Squall heaved a sigh as Irvine continued to yak his ear off about ...
something. He wasn't paying attention, but that had never stopped the
cowboy before, and it sure didn't now.
The two were walking down the dormitory hallway after training. Zell had scampered off to the cafeteria - as always - so Irvine decided to walk Squall to his room. And talk. About nothing.
And what a hell of a lot of nothing the boy could yammer on about.
Even after protests and pleas that Squall had gotten dirt and grat scum down his leathers and had to take a shower, Irvine followed, simply '"feeling too chatty to go to his own dorm right away."
"Yah, man, so after that I realized that she was talking to me about some other guy, and I was all, 'No, no way," ..." Squall watched Irvine gesticulate wildly in the air as his voice again became a mild drone in his head.
Squall swiped his keycard in the pad by his door, watching as it swung open. He stepped inside, meaning to close the door in the other boy's yapping face - yah, it was mean, but it was the only way to tell him off.
But ... Irvine leaned into the room, casually wedging his fingers between the door and wall.
(Crap. Didn't wanna have to hurt him,) Squall swore.
"Didn't go as well as I had planned last night. She wouldn't let me ..." he said, voice suddenly weakening. He wavered in the doorway and probably would have fallen if he wasn't clinging white-knuckled to the doorjamb. "Oh, man," he breathed. His fingers slipped as his knees gave out.
"Irvine?" Squall caught him in his arms as he fell, but the boy was too heavy and he stumbled to his knees as he dragged the comatose cowboy in. He heard the door swoosh closed as he smacked Irvine lightly. "Hey!" He smacked harder. "Kinneas, wake up. Kinneas! What's wrong with you?"
He was answered as his own vision blurred and his head grew rapidly woozy.
"Oh."
(That's what's wrong ...)
He collapsed onto his friend's chest ...
...And blinked his eyes open to the smoky din of the bar in Winhill.
He - Laguna - reached out for the mug of beer in front of him. His head felt woozy from previous drinks as he drained the glass, wiping foam from his upper lip with the back of his hand.
Laguna clumsily chucked the glass back down on the table, looking up at Kiros. The dark man was looking around the nearly empty room, holding his own beer lightly between two hands.
Laguna stretched and followed Kiros' eyes with his own.
"Whatcha lookin' at?"
Kiros turned to his friend and grinned. "Nothing in particular. Why?"
"No reason in particular." His face was lit by a familiar wide grin reaching up to sparkle purely in his eyes.
Kiros grinned from behind his mug as he took a tentative sip. "Ooo - there goes Julia. Going to push your luck once more this evening?"
Heaving a great sigh, Laguna answered, "Nope. Thought I'd give her the night off tonight, you know?"
Kiros nodded. "Oh - You mean you are going to nurse your poor broken ego all night instead."
"That's not what I said!" Laguna huffed as he motioned to the bartender across the room for a refill.
"That is what you meant," Kiros said correctly to his friend from behind the bartender pouring more bottom-class booze in both their cups.
(Like this guy really needs more ...)
Laguna nursed his full mug once more, watching Julia retreat gracefully up the stairs to the main part of the hotel, the long train of her timelessly classical red dress trailing in her wake. Without her, the piano player continued alone, playing a sad little ditty that made Laguna tear up inside.
(Hyne, what a sap.)
The 'journalist' found his eyes once again wandering, settling on his drinking partner's face. "So," he started, accepting another refill. "You think Ward's doing all right?"
"He said he was all right in his letter. You got one too, remember?"
"Yah, but I still have to wonder. I wouldn't wanna be a prison guard, personally." He shrugged, "But if that's what he wants ..."
Kiros nodded, raising his mug to his thick lips once again. They drank in silence until Laguna's mug was once again drained.
Laguna always felt compelled to fill the silence, even if he had nothing to talk about.
Sometimes he sang.
Like then.
He purred his favorite folk song lightly, only slightly off key. He changed the tune to match that of the pianist's. As the next song filled the air, Laguna sang the words he knew actually went with the song.
Kiros watched him, entranced. Laguna swirled the empty mug between his hands, looking up to his friend again. Kiros had a tiny grin spread across his face.
Laguna stopped singing. "What?" he slurred, "Whatcha lookin' at now, huh?"
