Fic post: "Zell-Sexual." Copious ramblings attached to this one, y'all; I'm sorry!
My stomach doesn't love me. To many people, it's, like, the singular most important organ, given that we live in a country called America, where food is plentiful and fattening and often delicious. To me, it's a source of torture and amazement that my own body would rebel against me like this. (Random Lame X-Nerd from My Brother's Myspace Forum Activities says: "hay mabey I have a mutant stoumack lol," but Talyn shoots him.) Summer school doesn't love me, either; I was up late last night in anticpation for it to start today, and I still have my clothes laid out as if I'm going to have to get up and go, but no, it starts tomorrow, on a Tuesday, of all things. Confusing, that. My brain hurts a bit. (Another Random Lame X-Nerd from...okay, whatever says: "hay mabey I hav ea mutant brayne 2 lol!!1!" but Talyn shoots him, too.)
Two new things: number one, a new icon, featuring Arashi from X/1999. I wanted to make a Yuzuriha icon, but my mood didn't quite lend itself to such a decadently cheerful creature as she is, so I picked Arashi's quieter character and toyed with it a little bit to come out with an icon that looks dark, has lyrics from a vaguely dark song - Shackles by Vertical Horizon - and isn't meant to be dark, just a little bit morose. Not a lot, though. The second new thing...
I've written a new (short) fic, a rather smutty fic that I think quite deserves its NC-17 rating but might, just barely, squeak by with an R if I were feeling generous with the maturity level. Zelly, you chicken wuss, don't you dare kill me for this one. I'm actually pretty proud of it, though I shouldn't be admitting that; it gives a wide, wide opening for everybody to come in and read this and find fault with it. I'm proud of it because it's not all about the sex scene, and I even cut off the part at the end where I was going to write a sex scene. Several times, I thought over why I wanted to have the sex scene, and I came to the revelation that I didn't, in fact, want to include it at all. Instead, I settled for more dialogue between Seifer and Zell, who are possibly my favorite Final Fantasy VIII couple ever, even more than Squall and Irvine. That's considerable, in case I have to add that in to explain to you the gravity of my love for this couple. Anyway, because they aren't getting any action in "Whatever Ever You Are," I had to give them some action, and reading silly amounts of Iceman/Pyro fanfiction left me with a taste in my mouth to do this fic. It's a brief one-shot, not a lot to crow and caw over, but I do like it. I thoroughly enjoyed writing it and I'm going to thoroughly enjoy seeing thoughts about it pop up in my comments, if I do get any. One person I do expect to comment is my dear friend Wakka-wan-wan, but knowing her, she's sworn off the Internet completely as of this week and I'll have to call her to up the ante of her interest. I imagine she would like it, in spite of the blatant insertion of snippets of sex scenes, and in spite of the lack of detail about the subplot going on regarding Seifer's status as a SeeD. That's right, it's set in the future of the Final Fantasy VIII world, when Seifer is no longer Ultimecia's Knight and has returned to Balamb Garden. For all intents and purposes, Cid has disappeared in this story, and Squall is addressed as "Commander," so I'm assuming - yes, even if it came from my imagination, I have to assume, as I didn't consider it - he's the one in control of Garden. Thus, he's in control of Seifer's career, as much as that irks Seifer, and as oblivious to that as Zell is, thinking that because Seifer takes orders from Quistis, the chain of command is disguised. Well, so as not to give away the entire plot of the fic, I might as well present it to you right now and finish my ramblings afterward. Enjoy the LJ-cut and the anal sex!
Zell-Sexual
by Talyn, a.k.a. Silent Bystander
Summary: In the heat of an argument about his sexuality, Seifer clears himself of guilt and tries to purge his mind of some heated memories of himself and Zell - make that chicken wuss.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: SeiferxZell, IrvinexSquall and SquallxRinoa implied
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer (just realized I've been forgetting these): Final Fantasy VIII, along with its characters, isn't mine. More's the loss, as I could've made that game really flaming hot, but whatever, I'm not really that grandiose. Not my property - period.
Warnings: explicit sexual content - between two males, no less, though that shouldn't have to have its own warning - excessive profanity, courtesy of Seifer; very, very, very mild violence; Seifer's oral fetish that has, at least in my writing, never been explored till now (you'll see what I mean); introduction of a background original character whose presence in the story serves to ignite the current situation (again, you'll see as you read).
"You think I'm gay."
"Actions speak louder than words," Zell - chicken wuss! - quoted.
From where Seifer was standing, looking out the window with his hands resting on the slick, cool pane of glass, he couldn't see what the chicken was doing, but likely, he was rolling his eyes. Thought he was better than Seifer because he could hurl out some trite wisdom now and again, thought he could win any argument because he was the good guy. Oh, hell, no, Zell had never made a mistake in his life, and Seifer was the moron who'd served Ultimecia willingly; that made Zell - chicken wuss! - a fucking saint, didn't it?
"So I fuck you a few times. Leonhart fucked Rinoa - does that mean him fucking Kinneas is illegitimate or some shit?" Seifer demanded.
"You've never fucked anyone but me," Zell said, as if he were mocking Seifer, bragging. He had that tone in his voice, but when Seifer whipped around to clock him one, teach the little shithead a lesson in humility, he looked solemn, almost pitying. His eyes were focused on the floor, refusing to look up at Seifer, or even at his back as he turned to look out the window again. "But you're right, Seifer, who you fuck doesn't make what you are."
"Stop trying to agree with me! I want to kick you outta here - break up with you! - and you're making it hard!" snapped Seifer. This time, he did turn around all the way, raising a fist as though he were going to shake it, the way Zell shook his fists when he was encapsulated in the rage of the moment.
He didn't shake his fist. He stared at Zell's lowered eyes till the chicken wuss had to look up, had to see the hate he was trying to radiate, had to concentrate only on Seifer. Not on his hero worship of Squall, the prissy golden boy who still could do no wrong, even though he'd cheated on his golden girl to run off with the slut from Galbadia. Not on the sex, or on Seifer shoving him into walls to kiss him in the hallway, or on any of his friends or whatever shit it was he was doing in the classes he was teaching now. He just had one class a day, but that was more than Seifer could say; he was still in the lower officer ranks of SeeD, still shunted to the side like an old pair of jeans with too many holes to be comfortable and appropriate anymore. He had just such a pair himself. Seifer couldn't bring himself to throw the damn ratty things away when they reminded him so achingly of himself and his circumstances.
"Seifer," Zell started.
"Seifer," Zell said, his name an electrified sigh coming from that mouth, charged with energy powerful enough to make Seifer feel like he was growing weak. He shoved Zell face down against his bed and parted his legs, finding Zell's anus with his fingertips, then, remembering how painful this could be, removing them to shove them into Zell's open, panting mouth.
He felt like he was going to come right then, watching Zell suck on his fingers, drooling on him as he tried to breathe around them in his mouth and gave up. Zell breathed through his nose, little, hissing breaths, until Seifer popped his fingers out and left an accidental brush of spit on the inside of Zell's thigh on his way to press both fingers into him.
