| The Courtesan Chapter Three Authoress: Keishi BIG FAT WARNING: Contains m/m relationships ONLY read if you are of age and open-minded!!! Disclaimer |
| Author's Note: In this chapter, I mention that Squall and a few others are squires; since they're all also nobility, I've made it so they don't have to serve a knight as part of their training. Just in case anyone was wondering. The ball was already well underway when Squall made his inconspicuous entrance. Surveying the thrumming room, he found his father quite easily, laughing loud and drunkenly with an unknown, but important-looking, older fellow. "Probably drunk off his ass by now," he muttered to himself. Catching a glass of champagne as a waiter passed, Squall took a sip, arching his eyebrow as he caught the eye of Kiros, his father's advisor, across the room. He put a finger to his lips, then pointed to Laguna, indicating he didn't want his joyful father to know he had arrived yet. The regent's right-hand man nodded almost imperceptibly, letting his gaze sweep away from Squall. Inching along the outer ring of guests, Squall spotted his good friend Zell, also a knight-in-training, glaring across the room. Standing behind him and following his line of vision, Squall saw the reason for his friend's discomfort. "Already had words with the resident bad boy, have we, Zell?" Squall remarked lowly into the stocky blond's ear. Zell jumped, a tiny squeak escaping his lips. Turning his impressive glare onto Squall, Zell hissed out, "Don't do that, man! What, do you want to send me to an early grave?" Squall rolled his eyes, face impassive. He was quite used to the blond squire's outbursts. He was about to tell Zell to calm down, when a low baritone interrupted him. "Good of you to finally show up to your own ball, Leonhart." Squall regarded the regal blond coolly. He had never particularly liked the broad-shouldered, arrogant man, though he couldn't exactly put his finger on why. "Almasy," was all the greeting he offered. "Leonhart?" cut in a new, decidedly feminine voice. Squall cut his eyes to the young brunette hanging off Seifer's arm. She was curvy, long-legged and pleasant-faced, with expressive chocolate eyes. Squall could see exactly why Seifer's arm was wrapped so possessively around her waist. "Are you Laguna's son?" Arching an eyebrow at the girl's casual use of his father's name, Squall nodded. "I am. And you might be?" She opened her mouth to reply, a warm blush across her cheeks at Squall's scrutiny, but Seifer cut her off. "No one you should be concerned with, Squire Leonhart." Zell bristled next to him, but Squall laid a calming hand on his shoulder. His eyes were icy as he regarded Seifer, as though he were looking at a particularly distasteful bug. "Are you implying that I am below your station, Squire Almasy? Because I can assure you, I am not." Nonchalant, he took a drink of his champagne. Seifer smirked. "I wouldn't dream of contesting your stature, Leonhart. It's your fabled prowess with the sword I doubt." "Bastard," Zell spat. Squall's eyes flashed at Seifer's words, though his outward demeanor remained calm. "Dare you to find out for yourself?" One finely sculpted blond eyebrow rose. "Is that a challenge, Squall?" Squall gave Seifer a dark look. "Are you really as stupid as you appear? Do I have to find a glove and slap you across the face with it, because if I do, trust I'll find unending pleasure in doing so." Seifer snarled, moving as if to do something extremely violent to the stoic Squall. However, he was stopped when Regent Laguna Loire stepped between the pair, unwittingly ending the scene between the two men. "Squall!" he exclaimed loudly, only slightly slurring his son's name. "Where have you been hiding?" Putting a companionable arm around Squall's shoulders, he steered him toward the center of the ballroom. "Come, my son, there is someone I want you to meet." He was leaning only slightly on Squall as the pair made their way over to the man Squall saw his father talking to earlier. Stopping in front of him, Laguna smiled brightly. "Ah! General Caraway, I'd meet you to like my son, Squall." Shooting his father a strange look, Squall grasped the general's hand in a firm handshake. "Pleased to meet you, General," he said neutrally. "Ah, likewise, likewise, young man," Caraway said, giving Squall a strange smile, as if they shared a secret. Squall grimaced only slightly when the older man slapped his shoulder jovially, gripping it harder than he thought necessary. Caraway swung him close, and leaned to whisper into his ear. "You're a fine man, Squall. You'd make a wonderful addition." "Addition to what?" Squall's thoughts were voiced, but not by him. Caraway straightened abruptly, smiling at the girl Squall had seen earlier with Seifer. "Rinoa, darling! Come meet young Squall here!" Taking a few steps forward, Rinoa looked at her father warily. "What were you two talking about?" she asked, clearly not allowing herself to be distracted from her question. Caraway laughed, a bit strained. "Don't worry yourself about that, daughter," he coddled, wagging a finger at her. The girl called Rinoa scoffed, hands on her hips, but said nothing else. "Why don't you and young Leonhart here have a nice dance? Hmm?" Prodding Squall in the back, he propelled him toward the girl. "Have fun!" He waved gaily, disappearing back into the crowd. Squall suspected he was headed toward the refreshment area to get more alcohol; that was where Laguna had wandered off to, anyway. A small cough brought Squall back to the girl standing in front of him. She was peering up at him almost shyly now, one foot toeing the floor, hands wrung