Dedication: Pixie for the unintentional inspiration and for having the hottest muse ever *pets Seifer* and Kayla for putting up with me in Oxford and... just because ^__^ *hugs all round*

I know how I feel when I'm around you
I don't know how I feel when I'm around you
- Roulette (System Of A Down)

The winter air chilled the exposed skin of Irvine's face to a deathlike numbness while the unwelcome evening breeze tugged his hair; the movement of the loose strands the only indication of life. He was sat on the cold steps of the Quad, unnaturally still, as if he wished to merge with his surroundings. The desired effect was achieved since no one seemed to notice him, and those that did see the silent cowboy thought better than to approach. If it had been day they might have caught a glimpse of the bitterness sharp and undisguised in his eyes, and then perhaps have sensed the hurt hanging from him like heavy garments. But the moon was already rising in the rich purple black of the night sky, the faint glimmer of stars and the dull amber glow of the lamps dim enough to hide his pains.

Almost an hour had passed since he had emerged from the warmth of the Garden in search of solitude and the number of students passing the stone steps had dwindled. He brought his fingers to his mouth, cupping his hands as he blew on the skin, his warm breath thawing the icy feeling temporarily.

'So cold...'

Cold, yes. But it was nothing compared to the scene that he had left behind. It couldn't even have been called a proper argument, since no angry words were exchanged, no voices raised. But that was just it - Nothing. No emotion. The ice prince had lived up to his name and Irvine was powerless to penetrate the wall he had built around himself. He couldn't stand the silence or that look anymore; that silent unfeeling gaze that Irvine couldn't change.

But once he had. He had seen that icy exterior melt before his very eyes and thought, or was it hoped, that he had solved the enigma that was Squall Leonhart. But now the distance between them was back, and the worst part was that he didn't know why and doubted that he ever would. He would gladly have given anything for some heated words spoken vehemently by his lover in a fit of rage. Anything but the silence.

So here he was, sat beneath the cruel night sky in an isolation of his own making, cold and silent. Just like Squall. Oh the irony.

A piercing, rusty screeching caused him to wince and lift his gaze to the source. The Hyperion's sharp tip sparked as it scratched the paving, midway through its destructive journey. Its owner stood several metres away from the steps under a lamppost, his coat fluttering with each gust of wind. The blond wore an amused smile that became a fully-fledged smirk as he noted that his actions had elicited the desired response from the brunette. After a few seconds more, just to test Irvine's endurance, Seifer's gunblade halted abruptly leaving an engraved arc in its wake. Irvine looked entirely un-amused, though a few hours earlier he might have shrugged off Seifer's attempts to irritate him.

"Yes?"

Seifer brought the blade to his side and rested his weight upon it casually, "I overheard some students gossiping about a moody cowboy sat in the Quad, so I came to see for myself." his smile broadened, "And here you are."

Irvine clenched his fist and blew on his stiff fingers once more before rubbing his hands together, appearing not to care in the slightest about the blonde's interest in him as he sarcastically muttered, "M'glad I haven't disappointed you."

Seifer chuckled before placing his free hand on his hip, a look of mild amusement replacing the grin, "What's the matter? Trouble with the missus?"

Irvine lifted his gaze momentarily as he gave the blond a warning look before his attention went back to his hands, "That's not really your business, is it?"

"And what if I choose to make it my business, hmm?"

Said in a perfectly innocent voice, but the challenge was there.

For the first time since his arrival, Seifer seemed to have captured Irvine's full attention.

The sharpshooter laughed, a parody of amusement, "Then I'd probably tell you to fuck off."

Seifer's hand grabbed at his chest dramatically as if he had been physically wounded while his face adopted an expression of hurt.

"Now now Kinneas. I offer you a shoulder to cry on and that's how you repay me?" the dramatic pose vanished as the blond lifted up his gunblade to ponder his reflection. Fingering the smooth metal with gloved fingers he calmly continued, "I'll let you off this time for such bad manners, but count yourself lucky. If you were Chicken or the resident queen of hyperactivity I'd be forced to make you regret those words."

For a moment Irvine was taken off guard and forgot his problems, his curiosity getting the better of him, "And what have I done to deserve such a privilege?"

Seifer looked up from the blade, which glinted under the lamplight, his tone strangely genuine, "Because, Kinneas, I don't exactly hate you."

