How Not to Date Blondes (FFVIII)

Jul 03, 2008 16:21

How Not to Date Blondes, Ch 18: In Which Quistis Loses Her Composure
Authors: first_seventhe and rosencrantz
Fandom: FFVIII
Characters/Pairings: Quistis/Zell
Rating: NC-17

ff.net for censored version || enkida also contains uncensored version || or see below

Note: The full version hasn't been posted here in its entirety (my apologies)... you can check the ff.net version or enkida's tags for the other parts. They will be reposted here eventually!



Quistis sighed and carefully pulled her hand out from Zell's briefs, letting the elastic waistband smack back into place smartly against his stomach to signal her frustration. Wincing, Zell figured he probably deserved that. You moron, you finished without her, he blasted himself, wondering just how pissed Quistis was going to be at him now. "Umm... uh..." he fumbled, watching her awkwardly as she straightened her bra and zipped her shirt closed. "Sorry?" he offered lamely.

"No, it's fine," Quistis said, sounding rather unconvinced while crouching down to wipe her hand off as best she could on a rough patch of grass. She took her time standing up, a faint hint of color dusting her cheeks - whether the after effects of their makeout session or embarrassment, he couldn't tell. She kept her gaze on him steady, however, and let a wry smile twist at her lips. "Story of my life, actually. Reaching too hard for something I wanted and getting it before I was ready. I suppose I'm a natural born overachiever," she joked.

Zell let out the breath he'd been holding in a relieved whoosh; so she wasn't mad at him. Still, he felt pretty damn stupid as he reached for his shorts and secured them around his waist. Her eyes were tracking the movements of his fingers and it made him clumsy.

"Are you really ambidextrous?" she said thoughtfully, breaking the pregnant silence that had been growing between them.

Zell just barely managed not to stab his thumb through with his belt buckle when she asked. Sucking it up to bad karma, he shrugged and tried to appear more comfortable than he felt - which was particularly difficult, considering how distinctly soggy his underwear had become.

"Yeah," he replied stiffly, then grinned a little. "Even if I don't look it right now."

Quistis returned his smile almost shyly. "I don't suppose I can blame you," she joked. Then, her posture straightening, she pulled her leather sleeves on and began to scan their surroundings - quite literally, in fact, casting another spell that had her eyes lighting up with that freaky glow. She doused the Scan quickly, turning back towards him with a purposeful expression. "There's a set of Third-Years about thirty meters away. But they should be easy enough to avoid, if you want to go back to your room and..." Here her eyes dropped to the front of his pants, and Zell was gratified to see that he wasn't the only one turning red. "... er, freshen up."

Quistis cleared her throat, donning her professional mask to hide her discomfort. "I'd better do the same." She crossed her arms and shot a glance in the direction of the Training Center's doors without actually moving towards them. "Well..." she trailed off almost reluctantly, lingering by the tree. Their tree, Zell decided he'd call it from now on, though technically he supposed it was only his tree, since Quistis hadn't actually - he banished that train of thought and quickly pulled his gloves on, taking a moment to knock a bit of bark off of the trunk with his knuckles.

"Marking your territory?" Quistis observed. Zell grinned and gave her a sheepish shrug.

"Somethin' like that," he admitted.

Another looming, awkward silence sprang to life between them as they both rather obviously tried to come up with a reason not to leave. Those Third Years were coming closer, though, and it wasn't as if Zell's pants were getting any drier standing there. He shifted uncomfortably and hoped Quistis wouldn't notice, but she let out a small sigh of defeat. "I'll see you later then?" she asked wistfully.

Zell grabbed the back of his neck; it didn't seem right, after everything that'd just happened, to simply walk away. He looked at the front of his shorts and made his decision. Aw, fuck it, it's denim anyway. Besides, he'd walked through Garden's hallways in worse shape. Zell Dincht was rather renowned for getting into the most humiliating accidents imaginable. If someone asked, he could just say the faulty plumbing in the bathroom had sprayed him again. It wasn't like anyone would notice unless they bent down and sniffed at his crotch - and what kind of sickos would want to do that to him anyway? Well, except for maybe the Trepies. They were kinda like bloodhounds. Shrugging off that uncomfortable thought, he gave Quistis a tentative smile.

"Mind if I come with you?" he asked.

Quistis blinked. "To my dorm?" she said slowly. "Right now?" Her eyes dropped to the front of his pants again and he grimaced. "Are you sure you want to do that, Zell? Your room is closer to the TC than mine, you know."

