Chapter One
Authoress: Keishi
BIG FAT WARNING:
Contains m/m relationships
ONLY read if you are of age and open-minded!!!
Disclaimer
--
Squall ran with reckless abandon, his small feet and childlike legs carrying him over boulders and between trees, faithfully following the bouncing ponytail before him. He would follow that ponytail to the ends of the lands; his trust was total. He followed it through the forest and over the cliff-- straight down the rocky face to the world below.
The water was a refreshing coldness when he entered feet-first, cooling his sunwarmed skin instantly. He surfaced quickly, spitting up water, and splashed gleefully in the lagoon.
"Hey!" A high-pitched voice greeted him; he turned to the sound. He saw Irvine, his best childhood friend, laugh a moment before a faceful of water greeted him. The splashing fight had officially begun.
"That was fun, wasn't it, Master Squall?" Irvine's large violet eyes were crinkled with the force of the wide smile gracing his face. The pair were trudging back up the hill, soaked to the bone, their clothes sticking to their bodies.
Squall scrunched up his nose. "Don't call me master," he said reproachfully. "When it's just us, call me Squall."
Irvine nodded his assent, and broke into a run. "Betcha can't catch me, Squall!" he called behind him.
Squall smiled softly as he began running again, his eyes firmly on the stream of honey-colored hair where a ponytail once resided. Irvine's hair tie was wrapped around Squall's wrist, where his friend had originally placed it after shaking out his hair. The young boy unconsciously played with the small band as he ran after Irvine, the latter's long legs making sure he always had a short lead. Squall's own legs burned with the effort to at least keep up, but he barely noticed. All that was in his field of vision was Irvine and his long, untamed hair.
--
A young man with long sable bangs blinked open his eyes at the sun. He was lying in a large field of flowers and wild grass. He sat up on one elbow, taking in his surroundings. His mind refused to acknowledge the fact that he was searching for someone; he was always searching for that one person. His sword lay next to him, forgotten, as he surveyed the world around him.
It was a bright summer day, full of promise, and Squall couldn't think of a more beautiful place in all the realms. He squinted, shading his eyes with his other hand. He caught movement out of the corner of one eye and turned his head minutely to get a better look. There appeared to be nothing there, but Squall's instincts told him different. He heard a faint rustle and moved quickly to one side just as a body came flying at him. The person changed course midflight to accommodate Squall's movement and the sable-haired teen was forced back down to the ground, a new weight atop his body.
"Gotcha!" The amber-haired boy crowed, victorious, his hands clamped on Squall's shoulders. The young nobleman smiled up at his friend, rolling his eyes.
"Irvine," Squall admonished. "Aren't we a bit old for these games?"
Irvine's eyes slid partly closed as he leaned down to press his nose against his friend's. "One is never too old for a bit of fun now and then, young lord."
Squall chuckled. "Alright, but we better get back to fencing practice before someone realizes we're not at the palace anymore."
Irvine scoffed. "But fencing practice is so boooring, and I'm not nearly as good as you are at it, Master. Now archery-- there's a fine sport!" He got up and simulated shooting an arrow into the trees, his grin widening as he imagined it hitting it's target dead-on. The 'unfortunate' squirrel looking on from the adjoining wood's shadows turned its head and went about its business, chittering loudly. Irvine mock-bowed, his long ponytail tumbling over his shoulder.
"You know I'm no good at archery, Irvine, I'm much more proficient with the sword." He grinned at Irvine's show as he, too, rose from his comfortable position on the ground. "And don't call me master, how many times do I have to remind you? It makes me feel like a pompous ass."
"Oh, do forgive me, young lord." Irvine bowed even lower to his friend, a wide smile on his face. "I am but a poor villager, a pauper, really. You can't expect me to forget my place as easily as that."
Squall sighed, placing a hand on his hip. "You haven't been a pauper any more than I have, since Father brought you to the palace to live. So don't give me that speech again." He couldn't help smiling at his friend, though, no matter how exasperated he got with him. He picked up his sword and made a few expert slashes with it, cutting into the vegetation. "Come on, we'd better start heading back. The sun's sinking into the hills."