"So you're telling me you came out here just to talk to me?" a sceptical look.

"Not really" he replied nonchalantly, "It was mainly out of boredom actually. Fujin and Raijin aren't here and I'd get some amusement from tormenting Chicken but I can't find him anywhere. But what the hell, I'm here now so you may as well talk to me before I grow bored again."

A few long strides bridged the gap between them and Seifer was suddenly standing beside him, leaning against the wall.

There was a long moment of silence before Irvine decided to speak, not fully trusting his confidant, "It's Squall."

"What has his royal iciness done this time?"

"Just that."

Seifer looked puzzled, "You're pissed 'cause he's being his usual Squallish self?"

Irvine shook his head, "Not exactly... S'just I thought he'd changed. You must've noticed a difference in him."

"Sure. For a while he wasn't as much of a prick, I'll give you that." the blond replied, rummaging though his coat pockets for his cigarettes, "But what did you expect?"

The cowboy shrugged, "I don't know. I just can't figure out why. I mean, why now? It's been six months and suddenly bang! He changes back" a weak smile, "and I have no idea why. I don't see why he feels the need to keep up his icy exterior bullshit around me."

"It's Squall" Seifer said, lighting a cigarette placed precariously between his lips, "You must've known what you were letting yourself in for."

"Hmm..." Irvine replied vaguely, "We're such opposites. He's so cold... and I'm.."

"...Hot?" Seifer ventured, smoke lingering around him.

Irvine managed to smile before sinking back into his own thoughts.

A few minutes passed and Seifer dropped the cigarette to the floor, stubbing it out with the heel of his boot, "So, six months huh? That seems like a long time for you, Kinneas."

Irvine could have put up an argument in his defence but he knew that it would have been a weak one. His reputation was well known and everyone seemed surprised that he had settled down, himself included.

"Yeah, it is. Commitment's harder than it looks, right?" he joked, though there was truth in his words.

"When it comes to Leonhart, sure." Seifer replied, stretching out his legs, "He's always cold, even when you fuck, right?"

Irvine went to speak, the sharp words visible on the tip of his tongue, but Seifer cut him off, "Don't even pretend that he doesn't have a past, Kinneas. I know just as well as you do how detached he can be. Even when he's kneeling in front of you begging for it he can be an iceberg, am I right?" He didn't wait for an answer, watching the brunette intently, sniggering, "He warmed up for a while. You must've caught him in his 'summer' period or something."

"So why did you two break up?" Irvine asked, his words dripping with spiteful intent.

The smug look quickly vanished from Seifer's face and his voice hardened, "That's not really your business, is it Kinneas?"

Another cigarette was placed between his lips and promptly lit, the blond taking a deep drag before exhaling in a bored manner, "Look, just don't let it get to you, okay? Go find something to distract yourself. That's what I do when people piss me off. Train, read a book or whatever the fuck works for you." a shadow of a smile graced his features momentarily, "It helps."

"I've never seen you in the training centre."

"You think I get good enough to whoop your ass by sitting on mine? No, no. I go there late... or early. Depends on how you look at it. Less distractions from my distraction that way."

The cowboy shook his head. If he thought that he didn't understand Squall then he knew for a fact that he didn't understand Seifer Almasy.

Seifer shrugged, taking a few more drags on his cigarette before flicking it half finished into a puddle. "Well, I am now officially bored so I guess I'll see you later cowboy."

Irvine watched him walk away, gunblade by his side, and there was something undeniably impressive about the way the scarred blond held himself. The cowboy's eyes left the dark shadows of the doors long after they had enveloped him.

"...So?"

Irvine blinked at the small blond, snapping out of his thoughts at the sound of his voice. "So... what?"

Zell exhaled impatiently, "You weren't even listening to me! I was askin' you what you wanted for lunch," he gestured to the cafeteria ladies, "pizza or chicken salad?"

He shrugged, "I don't mind, really."

"Choose." Zell demanded firmly.

"Fine, pizza."

Zell walked off looking satisfied, leaving Irvine alone at their table. It had been two days since he had fled to the Quad to be alone and although he and Squall were talking he felt that nothing had been resolved. The cowboy had come to the conclusion that they were in relationship limbo - not quite together but not quite apart. Sixth months previously he would have considered such an arrangement the ideal relationship as it left him commitment free, but time had changed him and his opinion had changed also.

