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FFVIII: Origins (8)
Pairing: Irvine/Selphie, Quistis/Rinoa, developing Seifer/Squall
Warnings: Sap
Chapter: Eight
Rating: PG13
Summary: Some people start to understand each other a little more.
Seifer finds him by the trail of monster bodies. They both brought their weapons, of course, though they haven’t had much cause to use them – Seifer or Squall without their gunblades would be Seifer or Squall missing something approaching a part of their soul. And a week or two without training is more than long enough.
“Yo, Leonhart,” he says quietly, smirking a little when Squall spins around, holding the smirk until the alarm and tension drop out of his ex-rival’s body and then smiling more softly. “Sorry if I startled you. I just… I’ve missed fighting and when Rinoa said you’d come out here, I thought you wouldn’t mind if I joined you. You won’t mind, right?”
“Right,” Squall says, shrugging slightly. “I don’t see why I would.”
“There’re reasons why you might… dislike my company.”
He makes a derisive sound. “I thought we’d covered that already. I forgive you, you forgive me for whatever may have happened in the past, we forget about torture, we certainly don’t mention a certain name, and we don’t act as if our whole friendship is ending just because you scarred my face and sent bolts of electricity through my body.”
“You… thought of it as a friendship?”
“As much as I thought of anything as a friendship,” he says, with a soft snort. “If anyone was my friend, you were. If I had a problem with my fighting or my studies, you’d help me figure it out. If I was feeling stressed, you’d be there to help me unwind…”
Seifer watches Squall as he turns to meet a new monster, his movements seemingly effortless as he swings around, the gunblade going right through the creature’s neck and decapitating it as easily as a warm knife goes through slightly melted butter. He watches Squall, the grace of his movements, the way he’s grown up and gotten some more muscles and gotten that bit taller. Gotten that bit more, well, edible looking, strange as the word sounds. Seifer swears he’s turning into some kind of girl. It is possible to take the whole gay and sensitive thing too far, right?
“Never looked at it that way.”
Squall shrugs. “Are you going to fight alongside me or have you forgotten how?”
Seifer snorts softly, drawing out Hyperion and loving the feel of it in his hand, perfectly balanced. Perfectly made and customised until it fits, until it’s a part of him. He smirks. “I couldn’t possibly. But you might not be able to keep up anymore – I’ve always been faster than you and I’ve had more time to kill lately.”
“We’ll see,” Squall says, his eyes sparking as he takes that as a challenge.
Seifer smirks again.
It’s an easy rhythm to remember. The slide of the feet, the side step, the feint. It’s harder to remember how to fight beside someone – Seifer’s been training alone for too long. But they fall into it, guarding each other, challenging each other. They’ve always been the perfect partners, whether fighting each other or fighting beside each other. Seifer lets himself relax into it, into the rise and fall of the blade, the lunge and the feint and the slow slick slide of blade into flesh and blood.
Seifer can’t say how long it lasts like that because he always loses track of time when he just falls into the pure exhilaration of it like that. It’s wonderful when he can lose himself in it, live just from second to second, let the seconds blur away from him once they’re done. There’s no need for over thinking or artistry, just pure physical exertion. It doesn’t last long, though, it never can, like that, and either he has to give or the monsters stop.
He’s never given in yet and he doesn’t this time.
“We must’ve killed most of the monsters in the area,” Squall says, sounding only a little out of breath. Seifer nods slightly, bending to find a clear patch of grass, wiping Hyperion clean. When he stands, Squall is drinking a potion, running his fingers through his hair and making himself look more tousled than ever.
Seifer tries not to let his imagination run away with that.
“Do you want to spar?”
Seifer looks up at him. The first thing he sees is the scar and then Squall’s beautiful eyes, bright and intense and glorious and for a moment, he almost says yes, remembering how Squall comes alive when they fight, the way adrenaline leaps through them and the way it feels as if there’s lightning and fire in his veins, hot perfection driving him to fight perfectly, every step like part of a dance, a deadly dance. Fights so perfect he can close his eyes and remember them now, and all the while Squall’s eyes, alive and bright, narrowed in concentration, Squall’s face, intent. He remembers all of it, the way Squall would bite his lip in concentration and the way he thought that was the sexiest thing in the world and tried to tell himself not to think that.
He shakes his head. It’s tempting. So tempting. The only thing Seifer could imagine being more perfect with Squall is sex and the fighting is like that, the same tangle of emotions it would be if they had sex, the rhythm the same frenetic, frantic pace.
But they can’t, not now, not like this. Not after all that happened.
“Why not?” Squall asks, looking – maybe – disappointed. Seifer just shakes his head again, trying to get his words into the right kind of order. Squall biting his lip in confused concentration is still one of the sexiest things in the world, which is part of what makes it hard to know what to say.
