Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Lightning. ❯ Chapter, The Fifty-First: In Which Squall Ain’t in Love. ( Chapter 51 )

Kitty: I have to go! Short author notes. Enjoy the chapter. Behehehe. -runs-

Eoko: .... right.

Kitty: RIGHT! -hugs Eoko- Lubborsoo. Bai! -waves to all readers-

Chapter, The Fifty-First: In Which Squall Ain’t in Love.

“He’s with your Ma,” Seifer told Zell and, by extension, Selphie, Quistis and the Cadets, all of whom had met at the appointed time to update on their search patterns and degree of success. Zero for everyone else, perfect for Seifer. The irony of the fact that he had been the one to learn where Irvine had hidden wasn’t lost on Seifer.

Zell stood, looking determined, but Seifer wrapped a hand around his wrist and jerked him back down.

“Let me go,” Zell demanded.

“He needs time, Zell,” Seifer said, pissed off that he was actually protecting Irvine. “Nothing you do is going to make him realise he can’t live without you.”

Zell stared at him, looking stunned.

“He’s right, Zell,” Selphie put in while Seifer did his best to ignore the wave of hostility flowing in his general direction from the cluster of people that was the Cadets. His sudden replacement of Irvine in their group – which was already uneasy because of the attraction Rikan still held for Irvine and the fact that Selphie and Zell had become permanent fixtures – had resulted in utmost animosity, silent but vicious. In their eyes, he had ousted the sharpshooter, and taken his place. The gunbladist lounged in his chair and pretended he didn’t care.

“He’s at my Ma’s place! My Ma’s! He can’t just… I can’t… just…”

“You’ve got to,” Quistis said matter-of-factly. “He went because you were making him crazy visiting every day. We know he’s alright, now, we’ve just got to let him be.”

“He can’t live without you. Seifer’s right,” Anasha said softly.

But Zell had stopped listening. He was on the phone. Seifer made a grab for it, but Zell’s hand lashed out and wrapped around his wrist. A don’t-fuck-with-me look came to his eyes and he squeezed just enough to make Seifer hiss and know he was serious. The gunbladist relented and Zell let go.

“Ma?”

- - - - - - -

“Oh, hello, dear!” Ma Dincht said cheerfully, watching Irvine attentively while he stirred cake batter.

-Is he alright?-

“Well, what do you think, dear?” she arched a brow and lifted her shoulder to hold the phone against her ear while she showed the sharpshooter how to whisk egg whites until they were ‘forming peaks’. (1)

Irvine glanced questioningly at Ma, but she only smiled at him and waved him back to the recipe he was following. She already knew it was going to be a complete disaster – he’d put in two tablespoons of baking soda instead of two teaspoons, but she was a mother and knew people had to make their own mistakes in order to learn.

-I know. I… I never meant for… I didn’t want to hurt him, Ma! I didn’t… know… about Seifer.-

“Just add the sugar, now, and put it in a tray to bake, dear. I’ll be in the other room.”

She saw Irvine visibly relax, and knew the sharpshooter assumed that because she’d directly spoken to him, and therefore alerted the person on the other end to his presence, it couldn’t be Zell. But her boy already knew Irvine was here, so there was no point lying. She smiled at him and left.

“Well I always thought so, about you and him,” she said, seating herself and lifting some knitting into her lap.

-I know… It just never really hit me… I’m scared, Ma. I… I love them both… Is that… wrong? Am I… Am I str--

“You are most definitely not strange, Zell Rubedo Dincht!” she cut across him emphatically. “I didn’t raise a strange boy, I raised a loving one.”

-Oh, Ma… I hope you’re right…-

She could hear the tears in his voice and it broke her heart that they were both suffering so much from want of each other.

“I know I am,” she replied fiercely.

-Is he alright…?-

“He’s… better than he was. He goes to your room to cry, I know it. I check in on him at night and he’s always wrapped up completely in your blankets. And he won’t let me change the sheets.”

-Hyne…-

“He loves you.”

-He told me… he said… he hated me. He never wanted to see me again.-

“He lied.”

-Ma… Can I come over?-

“No. You have to wait for him. I don’t care how dominant you are, this time, he’s calling the shots.”

-Ma!-

“What?” she asked innocently, grinning. “It’s true, isn’t it? You’re top! How’s that work with Seifer…?”

