Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction ❯ Strings Attached ❯ How Rumors Start ( Chapter 7 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Chapter Seven
How Rumors Start
 
Seifer watched for a few seconds before reaching his limit. The still troubled Commander was brooding in solitude again, despite not actually being alone. Head bowed so that choppy bangs masked the already guarded face of the brunet, Squall tucked his darkly clad form into itself.
 
Unable to take being ignored, he reached out and quickly pressed the emergency stop button on the elevator's panel.
 
From a distant position reclining into the corner of the elevator, Squall raised his head. Looking with mild surprise at the knight, he quickly schooled his features and regarded the tall man impassively.
 
With rising anger, Seifer balled his fists and forced himself not to lash out. Squall ignored other people, but not him. Squall kept himself guarded around everyone, except him. He would not accept this behavior, not with what they were now.
 
“It was a potion, just one,” Seifer said, standing straight with his arms crossed in a confronting manner.
 
Narrowing his gray-blue eyes, Squall looked up and mimicked the knight's stance. The fact that he was significantly shorter didn't seem to minimize the effect. “We don't use items like that,” he spoke softly, his voice dropping a note to impress the importance of understanding.
 
Scoffing, Seifer pointed out, “Those are crap rules that only SeeD follow. You think they're selling this stuff in towns so civilians can mend battle wounds?”
 
“We're not civilians,” Squall pointed out.
 
“We are when we're in the bedroom,” Seifer shot back.
 
Frowning, Squall continued to glare, not humoring the blond with a response.
 
“I don't get it Leonhart, you've never been such a stickler for rules. What are you afraid of, that the other Commanders are gonna find out you like it rough and need a minor healing now and then?”
 
“…”
 
Glaring right back at the pretty boy Commander, Seifer spoke again, “Trust me sweet cheeks, they're not going to give a flying fuck about that minor detail once they hear you like it up the ass.”
 
“Stop being so vulgar about it, you ass,” Squall hissed defensively. He'd never really had any bias about choice in sex, but when Seifer phrased it like that he couldn't help but feel like it was a bad thing.
 
Lips drawn thinner in a frown, Seifer ran a frustrated hand through his hair, dislodging several well kempt pieces to fall across his forehead. “Well, unless you get over this issue with the strict usage of every damn potion, then I'm not willing to have nights like last night. It may be your body, but I'm the one doin' it to you.”
 
Squall had been growing more furious every moment. Seifer was completely missing his reasons for being so angry, and try as he might, he couldn't simply let it be and give the man time to figure it out. “You're right, it's my body!” he half shouted, “When you want to do something to it, you'd better ask me first, cocky bastard!”
 
Reaching around the knight, Squall pulled the stop button out and resumed his reclusive stance against the wall. Face averted to the small floor, he refused to acknowledge Seifer's presence for the time being.
 
Before Seifer could retort, the arriving ding sounded and the doors opened.
 
The secretary looked up from behind thick-framed glasses with surprise at seeing the Commander.
 
Squall wondered if Quistis had perhaps come in, in place of himself. “Is the Head Instructor in?”
 
“No sir,” the black haired woman responded.
 
“Hold all calls,” Squall requested, knowing he'd have mountains of paper work without having to deal with anything else.
 
“Yes sir,” the older woman agreed readily.
 
“Joy,” Seifer intoned depressingly as he trailed not a foot behind the Commander, “Another day of fun.”
 
Seifer was pleased to see a knowing smile grace the secretary's lips. Alice Mayer was her name, if he recalled correctly. Before they reached the ornate double doors, he remembered something. Dropping back, he backtracked towards the dark haired woman.
 
Alice Mayer, the Headmaster's secretary since the war's end, gazed expectantly up at Ultimecia's ex-knight. She understood his position at Balamb Garden, so in all professionalism she couldn't outwardly express dislike for what the man was. Besides, after watching the miraculous changes in the Headmaster, she was actually a bit grateful.
 
