Author's note: There are two main things to be noted about this piece:
1.) SHOUNEN-AI - m/m sexual tension/kissing
2.) INCEST - father and son partaking of the above
Just to make sure that was clear, this piece features Laguna and Squall as father and son involved in a less-than-platonic relationship. If this isn't your cuppa, then please do stop reading now; mental trauma resulting from ignoring these warnings is your own concern.
Final Fantasy VIII is copyright to Square Co., Ltd. Only my obsession with it is my own.
@}~,~~ -==- ~~'~{@
Hunger
Over the shoulder of the mayor of Fisherman's Horizon, Laguna met Squall's eyes. Again.
They'd been dancing the waltz of avoidance the entire night, and yet, each time Laguna had glanced at the SeeD, he'd met Squall's intent blue gaze. To be honest, it was beginning to unnerve him - and yet he could not seem to stop turning his eyes to the younger man. They never met, but circled each other like wary dogs as they moved through the crowd filling the Palace's ballrooms, playing their parts - Squall as the stoic mercenary commander while Laguna curbed his tongue and chatted with the politicians that congregated about him.
The celebratory ball had been in full swing for just over an hour, and Laguna was rather proud of the event, in truth. With the official death of Adel and the aid of the SeeDs in exterminating the majority of the monsters resulting from the Lunar Cry, he'd led in the decision to once again open Esthar to the world. Negotiations with FH had gone smoothly, and within only a few months, the rail line from FH had been open again for the first time in decades. In celebration, a gala event had been arranged to be held in Esthar, its attendees being the first to travel the newly-reopened line.
People came from around the globe – not only leaders and influential people, but also artisans and travelers, curious on-lookers and those who had once called Esthar their home. And SeeD. The mercenaries turned out in force - all those who had aided in exterminating the monsters, in addition to those who had faced the world's future and overcome it. Although many were absent from the formal, invitation-only event at the Presidential Palace, they spilled throughout the city and the dozens of bashes occurring simultaneously, infecting the recovering city with life and laughter.
The hours lengthened. People began to depart, seeking their beds in the spacious Palace, and Laguna once again caught Squall's eye through the thinning crowds. One of the SeeD's dark eyebrows lifted curiously, and Laguna found himself grinning in response as he nodded to the unspoken invitation. Excusing himself to General Caraway, he made his way to the SeeD's side and stopped before him, thrusting his hands deeply into his pockets. "Are you enjoying yourself?"
Squall's shrug was eloquent, dismissing the question as irrelevant even as a wry grin curved his lips. His silence spoke for itself; his sense of duty kept him there whether he enjoyed it or not. His eyes shifted slightly as he met the comprehension in Laguna's gaze, and his grin broadened as he nodded briefly in acknowledgement.
'He has Raine's eyes,' Laguna realized anew, once more surprised at the familiarity of those eyes, just as he was surprised each time he met them. How odd it was, to see Raine's eyes assessing him so methodically, as though dissecting him at a molecular level.
"You pulled it off; you're not as big a buffoon as I'd thought."
"Huh?" Laguna blinked, then tilted his head and ducked to look at the shorter man from beneath his level, meeting Squall's light tone with his own teasing. "Are you actually complimenting me?"
"You're still a buffoon," Squall amended dryly, his eyes sparkling with rare good humor, "just not as much of one as I'd thought. This," he paused to gesture expansively, encompassing the ballroom with the sweep of his hand, "is nice."
Laguna couldn't help it; he laughed. One of Squall's finely-arched eyebrows lifted in response, and Laguna only laughed harder until Squall's lips began to curve bemusedly as well. Curtailing his amusement, he exhaled in a rush and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye as he extended a beckoning hand to the younger man. "Are you hungry?"
"Hungry?"
Laguna nodded. "Hungry." Dinner had been served hours before and, while there were hors d'oeuvres, he had done little but pick at anything as nervousness had knotted his stomach. "I was thinking of having a tray sent to my office. You're welcome to join me. We could talk."
"Talk." Squall assessed Laguna for a moment before glancing away from him. His brows lifted slightly, as though in question, then his grin returned as he rolled his eyes and met Laguna's gaze again. "Sure. I guess I'm hungry."
Laguna felt the grin spread across his lips as a mirror of Squall's, as soft and warm as melted butter. "Well, then," he laughed, clapping Squall on the shoulder, "come on, before someone decides they can't do without us." He linked his arm through Squall's good-naturedly, ignoring the SeeD's surprised look as he escorted him from the large room.
The hallways were dim and comfortable, empty but for the occasional guard who saluted briskly when Laguna was spotted. Having released Squall's arm just outside the ballroom, Laguna strode energetically toward his office, keeping up a light chatter about anything and everything, to which Squall occasionally made acknowledging noises. Only when they stepped into the hallway leading to the office itself did Laguna pause, leaning his hands against the glass of the walls as he looked out over the city. "This is my favorite spot. It's such a great view of Esthar, isn't it?"
