for just an instant, I loved him too."

"And then what?" Zell's throat was dry and his eyes studied the ground. "You sayin' you don't? Love him, I mean?"

"Yah, I love him," the sharpshooter sighed. "But not all brotherly like Quistis does now. Not like you do or like Rinny does. I love him like . . . Like you love those little starving children you see pictures of. You hurt for 'em, wanna help 'em, you care for 'em and you grieve for 'em, but you just let 'em be because messing around with something like that hurts too much." He sighed again. "You didn't see it-the look on his face when he saw Seifer standing there next to Edea. It was the first time I'd seen him smile like something mattered to him since Sis left. And then, when he realized what was going on, he just looked kinda sick, like he'd been kicked in the stomach. That's when I knew better than to go messing around with that."

The cowboy shook his head. "It's not healthy, whatever the two of them have been doing to themselves. And, Seifer's temper not withstanding, it's damned unhealthy for anyone to stand in their way-in love or in war." His violet eyes locked onto Zell's blue ones in silent warning. "Damned unhealthy."

And nothing more was said.

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"What are we doing, Seifer?"

The blond man lounged idly in one of the borderline-uncomfortable chairs that decorated Squall's Spartan office and sipped on the French vanilla coffee he had been so graciously provided. Two empty plates and a tray with butter and syrup sat on the table next the door. "What?"

Squall shifted in front of the window behind his desk, oblivious to the way the light of the rising sun accented the glittering steel of his belts and carved sharply into the graceful sweep of his narrow hips. He leaned forward, resting on the windowsill, and pressed his scarred forehead against the cool glass. "Is this the way you pictured things? Our lives, I mean?"

Seifer looked up with a sharp frown. "What do you mean, sweetness?"

A delicate eyebrow lifted and the Commander turned slightly, a faint smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. "Sweetness?"

The blond shrugged nonchalantly and Squall heaved a deep sigh. He walked around the desk and settled into the chair next to Seifer's.

"This," he raised his hands and gestured helplessly to neat, functional office. "All this . . . This is my life." He lifted his mug off the desk and settled back into his chair, stormy eyes locked on the desk. His Inbox was stacked high full of papers and SeeD Request Forms. His Outbox was empty.

The young man took a slow sip of coffee and his eyes lidded. "I wake up. I go to breakfast. I argue with Rinoa. I argue with Zell and Quistis. I come up here and do paperwork. I skip lunch to train. I do more paperwork. I skip dinner to train. I do more paperwork. I eat a cinnamon raisin bagel with strawberry cream cheese every night at 11:30. I do more work until two. I go to bed." Squall's eyes opened and he suddenly looked shockingly old for someone who wasn't even twenty yet. He looked haggard. "Everyday. Until I die."

"Squall-"

The shorter man waved him into silence before continuing, still frowning into the darkness of his coffee. "I woke up one day and I knew that. I understood that this was what I had to do. I would settle down with Rinoa. Have children. Become Headmaster some day . . . I knew this. It's what they're all expecting. And then you came back."

He stopped and stared out of the window, his eyes distant and impassive. "You came back. And what was I to do then, Seifer?"

For a moment neither man said anything, simply watched the sun glittering over the ocean. The Garden had been in Fisherman's Harbor's waters for three weeks now for repairs. There simply wasn't enough room for everything, so they had decided to expand several sectors including the administrative offices, the classes, and the dorms. Laguna had offered to help, but FH put in a lower bid. That, and Squall wanted to be nowhere near his father even under the best of circumstances; and lately things had been anything but the best of circumstances. When the expansion was done, he, Cid, and Xu would have new offices and the Administration and Faculty would have the space that they'd all been clamoring for over the past year.

"What do you want me to say, Leonhart?" Seifer slumped in his chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him. "I didn't ask for any of this."

Squall took another sip his coffee. Three spoons of sugar and no cream-perfect. "Tell me what happened. Your 'romantic dream,' remember? You did say you'd tell me someday."

"You know," the blond began in irritation, "for someone who can't talk, you never could shut the hell up around me."

The brunet scowled faintly into his coffee. "It's not that I can't talk . . . I just don't have anything to say. I'm not . . . good . . . with talking to people."

"You never seemed to have trouble with me." Seifer swirled the coffee in his mug around when Squall didn't respond after a few moments. "In fact, I've probably heard you speak more than anyone else in the Garden. And you talk just fine when you know what it is that you want to say-you're more eloquent than most people I've met. You just don't talk to people. Except for me. Why?"

