Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Star Light ❯ Chapter 1
//Star-Light: Chapter 1//
//By Julie
//rated NC-17 for explicit sexual scenes
//yaoi content. Male/male having sex, getting each other off
//Parings: Squall/Seifer then Squall/Zell
//Disclaimer: Don't own them. But I wish I did - as do most normal people. But ONE DAY! they will be mine. Oh yes, they WILL be mine!!!
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Zell sat in the crowed room. He'd never felt this nervous in his entire life. Before, when he'd first come, it had been an excited nervous feeling. But now, it was a sick nervous feeling. He wanted to leave. Wanted to go home. This place, alone here, without friends, wasn't where he'd planned to be. Although he'd accepted the invitation willingly, he desperately wished he hadn't come.
It was a party. Sort of. It was more like a gathering of groupies out to try to fuck as many people as possible. Everyone was getting drunk, stoned, and/or blown. Most girls were half naked, and most were on their knees. That aside from the large number of boys on their knees as well.
Zell was here because his best friend Selphie had given him her invitation. Selphie had been so completely disappointed about not being able to go to this party for the most popular band in the entire world: Blood Kiss. It was the first time she'd been invited to anything of this sort (otherwise, she'd never had suggested Zell go to this party at all. And she'd probably have some horror story about the experience. But no, she'd never been to one of these parties.)
Selphie knew this boy from a concert she'd gone to for Hallows a couple months back. Selphie had really liked the boy, and Zell had got the impression that the boy had been nice. It was impossible to think that Selphie could have a friend who'd invite her to a place like this.
Zell hadn't talked to the boy that much. But he did remember his name: Irvine. He was a couple years older then Zell, probably 20 or so. He had a nice smile and an easy disposition. He was laid back and comfortable while talking idly with Zell during the car ride. Zell couldn't believe that this boy knowingly took him to this fuck-for-all place.
Then abandoned him to the crowd.
Zell sat in the crowed room, alone, begging inside his mind to go home. So far he hadn't seen a single band member from Blood Kiss, and Zell wondered if they were even going to show up, or if this was some sort of sick worship party/orgy.
A few times Zell had to turn down some very pushy people. Some actually jumped onto his lap and tried to kiss him. Zell had managed so far to get them all to leave him alone after a few snorts of disapproval from his suitors. Everyone kept offering him alcohol and drugs (and blow jobs). Every second made Zell more and more nervous. He wanted to throw up, the butterflies in his stomach twirling around like a hurricane.
Zell wanted to leave. But he'd taken the ride with that Irvine-cowboy. And they were in the middle of nowhere. It was a giant mansion/house surrounded by nothing but grassy fields every where. So Zell waited for when Irvine would be ready to leave, trying to keep his eye on the brunette cowboy, incase the boy decided to strand Zell there.
Zell nearly jumped as the double door to the room burst open and, to his utter surprise, the band he'd been waiting to see walked in.
Blood Kiss. The most popular rock group in the entire world. Lead up by the sexy, quiet Griever as lead singer. His lover, Flare, the main attraction of the band and lead guitarist. Thoran was the second guitarist, and probably the least popular member of the band (but by no means not liked.) Dami, the drummer, the oldest of the band, and the most flamboyant of the group. The bass player was Hazen, the least talented member of the band, but still a decent addition, and by no means unattractive.
Zell would have normally been dumbfounded in the present of the great Rock Stars, but the arrival of the band only meant to signal the night as just beginning. And with the band entered more and more people to add to the tiresome drain on Zell's normally excited, happy disposition.
~*~
The night wore on just the same as it always did for Squall (aka Griever). He'd been dragged to another one of these stupid orgy fests. He hated his life off the stage. On stage he felt relaxed, and his entire personality changed into that of a Super Star. He was able to scream at the top of his lungs, dance around, jump into a crowd of people trying to rip his clothes off, laugh, smile, sing, kiss, feel.
Off stage Squall was soft spoken, whenever he chose to speak that is. And that wasn't often. His voice was never above a soft, near whisper tone. Smooth and indifferent. He never smiled, let alone laughed. He kissed, but only Seifer. No one was allowed to touch him, again except Seifer. He didn't dance and didn't have fun. And he certainly didn't feel.
Seifer (aka Flare), wasn't Squall's lover. Squall was indifferent to everything around him. Nothing mattered.
