"Hey there, sexy!" Irvine called as he reached the foot of the stairs. He sauntered up to the object of his salutation and slyly asked, "Have a good night?" The slightly sheepish grin he received in response made him laugh out loud.

"I should be asking you the same question," Squall responded as indignantly as he could with a smile stretching his face. No matter how he tried he couldn't seem to shake it. His cheeks were starting to ache, and that made his grin grow just a little larger.

Oddly enough, the question seemed to have the opposite effect on Irvine. "I—I did, but…" his words trailed off helplessly.

That did it. Squall straightened up. "What happened?" he demanded.

"That's a little personal, don't you think?" In spite of his best efforts Irvine backed a half step away from his friend and superior officer.

"Dammit, Irvine," Squall hissed—no mean feat for a phrase entirely devoid of sibilants—and stepped menacingly closer. "I told you he's been through hell. If you did something to him, or he did something to you, I damn well need to know about it."

"It's personal," Irvine stated stubbornly. "You want to know so bad, ask him yourself!"

"Ask him what?" Seifer came down the stairs of the hotel. His eyes were deeply shadowed, but he wore a tired half smile. "I thought you got enough last night without prying into the sordid details of my love life, Squall." He smirked. "Blondie not enough for you?" he asked in syrupy tones.

"'Blondie' is just fine," Squall said, unable to help the resurfacing grin. He tried to tone it down for his next words. "How are you doing, Seifer?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm worried about you."

Ducking his head to hide his surprise, Seifer shrugged. "Fine. Pervert. The short version."

Irvine interrupted, "It's okay, really. You don't have to tell him."

"No. It's alright." He flashed a smile at Irvine slightly tinged with remorse before turning back to an impatient Squall. "It's pretty simple. Things were going fine until he got my pants off. I had a bit of a flashback. When I realized what was going on, I'd done some damage to lover-boy, here, and he'd gotten me a few times in self-defense. We patched each other up and talked all night."

Squall looked between the two of them, noting the careful stance of the injured and, oddly enough, a sort of concern in both their faces. He shook his head. "I don't want the long version, do I?"

"Probably not," Irvine said.

"No," Seifer stated.

"Not unless you want to share detailed information on your night, that is," Irvine added with a cheerful leer.

"Although we could hear you pretty well as it was," Seifer lecherously chimed in.

"Shut up," Squall mumbled, blushing hard and grinning harder.

"So how was it?" Irvine pressed, nudging Squall in the ribs with his elbow. "Everything you expected?"

Following a long, jeer-filled pause while Squall sought for a response, he finally dredged up, "A gentleman never tells."

"Right. That's why we asked you," Seifer retorted. Irvine only laughed harder.

Selphie, of all people, came to his rescue. "Leave him alone," she called dully from the staircase.

All three turned to look at her. She looked terrible. Her thick, golden hair was sleep-matted and stuck up on one side. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Her skin was slightly green.

"Irvy," she croaked as he went to her in concern, "if I ever drink that much again, kill me."

Smiling fondly, he shook his head. "You look like shit, sweets."

"Good. I'd hate to think I felt this bad without it showing. I see you're not looking much better."

"Sleepless night," he offered with a wink. "So where are our missing lovelies?"

"In the shower," Squall volunteered.

"Alone?" Seifer was smirking again.

"His reject is up there being violently sick," Selphie informed them. She swayed then, unfortunately away from Irvine, who tried to catch her.

Moving quickly, Seifer came to her rescue before she could fall.

"Thanks," she panted, and then groaned softly. "I think I'm gonna be sick, now."

Together they manhandled the severely hung over Selphie back to Seifer's room then waited awkwardly outside the door, trying to ignore the retching within.

"Sooo…" Irvine drawled. "How was your first time?"

"Terrible," Squall answered, face utterly serious.

"But you— The grin! We could hear you!" Irvine stammered while Seifer laughed.

"Oh, last night was great. You asked about my first time." Squall leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest and a smug expression on his face.

"You mean you…?" Irvine began laughing while Seifer redoubled his efforts to breathe.

"Gossiping, Squall?"

Lazily rolling his head to the side, Squall looked at the speaker. Zell looked pale, still wearing his rumpled clothes from the previous night, his wet hair dripping onto his shoulders, reducing the thin fabric of his shirt to transparency.

"Zell," Squall greeted quietly. "You look terrible."

"And I love you, too," the short blond replied dryly. "Tell me, did I have sex last night?"