He toyed with the thought of having Quistis in his dorm room - spread across his bed naked, now that was the stuff of fantasies - but let it go almost as quickly. He'd pretty much ensured that their "extracurricular activity" had finished even before it started; they were kinda done with each other for now, weren't they? Plus, taking Quistis to his room in the middle of the morning was an almost sure-fire way to send the Trepies on the warpath. "Naw, I'd rather walk you back to yours," he decided. Quistis raised one skeptical eyebrow at him, but she couldn't quite hide the minute slump of her shoulders as she relaxed. Inwardly Zell grinned, knowing he'd made the right choice for Quistis. A little sticky discomfort in his underwear seemed a small price to pay for that. "Don't worry, I can handle... uh, this," he said uncomfortably, gesturing at his shorts. Decision made, Zell began to clear a path through the underbrush towards the exit and motioned for Quistis to follow him.

"I apologize for that," Quistis said quietly. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"Aww, don't sweat it," Zell replied easily; once he made a decision, he found it easy to just let go and relax. It wasn't like he could change anything right now - especially not his shorts - and he sure wasn't regretting the events that had led up to his little "accident" in the first place. "I liked it," he admitted nervously, watching her from the corner of his eye.

Quistis snorted and rolled her eyes. "I think I could tell," she shot back. The smirk died from her lips as they passed through the doors and into the public hallway, however, and her back straightened. As far as Zell was concerned, that whole Seifer thing could just wait, because he knew they had a newer and much more important mission to deal with: get Quistis back to her room as quickly as possible, and then change his shorts at the next available opportunity. Failure was definitely not an option here.

Quistis scanned the hallway nervously. It was still pretty early, or at least it would be by Dincht reckoning; for the average cadet, however, the standard breakfast hour was fast approaching. She felt a mild twinge of guilt for accepting Zell's offer of accompaniment. Though she guessed they would manage to make it to her dorm room without too much incident, Zell was still going to be caught right in the middle of the morning rush hour. As they exited the corridor and turned out onto the main walkway, an idea to help Zell out occurred to her. That her inspiration was fuelled by that fast-approaching jogging kid - who also happened to be Trepie #48 - was pure coincidence, she told herself firmly. Judging from the way Zell had suddenly tensed at her side, he not only recognized the incoming disaster, but would probably be thankful for her diversion. Really, he will, she repeated to herself with more than just a bit of guilt. Saying it in her head didn't make it sound any more believable than she thought Zell would find it afterwards, but there wasn't really time to quibble about the details. "Hold your breath," Quistis said suddenly, whirling on him.

His mouth was still in the process of forming the question "Why?" when she planted her palm squarely into his chest and gave him a firm shove. Quistis, however, was not operating at her usual level of efficiency - though to be fair, the amount of sexual frustration she'd already experienced that morning was most likely to blame. In the heat of the moment, it slipped her mind that she was still Junctioned for strength. Zell's "why" abruptly changed into a "whoa!" as he went sailing backwards. She winced as he hit the fountain with an enormous splash, sending a plume of water spraying high into the air.

Well, at least her Accuracy Junction was still working just fine, Quistis thought with embarrassment as she rushed to the railing.

Zell broke the surface of the water coughing and sputtering. "Quisty, what the hell?" he bellowed as he tried to push the now-sagging mop of his hair away from his eyes.

Biting her lip, Quistis leaned over and offered him a hand as he flailed through the water towards her. "You could say I miscalculated," she said nervously. Zell waved her off and managed to haul himself out of the fountain with ease; he spent a few moments dripping all over the newly polished floor and looking extremely pissed off. "Erm... sorry," she muttered under her breath. "I'm doing nothing but causing you problems today, aren't I."

Noticing her stricken expression, Zell paused in his attempts to squeeze the water out of his soaked jacket and gave her a half-hearted smile. "Oh, uh, I was gonna clean up in my room anyway," he told her. Then he pulled the waterlogged envelope out of the back pocket of his shorts. It was already starting to disintegrate along the crease he'd crumpled into it. "Just... y'know, I don't think Squall's gonna let me lead another mission anytime soon once he sees this."

Pursing her lips, Quistis plucked the folder out of his hands. At least she tried to; instead, she completed the job the water had already started and ended up with literally half of the report in her grasp. Snatching the other half out of Zell's hands in the hope that he wouldn't realize that she'd just destroyed what were technically classified SeeD documents, she gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll take responsibility for this one," she said with more confidence than she felt. Eyeing the small puddle of water that was starting to form around Zell's feet - and the jogger, who'd actually stopped and was staring at them open-mouthed now - she gestured for Zell to follow her as discreetly as she could. "Let's get out of here before one of the Custodians drop by."

"Right!" Zell, having noticed the curious on-looker, shifted his weight from one foot to the next, trying desperately to look like nothing was wrong - and failing, miserably, as each of his sneakers squelched in time with his movements. Giving up, he threw a couple of air punches - dramatically emphasized by splattering water droplets - and headed off after Quistis. Hopefully the Trepies would just think he and Quisty were fighting again: it had certainly happened enough in the last couple days to be a believable cover story.

