scribblemoose: default dw icon (scarlet seduction)
[personal profile] scribblemoose posting in [community profile] sharedseduction
by [ profile] gwendolynflight & [ profile] scribblemoose

Rating: MA
Fandom: Final Fantasy 8
Series: Sniperslut in Galbadia
Words: 5300
Archive: Please ask first
Note: Irvine and Squall walk into a bar...

"Oh, come on, Squall. Please?"

Squall glowered up at Irvine from his book, impatiently blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes. It fell straight back. "No."

"It'll make you feel better."

"What will make me feel better is... not that. Not people."

Irvine sat down next to him on the bed, and tucked the offending bit of fringe behind Squall's ear. "Now, that's the old Squall talking."

Squall set the book down, conceding defeat. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you've moved on from all that 'I want to be alone' crap." Irvine moved a little closer. "You know it's not true really." He treated Squall to his warmest, most seductive smile. "Is it, now?"

"I, um." Squall glanced down. "You know it isn't. But, a bar?"

"It'll be fun," said Irvine. He knew he had to act fast, before the powers of the seductive smile wore off and Squall went back into full-on pissed off mode. It so often felt as if he had to conquer Squall every time; there were no guarantees that he wouldn't bolt.

It was one of the things Irvine most liked about him. The thrill of the chase was never over.

"I'll buy you a drink."

Squall blinked. "Why do I think I'm going to regret this?"

Irvine grinned triumphantly. "Have you ever regretted any of my little suggestions, sweetheart?"

"Sweetheart?" Squall lifted one brow, cocked his head a little to the side. "We can go if you promise never to call me that again, Kinneas."

"But you are." Irvine climbed onto the bed, straddling Squall with a knee either side of his hips. The belts dug into his thighs as he leaned back, but he didn't care. "Sweet, that is."

"Irvine," Squall sighed, leaning back onto his elbows so that he could meet Irvine's gaze.

"What?" Irvine closed his eyes, moved in for a kiss. Somewhere in his mind alarm bells were ringing, but he couldn't think of much but how good Squall felt underneath him, how incredibly soft his hair was and how good his tongue would feel in his mouth...

Squall seemed to shrink in on himself, ducked his head, turned partially away. "Not right now, okay?"

Irvine slumped back on his heels. He knew he was probably pouting. Who wouldn't, with the glory of Squall Leonhart all here on the bed, tamed fury, his for a whole weekend and yet...

"You miss Rin." If there was petulance in Irvine's tone it wasn't intentional, exactly.

Squall shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." The words muttered, and he still wouldn't look Irvine's way.

"I could take your mind off it." Irvine's fingers strayed to Squall's belts, toyed absently with the worn leather as he watched Squall.

Who batted his hands away irritably. "I'm just, I feel ...." He sighed, blowing back that strand of hair again. "Want to go kill something?"

"We could do that," said Irvine. "Except we only got back from the training centre an hour ago and I only just got the grat gunk out of my hair. There's other ways of relieving tension, after all..."

Grat gunk? "You weren't wearing your hat?" Squall asked, optimistically posing a diversion.

"The hat isn't infallible," Irvine sniffed. "I have a lot of hair. And stop changing the subject. Come to the bar with me?" And Irvine tried his secret weapon, the sexy half smile with the soft, pleading eyes, one finger twirling absently on a strand of auburn hair.

"I, um," Squall stuttered over his next thought, and looked away quickly. "What's in it for me?" he found himself asking, entirely without having meant to.

"Fun," said Irvine, gleefully, hopping off the bed and snagging Squall's leather jacket from a nearby chair. "Trust me, you'll see."

Squall caught his jacket in both hands, narrowly avoiding a mouth-full of fur. He sighed. "I trust you," he began slowly.

"Of course," said Irvine. Cocky.

Squall set down the jacket, frowned. "Not at the moment, however."

"Squall!" It came out as a disappointed whine, and Irvine slumped back down onto the bed. "Why not? Can you give me one good reason why not?"

"Because, you're ... smug, and," he shrugged. "Too determined to make me do this. Why? Why today, why only the two of us?"

"Because you don't want to have sex yet," said Irvine plaintively. "And if I leave you here alone you'll just brood. It's not healthy." His eyes narrowed a little, a gleam of devious mischief as he played his trump card. "Rinoa wouldn't like it."