"Seifer," Zell said again, louder, spreading his legs wider. Temptingly, he looked back over his shoulder at Seifer, eyes so blue they made Seifer's heart hurt just a little bit from the honesty, the intensity. Eyes like too-bright flowers, Seifer thought, but banished it so he could fuck Zell on his fingers, watch him writhe, watch his eyes roll back and his eyelids flutter closed, dark blond lashes hiding everything. They were beaded with tears like tiny diamonds on the tips, like expensive jewelry that was too ugly for Zell's own beauty.
Funny how Seifer had never noticed till now how gorgeous Zell was; it took him scissoring his fingers in Zell's ass, stretching him out a little bit roughly, shoving into the rosy, blushed pink of his anus, to see those glimmering tears on Zell's eyelashes as beautiful. Before, he'd always been pissed off whenever he saw crying, but all he wanted was to sheathe his cock in Zell's pretty ass and fuck till he could forget how much he normally detested Zell, how he was despoiling one of Squall's beloved SeeDs, how he wasn't gay, how he wanted this man so shamefully that if he hadn't been so agonizingly hard, he might've lost his erection before he could impale Zell and fuck and fuck and fuck.
When his cock was in Zell to the hilt, Zell screamed, "Seifer!" and the tears on his eyelashes were gone completely, fallen away when Zell's eyes opened wide and his fingers scrambled for purchase on the once-starched-stiff bedsheets.
"Don't you 'Seifer' me!" Seifer said. "Look, me fucking you doesn't mean we're in love, either, Dincht. It doesn't mean anything but that I like your body, maybe that I need an outlet really bad after all the shit I put up with all day. You're around to get that off my mind, not to make me turn queer for your sorry ass."
Zell looked startled. "I didn't -" he cut himself off, shaking his head. "I thought you were proud of yourself. You made SeeD. You're doing lots of missions, you don't have to answer directly to Squall; you get all your orders from Quistis... You always seemed so concentrated on the sex that I figured..."
"Thinking's not your strong suit," said Seifer softly, without losing any vitriol.
"Look, I didn't come here to be insulted! I came here 'cause I wanted to help you out!" Zell shouted. He shook his fist at Seifer, then slashed his hand down to the side as if he were batting away a particularly loudly buzzing mosquito. "When Squall said you were facing a hearing for beating up one of your cadets, I wanted to find out why you did it, and now you're accusing me of calling you gay? I don't get you, I really don't get you at all and it pisses me off when you write me off as some cheap fuck!"
"Well, you know what they say about 'you are what you eat,' Dincht, and that'd make you dirt cheap and easy," Seifer said. "And if you really wanna know? That dumbfuck came onto me, tried to cop a feel on my ass while I was wounded. I leaned over for two seconds to get my bearings and he comes over, slides his hands down my back, says, 'Shit, Captain, let me help you out.'" Seifer resisted the urge to spit bitterly, recalling how his blood caught fire with rage, boiling like magma under his skin. He had girlfriends once, before Zell, and they'd touched him plenty, but only Zell had touched his ass before. To him, anybody else feeling him up there was a violation, and not one to be taken lightly, at that. "If I told our dear Commander that I beat some kid up after being sexually harassed, who d'you think he'd believe?" Seifer sighed, the story robbing him of most of his remaining energy. All that fueled him now was his fury at Zell, a brand of anger that came to a slow boil but simmered away quickly. If he wanted to keep the fight up, he'd have to stay pissed about the cadet.
"Captain Almasy, are you all right?" the cadet - what was his name? Lang? Leong? Something like that, something that vaguely reminded Seifer of Leonhart - asked. He bounded up alongside Seifer, all eager long legs that would probably spread in a second if Seifer asked it of him.
Yeah, fucking right. "Fine," Seifer said gruffly, holding his left shoulder in a death grip.
"Are you sure? That looks painful," said the cadet.
Seifer wanted to smack the kid away, but he knew how that would be interpreted; he knew that any sign of irritation with the cadet's advances would only spur him on, or it would lead to a fiasco and a confrontation in Leonhart's office. Something like, "Why were you sexually harassing Cadet Leong, Seifer?" and a discharge from SeeD. Or so Seifer imagined. So he turned away from the kid, anger in his ears and in the twist of his stomach as the cadet - his name was Leong, Seifer recalled - touched his shoulder.
"Shit, Captain," said the cadet, his hands tracing lower, over Seifer's shoulderblades, now to the middle of his back, "let me help you out." His hands made it to the small of Seifer's back and finally, repulsively, to the bones of his hips, the first curves of his ass.
Oh, fuck, no. Only Zell was allowed to touch him there, and only then when he was in the mood.
Seifer wheeled around, vision clouded by what he imagined others called "seeing red," and with his good right arm, he punched Leong in the jaw, sending him sprawling backwards, but not quite onto his ass on the ground. He'd fix that. His next punch knocked Leong clear over, the kid crying, "What was that for?!" as he fell, his nose bloodied. Not broken, then, thought Seifer as he leaned down to grab the cadet by his collar and drag him up for another hit, and another, till he was sufficiently bruised, like Seifer's ego. Still holding onto his shoulder, he walked away, toward wherever Zell was, calling over his shoulder,
"A souvenir for you. Fuck off, kid."
Zell looked as if a bomb had exploded not a meter away from his face; his mouth had fallen open and his posture slumped, nothing like the usual almost rigid, yet bouncy carriage so unique to him. "Seifer," he said, and this time, Seifer didn't feel like punching his dim lights out.
Seifer allowed Zell to wrap him in his arms, to kiss him with that hot mouth that he knew from experience could do much more, to silence him with a soft, "Shhhh, Seifer," when he made a quiet grunt of displeasure. He stayed still at first, frozen to the spot. His hands seemed to be attached to his sides for a moment, then, of their own will, they moved to clutch at Zell's waist, his thumbs shoving at the waistband of Zell's baggy shorts, the higher waistband of his boxers. "I really...um, Seifer, I don't want to make this a sympathy fuck."
"Make-up fuck?" asked Seifer, kissing Zell, biting down on his upper lip, tongue laving over the corner of his mouth and the slightly-parted seam of his lips.
"No fuck at all," Zell said. "We should go to Squall -"
"Shut the fuck up," said Seifer. His words were muffled and incoherent against Zell's lush mouth -
Zell going down on him and the pliable heat of his mouth sucking against Seifer's cock, his lips brushing against Seifer's pubes as he sucked down to the root. Hyne, he was good at this, and Seifer had perhaps half a second to wonder whom Zell had been practicing on before Zell pulled up off him, only sucking - hard - on his head now, licking down his cock again and back up to circle its head with that sweet tongue. Seifer decided then how much he wanted to fuck Zell's pert ass, not just his mouth, how much he wanted every part of Zell.
- which was, in turn, opening to let him slick their tongues together, Zell's faintly sweet taste meshing with whatever it was he tasted like to the chicken. Someday, Seifer thought, he would have to ask Zell what he tasted like. He tried to remember if his girlfriends had particular tastes, but they were lost in the blur of everything that was Zell, even their faces disappearing to become the boyish, baby face and bluer than blue eyes he knew too well now to ever erase. Seifer wondered if Zell's face had been tattooed into his brain as the black ink had been tattooed into Zell's cheek and temple, permanently gracing his thoughts as the tribal mark permanently graced Zell's too-perfect features.