Squall joined him at the edge and silently studied the view he'd never had time to appreciate before. It was beautiful; the city spread before them like a lush lawn, the ambient blue glow of its buildings broken only by the abstract designs created by the lift tubes. Lightly, his fingers touched the glass, tracing an echo of one of the glowing paths. "It is," he said at last, glancing over at Laguna, only to be unable to help the slight grin at Laguna's expression; the older man was nearly bursting, bubbling over with pride for the city he'd claimed to not want to lead.
Laguna laughed easily and clapped Squall on the back, drawing another vaguely amused look from the younger man. "It's not as good a view from my office, but it's not bad, and there'll be food there. Shall we?" Without waiting for a response, he bustled Squall on with a hand at the small of his back. They passed the guards outside the President's office without comment but with a jaunty wave from Laguna, and a phone call and a few minutes later, they were settled into two comfortable chairs with thick sandwiches in-hand.
"We didn't get company here often," Laguna said after a few bites, surreptitiously brushing crumbs from the corner of his mouth, "but I'm sure you knew that… I'm sorry, I'm out of practice at being a host. Did you want anything else?"
Squall shrugged, plucking at the bread. "This is fine." Without seeming to realize it, he'd denuded the bread of crust and, dropping the last scrap onto the plate, finally started on the sandwich itself, under Laguna's amused gaze.
"Raine didn't like crusts either."
Squall glanced up at Laguna without lifting his chin, the curiosity in his eyes glinting through the thick fringe of his lashes as he took another bite.
"You look a lot like her, really," Laguna continued after a moment's further study. "You have her eyes, and her mouth. You didn't take after me much at all, did you?"
Squall chewed thoughtfully without answering, watching as Laguna did the same. Swallowing, he turned the sandwich within his hands and considered the older man, finally murmuring, "Tell me about her."
Laguna glanced quickly at him - almost shyly, the aqua of his eyes screened by his lashes. "We got married right before I went looking for Ellone. Didn't have much time together really, not like that. She was so stoic about it when I left, like she knew she'd never see me again." He paused for a long moment, staring at his sandwich as though he'd never seen it before. "She grew flowers," he continued abruptly, startling Squall, "sold them all over town. Everyone loved her flowers."
"They still do," Squall said softly, meeting the surprised gaze of the older man. "They still talk about her." His lips quirked with faint amusement as he recalled the tiny town. "They still talk about you, although it doesn't sound like you got any more popular." He paused, inhaling deeply as the scent of the air of Winhill, heavy with the aroma of the white flowers, tickled his memory.
Laguna stared at Squall as the younger man's gaze unfocused, but remained unenlightened as to Squall's thoughts as the minutes passed. Self-consciously, he took another bite of his sandwich and ducked his head, struggling with the urge not to fidget as he felt Squall's eyes finally focus on him again. He ate quickly, nervously, as he felt the blush fighting to rise in his cheeks; position as President notwithstanding, intense surveillance never failed to unsettle him.
"You have mustard on your face."
"Huh?"
"Mustard." Squall lifted a hand, brushing his fingers against the corner of his own mouth. "Here." His lips curved in amusement as Laguna flushed and scrubbed at his face, glancing curiously at Squall, then trying again when the younger man shook his head. "I find it hard to believe," Squall murmured some moments later as Laguna finally succeeded in wiping the mustard away, "that you are old enough to be my father."
Laguna froze as the word entered the conversation for the first time, then flushed darkly and ducked his head as he nervously licked traces of mustard from his fingers. "Well…" he stalled, then grinned sheepishly and pressed forward, "that's the cold sleep, I think. I've done it so often, I'll probably be the same when I'm one hundred."
"That's not what I meant."
Laguna glanced up in curiosity, only to blink as Squall rose and approached him. The next moment, the SeeD bent and Laguna could only freeze as their lips touched, Squall's closed but firm, brushing over his mouth with a caress of warm velvet.
"Thanks for dinner," Squall said as he straightened and, as Laguna sat in shock, popped the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth before casually exiting.
Laguna's gaze held onto the last space that Squall had occupied, and as the minutes ticked by, the tingling in his lips gradually abated. Slowly, he lifted his hand to his lips, unable to help the catch in his breath when the lightest touch of his fingertips to over-sensitized flesh shot a lance of stimulation down his spine.
Squall had kissed him.
Squall had kissed him.
And Laguna didn't think he'd complain if Squall wanted to do it again.
Resting his fingers against his still-tingling lower lip, Laguna's shoulders trembled, making the silver streaks in his hair shimmer in the artificial lighting. A heartbeat later, the rich peals of his laughter echoed throughout the office, the brightness of the sound only outshone by the gleam of anticipation in his eyes.