If the war hadn't happened, if Squall had never been sent to Timber on the mission that would forever trap them in this loop of inevitability, what could they have been? The question used to scratch at his mind. Would he have been brave enough to resign from SeeD after seeing firsthand how right Seifer had been about its preferences for candidates and the petty degree to which it enforced its contracts? Would Seifer being forced to leave Garden after not graduating after the exam been the push needed for Squall to say everything he's finally said now? How many avenues of potential had he cut off by damning them in his journey through time?
The ache of that possibility lives in him now and the chasm it's created only grows wider for that split second when Seifer shifts back and Squall's desperate hands twitch with the urge to anchor him in. To not let Seifer brush this off. But that's not what's happening. Instead, Squall experiences a ripple in time as their lips feather against each other before sealing in a kiss. For moment, they're five and six again, standing on a beach, kissing in a chaste way that comes from trying to soothe hurt and affirm loyalties. Then, as Squall's hands lift to draw Seifer in, they're teenagers, kissing like it's just another way for them to fight.
And now, the reality falls in line with all the apparitions of the past and Squall is kissing Seifer because it's him. Because it was always meant to be him. If this had been a last ditch attempt to put him off, to make him rethink his presence, all it does is affirm it in a way Squall never thought he'd be brave enough to tempt. But now that it's here, now that he's pressing himself bodily up against Seifer and feeling the changes in their bodies, the heat of their joined mouths, Squall can't imagine a world where this stops. He pours himself into the kiss like it's magic. Like he can push the spell of his affection into Seifer's body, a physical draw point of need and desire.
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The ache of that possibility lives in him now and the chasm it's created only grows wider for that split second when Seifer shifts back and Squall's desperate hands twitch with the urge to anchor him in. To not let Seifer brush this off. But that's not what's happening. Instead, Squall experiences a ripple in time as their lips feather against each other before sealing in a kiss. For moment, they're five and six again, standing on a beach, kissing in a chaste way that comes from trying to soothe hurt and affirm loyalties. Then, as Squall's hands lift to draw Seifer in, they're teenagers, kissing like it's just another way for them to fight.
And now, the reality falls in line with all the apparitions of the past and Squall is kissing Seifer because it's him. Because it was always meant to be him. If this had been a last ditch attempt to put him off, to make him rethink his presence, all it does is affirm it in a way Squall never thought he'd be brave enough to tempt. But now that it's here, now that he's pressing himself bodily up against Seifer and feeling the changes in their bodies, the heat of their joined mouths, Squall can't imagine a world where this stops. He pours himself into the kiss like it's magic. Like he can push the spell of his affection into Seifer's body, a physical draw point of need and desire.