He was getting mushy, overly romantic, and while the realization gave him the sensation of wanting to vomit out his digestive tract, Seifer had to keep his stomach and intestines intact as he kissed Zell, fingers carding through soft hair. Zell had forgone his gel today, his hair out of its crest, and Seifer pulled on it gently, liking the feel of it like water through his hands. He licked over Zell's jaw, bit his earlobe, bit the cartilage of the shell of his ear, bit at the taut skin behind it. Zell moaned desperately and his hands found Seifer's shoulders, one squeezing hard on Seifer's bicep, spurring him on. Seifer kissed Zell's mouth again, biting his lower lip, biting the corner of his lips, biting his upper lip. He wanted to bite Zell until the marks were everywhere for everyone to see.
Zell never bit back; he preferred to suck, and now he was sucking Seifer's tongue, his breath damp in Seifer's mouth as the tip of his tongue bumped against the underside of Seifer's. "Seifer, we really should go," he muttered, but then he was sucking on Seifer's lip, licking over where he'd sucked so hard, it felt like Seifer might bruise there. "Oh, Hyne," he breathed.
It took all Seifer's control not to tackle Zell when he broke their lips apart with one last, vengeful suck on the Cupid's bow of Seifer's upper lip. "Come on," Zell said, and Seifer grudgingly followed him from his room and toward the elevator. He didn't have to have Zell lead him by the hand, but as soon as the doors whished closed behind them and they were left alone in the small, sterile space, Seifer grabbed Zell's hand and shoved him against the wall, their linked hands slammed above Zell's head. Seifer pinned Zell's other hand to the wall a little lower and pinned Zell's body to the wall with his own. He kissed Zell, hard, demanding, and canted his hips forward to grind his dick into Zell's abs.
The elevator dinged their arrival on Leonhart's floor, and Seifer relaxed his grip just enough to permit Zell his narrow escape. Quistis was standing outside the elevator, and by the look she gave them as she walked past them on her way inside, she knew what was happening. She raised one eyebrow, but she only nodded in greeting, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Seifer looked away, at Zell's swollen lips, which were infinitely more interesting, and took charge to lead the way to Leonhart's office.
Zell didn't knock or give any indication that they were coming in; neither did Seifer. They just barged in to find the office empty and a note, "Out to lunch," on Squall's desk, in round, curly handwriting that was nothing like the Commander's.
"Fuck!" said Seifer.
"That's the idea," Zell said, fingers flitting over the hem of his own t-shirt.
Seifer looked over at him quizzically and was about to pounce, shove Zell onto Leonhart's desk and jerk his pants down, push his thighs apart, lube him up with the balm he knew Zell kept in his pocket for exactly that purpose. About to, but the door opened behind them just as Seifer moved in for the kill and had his lips inches from devouring Zell's sweet mouth.
"It's no fun if you can't get caught, chickie," murmured Seifer, one hand locking Zell's hips to the wall as he hurried to undo the other man's fly. His fingers didn't seem exactly clumsy, but his movements were slowed with the haze of his lust. His tongue was the only quick part of him as he licked his lips, giving them a fresh coat of spit before he fished Zell's cock out of his pants - for once, Zell was in uniform, not in his damn ridiculous denim shorts - and gave it a quick lap.
Zell made a choking noise and tried to stutter, "I-in the hall, th-though," but it came out more garbled, barely understandable.
Seifer licked a slow path down Zell's cock, then up, his tongue feeling too wet. He was covering Zell in his spit just trying to lick off the precum that was beginning to bubble out at the tip of Zell's cock, not that he minded. He wrapped his lips around Zell and slurped his dick into his mouth, the noise loud in the hallway, seeming to echo off the walls as he sucked down lower. Seifer hummed around Zell's cock and had to restrain a chuckle at Zell's strangled cry. He looked up and saw that Zell had shoved his knuckles into his mouth to keep himself from making too much noise. Seifer set about fighting that. He hummed again, licked right underneath the head of Zell's cock, flattening his tongue against that spot. Zell choked back a moan that became a stifled yell when the index finger of Seifer's other hand found its way back, behind his balls, right in front of his anus. "Seifer!" Zell tried to say. He was going to have to get his uniform cleaned again, and from the smell of it before his nostrils had been filled with the smell of sex, Seifer could tell that it had been freshly cleaned. He rubbed his fingertip against that spot and hummed louder, drawing Zell's cock into the back of his throat to swallow around it. "Fuck!"
Seifer only released Zell's dick long enough to whisper, "That's the idea."
"Can I help you?" asked Squall's cold voice.
"Fuck!" repeated Seifer.
"No, thank you," said Squall. "I was under the impression that you didn't want anything more to do with me until after your case has cleared. If it clears, that is, Seifer."
"It will clear," Zell said, suddenly asserting himself in the conversation. "Seifer, tell Squall what you told me."
"Some new excuse you've invented, Seifer?" asked Squall.
"I don't think sexual harassment is an excuse. Look, the cadet, whatever the hell his name is -"
"Leong," said Squall.
"Yeah. Cadet Leong asked me if I was all right when my left shoulder was dislocated, but he kept on at me until he was running his hands all over my back and touching my ass. Before you ask, no, I didn't give him the impression I wanted him to do that. The little shit did it without my permission, and I don't care who you are or if it's two guys or a guy and a girl, that's harassment," Seifer exploded. He felt like the words had rushed out of him too quickly, like he had spit them out after nearly gagging on them, but Squall apparently got the gist. His eyebrows raised in surprise and he took a small step back, appraising Seifer and Zell in turns. "Ask Zell. He'll corroborate."
Zell nodded fervently at Squall, as if his head were attached to a slinky or a spring that let it keep bouncing up and down like that. Seifer couldn't bring himself to mock Zell when he was nervous, his stomach in knots at the prospect of Squall disbelieving him to the point of discharging him this minute.
"I'll look into that," said Squall. "Come back at 1900 hours."
Taking his turn to nod, but doing so tersely, Seifer turned on his heel and left the room as quickly as his legs would carry him, Zell in tow. They made it to the elevator before Zell threw his arms around Seifer's shoulders and kissed him on the lips, warm and wet and with plenty of tongue sliding against tongue. "You're off the hook!" he cheered, and he kissed Seifer again, this time skipping past pushing his tongue into Seifer's mouth; instead, his tongue coaxed Seifer's out, into his mouth. Seifer took over, biting at Zell's tongue, but gently, like a nip. He sucked on Zell's tongue as consolation, but he went on to bite Zell's jaw, his neck, his cheek, where the lowest tendrils of the tattoo reached.
"Yeah, maybe," said Seifer. He felt strangely peaceful. "Thanks."
Zell was looking at him expectantly, standing with his shirt thrown over one shoulder, boxers and shorts from last night thrown on again after he borrowed Seifer's shower that morning. He still looked disheveled, but now he seemed to want something other than a fuck. "Seifer, aren't you forgetting something?" he asked.
If he thought he was prompting Seifer into thanking him for letting him use his body, he was pathetically mistaken. Seifer smiled at Zell, though he was really only smiling from the memory of watching Zell throwing his head back, watching Zell spear himself on his cock with his lips parted, moaning with every breath. "You're welcome," said Seifer.
