DISCLAIMER: Zell, Squall, not mine. If anyone says they are, they’re lying, lying I tell ya!

Peace

Squall woke with the singing of steel echoing around his head. He lay perfectly still, breathing heavily and waiting for the sting to leave his eyes, which were shut tight against the bloody scene that had been playing through his head. He shivered, despite the mild weather of Balamb nights, and the heat from the body sprawled gracelessly across the bed beside him.

Encouraged by the arm flung across his stomach and the soft murmuring in his ear Squall opened his eyes, and turned his head to look at Zell, asleep next to him. He shifted onto his side and brushed a lock of sun-yellow hair away from Zell’s tanned face.

Sometimes Zell could look so young and innocent that Squall would think himself sick for allowing their relationship to become what it had. But then Zell would wake up, and Squall would see those knowing blue eyes and that predatory grin, or an enemy would approach, and Zell would move in for the kill.

Squall wondered which he preferred, Zell the innocent? Or Zell the bloodthirsty mercenary, who lived for the adrenaline induced high of combat.

The second Squall could understand. After all, he was the commander of several hundred such mercenaries, and his bloodlust was arguably more powerful than theirs.

“But that’s not how it should be.” He whispered it as he ran a finger along the thin white scar on Zell’s cheek. He had gotten that fighting a Galbadian soldier. He pushed another strand of hair away from Zell’s face and placed a kiss on the sleeping man’s forehead.

An eyelid fluttered open, the dark pupil sleepily adjusting to the poor light of the pre-dawn inside the ring of its blue, sleep-misted iris. The eye closed and a smile pulled at the corners of Zell’s lips.

“I wish you’d do that when I’m awake enough to remember.” His voice came slow and hoarse, and he nuzzled into Squall’s chest as sleep reclaimed him.

Carefully, Squall removed the arm Zell had put about him and silently slipped out from the bed, and went into the bathroom. He filled the washbasin with cold water and splashed his face and looked at himself in the water-flecked mirror. That speculation on Zell’s innocence reminded him of the dream.

It had been a week since he had had it last, and the first time it had happened he hadn’t been able to look at Zell for two days, he went on a mission so Zell wouldn’t think anything was wrong. He felt ashamed, as if he really had attempted to kill Zell, but Zell couldn’t remember, and then the guilt hit Squall again, for not telling him. But what good would that do?

He splashed himself with the water again then towelled his face and hands dry. Back in the bedroom Squall picked the clothes he’d been wearing the previous day off of the floor and quietly pulled them on, then taking Lionheart from its case at the foot of the bed, he picked up his boots and walked out into the hall of the SeeD dormitories.

He settled the gunblade into his belts then stepped into the boots. He ran a hand through his dark hair and crossed his arms over his chest, unconsciously guarding himself against the cold as he made his way to the training area. Curfew was not over and the Garden halls were deserted, Squall preferred it when it was quiet like this.

He stopped before the large steel doors of the training area to draw Lionheart, and work himself up for battle. Then he punched in his security code and identification number.

“SeeD Commander Leonhart, Squall. Personal Identification: 41269. Access granted.” The tinny feminine voice rang through the empty corridor. He should get that re-programmed, the announcement took too long, he preferred not to hang around before a fight, he got wound down.

Training wasn’t as satisfying as it used to be. He dispatched of the current Grat and wiped the gunk it excreted from his boot onto a tuft of grass. The current inhabitants of the Training Centre were too weak to present much of a challenge and he had thought of introducing some tougher foreign species of monster, but that idea was scrapped, according to Squall, when he remembered that the younger and less skilled students at Garden still had to come here to train. Everyone else at the military academy didn’t believe this, and were convinced that it was actually because of the time Zell had been put out of action for a month when a T-Rexaur had caught him off guard.

For whatever reason, Squall had cancelled the plan to bring stronger foes to the Training Centre. He staked Lionheart into the ground and pushed back the wrist of his glove, ignoring the churning feeling in his stomach as he saw pale jagged scar just below his hand, and looked at his watch with a sigh. It was nearly time to brief the SeeD candidates for the exam, Squall pulled his weapon from the ground and made his way to the entrance.

