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It was a very cold evening. The sea air of Balamb always felt particularly bitter in the winter months, the wind bringing with it the cold tang of salt from across the water, but it was a familiar cold. The sting of Shiva’s bite on his cheeks despite her presence in his junction slots. In some ways, it felt like coming home.
Squall had been working late when he’d had a message from Selphie pop up on his desk terminal to remind him about her Yule party that night. He’d been so engrossed in his task that he’d not even noticed the light shift in the office as the sun sank below the horizon, leaving behind it a soft velvet darkness that years of living in Balamb had taught him meant there would be snow on the ground before morning. Still, he’d wrapped himself up in the appropriate clothing for the party where the theme was “ugly seasonal attire” and had made his way down to Balamb town.
He stood outside the hotel, enjoying a last moment of peace before the celebrations. The harbour down the hill was lit with strings of warm yellow lights that reflected in the water, already busy with the high tide and the boats leaving for the night’s fishing. It was just like a thousand nights and more before it, the ink black sea lapping against the harbour walls and the distant rumble of the boats engines. The quiet peace of a night in a sleepy fishing town.
The last of the boats glided gently out of the safe walls of the harbour and into the endless darkness of the open sea on a moonless night, and Squall turned to enter the door.
He was not surprised to find the reception area of the hotel decorated once again to within an inch of its life. Large trees almost smothered with lights stood sentinel at either side of the waiting desk in place of the usual floral planters. The bannister of the stairs that led up to the hotel rooms was wrapped in a bright red ribbon edged in gold and more swags of greenery with berries stretched up the wall running roughly parallel to the stairs. The light overhead was tuned to a much warmer yellow-gold that felt more in keeping with the season, somehow. He could already hear the music coming from the party room through the closed door. Selphie had chosen the hotel as a venue for her now annual Yule party for a few years in a row. A party which was really more an excuse to get drunk, eat too much and for most people, dance. He reserved such exercise for the people he knew best, so he didn’t think he’d be doing too much of it.
Laguna had assured him after the previous year's event, that getting drunk and eating too much bad food was fairly standard for Yule parties in his experience. Especially the former. There was a third thing about photocopiers and broom closets but Squall had decided not remembering that was probably a better option. Especially given that Laguna’s time working in offices had only really commenced after he’d been made the de facto president.
Squall had deliberately timed his visit with that advice in mind. He wanted to be there in the earlier part of the party so he could get away with leaving early to go and sleep it off in his hotel room if he needed to. As much as Selphie and the others enjoyed the annual escape from the day to day grind by blowing off steam, he always felt like he had to hold the event at arms length as their Commander. And now with Rinoa gone, he had even more reason to feel awkward and alone in the big function room of the hotel and even less reason to stick around if he got tired of the whole thing. And Selphie would be sober enough to remember he'd actually been there when he turned up early, which was a bonus.
He nodded to the young lady at reception, dressed in typically festive garb for the evening, green and red and gold like everything around her as he picked up his waiting key. Her face was familiar - Garden often had clients who'd stay in town while going through negotiations, so Garden had an ongoing contract with the business. Not to mention, this was their third year of Yule parties and given the volume of people and alcohol that would be at the party, it was fairly lucrative for them as well.
Selphie's party room was, as always, a dazzling array of colour, light and sound. He'd entered at an opportune moment when a slow dance was playing and the array of partygoers were either taking a moment to rest and refill their drinks, or already swaying on the dancefloor in pairs. The ballroom was old but well used, and it made a good enough party venue for them. The stage was on the far wall with a DJ nodding along to the slow but fairly festive music. A large square before the stage had been given a wooden floor for dancing. and the outskirts of the room held tables, chairs, a carpet that always felt somehow creepily spongy under Squall's feet. A buffet table filled with suitable party food ran along one wall, and doors on the other side, covered with thick heavy curtains, led out to the balcony.
She had learnt from the first event that having no food around when they were drinking that much at the party was not a very good idea. Having food around would at least make the evening last longer.
Each corner of the room sported gaudily dressed trees, ablaze with strings of lights and highly reflective tinsel in more colours than Squall had known existed, one of them sitting next to the ornate wooden bar that would be staffed by the hotel through the night. The overhead lights were suitably dimmed for the event which only served to make the trees feel all that brighter, glittering between a rainbow of hues slowly.
Selphie spotted him from the dancefloor, ducking out of Irvine’s embrace to rush over, throwing her arms around his neck for a hug. Squall staggered a step as he caught her, hugging back as he set her back on her feet. She was wearing a sweater dress which made her look like a tree, all deep green with odd wool loops and a string of fake baubles that actually lit up. “You made it,” she grinned at him brightly, then looked down at his chest. “And you wore it!”
She’d picked him out something that he’d actually thought was reasonably tasteful at least on the scale of the examples he’d seen before, and given it was the party’s theme he’d not really had a reason not to. His sweater was blue, with the stitches picking out a traditional style of Trabian pattern in a contrasting white. If you didn’t look too closely, you wouldn’t notice that the pattern mostly consisted of silhouettes of alcohol glasses.
“I know better than to disappoint you, Selphie,” Squall reassured her. “You know where I sleep.”
She gave him a feral grin. All mischief and, not for the first time, Squall was glad he was on her side. “Save a dance for me, Squall? No one to huff and puff over it all this year.”
“Sure,” he smiled. She was one of maybe half a dozen people who’d be in the room that night that he wouldn’t mind touching him long enough to dance. And he knew he was surprisingly good at it, enough that Selphie had asked at every one of her parties since. “I’ll even buy you a drink.”
“Only one? Damn, you’re being a little stingy this year, Squall.”
“I’d hate for anyone to think I was playing favourites,” Squall rolled his eyes. “Or having an affair.”
