Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Lightning. ❯ Chapter, The Thirteenth: In Which Rikan Is Warned. Again. ( Chapter 13 )

Fake Kitty: I have Oni over for about a week, so I’m very busy and I haven’t seen Eoko for a few days. Wah, I miss Eoko!

Eoko: I know, Kitty. It’s terribly sad without you. I’m not play FFXI for unholy hours at a time. No, not me, never. I’d never play from 11am-11:30pm… noooo…. Never.

Fake Kitty: Eoko, that’s too much! You’ll ruin your eyes and all that stuff!

Eoko: Like getting off FFXI to stare at the computer screen while we chat is doing my eyes any more good.

Fake Kitty: Well, you have a point- anyway! This is once nothing to do with the chapter. Irvine misses Zellipoo, I miss Koko-chan and I’ll have to hit her over the head for making me up in order to have me in the ANs!

Eoko: Oh, woe is me, I am so afeared… Oh, and the question marks in Rubedo’s / / speech is getting cut off by FF dot net’s fucktardedness. So, if it sounded like a question, Zell had actually used proper grammer and used the question mark.

Chapter, The Thirteenth: In Which Rikan Is Warned. Again.

Rikan couldn't contain himself any longer. He saw how Irvine was watching that idiot in the motorcycle helmet, knew the look for what it was, even if the sharpshooter wasn't aware of it himself. He glared at Rubedo, as he'd been introduced, and then looked back to Irvine.

Anasha, the late arrival Selphie, and Harada had placed themselves carefully between himself and Irvine, but they were all so wrapped up in applauding the idiot-biker-man (who the fuck wore a helmet to sing anyway?) that they didn't notice Rikan slip out of his chair and move behind them. He may have been under the influence of quite a bit too much alcohol, since what he did was rash, stupid and altogether a bad idea.

He reached down, cupped Irvine's cheek, turned his face, and bent to kiss him.

Irvine yelped slightly just before Rikan's mouth made contact, but that only resulted in there being no barrier to the cadet's tongue. It delved within and the sharpshooter's eyes screwed shut, hands coming up to fist in Rikan's shirt.

"Hey!" Selphie cried, making a grab for Rikan's wrist but missing, because she was more-than-slightly inebriated as well.

Anasha toppled off her chair as Selphie crashed into her in the process of the lunge and Harada grabbed the back of the SeeD's yellow dress to keep her from falling atop the other girl.

Irvine pushed, but Rikan's hand went to the back of his head, holding him where he was, and another sound issued from the sharpshooter's mouth. He'd been so happy. All thought of Zell's class, of Rikan, of Seifer, of everything that was wrong with his life had vanished at the sound of Rubedo's voice, but it all came crashing back as he struggled to get away.

"Rikan!" Illo cried. "Rikan, let him go!"

Rikan ignored him.

"You're terrifying him!" Terry added, just about climbing over the table to try and separate them.

Rikan ignored him.

"He's gonna cry!" Hiro hissed. "For Hyne's sake, let him-"

A hand fisted in the back of Rikan's shirt, dragging him bodily away from the sharpshooter. A second went around his throat, turning him to face the visor of a motorbike helmet.

"-go..."

"If you ever touch him like that again, I'll kill you. Got it? You won't see me coming. You won't know I'm there. And I'll kill you. You keep your hands off him." There was a pause. "Unless he asks." He had to add that. It was still Irvine's choice. But no one - no one - should be allowed to force anything on him.

Rikan swallowed, throat moving against the five iron bands wrapped around his neck. The voice was nothing but a low hiss through clenched teeth, totally removed from the singing. He opened his mouth, but he had no breath to speak.

The hiss came again.

"Are. We. Clear?"

He swallowed again, still couldn't speak, his heart beating a terrified tattoo against his ribcage. He nodded.

Rubedo tossed him aside as though he weighed no more than a feather, and as though he was worth even less. The man went to his knees beside Irvine, who was shaking, long-fingered hands covering his face.

I think I might kill Rikan anyway... Zell thought idly, lifting a hand to touch the back of one of Irvine's.

The sharpshooter flinched, and a whispered; "No..." passed his hands.

Irvine...

Zell's mouth shaped the name, and in that moment, he wished so much he could say it. He wanted to tell Irvine it would be alright, that he would protect him. He wanted to say he would never force anything, but that it was time Irvine let himself be free. But he could say none of that. And Irvine wouldn't look at him.

He dragged the notepad out his vest pocket and scribbled a quick /It's me,/ then slid the pad gently along Irvine's leg, until the sharpshooter could peek at it without moving his hands. They lowered, then, and an utterly confused, lost, scared face looked down at Zell.

Oh, Irvine... You don't know what you want anymore. It felt good, didn't it? Frightening, but good. I know. I know. It's hard to admit you're different.

Irvine suddenly flung himself out of the chair to the floor, burrowing insistently against Zell until he wrapped his arms around the shivering shoulders.

"Shh..." he whispered again, and Irvine shushed. He stopped shaking, and his breathing slowed to a normal pace.

Selphie watched in silence, wondering how the hell this could ever come out well. When Irvine found out - and he would find out - everything would shatter again, and she had a horrible feeling it would only be worse than before. Unless Zell kept the helmet on forever. She suddenly broke into a fit of hysterical giggles at that thought, mental pictures popping into her head of Irvine and helmet-Zell shopping together, eating together, laughing together, sleeping together. Oh, Hyne! The very idea of sex with a helmeted partner nearly killed her laughing.

Anasha dragged herself up from the floor, rubbing her poor behind.

"I don't even drink and I manage to fall over..." she muttered, then stared at Selphie.