The martial artist returned carrying two trays, one of which was promptly placed in front of Irvine accompanied by a friendly, "Here you go."

"Thanks."

"So, what's up?"

"With me?" Irvine put on a smile, "Nothing."

Zell was thoroughly unconvinced and made no effort to hide this fact. "Really?"

"Yeah, seriously."

"If you say so..." he replied, biting into his pizza before dismissing his questions, "You remember what I was telling you before about that guy that I know who makes the customized weapons? Well, it turns out.."

A slap on the forehead stopped Zell mid sentence. He spluttered out an indignant "Hey!" as he turned only to find Seifer looking down at him, a smirk on his face.

"Hey chickie, enjoying your meal?"

"I was.."

"Mmm, that pizza sure looks good. Can I try some?" Seifer asked in a voice that was a little too cheery to be genuine.

Zell glared at him, "No."

The scarred blonde's smirk remained as he clicked his fingers and instantly Fujin and Raijin were at his side. "Fu." He gestured to the pizza. His silver haired companion swiftly removed the slice from Zell's hand while her muscular friend cracked his knuckles threateningly.

"Hey! Give that back!" Zell protested, getting to his feet only to be pushed back into his chair by Raijin.

"Seifer.." Irvine muttered as he looked up at the tall blond disapprovingly.

The blond in question simply smiled in response as Fujin handed him the pizza. He took a big bite, savouring the outraged look on Zell's face almost as much as the taste before turning to the brunette once more and sniggering, "Don't worry Kinneas, you can keep yours."

And with a wink he headed off to a nearby table, his posse in tow.

Zell waited until his bully was safely out of earshot before muttering curses under his breath, aggressively tucking into his remaining slice of pizza.

"The bastard. If he wasn't with his little friends he wouldn't be so cocky..." He took a moment to regain his composure, "But anyway, this guy I was talking about. If you show him the model that you want and have a few gil he'll fix it up for you. I was thinking of getting him to upgrade these gloves..."

Zell's words melted into background noise as Irvine let the conversation wash over him, occasionally nodding or making ambiguous noises of interest to humour the small blond. His mind was elsewhere as his gaze wandered from his friend to Seifer, who stood proudly with one foot on the seat of his chair while he regaled his two attentive followers with an old anecdote of past triumph at another's expense. Irvine watched the scarred blond tell his tale, his gloved grip on Hyperion's handle growing tighter as the story neared its climax, his features animated by a life, a heat that seemed to radiate from him, from the self-assured curl of his lips to the flickers of jade that danced in his irises as he burst into soundless laughter. Seifer threw back his head, laughing at the ceiling, Raijin and Fujin following suit. The petite girl tittered behind her hand while Raijin banged his fist on the table, loud guffaws wracking his body and tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks. The laughter continued, and Seifer glanced over at the silent cowboy unnoticed by the pair. There was something inviting about his face. His smirk seemed less aggressive than usual and his eyes warm, not sharp and piercing. The moment passed as the blonde's laughter got the better of him and he turned back to his friends.

"You're doing it again!"

The sharpshooter came back to his senses to find Zell scowling at him, his lips forming the perfect sulky pout, "Huh?"

"Ignoring me. What were you so busy staring at anyways?" he replied moodily, following Irvine's previous line of sight. "Urgh, they get to me too. Acting like they own the place..."

Irvine watched with amusement as Zell began to curse the disciplinary committee yet again until his irritation gradually fizzled out and he remembered more important matters, "So, this guy I was talking about..."

A few hesitant knocks signalled Irvine's arrival.

"It's open."

The cowboy slowly opened the door to the bedroom and was met with Squall's back. He was sat hunched over a notebook in which he was frantically scribbling, several piles of textbooks stacked like towers around him on the desktop. The only light came from his lamp leaving the rest of the room in shadow.

"Oh... you busy? I thought you might be asleep."

Squall nodded, his eyes remaining fixed on his work.

Irvine lingered in the doorway uncertainly, "You mind if I sit down?"

The silent brunette shrugged, his pen in constant motion. The sharpshooter let the door click shut behind him before walking over to settle on the bed. There was a long silence before he spoke again, "What are you working on?"

