Archive of Our Own

“Dad, I’ve got to go. He’ll be here soon.”

I glanced up from what I was doing to see exactly what I’d anticipated. My father pouting because I had to go a little earlier than usual. “I thought you said the date was for seven?” he said. Maybe even whined. I loved my father, and he was probably - along with his friends - half the reason I was even remotely human these days. Hell, he might even have been half the reason I was still alive. He was just… sometimes an overwhelming man. “It’s only six-thirty.”

“Because I’ll have to argue for at least ten minutes before you’ll let me hang up and I’m still not dressed for the date?” I gestured at myself and my apron, leaning back so the camera in my Estharian vidscreen could get a better shot of my current appearance. Of course, it did nothing to discourage my father. I suspected he was hanging on in hopes of seeing my date. He hadn’t met many of my romantic partners since Rinoa and I had parted ways, so his curiosity was getting the better of him. I wasn’t ready for that yet. After all, Seifer had his own issues and I wasn’t rushing headlong into anything until I was sure Seifer was good with it too. He seemed almost skittish of me in a way that worried me and our last encounter had only reaffirmed that concern.

“This is the guy you went to school with, right?” My father sat back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Not “the guy from the last sorceress’ war”, even though clearly he knew from just our previous conversations who it was I’d been meeting. My dad was also proving my concerns about time exactly right.

“Yeah. The one from Garden, and the orphanage before that.”

“Seems it must be fate, then,” he grinned at me. I swear my dad was the biggest busybody of them all. Even more curious about my love life than the rest of my friends combined.

“Dad.”

“Okay, okay,” he held his hands up in surrender. “I’ll stop.”

Part of the reason I wasn’t quite ready to share Seifer just yet was that, besides my mild concerns about him, Seifer had once idolised the man that had turned out to be my father. Perhaps a little selfish of me but I wasn’t quite prepared to share either of them with the other, at least until I knew what the terms were and had a better idea of how Seifer was doing. “I really have to go, he’ll be here…” As though prompted by my words, my phone buzzed in my back pocket. I pulled it out, holding a hand up to quiet my dad for a moment. “Seifer?”

“Hey… Sorry, I’m a little early,” he sounded kind of sheepish. “That okay?”

“That’s fine,” I said, crossing to the controls for the door downstairs and hitting the button to buzz him in. “Just don’t mind if I have to run off and get changed for our date.”

My dad was leaning forward as though he could somehow see around the tablet and see where I’d gone when I returned to the screen. He was also grinning like an idiot. “That’s him, right?”

“Someone else there?” Seifer asked nonchalantly. I heard the way the echoes of his voice changed as he’d entered the foyer of my apartment building. His footsteps stopped, pausing while he got my answer. It occured to me briefly that maybe he was jealous?

“No, I have my kind of nosy father on the other line, that’s all.”

“Nosy?” Laguna pouted.

“Ahh… it was apartment eight, right?” his footsteps started again and I’m pretty sure I caught a note of relief in his voice. Maybe I was imagining things. Or hoping. Or something.

“Yeah, I’ll see you as soon as you get up here or I manage to get my dad to hang up. Whichever’s first,” I said, giving my dad a very, very pointed look. Which he totally ignored, of course.

“Sure, see you soon, squirt,” I rolled my eyes at the very old nickname and tucked my phone into my back pocket again.

“Dad, I really have to go.”

The pout remained, but he gave me a nod. “I expect a call tomorrow. With details,” he said attempting to look stern. It was an expression that never really worked for Laguna, at least not with anyone who’d known him for more than five minutes. “Have fun, kiddo. Goodnight.”

“I will,” I promised, reaching over to end the call. “Goodnight, dad.”

As soon as the call was closed I practically ripped my apron off, tossing it over a chair at my dining table, and ran to the door. I only paused long enough to glance in the mirror and run my fingers through my hair before I opened the door. I was still dusted with flour from my earlier baking but I looked mostly presentable enough, fuck it, it would have to do.

Seifer was just rounding the corner of the balcony that stretched in front of the top floor apartments when I looked outside, a bottle of wine in one hand and a wrapped box tucked under the other arm.