"How can you do that?"
(Why would you do that? Hyne, my ears are bleeding.)
"Do what?" Laguna challenged.
"How can you just burst out in song?"
"- Didn't burst ..." he frowned.
Kiros cocked his head slightly to the side. "You just sing, though you are not that good. Amazing."
Laguna shrugged smugly. "'t's pretty amazing, huh ... What'dya mean, not that good!?"
(He means don't quit your day job, you lummox. Whatever good you are at it ...)
"No offense, Laguna, friend, " Kiros said as he patted the man on the forearm, "But don't quit your day job."
(A man with sense!)
Laguna frowned. "That wasn't nice."
"The truth rarely is ..."
Laguna accepted yet another round of beer for the two of them. He drank half the glass, slowly this time, and looked back up at Kiros. "You know, Kiros," he began.
The other man nodded. "Yes, I know Kiros. Rather strange man, if you ask me," he said with a smile.
"Shut it, man, I'm not kidding here. You know ..." he started again.
Kiros nodded and waited. "Yes," he urged.
Laguna heaved a sigh. "I wish you were a girl ..."
The man did a spit take across the table, spraying the smudgy wood with a mouthful of foamy beer. He swiped at it with a napkin, looking up at Laguna. "What did you say?"
"Well, I know what to do with a pretty girl," Laguna said from behind his mug as if the answer was blazingly obvious.
Kiros shook his head. "Yes, Laguna, you know how to get rejected. Very well, may I add."
Laguna snickered sarcastically from across the table. He tipped his glass up again.
Picking up his own mug, Kiros looked deep into its amber depths and asked cautiously, "And what, may I ask, would you do exactly if I was a girl, Laguna?"
The shorter man giggled. "Now I am not drunk enough to tell you that one!"
"Is that so? How many will it take, then? I will pay..." he offered.
Laguna shrugged. "Pay away, buddy. See if you can wrench it outta me - I dares ya!"
"All right." Kiros motioned for another beer for his friend. Laguna drank it, stubbornly keeping his mouth closed between gulps, though the silence was getting rather overbearing. He clenched his teeth shut and let the silence thicken overhead rather than let anything slip to his friend watching him intently from across the table.
Another beer and Laguna thought the silence would implode his head. he tapped his fingers on the table louder than was necessary and watched Kiros watch him.
"'R' we gonna do this all night?" he finally said.
"Why? Are you getting tired?" Kiros teased.
Laguna hmphed. "A good journalist never sleeps."
"All right. When you actually write an article you may use that line, but not until then. You need to find some other way to sound like an idiot."
He got all huffy at that comment. "I do not sound like an idiot!"
"All right, Laguna. If you say so."
The short man nodded in agreement. "That's the right idea, my pretty friend." He didn't notice his slip of tongue, but Kiros surely did.
(This guy's drunk off his ass.)
"Are you finally drunk enough, Laguna?"
"Pro'lly fairly hammered, yep. Smashed, wasted, drunk-off-my-ass," he listed playfully.
"Drunk enough to answer my question?"
Laguna's face scrunched up. "What question?" Kiros grinned at him, chuckling lightly under his breath. "What? I-I didn' do nothin'. Why're ya lookin' at me like that?" He cowered slightly under Kiros' gentle scrutiny. "Stare long enough and ya won't be able to look away ..."
"I have not been able to look away in years, Laguna."
"You're weird. Weird, but I like you," Laguna confided.
"You like me? How do you like me?"
"Well," Laguna started, putting on his patented smart-guy face, "First you emit ... um ... Ferrari-mones, which I smell without smelling, you know, and I like you. Simple chemistry, my friend. And maybe some entry-level physics." He nodded.
Kiros said in an offhand manner, eyebrows raised, "Well, Laguna, I am sure glad you were not the one to teach me sciences."
"Eh? Too much knowledge fer ya?"
"Yes. Sure. If you want." The tall man rolled his eyes at his smug friend. Laguna didn't even notice. After a few deep breaths, Kiros gathered his patience and started again. "So, you like my pheromones?"
"Among other things," Laguna slurred.
Kiros took a sip of his beer. "That so."
"That's so."