The dormitory hallway was blissfully empty - although Zell winced as he spotted the silhouette of two Garden-issue wall-climbing clamps, marking Quistis' dorm room like a neon sign for everyone to see. Zell grimaced; he really did feel bad about that one. Quistis didn't need any more unreasonable attention because he'd screwed something else up. Although, a wicked part of his brain pointed out, Quistis was probably in need of some reasonable attention - but no, he'd screwed that one up, too. He'd probably blown his one chance at ever making Quistis feel... well, like she'd made him feel. Even through the chill of his soaking-wet clothes, he still felt warm and tingly... there. Although the rest of him really was chilly. It would be nice to get Quistis to her door, maybe kiss her goodbye, and then run like hell back to his own dorm room -

A loud bark came from behind him, and Zell jumped; beside him, Quistis stiffened. "Shit," she muttered, reaching frantically for her keycard. Angelo came bounding down the hall towards them; Zell caught one look of the utterly panicked expression on Quistis' face before she swung the door open, shoved him in - she'd forgotten her own strength again; only his good balance kept him from wiping out into a soggy mess on Quistis' dorm carpet - and slammed the door shut.

"Hi, Rinoa," Zell heard through the door as he regained his footing. Quistis' voice sounded tense, and Zell could almost picture the automatic smile she'd put on her face. Quistis was exceptionally good at hiding her own feelings, he knew now. Why hadn't any of their other friends figured it out? He was momentarily distracted by a strange snuffling sound at the door. Curious, he moved a little closer.

"Angelo!" Rinoa's voice was the sharp snap she used when commanding the dog; the sniffing sound continued. "Angelo, get away from the door. I'm sorry, Quisty, I don't know what's gotten into him. We just got back from breakfast and - Angelo!" Zell heard a scratching sound at the base of the door, and jumped back a bit as he saw the shadow of a large furry paw. "What are you keeping in there, Moomba treats?"

"I - uh - a life-time supply of good-looking men?" Quistis tried, and Zell snorted in laughter, picturing the look on her face as she said it - she'd have one eyebrow cocked in that way she did when she didn't want you to know if it was a joke. A long thin whine carried under the door, along with a strange whuffling sound, and Zell immediately quenched his laughter - literally, by pressing the soggy sleeve of his jacket to his face.

"That's strange," Rinoa said, and now her voice sounded suspicious. "It looks like he's trying to Angelo Search." Stupid dog. Zell clenched his teeth, now faintly terrified of making any sort of noise - Angelo could break walls down if he really wanted to, let alone one standard dormitory door and Zell couldn't think of any good explanation as to why he was crouched soaking-wet inside Quistis' room without Quistis. Angelo Search was a pretty impressive trick - unless you were the thing being searched. Zell tensed all his muscles and tried not to breathe.

Quistis, for the most part, was trying to figure out how in the world to distract Angelo away from what she was sure was a delicious-smelling wet body hidden just inside her door. "Come here, boy," she said, crouching down to pet Angelo behind the ears, just where he liked it. It wasn't until the dog's head turned towards her fingers, sniffing curiously, that she realized just how interesting of a smell that particular hand must have at this particular moment. She resisted the urge to snatch her hand away, instead letting Angelo smell her fingers and trying not to wince badly when he began - oh, Hyne, now Angelo was licking at her fingers. This was disgusting. Quistis felt her entire face turn bright red.

"Oh, Angelo, stop saying hello," Rinoa said crossly. "I'm so sorry, Quisty, I just wanted to talk to you, not bother you with my dog and tear down your door." Her gaze drifted to the two clamps permanently embedded in the wall, and Rinoa's eyes widened slightly. "What happened?"

"I had an argument with Zell," Quistis said without thinking, using the opportunity to stand up and put her hand somewhere Angelo couldn't reach it. She settled for her hip. Rinoa's eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity, so she added as a lame joke: "I'm keeping his body in my room." It seemed to work; Rinoa looked slightly surprised at her attempt at humor, but then began to giggle a little bit. Oh, Rinoa. If only you knew. "He's slightly chilled, but he'll keep for now," she continued, unable to help herself. Rinoa laughed harder, and Quistis had to bite her lip. Hopefully Zell was listening at the door - at least somebody could get a genuine laugh out of this situation.

"Do you have a minute?" Rinoa asked, finally. "I just - I..." She squared her shoulders. "I took your advice, and I'm going to go apologize to Squall." There was a pause, and her moment of resolve left her as her shoulders slumped in an alarmingly rapid wilt. "I think," she added mournfully.