He was handsome. Always had been handsome, really. And in the years since I’d seen him he hadn’t changed all that much - I could still see my old rival in him. He was just a man now, not an eighteen year old kid. It was still a little weird to see him like this, taller, broader, and with far longer swept back blond hair than he’d ever worn in garden. Tonight he was dressed all in black - a button down shirt under a lightweight but well cut jacket, and a pair of very fitted slacks. His collar was open, showing a flash of the silver choker he’d always worn briefly against the skin of his throat. He looked somewhere between bouncer, and mobster. Dangerous and handsome.

“You look good,” I said, not hiding the fact that I was checking him out. Seifer even looked a little embarrassed when I did it.

He offered me the bottle as soon as he reached me, looking me up and down deliberately too. More than a little hungry, I thought. I could work with that. “You look perfect to me,” he said, giving me a little shrug.

I was in my torn blue jeans and a long sleeved shirt that should have been dark grey but was far lighter in places because of the flour. I took the bottle and stepped back enough to let him in. “You might be biased, Seifer,” I said, smiling all the same.

Seifer brushed his fingers over my cheek, as gentle a touch as I’d ever felt from him. It was tender, sweet, and I never really expected him to be sweet. I was still learning what this Seifer was like, after all, this was only the third time we’d met. Both of us had had eighteen or so years of growing since we’d been those messed up garden kids. “Maybe a little, but still, you look beautiful.”

I turned my head just enough to press a light kiss to his palm. He shivered. He was close enough that I could have tried for more, but I wasn’t ready to push him after our previous meeting. I think he wanted more but for the moment, he seemed as hesitant as I was. “C’mon,” I said, taking his hand gently to lead him into my apartment. “I still have a little more work to do so we can eat.”

“I wondered what these things were like,” he said, glancing around my place. I knew it had only recently been completed, a conversion of an old empty warehouse into almost studio style apartments. An old friend had recommended the place to me and I’d loved it on sight. The whole place was effectively four rooms, bedroom, bathroom, a kitchen and living space, and finally one other room that was slowly becoming my office. They’d left a lot of the old building’s features intact, bare brick walls and wrought iron painted black. The windows were tall, arched glass panels divided into sections that stretched almost floor to ceiling and let in the afternoon and evening sunlight. Suited me perfectly, since I still wasn’t a morning person no matter what the coffee said. It also meant that my apartment had a perfect view across one of the city parks, close enough to the city centre itself to be convenient but without so much of the noise.

Seifer crossed to the windows to look out, the last gasp of evening light fading to the chorus of streetlights in and around the park. “Nice,” he said, turning in place to take in what he could of my apartment.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll go get changed.”

“You don’t have to, you know,” he said, looking back at me over his shoulder. “I mean it, you look great.”

I looked down at the flour dusted shirt, then back up at him. “I want to make an effort for you, you know.”

“Like cooking dinner for us isn’t an effort?”

“Okay… you have a point there.”

“Here’s an even better one,” Seifer strolled back to me oh so nonchalantly and then… he pounced on me, hugging me tightly and to my surprise, kissing me at the corner of my mouth. “Now we’re both as dusty as each other, so it’s all good, right?”

I think I must have stared at him for a good thirty seconds, too surprised to even comprehend what had happened at first. I hadn’t expected that after our last meeting or the way he’d reacted at the door, even. He started to pull away, I could see the nervousness start to creep in to his expression so I had to show him I approved. And how much I approved.

I wrapped an arm around his neck to keep him right there, and kissed him.

I swear I felt the tension flow back out of his body, his fingers sliding into my hair. One kiss became two, then three, and then I forgot how to count. They weren’t desperate kisses, not hungry or outright violent, but they were so right I just didn’t want to stop. Neither did he, from the way he clung to me.

Eventually, Seifer was the one to pull away from me, gazing at me like he didn’t think I was real.

“Think I’ve been waiting for that for about twenty years,” I said, staying close to him. I deliberately didn’t smile too widely, didn’t push it too much. Let him connect this Squall to the fucked up kid in his memories. Cement the link to help in those moments when time compression tried to seep in.

