FIC: Kissing It Better ~ Final Fantasy VIII ~ Seifer/Squall ~ Explicit

[batsutousai]

Title: Kissing It Better
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Author: Batsutousai
Pairing: Squall Leonhart/Seifer Almasy, post-Rinoa Heartilly/Squall Leonhart
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Canon violence, canon memory loss, these two are a wreck
Summary: Five times Seifer kissed something better, and the one time Squall returned the favour.

A/N: And here's the +1. Broken off into its own chapter because it's FUCKING MASSIVE. Because plot.

I am...unusually kind to Rinoa. The danger of having a friend who actually likes her, I guess. *shrugs* To each their own.

5 Times Seifer Kissed Squall

+1+

The last thing Squall had expected, was for Rinoa to walk in to his office one week after they'd finished cleaning up the Ultimecia mess and Balamb Garden was back where it belonged, and tell him, "I'm a little ashamed."

Squall blinked a few times, confused, and carefully slid the paper he'd been reading to one side, showing he was paying attention to her. (One only needed Selphie threatening to sit in his lap so she knew he was paying attention to her once to learn that people actually expected him to focus on them when they were speaking to him.) "Ashamed?" he repeated, because he was pretty sure that was the important part of the sentence.

Rinoa nodded a bit absently as she picked up the miniature Ragnarok one of the cadets had made, which had then found its way onto his desk. "This is cute."

Squall sighed and rubbed at his scar. "Rinoa." She and Selphie both did this to him, getting constantly side-tracked by whatever interesting thing caught their eye. And people wondered why he hated having conversations.

Rinoa let out a helpless little laugh and set the miniature back on his desk. Something on one of the claws glinted, catching the sun, and Squall squinted at it. Before he could figure out what it was, Rinoa explained, "I realised I sort of, just a little bit, forced this on you." She wiggled a finger between them.

Squall blinked. "You didn't force me to be your Knight, Rinoa," he pointed out.

Rinoa glanced up and let out a loud sigh. "That's not–" She shook her head and shot him a fond smile. "Are we dating?" she asked instead.

Squall blinked again, thinking that over and trying to decide what the right answer was. "Yes?"

Rinoa laughed, and it didn't sound angry or anything, but Squall still felt like he'd given the wrong answer. "Squall, I never see you unless I hunt you down in your office."

This, Squall knew the answer to: "I'm sorry," he offered, managing something like sincerity. "I don't mean to be ignoring you, there's just so much work–"

Rinoa held up a hand, her smile a little sad. "Squall, the point is, you should want to spend time with me."

Squall couldn't help but look towards the pile of paper at his elbow, waiting for him to read it through. Possible missions to send SeeDs on, legal documents about the status of everyone that had been obviously involved in Matron's brief reign while under Ultimecia's control, requests from Trabia and Galbadia for students looking to transfer to Balamb while those Gardens got sorted out...

There was just...too much to do. And Squall had always been more comfortable with busy work than he was with people. Rinoa wasn't the exception to that rule, no one was. ('Seifer had been,' a traitorous part of his brain supplied, and he kicked it into a box and slammed the lid.)

"You're really bad at this," Rinoa commented and Squall winced. She sighed and shook her head, hair catching a ray of the early morning sun and setting the paler streaks alight. "But, then again, so am I."

"I don't...understand," Squall admitted, forcing the words out.

"I know you don't," Rinoa replied, which helped absolutely nothing. "But that's okay. I just came to let you know I'm going to Timber for a bit. Check up on Zone and Watts and the others."

Squall nodded. "Do you want me to send someone with you?"

She smiled again, but it was sad. "Selphie offered to come, if you don't need her?"

Squall shrugged. "I shouldn't, no. Have–" what was he supposed to say here? "–fun."

Rinoa laughed and shook her head. "We will!" she promised before skipping from his office.

Once the doors had fallen shut behind her, Squall reached out and caught the thing hanging from Ragnarok's claw. It was his Griever ring, and he stared at it for a good five minutes before realising what it meant.

He knew, intellectually, that he was supposed to run after her, tell her to stay and that he loved her and he was sorry for every time that he'd put his work above her.

But he couldn't. He couldn't lie to her, because his work was important, and he didn't feel the need to be with her every hour of the day, like he was apparently supposed to. And, while he certainly cared for her and wanted her safe – would fight off anyone who thought it a smart idea to take on the Sorceress he'd sworn to protect – he wasn't sure it was 'love'.

Sometimes, late at night, when he was trying to fall asleep and not think about the papers on his desk or the memories of every time he'd screwed up and someone had got hurt during the war, he wondered about emotions. About love, mostly, because it was the one everyone seemed to expect of him, yet they never knew how to explain what it was.

Emotions were hard work. Squall missed the days when no one expected him to have any.

'Not true,' that misbehaving part of his brain whispered from within its box. 'Seifer expected emotions. Got them all the time.'

"Anger doesn't count," Squall muttered to himself as he tugged off his glove and slipped his ring back into place.

'Anger wasn't the only thing he made you feel.'

Squall closed his eyes against the faint memories he had unburied from his time at the orphanage, of Seifer chasing after him when he ran to look for Ellone, of Seifer kissing his hurt knee.

He shook his head and pulled back over the paper he'd been reading over when Rinoa had interrupted him. He didn't want to think about Seifer, and he especially didn't want to remember when 'I'll kiss it better' meant someone actually cared about him.

-0-

"You look like you need some fresh air," Irvine commented from where he was draped over one of Squall's guest chairs. Squall had never considered them comfortable, had seen more than enough cadets and SeeDs squirming in them, but Irvine had the ability to appear comfortable in any chair he sat in. (It was an ability he shared with a certain blond gunblader, irritatingly enough.)

"This high up, cracking a window will just send my paperwork everywhere," Squall replied absently as he signed the paper he'd just finished looking over. (He didn't mind Irvine visiting, because the Galbadian was one of the few who wouldn't get upset when Squall kept working while they talked.)

