Disclaimer: No implied ownership, no financial gain. This is a fanwork.
Summary: A very not-drunk!Squall makes his move.
Notes: 15 Minute Ficlet - story title is the prompt. Contains Incest.
"Squall," Laguna said, trying to catch his son's eyes with his own. "You're drunk."
"No I'm not," Squall replied. "I didn't have more than one drink."
"You carried the same half-filled glass around all night?" Laguna asked incredulously.
"It kept Rinoa away from me." Squall paused a moment. "Besides, you kissed me back."
The office they were in was far away from the political soiree still underway. Squall wasn't sure exactly whose office it was, but it served its purpose for the time being.
"What was I supposed to do - knock you into the wall?"
"I know fully well that you could without effort," Squall said, taking a step forward to counter the one back that he couldn't remember Laguna taking. They were close enough for contact again.
"This isn't right," Laguna protested, his words sounding unsure as they left his mouth.
"Neither is the political bullshit we've both sat through all day," Squall replied, catching Laguna off guard again with a very quick, chaste kiss.
"Ow," Laguna muttered, stepping back and rubbing at his leg. "Ow ow ow..."
Halfway through bringing his hand to his head in sheer disbelief, Squall thought it wiser to help Laguna to the floor.
Squall paused, his hand just above where Laguna had been rubbing just a moment before.
"I'm okay with it." He pushed Laguna's approaching hand away and brought his own down to attempt to massage away the pain.
Some sort of noise caught in Laguna's throat, making Squall smirk.
"You did kiss me back," Squall reminded him, leaning close, but not moving his hand.
"It's still, um, not right," Laguna said, suddenly wishing he'd turned on the lights when he'd retreated into the office unaware that he was being followed.
Squall didn't offer words. Instead he gently licked Laguna's lips, silently requestion presidential permission to do more.
Drink Lemonade! Tip Your Waitress!