Author: Lipstickcat
Pairing: Squall/Seifer
Rating: Nc-17, though not for sex
Warnings: This is a nasty, nasty fic. Death, violence, insane Squall. Don�t read this if you�re in a good mood.
Disclaimer: They don�t belong to me, I don�t think they�d want to belong to me if this is what I do to them.
Notes: This is the result of many things: Insomnia, having to watch my pet rat being put down, discovering that Darren Hayes is doing a concert virtually on my doorstep, but has already sold out, a boyfriend who won�t quit snoring�.
I have to defend Squall in this: not getting any sleep can make a person very irrational. This was actually written at three in the morning, when I had to get up to stop myself from doing something similar.
***
Seifer was snoring. That in itself wasn�t so unusual, Squall was sure that he probably even snored himself, on the rare occasion that he actually slept. This snore was particularly annoying though; there were long moments of silence when Squall dared to hope that it had stopped, he would feel himself drift off, his mind finally shutting down and giving way to the padded, fluffy dream world. Then a snore would wrench him back with a jolt and leave him staring out into the thick darkness of the room, blindly watching shapes that weren�t really there.
It was a sound that he�d never heard before. Eight months, and still Seifer was making new and increasingly irritating noises in his sleep. It was a wet rumble, as if the snore itself wasn�t enough, the sleeping blond had to blow bubbles in the back of his throat as well. It seemed to mock Squall, highlighting the fact that he was still awake, even though there was nothing he wanted more than to sleep.
He�d kicked, hit, prodded and pushed Seifer for half the night in the hope that he�d roll over onto his side, but his partner had a stubborn streak, even in his sleep. He wasn�t budging. All it resulted in was a sleepy discontented moan and the sheets being jerked from him in some half awake expression of anger. Then he would settle back down and start to snore again.
A particularly gurgling snore made Squall sit bolt upright in bed in frustration. He squinted down at the sleeping figure, hazy in the predawn light. Emotion blossomed in sharp bursts of adrenaline in his chest. His body heaved as he forced himself not to cry. He was tired and irrational. His eyes ached just being open and his eyelids were heavy, but he hated shutting them in the imitation of sleep. Oily insect-like shapes crawled through his restricted vision when he shut his eyes. If only he could just sleep, then he knew that they would go away.
He�d have dark purple bags under his eyes in the morning. That thought alone made another sob shudder through him. He knew that he was being absurd even caring, but that didn�t make it any easier.
Seifer�s open mouth parted further as another halting, rumbling gasp was sucked through it. Squall�s hand shot out in a burst of uncontrollable anger, but before he had finished whatever he was going to do, (hit Seifer? The mattress? The air?), an overwhelming sense of calm engulfed him. Then he was sinking and drowning in it. It made his limbs feel airy, like they weren�t his. He felt detached, separated from the world by an invisible force. The anger and adrenaline were still there, but it was duller, although that somehow made it seem to hurt him more.
He placed his palm over Seifer�s mouth. The scarred blond woke instantly and sleepily muttered something to himself. The sound was muffled, but it was unintelligible anyway. Dry lips moved against the soft pads and deep creases of the cupped hand above them in accidental kisses. A wet tongue darted out to moisten the chapped skin, tickling Squall�s palm as it did.
Then Seifer turned his head to the side, snuggling back into the comfort of the pillow. The snoring had stopped for now, but Squall knew that the silence wouldn�t last. Even the sound of his lover�s soft regular breathing irked him. He knew that as soon as he lay back down and began to drift off, Seifer would roll his head so that he was facing the ceiling and it would all start again, louder than ever.
Squall�s hold tightened over Seifer�s mouth, forming a seal, skin against skin. His thumb and index finger pinched his nostrils closed. It only took a matter of seconds for Seifer to react. First, his head rolled from side to side, trying to shake away whatever was obstructing his breathing. Then his body twitched as he tried harder to suck in air through the blocked orifices.
He awoke fully with a start, frightened without knowing why. Squall leaned forward and looked down at him from above. Seifer�s eyes were wide, fear and confusion making the blues beautifully incandescent, even in the surrounding grey of the night. Or maybe it was Squall�s memory or imagination painting in colours that he couldn�t see. He smiled down to Seifer, the expression full of adoration.
Seifer began to move, not understanding what was happening. Before he could lift his arms, Squall had swiftly shifted positions, straddling Seifer and effectively trapping his arms beneath the sheets by kneeling on them. The brunette leaned all his weight on them, crushing his knees against the delicate underside of Seifer�s elbows. Sharp pain shot through Seifer, making him want to cry out, but he couldn�t because he was gagged.
He swallowed dryly and searched Squall�s face for an explanation, but there was none, only a disturbing mixture of malice and unconditional love. Squall stared at him down the length of his bare arm, which was twisted around to hold his grasp over Seifer�s mouth and nose. His eyes were misty and far away, his expression contorted by conflicting emotions that he could barely feel.
Seifer began to struggle then. Horror struck him as he realised that this wasn�t a game or a dream. This was for real. Squall wasn�t going to stop until he had suffocated him. Already, his lungs felt like they were going to burst. The feeling of a massive nothingness, that seemed heavy and obstructing, filled his chest and throat. His ears felt like they were going to pop from the pressure. He tried to cough, to choke, to do anything that would result in him being able to breath again, but he couldn�t.
His body writhed beneath Squall, his head thrashing from side to side. Squall leaned forward, balancing the distribution of his weight between his legs and his arm. His palm pressed down harder against Seifer�s mouth, making it impossible for him to even try to bite him. His other hand ran softly along the side of Seifer�s face, trailing through beads of sweat that were beginning to break out on his soft skin. He clucked, tutted and cajoled Seifer in a murmuring voice, as if trying to soothe an upset child, before placing his free hand over his forehead and pushing him down hard into the feather pillow.
Seifer would have gasped if he could. His mind raced, echoing the thrum of his heart in his chest, but he couldn�t understand or find reasoning. It was getting harder think and movement was becoming too much of an effort. His struggling, which had been growing increasingly weaker, stopped suddenly. He resigned himself to a fate that he still didn�t comprehend. His last clear thought was; �At least it�s Squall.� Although, exactly what that meant, he didn�t know.
Squall sensed the change in the person beneath him and shifted so that he was no longer resting all his weight on Seifer�s arms. The hand that wasn�t covering his mouth slipped onto the pillow to play with ends of blond hair. He leaned forward and the icy tip of his necklace touched against Seifer�s still chest. His hair framed his face as he cocked his head to the side curiously.
Even in the dim light he could see that his lover�s face was devoid of colour and expression. His skin was drained and pasty. Lifeless eyes stared back at him, wide and glistening with tears that didn�t have time to be shed.
It was another ten minutes before Squall finally moved. He removed his hand slowly, as if he was unsure whether the body beneath him would explode back into life again or not. The area around Seifer�s mouth was darkly bruised from the force with which Squall had held his hand over it. A thin trickle of blood slipped between swollen blue tinted lips and slid down his chin.
Noiselessly, Squall climbed off Seifer�s prone body and lay down in bed. He leaned in to kiss his love, barely noticing the metallic taste on the unresponsive mouth. Then he rolled over and wrapped the sheets around himself; the usual shared warmth of body heat was fading as Seifer�s body cooled and rigormortis set in.
Silence. At last. He shut his eyes and sleep welcomed him like an old friend.
He dreamed of the horrors that the morning would bring.