“Mind placing an order for breakfast?” Seifer questioned, casting an unarming smile down at the seated woman.
 
Fighting the instinctive blush that came with being the focus of that charming smile, Alice replied as evenly as she could, “Not at all. For two?”
 
“No, just princ-” he coughed in correction, “just the anorexic one.”
 
Stifling her laughter, lest the Headmaster hear her, she simply smiled silently and gave a curt nod. She'd never heard anyone refer to the Balamb Lion by so many different nick names, none of which she would dare repeat even a continent far away for fear of Mr. Leonhart finding out.
 
“Yes sir,” she agreed.
 
For brief moment Seifer was going to carry through with the urge to direct her to refer to him as sir, but he figured it really didn't matter. “Thanks,” he said in parting.
 
In his office, Squall was already absorbed in the first twenty paged, single-spaced, small font report. Was it really necessary to write in such detail about a scouting mission? It hadn't even been a successful one, the tip off turning out to be bogus.
 
Why did he need to read all these anyway? Being both Commander and Headmaster meant that he sent SeeDs on all the missions in the first place, and then read tedious reports that were sent to inform the Headmaster on the results. If he sent them to begin with, why did he need to read the details if he already knew it all? Aside from redundant, it was mind numbingly boring.
 
Seifer glanced around the room, not at all happy to see the workaholic sitting behind the desk miles away.
 
Sulking in a most decidedly childish manner, the blond knight huffed indignantly and flopped down on the plush leather couch that sat against the wall adjacent to the large window behind Squall. While the cushions were quite soft, he found it difficult to picture Squall sitting there a lot. It was after a moment that he recalled how the brunet had hardly left the office, which meant a few hours here and there spent sleeping on this very couch.
 
Scoffing at his thoughts, Seifer sent an unnoticed glare to the rosy lipped, pretty boy behind the mahogany desk. As if making an action of ignoring Seifer, Squall flipped to the next page.
 
Didn't it take time to become absorbed in material? How could someone just waltz in and start working right away? What ever happened to casually skimming while sipping a morning cup of coffee?
 
Refusing to participate in anything that involved a thick, stapled stack of papers with a secretive title of numbers, he reclined into the couch. Maybe after he'd had sufficient time to cool his head he'd help out, but he doubted that would come when he'd have to force feed his anorexic charge in a matter of minutes.
 
He pushed the sleeves of his forest green sweater up for no good reason and crossed his legs impatiently. Smoothing out the creases in his black slacks, he continued to think about anything that might distract him for a few moments.
 
It wasn't that he'd expected to stop fighting all the time, that was part of the appeal. Opposites attract, or so the saying went. If he and Squall suddenly got along, it wouldn't be nearly as much fun. Still, he didn't like holding grudges or any long term shit like that. Usually they had it out in the Training Center and moved on.
 
What was with Squall anyway? Yes, he'd known that using the potion would have been against the Commander's wishes, but what was he supposed to have done? The poor kitten would have barely been able to walk, which was something a couple of pain pills wouldn't mend.
 
Maybe he should go to Deling City and check out a few sex books, just to make sure he was doing it right or to read up on where the limits should be set.
 
With a sigh, he crossed his arms and sunk deeper into the cushions. Chin tucked in, he stared at the guarded brunet. Squall had made a fuss over not being asked first, which begged the question, “If I'd asked first, would you have agreed?”
 
Hesitant at first, Squall stopped reading and mulled the ex-knight's words over seriously. Truthfully, he would have protested the idea stubbornly. But, Seifer had never let his protests stand in the way. “No,” he replied honestly, “But you wouldn't have let that stop you.”
 
“No, I would have done it anyway.” Seifer nodded in agreement. When gray-blue eyes seemed to linger on his, waiting for him to say something further, or perhaps just realize something, he paused for thought. It was like putting the puzzle together, everything was always a puzzle with Squall. Frowning, Seifer gave Squall a look of uncertainty, wondering if he really was supposed to be looking more deeply into this or if the younger man was just stringing him along.
 
