Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Hero ❯ Getting Along Famously ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

More Yaoi!

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Hero

Part Three: Getting Along Famously

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I spent the night surrounded by Seifer.

I tried to convince him that I could take more, that I could give as well as receive. Seifer had other ideas. He pulled me to him, wrapped his arms around me, fell asleep. I followed soon after. For the first time in a long while I slept without drugs and without nightmares.

I spent the day surrounded by Seifer.

I snuggled on his couch in the blankets he'd been using while I had his bed. I wore an old pair of his sweats that had shrunk almost enough to fit me. I had washed with Seifer's soap and shampoo. His scent and things gave me a feeling of security as I dozed. It helped keep the nightmares and depression away.

It also made me horny.

I was tempted to call Seifer. I stopped myself when I remembered Rinoa's irritating clingy phone calls.

I was not tempted to call the Garden. I was still on vacation.

Seifer had warned me that he would not call. He said he didn't want to wake me up. He was still babying me, and he had made me promise to stay in the nest on the couch and sleep as much as I could.

I agreed, thinking that sleeping all day boded well for the night.

Seifer's shift ended at 1830. I decided to wait for Seifer in the foyer and see if I could get him to fuck me right there. By 1845 I was ready to start rubbing myself on the furniture. By 1910 my legs couldn't take standing anymore. I had to limp back to the couch.

1930 I was telling myself logical reasons why it would take an hour to get home.

1940 I decided that waiting would be more tolerable if I had something to drink. I searched Seifer's kitchen but all I found was some import beer in the back of the fridge.

I was on my third when Seifer finally arrived, his arms full of groceries.

I was angry he had such a normal reason to be late.

I was relieved that he hadn't really abandoned me.

I was frustrated sexually after thinking about him all day.

I was exhausted from standing too long.

I was embarrassed that he caught me sneaking his beer.

All those thoughts and emotions swirled around in side my head. The kitchen swirled around my eyes. Seifer dropped the grocery bags and caught me before I hit the floor.

Instead of my legs around Seifer, it was his arms around me.

Good enough.

Seifer told me I was stressed out. He said that I had over done it like he had told me not to. He tucked me back in bed.

I don't remember falling asleep but I woke up to hot, blood rare steak. It was perfect. Seifer grinned at me and popped a piece in my mouth before I was fully coherent.

I hitched myself up on the pillows and let him feed me. Succulent slivers of porterhouse, molten forkfuls of buttery potato, crunchy bites of salad and sips of a surprisingly good merlot. I made no effort to take the plate or utensils from Seifer and he didn't offer.

His fingers brushed my face a few times. I touched his arm, wrapped my hand over his to steady the glass when he gave the wine. He leaned over licked the inside of my wrist so quickly I wasn't entirely sure it had happened.

Seifer abandoned the fork and fed me bits of salad with his fingers. I licked the dressing off his fingers and began to suckle them, not intending to let him go. He grinned wickedly and put a piece of steak in my mouth with his lips. I swallowed quickly, eager to get a better taste of him.

He pulled away, disappointing me. Seifer dropped the now largely empty tray on the floor by the bed. He finished off the wine and turned back to give me another kiss. When his tongue encouraged me to part my lips, Seifer let some of the dry plumy wine he'd been holding in his mouth flow into mine.

While I savored the merlot and the kiss, Seifer moved back to my wrist, suckling my pulse, and he followed it up the inside of my arm, then over to my throat, gentle, nibbling kisses. He gathered me to him, once again kissing my lips.

I used to hate it when Seifer made me feel small. Now I was glad I fit into his arms, protected by his body over mine. Safe. Safe and wanted.

The kisses changed from gentle to frantic. Heat rolled off Seifer as he hardened under my hand. I responded to his need, trying not to think.

If this was a good idea or not. If it was going to last this time or be one more failure for me.

Seifer tore me out of those baggy sweats, throwing the shirt across the room. I shivered when the cold air hit me, but Seifer was all over me, kissing, touching, stroking like he couldn't get enough.

I couldn't get enough.

I wrapped myself around him, burrowing my hands under his shirt, down his pants. I wanted skin. Seifer was wearing entirely too many clothes. He must have agreed with me because he pulled away with a growl and kicked off his boots. I got his shirt off him, a little worse for wear, while Seifer removed his pants. Then he was back in my arms, radiating heat and lust.

I pressed myself against him, pulling him back on top of me, hooking my legs around his.

"Seifer", I said, ready to beg if necessary.

I arched my back and rubbed myself against his hardness.

He rumbled a chuckle against my hair. "I was gonna try to warm you up a little first."

Seifer fumbled around on the side table, alternating kisses with curses, until he found the vial he was seeking. He got the lid off, using his teeth, before I took pity on him and took it away from him.

