I figured I might as well start the ball rolling even though I'm a day late on top of all the extensions...
Title: Royal Flush Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII Author: WinglessGryphon Rating: PG Disclaimer: I do not own them, Sam I Am Pairing: Irvine/Squall Warnings: None, other than a poker scene written by someone who's never played poker Challenge: [SCRAPS Round] Irvine/Squall - When strip poker goes too far. Bonus points if they're not drunk or couples before they play! [for seraphjewel]
"That should just about do it," Quistis said, flourishing the eyeliner pen as Selphie tilted her her and smiled at her reflection.
Irvine looked at them from under the brim of his hat. "Finally. Quisty, how do you plan on getting everyone into position before eight? You'll need to clear everyone with the hotel security, and you still haven't told Squall and I where we'll..." he trailed off. "Don't tell me."
"Sorry Irvine," said Selphie, "but Mr. Reilly didn't want somebody to see you two on the roof and connect the dots, so we had to nix the sniping plan." The two female SeeDs slunk towards the door, their sequined gowns glittering in the muted lamplight.
Quistis gestured at Squall, who had fallen asleep sometime between the girls' blush and eyeshadow application, and said, "When he wakes up, tell him we went on to Plan B." She coaxed Zell out of his chair, straightened his bow-tie, and hauled him down to the casino.
Selphie sat down on the bed next to the sniper. "I know you were excited about the five of us going on a mission together again--Squall said as much, too--"
"I'm not sure about Squall, but when I said I wanted some action, I meant something else."
"Well then, you, your insufferable charm, our gorgeous Commander, and a night in Deling City... Sounds like a winning combination," Selphie replied. The girl started when Quistis's impatient shout carried down the hallway. "Don't wait up."
As the door clicked shut, Squall cautiously opened an eye. "Have they left yet?"
"Yep. They've moved on to Plan B, leaving us to rot away in a dingy hotel room in the prime of our youth. On the bright side, we have two hundred channels and room service."
Irvine sprawled across the bed and turned his attention to some grainy forensics show while Squall began work on the mission report, which would eventually find its way back to him in a mountain of paperwork at Balamb Garden. As missions went, this one could have been executed satisfactorily by a couple of female cadets willing to show some skin. However, Jared Reilly, their client and owner of the Lucky Reels hotel and casino, was willing to cough up double the Commander's salary to hire the most skilled SeeDs in the world. If they could kill a sorceress, they could surely dispose of an unwelcome guest without drawing suspicion upon his establishment.
Zell, acting as their man on the inside, would pose as a dealer and stack the deck in the target's favor. With their target placated by a winning streak, Quistis and Selphie would move in, legs bared and dresses blazing. The girls had consented to be arm candy until they could lure the target away from the tables and into the final phase of the operation, where, in an alley far away from any security cameras, Quistis would slit his throat with a stiletto blade while Selphie rifled through his pockets. The police would file the scene away as a mugging gone wrong and Zell would smuggled the girls back to their room unseen.
The pen fell from Squall's fingers as the SeeD finished the report. It had taken a paltry thirty minutes, and the rest of the evening stretched dismally before the two men. Irvine, meanwhile, had grown bored with the crime show and slowly flipped through the channels. His eyes followed the Commander as he sauntered from the desk to the second bed, where Squall stretched sensually before collapsing onto the comforter. Irvine looked away before Squall caught him staring.
"Do you need a new blender?" the cowboy asked suddenly.
"Do I...what?" Squall asked, raising an eyebrow, "no, never mind."
Irvine turned the television off, sighing, "Well then, aside from watching infomercials there's nothing else to do unless...." He leaned up on his elbows. "Wanna play cards?"
Before he could blink, Squall had pulled a pack of jewel-toned cards from seemingly nowhere and was spreading them out between the beds.
Irvine joined him on the floor, but said, "Please, not Triple Triad, anything but that." He rummaged through a drawer until he found one of the casino's old decks. "Besides, you've already won all my good cards."
"Fine," said Squall as he gathered up his cards. "What did you have in mind?"
"Strip poker," the other man replied. He sent the Commander a cocky smirk, hoping it hid the nervousness he was feeling. After leaving Rinoa, Squall hadn't paid any notice to what Irvine considered obvious (and irresistible) come-ons. Selphie thought this was because Squall could see right through his ploys, but Irvine preferred to believe Squall was too busy sulking to realize he could have anyone he wanted, not just whiny, unappreciative girls. The cowboy prayed the whole thing wouldn't blow up in his face.
Squall brushed his fingers across his scar as he considered the challenge. He'd known for a while that Irvine was interested in him, and though the other man was undeniably attractive, he hadn't wanted to start another relation when the ruins of his old one were still smoldering. Now, however, it couldn't hurt to see how the evening played out.
"Sure, whatever," he said, and he almost instantly regretted it. In the first three hands, he lost his boots and bomber jacket. Irvine lost his hat when Squall played a paltry trio of nines. Squall glared over the tops of his cards at the growing black and white pile as he relinquished his socks. Irvine glared back as he shrugged off his coat, but when the other man failed to notice his lecherous wink, he knew the gloves would have to come off. Five hands later, they did, two pairs dropping onto the heap of boots and clothing.
“Hey Squall~,” drawled Irvine, fanning out a full house, "fork over a belt or two."
The Commander got to his feet and unbuckled his top belt. As it slid to the floor, Irvine rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, you could at least try to lose with a bit of flair. Like this," he said, and the temperature of the room became stifling. Squall blinked and Irvine's fingers hooked under his remaining belts. With a few skilled tugs, they slipped free of the belt loops, and the two men were finally on equal footing.
Irvine whispered, "This should be the last hand," and he stepped back. The two of them had lost everything but their jeans--and Squall's Griever pendant, but that didn't count as clothing so much as a metallic limb. The cowboy grinned at the crimson flush slowly staining Squall's pale skin and he mirrored it.
"A royal flush," he said, "in hearts." He looked up to see Squall peeling off his leather pants. His jaw dropped.
After a while, Irvine hissed, "I think that counts as cheating. Also, I never pictured you as a briefs kind of guy."
"Shut up," Squall said, muttering something else about the leather sticking in the heat.
The other man shrugged. "Okay, now it's the last hand," Irvine replied, dealing the cards. They looked down at the prize pool and back up at each other. Irvine tossed his cards down.
He crawled towards Squall, saying, "Unless you can beat four of a kind, I win."
Squall tried to keep his distance and scooted back until he was pinned against the side of the bed. "I haven't even gotten to--mmph!" Irvine settled his mouth over Squall's, effectively silencing him. As he did so, he snuck a peek at the other man's hand. Two sevens wouldn't have saved him. Squall started to respond; he parted his lips and...nearly bit Irvine's tongue off when the door swung open.
"Did ya miss us?" squealed Selphie, and she threw off her jacket to reveal a glistening trail of arterial spray soaking into the front of her dress. Quistis appeared to be in a similar state. It dawned on them that two men present weren't exactly decent, and they snickered.
"I think it's obvious they didn't," added Quistis. They kept laughing, even after they were tossed back out into the hall and the door slammed shut behind them.
Comments and criticisms are always welcome, even if you just want to tell me I've dishonored the community, the fandom, or my own family. You know, whatever.