For what had to be the millionth time in her life, Quistis Trepe mentally damned the fates, her luck, and all nosy Sorceresses. She wished more than anything that she'd locked herself in with Zell: they could be in hiding somewhere. Huddling for warmth. In the shower. With Zell's ambidextrous talents. However, with Angelo on the alert, there was a pretty good chance they would've been 'sniffed out' - and then what? Quistis smiled at Rinoa encouragingly and said, "I think that's the right thing to do." She couldn't resist adding mentally: So go! Go and do it! Please, for the love of Siren, go find Squall and take your dog with you!

"I'm going to go in his dorm room," Rinoa confided, "and I'm going to page him from there and ask him to come talk to me. I don't want to go up in his office - I'm afraid he might make a scene. I thought it would be easier to do it in private."

It usually is easier to do it in private. Quistis wrenched her mouth a little trying not to let the nervous laughter out. "Mmm-hm," she said noncommittally, edging away from Angelo.

Rinoa started an agitated pace up and down the short stretch of hall before Quistis' room. "I'm just worried that he won't listen to me." Angelo sniffed at Quistis again, and Quistis turned herself slightly to avoid getting the dog's nose directly in her crotch. Angelo shifted with her, seemingly more interested. "I know that I should apologize anyway, but I'm a little afraid that he doesn't care." Quistis stepped away from the door. Angelo followed her. "But I guess..." Rinoa glanced over at her. "If he doesn't listen to me, then it's just not meant to be, right?"

"You're right," Quistis said. You're right, you're absolutely right, and I'm a panicked hormonal mess right now because I just had my hand down Zell's pants so please go away!

"God, thanks for listening," Rinoa said suddenly, throwing her arms around Quistis' neck. Quistis tried to act normal, patting Rinoa on the back with her other hand and doing her best to repress the memory of feeling someone else's warm body pressed against her. Hyne, if she wasn't careful, she'd end up humping Rinoa's leg. No offense to Rinoa - or to Angelo - but Quistis needed to get rid of their company, and fast. Luckily, an idea presented itself.

"Here," Quistis said, pulling away from Rinoa and gently turning the girl until they were both looking down the hall, towards the staircase. "Go on." She accompanied the words with a slight push on Rinoa's lower back, a gesture wildly intended to be inspirational. "Go, before you lose your nerve."

Rinoa whistled sharply, and Angelo came to heel (looking a little disgruntled). "You're right," she said, nodding her head decisively, and she and her dog headed down the hallway.

Quistis watched long enough to be sure that Rinoa wasn't going to suddenly change her mind and turn around, and then threw herself into the dorm room, frantically locking both of the physical locks and mashing the digital-lock keypad for safe measure. Once that was taken care of, she rested her forehead against the door for a second, trying simply to breathe. A hysterical bubble of laughter burst out of her, much to her surprise.

"Uh," Zell said tentatively from behind her, "I kinda dripped on your carpet, Quisty. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She turned around, suddenly nervous again. "Rinoa has terrible timing. It isn't your fault." Part of her had been secretly hoping that Zell might, in fact, be shirtless; however, Zell apparently hadn't moved much since she'd thrown him in the room. To his credit, he was barely even shivering, but the faint blue tinge to his lips gave it away.

At her inquisitive glance, Zell shrugged, and stood up from his crouch. "Every time I tried to move, that dog heard me." He rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. "I was gonna go hide, but..." He glanced around, and Quistis suddenly realized that Zell hadn't really felt comfortable in her dorm room. She'd never made much of a habit of having friends over, anyway; she'd tried to make it very clear to everyone else how she felt about her personal space. That being said, part of her very much wanted Zell to invade her personal space. Right now. Five minutes ago. Fifteen minutes ago, in the Training Center. Quistis shook her head, feeling herself blush again.

"Zell, you're freezing," she said instead - and came to a very abrupt realization. "You're just going to have to shower here."

"What?" Zell's entire face went bright red, and he comically clutched his jacket to himself as if she'd asked him to strip naked and dance the Choco-Polka in the Cafeteria. "I can't do that!"

"You can't go upstairs now," Quistis pointed out, wincing a little. "I just sent Rinoa up there. And if this is anything like last time, she'll circle the hallways for an hour before she gets the courage to go into Squall's room. What if she sees you? What if Angelo sees you?"

Zell shivered a little. "That dog knew I was here," he said darkly. "Alright then, maybe I just don't need to shower." Then he made the mistake of glancing back up at Quistis and remembering exactly why he'd needed the shower in the first place. "Uh... okay, maybe I do. But I can't shower here!"

