Text: I love being awesome!Renay ([personal profile] renay) wrote,
@ 2007-06-20 02:10 am UTC
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Entry tags:fanfic: final fantasy viii

[livejournal.com profile] not_cynical, I think this means you totally owe me Baralai/Gippal now. Please deliver soon; they don't have to touch or anything. Well. Maybe a friendly handshake would be nice. There are many levels of mantouching, you know!

I wrote this, Jesus, a year ago. I can't believe that. I showed it to a lot of people, because I was nervous about it (very subtle porn and possibly not very good porn, yay!) got some iffy feedback and then buried it in my WIP folder. Bad form. Anyway, I'm just! Going to go with it! Whatever! Bad porn express, that's me! And then maybe one day I'll finish the 100,000 word fic that goes along with this scene. ;dkfsja;slfja

Summer, Sand and Stars (3,647 words)
Seifer/Zell, PG/not worksafe (I think?)
The biggest changes happen when we least expect them. Also on AO3.

"Wow, wow, wow," Zell said. "Shiny." He was spread out on the sand, looking up at the sky full of stars. Seifer leaned to the side and looked at him.

"Dincht, you're so drunk." It was only partly ruined when he hiccupped and almost fell over.

"You can't talk, anyway!" Zell said, his voice slurring. "The stars are so pretty. I never look at them anymore." He sat up on his elbows. "Did I tell you that I didn't get to go into space? Man that sucked. I would've totally loved to go into space!"

"Empty," Seifer said, rubbing at his face. The night was quiet, the sounds of the summer festival in Balamb having died away an hour ago. Bottles were spread out around them, most of them drained. It was a nice, slow feeling, but he knew he would probably regret it in the morning if he didn't get up and drag himself home. Water would help, and maybe some food. He didn't want to leave yet, though, not a new development when spending time with Zell like he had been for the past two months.

"Of course space is empty, it's like, um," Zell paused. "It's like—we learned it in class, I swear."

"Stop trying to think when you're drunk," Seifer ordered, and put a hand on Zell's forehead to land him on his back again. "You're making my head hurt."

"It's a vaccum!" Zell said happily, ignoring the fact that Seifer had shoved him, and hiccupped. Then he groaned. "Wow, I just got dizzy."

"Told you not to think so hard," Seifer said. "That'll teach you."

"I think I drank too much." His voice was a low, slurred whine, and Seifer should've been annoyed by it. "Why'd you let me?"

"How was I gonna stop you, genius?" Seifer flopped back on the soft sand. It had long ago gone cool and at this rate he was going to have sand everywhere in his t-shirt.

"I dunno, you could've distracted me somehow, you're pretty smart," Zell said. "You could've called me names, you're good at that." He paused. "Except you haven't been doing it much lately. Ha! We're totally friends now, right?" He raised his arms a bit and then let them fall, one of them draping across Seifer's thigh.

"We're not friends," Seifer said, eyes closing. "I don't like you at all."

Instead of a comeback, he felt Zell move. It was slow and Seifer wasn't worried. Zell was too drunk to hit any sort of target—he didn't bother opening his eyes until Zell spoke again.

"But you do," Zell said, voice almost lost in the crashing of the waves on the beach.

"What?" Seifer opened his eyes to look at Zell's blurry face.

"Like me, I mean." Zell grinned as he climbed to rest on his hands and knees. "You totally like me."

"You're setting yourself up for heartbreak." The remark didn't have the heat behind it he usually dished out. He was too tired.

"Mmm, maybe," Zell said, and then to Seifer's horror, he climbed over him, warm and firm and definitely too enticing.

Seifer just raised an eyebrow, kept his breathing steady. "What are you doing?" It was almost comical. Zell's face was flushed, eyes out of focus, leaning over him with his goofy grin plastered on. It would be totally worth it if Zell fell asleep on him like a few weeks ago. Seifer almost grinned at the memory. It had been worth the bad movie they had watched for the chance steal to Zell's pants and leave him in the middle of the floor passed out.

"I'm totally—watch—" Zell raised a hand and only managed to collapse onto Seifer, both of them gasping with it. "Oops."