Rubbing his temple, Squall sighed. If he had to align the pieces for Seifer then he would. And the knight had the gall to call him oblivious. “If I wanted to use Hyperion, would I just take it and go off to fight in the Center?”
 
Scoffing, Seifer refuted as though coming upon the right answer, “No, you'd never use my blade when you're so in love with that neon beauty of yours.”
 
Squall bit his lip and forced himself to keep a straight face. Allowing himself the therapeutic mannerism of pinching the bridge of his nose, the pale Commander sighed. “Hypothetically speaking, if I were to not have Lionheart at my disposal and wanted a good blade. Would I take yours and make off with it?”
 
“I'd kick your ass for that,” Seifer assured reasonably.
 
“Why?” Squall prompted, hoping this game of feeding the knight's clues ended before he lost all respect for the man.
 
“Hyperion's mine, get your own,” the blond chastised as though actually experiencing the hypothetical situation.
 
“I don't touch what's yours without permission. So, you can imagine that waking up after you've fled the scene only to realize you unknowingly gave me a potion pisses me off,” he growled out.
 
Leaning forward Seifer raised his hands as if to wrangle that thin neck, which at any other time he'd prefer to be kissing. “You needed the damn potion!” he shouted. He was growing tired of repeating himself.
 
“I never said I didn't!” Squall shot back with equaled annoyance at their circular arguing. “Dammit Almasy! You have to ask me first!”
 
Standing up, Seifer strode closer. Rounding the desk, he roughly pushed the swiveling chair around and hovered over the relaxed form. “This is about asking first?” he questioned.
 
Rolling his eyes, Squall just shot a look up at the blond that implied it was elementary.
 
A lopsided grin betrayed Seifer's angry state. Though he still tried to be intimidating, as he overbearingly placed his hands on the armrests and leaned dangerously close. “This isn't about the potion?”
 
“…”
 
“Why didn't you say so?”
 
Sardonically regarding jade eyes, Squall quipped, “It was a test of competence.”
 
“Competence?” Seifer intoned incredulously. “I showered alone because of incompetence?”
 
Suppressing a chuckle at the knight's insulted tone, Squall remembered that he was still royally pissed. “Do it again and I'll make sure I never become injured in such a manner again,” he warned, adding emphasis with a hand cupping Seifer's groin.
 
“Vixen,” Seifer accused. He tensed visibly when Squall squeezed his package slightly. Not wanting to see just how serious the Commander might become, he admitted defeat, “Permission first, I got it.”
 
With an approving nod, quite content that he'd technically won the argument, Squall gave a gentle grope to the knight's genitals before removing his hand.
 
Seifer started a bit at the fondling, knowing the Commander hadn't meant to start anything, but that message didn't quite relay far enough south to head off the blood flow.
 
Swiveling the chair to face the window, and away from any surprise visitors, Seifer bent closer and kissed the Commander.
 
“Seifer,” Squall hissed while jerking his head back. The office doors weren't even locked, not to mention there was somebody sitting right outside.
 
“What?” the blond questioned innocently, just like a little boy covered in mud while dressed in his Sunday best.
 
Pouting at the knight's lack of consideration, Squall turned his head to the side and reminded, “No exhibition.”
 
Sighing exasperatedly, the green-eyed knight caringly clasped the brunet's chin and turned that pretty face his way. “I don't make a habit of putting on shows when I'm kissing the man I love.”
 
Blushing mildly, Squall felt himself lost in the heavily meaningful tone and begging jade eyes. “If someone walks in-”
 
“Then the rumor mill catches wind and we'll be on our way to the next baby step we've been talking about.”
 
“Seifer, this is the Headmaster's office,” Squall reminded.
 
“Yeah, I've always wanted to do it in here.” With a grin, he assured, “But I won't do much more than kiss you.”
 
