Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction ❯ Strings Attached ❯ Take My Hand ( Chapter 24 )

Chapter Twenty-Four

Take My Hand

 

“One punch does not constitute a beating,” Laguna groaned miserably.

 

“But it must have been some punch, he went down like a ton of bricks!” Selphie rejoiced.

 

The young woman had been left alone to listen in on the conversation between the Commander and the General, never managing to find Laguna on her way up and discovering that the area outside Squall's office had been vacated already. As Caraway stormed from the office, Laguna had just arrived by mere coincidence.

 

Unlucky for Caraway, Laguna was quite sensitive about his son. And lucky for Selphie, she'd seen the whole thing.

 

“Do you need ice?” Squall asked, striding towards the kitchen of the President's apartment.

 

“Screw ice,” Seifer remarked, amicably patting the older man on the back, “Give him a potion if he needs it.” The blond knight knew how stingy Squall was with potions, always following the rules.

 

“No,” Laguna said, “My hand's fine.”

 

“Unlike Caraway's face,” Seifer commented before laughing.

 

Shifting on foot uneasily, Laguna called out to his son, “I'm sorry.”

 

Squall was hidden in the kitchen, facing an open freezer. A small smile ghosted his lips, his amusement at the incident surpassing his concern for any ramifications. He'd wanted to hit the General several times himself. Though, his heart nearly stopped when Selphie informed him of what happened, exaggerating the truth to a degree that caused him great alarm.

 

The situation had resolved itself when the General was revived and seemed more embarrassed than angry. It also helped that no one really wanted to make enemies with Esthar.

 

It was obvious Caraway had underestimated Laguna Loire's paternal attachment, never thinking a few departing comments would invoke such a strong reaction.

 

Squall listened as he searched for a plastic bag or clean dishtowel to place a few cubes of ice in. Judging from the General's quickly swollen cheekbone, he'd say Laguna's knuckles would fee pretty bruised.

 

“So, without Tilmitt's tall tale accounting, how'd it really happen?” Making himself at home, Seifer comfortably took a seat on the couch and sank into the cushions, his arms spread wide across the back.

 

“You seem awfully happy about all this,” the longhaired man commented sardonically. He was mortified at what he'd done. He hadn't been thinking about the trouble it might cause Squall before he'd acted.

 

“Are you kidding?” the blond returned rhetorically.

 

“He totally deserved it!” Selphie exclaimed. When jade eyes gave her a questioning look, she quickly added, “For what he said to Sir Laguna.”

 

Sighing, the raven haired President flexed his right hand and joined the ex-knight. “I just stepped off the elevator. I came to find Squall, because I have to go back to Esthar tonight and wanted to see if we could spend some time together.” Hazel green eyes seemed to dim slightly.

 

“Will you make it back for the festival?” Squall questioned from the kitchen's open doorway. There was a slight note of curious concern in the Commander's voice that seemed to belie a want for the older man's quick return.

 

“I wouldn't miss it for the world,” Laguna answered with a sheepish smile.

 

Coughing to pointedly interrupt the gazing moment between father and son, Seifer prompted, “Then what happened?”

 

Striding closer, Squall casually offered a dishtowel with several ice cubes wrapped up in it.

 

“Well, he said something inappropriate and I overreacted.” Laguna took the offering carefully, as if it would disappear if he took his eye off of it.

 

Walking in front of the blank television screen, Selphie was more than happy to reenact the scene. “General Caraway came out and got in Laguna's face, all angry at poor Laguna for no reason. He was all, `I hope Balamb Garden is worth having a gay son. Esthar can't support this place forever.'” Selphie's imitation of the General was actually fairly accurate.

 

Hopping to stand facing the other direction, she played the Estharian President. “And then, Laguna was like, `Squall is worth everything I have.' And then before Caraway could say anything, BAM!” The copper haired woman gave the air a hard right hook. Bouncing from foot to foot and shadow boxing like Zell, she laughed triumphantly.

 

Blushing furiously, Laguna kept his eyes trained on the plain white dishrag. He kept busy with shifting it every so often on the back of his hand.

