Water rippled, clear and warm, around Squall's bare feet as he idly swished them around. He'd removed his shoes, plain white socks rolled up neatly inside them, and pulled his pant legs up to keep them dry. He was sitting back, his weight on his arms propped behind him; the eyes were closed, but his face was turned up to the sun like some exotic flower.
The bridge of his nose was burned slightly pink.
Irvine watched Squall like that, utterly motionless, for several minutes. He finally decided that letting Squall get sunburned would be a bad idea. He moved silently to Squall's side and crouched down. "You should get out of the sun, paleface," he said quietly, the smile on his face readily apparent in his voice.
Squall didn't respond. Irvine waited for some reaction, finally deciding that Squall was asleep before he heard a faint sigh.
Rolling his head languidly to one side, Squall half-opened stormy eyes. "Not yet," he said.
"You're going to burn."
"I'll take a potion later. Or something." Squall opened his eyes fully, although the rest of him stayed the same. "Sit with me?" He studied Irvine, how the pale blond of his hair offset the gentle violet of his eyes. How, without the coat, it was easier to see the graceful lines of his body under the thin shirt. Even the purple vest didn't seem wrong; it just accented his eyes.
Irvine, for his part, noticed the scrutiny, but was unclear as to what it might mean. "Sure," he answered at last. He sat down and mimicked Squall; pulling off his tall boots and socks, he rolled up his leathers and trailed his feet in the clear water. They both turned their faces to the sun.
"This is nice," Irvine said after a bit. "Relaxing."
"Yes. I've been told I need to relax more." Squall paused a moment before saying, in the same everyday voice, "Selphie tells me that you were teasing me yesterday."
"Yeah. Sorry about that. I just couldn't help myself."
"Why?"
"You're just too pretty for me not to. At first it was an act for Selphie, to get the point across, but then it was because you looked so adorable in my hat… I couldn't resist." Irvine smiled at the memory.
"No," Squall said, still not looking at anything. "I meant, why tease at all? Why not ask for real?"
Irvine gaped, speechless.
"You're a very attractive man, Irvine. You don't know that I wouldn't have said yes."
"But… you said you aren't gay!"
"Did I? Are you sure?"
Thinking back, Irvine realized that Squall had only asked in what way he seemed to be gay. He'd never actually denied it. "So, does that mean you are gay?" Irvine asked.
"No."
"Then why—"
"I don't know what I am. I've had a lot thrown at me lately, and I'm trying to sort it out." He finally turned to look at Irvine. "I can only go with facts right now. One, you are an attractive man. Two, that kiss yesterday felt very good."
"And three?"
"Three doesn't apply to you." Squall smiled, the devilish grin that seemed to have been born only days ago but seemed to show up with increasing regularity. "Somewhere about seven or eight is the fact that I like being around you."
Chuckling, Irvine playfully punched Squall in the arm.
Squall retaliated with a sharp poke to the ribs.
Irvine pushed Squall.
Squall pushed Irvine.
They grappled together, both laughing at the sheer silliness of it all.
Squall kissed Irvine.
Irvine froze, too shocked to respond to the lips touching his, entreating him to come out and play some more.
Pulling back from Irvine's wooden body, Squall frowned. He shook his head, opalescent hair flying around him in a shining halo. He tried to speak, but could think of nothing to say to that blank face staring down at him. He looked down, embarrassed and ashamed.
A hesitant touch on his cheek made him look up again. Irvine, wearing a puzzled smile, was inspecting him. "You surprised me."
"Just forget it."
"No can do, sweetheart. Why'd you do it?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It does." With a gentle finger under his chin, Irvine turned Squall's face so that he could meet the cloudy blue eyes. "It does matter."
"I said it before; I don't know what I am. It can't be right for me to feel this way about all of you." Pulling away from Irvine's touch, Squall looked away. "There must be something wrong with me."
"Why would anything be wrong? Exactly how do you feel about us?" Irvine watched Squall intently. "How do you feel about me?" he asked, more quietly.
"I feel about you the same as everybody else. I like you, I care about you, you're a friend. And you're beautiful. I don't know how I managed to get such a good-looking group of people around me." He tried to make it a joke. He almost succeeded. His eyes closed again.
"Look at me," Irvine ordered gently. "Look at me, and tell me what you see."
Blue eyes snapped open, then softened as Squall considered what to say. "You… you're amethyst and platinum. You're a sideways smile, a flirt, a tease. I look at you and I see the guy that always annoys Quistis with come-ons, and I see the man I had to talk into taking the shot in Deling. Now that I know why you couldn't do it at first, I see someone I admire, someone who recognized something that hurt but still did what needed to be done. I look at you and I see someone who fought beside me, who risked his life for me, who I risked my life for. And I see that in all of you!"
Squall placed his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. His next words were muffled and indistinct. "I kissed you because I need to know if I really feel attracted to all of you, or if I just can't tell friendship from something more. I didn't let myself feel for so long; now I can't distinguish just what it is that I'm feeling."
