The Home in the Storm (FF8, Seifer/Squall)

Title: The Home in the Storm
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Rating: PG-13
Note: For mangacat.

The Home in the Storm
by Renata Lord (snowlight)

*

If he needs to, Seifer Almasy can sleep through hailstorm and hellfire. As such, the thundering downpour outside didn't stop him from getting his much-needed sleep at this ungodly hour. The slight creak of the front door from a key, however, made him jerk up in bed with alert eyes.

And in walked Squall Leonhart, looking like a shaggy wild cat thoroughly thrashed by the storm.

"'bout time, Leonhart. Why didn't you answer my calls?"

"Power dead," Squall muttered. Maybe it was the coldness from the rain, but the blonde's face actually looked all shades of gray. He edged towards the bed with apparent effort, then promptly collapsed by Seifer's side with a thud.

"Fuck, you look like shit."

He received no reply, no retort, not even a "whatever." Frowning, he leaned over and slapped Squall's face lightly, trying to make the other man look at him. "Got hurt?"

"No...."

By this time, however, Seifer had already caught that distinctive scent.

"You bled."

It must had been a great deal of blood loss, too. Even the raging rain couldn't flood away the smell. Not all of it, anyway. Not to Seifer.

"I'm okay...." Squall's eyes were still closed as he made a half-hearted attempt to burrow under the woolen blanket.

"Like fuck you are. I'm calling Kadowaki."

Before Seifer could reach the phone, a weak but insistent hand clung onto his forearm as if it was a life raft.

"Tomorrow...."

"Leonhart—"

Blue eyes snapped open to look at him, perhaps the closest thing to a plea he would ever get. There was no point in arguing because he knew he lost.

"First thing tomorrow then, you understand? No bullshit about how you are all better now and all you need is a fuck."

To his surprise, Squall didn't contest that point either. Instead he felt the other body pulling up to his, sinking into the middle of the bed and relaxing once more.

Grunting, Seifer dragged over an extra blanket to dry off Squall's drenched hair. Squall didn't protest, as he had already fallen asleep.

*

Finis

The Home in the Storm (FF8, Seifer/Squall)

Title: The Home in the Storm
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Rating: PG-13
Note: For mangacat.

The Home in the Storm
by Renata Lord (snowlight)

*

If he needs to, Seifer Almasy can sleep through hailstorm and hellfire. As such, the thundering downpour outside didn't stop him from getting his much-needed sleep at this ungodly hour. The slight creak of the front door from a key, however, made him jerk up in bed with alert eyes.

And in walked Squall Leonhart, looking like a shaggy wild cat thoroughly thrashed by the storm.

"'bout time, Leonhart. Why didn't you answer my calls?"

"Power dead," Squall muttered. Maybe it was the coldness from the rain, but the blonde's face actually looked all shades of gray. He edged towards the bed with apparent effort, then promptly collapsed by Seifer's side with a thud.

"Fuck, you look like shit."

He received no reply, no retort, not even a "whatever." Frowning, he leaned over and slapped Squall's face lightly, trying to make the other man look at him. "Got hurt?"

"No...."

By this time, however, Seifer had already caught that distinctive scent.

"You bled."

It must had been a great deal of blood loss, too. Even the raging rain couldn't flood away the smell. Not all of it, anyway. Not to Seifer.

"I'm okay...." Squall's eyes were still closed as he made a half-hearted attempt to burrow under the woolen blanket.

"Like fuck you are. I'm calling Kadowaki."

Before Seifer could reach the phone, a weak but insistent hand clung onto his forearm as if it was a life raft.

"Tomorrow...."

"Leonhart—"

Blue eyes snapped open to look at him, perhaps the closest thing to a plea he would ever get. There was no point in arguing because he knew he lost.

"First thing tomorrow then, you understand? No bullshit about how you are all better now and all you need is a fuck."

To his surprise, Squall didn't contest that point either. Instead he felt the other body pulling up to his, sinking into the middle of the bed and relaxing once more.

Grunting, Seifer dragged over an extra blanket to dry off Squall's drenched hair. Squall didn't protest, as he had already fallen asleep.

*

Finis