Archive of Our Own ^beta

There is a strange, yet familiar sense of resignation that comes with knowing everything is going to end soon. His body is failing, and so is his mind. He’s no stranger to Sephiroth’s memories or the way his mind has made a faithful replica, his own very personal hell. The sun is too many shades dimmer than what Cloud remembers, but still, the heat persists. There’s but a small hint of wind on top of the crevasse which separates the plains from Midgar Edge; it’s a small heaven, but a dry and forgotten one. A grey skeleton of a city is slowly forming just a few miles from the old Midgar, now an open-sky dump where scrappers go to find anything reusable. No more above-plate or below-plate differences, only a big community thriving to build again, to let the past be in the past. It’s ironic, then, that the Geostigma has taken foot and plagues the people. Dozens die every week, and Cloud knows he’ll be part of the count one day, just like Denzel will be. The sole idea clutches and turns his stomach into knots, muscles its way into his bowels and twists hard. His throat is dry, his lips parched, the fight with Kadaj’s brothers has taken more than what Clouds likes to admit.

A thick blanket of clouds courses through the sky, obscuring any hint of blue. Aerith would be happy on a day like this.

Cloud, too.

And yet, his mind cannot stop from supplying him with a clear picture of him . If he closes his eyes and focuses, he can still hear him , strong and confident with a soft smile on his face. Cloud curses himself for the way he’s always zeroed into bright-cerulean blue eyes, the way the light would sometimes hide the inner iris tainted by the telltale green glow of mako. The same eyes he sees now when he looks at himself in the mirror - it’s not the same, but it’s enough to startle him when he least expects it. No wonder he’d forgotten. No wonder he thought those memories were only of himself. He’d wake up and see the same eyes. How could he forget? He knows how. It doesn’t make it any easier to forgive himself.

“So, you wanna be in SOLDIER? Hang in there.”

The memory finds its way like snake fangs inside him. When it bites, the sting makes Cloud avert his eyes. Something burns in the back of his eyes, but he keeps it at bay, keeps it under control. He lowers his head and the quiet he’s been holding onto is broken by his own tired voice.

“‘I will live for you as well’,” he whispers to the old Buster Sword standing in front of him, now stuck deep enough into the ground that no wind current can move it. Time hasn’t been kind to it, because Cloud hasn’t either; use marks, cracks, and a lot of rust have made the metal plates their home. A pang of guilt still clings when he looks at it, part of him still thinks he should’ve held onto it, should’ve kept it from ruin and erosion. Part of him is right, the same amount that the other one is; the part that has decided, against Cloud’s obvious tendency to hold on tight to his past, to leave it all behind and live his life, to honour the promise he’s made long ago.

“You know, that’s what I decided,” he hums, “Back then, I swore I’d never forget.”

It’s stupid, he knows it. It’s so stupid, and pathetic, to come back here for guidance, to ignore the parts of his life that are alive and will not hesitate to tell him how much of a hardass he’s being. It makes him mad with anxiety and frustration, the way his life circles back to this very spot, to this very place. He’s made a promise he intended to keep, and then everything else has tried to make him break it.

Cloud doesn’t dwell on himself too much. He’s found out it’s risky to delve deeper into the amalgam of sensations and ideas, the reasons why he does what he does, the way he does. The gods know he’s tried to reach out and failed miserably, not when he’s so detached from it all: his life, his job, his family. It’s something he can never let go of, the sensation of a chasm all around him - it isolates him, it prevents him from reaching out. It’s a rift he cannot stop from deepening. He’s tried, but it’s no use. His own worst enemy doesn’t reside anywhere but on his shoulders, deep into his brain, it holds his own name and his own face hostage, and Cloud still doesn’t know how to let go of it, to get rid of himself without getting rid of himself. Not when it’s kept Cloud alive for so long. Alive and, even though barely, functioning.

Now, the literal chasm in front of him is an open invitation he forces himself to ignore. First and foremost, because it wouldn’t do the trick. But more importantly, because Cloud doesn’t really want it to. Part of him used to look upon the precipice and wonder what it’d be like, just to jump , to let go and forget about it all. But he would come back, a punch in the gut, and Cloud would be left torn and distraught between two immovable pulls.

Whatever semblance of quiet he has, it’s only external. Inside, there’s a hurricane he can never really quell.

That’s how Sephiroth’s memory gets him every time. Voice warm and brimming with a patronising and mellow tone. A puppet. Cloud clutches the side of his head as the episode runs its course, worsened times more by the Geostigma clutching at his flesh. The flashbacks come rushing like tidal waves, lapping at the shreds and remnants of Cloud’s hold on reality, as he’s dragged deeper into the memories. It’s a jumble of sensations, really, rather than a vivid image. He’s standing in the cold water, holding a body that shouldn’t surrender so quietly and willingly to gravity, a body that should be warm and alive and chirping with joy. It’s wrong, but it also feels right, because Cloud knows the familiar stab of guilt and anger that fills him, that makes him crouch down and crumple up on himself. He knows the way his lungs fill with air and then it’s not enough, never enough, as he chokes and gasps. He knows intimately the hard and cold ground he lays on, the speckles of dust raised as he thrashes and fights for control.

Please make it stop , his mind supplies. He doesn’t want this anymore. He’s tired of fighting his own damned head for something as laughable as peace and quiet. It’s a bone-deep truth that accompanies it through every little thing in his daily routine, the same way Denzel would stick around him after the first week Cloud brought him back to Tifa’s. It accompanies him as he steps away from the burial site, onto the steps of Rufus Shinra’s appointed location for a meet-up, and then further into the bustling city of Edge as people shout and scream and Cloud has to pretend to forget he’s not dying, that he can be the hero everyone thinks they need, that he can push through some more, just a bit more, the same way he pushes through to get Kadaj despite Loz and Yazoo’s persistence. It’s almost like the old days when his body didn’t betray him when he most needed it. He almost fools himself into thinking he could go through it all once more, just one more time, fight Sephiroth like he still didn’t know what had happened to him, or to the cerulean blues and the warm voice encouraging him to keep fighting.

You did it once, you can do it again.

That’s right, Cloud distantly thinks. If he were still his old mako-addled self, he’d think it too, that he could do anything, that he’d been through worse, a whole ShinRa battalion deployed just for Cloud, because of Cloud’s sole existence. SOLDIERs First Class warrant that kind of precautions, after all. It’s a shock, then, when he hears him again, laughing at how desperate Cloud is to hold still a bit more, to keep his eyes closed with stubborn resolution. He’s played the game, done his part, he can rest in peace now, lulled by the water and held by familiar hands, warm hands. If this is the Lifestream, Cloud doesn’t want to go back.

Too bad, she’s saying there’s no place for you here.

Cloud wants to scream, don’t you dare take this away from me , not after everything he’s done. Life isn’t the gift Aerith thinks it is. It’s a punishment, a painful and stark reminder of all his failures. He knows he’s said he’d try, he’s asked Vincent if sins can be forgiven, but they both know it’s not that easy. Tifa forgave him, everyone did, they moved on and Cloud... Well, Cloud didn’t. Resolution can only take him so far.

Let me stay , his mind whispers, coarse and pleading, I want to stay with you.

Guilt gnaws at him, at the heart he’s just let out. Openness is raw and unwelcome, but desperation begs for desperate measures. He doesn’t want to leave, he wants to be with them, to be with him . But it’s too late, and when Cloud comes to, the hands on his body are tiny and still full of baby fat, where the joints still have room to grow and develop together with the bone.

The kids look at him with expectant eyes, and Cloud forgets why he was so raw and jagged inside in the first place. Seeing Denzel smile for the first time in months cracks the emptiness that’s been seared into Cloud’s soul, just for a little while, the right amount for him to forget the blur of images behind his eyelids. The cheers fill his ears and Cloud pretends he’s okay, like he’s not watching two silhouettes walk away from him like they’re abandoning him all over again. Why they’re more important than the ones alive and well, here with him, cheering and enjoying the sheer sense of victory when the Geostigma is released from the bodies of those they hold dear, Cloud doesn’t know.

It takes him but under a week to disappear again.

All but a short, innocuous week for Cloud to become fed up and overwhelmed. He doesn’t think there’s anything specifically wrong with how his life is turning out to be; the deliveries are stable, his income allows him to care for Denzel and Marlene together with Tifa, the Geostigma has been slowly eradicated from people’s skin and flesh and bones. So why does he feel so weak and empty? He should be happy, he should be grateful even, for his umpteenth chance at life, at peace. He should .

He isn’t.