“We’re not... we’re not rivals anymore. There’s no point in it.”
Squall raises an eyebrow slightly. “You can only fight someone you can beat?”
“I can still beat you,” Seifer says, a little stung.
He rolls his eyes. “I don’t want to fight you as my rival. I just want a friendly fight. A work out. Until the monster population recovers. I don’t see why you can’t do that.”
“I just... don’t want it to be like the war.”
Squall takes a step forward, so that Seifer is looking right into those eyes, unable to actually avoid it. Squall fists a hand in his shirt and suddenly Seifer is fighting the urge to just kiss him, run his hands all over him and pull him close, press against him, and it’s hard to focus on exactly what Squall is actually saying. “The war is over. I know that and you should know that. I already said it’s time to forget about it. I have. You need to. We keep getting so far and then you say something about the war as if that’ll always be between us.”
“I –”
“What?”
Seifer takes a deep breath. There’re all sorts of things he wants to say and a couple of things he just wants to do, starting with just kissing him. “I don’t want it to be.”
Squall pulls away from him a little, and he tries not to be too disappointed by that. “Me neither. Get your head sorted out, Almasy.”
“I... I’m just really fucking sorry about it all, okay? I was a puppet but I could’ve done something. Fuck, I had moments when I was myself. I could’ve escaped, I could’ve killed myself, I... I should’ve done something.”
Squall narrows his eyes a little when Seifer suggests that he should’ve killed himself, glaring at him. “You didn’t need to. That’s what we were fighting for. The war is over, none of us can go back and fix it, you need to stop thinking about it and letting it fuck things up. I want to be your friend, we all want to be your friend, so stop being...”
Seifer smiles, just a little. “A retard?”
“Or something.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Quit apologising,” Squall says, exasperated. He surprises even himself when he moves closer to Seifer, his arms going around him in an awkward hug that quickly tightens when Seifer’s arms hesitantly move around him in return. He squeezes a little – hard enough to be almost painful, as if that will get his point across. “Just forget about it.”
“I’ll try.”
For a moment, both of them seem reluctant to move. Finally, Squall pulls away just a little, smiling awkwardly and looking away a little. “Now, do you want to fight, or not?”
Seifer smiles a little as well. “I think you’ve convinced me to fight you. I’ll go easy on you.”
If Seifer was just a little more in touch with his feminine side, he thinks that maybe Squall’s smile would weaken his knees or something. As it is, he firmly denies any such urge as they move into ready positions.
“I wouldn’t be too cocky just yet.”
---
“How’re you feeling now?”
Quistis looks up, looking a bit surprised, wiping her eyes quickly. “I didn’t think anyone was here...”
“I went out for a while, but I’m back now. Everyone else is out, I think. Squall went out with his gunblade and I think Seifer followed him.” Rinoa shrugs slightly, sitting down next to Quistis. “Are you thinking too much? I mean, that’s normally Squall’s job, but sometimes you do seem so like him. With the brooding. So I thought you could do with some company.”
“I’m not that much like Squall, but I don’t mind the idea of having some company.”
Rinoa nods slightly, taking Quistis’ hand in hers carefully, smoothing her thumb along soft skin, marvelling at the way Quistis’ gloves have kept her hands smooth despite all the fighting she’s done. “How’re you feeling about everything you found out? Still overwhelmed? I don’t think I could handle it just like that, out of the blue. Well, I could handle it, but I don’t think I could take it in very quickly...”
“It’s... strange,” Quistis shrugs slightly. “Really strange. My dad told me all about my mother and... She must’ve loved me so much, even when I wasn’t even born. She... she was one of Odine’s lab rats, sort of. She fell in love with my father... when she knew she was going to have a baby she escaped, went away to have the baby – me – and give it away to an Orphanage, so I wouldn’t have to share her life in the labs. I’m... some people might say she didn’t do the right thing, giving me up, that she should have stayed with me, but... I think she knew that one day, if she did that, Odine would catch up to her.”
“I think she loved you. She loved you enough to let you go.”
Quistis smiles at the cliché, but she nods. “That’s what I thought. She didn’t want me to have her life, no matter what talents I might have. Still... it’s... it’s really strange to think of someone loving me like that. I’ve always been alone. I never really felt that Matron loved me, not like that. I was a good girl, one of the kids she looked after, but she was never especially close to me. Probably because I was a tell tale and a little bit bossy.”
“You haven’t changed, then,” Rinoa says, teasingly, wanting to hear more but at the same time not wanting Quistis to be at all sad. They laugh a little and then Quistis shakes her head.
“It’s... nice, as well as strange. I really don’t remember ever feeling like this before. Like I was wanted, loved...”
“Plenty of people want you around, you’re a brilliant SeeD and a good friend,” Rinoa says, quickly. She takes a deep breath, squeezing Quistis’ hand again. “Plenty of people love you. Some... more than others.”