Squall seemed to carry on an intense internal debate. He'd been here for little over ten minutes and he already felt like gouging his eyes out with the letter opener rather than reading another report. A few kisses and gropes might serve as a pleasant distraction, a five-minute break or something like that.
 
Raising his head, Squall leaned forward slightly, still seated in his high backed chair, which hid him from view of the doorway.
 
Seifer figured there was nothing like settling an argument with a kiss, though he could think of a few other things he'd also like to seal the deal with. It was understandable where Squall was coming from on the potion thing, but he'd never admit to that. Instead, he'd simply let the threat of castration sway him in favor of the brunet. Besides, when he seriously managed to anger the kitten like that, the rampant fire in steely gray eyes did wonders for boiling his blood and completely turning him on.
 
Braced by the armrests once again, Seifer bent close and captured those plush red lips. They were warm and pliant against his own as he nibbled slightly on the bottom one. There still seemed hesitancy about Squall, when he tried to deepen it. That only meant he wasn't doing a good enough job of warming the ice prince up.
 
For his height it was a minor strain to lean down so much, but his mind was hardly occupied by such a tedious matter. Raising his knee, he rubbed at Squall's lap in a hinting manner until the brunet spread for him.
 
Keenly aware of Squall's dislike for even a simple touch while in public, Seifer figured that he had a little more time before that order for breakfast arrived, and then he'd have to back off before he caused yet another fight.
 
The response he wanted was given more than willingly as he rubbed encouragingly with his knee. Moaning, the brunet opened up for him, disregarding the depth of the kiss.
 
Try as he might, Squall could not keep his senses about himself. He thought he'd started to develop some sort of stamina for it, no longer the touch starved virgin. But as soon as Seifer snaked a tongue into his mouth, reason slipped from his grasp. It was wet and hot, slick and sweet. Tilting his head to the side a bit he angled himself to allow Seifer as much access as needed.
 
It took Seifer less than a second to take advantage of the better angle. He wanted to reach his hands up and cup smooth cheeks, but refrained. He wanted to see if the chair reclined far enough in a horizontal manner that he could climb atop the sweet tasting Commander, but he refrained. The one thing he could do without restraint was to twine their tongues together and mesh their lips together with bruising fervor.
 
There was a startling clank of dinnerware that brought the beautifully passionate moment to a screeching halt. Even Seifer felt a pang of fear at being caught, but that was a mixture of Squall's projected feelings and the fact that he'd probably be taking the rap for this one.
 
Scrunching his eyes together as he sadly broke away from Squall, Seifer stood up. His eyes found a young cadet who looked frozen in her place. Carrying a round black tray with a covered plate and cup of coffee on it, the bleach blond young lady stared with wide brown eyes.
 
“Um-” she stuttered for the right words, trying to remember why she was there.
 
“Breakfast,” Seifer supplied kindly, wondering if there were any chance that she'd believe a well-told lie.
 
Squall sat rigid in his seat, too mortified to even think of turning his chair to face the intruder. He was currently calculating how long until this rumor spread through out the entire Garden. Why in Hyne's name hadn't his secretary used the intercom to inform him ahead of time?
 
Seifer was having similar thoughts as Squall, wondering if just anyone was allowed to waltz in here. He was given an answer when the silently bouncing form of the messenger girl filled the partially opened door. She was jumping quite animatedly up and down, but kept her footfalls silent and gestured with an index finger to her lips for silence.
 
Jade eyes tore from the form of a mischief-making ball of energy and returned to the nerve rattled cadet. Beaming brightly, Seifer played the part Tilmitt was obviously setting him up for. Pointedly swiping a thumb across his just kissed lips, Seifer grinned sheepishly like a schoolboy caught red handed. “The Commander had something in his eye,” he lied with a perfectly played sense of a blundered cover up.
 
