"Seifer Almasy to the Commander's office."
Waving briefly at Xu, Seifer pushed open the double doors and strode into the office as if it were his own. He began to smirk the instant he saw Squall. He couldn't help it. Not that he really wanted to. The smirk tended to piss Squall off, and there was nothing Seifer liked more than pissing Squall off.
"You called?" he asked mischievously.
Squall ignored him. "There was something in Instructor Botelier's report about you that I wanted to discuss."
So Squall wanted to play the 'you are beneath me game', eh? Fine. Seifer could deal. Just like he always had.
Stalking across the office and around the desk, Seifer bent down and brushed Squall's bangs out of his eyes. One finger gently traced the scar on the bridge of his nose.
Hyne, the day he gave Squall that scar… That was one for the record books. The stuff of legends. Thunder crashing, blood singing, mortal wounds. What would have been mortal wounds, if not for a couple of Curas. Whatever. It had started off like it always had. Seifer had tried to piss Squall off, and, inevitably, Squall had managed to piss him off instead. He couldn't help it. It just happened. It always happened. Squall had been impossible to ignore, from the moment Seifer had met him.
He remembers the first time he saw Squall. A tiny little munchkin whose whole body had been seemingly composed of chocolate brown hair and gray blue eyes. There had been nothing else to him. It wasn't love at first sight. Not like that. But it had certainly been infatuation. He'd watched the younger boy out of the corner of his eye for about a week, and then settled for outright staring. Squall didn't care. It seemed that Squall didn't care about much of anything except Ellone.
They'd lived in their own world, one where Seifer didn't belong. As much as he tried to, he couldn't. Ellone was nice enough to him but it was always clear that Squall was focused only on Ellone. And Seifer hadn't cared about what Ellone thought of him. Only Squall.
So he'd just watched. At least until the day Ellone left. He had been sorry to see her go. She was the coolest of the girls, after all. She wasn't scared of heights or ghosts or bugs. He thought maybe he could try to be Squall friend then, but Squall had disappeared. He had gone away to cry on his own and Seifer let him.
After that, no one was Squall's friend. The rest of the Orphanage Gang stopped after he knocked over their sandcastles, or pulled their hair, or stood and stared at them. Seifer figured he had been a glutton for punishment. He'd tried to get through to Squall time and time again with no luck. Squall refused to let anyone in.
Seifer had been taken to Garden barely a month later.
When Squall had shown up again he hadn't known him. The GF's had made sure of that. But whatever had enticed Seifer in the first place was still there. It had seemed destined even. They were the only gunbladers at Garden, and fate chose to bind them closer and closer together with each passing year. With Zell, with Quistis, and with Selphie. The scars. The whole Sorceress mess, sure, but Seifer didn't think about that more than he had to.
And now they were bound. Seifer made damn sure that when he'd come back Squall had known it. He made sure everyone knew it.
Grabbing hold of Squall's chin, Seifer tilted his face up and brushed a light kiss over Squall's scar. Squall froze, and his breathing hitched. Seifer took that as a chance to give Squall a real kiss. The kind where Squall's eyelashes fluttered before his eyes closed, and he moaned deep in his chest. Seifer felt Squall's hand on his chest in a brief moment of resistance before turning into a caress.
Seifer sat back and began to grin like a loon.
"Now, what was that about a report?"
Two spots of color appeared high on Squall's cheekbones. He frowned and began to rummage around on his desk. "Well, I had it right here just a second ago…"
Seifer felt his smirk return in full-force. Squall was now completely flustered. Great. Time for him to make his escape. See ya.
He was about halfway to the door before all escape was made absolutely hopeless.
"Where do you think you're going, cadet?"
Seifer stopped dead in his tracks. No one – no one – would dare move away from Squall Leonheart when he used that tone of voice. And to Seifer, it meant only two things. He was in deep, deep shit, or was about to get good and truly fucked.
He was sincerely hoping for the second.