"Laguna." The man snapped his head up at the sound of his name and Kiros continued, "You do know that two men can like each other, right? I - I don't have to be a girl."
The smaller man nodded.
"Do you like me even though I am a man, or because I am a man?"
With a shrug, Laguna answered, "I like you because you are you. You're weird. You're pretty. You're my friend and I like you."
"You like me just as a friend?"
Laguna's face flushed deeper than the alcohol had colored it. "No," he whispered.
With that confirmation, Kiros leaned over the table and took the mug from between Laguna's twitchy hands. He raised a gentle hand to push the man's ruffled hair from his face and kissed him gently.
(Whoa.)
Kiros' lips were gentle but persistent, pressing against Laguna's slack mouth with ceaseless pressure. His tongue slid between Laguna's lips, running around the inside of the man's mouth, sliding curiously over the wet surfaces.
Laguna moaned and leaned into Kiros' touch fervently. He wrapped a hand around Kiros' neck and brought him closer, further into his mouth.
(Oh. This is ... nice. I - wonder if Irvine knows that I'm ... um, kind of here ... too. Yess. Harder ... )
Kiros' kisses became more desperate, sucking at Laguna's lips. Laguna in turn leaned further into the arms of his friend, practically climbing onto the table to do so. He felt Kiros break out of his grasp, gasping slightly for air.
"I - I think we should go upstairs."
Hands still wound around the man's neck, Laguna nodded desperately.
Kiros grinned. "You will have to let me go, then, Laguna my friend."
"Don' wanna," he muttered as he nuzzled Kiros' neck. His skin smelled very clean and fresh, and slightly of blade oil. Kiros nibbled the shell of Laguna's ear lightly, toying with it between his teeth as he reached into Laguna's back pocket and extracted a handful of Gil.
Laguna jumped as Kiros' long hand played down his back and down his butt. He pulled back, a little shocked. A sly grin was spread across Kiros' dark face. He set his pilfered change on the table and pulled out of Laguna's grasp. He stalked around the table , brushing against Laguna's back, and started across the room.
Laguna stood up and turned in time to see Kiros motion for him to follow up the stairs. He quickly drained the last dregs of booze in his mug and darted up the stairs. He watched Kiros open their door at the end of the hall and rushed in after him.
The two were walking down the dormitory hallway after training. Zell had scampered off to the cafeteria - as always - so Irvine decided to walk Squall to his room. And talk. About nothing.
And what a hell of a lot of nothing the boy could yammer on about.
Even after protests and pleas that Squall had gotten dirt and grat scum down his leathers and had to take a shower, Irvine followed, simply '"feeling too chatty to go to his own dorm right away."
"Yah, man, so after that I realized that she was talking to me about some other guy, and I was all, 'No, no way," ..." Squall watched Irvine gesticulate wildly in the air as his voice again became a mild drone in his head.
Squall swiped his keycard in the pad by his door, watching as it swung open. He stepped inside, meaning to close the door in the other boy's yapping face - yah, it was mean, but it was the only way to tell him off.
But ... Irvine leaned into the room, casually wedging his fingers between the door and wall.
(Crap. Didn't wanna have to hurt him,) Squall swore.
"Didn't go as well as I had planned last night. She wouldn't let me ..." he said, voice suddenly weakening. He wavered in the doorway and probably would have fallen if he wasn't clinging white-knuckled to the doorjamb. "Oh, man," he breathed. His fingers slipped as his knees gave out.
"Irvine?" Squall caught him in his arms as he fell, but the boy was too heavy and he stumbled to his knees as he dragged the comatose cowboy in. He heard the door swoosh closed as he smacked Irvine lightly. "Hey!" He smacked harder. "Kinneas, wake up. Kinneas! What's wrong with you?"
He was answered as his own vision blurred and his head grew rapidly woozy.
"Oh."
(That's what's wrong ...)
He collapsed onto his friend's chest ...
...And blinked his eyes open to the smoky din of the bar in Winhill.
He - Laguna - reached out for the mug of beer in front of him. His head felt woozy from previous drinks as he drained the glass, wiping foam from his upper lip with the back of his hand.
Laguna clumsily chucked the glass back down on the table, looking up at Kiros. The dark man was looking around the nearly empty room, holding his own beer lightly between two hands.