Seifer sighed as Zell wiggled around and said, "Congratulations on making a fool of yourself. Get off."

Zell simply raised his head. "Dude, I am so drunk."

"Well, I'm not carrying you home," Seifer bucked his hips to try to dislogde Zell, but realized that was a bad idea—a very bad idea. "Also, I'm not a bed."

"I dunno." Zell started humming and then to Seifer's horror, he wriggled into him. "Pretty comf—um—comfo—" He looked at Seifer so sadly it was almost enough to send Seifer off the edge into laughter. "I can't remember the word."

Seifer snorted. "Comfortable."

"That's it!" Zell said. "Um, I forgot what I was doing."

"Well, I never knew so you're still ahead of me." Seifer tilted his head back to look up at the stars. The moon was higher now, the beach bathed in the light. Neither of them moved for a few minutes and Seifer wondered how far he was going to let this go. It wasn't as if he was stupid—weeks of this strange friendship with someone like Zell hadn't been in the plans, which were—survival, Seifer thought. Zell had come once, fought with him, left, and the cycle had repeated until he had finally started ignoring Seifer's vitriol and staying, for dinner, to watch a movie, to play cards with him and Raijin.

And it was apparently to the end of the situation Seifer found himself in currently, with the stupid kid draped all over him, drunk and warm and very distracting.

"Oh! I remember now." One of Zell's hands touched the bare skin revealed by the arch of Seifer's shirt. Seifer could feel the sand on his bare back as Zell's fingers crawled under the material, sent it climbing up Zell's forearm. "You totally like me."

Seifer didn't react to the touch, but it was hard. Zell, he had learned very quickly, was tactile, even more so when he dumped a gallon of alcohol down his throat. "If the definition of like has changed to barely tolerate, then sure. I like you."

Zell giggled—Seifer wasn't going to forget that anytime soon—and then straddled him completely, swift and smooth and totally unexpected. Seifer could only gape up at him as he moved, confident and sure and where the hell had this come from? Zell smiled down at him. "See, you admitted it. Seifer likes me." He was halfway singing it into the quiet air around them.

"Dincht, get off."

"Wait!" Zell's hands went to Seifer's chest, pinning him down and Zell wasn't a slouch in the muscle department, Seifer knew that firsthand. As soon as he had the thought he regretted it, because it did no good to think of those things when Zell was pressing against him.

"What?" His voice higher than he would've liked. He was not going to whine, even if he was under the influence and possibly panicking a little that every lecture he had given himself over not being attracted to Dincht was about to fly out the window.

"I was about to say something!" Zell said. Some of his hair was drooping over his forehead into his eyes, but he didn't bat it away. "I was about to say something important. What was it?" He sat back on Seifer's legs, a small reprieve from the heat he had been spreading and looked as thoughtful, even though he was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

"I'm sure whatever it was would've displayed just how deep a thinker you really are," Seifer said. "Really, stop sexually harassing me; you're drunk."

"You're drunk, too!" Zell's eyes went wide. Seifer flushed as Zell's face suddenly changed and he grinned. "Man. I'm so dumb," he said.

Seifer laughed. "Is that what you forgot? How'd you manage that?"

Seifer sucked in a breath when Zell batted him in the stomach with his fist. "Shut up, you ass, that's not what I forgot." He huffed and moved back up, framing Seifer's head between his hands as he pressed them into the sand. "I was gonna say that, um." Their faces were close, Zell's loose bangs brushing Seifer's forehead and Seifer wanted to shove him away, but knew he wouldn't because it was just another way of giving in.

"Well, spit it out." It was a torn feeling, wanting Zell to back off, wanting him to keep going. Seifer had been imagining this scenario for weeks and here it was come to call—romantic, of all things. Moonlight, crashing waves, a beach—he was inside a cliché.

"Okay, okay, you're totally a tease," Zell said. "Like the worst kind, ?cause I don't—I don't think you know you're doing it." Seifer could only stare—he had no retort. Zell shifted and the tickle of the edge of his shirt over Seifer's skin was a huge distraction. Zell made a noise and continued, "And—and it'll probably never work because man, you're like, um, im—im—hard to deal with sometimes."