Zell glared at him, nostrils flaring and eyes flashing with what looked to Seifer like pure hatred, and he flounced out of the room, taking his cute ass and deep, breathy groans and damp hair with him. On the bed, Seifer laid back and tried not to feel like he was being an utter asshole to the man who'd been so hot, so willing to be debauched and spread open and used, a handful of hours before.
Even without the shock evident on Zell's face - pretty mouth slack, eyes wide open and staring at him in wonderment, eyebrows trying to mate with his hairline - Seifer didn't have to be told outright that he had never thanked anybody, much less Dincht, for anything in the past. He kissed one of Zell's eyelids, forcing him to close that eye, and shrugged. Zell grinned at him and tightened his hold on Seifer's neck, rubbing his compact, muscled body against Seifer's, ramming his hard dick into Seifer's hip.
"Don't get used to that, Zell. I'm not gay."
Zell snorted and kissed him. His lips, warm and inviting, didn't part until Seifer licked them and chewed lightly upon the lower one, forcing his tongue into Zell's mouth. Or maybe "forcing" wasn't the right word, not when Zell opened up his lips and their tongues caressed as if they were lovers embracing, not just extensions of two men's bodies that happened to send glowing pleasure down Seifer's spine and through his gut, straight to his cock. Seifer pulled his lips from Zell's, giving Zell the opportunity to say, "Then what are you? Not straight anymore, if you're calling me Zell!" and kiss him again.
When that kiss broke, Seifer said, "You're more my thing."
"Whoever heard of a Zell-sexual?"
"You did. Now shut the fuck up," said Seifer, his hands sliding down Zell's sides to cup his ass and hold him up so his ass was against Seifer's crotch, where he belonged, where he was supposed to be right now, if not for them being in the damned elevator. It dinged, but Seifer pretended not to hear it so he could squeeze Zell's ass, digging his fingers deep into the crack and slipping his tongue into Zell's mouth again. Zell whimpered quietly into Seifer's mouth and thrust against him, but he managed to murmur,
"Thanks."
That was it, yes. No more. If you liked it, perhaps you're disappointed to see the end; if you disliked it, you're fortunate that I offed the sex scene that was about to enter the near-nonexistent plotline. I do want to explain one reason for my antsy feelings about the reaction to this fic, though, because as happy as I am with it, there are some confusion issues that could come up: I don't think that Seifer is overreacting to the cadet's advances. (By the way, I did have the OC in there for a reason; I'll explain that shortly.) I think that anybody who isn't particularly sexually experienced, as Seifer is in this situation - for once, I'm not writing him as an utter slut who's gotten around nearly as much as Irvine - wouldn't be glad to accept flirtation from a near-stranger. I also think that Seifer, as manipulative as he is, wouldn't want to get involved with someone so clearly his inferior. He may well enjoy being the one in control, but I can't see Seifer as somebody who would cop out like that. When he has Zell, a fellow SeeD and an instructor to boot, as his fuck buddy, going for somebody younger and less desirable isn't likely to be on his list of priorities. Zell knows sex - in this story, he's been around the block several more times than has Seifer, and that experience obviously pays off for Seifer. I can't see Seifer as wanting anything to do with some kid greenhorn when he's on the lookout for more of an equal, or if not an equal, someone closer to equal, either his superior, or his close inferior. And I felt that I had to use an original character, as two-dimensional as Cadet Leong was - for God's sake, the cadet is named for Fish Leong, to whom I was listening as I was writing the beginning of the story! That's not a sign of deep thought or all-surpassing originality! - for the role of Seifer's unwanted admirer so as not to bastardize any of the canon characters. I didn't want Nida in the position, since Nida is not only in a position of power as the pilot of Garden, but also isn't about to chase after somebody - or so I believe - with Seifer's notoriety and Seifer's temper, which is also notorious. I didn't want to use Irvine; he's bastardized enough in fanfiction without having my assistance. I didn't want to use any of the girls, because with Seifer's strange sense of honor, I cannot imagine him beating up a girl for hitting on him, and he needed to react with violence to be in trouble with Squall and facing a discharge for his assault of a cadet. For obvious reasons, I couldn't use Squall or Zell, and everyone else, like Laguna, was ruled out with my idea of common sense. It wasn't logical to have Laguna in the fic, or to have Raijin or Fuujin, Seifer's cronies and best friends, hitting on him when they spend so much time with him and it's never veered into the sexual realm. So an OC it was, and I don't feel that he interrupts the story too badly, other than having that Nida-like problem of nobody ever remembering his name well. Not that it's a big deal, but maybe I need to remove those parts to give him less screentime. My only real reason for leaving them in is to show how unimportant and insignificant he is to Seifer, other than causing Seifer distress when he refuses to back off and take a hint. I mean, he's not important enough for anybody to remember his name, so what business does he have trying to insert himself in Seifer's life?
As for any severe lack of chemistry between Seifer and Zell, and as for Zell being in his stereotypical place as the uke, I have no excuse, but no regrets, either. I still like how this came out and I do believe that there is some chemistry; I just didn't try to ply for cheap approval by siccing a horrible situation on them and forcing them to bond. In fact, if anything, I copped out on the situation and stayed away from getting into too much detail with it and possibly jeopardizing the believability of Zell standing by Seifer when to do so puts him in a compromising position. To combat Zell being a total stereotypical uke, I don't think that he is. For one thing, he only cries in one scene in the fic - more for my own amusement more than anything else - and that's when he and Seifer are having sex for the first time. Seifer's using him. Zell is a bit more emotional than I think he gets credit for; either he's weepy or he's angry or he's hyper, but he's never a combination. He's the one confronting Seifer here, not a very whiny, completely submissive uke thing to do. You wanna read something about submissive ukes, go to an author with a kink about strict sub/dom relationship dynamics. I can point you in the right direction, ya? (Sorry, that just slipped out! ^^6) But anyway, Zell is also the more sexually experienced one - atypical when ukes are supposed to be blushing virgins, or traumatized from past sexual encounters so they're preconditioned into a nice angst tool for the seme and the writer to manipulate - and he takes charge in forcing Seifer to go see Squall. Besides, there is something to be said for those people with the sub/dom chip on their shoulders, and that is that they recognize that the one on the bottom has all the power. We think it's a control thing for a man - or a woman, granted - to be on top, but in fact, it isn't him (or her - just assume that for the rest of this discussion) calling the shots. He has to take his cues from the person, male or female, on the bottom. He does something the uke/bottom/taker/screwee/whoever doesn't like, he's going to pay for it miserably, either by the end of the sex act itself, or by a later date, like the next day. Since I don't like Zell being too overwhelmingly pathetic that he's an easy target, I don't try to write him like he's out to be beaten and raped at every corner he rounds. Someday, I'm gonna have to write slut!Zell to prove my point, and make slut!Zell completely in control - and he knows it, which could be an interesting dynamic to pit him against Seifer and see them battle for power. So yeah. If you truly think that Zell is playing the whiny, crybaby uke boy, you can complain to me, not that I'll likely go back and change that. I'll at least try to understand where you're coming from.
