![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
FFVIII: Three Points
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Irvine/Squall
Warnings: Sap
Rating: PG
Summary: Squall should get out of bed and on with his day, but... For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
100_chances.
Squall has come to the conclusion that one, he is comfortable there with his arm slung around Irvine's waist and their bodies mostly touching, but not so much that it's uncomfortable for him considering that most human contact is too much for him. Two, he shouldn't be comfortable, because of the aforesaid touching, and closeness, and the sex which went on the night before without either of them being under the influence of anything but the other's wonderfully good looks. And, three, he has a lot of things to do today, including several very important things that have filled up his schedule to overflowing, but owing to the first and partly the second point, he doesn't really want to move.
It isn't, entirely, a dilemma, because Squall knows very well what he should do. He should slip out of bed, leaving Irvine still asleep, and hurry off to his office, apologising for being late for once in his life and grabbing coffee from the overly talkative and perpetually smiling but capable secretary on his way in. Then he should ignore Irvine most of the day and then, when they, Selphie, Quistis, Zell and Rinoa all gathered for dinner, he should treat him coolly and as much as possible, avoid his eyes.
Squall, for once, doesn't want to do that.
There's something somewhat special about Irvine, after all. Only that he managed to get under Squall's skin, not to mention into his pants and further, into his bed. But it's still a significantly special thing considering that nobody who knows him personally generally gets into his pants. It's one of his little rules in life -- to avoid complications, or so he says.
Somehow, without the use of drugs, alcohol, or incessant fighting, Irvine got into his pants, his bed, and, possibly, if Squall cared to examine it, his heart.
So Squall closes his eyes again, thinks hard about simply incinerating the contents of his inbox, and simply snuggles closer to Irvine, so more of their bodies are touching. It still doesn't make him uncomfortable -- only inclined to be sleepy -- and, as an afterthought, he reaches over and lifted the phone beside his bed off the hook.
His secretary is a good girl. Cheerful. She'll handle all of it with a smile and some good excuses.
Before he goes to sleep, Squall reminds himself firmly to give her a pay rise.
Pairing: Irvine/Squall
Warnings: Sap
Rating: PG
Summary: Squall should get out of bed and on with his day, but... For
100_chances.Squall has come to the conclusion that one, he is comfortable there with his arm slung around Irvine's waist and their bodies mostly touching, but not so much that it's uncomfortable for him considering that most human contact is too much for him. Two, he shouldn't be comfortable, because of the aforesaid touching, and closeness, and the sex which went on the night before without either of them being under the influence of anything but the other's wonderfully good looks. And, three, he has a lot of things to do today, including several very important things that have filled up his schedule to overflowing, but owing to the first and partly the second point, he doesn't really want to move.
It isn't, entirely, a dilemma, because Squall knows very well what he should do. He should slip out of bed, leaving Irvine still asleep, and hurry off to his office, apologising for being late for once in his life and grabbing coffee from the overly talkative and perpetually smiling but capable secretary on his way in. Then he should ignore Irvine most of the day and then, when they, Selphie, Quistis, Zell and Rinoa all gathered for dinner, he should treat him coolly and as much as possible, avoid his eyes.
Squall, for once, doesn't want to do that.
There's something somewhat special about Irvine, after all. Only that he managed to get under Squall's skin, not to mention into his pants and further, into his bed. But it's still a significantly special thing considering that nobody who knows him personally generally gets into his pants. It's one of his little rules in life -- to avoid complications, or so he says.
Somehow, without the use of drugs, alcohol, or incessant fighting, Irvine got into his pants, his bed, and, possibly, if Squall cared to examine it, his heart.
So Squall closes his eyes again, thinks hard about simply incinerating the contents of his inbox, and simply snuggles closer to Irvine, so more of their bodies are touching. It still doesn't make him uncomfortable -- only inclined to be sleepy -- and, as an afterthought, he reaches over and lifted the phone beside his bed off the hook.
His secretary is a good girl. Cheerful. She'll handle all of it with a smile and some good excuses.
Before he goes to sleep, Squall reminds himself firmly to give her a pay rise.
no subject