I poured the sweet scented gel liberally into my hands and rubbed them together to warm it up. I reached down for Seifer, and starting with his scrotum, lovingly worked my way up his thick shaft.

Seifer took some of the warmed gel off my hands and did the same to me, in the reverse. He teased his way past my sensitive glans and stroked down my cock. He cupped my balls, fondling them, and then slid to my opening. I bucked my hips up to him, trying not come with only his finger in me this time.

"You ready?"

"What do you think?" I growled. I almost bit him, but I remembered the night before. If Seifer had quit then, I would have died. Or killed him. Or both. I thrust up at him, demanding attention that he finally gave.

Seifer kissed the insides of my thighs, my balls, my cock, and then he lifted my ass up in his hands and gently pulled me onto him. Once he was sure that I could take him and he wasn't hurting me, he moved his hands up to support my back, pulling me to him. He kissed me, sliding his tongue in my mouth in time with his thrusts. Too soon he hit my sweet spot and I was galvanized, not breathing, clutching Seifer so hard I know I left marks.

Time stopped.

When it started again I crashed over the edge and fell for a thousand years.

Incredible.

Seifer held me down and growling deep in his throat, came inside of me.

It was just the way I like it, fast and a little rough. Afterwards Seifer held me and kissed me not like he was starving but as if he wanted each kiss to last forever.

I lay there in his arms, listening to his breathing and his heart beat, surrounded and protected by his warmth, and I was terrified.

Shiva had reminded me of something she was supposed to help me forget.

I loved him.

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Zell shifted from foot to foot outside of Squall's door. He muttered under his breath, "C'mon, C'mon." With a sigh, he knocked again, struggling with two large coffees and a sack of doughnut holes. "Open up, Capt'n, I gotcher breakfast here!"

Still no answer.

Zell tucked the sack in his armpit, only crushing a few pastries. He fumbled for the keycard that overrode Squall's lock. He hesitated a moment, weighing possible icy outrage against the possibility something was wrong. The heat from the paper coffee cups burned his fingers and made Zell's decision for him. "Maybe he's in the shower."

Squall was neither in the shower nor anywhere in his quarters, nor was there any sign that he had visited recently. Zell set the coffee down on Squall's faintly dusty desk, disturbing the screen saver. The message center was activated, indicating that Squall's cell phone was turned off. Zell noticed that there were 109 unretrieved messages dating from the 23rd of last month.

Zell rescued a doughnut hole from the bag and activated the message center. There was a way to bypass the recorded greeting but he never could remember how to do it.

"This is Squall Leonhart, Tuesday the 23rd about 3 am-"

The digitized voice sounded slightly off, but Zell could pick up the slur in the words. He crammed another doughnut hole, closing his eyes as he chewed, trying to analyze Squall's voice to determine exactly how drunk his friend and commander had been when the message was left. After four years, Zell could almost tell to the milligram. This sounded like Squall was well over the legal limit.

Zell stopped chewing and concentrated on the background noise. He barely heard the instructions of who to call at what numbers for Official Garden business. Was Squall in the car? Bad, very bad.

" - help you with whatever you need. I suggest you call her because... I don't think I'll be available."

Zell sat up, mouth hanging open, skin goosepimpling.

Just before the tone, whispered, was "Sorry, Zell."

Zell spat the sodden lump of dough into the wastebasket, too upset to even swallow. He paged the Admin office, knowing Quistis would be there, trying to get everything perfect for Squall's return.

"How was your vacation?" she answered.

The non sequitur startled Zell for a moment. Of course, it would show the call came from Squall's room. He responded with a non sequitur of his own, "Have you listened to Squall's voice mail greeting?"

"Zell?! What..." Quistis took a deep breath. "No, I always use pound star to bypass it - everyone does. ...Should I?"

"No. Call Laguna. I'll start with the Police."

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Zell sat with his chair pushed back as far from the desk as it could be and still allow him to rest his forearms on the polished surface. He rolled a coffee mug back in forth in his hands, resisting the urge to throw it.

Quistis was straining her diplomatic skills, keeping her voice polite while her knuckles went white. She dodged another question. "But you're sure Commander Leonhart did not get on the train?" At the muffled affirmative, she said brightly, "Thanks so much!" and disconnected. She shook her head at Zell.

"I heard." Zell ran his hands through his hair, inadvertently styling it much as it had been in his younger days. "I wish..."

They turned as one when the vidphone from Galbadia Garden chirped. Selphie appeared, standing sideways to show off her expanding silhouette. She smiled impishly at their delighted greetings.

"Only 18 more days. Then I'm gonna make Irvine carry him for 9 months."

"Is that fair? He'll be a lot heavier." Zell felt the men should stick together.

"Irvy is a lot bigger than me, so of course it's fair." Selphie rested her hands on her rounded tummy and bit her lip. "I have news."