He was only in this band because he'd been dating Seifer at the time (a few years back) when Seifer started this band. Seifer had been writing a song one night. He'd been working all night, going over the same song, trying to find the right - perfect - way to make the song flow. It was four in the morning and Squall was near ready to kill Seifer for keeping him up all night. Squall had jumped out of the bed, naked, stomped across the room and ripped the sheet music from Seifer's hands. At the moment Seifer was about to yell his anger, Squall sang the lines, sang the entire song perfectly, then flung the papers back at Seifer with a glare, turning to head back to bed.
Seifer made Squall the singer the next morning, dumping their old singer (who'd been half decent) without a second thought. So Squall was the singer. He was still indifferent about it. Except maybe a small portion of his inner mind that admitted he liked the alive feeling he got from being on stage.
Squall felt nothing for Seifer. He never had. He'd only dated the large blonde because, well, Squall had a thing for blue eyed, blondes with muscular bodies. Seifer was hot and Squall was a teenager with raging hormones. And sex with the large blonde was nothing to sneeze at. Seifer was one intense lay. But Squall felt nothing emotionally for Seifer. If Seifer never spoke to Squall for the rest of their lives, Squall wouldn't have cared. Not one -single- bit.
They still slept together occasionally. Well, maybe more then occasionally. Seifer had boyfriends and girlfriends all the time. But he never found anyone he liked or loved as much as he did Squall. The only reason he was no longer with Squall was because he knew Squall felt nothing for him. And Seifer had too much living to do to deal with the stoic nature of the Griever.
Seifer was still the only one Squall ever fucked, kissed, or even touched, though.
Squall walked through the room, keeping near the dark shadows of the room, stalking around like a lion hunting prey. Although Squall had no prey. He was just alone, hunting for something he knew he'd never find.
Turning to head to the nearest door to the balcony, Squall sighed. Outside he hoped to find fresh air, unsoiled by the disgusting smell of sweaty bodies, cum, smoke, and alcohol.
Stopping dead in his tracks, Squall turned to the couch near the wall across the room. Instinct had told him to do so. And there, alone yet surrounded, was a young, tattooed boy who looked more afraid then anything else. And that fear only seemed to draw the harpies to him.
The blonde boy had a couple of older men pushing drinks to him. The men's hands wandered to portions of the boy that were sacred and probably still virgin. The boy's only response was to act uneasy, squirming away from them, looking more fearful then ever.
Squall suddenly noticed his lips were completely dry and his breathing had increased to a heavy pace. Licking his lips, Squall thought a moment over what he should do. The only way to keep those harpies from plucking the poor boy was for Squall to lay claim on him. And maybe act upon the claim, because he'd never picked anyone up from these parties before, and Squall had a feeling none of the people here would believe he'd actually claim the sexual rights to anyone.
An icy cold, wet thing pressed to the back of Squall's neck, but Squall didn't jump, he didn't move for that matter. As though whatever it was pressing to him wasn't there at all.
"Cub?" the amused voice of Squall's only friend chuckled from behind. The icy cold, wet thing moved away then Squall felt it being pressed to his hands.
Squall looked down to the glass being handed to him. He accepted it, but didn't drink.
"I poured it myself, Cub," Seifer purred into Squall's ear.
Squall glanced back at the large blonde.
Seifer smirked, one fang showing between his lips. "I don't need to drug you to fuck you."
Squall turned, indifferent to the comment. He brought the glass to his lips, sipping slowing. The taste of vodka filled his mouth then burned down his throat.
Squall continued to watch the young blonde, seeing the boy accept a drink, but not drinking any of the contents. "My Fire?" Squall said the pet name, calling Seifer's attention to an actual conversation.
"Cub?" Seifer replied, wrapping his arm around Squall, looking across the room, trying to find where Squall's eyes focused.
"The young blonde," Squall whispered, giving Seifer more direction.
But Seifer had already seen. A young, tattooed, blonde boy; beautiful and sweet; uneasy and afraid.
"Hyne above!" Seifer chuckled amused. "Cub, you finally broken down? Groupies gotten to ya? Gonna fuck the little tyke, ne?"
Squall breathed slowly, letting the disgusting air fill his lungs.
Seifer watched the young blonde a while longer before asking "Want me to stop those guys?" He commented on the men slowly milking away the blonde boy's resilience.
