Wingless
March 2002

 

|Seifer|

I wake to the odd feel of water at my feet. Putting my hands underneath me to lift up, I realize I’m on a beach and it is night out. Thankfully, it's nearly full moon so there is enough light to understand the situation. I remember the fight and how good it felt to punch that lard ass in the mouth. I saw Squall watching me and decided to show off. Suddenly, I'm hit by something that must have been a spell. I can vaguely remember falling and the impact of water. Looking to my side, I see Squall sleeping in scrunch position. I'll be damned. He must have pulled me from the water.

There is water at my feet again, prompting me to get up. Once standing, I'm happy to note that my wings are dry enough for flight. If my guess is right, the tide is coming in. I couldn't imagine Squall leaving us too close to the water's edge. After getting some dirt off me, I kneel to wake the brunette. Touching his bare arm, I'm shocked by how cold he is. Ignoring the sounds of the ocean, I'm able to hear harsh breaths from him.

"Damn it, Squall. Don't you know you shouldn't swim when you're sick?"

I lift him into my arms, glad he has a lean body. Carefully I fly up from the beach and make it to the top of the cliff. Unused to crying such weight while flying especially after almost drowning, I decide not to push my luck and walk back to the town instead.

Sometime later, I make it to Squall's home. Not wanting to set the unconscious man down, I kick at the door. I'm surprised by how quickly it is answered. Laguna appears in the open doorway.

"Oh gods, Squall. What happened? No, bring him inside first."

He motions me in and after closing the door, he limps forward to lead the way to Squall's room, his gray wings fluttering nervously. Poor guy must have being worrying half the night about his son. I smile, relieved that the 'cursed boy' has a father that cares deeply about him. On the way here, I had imagined encountering someone who would be upset that Squall hasn't died yet and would refuse to treat him. The way everyone else acts around him, what else was I to assume?

We get to a room that was bare except for a bed, a couple of dressers, and a closet. Not a thing out of place. Of course this would be Squall's room. My arms twinge in thanks when I set the man on the bed. Though he is safely inside, I can't bring myself to move from his side. Instead, I simply stare at the sandy face masked in uneasy sleep. There's a sound of wood on wood as Laguna bumps a chair leg against the door. I didn't even realize he left.

"Here, go ahead and sit. I'll fetch some water and rags along with some medicine while you wait here." And he leaves the room again.

Gratefully, I take one of the chairs he brought in and sit next to the bed. I never thought of it before, but how does Squall keep himself warm? While the summers are nice, it's freezing during the longer winter. I always curl up in the warmth of my feathers. Squall doesn't have that. Just layers of cold sheets. It's unfair that they cut off his wings and force him to live among those who have what he lost. At least it happened when he was just a babe, but still.

I hear Laguna stumble in with two buckets half filled with water. I have a feeling the other halves are currently scattered along the hallway. Taking the buckets from him, I start cleaning some of the sand from Squall's face. The brunette instinctively leans into the coolness. Strange how his head could be so warm and the rest of him freezing.

Laguna goes to the other side of the bed. "Help me get these clothes off. They're still damp."

Together we strip off the shirt and pants, causing goosebumps to appear over the tan skin. With the rag and water, I get as much of the sand off as I can and then lift up the naked body as Laguna pulls down the sheets. After lying him back down and covering him, I dip a new rag into the other bucket of clean water, wring out extra water and place it on his forehead.

"So, care to tell me how my son got in this condition, Seifer?" Laguna asks while trying to get the unconscious man to drink some medicine.

I look up a bit startled that he knew my name and at the added touch of accusation in his voice. Of course Squall must have mentioned my name at least once in his life, and Laguna now seemed the type to find out who was harassing his boy.

"Well, sir, it's a mixture of things. He was out in the rain yesterday and I think he got sick from it. This afternoon he had three people ganging up on him for a fight. When I noticed he was sick, I decided to help. Long story short, I ended up being blown off a cliff into the water. I think he dove in after me and pulled me out. I woke up a while ago on sand with him next to me. And now I'm here."

Laguna sighs and rubs his fingers on Squall's cheek. "If that's the truth, then you’re a lucky man. But I'm confused. Aren't you the boy he is always fighting?"

"Uhn. He's my greatest rival. I really don't know why he would save me like that. I always thought he kind of hated me."

Chuckling, he sat back into his chair. "I think you know how difficult it is to read him. Hell, I thought he secretly hated me until a couple of days ago. You know, it was by my hand he lost his wings."

I didn't know that. It must have killed him inside.

Squall moves onto his side, curling up into a ball. I replace the rag on his forehead. "Are you sure he'll warm up like this? Isn't there something else we can do?"

After a brief moment of eyeing me, he says, "You could get into the bed with him."

