Written for otherpervert
Author's Notes: 2409 words. Hope I'm posting this correctly. Also hope you like it.
It was a stormy night in Centra twelve years ago. Inside Edea’s house, the orphans huddled around the window, watching the rain pour down and the lightning dance across the sky.
Zell didn’t mind the lightning. It was the thunder that scared him. Every "KRAKABOOM!" made the old stone house shake and rattle. Zell screamed with every roll of thunder. He hid under his bed, shaking and sobbing.
Seifer did nothing to ease Zell’s torment. The little blond brat kept throwing pebbles and stones under Zell’s bed, chanting, "Chicken-wuss! Chicken-wuss!" Seifer jumped on Zell’s bed like it was a trampoline, torturing the little boy underneath.
"Oh no!" Seifer taunted Zell, "The house is falling down! We’re all gonna die! Well, I’m not gonna, ‘cause I’m strong, but Chicken-Wussy Zell is gonna get flattened like a pancake!" The creaking of the bed springs made it sound like the bed could snap in two. Zell felt trapped. He was screaming and crying hysterically.
Suddenly, the bouncing stopped, and Seifer was heard shouting, "OW! Get off me! Get off me!"
Another boy’s voice was heard from the top of the bed, "Leave Zell alone, or I’m putting this down your pants!"
It was Seifer’s turn to scream, "AAAHHH! NO! Get away! Maaaaatrrroooon!" Seifer jumped from the bed and ran, wailing and whining, into another room.
The other boy’s head peaked down from the top of the bed. Zell opened his eyes–it was Irvine.
"C’mon out," the little long-haired boy said, "He’s gone now. It’s safe."
"No it’s not," Zell was still weeping, "The thunder is gonna make the house fall down!"
"No it’s not," Irvine said, "C’mon, come out! I wanna show you something."
Zell was not budging. "What is it?"
Irvine lowered his hand. In it was the object Irvine had threatened Seifer with–a tiny, green-and-red frog. Zell immediately stopped crying, and his eyes lit up, "Cool!"
"I’ll let ya pet him," Irvine said, "but only if you come on outta the bed."
The thunder seemed to have quieted down for the moment, so Zell crawled out of his hiding space and climbed back onto the bed. The boys threw a blanket over their heads and made themselves their own tent. Irvine held a shoebox with grass and leaves–a nest for the little frog.
"You can pet him," Irvine said, "just be careful that he don’t jump out."
Zell gingerly poked the frog with his finger. The frog didn’t move. It just sat there, its little eyes blinking. It felt cold and a little slimy.
"Cool!" Zell gasped..
"Children, bedtime!" Matron’s voice was heard from the next room.
"Uh-oh, gotta hide the frog, or Matron will make me put it outside," Irvine put the lid on the box, and slid it under Zell’s bed. A new flash of lightning and a crack of thunder, the loudest yet, exploded over the stone house. Zell jumped and yelled. He wanted to dive back under the bed.
"It’s OK, Zell," Irvine got back under their blanket-tent, "There’s nothin’ to be scared of."
Zell was still not convinced. He was as white as chalk, "What if the roof caves in?"
"The roof ain’t gonna cave in!" Irvine "pshaw’d", "If you’re scared, I’ll stay with you, OK?"
Zell nodded, "OK."
Irvine grabbed his pillow from his own bed, and climbed back into Zell’s. The boys huddled together under the blankets. The light and sound were dampened somewhat by the heavy quilts.
"Ya know what I heard?" Irvine asked.
"What?" Zell said, staring into space.
"I heard that storms are what happens when Gigamess goes bowling."
"Really?" Zell said, wide-eyed.
"Yeah!" Irvine continued, "He take a big, heavy, stone boulder, polishes it up nice and shiny, and rolls it towards the pins. The ball rolls so fast that it leaves a lightning trail. When it hits the pins, BOOM!
"Gigamess must be really good," Zell nodded. "But I wish he’d play somethin’ quieter like cards or somethin’."
The boys giggle, as they cuddled up closer. Together under the covers, the storm seemed far less scarier. The quilts kept out the damp chill. Zell felt safe. They both fell fast asleep, dreaming of Gilgamesh playing poker with Shiva and Ifrit.
Years late,r in Garden, Zell laid in bed, watching the lightning flash across the skies. The miserable weather made him feel lazy and drowsy. He was hoping Squall didn’t have any errands for him. His hopes were nearly dashed when someone knocked on the door.
"Who’s there?" Zell yawned loudly.
"It’s Irvie," the voice answered.
"C’mon in, dude, door’s open," Zell called out, still lying in bed. Irvine walked in and looked at Zell with amusement.