The church is quiet as Cloud travels towards the pool with unsure footing. Something dark and ugly gnaws at his insides, something that reeks of ungratefulness and bitterness. The wolf head on his pauldron is heavy with a long-lost purpose, but Cloud holds onto it nonetheless as he drops into the water and stares at his own reflection. The flowerbed has always been one of the few places where Cloud found some peace of mind, the same way riding Fenrir gave him time and quiet, away from his head, away from the world. Now, however, scattered lily petals stare back at him as he realises, there won’t be another time he gets to fall asleep to their scent and their colour. The water is crystal clear, but it’s not the same. He knows it was willed here by Aerith, yet he can’t help but slump his shoulders as bitterness seeps through and reminds him; if Kadaj was dealt with sooner than later, this wouldn’t have happened.

Fenrir sits parked just outside and Cloud’s hostlers are void of any of his weapons. The fusion sword sits inside his bike’s compartments. The absence of weight on his back is letting itself known in more ways than one. Cloud takes a step further into the water, where it’s deep enough that it laps at his waist and soaks his middle section through the fabric. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, wills the prickles behind his eyes away and sinks into the water. He lets his body drift and realign itself, in the middle of the pool. The water is cool around him. Cloud winces at the thought because even the faintest reminder of Aerith’s cold body in his hands is a bite at his heart that chews and wrings the memories out. He’s always made sure to keep away from the dark parts of him that are made just to revel in the pits of desperation. He’s never submerged himself into them, up until now; today, he lets them take him wherever they need him to be.

Aerith comes to him in waves, she’s not unwelcome but she is painful to remember. Cloud thinks it’s only fair that he remembers her, lest she becomes something ingrained in Cloud’s being, as he had.

He knows it’s stupid, knows it’s a long shot.

He tries it anyway.

The memories feel heavy enough to make him believe he’s drowning, even though water laps at his sides and the sounds are muffled out when his head sinks just enough that his ears are filled with it. The church is quiet, and Cloud allows his body to rest. He knows it won’t last, but his bones are heavy and the water is nice, the water makes him so light.

He wants to reach out, because he knows, beneath him, at the bottom of the pool, Aerith’s body hasn’t been given the same kindness. He wants to bring the water where he has died and give the ground something other than blood to quench its thirst. He wants to bring the same lilies there, and give both of them at least some form of closure.

He doesn’t notice the sound of steps until they’re closer. He doesn’t dare to open his eyes as something dips into the water. The waves disturb his stillness, but Cloud barely breathes and stills as a deep chuckle fills his ears. More water splashing, and then a shadow clouds his vision, hiding the sun from Cloud’s freckles. He notices barely, only because his eyelids are not red anymore, and the sun isn’t heating his skin anymore.

“What are you doing there?” comes from right above him.

Cloud bites back a sob. His face screws up and something escapes him, it’s feeble and makes him shiver with an old heartache. It’s an acquaintance he’s gotten to know for the past two years, after he’s gotten his memories back. It’s something that never really left, and Cloud doesn’t want it to. It’s the only thing that keeps him afloat these days.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” he whispers back, keeping his eyes closed. “Hi.”

Zack , wonderful and sunny Zack, snorts. “So you take a bath instead?” he teases, but there’s no bite to it. “Hi, sunshine.” 

Cloud wants to open his eyes and reach out, but he knows better. Every time he turns around, they disappear. He can’t look, he can only savour this so long he doesn’t get greedy. “Where’s Aerith?” he asks. He doesn’t mind that it’s only Zack here, the gods know he’s the only one Cloud can never truly forget and abandon.

A sigh. “Cloud, whatever you think it’s happening, I promise you, it’s not.”

Cloud frowns at that. What does Zack even mean?

A hand touches his forehead, gentle calloused fingers pry a stray lock away from it and a feather-light touch runs along his temple. “Open your eyes, Spike.”

“ No. ” It’s a knee-jerk reaction. Zack can’t take this away from him. No one can. 

It’s quiet for a little while, the finger on his temple stops for a brief moment, and then it goes back to stroking mindless circles around his temple. “Alright, then, keep ‘em closed.”

Cloud nods briefly, too busy taking in everything he can. If he can’t look at Zack, he’ll sure as hell imprint everything else. Zack’s voice, the way it still carries the same easy-going rhythm and tone, the way his callouses don’t sink into his skin but only scrape it a bit. It’s such a familiar sensation, it reminds Cloud of darker nights spent with no lit fire, of something—- no, someone pressed tight against his back, holding him close and safe, of the heavy scent of sweat and skin and simply Zack. The way Cloud’s body reacts is too much and altogether too little all the same. He hasn’t craved for touch like this in years, and yet, here he is, trying his damn best not to lean into it. If Zack disappears because he lets his desires get the best of him, Cloud is never going to forgive himself.

Zack must notice something because he sighs and leans in for a fuller touch. Now, his whole hand is pressed against the frame of Cloud’s head, caressing away some stray locks and dipping his fingers under the water to reach his scalp. “Stubborn Chocobo,” comes from above him, and Cloud scoffs.

“Let me have this,” he pleads, and he really hates the way his voice sounds, “I can’t-”

“Hush, it’s alright. Sooner or later you’ll have to open your eyes. You can’t stay here forever.”

That sounds dangerously close to a challenge. Cloud can do challenges. He can and he will if he has to. “I don’t want to go, Zack,” he whispers, it’s weak and oh so cowardly, Cloud wants to shrink back into himself. He’s never admitted it to anyone else other than the back of his mind. “Without Aerith- without you—-”

“You have to, though, you can’t just up and leave. I know it’s not you, and you know that too. I’m not going anywhere.”

Cloud wants to laugh at that. “Yeah, you’re right.” Of course Zack is right. Still, he doesn’t comment on the obvious lie. It’s not like Zack to do something like this, but the occasion is more unique than rare, so Cloud won’t turn his back on it. If Zack really wants to indulge in this little helpless wish of his, then Cloud won’t argue.

“I miss you,” he says quietly, voice low and raspy. It doesn’t come out as sure and grounded as he’d like it to be. He hates the way his voice betrays him, the tremble of his body, the deep cut that seeps bitterness and longing. It’s a tear that snapped long ago, and Cloud still hasn’t been able to mend it.

“Me too, sunshine,” Zack replies, quick and warm, a sting of pain in his voice. “I’m sorry I left you alone.”

“You haven’t.” Cloud is quick, but he knows his heart doesn’t think the same. There were a few moments, when he was in darker places than this one, where he’d screamed at an empty wasteland. Why hadn’t Zack waited? Why didn’t he wait for Cloud to recover a little bit? Why had he shouldered all of the trek back to Midgar on his own? Why hadn’t Cloud been awake by the time they made it to Midgar? Why hadn’t Cloud recovered faster? Why wasn’t Cloud there with Zack?

“Stop that.” Zack’s voice drips with something bitter and something sad.

But Cloud doesn’t know how to keep himself inside his own head anymore. It’s like he’s been bleeding out on the floor, and the words don’t need his permission to escape him anymore. “I forgot about you. You did so much for me. There's nothing I can ever do to repay you. And I almost gave up, Zack, I almost gave it all up . I almost fucked it all up, and for what? I made you a promise I never kept—-”

Two hands come around him and Cloud is suddenly brought up, standing, as strong hands cross over his shoulders and squeeze him against a warm, so warm , body. Shock keeps him from reacting. It’s so much, altogether, so much and too little altogether. Cloud almost can’t take it. Zack is warm against him, it’s so real, Cloud wants to cry. How can he have this? How can Zack give him this, after everything that he’s already given him, to come to him from the Lifestream just to cuddle and coddle his doubts away? When will Cloud’s efforts be enough —

" Cloud ,” Cloud can never get tired of the way Zack says his name, even if this time it’s so painful and breathless there’s guilt clawing at Cloud’s insides. He’d forgotten how beautiful it sounds, how perfect and full and complete it makes Cloud, even as it tears every wall down and leaves him gasping for air. “You've got nothing - nothing - to be sorry for. You did so much, I put so much on your shoulders, and you held out for me. If anything , I should be apologising. You should’ve never gone through everything you did. But you did, and you've been so strong through it all. You have no idea how proud of you I am. I'm so sorry I- I abandoned you. I should've fought to stay— fuck, I should've fought to survive . I was so caught up with honour and dreams and freedom , I never stopped to think and find a way . I'm so sorry Cloud. You did more than enough. Please, please , don't carry this alone anymore. You deserve to rest and take care of yourself. You deserve to be kind to yourself. I'll never let you go like that, I promise. Odin strike me if I ever do it again.”

Cloud’s world is on fire. He’s dripping water but his skin is burning in every spot and nook Zack’s touched it. How can he ever keep himself from leaning in, clinging to Zack’s solid and warm and alive frame?

Alive.