"Are you proposing to me?" Seifer asked, half-amused and half-terrified. "If so, I think you're confused about the set up. Also, no."

"Oh, shut up for a minute," Zell said. "I'm trying to tell you I want to have sex with you and you just keep distracting me like crazy and you know, maybe I'll change my mind and we can just stay huge lame virgins forever because you couldn't stop insulting me—"

"What did you call me?" Seifer said, interrupting him, even though his brain was twisting around both parts of what Zell had just said, refusing to believe either of them.

Zell stopped and looked down. The smile that spread slowly across his face was one Seifer never liked seeing because it always meant Zell was about to— "Oh, give me a break," he said. "If you tell me you're not I'll know you're a liar."

Seifer rolled his eyes, shoving away the thoughts of Rinoa that flooded his head because he didn't want to think about it, not now and not here. "Fine, I won't."

Zell shifted his weight to lift one of his hands. "Oh, right, I'm supposed to believe you." He snorted as if Seifer had given him a vehement denial. "It's why you freak out if anyone touches you."

Seifer rolled his eyes. "You're touching me right now."

"But—but—that doesn't apply to me," Zell said. "I have that thing, that—um, I dunno what it is, that thing, oh—." Seifer hadn't missed that Zell's hand was barely touching the edge of his pants, fingertips barely skimming over skin. "—where I get to do whatever I want because you've tortured me, oh right, forever."

Seifer ears were buzzing, and he still didn't move when Zell's fingers dipped lower, under fabric and along skin no one else had touched before. "Torture is extreme," he said, eyes on Zell's. "Fair fights, it doesn't count as torture when you ask me to kick your ass."

"Tell me no," Zell demanded suddenly, eyes no longer blurry. "You can tell me no like you do about almost everything else, right now."

Seifer stared up at him. He should say no, shove Zell away, go back home and stop whatever craziness had led him to spending almost every night in Zell's company. He had snuck in, gotten under Seifer's defenses by being oblivious—and Seifer supposed he wasn't much better to have let it happen. It hadn't been aimed for, the wanting; Seifer was tired of wanting things that were apparently out of his reach. But he hadn't seen this coming at all. He didn't understand how he could've missed this.

"You're not going to use me for—"

"Oh, give me a—" Zell moved his hand again and Seifer sucked in a breath this time as the pain from the pinch subsided. "I will so kick your ass. I mean, do you know who I am, I totally helped save the world and stuff?" He brought his face close. "Why the heck would I use you for sex, anyway? You're a lot of fucking work, Seifer!" The hand that had pinched him relaxed and withdrew and it wasn't like Seifer was going to kid himself. He knew what Zell was offering.

"You say it as if you're not a walking headache."

"I haven't heard you say no." Zell ignored him and suddenly there were buttons popping out of their holes as Zell tugged on Seifer's pants. His mouth fell open even as Zell flushed above him, eyes watery but determined.

"You haven't been paying attention," Seifer said, almost breathless. "I think if I was going to say no I would've done it already."

Zell's face changed with his whole body, going from tense to relaxed as his lips curved up. "Oh, awesome!" he said and then Seifer could only blink as he vanished from above him. He gripped the edges of Seifer's pants and yanked them down hard. There was sand in awkward places Seifer wasn't going to think about right now because he couldn't—not with Zell nuzzling him at the curve of his hip, hot breath on warm skin. He was humming, and it figured that he wouldn't shut up no matter what he was doing.

Seifer's hips jerked involuntarily up when Zell pressed them down with his hands, all pretense gone as he squeezed his eyes shut. He still wanted to say no, cold and hard and then walk away from this but he made no noise and no move to get up as Zell laughed, breath hot against Seifer's skin.

"I was so right—totally, totally right," Zell said and Seifer's eyes popped open when he felt light kisses on his stomach. He raised his head to look down at surreal scene between his legs. Zell looked like the best porn Seifer had ever seen and he had seen too much living with Raijin in Garden. He flopped back down, eyes full of stars and heart beating fast.