Squall's brows lowered into a frown. He appeared to think it over for a moment. Then he stood, and shrugged into his jacket, settling his shoulders into the leather sleeves with a couple of swift shaking movements. Looked to Irvine. "This had better be worth it, Kinneas."

Irvine grinned broadly.

"You won't regret it," he promised.

Squall rolled his eyes. "That's what I'm afraid of."


The bar was about half full, and Irvine was careful to keep a hold of Squall's hand, even though it was earning him some fierce scowls. It just wasn't safe to let go until they were sitting down comfortably in a quiet corner with a drink. Preferably several drinks. He was well aware that Squall could run at any second, and Irvine wasn't sure he could take the disappointment if that were to happen.

Squall followed him to the table meekly enough, only pulling his hand away to shrug out of his jacket and toss it across the booth's seat. He sat down across from Irvine, and quirked one brow in question. "We couldn't have done that like normal people?" he drawled.

Irvine managed a hurt expression. "What d'you mean, normal?"

Squall rolled his eyes. "I'm here, you idiot." Smiled fondly, then, and grabbed Irvine's hand where it lay on the table between them. "I'm not going to run away. Now, come on, order us a drink, yeah?"

Irvine smiled with relief and squeezed Squall's hand. He looked around and quickly located a waitress; turned on the charm and she headed over to their table straight away.

"What would you like?" he asked Squall.

"That fizzy drink I like." He sighed, momentarily defeated. "Can't remember the name of it."

Irvine tilted his head and gave Squall a shrewd look. "Beer?"

"No." He scowled. "Smartass."

"Alright then. Let's try something new." He turned his dazzling smile on the waitress. "Two walk-me-down's, please. And some peanuts."

"Can we get real food at some point?" Squall asked as the waitress turned toward the bar. "I don't think I ate today."

Irvine gave him a disapproving frown. "Sure. You shouldn't skip meals. It makes you cranky."

"I forget sometimes. You'll have to feed me."

"What d'you want? We could go to that place in the main plaza where we went for Quisty's birthday if you'd like."

Squall shrugged. "Whatever."

"Okay. I'll see what they serve at the bar. I'm guessing a fancy restaurant where you'll get recognised and lusted after by flocks of girls is out of the question?"

Squall smiled, a little sardonically. "You do know me."

"I try," said Irvine, and laced his fingers through Squall's, a smug little smile appearing on his face when Squall didn't protest. The drinks arrived.

"It's blue," Squall said doubtfully, prodding the glass with one finger.

"So it is," said Irvine, picking up his glass and offering it for clinking. "Matches your eyes."

Squall nearly choked on his first sip, brought a hand up to cover the laugh. "Yeah, okay," he snickered.

"When you think about it, most alcohol is the colour of piss. Blue has to be better than that."

"You may have a point," Squall said, grinning openly now.

"So, drink up." Irvine caught the waitress's eye. "Same again, Sugar," he said with a wink. "And this time don't forget the peanuts."

"And nachos," Squall added quickly, before she turned away. "Just until we can get real food," he said pointedly.

"Oh, yes, Nachos. And, um, a menu?"

The waitress nodded and smiled. "Anything else?"

"Not right now, Sugar," Irvine grinned. A full-on, Kinneas Grade 1 flirting grin. "Maybe later."

Squall smiled at Irvine almost fondly, taking another sip of his drink and watching Irvine watch the waitress walk away. After another moment, Squall kicked him in the left shin.

"Ow! What was that for?" Irvine rubbed his leg.

"You were drooling," he smirked.

"You're safe," said Irvine. "You have a cuter ass."

Squall laughed. "You only love me for my ass?"

"It's one of your finest features." Irvine leaned back in his seat, his booted foot stroking Squall's under the table. He was enjoying himself. "But that's not to do down the rest of the package. Especially," and Irvine paused to lick an imaginary drop of drink from his finger, "your dick."

Squall shivered at the touch, and his smile became a little more relaxed, almost seductive if he only knew it. "Have to say I've a lingering fondness for your dick, as well," he said flirtily. There may have also been straw-licking in a provocative manner.

Irvine could hardly believe his luck. The grin on his face was so broad as to look distinctly foolish. He pulled himself together and turned the charm full on, watching Squall with smouldering eyes as he took the straw between red, flushed lips and sucked.

"And what do you want to do with my dick," Irvine asked. "Exactly?"

