Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Lightning. ❯ Chapter, The Fifty-Third: In Which Zell is Forced to Choose. ( Chapter 53 )

Kitty: OMGosh, readers! Kitty got a job! Yay! XD

Eoko: And Eoko got suckered into doing cash for two nights! Thankfully one is done. Christmas work hours suck balls. Hehe... ball, christmas... hahahahhaa

Kitty: This chapter is very appropriate! Though, how FF8 characters end up with Christmas boggles the mind... Heh.

Eoko: I read one fic where there was Hynemas for the whole thing, then one slip of 'Christmas' at the end, but that was cool. Besides, it's easier to write about events we know rather than make up random ones.

Kitty: Maybe it got transmitted to them on some random radio waves, like all the random songs of ours that they love so much. -grins-

Eoko: At least I came up with logical reasoning for that one...

Kitty: Totally. It makes sense. Hmm... can I have my own Irvine for Christmas...?

Eoko: -snickers- I can.

Kitty: Shut up, you. Let them read the story.

Chapter, The Fifty-Third: In Which Zell is Forced to Choose.

“You’re what? …Oh, yeah… Mmm… I didn’t realise. …No, it’s fine. I’ll go with Rikan, Illo, Hiro and Terry…” Irvine laughed, eyes sliding across Selphie and Anasha to Rikan. “I won’t. …No, I promise. I promise! …Yeah, it’s okay. I swear. Bye. I’ll see you there. Goodbye, Zell.”

“So?” Illo asked, brows lifting.

“Can someone please stop them…” Irvine muttered, hiding his eyes from Selphie and Anasha’s… enthusiasm for one another.

The comment, of course, made Selphie giggle and plunge her tongue deeper in her lover’s mouth, at which Anasha melted against her, fingers twisting in the yellow material of Selphie’s still-favouritist dress. He guessed that reaction wasn’t limited to him, then. Good.

“Break out the crowbar,” Hiro cried. “So glad the girls are shopping on their own…”

“But I’m a girl!” Harada complained. “Come on, you two! Give it a rest!”

“Anyway,” Selphie said as she broke away from her lover. “What did Zell say, Irvy?”

“That he’s goin’ with Seifer to pick out theirs, ‘cause he ain’t got anyone else go with.”

“That’s because he’s a murdering maniac,” Rikan muttered.

“Hey, now. He may be an arse, but he weren’t in control when stuff happened. Don’t say shit like that,” Irvine said, then blinked when he realised he’d just defended Seifer. Damn Seifer, making him defend him… Still it was true, and Irvine knew that Zell wouldn’t like to hear that sort of thing about the gunbladist.

Speaking of gunbladists…

“Squall at eight o’clock…”

“You dickhead, Illo, that’s nine o’clock,” Terry corrected.

“Who cares? He’s coming.”

The Cadets closed rank around Irvine, glaring at Squall, who ignored them and muscled past Harada then planted his hands on his hips.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“There ain’t nothin’ to talk about. It weren’t nothin’, it meant nothin’, ‘cept for makin’ me understand what I were missin’. Listen, Zell said-”

“You let him dictate to you now?” Squall muttered disgustedly, running a hand through his hair.

“Actually, he said he was goin’ to kill you if he caught you anywhere near me. Want to test it?” Irvine flipped open his phone.

“Fuck you, Kinneas,” he growled and Irvine just grinned.

“No. Thanks.”

“Piss off, Squall!” Selphie piped, and Squall glared at them, but went.

“Really…” Irvine muttered, shaking his head. “Let’s go, then, before the girls start again…”

“Suits, ahoy!” Illo cried, and marched off, the other men on his tail.

“Well we’ll knock your socks off when you see us!” Selphie called after them.

“It doesn’t matter!” Terry called back. “Two of you are gay!”

- - - - - - -

“It’s like a fucking Christmas elf threw up or exploded… or both…” Seifer muttered as they stepped into the ballroom, clad in their suits as commanded by one Selphie Tilmitt. It was beyond anyone why she had made the “Belated Christmas New Year Super Bonanza” a black-tie affair, but the SeeDs and cadets had long ago learned it was better not to argue with her.