His warm hand cupped my cheek, still gentle, still careful and cautious, and he traced his thumb over my lower lip before he finally smiled. “Damn. This is real, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I don’t think either of have dreams this good, do we?”

He gazed at me, his eyes so green and close that I couldn’t look away. “No… you’re right.”

“I hate to pull away now, but if I don’t get to cooking now, we aren’t going to eat tonight.”

Seifer gave a little huff of a laugh at that, nodding. “Sure. Not that I’d mind, in this case.”

“I might. I’m pretty hungry,” I flashed him a smile and eased away from him gently, crossing into the kitchen.

“Anything I can do?”

“Open the wine and keep me company?” I suggested, smiling over my shoulder at him.

Seifer did just as I asked, thankfully keeping to the outskirts of the kitchen area of my main living space, watching me cook but not being underfoot. I didn’t mind him being around, I was just glad he knew enough to keep out of the way as I finished up our dinner. He mentioned Fujin training him when I commented on it, so I had her to thank for more than just setting us up.

He enjoyed our meal more than I’d expected really, complementing both my cooking and the choice in dishes. I’d deliberately kept it basic, despite threatening him with fried fish. Really good steak - even easier since we both liked it rare - with salt baked potatoes and salad on the side. Nothing too fancy or fussy for our first meal cooked by my hand, partly because Seifer didn’t strike me as that kind of guy and partly because I really didn’t want to take away from the dessert we had coming.

We ate. Not so much in silence but more like men who were pretty hungry. While I was far better than I had once been, I was still pretty bad at small talk and he seemed to recognise that, at least so far.

Seifer had picked an excellent wine to accompany our meal too and, as he sat back satisfied with his wine glass in hand, I had to chide myself for thinking he looked good here. Eating with me, cradling the wine glass in his hand, relaxed and content about all of it. He looked almost at home, but after all those kisses I wasn’t sure I was in any fit state to make a judgement. Not that it was going to stop me in the least.

“Where the hell did you learn to cook?” he said, easy smile on his lips.

“Some shows in Esthar, some observation, some friends,” I gave him a shrug and a smile. “Besides, this part’s more about timing than anything else.”

“This part?”

“You didn’t think I’d skimp out on dessert, did you?”

“I’d make a joke about you being dessert, but you’ve got me intrigued. What’s for dessert?” Seifer leant forward on his elbows again. His jade green eyes seemed so bright in the deliberately soft light. He was junctioned, I realised, probably far too late.

My dining table, such that it was, was big enough for two or just big enough for four very intimately acquainted people. Usually if I was meeting someone for dinner, I’d be going out so I could escape if I needed to, back to my “Squall cave” - Ellone’s term - and regroup. I didn’t often invite people into my home and yet, after just two dates, I’d readily invited Seifer into my safe place. Was that because I worried about him, or because I felt safe around him? I couldn’t say.

“Wait and see,” I said cryptically, gathering the plates and taking them to the dishwasher. By the time I was at the fridge, Seifer was hovering on the edge of my kitchen again, and when I pulled the cake out, I heard his gasp of surprise. I pretended not to notice, even though I was feeling entirely smug about all of it.

I set the cake on the kitchen counter and reached for the plates. One of Seifer’s hands was on the small of my back suddenly, steadying me as I reached up on tiptoes even though I didn’t need it. His warmth was pleasant through the thin fabric of my shirt though and I wasn’t about to shoo him away when I was enjoying it. It was nice that he was suddenly feeling brave enough to touch and support - the kisses earlier must have buoyed him a little. The wine was probably helping. We’d already finished the first bottle with dinner.

“You did not make that,” he said, a faint note of awe in his voice. I rolled my eyes and leant back against him as I set the plates out. Almost on instinct, his arm slipped around me and he rested his chin on my shoulder. The height difference between us was a little more pronounced than it had been when we were kids so it made it easier for him to hold me. I liked that too, perhaps a little too much.

Our dessert was a homemade mocha cake. Three layers of coffee and chocolate sponge with mocha buttercream and a chocolate ganache drizzled over it. Yes, I was showing off. I was showing off so much that I was almost ashamed of myself but I was also enjoying it immensely. Especially since Seifer thought I couldn’t have made it, that was exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for. “I made all of it, if you don’t believe me, all the mixing bowls are still in the dishwasher.”