together. Squall stood there, not really knowing what to do. After an awkward silence, Rinoa sighed. "Come on," she said, grabbing Squall's arm, "just dance with me once, or he'll pester us all night." Allowing himself to be pulled onto the dance floor, Squall said, "Won't your boyfriend have a problem with us dancing?" "Oh, Seifer? He's not my boyfriend," Rinoa laughed. "I mean, we tried, once, but it just didn't work out. He's more like my big brother now." "Ah." Holding the girl relatively close, Squall led her around the ballroom floor, dancing to the somewhat upbeat music. He briefly wondered what Irvine was doing right now. It had to be better than this, he thought. Rinoa looked up at him, regarding him through playful eyes. "So where's your significant other tonight?" Squall coughed, not expecting the question. "Don't have one," he managed out. "Oh, that's too bad," Rinoa mock-pouted, with a hint of a smile on her pretty face. At the back of the room, a lone figure leaned against a doorway, arms crossed. Irvine knew he wasn't supposed to be there, but he couldn't resist the chance to watch the object of his affection in action. He smiled softly as he followed Squall across the ballroom floor, a pretty brunette in his arms. Irvine could tell, by the way he was holding the girl, that he wasn't the slightest bit interested. In fact, he seemed a bit flustered. Irvine briefly wondered what the girl was talking to him about. Eyes sweeping over the gala affair, Irvine sighed, internally wishing he could freely go about the room, as if he truly belonged. The ballroom was gorgeous, the decorations tasteful yet jaw-dropping, exactly as they should be given Laguna's station. He watched all the handsome young men in their frock coats, the ladies resplendent in their dresses, but none of them looked as beautiful as his Squall. His Squall. Irvine cringed at the mental slip. Squall was no more his than any of the things sitting in his wardrobe. He was a friend out of convenience, not because Squall had any choice in the matter. Frowning, Irvine found his gaze back on the brunet, unconsciously tracing his movements, graceful as they were. Just as he was about to turn and go back to their quarters, his eyes met a pair of discerning brown ones across the way. Coloring, Irvine offered Kiros a sheepish grin as the regent's aide looked at him sternly, silently reprimanding him. Sighing, Irvine left, reminded once more of his station in life. Kiros had been watching Irvine for some time, his curiosity becoming more piqued as he watched the tall, lanky man stare at Squall. He saw something in Irvine's eyes he wasn't all that unfamiliar with, and it began to raise questions in his mind. When Irvine had finally noticed his scrutiny, he had blushed like a girl caught staring at a crush. Tapping Laguna on the shoulder, he whispered a few things in his ear. Laguna perked up, listening attentively. He gave Kiros a questioning look when he finished. Kiros only nodded, face serious. Gazing over to where Irvine had been standing, Laguna looked thoughtful for a moment; then he nodded. Kiros smiled softly, stepping close to the regent. He let his hand brush against the other's arm discreetly before he left, using the same exit Irvine had only moments ago. -- A soft snick announced Kiros' entrance into the great room. Irvine looked up from where he lay sprawled on the couch, thinking about Squall. He got up, quickly inching his hand away from the waistband of his pants. "Master Kiros," he greeted formally, inclining his head. "At ease, Irvine," the aide chuckled, taking a seat in Squall's armchair. "This is an informal visit." Irvine lowered himself back onto the couch, elbows on his knees. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Kiros watched Irvine for a moment, face unreadable. "I wanted to talk to you about tonight. I noticed you were paying Squall quite a bit of attention." 'Straight to the point as always, dutiful Kiros,' Irvine thought, raising a finger to his lips. He looked up when he heard the other lightly cough. "I'm sorry, I knew I shouldn't have been there. I can assure you, it won't happen again." A shadow passed over Irvine's features, clouding them. Reaching out, Kiros palmed the honey-haired man's cheek, forcing his gaze on him. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, then Kiros said, "You're in love with him, aren't you?" Irvine pulled away, standing quickly. "I don't know what you're talking about." He kept his voice light. Kiros stood as well, keeping his eyes on Irvine, quietly patient. "I know what you're going through. The longing, the desire to touch him, to tell him how you feel. Wishing a thousand times over that you were a noble, someone worthy enough, anyone but who you actually are." Irvine's breath caught in his throat. He felt relief flood his veins; someone actually understood. Kiros continued, eyes distant. "Sometimes the need grows too strong, and you find yourself unconsciously doing things you normally wouldn't. Staring at him, letting your touch linger, not listening when he speaks because you've become transfixed with his lips, and how sweet they most likely taste..." Kiros trailed off, eyes fixing on Irvine as if seeing him for the first time. He stepped forward, brushing his hand over the fall of curls at Irvine's temple, running his fingers through them down to his jawline, cupping his chin. "I can help you, Irvine," he murmured, thumb caressing his bottom lip. "I can help you realize at least part of your dream. I can help you make Squall yours." He inched closer, mouth hovering over Irvine's. "Let me guide you..." He then kissed Irvine, slow and deep. |