Originally written for the Strifehart Kink Meme.
Prompt: Squall takes Cloud home and tries to explain to his annoyingly naive father that the man is his lover.
I know, I know, I'm doing so many of these (maybe too many...?). But it's just, well, fun. I prefer it compared to a total lack of activity while I'm still a little dead over my longer series at the moment.
"I don't want to do this," Squall complained. "I can't believe you're making me do this. Why are you making me do this?"
It was the fifty-fifth time Cloud had heard the man grumble since they first got into the car. For one as clammed up and withdrawn as his partner, that was a true feat – a true sign of extreme irritation and reluctance. But it had taken a lot for Squall to agree in the end, and he had to give the other credit for that. So, as usual, he merely sighed and humored him with a reply.
"Because," he said, "you'll have to eventually. Better now than drop on him in the worst case scenario, right?"
"Like what?"
Playfully, he suggested, "Oh, I don't know… Like, our wedding day? If he had no idea and didn't show up in time, who would give you away then?"
Squall took one hand off the steering wheel long enough to point at the blond sitting beside him. "I am not a bride. Erase that thought from your mind at once."
"So we will get married?" Cloud teased.
"I promised nothing," Squall growled back, his hand returning to the wheel. Still, he remained on the topic at hand. "Even if you convinced me, the last person I want to see me in that position is that man."
"Do you hate him that much?"
"… Not really," the brunet conceded reluctantly, "It's just that… well, that man is a moron."
"That man is your father," Cloud corrected gently. He clasped the other man's shoulder in a gentle squeeze as he added, "If there is anyone who has the right to know about us, it is family."
Squall did not pause in thought for very long before he argued, "I don't need his approval."
"Of course not. But don't you at least want his blessing?"
The rest of the drive fell into a strange silence – not awkward nor tense, but strangely solemn. Thankfully, they were almost there already, so it did not take much longer before their small car turned up a driveway and parked before a simple-looking house with walls that had once been white.
"Want me to wait out here?" Cloud offered.
"No," Squall replied, wrenching his door open. "I need you with me."
"Alright."
"Don't misunderstand," the brunet stated quickly. "It's not for moral support. You're just going to be the only thing in the entire house that stops me from killing the guy."
"I didn't say anything," the blond answered smoothly. He followed the other's example to climb out of the car, and caught up to him at the front door. Squall was reaching for the bell when Cloud's hand caught his.
"Don't worry," he assured, earning a halfhearted scoff.
"Don't assume so much," the other retorted.
Their hands parted and the button was pressed just once. The doorbell's muffled ring echoed beyond the wooden barrier for only a short span of time before hurried footsteps grew steadily louder. Then the door was yanked open with equal urgency.
Cloud decided that Squall was one lucky son to inherit the best of both worlds. While the brunet claimed he took after his mother, the blond saw so much of the successor in the predecessor: they had that same strong jaw, the same face shape, even the way their long hair parted and fell to their shoulders seemed near identical. Looking from one to the other, there was no doubting the blood they shared.
"Father," Squall greeted softly.
"Son!" the old man cried out jovially. "You're here!"
Before anyone could so much as blink, the brunet's father had speedily ushered them into his home, seated Cloud on the couch with an offer of tea, and grabbed Squall in a tight one-armed hug.
"My baby boy! I've missed you so! You never visit me enough! Tell me what you've been up to!"
"Get off me," Squall answered bluntly. Wrestling an arm free, he pointed back to where the blond continued to sit numbly and watched the events unfold. "There's someone I want you to meet."
Taking the cue, the blond finally rose partway off the couch and offered a hand. "Hello, sir. My name is Cloud."
"Call me Laguna," the older man insisted warmly. His hand clapped over the offered hand and shook, surprising Cloud with the firm, strong grip. "It's a pleasure to finally meet my son's good friend."
Cloud managed to disguise an inappropriate laugh with a passive grunt. "Hn, yes… 'friend'…"
"Well, you have to be!" Laguna insisted, his head bobbing for emphasis. "Even when he was knee-high, Squall never brought anyone home unless he really liked them. You two must be very close!"
"Actually, Father," Squall interrupted, finally pulling himself free from hug. "That is part of the reason why I came here to talk with you."
"Oh?" and then something seemed to register like a lit bulb in Laguna's head. "O-o-o-o-o-oh…! I see."
The brunet paused, blinking in surprise. Then something also occurred to him as he slipped back into cynicism. "Do you really?"
"Of course," his father answered with a confident nod. "You want to introduce him to a nice girl from your childhood. I understand-"
Squall groaned – he had expected this, but he didn't want it. "No, sir. I-"
"Oh wait, I get it! The nice girl's for you and you need him to back you up! Like brothers sticking together!"
"There is no girl," Squall growled out between the teeth of his clenched jaw. "There never was a girl."
"Oh…" Laguna seemed to deflate a little, but then he was on the rebound. "Well, not right away of course-"
"Look, Father," Squall interrupted again, "just… just empty your mind of all assumptions and let me talk, okay?"
Laguna paused this time, and it took a little longer before he finally nodded. "Go on…"
"Father, I… there is something I have to tell you…" Squall started. Then, with another tired groan, he muttered, "How am I going to put this…?"
Father did not interrupt son, waiting patiently as the brunet gathered his thoughts for some example he could use. Then, at last, Squall looked up again.
"… You know how I always dress like this, right?"
"Sure. You always did like leather," Laguna replied, pointing out his son's pants and the belts about it. "Not sure which one of us you got that from, but if it's what you want…"
"But didn't that ever… imply anything?" Squall prompted, hoping against all hopes, "Doesn't how I dress seem strange to you? Didn't you ever wonder why I like this style so much?"
