Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction ❯ Protecting the Lion ❯ Winter Planning Begins ( Chapter 42 )

Chapter Forty-Two

Winter Planning Begins

 

That Saturday turned into one big group activity.

 

Together on a beach, it felt like old times. Squall, Seifer, Irvine, Selphie, Zell, and Quistis. Everyone wound up dropping his or her plans for the day and skipping off to the beach.

 

The only difference was that they were much older and Matron wasn't there to call them in for dinner.

 

It was cloudy, the sun hidden behind the building grayish white puffs of condensing water vapor. No one ventured too close to the frigid water, since they were likely to be tossed in as a joke.

 

While there was no snow on the ground at sea level, but it was still freezing with the constant offshore winds. In a few days there would probably be a bout of unusually warm weather, or something to compensate the early coming of winter.

 

Among the group was a mixture of those who enjoyed the cold seasons and those who hated it.

 

Zell and Selphie both preferred spring and summer, and refused to dress any more warmly than usual, even though their knees were practically buckling with the shivers.

 

Seifer was rather impassive about it, he never really cared what season it was. Although, the blond was quite enjoying the subtle delight that shone in the stormy eyes of his little lion.

 

Winter was definitely Squall's favorite season. It was the only time that he could be surrounded by snow without being asleep.

 

Quistis and Irvine weren't partial to the cold, but enjoyed the colorful changes in autumn and the holidays of winter.

 

At some point, they all began to build a sand castle.

 

It had started with Selphie, who was preoccupied with her open staring at Squall and Seifer. Crouching on the sand, she'd been absently mounding a pile up while avidly waiting to see them kiss again. This some how turned into a group effort and serious project.

 

It wasn't exactly easy though, the sand was dry, and they were reluctant to work with wet sand, lest they develop frost bite.

 

In the end, even their expertise was no match for the crumbling of dry grains.

 

As the afternoon wore on, the band of fighters settled down from their hours of childish play. They called it quits when Zell came running down from at least half a mile up towards Garden, carrying a snowball. Starting a snowball fight without any snow was just too tiring for anyone to manage. Even Selphie plopped down into the sand, unable to find enough energy to copy Zell's actions and seek revenge for the snow in her hair.

 

Seifer had been feeling concerned about Squall's increasingly aloof behavior. At first, he'd thought that it was because of the kiss in the cafeteria. But, he soon realized that something had been bothering the brunet for the passed couple days. It was Laguna, or so he concluded.

 

The Commander hadn't mentioned anything except for the President's name, but Seifer knew it was weighing heavily on the overly analytical young man's mind.

 

Copper brown hair fell forward as Selphie rest her forehead against her bent knees. Hugging her shins, she tried to warm up a little. The soft ruffling of material didn't register until she felt a warm coat draped over her shoulders. Her hair bounced as she looked up.

 

Irvine stood tall, a small smile in place. Winking at the small woman swimming in his coat, he deftly folded his long limbs and sat closely beside her. With his long sleeved deep purple shirt he was fine without his trench coat.

 

“Thanks,” Selphie muttered shyly, forcing herself not to grin like a maniac.

 

With Irvine so close to her left side, and wearing his coat, she could smell the cowboy's cologne. Ignoring the warmth that came, not from body heat or the garment, Selphie pulled the coat shut and held it closed with her hands.

 

Quistis followed the unofficial couple's lead, taking a seat on the bubbly girl's other side. With the general idea in place, Zell sat down beside her as well.

 

“We haven't done this in a while,” the spiky haired blond exclaimed, stretching his hands above his head before furling up in the same manner as his three friends.

 

Seifer, who absolutely refused to sit pressed against Kinneas, battled with himself for a moment. Obviously the group had made some tacit decision to stay awhile longer and simply sit together.

 

The nostalgia that the blond felt was the only reason he didn't take Squall's hand and trek back to Balamb. Perhaps taking a rest and simply staring out into the ocean was exactly what Squall needed, to clear the over occupied mind.

 

Resigning to his fate, Seifer walked to the other end of the group, choosing Chicken-wuss over Cowboy. Naturally, he tugged the Commander along with him, lest the stubborn lion choose to spite him and cozy up to the gunman.

 

Taking a seat on the less than comfortable sand, Seifer had his long coat spread beneath him.

 

“Seifer,” Squall spoke the name with a reluctant tone. The blond made to pull him down and take a place pressed back against the knight's body.

 

“Come on, it's cold,” the doting bond supplied. Unable to make Squall talk to him, he could at least let the quiet boy know that he was there. Touching was the best way to do this, especially if he couldn't use words.

 

With Squall between his legs, he hugged the smaller man close to his chest. Soft strands of hair tickled his chin as the wind blew.

