A/N: Don't own, so don't sue. Seifer/Squall.
Naked
-irishais-
It would have been a lot less awkward of a conversation if he had remembered to grab a towel.
"Yes, Commander?" Seifer says with a sneer as he glares out the tiny crack in the door.
"You going to open the door?"
"Wasn't planning on it."
"Almasy." Like an "order" from Squall is going to make Seifer open the door in his birthday suit.
Oh, hell with it. He yanks the door back.
"Puberty Boy."
Squall doesn't even blink, just hold out the mission file. Seifer snatches it, the folder a paltry excuse for pants, but it'll do in a pinch. "Briefing at 1100," Squall continues on, impassive. "I expect to see you there. Dressed, preferably."
"That's not what you said last night," Seifer shoots back lazily and has to grin as Squall's jaw tightens. He's startled himself, though, when Squall grabs his wrist and pulls him away from the doorway to kiss him once, hard.
"Briefing. 1100." Squall disappears down the hall, and it takes Seifer a few seconds to realize that the door has locked shut behind him.