Selphie shook her head and sighed. Rinoa had not been pleased by the previous Yule party and either too much alcohol or not enough trust had kicked off an argument of explosive proportions. She’d left him that night and Balamb the next morning. She was still his Sorceress and so he knew vaguely where she was, but they’d not spoken other than to arrange sending her belongings on since. And by the end, Squall hadn’t really cared all that much. “I still don’t know why that all happened, but her loss. Are you gonna be okay tonight?”
“I promise I won’t spend the entire evening propping up a wall, or lurking at one of the tables” Squall said soothingly. “Go on back to dancing, I want to get a drink.”
“Okay. I’ll catch you in a little while,” Selphie lifted herself on her toes to throw her arms around his neck for another hug. He held her against him, her arms tight around him. All of his friends were huggers to various degrees, and Selphie was the worst of them for it. The party nights were the few nights of the year where he’d let her get away with it in public. Squall let her go, she dropped back onto her heels and turned to jog back to the dance floor, just as a new song began to play.
The beat of the music had already picked up after the slow dance and was enticing people to get up and move. Squall headed for the bar while there was a chance.
The young man behind the bar alone was tall and skinny, all dark eyes and a faintly worried look. Squall didn’t recognise him and though he didn’t always put much stock in that since he knew his memory could be spotty for the obvious reasons, in this case he believed his recollection. For one, the guy looked barely old enough to be able to serve behind the bar. Even if that made him only four years younger than Squall himself was.
For another, when Squall ordered a whiskey by brand and age, he still had to point out the bottle to the kid.
He walked away with his chosen drink and found himself a seat on an unused table to unwind a little. Squall took a sip, letting the warmth of the whiskey and the sweet honey notes fill him up. Suddenly the day felt very long, but also very far away. A distant memory, a long forgotten echo.
“Hey.”
Squall looked up from his drink. Another long forgotten echo, Seifer Almasy was standing over him, tall and lean and just as handsome as ever, despite the fact he was wearing a gaudy jumper in an obnoxiously bright red with several depicted spherical and colourful tree decorations and the caption “jingle my balls.” Squall had looked him over - sizing him up in case, he told himself - but the blatantly sexual phrasing made his brain stumble for a moment.
Seifer rested a hand over the detail on the front as though his hand could hide the image that covered almost the entire front of his torso, looking faintly sheepish, his cheeks doing their best to echo the colour of the wool that made up his jumper. “Selphie made me wear it, okay?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to, the look was enough,” Seifer shook his head and cleared his throat. “Anyway… If you want me to clear out, I will. You’ve got more right to be here than I have.”
Seifer had returned to Balamb after the war, ready to face the consequences of his actions. Some people had been surprised, but Squall hadn't. Seifer Almasy wasn't a coward and, sadly, he didn't have much choice otherwise. All he knew was Balamb Garden. While he himself hadn't made any effort to help Seifer find a spot particularly in the town, he had at least quieted any protests and lied just enough to get the worst of the other threats pared back outside of it. He'd also kept his distance from Seifer for the almost three years since they'd returned from defeating Ultimecia. They'd passed each other here and there, given each other nods of recognition but hadn't really spoken to each other since the close of the war.
He wasn't a coward either, but the two of them did have a tendency to spark whenever they'd spent time around each other before, and given the changes to them over the course of the war, that kind of duel would more than likely lead to property damage at the very least. Squall had thought it best not to take the risk just yet. Besides all that, at first Rinoa had made him keep his distance ostensibly for his own safety. Now she was gone, and he was already nursing his first drink of the night, and he was unarmed. "You got your hyperjunction?"
Seifer patted his hips, and Squall followed the motion as an excuse to look. While he’d hardly call the festive sweater flattering, it did fit him fairly closely and Seifer was still fit and attractive. "Nope. Not dumb enough to have Hyperion when I'm partying. Might leave her somewhere stupid. You don't have Lionheart either."
Squall lifted his gaze back to Seifer's face, the tiniest of smiles playing at his lips. "Oh, you looked?"
"Well," the redness returned to Seifer's cheeks again. Squall liked that, the little embarrassment that he was able to inflict on Seifer. It’d been so long since he’d actually spoken to Seifer that he’d forgotten some of the things that had once haunted his dreams and his nightmares. His voice was still enough to make Squall shiver, but he liked it better when it wasn’t growling alarming sorceress crap. "I wanted to make sure you wouldn't take my head off when I came over here. I need it to stay where it is for at least some stuff."
“I can behave for one night if you can?”
“Well I’ll behave about this specific thing. The rest of it…” Seifer lifted his own drink with a half grin and a rattle of ice cubes. “We’ll see.”
Seifer gave him a little nod and retreated before melting into the sea of faces again. After so long not being near each other, and bracing himself for far more, Squall was feeling… odd. There’d always been something about Seifer that was magical and half the time plain wrong. As a teenager he’d not wanted to think about it too closely but getting older and hopefully wiser, Squall admitted to himself the obvious. Seifer was sexy.
That or being single for a year after Rinoa had left him was getting to him a lot more than he thought it was.
He was saved from thinking too much about it by Quistis taking the seat next to him. She already had a glass of wine and given that he hadn’t seen her come in, he presumed that she’d been somewhere else in the room and he just hadn’t noticed her in the light. “Was that Seifer?”
“Yes.”
She eyed him over her glasses, her long golden hair framing her face perfectly. Out of all of his friends, she’d been the one to see Seifer and him together, she’d been the one to collect him that morning of the duel that had scarred both of their faces after all. “Should I be concerned?”
“No,” Squall shook his head, choosing his words carefully. “I think he just wanted to make sure we could keep the peace for tonight. Just co-exist.”
“Good. Because Selphie’ll kill you both if you ruin her party.”
Squall chuckled into his glass, humming in agreement. Selphie probably would. “What about last year? I lived.”
“She said that was a necessary evil,” Quistis smiled at him. “Or getting rid of one.”