Squall blinked, and looked down. Blood rose in his cheeks, and Irvine worried for a moment that he'd pressed too hard. But Squall looked up from beneath his lashes, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Lick it," he said distinctly, demonstrating on his straw.

There was a sudden roaring in Irvine's ears and he couldn't focus on anything, believe in anything except the motion of Squall's tiny pink tongue as it caressed the plastic straw. It went straight to his dick, making him painfully hard, and he got the distinct, incredible impression that he'd just been beaten at his own game.

"Here you go, boys." The waitress plunked a bowl of nachos between them, and Squall startled back into his seat, the moment broken.

But Irvine wasn't going to let it go completely. He leaned back and watched as Squall recovered sufficient of his composure to start eating, making his way steadily through the nachos until the salt cut through his hunger to assert his thirst. Squall picked up his drink, lips flirting with the straw for a moment and then he sucked. And drank. Irvine watched, voice stolen by the pure sex that was Squall drinking a cocktail, realizing too late that his lover had pretty much drained the glass in one go.

Squall emerged from his glass, blinked at Irvine sleepily as a smile stretched his pink lips. "You're staring, Irvine." He didn't sound drunk, exactly, but closer to giggling than sober.

"Of course," said Irvine. "What else am I supposed to do? Unless..." He leaned forwards, toying with the straw in Squall's now-abandoned glass. "You'll let me strip you naked and fuck you on the table?"

Squall sputtered a denial, but for a moment his pupils dilated to hungry depths and Irvine thought that maybe the fantasy wasn't too out of question. Squall blushing now, as he was still innocent enough to do, hiding behind his empty glass on the thin pretext of rescuing the dark blue dregs.

"Or..." Irvine held Squall's gaze. "You could get under the table.

Squall wrinkled his nose. "Kinneas, be serious."

Irvine allowed himself the slightest of smiles. "I'm perfectly serious, Sugar."

Squall glanced around nervously, as though afraid someone had heard their exchange. "Well it's not going to happen," he hissed. Paused, looked down at his freshened drink. "Not for a few drinks more, anyway." And up again with a wicked glint from beneath his lashes.

Irvine's smile broadened. "I'm ready when you are, Darlin'. Drink up."

Squall's smile faltered, as if his last bluff had been called, and he took another sip a little desperately.

A hand fell on his, and soothed across his knuckles. "Maybe some food first," Irvine offered. "Finish that and we’ll order something.”

"Thanks," Squall said, voice a little hoarse, eyes a little shy and grateful.

Irvine took Squall's hand and dropped a kiss to each knuckle before turning it over and drawing the palm to his own jaw. "When you're ready," he said.

"Ready for sex in public?" Squall said, wagging his brows. "Not any time soon, I'm thinking."

"We'll see," said Irvine, and paused to idly lick and kiss at Squall's fingertip.

He watched Squall's eyes glaze over, almost crossing.

"You're not going to convince me," Squall said, very slowly and not looking at Irvine at all.

"Not trying to talk you into anything you don't want to do," Irvine said, suddenly very serious as he caught Squall's eyes. "We're here to have fun, babe. Promise."

"I need food," Squall said. "Food would be fun."

Irvine would have laughed, but Squall's face was so serious and his voice so insistent that he knew it wouldn't be wise. He caught the waitress's eye instead, and raised a brow.

She looked immediately apologetic and rushed over to their table. "I'm sorry, Sir. We're so busy tonight I completely forgot." She produced two menus from her apron pocket.

"No problem," Irvine said expansively, watching Squall's overly-serious perusal of the menu with an indulgent smile.

"Pasta," said Squall. "Salad. And, um, ice cream."

Irvine raised an eyebrow. Squall wasn't usually one to bother too much about desert.

"I can have ice cream," said Squall, defensively.

"Oh, absolutely," said Irvine. He smiled at the waitress. "Same for me. And another round of drinks, please."

"Want to dance?" Squall said suddenly, and looking at him Irvine was quite certain something had come loose inside and was floating in the vicinity of his throat. He rumbled a little, then smiled, very cat who got the canary, and said, "Absolutely."

They both stood up, Squall smiling until he was on his feet then looking surprised and a little dismayed. He swayed a little; if Irvine hadn’t flung out a hand for him to cling to he might have fallen. As it was he got his feet in a dreadful tangle trying to escape from the clutches of the booth.

"Um," Irvine said, "maybe we should leave the dancing for a bit, Sugar. Food'll be here soon, after all."

"Maybe so," Squall said, laughing breathlessly.