Squall pointed to one of the books, "A report on junctioning."

"Ah... okay." Irvine said quietly, watching his distant lover with a mixture of affection and sadness. "Well, do you feel like taking a break?" he asked hopefully.

"I can't."

"But it's two in the morning!" he said disbelievingly, "You've been working on that since six-thirty. Why can't you take a break?"

"I just can't." Squall replied, no emotion in his voice.

Irvine walked over to stand behind him. He watched Squall continue to work, never faltering. "Do you know how long it's been since we talked properly?" he asked calmly, "Two weeks."

No reply, just the scratching of pen on paper.

"Do you know how long it's been since we slept together?" His built up hurt and frustration began to seep into his voice, "A month."

Still no reply.

"What have I done to make you so cold?"

The brunette continued to write, sat in silence.

"What have I done?" Irvine demanded, his voice raising.

The pen stopped in its tracks, though Squall's gaze still rested on his work.

For Irvine it was too much and his anger and self-pity took over, "Why won't you touch me? Why won't you look at me?" He placed his hands on Squall's shoulders as though he might slip through his fingers unless he clung to him. He took a quivering breath, his voice shrinking to a whisper, "Look at me."

Nothing.

"Look at me!" he demanded angrily.

Slowly Squall turned and looked up at him, his eyes lifeless and no indication of his thoughts gracing the straight line his lips formed or creasing his brow. He reminded Irvine of a porcelain doll, unchanging and cold.

"Say something... please." he pleaded.

Squall's gaze didn't waver, "You should sleep." he stated matter-of-factly, his tone devoid of sympathy or any real concern.

Irvine could barely control his shaking voice, "I don't know what I've done to deserve this. I've done nothing."

As the door slammed behind him Squall looked to it briefly, almost regretfully, before turning back to his work.

The artificial light of the training centre was dimmed to mimic that of the late afternoon sun. The calming sound of running water and the chirping of insects inhabiting the lush vegetation gave the place a deceptively safe atmosphere that was only occasionally undermined by the crackle of twigs snapping in the bushes. The rest of the Garden may have been asleep, but the residents of this manmade jungle were far from it, the whole area teeming with life. Not that Irvine noticed as he trudged across the wooden plank bridge to venture further into the tropical refuge, gun at his side, his trigger finger itching. After a few minutes of walking he settled in a clearing, mentally urging something, anything, to happen. He was so tired of feeling frozen, of being static. He absently wiped at his forehead, the heat clinging to his skin.

A gunshot rang out.

Irvine walked over to the tree he had aimed at, fingering the splintered entry hole with the smallest amount of satisfaction. He stood back and let loose three more bullets, each entering the tree trunk at most a centimetre apart from each other. He smiled, but the feeling didn't last. Stood in the grassy clearing he stared up at the metallic ceiling and watched a bird soar overhead, trilling as it disappeared into the treetops. The cowboy reached into his coat pocket for his hipflask and brought it to his lips. The liquid ran hot down his throat making him cough. Galbadian fire whisky, nothing like it.

The noises he had grown accustomed to were interrupted by a foreign sound a little further up ahead. He strained to see if he could catch the noise once more, and sure enough it came again - definite movement. Hastily slipping the flask back into his pocket he ventured on in search of the source.

The sound grew steadily louder as he pushed his way through the wall of branches until they began to thin.

The bulky green body of the grat rocked as its small legs stumbled across the floor, its vines flailing manically in the air while it shrieked at its opponent. Stood facing the creature was Seifer Almasy, stripped to the waist, Hyperion raised. The grat screamed at him before lashing out with its tendrils, catching Seifer clean across the chest. The blond winced, steadying himself before unleashing his gunblade's full potential on the monster, slashing at it with all his strength. The grat made one final attempt at defeating its attacker but Seifer was too quick, countering the blow with a downward thrust into the grat's body. Its scream intensified as it writhed, thick green liquid oozing from its fatal injuries before it ceased, its body failing and falling still.

It was then that Irvine approached. Seifer turned, his surprise short-lived on his face.

"Hey cowboy" he greeted him a little breathlessly, "You enjoy the show?"

Irvine nodded, resting his gun on his shoulder, "Are you okay?"

Seifer chuckled, "Just fine. These walking pot plants are no big deal."