"You never . . . demanded stuff like the others do from me."

"I annoyed the hell out of you, tried to kill you on several occasions, picked on you, spread rumors about you, alienated you from everyone who tried to get within two feet of you, and generally spent most of my time trying to hurt you as much as possible. And that's not even including my whole 'Let's-Serve-the-Psycho-Bitch-from-Hell' phase." He drained his mug. "That makes me Leonhart-Worthy in your book?"

"I'm glad to see that you've maintained your sense of humor," Squall said flatly. He looked over, his gray eyes dark. "Angst doesn't really suit you, Seifer."

The blond made a noise that sounded faintly like a growl. "Yah well, all the warm happy fuzziness you're sending my way is kinda freakin' me out there, kiddo."

Squall looked up in annoyance. "I'm only a year younger than you, you know."

"Would you rather I call you Pussy-cat like the cowboy does?"

Gray eyes blinked. "He calls me what?"

"Pussy-cat." Seifer smirked. "C'mon . . . You mean you didn't know? Everyone in the school knows."

Squall frowned and slumped slightly in his chair. The scar on his forehead twisted and his eyes grew distant. Seifer waited patiently until he came back from where ever he went when he was thinking.

"He calls me Pussy-cat?" Squall asked after several minutes.

"Mmm-hmm." Seifer leaned forward and put his mug on the desk. "Cowboy's kinda creepy if you ask me."

"Irvine?" The Commander frowned again. "He's . . . Irvine."

"Yah. And stop looking at me like I just kicked your puppy. You're gonna get wrinkles if you keep making that face."

Squall blinked innocently, obviously having no clue what Seifer was talking about, and the larger man chuckled.

"You're so cute when you do that," he teased the brunet.

Squall scowled and flushed. "What's wrong with Irvine? He and Selphie are the only ones not jumping down my throat every five seconds."

"He absolutely despises Rinoa, you know," Seifer said. "I really think he'd kill her if he could-if he didn't know you'd freak."

"Irvine would never-"

Seifer snorted. "He's a trained assassin, Pussy-cat. Yes, he would. And for some reason that I have yet to figure out, he really hates her. I've seen the way he looks at her sometimes-I've watched you, all of you-and let me tell you, he'd kill her if it wasn't for you."

Squall's lips quirked slightly, obviously unconvinced. "You're seeing things. And don't call me that."

"Whatever," the blond teased. "I'm just saying-the guy's skipping with half a rope, s'all."

"Shut up, Seifer. Irvine would never do anything to hurt any of us."

Seifer rolled his green eyes up to the ceiling as though seeking divine intervention to make Squall understand what he was saying. "Hyne, I know that, sweetness. He would never hurt any of us. Hence the Rinoa-rage. Not that I blame him."

"So . . . What?" Squall straightened and sat forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees and fists tucked beneath his chin as he mulled what Seifer had said over in his head. "You're saying he doesn't like Rinoa because she's not one of us-our so-called 'Orphanage Gang?' "

"Among other things." Seifer leaned forward so that he was closer to Squall. He reached out and brushed the brunet's unruly bangs out of his eyes. "His little cowgirl ain't that fond of your Sorceress either."

Squall leaned into the touch unconsciously; eyes distant, his mind still wrangling with the problem. "They wouldn't do anything to her." He absently nuzzled Seifer's hand as it slid down to tenderly cup his cheek. "They're good soldiers. It's nothing to worry about." He began to nibble on his lower lip.

"I want you," Seifer whispered in a suddenly husky voice.

Squall looked over at him, the color of his eyes shifting rapidly as his emotions changed. "Seifer . . ."

They maintained eye contact for a moment before Squall suddenly leaned back into his chair and away from Seifer. He turned and looked down at the floor over the right arm of his chair. "You didn't answer my question."

"Do you really love Rinoa Heartilly?" Seifer demanded instead. "Look at me and say that you do and I'll leave. Because it's damned obvious to me that you don't."

"And what?" the brunet hissed coldly. "Do you want me to say that I love you?"

"Stop being a prick, Leonhart."

"Just answer my damn question, Almasy."

They glared at one another until the loud tick of the clock became unbearable. Seifer looked away and his shoulder sagged.

"What the hell do you want from me, Leonhart?"

"I want you to tell me why. Why you left. Why you came back. Why . . . I just . . ." he trailed off, unable to find the words he needed. "Damnit, Seifer . . . You know . . ."

