[FFVIII] Love Potion No. 8.5

“Bored!” whined Zell as his forehead connected with the cafeteria table. He had finished his usual lunch, twelve hot dogs and a glass of milk, to which Seifer had teased him endlessly. The little blond could shovel them in his mouth faster than most people could even eat one.

“Peace is boring?” questioned Seifer, who was sitting across the table from him, a smirk on his face as he devoured his hamburger and fries at a much slower pace than his friend.

It had been two years since Squall and the orphanage gang had defeated Ultimecia and returned from Time Compression. The world had settled into an uneasy peace that slightly hung on a thin thread. There were still minor skirmishes… but nothing along the scale of war.

Balamb Garden, like many of the others, found that it had become somewhat of a police force. Other than destroying the leftover monsters from the Lunar Cry and being hired out as bodyguards, the SeeD’s did not have much to do except train the dozens of children, whose parents now sent to Garden, hoping their little ones could become heroes like the legendary Squall Leonhart and his friends.

Zell mumbled something into the tabletop as he idly started kicking his feet against the ground, blue and black skater sneakers causing skid marks as he did so. He was ever the ball of energy, and he still wore the same clothes from two years previous, despite Selphie’s vehement protests.

“What was that?” questioned Seifer, cocking an ear towards Zell. “I didn’t hear ya, chicken wuss.”

The fighter, whose hair was for once not in its traditional spiked do, looked up with a scowl. “I said, why don’t you try to take over the world again so I can kick your ass!”

The larger man brought a hand up to his chest in mock hurt and outrage. “Why chickie! I’m impressed! You’ve really struck me deep.”

Zell scowled again, sitting back up and brushing his bangs out of his ocean-colored eyes, mumbling ‘asshole’ under his breath before speaking aloud. “Shut up, Seify!” He sneered, knowing he would for certain get a reaction out of that.

The gunbladist frowned and pointed a fork at his friend. “What did I tell you about calling me that?”

The blond fighter humphed, leaning back as he crossed his arms over his chest. “The same thing I said about calling me ‘chickie’!”

Seifer grinned and went back to eating his food.

Two years prior, Squall and company had gone in search of their friend, inviting him back to the Garden. They had met with some opposition at first, Esthar’s citizens threatening war and calling for the Sorceress Knight’s head… until it came to light that Squall was Laguna’s son. Then the threat died a painful death. The Estharian’s would believe anything Squall said, so long as their beloved Laguna backed him up. And in trying to get his son back on his good side, the President was willing to do anything for him.

Of course, all of the orphanage gang believed Seifer when he told them what had happened. How in the beginning, he had chosen to go with Edea, not knowing what he was getting into. By the time he realized the truth and wanted out, it was too late. Ultimecia had already sunk in her claws, and she wasn’t going to let him go, no matter how hard he fought.

She had taken over his body. He could see what he was doing, but it was like he was paralyzed to stop it. Almost if there were two minds within him, the Seifer-owned Ultimecia mind and the one he was before he ever met the Sorceress Edea. After Time Compression, he disappeared for a while, ashamed of what had happened. He wasn’t even willing to come back until Squall had talked with him. Whatever had been said between them, no one ever found out, but it was enough for Seifer to return. Raijin and Fujin were certainly glad to see their leader back and in his right mind.

Now two years later, all of that was mostly a dim memory in the light of all the other events. Cid turned over the Garden to Squall and opened up another orphanage with his now powerless wife, Edea. Trabia was in the process of being rebuilt, financed by a very generous General Caraway.

As many had expected, Squall soon grew tired of the pampered princess and ended their fairy tale romance. The so-called love that had blossomed, a result of circumstance and Squall’s overgrown hero complex, had quickly soured in the face of peace and condition. Rinoa wanted love and attention, money and shopping, while Leonhart just wanted to be left alone.

It was doomed from the start.

Used to getting her way, Rinoa had thrown a fit of Sorceress proportions, nearly blasting away all of Balamb in her rage. Unfortunately, her Knight was not amused. Squall deposited her on her father’s door step and slapped a bill and request for her presence in court two weeks later in his hand.

In retribution, General Caraway signed a check, hoping it would all just go away. Rinoa pouted, begging for Squall to return, but he would have rather faced Ultimecia again than that. The look on Selphie’s face at the sight of the check and the chance to rebuild her home, however, was enough for Squall to sigh, accept the gracious offer, and give a farewell ‘whatever’ to the bratty girl. He hadn’t looked back, and no one blamed him… Orphanage gang material, Rinoa was not.