 

A faint blush graced Squall's cheeks as well, feeling certain Selphie had given a quoting verbatim. Awkwardly clearing his throat, he kneeled before his father and gestured to see the man's hand.

 

Wide eyed, Laguna let the young brunet examine the slightly reddened knuckles. His hand was fine. He knew how to throw a punch.

 

With an approving nod, Squall commented, “I take it the machine gun wasn't your only weapon of choice.”

 

Blushing deeper, Laguna nodded numbly, his heart swelling. Before he could think of what to say or do, the cushion beside him shifted and the boy just seemed to blink out of sight.

 

Seifer had dipped down and grabbed Squall, yanking the brunet about the waist and situating himself back in place, now with his kitten in his lap. His actions spoke loud enough, the message clear to everyone in the room.

 

Squall rolled his eyes, assuming Seifer wanted more attention. However, sitting in the blond's lap was out of the question. Slapping offending arms away, he unceremoniously slid into a place beside the ex-knight, his father at his other side.

 

Avidly, Selphie's green eyes watched the each man. She wanted a camera. The sternly clenched jaw of the handsome blond knight, who craved attention and became irritated when a particular brunet wasn't solely focused on him, was simply cute. The shy hesitancy for intimacy in front of others from Squall was endearing. And, the faint blush in the young looking President's cheeks was adorable, as if Laguna just realized that his son cared in a very secretive way.

 

Wishing she had a camera, Selphie settled for storing the idea away and nagging until she managed to convince everyone to get together and allow her to snap pictures all day.

 

Bounding closer, Selphie practically threw herself into Laguna's lap. Stretching out, she lay across the three surprised men. Giggling, she grinned impishly. “I felt left out,” she explained, wriggling about.

 

“Tilmitt, watch your feet,” Seifer warned, almost jumping back as those heavy boots landed a little too close to his package. Laguna's stunt seemed to have distracted the Commander from the comment's he'd made in the office, which meant he wasn't in the doghouse and could expect to be getting some later on. However, if the bouncy pilot saw fit to kick him in the groin, he'd see fit to wrecking her entire festival.

 

“You guys are comfy,” she declared. Craning her head back, she spotted the remote a couple cushions away. It was out of her reach, so she attempted to roll backwards off of them. However, she got stuck half way, glad for her pants when her jumper came up. “A little push,” she said. If she wasn't on their laps, she could have done it, but even she had sense enough to be careful.

 

Awkwardly, Laguna helped the young woman, pushing her the rest of the way and off his lap. Sometimes he questioned how this group of people managed to save the world. Frowning, Laguna reminded himself that Seifer had not been a part of that group, a little fact that was easy to forget with the amicable air between everyone.

 

Casually settling in as if she'd simply sat down in the first place, Selphie flipped the television on. “Are they running any specials on festivals, or did that stop last weekend?” the young woman asked.

 

Resting his hand on his knee, Laguna kept the makeshift icepack in place. “Festival specials ended, right now Galbadia has hockey and track.” Shifting a bit, the President tried not to appear uncomfortable.

 

Pouting a little, Selphie attempted a few channels before finding something of interest that involved someone just landing after a pole vault. “I'm meeting Irvy for lunch later, but do you mind if I kill some time here?”

 

“Who're you asking?” Seifer questioned, realizing the air between them felt a little tense.

 

“Who do you think?” Selphie retorted, leaning forward to gaze at the blond knight. It was then she saw three pairs of striking eyes gazing at her in silent question. Giggling, she answered, “Sir Laguna of course, it's his place after all.”

 

“No it's fine,” the raven-haired President assured.

 

While track and field wasn't exactly the most exciting entertainment, it involved moving bodies wearing colorful outfits. It was enough to draw Laguna and Selphie right in.

 

Silently debating, Squall considered going back to his office. He'd planned on that, up until he was informed that Laguna was leaving that night. Now, while his mind was made up to stay with the President, he felt inclined to just dropping by the office to grab some work.

 

“I'll be back in a bit,” Squall announced, making to stand up. Before he could rise completely, a stilling hand grasped his own.

 

“Where are you going?” Seifer questioned, his jade eyes boring into the gray-blue ones of the Commander.