 

“Well, aren't you two adorable,” Zell commented. He was a bit uncomfortable with the proximity in which the couple was acting like a couple.

 

“Shut it Chicken-wuss,” Seifer shot back, holding Squall tighter.

 

As weird as it felt to be intimate with Seifer around everyone else, Squall didn't protest any further. It was warm and comfortable, and with the sound of the waves and blustering breeze, he felt like he could have fallen asleep right then. Calm and soothing, his mind didn't feel quite so scrambled. Yet, this in itself presented him with even more problems.

 

Trying to sort through so many different feelings, none of which he was used to having, Squall didn't find complete solace in the protecting embrace of the blond knight.

 

The only way Squall could describe how he felt was to compare it to when he'd first junctioned Shiva. He'd been sixteen, and the Ice Queen was his first Guardian Force. Without many solid facts gathered about the otherworldly beings, Squall had hardly trusted the books he'd read and lectures he'd learned from. Each time, he never kept the Guardian junctioned for more than a day. There had been this constant fear, or worry, that with the unnatural presence of the creature in his head, that his mind would be consumed or taken over.

 

Now, as his thoughts constantly lingered on the blond knight, he felt the same way. He felt as though he was changing. It was like he wasn't himself any more. Regardless of his confident words to Quistis the other night, he felt as though he was a completely different person.

 

Unable to stay angry, Squall felt as though he were becoming vulnerable and weak. He couldn't resist the blond man at all. From a heated look to a spine tingling touch, he couldn't refuse Seifer. For Hyne's sake, he couldn't even sleep in his own bed without Seifer there. It was a frightening weakness, one that he wanted to get rid of, but at the same time wanted more of.

 

If Seifer knew the extent of his weakness, would the blond use it against him? He knew the answer to that without even thinking about it. `Of course not,' he concluded lamely. That was another problem, his inexplicable trust. Even with a terrible track record, he was willing to relax back into the warm body behind him, completely exposed but trusting that nothing bad would come from it.

 

Frowning, Squall stared out into the vast waters, mulling over the torrents of inconclusive facts he'd gathered. Self-analysis was not his forte.

 

“I still think it's really weird,” Zell said, cutting through Squall's thoughts.

 

Turning his head, Squall looked to the spiky haired fighter. With a craning glance to the knight behind him, he wondered what sort of couple they seemed like. He didn't know when it had become normal. After only a few days, it was odd that everything seemed to progress and fall into place so naturally.

 

“I gotta say though Squall, ever since you became famous, you've made being gay normal,” Zell spoke again, still dealing with the news.

 

“I'm not gay, exactly,” Squall replied evenly, not sure if he wanted to be labeled as gay, or if the word did actually apply. He wasn't with Seifer because he liked men, although if all anal sex was as good as it was with Seifer, then he might have to reconsider his preference. He'd found women attractive, by looks only. And it was hardly ever more than an appreciative glance.

 

“Not you, I meant other people, other guys. I mean, you're pretty good looking, and half your fan mail is from men,” the energetic boxer continued thoughtfully.

 

“Does Zell have a crush?” Seifer mocked, giving the hyperactive man a warning glare.

 

Jumping to the defensive right away, Zell replied, “No way man! I just make a lot of money off it.”

 

“What?” Seifer remarked, his tone suspecting and angry.

 

“Well, a lot of the guys aren't really gay, but they can't help looking, and well, they're too macho to be open about it. So, that's where I come in, you wouldn't believe how much a good picture of you can sell for. One time, there was this congressman who paid me two thousand gil, just to get him-”

 

Whack

 

Zell was cut off with a slap upside the head from the over protective ex-knight.

 

“Dincht, if I so much as see you with a camera in the vicinity of Leonhart, I'll string up by your-” Seifer began to warn, deadly serious, but was cut off. The sharp pinch to his thigh stopped him short of finishing the threat.

 

“Seifer,” Squall hissed, keeping his hand on the blond's thigh, in case he needed to give another pinch.

 

As much as Selphie wanted to find her usual interest in the Commander's unusual display of affection, she couldn't. Beside her, Irvine had been staring longingly at Squall for some time. Retreating from the outside world, she chose to ignore it all and sulk silently. It hurt, but there was nothing she could do.

 

Quistis, who seemed more apt to picking up on the high-strung emotions coursing through each person around her, changed the subject. “So, the Winter Festival is coming up,” she prompted the subject.

 

Hazel-green eyes blinked, slowly focusing back to the real world and snapping from the internal reverie they were in. Ignoring the groans given by Seifer and Irvine, Selphie brightened. “I have the plans all drawn up!” she cheered merrily, temporarily forgetting her unrequited love.