I swear I felt Seifer pause. He pressed the lightest kiss to my shoulder, just where the neckline of my shirt didn’t quite cover and his thumb stroked me where it rested on my stomach absently. “You do smell like coffee.”

“Most days I smell like coffee,” I inclined my head to rest against his lightly. “And you could be smelling the cake.”

I felt the rumble of his chuckle more than heard it. His comfortable embrace from behind me seemed oddly right, as though it was something I’d known on a cellular level been missing all of my life. Sometimes Time Kompression or my own fucked up memories did that to me, labelled a thing or event as a vital part of my make up without my knowledge or consent like some screwy deja vu thing. All I could do was go along with the ride and hope that whatever it was would pass or calm down. Except this - this felt good enough that it could last a while for me. “Okay, I believe you.”

Turning my head just enough to kiss his cheek, I nudged him gently. “More wine, or should I really go for broke and make us coffee to go with?”

“On the one hand, the wine’s keeping me pretty relaxed,” he said, his deep voice softening a little now he was so close to me that I could feel his heartbeat. I had to wonder how observant he was given the few times we’d been around each other so far. This was only our third date, after all, but he seemed to speak softer and quieter when it was just the two of us. Especially when we were close together. I wasn’t nearly as sensitive to loud environments as I had been at the close of the war, but I still wasn’t all that keen on loud or busy places all the time. I was a hell of a lot better, that didn’t mean I was anywhere approaching normal. “On the other, given everything so far tonight, I’d love to try your coffee.”

My turn to chuckle. “How about more wine and then we can have a coffee afterwards?”

“Good plan. Excellent strategy.”

“Want to open the bottle for me while I serve the cake?” I asked as he straightened. I missed his warmth immediately.

“Love to. Have to make myself useful.”

Seifer found the wine I described in the winerack - just a small shelf that held a few bottles, nothing extensive. Mostly they were gifts and things that I’d kept for the rare occasion I had company since if I was going to drink alone I was far more likely to turn to whiskey after a long day, but at least there was a good dessert wine we could pair with our cake. I was pleased to note that it had come out perfectly when I cut it, and I added a perfect curl of salted caramel ice cream on the side - I made that too, Seifer wouldn’t believe that either. Seifer poured the wine and we returned to the table to partake.

He was almost hesitant as he took the first tiny taste. Then he put his fork down and took my hand in his. “Marry me.”

I couldn’t help a laugh. “That good?”

“Better, but I don’t have the equipment to offer you children.”

“I wouldn’t have anywhere to put them anyway,” I squeezed his hand gently. “Eat.”

Seifer happily returned to his dessert, and I ate mine. He took it slowly, seeming to savour every bite “So… can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Was it weird, suddenly having a family?”

I wasn’t sure where that had come from so suddenly, and to be honest, it was something I hadn’t thought about in… well, years. Then again, I hadn’t had any contact with Seifer since the war so he was the only one from the orphanage who hadn’t been around to witness the messy aftermath. “Very,” I shrugged and smiled. “Laguna is a good man, but nothing like the people I was used to. At first, I didn’t know how to take him. He’s just… nothing like me. If it hadn’t been for Irvine and Quistis, I’m not sure I’d have gotten this far.”

“I remember seeing a couple of articles about you guys at the time. You always kept your head down in the pictures,” he took a sip of wine, rolling the glass lightly in his fingers. A nervous tick, or Seifer thinking and remembering? I suddenly had a striking memory of my own, of Seifer restlessly drumming a pen against the back of his hand in class, knowing that it would piss me off but that the instructor wouldn’t understand if I blew up at him. That they wouldn’t do anything to stop him since he wasn’t making noise. He gave me a half grin as though he was reading my mind. “I thought it was all fake, like one of those tabloid things they make up. Aliens abducting cows for elixers, the tonberry king ate my baby. Super hot orphan actually secret love child of similarly hot president of lurking country.”

