#ff8 fic

Before, during, after-- Seifer and Quistis have been at each other's throats since the beginning, and will probably be forever.

For the Seiftis Forever drabble challenge, "you might not be afraid of me, but I know you've thought about me naked."

The Darker The Weather, The Better The Man

Final Fantasy 8 Fanfiction Pairing: Seifer Almasy / Squall Leonhart

Chapter 4 is now up!

Outtake:

"Stay here tonight." Seifer heard himself say before his brain could catch on. Oh, this was great, a wonderful idea. What could possibly go wrong with him being stuck inside all night with Squall fucking Leonhart?

Of all places for Seifer to end up, it had to be a festering trash heap like this motel, in one of the rankest parts of Timber. He’s been missing for months, and there’s been no word of him since he abandoned Raijin and Fujin in FH six months ago.

Until now.

(Everyone knows what happens to the sorceresses; no one knows what happens to the knights.)

Written with @siobhann

Of all places for Seifer to end up, it had to be a festering trash heap like this motel, in one of the rankest parts of Timber. He’s been missing for months, and there’s been no word of him since he abandoned Raijin and Fujin in FH six months ago.

Until now.

(Everyone knows what happens to the sorceresses; no one knows what happens to the knights.)

Written with @siobhann

Would he change any of it, if given the chance? Squall/Rinoa, both then and now, for @angelosearch.

Of all places for Seifer to end up, it had to be a festering trash heap like this motel, in one of the rankest parts of Timber. He’s been missing for months, and there’s been no word of him since he abandoned Raijin and Fujin in FH six months ago.

Until now.

(Everyone knows what happens to the sorceresses; no one knows what happens to the knights.)

Written with @siobhann

He's certain Garden's sent her to hunt him down, to drag him back. She'd just wanted a nice vacation after the war.

Too bad no one ever gets what they want. (Seiftis; revised 2023.)

Afterward, there are celebrations, parties, a whirlwind of events that the freshly-minted Commander of Balamb Garden couldn't escape even if he wanted to.

And, god, he wants to.

Which is why he's here, sitting on the furthest dock that he could get to without a boat of his own, in the dark, watching the party go on without him. Fireworks, music-- he can participate in it all from here, without having to actually participate. Or dance.

He's very tired of dancing.

"Well, well." A masculine voice, drawing every syllable in those two words out far enough to hurt. Heavy footsteps follow, setting the dock to tremble slightly.

Squall sighs, because of course nothing peaceful can last, and looks back over his shoulder. He's expecting anyone else-- Irvine, Zell. Nida, even.

He gets Seifer goddamned Almasy instead, standing there holding a six-pack of beer and a pizza that's already greasing through its thin white paper box, standing in the ray of moon like it's a spotlight just for him.

"Could it be? Commander Leonhart, in the flesh?" A grin, and his title rankles in Seifer's mouth, like something sour.

Squall sighs again, and shakes his head, moving to get to his feet. "I was just leaving."

"Nah, it's fine. Sit down." Seifer does just that, too, gracefully without trying, and drops the box of pizza between them, ripping one of the beers out of its plastic prison. "You playing hooky?"

He lets himself lower back down, hesitantly, and shrugs. Something in the water splashes-- he squints, trying to see, and can't.

"A man of many words. As always."

"Shut up."

Seifer snorts, sips his beer. "I see we're trying complex insults now."

Seifer hasn't offered, and Squall doesn't ask, just takes one of the cans for himself. It's cold, sweaty, probably from the gas station up the road where they don't ask for ID. It's also sour and too hoppy for his tastes; he grimaces and keeps drinking.

"What are you doing out here, anyway?"

It's Seifer's turn to shrug, an expansive motion. "I didn't get an invitation to the party." Obviously. It doesn't have to be said-- he can read between the lines.

"Yeah, well. Next time, don't start an international incident, and I'll get you on the guest list."

It's probably too early to joke about it, but Seifer laughs anyway, far too pleased to be genuine.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Silence follows, but it's not weird-- not companionable, but not weird. Which is interesting, considering that six months ago, they had been actively trying to kill each other. The first cans are empty faster than either of them probably expect; the pizza follows, and Squall doesn't realize how hungry he is until two slices vanish down his throat.

He pulls a couple more beers out of the rings, since it seems like fair game now, and reaches out to hand one to Seifer-- he jolts, like he's been startled (or shocked, Squall can't help but thinking.)

Both of them stay still for a moment, and he sets the can down on the weathered wood instead. Seifer waits until Squall's hand pulls back before he takes it, pops the tab, drinks.

"You good?" He regrets saying anything the second he does, but call it morbid curiosity. He's got a title, an office, more money than he'll ever be able to do anything with. Trauma. Sleepless nights. A sorceress girlfriend on a train back to Timber as they speak.

Seifer had gotten several months in the local prison, cooling his heels while Garden tried to figure out what to do with him. Trauma. A torn-apart knighting and a report in his file about maiming several inmates during his stay.

(It's why Garden took him back, keeps him on a short leash doing clean up work for basically no pay.)

Seifer stares at him like he's just spoken a different language, or grown an extra head; for a second, Squall thinks he might just shove him in the ocean for asking.

"--Yeah. I mean, this is bullshit," gesturing to his back, where there's a tiny scar and a tracking implant embedded deep, "but I mean... Better than being locked up."

A shrug. They're going to be fluent in shrugs by the end of this.

"What about you?"

He has to think about it, but eventually nods. Resists the urge to shrug again. Fails.

"Yeah. If you need anything..."

"I'll be fine, Leonhart."

"Okay."