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FFVIII: Cigarettes and the Sky
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: Squall visits Seifer in prison to offer him a chance. For Hieru Youko in the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
furere_aliqua Secret Santa.
He finds himself wishing for a cigarette. In prison, considered dangerous, with handcuffs on his wrists and god knows what attaching his feet to the floor, and he's longing for a cigarette. He thinks there might be humour in that, somewhere, but he thinks, too, that he's forgotten how to laugh. He's forgotten a lot by now. He's forgotten how long he's been here, how long since his last cigarette, how long since he last saw the painful arch of the bright blue sky high above his head.
There are footsteps outside. They seem familiar, somehow; accompanied by the faint jingle of metal, perhaps a belt or a heavy necklace. He frowns to himself, trying to place the familiarity -- even if he doesn't believe that anyone he knows has really come to see him.
The name is on the tip of his tongue as Squall steps into his cell, as unchanged as if he stepped out of that morning they duelled, what seems like so long ago.
"You're a mess," Squall says, quietly. He looks up and tries on his old smirk.
"Yeah, well, I've been in prison, Squally-boy. Shit happens."
"I've missed you," he says. Seifer knows that's surprising, or should be, but things have stopped really surprising him down here since the second time he woke with an aching head to the laughter of his guards and more bonds.
"I've been here all the time," he says, probably irrelevantly. And then, remembering a spark of his fire, his anger, and thinking of the taste of Squall's kiss on his lips -- they'd been something, once -- "You could've come before now."
"I would've."
Squall steps closer and Seifer looks away like a petulant child. Squall reaches down and cups his cheek, threading his fingers gently through his hair, hair that's long now, and tangled. Seifer is suddenly horribly conscious of how he must look and he doesn't look up -- now out of pride, instead of petulance. But Squall gently makes him tip his head up, until he's looking right into bright eyes that never held such life and tenderness before.
"You're free now, Seifer."
The scepticism has to be clear on his face. Squall rolls his eyes, hand cradling the side of his face, fingers making tiny circular movements; soothing. Seifer remembers how out of character this is for the Squall that was his lover, and knows that despite that there was always this, beneath every barbed comment and every angry response. He nuzzles into Squall's palm, just to show that he isn't angry at the tenderness. "Free?"
"Garden's taken responsibility for you. You'll have to become a SeeD, but -- "
"Are you dating Rinoa?"
"No," Squall says, as calmly as if those words held no edge of anger. He smiles slightly. "I'm offering you a place in Garden under my surveillance. There's that, or this, or time in the Estharian army."
Seifer knows what his heart wants to do. He knows what his instincts want to do, since he was betrayed so utterly by the sorceress he simply wanted to serve, not play a puppet for. His heart says, go, his instincts, stay. He smirks at Squall.
"I need a haircut."
"And a shave," Squall says, agreeing. His fingers caress the side of Seifer's face one more time, lightly, and then he kneels down and gets out a key and frees Seifer's legs. Seifer watches him, eyes slightly narrowed.
"How long do I have to be under surveillance?"
"Your whole life," Squall says, without looking up. "But your only supervisor is me."
"So..."
Squall rolls his eyes. "You know."
Seifer has to grin. Yeah, he knows. He knows Leonhart and his ways, his emotions as well as the complicated twists of his strategy and the clean-cut lines of training and combat and their relationship. "I'll stay with you, of course."
The kiss is light, and Seifer remembers how much Squall hated it whenever he had the slightest bit of stubble. It'll be good to be short-haired and clean-shaven again, he thinks. Good to smoke and look up at the high blue arch of the sky. It'll be good to be, again.
Seifer smirks at the guards when they salute to Squall as they pass.
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: Squall visits Seifer in prison to offer him a chance. For Hieru Youko in the
furere_aliqua Secret Santa.He finds himself wishing for a cigarette. In prison, considered dangerous, with handcuffs on his wrists and god knows what attaching his feet to the floor, and he's longing for a cigarette. He thinks there might be humour in that, somewhere, but he thinks, too, that he's forgotten how to laugh. He's forgotten a lot by now. He's forgotten how long he's been here, how long since his last cigarette, how long since he last saw the painful arch of the bright blue sky high above his head.
There are footsteps outside. They seem familiar, somehow; accompanied by the faint jingle of metal, perhaps a belt or a heavy necklace. He frowns to himself, trying to place the familiarity -- even if he doesn't believe that anyone he knows has really come to see him.
The name is on the tip of his tongue as Squall steps into his cell, as unchanged as if he stepped out of that morning they duelled, what seems like so long ago.
"You're a mess," Squall says, quietly. He looks up and tries on his old smirk.
"Yeah, well, I've been in prison, Squally-boy. Shit happens."
"I've missed you," he says. Seifer knows that's surprising, or should be, but things have stopped really surprising him down here since the second time he woke with an aching head to the laughter of his guards and more bonds.
"I've been here all the time," he says, probably irrelevantly. And then, remembering a spark of his fire, his anger, and thinking of the taste of Squall's kiss on his lips -- they'd been something, once -- "You could've come before now."
"I would've."
Squall steps closer and Seifer looks away like a petulant child. Squall reaches down and cups his cheek, threading his fingers gently through his hair, hair that's long now, and tangled. Seifer is suddenly horribly conscious of how he must look and he doesn't look up -- now out of pride, instead of petulance. But Squall gently makes him tip his head up, until he's looking right into bright eyes that never held such life and tenderness before.
"You're free now, Seifer."
The scepticism has to be clear on his face. Squall rolls his eyes, hand cradling the side of his face, fingers making tiny circular movements; soothing. Seifer remembers how out of character this is for the Squall that was his lover, and knows that despite that there was always this, beneath every barbed comment and every angry response. He nuzzles into Squall's palm, just to show that he isn't angry at the tenderness. "Free?"
"Garden's taken responsibility for you. You'll have to become a SeeD, but -- "
"Are you dating Rinoa?"
"No," Squall says, as calmly as if those words held no edge of anger. He smiles slightly. "I'm offering you a place in Garden under my surveillance. There's that, or this, or time in the Estharian army."
Seifer knows what his heart wants to do. He knows what his instincts want to do, since he was betrayed so utterly by the sorceress he simply wanted to serve, not play a puppet for. His heart says, go, his instincts, stay. He smirks at Squall.
"I need a haircut."
"And a shave," Squall says, agreeing. His fingers caress the side of Seifer's face one more time, lightly, and then he kneels down and gets out a key and frees Seifer's legs. Seifer watches him, eyes slightly narrowed.
"How long do I have to be under surveillance?"
"Your whole life," Squall says, without looking up. "But your only supervisor is me."
"So..."
Squall rolls his eyes. "You know."
Seifer has to grin. Yeah, he knows. He knows Leonhart and his ways, his emotions as well as the complicated twists of his strategy and the clean-cut lines of training and combat and their relationship. "I'll stay with you, of course."
The kiss is light, and Seifer remembers how much Squall hated it whenever he had the slightest bit of stubble. It'll be good to be short-haired and clean-shaven again, he thinks. Good to smoke and look up at the high blue arch of the sky. It'll be good to be, again.
Seifer smirks at the guards when they salute to Squall as they pass.
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