That made me crack up. I’d have to write that one down later to pass on to my dad when he called me for gossip and updates the following day. “I didn’t believe it at first, either. Took a long time to even be able to listen to him after everything we went through. But my father is… different.”

“Runs in the family, then?”

“Guess so,” I shrugged again. “I felt guilty as fuck being the only one who actually had a blood relative, so I pretty much got guilt tripped into sticking it out longer than I meant to. Eventually I started listening rather than just… judging.”

“And you liked him?”

“Eventually. Took a while, unfortunately for both of us. Thankfully he wasn’t too overbearing while I was getting used to him.”

“It would be hard to tell you to clean your room after you’d saved the world,” he mused, finishing the last bite of cake and setting the fork delicately back onto the plate. “Does he know who you were waiting for tonight?”

“Yes,” I replied honestly. My father knew exactly who Seifer was. Hell, I think my father had been instrumental in removing several warrants for the sorceress’ knight in the closing days of the war. I’d leave that up to Laguna to explain, if they ever met. “Tall, handsome blond, pretty eyes, wicked smile…”

Seifer blushed. He cleared his throat and distracted himself by topping off our glasses, and that finished the second bottle of wine of the evening between us. “Not quite what I meant, is that what you told him?”

“I told him I was having a dinner date with an old friend. If you’re asking what I think you’re asking, yes, he knows. Who you are, who you were in the war, and who you were before that.”

He focused on the glass in his hands, unable to look me in the eye on that revelation. “How does he feel about you dating a war criminal?”

“Entirely overlooked it, to be honest.”

“What?” he blinked at me, not believing me for a minute.

My turn to take a sip from my glass, sitting back in the chair and watching him with interest. “He doesn’t care, Seifer. Not to mention, my father is a deserter of the Galbadian army. He wound up in Esthar taking down Adel shortly after I was born.”

“That explains why you’re a Leonhart and not a Loire, then. Wait, you’re Galbadian too?”

“Mmhm. From a little village in the south part of the continent… though dad's from much closer to the capital.”

Seifer shook his head, still not sure if he should believe me. I never had been able to bullshit him, anyway. That was why I hadn't even tried in D-district. “But I’ve never seen you put hot sauce on anything.”

I chuckled. “Must be one of those things you pick up while growing up - unless it skips a generation. Pretty sure dad would have it served by hosepipe if they’d let him."

“Could be either way,” he looked thoughtful. “So… you happy with having all that history? No time k...compression jokes.”

“I always had history. Laguna just gave me a little more to go along with my own,” I shook my head. My ring and necklace, both bearing the sign of Griever, were all I’d had of my blood family before Laguna. I’d always wondered but never regretted anything while I’d been growing up. Especially not with the GFs eating my memories like candy. “Blood connections don’t feel any different to the ones I’ve forged. I like my dad because he’s a good man, and a total dork. Not just because he’s my dad.”

Seifer looked almost sad, gazing down into his glass thoughtfully. “I always kinda wondered what we missed as kids. Kinda disappointing to find there’s no big reveal when you find something like that…”

I took Seifer’s free hand in mine, squeezing gently. “I have two uncles. My dad’s closest friends and confidants, and they’re just as close to me as my dad is. Even if they aren’t blood, it doesn’t make me care about them any less. Same goes for my adopted sister.. You remember her? From the orphanage?”

I saw the confusion, then the recognition flicker over his face. “Sis? Hyne, was she your sister for real then?”

With a little shrug, I nodded. “Not entirely legally back then, but yeah.”

“Damn. And here I was always jealous of how much attention she got from you.”

“She figured.”

Seifer was quiet again, reminding me of myself all those years before. Too thoughtful, too introspective. It wasn’t like the Seifer I remembered, but a little too much wine and a little too much philosophy could make anyone brood. “Thanks…,” he said, eventually, forcing a smile. “I think I’d heard that crap before but… I know you know what you’re talking about.”

“Nah, I spent years in command. I can lie through my teeth and bullshit with the best of them. Hell, I’m a writer now, I lie for a living,” I stood up from my chair, still holding Seifer’s hand and walked around the small table, tugging him lightly until he followed me to his feet, and then to my very comfortable couch. I set my glass of wine down on the coffee table and ran my now free hand through his hair, looking him in the eye. “What makes you happy, Seifer?”

