Blood is thicker than water; and friendship is thicker than both.

—Unknown

Chapter Three

Esthar, as always, was strangely cold and completely desolate. Still, Irvine figured it would be pleasant to spend time in the sprawling technological metropolis, even if it was under the mostly watchful eye of Laguna Loire and his advisers.

Kiros Seagill had been at FH, accompanied by a young gentlemen in full Esthar uniform except for mask, to pick him up just as Laguna had said. He'd smiled politely at Irvine, taken one of the thin luggage bags Irvine had with him, and climbed onto the train car they were taking to Seaside Station.

Irvine was treated as he had expected—the soldier dutifully ignored him, except to cast slow glances over him; and Kiros attempted quiet small talk with him, until he deemed it hopeless in the face of Irvine's silent moodiness.

At the station, they piled into a car with another soldier. Kiros was giving the two soldiers, seated in the front seat, harsh little glances, and Irvine found himself lifted from his mood a little.

He spoke in the quiet dialect of Galbadia and asked, "Are they always like this?"

"Like what?" Kiros asked in kind, glancing over at Irvine. He gestured at the two Estharin soldiers, a slightly amused smile on his lips.

"Completely avoidant of making eye contact. And traveling in packs."

"There have been some threats against Laguna's presidency lately. He wanted to make sure I—we were safe." The slip up was fast but noticeable. Irvine offered a slightly larger smile to the dark skinned man.

"So," he pondered conversationally, "how long have you and Laguna been 'tween the sheets?"

"Is that really any of your business?"

"Well, I am going to be staying for at least a month. Wouldn't want to walk in on anythi—ow!" Irvine rubbed his scalp, rather indignant. He hadn't had anyone pull his hair since he'd begun growing it in his Galbadia Garden days. Kiros' face was still stoic and neutral. "Oh yeah. Real mature."

"We'll put a rubberband on the door so you don't walk in on anything."

"How many rubberbands will I find?"

"Depends what kind of mood I'm in." Irvine was sure that if he had been drinking something it would have shot out of his nose in indignant surprise. He gave Kiros a sharp look—awe mixed with some twisted, interested horror.

"But you're all . . . old and shit. And you still—?"

"Really, Irvine," Kiros murmured, a smirk on his thin lips. The car entered the lift into the city. "It's none of your business."

"Hey kiddo."

Laguna gave him a surprisingly strong hug, and Irvine laughed softly despite himself, returning the embrace. It was a little sad and perhaps surprising, that at twenty-three the closest thing he had to a family was his orphanage friend's estranged father and his cohorts.

"You're looking good," Laguna said, pushing Irvine's bangs out of his eyes. "You're skinny though."

"And you aren't my dad," Irvine pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I tried it with my kid, and he just glares at me and threatens to have me shot." Laguna pouted a little.

Kiros, standing at his shoulder, chimed in, "You were getting annoying, Laguna. Like you are now. Let the boy breathe." Laguna chuckled nervously and took a step back, rubbing the back of his neck. He stepped away, saying something to the soldiers milling aimlessly about how he really could escort their guest all by his lonesome.

Kiros, standing next to Irvine, smothered a bit of quiet laughter as Irvine made a small whip-snap noise at Laguna's back. He shook his head, smiling a little as he muttered, "You have no idea."

The room they put him in was cold and impersonal, but that was alright. He'd stayed in Esthar enough times that he knew where the thermostat was, and it wasn't like was planning on moving in or anything; it would work for now, and was far enough away from the apartments of Laguna and his advisers that Irvine wouldn't have to worry about being too quiet it he happened to meet a nice, easy Estharin girl.

It was several hours before he was 'settled'—his room raised to an appropriate temperature and his meager things tucked into the chest of drawers—when Kiros arrived and said, "Laguna wants you to have dinner with us."

"That's a nice way of saying he's gonna ask me to stay, isn't it?" Kiros just shrugged a little. Irvine sighed, grabbing his hat and stepping out into the hall to walk—and ride the inter-room lifts—in silence until they reached the personal dining room of the president.