Laguna stretched and followed Kiros' eyes with his own.
"Whatcha lookin' at?"
Kiros turned to his friend and grinned. "Nothing in particular. Why?"
"No reason in particular." His face was lit by a familiar wide grin reaching up to sparkle purely in his eyes.
Kiros grinned from behind his mug as he took a tentative sip. "Ooo - there goes Julia. Going to push your luck once more this evening?"
Heaving a great sigh, Laguna answered, "Nope. Thought I'd give her the night off tonight, you know?"
Kiros nodded. "Oh - You mean you are going to nurse your poor broken ego all night instead."
"That's not what I said!" Laguna huffed as he motioned to the bartender across the room for a refill.
"That is what you meant," Kiros said correctly to his friend from behind the bartender pouring more bottom-class booze in both their cups.
(Like this guy really needs more ...)
Laguna nursed his full mug once more, watching Julia retreat gracefully up the stairs to the main part of the hotel, the long train of her timelessly classical red dress trailing in her wake. Without her, the piano player continued alone, playing a sad little ditty that made Laguna tear up inside.
(Hyne, what a sap.)
The 'journalist' found his eyes once again wandering, settling on his drinking partner's face. "So," he started, accepting another refill. "You think Ward's doing all right?"
"He said he was all right in his letter. You got one too, remember?"
"Yah, but I still have to wonder. I wouldn't wanna be a prison guard, personally." He shrugged, "But if that's what he wants ..."
Kiros nodded, raising his mug to his thick lips once again. They drank in silence until Laguna's mug was once again drained.
Laguna always felt compelled to fill the silence, even if he had nothing to talk about.
Sometimes he sang.
Like then.
He purred his favorite folk song lightly, only slightly off key. He changed the tune to match that of the pianist's. As the next song filled the air, Laguna sang the words he knew actually went with the song.
Kiros watched him, entranced. Laguna swirled the empty mug between his hands, looking up to his friend again. Kiros had a tiny grin spread across his face.
Laguna stopped singing. "What?" he slurred, "Whatcha lookin' at now, huh?"
"How can you do that?"
(Why would you do that? Hyne, my ears are bleeding.)
"Do what?" Laguna challenged.
"How can you just burst out in song?"
"- Didn't burst ..." he frowned.
Kiros cocked his head slightly to the side. "You just sing, though you are not that good. Amazing."
Laguna shrugged smugly. "'t's pretty amazing, huh ... What'dya mean, not that good!?"
(He means don't quit your day job, you lummox. Whatever good you are at it ...)
"No offense, Laguna, friend, " Kiros said as he patted the man on the forearm, "But don't quit your day job."
(A man with sense!)
Laguna frowned. "That wasn't nice."
"The truth rarely is ..."
Laguna accepted yet another round of beer for the two of them. He drank half the glass, slowly this time, and looked back up at Kiros. "You know, Kiros," he began.
The other man nodded. "Yes, I know Kiros. Rather strange man, if you ask me," he said with a smile.
"Shut it, man, I'm not kidding here. You know ..." he started again.
Kiros nodded and waited. "Yes," he urged.
Laguna heaved a sigh. "I wish you were a girl ..."
The man did a spit take across the table, spraying the smudgy wood with a mouthful of foamy beer. He swiped at it with a napkin, looking up at Laguna. "What did you say?"
"Well, I know what to do with a pretty girl," Laguna said from behind his mug as if the answer was blazingly obvious.
Kiros shook his head. "Yes, Laguna, you know how to get rejected. Very well, may I add."
Laguna snickered sarcastically from across the table. He tipped his glass up again.
Picking up his own mug, Kiros looked deep into its amber depths and asked cautiously, "And what, may I ask, would you do exactly if I was a girl, Laguna?"
The shorter man giggled. "Now I am not drunk enough to tell you that one!"
"Is that so? How many will it take, then? I will pay..." he offered.
Laguna shrugged. "Pay away, buddy. See if you can wrench it outta me - I dares ya!"
"All right." Kiros motioned for another beer for his friend. Laguna drank it, stubbornly keeping his mouth closed between gulps, though the silence was getting rather overbearing. He clenched his teeth shut and let the silence thicken overhead rather than let anything slip to his friend watching him intently from across the table.