Irvine considered Squall's words as the latter lapsed into silence. They sat, side by side, kicking the water into small waves while the sun beat down on them.
Finally, Irvine spoke. "I never even considered how confused you must be. You started blocking off your emotions after Sis left and are only now letting them out again." Irvine shook his head. "You've spent over half your life denying that you felt anything; it's no wonder you can't figure out what you feel now."
Letting out a long, slow breath, Irvine reached up and rested a hand on Squall's shoulder. "This is mostly my fault—I pushed you into kissing me yesterday. It's only fair that I try to help fix it. Go ahead and kiss me."
"What?" Squall blinked, balanced somewhere between offense at the presumption and desire to do as he was asked.
"Go on, kiss me. See how you feel when you're done. I promise I'll kiss back this time, if that's what's worrying you."
"No. I'm not going to kiss you just because you feel obligated to let me."
"Trust me, I'll like it."
"No!"
"Please?"
"Irvine… stop. You're confusing me."
Smiling fondly, Irvine said, "I'd like to kiss you, but I want you to kiss me. If I kiss you it doesn't prove anything to either of us. After all, I kissed you yesterday—and enjoyed it very much, gorgeous—but if you don't make the choice to kiss me, it doesn't count. You either want to or you don't, but you have to decide."
His head had fallen back into his hands, but now Squall raised it, a fierce look in his eyes. "Irvine?"
"Hmm?"
"Shut up." Squall took his friend's face in both hands and pulled him down. They kissed, gently at first, but it quickly increased in pace and passion. Squall opened his mouth, tasted the line of Irvine's lips, then slipped inside to explore the line of teeth with his tongue.
Irvine's arms went around Squall's waist, tugged at his shirt, then ran underneath it to knead the strong, silken flesh of his back.
Squall moaned his enjoyment and pulled the band from Irvine's long hair. He threaded his hands through the heavy locks, feeling the softness falling down around Irvine's shoulders.
He was too hesitant to press further, so Irvine was delighted when Squall, never breaking the kiss, grabbed two fistfuls of shirt and dragged Irvine on top of him in a wet tangle of legs and leather, his unbound hair spilling over them both, creating a curtain from the brightness of the sun. He tried to shift his weight, so as not to crush anything sensitive on either of them, but received a painful jab from one of the multiplicity of belts.
His wince broke them apart, and he could tell that it had hurt Squall as well. "Why," Irvine asked, laughter written in his lavender eyes, "do you wear so many belts?"
"Necessity," Squall said, straight-faced.
"And how's that? So nobody can feel you up?" Irvine was propped up with both hands, looking down on a lovely, sun-pinked face, light filtered through his hair making eyes turn softly grey.
Squall smiled. "Why doesn't your gun get in your way, Kinneas?" His voice was mockingly stern.
Unsure of where Squall was going with this pop quiz of cadet knowledge, Irvine answered, "Because the para-magic bound up in the holster locks it in the void—along with my GFs—until I take it out."
"And when you draw your weapon, it has weight and mass that it previously lacked, correct?"
"Of course."
"Just how much do you think a gunblade weighs? If I didn't have all this to hold my pants up, I'd be bare-assed at the end of every battle."
Irvine burst out laughing. "I guess I never thought about it that way," he said.
"I did. I have to, because the first time I put it in my hip sheath I lost my pants."
"I'd pay to see that!" Seeing the indignant look on Squall's face, Irvine dipped down and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He changed the subject. "Feel any less confused?" A sensual purr filled his voice.
"Let me think about it," Squall replied, smiling softly, but serious. "Can I ask you something?"
"You just did."
"Something else, then," Squall said, glaring up at the lovely blond.
"Go on." Irvine was wearing a tight grin.
"Why do you flirt so much? It makes you seem… I don't know… cheap."
The grin fell away. "Flirting is flirting. I don't ask for anything more than that. If you hadn't noticed, I mostly flirt with women—you know I don't want anything more from them. I didn't do anything with you until I needed to fix that problem with Selphie, remember? I don't flirt with Zell. I'm only casual about sex when I'm not looking for it."
Squall considered asking if that meant Irvine wasn't serious about him, but decided he didn't really want to hear the answer at this point. Instead, he asked, "Why do you always harass Quistis? She hates the way you tease her."
The grin was back. "I know. She's always so uptight; I like to mess with her."
He didn't really understand that, but Squall considered that it was similar to the reason Seifer liked to pick on Zell: some targets are just too easy. "Speaking of Quistis, I've still got to clear some things up with her." He frowned. "Any idea where she might be?"
"Actually, yeah. She was going shopping with Selphie. Something about how the yellow dress clashed with her new hair."
"Let's go find them."
The grin was there in full force, violet eyes sparkling with mischief. "Can't we cuddle a little longer?"
Irvine rolled out of reach, grinning, when Squall took a half-hearted swing at him.
"Just put your shoes on."