“What? Teaching little hellions isn’t exciting enough for you?” Seifer teased, returning his fork to his meal and scarfing down the ketchup slathered hunk of meat.

Zell humphed again and kicked idly at the table, rattling the ice in their glasses. “Hurry up and eat, so we can go train.”

The other blond rolled his jade eyes. “For what? Guarding movie stars? Admit it, Dincht! You just want to see me sweat.”

“Puh-lease,” muttered Zell. “Don’t get so full of yourself.”

The gunbladist flexed a muscle as he grinned. “Wouldn’t you if you were me… but then again, chicken wusses can’t be cool–”

It was the fighter’s turn to roll his eyes. “If I remember right, last time it was you that was thrown on his ass!”

“How did I know that you two would begin eating without me?” interrupted a female voice, cutting off Seifer’s planned retort. “And, Zell, you scarfed down your hotdogs, again. One of these days you’re going to choke.”

The two males looked up find Quistis sliding into a seat next to Seifer. Her plate was rather healthy: a leafy salad, glass of water with lemon… and of course, her one indulgence, a rather large chocolate chip cookie that was fresh from the oven. The chain whip-wielder pressed her glasses up her nose as she regarded both men with a reprimanding look.

“Where’s puberty boy?” Seifer asked with a grin as he took a hefty swig of his own bubbly soda, guzzling it down with gusto.

Quistis sighed, looking at him over the top of her wire-rimmed glasses. “Where else? He still refuses to leave his office.” Her fork dug into the leafy greens, and she chewed thoughtfully. “Ever since the Rinoa fiasco, he’s been worrying himself to death about nonsense things.”

“I’m surprised he allowed Selphie her party,” the green-eyed man commented with a shrug of his broad shoulders. He was dressed as usual, zippered vest and slacks, having foregone the heavy trench coat thanks to the warm weather. His metal choker caught the bright light every time he moved his head, and his golden blond hair had grown slightly longer with time. Still, not much had changed about Seifer.

Zell tapped his chin thoughtfully as he raised a brow. “You know… he doesn’t seem to deny Ms. Tilmitt much of anything,” he added.

Quistis put down her fork, surprise evident in her features as her crystalline blue eyes widened. “You don’t think…” she questioned, trailing off.

The implications created a stunned silence. Zell was slack-jawed. Seifer was slightly pale, and Quistis seemed frightened. Until a loud cheerful voice broke through the quiet, accompanied by the sound of cowboy boots clomping against the cafeteria floor.

“Good!” exclaimed a perky brunette as she plopped down next to Zell, frowning slightly at his empty plate, as if she expected to find something there waiting for her. She squirmed as she got comfortable. “You’re all here! I need help decorating for the party tomorrow. I’m gonna use the ballroom, ya know!”

Zell sat up straighter as Irvine settled down on the other side of Quistis, nudging the blonde with his shoulder. “I just remembered!” exclaimed the fighter. “I have to do… something,” he finished lamely, jumping up from his chair and heading for the door. “I’ll catch you guys later… or whatever!” Three seconds later, the door was swinging shut behind him.

“Humph,” Seifer said, finally shoving away his empty plate as he licked his lips in enjoyment. “You’d think if chickie was bored, he’d want to help decorate.” He watched as Zell’s shorter form disappeared out the door.

“Zell? Bored?” questioned Irvine with a raised brow. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

It was long thought that Selphie and Irvine would quickly become a couple, especially at the end of the Sorceress War. Yet, the cowboy’s hands wandered a bit too much, and the perky brunette always considered herself a bit too free to settle down just yet. She was ditzy but not dumb enough to put up with Irvine’s antics. So for now, the two were best friends… or occasional friends with benefits. Whatever worked at the time.

Quistis shook her head, idly adjusting her glasses once more as she did so. “No, a bored Selphie is dangerous. Zell just gets depressed.”

The perky girl nodded knowingly, shoveling cookies into her mouth as Seifer tried to snag Quistis’ and got a fork to the hand for it. “He just needs a girlfriend.” She chewed thoughtfully.

“Hey!” Seifer protested indignantly. “Don’t I need one, too?”

Quistis laughed. “No, you need two,” she teased. “One for you… and one for your ego.”

Everyone chuckled at her comment as Seifer scowled, elbowing her playfully. When had he become such a pushover?

Irvine shifted in his seat, leaning over the table and snagging one of Selphie’s cookies, munching thoughtfully. “Wasn’t Zell talking to that girl from the library,” he questioned. “What was her name? Tamara… or something like that?”

The larger man snorted imperiously. “He’s too much of a chicken wuss to make a move.”


