She slammed the door behind her and stared into the darkness of the living room, swaying gently.

Reality took a great leap away from her and she realized that she was very drunk indeed. The dimness of the room disoriented her, and she knew that if she didn't get a light on soon, she'd probably be sick. She stumbled to the couch and turned the lamp on.

I need to sit down.

She half-sat, half-fell onto the couch. She didn't like not being able to think clearly. Having the world at one remove was kind of nice, but she was far past that now. She couldn't seem to find the world at all.

Take off your boots, Fujin. She managed to lift on heavy foot, but found the laces to be impossible. She gave up and propped her head on her hand.

Where was Seifer? He still hadn't come in.

She felt a wash of guilt, and cursed mentally.

That wasn't very nice, one part of her accused.

So? He deserved it.

Did he? He probably looked through every bar in town to find you. Why do you think he did that? Not because he was bored.

He wanted to annoy the hell out of me. Find me, tell me what to do, what not to do. He owns Raijin, damned if I'm going to let him own me too.

You're a posse. You watch out for each other, that's what it's all about. You know that.

I don't need to be watched out for.

True, but it should be comforting to know that you have friends who care.

The accusing voice in her head fell silent, and her eyes slipped shut. She thought about getting up and going to bed- she really didn't want to be out here in the living room when Seifer came back- but it was so hard to move.

She was drowsing, white noise buzzing in her head, when the door opened.

She ignored it. She was too far away anyway, sunk way down deep in her mind. He wouldn't be able to jolt her out of that primitive mental state where she was merely Fujin, no thoughts shaping non-existent emotions.

The chill touched her face then and jerked her up and out of herself, washing away most of the alcohol from her bloodstream, clearing the confusing miasma out of her mind. He'd cured her.

Immediately, she was infuriated. She'd paid good money for that buzz, damn him.

He dropped down onto the couch beside her.

"You fight dirty, Fuu." He offered that to her like a gift, and she saw red. He was one to talk about mind games. Admitting that she'd scored one on him was his way of chastising her. Sort of a, "See? I was really uncomfortable back there but I'm no coward, I can talk about it, no problem. What about you?" She wanted to spit on him.

But she only said, "I learned from the best," mildly.

And she waited. She knew him so well- he'd lost the upper hand out there in the street and would not stop until he regained it. She smiled to herself- he wouldn't find it so easy.

He laughed softly. "You enjoyed that even more than I did, didn't you?"

"Damned straight," she said smugly, seeing right through the implications of his words and ignoring them.

"Tsk," he chided. "Don't play dumb, Fuu. It doesn't suit you."

"Oh yes," she mocked, "I want to have mad monkey sex with you right now. Don't say no, my darling!"

"I like your shirt," he said pointedly.

She opened her eyes and looked down in confusion. Oh. The damned shirt again. She cursed to herself. She never wore a bra- her breasts were petite. No point. But in her jacket it was no worry if she got cold

(or turned on)

because the material was very thick. Not so, apparently, with this tank.

"I'm happy for you," she said blithely. "Go take another shower. Just don't use all the conditioner, okay?"

She started to stand, but his hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist.

"Not so fast. We were just discussing mad monkey sex, I believe. I think I'll take you up on that offer."

Angrily, she tried to remove his hand from her wrist, but his grip was too firm. He pulled then, and she landed in his lap awkwardly. She struggled, but was far too off balance to get away. She found herself staring straight at his self-satisfied smirk.

"Let me go," she hissed.

"I don't think so." The smirk evolved into a grin, and she realized that he was cupping her breast, thumb passing over her nipple with firm smooth strokes. She loathed him for the heat that was seeping into her body.

"I hate you. I'd rather sleep with Raijin."

"I bet I could arrange that. You'd have to let me watch, though." He removed his hand from her breast and pulled her close. "But you know you'd rather have me."

Shit. This was bad, he'd turned the tables on her. How had it happened? Think fast, Fujin.

There was still a way she could win this. And she would win, no matter the cost.

She smirked lazily at him and tossed her hair out of her face.

"Yep." She grinned at the surprise on his face and leaned in close. "And you know you don't want to just watch." Her lips brushed his ever so slightly as she spoke.

He closed the space between them without a word, and the contest began anew. Tongues and lips vied for supremacy, and when she bit him, not gently, his hand shot up from her hip and resumed its former position at her breast. He pressed harder this time, and she stifled the urge to moan. That wouldn't do.

He wasn't restraining her now, and she took the opportunity to rearrange her limbs more comfortably. She straddled him, biting again at his lip as she lowered herself again- right onto his waiting hand.

Two can play that game, she thought, glad that the pants were of heavier material than her shirt. He obviously knew exactly what he was doing. Not that she was a virgin or anything, but her experience wasn't extensive and had occurred long before she had even met him.

Pride kept her from squirming as the attentions of his hands became more persistent. She unzipped his vest and swept her hands down his chest to his belt, unbuckling his belt swiftly. Just as quickly, he slipped his hand out from under her and unfastened her pants, delving inside them and sliding one finger inside of her just as she managed to release him from his briefs. He was hot and hard in her hand, and she broke away from him to watch his face as she drew her hand luxuriously up the entire length of him, squeezing mercilessly.

He stared at her unblinkingly, and she smiled at him, rubbing the ball of her thumb in a circle, spreading the wetness she found there.

Abruptly he picked her up and stood her on her feet, rising off the couch after her to shrug out of his coat and vest. She kicked off her boots, and found his hands busy at her waist, sliding her pants and underwear briskly down over her hips. She stepped out of them, and returned the favor while he divested her of her treacherous tank.

He pressed himself against her then, biting softly at her neck, and she found herself smoothly maneuvered to the floor. He followed immediately after, staring her in the eyes as he parted her thighs expertly and entered her without preamble. She stared right back and thanked Hyne there hadn't been any trouble with that- he filled her completely and if she hadn't been slick with sudden desire, it wouldn't have happened so easily.

She wrapped her legs around him and they fell into a steady pace, still looking each other in the eyes challengingly. She wouldn't be the first to look away.

Seifer moved confidently, as she had known he would. She could feel each inch of him with every stroke, delightful friction that sent waves of warmth rippling across her whole body.

And she blinked.

He grinned at her and she looked at him in disbelief. Blinking did not count!

She tilted her chin at him, wanting very badly to bite his face off. He pushed one of her legs up and slung it over his shoulder, leaning down to capture her mouth aggressively as his thrusts took on a new urgency.

I will not come first. I will not come first.

She ripped her mouth away from his and he shifted, pushing himself forward until her face was buried against his collarbone. She grasped his shoulder blades and held on to control, fighting tooth and nail to keep herself from letting the world dissolve into orgasm.

I will not come first.

And he stopped mid-thrust, surprising her with the tiny sound that crept from his throat. Victory, she thought numbly, and then she was shuddering too.

He released her legs then, and she gratefully slid a smooth calf along his. Her legs ached- she could feel them trembling.

And then he stole her victory right out of her hands, touching her face and kissing her temple softly, leaving her mired in confusion.

The whole night crashed down on her then. You got so mad at him that you screwed him? How fucked up is that?

Don't think about it. Don't think about that kiss, don't think about how he's one of your best friends. Don't think of how afraid you are that he might love you. Don't think of how you will hurt him if you decide you don't love him back.

Just don't think about it.

And she gave in tiredly, stroking his hair softly. If it ended up that he loved her and she couldn't love him back, let him have that, at least.