Irvine found himself grinning stupidly. This was just too much fun. "While we're waiting, how about a game?" he said. "Truth or dare?"

"Okay," Squall said easily. "Truth."

"Hmmm." Irvine leaned back in his chair again and considered. "Okay. Who gave you your first blow job?"

Squall rolled his eyes, actually looking his age for once. "You did." The 'you idiot' remained unspoken. "Now you, truth or dare?"

"It could have been one of those idiot girls you slept with before I came along," said Irvine. "But I'm glad it wasn't. Okay, Sugar. I'll go for truth."

Squall blinked, appearing briefly stymied. "Um, same question. Who gave you your first blow job."

"A guy called Gin, when I was fourteen, in the showers after training. And ha! because I bet you thought it would be a girl." Irvine gave Squall a smug grin, but Squall didn't seem to notice. "Your turn. Truth or dare?"

Squall thought for a moment. "A guy, huh?" And for a moment more. "Do you still see him?"

"Nah, I think he maybe went into the Galbadian Army. Why?" Irvine smirked. "Jealous?"

"No," Squall lied badly, tilting his head down toward the table to hide his eyes.

Irvine let it go at that with a little chuckle. "Okay. Truth or dare?"

"Truth, I suppose," Squall said.

"Hmm. Okay. Who would you most like to fuck, who you haven't already?"

Squall blinked, eyes suddenly very wide. "Um," he stalled, chewing on his lower lip a little. "I can't really think of anybody."

Irvine stared at him, a little nonplussed. "What, not anybody?" And then a smirk. "Am I that good, Leonhart?"

Squall wrinkled his nose. "No," he said firmly. "Quistis, I'd want to sleep with Quistis."

"Oh, really? Good choice, man, good choice. You should go for it, she's always had the biggest crush on you, you know. And she has some really cool uses for that whip." Irvine winked.

Squall blushed scarlet, and ducked entirely behind his drink - or, as much as a grown man can fit behind a margarita glass. "That's not why," he mumbled.

"Why, then?" asked Irvine, insatiably curious.

"She's pretty," Squall mumbled, "and she's always been nice to me." He shrugged. "I don't think I'd want to sleep with someone who could, who enjoyed ..." And he trailed off with another blush, unable to meet Irvine's gaze.

Irvine swallowed hard, suddenly humbled and wanting more than anything to take Squall in his arms and hold him. Knowing that Squall would detest such a public display, he grabbed his hand instead, and squeezed. "'Course not," he muttered. "Your turn, Sugar. Truth."

Squall smiled at him, a little shyly but beginning to relax. "Okay, truth," he mused. "Mm, have you ever had sex in a public place?" Relaxed enough to be wicked, tongue toying with the straw in a provocative manner.

"You mean apart from a car in the middle of the desert? Well, okay, I guess deserts aren't very public. Um... a train. Oh boy, yes, a train."

Squall scowled a little. "Yes, other than the car. And who with?" The last on a suspicious note.

"Quisty and Selphie." Irvine gazed steadily at Squall, no room for escape. "On the way back from Galbadia that first time."

Squall choked. "Quisty and? But, so she ..." And blushed furiously.

"They seduced me, man. What can I say?"

Squall glared at him, eyes a little unfocused from the drink: the overall effect was closer to adorable than terrifying. "I don't believe you."

"Hey, I was trying to be good!" Irvine protested. "In fact, my commander had just ordered me to be good, if I remember, and I always follow orders." He paused for a smirk. "But you know how Seffie is, she was kind of insistent. And then after she had her wicked way with me," Irvine leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially "very wicked, in fact... Quistis found us. Seffie's always been good at sharing." A note of pride in his voice.

Squall found himself nodding in agreement. "She is, I guess ..." He paused, as though suddenly remembering something. "Wait a minute, wicked how?"

"Well, you know how Seffie likes to look out of the window while the train's speeding along?" Irvine waggled his eyebrows.

"Yeah?" Squall asked, eyes wide.

"Yeah," said Irvine. "Twice."

Squall choked and fell out of his chair, sort of. A panicked look under the table and Irvine saw he was laughing. Hard. A bit insultingly.

"Hey," he drawled. "You alright under there?"

Squall glared at him and pulled himself back onto his chair. "Fucking nacho," he muttered, keeping his eyes on the table, brow furrowed.

"Truth or dare?" said Irvine.