He skirted around the edge of the artificial ecosystem that was the Training Area, and back to the armoured doors designed to keep the monsters in, carrying the gunblade back in his hand so as not to get more dirt on his clothes.

On the way back to his rooms he stopped at the second floor deck to look out over the Alcauld Plains. He leant Lionheart against the wall and rested his elbows on the rail, chin in his hands.

They had returned the Garden to Balamb to provide the students with as stable a home as they could in times of peace. Squall had almost come to think of the small country as his homeland, though he knew Laguna would prefer him to have those sentiments about Esthar, or at least Winhill.

He shook his head and his thoughts went back to his room where Zell was probably awake by now.

* * * * * * *

The door slid closed with a soft hiss of hydraulics, it was a more efficient system than using electric motors. Squall grinned inwardly, an expression that manifested itself as little more than a small smile on his face.

Zell stood by the window, fresh from the shower, and soaking wet, re-adjusting the deep blue towel around his waist. He pushed his dripping bangs away from his face and grinned at Squall over his shoulder.

“Hey baby.”

Squall inclined his head in greeting, that subtle smile still playing at his lips, eyes closing slowly. He opened them again and watched Zell turn back to the window, framed like a shadow against the pink and orange of the dawn sky.

“Where’ve ya been?”

Squall held up Lionheart in explanation. “Training.”

“There’s a surprise.” He flashed another smile back at Squall as the other man returned his weapon to its case, quickly wiping it off with a rag beforehand. “Sometimes I think ya like that place more than ya like bein’ here with me.”

Squall pulled off his gloves and kicked off his boots. He went slowly to Zell at the window, resting his chin on the blonde’s wet shoulder, and placing his hands on his narrow waist just above the towel. “Sometimes I do.” Squall kissed Zell’s neck, as his fingers lightly followed the line of a thin scar across his stomach, the token of a confrontation with Seifer’s posse.

“I’ll remember that.” Zell’s voice came out husky and quiet. He leant back against Squall, tilting his head to allow the other man greater access to his throat. Squall nipped at the exposed flesh, feeling the rumble of a moan vibrate against his chest.

Squall’s hand moved round to the front of Zell’s towel, gripping the protruding hardness of Zell’s sex through heavy fabric. The smaller man shuddered pleasantly, and twisted around in Squall’s arms, leaning up to capture his lover in a kiss. Zell was like citrus, like lemons, with a tang that sent chills down Squall’s spine and made him crave to taste him again, just to know if it always felt like that.

Squall pulled loose the towel and let it fall to the floor, and walked forward, backing Zell up against the wall. He pressed his tongue to the hollow of Zell’s throat, his hands on the wall either side of the younger man’s head.

The young Commander dropped to his knees in front of Zell, acknowledging the blonde’s grin with a small nod. He covered the tattooed man’s belly with small kisses, dipping his tongue into his navel, all the while caressing Zell’s erection lightly with his fingers.

Then he lowered his head further, lips dancing down Zell’s stomach, and ran his tongue along the underside of Zell’s shaft. Zell moaned, twisting his hands into Squall’s hair.

Squall licked the tip of the hard organ, before taking the entire head into his mouth. He reached behind Zell, his finger teasing the tight ring of muscle at the entrance to his passage.

He took his mouth from Zell’s sex, and grazed his tongue along its length.  He heard a hiss of breath, and felt Zell’s hands tighten in his hair as he took him back into his mouth, at the same time pushing his finger into Zell, and the blonde unconsciously pushed forward with a small cry.

Squall began taking Zell inch by inch deeper into his mouth, until he was pressing against the back of his throat, and his nose was buried in Zell’s coarse pubic hair.  He sucked hard on his erection, bracing one hand against the wall, as he added another finger to the one already inside Zell, searching out the spot that would make him cry and go weak at the knees.