"Sure?" The Galbadian asked, looking at the cuts on Seifer's chest that had started to bleed.

"These?" Seifer wiped at his wounds, "scratches Kinneas, just scratches." He yanked his Hyperion from its scabbard of flesh; the blade now coated in the monster's gloopy innards. "So what brings you here Kinneas? Needed a distraction?"

Irvine's face darkened momentarily as he was reminded of the reason for his late night excursion, "Something like that."

From his trouser pocket Seifer produced a small cloth, which he proceeded to wipe himself with. It was obvious that the blond had been training for a long time as his skin glistened, slick with perspiration. Belatedly Irvine realised that this was perhaps the only time he had seen Seifer without his coat or top on and inwardly he was glad for the view. The training he'd done had obviously paid off. His well-toned muscles were all the proof that Irvine needed to come to that conclusion.

"Killed anything?" Seifer asked casually while he attempted to wipe his blade clean.

"No. Unless slightly injuring a tree counts."

"'Fraid not cowboy," the blond replied, abandoning the futile clean up operation to sit down on the crumbling remains of an old wall, "But seriously, the snow queen giving you problems again?"

Irvine sat down on the floor opposite Seifer and drank from his flask, beyond caring who he opened up to, "Hyne, he won't talk to me, let me near, anything. I don't know what to do. I don't know..." his voice died.

Seifer seemed unfazed by Irvine's confession and gestured to the flask, which Irvine tossed to him. He took a long swig before replacing the cap, licking the corner of his mouth to catch a few stray drops.

"You know what my advice to you is, Kinneas?" he left a pause, though he expected no reply, "Forget Squall, screw him. You don't need that icy prick fuckin' with your head. Hyne knows I didn't."

And that's what Irvine did.

Seifer had gotten to his feet and was still talking, but Irvine wasn't listening. He had ached for too long, been so cold and alone, and in the overwhelming heat of this artificial rainforest he had found the means of his release, the warmth he craved.

He too got to his feet; his body running on instinct, and walked over to the blond who gave him a quizzical look.

"Cowboy?"

The brunette slowly traced Seifer's scar with his fingertip, a habit he'd developed because of Squall. The familiarity of the action was counterbalanced by the scar's inversion, as if Seifer was an inversion of Squall as a whole, all heat where he was frozen.

Feeling as though he had nothing left to lose, Irvine gave in to his desire, urgently pressing his lips to the blonde's and cupping Seifer's face in his hands. The scarred blond remained motionless for a moment until he abruptly grabbed Irvine by the wrists, pulling away from his touch. He raised an eyebrow.

It didn't matter what happened now. Seifer could tell Squall and it wouldn't matter, since he probably wouldn't believe him. He could have hit him and he wouldn't have cared.

But he didn't.

The look of stern curiosity gave way to a pleased smile, one that Irvine caught only a glimpse of before he was tugged roughly towards the blond by the collar of his coat, Seifer's lips meeting his own in an aggressive kiss that threatened to take his breath away. He kissed just as Irvine had imagined he would.

Irvine slid his fingers through the blonde's damp golden hair as Seifer's hands slipped beneath the heavy material of the cowboy's coat to hold him in a possessive embrace. The blond nipped Irvine's bottom lip, his eyes brimming with playful possibility. Still holding the cowboy to him he looked around before grinning to himself, grabbing Irvine's wrist and leading him by the arm into the undergrowth, their belongings long forgotten.

At last Seifer stopped and Irvine found himself in a small enclosed area surrounded by trees and bushes, far from the main path. Little light was able to penetrate the thick canopy of leafs, leaving the floor dappled by shadow. The scent of sex hung heavily in the air and the lack of breeze left both men feeling overwhelmed by the stifling heat. Irvine briefly wondered who else Seifer had brought to this place.

Seifer didn't release Irvine from his grip, instead deciding to pin him up against a tree. Smiling, he nibbled his way along the sharpshooter's jaw to his earlobe, which he licked coquettishly.

"You sure you want this, cowboy?" he asked hotly against Irvine's ear.

Irvine stifled a moan, growing harder by the second, "Hell yes."

"Good" the blond continued, slipping Irvine's coat from his shoulders and letting it drop to the ground, "'cause I was only being polite."

