Final Fantasy VIII: Benefits of Silence
Seifer let himself into the house with the spare key Zell had given him. He didn't bother turning on any of the lights. In the well-kept foyer, the lemon cleaner Zell's mom used made Seifer wince as the smell from his clothes floated up around him. It was worse than outside, where at least the breeze could carry it away.
He climbed the stairs, pulling off his clothes and leaving them as he went directly to the bathroom. He was thankful Zell was the only one home—it was Mrs. Dincht's month to visit friends in FH, so he was safe enough. Seifer knew one day he was going to come in late at night and find himself at the end of the bat he knew Mrs. Dincht kept in her room. As he turned on the shower in the tiny bathroom, he snorted at himself. He wondered what he would say to her: telling her he was Zell's friend would likely get him laughed at, telling her the truth would get him laughed at and then beaten.
Everyone knew Zell had better sense than to get messed up with a failed SeeD and suspected Galbadia spy. Everyone, Seifer thought, but Zell.
The water was like heaven when he stepped under the spray. He leaned against the wall and let the water beat against his neck. Sometimes he thought being Galbadia spy would probably be easier than being a real Esthar spy, and he swore next time Laguna told him that a mission would be easy he would laugh in his face. Five assignments in a row had sucked, and Seifer was tired of it, and surprising enough, tired of lying to Zell.
He didn't move when the curtain of the shower was tugged back and the cool air hit him. Seifer thought if he wasn't so tired, he could probably make an effort and feel the disapproval rolling off Zell. Seifer blamed Quistis for teaching Zell that trick.
Zell said something, but Seifer didn't hear it over the water rushing past his ears. He looked up to Zell's sleepy frown, and then reached out to tug him into the stall.
"Holy shi—Seifer, what the hell, I'm wearing pants."
Seifer pressed him against the tile. "Take them off." Even as he suggested it he was shoving the soaking sweat pants over Zell's hips so they landed in a heap around his ankles.
"You've been home for five minutes and you're already—" Seifer kissed him to shut him up, but Zell pushed back and glared up. "What the hell, do you realize it's been three weeks? And you just come home like it's not a big deal?"
Seifer debated for a moment, then said, "Not now, Zell. Please."
Zell gaped at him and then practically growled when Seifer put his hands on Zell so he could press their hips together. Seifer wanted Zell to get it without him having to say anything else, and he didn't care if that was unfair or if he was playing dirty as he rocked forward. His thumbs smoothed over wet skin, and he was startled by the realization he had missed this. He felt cold suddenly, even with the hot water still falling on him.
Zell blinked and then the annoyance on his face was gone, what Seifer could see of it through his wet hair. He reached up to shove it out of Zell's eyes, not really caring that it was too personal, that it crossed all the lines between them he had drawn himself.
Zell laughed and finally put his hands on Seifer's wrists. "Okay," he said, and reached up to tug Seifer down. Zell still kissed with no finesse at all, but when he stepped out of his wet pants so he could shove Seifer into the wall, Seifer found he didn't mind at all.
He was home.