Entry tags:
FFVIII: Rules Of The Game
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: It could mean so much. For
101_kisses.
Note: I am aware of the traditional meaning of "four of diamonds", but Seifer, being Seifer, is an awkward git and insisted on making up his own meaning system, which may or may not be explored in more fics sometime in the future.
"I bet I can make you kiss me."
Cards have been the latest thing in Garden lately -- not the Triple Triad cards, but old style playing cards. Hearts. Diamonds. Spades. Clubs. It figures that Seifer has some cards, though lately the faculties have been confiscating them in an attempt to stop the rampant gambling apparently going on. Squall has been largely oblivious to most of it, but lately it's been hard to ignore, and it figures that Seifer has cards now, now that they're cause for more detentions than the fights always breaking out in the cafeteria are.
"Whatever."
Seifer laughs. The classroom is empty, now -- Quistis is waiting at the door, ignoring their conversation and looking far away. Squall was packing his bag, lost in his thoughts, and Seifer still hasn't moved: he's still slumped in his chair with his feet on the desk, the cards in his hands and only just out of sight of Quistis.
"Want to make a bet with me?"
"No."
"You'd lose it anyway."
Seifer's smirk is infuriating, but Squall is used to that. He just shrugs, shouldering his bag and heading out of the classroom; ignoring Quistis' sympathetic smile. She likes to think she knows what is going on. Understands it. Empathises. But Squall is pretty sure he doesn't know what the hell is going on between him and Almasy, so how the hell does she know? He fights him in the day and dreams of him at night, never seems to be free of the annoying bastard.
"Yo, Squally-boy!"
Squall stops, turning just a little to look up at Seifer. Quistis passes them, her boots clicking on the ground, crisp, precise sounds. When that noise fades, Seifer puts a hand on his shoulder -- heavilly, so he feels both weight and warmth.
"What do you want?"
"I bet you wouldn't dare kiss me."
It's the familiar taunt. The familiar smirk, as well. But somehow, for once, there's something in Seifer's eyes that says he thinks he's pushed it too far, a wry knowledge of probable defeat. Squall's reaction to that is as confusing as all his reactions to Seifer are. On the one hand, he wants to defeat Seifer -- he always has. It would be a good thing to know, that he got one up on Seifer. But on the other hand, for one of them to win would be a breach of the rules. It would end the game, and while the tension between them is confusing as hell, it's almost -- pleasant. The known enemy. The good rival.
For Squall to ignore a dare would be against the rules, somehow.
So he moves closer, leans up, and kisses Seifer -- quickly, and then pulls away just as quickly. Seifer's smirk comes and goes in the same way, and then he catches Squall's arm, stopping him from moving away. Deliberately, he slips one hand into Squall's back pocket, pulls him closer, and kisses him again. Slowly. Thoroughly.
Then he pulls away -- slowly -- and walks away, leaving Squall more confused than ever.
He only feels the card in the back pocket of his pants as he unbuckles his belts to get ready for bed. It figures that Seifer would do that: like marking his territory. Four of diamonds. It could mean so much. It could mean nothing.
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: It could mean so much. For
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Note: I am aware of the traditional meaning of "four of diamonds", but Seifer, being Seifer, is an awkward git and insisted on making up his own meaning system, which may or may not be explored in more fics sometime in the future.
"I bet I can make you kiss me."
Cards have been the latest thing in Garden lately -- not the Triple Triad cards, but old style playing cards. Hearts. Diamonds. Spades. Clubs. It figures that Seifer has some cards, though lately the faculties have been confiscating them in an attempt to stop the rampant gambling apparently going on. Squall has been largely oblivious to most of it, but lately it's been hard to ignore, and it figures that Seifer has cards now, now that they're cause for more detentions than the fights always breaking out in the cafeteria are.
"Whatever."
Seifer laughs. The classroom is empty, now -- Quistis is waiting at the door, ignoring their conversation and looking far away. Squall was packing his bag, lost in his thoughts, and Seifer still hasn't moved: he's still slumped in his chair with his feet on the desk, the cards in his hands and only just out of sight of Quistis.
"Want to make a bet with me?"
"No."
"You'd lose it anyway."
Seifer's smirk is infuriating, but Squall is used to that. He just shrugs, shouldering his bag and heading out of the classroom; ignoring Quistis' sympathetic smile. She likes to think she knows what is going on. Understands it. Empathises. But Squall is pretty sure he doesn't know what the hell is going on between him and Almasy, so how the hell does she know? He fights him in the day and dreams of him at night, never seems to be free of the annoying bastard.
"Yo, Squally-boy!"
Squall stops, turning just a little to look up at Seifer. Quistis passes them, her boots clicking on the ground, crisp, precise sounds. When that noise fades, Seifer puts a hand on his shoulder -- heavilly, so he feels both weight and warmth.
"What do you want?"
"I bet you wouldn't dare kiss me."
It's the familiar taunt. The familiar smirk, as well. But somehow, for once, there's something in Seifer's eyes that says he thinks he's pushed it too far, a wry knowledge of probable defeat. Squall's reaction to that is as confusing as all his reactions to Seifer are. On the one hand, he wants to defeat Seifer -- he always has. It would be a good thing to know, that he got one up on Seifer. But on the other hand, for one of them to win would be a breach of the rules. It would end the game, and while the tension between them is confusing as hell, it's almost -- pleasant. The known enemy. The good rival.
For Squall to ignore a dare would be against the rules, somehow.
So he moves closer, leans up, and kisses Seifer -- quickly, and then pulls away just as quickly. Seifer's smirk comes and goes in the same way, and then he catches Squall's arm, stopping him from moving away. Deliberately, he slips one hand into Squall's back pocket, pulls him closer, and kisses him again. Slowly. Thoroughly.
Then he pulls away -- slowly -- and walks away, leaving Squall more confused than ever.
He only feels the card in the back pocket of his pants as he unbuckles his belts to get ready for bed. It figures that Seifer would do that: like marking his territory. Four of diamonds. It could mean so much. It could mean nothing.
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I loved every word of it.
Seifer's so... seifer.