Seifer set his glass down beside mine and wrapped his arms loosely around me. “Do you want a List?”

I laughed. “For old time’s sake, I hope I’m on it.”

“Right now, baby, you’re at least items one through eight,” he grinned at me, sinking down onto the couch and pulling me after him. I half covered him, kissing back when his lips found mine, stretching comfortably against him and settling right there.

I was going to make it to at least 10 before I was through with the evening.

‘You up?’ I sent the text to Fujin.

Within a minute, my phone was ringing. I accepted the call and put it on speaker phone. Fuu’s voice was soft and quiet when she didn’t force her words, so I had to nudge the volume up a little. “Up late for a school night,” she joked.

“Eh, the good thing about being the boss is no one bitches when you go in late with a hangover,” I was sat in my kitchen, the clock just shy of midnight, nursing a very large glass of water. I didn’t drink a hell of a lot usually and I really did have work the next morning so I didn’t want to wake up with a headache if I could help it. I’d been back from my date at Squall’s place for a total of five minutes, not that I’d wanted to leave. However I’d booked the taxi before I’d even arrived and as tempting as a night in his bed was, I honestly didn’t know if I was ready for that. “Especially when there’s only one day to go until the weekend.”

“Lot to drink tonight?”

“More than usual. Not excessive amounts,” I rested my elbow on the table and my head in my hand, watching the seconds tick up on the call timer. “Going to ask about the date?”

“If you want to talk about it, you’ll talk about it.”

“I hate when you do the cryptic shit.”

“That’s why I do it, Seifer.”

I laughed, forcing myself to take another sip of water. “He cooks, Fuu. Hell, Squall bakes!”

“Really?” Even she sounded shocked. Her voice rarely reflected any emotions besides boredom and RAGE. “What did he bake?”

“Mocha cake. Like… three layers, and perfect icing and holy shit it was like something you’d see in that little snooty bakery across the street from your office. Fuck, why didn’t I get a picture before I let him cut it. I could have sent it to you so you could see it.”

“More importantly, did you get us some?”

“He insisted I take the left overs. I’ll sneak by your office tomorrow to share the goods,” I rubbed my hand over my face - I was damn tired. It’d been a long day at work and then I’d had dinner with a gorgeous guy who could cook and could bake and was my all time hero’s son and then I’d made out with him on the couch for an hour. If it wasn’t for the whole tried to murder him about eighteen years ago thing, I’d think my night had been perfect. Hell, who was I kidding, it had been perfect. I was just trying to pick faults. “Promise you’ll actually let Rai have some.”

“Some. Yes.”

“I can tell when you’re being evil, you know.”

“After all these years I’d be disappointed if you couldn’t,” she yawned. “What’s wrong, Seifer? You wouldn’t be texting this late if there wasn’t something.”

“Still can’t convince myself I deserve any of this,” I said, a little more bluntly than I’d usually go for. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like it did with… you know.”

“Seifer, Lucas was a slimebag. I told you that when you started dating him, I told you that when you caught him cheating on you. Squall is… well, he used to be an asshole but he got better. So were you, so did you. It happens, it’s called growing up.”

I laughed. “You really think so? I know plenty of people our age or older who are still assholes.”

“Not done growing yet. Some people never get done. Some grow into slimebags and need to be put in shallow graves where they become fertiliser and can be useful for once in their slimebag lives. Squall likes you and you have fun with him, Seifer. You’re trying to overcomplicate things when you’ve been on a total of three dates now and one of them was you trying to kill each other.”

“Duelling.”

“Same thing with you guys.”

“True.”

“I know I’m right. Anyway, stop looking for deeper meaning and let it find you when it’s ready. Of course you’re going to be nervous when you guys have history and shit, but you’re thinking twenty steps ahead of where your feet are right now. Don’t go tripping up because of it. Just have fun with him, Seifer, and let it become whatever it needs to be.”

“So I shouldn’t tell you I proposed tonight?”

“...it was the cake, wasn’t it?”