"Of course you can," Quistis said, heading decisively to the back of her dorm room and digging through her closet for a fresh towel. "It isn't really a problem." Unfortunately, house guests were not a regular occurrence in Quistis' private quarters, and the only spare towel she had at the moment was the rather small standard Garden issue workout cloth she'd accidentally misappropriated from the gym. Chalk up one more reason that the date with James had been a terrible idea - she hadn't even been able to do her weekly laundry. She tried to picture Zell in one of her big bushy rose-colored towels (she and Selphie had ended up in a huge argument about whether the towels were pink - which Quistis hated - or rose, which she found acceptably un-girly), and abruptly made the decision when her mind pictured Zell with the tiny workout towel around his waist and nothing else. Right, she thought, standing up. Garden towel it is. "Here you go!" she proclaimed, holding the towel up triumphantly. Zell's eyes bulged.

"No way! I can't, Quisty!" Zell exclaimed hastily. The thought of being naked in Quistis' dorm room was exciting - and terrifying. It was one of those things that a week ago he would've joked about - being naked with Quistis - but now, that the invitation was actually here... "I can just run up to mine, it's not a big deal, people'll just think I did somethin' stupid again -"

"Angelo," Quistis warned him. Zell swore, his eyes widening.

"And if you hand me your wet clothes," Quistis added, throwing the towel in Zell's general direction and hastily closing the door to her bedroom, "I bet I can figure out a way to dry them for you with Fire Breath."

Zell's eyes grew even wider. "But what if you burn them?" he squeaked out. "I'd have to walk home naked!" Not that such a thing hadn't happened before, but he hadn't liked it much then, either.

"Alright," Quistis conceded. "White Wind, then. Anyway, you need to get out of those clothes before..." Before I remove them from your body, her brain supplied. "Before you catch a chill," she said aloud, instead.

Zell was still standing there, staring at her awkwardly. Quistis took a mental step back. She'd really been looking at it from a more practical standpoint: Zell needed a shower, he needed to warm up, and since she'd just actually had her hands on his, er, manly bits, that took care of the propriety issues - in her brain. But in reality, one messy fumbling make-out session in the Training Center didn't mean that they were actually dating. Or did it? Her brain had timed out at the simultaneous thoughts of warming Zell up in the shower. Maybe if she offered to join him, he'd be more likely to do it? Was Zell being shy? He certainly hadn't been shy with her in the Training Center -

"Look at it this way," she said, mostly trying to convince herself. "We still need to work out the details of our mission. You can go clean up, I'll dry your clothes off, and hopefully we can finish our discussion." Although it wasn't the discussion she was interested in continuing. Quistis tried not to blush, and failed. Her entire body was throbbing and she couldn't help but think that maybe it would have been easier to send Zell back up to his dorm room in the first place. Knowing that Zell was in her shower, wet and naked, was - well, it was going to take a severe amount of restraint to respect his privacy.

"Quisty," Zell said reluctantly. Something wasn't quite right with the way Quistis was looking at him. She was eyeing him as if she wanted something - which, knowing Quistis, was probably to talk about the mission. "You okay?"

Quistis' shoulders sagged. "I screwed up," she said, glancing away - a little surprised at the ease with which the apology rolled from her tongue. "I'm sorry. I panicked. I just wanted Rinoa and Angelo to go away so that I didn't get you in any..." What was the right word to use here? Trouble? Did it make any sense to be concerned about Zell's public image when he'd just been groping her in the TC? "Anyway," she finished lamely. "If you don't feel right being here, I'm not about to force you to stay."

Zell shook his head. Quistis looked really tense and a little confused. Personally Zell felt a little confused, too; he wasn't exactly sure how everything had taken such a turn for the bizarre and weird, but he knew one thing: he wouldn't take this day back for the world. He wasn't really sure what to do with Quisty, but a hug had worked well before, right? He took a couple steps forward and reached out; hugging her now - while he was soaked and filthy - wouldn't really be helpful. He took her hand in his, and squeezed.

"I ain't tryin' to bail on you, Quisty," he said slowly, trying to figure out what was the right thing to say - what would make that strange need in her eyes go away. "I just don't want you to think..." Think what? That after what had happened in the TC, they were officially a couple, and this was the end of all this not-dating nonsense? Well, to be honest, that was exactly what Zell wanted her to think, but that was beside the point. He sighed in defeat. "Why don't I just go shower, an' we can talk later."

Something relaxed in Quistis' face, and she squeezed his hand back, but her eyes still seemed a little tense and expectant. Admittedly, Zell didn't really know what else to do. "Here," he said, handing her his jacket. "Just don't wreck it," he tried joking. "That's my lucky foosball jacket."