Squall felt the air flow stop, he couldn't breath. Honestly, Squall knew he wouldn't be able to just stand here that much longer. He was near ready to walk over there and rip those men's heads off. How dare they try to contaminate something so pure?
Almost ready to just give up the conversation and go find his current boyfriend, Seifer noticed the slow growing glare on Squall's icy mask. And Squall's breathing had increased to a heavy, near angry pace. Seifer couldn't help but smile.
Taking a step forward, Seifer moved passed Squall, heading to the young blonde on the couch.
Squall watched Seifer say a few words to the men, their faces turning shocked - glancing over to Squall's position, before nodding and standing up, walking away.
Squall brought the glass to his lips taking a long, deep drink, drowning his empty stomach with the full of the alcohol from the glass. Pulling the glass from his lips, Squall turned, satisfied, continuing to his final destination: the balcony.
~*~
Zell watched Flare walk over, shocked to see the sexy blonde heading straight to him. Then Flare said something and all the people bothering Zell got up and left. Flare smiled a coy grin at Zell, winking, then turning to walk away.
Zell breathed for the first time in what seemed like forever. Flare had saved him. Thank the Divine Mother!
Zell felt his shoulders relax and some of his bravery began to grow a little stronger. It was a horrible place to be, but everyone was completely leaving him alone now. Which was fine with Zell. All Zell wanted was to get the fuck out of here without problem. Sitting here, alone for the rest of the night was no problem for Zell, as long as it would be over!
Absently, Zell brought the drink in his hands to his lips, downing the alcohol. He needed a fucking drink to calm down. He was too nervous and scared, even though some of his confidence had been bandaged and put back into place.
~*~
An hour later Squall slowly sipped his 2nd glass of vodka. He preferred the balcony to the smoky room inside. Not that he didn't drink, smoke cigarettes, or have sex (he tried to stay away from drugs, although from time to time he did take them).
People were out here as well. Squall was by no means alone. But it was much calmer out here, and away from those stupid groupies.
Why did his band come to these stupid things? None of them, not a single one! had sex with anyone from these places. He and his band members only choose to fuck people they knew and had probably fucked before. No nasty surprises that way.
Squall only fucked Seifer. But Seifer did change boyfriends and girlfriends constantly.
Not that Seifer wasn't careful who he fucked. And Seifer certainly didn't choose to date anyone below his standards, which are high.
Most of the time Seifer dated people that worked with the band, two or three times Seifer had meet a future boy/girlfriend at a bar during late night hours. Only one time Squall could recall Seifer picking up someone from one of these groupie parties. And that was Kent, Seifer's current boyfriend of three months now (a record for Seifer.)
Squall did approve of Kent, which might be why Seifer stayed with the brown haired man for this record length relationship. Kent wasn't a groupie or a slut. Just a guy who'd wanted to meet the band so badly he'd pushed past the party's horrible accessories, waiting to meet Blood Kiss. (Kent, unlike Zell, had known exactly what these type of parties entailed.)
Turning, Squall walked slowly back inside. He was getting bored, figuring he'd put enough time to the party to excuse himself for the night. Sipping the Vodka, Squall turned instinctly towards his pure, tattooed blonde, who he expected to be sitting alone like he'd left. But the boy was with two other men, Squall knew to be Clark and Martin (they worked on the stage set).
The glass in Squall's hands nearly slipped away when Squall watched Clark's lips locked with his young boy's. Martin's hands were gliding over the private, virgin places on the blonde's body.
Squall slowly stalked his way across the room, straight towards Clark and Martin.
Arriving at his destination, Squall reached down to Martin's shoulder, pressing his hand down.
Martin jumped, looking up to Squall. "Grieve!" Martin exclaimed.
Clark pulled away from the blonde's lips, looking up to Squall as well.
Squall eyed from one man to the other.
Both quickly jumped up and away from the young blonde.
"Shit, Griever!" Martin said. "Didn't realize... Well, I heard he was Grievance territory, but I didn't think you'd actually..."
Squall stared, his indifferent mask showing small cracks of anger.
"Fuck! We didn't do anything to the kid," Clark quickly said. "Just barely sat down."
Squall let his silence continue, waiting for the two men to hurry away.
And they soon did, leaving Squall to finally look down at the young blonde.
Squall closed his eyes at the sight. Damn it, he'd been right. His claim had been challenged because he hadn't acted upon it. And now the poor kid's pants were unzipped, his shirt partially unbuttoned, and he was fucking drugged.