Okie dokie. Now that I've successfully avoided speaking about myself too much - a little off the subject, I really want to do an experiment in which I walk around all day saying things and narrating my actions in the third person, like, "Don't change the channel. Talyn wants to watch this," and, "We need to go to Talyn's classroom," or, "Will you hold Talyn's stuff for a minute?" and see how pissed off people get with the annoying speech pattern - I'm'a get on with life online.
"I consider criticism merely a preliminary excitement, a statement of things a writer has to clear up in his own head sometime or other, probably antecedent to writing; of no value unless it comes to fruit in the created work later."
Two new things: number one, a new icon, featuring Arashi from X/1999. I wanted to make a Yuzuriha icon, but my mood didn't quite lend itself to such a decadently cheerful creature as she is, so I picked Arashi's quieter character and toyed with it a little bit to come out with an icon that looks dark, has lyrics from a vaguely dark song - Shackles by Vertical Horizon - and isn't meant to be dark, just a little bit morose. Not a lot, though. The second new thing...
I've written a new (short) fic, a rather smutty fic that I think quite deserves its NC-17 rating but might, just barely, squeak by with an R if I were feeling generous with the maturity level. Zelly, you chicken wuss, don't you dare kill me for this one. I'm actually pretty proud of it, though I shouldn't be admitting that; it gives a wide, wide opening for everybody to come in and read this and find fault with it. I'm proud of it because it's not all about the sex scene, and I even cut off the part at the end where I was going to write a sex scene. Several times, I thought over why I wanted to have the sex scene, and I came to the revelation that I didn't, in fact, want to include it at all. Instead, I settled for more dialogue between Seifer and Zell, who are possibly my favorite Final Fantasy VIII couple ever, even more than Squall and Irvine. That's considerable, in case I have to add that in to explain to you the gravity of my love for this couple. Anyway, because they aren't getting any action in "Whatever Ever You Are," I had to give them some action, and reading silly amounts of Iceman/Pyro fanfiction left me with a taste in my mouth to do this fic. It's a brief one-shot, not a lot to crow and caw over, but I do like it. I thoroughly enjoyed writing it and I'm going to thoroughly enjoy seeing thoughts about it pop up in my comments, if I do get any. One person I do expect to comment is my dear friend Wakka-wan-wan, but knowing her, she's sworn off the Internet completely as of this week and I'll have to call her to up the ante of her interest. I imagine she would like it, in spite of the blatant insertion of snippets of sex scenes, and in spite of the lack of detail about the subplot going on regarding Seifer's status as a SeeD. That's right, it's set in the future of the Final Fantasy VIII world, when Seifer is no longer Ultimecia's Knight and has returned to Balamb Garden. For all intents and purposes, Cid has disappeared in this story, and Squall is addressed as "Commander," so I'm assuming - yes, even if it came from my imagination, I have to assume, as I didn't consider it - he's the one in control of Garden. Thus, he's in control of Seifer's career, as much as that irks Seifer, and as oblivious to that as Zell is, thinking that because Seifer takes orders from Quistis, the chain of command is disguised. Well, so as not to give away the entire plot of the fic, I might as well present it to you right now and finish my ramblings afterward. Enjoy the LJ-cut and the anal sex!
Zell-Sexual
by Talyn, a.k.a. Silent Bystander
Summary: In the heat of an argument about his sexuality, Seifer clears himself of guilt and tries to purge his mind of some heated memories of himself and Zell - make that chicken wuss.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: SeiferxZell, IrvinexSquall and SquallxRinoa implied
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer (just realized I've been forgetting these): Final Fantasy VIII, along with its characters, isn't mine. More's the loss, as I could've made that game really flaming hot, but whatever, I'm not really that grandiose. Not my property - period.
Warnings: explicit sexual content - between two males, no less, though that shouldn't have to have its own warning - excessive profanity, courtesy of Seifer; very, very, very mild violence; Seifer's oral fetish that has, at least in my writing, never been explored till now (you'll see what I mean); introduction of a background original character whose presence in the story serves to ignite the current situation (again, you'll see as you read).
"You think I'm gay."
"Actions speak louder than words," Zell - chicken wuss! - quoted.
From where Seifer was standing, looking out the window with his hands resting on the slick, cool pane of glass, he couldn't see what the chicken was doing, but likely, he was rolling his eyes. Thought he was better than Seifer because he could hurl out some trite wisdom now and again, thought he could win any argument because he was the good guy. Oh, hell, no, Zell had never made a mistake in his life, and Seifer was the moron who'd served Ultimecia willingly; that made Zell - chicken wuss! - a fucking saint, didn't it?
"So I fuck you a few times. Leonhart fucked Rinoa - does that mean him fucking Kinneas is illegitimate or some shit?" Seifer demanded.
"You've never fucked anyone but me," Zell said, as if he were mocking Seifer, bragging. He had that tone in his voice, but when Seifer whipped around to clock him one, teach the little shithead a lesson in humility, he looked solemn, almost pitying. His eyes were focused on the floor, refusing to look up at Seifer, or even at his back as he turned to look out the window again. "But you're right, Seifer, who you fuck doesn't make what you are."
"Stop trying to agree with me! I want to kick you outta here - break up with you! - and you're making it hard!" snapped Seifer. This time, he did turn around all the way, raising a fist as though he were going to shake it, the way Zell shook his fists when he was encapsulated in the rage of the moment.
He didn't shake his fist. He stared at Zell's lowered eyes till the chicken wuss had to look up, had to see the hate he was trying to radiate, had to concentrate only on Seifer. Not on his hero worship of Squall, the prissy golden boy who still could do no wrong, even though he'd cheated on his golden girl to run off with the slut from Galbadia. Not on the sex, or on Seifer shoving him into walls to kiss him in the hallway, or on any of his friends or whatever shit it was he was doing in the classes he was teaching now. He just had one class a day, but that was more than Seifer could say; he was still in the lower officer ranks of SeeD, still shunted to the side like an old pair of jeans with too many holes to be comfortable and appropriate anymore. He had just such a pair himself. Seifer couldn't bring himself to throw the damn ratty things away when they reminded him so achingly of himself and his circumstances.
"Seifer," Zell started.
"Seifer," Zell said, his name an electrified sigh coming from that mouth, charged with energy powerful enough to make Seifer feel like he was growing weak. He shoved Zell face down against his bed and parted his legs, finding Zell's anus with his fingertips, then, remembering how painful this could be, removing them to shove them into Zell's open, panting mouth.
He felt like he was going to come right then, watching Zell suck on his fingers, drooling on him as he tried to breathe around them in his mouth and gave up. Zell breathed through his nose, little, hissing breaths, until Seifer popped his fingers out and left an accidental brush of spit on the inside of Zell's thigh on his way to press both fingers into him.
"Seifer," Zell said again, louder, spreading his legs wider. Temptingly, he looked back over his shoulder at Seifer, eyes so blue they made Seifer's heart hurt just a little bit from the honesty, the intensity. Eyes like too-bright flowers, Seifer thought, but banished it so he could fuck Zell on his fingers, watch him writhe, watch his eyes roll back and his eyelids flutter closed, dark blond lashes hiding everything. They were beaded with tears like tiny diamonds on the tips, like expensive jewelry that was too ugly for Zell's own beauty.