There was a long, pregnant pause as Laguna hummed in a show of deep thought. Then, with a shimmer of light to his eyes, he tapped lightly at the air as he gave his answer:
"You want to be a biker?"
Squall's palm reacquainted itself with his forehead. "… Let's try something else…"
Blinking in confusion, Laguna shrugged. "… Okay…"
"… Alright, how about what I said earlier? I said there never was a girl, you remember that?"
"Well, you haven't found the right one yet."
"What if I said I'm not interested in girls, at all?"
At the question, the older man promptly answered, "I'm sure that's fairly common with virgins, son. Especially at your age, when you're no longer in puberty and charged with hormones."
"I'm not…" Squall ground out his protest irritably, his palm replaced by a pair of fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, "… Just… let me think…"
Still sitting on the couch, Cloud refrained from laughing aloud for the sake of the other's dignity. Again Laguna waited as Squall, again, attempted to find a method of explanation that worked.
"… Guess I'll have to be a bit more direct," he mused aloud. Then he was looking back at his partner. His hand was out waiting. The blond rose and took it. At the intimate gesture, Laguna merely stared.
"Father," Squall stated firmly, "Cloud and I live together."
"Really?" Laguna piped up, a grin on his face. "Sounds like fun. You know, I used to live with your Uncles Kiros and Ward and about a couple hundred other men back in my army days."
"No, not like that… Look, we," – the hands squeezed tightly, increasing the intimacy display – "We sleep together."
"Oh, you're bunkmates too? That explains a lot…"
"Not in that sense. See, we are in love with one another."
"… You're a bromance! Of course! I heard about those on TV, like-"
"For the love of…" Squall trailed off. He was done with this. Time to get even more direct. "Father, I'm gay. Cloud and I, we're both gay."
There was a long, definite silence. Laguna had stopped talking altogether, an unreadable expression on his face. Squall and Cloud shared a discreet glance – had they done it? Did he understand now?
"… okay," Laguna finally answered. "And what are you so happy about?"
Exasperation hit like shit on a fan, cueing not one but both of the young men to sigh deeply and look away in a strange mix of pity, irritation, incredulousness and plain confusion.
"Sweet Shiva, he still doesn't get it…" Cloud muttered.
"Get what?" Laguna asked innocently. "Is there something I should know?"
"Damn it, Father!" Squall snapped, having reached the end of his rope. "How can I possibly make this easier to understand?! How about I just say that Cloud and I have sex with each other?!"
"Squall!" both men beside him cried out in alarm. Regardless, it was progress.
"That's exactly it, Father," Squall continued while he was on a roll. "We have been doing the adult-only thing you and Mother used to do when you figured Ellone and I weren't there to watch. We baby-make without the baby. I've had Cloud stick his part inside me as a man would do to a-"
A hand clapped over his mouth. Cloud's hand.
"That…" the blond stated carefully, "will have to do."
Squall thought to argue when he suddenly noticed the pallor on his father's face. Despite himself, he felt a twinge of regret. He had only meant to explain the truth to the man, not give the poor guy a panic attack.
"… You mean," Laguna squeaked, his finger out and waving between the couple. "You two are…?"
"Together," Cloud reaffirmed. "Just like you and his mother."
In jerking motions, Laguna gestured as he clarified further, "And Squall is… well… does the 'woman' part?"
"It's called the 'bottom', sir," Cloud explained.
Laguna sounded like he was croaking. Or choking. It wasn't all that clear as another strangled squeak escaped the shocked man. Watching him, Squall moved his hand to pry Cloud's from his mouth and reached toward his father, thinking maybe he could offer some condolence. Before his hand could reach so much as the man's shoulder, Laguna howled and threw his hands upward as he cried in dismay.
"Oh my- Raine!" he wailed at the ceiling above their heads. "Raine, honey! Our son is a lesbian!"
"Lesbians are female, Father," the brunet attempted to explain through his embarrassment. "I'm male. That makes me gay."
"But you don't look happy-"
"I was very happy when I didn't have to come here and explain all this to you!"
At this point, Cloud knew he could take no more and doubled over in helpless laughter. Next to him, Squall was fuming. Across from them, Laguna was plaintively distraught.
"Father…" Squall ground out. When that failed to garner a response, he snapped again, "Dad!"
Laguna promptly stopped grieving and looked up. "Yes?"
"There is only one thing I need to know," Squall explained. He took a deep, calming breath, and then he asked the question: "Do you hate me for being like this?"
"What?" Laguna squawked, before his hands shot out in a desperate pacifying gesture. "No-no-no-no-no, don't take it that way! I didn't mean it like that!"
"It's fine, sir. There are many people who don't approve of such relationships-"
"Well, I won't be one of them!" the older man declared firmly. Before Squall could protest any further, he grabbed the boy by the arms and held him in place. "You're still my boy, aren't you? You can't tell me to hate my own kid…!"
Instantly, Squall seemed to give up, softening his stance to a much more vulnerable state. There was something in his eyes – sobered up by the recent exchange, Cloud recognized the emotion, saw that it was hope.
Swallowing carefully, Laguna continued, "I'll get used to this, you'll see. I want you to be happy, son, no matter what you decide in your life."
At last, Squall moved. His hands reached up to clasp the man by his elbows, and his voice was low, choked with emotion.
"I didn't… I thought…" He stopped, a rare smile forming on his face. "Thank you, Dad. That means a lot to me."
"Come here, boy."
And Laguna wrapped his son in a second hug, one that was reciprocated hesitantly. When they separated again, there seemed to be something different in the atmosphere, a result of the newfound respect and rediscovered loyalty between father and child.
"I've got one last question," the father said. "If that's alright."
"Go ahead," the son consented.
"I can still have grandchildren, right? … What? What did I say?"
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