Squall glanced up a bit slyly, eyes still laughing. "Dare."

A smirk that could only be described as wicked spread across Irvine's face, and his eyes smouldered with evil intent.

"You shouldn't've said that, Squally-boy," he drawled.

Squall looked nervous for a moment, then seemed to firm his resolve. "Anything you can dish out, Kinneas," he growled.

Irvine's eyes darted swiftly around the room; he licked his lips.

"Under the table, Leonhart," he said. "You know what to do."

Squall was just tipsy enough to rise, or rather, sink to the challenge. Down on his knees on the sticky floor, hoping vaguely that he was hidden from the other people in the bar but not really worried about it and unbuttoning Irvine's jeans when the waitress returned with their salads.

"Where's your friend?" he heard her asking Irvine, and he stilled beneath the table, fingers resting on Irvine's cock, hard through the denim.

"Ungh... bathroom," Irvine said. "Just leave those here, thanks darlin', I'm sure he'll be done, uh, soon."

"Alright, then, sweetie," Squall heard her mutter, and he relaxed a little as she walked away, heels clicking on the scarred hardwood floor. Squall shifted on his knees a bit, mouthed at Irvine's cock through the heavy fabric before tackling the zipper with fingers that felt clumsy with drink and with lust.

"Soon, eh, Kinneas?" he muttered, dimly aware that his mind wasn't quite as clear as usual but resolutely refusing to believe it might be anything to do with alcohol. Irvine turned him on, that's all. Yeah.

He had Irvine's cock in his hand now; he heard Irvine gasp, noted his thighs trembling. Squall soothed the quivering muscles with one hand, and darted his tongue out to lick Irvine's dick like an ice cream.

And Irvine shivered beneath his tongue, beneath his petting hands, and Squall grinned to himself, secretively, maybe even a little smug and he rubbed his cheek against the leaking shaft like a cat. Irvine's hips bucked up a little in response. Squall licked again, kissed the tip, and then, when Irvine was shaking, actually shaking, Squall slid his lips over the head of Irvine's cock, working the foreskin back and swallowing him whole.

Irvine's leg kicked out in an involuntary arc, and he would've worried about hurting Squall except no part of his brain was working just now. His cock hit the back of Squall's throat, and past it, Squall swallowing around him like a pro, like a whore, like Irvine hadn't just taught him that move three months ago.

Squall curled his hands around the backs of Irvine's knees to hold him steady, and began to fuck him with his mouth.

"Hey, man," Irvine stammered. "I'm gonna..."

"Yes, sir?"

That was the waitress. Squall stopped moving completely, frozen in place. Irvine was still beneath him, pulse fluttering madly against Squall's tongue, and Squall, needing to swallow, pulled back a bare inch, carefully, the waitress so close she had to notice.

Irvine coughed, and suddenly Squall's face was wet, sticky wet, and Irvine's fingers were clenching on his thigh.

The waitress was saying something Squall couldn't catch through the roaring in his ears, and Irvine was coming all over his face.

Squall snorted, jerked back and narrowly missed bashing his head on the underside of the table. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, one hand over his mouth because any second now he was going to start laughing and not be able to stop.

Irvine was asking the waitress for water in a strangled sort of voice; Squall waited, not breathing, for her to leave. Not a moment too soon, her heels clicked away and Squall allowed himself to slump back amid a peal of helpless giggles.

"Shit," came Irvine's voice from above the table. "I can't believe... hey, man, where are you." His face appeared, peeking over the edge of the table, ponytail swinging upside down. "Oops. You got messy."

A napkin appeared.

Squall took the napkin and pressed it to his mouth, still giggling a little hysterically, still short of breath. His cock was a heavy weight against the zipper of his leather jeans, and come was drying in his hair.

"Um, darlin?" Irvine drawled after a minute of Squall snickering at his dangling ponytail. "You coming up here anytime soon?"

"I can't," gasped Squall, scrubbing at his face with a napkin. "I'm covered in goo and my feet have gone to sleep."

"Well, you'll have to come out eventually." Irvine's grin was undeniably smug. "The waitress will be back in a minute. And I thought you were hungry?"

As if in answer his stomach growled. "Yeah, still hungry," he said, returning Irvine's grin brightly. "You wanna switch places?"

"Get up here," said Irvine, a laugh in his voice. He hauled Squall out from under the table, and somehow Squall found himself sitting in Irvine's lap, arms draped around his neck, and Irvine was kissing him.