Quistis slapped the gunbladist upside the back of his head before returning to her meal, sipping lightly at the lemon-flavored water. “Stop calling him that,” she chided, while Seifer rubbed the back of his head and scowled deeper.

“He’s right, though,” the cowboy commented. “Two years… and Zell hadn’t so much as learned her number. He just needs a little push.”

Now, the entire time, Selphie had been silent, chewing on her cookies. And a quiet Selphie is usually a dangerous thing.

“That’s it!” the bubbly woman exclaimed. “I’ve come up with the perfect plan. C’mon, Irvy!” She leapt to her feet, determination in her eyes and chocolate crumbs on her face.

The gunman chuckled lightly as he slowly rose to his feet. “Too much sugar,” he muttered under his breath as he winked at Quistis. It seemed Selphie had already forgotten about recruiting her friends for decorating duty.

The two departed, leaving Quistis and Seifer at the table. The gunbladist leaned back, a smirk pulling at his face.

“So puberty boy and hyper girl, eh?” he asked slyly.

Quistis promptly smacked him on the back of the head once more. “Don’t be stupid,” she remarked, biting into her chocolate-chip cookie with a blissful expression on her face.

* * *

Zell hurried from the library as fast as his feet would carry him. He was NOT bored enough to spend five hours blowing up balloons and hanging up streamers in the ball room for Selphie. She was crazy when it came to decorating as everything had to be perfect. And if it wasn’t, she would order it taken down and redone. No one dared argue as she was scary when she was in decorating mode. Even Squall had been known to blanch.

The fighter shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked through the Garden, aimlessly heading for the training center. He had one pair of his less powerful gloves on, but that would be all he needed. Perhaps he could kill some time working off his frustrations, all of them.

He whistled as he walked, looking fondly around the place he called home. Much had changed, not that it was necessarily a bad thing. Garden was becoming more school-like and less military, with classes in science, mathematics and biology being emphasized more than field tactics and battle strategy. Rinoa was gone, not that Zell minded, and he had grown some, both physically and mentally. Seifer no longer irritated him like he used to, and now, they were friends.

All in all, it was a good… albeit normal and boring life. Gah! He hated to be bored.

“Hey, Zell,” came a sweet-sounding voice, distracting him from his thoughts. Ocean-blue eyes snapped upwards as he came to a halt, looking straight at that girl from the library… what was her name? Oh, yeah.

“Hi, Tamara,” he greeted, idly rubbing the back of his head. Man… he didn’t want to talk to her. She was cute and all… smart, too, but she was so boring. And she wasn’t much of a fighter either, too syrupy sweet for that kind of thing. Zell wanted someone he could associate with… someone who knew about the war. Still, she chased him, no matter how far he ran.

“How are you doing today?” she asked as she giggled. The brown-headed girl was clutching a small stack of books under one arm. She wore the school uniform, even though it was Friday, and her hair was done up in a pretty ribbon bow.


He shrugged off-handedly. “Okay, I guess. Bout to go to the training center.”

She nodded, as though really interested. He wondered if there was a way he could get out of this conversation without sounding rude. As he stood there shuffling from foot to foot impatiently, she spoke again.

“Sounds like fun,” Tamara commented before pausing, a light blush spreading on her cheeks. “Listen… you know that party that your friend is throwing for Trabia?”

Zell nodded, fearing that he knew what she was going to ask. Yet, he was too nice to turn her down outright. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, not when she had tried so hard to work up the courage to ask him.

“I was wondering.” She chewed her lip, looking directly at the floor. “You wouldn’t want to go with me, would you?” Her brown eyes were extremely hopeful.

Damn! Double damn his kind heart! Zell knew he couldn’t just turn her down, and didn’t know how to do it gently.

Internally, he sighed, while on the outside he gave her a cheeky fanged grin. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll go with you.”

Her eyes lit up as she smiled brightly. “Great! Umm… I’m room 52 B. So…”

“Eight,” he suggested, running a hand through his hair and flipping it out of his eyes. “I suppose eight’s a good time.”

She nodded enthusiastically, clutching at her books tightly as she shifted in place. “Okay… um, see you tomorrow then?”

He smiled. “Right… tomorrow.”

Tamara blushed before continuing on her way. Zell sighed and idly rubbed his head. Perhaps Seifer was right… maybe he was a chicken wuss.


He threw a punch in the air as he stormed towards the library. Where did he get off thinking Seifer was right?

He didn’t notice the eyes that were peering at him from the bushes nearby. Green leaves rustled.