Swallowing thickly, the young woman glanced behind to see the empty doorway and then turned back. So much for it being perfectly fine to stride right in. Certainly, helping Commander Leonhart remove a fleck of dust or lash from his dreamy gray-blue eyes required hands, which she'd seen placed on the armrests. And it most definitely did not require such close proximity. Ultimecia's knight looked like he was in the middle of climbing on top of the Balamb Lion, not to mention he had wet lips that betrayed everything.
 
With shaking hands, the plate and mug were set down on the desk near the furthest corner that was free of papers.
 
The blond cadet held the serving tray and removed lid against her chest in a death grip, no longer able to figure out the next step now that her mission was accomplished.
 
Out of the corner of his eye, Seifer caught an urging hand from Tilmitt wave him on through the door, but it was retracted as quickly as he'd caught sight of it. Inwardly rolling his eyes at the fact that he was humoring the copper haired pilot over his sex minx, Seifer reached down and ruffled the Commander's hair. Even if the girl couldn't see, it was a pretty obvious gesture. “All better,” he cooed in a sickeningly gentle voice.
 
Squall was at a loss for why the ex-knight was acting so weird. When the hand ruffling his hair gave a little tug of encouragement he faltered a moment to remember what Seifer had even said. Once he did, he felt a wave of flustered relief wash over him as he realized this was a set up. The lack of informing call from the secretary, the female cadet, Seifer's tell tale playboy acting, it all fit together.
 
At the second tug on his hair, Squall snapped to and replied, “Thank you.”
 
“Anytime,” Seifer spoke, his voice riddled with innuendo.
 
Seemingly in a world of their own, having completely forgotten about the errand running cadet, Seifer let his gaze linger with obvious lust at the hidden Commander.
 
“Hey Squall!” Selphie called while bouncing in. “Come on Stacey, we have other deliveries.”
 
With a jerking start, the young woman practically ran to the copper haired woman for safety.
 
Seifer felt like asking how Tilmitt even managed to sooth over the fact that she was aiding in the delivering service, but he felt that it'd probably be best not to.
 
When the door closed shut, Squall shot up out of his seat as though the secretary had announced a sorceress at the front gates.
 
“Selphie was there?” the brunet questioned with worry as he paced back and forth.
 
“Hey,” Seifer said reassuringly, “She planned it, don't worry. It's just another step of hers, it's fine.”
 
“She saw us-”
 
Seifer cut him off. “She looked like one of those fangirls Tilmitt had in her group. Trust her on this one, she didn't let you down with the fight.”
 
“Why does everything have to be staged?” Squall questioned for lack of having his thoughts in the correct order.
 
Seifer took hold of Squall's shoulders, stopping the pacing. Leaning down he initiating another kiss, but kept it light. Pulling back, he framed the shorter man's delicate face with his hands. “It's either this, or we go with my idea and make some sex tapes and distributing them to the general population.”
 
Scowling, Squall glared at the knight. Seifer never seemed to take anything seriously.
 
“Not everything's staged though,” Seifer continued with an after thought. “This,” he captured plush lips again. Lowering his hands he trailed from narrow shoulders to a lithe torso, slowing at slim hips before reaching around and groping the Commander's denim clad ass. “What we do alone is not staged.”
 
“Nnh,” Squall agreed with without breaking the kiss.
 
Seifer was ready to dance around in victory that he hadn't gotten in trouble at all for the incident just then. Reluctantly ending their kiss, he gave a final pat to Squall's firm cheeks and stated, “Now, you eat.”
 
Bright blue eyes stared up into jade ones for a prolonged moment. At length, Squall licked his slick lips and informed the knight, “I'm not hungry.”
 
“You've got dinner with daddy and a date to break our record from last night, you'll need your stamina. Eat up princess.”
 
Casting a sidelong glance to a plate of toast and eggs, Squall's interest landed on the cup of coffee. He'd start with coffee, and if he felt hungry then he'd eat. Seifer did have a point, it was going to be a long day.
 
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