 

Standing, but remaining with his hand held by the ex-knight's, Squall replied, “Just to grab a few files. It'll only take a few minutes.”

 

Laguna gave a smile at the fact that he would indeed be spending the day with Squall. However, an exclamation of awe from the copper haired woman at his side drew his attention back to the field events on screen.

 

Seifer seemed hesitant for a moment, not wanting to let Squall go. Maybe it was the way the brunet had scrambled off his lap so quickly, as if moving away from him had been the pretty boy's first instinct. After that moment's hesitation, Seifer felt foolish for reading so much into nothing. Squall didn't like to be affectionate with anyone else watching, he knew that and respected it for the most part.

 

Without further impeding, the blond released the seemingly delicate hand from his grip. Grunting in acknowledgment of what the brunet had said, Seifer turned his attention to the large screen on the wall. As Squall walked away, his eyes mimicked the attentive watching like that of the two people further down the couch, but he was blankly staring.

 

Squall was halfway to the door before something clicked in his head. Frowning, he quietly walked back, not wanting to draw attention from his father or Selphie.

 

While Seifer's blunt and outspoken nature was refreshing and part of what Squall liked about the man, there were many occasions when the brunet cursed Seifer's tendency to speak every thought aloud. However, this was a rare instance when Squall found the former knight wasn't speaking up, obviously thoughtful about something that had happened in the last five minutes.

 

Stooping from behind the couch, a task made harder since the seating area was a step lower than the rest of the room, Squall pressed his lips to Seifer's cheek. It was a quick kiss, his lips moving to hover a hair's breadth from the blond's ear. “If something's wrong, say so,” he whispered

 

Seifer closed his eyes, his body's reaction extreme for something that was so small in comparison to the sort of passionate exchanges they usually had. Perhaps it was the mentality he had, having almost wished Squall could read his thoughts and assure him he was being ridiculous. It was like pleasant reminder that Squall understood him quite well and picked up on something so small as a second's delay in letting go of the other's hand.

 

“I'm coming with you,” the knight said before standing.

 

A small smile played across Squall's face. The pale brunet felt a mixture of pride in himself for picking up on his lover's wants and amusement that Seifer was reluctant to admit wanting to come along. Squall supposed he'd feel the same if their roles were reversed. A quick trip to the office was hardly something that needed both of them to accomplish, and hardly enough time apart to even begin wishing they were together.

 

As they stepped into the hallway, Seifer's arm snuck around the smaller man's back and his hand settled comfortably on subtle curve of Squall's hip. He hooked a thumb into one of the belts, slowly adding to the list of uses he had for the accessories.

 

“Seifer,” Squall hissed in warning, eyes darting around to see if anyone was within sight.

 

Scowling darkly, Seifer pointed out, “It's not a secret that we're together.”

 

“…” Squall returned the scowl.

 

“A few touches here and there aren't inappropriate, even in public. You won't even sit on my lap in the privacy of your dad's living room.”

 

“Selphie and Laguna were there. Besides, I hardly do it when we're alone,” Squall said, wondering how serious Seifer was being about this and whether it was sadness he saw in jade green eyes.

 

Seifer thought that perhaps some of the fault was within himself. Seeing as how Squally-boy was previously virgin boy, the responsibility of showing the oblivious young man what lovers did fell on him. Perhaps he should have been pushing Squall to be more affectionate from the beginning. Then again, perhaps he was just feeling a little needy, that insatiable craving urging more contact and wanting to feel those gentle fingers touching him.

 

Miffed that he couldn't make up his mind on such a simple matter, Seifer dropped his arm from around Squall. Stepping away, he raised his eyebrows in question of whether that was better, and then began to walk.

 

Squall fell into step beside the tall ex-knight, feeling guilty but not willing to show it. Whether or not the world knew about their relationship didn't change the fact that he wasn't comfortable walking around holding hands and making out. Yet, Seifer managed to make him feel like he was rejecting him.

 

What sort of message would it send if he walked before the cadets with Seifer grabbing his ass? As the Commander, there was an image of proper conduct to uphold.