“I dunno, Selph. I don’t think Zell needs your help,” drawled Irvine as he stepped out from the greenery, brushing away small bits of leaves that had clung to his beige duster.

“Of course, he does.” Selphie giggled as she came out also. She did a little happy dance as a grin widened her face. “And I have just the plan… for him and Mr. Hides-In-His-Office.”

The cowboy raised a brow. “Are you talking about Squall?”

She rolled her eyes as the two of them began to head towards her room. “Of course, silly. Who else would I be talking about?”

The gunman sighed as he stretched his shoulders. He idly tapped and adjusted his hat, slinging an arm over Selphie’s shoulders as the two walked together. While they were not a couple, they were the best of friends. And oftentimes, the bubbly woman involved her friend in her schemes. This time was no different.

“What’s your plan?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders again.

She eyed him mischievously. “For Squall or Zell?”

The cowboy grinned, ruffling her hair affectionately. “Like either one.”

Selphie giggled, a small blush spreading across her cheeks. “I think you will enjoy what I have in my mind as much as I do. And in the end, everyone will be happy. Just think, I’m putting myself in charge of the drinks tomorrow.”

Irvine laughed. “I’m all for it girl, just like fill me in.”

It was going to be an interesting party… as it always was when devious Selphie came into play, and the cowboy was on for the ride.

* * *

One hour after he had picked up Tamara from her room, Zell found he was struggling to find things to discuss with the library girl. He had started to wonder what Seifer was doing… Seifer of all people! It appeared they, he and Tamara, had almost nothing in common, but he had heard that relationships had been started on less so he decided to ride it out. Who knew? Maybe in the next minute or so something miraculous would happen, and they would really click.

Nearly everyone had shown up at the party that Selphie had thrown for Trabia. Even the ice prince had made an appearance, though no one really knew where he was at the moment. Seifer was there with Quistis as his date, both looking stunning as always: Quistis in her casual but cute, black dress and Seifer in his dress slacks and nice, green shirt that brought out the color in his eyes. Selphie was flitting around the party, occasionally manning the punch table in her frighteningly pink dress, and Irvine was making moves on any person he looked at, be they male or female.

The DJ that had been hired was great, playing the perfect blend of strumming beats, fast rhythms, and occasional slow songs. The decorations were perfect as usual with balloons and streamers hanging all over the place. Selphie had once again pulled off an excellent occasion. It was amazing how her mind worked.

Running out of something to say and realizing his mind had wandered, Zell finally settled on asking Tamara if she wanted something to drink. When she nodded yes, he cheered on the inside before threading his way through the crowd, glad for the respite. At the drinks table, he was surprised to find both Irvine and Selphie standing behind the counter.

“What is it this time?” questioned Zell, wrinkling his nose as he walked up to the table. “I hope it’s nothing like the last. That stuff was terrible.” He remembered that punch from the winter ball… after one sip, no one touched the stuff. It was poured out and ended up killing all the grass on the manicured lawn.

“I call it Love Potion No.8.5! It’s my newest concoction!” giggled Selphie. “I think it will do you and Tamara some good.”

Zell quirked a brow. “Is that so? Well, give me two glasses anyway. I suppose I can try it.” He grinned, flashing his fangs at her. “Great party, by the way, like always.”

“Thanks! Coming right up!” she exclaimed, turning around and mixing up two drinks before handing two orangish-pink filled plastic cups to the fighter. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks, Selph!” Zell promptly tasted one of the drinks, surprised at the sweet tangy taste that exploded on his tongue. “Its good. I’m surprised,” he commented before disappearing into the crowd.

Selphie giggled as she turned to her side and winked at Irvine. “And now watch the magic at work.” The two co-conspirators followed the progress of Zell… all the way up until the moment he ran into Seifer, bully extraordinaire.

“Hey, Selphie! Can I get some punch?” questioned one of her friends from the decorating committee. The perky brunette promptly ignored her in favor of what was going on in the crowd, waving a hand of silence at the blonde woman, whose name she was sure was Cindy. The woman pouted but didn’t say anything else.

Irvine and Selphie watched with bated breath and horrified glances as Seifer and Zell talked for a moment, had a short argument and ended with the taller blond taking one of Zell’s plastic cups and downing the entire drink, probably just trying to be annoying. He handed the empty cup back to the fighter, grinned cheekily and disappeared back into the crowd.

“Oh, no,” murmured Selphie as she turned to Irvine. “They’re going to kill us…”

The cowboy shrugged as he watched Zell slowly make his way back to the punch table, shaking his head and occasionally turning to glare at the nonexistent Selphie. “Perhaps it’s a good thing. It didn’t seem Zell really liked her anyway.”