This wasn't quite where Squall had meant to end up, but Irvine's tongue was in his mouth and he was hard against Irvine's thigh and he was just drunk enough that he really didn't feel like he should hide. He wriggled a little against Irvine, not quite content to stay still.

"You give great head," said Irvine. "Anyone ever tell you that?"

His hand snaked between Squall's legs and very gently squeezed.

"Only you," Squall breathed, pulling his lower lip between his teeth, eyes half-closed at the feeling of Irvine's hand. "You, um, you give great head, too."

"That's not all I give." Irvine pressed a little harder, palming the subtle curve of Squall's cock through his leather pants. "You want this here? Now? Like this?" His tongue fluttered briefly between Squall's lips.

"Anywhere, anything," Squall panted, fingers clutching at Irvine's shoulders.

"Hyne and fuck, you're so damn hot." Irvine glanced around the room, turning Squall a little to shield them from public view. Keeping watch as he swiftly lowered Squall's zip and slipped his hand inside.

Squall arched into the touch, moaning a little, and traced one finger over Irvine's lips. "I want your mouth," he whispered, feeling a little wild and like he'd just shrugged off a heavy load, like he'd been suffocating and only now could breathe. "Please."

Irvine glanced around again, then twisted around so fast that Squall landed on the seat with a little bump. Irvine's heart raced; he'd have to be quick. He didn't entirely trust Squall to be attentive enough to keep watch. Not after the blue magic.

He pulled Squall's cock out and took it in his mouth. One quick swirl around the head and he started to suck.

Squall's head fell back against the seatback, his eyes slipped closed and he bit his lip to stop himself moaning because somewhere in his head he knew the waitress might come back. The seat leather was sticky beneath his neck, he was hot and sweat prickled beneath his t-shirt and beneath his leathers, and Irvine's mouth was even hotter on his cock, just on the head and one warm hand around the base between him and his zipper, and Squall arched up just a little, trying his best to look like he was sitting innocently waiting for Irvine to return from the restroom maybe, and he pried one hand loose from the table's edge to take a sip of Irvine's drink.

Irvine sucked hard, a little desperately, maybe, his hand making quick, economical movements. Somewhere through the haze that must have been to do with lust, Squall recognised this as Irvine in business mode. Trying to make him come.

It occurred to Squall that Irvine was maybe more concerned that they'd get caught than he was, and the thought brought an unusually wicked smile to his face.

He rolled his head against sticky leather and moaned, just a little, just enough that Irvine's hand tightened in a panic and his tongue stuttered in its rhythm, and Squall bucked against his hold flying on the high of need and sex and for once not caring. "Irvine," he whispered, feeling it build in him with surprising force, his back arching, hands bracing himself against the edge of the table and the back of the chair and he turned his head to rest his cheek against his arm, rubbing against his bicep a little and thrusting up into Irvine's mouth with tiny movements that must seem highly suggestive even from across the room.

Irvine's hands clamped down on his thighs, trying to still him, and he sucked hard, lips clamping around the shaft of Squall's cock.

Squall choked on a breath, dropped Irvine's glass in a foam of blue liquor and came.

Irvine made a kind of choking noise under the table, even as he held Squall still and swallowed. It was that as much the incredible pleasure and relief of coming that brought Squall back to his senses.

There was sticky blue liquid oozing over his thighs. The lights seemed suddenly bright and the room...

The room was full of people.

Somewhere through the fading pulse of lust, Squall began to panic.

It was subtle, and Irvine barely noticed the signs, tucking Squall gently back into his leather jeans and pulling the zip with utmost care as Squall wasn't really moving on his own, just a few small jerks like he wanted to run but had remembered his state of undress, open fly and disarranged shirt. Irvine petted the soft skin of Squall's stomach, trying to calm him without words, without making Squall worry that someone might hear, staying on his knees a moment longer trying to keep Squall from running out of the bar the moment he was free.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw approaching feet; the waitress. He turned around, one hand still on Squall's belly, edging backwards out from under the table. He grinned over his shoulder at the waitress and banged his head on the Formica on the way up.

"Contact lens," he said, finally regaining his seat... or, rather, Squall's seat, they seemed to have swapped somehow.

The waitress raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you need any help with that?"

"No, no," he said quickly as Squall looked ready to hyperventilate. "Found it just fine, darlin'. Those our drinks?"