Quistis took it carefully and eyed it as Zell headed into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Something in her still felt all knotted up, and she knew exactly what it was - the throbbing between her thighs that was making it hard to concentrate on basic speech. She opened the door to her bedroom, her gaze falling on her still-unmade bed. The rumpled sheets reminded her of her own legs, twisting, as her fingers explored - no, she thought, and turned away. Bobo sat beside her pillow, looking at her: now he looked a little forlorn, a little disappointed. Something told Quistis that it was ridiculous to be projecting her own emotions onto Zell's stuffed chocobo plushy. She fisted the jacket in frustration. A glance over her shoulder told her that the bathroom door was still tightly closed; she ran one thumb carefully down her breast, caressing her nipple through the fabric of her top, picturing Zell's face as she'd pulled that zipper open, the look in his eyes as he'd run his thumb over her nipple. Slowly, she unzipped her top up past her bra, careful not to make too much noise, sliding her fingers inside. She rubbed in small, cautious circles, wondering whether her own hands would ever be able to feel like Zell's. The warm feeling in her belly intensified; she let her fingers travel down a little, over her stomach. They stopped at her skirt. Quistis slowly pulled her hand away, deliberately placing it on top of the other hand, which was still holding Zell's jacket in a white-knuckled grasp. She was not going to do - that - while Zell was in her bathroom.

Jacket. The jacket. She could at least use some of this frustration to access her Limit Break, if nothing else. She closed her eyes, tightened her grip on the jacket, and called up White Wind. The healing spells were usually warm, and she felt the light rush of heat as the wind ran through her like a circuit and into the room, but it wasn't enough. She tried again, tensing her shoulders, but there just wasn't enough. It wasn't enough. Nothing was ever enough. Quistis opened her eyes, threw the jacket across the room, and let loose a loud and desperate round of Gatling Gun, taking a strange amount of satisfaction from the neat line of holes which appeared in her pristine, perfect, bland dorm wall. She repeated it - POW! POW! POW! - letting the sexual tension run through her, feeling her nails digging into her palms as she just couldn't get there - this was insane, she was throwing a tantrum like a child -

The sound of gunshots from Quistis' bedroom made Zell drop his pants, literally, into the sink - where he'd been trying to remove the mess from earlier before handing them over to Quistis - and run out of the bathroom with nothing on but the cheap-ass Garden towel around his waist. His first thought was that Quistis had completely lost it, but even as he dove into her bedroom she seemed to be coming out of her Limit and back to her normal self. His second thought was a very irrational sense of jealousy, directed at the chocobo plushy, now lying somewhat upside-down next to Quisty's pillow. The glance at the plush toy calmed him down, even as Quistis turned around and stared at him. Her face was pink and she seemed at an absolute complete loss for words.

"I didn't dry your jacket," she began, her voice low and husky despite everything, and then Zell noticed her top - or, really, to be honest, her breasts. Namely, the fact that they were visible. Somehow her top had unzipped itself. Huh. Maybe he did have psychic powers. He realized he was staring and glanced upwards at her face - she turned even redder, looking completely mortified, and whether it was his newfound sense of intuition around Quisty or the fact that he really was thinking with his 'lower brain', Zell finally realized what was going on. He'd left Quisty hanging... and in a fairly bad way, too. So it did happen to girls. Zell found that he was a little - touched? proud? to have gotten Quistis Trepe so riled up that she'd kind of exploded in her own bedroom. Him. Zell Dincht. It was a beautiful and terrifying thought. He felt - well, nervous, perhaps, was the best word... but also, Zell realized suddenly, excited.

This wasn't about 'scoring' with some girl, or getting 'experience', or any of the dirty jokes Irvine made during guy's-night-out. This was Quistis. And Zell wondered - hesitant, but with real interest behind it - whether he could make Quisty feel as good. Whether she'd let him. The thought of touching Quistis was even more exciting than the thought of Quistis touching him - which was saying something, because Quistis touching him had been the most exciting thing to happen possibly in his entire life.

Quistis watched, frozen, as Zell's eyes flicked down into her cleavage and then back up to her face. Hyne, he'd caught her fondling herself. While holding his jacket. If there was ever a moment in her life that she wanted to die of sheer embarrassment, this was it. However, Zell's gaze didn't hold any of the disgust or rejection she'd expected. In fact, he looked... curious? A little apologetic? "What?" she said, trying to sound mean and aloof but really just sounding insecure and defensive.

Zell took two decisive steps across the room and lowered his mouth to hers. Quistis responded almost instantly, her entire body crying out Hyne, yes as she mashed her lips against Zell's, opening her mouth eagerly. His shoulders were deliciously bare, and this time nothing was preventing her from spreading her fingers across them. She let her hands explore the broad expanse of his back hungrily; his skin was cool and slightly damp to her touch, but his lips and tongue were so warm they burned. Heat was radiating from his chest; she could feel it soaking directly into her exposed skin. Impatiently, Quistis jerked her head away from him, pulling at her zippered top and ripping it away from her chest when it snagged. Zell ducked his head after her, chasing her lips and making the movements difficult.