The bubbly woman stomped the floor in frustration as she pouted. “But they looked so cute together.”

Irvine wagged a finger at his friend. “We still have our other project that I was in the middle of working on when you dragged me away. So long as we pretend we know nothing about Seifer and Zell, we should be able to keep our heads.” With that said, he disappeared back into the crowd, searching for their other ‘project.’

Selphie nodded in agreement, smile creeping back onto her face as the fighter reappeared at the table, sighing heavily.

“Give me another, Selphie,” he ordered. “Asshole took Tamara’s.”

“Coming right up!” she exclaimed cheerfully. “Another Love Potion No. 8.5! And a brand new batch at that!” She poured a glass of the regular punch. “I sense love in the air tonight and with this, you can win her heart!” she gushed.

Zell rolled his eyes at Selphie’s hinted comments and took Tamara’s newly made drink from the perky brunette, ignoring anything further she had to say. He calmly took another huge drink of his before taking a breath and diving back into the surrounding mass of people, threading his way until he returned to where the library girl was waiting for him. He handed her the purplish liquid, glad that Seifer had not inadvertently shown up once more to steal her punch.

“Thanks, Zell,” Tamara murmured as she took a sip of her drink. The fighter took a huge gulp of his, wondering why it gave him such a warm feeling throughout his body when it was supposedly just fruit juice. The two stood in silence for a moment as they watched the crowd, drinking their punch or whatever the hell it was Selphie was serving. It was an awkward silence, and Zell shifted uncomfortably, wondering how to make it all go away.

He opened his mouth to say something when Tamara made a little sound and grinned widely. “Oh! There’s Ellena! I’m going to go say hello. You don’t mind do you?”

He nearly breathed a sigh of relief but refrained from doing so as he nodded slightly. “I’ll be here. Go ahead.”

She nodded in response and disappeared into the mass of dancing and talking people. It seemed the whole of Garden had turned out for Selphie’s party.

Zell downed the last of his drink and scanned the crowd again, wondering if it would be rude to pretend as if he had lost Tamara for the entire night. As he did so, he noticed that everyone in the crowd seemed to be watching something in particular. Instantly curious, the fighter moved to get closer.

As the crowd parted, his blue eyes widened at what he saw. There in the midst of the pulsing beat and strobe-like lights was Mr. Ice Prince himself… dancing. Zell didn’t even know that Squall knew how to dance outside of the professional type they had been taught. Leonhart had lost his leather jacket somewhere and was swinging his hips to the beat and dancing with none other than Irvine.

The fighter went slack-jawed as he suddenly felt the heat in the room suddenly rise several notches. He had never seen Squall that way before, but watching the gunbladist dance and writhe to the beat, wearing those uber-tight leather pants and plain white tank, suddenly made his pants a little bit tighter.

He had the urge to jump into the crowd and join in the dance as well, unable to tear his eyes away even as Selphie joined in, the three of them putting on quite a show. It was then that he felt as if he were being watched, he looked up just a little to find jade eyes staring at him from the other side of the dancing trio.

He was instantly mesmerized by the look, feeling his cheeks heat as Seifer licked his lips and continued to stare. Unable to help himself, the fighter moved towards the gunbladist, wondering if Seifer could dance as well or better than Squall. There was something calling to him, something that made his blood heat and his skin tingle.

Zell worked his way through the crowd until he stood before the golden-haired man, looking slightly upwards due to his shorter height. His pulse throbbed as he locked gazes with Seifer, unconsciously gulping.

“Why is Squall out there dancing?”

Seifer shrugged, never taking his jade gaze off of the blond in front of him. “Cowboy got him drunk, or so I think. Where’s Tamara?”

It was becoming increasingly harder to think as Zell’s pants became tighter. He watched a bead of sweat crossed Seifer’s brow and trickled down his face. The only thing he could imagine was wondering how it would feel to follow that trail with his tongue. It never occurred to him that such thoughts had never crossed his mind before… nor did he care.

All he knew was the pounding pulse of the music around him and the heat filling his veins. And Seifer did not seem to be faring any better. His breathing had increased; his pupils dilated, and he kept clenching and unclenching his fists. The two seemed to ignore the crowds around them, eyes only for each other.

“Does it matter?” questioned Zell, mesmerized by the way the gunbladist’s muscles flexed under his flattering, green shirt. Someone bumped into him, knocking off his balance and throwing him against the taller, blond man. He could have caught himself… but Zell wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to.