"Bumming out?" The sniper smirked.
"Yeah. ‘Sup with you?" Zell asked.
"Oh, nothing. I was walking by the classrooms," Irvine chuckled, "You would find this funny. These kids–they were like 5, 6 years old–they were hiding under the desks. They were afraid of lightning hitting Garden and the whole place sinking under the ocean!"
Zell laughed, "Oh man, that’s funny! Did you tell ‘em the bowling story?"
"Yeah, and that seemed to help. Except now, they’re running around yelling, ‘Strike!’"
The SeeDs laughed. Zell stretched his arms and legs out, full length. Irvine scratched his head under his hat.
"So, what’re you doing now?" Zell asked Irvine.
There was a brief silence, broken only by distant rolling thunder. Irvine started yawning, too, "Bad weather makes you sleepy, huh?"
"Yeah," Zell said, then a thought appeared into his head. Zell looked into Irvine’s eyes, grinning mischievously. He pulled back the covers and patted one side of the bed.
"Wha..?" Irvine laughed nervously, "Are you serious?"
"I ain’t being pervy or nothin’," Zell said, "Just, you know, for old time’s sake?"
Irvine cocked an eyebrow, then shrugged. He locked the door (Hyne forbid anyone should walk in and get the wrong idea.) He then slipped off his coat, hat and boots, and slid under the covers with Zell. When they were kids, they thought nothing of cuddling up together for a midday nap. Now that they were teenagers, almost grown men, that same idea would have seemed strange, even inappropriate. They laid close together, side by side in the twin-size bed.
"Hey," Irvine asked, turning his head so his nose pressed lightly against Zell’s cheek. "Is there anything in Garden rules against this?"
"I don’t think so. Why?" Zell murmured, "The Disciplinary Gang ain’t here no more."
"What if Squall finds out?"
"He won’t say nothing," Zell shrugged, "I don’t even think he’ll care. Honestly, Irvine, I thought he was some kind of mute the first few years I knew him..."
Zell’s sentence was interrupted by Irvine’s arms, wrapping around Zell’s waist. Irvine pulled Zell closer to him, rolling him onto his side. They laid on their sides, stomach to stomach. Suddenly, Zell felt a little nervous.
"Uh, um, Irvine?" Zell stammered.
"Do you remember?" Irvine murmured, "We used to huddle in bed like this all the time when we were little. It wasn’t anything. It just...helped me feel less alone, knowing you were right there next to me. I know we shouldn’t be doing this now that we’re grown-ups, but..."
"I missed it, too," Zell said, breathing a sigh. He wrapped his arms around Irvine’s torso. "I missed you, after I was adopted and moved to Balamb. Second night there, it thunderstormed. I didn’t get scared, though. I pretended you were there, telling me that silly story. It always made me feel better. I guess, because of the GF’s, I kind of forgot."
The memories came flooding back, as their legs slowly entwined with one another’s. As they held each other tightly, innocent brotherly love was slowly becoming something else, something more intense. Irvine was still fully-clothed in his leather trousers and vest, but he could feel Zell’s heart pounding against his own chest. Irvine’s toes started to weave into Zell’s in a gentle game of foot-wrestling.
Zell was only wearing pants–his chest was bare. Irvine could feel the warmth of Zell’s skin, his ribcage slowly expanding and contracting within the sniper’s slender arms. Irvine’s hands, moving as if by free will, began to examine the muscles under Zell’s skin, bulkier and more defined than his own. Zell’s skin tingled under Irvine’s fingertips, as they slowly inched over his shoulders, his back, his sides. Zell rubbed a hand over Irvine’s forearm–his skin was warm and soft to the touch and it had goose-bumps. Zell wrapped his muscular arms over Irvine’s, pulling the sniper closer to his chest.
The two boys pulled their faces together and looked into each other’s eyes. A new heat was building up between them, something not-so-innocent. Their noses and foreheads pressed against each other. A crack of lightning and a peal of thunder added to the nervous tension in the air.
They were looking for reasons to stop, but their hands refused to desist their gentle exploration.
Warning signs were flashing within Irvine’s brain. He waited for Zell to push him off and kick him out of his room.
Zell heard the warning signs in his head as well. He knew they were encroaching into dangerous territory. Irvine was his friend, his best friend, a boy. A voice in Zell’s head asked, "Things like this don’t happen, do they?"
They ignored the warnings. There was no protest from Zell.
"Irvine," Zell asked, breathing heavily.
"Zell?" Irvine answered.
There was a kiss, a light kiss, an experimental kiss. Zell waited, with his eyes shut, for Irvine to punch him, pull away, scream at him. It didn’t happen. Irvine stayed. His lips stayed where they were–on Zell’s.