Funny how Seifer had never noticed till now how gorgeous Zell was; it took him scissoring his fingers in Zell's ass, stretching him out a little bit roughly, shoving into the rosy, blushed pink of his anus, to see those glimmering tears on Zell's eyelashes as beautiful. Before, he'd always been pissed off whenever he saw crying, but all he wanted was to sheathe his cock in Zell's pretty ass and fuck till he could forget how much he normally detested Zell, how he was despoiling one of Squall's beloved SeeDs, how he wasn't gay, how he wanted this man so shamefully that if he hadn't been so agonizingly hard, he might've lost his erection before he could impale Zell and fuck and fuck and fuck.
When his cock was in Zell to the hilt, Zell screamed, "Seifer!" and the tears on his eyelashes were gone completely, fallen away when Zell's eyes opened wide and his fingers scrambled for purchase on the once-starched-stiff bedsheets.
"Don't you 'Seifer' me!" Seifer said. "Look, me fucking you doesn't mean we're in love, either, Dincht. It doesn't mean anything but that I like your body, maybe that I need an outlet really bad after all the shit I put up with all day. You're around to get that off my mind, not to make me turn queer for your sorry ass."
Zell looked startled. "I didn't -" he cut himself off, shaking his head. "I thought you were proud of yourself. You made SeeD. You're doing lots of missions, you don't have to answer directly to Squall; you get all your orders from Quistis... You always seemed so concentrated on the sex that I figured..."
"Thinking's not your strong suit," said Seifer softly, without losing any vitriol.
"Look, I didn't come here to be insulted! I came here 'cause I wanted to help you out!" Zell shouted. He shook his fist at Seifer, then slashed his hand down to the side as if he were batting away a particularly loudly buzzing mosquito. "When Squall said you were facing a hearing for beating up one of your cadets, I wanted to find out why you did it, and now you're accusing me of calling you gay? I don't get you, I really don't get you at all and it pisses me off when you write me off as some cheap fuck!"
"Well, you know what they say about 'you are what you eat,' Dincht, and that'd make you dirt cheap and easy," Seifer said. "And if you really wanna know? That dumbfuck came onto me, tried to cop a feel on my ass while I was wounded. I leaned over for two seconds to get my bearings and he comes over, slides his hands down my back, says, 'Shit, Captain, let me help you out.'" Seifer resisted the urge to spit bitterly, recalling how his blood caught fire with rage, boiling like magma under his skin. He had girlfriends once, before Zell, and they'd touched him plenty, but only Zell had touched his ass before. To him, anybody else feeling him up there was a violation, and not one to be taken lightly, at that. "If I told our dear Commander that I beat some kid up after being sexually harassed, who d'you think he'd believe?" Seifer sighed, the story robbing him of most of his remaining energy. All that fueled him now was his fury at Zell, a brand of anger that came to a slow boil but simmered away quickly. If he wanted to keep the fight up, he'd have to stay pissed about the cadet.
"Captain Almasy, are you all right?" the cadet - what was his name? Lang? Leong? Something like that, something that vaguely reminded Seifer of Leonhart - asked. He bounded up alongside Seifer, all eager long legs that would probably spread in a second if Seifer asked it of him.
Yeah, fucking right. "Fine," Seifer said gruffly, holding his left shoulder in a death grip.
"Are you sure? That looks painful," said the cadet.
Seifer wanted to smack the kid away, but he knew how that would be interpreted; he knew that any sign of irritation with the cadet's advances would only spur him on, or it would lead to a fiasco and a confrontation in Leonhart's office. Something like, "Why were you sexually harassing Cadet Leong, Seifer?" and a discharge from SeeD. Or so Seifer imagined. So he turned away from the kid, anger in his ears and in the twist of his stomach as the cadet - his name was Leong, Seifer recalled - touched his shoulder.
"Shit, Captain," said the cadet, his hands tracing lower, over Seifer's shoulderblades, now to the middle of his back, "let me help you out." His hands made it to the small of Seifer's back and finally, repulsively, to the bones of his hips, the first curves of his ass.
Oh, fuck, no. Only Zell was allowed to touch him there, and only then when he was in the mood.
Seifer wheeled around, vision clouded by what he imagined others called "seeing red," and with his good right arm, he punched Leong in the jaw, sending him sprawling backwards, but not quite onto his ass on the ground. He'd fix that. His next punch knocked Leong clear over, the kid crying, "What was that for?!" as he fell, his nose bloodied. Not broken, then, thought Seifer as he leaned down to grab the cadet by his collar and drag him up for another hit, and another, till he was sufficiently bruised, like Seifer's ego. Still holding onto his shoulder, he walked away, toward wherever Zell was, calling over his shoulder,
"A souvenir for you. Fuck off, kid."
Zell looked as if a bomb had exploded not a meter away from his face; his mouth had fallen open and his posture slumped, nothing like the usual almost rigid, yet bouncy carriage so unique to him. "Seifer," he said, and this time, Seifer didn't feel like punching his dim lights out.
Seifer allowed Zell to wrap him in his arms, to kiss him with that hot mouth that he knew from experience could do much more, to silence him with a soft, "Shhhh, Seifer," when he made a quiet grunt of displeasure. He stayed still at first, frozen to the spot. His hands seemed to be attached to his sides for a moment, then, of their own will, they moved to clutch at Zell's waist, his thumbs shoving at the waistband of Zell's baggy shorts, the higher waistband of his boxers. "I really...um, Seifer, I don't want to make this a sympathy fuck."
"Make-up fuck?" asked Seifer, kissing Zell, biting down on his upper lip, tongue laving over the corner of his mouth and the slightly-parted seam of his lips.
"No fuck at all," Zell said. "We should go to Squall -"
"Shut the fuck up," said Seifer. His words were muffled and incoherent against Zell's lush mouth -
Zell going down on him and the pliable heat of his mouth sucking against Seifer's cock, his lips brushing against Seifer's pubes as he sucked down to the root. Hyne, he was good at this, and Seifer had perhaps half a second to wonder whom Zell had been practicing on before Zell pulled up off him, only sucking - hard - on his head now, licking down his cock again and back up to circle its head with that sweet tongue. Seifer decided then how much he wanted to fuck Zell's pert ass, not just his mouth, how much he wanted every part of Zell.
- which was, in turn, opening to let him slick their tongues together, Zell's faintly sweet taste meshing with whatever it was he tasted like to the chicken. Someday, Seifer thought, he would have to ask Zell what he tasted like. He tried to remember if his girlfriends had particular tastes, but they were lost in the blur of everything that was Zell, even their faces disappearing to become the boyish, baby face and bluer than blue eyes he knew too well now to ever erase. Seifer wondered if Zell's face had been tattooed into his brain as the black ink had been tattooed into Zell's cheek and temple, permanently gracing his thoughts as the tribal mark permanently graced Zell's too-perfect features.
He was getting mushy, overly romantic, and while the realization gave him the sensation of wanting to vomit out his digestive tract, Seifer had to keep his stomach and intestines intact as he kissed Zell, fingers carding through soft hair. Zell had forgone his gel today, his hair out of its crest, and Seifer pulled on it gently, liking the feel of it like water through his hands. He licked over Zell's jaw, bit his earlobe, bit the cartilage of the shell of his ear, bit at the taut skin behind it. Zell moaned desperately and his hands found Seifer's shoulders, one squeezing hard on Seifer's bicep, spurring him on. Seifer kissed Zell's mouth again, biting his lower lip, biting the corner of his lips, biting his upper lip. He wanted to bite Zell until the marks were everywhere for everyone to see.