"I never said you weren't," Seifer said, sucking in a breath as Zell, for crying out—licked him, straight line down his stomach. "Torture—," he paused, voice breaking, losing his train of thought when Zell pressed his thumbs into the soft skin of his hips, "—I bet you have no idea what you're doing."

Seifer didn't expect Zell to say, "Nope! But—um, it can't be too hard, I mean—" and the sharp comeback Seifer had prepared was lost as Zell licked him again and Seifer's eyes crossed as he gasped.

"Ha! You like me, you like me," Zell said, and Seifer wanted to say that it could be Leonhart doing what he was doing and Seifer wouldn't care, but it would be a lie.

"I'd like you a lot more if you would shut up," Seifer said, and his voice was hoarse, and it should have mortified him but he was sure whatever was left of his self-control was spread across the sand like the bottles they had emptied together. His hands had fisted in the sand beside him as Zell shifted and this was torture—it was a sick thought that maybe it had been planned, a humiliation, but it was just another thing that wasn't Zell's style.

"I like you, too." It was a whisper, like saying it too loud would spook him. Seifer thought that was a stupid thought to begin with, but then Zell slid his mouth around Seifer's cock. Seifer stopped thinking about anything else but the fact that Zell had his mouth and hands on him and was pinning him down as he tried to arch off the sand. Seifer dug his fingers into the sand further and he wanted to move, surge up, give in more than he already had.

Seifer tried to think of everything that was wrong with what was happening, the kid who he had tormented and teased and made life hell for over years, over him, his mouth so hot that Seifer almost couldn't stand it. He was noisy and sloppy and not gentle enough and fuck, Seifer knew it shouldn't be half as good as this, not with Zell. Seifer didn't have the luck for any of his firsts to be good.

But it was with Zell, who hadn't pitied him or forgiven him, but accepted him. His weight was familiar and comfortable as he hummed again and his tongue did something that made Seifer's vision blur.

Seifer could hear the waves on the beach, background noise to the sounds he was making himself, not-quite groaning in the back of his throat. Zell shifted again to a new angle, and Seifer could feel Zell against his leg, through his pants that hadn't made it off. The fact that Zell had wanted this, wanted him, was enough to make Seifer cry out in earnest, arch hard enough to break the hold Zell had on him as he came, stars in the sky melting together as Zell shoved him back down.

Zell laughed and pressed his fingertips into Seifer's thighs. Seifer tried to catch his breath as he looked at Zell, his mouth wet and lips swollen, hair mused, dirty in a way Seifer thought he would never see. Zell grinned back, cheeks pink as he licked his bottom lip, at once totally innocent and absolutely filthy and said, "See? Not that hard."

Seifer was about to open his mouth and say something—but when he did he had no words, and if he had had them they would've been lost on the cool breeze off the ocean. Zell pressed open-mouth kisses to his stomach, slow and lazy, eyes half-open. It was even more intimate than what had just happened somehow. Seifer pulled his hands from the sand and brushed them off on his shirt. He wanted to sink them into the soft-looking hair on the back of Zell's head or push him away or even push him down so he could cover him. Instead, he let his arms falls back to rest on the sand as Zell wriggled between his legs, head pillowed on Seifer's bare skin.

"You're not going to sleep," Seifer said.

"But it's cozy."

"You won't be the one locked up for public nudity." The hazy feeling from the alcohol was fading away, but he was surprised that the only thing he regretted was the fact he had sand in places sand should never be. Trust Zell to get horny on a damn beach.

"Mmm, you're warm." Zell didn't move. "I'll stay like this, I so will, promise, cross my heart—" he yawned, wide and loud and Seifer rolled his eyes, "—and I will so protect your pub—yeah, that honor. So will."

"Want me to stuff sand down the back of your pants and show you how it feels?"

Zell jerked up. "No!" The look Seifer gave him was just like the look he got whenever he knocked something over, or hogged the couch, or ate all the popcorn. Seifer was rewarded with him finally getting up, frowning and grumbling.

