Satin Scorpion :: Shusu's Blog

4:40 PM
Part two of the once in a lifetime arc. This was written at the same time as part one, but I had to go over it for canon errors. From what I know of the game, this is most likely AU... but bear with me, okay?

Implied shota, implied incest, canon twisting, FF8 spoilers. You have been warned.

once in a lifetime :: just my luck

"Irvie! C'mon, wake up, you'll be late for inspection and they'll have your hide for breakfast!"
Irvine Kinneas rolled over and groaned. Selphie wasn't having it. "Get up, Mr. Sharpshooter! I don't care how much you had to drink last night, you have to get out of my bed so I can wash the sheets."
"Well geez, Sephie, you more concerned 'bout my hide, or your sheets?"
Selphie giggled and slapped his butt for good measure. She was already in uniform and out the door. "Up in five or none for you tonight!"
Irvine groaned again, but Selphie was gone. None tonight, then. He was that grouchy. Not after the night he'd had.
Last night... shit. Irvine rolled out of bed and picked his way through Selphie's whirlwind of a mess to the bathroom. He had to make inspection, and get out before the shuttles to the train station pulled out.
His head was about to bust open, but he forced himself to pick up the pace. He was in such a hurry that he nicked himself shaving. Irvine was no believer in creams to take hair off a man's face. You had to have a blade next to your skin for the proper smooth texture. The hazard was just another added extra, but this morning Irvine was not in the mood to appreciate it.
He cussed as he searched out his proper uniform, the one Selphie had steam-pressed the night before. Balamb Garden colors. Stupid bunch of GF-loving, pill-popping lunatics! He'd stayed because all his childhood friends were there, and because he and Selphie had a good arrangement going, but goddamnit sometimes they were more trouble than they were worth...
And naturally, naturally the first person in the cafeteria he bumped into was Squall Leonhart.
"You're going to be late, Irvine," his fellow SeeD said on his way out. Squall looked pretty damn cheerful for sharing Irvine's bourbon bottle last night. There were the tell-tale bags under his eyes, and his lip was raw, but otherwise he seemed to have fared better than the cowboy.
Irvine knew better. He scowled at Squall's back for a minute, and grabbed some toast.
"Hey, whatsa matter, Irv? Didn't get lucky with Squall?"
As it was his lucky day, there was Zell, chowing down on a disgusting chili and onion hotdog. "Zell. For breakfast?"
"I had real food last night, so I'm having my treat this morning. So, you're evading the question. You take a flamethrower to the Iceberg yet?"
Irvine's stomach rolled, disgusted by more things than just the hotdog. "I've got better things to do than Squall."
Zell raised his eyebrows. Oh, what a mistake, Kinneas! "What bug's up your butt? You two were getting real friendly last night. Oooohh, were you rejected? Did the big badass player actually lose?!"
No, the big badass moron got drunk under the table and fell asleep. And didn't wake up till the last act. "Would you shut your trap, Zell? No, of course you won't." Irvine tried another tack. "Squall's given you the cold shoulder too."
"Yeah, so? He's done that all my life. M'used to it, and so is he. But you...? Zell's eyes hardened. "It didn't get ugly, did it?"
Ugly. That's one way of putting it. Irvine mustered up whatever anger he could from his affable self. With his headache throbbing, it was surprisingly easy. "Nothing happened between us, all right? End of discussion. I'm due at inspection."
Irvine walked out with Zell's eyes burning his back. With his luck, the rumor would be all over the Garden by the time he got out of inspection. Irvine rubbed his face. Whatever the talk turned out to be, it would be better than the truth.

And of course Quistis had to chew him out for an extra ten minutes. The usual spiel about setting a good example, not being able to bluff his way out of the demerits, this the last time Kinneas, do you really want to go back to Galbadia?
Irvine would have answered yes if it hadn't been so late. He passed by his quarters to grab his lucky hat, trying to ignore the shakes in his fingers. Stupid thing, that, to be a sharpshooter and get shaky when nervous. In a way it was a blessing in disguise since he'd had to work harder for that emotional muscle control. He was probably the very best because of it. But they didn't have anything in the training manuals about this.
Irvine almost skidded past his target, who was sitting under a tree and staring at his personal organizer. It was out of the main boarding area's line of sight, so they'd have some privacy. "Laguna!"
"Yo?" The older man flipped the organizer closed. Irvine was stopped short by the darkening bruise just peeking through his undone collar. "What's up, Kinneas?"
Irvine planted a foot on the bench next to Laguna and leaned in. "I see your taste in younger men hasn't changed," he snarled.
Laguna actually looked relieved. "Then it was you. Thank goodness."
"What the hell, Laguna?" Irvine hissed. "I left him alone for twenty minutes and you were fucking?!"
"Being fucked," Laguna pointed out coolly.
Irvine nearly punched him. The man had always raised his hackles, and now, boy he wanted to rearrange Laguna's face, point blank or at five hundred yards, it didn't matter. "So you wanted an audience? Was it just some sick set-up? It's over... "
"Years over, Kinneas. And I wouldn't use Squall for just that. I was just glad it was you and not one of the girls. Or one of his superiors."
Irvine clenched his fists. "So what are you using him for, Instructor?"
Laguna stared at him. "You're..." And with a flick of his wrist, he yanked Irvine by the hat brim and devoured his mouth.
Every muscle in Irvine's body turned to melted wax. It was a struggle not to moan, not to press his body against Laguna's, and worst of the worst, not to twine his fingers with the cool palm clinging to his hat. Just his luck it had been under a tree much like this one, on a late summer morning like this one, wearing the same hat, tasting the same peppermint in Laguna's mouth, the same dangerous thrill of Laguna's skin brushing his.
The same smirk. "You're too big for any of my lessons, Kiddo."
Irvine was speechless.
"I'd never hurt Squall, if that's what you're worried about. The rest is between me and him. He doesn't know you know, and I'd like to keep it like that till we get things figured out." Laguna let go of his hat and stood up, pocketing his organizer. Then he slapped Irvine's butt. That infuriating grin. "Didn't think I still had it, Kinneas."
Laguna walked away. He walked away. Irvine watched dumbly as the shuttle took off for the train station. All those years, he'd managed to forget him, managed to ignore him and his dreams during that godawful mission, managed to swallow the fact that he was Squall's father, and now, now, his hands were still shaking.
The lucky hat bit the dust. "Goddamnit!"

Part 3 :: going through the motions

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