Hanging above a table piled high with various Christmas delights was a massive banner that read Merry Happy Christmas New Year! and tinsel and fake snow was absolutely everywhere. There were three musically inclined cadets in one corner dressed – obviously under sufferance – as red-and-green striped Christmas elves while they played Christmas songs. Two giant trees stood, one at each end of the ballroom, and they were decorated with candles and silver “Happy New Year!” signs. Selphie hadn’t forgotten, of course, the mistletoe.

“Now, now. Be nice,” Zell said, reaching up to straighten Seifer’s tie. The gunbladist’s suit was such a dark burgundy, it was almost black, and his tie was a few shades lighter. The shirt beneath was a dark blue. He batted at Zell’s hands.

“Stop fussing,” he muttered.

Zell only grinned. His own suit was red, and only Zell Rubedo Dincht could pull off a suit of that colour. He wore a plain white shirt beneath and a blue bowtie that Seifer had accused of blinding him. Nevertheless, he looked good, and they both knew it. The fact that he’d left his bangs free to hang softly around his face and in his sapphire eyes certainly helped.

The fighter caught site of Squall in a black suit and narrowed his eyes at the brunet gunbladist. The very fact that Squall Leonhart existed was now enough to make Zell want to kill him. He had orchestrated the whole thing just so he could get in Irvine’s pants. Seifer’s hand against the small of his back calmed him somewhat and they went to find somewhere to sit down.

“Oh, Hyne, and I thought you were ridiculously bright…” Seifer said out the side of his mouth suddenly and Zell glanced up to follow the gunbladist’s gaze.

Rikan stood about three steps in front of the rest of The Cadets and it was obvious they just didn’t want to be seen with him. No wonder. His suit was iridescent pink.

“No wonder gays have a bad name… and he’s not even full on gay…” Zell groaned, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Full on gay…?” Seifer questioned but didn’t get a reply.

“Rikan! Just go… burry yourself in fake snow or something…” They distinctly heard Harada’s voice across the ballroom and she pushed Rikan forward, his suit looking even more iridescent against the pale sky blue of her elegant gown.

“So was Irvine going for a suit or a dress? I’m confused…” Seifer said snidely, then winced when Zell hit him under the table.

“He let you have me to go shop for your suit, so be civil, at least, would you?” the fighter muttered, and Seifer looked suitably chagrined.

“It’s got to be the pierced nipples…” the gunbladist said under his breath and Zell’s head whipped around so fast he would swear he heard the air displace with its passing.

“What?! How do you…?”

“Uh… remember when he broke my nose?”

Zell snickered.

“Shut up. Anyway, he was only in a towel.”

Seifer was surprised to find his body stirred a little at that memory, and even more surprised when he realised he could picture it very clearly. He snapped out of it when Zell waved a hand in front of his face.

“Were you imagining my other boyfriend in only a towel…?” Zell wondered.

“Fuck, no,” Seifer lied. “Anyway, there he is. In a suit.”

It was the perfect way to divert Zell’s attention and Seifer congratulated himself. Then he had to grudgingly congratulate Irvine to himself on looking good in the suit he wore. It was, like Seifer’s, almost dark enough to be black, but it was purple and, by the looks of it, crush velvet. His tie was lilac – unbelievably gay, but not like Rikan. It looked good on the sharpshooter. He hadn’t dispensed with his hat, but had one that matched the suit. He smiled when he saw Zell.

“I love velvet!” Zell exclaimed.

Damn, Seifer thought. Why didn’t I think of that? Perfect way to get Zell’s hands all over him…

Indeed, as Irvine came over and sat down, Zell’s hand reached out and slid up his thigh, fangs showing in a predatory smirk. It was funny, Seifer mused, that Zell never smirked like that at him.

“I love velvet, Baby,” Zell repeated and Irvine smiled.

“I know,” the sharpshooter replied, glancing self-consciously at Seifer. “You look great… Both of you.”

Seifer was surprised by that, but he nodded a little at Irvine. He supposed he ought to try and be somewhat civil, at least when Zell was sitting right there between. If it would make Zell happy, he supposed he could even put up with pansy-boy…

“You look edible,” Zell replied, licking his lips.