"Sure are, and your food will be out in just another minute," she said easily enough, looking maybe a little off as she headed back to the kitchen. Squall followed her progress with truly paranoid focus.

"She didn't realize what we were doing," Irvine began carefully, still feeling relaxed and buzzed and a little too sleepy for real concern.

Squall pushed his drink away with a look of disgust, and it was only when he got to his feet that Irvine's brain kicked in. He grabbed Squall's arm, locking his fingers around the thin, bony wrist hard like a manacle. He looked straight into Squall's eyes, hoping he could get away with giving orders for once. "Sit down. Finish your drink."

Squall wavered, looking toward the front door like looking at salvation, but Irvine tugged on his wrist a little, gently, and Squall sat back down. He glanced up at Irvine from beneath his bangs. "You really think she didn't know?"

"Absolutely certain. You're still hungry, right? So eat. I did promise you dinner, after all."

Squall looked down, blinked a little like at least he was thinking about it. He picked up his fork, poked listlessly at a lettuce leaf. "This isn't the dressing I asked for," he said quietly, glancing up at Irvine a little shy now for what they'd done.

Irvine looked down at his own plate, then across to Squall and back again. "We swapped places," he said with a grin that looked almost sheepish, and slid his salad across to Squall.

"I guess we did," Squall murmured, and smiled, feeling himself relax a little.

"Hey," said Irvine, conversationally, "I was thinking, you know it's Quisty's birthday soon. We ought to get her a present. Any ideas?"

"Irvine," Squall said, whining a little. "You know I'm awful at that sort of thing."

Irvine speared a cherry tomato with his fork and waved it accusingly at Squall. "An hour ago you told me you didn't do sex in public." He put on his most serious expression, which was actually rather hopeless, his eyes twinkling at Squall as he spoke. "People change, Squall. People change."

Squall glanced down quickly, a smile pulling at his lips. "They do," he said, looking up at Irvine. "I guess they really do."


Date: 2006-09-21 10:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
*squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee* *___*


Date: 2006-09-21 11:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
...because the waitress always comes when your mouth is full, right?
*giggles wildly*
Wonderful! Thank you for the lovely cocktails/cock tales.

Date: 2006-09-22 12:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
*chokes* XD

Date: 2006-09-22 01:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
fantastic! i was just wondering if i'd ever get anymore squall/irvine fiction to read, and you delivered. thanks!

Date: 2006-09-22 03:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
awesome T.T

"Irvine coughed, and suddenly Squall's face was wet, sticky wet, and Irvine's fingers were clenching on his thigh.

The waitress was saying something Squall couldn't catch through the roaring in his ears, and Irvine was coming all over his face.
" <-- my favorite part.

Date: 2006-09-22 06:43 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oooh, so awesome! It's been awhile since we've seen anything from these two, it's nice to see how they're doing. Lovely stuff, as always! Public sex is always sexy and daring, and Irvine pulls it off so well, even getting Squall to calm down!

Very nicely done!

Date: 2006-09-22 08:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
ghibble! ^_^
What a nice thing to wake up to in the morning!

Date: 2006-09-22 12:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Ah, morning smut. Very nice to see these two boys back in action. And Squall with public sex. That was too good. I loved the reactions.

Date: 2006-09-29 04:32 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
The picture is of one of my rats named Shen. He was camera shy, hated men, loved women and was an accomplished shirt diver. One of the people on my flist made it for me.

Date: 2006-09-23 12:32 am (UTC)
lassarina: I'm not coming out until the stupid people have gone away.  ....I can wait all day. (Default)
From: [personal profile] lassarina
There may have also been straw-licking in a provocative manner. This, and other similar lines, just killed me. Wow. Yay!

Date: 2006-09-23 01:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
He put on his most serious expression, which was actually rather hopeless, his eyes twinkling at Squall as he spoke.
Teehee. Oh, Irvine.

Date: 2006-09-23 05:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
*wibbly eyes*
Just when I was thinking there would never be more Irvine for me, and really /really/ wanting something sweet and cute and /hot/... then you posted this. It was the best present for a day off that I've had in a long while.
Thank you. ^__^

Date: 2006-10-03 10:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Loved it! Very funny and smokin' hot. I've been looking for IrvinexSquall fics and couldn't find any. Thanks for writing this! ^-^

Date: 2007-02-22 10:58 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
So so so so HOTTTT XD *cross eyed*
Page generated Sep. 20th, 2017 05:27 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios