Disclaimer: Not mine, at all, never will be mine. I think I'm getting over it. Much thanks to my current therapist . Also the song is sung by 'Big Gay Al', and I have no idea who is really behind it. Aah.. Ignorance is bliss... until I'm sued for it 0.- Oh, right. Kodak (sp) camera's belong to Kodak.

Warnings: OOC-ness. See? I mean for it to happen, so . . . can't get mad! nyaa! . POV shifts between Seifer and Squall, but it should be fairly obvious, for those of us that are downright 'specially abled' =P Also amateur lap dancing and drinking. Whee 0.-

===D C===


I love clubs. They have everything you need: booze, single persons, dancing, all the trappings needed for one hell of a good time. All of the above things are reason enough for me to say that I was honestly not expecting to find Squall here. I was even less expecting to find him on his way to becoming drunk off his ass. In a gay club, none the less. Seeing as to how none of my regular consorts are here tonight, I decide to find out what the fuck Squall thinks he's doing here. I push my way through sweaty bodies dancing to the pulsating music, heading for the bar. A couple of the men, one of them in a mini-skirt, tries to grope me as I squeeze past, but one quick glare and I'm quickly left alone. Finally I reach my destination and drop into the tall, empty bar stool next to Squall, who happens to be sneering at his drink. I raise an eyebrow and tap him none too lightly on the shoulder. He transfers his sneer from the drink to my face. "Yeah, nice to see you too, Leonhart. What the fuck are you doing here?"

His gaze drops back to his amber drink, and focuses on the tropical umbrella on the side. "I," he declares firmly, "am here to get absolutely and completely shit faced." And so saying he tips back the glass and empties the contents down his throat. He gestures to the bartender, a feminine man in a skirt and a heavily made up face, and then slams the glass back down on the table. "You?"

I smirk. "Actually, I came looking for some action. Didn't know you sported the rainbow flag."

He throws me an overly suspicious look. "I'm not gay."

I hold up my hands in mock surrender. "No one said you were." He nods and, turning to the patient bartender, orders another martini. I stare at him, wondering briefly if he has any idea that he happens to be in a gay bar, before placing my own order for a scotch on the rocks. As the man goes off to fill our orders I lean towards Squall. "So, what do you think of that bartender?"

He shrugs. "She's pretty enough."

Ah, for once my powerful and penetrating mind has come to the right assumption. I ignore my earlier plans of finding a good lay. Torturing a drunk Squall just seems to be that much more fun. The bartender hands us our drinks, and I sip mine slowly while trying to figure out exactly how this can be used to my advantage. Squall downs his drink as quickly as the last one, and places an order for a Tequila Sunrise. Midway through my drink, the karaoke section of the night begins. Normally I hate these nights, but . . . . I glance at Squall, the idiot halfway through his second tequila. This could be . . . enjoyable. A slow smirk settles across my features.


Somewhere during the middle of my third (or is it fourth?) drink, I happen to glance over and catch the look on Seifer's face. The Smirk. The one that means bad news, the one that means I should be running for my life, is settled right there for the world to see. I consider moving. . . . hell with it. I down the rest of my drink, and order another. I can move later. I look back at Seifer. Hyne, why does he have to be so handsome? Why does he have to be so here? Why do I have to be so gay? I sigh, and go to take a drink from the new glass the pretty lady behind the bar handed me. With a slight amount of shock I realize the glass is empty. I glare around, trying to find the bastard who would dare to steal my drink. The fucker's probably long gone now. I raise my glass for a new one, but the barkeep shakes her head. "You've had enough, pal." Strange, she has an incredibly manly voice. I shake off the thought while sending her my best glare. I think that this would be a lot easier if she would stop moving around . . . why are there two of her?

Suddenly Seifer speaks up, his voice quite a few shades deeper than the ladies. "Don't worry about it Kelly, I've got him tonight." She gives him the hairy eyeball before shrugging and giving me another drink. Oh sweet, blessed alcohol. I down this glass as soon as it hits the counter. Hn, I'll show that bitch to dump me in front of the entire Garden. I blink in confusion. Who dumped me? . . . Like it matters. I look down to see a row of shots lined in front of me. I smile at this most welcome gift of Hyne and reach for the first in the line of what appears to be fifteen (if they would stop moving around!) but my reach is halted by a hand. A hand that is connected to a gray coat.

A gray coat that is connected to Seifer.

"Seifer," I can't help but growl out his name.