Kneeling down in front of the boy, Squall reached over and picked up a glass off the small, round table next to the couch. Squall smelled the glass, then brought it to his lips, dipping his tongue into the contents just slightly.
The whiskey had a slightly off taste, but someone who didn't drink every day probably wouldn't have noticed. And the young boy looked like he'd barely drank at all, if ever before tonight.
Squall set the glass back down before sighing. Squall reached up and pushed the kid's crotch down, pulling his pants together to re-zip and button them. Then Squall reached up and started to button the shirt.
"Um?" the boy said sleepily. His eyes had been fluttering open and closed, but he couldn't make since of his surroundings that well.
Squall pushed off the ground and sat on the couch next to the kid.
"What's your name?" Squall whispered.
The boy's bright sapphire eyes locked with Squall's cloudy grey/blue spheres. A half smile formed on the kid's lips as he spoke. "Zell." His voice was sweet, innocent, and unknowing.
Squall reached up, closing his eyes, running his fingers along his facial scar. Opening his eyes, Squall was able to look at the child, Zell, again.
"Are you tired?" Squall asked, his voice still in his normal whispered hush.
Zell nodded, his eyes closing, the same smile still on his lips. Opening his eyes, Zell looked around the room. Everything was fuzzy and he couldn't quiet make out anything to be real. Hell, he wasn't sure if he was real.
"Would you like to come with me?" Squall asked, knowing the answer to the question would be a 'yes.'
Zell turned to face Squall again, smiling at him. "Sure. Where?" the same innocent tone rang through the air.
Squall stood up, holding his hand out to Zell. Zell accepted the hand, letting Squall lead him slowly out of the nosy room.
~*~
Squall held onto Zell's hand tightly still, even through they were inside his private room.
The bedroom door clicked shut and Squall bolted the two locks into place, hooking the chain lock over as well.
Squall then turned to pull Zell lightly to his bed. Sitting the young blonde down, Squall finally released his hand.
"Why are we 'ere?" Zell asked, looking around.
"May I take off your jacket?" Squall asked, looking into Zell's eyes.
"'Kay," Zell answered, watching Squall moved to take off his jacket.
"And your shirt? May I remove it?" Squall asked, tossing the jacket carefully on the nearby chair.
"'Kay," Zell answered again, still letting Squall remove his clothes without a problem.
Stopping after he'd removed Zell's shirt, Squall looked over the boy's chest in awe. He was built beautifully. Who could have guessed the young kid would have such a body underneath his loose fitting clothes? Zell was ultimately the most beautiful creature Squall had ever seen in his entire life. And Squall thought Seifer had a good body! Hyne above, give Squall willpower. He wouldn't fuck the kid. He wouldn't fuck the kid!
Squall tossed the shirt to join the jacket. "Your shoes? Would you let me remove them?" Squall asked, again locking eyes with the boy.
"'Kay," Zell answered.
Squall removed the shoes
In all honestly if Squall had asked to fuck Zell, Zell's answer probably would have been "'Kay." Asking Zell the questions about removing his clothes was pointless, but Squall had to for his own sake. He would have felt like he was doing something wrong otherwise.
"How old are you, Zell?" Squall asked, meeting Zell's sapphire spheres.
"15!" Zell said proudly.
Squall breathed a moment, wondering how a young boy could have a body such as this.
"Are you tired?" Squall asked, looking over the boy's figure.
Zell smiled, nodding. "Yeah."
"Get under the covers," Squall ordered, watching Zell fidget with the blankets underneath him, trying to shift his tired body to follow Squall's instructions.
Squall stood up tall, about to step back. Zell's hand reached up and caught Squall's wrist.
"Do I know ya?" Zell asked, pulling Squall back down.
Squall resisted to fight Zell, instead he sat on the bed beside the boy. "I'm Griever."
Zell thought a moment then his eyes went wide. "Of Blood Kiss?"
Squall nodded.
Zell smiled. "Ya're really nice!"
Squall felt the odd sensation of something pulling at the side of his mouth. He pushed the twitch away, keeping his cool exterior. He forced himself to nod again.
"Don't leave me," Zell said, his smile disappearing.
Giving himself a moment to breath, Squall opened his mouth. "Move over," Squall whispered in a heavy, airy voice.
Zell scooched over a little, Squall sliding, fully clothed, under the covers with the young boy, letting the boy cuddle into him embrace.