 

But, how much longer was he going to be the Commander? A week or two, maybe another couple months, or was he going to forget about resigning altogether?

 

It wasn't as though he were particularly keen on being the Commander, though he felt concerned about Balamb Garden's welfare. Under his control, things ran smoothly, and that was something he needed to be assured wouldn't become disrupted when he left.

 

`When I leave or if I leave?' Squall wondered to himself.

 

Thoughts of resigning plagued Squall's mind all the way to the office. He was so engrossed that he nearly forgot why he'd come there.

 

Thinking for a moment he stalked into the room. Knowing that he basically had endless reports to read, he gathered a few littered files on his desk, having just left everything as it was after Caraway's departure. In the bottom drawer was his laptop packed away in its case. Neatly tucking the files in the bag, he zipped it up. After settling the strap crosswise over his chest, he felt certain he had most of what needed to be worked on.

 

Quistis was the Headmistress now and would be taking over much of the tedious paperwork starting the following Monday. His job would still place him behind a desk, but the cadets wouldn't be his responsibility, only fully fledged SeeD.

 

Turning back, Squall saw the tall knight standing in the doorway, staring after him intently.

 

“Something on your mind?” Seifer asked while crossing his arms as if stating that he wouldn't budge until he received a sufficient answer.

 

“Many things,” Squall replied evasively, knowing how the blond disliked it when he lied.

 

Walking closer, undeterred by the older boy's broad form, Squall stepped as close as he could. Regarding the blond through a slanted gaze, he seemed to ask if his honest answer would suffice.

 

Seifer, who had several bones to pick, found that his hands didn't really care for whatever matters his mind dealt with. Smoothly, he reached out and grabbed at those bulky belts adorning sexy hips. In a gruff pull, he brought Squall to himself, ridding the small gap that kept their bodies apart.

 

Squall kept his eyes trained upwards, never blinking or changing his expression. It was all he could do not to visibly shiver. It might have been the tinge of anger still present in green eyes, something that usually vanished completely when lust came into play.

 

“I want to touch you always, not just when no one is looking,” the blond stated huskily.

 

Squall thought back to the few times he'd been intimate with the knight in front of others. A caressing touch somehow seemed more embarrassing than a passionate kiss. To openly show his love for Seifer made him feel anxious and somewhat vulnerable.

 

“Can you even do it when we're alone?” Seifer bit out heatedly, fighting the urge to stalk away. Squall loved him and showed it every day, but he still felt agitated at the moment.

 

Brows drawn together, Squall stared in slight shock. What exactly was the cause of this?

 

Taking the challenge, Squall kept his eyes locked onto the knight's and raised his hands up. As the action caused him to lean back slightly, he went slow and waited for supporting arms to keep him from losing balance. There was a heavier weight on his left shoulder, the strap pulling with the weight of his portable computer and files.

 

Seifer's breath hitched at the first touch of Squall's fingertips. He'd seen it coming, but it was still unexpected.

 

Gently, Squall took Seifer's request entirely literal and simply touched the man. He felt a pleasant warmth wash over him when the older boy's eyes shut and a very faint gasp escaped parted lips.

 

Finding the reaction encouraging, Squall trailed his fingers lightly along smoothly shaven cheeks. He was almost inclined to shut his own eyes, but he had mapped the feel of Seifer's face out long ago.

 

A stern jaw, neither square nor narrow. The blond knight had strong features that demanded attention for their aesthetic appeal. The straight bridge of Seifer's nose was dignified in a way. But time and again, Squall was drawn to the slashing scar.

 

Tracing the diagonal mark, Squall's gentle touching was stilled when Seifer's arms wrapped around him completely and pulled him flush against a broad chest. Arms still raised, Squall settled in to return the action. His hands clasped behind the tall man's neck.

 

Swallowing thickly, Seifer kept his eyes shut as he felt the way every curve of the brunet molded against him. Well, almost every curve. “These belts of yours can be annoying,” he mumbled.

 

Not replying, Squall relaxed more fully. The belts were convenient, unless he was equally as frantic to get them off as Seifer.

 

“I love you,” the blond impressed heavily as he twined his fingers in lengthy strands of silky hair. He wondered if he'd like longer hair. Squall would be attractive with short strands or long, but he wondered what would compliment that pretty face best.

