strifehart - goofy kiss (the dumbest and goofiest pls)
meme.
hugs or kisses !
41. goofy kiss
[ @guru–guru, because you’re the @strifedhearts to my @grieverhearts ] // not accepting !
[ remember that single dad AU that was the worst shit we ever wrote jk it was great ]
“Romantic, yeah?” Squall asked, in that flat way of his that obfuscated any indication of his actual mood. Sarcastic? Earnest? Joking? No way to tell.
Hot dog stand wasn’t either of their first choice for a date night, but there they were. Cloud knew if it was up to Squall, there’d be candles and moonlight and all the stereotypical romantic trappings that any other person on earth would think was as cheesy as a Harlequin romance novel. But Selphie was in the middle of finals and an hour with the kids was all she could manage, and Cloud and Squall were desperate enough to take what they could get.
So that’s how they ended up at Wieners R Us, chomping on onion rings so crispy they cut the roofs of their mouths, laughing at their own lame jokes that were hilarious to them only because they were too tired to be discerning.
“Whatever, man,” Cloud grinned around a mouthful of questionable meat. “I love hot dogs. It’s like a zoo in every bite.”
“Well, that just makes it interesting,” Squall pointed out, gesturing distractedly with his hot dog, flinging a globule of ketchup upon Cloud’s hand, which he wiped off with put upon disgust, a facetious frown twisting at his lips. “Doesn’t make it romantic.”
“What’s interesting is that you eat hot dogs like a heathen,” Cloud said archly, meeting Squall’s gaze with a hard look of challenge. “Who eats them with ketchup? Heathens. Everyone knows you only eat them with mustard. It’s the only acceptable way.”
“Honestly? You’re so wrong it’s cute,” Squall laughed, his head shaking with a careful disappointment as he shifted lazily in his chair.
And it wasn’t until Squall slipped sinuously from the table bench and genuflected upon the linoleum floor did Cloud realize belatedly what was happening, and whispered softly (but with feeling), “No.”
“Oh my gawd!” A northern-accented woman wailed from a table across the way. “He’s gonna propose!”
Cloud blushed furiously at the attention, blotching over like an overripe tomato as the woman and her friend screeched delightedly from their corner, watching Squall reach slowly over the devastation of torn condiment packages and wadded up napkins to fish out a cold onion ring from the dwindling pile.
“No,” Cloud begged, shaking his head desperately now, shuddering at the scrape of breaded onion scraping up his ring finger to settle within the crook of his fingers. “For god’s sake …..”
But Squall was beaming, positively beaming, a beatific smile that illuminated the bright of his eyes carved upon his hot dog grease-stained lips, his fingers grasping Cloud’s in tentative measure.
“This is a bad idea,” Cloud warned, his voice pitched low in what could only sound like a threat. “Holy shit.”
“Cloud,” Squall went on brightly, heedless of that. He sighed, long and loud, his shoulders following the raise of his chest to drop theatrically with the put upon dreaminess of a prepubescent. “I first fell in love with you when you got my name wrong, that day at the Chuck E Cheese, when I took your son out for his birthday, in recompense for my daughter pushing him off the playground slide. I mean, the kid dropped like a stone, god bless, you remember that? Anyways, you called me Squirrel and it was so incredibly incorrect, that it was almost too adorable to correct. Kind of like how you’re wrong about mustard on hot dogs. But you know what? I’m willing to overlook that, magnanimous as I am. Because your unfailing kindness, your endless generosity, your determination, your integrity overwhelm me. To this day. Every second of the day. And I can’t imagine not having you brightening my day with everything you and Maddox bring to my life. And Victoria, I guess.”
He thumbed at the ring, spinning it where it sat, snagging irritatingly at the soft insides of Cloud’s fingers. “You’re it for me,” Squall promised, punctuating the vow with a low laugh, and there was a brief flutter in Cloud’s stomach for that moment of veracity. “You and your magnificent ass.” And the moment was lost as sure as his son in a ball pit.
Cloud had approximately half a second to seethe before the overly-invested woman’s friend blurted out, “You’re not gonna say no, are you?”
He rolled his eyes as he whipped around to face her, pulling the fine chain around his neck to display the aqua-colored Paraiba tourmaline engagement ring that had heretofore been hidden away within his shirt. “I’ve said yes already,” he assured her sharply. “I’ve said yes twenty four times this month. He asks me every day. Every day! Since we’ve been engaged! He won’t quit it! I’m honestly lucky, because if his daughter’s with us, she just starts wailing, ‘Please don’t break my daddy’s heart!’ at the top of her lungs while my son waves his fists around and stomps his fat little feet in a happy dance, and then I look like the only miserable prick who doesn’t want to go along with it. Oh, also? We live together already.”
The woman’s hands flew to her cheeks, pressing her palms to them, distorting her lipstick-stained mouth as she wailed louder, “Then say yes and kiss him!”
Cloud gave a short grunt of displeasure preceding a messy, spiteful onslaught of a kiss, bolstered by the fling of his arms around Squall’s shoulders, who could only laugh in triumph at the deliverance of it. “I’m going to leave you at a mall,” Cloud whispers against his lips.
“Just don’t leave me at the altar,” he rejoins, with a click of his tongue and an insufferable wink.