Irvine made a noise of agreement, falling in behind his friend and lord. He unsheathed his own sword and made half-hearted attempts at hacking into the long grass, a small frown on his face. These small trysts out in the fields and woods of Esthar with his only friend were becoming less and less frequent ever since Squall started training to become a knight like his father. Irvine's importance as the role of companion seemed to have also dwindled as of late, and the lanky youth was getting increasingly tired of entertaining himself about the palace and its grounds.
"Squall," he said suddenly, looking up from his contemplation of the ground. Squall stopped and turned to his friend, an open and inquiring look on his face.
Irvine smiled softly at how beautiful his friend looked with the sunlight shining off his hair. A wind blew a strand across Squall's face and Irvine instinctively reached out to brush at it. Squall leant back, eyes widening, and the pair froze like that for a moment, Irvine with his hand partly raised, Squall backing away from his touch. Finally, simultaneously, Irvine dropped his hand and Squall brushed the hair back himself. The young lord turned and continued walking toward the distant palace, and Irvine reluctantly followed.
Night fell, as it tended to do, as the boys made their way on the winding paths up to the sprawling palace they both called home. The structure was a soft, iridescent blue, continuously humming and buzzing with magic. Squall had a whole wing to himself, being the only heir. He tended to share his lodgings with Irvine, who seemed to always be at his side, unless Squall was out in the town or training. Squall honestly didn't know what he'd do without his closest friend.
When they reached Squall's quarters, the nobleman unsheathed his sword and gently placed it on the rack next to the door. He watched Irvine disappear into his own room, off the main entryway, and heard a clattering as, Squall assumed, his friend dumped his sword to the floor. "Irvine," he said warningly, unbuttoning his outerwear and pulling of his boots.
"What?" Irvine shot back, voice distant. Squall shook his head and gave a low laugh. Sometimes his companion could be so dense.
"Be more careful with your weaponry. That particular metal's not cheap, you know."
Muffled mumbling answered Squall through his friend's door. He was almost certain he heard the word 'miser' but he couldn't be sure.
After dinner, Squall sat comfortably in a high-backed wing chair, a fire roaring behind him, giving him just enough light to read the newest in a string of highly adventurous 10-gil paperbacks favored by most boys and young men.
Irvine was sprawled out on the couch next to him, one foot on the floor, the other on the back, reading the previous installment. He scratched at his neck, hair loose and tumbling, as he flipped through the periodical idly. He found most of these stories utterly boring, but read them anyway because Squall always liked to discuss them with him later on. To Irvine, what fun was it to read about other's adventures, when instead, he could be out making his own? He slid his gaze subconsciously to his companion, watching the way the nobleman bit his lower lip during what must have been a particularly delicious part of the novella. 'Gods above and demons below,' thought Irvine as his lips parted slightly, 'the boy doesn't even know the desires he stirs in me.'
"Irvine?"
The long-haired boy quickly flicked his gaze back to the paperback. "Yes?"
A pause. "What were you going to say earlier?"
Irvine's eyes darted side to side, trying to remember. "Earlier when?"
A small sigh escaped Squall's lips. He put his book down and regarded Irvine seriously. "You're not one to forget easily, you elephant. Earlier today, on the way back. You called my name, what did you want?"
"I..." Irvine trailed off, voice dying in his throat. He cleared it lightly. "I wanted to know if you miss me as much as I've missed you lately."
Silence. Irvine's eyes flicked to Squall. Yes, he was still there.
"I mean, it's not like we get to spend much time together like we used to, as children," he clarified.
Squall let out a breath, a soft smile curving his mouth. "Of course I miss you, Irvine. You're my greatest friend."
Irvine grinned back at Squall, and for the moment the two just enjoyed a mutual smile.
"Tell you what," Squall said suddenly. "I'll make plans to clear a couple days for us-- no fencing, no going into town, no knight training whatsoever, and we'll go on a trip, just the two of us. We'll go camping, swimming, just like we used to. I'll even get Cook to make up some of his famous Galbadian pastries for us. Sound like fun?"
Irvine looked away for the briefest of seconds to school his eyes. "Just wonderful."
Squall stood up slowly, stretching out his limbs and yawning. His white undershirt came undone as he did so, and Irvine caught a long line of Squall's flat stomach. He stuffed his burning face back into the borrowed book. "Think I'll retire early, Irvine. Night's rest."
"Night's rest," Irvine mumbled. "Sleep tight," he added under his breath as he watched from the top of the paperback as Squall walked away.
<--back