He came face to face with Seifer, thrust up against his chest and enveloped by the scent of his cologne. Strong arms grasped his own to steady him, and he looked up into darkened, jade eyes, almost a forest green with their intensity.

“Careful there,” Seifer murmured, his voice low. His hands lingered on Zell’s broad shoulders, not even wondering why all of the sudden he wanted to run his finger’s down the fighter’s chest or kiss those continuously grinning lips.

Yet, instead of pulling back as he normally would, Zell reached up a hand and ran it over the green-clothed chest in front of him, noting completely that Seifer shivered slightly under his touch. He could feel the press of fingers on his arm, and it was almost like the touch burned through his clothes. He wanted more… much more than what they could do in the middle of Selphie’s party with all their clothes on. His aching cock straining at the front of his black dress pants was practically begging for it.

“Do you… want me to stop?” he questioned, sliding his fingers down the front of the shirt and feeling the muscles underneath. Something flipped in his stomach, and he wanted to lean up and attack Seifer’s lips, replace that sarcastic smirk with a pleased moan.

The gunbladist exhaled sharply as he increased his grip on Zell’s shoulders, something in his mind dimming at that simple touch. No, he didn’t want the fighter to stop. He wanted him to keep going. He didn’t understand why… but he was damned sure he wasn’t going to worry about that little detail, not with his blood thrumming through his veins and all of it heading south.

Seifer shook his head, gripping the fighter’s shirt tightly and relishing the feel of the smooth fabric beneath his calloused fingers. “Let’s get out of here,” he growled slightly before releasing Zell’s shirt and pushing his way through the crowd, assuming that the smaller blond would follow him. He was correct.

There was no hesitation on the fighter’s part as the two left the party. Since Seifer was leading, it was to his room that they went. But the moment they walked through the doors into the deserted hallway, Zell grabbed the taller man and shoved him against the wall, leaning upwards to press his lips to Seifer’s in a violent kiss.

The gunbladist’s mouth opened against the touch as their tongues melded together, trying to battle for dominance. Zell pressed his body up against the older man’s, grinding his clothed erection against the muscular body and moaning slightly into the kiss.

Seifer’s hands roamed down Zell’s arms and lightly tracing the lines of his back before reaching down to squeeze his muscular ass, pulling him harder against his own aching cock. Their kiss became harder as Seifer bit down on the shorter boy’s lip and snaked his tongue inside Zell’s warm, wet mouth.

The fighter moaned at the touch and pinched a nipple through the gunbladist’s shirt, unwilling to allow Seifer to make all the moves.

It was the need for air and privacy which finally separated them. They stumbled down the hallway together, occasionally groping and kissing along the way until they got to Seifer’s room. The gunbladist had to try his code three times before he was able to key the room open, and they stumbled inside, all hands and lips and tongues over each other’s bodies, tearing at their clothes, as if a fire had been lit between them that couldn’t be quenched.

The two blond’s stumbled towards the bed as their clothing fell into scattered piles on the floor, finally collapsing naked and sweaty on top of the rumpled sheets and covers of Seifer’s bed. Zell ended up on the bottom, admiring the planes of hard muscle that hovered over him.

The gunbladist was well built, and the fighter had always thought so. He was tall and muscled, though not overtly so. He had a strong body, and his golden blond hair, shining jade eyes, and aristocratic features were the desire of many a female.

Zell reached up and grabbed Seifer’s hands, forcing the taller man down so that they could kiss as he rubbed their naked bodies together. Seifer groaned into Zell’s mouth, while their dripping cocks ground, producing hot friction. The fighter gasped as Seifer released his lips only to trail biting kisses down the side of his neck, nibbling with a bit more intensity than he would have were Zell a woman.

Zell’s short fingernail’s raked down the front of Seifer’s chest as the hot mouth traced over his collar bone until teeth latched onto his nipple and sucked hard. Fire raced through his veins, and his body felt incredibly hot. His cock strained for relief, dripping with precum, and he wanted Seifer to do something, anything to him… so long as it involved them coming multiple times.

“Have you… done this before?” Zell gasped, managing just the one coherent thought as Seifer bit down on his hardened nipple one more time.

The gunbladist shook his head as he grinned wickedly. “I think I can wing it.” He pulled away from the fighter just long enough to reach into his dresser drawer, rifling around until he pulled out a small bottle of lotion, half-empty. Zell raised a brow as he laughed slightly.

“Get much use out of it?” he teased as he rubbed up against the taller man. Seifer bit back a groan and ground down on Zell’s aching hardness, an urgency to mimic the fighter’s own within him as well.