Squall did find himself agreeing with that. Sometimes more than others. He wasn’t always bitter, but something about the memories and the events of the previous party was playing on his mind. He half expected her to reappear as if by magic in order to ruin the party for him again. One drunken argument, one night of stupid had cast an odd shadow over the events a whole year on and it didn’t feel right thinking about her, so he turned his attention to Quistis again.
They made small talk as they both finished their first drinks of the evening and it was Quistis who suggested that they dance. It was Quistis he’d been dancing with a year before that had spurred on the explosive argument that had been brewing the whole evening. She suggested an early dance to help him take his mind off things. He’d agreed and they’d left the table to dance.
He’d enjoyed it. While he definitely felt as though people were watching, it wasn’t a pair of brown, jealous eyes that would lead to an argument, so the atmosphere already felt a thousand times better.
When the song was over, Quistis brushed her lips over his cheek. It was just a light little gesture, spurred on by Alcohol and everything else about the Yule party. He smiled and gave her a little shadow of a bow, all the things they'd been taught at Garden over the years in order to maintain face in public events. Things they'd been shown without ever really understanding the meaning behind it when they were done properly. As soon as he'd let her hand go, Zell had stepped in to take her immediately back out onto the dance floor and Squall had watched them a moment - her gentle grace and his physical strength making for quite a show as always - before he'd turned to head back to his seat.
When he did turn there was suddenly someone right there, someone who smelt like sandalwood and salt and rum and coke. Someone he accidentally bumped into enough to have their drink half slosh over the side of the glass and send a few ice cubes scattering on the hard wooden floor.
Unsure of his footing for a moment, Squall found himself grabbing at the stranger to steady himself as well as them as they did the same to him and then he looked up into Seifer Almasy's very green eyes.
He was very glad he had support.
"Shit," Seifer breathed, staring right back at him for a moment before he laughed awkwardly. "Sorry, squi.... Squall."
"My fault," Squall smiled. Then he remembered the accident and the results of it. "Fuck, let me kick those ice cubes off the dance floor before someone breaks an ankle. Or worse"
Seifer nodded, shifting his weight and trying not to spill any more of his beverage. "Hey.... what are you drinking? I need a refill already so might as well get you one too."
"Havenhall, the fifteen year old. On the rocks," Squall let go of Seifer carefully. "Meet you at my table again?"
Seifer nodded and turned back towards the bar. Squall took a moment to retrieve the wayward ice cubes and scan the floor to make sure he'd not missed anything before heading back to his table, dropping the ice in an empty discarded glass on the way.
The advantage to being the Commander was that once he'd chosen a table, no one really dared sit there aside from his closest friends until after he'd left. Even if they weren't all SeeD or Garden staff directly at the party - because he knew Selphie cast the invites pretty far and wide since this was officially her party, and not sponsored or sanctioned by garden for safety - they knew to keep their distance. Not that he’d probably do anything to them if they were sitting at his table. He hoped it meant something like respect from his own people at least.
Seifer returned in a few minutes and set the glasses on the table before he slumped in the same chair Quistis had used next to him. A little flushed, a little dizzy, Squall thought, as he leant back in the chair and rolled his glass in one hand. He suspected Seifer had gotten there even earlier than he had and was a little drunk already. “The most words you’ve said to me in four years, and probably longer, are to tell me what you want to drink.”
“Well. You were avoiding me,” Squall shrugged, stroking his thumb over the side of his glass restlessly. He’d spent years sitting beside Seifer and this was oddly starting to feel a little nostalgic. “I finally start to talk and you don’t come near me in four years. I can’t talk to you if you're on the other side of the harbour.”
Seifer stared at him, his surprise obvious on his face. “Is that the drink talking or did you really learn how to talk?”
“I have to give speeches and shit now, so mostly the latter,” Squall huffed. After nearly four years in the commander role at Balamb Garden, with all the negotiations and meetings and other bureaucracy involved in the role, he’d learned a lot about both public and private speaking and it had given him a little more confidence in his personal life. Admittedly Rinoa leaving had helped with that too, as he no longer had to concern himself with keeping her happy or worry about what she might say when they were back in a private space.
Seifer grinned at him. Squall couldn’t really remember Seifer grinning much, it made him look younger than he was, and it was infectious enough that Squall found himself smiling too. “‘Bout damn time.”
“You did all the talking for us, I didn’t think I had much to add.”
“I had to do the talking for us, you barely even acknowledged you were in class out loud.”
Squall scoffed. “I wasn’t that bad.”
Seifer shook his head. “I remember counting how many words you said in one day when I was around and I didn’t need any extra fingers to do it, Squall. It was only eight or so.”
Squall felt himself smiling at the comment. He was a long way from the quiet kid who tried to put a brave face on it but had been so petrified of the world. He didn’t feel so lonely or lost any more. “You’re still you, Seifer.”
“Gotta be me, no one else would take the job,” he huffed, feigning being offended. “Lazy assholes.”
“Too risky on the duels to employ someone as a backup Seifer anyway. Haven’t even had a duel since you left,” Squall joked then paused. No, he hadn’t. And until that moment he hadn’t even realised he’d missed it. Even if they’d been stupid and it was definitely something he’d suspend students over now, they’d been such a huge part of his life that had died all of a sudden. So fast he hadn’t even thought to mourn it until that moment.
“You couldn’t find someone willing to try and kick your ass, Squall?” Seifer had always grown more animated when it came to anything to do with their chosen weapon and fighting style. “There were a couple ‘bladers like… two years below us, weren’t there?”
“One relocated to Galbadia to join the army so he’s probably swinging machine guns or something now,” Squall leant his elbow on the table and his chin on his hand huffily. He remained the only gunblade specialist in SeeD - that had its advantages too, it was an impressive weapon after all. Plenty of the customers he’d worked with since taking on his role had been awed at seeing him wearing his blade rather than hiding it in a hyper-junction. “Other’s moved sideways into combat magic and doesn’t use the blade much at all now. Besides, they weren’t you.”