 

Seifer, having groaned and sent an annoyed glared towards the Head Instructor, buried his face into the junction of a warm neck. Against the soft material of the brunet's turtleneck shirt, he gave a small cry of exasperation. Lifting his head just enough to make his words clear, he asked, “Do I seriously need to be involved in any of it?”

 

“Yup,” Selphie affirmed, giving that eerie tone of happiness but also of an undeniable threat.

 

“What if I let you watch me `n princess make out?” the knight questioned, half serious about the proposal. He felt the suddenly tense nature in which Squall reacted to his suggestion. With a soft chuckle, he whispered heatedly into the Commander's ear, “Joking, joking.” The small tremor given off by the pale man in his hold, only served to send a tremor of his own straight to his groin. It was too bad they weren't alone.

 

Scoffing, Selphie pointed out, “Squall would never let you do that.”

 

“This will be the first Winter Festival you've thrown for Balamb, are you going to set things up like you did in Trabia?” Quistis asked, thinking about the student's midterm exam schedules.

 

“Yeah, a week long celebration that'll lead up to one big night. I have the floor plans and activities drawn up, and I want to start setting everything up next week.” Selphie began to divulge excitedly.

 

“But, its November,” Zell reminded, rubbing his hands together. It was hard to ignore the cozy couple beside him, and even harder not to run into town and get a camera. He could make a living off of selling pictures of Squall. He hadn't known how lucrative it could be until he'd sold copies of the pictures from the Commander's stalker to Nida. It was just too bad that he ended up turning down half the offers. He'd be rich if he didn't have a conscience. Any bad vibes from a deal and he couldn't bring himself to complete it.

 

“Yes, which means we only have a month to prepare,” the copper haired girl announced officially. She wished she'd brought her laptop with her, then she could show everyone the layouts she'd constructed. She was determined to make this the best festival she'd ever assembled.

 

Irvine tore his violet-eyed gaze from a frowning Commander. The excitement that radiated off of the small fighter beside him was infectious. He smiled against his wont, becoming amused regardless of his inner turmoil. “As long as you aren't cooking or handling any explosives, then I don't mind helping out,” he drawled amicably.

 

“Good, cause you didn't have a choice anyway,” Selphie affirmed.

 

Sullenly, Seifer questioned, “We aren't going to be the only ones doing this, are we?”

 

“No, we need a lot more manpower,” Quistis commented. The heels of her knee-highs were digging into the sand. She hoped that the grains didn't manage to get stuck in the zippers' crevices.

 

“Squall,” Selphie said with an overly friendly pronunciation.

 

Before the constantly cheerful girl could continue, Squall replied, “I already spoke with FH's team two weeks ago, they're looking forward to building whatever you want.”

 

With delighted laughter, Selphie kicked her feet up and down, thumping her heals over and over again into the sand. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried, “I love you Squall, you're the best!”

 

Squall was again struck by that word, that ridiculous word. Feeling as though he'd been slapped, he fell quiet and didn't respond to the elated young woman's joyful exclamation. It wasn't that he doubted Selphie, or even that he took her meaning literally, but he resented the ease with which she was able to make such a remark. It was as though she didn't need to second-guess herself. To his growing dismay, it seemed as though most people didn't struggle over the simple word. Yet, this speed bump was like some mountain to him.

 

“What's wrong?” Seifer whispered discretely in the brunet's ear.

 

Turning to stare out at the ocean again, Squall squinted against the wind that suddenly picked up. “Nothing,” he mumbled, unconsciously squirming deeper into the warmth behind him.

 

Seifer frowned, but didn't press the matter. Something was definitely on Squall's mind, and the stubborn man wouldn't tell him. He'd wait until they were alone to pry it out of the brunet. Although, he would much prefer it if Squall, the man he'd professed his love to, told him without having to walk across broken glass.

 

With a sigh, Seifer focused his attention elsewhere. “So, Tilmitt, what exactly am I supposed to do? Does it include watching Squall up on a ladder?”

 

Giggling, Selphie pictured just that. Squall stringing streamers with a gleaming eyed Seifer holding the ladder and ogling the Commander's famous ass. “That could be arranged, for a price.” Her amusement fell short when she leaned forward and saw the reclusive expression on the Commander's pale face. Squall had already cut himself off, somewhere between her thanking him and Seifer joking with her.

 

Sobering up a bit, Selphie reminded herself that when Squall got like that, there was no bringing him back. So, she'd just have to share her enthusiasm with everyone else. Directing her attention to the blond knight, she answered his question in a serious manner. “Rumor has it that you're pretty good with explosives. I myself can make a pretty mean pipe bomb, but since no one will let me,” she paused to send a glare to each head she could see, “I wanted you to arrange the fireworks.”

 

“Seriously?” Seifer asked, the relief in his voice evident. He'd been afraid she was going to have him dressed up as Santa Klaus or Jack Frost.