Zell was not sexy like Seifer, but he had his own attractiveness. Big, ocean-blue eyes and blond hair with that cute fanged grin and a body that was a weapon in itself made the fighter very charming. He was short but covered all in muscle, which made him both strong and agile.

And the tattoo! Not only did Zell have the tribal markings on his face, but also one in the shape of a tribal phoenix curled around his right bicep with the tail stretching down the length of his arm. Across his broad back at the top was his entire name in old Centra, a poetic language with flowery script. Yet, it suited the fighter perfectly.

“Don’t start with me, chickie,” intoned the taller blond as he grasped Zell’s dripping cock and stroked it a few times, admiring the size of him and surprised considering his short stature. “I could leave you here like this.”

Zell gasped as he reached up and tweaked the gunbladist’s nipple, pinching and rolling the nub between his calloused fingers and watching as Seifer pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in order to stop his groans.

“You want it just as bad,” he teased.

Seifer nodded in agreement, flipping open the lotion with one thumb as he released Zell’s erection and poured some of the slippery liquid onto his fingers. Coating a few with as much as he thought necessary, the gunbladist aimed a well-lubed finger for the shorter man’s puckered entrance and pressed it inside.

Zell tensed under the unusual feeling, and Seifer could feel the constriction around his finger. His groin tightened as he imagined burying himself inside the fighter, feeling that gripping him as he thrust repeatedly, Zell moaning and crying out his name. The fighter gripped the sheets tightly in his fist, the feeling not painful, just different from anything he had ever experienced.

Seifer wiggled the finger around for a moment before adding a second, not really sure how he should be pacing himself but figuring if it got too much, Zell would let him know. He pushed both fingers inside, moving in and out of the fighter’s entrance as Zell wriggled beneath him, gasping slightly at each movement. Seifer curled his fingers and all of the sudden the fighter’s eyes widened as he bucked into the touch.

“Damn!” hissed Zell, clutching tight to the blankets. “Do that again! Whatever the hell it was!”

The gunbladist grinned as he complied, enjoying the pleased whimpers and sounds that Zell was making as he writhed under the touch. His fingers brushed over that spot, and the fighter made the most arousing whimper deep in his throat. Seifer couldn’t help but lean over and bite on his neck before removing his fingers and searching for the lotion again, not willing to wait any longer.

He wanted to be inside Zell, and he wanted it now. The younger blond gave a small sound of protest but waited patiently as Seifer slicked up his aching cock, hissing slightly at the good feelings his neglected erection was sending his way.

Hovering over the fighter, hands pressed to either side of his body, Seifer aimed his lotion-slicked cock at the ring of muscle, pressing just the tip at the entrance. Zell took deep breaths as he ground down against the hard flesh, his body literally aching for relief.

Seifer tried to go slow, but his body wanted Zell badly, and there was no stopping once he finally pressed inside. Instantly, he was enveloped with hot wet heat as Zell’s body arched, and he gripped onto Seifer’s shoulders, blunt fingernail’s pressing into his golden-brown skin.

It hurt… It burned… not that he couldn’t handle the pain. But it felt as if a hot iron had pressed its way into his body, and he tensed up, immediately making it worse. Zell squeezed Seifer’s shoulders as he tried to force himself to relax, somehow knowing instinctively that it would help. The gunbladist moaned as he felt Zell’s inner walls clenching about his cock and sending thrills of pleasure racing through his body. Still, he did not move, waiting instead for the fighter to make some indication that he was ready.

A moment or so later, Zell finally relaxed enough to undulate against the body atop him, convincing Seifer to move. He pulled out slowly, only to thrust in again, setting a deliberate pace. Pain mixed with pleasure until it was hard to tell the difference between the two as Seifer leaned down and pressed his lips to Zell’s, urging his tongue inside the fighter’s mouth. The smaller blond eagerly returned the motion, nipping greedily at Seifer’s plump lips and running his fangs over the older man’s chin.

The gunbladist shifted in his position, his cock sliding over that special place within Zell that made him moan and writhe. He increased the pace as the fighter wrapped his legs around Seifer’s waist, bucking up into each thrust and biting down on the older man’s shoulder. The mix of pain along with pleasure only added to the desire that flooded his veins and pooled in his belly.

Zell’s hands gripped the taller man’s shoulders as he moaned loudly, probably alerting everyone – if there was anyone around – to what exactly was going on. He could feel it building up inside him as his toes curled, and electricity crackled along his veins. He could concentrate on nothing but the feel of Seifer sliding in and out of him, thick cock rubbing across his prostrate with every movement.