-Oh Hyne, Ma! Stop it!-

“So you’re submissive to him, hmm?”

-Maaa!-

She grinned and looked up when Irvine stuck his head out of the kitchen.

“D’you want me to wash the lunch dishes?”

Zell had gone completely silent and she knew he was listening for Irvine’s voice.

“Oh, if you could, dear.”

“Righty-o.”

“Irvine,” ; she said before he could disappear and he looked at her again. She fished for a question. “I’ve got a friend here who’s having trouble breeding his chocobos. He says they just won’t get in the mood, if you know what I mean…”

He made a noise from the back of his throat and leant in the doorway and Ma was reminded all over again why Zell had fallen so hard for him. He was truly stunning, elegant, beautiful. It wasn’t a surprise, when she thought about it.

“Check their feed, chocobos won’t breed on just one sort of green. They need variety. Exercise. They don’t want to be penned in and rested, they need to be run twice a day – it gets their blood pumpin’. Don’t, like, expect them to breed in a stall neither. They like it better on real grass and with some space. Male chocobos are randy. You make sure they’re bein’ fed right and exercised, and they don’t need to be trapped with the girl. He’ll chase her, and that’s what she likes. Out in the wild, the fastest male catches the girl. It’s how they all stay strong. All ‘bout genes. So give them room to run, and they’ll, like, do what you want them to. ‘Nough information?”

-I love him so much, Ma…-

“Yes, Irvine. That’s enough. Thank you.”

“Anytime, Ma.” And he went back to the kitchen.

“Just give it time, Sweetheart,” she said softly, listening to him cry on the other end and knowing he’d be curled in Seifer’s lap. “Give it time.”

-Look after him, Ma…- Zell whispered.

“You know I will. I love you.”

-I love you, too, Ma.-

“Bye, love.”

-Bye, Ma.-

She hung up and rubbed her eyes, sighing.

“Ma?”

“Yes, Irvine?”

“I dropped the milk.”

She laughed as he blushed.

“It’s alright. I’ll go and buy some more.”

- - - - - - -

Irvine jumped when a knock came at the door, so involved had he been in the book he was reading. He looked up, biting his lower lip, then went to look through the peephole.

He was more than a little surprised to see Squall there.

He opened the door and invited Squall in through sheer politeness – and because he knew there was no way the gunbladist could be there for Zell’s sake, since they hadn’t spoken after the events in the training center. Of course, Squall had been right.

“I’m sorry, Irvine…” was the first thing Squall said once they were seated. “I’m really sorry.”

Irvine lowered his eyes, focusing on the liquid in his mug.

“Me, too.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“I don’t know. It’s all… just… shit. I miss him, you know? And I… hate that I miss him. I should be glad to, like, get rid of him.”

“Love’s strange that way,” Squall put in, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Irvine wondered at how strange the words sounded in the gunbladist’s mouth.

“Yeah… I do love him. So much… I… I just… I need him so bad… And I… I…”

And he was crying again. It seemed as though every little thing was apt to set him off and he couldn’t resist when Squall was suddenly there, pulling him off the chair and against his body, stroking his hair and kissing his temple. He clung to the gunbladist in Ma’s absence and let the soothing noises Squall made wash over him. It didn’t even occur to him to fight when the gunbladist tilted his head back and pressed a kiss to his mouth. He parted his lips and let it happen, and soon he was responding with a desperateness born of a need to just forget, tears still running down his face.

They were in Zell’s room, then, and Irvine shied away from letting Squall lay him down in the bed, where it smelt and felt of Zell. He wanted it to stay that way, so he pulled the gunbladist onto the floor instead, hands and mouths roaming and seeking. Clothes went, and Irvine arched to Squall’s touch and, for a while, he did forget.

- - - - - - -

Zell. Zell. Zell. Zell.

Every beat of his heart echoed the name, every pant against Squall’s damp hair. Irvine closed his eyes and he sighed, a small smile coming to his lips.

“Squall…” he whispered against the brunet’s ear.

“Mmm…?” Squall replied softly, sitting up to look at him through lidded storm-cloud eyes. He was gorgeous, there was no denying that, but Irvine felt as though he were looking at a painting or a photograph. It just didn’t touch him.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, anytime, Irvine,” came the soft purr.