"Finally," Seifer said, although it hadn't been long enough for his heart to slow down and just as he was reaching down Zell grabbed and flipped him, face first into even more sand and Seifer was going to kill him.

"Ha! You don't have that much sand on you." Zell muttered something more, but it wasn't loud enough. Seifer flushed because hell, he was lying on a beach with Zell brushing sand off his ass—this was most embarrassing moment he'd had in the last few weeks. It was fine; he could always pay Zell back later. With interest.

"Let go," Seifer said, jerking his arm out from under himself to push up.

Zell snorted and somehow managed to lift Seifer's hips to drag his pants up himself, which only resulted in Seifer face first in sand again. He was going to break something of Zell's, something vital. "Look, there, all better!" Zell said, and Seifer was being manhandled again as Zell flipped him to his back and—Seifer blinked at him as Zell flopped along his side.

"What are you doing?" He didn't need to ask; It was obvious that Zell was shoving a thigh between Seifer's, a hand fisting in his sandy shirt. Seifer had known already Zell was one to cuddle. It was just one more surreal thing he never thought he would experience. He sat up, ignoring Zell's protests.

Zell opened one eye to look at him. "I'm tired."

"Not much stamina," Seifer said, smirking down at him.

"Oh, whatever, I'm—" Zell flushed and Seifer marveled that he could still be embarrassed after everything. "I'm so drunk, man." Then he looked concerned. "I swear, don't be all harsh and stuff, next time will totally be better and—maybe less drinks, I think, what was in those, anyway—"

"Next time," Seifer said, raising an eyebrow. Zell's eyes were closed again and he rolled to lie on his back, spread across the sand like an invitation. A minute or two went by and when he spoke again his voice was soft and thick with sleep.

"Tomorrow, I swear it'll be better." His voice trailed off, and Seifer spent a few minutes flabbergasted by that, wondering what Zell had thought tonight was. He didn't even know what tonight was, except—apparently Zell had decided for both of them. Seifer watched the slow rise and fall of Zell's chest and decided he was okay with that.

Not that he'd even tell him, Seifer thought, even as he watched Zell fall asleep, jaw slack and hair draping over his face.

He sat up a long time, his hip warm against Zell's, quiet and for the first time in a long time, content.


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[identity profile] chaosraven.livejournal.com
2007-06-20 09:22 am UTC (link)
<3 I love it, even if there is sand in unmentionable places.

It was fine; he could always pay Zell back later. With internet.

Probably the best typo ever. >D

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[identity profile] delladella.livejournal.com
2007-06-20 12:26 pm UTC (link)
Probably the best typo ever. >D

God, I lawled.

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[identity profile] bottle-of-shine.livejournal.com
2007-06-20 05:39 pm UTC (link)
I KNOW. I LAUGHED. SO HARD.

I love my brain hard. I'm debating on leaving that in this copy just for the lulz.

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[identity profile] delladella.livejournal.com
2007-06-20 12:22 pm UTC (link)
Yeah, I remember this! To ignore the fact of sand on a beach might suit people dedicated to porn above other elements of fiction, but it would do a disservice to realism. Sand. On a beach. Come on. Not everything in this world is sexy, and sometimes awkward is sexy, if not just humorous.

I’ve always liked that you maintain a sense of humor in your work, especially in consideration of characters known to have a sense of humor. It’s not just a choice; it’s appropriate.

Moonlight, crashing waves, a beach—he was inside a cliché.

There are a lot of good lines to be had here, but this observation struck me. I think it works well with Seifer’s cynical analysis of the world around him—and the strange and unthinkable (to him, at least) ways that Zell can disrupt everything of which he presumes to be so certain. This line really seems to encapsulate the moment; things Seifer’s written off have potential to be real.

"Tell me no," Zell demanded suddenly, eyes no longer blurry. "You can tell me no like you do about almost everything else, right now."

RAWR. Also: hoo, burn. Called out! The dynamic between these two characters is entertaining. As much as Zell cracks me up in this piece, I have to say it’s somehow Seifer who steals the show. It makes sense, though; he’s the character going through a crucial change here. Also? His snarky dialogue made me laugh.