Irvine's mouth was claimed once more and he ran his nails down the length of Seifer's back as the blond began to peel away the sweat-soaked top from his skin before his fingers ventured downward to tackle the Galbadian's belt buckle.

"Off. Now."

Irvine blinked, dazed for a second by the aggression and urgency in Seifer's voice, but it didn't last long, and a moment later Irvine's top lay on the floor alongside his chaps, belt and trousers. He went to remove his hat, but Seifer shook his head.

"Leave it on."

Seifer stood back to enjoy the view presented to him - Irvine pressed against a tree clad only in his leather boots, hat and gloves, his silver necklace winking in the light and a pair of black boxer shorts the only obstacle still standing in Seifer's way. Irvine licked his lips, savouring the salty taste of sweat on his tongue.

Seifer smiled to himself, "Nice cowboy, very nice."

Pressing his body to the gunman's, close enough to feel Irvine's breath on his cheek, Seifer cupped the brunette in his hand through the dark material of his shorts.

"How 'bout you take these off, hmm?" he suggested, nipping Irvine's bottom lip, "Before I make you."

"And what if I don't?" Irvine asked in weak defiance, his heavy breathing and playful grin betraying his words.

"Then I'll have to do it myself and then bend you over that tree trunk over there and fuck you so hard you'll barely be able to walk tomorrow 'cause you back talked me." He paused, observing the brunette with much satisfaction, "But something tells me you'd like that."

Without further prompting, Irvine stepped out of his shorts, his breath hissing through his teeth as he inhaled sharply at Seifer's touch, the leather surprisingly cool against his heated flesh. Seifer began to work the brunette in his hand, slowly at first, but gradually picking up the pace while he watched Irvine, eyes half closed and delicate little sounds of pleasure escaping him. He twisted the cowboy's chocolate tresses around the fingers of his free hand. He'd always liked long hair. There was more to hold onto that way.

They kissed again, harder this time, Seifer's tongue exploring every inch of Irvine's mouth with relish. It was only broken when the blond felt nimble fingers freeing him from the confines of his clothing.

He moaned appreciatively deep in his throat, "You're very forward Kinneas. I like that."

They stood there a long while and the noises of the jungle were drowned out by the sound of skin on skin and heavy breathing hot on Irvine's neck punctuated with words of approval and encouragement from the tall blond.

Without warning the scarred blond pulled Irvine's hair hard, brown locks in his grip.

"Enough."

Seifer looked into Irvine's eyes and the brunette was powerless to look away.

"I suppose you wanna fuck, Kinneas?"

Irvine smiled as he pushed some hair from his eyes, "Looks like I'm not the only one, Almasy."

Seifer laughed, a broad grin on his face which gradually calmed into a mere upturn of the lips, "Maybe so, but if you want that privilege you're gonna have to earn it."

The fingers in Irvine's hair tightened.

Irvine slowly went to his knees, fingers still wrapped around Seifer's sex. He peered up at the blond, "This what you want?"

Seifer licked his lips and knocked the cowboy hat from his head, eyes hazy with desire, "You're a mind reader."

The scarred blond made a low purring sound as Irvine slid Seifer between his lips into the wet warmth of his mouth, slowly repeating the motion. The blonde's grip loosened, his fingers massaging the back of Irvine's neck as he watched the gunman who paused a moment before taking as much of Seifer's length as he could.

Seifer closed his eyes, "Like you mean it, Kinneas" he growled.

Irvine's eyes flickered upwards momentarily, his hand moving a little quicker, eager to please.

"Mmm... you know how long I've wanted you like this, cowboy?" he asked, losing himself to Irvine's ministrations, "Remember that SeeD ball, the one when you Nnn.. you wore your uniform for the first time? You got Selphie drunk and unnh.." his fingers tightened momentarily, "you were dancing with her? I pictured you like this, at my knees."

Seifer stopped talking for a long moment, a low moan escaping him as Irvine flickered his tongue.

"Hyne... you suck it like a pro..."

Without warning Seifer pulled Irvine roughly away, causing him to fall backwards to the ground.

"Heh..." Seifer's breath was shallow, "Well, I think you earned this, cowboy." He said placing Irvine's hat back on his head.

He helped the brunette to his feet and led him to a thick fallen tree, sitting him on its trunk. Irvine's heart was beating fast in his chest, so loudly that he was sure Seifer could hear or at least sense his growing anticipation.