Seifer frowned darkly and for a moment Squall thought that he wasn't going to answer. Then he sighed heavily and slumped down in his eat once again. "My . . . romantic dream . . ." He released a bitter bark of laughter. "It all seems so stupid now. You'd think I went with the Bitch to fulfill it, right?" He shook his head before Squall could respond. "I went because she promised me power. She promised me the power to decide my own fate instead of living or dying on the word of some stupid CO who had no clue what he was talking about. I was Seifer Fucking Almasy-I made my own destiny. What a crock . . ."

"Do you . . . regret . . . leaving Garden?" Squall asked softly after Seifer said nothing for a moment.

The blond shrugged. "It depends on what you mean. I regret hurting people, all the killing, betraying the Garden. I may be an asshole, but I never meant to be a traitor . . ." He looked over at Squall and the other man caught his breath at the intensity in his jade eyes. "I regret hurting you."

Squall looked away.

Seifer reached out and squeezed his left hand gently with his right. "Squall? Look at me?"

"Don't, Seifer."

"Squall-"

The brunet looked up again and squeezed his hand. "It's over."

Seifer's eyes took on that strange, half amused, half regretful look again. "But in the end, I can't really regret anything at all. If I did, I'd go crazy. I can't change the past. I can't live on what-ifs. I can't ever take back my actions. Besides, what I did has made me who I am. And I like who I am a damn sight better than who I was." He smiled faintly. "Shitty answer, huh?"

Squall shook his head. "No. It was an honest one. You saw something you wanted and you went for it. Nothing that you hadn't done before."

"It still doesn't answer your questions, though."

The brunet shrugged moodily. "To be honest, Seifer, I'm not even sure what I'm asking you. I don't suppose it matters, though. In the end you're right-no matter what you say, the past is the past. I guess the best we can do is pick up the pieces and move on, right?"

"Since when the hell are you a philosopher, Leonhart?"

"Since you stopped being a prick 24-7," the shorter man responded coolly.

Seifer laughed.

A small smile quirked at the edges of Squall's mouth and he pressed himself back into his chair as though trying to hide the expression.

The blond stood and walked over to the window Squall had previously stood at, still chuckling to himself. "We're quite a pair, neh Leonhart?"

"I suppose," came the soft response.

Seifer sighed heavily and watched the play of the sunlight on the waves in silence for several minutes.

"I would have followed you," Squall whispered suddenly.

" . . . What . . .?" Green eyes wide, Seifer turned to his rival, unable to believe what he had just heard. He settled back against the window ledge to steady himself. "What did you say?"

Squall was sitting up in his chair, leaning on his elbows again and frowning at the floor. His eyes were once more distant and slightly out of focus, but Seifer knew that he was paying attention. The brunet bit at his bottom lip again and said to the linoleum beneath his feet, "If you had asked me . . . Just held out your hand to me . . . I would have come with you. No questions. No demands. No hesitation." He looked up and his gray eyes were blue. "If you had asked me to."

Seifer frowned down at the desk, absently noting that one of the drawers was left slightly open. "I was waiting for you to come for me actually. It's pathetic, really . . . I kept on waiting for you to come sweeping in and rescue me. Even after you told me you wouldn't-said that I was your enemy. I just figured . . . you'd come one day. And everything would be okay." He looked up into Squall's soft blue eyes and felt his jade eyes harden to glittering gems. "Why didn't you?"

". . ."

"Why didn't you come for me, Leonhart? Any one of the others . . . Trepe, Chicken-Wuss, Messenger Girl . . . You'd have come for them, right? So why did you leave me to Her?"

"I . . . Seifer . . ." Squall looked away. ". . . I don't know . . ."

The larger man pushed off the window and strode around the desk to tower over Squall. The younger man seemed to curl into himself slightly, not out of fear, but as though he was in pain.

"Bullshit!" Seifer snapped, scowling thunderously as Squall pulled away. "Bull-fucking-shit, Leonhart! You can't even breath without analyzing it to death, let alone abandon someone like that-abandon me like that!"

Squall stood up so fast that his head almost hit Seifer chin. His eyes were blazing. "You. Left. Me," he hissed coldly, punctuating each word by hitting the blond's chest with the side of his fist. They weren't light hits, but they were barely taps compared to some of the blows they'd exchanged over the years.