Seifer bit his lip before reaching between their bodies and grabbing Zell’s dripping cock, stroking it firmly as he did so. That was about all the gasping fighter could take. Three strokes later the smaller blond was cumming, spraying both of them with the force of his orgasm.

“F-Fuck!” he hissed as he bit down on Seifer’s shoulder.

That perfect blend of pain ignited the gunbladist’s pleasure, especially Zell’s inner walls squeezing him rhythmically and literally pulling his orgasm from him. Seifer gritted his teeth as he spurted inside Zell, a moaning whimper caught in his throat as hot fire raced through his body.

With a loud gasp, he collapsed on top of the other equally exhausted man, both of them breathing heavily as they struggled to control their erratic breathing and heart rate. Their skin was slicked with sweat, and the thick musk of sex permeated the room.

Seifer rolled to the side, so that he wasn’t suffocating the smaller blond and breathed heavily, fire still running through his veins, though the urgency had disappeared. He wanted Zell, that much was certain, but for now he was satisfied. The fighter felt much the same way as he grinned and idly wiped sweat from his brow.

“That was fucking hot!” he commented, stretching out on the bed.

Seifer smirked as he traced a finger down the younger blond’s arm. “Who knew that little chickie was so good?”

Zell scowled and slapped the hand away. “Shut up…” he muttered under his breath as he sat up and scanned the room, surprised to find his clothes scattered in every direction… and his body ready for more.

Seifer laughed but didn’t say anything more. Instead, he idly glanced at the clock, surprised by how much time had passed. “The party should be winding down soon,” he commented.

The little blond nodded. “Your roommate’s gonna be back soon.” He blushed slightly. “I’m just glad he wasn’t in here. I don’t think he would have liked the show!” With the increase in population of students, most everyone had been forced to share a room… excluding Commander Squall, of course.

The gunbladist shook his head before throwing a pillow at the younger blond and hitting him upside the head with it. “You’re such a wuss, chickie.”

Zell shrugged. “Somehow, that just doesn’t bother me like it used to,” he commented as he stood up and started searching for his clothes as Seifer plopped back down on the bed. “So…”

Seifer quirked a brow. “So… what?”

“What does that make us now?” asked Zell as he zippered up his dress pants. He cast about for his shirt, finally finding it on Seifer’s roommate’s desk. He was unable to meet the older man’s eyes, however.

The gunbladist grinned, his mind’s gears quickly turning at the concept of having a writhing, moaning chickie beneath him every night. It sounded VERY appealing to him. He watched as Zell found his sneakers, chuckling lightly at that because he knew that the fighter would never change before speaking aloud.

“It makes us whatever you want us to be, chickie,” said Seifer, leaning back as he crossed his arms over his head. “However, I’m partial to hitting the sheets with you again.”

“Sounds good to me.” Zell grinned cheekily, doing a small shadowbox move as he headed for the door. “See you tomorrow, Seify!” he called out as he pulled open the door, avoiding the pillow that was thrown at him and darted out into the hallway.

In the room behind him, Seifer chuckled casually before relaxing into the bed, sleep surprisingly swift in coming.

* * *

Seifer yawned as he rubbed at his eyes, staring blearily at his orange juice. He was not a morning person, but Selphie had knocked on his door early this morning, asking him all sorts of weird questions that he didn’t know the answers to. He couldn’t even remember how he had gotten back to his room or what had happened at the party. The entire night was blank to him, but since he was already up, he figured he might as well get some breakfast.

The only other person awake was Zell, which the gunbladist found odd. Usually the fighter also slept in, and it was Squall and Quistis that were the first to rise. Instead, it was only the two blonds staring at their food, and not even Zell was eating his pancakes, instead blinking as he yawned idly as well.

“Zell,” mumbled Seifer, reaching for a fork and contemplating eating his plate of eggs. “You remember the party?”

The spiky-haired blond looked up from his plate and blinked, something weird passing between them. “Nah, do you?” His blue eyes were unfocused as he idly rubbed at them and yawned.

Seifer shook his head. “Not a damn thing. What the hell was in that punch? I don’t even remember drinking that much.”

Zell shrugged. “Don’ know, don’ care,” he mumbled in return, idly poking at his food with his eggs and giving his friend a strange look. He had had the oddest dreams, and he could feel his cheeks heat when he looked at Seifer, though he hadn’t the faintest idea why. What had happened last night?

The gunbladist regarded his friend with an odd look before shrugging and attempting to eat his food. He ignored the strange feeling that was floating around in his subconscious and chocked his loss of memory to whatever strange concoction crazy Selphie had been serving.

Another day… another party.

* * *


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