The sharpshooter drew himself out from under Squall’s weight and stood, aware that Squall shifted onto his back and propped himself on his elbows to watch him, but mostly ignoring it. He went into the bathroom and ran the shower, and wasn’t really surprised when the gunbladist appeared at the doorway.

“No, you can’t join me,” he said before Squall even opened his mouth.

“But you said-”

“I said thank you. Thank you for makin’ me realise what I need, what I can’t survive without. Thank you for showin’ me no one else can be what Zell is, not for me. I, like, needed that.”

Squall stared at him as he stepped into the shower, hurrying the activity of washing himself and his hair.

“What?” the gunbladist growled after quite a long time.

“You just don’t do it for me, Squall. I’m real sorry.”

“What?!” he cried again, then crudely: “You sure screamed well enough.”

Irvine made an amused sound and shook his head to get his hair out his eyes, rinsing it quickly.

“Darlin’, if you think that’s screamin’, you, like, need to hear what Zell does to me.”

“But… what about… what about Seifer?”

“If I have to share, I have to share. Don’t mean I have to like the arsehole, but if I can have Zell half the time, so he can have the other half, then it’s better than not havin’ him at all. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand only havin’ the bed he sleeps in, instead of havin’ him, and sleepin’ in it with him.”

Squall was still staring.

“I don’t understand.”

“You ain’t in love.”

- - - - - - -

Zell and Seifer looked up from their unenthusiastic game of Triple Triad in Seifer’s room when the doorbell rang. The gunbladist glanced at the fighter, then went to answer the door.

When he saw who it was, he stepped forward, forcing the man back and letting the door slide shut behind him.

“You here to hurt him some more?”

Seifer could see it took every ounce of will the sharpshooter possessed to stand his ground, to keep meeting the gunbladist’s gaze and not just run away. He had to respect that, despite the fact that he’d rather just smack Irvine one and send him packing.

“No. I… Can I see him? Please?”

“Fuck off.”

“No.”

That surprised him. The sharpshooter really did have spine. Who knew?

“What do you want?”

“Zell.” The feeling in the word was unmistakable and Seifer knew how he felt. “I… when he weren’t in his room, I figured he’d, like, be here and I… Please, I have to see him.”

“I’m not letting go,” Seifer told him harshly.

“I don’t expect you to… If… we gotta share, we gotta. I… can if you can.”

“Just so you know, I still don’t like you. But I can’t stand the way he is right now. It kills me. So go on. If you break anything in my room, I’ll kill you. Also, go somewhere else if you must… you know. I’ll be in Zell’s room. …So don’t go there if you must… yeah.”

And with that, he strode off, leaving Irvine to stare after him, a brow arched. He turned to knock again when the door hissed open of its own volition. Zell had gotten curious about what was taking Seifer so long.

They stood, both of them resembling nothing so much as stunned cactuars, and Zell was first to break the deafening silence.

“I-Irvine…?” he choked and moved as if to touch him, restraining himself only with great effort.

Irvine had no such restraint. He flung himself into the fighter’s arms, and welcomed the desperate kisses he gave.

“Zell… Oh, Zell…” he said between kisses. “I realised… I know… I can’t… I can’t be without you… Please… please… say I can share you… Say you’ll let me… be with you as… well as Seifer… Please, please…”

Zell stopped the rain of kisses, then, and looked hard at Irvine.

“Are you sure? That’s what you want? You’d do it…?”

Irvine hesitated, hands fisting in Zell’s sleeves as though afraid the fighter might disappear or run away.

“Well… sayin’ it’s, like, what I want is a bit of an exaggeration, but… but I’ll do it. For you… for you, I’ll do it. Zell… it’s been like hell without you. Nothin’s right, nothin’s real… Everythin’ hurts inside of me and I… I just love you so much…”

Zell drew him closer, brushing gentle kisses over closed eyelids.

“I love you, Irvine. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

“I know. I know you are.” He paused, then knew he had to be honest. “Zell… before you… make a decision, before you say yes, I gotta tell you… you need to know why I’m here, what made me realise… And it might… it might make you change your mind about what you want to do…”

“It couldn’t. Nothing could make me not want you, Irvine…”

Irvine glanced away, fingers tightening in the material, and he swallowed, then said softly; “I slept with Squall…”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(1) Stupidist baking directive ever… How tall should the peaks be? How solid should they be? How easily should they ‘form’?! Argh!