 

“That's what you say every night when you think I'm sleeping,” Squall mumbled against the soft material of the blond's always fashionable shirt.

 

Tensing for a brief moment, Seifer thought Squall actually found him out. However, he realized too late that it was a bating guess, which he'd fallen for and given himself away. Chuckling, he squeezed the brunet tighter. “You're a brat,” he stated.

 

Growing solemn, or at least seeming to while relishing the feel of the knight's chest in calm silence, Squall closed his eyes. His words of returned love were not warranted. Seifer didn't often prompt him to reply and express his love, and though he would speak up on his own occasionally, it wasn't common. It was understood that he felt very deeply for the ex-knight. It was also understood that he didn't often put those feelings into words.

 

“So,” Seifer said, lecherously caressing his hand down Squall's backside and giving a pert ass cheek a firm grope. His eyes roved the empty office. “We're all alone.”

 

Squall nodded slightly, not really following the line of thought but agreeing with the obvious fact. He stirred at the continued fondling, arching into the touch.

 

“Not a soul in sight and the doors lock from the inside.”

 

“Seifer,” Squall protested, even though his body seemed to say the knight's name in a different tone, calling out to the man and urging groping hands to continue.

 

“If you tell me what my present is, I'll be a good boy and wait patiently until later,” Seifer proposed with an impish grin.

 

Squall scoffed at the idea of Seifer being a `good boy' and the assumption that Seifer could make him do anything. “Let's get back. Laguna's waiting.”

 

“You'd rather be with your dad than me?”

 

“No,” Squall stated firmly. “But he's leaving tonight.”

 

“I wasn't being serious princess, I know how you feel about the guy.” Seifer placed a soft kiss to Squall head before loosening his hold and forcing his hand to stop kneading that leather clad ass.

 

As the blond stepped back, he offered his hand out. When stormy blue eyes gazed at him questioningly, as if his gesture was unknown to the younger man, he wriggled his fingers about to emphasize his point. “It won't kill you, just try it.”

 

Frowning, Squall hesitated a little longer. Reluctantly, he reached out and placed his hand in Seifer's hold. The larger hand clasped his own firmly, conforming so they fit together.

 

The steps it took to reach the elevator were almost like a trial of what a longer walk would feel like while holding hands. Squall felt a slight apprehension, suddenly realizing he was going to be walking along while holding Seifer's hand.

 

It hadn't been embarrassing to have Rinoa hanging off his arm all the time, but that was because he was usually too consumed by a headache to care about the eyes that followed.

 

With Seifer, it wasn't so much that people would see them, but rather that he was admitting his feelings. He hadn't actually loved Rinoa, so there was nothing to admit. He'd still been the same Ice Prince that was protected by icy walls. But, with Seifer it was different. He was exposed before the blond, and therefore, everyone else as well.

 

As they rode the elevator down, Seifer jostled the brunet's arm. “Since when do you care so much about image? Being the Commander doesn't mean you're celibate, and people will understand why you're with me as soon as they see how sexy I am.”

 

Squall rolled his eyes, secretly somewhat relieved by those words. Perhaps he'd been the cold Commander for so long that he didn't know how to be anything else in front of his cadets or anyone he didn't know on such a close level as Seifer and the small group of friends.

 

Before they reached the ground floor, Squall worried his lip before asking, “What would you be doing if you weren't my bodyguard?” He couldn't help but question what sort of life Seifer would live away from Garden, or if the blond even wanted a life outside of Balamb's comforting walls.

 

Seifer eyed the Commander keenly, finding he was slightly alarmed by the question for no apparent reason. “I'd probably be miserable, and that's all that matters.”

 

With a small nod, Squall dismissed the subject. He was afraid he'd give himself away if he started pointing the blond in the direction of what his thoughts were focused on lately.

 

As the doors opened and the scattered bodies seemed to take notice, he came to conclusion that he had more pressing matters on his mind to care about how his actions were taken. He'd always be the Ice Prince to them, even if Seifer was living proof that his walls could be melted.

 

TBC…