Irvine smiled and barely blushed, which also surprised Seifer. He didn’t seem so annoying anymore… Which was not a good thing to be thinking. He had a reputation to uphold, dammit!

“Well, I do try,” the sharpshooter murmured. “I need a drink.” He stood, hand briefly brushing Zell’s shoulder, and went in search of one.

“When are they going to put on the real music…?” Seifer wondered darkly.

“When all the kiddies have gone to bed,” Zell replied.

“Off you go, then.”

Zell hit him and Seifer just grinned. He noticed Squall trying to look obscure and watch Irvine at the same time. The word ‘obsessed’ didn’t even seem to cover what Squall was anymore. Zell had told him what had happened between the two of them that made Irvine come back to the fighter, and Seifer thought it was low, even for Squall. He certainly wouldn’t have stooped that low. He ignored the fact that he had, in fact, allowed Zell to cheat on Irvine with him.

When he next looked up, Squall was at Irvine’s side, a hand against the small of his back. Irvine looked bored, but not really worried, and seemed able to handle himself. Surely Squall wouldn’t do anything stupid with Zell only half a room away anyway. He tried to turn his full attention back to Zell but found his eyes drifting back to Irvine and Squall. The fourth time, the brunet had pulled Irvine five steps to one side – under a sprig of mistletoe.

He wouldn’t dare… Seifer thought – but he did.

Squall’s fingers twisted in the lapels of Irvine’s suit and drew him closer, into a kiss. Irvine’s own hands came up to the gunbladist’s chest, pushing, but of course he wasn’t as strong as Squall.

Seifer was out of his chair and striding through milling party-goers before he even realised what he was doing. In a heartbeat, he was fisting a hand in the back of Squall’s jacket and jerking him bodily away.

“You don’t give the fuck up, do you? No means no!” Seifer growled and shoved Squall away. He hit one of the tables, sending it crashing to the ground, and ended up sprawled in squashed party food and spilled punch. People gasped and turned to see what was going on.

Zell was there, suddenly, staring at Seifer and Irvine looked much the same. Seifer blinked several times, looking back and forth between the two of them. Their blue eyes asked the same question his own brain was asking him; Why did you do that? But he didn’t have an answer. He groped for one in silence, then finally muttered;

“What? Like Commander Fancy-Pants is allowed to have his mouth all over my lover’s lover…”

And with that, he stalked back to their table, Irvine and Zell staring after him. Slowly, as a couple of Selphie-helpers came to clean up, the party began to return to normal.

“He…” Irvine said abortively.

“I know,” Zell replied, running a hand through his bangs. Then he looked at Irvine and drew him close, touching his face and his hair. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. It were just a kiss.”

There was a sound as Squall stood from the debris of table and food and Zell turned to glare at him. It was such a vicious glare that Squall actually flinched and he slunk out of the ballroom, probably fearing for his life.

“Woooooow!” Selphie was saying (squealing) as they returned to Seifer and their table. “That was so awesomely awesome! He so totally deserved that, and I would have done it, but you know I’m too little and it never would have worked! Plus, I would have probably ruined my dress. Isn’t it the most gorgeousest dress ever of all time? When I saw it, I said ‘Selphie,’ I said, ‘This is the most gorgeousest dress ever of all time and this is the dress you need to wear to the Belated Christmas New Year Super Bonanza’. Do you know why I said that? I said that because I knew Anasha would – Oh, wow! Zell, that suit is sooo cool, and it looks so good on you. You wouldn’t think a red suit could look good, but on you, it looks good and especially beside Irvine and Seifer in darker colours! It’s like-”

“Thanks, Selphie,” Zell said with a grin and she beamed and flounced off.

“How do you do that…?” Seifer muttered, rubbing his temples as though he had a headache. Irvine chuckled as he sat, drink in hand.

“You have to know the right, like, tone of voice. I swear it’s like tryin’ to gentle a headstrong chocobo. Plus I’m pretty sure she’s already been into the alcoholic punch.”

Seifer opened his mouth to say something snide about cowboys and chocobos, but Zell’s sharp look stopped him. Damn Zell knowing him too well… The fighter’s hand came to his knee under the table and suddenly, insulting Irvine didn’t seem so important, even if it was pathetic how everything seemed to come back to chocobos with him.