Write and grow. Don’t let people, well-meaning as they be, curb your growth as a writer because they have opinions about what is proper or sexy in porn. And, to me, that’s the thing: what you’ve written here isn’t porn, isn’t smut, but fiction with a theme. Good on you.

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[identity profile] bottle-of-shine.livejournal.com
2007-06-26 06:44 am UTC (link)
Well, hmm. The point of the sand is that it's awkward and unexpected. I mean, if Zell had had a blanket with him, I guess I just think Seifer would have been like, "what. no." This way, neither of them know it's going to happen. They get drunk, Zell gets brave, Seifer gets resigned to resisting, ta-da! Sex on a beach.

(sand in awkward places, zell in awkward places? Seifer doesn't think about Zell in terms of love, and that's as awkward as it gets, for me thinking about him and Zell together, at least initially.)

*flails* Thank you for reading and leaving such kind feedback.

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I AM SO SORRY THIS SUCKS ASS AND IS OOC
[identity profile] not-cynical.livejournal.com
2007-06-20 05:23 pm UTC (link)
But I kinda walked in from school, read this, and then started writing at 2:30. It is now 6:15 and I want it to go away and die. Um. Enjoy?
Baralai was sneaky enough to be an Al Bhed - always had been, really, but Gippal had never really thought about it until the end of their speech, when Baralai grabbed his arm. His timing couldn't have been better; they'd just preached hope and unity to the people of Spira, and the leaders of the Machine Faction and New Yevon getting into an argument would obviously do that message a lot of good.

"You know I'm not Shuyin." Baralai wasn't smiling, not even for the crowd, and the hand gripping Gippal's arm was shaking. He didn't even look at Nooj; his eyes were on Gippal like he was willing him to say yes. "You know that."

Gippal forced a laugh, slinging an arm around Baralai's shoulders. "Of course I do."

He almost felt bad when he felt Baralai relax a little at the gesture. He felt worse when Lai looked over at Nooj, and the Maevyn nodded.

"We both know that." Nooj's smile wasn't exactly comforting - it was his little deathseeker grin, the one that didn't look right without a weapon. "You wouldn't be here if we didn't."

***


"It's either the pyreflies, or we're too late."

Gippal shook his head. He knew what Nooj was talking about - he could see the flickering shape around Baralai's body just as well as Nooj could. But they weren't too late. They still had time.

He didn't even realise he'd said that aloud until Nooj looked at him. "How can you be so sure?"

For a minute, Gippal just looked at him. They'd tried to speak to Baralai before, but it was like he hadn't even seen them. He was seeing them well enough now though - well enough to shoot at them at least.

And that was part of how Gippal knew they weren't too late.

"We're not dead yet. He's been aiming to miss."

Nooj chuckled humourlessly, gesturing with his good hand at the blood soaking into Gippal's sleeve where a bullet had clipped him. "His aim was worse than I thought."

Gippal clapped Nooj's shoulder - the real one, not the metal one. "Forget it Nooj. He knows dying'd just make you happy."

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And. Showing people a year ago counts as Beta-ing. CHEAT.
[identity profile] not-cynical.livejournal.com
2007-06-20 05:28 pm UTC (link)
***


Gippal did know - he wouldn't have said it if he didn't, he wouldn't have helped drag Baralai out of the Farplane if he hadn't believed it.

And if Baralai had still been Shuyin, none of them would still be here.

It was just - well, Nooj didn't seem to sleep, so he'd always be all right, he wouldn't wake up from nightmares where they were always too late, where they lost. But Gippal had to sleep sometime, and that's what he dreamed about. That, and reaching Baralai only to find he - it wasn't him. They'd been too late, and Shuyin wasn't a flicker around him. Shuyin just was.

He might've mentioned it to someone - anybody, even Cid's girl, because even if Rikku was an idiot sometimes, she would understand. They'd borrowed her from the new missing-Yuna-and-Doctor-P Gullwings, and she was still waking up in the middle of the night muttering about Vegnagun and Shuyin and too close.

Then again, Gippal was an ass sometimes, but he wasn't gonna tell someone with their own nightmares about the ones he was having.