"Ah-ha-ha, good joke, old man. And have him kill me when he wakes? Forget that. What about you? You’re his dad."

Standing up he says, "I would but I'm leaving for the mainland in a short while. It's almost predawn. I was going to postpone the trip, but I can tell he'll be in good hands."

"Now, just wait--"

He starts for the door. "He'll probably be in better hands than with me. I can be so clumsy at times. If you need anything, Seifer, just let the maid know. And I'll tell the cook that breakfast will be later than usual. Thank you for your help." And the man closes the door behind himself before I could move from the chair. Damn conniving…

Looking back at Squall, I notice that he's shivering. No helping it. I can think of excuses later. Taking off my own damp clothing, I clean off some sand and shake out my feathers. Pulling down the sheets, I prepare to enter the lion's den. I lift him up so I could get comfortable on the bed first and then gently lie him down on a wing. Hugging him close, I cover our legs with the sheets and then the rest of us with my other wing. Sensing the heat, he snuggles a cheek against my shoulder. I start cursing the position - too many of the right things were touching. But my worry for him overwhelms other emotions. Soon enough, my body remembers the long trip of carrying the man and demands rest.


|Squall|

It was too warm and too soft waking up. There was also the odd sensation of skin on skin. Snapping fully awake, I push away from the body. Unfortunately, this makes the person hug tighter.

"Mmm…I don't wanna…tired…."

"Seifer?!"

The half yelp starts him awake and he lifts a wing just enough to bring light onto us.

He smiles meekly at me. "Ah, morning…Squall."

I don't know what to think or do for several moments. This situation is beyond all logic. How could I be in bed with Seifer? Both of us naked. Recognizing the headboard, this is my bed. And we're naked!

"Listen, Squall. I was just keeping you warm. You were really cold after being in the water and the sheets weren't working. Laguna left, so--" The whole thing was said quickly and in one breath. He takes another breath and continues. "At least give me a running start before you kill me."

The fearful look on his face is pure comical, but I can't find it in me to laugh. I let him stew while I recall memories of yesterday. I was in water? … That's right. Seifer almost drowned. And I fell asleep on the beach. Given this is my room, he must have carried me.

"Wait, what do you mean my father left?"

"Eh? Uh, he said something about going to the mainland… Squall, don't toy with me. Are you going to kill me or not?"

Lying back down on the warm feathers, I close my eyes. "No," and silently I add that I may kill Father. I know he doesn't have any meetings this week since it is a festival of theirs. I hate it when he is smarter than he looks. He knows I saved Seifer for some reason while any other Letivian I would let sink in the salty waters.

"Squall, why aren't you moving?"

"I figured with your arm still on me you wouldn't mind."

He tightens the hold on me. "Umm, good guess. Care to tell me why you dove into cold waters while sick enough to show it just to save my pathetic life?"

"…Because you don't hate me."

He is quiet for a few moments. "Would you believe me if I said I love you?"

My eyes open wide at the question. He…loves me? Compared to everyone except for my father, he knows me the best. He's always been there, even if it were for mainly fighting. After knowing all my faults and of course knowing what I am, he can still love me?

"Squall? Squall! Why are you crying? Shit, I didn't mean--"

"When?"

"Eh? For a long time. But when you were standing in the rain near the cliff's edge, I felt like …Well, you know the saying, you don't know what you have until you lose it. I almost lost you, and I didn't like that feeling the slightest."

It was corny, especially from Seifer, but there's something in the way he said it that makes me believe him. Worse yet, something in me wants to echo that feeling back to him. It was all a bit too much, the emotions I didn't realize I had and my still being sick. Awkwardly, I wrap arms around his waist and place a cheek against his shoulder.

"Squall?"

"Uh-n, too tired. Later."

He complies and lowers his wing to block the light of day. In the darkness and warmth, I fall back to sleep.


|Seifer|

Unlike the brunette, I couldn't go back to sleep. How could I after seeing him cry? All because of my pathetic confession to him. Of every possible reaction I imagined in past years, many including deaths of varying duration, not once did I envision Squall with tears running down his face. And while he didn't reply in kind, the fact he is still here with arms around my body in a very unthreatening manner makes me assume he shares the feeling. He never was a man of words. Either that or he was delirious. Gods, I hope it's not the latter.

After a long while of enjoying the feel of the trusting body sleep next to me, there is a sharp knock on the door. Hoping Squall is too far asleep to care, I lift and fold my wing down to see who is bothering us. At least sheets are still covering us from the waist down.

"Yeah!"

Of all the people, Laguna pokes a head through a slightly opened door. "How is he?"

"He's better, and what the fuck are you doing here? You said you were leaving early this morning," I say trying keeping my voice down.

"He lied to you," a sleepy voice answers. Guess I wasn't quiet enough.

"Ah, Squall. You're awake. How's the fever?"

"It's doing just fine. What do you want?"

Laguna limps in slowly to place a stack of cloth onto a chair. "Oh, just wanted to check in on you. Here's a robe for you and a couple of towels so you both can bathe. There's hot water in the tub right now. If you two go do that, breakfast will be waiting for you by the time you're done. Oh, and there are also some clothes for you, Seifer. See you both at the table." And he leaves us alone.

Squall sighs and tries to roll out of my hold on him. I force him the other way so he ends up on top of me. Before he can ask, I move a hand to his head and push it firmly down so I can kiss him. At first contact, he jerks back. While I prevent him from going too far, I don't push him forward either. I watch his eyes seemingly shift in color along with his internal battle. Shyly, he renews the contact of sensitive skin. It's a short, chaste kiss, but it is amazing.

Pulling back, he says quietly, "The water will cool."

Leave it to him to be logical at all moments. I sigh and help him off the bed.

Instead of moving myself, I watch him walk around the bed with his feline grace. Amazing how the father and son were such opposites, especially considering it's been basically the two of them for seventeen years. I heard the mother died shortly after Squall was born. Something about the combination of problems during childbirth and the heartbreak of her son's wings being removed were too much for her.

Unfazed by my gaze, Squall puts on a robe and throws a towel next to me. Grabbing his own towel, he walks to the door. Tying the cloth around my waist, I hurry after him. The bathing room is only a few doors down, but Squall is already swaying a touch on his feet.

Once in the room and naked again, I immediately start soaping up to preclean before getting into the warm water. At the first idea of the bath, the dried salt water on my body began to itch. It felt good to scrub it off. From the corner of my eye, I watch a still robed Squall who was currently standing in front of a large cabinet. After a bit of thought, he pulls out a large bottle and walks behind me.

"Hey, I saw you naked just a few moments ago, Squally-boy. Why so shy now?"

"Whatever. I thought I'd help with your wings."

Before I can reply, firm hands covered in scented oil are moving along feathers in a massaging motion. I shutter from the pleasure. Cleaning the wings was always a pain, even with the special cleansing oil, but this is something I could get used to easily.

The brunette chuckles at my moan when those fingers hit a sensitive spot. "You don't take good enough care of your wings. There are damaged areas all over."

"Hn, guess I'll just have to marry you then."

Hands stop in their massage, but continue shortly after with a firmer feel. "Stop saying ridiculous things."

I smirk, but don't say anything more for fear of Squall stopping completely. Unlike what I've heard about the human traditions, same sex marriages weren't immoral among Letivians. However, it was discouraged since there were so few Letivians left in the world and it's hard to increase a population without births. Then again, Squall is forbidden to have children because of his "curse". Hell, they'd probably hold a party in my honor for keeping him away from precious females of birthing age. Personally, I just want the brunette for myself. We have been together practically everyday for over ten years anyway, so what would the bond of marriage really change except move our relationship into the direction I want it?

Too soon, Squall finishes. I quickly resoap since the suds had dried with the dirt still intermingled and then pour a bucket of water over my body. Squall sits near me after putting the bottle of oil away, finally removing his robe.

"Can I get your back?"

He looks at a piece of soap as if a foreign object instead of facing me. "…Whatever."

Walking around him, I lather up some soap. Looking upon the bronze skin, I suddenly realize that I've never really seen his back. All these years, he managed to successfully keep the naked flesh hidden from view. Last night was too dark to see it, and this morning I had other things on my mind to focus my attention on it.

As if done just a short time ago, two long reddish scars stretch along his upper back. Entranced on their lengths, I kneel down to get closer. Along one scar, I run a single soap covered finger.

"Don't."

Though he can't see it, I smile tenderly. I lean close to the other scar such that Squall can feel my breath on his skin. With intermediate kisses, I run my tongue up the line. Squall inhales sharply, causing his back to press against my lips.

"…Why?"

Whispering into his ear, I reply, "Because I want to."

While nibbling on the earlobe and eventually his neck, I soap up his back in massaging motions. His tenseness doesn't last long under my strong hands. After rinsing off the skin, I decide to test my limits and return my attention to the scars. Kissing along the other scar, Squall tenses again.

"Seifer, what--"

"Shhh."

Starting my hands at his shoulders, I massage his back as my mouth continues its assault on the red line. Reaching his lower back, my hands move across to the front and brush blindly upon surprisingly partially hard flesh.

"Seifer!" he yelps as his hands grab my forearms.

"Please, let me."