Zell never bit back; he preferred to suck, and now he was sucking Seifer's tongue, his breath damp in Seifer's mouth as the tip of his tongue bumped against the underside of Seifer's. "Seifer, we really should go," he muttered, but then he was sucking on Seifer's lip, licking over where he'd sucked so hard, it felt like Seifer might bruise there. "Oh, Hyne," he breathed.
It took all Seifer's control not to tackle Zell when he broke their lips apart with one last, vengeful suck on the Cupid's bow of Seifer's upper lip. "Come on," Zell said, and Seifer grudgingly followed him from his room and toward the elevator. He didn't have to have Zell lead him by the hand, but as soon as the doors whished closed behind them and they were left alone in the small, sterile space, Seifer grabbed Zell's hand and shoved him against the wall, their linked hands slammed above Zell's head. Seifer pinned Zell's other hand to the wall a little lower and pinned Zell's body to the wall with his own. He kissed Zell, hard, demanding, and canted his hips forward to grind his dick into Zell's abs.
The elevator dinged their arrival on Leonhart's floor, and Seifer relaxed his grip just enough to permit Zell his narrow escape. Quistis was standing outside the elevator, and by the look she gave them as she walked past them on her way inside, she knew what was happening. She raised one eyebrow, but she only nodded in greeting, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Seifer looked away, at Zell's swollen lips, which were infinitely more interesting, and took charge to lead the way to Leonhart's office.
Zell didn't knock or give any indication that they were coming in; neither did Seifer. They just barged in to find the office empty and a note, "Out to lunch," on Squall's desk, in round, curly handwriting that was nothing like the Commander's.
"Fuck!" said Seifer.
"That's the idea," Zell said, fingers flitting over the hem of his own t-shirt.
Seifer looked over at him quizzically and was about to pounce, shove Zell onto Leonhart's desk and jerk his pants down, push his thighs apart, lube him up with the balm he knew Zell kept in his pocket for exactly that purpose. About to, but the door opened behind them just as Seifer moved in for the kill and had his lips inches from devouring Zell's sweet mouth.
"It's no fun if you can't get caught, chickie," murmured Seifer, one hand locking Zell's hips to the wall as he hurried to undo the other man's fly. His fingers didn't seem exactly clumsy, but his movements were slowed with the haze of his lust. His tongue was the only quick part of him as he licked his lips, giving them a fresh coat of spit before he fished Zell's cock out of his pants - for once, Zell was in uniform, not in his damn ridiculous denim shorts - and gave it a quick lap.
Zell made a choking noise and tried to stutter, "I-in the hall, th-though," but it came out more garbled, barely understandable.
Seifer licked a slow path down Zell's cock, then up, his tongue feeling too wet. He was covering Zell in his spit just trying to lick off the precum that was beginning to bubble out at the tip of Zell's cock, not that he minded. He wrapped his lips around Zell and slurped his dick into his mouth, the noise loud in the hallway, seeming to echo off the walls as he sucked down lower. Seifer hummed around Zell's cock and had to restrain a chuckle at Zell's strangled cry. He looked up and saw that Zell had shoved his knuckles into his mouth to keep himself from making too much noise. Seifer set about fighting that. He hummed again, licked right underneath the head of Zell's cock, flattening his tongue against that spot. Zell choked back a moan that became a stifled yell when the index finger of Seifer's other hand found its way back, behind his balls, right in front of his anus. "Seifer!" Zell tried to say. He was going to have to get his uniform cleaned again, and from the smell of it before his nostrils had been filled with the smell of sex, Seifer could tell that it had been freshly cleaned. He rubbed his fingertip against that spot and hummed louder, drawing Zell's cock into the back of his throat to swallow around it. "Fuck!"
Seifer only released Zell's dick long enough to whisper, "That's the idea."
"Can I help you?" asked Squall's cold voice.
"Fuck!" repeated Seifer.
"No, thank you," said Squall. "I was under the impression that you didn't want anything more to do with me until after your case has cleared. If it clears, that is, Seifer."
"It will clear," Zell said, suddenly asserting himself in the conversation. "Seifer, tell Squall what you told me."
"Some new excuse you've invented, Seifer?" asked Squall.
"I don't think sexual harassment is an excuse. Look, the cadet, whatever the hell his name is -"
"Leong," said Squall.
"Yeah. Cadet Leong asked me if I was all right when my left shoulder was dislocated, but he kept on at me until he was running his hands all over my back and touching my ass. Before you ask, no, I didn't give him the impression I wanted him to do that. The little shit did it without my permission, and I don't care who you are or if it's two guys or a guy and a girl, that's harassment," Seifer exploded. He felt like the words had rushed out of him too quickly, like he had spit them out after nearly gagging on them, but Squall apparently got the gist. His eyebrows raised in surprise and he took a small step back, appraising Seifer and Zell in turns. "Ask Zell. He'll corroborate."
Zell nodded fervently at Squall, as if his head were attached to a slinky or a spring that let it keep bouncing up and down like that. Seifer couldn't bring himself to mock Zell when he was nervous, his stomach in knots at the prospect of Squall disbelieving him to the point of discharging him this minute.
"I'll look into that," said Squall. "Come back at 1900 hours."
Taking his turn to nod, but doing so tersely, Seifer turned on his heel and left the room as quickly as his legs would carry him, Zell in tow. They made it to the elevator before Zell threw his arms around Seifer's shoulders and kissed him on the lips, warm and wet and with plenty of tongue sliding against tongue. "You're off the hook!" he cheered, and he kissed Seifer again, this time skipping past pushing his tongue into Seifer's mouth; instead, his tongue coaxed Seifer's out, into his mouth. Seifer took over, biting at Zell's tongue, but gently, like a nip. He sucked on Zell's tongue as consolation, but he went on to bite Zell's jaw, his neck, his cheek, where the lowest tendrils of the tattoo reached.
"Yeah, maybe," said Seifer. He felt strangely peaceful. "Thanks."
Zell was looking at him expectantly, standing with his shirt thrown over one shoulder, boxers and shorts from last night thrown on again after he borrowed Seifer's shower that morning. He still looked disheveled, but now he seemed to want something other than a fuck. "Seifer, aren't you forgetting something?" he asked.
If he thought he was prompting Seifer into thanking him for letting him use his body, he was pathetically mistaken. Seifer smiled at Zell, though he was really only smiling from the memory of watching Zell throwing his head back, watching Zell spear himself on his cock with his lips parted, moaning with every breath. "You're welcome," said Seifer.
Zell glared at him, nostrils flaring and eyes flashing with what looked to Seifer like pure hatred, and he flounced out of the room, taking his cute ass and deep, breathy groans and damp hair with him. On the bed, Seifer laid back and tried not to feel like he was being an utter asshole to the man who'd been so hot, so willing to be debauched and spread open and used, a handful of hours before.