He chuckles. "You can have them in a minute. I want to make a bet with you."

I eye the little glasses. "A bet . . .?

He nods. "Yeah. Here's the thing: If you can down all these shots without running to the bathroom and heaving your guts up, I'll personally supply you with that new model gunblade you've been wanting."

I frown. That gunblade costs . . . I forget how much, but I know it's a lot."And if I lose?"

He smirks. "You get to sing karaoke to a song of my choosing."

I sneer at him, then at the shots. All I have to do is down these, and I win. Plus I get a gunblade- and all this whiskey! "Fine." He makes me shake on it, and then releases me. I grab the first glass and down it, and then a second and third. Hn, I'll show him how to win a bet . . .



I wait outside the grungy stall, my jacket folded over my arms, as I wait for Squall to finish heaving up his guts. It was a sucker's bet, really. There was no way that any normal person could have consumed that alcohol and not suffered the consequences, especially a person not used to whiskey.. Personally, I'm just glad that Squall didn't decide to pass out on me. I can see myself now, carrying his ass back to the Garden. Quistis would most likely shit herself at the sight - would almost make it worth it, really.

I step lightly aside as the door flies open, and catch Squall as he falls foreward. His eyes squeeze shut and he grabs his head with his free hands. "Seifer," he manages, "I think I'm going to fucking die."

I sneer at him. "Like hell you are, now suck it up like a good boy." And with that I release him, ignoring his yelp as he plops onto the tiled floor. He doesn't move, and I sigh at the pathetic sight. I take a surreptitious look around before casting curaga on him. The blue light surrounds his body before slamming into him and working its magic. Yes, curaga cures all, including alcohol induced head slammers. Go figure. He gasps in shock as his senses are restored to him, and quickly stands. To my great unsurprise, he doesn't look too entirely happy to see me. But like the true SeeD he is, he manages to take in his full surroundings before rounding on me.

"Where the hell am I?"

I shrug. "Local club." He glares at me as if it's all my fault for his current situation. "Don't be blaming me, idiot, you brought your self here. Not my fault you got wasted. Or, how did you put it, 'shit faced'?"

He goes a shade paler. "I said that?" I nod at him. He frowns slightly. "What else did I do?"

"You agreed to sing a karaoke song of my choosing."

He snorts derisively. "You're so full of shit, Almasy."

I shrug my left shoulder. "You're the one that agreed to the bet. Not my fault you can't hold your damned liquor."

He studies my face, and then gives one of his mental sighs. "You're not lying." I shake my head. "Wonderful. How far are we from Garden?"

"Eh, far enough that no one here should recognize you."

He stares at me coolly. "Don't suppose I can have a drink beforehand?" I shake my head again, and he sighs. "Probably for the best. Let's just get this over with then. What song?" He doesn't wait for an answer as he turns and walks out of the dingy room, so I answer on the go. When he hears my selection, though, he stops as if by a brick wall, barely five feet into the club. Then he turns on me, cold fury in his eyes. "Seifer," he says, the name 'ice prince' clearly revealing its source, "I refuse to sing that song."

I smirk at him. "Well, you could, but then I would have to find a replacement for your side of the wager. So, would you rather sing? Or would you rather fuck me?" I waggle my eyebrows at him. He stares, shocked, but then closes his mouth and stalks off towards the stage. I quickly move to secure a position at one of the front tables, in order to view Squall better. With a small grin, I finger the camera inside of my coat pockets, thankful that I forgot to put it away after my last mission. This will truly be one of those fabled Kodak moments.



Seifer must die. Pure and simple. And, after I fulfil my obligation of singing this stupid song, I'm going to kill him, preferably slowly. I stand on the stage, blinking against the glare of the lights shining into my eyes. The only good thing about the lights is they block out everything from the first table on. The bad thing about the lights is that they show the first table. Including Seifer. I take a deep breath as he waves a disposable camera at me and make up my mind to jump off the stage and throttle him with the microphone cord. Unfortunately, just as I move foreward to do so, the stage director calls to me from the side lines in a loud stage whisper. "Are you ready, hon?" I blink. Did that two hundred and thirty pound man just call me hon? I look in his direction, and my eyes widen when I see his expertly applied make up. And over the noise I hear the whirr and click of a camera. I turn back to Seifer, my mouth hanging open slightly, and my eye starts to twitch as I see him waving the camera at me. And then the music intro starts.

"What you are to do, is bend over and walk this way."

"Like this?""