"Spill it, 'Elf, " Quistis said. Zell propped his head up with one hand and closed his eyes.

"Okay. There are no Leonharts under any spelling in any jail, hotel or hospital in Galbadia."

"I guess that's good news..." Quistis didn't sound convinced.

Selphie held up her hand. "But, Squall has a rare blood type. A John Doe with AB blood type was brought into Galbadia General with multiple fractures and, get this, amnesia, on the 23rd."

"Squall," Zell said. It wasn't a question.

"Description matches." Selphie nodded. "He was supposed to have been transferred to Charity Hospital on the 28th. He was never admitted."

Quistis' hand fluttered to her throat. "Then, where is he?"

"No one knows. I did find out the name of the ambulance driver who checked him out of Galbadia General." Selphie took a deep breath. "Guys, it's Seifer Almasy."

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Zell sighed and brushed his bangs out of his eyes. What should have been a Garden Only investigation had suddenly become an international incident. He really couldn't blame Laguna for getting involved, but when he'd shown up the Galbadian government got in on it, and then the press. Now Zell was Chief Torch and Pitchfork Carrier at the Witch Hunt. Or, more accurately, the Sorceress' Knight Hunt.

Weirdly enough, it was Laguna Loire who was the Voice of Reason. " I feel better knowing Squall's with Seifer Almasy."

"Are you nuts? He tried to kill Squall. More than once!" Irvine was there, representing Galbadia Garden.

"Irvine! Are you a daddy yet?" Laguna captured the sniper in a quick bear hug. "How's my little fan girl?"

Zell rolled his eyes as Irvine flushed and stammered. He went back to reading the report the Galbadian Government had prepared on Seifer.

"Mr. President," Kiros said gently.

"Er, right. Thing is, Squall already beat him once. And he's a known enemy. Much easier situation."

Reluctantly, Irvine conceded Loire's point.

"And according to the report, Almasy's been working and going to school. Even saving lives. So that's not -"

Trent, head of Galbadian Security, interrupted. "With all due respect, President Loire, you yourself are a well known Sorceress' Knight -"

"Elle is NOT a -"

"- and I think your and Esther's participation in this is best kept to a minimum," Trent continued.

Kiros stepped in front of Laguna. "I don't believe that is your decision to make, Mr. Trent."

"This is a matter of Galbadian security-" Trent started.

"Galbadian GARDEN security," Irvine put in.

"He. Has. My. SON!" Laguna spat.

Zell ignored the quibbling and tried to control his own anger. He was seething over the report he'd just read. How dare he? How fucking dare Seifer live happily ever after when Squall was in such pain? Zell shook his head, trying not to let his mind replay scenes of rescuing Squall, guarding him, covering for him... watching him disintegrate.

Zell slapped the report down on the table. The noise made the other men start and turn, slightly guiltily, to the furious young man.

"Let's go," Zell said.

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Honest to Hyne, I never thought Squall would stay. The phone was there. I figured he'd call the Garden, Zell would run by with some clothes, and by the time I got home all I'd find was an echo. In fact, I was so sure, I went grocery shopping instead of buying take out. When I walked in and there Squall was, all flushed and overwrought and half in the bag, I almost fell over. He did fall over, so that worked out.

He's still here.

Every day when I leave for work or school I kiss him goodbye and think it really is goodbye. Every day when I come back, Squall is still here, like a little surprise party.

I don't know what he does all day, but the apartment's cleaner.

I know he's had Hyperion out, because that layer of dust on her case I've been feeling guilty about is gone. I don't know if Squall can wield her, though. She used to be too heavy for him.

Lately he's taken to cooking. When I complimented him, I got The Look.

"It's just chemistry," he said.

Explains why my cooking tastes like a science experiment.

Squall did grumble about having nothing to wear but my old gym clothes. I told him I liked him better naked, anyway, and I got The Look again.

I'd forgotten what a kick that was.

I took a hint and some of the School Fund and went shopping. With great self-control I did not buy the candy red butter leather suit. It wasn't in Squall's size. I knew what he'd want, but I hate him in black. It makes him look dead. I compromised with gray, but on a whim I threw in a pale strawberry colored shirt.

When I got home, Squall took the bags with no comment. Until...

"Pink?!"

I grinned at him. "It's the same color as your nipples."

Hyne's hips, how I have missed that glare.

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Squall was in the kitchen making gingerbread, which he knows is my favorite. "Do we have any more whipped cream?" he called.

I checked the can by the bed. "Nope. And remind me to do the sheets."

"As if."

I threw my towel in the grunge corner out of habit, although Squall thinks I do it deliberately to piss him off. I had just gotten my jeans zipped when there was a huge crash from the living room.

I skidded out saying something intelligent like "What the f-?!" I saw Squall pull a knife out of the block and go low around the kitchen island.

Where my front door had been was Zell Dincht, backed up by an unnecessary amount of Galbadian soldiers. "Not one spell or even sudden movement, Seifer," he said. "Or Irvine will shoot you dead."

I looked out the window and spotted the sparkle of targeting scope in the dust motes. I might be able to get the soldiers but I knew I couldn't take Zell before Irvine dropped me. I sighed and raised my hands, slowly.

"Nice to see you, too, Chicken Wuss."

The last thing I saw as the soldiers drug me away was Squall standing in the kitchen doorway, butcher knife in hand, looking utterly bereft.

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Trent ground out his cigarette with a vengeful twist. "You honestly expect me to believe you're some kind of hero?"

I grinned at him, even though it reopened the cut on my lip. I knew the effect was slightly dulled by the fact that my left eye was swollen shut, but I also knew I had a very irritating smirk.

"No," I said, keeping my voice pleasant. "What I want you to know is that I don't give a grat's ass what -"

Trent kicked me in the ribs. I folded up as well as I could with my hands cuffed behind me to the chair. It knocked the wind out of me so I could only mouth the word that came to my lips. Prick.

He smiled thinly at me.

My good sense, such as it is, tried to make me stay silent. After all, I knew why the chair was metal and bolted to the floor. I knew Galbadian interrogation techniques.

"You know," Irvine drawled to Trent, "That's Garden property you're messing with."

"That he's even still alive is an embarrassment to all of Galbadia, including your precious Garden."

"Let me clarify." Too fast to see, Irvine pulled his side arm, holding it against Trent's head. "Touch him again and I'll kill you."

Trent spluttered and I managed a wheezy laugh.

"Ignore him, Kinneas. He's still mad because I wouldn't promote him all those years ago." Did I ever listen to my good sense? "Maybe if he'd been a bit better at cocksu-"

Not taking his eyes off Trent, Irvine said, "Don't push it, Seifer. And don't put me in the middle. You don't know where my loyalties lie."

"Yeah I do," I said. "With Squall."

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Laguna Loire gently took the pen Zell had been tapping for the last twenty or so minutes.

"Sorry," Zell said. He gestured to the 2 way mirror and beyond, to the room where Squall was efficiently reporting to Kiros and Selphie. "I feel like I'm spying on him."

"You are." Laguna sighed. "I'm sorry, that wasn't very diplomatic. ... I think you knew a lot of this already, anyway."

"Not as much as you'd think. Squall... never tells you what's wrong. He's only opening up now because he's trying to help Seifer."

"He loves him."

"Yeah," Zell said, leaning his head against the cool glass of the mirror. "What good will it do him?"

Squall continued the debriefing, face blank, voice expressionless as well. Laguna watched his son palm away tears almost absentmindedly, and felt his own heart ache.

"Maybe there's some good I can do," Laguna said.

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I stretched my legs out and slouched in the chair, sitting with my tailbone just on the edge of the seat. I was trying to get at least slightly comfortable, not easy as I was still cuffed to the damned thing.

Trent had given up and left after Irvine made it clear that Seifers were out of season. The Cowboy followed shortly thereafter. I guess they had decided to try the 'Let 'em stew' method, also known as Death by Ennui. Ordinarily I would take the opportunity for a practice nap, but I was worried about Squall.

Speak of the devil.

Squall strode in, looking every inch the Commander. I did note that pale strawberry pink was indeed his color, and that the gray leather pants fit well enough to be illegal.

"They reached a decision," he said.

I waited, wordless for once.

Squall smiled, one of his rare, sweet, happy smiles, and held up the key to the handcuffs.

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"Apparently healing is either done medically, naturally, or magically. You've spent the last few years combining medical with magical. My father - Laguna Loire - is offering you a grant to study medicine and magic in Esther."

My heart stopped. "Med School? In Esther? That is the school! The best! ... It costs a fortune."

Squall waved his hand, dismissing that. "That's what the grant's for. You're on your own grade wise, though. He won't pull strings for you to become a second rate Healer."

Like I would settle for second rate. I have my pride. But I'd take help getting in. I'm proud, but I'm not stupid.

"So I'm free?"

"Conditionally. Sort of on Probation." Squall swung a leg over mine and sat down, straddling me.

"What if I don't agree to the conditions?"

He leaned close and stole a kiss. "What makes you think you're in control enough to have a choice?"

I kissed him back. "Are you my Probation Officer?"

"Yes." Squall rubbed on me a little as he reached around to unfasten the manacles.

"I'm a very bad boy. I'll need almost constant supervision." I rubbed my wrists and then his ass.

"I know. I've arranged for a sabbatical from the Garden. Quis and Zell do all the work now, anyway."

"Well, in that case..." I pulled Squall into my arms. "Let's just see who really is in control here," I said, and kissed him breathless.

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Thank you again for reading! If you liked this, the next in the series is "Happily Ever After"