It didn’t seem as weird to be kissing a boy as Zell imagined, not when that boy was Irvine. Perhaps, he reasoned, these feelings were supposed to happen, but only between the two of them. The fighter now asked himself, how far was Irvine willing to go?
"This...isn’t weird. Right?"
"Maybe. I don’t know. I kind of like it."
"Me too," Zell said. He was sweating, "I...um...I kind of wanna..."
"Me too," Irvine said quickly.
"You do?" Zell’s eyes flew open.
"Yeah." Irvine was shaking so hard, the bed was rattling against the wall.
"You wanna...?" Zell squeezed him harder, trying to still him.
"Just...try it out? See what it’s like?" Irvine was breathing hard and fast.
"Yeah, right!" Zell half-chuckled, nervous as hell, "Try it out!"
They kissed again, hard. Zell’s tongue peaked out a little to lick his friend’s upper lip. Irvine opened his mouth, and their tongues twisted together. The sniper’s fingers raked through Zell’s blond spikes. Zell untied Irvine’s ponytail and let his long, beautiful hair spill out over the pillows. The fighter ran his thick fingers through the sniper’s dark mane.
The fever within them and between them grew unbearable. They needed to undress, to feel each other’s bodies, completely without impediment. Zell’s hands unzipped Irvine’s vest, pulled it off, and tossed it to the floor. Irvine’s fingers began digging into Zell’s shoulders, as their torsos grinded against each other’s. The gunman’s hands further explored Zell’s body–his chest, his stomach, his back, his thighs. Irvine’s hands eventually wandered onto Zell’s buttocks, squeezing and kneading the muscles over the fabric of his pants.
"Just take ‘em off," Zell growled. With one smooth motion, Irvine pulled down Zell’s pants and underwear. Zell could not suppress a groan as warm, bare hands massaged his buttocks. He briefly reminded himself that this was a man doing this to him. This was a man kissing him, grinding against him, making his private parts throb and bulge. In that moment, he didn’t care. The last of his doubt and inhibitions fell away with his clothes. All that was left to do was to remove the last barrier between their bodies.
Zell reached down, unzipped Irvine’s trousers and pushed them down to his thighs. Irvine kicked off the pants and the two boys laid together completely naked. Their pelvises engaged in a form of erotic swordplay. Skin against skin, they curled and wrapped around each other in passionate embrace. Their kiss grew harder, as did their lower organs. Irvine’s hand pushed in between their bodies and reached down between their hips. His fingers combed through their patches of hair, and found Zell’s throbbing manhood. Irvine’s slightly calloused fingertips felt a little rough against the most sensitive skin on Zell’s body.
"I think we’re about the same size," Irvine made an off-beat comment. Zell laughed, then groaned as the sniper’s fingers slithered up and down his shaft. Zell wanted to do things to Irvine, things he thought guys didn’t normally do to guys. What was normal didn’t seem to matter anymore, as Zell’s fingers did their own exploration.
The brawler’s hands massaged Irvine’s buttocks. The skin was soft, unlike the sniper’s trigger-worn hands. Zell’s hands slid between the folds, as Irvine’s gluteal muscles reflexively contracted. Irvine’s heart was beating faster, his breath was heavier, his moans a little louder.
Zell did not want to just touch and cuddle anymore. He whispered in Irvine’s ear exactly what he wanted to do to him. Irvine rolled onto his stomach, as Zell pressed on top of him. Zell slithered his manhood between the crack of his buttocks, and eventually, with a deep breath and a push, entered the man beneath him. Irvine cried out briefly, but quickly stifled it.
"Am I hurting you?" Zell asked.
"Don’t worry..." Irvine panted, "don’t stop."
Zell wrapped his arms around Irvine’s chest as he continued to bury himself into his friend. He moved slowly and carefully inside his lover. Irvine made short, quiet yelps as Zell pushed into him. The shouts became long, deep groans as Zell found his rhythm. Zell kissed Irvine’s shoulders, and stroked the sniper’s manhood in time with each plunge. They writhed together, in their forbidden dance, with their gasps and the thunder outside as their soundtrack. The lightning synced perfectly with their climax, as their voices crescendoed and Zell spilled himself into his lover.
They laid in bed for a long while, letting their breath slow down and their sweat drip off their skin. They remained in their embrace, as Zell kissed Irvine’s neck and shoulders.
"Irvie?" Zell said.
"Yeah?" Irvine murmured, half-sleepily.
"I love thunderstorms, don’t you?"
Irvine burst out laughing. He turned over, and they kissed. This wasn’t like the old days of the orphanage. This was better.