 

“Wait,” Irvine interjected, staring pleading down at the girl beside him. “Almasy gets to play with fire, while I have to tap dance?” he asked incredulously.

 

“That's such a great idea, I forgot that you could tap dance,” Selphie exclaimed, completely ignoring the unwilling tone in which the gunman had posed his question.

 

Groaning, Irvine remained silent, not wanting to dig his hole even deeper.

 

“You'll help out in the kitchens, won't you Squall?” Selphie asked, pressing her luck by treading on the precarious ground of disturbing the brunet's deep thoughts.

 

“Huh?” Squall sounded, stirring after a delayed moment.

 

“I think Greta can handle it,” Zell commented in an all-knowing manner.

 

While Quistis adjusted her glasses, she pointed out, “Not for so many people at once.”

 

“Not to mention over such a long period of time. I imagine we'll need more staff in the kitchens,” Selphie said, nodding in agreement with her own words, as she was oft to do.

 

“You lost me,” Zell said while rubbing his arms.

 

With a roll of hazel-green eyes, Selphie explained, “The whole week is going to have special meals.”

 

“It's cold,” Zell commented, losing interest in the conversation abruptly.

 

As the spiky haired fighter's words fell on deaf ears, Quistis voiced her main concern about the whole ordeal. “What about exams. We can't have distractions.”

 

“Only you would have a problem with that Trepe,” Seifer commented wryly. He was only paying attention to half of what was being said. Having found out that he wasn't going to have to do anything ridiculous or embarrassing, he lost interest.

 

“I'm serious,” the bright-eyed instructor persisted, ignoring the ex-knight's comment. “What time frame are we talking about Selphie? Is this a holiday thing or a winter break thing?”

 

“Quisty,” Selphie whined, “I'm an instructor too, ya know?” Leaning forward she drew lines in the sand with an index finger. Pouting she said, “I'm hurt that you don't have faith in me.”

 

Chuckling softly, Quistis pointed out the obvious again. “Selphie, you're an arsonist with a disturbing amount of knowledge of what makes everything tick. You're the most free-spirited person I know, and if you attracted as much trouble as Squall did, then none of us would be here right now. I somehow doubt that midterms would stop you from throwing a party.”

 

“Was that a compliment or an insult,” Selphie questioned, not reacting since she seriously couldn't tell.

 

“It's really cold,” Zell commented again.

 

“Then have Seifer hold you, since he seems to enjoy it so much,” Irvine said bit out in reply to the shorter blond fighter.

 

“Now, now Kinneas,” Seifer admonished. “What did I tell you when you tried to play with my toy truck?”

 

The gunman gave a faint growl before falling silent again.

 

Selphie, who was actually thinking back on the matter, straightened up while voicing the answer to the rhetorical question. “Umm,” she sounded, shutting one eye and sticking her tongue out in concentrated thinking. “It's mine, you can't touch it,” she stated with a questioning tone.

 

Seifer rolled his eyes at Tilmitt's antics. He wasn't sure if the fact that she was being serious should concern him or not. “Close Tilmitt, but I believe I told the cowboy to back off,” he spoke in a harsh manner, enunciating that last couple words to make his message clear.

 

Scoffing Irvine held his tongue. Whatever quips he might have used would only serve to insult Squall just as much as they would Seifer. There was no goading the blond about any of it, without taking into account that Squall was in the relationship willingly.

 

“Can we go back?” Zell asked, tugging on Quistis' sleeve.

 

“It is rather cold,” the instructor commented as though the spiky haired fighter next to her hadn't been complaining.

 

“What time is it?” Selphie asked.

 

Standing up, Zell bounced from foot to foot. The sudden loss of body heat was noticeable. With a quick glance to the watch on his wrist, he said, “It's quarter of six.”

 

“Ah!” Selphie exclaimed, shooting up from the ground. Before she could explain her reaction, she rubbed her butt and said, “My butt's numb.”

 

Snickering at the copper haired girl's oddball personality, Quistis stood as well. “Are we doing anything tonight?” she asked, wondering if their hanging out was just a beach trip deal, or if they were going to spend the night together.

 

Taking off the oversized brown trench coat, Selphie handed it with a thankful smile to the gunman. Blowing on her hands, she said, “I have to get back and see Rui. I told him we'd meet later, at seven.”

 

“I wanted to see Rui too,” Squall reminded the chipper young woman, finally breaking from his silent musing.

 

“Then we should get going,” Selphie replied.

 

Seifer released his hold on the brunet reluctantly, but swiftly enough to not cause suspicion. With the biting cold, he suspected that the loss of warmth wasn't just physical. His concerned gaze followed Squall's movements. Whatever was eating away at the brunet was also eating away at him.