He doesn't reply, but with a slight smile I notice that the brunette isn't trying to pull my hands away. Giving him warning of my intentions, I lightly stroke his penis along the underside. A soft, shaky sigh escapes his lips, but nothing more. As I begin kissing other scar, I grip his length and move my other hand further down to fondle his balls. His hands remain firmly on my arms, but only tighten and release along with my steady pumping motions. Soon enough, he leans hard against me while lifting his hips slightly and after a strained moan, I feel warm liquid on my hands.

I release my hold as I lie to the side of him, hoping to see his face. He stares ahead with glassy eyes, cheeks flushed red.

"Expected better stamina than that, Squally-boy," I tease while licking the come off my fingers.

Raising my eyes once he turns his head towards me, I almost laugh at the confused and shocked expression. I settle on a smirk after a long lick of the fluid.

"You taste pretty good. It's probably better from the source."

His mouth moves, but no sound comes from him. Damn. While I want to make him speechless, I want it from pleasure, not from the touch of panic creeping into his eyes. Guess my limits don't extend as far as I thought they would.

"Sorry, I thought … Well, we both know I don't think much. Sorry."

Sitting up, I decide that I might as well pass on the bath. Squall probably wouldn't be able to relax now with me here. Hell, I'm basically clean anyway, and I have an erection to take care of. I stand up with a grunt and walk stiffly towards the small table holding my towel. A firm hand grasps my wrist. Turning to him, Squall looks shyly at a point to the side.

"Your hair… It hasn't been cleansed yet."

Fingering salty strands of hair on my forehead, I realize he has a good point. But it could wait.

"It's fine--"

He cuts me off by standing up and pointing to the bath. "Get in."

The sudden return of firmness in his voice moves me to the large tub before I realize it. I slowly sink in the warm water until it reaches my chest, making certain freshly cleaned feathers stayed out of the water. Looking over, Squall heads towards me with a bottle in hand. Instead of going behind me as expected, he enters the water himself, straddling me such that he sits on my thighs.

Placing the bottle to the side, he tells me to close my eyes and pours water onto my hair with cupped hands. Keeping my eyes closed, he starts to lather my hair with the contents of the bottle. Enjoying the massage, I moan and stretch forward a bit, pleased with the effect of bringing Squall further up my thighs, teasingly close to my excited member. The wings are a touch uncomfortable with the base pressed against the wall of the tub, but I'll live.

Given the shortness of hair, it doesn't take long to complete the cleaning and soon warm water is running down my face. After a few rinses, I rub remaining water from my eyes so I can see clearly and then focus on Squall's face.

"I… I don't…" His eyes are wary and uncertain. Unlike me, he is inexperienced with this type of situation. Who besides me 'dared' to even touch the cursed one?

Placing a hand on his cheek, I shush him. "It's okay. First, your hair."

I help him lean back to dunk the hair, happily to notice he's much more flexible than I. After a quick, thorough lather, he leans back again to rinse the soap. Carefully, I move him forward such that when he sits up my erection touches his penis. Firm hands on his back, I make sure he doesn't retreat from the contact.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to. But--" I nip and suckle at a cold harden nipple, causing the brunette arch in response and rub sensitive flesh together. "If you could do that a few more times, I'd really appreciate it."

Finally knowing something he could do, Squall smiles ever so slightly and places two hands along the tub edge behind me. Putting his mouth carefully over mine, he begins to rock slowly. With a moan in my throat, I start licking his lips, asking for entrance. The mouth is closed until I return a thrust to his and he groans loudly. He is shocked by my tongue and pulls back slightly. I continue my conquest until he responds tentatively with his own tongue. After some time our kiss breaks when Squall takes a deep, whimpering breath and moves earnestly with his hips. Nibbling his collarbone, I smile at the feel of his stiff member against mine. If he could do this while sick… The possibilities fly from my mind as orgasm floods through my body. When it fades, I notice Squall still moving until there is another gush of warmth in the cooling water.

He falls against me with heaving breaths. Recovering myself, I have only enough energy to place light kisses against his cheekbone and neck.

Eventually we get out of the now cold water and go back to Squall's room without speaking. The clothes Laguna brought for me are a touch tight along the waist, but are better than putting on mine after their dunk in the ocean. Squall is taking his time dressing, focusing his attention on the closet. I walk up and hug him from behind, my cheek nestling in wet hair.

"I meant it when I said I love you."

He leans back into me. Placing his hands onto mine, he squeezes them. "…I…"

"Umm, don't worry. I understand."

He twists around in my hold, and after an intense look into my eyes, he kisses me softly on the lips. Pulling back, he smiles widely. My absolutely stunned look makes him laugh lightly. I feel like I'm witnessing a statue come to live.

He places a warm hand against my cheek, stroking a thumb along my bottom lip. With odd warmth in his stormy blue eyes, he says, "Thank you."

 

{Continued)