Even without the shock evident on Zell's face - pretty mouth slack, eyes wide open and staring at him in wonderment, eyebrows trying to mate with his hairline - Seifer didn't have to be told outright that he had never thanked anybody, much less Dincht, for anything in the past. He kissed one of Zell's eyelids, forcing him to close that eye, and shrugged. Zell grinned at him and tightened his hold on Seifer's neck, rubbing his compact, muscled body against Seifer's, ramming his hard dick into Seifer's hip.
"Don't get used to that, Zell. I'm not gay."
Zell snorted and kissed him. His lips, warm and inviting, didn't part until Seifer licked them and chewed lightly upon the lower one, forcing his tongue into Zell's mouth. Or maybe "forcing" wasn't the right word, not when Zell opened up his lips and their tongues caressed as if they were lovers embracing, not just extensions of two men's bodies that happened to send glowing pleasure down Seifer's spine and through his gut, straight to his cock. Seifer pulled his lips from Zell's, giving Zell the opportunity to say, "Then what are you? Not straight anymore, if you're calling me Zell!" and kiss him again.
When that kiss broke, Seifer said, "You're more my thing."
"Whoever heard of a Zell-sexual?"
"You did. Now shut the fuck up," said Seifer, his hands sliding down Zell's sides to cup his ass and hold him up so his ass was against Seifer's crotch, where he belonged, where he was supposed to be right now, if not for them being in the damned elevator. It dinged, but Seifer pretended not to hear it so he could squeeze Zell's ass, digging his fingers deep into the crack and slipping his tongue into Zell's mouth again. Zell whimpered quietly into Seifer's mouth and thrust against him, but he managed to murmur,
"Thanks."
That was it, yes. No more. If you liked it, perhaps you're disappointed to see the end; if you disliked it, you're fortunate that I offed the sex scene that was about to enter the near-nonexistent plotline. I do want to explain one reason for my antsy feelings about the reaction to this fic, though, because as happy as I am with it, there are some confusion issues that could come up: I don't think that Seifer is overreacting to the cadet's advances. (By the way, I did have the OC in there for a reason; I'll explain that shortly.) I think that anybody who isn't particularly sexually experienced, as Seifer is in this situation - for once, I'm not writing him as an utter slut who's gotten around nearly as much as Irvine - wouldn't be glad to accept flirtation from a near-stranger. I also think that Seifer, as manipulative as he is, wouldn't want to get involved with someone so clearly his inferior. He may well enjoy being the one in control, but I can't see Seifer as somebody who would cop out like that. When he has Zell, a fellow SeeD and an instructor to boot, as his fuck buddy, going for somebody younger and less desirable isn't likely to be on his list of priorities. Zell knows sex - in this story, he's been around the block several more times than has Seifer, and that experience obviously pays off for Seifer. I can't see Seifer as wanting anything to do with some kid greenhorn when he's on the lookout for more of an equal, or if not an equal, someone closer to equal, either his superior, or his close inferior. And I felt that I had to use an original character, as two-dimensional as Cadet Leong was - for God's sake, the cadet is named for Fish Leong, to whom I was listening as I was writing the beginning of the story! That's not a sign of deep thought or all-surpassing originality! - for the role of Seifer's unwanted admirer so as not to bastardize any of the canon characters. I didn't want Nida in the position, since Nida is not only in a position of power as the pilot of Garden, but also isn't about to chase after somebody - or so I believe - with Seifer's notoriety and Seifer's temper, which is also notorious. I didn't want to use Irvine; he's bastardized enough in fanfiction without having my assistance. I didn't want to use any of the girls, because with Seifer's strange sense of honor, I cannot imagine him beating up a girl for hitting on him, and he needed to react with violence to be in trouble with Squall and facing a discharge for his assault of a cadet. For obvious reasons, I couldn't use Squall or Zell, and everyone else, like Laguna, was ruled out with my idea of common sense. It wasn't logical to have Laguna in the fic, or to have Raijin or Fuujin, Seifer's cronies and best friends, hitting on him when they spend so much time with him and it's never veered into the sexual realm. So an OC it was, and I don't feel that he interrupts the story too badly, other than having that Nida-like problem of nobody ever remembering his name well. Not that it's a big deal, but maybe I need to remove those parts to give him less screentime. My only real reason for leaving them in is to show how unimportant and insignificant he is to Seifer, other than causing Seifer distress when he refuses to back off and take a hint. I mean, he's not important enough for anybody to remember his name, so what business does he have trying to insert himself in Seifer's life?
As for any severe lack of chemistry between Seifer and Zell, and as for Zell being in his stereotypical place as the uke, I have no excuse, but no regrets, either. I still like how this came out and I do believe that there is some chemistry; I just didn't try to ply for cheap approval by siccing a horrible situation on them and forcing them to bond. In fact, if anything, I copped out on the situation and stayed away from getting into too much detail with it and possibly jeopardizing the believability of Zell standing by Seifer when to do so puts him in a compromising position. To combat Zell being a total stereotypical uke, I don't think that he is. For one thing, he only cries in one scene in the fic - more for my own amusement more than anything else - and that's when he and Seifer are having sex for the first time. Seifer's using him. Zell is a bit more emotional than I think he gets credit for; either he's weepy or he's angry or he's hyper, but he's never a combination. He's the one confronting Seifer here, not a very whiny, completely submissive uke thing to do. You wanna read something about submissive ukes, go to an author with a kink about strict sub/dom relationship dynamics. I can point you in the right direction, ya? (Sorry, that just slipped out! ^^6) But anyway, Zell is also the more sexually experienced one - atypical when ukes are supposed to be blushing virgins, or traumatized from past sexual encounters so they're preconditioned into a nice angst tool for the seme and the writer to manipulate - and he takes charge in forcing Seifer to go see Squall. Besides, there is something to be said for those people with the sub/dom chip on their shoulders, and that is that they recognize that the one on the bottom has all the power. We think it's a control thing for a man - or a woman, granted - to be on top, but in fact, it isn't him (or her - just assume that for the rest of this discussion) calling the shots. He has to take his cues from the person, male or female, on the bottom. He does something the uke/bottom/taker/screwee/whoever doesn't like, he's going to pay for it miserably, either by the end of the sex act itself, or by a later date, like the next day. Since I don't like Zell being too overwhelmingly pathetic that he's an easy target, I don't try to write him like he's out to be beaten and raped at every corner he rounds. Someday, I'm gonna have to write slut!Zell to prove my point, and make slut!Zell completely in control - and he knows it, which could be an interesting dynamic to pit him against Seifer and see them battle for power. So yeah. If you truly think that Zell is playing the whiny, crybaby uke boy, you can complain to me, not that I'll likely go back and change that. I'll at least try to understand where you're coming from.
Okie dokie. Now that I've successfully avoided speaking about myself too much - a little off the subject, I really want to do an experiment in which I walk around all day saying things and narrating my actions in the third person, like, "Don't change the channel. Talyn wants to watch this," and, "We need to go to Talyn's classroom," or, "Will you hold Talyn's stuff for a minute?" and see how pissed off people get with the annoying speech pattern - I'm'a get on with life online.
"I consider criticism merely a preliminary excitement, a statement of things a writer has to clear up in his own head sometime or other, probably antecedent to writing; of no value unless it comes to fruit in the created work later."