"NO, fool, back that ass up"

"Oh, like this?"

"No, like this!"


"You're so silly . . ."


At first I'm surprised, and some quick thinking is required. But then I realize, if Seifer wants a show, I might as well give him a show.

"I said I love the way your ass shakes, it's crazy; like to toss a salad gaily, it's tasty" I hop down off the stage and saunter towards Seifer, who has his eyebrows raised with a wide grin on his face. I walk up to him and touch him lightly on the shoulder.

"I love it when we're maxin', relaxing; you ask me if I'm super thanks for asking" I flip him a wave, and then look into his eyes. "But you know I'm a diva, like Xena; you say hey Senorita, nice to meet ya" Then I swing my legs over his and settle down into his lap. His eyes just about pop. I lean my mouth close to his ear and sing "Bend over like a doggy, here comes the loggy- we can do it like a monkey, or a froggy." Then while still singing in his ear I trail my hand down across his chest, reveling in the warmth I can feel under his shirt, then over his stomach and lower. Cupping him lightly, I sing the words "You can play with my Sony, grab my pony" I squeeze lightly. " I don't like blowup dolls 'cause they too phony." I pull away from his ear and smirk at him. "You like it from the back side? The rough ride? Well dip-dip-dip dive!"

I crawl off Seifer and walk back to the stage, singing the chorus. Then I jump up onto the stage to wild applause and throw off my shirt, which earns me a few whistles. I sneer at the crowd. "I love to be nude with the Village People, I watched Mel Gibsons butt in the movie lethal" I then spank the air, feeling a strange urge just to let go. The camera is clicking and whirring like mad. "Jumpin' your ass like I'm doin' stunts Knievel, shagadellic like Austin Powers 'n' Dr. Evil."

I walk over to the pretty man who is playing the keyboard and grab him by the chin. "Your ass is demanding, I'm your gay bandit; but Chad, you're butt's so hairy- I can't stand it!" Turning away from him I sing the rest of the verse. "The big airplane strip has just landed, so spread your butt cheeks so I can 'can' it"

I hop off the stage again and wander through the crowd, looking some people straight in the eye, touching some of the others, and they all smile back at me. "Boy you look good, need to back that ass up, you're a big strong man, back that ass up!" I walk past Seifer again, and trail my fingers over his head. "Call my big Daddy when you back that ass up. Fool, who is you playing with? Back that ass up! Boy you look good, need to back that ass up. You're a big strong man, back that ass up!"

I then lean against the front of the stage and run a finger from my neck to the top of my pants, where I loop my thumb as I sing the last of the song. "I know you can stand it, Gay Bandit. Hoppin' around the big Carrot like a rabbit. Looking for a big man, a thick man, send it deep inside like quicksand. Lookin' for a big stick, I love a summer stick. Back that ass up fast, but not quick."

I turn my back to the crowd, waiting for the music to fade away. Then I turn back and add a last "back that ass up!" Seifer's is not the only camera going off among the applause.

I toss the mic back up on the stage, ignoring the high pitched whine, and turn back to the bar, fully intending to drink away the past few minutes. I groan as I'm followed by a good twenty she-males. Yes, very drunk. -----------------------------------------


I stare down at the table, slightly bemused. That was more than I could ever have hoped for. I sigh as I realize it will probably never happen again. I stand up, laughing to myself as I witness Squall's unwanted entourage, and slip the camera into my pocket. . . . The camera! I take it back out, and look at it, thinking. I bet Squall would give me private lap dances if I threatened to go public with these pictures. Hn, worth a shot. I'll have to ask later. But for now, I wrap my trenchcoat around myself and head for the bathroom, fully intending to appease my aroused state.


Notes from B.S.: Okay, this is meant to be a silly little fic, not a grand piece of literature. So keep this in mind if you decide to review, please? And yes I mean for them to be kind of OOC, yes I know absolutely nothing about alcohol/lap dancing, and yes, I'm aware that Squall and Seifer are 'not gay, henceforth they wouldn't be seen in a gay bar'. (laugh) I also don't care, so feel free to mention it anyways :D Thanks for reading.

Explanation: Okay, before I get all the WTF reviews, I figure I should mention a little background. My sister and I have been listening to this stupid song (Back That Ass Up, sung wonderfully by Big Gay Al .) over and over, at least forty times this past week, if not more. We started talking about gay bars, and from there my mind wandered to the image of Squall singing in a Gay bar, and how it would come to happen . . . . Thus, this fic -.-;