“Thank you,” she says, but Rinoa shakes her head, gripping her hand tighter.
“Let me finish... please. I wanted to say... I’ve been wanting to say for a while... I’m one of those people who wants you around. One of the people who love you. I... really love you. I’ve always admired you, and... It’s not like when I was with Squall. I don’t want all that fairytale stuff anymore. That was... I was idealistic, stupid, immature. Even if you don’t feel –”
“Rinoa,” Quistis says, interrupting her, smiling suddenly and squeezing her hand in return. “I love you too.”
“Oh.”
They look at each other for a moment, still holding hands, giving themselves a moment to let it sink in. Then – almost tentatively – Rinoa inches closer to Quistis, still looking carefully into her eyes. She looks almost as if she’s holding her breath and Quistis laughs softly, relaxing a little and reaching up – as if the gesture is easy to make – to touch Rinoa’s cheek. “I don’t bite.”
“Oh,” she says again, and then laughs as well. “No, I... I’ve been wanting to do this with you for a while. I’m trying to get used to the idea.”
“Sometimes, it’s best to stop thinking about it and just go with it,” Quistis says softly. She moves a little closer, cupping Rinoa’s cheek gently. “Just kiss me.”
She does. She kisses her, softly at first, lingering, and then a little more firmly as she gets used to the idea that she’s kissing Quistis, kissing another woman. It’s different to kissing Squall, softer and sweeter, and Rinoa promptly gives up all the rest of her fairytale ideas. This is better, this is real, more staggering and yet more believable. Quistis moves an arm around her and she moves closer, slipping her arms around her and pulling her close, kissing her again, eagerly.
“I was right about you not changing. You’re still bossy.”
Quistis laughs and kisses her again, nipping just lightly at her lip. “So... you say you don’t want that fairytale anymore... What’s changed?”
Rinoa shrugs slightly, running her hand over Quistis’ back lightly. She actually looks a little embarrassed, perhaps because she’s thinking about the way she used to be with Squall, or perhaps because she’s been doing a little too much talking about her own feelings. “I used to want Squall to protect me, make me feel safe. I don’t want that anymore. I want to keep myself safe – to impress you, I think. I’ve wanted to show you I can look after myself since Deling. With the sorceress.”
“You fight well, but not that well. I... admire you for different reasons. Your magic. The way you deal with situations, the way you deal with people’s feelings... I wish I could be a little more emotional and sensitive like that sometimes.”
Rinoa laughs. After a moment, she kisses Quistis again, as if she’s getting used to the idea of being able to whenever she wants. “I think you’re fine the way you are. Apart from when you overwork yourself.”
“I don’t –”
She laughs again and kisses Quistis quickly, a little less gently. “You know you do. I’ll make sure you don’t overwork yourself, though. I tried with Squall, but he’s too full of duty and being a good guy. Seifer might do better with him.”
Quistis raises an eyebrow. “You think they’ll get together?”
“Cupid seems to be on my side again, right?”
“Still... they seem to be friends, but not much more.”
Rinoa shakes her head, thinking of the way Squall and Seifer kept sneaking glances at each other during breakfast just that morning. And, of course, the morning before. She thinks of the soft look that stole over Squall’s face when he was telling Seifer about the progress Laguna has managed to make on finding out more about his parents. She thinks of the way Seifer looked when he went out after Squall – like he couldn’t stay away, though she thinks that that was probably more about the fighting than about Squall himself.
“They’re definitely friends by now, and I can tell they’re both attracted to each other. They just need to... well, get over themselves and go with it.”
Quistis laughs softly. “Those two are the most stubborn people I’ve ever known. They’ll never just give into something like that, considering that they fought each other for so long. They hated each other.”
“I don’t think so,” Rinoa says, shaking her head. “They didn’t like each other, but they certainly respected each other’s fighting skills. I think that even made them friends on some level. I don’t know – I’m talking like I know them all so well and I really don’t. I’m just guessing here.”
“I hope things turn out okay for them.” Quistis bites her lip. “I don’t think they’ll go well together, but if they do and it makes them happy – I used to teach them, I used to want to figure out what would make them happy, but I never succeeded in getting through to either of them. I could barely even teach them – they had their own ideas. Seifer wouldn’t even listen, and Squall would listen and go his own way quietly, and... I never could make either of them smile.”
“You should’ve been thinking a little more about what makes you happy,” Rinoa says, laughing a little. “And you say I’m more emotionally sensitive than you?”
“You got through to them. I didn’t.”
Rinoa kisses Quistis again, tangling her fingers in her hair. “Enough about them.”
---
“So... Quisty’s found her parents, and Zell found his dad, and we can’t find anything about me and Irvy,” Selphie settles more comfortably in
“Don’t call me that,” Seifer says, at the same time as Squall starts to protest the idea of spending all the rest of the vacation time on the beach.