Of course, the graciousness didn’t last all night, and he couldn’t resist asking at some stage; “Does this barman make Cocksucking Cowboys?”

“Zell wouldn’t know,” Irvine replied, probably courtesy of the five rum-and-cokes he’d put away. “He don’t need one from the bar, ‘cause he’s already, like, got one.”

Zell coughed around a mouthful of his own drink, then burst out laughing while Irvine looked proud of himself and Seifer stared in shock. Since when had the cowboy not blushed at something like that?

For his part, Zell was enjoying himself immensely. For once, his two lovers seemed to be getting on alright, he was pleasantly tipsy, and Squall was nowhere in sight. They, all three of them, danced when Seifer’s ‘real music’ came on, Zell always between the other two, or one of them dancing or chatting with someone else while the other danced with him. It was an unbelievable night, and they all rang in the new year together, while Selphie danced on a table.

Then it got hard.

They stood outside the ballroom, all of them a little drunk, all of them wanting, hands on his shoulder, in his hair, at his arse, on his chest. He shivered and their eyes met above his head.

“Zell…” they said at the same time, and he had no idea what to do.

They were both so beautiful and he loved them both so much and he wanted them both with equal passion. How was he supposed to choose one, knowing it would hurt the other, and knowing he would miss the other, even as he lost himself in the chosen one? A night like this was supposed to end in your lover’s arms, but which lover?

Which lover?!

“I don’t… I… think maybe… Maybe we should all go home to… to our own places…”

It killed him to say it. They both blinked at him, then glanced at each other and Irvine sighed.

“I guess that, like, makes sense…” he said, realising what Zell was doing. It was better than choosing one over the other. Still, he desperately wanted Zell to make love to him. Ever since their enforced separation, Irvine had found himself unable to get enough of his stocky little lover, no matter how many times they slept together.

Seifer said nothing, only gave a sharp nod and turned on his heel, striding off. They both knew it was as close as he would get to acceptance, and Zell was only glad he hadn’t argued. He turned back to Irvine and pulled him close, pressing a gentle kiss to his beautiful lips.

“I’m sorry, Baby… I can’t-”

“It’s alright. I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow…” Irvine murmured, running his fingers gently through Zell’s hair before he turned and headed for his room.

Zell fled back to his room, stripped down to his boxers and proceeded to beat his punching bag senseless, then beat it some more. He had failed as a lover, to both of them. They’d gone home unsatisfied, needing him, loving him, wanting him and completely unfulfilled. He was supposed to be there for them, take care of them, let them take care of him…

Instead, they were alone, and he was alone. It was New Years, Hynedammit! No one should be alone on New Years.

His punching bag suffered for the rest of the night.

- - - - - - -

The red light on his answering machine was blinking when he got in, and Irvine frowned at it, wondering who the hell could have left a message. Everyone who might be calling him had been at the party. He rewound the message and went to change while it played.

Hi. You’ve reached the living sex god Irvine Kinneas. Leave a message, unless you want him, in which case, don’t, because I already got him! Ha!

Irvine stared, wide-eyed at his machine. When the hell had Zell put that message on it?! Damn him. He chuckled, then fell silent as the caller’s voice came through.

Next time, we decide before the party.

That was it, but it was enough. There was no mistaking Seifer Almasy’s voice, and there was no question as what he was talking about. Irvine stood still where he was as the answering machine reset itself, eyes a little faraway. He would agree with that, but only if it was what Zell wanted to do.

The fighter had been effectively dividing his time between his lovers, and not once had Irvine smelled or tasted Seifer on Zell’s skin, though he knew they were sleeping together. He assumed it was the same for Seifer – that Zell never let either of them sense any trace of the other. It hadn’t been a problem until tonight. Not for him anyway.

That’s a lie, and you, like, know it.

Okay, so maybe it was a bit of a problem. But he didn’t feel at all neglected.

Until tonight.

And he knew it wasn’t fair to feel that way. Zell had made the right choice by making no choice. One of them would have been hurt if the fighter had chosen one of them – he knew he would have hated to know Seifer had been chosen over him, and that he and Zell were making love while he was alone.

But Seifer was right. Next time, they would have to decide before the party.