Another beer and Laguna thought the silence would implode his head. he tapped his fingers on the table louder than was necessary and watched Kiros watch him.
"'R' we gonna do this all night?" he finally said.
"Why? Are you getting tired?" Kiros teased.
Laguna hmphed. "A good journalist never sleeps."
"All right. When you actually write an article you may use that line, but not until then. You need to find some other way to sound like an idiot."
He got all huffy at that comment. "I do not sound like an idiot!"
"All right, Laguna. If you say so."
The short man nodded in agreement. "That's the right idea, my pretty friend." He didn't notice his slip of tongue, but Kiros surely did.
(This guy's drunk off his ass.)
"Are you finally drunk enough, Laguna?"
"Pro'lly fairly hammered, yep. Smashed, wasted, drunk-off-my-ass," he listed playfully.
"Drunk enough to answer my question?"
Laguna's face scrunched up. "What question?" Kiros grinned at him, chuckling lightly under his breath. "What? I-I didn' do nothin'. Why're ya lookin' at me like that?" He cowered slightly under Kiros' gentle scrutiny. "Stare long enough and ya won't be able to look away ..."
"I have not been able to look away in years, Laguna."
"You're weird. Weird, but I like you," Laguna confided.
"You like me? How do you like me?"
"Well," Laguna started, putting on his patented smart-guy face, "First you emit ... um ... Ferrari-mones, which I smell without smelling, you know, and I like you. Simple chemistry, my friend. And maybe some entry-level physics." He nodded.
Kiros said in an offhand manner, eyebrows raised, "Well, Laguna, I am sure glad you were not the one to teach me sciences."
"Eh? Too much knowledge fer ya?"
"Yes. Sure. If you want." The tall man rolled his eyes at his smug friend. Laguna didn't even notice. After a few deep breaths, Kiros gathered his patience and started again. "So, you like my pheromones?"
"Among other things," Laguna slurred.
Kiros took a sip of his beer. "That so."
"That's so."
"Laguna." The man snapped his head up at the sound of his name and Kiros continued, "You do know that two men can like each other, right? I - I don't have to be a girl."
The smaller man nodded.
"Do you like me even though I am a man, or because I am a man?"
With a shrug, Laguna answered, "I like you because you are you. You're weird. You're pretty. You're my friend and I like you."
"You like me just as a friend?"
Laguna's face flushed deeper than the alcohol had colored it. "No," he whispered.
With that confirmation, Kiros leaned over the table and took the mug from between Laguna's twitchy hands. He raised a gentle hand to push the man's ruffled hair from his face and kissed him gently.
(Whoa.)
Kiros' lips were gentle but persistent, pressing against Laguna's slack mouth with ceaseless pressure. His tongue slid between Laguna's lips, running around the inside of the man's mouth, sliding curiously over the wet surfaces.
Laguna moaned and leaned into Kiros' touch fervently. He wrapped a hand around Kiros' neck and brought him closer, further into his mouth.
(Oh. This is ... nice. I - wonder if Irvine knows that I'm ... um, kind of here ... too. Yess. Harder ... )
Kiros' kisses became more desperate, sucking at Laguna's lips. Laguna in turn leaned further into the arms of his friend, practically climbing onto the table to do so. He felt Kiros break out of his grasp, gasping slightly for air.
"I - I think we should go upstairs."
Hands still wound around the man's neck, Laguna nodded desperately.
Kiros grinned. "You will have to let me go, then, Laguna my friend."
"Don' wanna," he muttered as he nuzzled Kiros' neck. His skin smelled very clean and fresh, and slightly of blade oil. Kiros nibbled the shell of Laguna's ear lightly, toying with it between his teeth as he reached into Laguna's back pocket and extracted a handful of Gil.
Laguna jumped as Kiros' long hand played down his back and down his butt. He pulled back, a little shocked. A sly grin was spread across Kiros' dark face. He set his pilfered change on the table and pulled out of Laguna's grasp. He stalked around the table , brushing against Laguna's back, and started across the room.
Laguna stood up and turned in time to see Kiros motion for him to follow up the stairs. He quickly drained the last dregs of booze in his mug and darted up the stairs. He watched Kiros open their door at the end of the hall and rushed in after him.