That can’t be it, now, can it?

Tears are now more than needles, they declare it’s their time to run and join the water, paint Cloud’s cheeks with lucid streaks, and so Cloud cries. Fat tears cross over his cheeks as he claws at Zack’s solid body with both of his hands. He waits for the illusion to shatter, for Zack to disappear in a gust of wind and leave him there, breathless and on the verge of the chasm. But Zack stays, muscles tensing and arms wrapped tightly around Cloud’s midsection, holding him and keeping him there, bodies pressed so impossibly tight.

His mind is in shambles, too scattered to make any sense of it all. He can’t possibly hope, he can’t let himself fight through the tears and make sure, allow himself this one impossibly tiny dream.

“I’m here, Cloud,” Zack coos, voice deep and soothing, but not even him can hide the sharp pang of pain. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Cloud chokes back another sob. The world is a blur, but he can already make out the signature spikes of Zack’s raven-black hair in his vision, it’s almost all that he can see, other than the rest of the church, a shoulder, and the obvious outline of Zack’s jaw and neck. The smell, gods, Zack smells of fresh earth, alive earth, nothing like the cracked, dry desert around Midgar, it’s the smell of petrichor after a spring rain, the moment the mountains colour with wild flowers and Cloud would allow himself to walk without shoes just to feel the soft ground under his skin. There’s a faint note of lilies, the same smell Cloud has come to miss whenever he goes back to Edge to sleep in his own room. The box and the lantern have been long forgotten after Kadaj’s destruction, but Cloud always yearns to sleep close to the lilies, it calms him, it feeds the longing for a time he misses more than ever.

And Zack, rocking him with steady moves, is still there.

Alive.

That could be it, right?

“Zack...?” Cloud rasps out, weak and raw from all the crying. He’s gross, but he’s kindly thrown dignity out of the window the second he laid himself into the water.

“Yeah, sunshine?” comes right away from just over his shoulder. The rocking motions stop, and Zack’s face is now shuffling closer, turning just so he can better see Cloud’s face. That’s when Cloud catches his eyes, impossibly blue and with the same cerulean halo around their irises. Mako eyes he could get lost in times and times over.

The notion doesn’t seem too far-fetched now.

It comes crashing down like the weight of the world on his shoulder. Cloud can’t help the trembling hands that come up to cup Zack’s face as his face screws up, soon mirrored by Zack’s, as he traces with the utmost care the outline of Zack’s jaw, the scar, the outline of his hair.

“How,” Cloud lets out, breathy and raw. How is it possible? It’s Zack, and this time, this Zack, he can touch, he can reach out for, he can hold. How is it possible? How can it be? Are they on a timer? Is the Planet going to take him away again? That would be too cruel, now, wouldn’t it?

Zack smiles through the hurt, he puts in some serious effort, and Cloud can’t help the new rush of tears that surges within him as Zack smiles bright and closes in, holding his forehead against Cloud’s. “I don’t know,” he says, and Cloud accepts it nonetheless. He wouldn’t care less at this moment. “I remember- hearing you. I wanted to be there for you. Next thing I know, I’m awake in the middle of nowhere on a patch of Aerith’s lilies.”

Cloud isn’t sure he understands. There have been so many times he’s asked for Zack, his guidance, every moment of his life since he’s regained control of his memories, most of his actions were dictated by one single principle: what would Zack do?

“For how long...?”

Zack cocks his head, eyebrow raised. Cloud forgot just how expressive Zack is. It’s so easy to read him, to figure out the question he’s asking. But then again, Cloud hasn’t really finished his sentence as he always does, too caught up in his own whirlwind of thoughts to stay afloat. So he forces himself to remember what he wanted to say.

“How long until- until you have to go back?”

His voice is choked by the end of it. The sole thought of letting Zack go makes his stomach turn with the ugliest sensation, it churns and twists until there’s bile in the back of Cloud’s throat. 

Zack’s eyes sharpen into something decisive and serious, the smile dying on his lips. Now, a thin line takes its place, as Zack mirrors him and coups Cloud’s face. The gesture alone is enough for Cloud to lean in with force, curling and hiding against the palm of Zack’s big hands, eyelids screwed up tight. He inhales the scent, nose close to Zack’s wrist, and moves his hands to cover Zack’s. Well, he can’t, but he can certainly try his damn best to keep them there and let the message come across.

“Listen to me,” Zack says, and Cloud forces himself to look at him through half-lidded eyes. “This isn’t a one-time thing. I will give the Planet the worst stomach ache after Sephiroth and Jenova if she takes me back. Dunno how yet, but I will .”

It’s so specific and so Zack that Cloud can’t help the snort. It’s endearing and it makes Cloud’s heartache in all the right places. It makes his heart beat like it’s alive and kicking again, like there’s yet something worth getting excited about. It’s been at least a decade since he’s been excited over something.

“You’re the reason I’m back. You . Not the Planet, not any threat that needs fighting, not some cruel joke of destiny.”

“I am...” Cloud repeats, but it still leaves him doubtful, a question he doesn’t even know how to ask.

“You, Cloud Strife,” Zack confirms, and Cloud would be mad, blind, and deaf if he doesn’t recognise the way Zack’s face curls in the softest smile, endearing, content. It’s so open and raw that Cloud’s breath hitches, taken aback. Has he imagined it?

He blinks, but Zack is still looking at him like Cloud holds the key to the stars. It’s so much, all of a sudden. Cloud doesn’t know what to do with himself, let alone with the deep blush that creeps up to his ears, forcing him to duck his head a bit. He can’t let go of Zack’s eyes, though. It’s like a magnetic pull, it keeps Cloud’s eyes trained on Zack’s features, mapping every crease and depression, every pore and little imperfection, the way his irises are a haphazard oil painting made with filaments of the deepest sky blue, tainted by mako and some lighter tones.

Cloud doesn’t realise his mouth is agape until Zack thumbs at his lower lip, dragging it a bit to the side, and for the first time in years, Cloud feels it again; a fire that burns from within and makes his body tingle with delight. He doesn’t miss the way Zack’s eyes dart lower, to Cloud’s lips, and then come back up, a question - permission? - clear in them. Cloud stammers before he can even form a word, all too caught up in his own mind to be able to keep up with it all. So he simply nods, inches a bit closer, and then has to remember how to breathe when Zack dips down and presses the softest kiss on his lips.

Both of them are chapped, but Cloud doesn’t mind, electricity is coursing through his vein, making each end of his being receptive to what’s around him, what’s against him. A sharp gasp, and then he’s finally leaning in against Zack, abandoning himself to the gravity of Zack’s warmth, his smell, his touches. He crumbles and is remade anew in Zack’s embrace. Zack is all dry skin and no rush, he moves with the confidence Cloud lacks, he guides the kiss and hums into Cloud’s mouth, satisfied and content. Cloud blossoms up under his touches and ministrations, lips falling further apart and slowly requesting more, more .

Zack obliges. He must, because all of a sudden, Cloud can’t breathe properly as strong arms come down behind the small of his back and hold him in place, making him tremble like a leaf as he holds on for dear life to Zack’s shirt, fists so tight his knuckles lose all colour. Zack’s tongue licks into his mouth after too long, and Cloud sighs at the sensation, his legs officially incapable of keeping him upright. He almost drops down here and there, and Zack is forced to break the kiss to hold him up.

“Upsy-daisy,” comes from above him, as Zack laughs and helps him hold onto his shoulder. “Don’t go collapsing on me, now.”

Cloud wants to retaliate, to lose himself in the deep embarrassment of almost fainting from a simple kiss, but Zack’s laughing - full and vibrant - that he can’t. It’s everything he’s wanted to hear for so long that he doesn’t find it in himself to care.

“Sorry,” he murmurs awkwardly as he wills his legs to listen and do what he wants them to.

“Are you kidding me? Had I known you’d react this way, I would’ve kissed you a long time ago.”

The notion barrels in and easily breaks the foundation of a long-sedimented, fundamental truth that resides within Cloud. Zack has wanted to kiss him at some point in their acquaintance. Zack has wanted him. It’s a punch in the guts, one that would leave him breathless, if only the kiss hadn’t already done just that.

“I need to sit down.”

Zack eyes him curiously, but doesn’t ask. Instead, he helps Cloud walk towards the edge of the pool and sit on the wooden planks. The church is still quiet, but now there’s meaning in the rays of sun that permeate through the broken rooftop. Everything is more colourful, or maybe it’s just Cloud being a helpless sap. 

Sitting down helps, at least. He doesn’t have to think too much about what to do with his body, and now he can simply turn around and look at Zack, take him in - lips pink and a bit more smooth after the kiss, the faintest brush of red on his cheeks as he looks right at Cloud, the perpetual smile that doesn’t yield its place. Zack is happy. Did Cloud make him so?

