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Entry tags:
FFVIII: Thursday, Far Too Late At Night
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Warnings: Sap
Rating: PG13
Summary: Thursday night was, quite frankly, horrible. Timeline here.
Travelling at some unidentiable point during Thursday night was not Squall's favourite occupation. He'd discovered this about two minutes into the train ride. His phone signal was shaky at best, he was exhausted from a day of negotiating and getting nowhere, he had a headache like he'd been hitting his head against a solid rather than metaphorical brick wall, and he missed Seifer badly. And he was hungry. And he wasn't going to get home for a good few hours.
And his entertainment had gotten down to waiting for a decent phone signal so he could call Seifer. Granted, he'd be disturbing Seifer's sleep, but by this juncture, he just wanted anyone to share his misery. Specifically, Seifer, because Seifer was supposed to share stuff with him and all that.
Seifer didn't sound too bothered at being woken up. Well, as soon as he realised it was Squall, anyway. "Oh. It's you. Hey babe. You know what time of night it is, right?"
"I'm not stupid."
"Just checking. I bet you're exhausted and grumpy."
"You know me too well."
"I know."
Squall leaned his head against the window, sighing softly and clutching the phone close, fighting back a yawn. "Had a good idea? What've you been doing?"
"Had a fight with chickenwuss -- no, not a big fight. Sparring. Friendly. Don't jump down my throat. I don't start fights anymore anyway. Not worth it. Are you alone?"
Squall's tone was an amused, warning growl. "We are not having phone sex, Almasy."
"What a pity. I was looking forward to listening to you try to hold back while I can moan down the phone at you without bothering to show any restraint. In fact, I could do that whether you -- "
"Don't you dare, or I'll hang up."
"And then I could finish jerking off and get some sleep. Sounds good to me," Seifer teased.
"Asshole," Squall whispered, settling himself more comfortably against the window. He closed his eyes for a minute, listening to Seifer talking about his day, about all the pointless little Garden things and the useful little snippets of gossip that it was his job as Commander to know and, without Seifer, wouldn't have time to find out.
"You should go to sleep, Squally-boy," Seifer said, finally, in a sort of gentle tone. Squall could imagine him, sprawled there on his pillows, and he decided that he wanted nothing more than to curl up there beside him.
"Maybe."
"Go on. Go to sleep. I'll stay on the phone till I hear you snoring."
"I don't snore. And that'll only give Garden a huge phonebill."
"Take it out of your wage."
"Forget it."
Seifer huffed softly and then returned to a more serious tone, and Squall heard him shifting around as he said it. "You should get some sleep."
"Okay."
"Love you," Seifer said, softly, just before hanging up.
"Love you too," Squall whispered back, even though the phone had gone dead.
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Warnings: Sap
Rating: PG13
Summary: Thursday night was, quite frankly, horrible. Timeline here.
Travelling at some unidentiable point during Thursday night was not Squall's favourite occupation. He'd discovered this about two minutes into the train ride. His phone signal was shaky at best, he was exhausted from a day of negotiating and getting nowhere, he had a headache like he'd been hitting his head against a solid rather than metaphorical brick wall, and he missed Seifer badly. And he was hungry. And he wasn't going to get home for a good few hours.
And his entertainment had gotten down to waiting for a decent phone signal so he could call Seifer. Granted, he'd be disturbing Seifer's sleep, but by this juncture, he just wanted anyone to share his misery. Specifically, Seifer, because Seifer was supposed to share stuff with him and all that.
Seifer didn't sound too bothered at being woken up. Well, as soon as he realised it was Squall, anyway. "Oh. It's you. Hey babe. You know what time of night it is, right?"
"I'm not stupid."
"Just checking. I bet you're exhausted and grumpy."
"You know me too well."
"I know."
Squall leaned his head against the window, sighing softly and clutching the phone close, fighting back a yawn. "Had a good idea? What've you been doing?"
"Had a fight with chickenwuss -- no, not a big fight. Sparring. Friendly. Don't jump down my throat. I don't start fights anymore anyway. Not worth it. Are you alone?"
Squall's tone was an amused, warning growl. "We are not having phone sex, Almasy."
"What a pity. I was looking forward to listening to you try to hold back while I can moan down the phone at you without bothering to show any restraint. In fact, I could do that whether you -- "
"Don't you dare, or I'll hang up."
"And then I could finish jerking off and get some sleep. Sounds good to me," Seifer teased.
"Asshole," Squall whispered, settling himself more comfortably against the window. He closed his eyes for a minute, listening to Seifer talking about his day, about all the pointless little Garden things and the useful little snippets of gossip that it was his job as Commander to know and, without Seifer, wouldn't have time to find out.
"You should go to sleep, Squally-boy," Seifer said, finally, in a sort of gentle tone. Squall could imagine him, sprawled there on his pillows, and he decided that he wanted nothing more than to curl up there beside him.
"Maybe."
"Go on. Go to sleep. I'll stay on the phone till I hear you snoring."
"I don't snore. And that'll only give Garden a huge phonebill."
"Take it out of your wage."
"Forget it."
Seifer huffed softly and then returned to a more serious tone, and Squall heard him shifting around as he said it. "You should get some sleep."
"Okay."
"Love you," Seifer said, softly, just before hanging up.
"Love you too," Squall whispered back, even though the phone had gone dead.
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