Laguna had a circular table—and wasn't that just a prideful bit of furniture—and smiled as Irvine and Kiros stepped in. Ward sat on his left, followed by two young women; then Doctor Odine, talking animatedly with an older woman who sat exactly across from Laguna. There were three empty spaces between that woman and the spot that Kiros took directly to Laguna's right; Irvine took a spot across from one of the young women.

The girl smiled across the table at him, and he summoned a cheeky grin. She was clearly not Estharin by birth—Estharin women were very demure in nature, and this girl just had a look about her. Her hair was a medium brown, escaping from under her headdress, and her eyes were pale green from a distance. She had freckles and a fair complexion, and spoke with the slightest of Trabian accents.

Laguna talked animatedly through dinner, making sure everyone was engaged at some point or another. When he got a bit fiery about whatever they were discussing, Kiros was subtle about calming him back down—he would touch his arm or give him a look, and Laguna would tone everything down. They were comfortable and easy; Irvine wondered, at some deep level he didn't like to admit to other people that it existed, if he'd ever have that easy camaraderie with someone else.

After dinner, as Irvine was retracing his steps back to his guest room, the Trabian girl found him. She smiled; she wasn't wearing her headdress, and sure enough her hair was a soft chocolate color, pinned back on the crown of her head prettily.

She asked him back to her apartment—as an Adviser, she had quite an extensive room set-up. He smiled, and let himself be guided back to her room.

And so, that night, he had to worry a little about who might hear them on that floor.

Under her formal outfit, she was a pale-skinned beauty with several tattoos and piercing in rather interesting locations that made him cock a brow and ask imploringly what had spurred those ideas along. She just laughed and smiled, and kissed him like she was drowning. Irvine enjoyed kissing, perhaps more than he enjoyed a good blow-job, and this woman was a good kisser.

She was also a screamer. Her nails bit into his shoulder as he played with her small breasts; and she made loud, airy noises as he fucked her, her legs rising to wrap around his legs and bring him closer.

Fingers busy as always, she came before him, and slumped tiredly, panting for breath. She grinned when he pulled her up and brought her face close to his cock; and proved that her kisses were just as good as her blow jobs.

Sated, and in a much better mood than he had been in when he'd left Balamb, he waited until she had fallen asleep, before gathering together his clothing, dressing quickly, and stepping out into the hall.

Just a few steps away from the door, Laguna's easy, lightly accented voice sounded behind him: "Aren't you in trouble for messing around with the wrong people, Irvine?"

Slowly, Irvine turned around, and found Kiros and Laguna both standing there, looking every bit like reprimanding parents that had found him sneaking in late. He grabbed his ponytail, playing with the very end of it, and excused lamely, "It was her idea."

"Yeah, well, you just fucked my Chief of Electricity," Laguna grumbled, tapping a foot and looking a little more than peevish. "And you did it loudly."

"Are you kicking me out too?" Irvine grumbled, feeling his elation slowly whisking away from him. Laguna shook his head, rolling his eyes a little.

"I'm not saying that," he said, staring at the floor for a second. He was absolutely silent, before looking at Kiros as though the darker man knew exactly how to say what he wanted to say; Kiros probably did to.

And Kiros did: "Yammi has a fiancée. And a big mouth."

After three weeks, Irvine received a call from Quistis. She looked rattled, annoyed, and a little indignant over his vid-comm. Irvine, having just woken from a rather pleasant nap, stared at her for a second before asking as he rubbed his eyes, "Do I still have a job?"

"Maybe."

"That's not much of an answer," Irvine informed her, a bit more awake than he had been when he'd asked the question. He tried a different line; "Can I come back to Balamb Garden?"

"You're on probation."

"Well, duh. I take it I'm paying for my way back?"

"Of course." Of course. Squall wasn't a good enough person to wire a ticket to FH or Timber, so it would be on Irvine's dime to get back.

"How long do I have to get back?"

"A week. And Irvine?" He looked up from being ready to switch off the vid-comm, and cocked a brow. Quistis smiled a little and said, "Congratulations. You managed to actually teach someone to a level where they passed the SeeD exam."

"I did? It was Gordon, right? That girl's a genius."

"I know," Quistis agreed. She nodded resolutely, and said, "I'll see you soon Irvy. And try not to mess yourself up this time."

Three days after Quistis had informed him that his suspension was over, Irvine bid farewell to Laguna, Kiros and Ward, was driven to the Seaside Station, and caught a train going through FH to Timber, where he would connect for a second ride back to Balamb.

So, with three days before he was to be reinstated as an Instructor, Irvine dropped his things off in his tiny Instructor's apartments, and then hurried to the third floor to thank Squall profusely for not canning his ass.

It was after day-class hours, and Squall's secretary was just finishing up a few things before heading off to her night-classes. She smiled at Irvine gently and said, "Welcome back, Instructor Kinneas. Shall I tell Commander Leonheart you're here?"

"That'd be great . . . uh . . . Simione, right?"

"That's right, Instructor Kinneas!" the girl chimed, obviously very pleased that someone remembered her name. It was an unusual but pleasant name. He sat on the edge of her desk as she pressed her intercom, announced his arrival, and smiled when she looked back up at him.

"So, were you in this last exam?" She blushed a little.

"Yes, sir. I didn't make it, though."

"What were you doing this year?"

"A movement out in Centra. Their army has been a bit edgy about Timber's lately, and Miss Heartilly commissioned Commander Leonheart for some SeeD to help quell any issues between the two. Meya's out in Timber now; got stationed with a few boys to help make sure everything stays quiet."

"Sounds tough," he murmured consolingly. Simione nodded emphatically, and looked about ready to open her mouth and start talking again when the intercom buzzed and Squall said Irvine could come in. He smiled at the young secretary and said, "There's always next year. What weapon are you specializing in?"

"Hand-to-hand. Professor Dincht is so cool." She got a bit dreamy-eyed as she said that, and Irvine chuckled.

Some small part of him wondered if Zell knew young Simione had a thing for him; he quashed that voice—and the resounding jealous decision that Squall wouldn't mind if Zell slept with a student—and stepped into Squall's office just as the brunette was looking up from the papers on his desk.

"What was with the hold up? I'm not complaining; Simione's a great conversationalist, but I was beginning to think you had Rinoa back in here." Squall scowled a little and rolled his eyes.

"Whatever."

"Wanna hear how my 'vacation' went?"

"Not particularly," Squall muttered, comparing something on his paperwork. Irvine sauntered over to the desk, and settled against the back leg, smiling at the door. It was nice to be back.

After a moment of quiet, he said, "Hey, I found out something interesting about one Mr. Laguna Loire, President of Esthar."

"Really." Squall sounded perfectly uninterested with whatever Irvine had to tell him. Irvine laughed softly and nodded, even though Squall couldn't see him.

"Come out to dinner with me and I'll tell you what it is." Irvine wasn't entirely sure what made him say that. And apparently, from the scratching sound of Squall's pen abruptly stopping, the young Commander wasn't quite sure how to take it either. The redhead rotated around so he was looking over Squall's desk, meeting the brunette's surprised expression, and said, "Like, drinks or something. Two guy friends. Getting drinks."

"I'm . . . busy." It was a lame excuse, and it made Irvine cock a brow in question. It was common for Squall to rebel against ideas of social interaction, but it was rare for him to turn down cheap drinks—he was strange like that. Irvine sat up on his knees and crossed his arms on the desk. "Really. I have to review the reports for the SeeDs in Timber and—."

"Do them in the morning. C'mon. Just a couple of drinks." He pouted cutely, fluttering his eyelashes. "I've missed you, Mr Commander, sir. Indulge me."

"You're an ass."

"Yup! And you're going to come drinking with me."

And somehow, Irvine wasn't quite sure how, that appeared just the push Squall needed to step out from behind his desk.

An hour later—Squall wanted to change out of uniform, or he got funny looks in Balamb—they were sitting at a bar, ordered Galbadian ports and Squall was filling Irvine in on the exact details of the SeeD exam. It was, despite Simione's brief description, quite a bit harder than Irvine's had been—they're graduating class (Seifer included; he'd become a professor at Trabia Garden after his SeeD appointment) had been stationed out near Shumi Village, where they had been complaining of monsters left over from Time Compression terrorizing the merchants that came through.

After they were very heavily into their cups, Squall looked at Irvine skeptically and said, "You took me out drinking to tell me something."

"Oh!" Irvine laughed softly, and smiled proudly at his bit of gossip. "So, after leaving you that lovely audio message on your personal line—."

"Rinoa threw a fit at how much you swore."

"Goodie for her—anyway, I call Laguna, right, because I don't have anywhere else to go, and not enough gil to get down to Matron's orphanage, so. Yeah. So I call—cute little receptionist; really blue eyes—and he patches me through—."

"Wait,he?" Irvine blinked at Squall's confusion.

"Yeah. It was a guy. Twenty, maybe nineteen. Not Estharin, wasn't dressed like one either. Really tan, really blue yes, good face. Nice shoulders."

"You . . . like guys?" Squall seemed totally surprised by this, but Irvine just stared at him evenly.

Then, after a moment, he said, "Squally. Have you met me?"

"Right," Squall muttered, as though he understood perfectly now. He took a drink of his port, and encouraged Irvine to keep talking. The redhead inclined his head in mock thanks, cleared his throat, and took another drink.

"Anyway," he continued as he set his tankard down. "He patches the call through, and Laguna—obviously sexed, obviously just woken up—answers the vid-comm. We talk-talk-talk for a while, when: oh who is that I hear in the background? A man?"

Squall's face blanched a little. Irvine grinned, leaned his elbow on the bar and waggled his brows a little. "Wanna guess who?"

"Kiros?"

"On the nose, my pretty friend! Kiros and your dad are 'tween the sheets. At least five times while I was at the palace. And once in Laguna's office, which totally wigged me out."

"Huh." Squall looked contemplative for a moment, before shrugging. "I'd wondered . . ."

"Really? I didn't. Even when we were all . . . in their heads and shit, I never even got a vibe off either of them as being all comfy cozy."

"They aren't." Irvine snorted a little, drawing an askance look from Squall.

"They're pretty lovey-dovey, actually. I'm kinda jealous." Irvine shrugged, tracing a water-stain on the bar top. "Anyway. That's my gossip. Think we're ready to go back?"

He wasn't entirely sure how it happened. Perhaps everything in their friendship had been a prelude to it, but it was still surprising, even full of alcohol and mirth, to have Squall kiss him lightly on the mouth and pull him into his room by the hem of his vest.

When they woke the next morning, Irvine was pleasantly sore and warm, wrapped in strong, wiry arms. It was only the third time he'd woken up with a man in bed with him, but that morning he had no reason to be skeptical and full of wrath. After all, it wasn't his bed.

Squall was just waking up when Irvine stepped out of the shower with a towel around his waist, looking around for his clothes.

"Irvine?"

"Have you seen my pants?"

"Desk chair," Squall said with an absent gesture towards the dark jeans. He was watching Irvine with carefully guarded eyes while Irvine pulled on the jeans and found the rest of his clothing. "Irvine?" And Irvine made a soft noise as he shrugged into his vest, encouraging Squall. "What did we do last night?"

Irvine stopped his dressing and looked over at Squall with one brow cocked curiously. Still, Squall kept watching him with that perturbed and slightly worried expression.

Irvine couldn't keep the laughter in, even if it was a rather hateful laugh.