The notion fills his heart with pride and love.

Oh, he’d forgotten about this feeling. The swell of his heart when he would look at Zack. Lately, the opposite had taken its place, something crushing that would leave no room for anything but agony.

Zack looks away for a brief moment. He looks unsure, but not in the bad sense. When he looks back up, there’s something shy about the way his shoulders deflate a little and he cocks his head. When he talks, it’s quiet and soft. “I know you’re quiet, but uh, gil for your thoughts?”

Cloud falls in love with him all over again. “I...” C’mon, Strife , his head supplies. Speak. “I just, love you.”

The notion leaves him like a ship on its first journey, blessed by a broken bottle on its rear end, and ready to brave the perils of the open sea. Only Zack’s sea is quiet and calm, welcoming and open in the way his face lights up with surprise, as if Cloud hasn’t just fallen in his arms, soft and pliant, just from one simple kiss.

“‘Just’, he says,” Zack repeats, breathless. “Sunshine, have you got any idea what you just said to me?”

At that, Cloud does tear his eyes away, embarrassment burning through his chest. “Yeah.”

Zack makes a pained sound. “Baby, baby , look at me, please. Please .”

It takes Cloud a while, but eventually he does. It takes his whole concentration not to look away again. That, and he’s helped by Zack’s hands cupping his face like he’s the most precious thing in the world. Gods, how Cloud has yearned to feel this way. At least once in his pathetic existence.

Zack looks at him with determination and, when he does speak, he leans in so close that Cloud holds his breath. “I love you too, Cloud.”

Cloud breaks. It would be more correct to say that Cloud was already broken, and Zack’s words filter through the cracks like liquid gold, sealing them shut and solid once more. The more Zack holds him, the more it all seeps through, cementing Cloud’s very existence.

I love you too, Cloud.

His mind loops the words in his head, and Cloud is staring, wide-eyed, at Zack.

I love you too, Cloud.

“I love you too,” Zack repeats, sure, determined, and assertive. His hands squeeze a bit more, and Cloud is pulled back from his stupor.

“I love you too,” Zack says again as he keeps Cloud close and kisses him again like they have all the time in the world.

“I love you too,” Zack chants as Cloud hugs him and finally, finally , settles himself next to him, head lolling on Zack’s shoulder, bodies slotted in a two-piece puzzle only they are meant to complete.

“ Fuck , Cloud, I love you so much,” Zack groans when Cloud straddles Fenrir and dares to wink at him to hop on, losing his mind at the way Zack plasters himself on his back and holds onto Cloud like they’ve done this a hundred times over.

“Cloud, Cloud ,” Zack calls when they stumble inside Cloud’s room, mouths red and swollen by love bites and never ending kisses. He’s removing his clothes, and Cloud doesn’t know where to put his hands when he’s met with broad shoulders and strong arms.

The bar is closed due to the destruction Kadaj and his brothers brought upon Edge, even though the damage is minimal, Cloud remembers clearly Tifa putting the bar on pause in order to help with the city repairs, together with Barrett and the others. It’s gods-sent, honestly, because Cloud doesn’t think he’d be able to keep himself away from Zack further, not to explain his presence to her or Denzel or Marlene. He needs Zack and he’s sure Zack needs him too, if the way he’s holding onto Cloud’s waist is telltale enough.

His mouth waters all too quickly at the sight of a four-pack abdomen, but the thought is just as quickly wrenched out of his mind the second his brain registers the ugly gunshot wounds that constellate Zack’s body, sharp and jagged and badly-healed, the skin is tender under Cloud’s digits. They’re everywhere, on his front and back, yet another proof of ShinRa’s cowardness and ruthlessness. Cloud growls at the sight of them, something dark and twisted and possessive stirring inside of him. It’s the same kind of anger that has powered him through his fight with Avalanche, since the early days, when he was boarding a train bound to Sector 8, buster sword in hand, and Zack’s past to back up his boisterous and reckless incursion above-plate.

As they stumble into Cloud’s room, something hits against his calves and Zack’s push tips him dangerously backwards just enough until they’re both falling on Cloud’s bed. Zack keeps his hands tense, careful not to weigh on Cloud’s body, and something must catch his eye because he’s smiling, a soft chuckle escaping his kiss-swollen lips as he eyes Cloud’s hair. Cloud knows his hair has been ruffled way too many times to be anything but a mess right now and, by the way Zack looks at him, amused and endearing, Cloud must look like a picture-perfect Chocobo. He’d retort not to stare, to shut up, threaten Zack to not say the words. Lucky for Zack, there’s a million reasons why it isn’t important right now, first and foremost because Cloud’s fight has fled the second he’s been able to touch Zack’s skin, quickly replaced by a long-asleep hunger. His own idea of stoicism has quickly crumbled under Zack’s persistent attention, so all Cloud can do now is reach for Zack and pull him closer.

The pressure, the touches, the kisses, the way Cloud is breathing Zack’s own desperate whines, it’s a lot. Cloud still shies away every once in a while, until Zack slows down and asks to look him in the eye, to not hide.

How can Cloud deny him then?

Intimacy hasn’t been something he’s ever longed for. First and foremost because there was never the time, what with Sephiroth and ShinRa and death all around them. Even then, in the few moments of respite he’s gotten, something was always lacking. Be it with Tifa or anyone else. It’s not that he doesn’t love Tifa, or hadn’t loved Aerith, or Vincent, or Barrett, or any of the other friends he’s made along the way. He does. He very much does. All of them have slowly but surely carved a nook in Cloud’s heart, whether he’s liked it or not. Still, there’s a subtle difference between that family and this family. The same way there’s a difference between two siblings and two lovers.

Right now, under Zack’s thoughtful touches, Cloud realises it.

He doesn’t love the others the same way he loves Zack, just as he doesn’t love Zack the same way he does the others. It’s a silent epiphany that washes over him and makes it easier to undress, to shed the pauldron and the complicated custom-made buckles for his fusion sword. It makes it easier to kiss Zack’s worried brows and call his name, silently asking for more of him as they both undress entirely.

Laying back down on his own bed - cot, maybe, is more accurate - as Zack’s wide frame is shadowing his own, it’s... something close to familiar. Cloud knows his repulsion for physical closeness frustratingly and intimately, the increasing awkwardness that assaults him and doesn’t let him go whenever someone reaches out for him and goes for a pat on his shoulder, a hug, anything. This, however, the way Zack hovers on him waiting on a granted permission, is something both new and not quite at the same time. His body doesn’t tense up when Zack lays down on him and their feverish skins touch, not because of the awkwardness anyway. It reminds Cloud of a time he’s lost, the year-long coma he’s been in. It’s not a memory, not quite at least, but it’s the closest thing to it. It’s safe, it’s reassuring, the way Zack makes him feel tucked away from the whole world, protected and hidden somewhere nothing can reach him. There’s a peace he hasn’t felt in a long time, because nowhere has ever been truly safe for him.

Now, though, when Zack gathers his elbows just above his shoulders and holds his head with both his forearms and palms, Cloud is reminded of warmth on his back as strong arms keep him from sliding away against the ground. It’s tactile, rather than visive, and Cloud chokes on his own laboured breaths, wanting more, oh so much more of what Zack is giving him.

“Please,” he keens without even realising it.

Zack hums against his lips, body hot like a furnace. “‘M not gonna last,” he mouths, moving up to kiss all of Cloud’s face - his nose, his eyelashes, his cheekbones. Cloud wants to melt right into it.

“Don’t care,” he manages, but it gets lost as soon as Zack grinds against him, drawing out of him a cry Cloud doesn’t think he is capable of. He opens his legs to adjust himself, allowing Zack a better position to push and roll his hips, hard and steady.

It takes Cloud’s breath away in the sweetest possible way.

“Cloud, fuck .” Zack’s hips stutter, and Cloud can’t do anything but lock his ankles behind the small of his back, keeping him close, pulling him in for another round of open-mouthed kisses. “Wanna do this properly, baby,” he forces again after more grinding, more kisses, more moans. “Gods, I’ve waited so long for this- you have no idea, Cloud.”

“I have.”

It’s a simple answer, but it halts Zack in his tracks, so much that he looks at Cloud through half-lidded eyes and Cloud can’t almost stand the intensity of it all. “Since when?” he asks, simply.

Cloud blushes, hard, and then stammers through the very first words. “I- I think when-” no, he doesn’t think, he knows. “In Junon.” He remembers it so clearly like it’s yesterday. “But I think I’ve always,” a deep breath, “had a crush, since Modeoheim.” He lowers his gaze, even though the sheer amount of flesh and heat it meets doesn’t help calming down the storm in his head. “I fell for you when you asked me to go out and have dinner together.”