"Lay down for me."

Irvine did as he was told, looking up at Seifer as he did so.

"You know, you're in for quite a ride, Kinneas." Seifer said, placing Irvine's right leg on his shoulder before removing one of his gloves with his teeth, "I don't fuck just anybody."

He brought two fingers to his mouth and sucked them for a moment before steadying Irvine's leg and fingering the cowboy's puckered opening with his saliva-coated finger. Irvine whimpered, his breath catching as Seifer applied pressure, pushing into him, allowing the brunette to adjust to the long lost sensation before scissoring his fingers.

"Heh, you like that, huh? S'funny, I always pictured you as being more vocal in the sack."

Irvine panted as Seifer began to handle him a little more roughly and without thinking he began to touch himself. He looked up defiantly at the blond once more, wanting to provoke him.

"Make me."

Seifer raised an eyebrow and looked amused, "Is that a challenge, cowboy?"

He withdrew his fingers, slinging the brunette's other leg over his shoulder before pulling the cowboy towards him. Irvine winced, the rough bark scraping painfully against his back.

Hands on Irvine's thighs, the blond looked down at him from his elevated position, lining himself up with the brunette, "I've gotta warn you though, I'm not gonna hold back. I'll make sure you're screaming before I'm through with you."

He began to push against Irvine's willing body, their eyes connecting. "And Irvine?" he smirked, running his bare hand across the leather of Irvine's boot, "Squall ain't got nothing on me."

Irvine cried out, part pleasure, part pain wracking his body as Seifer forced his way into him, burying himself deep in Irvine's sweat-slick body. The blond was leaning over him, eyes half closed, his lips parted midway through a silent expletive.

"Hyne..."

Slowly he eased himself from Irvine's warmth before thrusting into him again, the movement aggressive in its intensity, and Irvine cried out once more, his whole being aflame.

'So hot...'

Again and again the waves of rapture washed over him until he could barely tell one from another, his hands moving in time with Seifer's eager thrusts, the other clawing at the hard wood beneath him. Seifer's breath was shallow, his teeth grit together, his fingers leaving red marks on the brunette's thighs. Irvine closed his eyes in defeat and leant his head back against the tree trunk, his hat falling to the ground.

"Harder." He panted.

It seemed that Seifer didn't mind taking orders once and while if it suited him, and he obligingly fulfilled his request.

"Unnaaharder!" Irvine repeated loudly, more urgently, old bark cracking under his fingertips.

Seifer was moaning too, low desperate sounds that brought Irvine even closer. He was crying out now each time Seifer slammed into him, not caring about who or what heard, not caring that it was Seifer making him do so. At this moment in time he couldn't have picked Squall out of a line up.

"Aah! Unhsei... Seif..."

He came, and it was like everything he knew disappeared in a white hot blaze that consumed him and all that remained was Seifer's body over his own. Seifer felt the cowboy tighten around him but carried on in vain, trying to fight the urge but failing, and with one last defiant thrust he climaxed, struggling to breathe.

Seifer remained inside him, still holding his legs in place. Irvine belatedly realised that his mouth was dry and the skin of his back was throbbing painfully from the scrapes he'd received.

"Well" Seifer began, trying to catch his breath and smiling ever so slightly, "What a ride."

Irvine let the cold water sluice over his naked body, washing the soapy lather from his skin. Despite the time that had passed he hadn't been able to get Seifer out of his head. He awoke to the image of the blond standing over him and fell asleep with the sensation of Seifer's hands on his skin.

He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, droplets falling from his hair, wet and heavy. Seifer hadn't spoken of their late night encounter since he'd walked Irvine to the exit of the training centre, leaving him standing alone in the corridor after purring, "Fun date, cowboy. Must do it again some time."

Irvine had run those words around his head so many times, the temptation of Seifer's invitation teasing him, taunting him. He had seen the blond in the cafeteria, passed him in the corridors and it was as if nothing had changed. But every so often he caught Seifer glancing over at him and when they talked there was a certain knowing look in his eyes. But no words were spoken, no serious words at least. Just idle chitchat that left Irvine guessing at his thoughts in vain.