He pulled his head back, then took the entire length of Zell’s erection back into his mouth, and Zell began to thrust in eagerly.  Eventually the pair found a rhythm, Zell pushing forward into Squall’s mouth, then back onto his invading finger.

Then Squall drew his head back and harshly sucked the tip and his fingers rubbed against Zell’s prostate.  Zell threw his head back against the wall, mouth open in a silent moan as he came.

Squall savoured the taste of Zell on his tongue, pushing his finger in again, listening to Zell’s quiet cries, as his finger encouraged wave after wave of pleasure to shake through his body and into Squall’s mouth.

Squall sat back on his heels looking satisfied as he regained his breath.  Zell looked down at him panting, that wolfish grin once again on his face, turning to a frown as Squall got to his feet and started looking through the wardrobe.

“Squall, where’re ya goin’?”  He replaced his towel around his waist and looked to his lover.

“I’ve gotta brief the students.”  He was pulling his SeeD uniform from its hanger.

“Aww, come on Squall!  It’s your turn, they can wait ten minutes.”

“If they can wait ten minutes, you can wait thirty.  I’m not going with them, just briefing them.”  He already had the grey trousers and his shirt on.

“But Squall…”

“Stop whining Zell.”  He pulled on his boots.  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”  He shrugged on his jacket.  “I’ll seeya then.”  He kissed Zell on the nose and left him looking extremely harassed.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Squall sighed and leant back into the large leather chair behind the mahogany desk.  He rubbed his temples wearily; Zell was going to kill him.  He hadn’t been able to keep his promise about returning, and now Xu had cornered him just as he was trying to get back, seven hours late.

“It was a mistake Squall,” she was saying.  “We should have demanded more money!”

“Xu, we don’t need more money.  It was a simple operation, below the capabilities of the candidates.  We had no right to ask for more money.”

“Squall, we’re mercenaries!  Money’s the reason we mobilise when we get called by these people.”

“I think SeeD will benefit from morals, Xu.  I think Headmaster Kramer will agree.”

“I…”

“Don’t we have a ball to prepare for?”

She looked at the commander closely, and he bristled under her examination, but she could tell she wasn’t going to get any further with him.  “Yes, Sir.”

He turned his chair to face the large window, listening to the click of the departing SeeDs boot heels.  He sighed, wincing as another knock sounded on his door.

“Come in.”  Zell entered the large circular office, dressed in a black standard issue combat uniform, with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

“You’re spendin’ more time in here than even in the Trainin’ Centre recently, I’m getting’ worried.”  His face split into that canine grin.

“I’m sorry Zell, I couldn’t get away, then I just had Xu hassling me about…”

Zell waved the apology away.  “Don’t worry about it.”  He walked around Squall’s desk and hopped up to sit on it in front of his lover.  “Are you free now?”

Squall shook his head.  “I’ve got a tone of paperwork.”

“But I won’t disturb you, too much…” He slipped off of the table onto his knees on the carpet.

He was just reaching for the zipper of Squall’s grey trousers when a voice interrupted them over the intercom.

“Commander Leonhart, Sorceress Rinoa is on the ComLink.”  Zell groaned.

“What does that witch want?”

Squall flicked him playfully on the forehead.  “Don’t call her that.”  He smiled at Zell, who sat rubbing his head and grinning.

Squall leant forward and pressed a button on his desk.  “Ok, put her through.  Thanks.”  He gave Zell a wry smile as the smaller man got to his feet straightening his clothes; Zell grimaced.

Rinoa’s image flickered onto a monitor opposite Squall’s desk, and Squall stood up.  “Rinoa.”  He said shortly and nodded, he didn’t sound as unhappy to see her as Zell had hoped he would.

“Hi Squall.” She smiled.  Zell sighed huffily, and Rinoa noticed him for the first time, a silent mask fell over her face, hiding her emotions.  It was a trick she had learned from Squall.  “I’d like to make a request for SeeD.”