Besides, the Machine Faction was suddenly taking up a lot of his time - the Gullwings had done a number on his Faction's favourite machina, and he was suddenly filled with the need to tell them exactly how stupid they were if they thought they could build something like that without him, and if those parts had been put together like that before Rikku and the others dismantled it then the lot of them were all going back to Bikanel Desert to learn about machina parts from scratch. And then there were a lot of orders to be filled. And then he had to go out to the desert himself because Nhadala was coming to Djose.

Basically, he didn't seem to be spending a lot of time near a commsphere. And when he did, he always made sure he was busy enough that someone else had to answer it for him - especially if it was a message from Bevelle.

Eventually, Rikku dropped down onto the sand next to him and started to help him unearth what looked like an Attack Assembly part, her mouth set in a not-entirely-happy line. Gippal didn't ask what was up - he had a feeling she'd tell him anyway.

All she said though, eyes on the rusty metal they were dragging out, was that Baralai wanted him to call when he wasn't busy.

Gippal laughed, blowing his hair out of his face as they slid the Assembly onto the hover. He'd forgotten what it was like not to live somewhere with lightning in the air - or at least somewhere where his hair didn't need any help to defy gravity. A couple of weeks in the desert though and he ended up with it all sticking to his face, something that usually cracked Rikku up. "He'll be waiting a while then - didn't you tell him how busy we were?"

Rikku nodded, and gave him a look that she must've learnt off Nhadala - the look she gave him when he had a job she thought he ought to be doing and he was dragging his feet. "I think you should. He looks even worse than you do."

And Gippal was left staring at her as she clambered onto the hover herself, trying to shout "What's that supposed to mean?" loud enough for her not to be able to pretend she couldn't hear him.

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[identity profile] not-cynical.livejournal.com
2007-06-20 05:31 pm UTC (link)
***


Baralai's hands were steady, Gippal's weren't. That was the wrong way round, wasn't it? Gippal was the one used to guns, the one used to machina - Baralai wasn't, and he was usually the one who got emotional while he was holding a weapon.

But for all Gippal knew, Baralai wasn't even in there any more.

The pyrefly-shadow was flicking around Baralai's body - now his sleeves were blue and purple instead of green, now there were gloved hands cradling the gun, now there was blond hair where it should be white, and anger on an unfamiliar face instead of the blank emptiness on Baralai's.

Nooj was coming - limping down the path as fast as he could manage, trying to get close enough to shoot. He just needed a little more time, time Gippal didn't have if the look on Shuyin's face was anything to go by.

"You were careless, coming down here on your own."

Gippal smirked automatically, trying not to let the shaking get any worse. It sounded like Baralai - but sounded like someone else as well. Two voices. Shuyin's louder than Baralai's. "I can watch my own back."

"It's not your back you should be worried about."

Gippal flung himself to one side, firing at the hand that Baralai'd been holding the gun with. But Lai had always been fast - fast enough to jerk out of the way and shoot at the space where Gippal's head had been before he rolled aside.

And then Baralai was gone, and Gippal was left to wait for Nooj with the image of Baralai staring at him - eyes wide and horrified and undeniably
him - for company.

***



Gippal didn't call.

The nightmares didn't get any better.

***


"What are you doing?" Nooj asked without opening his eyes. "You're supposed to be on watch."

"And you're supposed to be getting some rest. Shut up and sleep, Noojster."

Nooj opened his eyes and looked at Gippal over the top of his glasses until the blond sighed and pocketed the three bullets he'd taken out of his gun.

"We're going through ammo pretty fast. If we catch up with Baralai and we don't have any left..."

Nooj studied him for a moment longer, then leaned back against the rock and closed his eyes. "Good plan."

Gippal prowled round their not-quite campsite, thinking that he should have expected that reaction from a deathseeker.


***

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Last part, I swear. Next comment will be on the fic itself, I swear.
[identity profile] not-cynical.livejournal.com
2007-06-20 05:35 pm UTC (link)
If it had been the other way around, if Gippal was the one lurking in someone else's office (or workshop; when Gippal did it, it was usually a workshop that everyone thought he couldn't get into) to scare the hell out of them when they showed up, he'd have put his feet up on the desk and started flicking through whatever looked most interesting.