“I got us vacation time on the condition that we’d go back when we’d finished the quest!”
“But we have weeks of time left. We can spend some time on the beach before we go back to Garden!”
Rinoa is sat next to Quistis. She looks as if she wants to do something to show that they’re together – put an arm around her, cuddle up to her, sit in her lap like Selphie is in Irvine’s lap – but she looks hesitant, thoughtful. Quistis is watching her, the look in her eyes fond, almost obviously loving. Seifer nudges Squall gently as he’s trying to come up with a reason why they can’t go to the beach for a few days.
“What’s up with Quistis and Rinoa?”
Squall glances at them and shrugs slightly, trying not to be too conscious of Seifer’s closeness. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose, trying to get to him, and whether he’s doing it on purpose or not, it’s working. Squall can’t focus on anything but the length of his leg pressed against Seifer’s, Seifer’s warmth and closeness, the fact that he’s absolutely aching to just turn and kiss him.
“Whatever’s up with them is their business,” he says, after a moment, although he’s curious about the half-smile on Quistis’ face, the tentative look in Rinoa’s eyes. Seifer shakes his head at Squall’s apparent lack of interest.
“Think they’re together?”
“I don’t know. That’s their business.”
“Doesn’t it interest you at all?”
“Only if they want to tell me,” Squall says, shrugging. As a matter of fact, he is interested. He wants to know how Rinoa is feeling, what has brought that pretty flush into her cheeks as she speaks quietly to Quistis. Somehow, he’s a little jealous – remembering when he was that close to her, and wondering why he went wrong, even though he was never really attracted to her in that way. He doesn’t understand the feeling, but he figures since it’s stupid anyway, there’s no point in trying to do anything but ignore it.
And he is insistent that whatever happens between Quistis and Rinoa is their business until they want to tell anyone else. Even if he is extremely curious.
“Fuck, Squall, I’m as gay as you can get and I still think they’d be a damn hot couple,” Seifer says. “Don’t you think?”
“Not really,” he replies, flushing just a little at the mental images that come all too easily of Seifer being turned on. The thoughts that quickly follow about what else might turn Seifer on are even more embarrassing to think about – and, Squall thinks, crushing his hopes ruthlessly, over hopeful. There’s no way, he thinks, that Seifer might want him. But there’s a part of him that continues wondering about it, continues imagining – until he has to look away, blushing even more, while Seifer gives him a rather quizzical look.
Fuck, he hates the fact that he can blush. He never used to. When he was a teenager and most boys his age would blush over the tiniest embarrassment, he never would. And now he can’t stop blushing.
“Is anybody listening to me?”
Squall looks up quickly, glad for the distraction. “Sorry, Selphie. Seifer felt the need to gossip.”
Seifer shakes his head again, mockingly, shifting slightly and getting more comfortable, sprawling out on the sofa. Squall is sure that some god must’ve just taken pity on him: it’s a lot easier to concentrate when he isn’t so completely focused on Seifer being right next to him.
“So, are you going to keep being a big spoilsport or not, or can we go to the beach?”
He will always, in future, blame the way he was being distracted just a moment before for agreeing, but in reality, there’s a part of him that does long for normal things like holidays. There’s a part of him that has always loved the sea, perhaps because it is wild and free and completely unlike him. And there’s something about the idea of spending the day on the beach – with Seifer no doubt at least half naked – that he can’t help but find appealing. So he nods.
“Okay. Fine. Just for a few days.”
“Yes!” Selphie punches the air, nearly falling off
“Only once we’ve found out more about Seifer’s parents,” Squall clarifies, frowning a little. “Maybe we won’t be able to do that as quickly as we did the rest of it.”
“Sir Laguna found a couple of people you can talk to, I don’t know what you’re being so pessimistic about,” Selphie says, huffing softly. “He’s been really helpful on this whole quest thing, and we already know quite a lot. Don’t we, Seifer?”
“We know about as much as I hoped to know,” he agrees, shrugging, and Squall glares at him briefly for giving Selphie a leg to stand on.
“See? Everything’s going to turn out great and we’re going to go to the beach!”
Rinoa laughs. “Who’s going to get buried in sand?”
“I’ll chop off the hands of anyone who dares to bury me,” Squall says, straight-faced – perfectly serious as far as anyone can tell. Seifer hides a smile and echoes the sentiments. Irvine, of course, just shrugs, and Zell makes faces but seems to like the idea somewhat, if only because it’s playing around like kids and none of them have ever done enough of that – except maybe Rinoa, but that just makes her the ringleader.
Selphie settles more comfortably on
She smiles brightly. “Love you, too. Not enough to spare you from being buried in sand if Zell refuses, though.”
There’s only one response to that.
He tickles her.