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FFVIII: Never Can Be (3)
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Laguna/Squall
Warnings: Incest, angst
Chapter: Three, final
Rating: G
Summary: Squall can never see Laguna as his father. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fated_children.
Tap-tap-tap. Laguna pauses in his typing to adjust his new glasses, which seem to cause more headaches than they're curing. Tap-tap-tap, pause for another rest. His coffee, he finds, is cold. He sighs at that and wonders if any kindly passerby will go and get him more coffee.
There's a brief knock at the door and then Squall looks in. "Are you busy?"
"Ah, not too busy, if you're quick," Laguna says, smiling brightly at him. For a moment, Squall returns the smile awkwardly, and then, stepping in, lets it drop.
"I wanted to apologise. For being rude, in the car." He takes a deep breath, and before Laguna can say anything accepting, or more likely, put his foot in his mouth, he stumbles on. "I just can't think of you as my father. I... you've never been a father to me. I don't like to think of the past like that."
There's a long pause. Laguna fiddles with a pen, not quite looking up: sure Squall could read every emotion in the lines of his face, if he did.
"Do you think you could ever see me as... a friend, instead?"
Squall takes a few steps towards the desk and Laguna looks up -- finds himself looking right into his eyes. They hold that for a moment, and if Squall is trying to communicate something with just the power of his eyes, Laguna isn't getting it. He's noticing, all over again, that Squall's serious, intense expression makes his stomach tighten oddly, and that he wants to reach up and push Squall's hair out of his face.
"Or more," Squall whispers, biting his lip. He takes a deep breath, and before Laguna can say anything, straightens and turns to go. "But that's not going to happen. It can't happen."
"No," Laguna agrees, numbly.
Squall leaves quickly. Laguna sits and thinks about everything he shouldn't be thinking about, and wonders what level of hell you go to for being so hopelessly in love with your own son, even if you only notice it at the last minute.
Pairing: Laguna/Squall
Warnings: Incest, angst
Chapter: Three, final
Rating: G
Summary: Squall can never see Laguna as his father. For
fated_children.Tap-tap-tap. Laguna pauses in his typing to adjust his new glasses, which seem to cause more headaches than they're curing. Tap-tap-tap, pause for another rest. His coffee, he finds, is cold. He sighs at that and wonders if any kindly passerby will go and get him more coffee.
There's a brief knock at the door and then Squall looks in. "Are you busy?"
"Ah, not too busy, if you're quick," Laguna says, smiling brightly at him. For a moment, Squall returns the smile awkwardly, and then, stepping in, lets it drop.
"I wanted to apologise. For being rude, in the car." He takes a deep breath, and before Laguna can say anything accepting, or more likely, put his foot in his mouth, he stumbles on. "I just can't think of you as my father. I... you've never been a father to me. I don't like to think of the past like that."
There's a long pause. Laguna fiddles with a pen, not quite looking up: sure Squall could read every emotion in the lines of his face, if he did.
"Do you think you could ever see me as... a friend, instead?"
Squall takes a few steps towards the desk and Laguna looks up -- finds himself looking right into his eyes. They hold that for a moment, and if Squall is trying to communicate something with just the power of his eyes, Laguna isn't getting it. He's noticing, all over again, that Squall's serious, intense expression makes his stomach tighten oddly, and that he wants to reach up and push Squall's hair out of his face.
"Or more," Squall whispers, biting his lip. He takes a deep breath, and before Laguna can say anything, straightens and turns to go. "But that's not going to happen. It can't happen."
"No," Laguna agrees, numbly.
Squall leaves quickly. Laguna sits and thinks about everything he shouldn't be thinking about, and wonders what level of hell you go to for being so hopelessly in love with your own son, even if you only notice it at the last minute.