| The Courtesan Chapter Two Authoress: Keishi BIG FAT WARNING: Contains m/m relationships ONLY read if you are of age and open-minded!!! Disclaimer |
| "Squall..." Squall rolled over onto his side, flinging one arm over his face, blocking out the suddenly blinding light. "Squall, it's time to get up, you've slept half the day away." The voice was getting nearer. Squall groaned softly, snuggling further into his blankets. "Oh come _on_, sleepyhead!" Now the voice was next to his ear, and Squall was awake enough to recognize it as Irvine's. He blinked open his eyes a nanosecond before Irvine flung the covers away from his sleeping friend, revealing a half-naked, very lethargic, knight-in-training. "Why do I have to get up?" Squall mumbled, only halfway attempting to regain his bedcovers. "It's one of the few days I don't have to get up early for training." He looked crossly at his friend; he had been having a wonderful dream before he was so rudely awakened. Now if he could only remember what it was about... Irvine let out an exasperated sigh, bedcovers still clutched in his hand. "You've forgotten already, I see. Maybe this will clue you in: what has your father been working tirelessly on for the past _year_, just for you?" Squall groaned, rubbing his face. "The ball." "Give the boy a cookie. Now, I suggest you get that cute rump out of bed and start getting ready for it. You've only a few hours until it begins." Squall started to slide out of bed, but paused with only one leg thrown over. He frowned at Irvine. "What?" "You just said my rear was cute." Irvine rolled his eyes, though his cheeks were slightly pink. "Get over yourself. And get up already! Come on, you know I _hate_ to be the taskmaster." "...Whatever." Squall blinked at his friend as he donned his shirt from yesterday. "Any tea made?" "You go take a bath, I'll bring you a cup, okay? After I make sure your clothes for this evening have been properly delivered, that is." Squall nodded groggily as he made his way into the washroom. He smiled faintly as he saw that Irvine had already drawn him up a bath, the water hot and steaming and just about perfect. He shed his clothes easily and sank down slowly into the water, sighing contentedly as the heat all but erased the tension in his body. Now if only he could persuade Irvine to rub his shoulders while he was in here, life really would be perfect. Closing his eyes, he let his head fall back and just relaxed, almost completely immersed in the bath. "Here's your tea," Irvine announced somewhat loudly, bumping open the ajar door with his shoulder and entering, carrying a tray. "Not so loud." Squall winced a bit. "Sorry," Irvine lowered his voice, kneeling by the tub. Squall opened his eyes and turned his head toward his lanky friend. "Hey," he said softly in greeting. "Hey," Irvine answered, just as softly. He laid the tray down on a small table next to the tub, and handed Squall the cup. "How's the bath?" Squall made a contented sound. "Perfect, as always. I didn't even hear you draw it up." Irvine chuckled, and Squall marveled at how easy smiles came to his friend's face. "Well, when you sleep like the dead, one doesn't expect you to hear much at all." Squall made a protesting sound, which quickly became one of utmost delight as he took a sip of tea. "Wonderful. Just what I needed." Irvine's smile grew at the compliment. "That's the only thing I tend not to get right every time. Glad it's good this time." Squall nodded, closing his eyes again. For a minute, neither spoke, Squall laying in the tub, enjoying himself, and Irvine, kneeling beside his friend, watching him. "Well," Irvine said, breaking the silence. "I'd better go get your clothes ready. Just come on in to my bedroom when you're done and we'll get you suited up, alright?" Again, Squall nodded, and Irvine left him to his soak. Approximately an hour later, Squall slowly turned in front of his friend. "How do I look?" Irvine mentally picked his jaw off the floor. He shook his head briefly, taking in the sight of his best friend and secret crush. The coat Squall was wearing was custom-made and of a dark, dark material that shimmered softly. The shirt was a soft beige, just the right balance to not make the outfit appear harsh. The pants were Squall's own, worn and soft, but the black leather made a lovely contrast to the creamy peasant shirt and jacket. Squall's mark of house, the Griever pendant, rested comfortably on his collarbone, glinting in the afternoon light filtering through the high windows. "You look like a prince," Irvine breathed. Squall laughed out loud at that. "Now, don't make me start thinking above my station. That would just be scandalous." Irvine's cheeks burned, but he turned away before Squall could see. "You're right, wouldn't want you to get a bigger head than you already have, right, _Sir_ Leonhart?" Squall rolled his eyes, but grinned at his friend. "Like I could ever forget my place with you around, Irvine. Honestly, you'd think as many times as I tell you--" "Yeah, yeah, I know, when it's just the two of us, you're just 'Squall,' I know." Irvine sat down on his bed, drawing his legs up. "And that's just it-- it's only when no one else is around. You may not care that I'm not nobility, but all everyone else sees is the poor little orphan boy that was graciously taken in by Sir Loire. It's as if I owe some great favor to this house and no one will allow me to forget that. It's not that I'm not grateful, because I _am_, in more ways than one, it's just--" "Irvine, shut up." Squall said, exasperated. He sat down on the bed next to his friend. "I don't want you to feel like you owe anyone anything, because you don't. If you hadn't been there when I was a child, I would have grown up incredibly lonely, and more withdrawn than I already am. As it is, you're the only one I confide in; imagine if you were never there at all? You've kept me sane, and happy, and I will always thank you for that. Don't let me hear you talk like this again, alright?" His face was just a tad angry. Irvine looked at Squall intently, a sad smile on his face. "Alright. Hey!" He jumped off the bed, clapping his hands together. "It's almost time for the ball. Better hurry, Squall." Squall sighed, resigned to his fate, and stood. The nobleman pivoted gracefully, coattails flying out, as he stalked on long legs toward the doorway. "I suppose I'd _better_ be going, Father'd have a fit if I were late. I promise I'll not be too late in getting back. Wait up for me?" Irvine looked briefly into his friend's warm eyes, all traces of anger gone, open and honest just for him. He felt his heart constrict at the look. "Of course. What kind of companion would I be otherwise?" Squall could have asked for the moon with those eyes, and Irvine would have happily spent his entire life building a bridge to it for him. A smile ghosted across Squall's lips, eyes holding Irvine's gaze a moment longer; then he was gone, the door closing soundlessly behind him. |