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Entry tags:
FFVIII: Time Off
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Irvine/Squall
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Squall grants a rare holiday for Garden. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
100_chances.
"Did you ever even play out in it?"
"In what?"
Irvine laughs softly, making Squall scowl and duck his head lower, his hair all tumbling into his eyes. Irritated, he pushes it back, his annoyance just showing in the way he grips his pen -- tightly, making his knuckles just a little whiter. Irvine watches him for a minute, and then without clarifying what he was talking about before, moves closer to the desk, leaning against it. "You need a break."
"Did I ever play out in what?"
"The snow, Squall." Irvine rolls his eyes and gestures out of the window at the scene which most people noticed when they woke up -- but Irvine is fairly sure that Squall left so early either it hadn't snowed by then, or it was too dark to see it if it had, or a mixture of both. "Did you ever play in the snow? Snowball fights? Snowmen?"
"No."
Irvine grins as he pictures Squall all bundled up warm. His skin would look even paler with the cold, he imagines, almost translucent, even. Before he even thinks about it he's reaching across to trace Squall's jaw, his fingertips moving up to brush over his cheek. His lover doesn't protest -- for once. "You missed out, Squall. Even SeeD candidates can have fun in the snow. My old instructor used to make it into a military exercise: pick a defensible position, build an ice fort for safety, make ammunition..."
"I didn't think it snowed that much in Galbadia."
Irvine's smile is wistful. "No, not really."
Abruptly, Squall shifts his attention back to his work, though his grip on the pen has, at least, relaxed. He huffs softly, stirring his hair from where it hangs again, right in front of his eyes. Irvine resists the urge to brush it back and turns to go.
Squall smiles just the tiniest bit: glad that Irvine knows him this well, but not done.
"We can, you know."
Irvine turns, raising an eyebrow. "We can what?"
"Play. In the snow." Squall pauses for a moment, biting his lip, and then shrugging in a peculiarly graceful movement. "Make it a day out for Quistis' class or something. All junior classmen. Just... just organise it, Irvine. And drag me out of my office for it."
"You can count on that, darlin'," he says with a grin, tipping his hat a little. He hesitates, and then doesn't ask if Squall means it -- knowing he wouldn't say it if he didn't mean it. "You need the day out."
"I know. Now go."
Squall turns resolutely to his work -- not without a glance at the window, out into the snow, a curiously longing, thoughtful look. Irvine hurries away.
Pairing: Irvine/Squall
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Squall grants a rare holiday for Garden. For
100_chances."Did you ever even play out in it?"
"In what?"
Irvine laughs softly, making Squall scowl and duck his head lower, his hair all tumbling into his eyes. Irritated, he pushes it back, his annoyance just showing in the way he grips his pen -- tightly, making his knuckles just a little whiter. Irvine watches him for a minute, and then without clarifying what he was talking about before, moves closer to the desk, leaning against it. "You need a break."
"Did I ever play out in what?"
"The snow, Squall." Irvine rolls his eyes and gestures out of the window at the scene which most people noticed when they woke up -- but Irvine is fairly sure that Squall left so early either it hadn't snowed by then, or it was too dark to see it if it had, or a mixture of both. "Did you ever play in the snow? Snowball fights? Snowmen?"
"No."
Irvine grins as he pictures Squall all bundled up warm. His skin would look even paler with the cold, he imagines, almost translucent, even. Before he even thinks about it he's reaching across to trace Squall's jaw, his fingertips moving up to brush over his cheek. His lover doesn't protest -- for once. "You missed out, Squall. Even SeeD candidates can have fun in the snow. My old instructor used to make it into a military exercise: pick a defensible position, build an ice fort for safety, make ammunition..."
"I didn't think it snowed that much in Galbadia."
Irvine's smile is wistful. "No, not really."
Abruptly, Squall shifts his attention back to his work, though his grip on the pen has, at least, relaxed. He huffs softly, stirring his hair from where it hangs again, right in front of his eyes. Irvine resists the urge to brush it back and turns to go.
Squall smiles just the tiniest bit: glad that Irvine knows him this well, but not done.
"We can, you know."
Irvine turns, raising an eyebrow. "We can what?"
"Play. In the snow." Squall pauses for a moment, biting his lip, and then shrugging in a peculiarly graceful movement. "Make it a day out for Quistis' class or something. All junior classmen. Just... just organise it, Irvine. And drag me out of my office for it."
"You can count on that, darlin'," he says with a grin, tipping his hat a little. He hesitates, and then doesn't ask if Squall means it -- knowing he wouldn't say it if he didn't mean it. "You need the day out."
"I know. Now go."
Squall turns resolutely to his work -- not without a glance at the window, out into the snow, a curiously longing, thoughtful look. Irvine hurries away.
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