Zack makes an offended sound at that, as if Cloud can change the insurmountable amount of insecurities his 16 year-old self harboured. He can’t, but he can be honest about them, acknowledge their existence; he’s had to, in order to overcome them and grow into the man he is today. It’s taken him so much patience. He’s still exhausted from it, sometimes.

“What about you?” he asks then, and it’s the most he’s ever talked to in a long, long time. He doesn’t mind it one bit.

Zack actually thinks about it, and Cloud pretends he’s not aching in the worst possible way for Zack to grind back into him, to ease some of the tension in his aching erection. But he waits, he doesn’t want to rush things, he wants to savour everything they have, now that they truly can have it. “When you showed me around Nibelheim with Tifa,” he says, eventually.

Cloud blinks, surprised. It’s not the longest time, definitely shorter than Cloud’s, but it surprises him. Of all the moments, Cloud wouldn’t have picked that one.

Zack must read the curiosity in his expression, because he grins and brushes the tip of their noses together. “I think I’ve always liked you, duh, or I wouldn’t’ve wanted to hang out. But,” he cocks his head, eyes lingering somewhere over Cloud, “those days were the most fun I’ve had in a long time, and- well, I might’ve tried to woo you by looking cool and all. I didn’t realise it, but I used to do the same with Aerith. Stupid bets, stupider rewards.” A chuckle, and deep blues are back looking at him, boring holes in his soul. “And you were so shy, for some reason. But you came along and- I think I noticed just how much of a caring and loving person you were. Still are. Couldn’t help it, really. And I remember you were scared shitless of removing your helmet, but for some reason you’d still be first in line to deal with monsters and all on the trail. It was- you were something else, Cloud.”

Cloud doesn’t know what to say to that, but for once, he doesn’t allow himself to doubt. He surges up and kisses Zack, gently, barely nipping his lower lip when he draws back into his cushion. He can’t hide the deep blush that’s crept up from his neck, but he can let Zack know that he appreciates this nonetheless. Zack looks at him with lucid eyes and then reaches between them, moving just enough to allow his hand to slide in between the planes of their abdomens. It steals Cloud’s breath away when calloused fingers curl around his length, holding it and pressing it against Zack’s shaft.

Zack pumps them so slowly, it makes Cloud crazy. It’s not enough, especially when Zack presses a finger against his slit and massages the glans and Cloud writhes underneath him. “ Zack,” he calls, rolling his hips even though it won’t help, not one bit.

“Sunshine, please tell me you’ve got lube somewhere,” comes from above him, heavy and rough.

Cloud swallows and tries to make sense of the mess in his head. A full-body shiver runs through him when Zack dips into the curve of his neck, just above his clavicles, and gives an experimental lick. It’s hot, so hot, Cloud’s already sweating. Then, after the tongue comes a bite, and Cloud keens. When Zack sucks, Cloud doesn’t know where the tingling sensation comes from, but it’s toe-curling and he’s melting into it by the time Zack’s finished.

“Cloud?” he asks, and Cloud has to force himself to blink through the haze, remembering what was asked of him just a few seconds ago.

“I think,” does he? He vaguely remembers getting something from the reopening of the new Honeybee Inn in Edge, someone pushing the anonymous bag into his hand. He’s taken it home and checked it after he’d long forgotten he had it. To say he almost dropped it when he noticed a bunch of condoms, dental dams, and a small vial of scented lube would be most accurate. Because he did drop it into a drawer he never opens. Now, the details come back to him with a stark reminder that he’s never done any of this before. Touching himself? Rarely. He does know what an orgasm feels like, but it’s never been anything of a priority. Even now that things are calm, even in the two-year period of respite between Meteorfall and Kadaj’s appearance.

“Hey.”

Zack’s voice brings him back to his bed, and Cloud blinks when he realises he’s been probably thinking for the whole duration of his last sentence. A sad excuse for a sentence, too. “Sorry, it’s- I don’t usually-”

“We don’t have to go all the way if you don’t feel like it, alright?” Zack says, squeezing his shoulder and kissing him right on the corner of his mouth. Cloud sighs into it and inhales his scent once more. He’d get drunk on it, if he could.

“Not what I meant,” he whispers and he closes his eyes, because it’s easier this way. “I’ve got some, don’t know if it’s expired. I’ve never... really tried anything.”

Zack is quiet. He’s so quiet Cloud fears he’s said something wrong for a moment. When he opens his eyes, however, everything is easily brushed off with just a look at Zack’s expression. He looks so concentrated, irises dark with want and mouth agape that struggles on forming a word Cloud can’t really guess.

“Never?” Zack finally settles for.

Cloud shakes his head. “Never,” he repeats, looking away. He shrinks a bit in between his shoulders, he can’t help it. It’s a weird concept, especially because he wasn’t exactly saving himself up for anyone. “It’s never been a priority.”

Zack curses under his breath. “And now?”

Cloud’s face heats up in record time. “Zack,” he says, hopes it’s enough to make Zack drop it. He doesn’t want to talk, he wants to do.

“Cloud, if I’m doing anything that makes you uncomfortable -”

Oh , Cloud thinks as he surges forward to yank Zack against him and kisses him. Of course. How can he even misunderstand Zack? The same person who’s taken so many bullets for him, without even a second thought. The kiss is heated and Cloud moans into Zack’s mouth when Zack grinds against him, hips stuttering against his better judgement. They’re both a poor show of self-restraint, at this point, and Cloud doesn’t mind one bit.

Only after Zack pulls away to catch his breath does Cloud speak. “I’m not uncomfortable,” he says, and he truly hopes his tone is definitive. “I just don’t know what to do to—-” ah, here it goes, feeble confidence. “Just- let’s just do it? Please.” And, with that, he points at the very bottom drawer at the end of the bed. “It’s in a bag with honeycombs on it.”

Whatever Zack’s inquiring look is searching for, he must not find it, brows knitted and eyes thin with suspicion. His expression relaxes into something more understanding. Another kiss follows soon after, right on the tip of Cloud’s nose - and Cloud reserves the right to make an affronted noise at that, because he might be a virgin, but he’s not a child. Zack smiles and with a simple, “Okay,” he’s pushing away to reach for the drawer.

In the short time it takes Zack to find the bag with the lube in it, Cloud becomes pointedly aware of his naked frame; the smooth scar traversing his chest, a few inches too close to his heart and lungs, enough to allow him to survive years ago. He wants to look away, but he really can’t, not when Zack’s kneeling between his spread legs, all defined muscles and sporting the profile of a full erection. Cloud can’t tear his eyes away from it, the way beads of precome hang just over its head and threaten to slide down the shaft, or the taught skin has had to make room for the pulsing vein underneath.Zack is big, bigger than Cloud is, he’s almost intimidating to look at, in his confidence and cocky demeanour, in the way his whole back curves without a care in the world. The curve of his firm ass, too, has Cloud make a mental note to try and just grab it later, once Zack is back.

Zack knows his body looks good, he doesn’t shy away like Cloud. Cloud wants that for himself so bad, in times like this.

Cloud scrambles to find something else to look at when Zack cheers, victorious, and turns around to face him again. However, when Zack doesn’t come back down right away, Cloud is forced to turn around and look him in the eye. He almost immediately regrets it. The vision alone is enough to make his cock ache in the best way possible in anticipation; Zack’s strong thighs are pushing his own just enough to part them and raise them, forcing Cloud to bend his legs and prop his knees up so Zack can settle in the space between. What has Cloud’s breath catch in his throat, however, is higher up; the way Zack is looking at him, hands on his hips and erection boldly hanging in between them, Cloud can only describe it as cocky - and he hates the pun immediately.

“W-what.” It’s awkward, he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, but it doesn’t matter. The damage is done.

“Just admiring the view,” Zack purrs, a blinding smirk curling his lips. Cloud doesn’t think his face can get hotter than this, but apparently he hasn’t taken into account his ears and neck and pecs to join in. The sight alone makes Zack gasp in wonder. “Oh, Cloud , is there any part of you that doesn’t blush?”

Cloud stutters before he can even speak. “ Zack ,” he hisses, hands rushing to hide his face and give him some semblance of safety.

“Alright, alright, but we’re gonna have to work on this,” Zack concedes, finally, finally , laying back down on top of him, slotting himself between Cloud’s legs, “I love looking at you.”

Cloud... makes a sound he definitely didn’t know he could make.

It makes Zack laugh and kiss his knuckles until Cloud parts them and peeks through his fingers. There, he finds bright eyes and an even brighter smile to greet him. “Hi,” Zack greets him, like they haven’t been glued together for half a day. “Can my boyfriend come out and play nice? I really want to see his face.”

Cloud seals his hands again and tries (fails) not to groan into his palms.

“Pretty please?”

It’s a lost battle and the sooner Cloud accepts it, the easier it’ll be to deal with the defeat. He gathers his courage and lets his hands drop. He gets no time to be embarrassed, however, because Zack is kissing him again, sweet and gentle, and Cloud can only sigh into him and relax all over again. The tension washes out of him in waves, until his body feels boneless and well-cemented into the mattress.

“I know you said you wanted to, but if you change your mind, we can stop and do anything else, alright?” Zack murmurs right against his lips. He’s so close, Cloud can’t do anything but nod in response. He doesn’t want to think, because he knows if he does, his mind will drown into another spiral of self-sabotage and poor confidence. So he lets Zack take the lead, scooching over when a hand taps at his hip.

“Just your waist,” Zack instructs, and Cloud obliges, turning only his lower body on his side. It takes a bit of adjusting, but eventually they manage. Like this, Zack has better access, but Cloud lets a while escape him when he pulls away. Zack’s reaction is instant, in a fluid movement, he snaps back on top of him and hushes him. “I need to see what I’m doing, love,” he whispers, and Cloud blushes all over again at the pet name, “keep your eyes on me, alright?”

So Cloud does, now that he does have permission, he makes sure to memorise all the small details, the way Zack’s abs flex and contract when he kneels right under Cloud’s thighs, rubbing mindless circles on them as he works to uncap the lube. With a soft click, the bottle is open and something fresh fills the air, mixing perfectly with the scent of their bodies, of their sweat. It’s a neutral fragrance, and Cloud is glad it’s nothing too sweet, or he might truly get nauseous. Zack coats his middle finger and he’s generous with the amount when some of it drops on Cloud’s hip. It’s cold, but Cloud doesn’t mind.

Zack might have lied, Cloud realises, because when he dips his hand in between Cloud’s cheeks, he’s not looking at all down. Instead, Zack is staring right at Cloud, hungry and magnetic, so much so that Cloud can’t really do anything but keep eye contact. He does so even when a digit rubs against his entrance, massaging the muscles until Cloud is used to the pressure and his body yields to it.

Cloud has never truly experimented with intrusions like this one, but Zack is careful, and Cloud grimaces ever so slightly, eyebrows knitted together. Zack is whispering sweet nothings, encouraging him, praising him, “Gods, Cloud, the things you do for me,” apologising, “Bear with me, sunshine, just a while longer,” and so many compliments. “You look so good like this, Cloud, you have no idea.”

Cloud can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed by the words. Despite the stretch and the discomfort, something else is slowly making its way in between the motions of Zack’s finger. At first Cloud thinks nothing of it, but all it takes is for Zack to sink into him further, reaching deeper into him and leaving Cloud to breathe heavily through it all.

“So good, Cloud, you’re so fucking good.”

Zack’s chanting only helps if Cloud’s not directly following it. His chest is bursting with anticipation, and his body is still adjusting to Zack’s thick finger. He’s not sure how long it takes for Zack to pull back, but when he does, Cloud’s not too fond of the emptiness he leaves behind. However, it’s only a matter of time before Zack’s back, and this time Cloud knows it’s another finger because the stretch is back, and Zack works faster with his wrist as he fucks into Cloud slowly, so thorough it’s maddening. Cloud whines when Zack scissors his fingers, clenching down on his fingers. Zack moans, and Cloud considers it a victory, considering how Zack’s dick is still an angry-red and with even more beads of precome adorning it.

“That’s it, baby,” Zack encourages, “wanna roll your hips? Show me what feels good.”

So Cloud does, when Zack holds his wrist with his free hand and steadies himself. The angle is awkward, and Cloud doesn’t really have much control over the motion, but he slowly fucks himself against Zack’s fingers, sighing into the sensation when he manages to sink them further into him. He gives another experimental roll and then his whole body shivers when Zack scissors his fingers again, changes the angle and hits sparks. The cry that escapes him is a shock to him as it is to Zack, Cloud catches him jumping a bit in his peripheral vision.

“ Zack ,” he can only call, before Zack is doing it again and sending sparks of pleasure throughout his whole body. His whole body shrinks as if it will help Zack reach faster the same result, but Zack uses his free hand to keep him steady and curses under his breath.

By the time Zack has added a third finger, Cloud is a mess, cock leaking and balls tight, right on the edge of an orgasm. He tries to warn Zack, but all that comes out of him is a whine, and then he’s pushing over the edge, and Zack is crouching over him, kissing him with enthusiasm, telling him how good that is, how good he is, fucking him through his orgasm and pumping his cock until it’s almost on the verge of painful.

Cloud’s panting by the time he comes back, even though he’s still floating, he barely registers Zack’s frame as hungry lips are sucking more dark bruises on his neck, on his collarbone, making Cloud sigh. His mind is empty, and he barely registers the sticky mess he’s made on his own covers. He doesn’t mind it, right now he’s content. When he finally manages to move his head again, he goes for Zack’s lips, kissing him and licking and nibbling. It’s placid at first, and Cloud can’t really focus on anything other than Zack’s warmth. It’s only when he realises Zack is now leaning on top of him, holding himself up with both of his arms, that Cloud whines at the emptiness. He tries to wiggle his hips, letting his need be known, but his cheeks catch against Zack’s erection and both he and Zack gasp, frozen in place as he chokes on one of the most obscene sounds Cloud has ever heard. 

Cloud wants to hear it again .

“You’re not backing off, are you?” he asks instead, a pout forming as soon as the question is delivered.

Zack huffs and shakes his head. “No, love,” he pants, and Cloud squints just enough to notice the way Zack’s face looks somewhat constipated... is that embarrassment? “Trying not to come.”

Oh.

Oh.

Cloud eyes in between their bodies, he wants to say something, retort that he’s supposed to be the virgin, not Zack, but he can’t really bring himself to. It’s flattering, knowing Zack’s on the verge only by looking at him come undone.

“Fuck, Cloud, that was so hot,” Zack groans, kissing him senseless once more. “I really want to fuck you, baby, but only if y-”

“ Yes .” It’s so sudden and impromptu, Cloud isn’t even sure he’s said it. He doesn’t regret interrupting Zack, however. It works, because Zack is quiet, and then he’s cursing and balancing himself on one arm so he can align just enough to find Cloud’s hole. Cloud stares as Zack holds himself and teases his entrance with just a few sloppy pushes, always sliding away and catching against his groin. It makes him go crazy, but he can’t deny the fact that he enjoys the way Zack’s face screws up in pleasure when he does it.

Still, Zack doesn’t stop him from speaking again, so Cloud does what Zack suggested: he experiments.

“C’mon, Zack,” he whispers, gathering his leg closer to his chest until Zack’s hooking his arm under his knee. “I want to feel you.”

“ Fuck ,” is all Zack lets out before he’s pushing in, slow and deep, stealing Cloud’s breath away at the intrusion. It’s only the head, but Cloud’s whole body is filled with the splitting sensation of being impossibly full and stretched. Can he even take it? He hopes he can. His mind is addled by the sounds Zack makes, by the way he slowly thrusts into him and makes space for himself, waiting for Cloud to relax and not clench around him anymore. It’s always a struggle to remember it, but Zack’s invites to just breathe help him nonetheless staying focused - as focused as he can be right now anyway.

“ Tight ,” Zack moans, voice rough with effort, he sounds positively wrecked, and Cloud has lost count of the times he’s pushed inside just to slide back away and then drive home once more. “Shit, relax baby, you’re gonna break my dick-”

Cloud puffs like a finch. “ Excuse you,” he starts, but Zack is kissing him again, and Cloud can’t help but whine right against his mouth as he lets out a trembling sigh.

“I’m not even halfway,” Zack explains, and Cloud is both taken aback with shock and hunger. His insides are on fire, and the stretch is already so good, he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to take more of this. Part of him is worried he just won’t, but then that’s not really the Cloud in control right now. To be fair, Cloud doesn’t think he’s got much control of anything right now, still, the other part of him that hasn’t got his wellbeing in mind is definitely reeling at the idea of being overwhelmed even more. All of his thoughts are swiped away when Zack pushes further, however, and Cloud’s forced to loll his head back into the cushion, unable to contain his moans anymore.

It’s painfully slow, but it’s so worth it when Zack finally bottoms out and they both exhale, bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Zack rolls his hips in circles, without really backing away, and Cloud can’t help but bite his own lip at the sensation of it. It’s good, it’s so good that for a moment he thinks he must be hallucinating it again. It can’t be real.

“You feel amazing,” Zack pants above him, white teeth showing just enough when he smiles, and Cloud wants to bite his lips again, pull them apart so he can lick inside his mouth the same way Zack has done before. Still, he focuses on not clenching around him, on breathing, on remembering that he should be relaxing, rather than tensing up and contracting his body. “That’s it, Cloud, oh , that’s so good—- tell me when I can move.”

Cloud nods and takes just enough time to breathe their scent mixing together, it’s new, the smell of sex. He thought he’d be repulsed by it, once, only by the reaction he’s had when entering the Honeybee Inn the very first time. Now, however, he finds himself enamoured by Zack’s smell, his sweat, the way a few droplets slide on his forehead and gather under the tip of his nose. It hasn't been too long when Cloud finally decides to give it a try, rolling his hips with a tentative and limited movement, but the discomfort is completely gone, replaced by the acute sensation of Zack’s length pulsating inside him.

“Okay,” he says, and Zack blinks through the haze in his eyes.

“Okay?” he asks, as if Cloud has forgotten the meaning of the word.

“ Zack, fuck me.”

A shocked gasp comes from above him, and Cloud glares when he finds Zack’s playful face. “Who are you? What have you done to my shy, reserved Chocobo?” The tone is almost incredulous, but Cloud knows Zack’s dick has twitched deep within him.

Cloud is going to deck him. Maybe after they’re finished. Zack will have it coming. Now, however, he wants to try again, find out about what gets Zack going, what makes him keen and what makes him groan with impatience. So he rolls his hips again. “You happened,” he says, and hates the way his voice is mostly a whine as Zack’s dick hits all the right spots inside him, “you’re-” how did Zack manage to say so many nice things to him without getting embarrassed? “You feel amazing too.”

Zack has gone painfully still above him when Cloud manages to pry his eyes open and look at him again. For a moment he wonders if he’s said something wrong, but he’s quickly reassured when he notices the way Zack’s pupils dilate and engulf the blue of his eyes. He wants to ask again, to push Zack to do something, anything, but every thought comes to a brutal halt when Zack draws back and drives home with intent. Cloud’s breath is cut-off in the most delicious way, his body already suffering through overstimulation as Zack growls against his neck. “You’ll drive me crazy,” he hisses, grinding deep inside Cloud, “I was trying- fuck, to not -” whatever he wants to say is lost when he repeats the motion again, and Cloud melts at the sheer power of it, the way Zack’s hips grind and thrust against him; they drag him with them like the sudden high tide that drags everything under without leaving room for breath.

“You won’t,” he reassures, quick and slurring, breathless. Whatever it is Zack is scared of, he knows it won’t happen. Zack won’t let it happen. He trusts Zack with every molecule in his body, it’s an intimate knowledge that has been cemented in his very being since he awoke in Midgar, lost and disoriented, without a name to match his memories. “Please, Zack, please,” he begs, and he doesn’t mind it this time, because he needs Zack. He needs to hear Zack lose himself in Cloud just as much Cloud has lost himself in Zack when they parted on the rocky cliff.

Zack moans, bites back a curse, and then repositions himself so both of his knees are well planted on the bed. Cloud scooches just enough until the under of his thighs are right against Zack’s knee and then stops as both of Zack’s hands come up to his shoulders, dipping into the bed. Cloud has to stretch his leg in order to keep it hooked over Zack’s arm, this way, and Cloud finds the new angle so promising, because Zack leans in to manoeuvre the leg over his shoulder and Cloud keens at how Zack pressing deeper into him, every inch of him. All it takes is Cloud’s moan, a quick look between Cloud’s legs, and Zack is fucking into him like a starved man. Cloud takes it in like a starved man; Zack’s body, tense and flush with exertion, the way his abs flex when he rolls his hips, his arms caging Cloud’s smaller frame, the hint of Cloud’s dick resting between the tangle of limbs, limp and spent. Cloud doesn’t have the guts to reach for himself, to clean the beam of come that’s been leaking and soaking both his navel and the sheets.

Zack pounds into him with desperation, calling Cloud’s name and making the most delicious sounds, making Cloud lose himself between moans and heavy breaths, choked-out growls and so much warmth in his lower abdomen. Zack’s dick hits all the right physical spots, and Zack’s words do the rest with Cloud’s mind and emotions.

Zack thrusts are so hard he has to keep himself steady against the headboard, lest Zack pushes him further away. He doesn’t want to part from Zack. If anything, even the little distance they have to put between their bodies in order for Zack to pound into him is too much to bear, sometimes. He’d move, but as of now, it would be impossible to do so without yanking Zack’s head down with his leg. So he focuses on calling for Zack when the man does something particularly good that rocks Cloud’s world and sends shivers down his spine, curls his toes, makes him cry in pleasure.

It goes on for so long, Cloud doesn’t realise his cock is rock hard again until his balls are tight and heavy with another orgasm, it’s so distant, yet so overwhelming, Cloud can’t tell how long it’ll be until he’s coming. Again .

“Close,” Zack heaves above him, slowing down only to let go go of his leg and properly settle between them. Cloud is quick to hook his ankles on the back of Zack’s waist, arms rushing to grab onto Zack’s hips, blunt nails sinking into the firm curve of Zack’s cheeks.

“Me too,” he manages to say as Zack crouches and cowers him, locking him tight in his arms as his hips stutter more and more, as his movements become frantic and fast and erratic and Cloud’s crying with each thrust that sends him closer and closer to the edge. “ Zack ,” he calls again and again, and Zack latches onto his neck, sucking and biting and nibbling.

When the orgasm hits him, Cloud blacks out for a moment, his ears filled with Zack’s voice and the sweetest, “I’m here baby, I’m so close.” One last push and warmth fills him up, sticky and dense, as Zack comes inside him. Cloud moans, holding onto Zack for dear life, grabbing his face so he can angle it up so he can kiss his swollen lips. Zack doesn’t stop, thought, he stays close, hips pressed forcefully into him as they grind together until Zack softens inside him. Zack’s trembling by the time he’s done, and Cloud has still to let go of his lips. They both sigh with content, slowly coming down from the orgasm’s high. Cloud doesn’t dwell on the way his cheeks are wet and sticky and something warm is dripping right outside him each time Zack rolls his hips again, even if they’re both soft and will be for a long time. It’s the best he’s ever felt in, well, forever.

When Cloud opens his eyes, Zack’s bright blues are on him, piercing and dreamy. They’re everything he’s ever wanted and something more. Zack kisses him gently, just a peck, but his lips drag the motion a bit, and eventually he settles for whispering some more sweet nothing onto Cloud’s mouth.

“I love you,” Zack exhales eventually, eyes tired but happy. He’s smiling, toothless and intimate, like he’s telling Cloud in secret.

Cloud, for the first time in years, finds it in himself to smile back without bitterness. Nothing reserved and curbed by his conscious self. It’s wide and it tugs at his cheeks, making him sharply aware of how tired his face is, or maybe it’s just unused to this specific movement. “Me too,” he replies back, and his heart clenches when Zack beams back and dips down to kiss him.

He wants to say more, but Zack yawns and Cloud remembers he hasn’t bothered to ask Zack anything about how he got back, about why he did. “C’mon,” he urges without really doing much to move Zack away and out of him.

Zack grunts and hides his face against Cloud’s neck again. “I don’t wanna sleep,” he laments.

“Zack, you just came back from the dead.” Knowing it is a thing, but saying it out loud makes it even more real. Cloud quietly gasps at the thought. Zack is back from the dead. Something, or someone, plucked him out of the Lifestream and gave back his body. It’s not like anything that’s ever happened. People don’t just come back and tell the tale, do they? There’s no guide, no procedure, no medical treatment for someone who went through what Zack did.

“Nap with me?” Zack asks, wrenching cloud from his own thoughts.

Cloud considers it, and then decides he could use some rest as well. He nods, and Zack raises from his hiding spot, the sun rising to shine on Cloud’s grey world. They’re gross (Cloud especially), sticky and sweaty, it’s uncomfortable, but Cloud doesn’t really know much about these things to point out that there’s a shower in the house, because Zack kicking the sheets down and taking the external side of the bed and getting comfortable. Cloud doesn’t have the heart to tell him to wait. Cloud scooches back and turns so he’s on his side and curses his past decisions to get a small single instead of (at least) a twin when Zack loses his balance once, almost falling off the edge, while he tries to snuggle close to him. Cloud reaches out to grab Zack’s waist, holding him and keeping him close, and Zack makes a content sound, stealing more kisses.

Cloud presses himself against the wall, and tries to make himself as small as possible, but there’s only so much space. He ignores with stubborn stoicism the pang of cold when his flushed skin touches the metal. Once they’re both settled, Cloud notices that Zack is looking at him, something soft and vulnerable in his expression, and Cloud could swear he notices sadness in Zack’s eyes.