Seifer cupped his glass in both hands, staring down at it. He licked his lips and chose his words very carefully, Squall could already tell the next question would be important to Seifer. “Would you want to do that again? Duel with me? I mean…. Could you even trust me?”
”I didn’t really trust you back then either so it wouldn’t be all that different.”
Seifer’s gaze snapped up at him and he opened his mouth to respond but stopped himself. He blinked owlishly at Squall and stammered for a moment. “...I-is that a joke?”
“Yes,” Squall smiled again, taking the smallest of sips from his drink. “Besides, I’d just kick your ass again.”
Seifer’s lips turned up in an almost feral grin. The excitement he felt was palpable, rolling off him in waves. Although Squall had only noticed in that moment how much he’d missed the duels, he felt it too. There was nothing like the way the adrenaline would sing in his veins whenever they fought one on one. It was like the war had never happened, like he was just a kid again, looking forward to his next fight. “What makes you so sure, Commander? I’m not the one stuck behind a desk all the time.”
“I’m not stuck there all the time, I get weekends and evenings off” Squall pouted. He didn’t get into the field as often as he would have liked. Too much paperwork, too many stuffed shirts to impress. Too much danger as well, as much as he was a damn good SeeD, there were definitely those out in the world who would have made a big deal of killing him if they could. “Though I’ll agree I spent far too much time there.”
“I hear that from Selphie and Quistis. They worry about you.”
“They just talk to you about me unprompted?"
"Well... not unprompted. I ask. Sometimes," Seifer said, trying to cover his embarrassment by taking another swig. Tipping his head back as he finished the drink quickly and set the glass down again, the chime of ice cubes settling in the glass ringing loud enough for Squall to hear over the music. Despite the dimmer light now the party was in full swing that Seifer's cheeks were flushed almost as red as the sweater he was wearing. Seifer pushed his chair back from the table, scooting himself forward on it, hands on his thighs as he readied himself to stand up again. "Well... that's another one down. I'll give you some peace and... well... as much quiet as you're going to get in here tonight.
"Take it easy, Seifer. I don't know where you live to carry you home."
Seifer grinned at him. "You'd do that for me?"
Squall gave him a little shrug and a soft smile. "If I had to."
"Better junction for strength boosts then," Seifer joked and stood up, giving Squall the shoulder pats that he'd only ever gotten from drunken male friends. "If you're going to deal with all that dead weight."
"That'd better be a joke about being unconscious and not yourself," Squall said sternly.
Seifer just laughed and headed back into the crowd again.
The next time Squall encountered Seifer was out on the balcony of the ballroom. Even though he had Shiva junctioned to help, he'd noticed how stuffy and hot the ballroom was becoming with so many people inside it. Of course, the added layer of discomfort from everyone wearing their festive gear was making it feel closer to a sauna than a dance floor.
He'd stepped outside to at least catch his breath for a few minutes, just as the first few snowflakes began to flutter down from the deep dark skies overhead. It was gentle and slow at first, little flakes that caught on his eyelashes and melted on his skin. Despite the music thumping and muffled through the glass of the balcony doors, he could find some measure of peace just from that moment. Shiva in the back of his head was content, safe in her junction as her gifts danced on the air.
Squall had just leant on the railing to look down at the harbour again, the yellow lights dancing harder in the sudden change of wind that whipped the snowflakes into little dancing flurries - the balcony was on the side of the building that faced more of the the open ocean rather than the harbour itself but it was also close enough to the edge to be able to at least see part of it - when he heard the door open behind him.
That same deep, familiar voice. Seifer Almasy. "I can't believe how warm it is in there," Seifer huffed, slipping out of the large glass doors to just breathe the cold night air in. Just like Squall had. He closed his eyes and breathed in the night air as Squall watched over his shoulder. The light of the party through the windows and the odd nearby house with a bright lamp in the window to light the fishermen home was all the light they had. The stars and moon were covered in a thick blanket of soft velvet snow clouds.
"Well, you're wearing a couple of layers - not to mention you always ran hot. Take one of the under layers off and you’ll feel better when you’re back inside."
Seifer looked him over, no surprise obvious on his face this time. He'd known Squall was out on the balcony and alone. Seifer had followed him for something. Squall was glad of that, really. He felt oddly safe around his former rival, in spite of himself. And he was enjoying the chance to explore how he felt about the tall, handsome blond while at the advantage of being at least slightly more sober than Seifer was. "Are you admitting you think I'm hot, Squall?"
"I'm not confessing to anything 'til I know more about you asking the girls about me," Squall shrugged. He knew that Selphie, Quistis and Irvine had kept in touch with Seifer since his return to Balamb. Zell was aware of him but kept his distance, just as Rinoa had before she’d left.
"Well... I asked because you're still the only other gunblader worth his salt around here,” Seifer rubbed the back of his neck, already looking embarrassed at getting caught out so easily. “And because you're you. I was worried you'd hurt yourself in a job like that."
"Hurt myself?" Squall asked, one eyebrow arched in curiosity.
"Like... working too hard or not taking care of yourself,” Seifer shrugged. It hadn’t been the first time Squall had heard something like that from the others before, so he wasn’t surprised it had reached Seifer’s ears if they were the ones sharing details. Still he was doing far better than he had in the initial months after the war. Trying to recover from the exhaustion while also keeping the school and SeeD stable had been a mammoth task and it’d taken him the first couple of years just to feel like he was keeping his head above water. “At least when Rin was around I could guess you'd be eating okay and living on stuff besides coffee and whiskey not that much younger than yourself."
Squall turned his back to the railing, folding his arms over his chest and tipping his head to watch Seifer. “We’ve not spoken a word in four years and you still give a shit?”
“Maybe it’s guilt,” Seifer shrugged. “Maybe it’s the memory of how your ass looked in the leather pants. Maybe it’s that Garden put you in charge when you couldn’t even drink legally and that’s really kinda fucked up?”
Squall agreed with Seifer on the inside. He wouldn’t have wished his experiences on anyone, not even his worst enemy. He shook his head with a smile. “You’re very easy to interrogate,”
“Yes, this is because I am drunk,” Seifer leant on the railing next to him, almost too close. Close enough that Seifer’s gentle swaying against the balcony let their arms brush together a few times. Seifer had noticed too and he glanced at their arms before meeting Squall’s gaze again silently.
“Good to know for future reference. But you should know I don’t fit in those leather pants any more.”
“No?” Seifer asked, sounding disappointed.
“No. Had to get new ones. The old ones were too short. And getting a little too tight to fight in, really.”
“You got taller?” Seifer asked incredulously. He straightened and nudged Squall until he stood too.
“Mmhm,” Squall smiled. He was pretty sure Seifer had too, but the gap that had once stood at around four inches difference in height was closer now. Not to mention, he wasn’t his seventeen year old self anymore. The muscle he’d put on in the years since the war had left him a little sturdier than he had been before.
“Damn, you nearly managed to catch me up?” Seifer got close enough to almost let their noses touch, checking out the validity of Squall’s words. He almost looked offended that Squall had managed to get taller while he hadn’t been looking. “Well… You can wear the new ones when we run out of what little self restraint we’ve got left and decide to go duel somewhere. Preferably somewhere unpopulated. Where property damage won’t be a thing either, probably.”
“Tonight?” Squall joked. “Or do I have to wait ‘til we sober up?”
“We are not doing that drunk.”
“What would you do drunk?” Squall asked. Seifer was still close enough to be checking their height and he had to rest a hand on Squall’s shoulder to steady himself.
“Apparently talk to you way too much on a balcony in the freezing fucking cold. Why are we out here, Squall? It’s snowing for Hyne’s sake.”
Squall chuckled and shook his head, “You got too hot and needed to cool off. After I came out here. I’m beginning to think you’re following me.”
“No baby. That’d be your now long departed ex,” Seifer smirked and nodded in the general direction of Timber, finally putting a scant few more inches between them. At least trying to look like he was being cool about it. “She move back home?”
“Mm. Last Yule. Who told you?”
“Selphie. Along with dramatic reenactments of flouncing out of the party,” Seifer grinned and mimicked what Squall could only assume was a flounce while standing in place. It seemed to involve a lot of hip movements and Squall had to hide his mouth to stop himself from laughing. “That’s the whole reason she invited me this year… she figured without Rin, it’d be less…theatrical.”
“You making up for the lack of theatrics?”
“Not yet but let me get another couple of drinks in me.”
“Make sure you eat something too, you don’t want to be flat on your back before the night’s over.”
“If I do end up flat on my back, I’ll have earned it, I promise,” he grinned. He was looking more lively now, more himself. Squall was enjoying the little show he was getting to experience one on one. “Let’s go back in before Selphie fetches us. She learnt the ear pull from Ma Dincht and it’s hyne-damned lethal.”
Squall shook his head a little. The chill of the night air was so much sharper now, so it was probably for the best that they went in, that was true. Seifer especially, as not only was he drunk but he was also unjunctioned as far as Squall could tell from their brief interactions, and without the elemental protection of a guardian force, he would naturally feel it far more than Squall would.
Seifer had headed off to talk to someone else as soon as they’d come back into the ballroom, and Zell had waved from the table to get Squall's attention. When Squall made it back to the table, he noted that Zell was in the middle of eating, and there was a plate waiting for him as well. Not to mention another drink. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be as far gone as Seifer was.
Zell had even given him a stern look and a lopsided grin on his approach. "Selphie said you hadn't eaten yet, which reminded me I hadn't either, so I got us both a plate."
"How'd she watch me enough to even check on that?" Squall wondered in amazement, glancing over at her. She was still dancing, and Squall was fairly sure she hadn’t taken more than a brief break to greet him since he’d arrived. "Has she even left the dance floor for more than two minutes tonight?"
"Well she was just here like ten minutes ago, but you were talking with Seifer out on the balcony and she didn't want to disturb you guys getting on and all that. She thought it was good for you both," Zell said in his most noncommittal tone of voice. Squall suspected that he disagreed.
"Ahh," Squall said, picking up one of the sandwiches Zell had selected for him. It was basic and filling, the kind of stuff that the hotel did just to keep them from getting entirely wrecked. Granted not everyone took advantage of it, but most of the SeeDs and staff from Garden would, if only to help them last longer into the night. Whoever faded first or got too drunk would be teased for at least a few months. In some cases, even until the next party offered up a new target.
"As for the watching.... I find it best not to ask. She has her ways. She also said you still owe her a dance so you're gonna need the energy."
"There is not nearly enough sugar and caffeine here to fuel that.”
"There's not enough sugar and caffeine in the building, but you'll manage it." Zell grinned at him, then gestured at the balcony door. "Everything okay with him?"
"He's apparently worried about me."
Zell's eyebrows shot up so high they almost disappeared into his hairline. He opened his mouth a few times before finally grinding out a few words. "....Well that's... weird."
"Yeah. Very,” Squall agreed thoughtfully. “But good weird."
"If you say so baby, I thought it was just weird weird."
Selphie was light enough that even unjunctioned Squall was pretty sure he could hold her up with just one arm. Even a few years before he'd never have let himself go enough to dance with anyone but Rinoa, but as time had passed and he'd grown older, he'd learned a few salient points. First, if anyone cared to watch, they were either doing it to be assholes or to enjoy it. Second, he didn't give a fuck what the assholes said behind his back and they were far too afraid to say it to his face. Third, after all the duels with Seifer, all the training on timing and everything else he'd learnt along the way, he was actually pretty good at dancing. Light on his feet and not afraid to use his strength to his advantage when it came to lifting Selphie, or even throwing her when the dance floor wasn't quite so crowded.
He actually enjoyed having those moments with his friends. Using his trained body and his skills in a new, different way felt fulfilling in a way he hadn’t really recognised until the last year or so. Still, even if he enjoyed it, he reserved it for his friends alone.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust others. He just didn’t like to give anyone else that brief intimacy. So when someone he recognised from Galbadia Garden - one of the older SeeDs who hadn’t been involved in the war thanks to field placements, a tall, and reasonably handsome guy - cornered him as soon as he’d stepped off the dance floor to talk he’d been more than a little cautious. He vaguely remembered the guy from when he’d temporarily transferred to Balamb years before to go through his exams and there was something that made Squall feel vaguely uncomfortable around him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, and if the stranger hadn’t been SeeD, Squall knew he wouldn’t have even given him the time of day.
However, he was SeeD and Squall had felt that at least deserved a modicum of respect. And just when the guy was starting to touch his arm and maybe try to steer him back onto the dance floor, someone else slid an arm around his shoulders. Someone who smelt like sandalwood, salt and rum, and maybe other booze along with it now.
“Hey, Squall. You still remember how to dance backwards?” Seifer grinned at him.
“I think I do,” Squall tangled his fingers with Seifer’s where they rested in front of him, squeezing Seifer’s hand in a silent thanks. He offered a brief but cold smile to the SeeD he’d been speaking to. “It was good to see you again. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
Seifer was the one who steered him back onto the dance floor, arm around him but not tight enough to force him. That did make quite a few SeeDs and staff already on their feet double take - of course they knew who Seifer was, and he was sure he’d get more than a few queries during the next staff meetings or mission briefings. Squall felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment but he kept his head held high. He was very much not the damsel in distress that needed to be rescued by a knight, and he promised himself he’d tell Seifer that as soon as he could forget the weird feeling he’d had about the SeeD.
The next song was something a little more muted, enough for Seifer to get an arm around him and pull him close. Enough for Squall to just be able to hear him against his ear over the music. “That guy’s a creep.”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Squall protested softly. “I mean, Selphie must have invited him, right?”
“She wouldn’t know this but I’m pretty sure he was the one who used to stare at you like a creep when he was in Balamb Garden for the SeeD exam stuff.”
A cold feeling ran through Squall’s body. Now Seifer had mentioned it, that sounded weirdly familiar and worryingly close. Yeah. Maybe he did remember something about that from all those years before. Even with the damage from the guardian forces, it was just enough of a nudge to bring back a few old worries. “Seifer, that would have been when I was… twelve or something?”
“Yeah, that’s why I said he’s a creep.”
“Oh. Okay, point.”
“You’ve got to be careful who you dance with, Squall,” Seifer joked, lightening the mood or at least attempting to. “All these weird strangers. Who knows what they’re thinking about doing.”
Squall lifted his head enough to watch Seifer. He’d seen so many sides of the man who was holding him over the years. The bully, the asshole, the rival were all the obvious ones that came to mind, but the memory of the so called creep had reminded him that sometimes Seifer had protected him too. He remembered Seifer not leaving him alone the entire time the guy had been around the first time, and now history was simply repeating itself. They were just older, taller and had other ways to protect themselves. Seifer could have caused a scene but he’d de-escalated the situation, even though he was drunk and before Squall had even identified the weird feeling he’d been getting. That was actually kind of admirable. “You including yourself in that, stranger?”
“Yup. You never know what evil things I might try.”
Squall rested his hand over Seifer’s on the small of his back. “Well I’d like to hear what you’re thinking about doing,” he said and pushed the hand lower enough to rest on his ass. “But let’s make sure if he’s watching, we really put him off. And anyone else who gets ideas.”
Seifer stared at him without breaking step. “...Good plan, I should have thought of that. You just keep holding me up while I work through some stuff, okay?”
“I thought you were holding me up?”
“One of us must be right, and I’m too scared to stop dancing to find out,” Seifer grumbled. Squall laughed and only then did Seifer falter for a step. It was nearly enough to have Squall stumble but Seifer caught him, holding him up again. “...you even laugh now. Damn, I missed a lot… I like that sound.”
“Oh I’ve always laughed at you.”
“With, asshole, with.”
“Close enough,” Squall shrugged. It wasn’t quite like the dances they’d practiced in school. For one, Seifer’s hand was definitely far lower than it had ever been while they’d been in school, and Squall was holding Seifer a lot closer than he ever had in one of their lessons. Seifer still smelt like sandalwood and salt and rum, but with his head starting to spin from the heat and the music and the alcohol, Squall just wanted to hide his face against Seifer’s throat and breathe him in. To let himself get lost in the moment.
The first song ended and an even slower one followed on its heels. Squall heard the people around them shuffle, some leaving the dance floor only to be replaced by the couples. Still, Seifer didn’t stop and neither did Squall.
“Is this weird for you?” Seifer asked, just barely audible over the music and his lips almost brushing Squalls ear. Close enough to feel the heat of Seifer’s breath.
“A little bit. I like this kind of weird though,” he replied. He’d had a lot of weird in his life. Some of it bad, some of it good, but all of it was paling in comparison to the moment that he was living in. Seifer felt good in his arms. He liked feeling the warmth and the comfort of that scent and the strength against him. He’d danced with men before, Irvine and Zell both, but Seifer was somehow different. He’d spent so much time learning Seifer’s tells, Seifer’s movements, that feeling them instead of observing them was almost dizzying.
“So long as it’s not just me… I mean, the letting me touch you bit is weird. Especially where my hand is right now.”