Irvine sighed, and Squall could envision the way the sharpshooter would roll his eyes. "You should go to Timber. Save Rinoa from her own pile of paperwork."

Squall snorted, because he knew his Sorceress delegated most of her work. (Hyne knew she told him he needed to try it, often enough, in her messages. He didn't bother trying to explain why, as Timber's president-elect, it wasn't as necessary for her to read over the original of every paper that crossed her desk herself, as it was for SeeD's Commander; if Squall tried that, he could very well miss a turn of phrase in a SeeD contract that could mean life or death for the team he sent out.)

Irvine's feet hit the floor with enough weight to make Squall look up, one eyebrow raised in inquiry. "Squall, your ass is starting to adhere itself to the seat."

Squall very pointedly stood up, because that seemed the sort of response that would finish this conversation the fastest.

Irvine groaned and covered a smile with one hand. "You know what I meant."

Squall sighed and sat back down. "I do," he admitted, because he wasn't immune to moments of claustrophobia. He fought them back by setting aside an hour each night to run through the Training Centre, letting him stretch his legs and keep in shape. "There's nothing for it. I'm busy."

Irvine sighed and drooped back against the chair, long arms hanging down to either side. "Squall..." He brought one hand up to flick the brim of his hat, pushing it back just enough that he could pin Squall with serious blue eyes. "You know, even Martine took a damn break every month. Usually just to run into Deling, but still. He got out of Garden. Got some sunlight."

"I am not Martine," Squall snapped, disgusted at the thought of being compared to the ex-Headmaster who had fled his Garden, rather than try standing up for it and his students.

Irvine touched the brim of his hat, letting it fall back over his eyes. "No," he agreed, words muffled, "but you are overworked. If you don't take a break on your own, I can't promise the others won't drag you out for a week-long holiday."

"I'm not overworked," Squall muttered, grabbing for the next paper in the stack.

"You need some sunlight, Squall," Irvine muttered right back.

Squall stared down at the name typed across the top of the paper in front of him: Seifer Almasy. It was a report of his movements, sent by some Galbadian aide with too much time on their hands. Squall had warned them off setting a tail on his rival back when he was deigned 'not at fault for his actions' during the Sorceress Trials – Hyne, but Squall hated that name, had hated the necessity – but had been told, in no uncertain terms, where to stick his nose. He was pretty sure they were sending him their reports just to prove they could keep an eye on him.

Squall couldn't help but let his eyes fall to the line that had his location as of the date the report was filed, and felt a spark of surprise to see it was just south of Winhill. He traced back up Seifer's path and sighed, unsurprised to find it looked very much like his rival was heading towards Centra.

Towards the orphanage.

Without even thinking about it, Squall pushed back from his desk enough to pull out the folder with the expected weather patterns for the current season from the bottom drawer. (He had it, officially, so he knew what to tell any teams he was sending out to pack in the way of survival gear, but he'd been pestered into leaking the information to the students last month for the winter holiday, and he expected he'd give in and do it again for the spring holiday in a few months.) Dropping it onto his desk, half covering the report on Seifer, he flipped to the stats on the southern Winhill Bluffs and Humphrey Archipelago areas.

"Mission?" Irvine asked, sitting up and looking curious.

Squall shook his head, half in response to Irvine's question, half at the hopelessness in sailing down to Centra at this time of year with the sorts of boats Seifer would be able to find in that area; the ex-Knight was going to wind up dead.

'You can save him,' that traitorous part of his mind that seemed determined to make him care about Seifer pointed out.

"What is it, then?" Irvine asked, leaning forward and tilting his head to try and get a look at the report hidden under the open folder.

Squall held himself still, at war with himself over a decision that, he realised after a moment, he'd already made. "Is Ragnarok here?" he asked, slipping the report off his desk and into a pocket without letting Irvine see.

Irvine grinned. "Yeah, actually. Want me to hunt down Selphie?"

Squall shook his head and pushed himself out of his chair. "No. I'm going by myself."

Irvine grumbled to himself for a moment before peeking up at Squall from under the brim of his hat. "Where are you going? In case we need to get a hold of you," he added, expecting Squall's immediate response.

Squall considered that for a moment before shrugging. "I'm going to Winhill, and then to see Matron."

Irvine jumped to his feet and pinned Squall with a glare. "And you don't think any of us would want to come with?"

Squall stared at him for a long minute, waiting for Irvine's anger to wilt before he calmly pointed out, "Term starts back up tomorrow. You, Selphie, and Zell have classes to teach, and I need Quistis here to pick up my slack." He turned away and waved a negligent hand. "Anyway, you visited Matron two days ago." Because Squall did, contrary to the Garden rumour mill, keep track of where his closest friends went when they left for a holiday. (He kept track of where all the SeeDs and Garden staff went, actually, in case he needed them recalled, but those he faced Ultimecia with were the ones that he never had to write down to know where they were and for how long they'd be gone.)

Irvine had nothing to say to that, and Squall left to track down Quistis and pack a bag in silence.

-0-

He found Seifer at Shennard Beach, staring out over the thrashing waves of the sea and hugging himself against the chill in the air. He suspected Seifer knew he was nearby – it was hard not to notice Ragnarok setting down less than thirty metres from oneself – but he hadn't looked back since Squall had stepped out of the ship, seemingly distracted by the endless water in front of him.

"Seifer," Squall commented as he stopped next to where his rival was sitting.

Seifer glanced up at him, surprise flashing in his eyes for a moment before he snorted and turned back to the sea. "I shouldn't be surprised it was you who finally hunted me down."

Squall considered that for a moment before shrugging. "No," he agreed, "you probably shouldn't be."

Seifer nodded and remained silent for a long while. Squall didn't make a sound at his side, enjoying the rare silence and the sharp chill cutting through the winter jacket he'd pulled out of storage to keep Matron from yelling at him for being careless with his health. (Never mind that junctioning Shiva meant he didn't, actually, notice the chill.)

"I'm surprised it took you so long," Seifer finally commented.

Squall shrugged again and glanced down at his rival to judge his response when he said, "I was waiting for you to kill your Galbadian tail."

Seifer let out a laugh, half surprised, half amused. He looked up at Squall, eyes sparkling with something mean and very much familiar. "Now, why would I do that when it's so much more fun to fuck her and then lose her?"

Ah. Squall hadn't realised they'd sent a woman after Seifer; that explained why they were still managing to keep tabs on him.

Seifer looked away, his humour fading. "How cruel do you think I am, Squall?"

Squall sighed. "I know exactly how cruel you can be," he pointed out calmly, and Seifer flinched. Squall looked away from the huddled form of the man who had been with him his whole life. "I missed your birthday," he realised.

Seifer pushed himself to his feet and turned to face Squall, his expression hard. "Is that your way of telling me I won't be having another one?"

Squall frowned. "How cruel do you think I am?"

Seifer opened his mouth, anger flashing in his eyes, before he slammed it and turned away, expression twisted with something that looked like hurt. "That's the thing about you, Leonhart, you don't even realise when you're being cruel."

Squall closed his eyes, remembering Rinoa leaving because he couldn't put her first like he should have. "I'm discovering that." He opened his eyes again to find green eyes staring at him, disbelief shining in them. "What?"

Seifer turned around and stepped away, putting some space between them. "Why are you here, Squall?"

Squall resisted the urge to sigh again. "I thought I'd offer you a ride before you tried crossing to Centra in a boat that wouldn't make it half way."

Seifer spun, shooting him an honestly surprised look, which turned helplessly wry after a moment. "Am I so easy to read?"

"Not particularly." Squall shrugged and turned back towards the Ragnarok, motioning for Seifer to follow him. "But that's where I would go if I didn't feel welcome in Balamb."

Squall waited on the boarding ramp for Seifer to make up his mind, then hit the door control as soon as the older gunblader stepped aboard. "Bridge is this way," he announced as he turned towards the door to the hanger. The heavy tread of worn-through Garden-issue boots, just slightly out of sync with his own steps, told him Seifer was following.

Seifer whistled once they reached the cockpit, staring over the panels, but very obviously not touching anything. "Who'd you have to kill to get this out of Esthar?"

Squall snorted. "No one. Officially, it was a gift in the 'Spirit of the Goodwill and Friendship between Garden and Esthar'."

Seifer mirrored his snort and dropped easily into the co-pilot's seat, Hyperion held, sheathed, in his lap. "Yeah. How'd you really get it?"

Squall grimaced. "It's Laguna's attempt to apologise for missing seventeen birthdays, among other 'important events' in my life." He glanced over to see Seifer's disbelieving eyebrow. "He's my father."

"Ah." Seifer fingered Hyperion's handle, and Squall was mildly surprised to realise he didn't feel even passingly nervous about his rival having easier access to his weapon than Squall had to his own. "So little Squally finally got a family. How quaint."

"Don't be an ass."

Seifer snorted and very obviously rolled his head towards Squall. "Really."

Squall turned to raise an eyebrow at Seifer, certain his rival could read his amusement in his eyes and, judging by the way Seifer grinned, he got the message. Far better than any of the others, who always seemed to think he wasn't amused unless he was smiling or – Hyne forbid – laughing.

"Oh, I know that look," Seifer commented comfortably. "Is Quistis hounding you to talk about your feelings again?"

Squall snorted and looked back at the controls, as though he could do anything when he'd already set their course into the auto-pilot. "The problem with letting people think you're friends," Squall heard himself saying, tone somewhere between resigned and tired, "is that they expect you to tell them your every thought."

"I never did that," Seifer complained.

Squall glanced back over, confused, and took in the expression on Seifer's face that said he hadn't meant to say that out loud. "No," Squall agreed carefully, wondering what he'd said or done that had Seifer responding that way, "you never have. But we've never been frie–"

"No, Squall," Seifer agreed, sounding tired and so very hurt, "you're right. We've never been friends. I'm 'just your rival'."

It sounded like a quote, like Seifer was repeating something that Squall might have thrown in his face because–

Faded from time and GF-use, Squall remembered walking into the cafeteria one afternoon, excited about some accomplishment or another in one of his classes, and seeing Seifer sitting with two new people, talking animatedly. He'd felt...hurt, and lonely. Refused to be dragged along with Seifer's new friends because then he wouldn't be special any more.

Squall closed his eyes and rubbed at them roughly. "I'm sorry," he whispered honestly, chest heavy with the reminder that he did, in fact, push everyone away, even when he didn't mean to. Seifer had been the only...anything he'd had, back then, and Squall had let his own selfish insecurities screw it up.

Seifer was quiet, and Squall couldn't bring himself to look over at the blond.

Finally, as the lighthouse came into view in the distance, Seifer commented, "I would have expected to see Rinoa hanging off you. If only so she could shove it in my face that I dumped her and it was the best thing I could have done for her because–"

"Seifer," Squall interrupted, suspecting he knew where this was going. "First, Rinoa isn't that bad."

Seifer snorted.

"Second, she left me almost six months ago."

Squall glanced over to see how Seifer took that announcement and had to bite back an impossible bark of laughter at the absolutely flummoxed expression the blond wore.

Seifer caught his amusement. "Oh, fuck you, Leonhart. Where is she? Really."

Squall shook his head and turned back to the controls. "She's president of Timber. She got tired of me putting my work above her."

Squall's chair jerked and he looked down to see Seifer's foot retreating from where he'd kicked the side. "You're supposed to go after her when she complains about that, Squally."

Squall shook his head. "Why? So she'll complain again in a couple weeks?"

Seifer sighed. "Did you even try?"

Squall considered that for a moment, then shrugged.

Seifer sighed again. "Did you at least make sure she had a Knight before you left her to rule an already unstable country?"

Squall eyed the other. "I'm still her Knight."

Seifer raised both eyebrows at him.

Squall narrowed his eyes in return. "I don't need to be dating her to be her Knight, Almasy. You know that." Out of everyone, Seifer was best able to understand the bonds between a Knight and his Sorceress.

"What's she doing right now?" Seifer snapped, clearly not about to just take Squall's word that he was still their resident Sorceress's Knight.

Squall closed his eyes and felt for the glimmer of light in the back of his mind that connected him with Rinoa. When he found it – a little duller than it had been when she'd left, but still very much there – he reached along it curiously, trying to find out what she was up to.

Rinoa helpfully sent him an image of Angelo, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he chased after the stick she threw for him. It was followed by a sense of curiosity of her own, a sort of, 'why are you asking?'

Squall resisted the urge to grimace – he never bothered her, beyond the occasional phone call and their monthly written correspondence – and offered an image of a curious Seifer, hoping that would explain his interest sufficiently.

Squall's chair gave a jerk. "Hey, Princess, if you're not her Knight any more–"

"She's playing fetch with Angelo," Squall reported, mind filling with Rinoa's concern for the danger he was in, spending time around Seifer. "She's also confused about why I care."

Seifer laughed, the sound mean. "Oh, you royally fucked that one up, Squally."

"Shut up, Seifer," Squall muttered as he sent back a promise that he was fine, then focussed his attention on landing Ragnarok, because they were there.

Seifer didn't respond to that, falling worryingly silent as Squall shut the systems down and led the elder gunblader back to the boarding ramp. He held back there, just out of view, as Squall hit the control to open the ship, leaving Squall alone to greet a smiling Edea.

"Squall," she breathed as Squall stepped down to meet her, accepting the hug she pulled him into with a sort of resigned good humour. "It's been ages."

"It's only been five months, Matron," Squall insisted, frowning.

Matron just gave him a look, and it was none-too-kind to his absence.

Squall shifted, feeling very much like a child caught misbehaving, and glanced back towards Ragnarok. "I brought a guest," he offered, finding no sorrow in using Seifer as a shield against their foster mother's disapproval.

"You did?" Matron replied, looking towards the ship herself. When Seifer stepped out, shoulders hunched uncertainly, Matron let out a broken sound and hurried forward to hug him, calling, "Seifer!" in a voice choked with too many emotions for Squall to figure out.

Judging by the deer-in-the-headlights expression that took over Seifer's face, that was the last response he'd expected. But then he curled forward, wrapping his arms around her, shoulders shaking, and Squall had to look away.

Cid was standing in the doorway of the orphanage, a faint smile on his lips, and he nodded to Squall as he approached. "How did you get him to come?" he asked when Squall was in range to hear over the wind.

Squall shook his head. "He was already on his way," he admitted. "I just shortened the trip."

"You're a good boy, Squall," Cid told him, and Squall rolled his eyes. Cid chuckled and motioned him in. "You have excellent timing, actually; Edea just finished a batch of brownies."

Squall, familiar with his foster mother's habit to make far too many sweets from the stories the others told, expected he'd have to spend a good hour working off the excess food Matron was going to try stuffing him full of. Which, with Seifer around to spar with, wasn't as terrible a fate as if he'd been stuck with only the local monsters to fight off.

Seifer and Matron finally followed them in shortly after Squall let himself be pushed into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, a plate piled with brownies and a glass of milk in front of him. He must have sent Seifer a particularly helpless look, for he burst out laughing and took two quick strides forward to ruffle his hair. Squall hit him lightly in response.

"Boys!" Matron snapped, frowning at them until Seifer sank into the chair next to Squall, both doing their best to look contrite.

Matron got milk, while Cid served out three more plates of brownies, and they joined Squall and Seifer at the table. Everyone made the appropriate appreciative noises after tasting the brownies, and Matron glowed at the praise.

"So, Squall, how is Garden?" Cid asked around a swallow of milk.

Squall shrugged. "Fine. I left Quistis in charge."

Cid considered that for a moment before letting out an understanding noise. "Oh. Right. The new term is starting, isn't it?"

Seifer frowned at that and glanced up at Squall. "Is it?"

Squall shrugged again, trying not to be bothered at the show that Seifer had no idea what the date was. "Today, yes."

"You could have come last week, with everyone else," Matron pointed out, giving Squall another one of her looks.

Squall struggled with that for a moment, trying to find an excuse that wasn't 'I was enjoying not having anyone pestering me while I tried to get work done', because he knew Matron wouldn't accept that.

"Ah," Seifer said, saving the day, "but then Squally wouldn't have picked me up, and I'd still be trying to figure out how to get off Galbadia." Then he turned to Squall, eyes glinting with a promise that Squall was about to regret whatever came out of the blond's mouth. "Which reminds me, Squall, what will your Galbadian allies say when they find out you flew away with me and completely lost my tail?"

Squall raised an eyebrow and deadpanned, "I don't care. I told them months ago that putting a tail on you was a waste of resources."

Seifer tensed. "Why? Because I'll kill them all?" he snapped and Matron shifted like she was about to speak up, but Cid touched her wrist.

Squall met Seifer's angry stare and said, "No. Because you're not a danger to anyone so long as they leave you alone."

Seifer smiled, but it wasn't a nice smile. "And how many lives are you willing to bet on that, Commander?" he returned, spitting out Squall's title like it was poison.

"My own," Squall said quietly before holding his arms out to either side, clearly away from where Lion Heart was trapped between his back and the chair, and giving anyone with a grudge unobstructed access to his vitals. "Prove me wrong."

Seifer looked away. "Don't tempt me, Leonhart," he muttered, but there was no feeling to the words.

Matron reached out and gently touched the back of Seifer's hand before telling them all about the various repairs she and Cid had been making to the orphanage in the months since the war, trying to make it habitable again.

Squall knew most of it from the others – they usually got dragged into helping while they visited – and the rest he'd figured out from the requests for funds that Cid occasionally sent him – Squall had made it quite clear, back when they'd returned Matron and Cid to Centra, that if they needed anything, they should ask him and he would ensure it was provided.

"How long are you two staying?" Matron asked once the brownies and milk were gone and everyone was in a better mood.

Squall shrugged. "I'd rather not stay away from Garden for more than a week, but I don't have any real time constraints other than that." He grimaced. "Unless something comes up."

"We'll just have to hope the world can survive you taking a holiday," Cid teased.

Squall resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"And you, Seifer?" Matron asked, touching his arm.

Seifer offered her a smile that looked, to Squall, pasted on. "I have neither people waiting for me, nor things that need doing. I'm here until you get sick of me."

Matron looked at Squall and said, very seriously, "We're going to need to double our grocery budget for a few years."

Squall snorted and glanced over at Seifer quick enough to catch the spark of surprise in his eyes before he hid it. "I'll arrange it when I get back." He sighed and fingered his scar. "I'll warn the others, too."

Matron nodded. "Yes. And remind them I want things peaceful in this house." She glanced between Squall and Seifer, both of whom ducked their heads. "Anyone who takes part in a fight has to weed the garden."

Squall had heard about the garden, and while pulling weeds wasn't a horrible punishment, as punishments went, he knew the real punishment would be Matron's disappointed look. "What about sparring?" he asked, remembering his earlier thought that it would be nice to be able to spar with Seifer again.

Matron considered that for a moment, while Seifer frowned at Squall, as though uncertain what to make of the question. "No gunblades," Matron decided.

"But Matron," Squall heard himself complaining in tandem with his rival.

Cid chuckled. "I'm sure you boys can find perfectly serviceable sticks, or cut yourself something from the leftover lumber."

Matron tapped the bridge of her nose and said, "It's bad enough that you gave each other those."

"It was an accident!" Seifer complained before looking at Squall. "You were supposed to block it."

Squall felt a flare of irritation in his chest. "You cheated and hit me with fire, Seifer. In the face."

"Boys!" Matron snapped.

Squall huffed and very determinedly looked away from Seifer, fully intent to simmer in the remembered anger for a while.

Matron stood and pointed towards the door when they looked towards her. "Garden. Both of you. Go."

"But I didn't–!" Seifer started.

"Both of you," Matron repeated.

They both got out and trudged outside. "This is your fault," Seifer muttered as Squall led the way towards the garden.

"What? That's you cheated?" Squall hissed back.

"No more fighting!" Matron called after them.

Squall traded a disgusted look with Seifer and they settled down on opposite sides of the overgrown garden to tug up weeds.

They'd been pulling weeds for probably about ten minutes when Seifer called, "Why would you suggest sparring?"

Squall stared down at his dirty gloves and shrugged. "Why wouldn't I?"

Seifer was silent for long enough that Squall finally looked up at him, blinking at the confused frown he was wearing. "Because the last time we sparred, you spent the night in the infirmary?" Seifer finally suggested, touching his own scar.

Squall shook his head and returned to his weeding. "So? It wasn't the first time one of us hurt the other." He shrugged and admitted, "Anyway, you're my sparring partner."

"What, no one else at Garden good enough to hold up against Commander Leonhart?" Seifer mocked.

Squall looked up and caught Seifer's eyes, keeping his voice firm as he said, "I didn't even care to look."

Seifer blinked and quickly looked away. After a beat, he drily commented, "You know, Squally, if you're trying to make me blush–"

"I'm trying to tell you that I've missed you!" Squall shouted.

Then he realised what he said and quickly looked away, heart thudding too-fast in his chest. He...missed Seifer?

'Yes,' that traitorous part of his brain whispered. That part of him that, despite everything, refused to let him forget that Seifer had always been there. And life without him around felt somehow...wrong. Almost hollow.

Seifer stood in a rush, the motion drawing Squall's eyes. "Come on," he ordered. "Let's spar."

"We're supposed to be weeding," Squall pointed out, even as he stood himself, brushing his hands against his legs to get the dirt off.

"Yeah, and now I'm done weeding. Find a stick."

Squall rolled his eyes, but set off to find himself something that wouldn't be too light and would hold up to some hard hits.

He ended up picking out a piece of excess lumber, and Seifer joined him after a minute, expression disgusted. "We'd be better off fighting with feathers," he complained as he picked through the pile.

Squall snorted and turned away, picking at splinters as he mentally unjunctioned his GFs and magic; it had always been their rule, that they fought unjunctioned, and Squall was almost certain Seifer didn't even have a GF to junction. Anyway, given that they were stuck with wood for weapons, unjunctioning was sort of a necessity.

He couldn't say what made him raise his stick and pivot, but he managed to catch Seifer's first swing with the move, the blond grinning madly behind his own stick.

"If you shoot any fire at me, I will hit you with an Ultima and not regret it for a minute," Squall warned.

"You'll end up weeding the whole garden for it," Seifer pointed out.

"I'd consider it worth it."

Seifer laughed, loud and a little wild, and Squall found himself smiling in response, a little grim, but also...free, he thought.

It was the first time since before he'd made SeeD that Squall felt honestly happy while he was hitting something, and he was using a piece of scrap lumber. The world moved in strange ways.

They sparred for almost twice as long as they'd been weeding, putting all their strength and speed into it, fighting like they meant it, because neither of them could manage anything less than their best against each other. It had made them fighters to be feared, as students, and was at least part of what kept anyone from thinking that Squall was too young to being the SeeD Commander, now.

When they finally stopped, they were both breathing hard enough that Squall's chest, at least, burned in agony. He caught the mad grin on Seifer's face and realised he was wearing a similar grin. He almost wiped it away, but stopped himself before he could; there was no one here to hide his honest pleasure from.

Seifer grunted as he straightened, considering his lumber. "You're getting slow, Squally."

Squall snorted and considered his own lumber, eyeing what looked like a crack near the tip a bit suspiciously. "Your memory's going, Almasy."

"Says the one who's actually junctioning," Seifer shot back.

Squall cautiously pushed against the tip of his lumber with his thumb, checking to see if it was actually a crack. "I can get you a GF again, if you want," he offered, trying to keep his voice casual and ignoring the way Seifer stiffened. "Ifrit, since you've always got on so well with him. Or someone stronger, like Alexander."

"Really," Seifer managed, voice sounding a little strangled. "You think I would deserve Alexander? In case you hadn't noticed, Squally, I failed as a Knight."

Squall's hands tightened around his lumber hard enough that he could feel a splinter poke through his leather gloves, just missing stabbing the skin between his first finger and thumb. He took a moment to pull his glove off the splinter, then looked up and met Seifer's tired stare. "You became Knight to a crazed Sorceress that resided generations into our future. It was a fucked situation to begin with, but you stuck with it anyway. I wouldn't call that a failure."

Seifer snorted. "So you're saying it's perfectly fine that I blew up Trabia Garden, terrorised Galbadia, gave Rinoa to Adel, tried to kill you multiple times–"

"I'm saying it was shit and you did the best that you could."

Seifer was suddenly in Squall's space, one hand wrapped around his bicep hard enough to hurt. "I tortured you, Leonhart," he spat, "because I wanted to make you fucking suffer for getting what I never could, and I enjoyed it."

Squall swallowed, and shook away the memory of Seifer motioning for the wall operator to shock him again. He dropped his lumber and grabbed a fistful of Seifer's coat, the black of his glove stark against worn light grey. "I would have rather you tortured me a thousand times if it meant you left the others alone."

Seifer scoffed and loosened his grip, clearly intending to pull away.

Squall snapped up his other hand and caught his fingers on the chain Seifer had always worn, tight against the hollow of his throat. He tugged on it hard, and Seifer's head almost knocked into his when the action pulled him forward. "Tell me this, Seifer Almasy," he hissed, because he knew how Ultimecia thought, after waging a war against her, and there was no way she'd honestly cared what SeeD's purpose was, "if you hadn't tortured me, would she even have bothered throwing us in D-District? Or would we have been executed as the parade after-party?"

Seifer jerked back, eyes going wide.

Squall nodded and let him go. "Thank you," he said, pouring every drop of honesty he could into his voice, "for saving my life."

Seifer stared at him for a heartbeat before he spun and stalked away, towards the lighthouse.

Squall let himself drop to the ground, cradling his head. Honestly, as distasteful as he found the memories of hanging off that wall, it was the kiss in the cell that would always bother him the most. And he hadn't even really realised why it had seemed so utterly wrong until after Rinoa had left for Timber and the world had finally calmed down enough that he wasn't constantly thinking about the war, had a chance to think about the before.

"Squall?" Matron asked, voice worried.

He sighed and looked up. "Sorry. I..." He waved in the direction Seifer had gone. "We were talking about the war." He scrubbed his hands over his face, feeling too old and too tired for his physical age.

The grass folded under Matron's weight as she knelt next to him, gentle hands soothing through his hair. "Which part?" she questioned.

Squall pressed his eyes tighter together, trying to remember if D-District was one of the things that she remembered with any clarity, because he knew there were holes in her memories of the time when she was being possessed, and all of them – Squall, Irvine, Selphie, Quistis, Zell, and even Cid – had agreed to avoid those topics, because Matron had enough weight on her shoulders from horrible things that hadn't been her fault.

Squall wasn't sure if Matron remembered, so he just went for something general: "I think...he wants me to be angry with him, to hate him for...for everything, but..." Squall looked up into her gentle green eyes, familiar in a different way from Seifer's. "I wanted to," he whispered, as though sharing a secret, "when it was all over. But I couldn't– I wasn't even angry with him, just sort of..."

"It's hard," Matron murmured, when Squall couldn't make himself continue, "to hate someone you've loved for a very long time."

"Love?" Squall repeated, feeling very like a lost child.

Matron sighed and kissed his forehead, the action like a memory of all the times Seifer had 'kissed it better'. "All you two had were each other for the longest time." She smiled sadly, and Squall's chest ached at the sight. "You became so close after Ellone left, and Cid said you were always close, in Balamb."

Until Squall had pushed Seifer away. Squall closed his eyes against the burn of tears that he was too old to let fall, dammit. "But...love?" he questioned, caught on that word for a reason he couldn't explain even to himself.

"There are many kinds of love, Squall," Matron told him, her voice sounding pained. He looked up at her and found that sad smile still on her face. "Do you love me?"

Squall blinked, trying to decide if that was the emotion that filled him each time he saw her again after a long absence. "Yes," he decided.

Matron's smile lightened slightly and she cupped his cheek. "I know you worry about your friends, about Rinoa. You want to keep them safe." Squall nodded. "That's a form of love, too."

Squall blinked, still feeling confused.

Matron let out a quiet noise that was somewhere between a sigh and what might have been a sob. "Love is whenever you want to put someone else above yourself. It's when you find yourself wondering after them in quiet moments."

Squall shook his head. "That was never enough for Rinoa," he admitted.

Matron considered that for a moment, her fingers playing with a strand of Squall's hair. "It's not easy," she said, each word careful, "to love someone. Especially if you are so very different. And that's okay. It doesn't make your love any less real, even if it might feel like it." She shook her head. "It can be hard, though, to stay close to someone who loves so much, that they don't always have room for you." She touched Squall's chest, directly over the spot where his heart was thudding away. "I think, that Rinoa wanted to have the largest spot in your heart, but she felt crowded out because you can't help but love everyone." She gave a quiet laugh when Squall made a face. "You're just too strong, my child, and you want to protect everyone who's weaker than you. That's not a bad thing, but it makes it hard, sometimes, to catch your attention."

Squall looked away, down at where his Griever pendant had caught a ray of the late afternoon sunlight. "Seifer's not weaker than me," he murmured, even as that traitorous voice in the back of his head helpfully pointed out, 'He's the only one that can make you drop everything for him, though.'

"That doesn't mean he doesn't need you," Matron replied, voice quiet. When Squall looked up at her, chest aching with something he thought he might, finally, have a name for, she smiled and got to her feet before reaching down a hand to help him up. "Go on," she told him.

Squall didn't need to be told a second time, taking off at an easy jog towards the lighthouse, eyes scanning for any sign of a familiar light grey coat or blond hair.

He found Seifer leaning against the far side of the lighthouse, where the foundation was so worn by the constant movements of the ocean, it looked like a careless push would send it toppling over. Green eyes glanced over at him as he approached, a thick wall standing strong behind them to keep Squall from even being able to guess what Seifer was thinking. "I'm not good company right now, Leonhart," he warned, emotion carefully bleached from his voice.

"You're never good company," Squall replied absently as he carefully leaned back against the crumbling wall next to Seifer.

Seifer's arms flexed and he very obviously pulled them up to his chest and grabbed his biceps, as if to keep himself from grabbing something else. "Go away, Squall," he ordered tightly.

Squall shook his head. "No."

Seifer pushed off against the wall, moving like he was going to leave.

Squall snapped his hand out and caught Seifer's arm, holding tight enough that even the larger gunblader would have trouble shaking him off. "Do you want me to hate you, Seifer?" he asked, keeping his voice gentle, even as his grip was bruising.

Seifer didn't try pulling away, just bowed his head, shoulders hunching.

"I do, you know, for one little thing. One stupid, pointless little moment. It should have meant nothing – I thought it meant nothing – but it meant everything."

He shook Seifer's arm, trying to get the blond man to look back at him, and Seifer did, eyes still guarded. "Why did you kiss me, in that cell?" Squall got out, and it sounded angry – he knew it sounded angry – but he needed anger right now. He suspected they both did.

Seifer flinched, then narrowed his eyes and yanked his arm from Squall's grip. "Why?" he breathed, stepping forward and cornering Squall against the tower. "Because you told me I didn't matter!"

Squall blinked, honestly thrown. "I... What?"

Seifer pressed closer, breath hot against Squall's face, and he snarled, "You told me I was 'just your rival'. I came to fucking apologise for leaving you behind, and you fucking pushed me away!" He wrapped the fingers of one hand in Squall's Griever pendant and tugged against it hard enough that Squall felt the ache of the chain digging into the back of his neck. "I'd made myself forget that, and then I got stuck without Ifrit and I hated you."

Squall reached up and cupped Seifer's face, watched the way green eyes went wide, flickering with confusion. "I hurt you," he whispered. "I can't go back in time, but, maybe..." He swallowed. "Someone told me, once, that when you're hurt, someone just needs to kiss it better."

He pushed up, closing that difference in height that Seifer had already mostly shortened for him, and pressed his lips against Seifer's.

Seifer let out a broken noise and the hand not tangled in Griever's chain grabbed his shoulder.

"You have always," Squall breathed against Seifer's lips, watching the walls break to nothing behind Seifer's eyes, "been the most important person in my life."

Seifer shook his head, eyes broken. "You pushed me away," he insisted, the words shattering against Squall's mouth like broken glass.

Squall closed his eyes. "No," he whispered. "I wanted to be as important to you as you were to me. I– You had friends, two of them, and I thought– I thought that, if we were friends, I wouldn't–"

"You idiot," Seifer breathed, and Squall had the chance to open his eyes for a beat of his heart, before Seifer's hand was threading through his hair and smashing their mouths together, using his grip on Squall's hair to angle his head whichever way he wanted.

Squall let out a whimper, melting against Seifer and grabbing for handholds in his coat. His heart thudded too-quick against his ribs, as though it thought it could break out past them and join Seifer's heart if it just strained a little bit more. And it all felt...strangely right, in a way that the handful of kisses he'd shared with Rinoa never had.

"Stop thinking," Seifer growled against his lips.

"Make me," Squall hissed back.

Seifer responded by shoving his tongue into Squall's mouth, and he had about half a second to think that was a really strange way to make him stop thinking, before Seifer's tongue was licking over the roof of his mouth and his teeth and everything, effectively distracting Squall from anything but trying to track it.

Seifer pulled back without warning, leaving Squall feeling dizzy with want. Teeth caught on a patch of skin near the hinge of his jaw and worried at it roughly enough that it ached, but not in a...bad way. If that made any sense.

(Squall wasn't completely certain it did.)

"You need to tell me no," Seifer breathed against Squall's ear, the words warm and sending a thrill down his spine.

"Why?" Squall gasped out before pressing a kiss against Seifer's jaw.

Seifer let out a sharp sound and tightened his grip in Squall's hair. "Because if you don't, I am going to fuck you, right here, against the lighthouse."

Squall shuddered, his whole body crying out for Seifer to go right ahead, but his thoughts were managing to reorder themselves enough to come up with two very good reasons why this was a bad plan: Matron and Cid.

"No," he whispered, dropping his head forward against Seifer's chest.

Seifer's hand gentled in his hair, soothing through the tufts he'd pulled, and he groaned, "Dammit, Squall."

Squall breathed out what might have been a laugh, and pointed out, "You're the one who told me to tell you no."

"Why couldn't you have gone through puberty before the war?" Seifer complained.

Squall hit him, then shoved against Seifer's chest, trying to get him to back off. "Shut up, Seifer."

Seifer laughed and ducked his head to brush his lips against Squall's before stepping back, giving them both some space. Which Squall, at least, appreciated, closing his eyes and relaxing back against the wall behind him, trying to get his brain back into some semblance of working order.

"Am I more important than Sis?" Seifer asked, and Squall peeked his eyes open to consider the very open and impossibly young expression the blond wore.

"Yes," Squall replied simply. Then, when that didn't seem to be enough, offered, "I know where she is, now. I hunted you down instead."

Seifer smirked at that, looking more like himself, and smoothed a hand back through his own hair. "Well, of course."

"Don't be an ass," Squall ordered as he let his eyes fall shut again. He felt...strangely at peace, compared to how he usually felt around Seifer. But, then again, he was usually fighting with Seifer, so perhaps the change wasn't so strange.

A hand brushed his chest before a familiar weight eased, and Squall looked down to find Griever in Seifer's hand. He glanced up at green eyes, trying to judge what Seifer was thinking about, and coming up empty. "What?" he murmured.

"I got this for you."

Squall swallowed against the answer to a question he hadn't even realised he'd still had; Seifer dropping Griever into the stream in the Training Centre was one of the few memories Squall had never lost to his GFs. It had made him angry, without the context of the conversation that had come before, but he'd never forgotten that Griever had been Seifer's first. "I spent four hours trying to get it," he admitted. "I wanted to know what you'd dropped."

Seifer's throat bobbed and he looked up at Squall. "It matched your stupid ring."

Squall looked down at the faint bump under his glove where his ring rested, comfortable even when he was gripping his gunblade with that hand. He reached back and touched the handle of Lion Heart, hearing the familiar sound of the charm he'd transferred each time he bought a better gunblade. "I wasn't going to get a gunblade, but the Balamb shop had that special edition version of Revolver with Griever on it, and I..."

Seifer snorted. "So you weren't trying to copy me?"

Squall rolled his eyes, remembering well the way Seifer had mocked him when he'd returned to Garden with Revolver. "No. But it was still your fault."

Seifer grinned at that, clearly pleased. "Did I ever tell you why I picked the gunblade?" he asked, tone superior.

"Probably."

Seifer tugged lightly on Griever. "It was that film that came out when we were kids, The Sorceress's Knight."

Squall blinked. "Sir Zefer?" he murmured, remembering fighting the ruby dragon as Laguna on set.

"That was his name!" Seifer said, as though he could never remember it. Squall must have made some sort of face, because Seifer tugged on Griever again and grumbled, "You don't get to laugh at my spotty memory, Squally."

Squall shook his head. "No, it's just... Zefer was played by Laguna. My father."

Seifer stared at him for a moment before he let out a snort. "Of course. You know, that film's the reason I wanted to become a Sorceress's Knight, too."

Squall grimaced, nearly certain he could guess what Laguna's response to that fact would be. "We're never going to tell him that."

Seifer's fingers disentangled from Griever's chain and his hand smoothed up Squall's chest, coming to a stop just over his heart. " 'We', Squally?"

Squall swallowed, heart thudding against Seifer's hand, and forced his voice to be casual as he said, "I assumed you might want to meet your idol at least once."

Seifer smirked. "You mean you're not asking me to come meet your parents?" he teased.

Squall shoved at him, gentle enough that he knew it wouldn't actually make Seifer move. "Don't be an ass. You've already met my parents."

Seifer's eyes flickered to one side, in the general direction of the orphanage, and his expression eased. "The ones that actually matter," he agreed in a voice that was the exact opposite of innocent before leaning in and brushing his lips against Squall's.

"Do I need to tell you no again?" Squall murmured even as he reached up to grip Seifer's coat and pull him closer.

"Probably," Seifer decided before pressing his mouth to Squall's firmly, keeping him from doing so.

"Boys!" Cid called from back by the house, saving them from themselves.

Seifer let out a regretful breath against Squall's lips before pulling back far enough that Squall had to let go of his coat. He very obviously tugged it straight and brushed it down.

Squall snorted and pushed away from the lighthouse. He gave himself a minute to run his hands through his hair and ensure Griever fell straight against his chest, then nodded at Seifer. Seifer nodded back and they turned to walk back to the stone house, easily finding their stride to keep side-by-side.

"Are you coming back to Balamb?" Squall heard himself ask as Cid waved at them and started into the house.

"Will I be welcome?" Seifer replied, sounding almost...hopeful.

Squall remembered what he'd said when he'd found Seifer, about how he'd return to the orphanage if he didn't feel welcome at Balamb; Garden would always be home, more than this crumbling cape with faded childhood memories. "We're always looking for non-SeeD building security who aren't afraid of being surrounded by armed and capable students," he offered.

Seifer grabbed his arm, stopping him, and gave him a look. "That's not what I meant, Squall."

Squall sighed; he knew. "I don't know," he admitted quietly. "We don't... You never come up." Or, at least, no one ever mentioned Seifer where Squall could hear. Considering their shared history and Seifer's part in the war, Squall would be surprised if his friends didn't talk about Seifer from time to time. He shook his head and eyed Seifer's frown. "Can you trust me to handle any issues that arise?"

Seifer snorted. "What are you going to do, order them to be nice?"

Squall considered that. "I could," he mused.

Seifer let out a rough laugh. "Leonhart, you can't order your friends to be nice to me," he insisted, voice amused.

"You mean I shouldn't," Squall guessed, and Seifer snorted again. Squall rolled his eyes and reached up to smooth his hand down Seifer's waistcoat. "Can you trust me to handle them?" he asked again seriously.

Seifer stared at him for a long moment, thoughts flashing behind his eyes rapidly enough that Squall didn't even bother trying to read them.

"Yes," Seifer decided at least, before making a face and admitting, "I'll try to keep from making things worse."

Squall snorted. "Don't bother. I have no interest in handling heart attacks on top of your return." He gently extracted his arm from Seifer's grasp while the blond laughed, and shoved him towards the open door of the house. "Come on. We're making Matron and Cid wait."

-0-

+1 Time Squall Kissed Seifer (Part II of II)

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