"Zell," Quistis ground out, turning her head away from him as she fumbled with the clasp of her bra. Undaunted, he ignored her and latched onto an earlobe, sucking it. Growing irritated, mostly at the fact that she was still wearing an excess of clothing, Quistis turned her head again and inhaled, ostensibly to demand that he give her the space to undress herself properly. Zell chased down her words with a heated kiss before she could even form them. No longer shy, his tongue pushed into her mouth insistently, and vaguely Quistis realized that he was done with giving her space. He pushed against her, driving her back a few steps in a parody of their earlier encounter in the Training Center, and stopped only when her back bumped against her dresser, causing her various bottles and accoutrements there to rattle noisily. The sharp angle of the furniture was digging into her back, but Quistis barely noticed because Zell was busy occupying his own hands with the task of removing her bra. He wasn't very good at it, she noted fondly, and broke away from his mouth once more to suck in some air.

"It's a hook," she wheezed breathlessly before grabbing the back of his head and returning his kiss. This time she allowed a leg to reach around his calf, propping herself up and using both his own body and the dresser to grind herself against him. Hyne, it felt good, but not nearly good enough. Dimly she noted that Zell had successfully managed to loosen the fastenings on her bra; somewhere along the way, he'd lost his towel. He was still burying his face into the hollow of her throat as she arched her neck back, stretching, reaching -

"Quisty," he mumbled, exhaling heavily as his hands stroked down the bare sides of her ribs, over and over as if to soothe her. She wondered if he realized that his touch was having the opposite effect; in any regard, she didn't want to be soothed. Grunting in protest, she pressed herself against him, but his hands tightened and he pulled her back slowly. He was breathing heavily, and his blue eyes were coloring dark from the size of his pupils - probably matching her own, she managed to think.

What was he waiting for? "Zell, please, it's okay," she managed to grit out, tightening the clutch of her leg around his for good measure. "Why in Hyne's name are you stopping now?" Her eyes shimmered, warning him just how close she was to ripping off yet another Limit Break.

"I know," he told her with a boyish smile, and the very sight of him, grinning wildly, his eyes alight with that feverish gleam - the one he usually only got when attempting one of his death-defying stunts on his T-board, the one he used to have when talking about that girl from the Library, the one he was directing at her, and only her now, made something heavy curl low in Quistis' belly, transforming itself into a liquid heat. She craned her neck and dove after his lips, but this time he used his reflexes to duck back from her, teasingly, and she almost audibly growled her frustration.

"Shh," he told her, planting a lightning-quick kiss on her nose, and Quistis found her eyes glued to the shape of his lips. She had to stop herself from asking him to repeat himself just so she could see his lips purse together so sensually. She wanted to taste him; it was quickly becoming her number one priority. He ducked his head back again when she leaned forward a second time and shot her another grin, this time gently pulling her away from the dresser, his arms wrapping around her waist.

Quistis let her leg fall away from him reluctantly; a very naked Zell was standing in her room, embracing her, and she hadn't even taken off her shoes yet. She flushed faintly in embarrassment, but Zell's unnervingly focused, intense grin never wavered. Unable to help herself, Quistis let her eyes travel downwards, savoring the sight of Zell's impressive musculature. He worked out regularly, that much anyone could tell even with his clothes on. She took the time now, however, to appreciate the beauty of each sharply defined muscle as they stood out in high definition under his smooth, pale skin. She let her fingers trace across his pectorals and then trail down each ridge in his abdomen, which quivered under her feather-light touch. She glanced up as she neared his navel, looking to make sure she wasn't scaring him with her close scrutiny. His grin had faded somewhat, but the burning emotion that flickered behind his eyes remained, urging her to go on.

Her fingers continued their slow path of exploration, sweeping down along the line of his hips and into the wiry shock of curls dusting his pelvis. She allowed herself a quick glance downward, following her fingers through the pale hair - it wasn't as blond as Zell's gravity-defying bangs, but it was close. As her fingers drew closer to the base of Zell's limp cock, fully intending to repeat what they'd done earlier, Zell drew away slightly. Quistis looked up into his face, exhaling her confusion in a quick puff of breath. His gaze was intense, and Quistis wondered what she was doing wrong; Zell had certainly responded to her touch earlier, but he didn't seem to be... responding, now.