Selphie could only laugh harder.

"Take me home," Irvine whispered, and Zell nodded.

He stood, taking Irvine with him, and glanced at Selphie who, still laughing, nodded.

/That woman's crazy,/ he wrote to Irvine, who managed a watery laugh and shook his head a little.

"She's my sister," he said as they walked out.

/Your sister? You don't look anything like her./

"Not my real sister... Near enough to. We were in an orphanage together."

I know. I was there.

/You're an orphan?/

"Yeah..."

Zell knew better than to push that subject after the tone that reply had been in. Hyne, did he know. He was just glad he'd got Ma.

They continued on in silence to the bike, and Irvine flipped open the seat compartment to put his hat there and retrieve the helmet before Zell even reached the bike. If the sharpshooter had much to drink, Rikan's little advance had sobered him up instantly. He wasn't at all affected anymore.

He paused with the helmet in his hands, eyes going far-away as his fingers shifted over the smooth surface.

"Hey..."

Zell cocked his head, coming up beside Irvine.

"...Nothin'..."

/Sure./

"Nevermind. C'mon. Let's go."

Zell didn't push it. They needed to get home. They both had class tomorrow. That felt weird. Even if he was teaching it was still strange to be having classes again. He also had to look after Seifer tomorrow and, knowing the gunbladist, he would make it as difficult as possible just to be annoying.

Even though he wasn't sick.

Zell flung a leg over the bike and settled down, kicking the stand up and waiting for Irvine to hop on behind him. Arms wound securely around his waist and Irvine pressed against his back, holding tight. He didn't do anything fancy this time, just drove off out of Balamb through the starlit night.

The grass swayed gently in a warm breeze and Irvine watched it quietly as they sped past, not quite so fast as they had previously. He appreciated that. The quiet was nice, and so was Rubedo's secure warmth against his front. He could feel the material of the biker's vest against his tummy where his shirt had ridden up a little and he had the fleeting thought of how it might feel if the shirt was entirely gone. That graduated into imagining the fingers wrapped around the handlebars playing instead with his piercings and Irvine blushed hotly, closing his eyes.

He spent the rest of the ride forcing himself to not think about things like that, and Rubedo had to reach back and lightly tap his face to make him realize they'd reached Garden. He started and hopped quickly off the bike, blushing again, and glad the biker couldn't see it. When his face had cooled again, though Rubedo was looking oddly at him by then for standing there with the helmet on, he finally removed it and handed it back in exchange for his hat.

"Listen... Rubedo... I..."

Zell cocked his head, stomach turning over, but then Irvine sighed and looked away.

"Nothin'... Anyway, thanks... thanks for everythin'. For the other day at Balamb and tonight... And... And you're a great singer."

/Thanks,/ he wrote, then; /I bet you are, too./

Irvine went pink, eyes turning up to the visor again. He was silent a long moment, then his words rushed out of him in a tumble.

"Please can I see your face? Please? I... I want to know who you are!"

Zell lifted his hands back to the handlebars, shaking his head. He had to go, now, before he gave in. He revved the bike.

"Please," Irvine whispered, looking close to tears again. "I want to know you if I see you in Garden. I might pass you ten times every day in the corridor and I wouldn't even know!"

Zell shook his head again, shifting on the bike and looking away.

"Please..."

Zell grit his teeth, tears pooling in his eyes, and sped off.

Irvine lowered his eyes, sighing. He wondered, as he trudged back to his room, if he would ever, in fact, learn who was under the helmet. Maybe Rubedo intended to keep it on incase he tired of seeing Irvine around and he wanted to escape. Maybe he just wanted to play with Irvine.

Maybe... Maybe...

Whatever it was, it didn't matter. Irvine still wanted to see him, and be friends with him, even if their entire friendship was based on written words and a song. He couldn't find it in him to be upset or worried about any of it. Rubedo was safe, nice. He honestly didn't think the man would ever hurt him.

He tiredly put the code into his room, feeling flat and exhausted now, and stepped inside, locking the door behind him and padding across to his bed, dropping pieces of clothing as he went and dropping onto the comfy mattress in his boxers with a huff.

His clock flashed at him.

2311.

If he squinted, the lit numbers were taunting him in glowing glee. 2311. ZELL. Fucker clock. He turned it away and buried his face in the pillows. He was dreading tomorrow's class.

But Rubedo was singing in his memories, so that made it better.

- - -

Seifer had dozed off on the couch in front of a program selling plush chocobos, dogs and cartoonified GF. Ifrit snarled and made a dirty comment about whomever had come up with the idea that he could ever be cute. It had got boring pretty fast.

He stirred awake when the door chimed softly and Zell entered, tearing his helmet off and throwing it aside. There were tears streaming down his face and he looked around as though he didn't know what to do with himself. Seifer ached.

"...Zell...?" he said softly.

"Seifer!" Zell whispered, choked, and fled to arms held readily open for him.

Zell was strong, stronger than Seifer had ever given him credit for way back when. But he was also very easily affected emotionally. Seifer guessed his emotions were as strong as the rest of him.

It seemed as though he just needed a good cry, because once he'd cried himself to hiccups against Seifer's shoulder, he calmed down fairly quickly. He refused to tell Seifer what had upset him so badly, but he told the details of the incident at the bar.

"Well, I don't think Rikan will be going close to him anytime soon," Seifer said, smirking.

"No," Zell agreed, smiling a little. "Hyne, I'm tired..."

"Go to sleep, then."

Seifer stroked his fingers through chocobo-gold locks and Zell was soon breathing steadily against his neck. He smiled, and wasn't far behind.