Shorties

"What is this!?" Riku slapped the thick packet of his dissertation on Squall Leonhart's desk.

Impassive brown eyes traveled from the paper to Riku, without so much as a raised eyebrow. "Isn't that the question I should be asking you, Mr. Ichiji?"

Riku colored and pointed a quivering finger at the bold, red 'F' scrawled on the cover page "An F? It may not be a fucking masterpiece, but I know it's not that bad."

Squall crossed his arms, leaning back. "'Not that bad,' you say? Alright Mr. Ichiji, it's not bad."

Riku was glowering now. "Then why is there an F on it? Take it off." Squall studied him quietly, which only incensed Riku further. "At least give me the grade I deserve!" he growled.

At this Squall did raise an eyebrow. "That is the grade you deserve." Riku opened his mouth to protest, but Squall interrupted. "I know your writing, Riku." Riku blinked at the sudden change in address, open mouth snapping shut. "This, from you, is frankly garbage. It's bullshit, and you know it. Is this how you will approach your career in academia? Half-assed?"

Riku's shoulders slumped. "I—"

"You didn't put in the effort, and it shows. How do you expect to succeed if you can't offer your best even for something like this?"

Riku scowled and looked away. "I was distracted."

Squall was silent for a moment, mouth set in a hard line. Finally he said, "Okay. I'll take the F off. But you have to strip." His lips tilted in a smirk.

Riku's eyes snapped back to Squall. "I—what?"

"Strip. Take your shirt off."

Riku gaped. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"That's what I thought when I read your dissertation. So. You heard me. Take. It. Off."

"What, here?"

Squall uncrossed his arms. Stood and came to the other side of his desk, a hand caressing Riku's arm. He trailed it down to the hem of Riku's shirt, gripping it. "Off."

"Can't this wait until we get home?" Riku muttered.

This time Squall raised both eyebrows and turned to rap his knuckles on the red F.

Riku had the grace to look contrite. "Fine." He shucked his shirt in one quick motion. Squall's hands ghosted over his bare skin and then retreated again, to let Riku wiggle out of his skinny jeans, toeing off his shoes along the way. Once he was bare, he sent Squall a glare, arms akimbo. "Happy now?"

"No. Sit." Squall gestured to his vacated seat. "Write me something beautiful."

Riku plopped into the chair without ceremony and wordlessly accepted the notebook and pen Squall gave him. "Whatever you say, lover." His mouth was in a thin line as he considered the blank page.

Squall leaned against the opposite wall, watching him. It was a lovely sight, not just seeing his lover nude, complying with his request, but to see him sink into the writing process. His face softened in increments, his mouth relaxing, his eyes gazing inward. The only thing that didn't soften was his brow, which furrowed in thought.

He could fall in love all over again.

The scratching of pen on paper had already paused, Riku's eyes far, far away, when Squall joined him on the other side of the desk. He tucked a knuckle under Riku's chin, and Riku came back to earth slowly, green eyes focusing on Squall just before the other man leaned down to press their lips together.

"It's not done," Riku protested, but Squall only offered a dismissive grunt before continuing the kiss.