kinkfest | Final Fantasy VIII (Seifer Almasy/Squall Leonhart) (Reply)

Title: Get Up
Author: Lucifer Hisaki (

luciferhisaki)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 780
Summary: Standing over him, Squall panted heavily...
Notes: Set after the last boss fight of Disc Three

Get Up

Standing over him, Squall panted heavily, wondering why he felt so hurt right now. Before him on the ground was his rival, Almasy—Seifer—the Sorceress’s Knight, defeated. He shouldn’t be feeling the way he was now. They were one step closer to saving the world from Ultimecia but now? Now all he could think about was how many times he imagined his rival in front of him like this, on the ground, conquered. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head slightly and glanced back at his companions.

It wasn’t a fair fight. He had two allies with him whereas Almasy was by himself. He cheated.

Maybe that was why he toed the blond’s body with his foot, “Get up. Is this how you fall?”

The brunet raked a hand through his sweat drenched hair. He refused to take a Curaga from Trepe to heal his wounds. It wouldn’t be right if he was healed when the blond before him was dying. Squall never wanted Seifer’s death. Despite everything. It didn’t matter that they fucked, they fought. They made love on insane nights.

Squall couldn’t let himself become better than this man before him. This disillusioned man on the floor, bleeding to his death. Unconscious. Unseeing. Unhearing.

It wasn’t right.

He glanced behind him at his companions, noticing Kinneas was breathing heavily with exhaustion, Dincht helping Tilmitt standing, blood still oozing from each of his fellow SeeDs’ (Kinneas excluded. He’s not SeeD but Squall knew that by the end of this he would be) wounds. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Squall glared tiredly at the form on the ground, “Get up. You’re stronger than this. Are you really that weak?”

Taunting Almasy was a sure way to make the blond react. But not this time. Squall growled lowly as he toed his rival even more. Just because he was the enemy didn’t mean that Squall wanted to kill him for good. There was nothing about this that warranted that, he was still Almasy and Squall wanted him to stand.

Maybe it was because he wanted to fight this man more. Maybe it was because he knew that if Almasy fell here, there was nothing left for him to fight. Nothing left to lose to. Nothing left to enjoy. To live. He snarled deeply in his throat, reaching down to grab the back of the tattered trenchcoat in his hand. The brunet heaved the blond up, staring into the still face of his rival—his bloody soul—and screamed.

“Get up!”

Into the other’s face, at his empty, hurt façade. Squall screamed loud and long, before tossing the blond back onto the floor.

He wanted to see those green eyes, see them angry and furious with vengeance. Nothing mattered but that look in Almasy’s eyes and he wanted nothing more than to know that Almasy was willing for a rematch. Fighting. It defined them. It was more than something needed for survival. It was a test of wits, of pride, of strength.

Nothing mattered but the feel of steel against steel and the look in each other’s eyes. Squall wanted to feel the heat against his face, the anger and the amusement of bloodlust as they slashed their clothes to pieces, tore their flesh open until the blood flowed crimson and dried black like their hearts. SeeD, mercenaries. Fighters, death seekers. He wanted to fight like they were fucking. Like they were making love to each other. Having sex, tearing into each other’s beings and replacing what was lost with what they had gained. Sweat and blood and pride.

Squall needed Almasy to stand up and face him. A fair fight. That’s what he wanted.

When Almasy did get up, Squall stared fearfully, torn with realization, the man—his soul—he sought after for living gave up his entire individuality to a Sorceress bent on destroying everything they were—SeeD, they lived and breathed it—including ruling the world. Squall bit his tongue as he watched Almasy disappear with Heartilly, watched as the girl was thrown at Adel.

Whatever connection between them was left in tatters like their clothes. Whatever hate—love—between them was dark as night. The reality cracked like the obsession forgotten. Squall started to remember why he had to fight for something else besides that Almasy, besides the reason for his living thus far.

The world needed him more than Almasy and Squall cried. He cried inside where no one could see.

Once again he was abandoned by the one person he thought would never leave.

A love let loose and painted black.

“…Seifer. You idiot. I was supposed to save you. Not kill you.”

End

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