“Okay, I get it feels weird, but do you like it?”
Seifer gazed at him. His eyes were so very green, jade green, with that old scar barely visible and cutting down in between them. His hair was longer than it had been at Garden years before, and he’d still half slicked it back to control it. The heat of the room and whatever else he’d been up to that night had made it start to fight the gel, letting some of it spill messily around his far too green eyes. “...yeah, I think I do.”
“Then just enjoy it,” Squall gave him a little shrug, and a soft smile. It was just one night. Just a couple of dances and a few too many drinks. “It only has to last as long as this dance, right?”
Seifer gazed at him, his expression almost wistful. “Right.”
The music played and Squall closed his eyes. He wanted to remember how this felt - Seifer touching him, Seifer swaying with him to the soft, slow music. A thousand if onlys and maybes vying in the back of his head for prominence were silenced by the way Seifer tipped his head and his cheek rested so lightly against Squall’s hair he almost thought he’d imagined it.
Then the music stopped and the DJ prattled on about kicking the party up a gear over the increasingly loud beat of the next song to come up, breaking the spell completely. Seifer sighed and let him go slowly. “Okay, I think the creep’s moved on to someone else. I need to hit the bathroom and I think you need to catch up with Irv. He’s staring daggers at us.”
Squall glanced around until he spotted Irvine watching. Not at the table with Zell, his girlfriend Lian, Quistis, and Xu, instead standing just a little off the dance floor with a beer in hand.
“Guess so. Thanks, Seifer.”
“Yeah… well I figured I owed you one,” Seifer grinned, and backed up a couple of steps until his heel caught the carpet and he turned to head for the door. Squall went his own way through the jungle of bodies and flailing limbs to meet Irvine
Irvine caught Squall’s hand with his free one and pulled him closer gently. As soon as Squall was at his side, Irvine slung an arm around his shoulders in an easy hug. They were all careful to keep touching him, as though it’d keep him from clamming up like he once had. “You okay, darlin’?” he asked.
“Drunk enough to dance this much,” Squall patted Irvine’s hand. “But not enough to do something stupid. Yet. No Selphie?”
“She was just escorting someone up to their room because they had a little too much to drink. She asked me to check on you when she saw you dancing with Seifer,” Irvine smiled his easy smile. His hair was loose, copper brown waves of silk that framed his face and spilled over his shoulders. Squall looked down at his jumper and was not surprised to see the proclamation ‘I can get you on the naughty list’ in white on a background of a similar colour to Selphie’s dress.
“I think we’re making friends,” Squall shrugged, letting his head rest on Irvine’s shoulder for a moment. The long day, the dark room, the heat and the drink were all conspiring to make him tired now.
“That's all?” Irvine asked, amused. “I coulda sworn I saw you suggesting more.”
Him moving Seifer’s hand to his ass. Right. Well it was something alright. “Not out loud. Yet.”
“Seifer, though?” Irvine gave him a careful squeeze. Of course the whole thing was probably messed up and weird, but Squall couldn’t help himself, but he understood why Selphie, Irvine and the others might be worried about him taking a risk like that. Especially after the previous year’s party - and it wasn’t like he’d shown any interest in anyone since then. He could see why they’d want to check in with him. “You not gonna regret that in the morning, darlin’?”
“...I mean….. If I did, at least it’d stop me from thinking he was hot, right?” Squall asked, opening his eyes just enough to see Irvine’s reaction.
Irvine chuckled fondly, shaking his head. “That’s one way to get over a crush, yeah. But it’s also a big explosive solution to it.”
“You trust him, right?”
“I do. He’s changed a lot since… all that trouble,” Irvine said and sighed. “This an old crush we’re talkin’ about? Like one that predates all that too?”
“Yeah,” Squall paused as something caught his attention. A movement out of the corner of his eye that was enough to make him look over at the door to see Seifer half leaning through the door, glancing around. When he realised Squall was looking back at him, Seifer waved for him to come over.
Squall pointed at himself. ’Me? You want me?
Seifer nodded, then pointed at Irvine and waved for him too.
Irvine and Squall exchanged a worried glance, their conversation already forgotten. When they made it to the door back into the reception area, they could already hear a male voice yelling over the music. Selphie was stood in front of the stairs that led up to the hotel rooms, hands on her hips and her glare set on stun with Seifer beside her, eyes fixed on the asshole that was yelling. Sadly whatever the guy had drunk through the night had allowed him some measure of immunity to self preservation techniques.
The stranger looked like he’d seen the bottom of a few too many glasses, his clothing dishevelled. “I jus’ wanna see my girlfriend!” he slurred, wavering in place.
“And I told you, she said doesn’t wanna see you,” Selphie growled. Squall saw her hand twitch, reflex urging her to go for her hyper-junction and her weapon, but it was of course absent. He also knew that meant she was thoroughly pissed off.
“I paid f’r the room! I have a right to see her!”
“If that’s all,” Squall said coolly, nodding to the receptionist. Squall trusted Selphie’s judgement and was sure he’d get the full story the following day when everything was neatly wrapped up. “We can deal with that. We’ll get you refunded and I’ll put her room on my tab.”
“Oh big man, takes three of you to come and face me?”
“No darlin’” Irvine smirked. Squall guessed that either the guy had come as someone’s date or he was one of the occasional interlopers who’d make their way into the party just because they were staying at the hotel, given that he didn’t realise who he was speaking with. Given that he didn’t have the slightest clue how much danger he was in. “One to direct the ambulance, one to inform your next of kin and one to keep a compress on wherever you’re bleedin’. You do realise that’s a SeeD in front of you, right?”
“Do we get to draw straws to see who does what?” Seifer grinned. “Or do we call dibs? If so, I’m informing the next of kin.”