(Or tinkering with any machina that'd been left lying around - paperwork was Nhadala's job.)

And he would have waited for them to show up of their own free will, instead of sending someone - Rikku - to lure them to him with some story about an emergency.

Then again, Baralai was sneaky, and he was supposed to have manners, so when Gippal stormed in, his feet were on the floor and the only thing it looked like he'd been flicking through was Gippal's sketchbook. The one that had ideas for machina mixed up with sketches of his friends that he'd deny ever drawing.

Baralai placed the sketchbook down on the desk with deliberate precision - managing not to knock over any of the untidy stacks of paper or scrap metal while he did it - and rose. He was wearing his Praetor-face, the professionally determined look he wore while he was going about temple business or holding people at gunpoint.

Gippal was already turning back to look at Rikku when she slammed the door shut in his face.

And locked it.

Behind him - and Gippal turned around pretty fast, because of the first things an Al Bhed learnt, right after which wire was live and which end of the gun you pointed at someone, was that you didn't turn your back on a room, no matter who was in it - Baralai said "Are you done avoiding me?"

"I wasn't." Gippal started, folding his arms behind his head. "We've been busy - I heard you've not had it too easy yourself."

Baralai's back was to the window, which meant Gippal couldn't see his expression. He'd been spending too much time in the temple if he was using tricks like that. "I've been speaking to Rikku."

"Oh."

That... probably wasn't good. Rikku had the room next to his - that was how he knew she'd not been sleeping right, so she probably knew the same about him. And Rikku was the one he usually sent in his place when it came to messages from Bevelle.

"She's under the impression that we need to talk," Baralai rubbed at his face with his hands, sounding tired. "Although I'm not sure I know what she thinks we need to talk about."

Gippal stepped forwards, and Baralai lowered his hands to look at him. Once he was close enough that he wasn't being dazzled by the permanent lightning flash outside, he could see the shadows under Baralai's eyes, and the exhaustion on his face. It made him feel old - Baralai looked as bad as he felt, which was saying something considering that Gippal had been spending his time digging and building since Vegnagun, trying to work himself to a level of exhaustion where he wouldn't dream.

"Don't give me that look," Baralai ordered, sounding scarily like Nooj. "You don't look any better."

Gippal snorted and leaned against his desk. A few papers that were undoubtedly important and probably overdue scattered across the floor. "If Rikku wants us to talk, we're not getting out of here until we do, you know that?"

A ghost of a smile flitted across Baralai's face. "I believe it was mentioned after I asked for her help - when it was too late to stop her."

Gippal shook his head, folding his arms across his chest. Typical. When he got out of here, he was gonna have to have words with Rikku - although whether they were going to be grateful or not depended on Baralai. "So. Let's talk."

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[identity profile] dior-anghel.livejournal.com
2007-07-16 08:45 pm UTC (link)
What the HELL, man? How could you have not been a writer before? XD Insane.

This is wonderful - the sex is hot (*fans self*), the boys are in character, the description is so good I can really see this all happening in my mind's eye, and my GOSH, drunk Zell is really fucking cute. =D

Your writing puts that 'LifeisgoodhowwouldIsurvivewithoutthis?' smile on my face. (You know the one?) The smile usually reserved only for Scribblemoose and Rainjoyous. ^^

Also, regarding your drabble sentences: (the comment page for it won't load) they're wonderful! Every one tells a story on its own, and I can get a sense of the background from just a few words. Some of them have more emotion than other people have in entire drabbles.

(Also, LOVE your drunk!Irvine/Seifer birthday fic. Squealed very much.)

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[identity profile] bottle-of-shine.livejournal.com
2007-07-20 07:38 pm UTC (link)
Hee! Wow, thank you so much. If you keep it up, my ego is going to take over LJ. I am pretty much floored! I'm really glad you like all my work. Thank you for letting me know, especially about the older stuff. ♥

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