Facing the three stares that met the question, Zell couldn't help but blush. Still, he gave composure a valiant effort. "I drank too much. I don't remember anything from drinking tequila with Selphie to waking up naked the morning." Despite his efforts he sounded defensive.

"Why are you asking us?" Seifer wanted to know.

"Who else would I ask?" Zell frowned, then cringed when a door down the hall slammed shut.

"Sorry!" Quistis called to them. She approached the group with a happy smile on her lips, her wet hair down around her shoulders. "I forgot that you have to hold these doors so they don't slam on you." She looked around, taking in Zell's pained grimace, Irvine and Seifer's matched set of mischievous smiles, and Squall's broad grin.

Dismissing the others, she focused on Squall. Looking directly into his violet-flecked silver eyes, she said, "Have a good night?"

Squall flicked his eyes down her figure, then inclined his head in an affirmative.

She eased closer. "Good." Reaching out her hand, she cupped his cheek. "So did I." Her fingers flexed in his opal hair as she pulled him down the little bit that allowed their lips to meet. "We'll have to do it again, sometime," she whispered into his smile.

"Lay off the lovey-dovey stuff," Zell groaned. "I've got a serious question here."

"What question?" Quistis asked from her spot in Squall's arms.

"Why don't you ask Selphie?" Irvine inquired.

"Ask me what?" Selphie croaked from behind them. She still looked ill, but at least she'd managed to tame her hair.

"Nuthin'!" Zell exclaimed, but not fast enough.

"Sefie," Irvine drawled with a lazy smirk, "the martial artist formerly known as Spike would like to know if the two of you got naked and bumped uglies, although you qualify as anything but ugly."

Seifer's guffaws echoed down the hall on seeing the look of distaste written on Selphie's doll-pretty features, however pale and green they might currently be.

Quistis bit her lip to keep from laughing and squeezed hard on Squall's hands, which were loosely clasped at her waist.

Squall, for his part, was too busy nuzzling at Quistis neck to notice anything around him.

"No," Selphie slowly said to a claret-faced Zell, "we did not 'bump uglies.'"

"That was Irvine's term! I just asked if we'd had sex!"

Zell's defense was met with a flat glare. "You were too drunk to walk straight," she went on, "and you're hard to carry. Besides, even if I could have gotten you back to your mom's, would you really want her to see you like that?"

"No. It's just that I woke up naked in bed with you, Selphie. I don't remember anything—I just wanted to know what had happened."

"Then why didn't you ask me?"

"Yeah! Why didn't you ask her?"

"Shut up, Seifer! Selph, I asked them because if we had, it would have been really awful if I'd forgotten about it."

"Uh, guys?" Irvine broke in with a barely concealed leer. "I hate to interrupt, but check it out." He nodded in the appropriate direction.

"What?" Selphie turned with the others. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me!"

"I think I'll go gouge my eyes out with a spoon, now," Seifer said to no one in particular.

"Oh, for… Squall!" Zell tugged on his friend's shirt. "What the hell?"

Turning glazed, unfocused eyes to the shorter man, Squall managed a, "Huh?"

Zell snapped his fingers in front of Squall's face a few times. "Reality to Squall; Squall, come in. What are you doing? You're acting like a horny teenager!"

After several languid blinks, Squall licked already wet lips. His gaze swept over his friends: Irvine and Selphie giggling together, Seifer covering his eyes with one hand and shaking his head, and Zell staring reproachfully at him, before fogging over at the sensation of Quistis tonguing his earring.

"He is seventeen," Quistis said indistinctly before dropping her mouth to taste his pulse.

"Get a room!" Seifer cried in response to Squall's moan.

"Good idea," Quistis breathed, and backed up a few steps, drawing Squall along with her. There was a brief glimpse of Squall pulling a foil packet from his shirt pocket before he kicked the door shut.

Seifer made a disgusted sound.

"What?" Zell asked.

"That's my room."

Laughing, Irvine draped an arm over Seifer's slumped shoulders. "It's okay, sweetheart. The maids can clean up." He pulled the other man down and planted a chaste kiss on his scar. "Let's go. I'll buy you breakfast. You two gonna come?"

Selphie and Zell exchanged a look.

"Sure, why not?" she said.

"We'd better," Zell observed, "before they do."

The four of them left.

Awhile later, Squall idly snuggled into Quistis bare chest and sighed. He'd chosen earth over water, deciding that he'd rather be a snowcap than an iceberg.

Besides, he'd always been fond of pillows.