The drunken stranger looked Selphie up and down. “Doesn’t look that tough,” he huffed. “Just needs bringing down a peg or two,” he balled one hand into a fist and only managed to bring it to shoulder height before Squall’s patience ran out and Squall’s stop spell hit him. If it had been another night, maybe he’d have let them have a little more fun with the guy before dealing with him, but it was already late and the receptionist was wringing her hands with the stress of it all.
Besides. A stop spell would at least stop him and give him time to cool off. If he let the two SeeDs and Seifer loose on him there was every chance they might actually kill him.
“Just when it was getting fun,” Selphie huffed, and waved a hand at the frozen figure of the asshole. “Irvy, Seifer, can you help this…. Person out while I go check on her?”
Squall took the money from the receptionist and tucked the bills into the stranger’s shirt pocket and looked him in the eye. “If you come back, next time I’ll do this again and have them dump you in the harbour. Don’t let me catch you in here again tonight.”
Seifer and Irvine picked the stranger up by his arms and half carried, half dragged him to the door as Squall apologised for the incident to the receptionist. That seemed enough to soothe her nerves, and he took the time to remind her that she had most of SeeD and the garden’s staff just a room away should she need assistance.
As soon as their burden had been unceremoniously dumped outside, the two came back. Irvine patted Seifer’s shoulder with a grin, gave Squall a meaningful look and a gesture of ‘all yours’ before he followed Selphie up the stairs. Squall couldn’t help smiling to himself.
“Here I thought I was the one who was supposed to cause the theatrics,” Seifer shook his head, heading for the door to the ballroom again. “So much for that.”
When he reached the doorway, Squall called his name. “Seifer?”
Seifer paused, half turning to look back at Squall. He looked almost hopeful, Squall thought. Tall and lean with slightly messy hair, too green eyes and that old scar between his eyes. Yeah, he was handsome. Despite everything that had happened years before, all the mess of the war and the quiet years between, Squall wanted more. He wanted to know this Seifer too, the same as he’d known the Seifer’s before, or more. “Yeah?”
Squall strolled up. “You saved me with the dancing. Let me take a turn before someone someone figures that out, okay?” he asked, pointing up.
Seifer looked up. Hanging just inside the doorway, deliberately placed by Selphie as she had every year of her Yule parties, was a sprig of mistletoe, white berries and green leaves tied to a bright red and gold ribbon so anyone who came through the door was in the perfect position to be accosted. “You serious?” Seifer asked so soft he sounded like he could barely breathe.
Squall gave a shrug, wrapping an arm around Seifer’s neck. “About this? Very serious.”
Squall kissed him. A slow, hungry kiss, with Seifer filling his senses again. That damn scent of sandalwood, salt and rum, the warmth of Seifer’s skin even through the festive jumper, and then Seifer wrapped both arms around him and Squall felt like he was falling. A part of him couldn’t help comparing it to his last kiss with Rinoa, a whole year before. How little it had done for him, and how very different kissing Seifer felt. Seifer was the one who broke the kiss to stare at him, breathing heavy, his lips parted though he couldn’t find words.
“So,” Squall said softly. He didn’t want to let go of Seifer, he didn’t want to move for fear of breaking the spell that had been that first kiss. “About that not wanting to be flat on your back before the night’s over…”
“Rethinking things?” Seifer gave him a little grin. As much as Squall didn’t want to let go of Seifer, Seifer didn’t seem to want to let go of him either, arms still tight around his waist. Though Squall had long been aware of his attraction to men, he hadn’t acted on it. Always too busy or too stuck to really look for anyone. Then fate - or at least, Selphie Tilmitt - had practically thrown Seifer into his lap.
“I do have a room here tonight.” Squall shrugged. A lot of the SeeDs and Staff would stay overnight after the parties rather than be around the kids when they’d been drinking. It helped with the hang overs too, avoiding the loud noises in the dorms. Even though it was the holidays and the majority of the kids were gone, there were still a good number of students stuck at the school over winter. “If you wanted to…”
“Get flat on my back?”
“With me.”
Seifer watched him for a moment, lips just slightly parted. “I… yeah. I want to. I think I’ve wanted to for years.”
Squall eased out of Seifer’s arms and opened the door again, inclining his head in invitation. “Then… it’s about time.”
Squall had room 308 as he always did. It was the room that offered the best view of the harbour and by the time they reached it, the snow was coming thick and fast. The harbour lights were barely visible, just a yellow soft glow somewhere in the distance. Squall slipped into the room first, letting Seifer trail behind him. It was warm but thankfully not nearly so hot as the ballroom on the ground floor and the first thing Squall did was fill the waiting glasses on the bedside table with water and offer one to Seifer.
“You swear this isn’t a trick?” Seifer asked, suddenly looking concerned.
“No, this is a glass of water to help with the hangover in the morning,” Squall shook his head. “Are you nervous?”
Seifer took the glass and gulped half of it down before he paused to catch his breath. “Well… you have a lot of reasons to hate me, Squall.”
Squall sipped his own glass, setting it down where he could reach him from the bed. “Just for tonight, let’s throw all the lists away, okay? Yours and mine.”
That got a small snigger. “I’d forgotten about the lists. I was such an ass.”
“So was I,” Squall shrugged, peeling out of his sweater and tossing it aside. Unlike Seifer, he wasn’t wearing anything beneath it except for Griever, the silver lion sitting on his chest. Seifer swallowed again thickly, his eyes tracing the path of the chain from Squall’s throat all the way down. “I’d like to think I got better.”
Unable to take his eyes off Squall, Seifer carefully set the glass down beside his, and wrapped his arms around Squall again. At least that change had been enough to convince Seifer that he was serious, and as Seifer’s lips found his again, Squall let himself get lost in that intoxicating scent of sandalwood, salt and rum. Seifer was almost intoxicating as the drink itself.
And Squall was happy to drink deeply.