He reached for a towel before leaning forward to dry his hair, roughly rubbing at his scalp. Standing up straight he threw back his head, flicking his damp hair onto his shoulders and stood in front of the mirror to comb his hair with his fingers, working out the tangles and knots. He paused, noticing a dark mark on his shoulder. Turning sideways he brushed his hair to one side, exposing the skin of his back. Most of the wounds had healed without leaving a mark, but some scars had remained - a few dark jagged lines across his skin. They were his permanent reminder of that night, which remained so clear in his memory, bits repeating in his mind like a looped tape, over and over again. And every time he replayed the episode two conflicting emotions came over him - desire and guilt.

He couldn't look at his distant lover without seeing Seifer in his face. The blond was a living presence in the room with them as he tried in vain to play his part in their forced state of normality. Still cold, but talking at least. Barely. But despite his attempts to push Seifer aside, he couldn't do it any longer.

'He has to know...'

Irvine stared at himself in the mirror. He had to tell Squall, no matter what happened as a result. At worst Squall could leave him, but as things stood it was a risk Irvine was willing to take. The secrets and the silence were eating away at what they had once shared and it had to end.

Picking up his brush, the cowboy began to run it through his hair, calmly preparing himself for Squall's judgement.

"Woah woah woah! What's the rush?"

"I just wanna know where Squall is."

Zell looked concerned, "S'everythin' okay?"

"Everything's fine. I just wanna talk to him."

"Hmm..." Zell's brow creased as he pondered Squall's whereabouts, "Haven't seen him in the centre of the library. You checked his room? He's been working loads recently."

Irvine slapped his forehead, "Didn't think of that."

He turned on his heel and started back along the corridor but was stopped by Zell's hand on his shoulder.

"Are you sure?"

For a split second he felt like telling the small blond everything; that he wasn't okay, that everything wasn't fine, but he was sure that by that afternoon everyone in Balamb Garden would know his business, Zell included. Word travelled fast.

He smiled sadly, "I'm sure."

Squall's door was dull grey. Not a metallic grey bordering on silver or the dramatic grey of a thunderstorm. Just dull grey, like the kind found in hospital waiting rooms. Irvine had been staring at it for five minutes.

Usually he could talk his way out of anything, sugar-coated excuses and little white lies spilling from his lips so easily. Not now though. His thoughts were so jumbled that he couldn't untangle them. He had practiced his speech on the unresponsive door, but each time he said the words aloud he heard how hollow and false they sounded.

After taking a deep breath and adjusting his hat, Irvine knocked lightly on the door, but there came no response. He knocked again a bit louder but there was still no reply. Maybe he was still asleep, or in the shower perhaps? Irvine briefly wondered how he would like it if he were told such news first thing in the morning and considered walking away, but it couldn't wait. He tapped in the six-digit combination to Squall's dorm and heard the lock click open.

Squall had recently been upgraded to a better dormitory, which was more like an apartment, with a large bedroom, en-suite bathroom and a small but functional kitchen that most other dorms lacked, as well as a living area in which Irvine now stood. The television was on low, stuck on a shopping channel selling replica adamantine earrings for two hundred and ninety nine gil. Apart from the voice of the saleswoman on the television who wore too much eye shadow in Irvine's opinion and whose skin was an unhealthy orange, there was no noise. The door to the kitchen was half open and nobody was in there either. Quietly Irvine walked past the couch to the bedroom and opened the door.

He expected to find Squall fast asleep after yet another night of revision and reports stretching on into the early hours of the morning, but instead he was sat up in bed with the sheets pulled up defensively around his waist, a look of anxiety in his eyes.

"Hey. Did I wake you?"

Squall looked unnaturally flustered, "No, no. I was awake."

Irvine tentatively stepped into the room and stood at the foot of the bed, "That's good, 'cause I need to talk to you."

"Can it wait a while?" Squall asked, clutching at the sheets nervously.

"No, not really. I've got to tell you something. Something important." Irvine replied, perching himself on the edge of the bed, "Very important."

"But-"

"Look" he cut in, "D'you remember the other night, about a week or so ago..."

He stopped in his tracks, the bathroom door opening as if in slow motion, and from the doorway emerged Seifer Almasy, stood naked from the waist up. He glanced over at Squall and placed his hands on his hips before turning to Irvine, his lips curling upwards into a smirk, laughter in his eyes as he ran his fingers through his short blond hair.

"Hey cowboy."

~end~