But then Zell reached out to brush her shoulder with his own fingers, and the look in his eyes deepened slightly, and Quistis' fears seemed to vanish as he ran his hand along her collarbone, sliding the strap of her bra slowly off her shoulder and down her arm. Zell's touch wasn't shy and feather-light; his fingers were strong and smooth, and while his face may have still seemed a little hesitant, his motions and his grin confidently told her, yeah, I know what I want. He lifted his other hand, pulling her bra strap off her other shoulder - slowly - and bent to place a kiss where the strap had been. The feel of Zell's lips on her neck and the soft fabric sliding against her skin gave her goose bumps, and Quistis looked back up again as the simple black fabric fell to the floor. The cool air of the room on her exposed breasts was a slight shock, and she stepped in closer to Zell, wanting to feel his warmth against her newly bare body.

"Quisty," Zell whispered, his fingers now playing at the hem of her skirt and sending delicious shivers into the tightness of her groin. Quistis placed her arms around Zell's neck, tired of waiting for his lips on hers; she buried one hand in his slightly damp hair, wanting to tilt his head downward and - slightly wet? Oh, yes, right, the fountain. She paused, the thought of the murky water fighting for importance through the clouded haze of her need. Zell's fingers had moved around to the back of her skirt, where they were pleasantly distracting her by running along the bare skin above her belt. Every time his fingers brushed against the small of her back, she could feel tingles running throughout her body.

Zell leaned forward slightly, his lips parting; "Quisty," he said again, but then another idea struck him. He hooked his fingers into the hem of the skirt and tugged a little. He'd hoped Quistis would understand it was an invitation to follow him, namely into the shower; however, Quistis Trepe had never been much of a follower, and the wild look on her face made it obvious that she had heard a very different sort of invitation. Without hesitation, Quistis reached down to unfasten the black leather belt on her skirt, and before the cautious and rule-following part of her brain could catch up with her, let the garment slide to the floor. She stepped out of it carefully, resting one hand on the doorframe for balance, so self-conscious that she was unable to meet Zell's gaze.

Zell let his eyes roam the newly exposed territory for a moment, because he didn't really think his brain was capable of forming a fully coherent thought. The only thing hiding her from his eyes were the thin, boy-cut briefs that rode low on her hips (and, as he could catch tantalizing glimpses of, high on her ass) and her knee-high heeled leather boots. For a brief moment a fantasy of her holding her whip at the ready in those clothes flashed through his mind, and his mouth went a little dry. He wondered if she realized just how sexy she looked; the shy blush on her cheeks told him otherwise. Still, as much as he was enjoying his unexpected jaunt into fantasy, this wasn't the time or the place for joking around. Quistis' fragile self-confidence was demanding his full attention, and he was more than ready to give it.

"Those boots are hot, Quisty," he murmured, "but we can leave 'em on later, right?" Zell's tone was so hopeful that Quistis momentarily forgot her embarrassment and had to bite back a smile as she bent down to remove her footwear.

His eyes followed the sweep of Quistis' blond hair curving downward to rest on top of her breasts, her rosy nipples already slightly hard from the chill of the room. From there his eyes devoured the creamy skin of her stomach. He actually reached out and traced the long line of another pale scar, and Quistis shivered slightly, although she still wasn't looking directly at him. The scar stopped, unfortunately, at the ribbony edge of her simple black panties. He toyed with the waistband of it, watching the expression on her face; her eyes were half-lidded, her lips slightly parted, and every now and then some muscle in her face would jump slightly as his fingers changed direction.

Just watching Quistis' face, already so out of control, was almost terrifyingly hot. It was a shame that he smelled like the sewer waste that Balamb Garden called a fountain. Zell knew it was only a matter of time before Quistis noticed the distinct eau-de-pond-scum clinging to his skin; he was honestly surprised that she hadn't commented on it yet. Perhaps that was a sign of just how badly distracted she was - which was a good thing. Zell also knew harder than he'd known anything in his life that he wasn't going to pass up this particular chance. If it meant Quistis had to come in the shower with him, then so be it. He slipped his fingers beneath the top edge of her black panties and slid them down over her hips, releasing them and letting them fall to the floor.

Quistis pressed herself up against him almost instantly, and for a moment Zell's brain clouded over at the sheer amount of skin-on-skin: her breasts pressed against his chest, the warmth of his groin against her belly and the soft patch of hair rubbing against his thigh. "Quisty," he said reluctantly, closing his eyes - because if he could see her - "Quisty, for real, I smell like a garbage dump, you don't wanna be touchin' me right now -"

"Oh yes I do," Quistis murmured, but she backed away slightly, her face turning a little pink. "But - er," she said, "you're right. A shower is probably... a good idea." Now the note of disappointment was clear in her voice, and Zell had to hide his own grin.

Ch 18, Part II

quistis, ffviii: how not to date blondes, with enkida, zell, quistis/zell

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