Seifer grabbed his hand and squeezed the delicate wrist, grinding the fragile bones painfully. He jerked Squall closer to him so that the brunet's body was pressed flush against him. "I wasn't in total control! You said it yourself-that wasn't me. Not all of it. I made the choice to walk after Edea, yes! But I never knew it would go so far! Trabia, Belamb, Esthar, Lunatic Pandora, Lunar Cry . . . I didn't know, Leonhart! And in the end I was almost a spectator in my own head and I hated you for that! I sat there and waited for you like a fucking lovesick schoolgirl, all the while Her voice whispering in my head like a goddamned broken record. Day and night, night and day, always the same: nothing but Her and you and death. And I know that it was my fault, but I was waiting for you, Squall, and you never came!"

Their eyes remained locked on one another for a moment-Seifer's hard and unforgiving, demanding, while Squall's were the all the colors of the sea: blue and steel and turquoise. And then something happened that Seifer hadn't seen in over thirteen years: Squall's lower lip trembled slightly and those sea-colored eyes shimmered dangerously. The blond stiffened and his grip on the other man's wrist loosened.

"Squall . . ."

The shorter man shook his head slightly, a barely perceptible motion, and he leaned his forehead against Seifer's chest. The tears never fell, but they were still trembling in his eyes and they both knew it.

"Seifer . . ." he murmured in the man's chest. His voice was nowhere near emotionless-if anything he seemed to be drowning in his emotions, letting them devour him from the inside out. "Seifer . . . I'm here now . . ."

Seifer's face contorted with pain and he didn't feel the two hot tears that slid from his own eyes before they vanished into the autumn scented silk that was Squall's hair. He wrapped his arms around the narrow waist pressed close to him. "Are you, Leonhart? Are you really? You stand in a crowded room and you're a thousand miles away. You give speeches and demonstrations, bark orders, write policies . . . and you're just not there. I could reach out to touch you and my hand would pass right through you." He felt Squall flinch. "Are you really here with me now?"

"I was always with you, Seifer . . . even when you went where I couldn't. Even when I wasn't any where else. That's why I wasn't any where else. I was with you."

The blond squeezed him tightly as though to test his words and see if he would indeed pass through Squall. Slender arms wrapped around his neck and squeezed back.

"I didn't want to be a hero." The petit man whispered into his chest. His voice was as cold and emotionless as glass, but faint tremors wracked his body. "I didn't want to save the day. I just kept going because if I didn't I'd die. And I didn't want that either, no matter how hard I tried to get myself killed. Because the only time I was really alive was with you and I craved that. So how could I be anywhere that you weren't then? I didn't come for you because I was already there. I was waiting for you to rescue me and it never crossed my mind that you couldn't-just that you wouldn't. And if you wouldn't then what did it matter because I was already dead."

Seifer ran his gloved hands tenderly through Squall's hair. "Do you love me, Leonhart?"

"I need you."

"But do you love me?"

"Hyne . . . I need you, Seifer." He tightened his grip around the blond's neck and pressed his face harder against his chest. "I don't know . . . I don't know . . . I don't understand anything . . ."

The hand in his hair gripped the auburn strands tightly and pulled Squall's head back at a painful angle. The pale boy cried out, only to have the sound lost in a bruising kiss.

Heat. It engulfed the whole world, set the very air aflame. Their heat. And it became everything between them-their battle, their dance, their confusion, their anger, their passion, their song, the fire that was exclusively theirs. For an instant that was everything and when Seifer pulled away, there were tears sliding down his cheeks and blood sliding down Squall's chin. Pure heat.

"I love you, Leonhart."

To which only the desperate plea: "I need you, Seifer. I need you," was whispered.

More burning kisses followed, drinking in Squall's blood, trailing down his chin to his neck, scorching the sensitive hollow of his pale throat.

"I need you, Seifer. I need you."

And then suddenly Seifer stopped and pressed his sweaty forehead into the curve of Squall's neck. They were both panting and acutely aware of the feel of the other's body pressed against their erections.

Squall closed his eyes. "Seifer . . ."

"Shh . . ."

"I need you . . ."

The blond stood and his eyes were laughing and mourning all at the same time once more. He kissed Squall again. A chaste kiss this time, barely more than a brush of lips. "And I love you, Squall."

He pressed another gentle kiss to Squall's forehead on the deepest part of the angry scar that marred the other's face and then he released Squall so suddenly that the brunet almost fell. Seifer tossed him one last sad look as he walked out of the office, leaving the High Commander aroused, bewildered, and bereft.

"Seifer . . .?"

His pleading whisper was lost beneath the sound of the door closing behind the swirl of a gray trench coat.

It was 08:28. And Commander Squall Leonhart's world shifted on its axis.

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