“What are you thinking?” he croaks, voice rough.

Zack shies away for a second, sheepish almost, a smile tugging at his lips. Cloud waits for him to look back, and when Zack does, it’s a sigh that announces the answer. “Shitty habits,” he explains, “kinda want to look at you drift to sleep, because honestly, I’ve wanted to see you awake and coherent for- a lot.”

Cloud doesn’t press. He doesn’t remember much from the time, but his body does, and it’s all it matters. Still, he knows a ‘but’ even if he doesn’t hear it.

“But I kinda get the jitters if I don’t have you between my back and a wall. Or a rock. Or, heh, cover.”

Cloud understands it but for entirely different reasons. He’s slept like this, back against the wall, for so long that he prefers it. “Roll over,” he says without even thinking, or waiting for Zack to ask. He’s hesitant to admit it to himself, to actually believe it, but he can make an effort for Zack. “There’ll be plenty of time for that. ‘S just a nap.”

Zack pouts, sighs, and eventually agrees with him, switching sides with some difficulty. Zack bites back a gasp when he notices Zack’s back, riddled with scars as well, bulletholes and burn marks. To Cloud, the day Zack died is but a cacophony of sounds; bullets piercing through the air, explosions, and so many screams. He remembers being in and out of consciousness, unable to move until the cold water had him twitch like a worm dragged out of its nook. Possessiveness surges through him as he hauls his hand over Zack’s midsection and drags him with force against him, pressing their bodies close and nosing the back of Zack’s neck. Zack makes a surprised sound, but he melts under Cloud’s arm, reaching for his hand and holding it close to his abdomen. Cloud squeezes back and inhales Zack’s smell, closing his eyes and allowing himself to finally take in the solid and warm body pressed against him. It doesn’t help that they’re still both very naked, and Zack may be taller than him, but like this? Cloud may be able to reach his neck, but Zack’s ass is very much slotted against his navel, and Cloud isn’t above basic decency, apparently. He understands now, maybe, what made it so hard for Zack to resist him when he was crowding Cloud against the mattress. It’s inviting, and Cloud doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“ Cloud ,” Zack sighs after a while, and Cloud can only make a noncommittal hum. “There won’t be any napping if you keep doing that .”

Cloud snorts. Of all the things that might make Zack tick, having Cloud breathe down his neck isn’t one he’d imagine. He does jump when Zack grinds his ass back into him, wiggling just enough to make it known that Cloud’s refractory period is not in effect anymore. “You’re insatiable,” he comments, but there’s no bite to it.

“It’s my birthday, I can get what I want,” Zack retorts back, too quickly.

Cloud’s brain stutters. “You were born in February .”

“On a leap year . And! I’ve skipped the last...” Cloud holds back a laugh when he notices Zack using his free hand to count the years with his fingers. An affronted gasp breaks the silence when he’s done. “ Two birthdays, Cloud. Two .”

Cloud can’t hold back the snicker. He remembers this argument very well.

However, Zack’s stretching just enough to turn around and peek at him through his black spikes. “Also, why would you know that information?”

Cloud flushes and ducks to hide behind Zack’s neck again. When Zack doesn’t turn around, he resorts to biting and licking him without force, just enough to have Zack squirm and give up the staring contest. “Stop making me confess, I’m already lame as I am,” he mumbles through his embarrassment.

“C’mooon, I wanna know!” Zack pleads, and Cloud hates it that he’s already won.

“I, um, I was in your fan club.”

He has to use his full SOLDIER strength to keep Zack from jumping up and doing the gods know what, because Zack gasps so hard Cloud knows he won’t live it down any time soon. “You? In my fan club? Were you ever gonna tell me?”

The sudden amount of questions have Cloud stumbling for a reply. He settles for one of his signature silences, and Zack chuckles, caressing him on the forearm.

“I wish you’d gotten your own fan club, I would’ve joined it.” And then, because Zack Fair is ADHD incarnate, he’s jumping again with another loud gasp. “I got it, I’m gonna found your fan club right now .”

“You will not .” Cloud barely has time to find purchase and haul Zack back into him before the man can scramble out of his bed. “What happened to napping?”

“What happened to snuggs ?”

“To what now?”

“Snuggs, sex and snuggles. Y’know,” Zack explains and decides to prove his point by grinding back into him, and Cloud might slap him if the motion doesn’t set his insides on fire like a whole firework show.

“That’s- not a thing,” Cloud affirms, he’s pretty sure. Mostly.

“Yes it is,” Zack replies, and then grinds some more. “Wait,” and then he’s untangling his hand from Cloud’s, quickly reaching in between their bodies and parting his cheeks to accommodate Cloud’s growing length between them. With a satisfied sigh, then, he returns to holding Cloud’s hand. The next roll of his hips is experimental, but it’s so much better, and Cloud doesn’t really have it in himself to continue their stupid banter.

Cloud makes the executive decision that Zack can have his victory, for both of their sakes.

Zack’s one-track mind seems to hyper-focus on Cloud’s needs. Cloud doesn’t think he’ll even be able to come at all, but he wants to give back to Zack at least a fraction of what Zack has just given him. So he lets go of Zack’s hand and presses his palm against the taught muscles of Zack’s abdomen. It doesn’t escape him the way Zack’s breath catches as Cloud traces further down, exploring the battered skin under calloused digits until he’s dipping into the V of Zack’s navel and finally getting a hold of his prize. Zack’s dick is already at half-mast, still coated in come and lube, when Cloud wraps his fingers around it. He doesn’t see, per se, but except for the awkward angle, he’s able to adjust fairly quickly, working his wrist so each stroke is fuller and travels along Zack’s entire length. It makes holding Zack and pumping him easier. Zack grows quickly under Cloud’s attentive motions, and Cloud basks in the little grunts and moans and “ fuck Cloud ”s that fill the silence.

He still doesn’t see much from where he is now, but Zack’s moans are enough to tell him that he’s doing a good job at not giving him the worst handjob of his life. And Zack’s ass, shit. Cloud rocks into him without a goal, allowing himself to enjoy the warmth of Zack’s body and the way his back arches into Cloud, pressing further into him when Zack bucks his hips after Cloud has pressed a little bit too much on his slit.

It’s lazy and so domestic, Cloud could almost trick himself into believing they’ve been doing this for years. But Zack’s short breaths are a novelty, the way he writhes and a strong hand wraps itself around Cloud’s, helping with each stroke. The one that can actually reach for Cloud, instead, makes sure to pull him further close, to meet Zack halfway as he turns over his shoulder and calls for Cloud.

The kiss is sloppy, open-mouthed, and so raw, full of want, that Cloud suffers whiplash from it. Before he’s even caring about his oversensitive skin, he’s thrusting with longing into Zack, chasing after a dry release. His navel is tight and, before he can even rationalise what’s just happened, Zack’s begging him to keep going, “ that’s it ”s, “ so close, Cloud ”s, until his whole body becomes live wire under Cloud’s fingers. Cloud drinks in the sensation of Zack’s coming undone, hot come shooting between his fingers as he rolls his wrist just to massage Zack’s tip, drawing out all of the remnants of his orgasm, letting Zack fuck his hand when he keeps it there.

And Zack, lips ajar and moaning right against Cloud’s mouth, gods, Zack looks like a dream. His sun-kissed skin is covered in pearls of sweat, black spikes completely awry and bright mako-eyes boring into Cloud’s. It takes Cloud’s breath away.

“I don’t think I’ll ever let you out of this bed, Spikes,” Zack whispers quietly, there’s the hint of a smile on his lips, but Cloud detects a serious overall tone. He easily believes him.

“You think I want to in the first place,” he observes, and Zack chuckles, low and vibrant. Cloud wants to listen to him forever. “We’ve got time now, though. Right?”

Zack smiles and inhales deeply before nodding, then he’s snuggling close. It’s the closest he’s ever. Cloud pushes his nose against Zack’s neck and breathes in the scent, letting it lull him to sleep together with Zack’s breaths and heartbeat. He doesn’t even realise he’s slipping, suspended in the most comfortable dreamless sleep.

Quick steps, too quick and short to be those of an adult. Denzel must be running around again, his brain provides. It’s been a while since Denzel behaved like an actual child his age. Not that Cloud would know what that is like, but he supposed something around the blurred lines of hyperactivity and obnoxious squeals of happiness, something like Marlene used to do when Barret lifted her up and threw her up, her own personal human trampoline bed. He knows Tifa will look after him, and make sure he doesn’t hit his head or does anything dangerous.

Tifa. He has to ask her how the repairs went, and if they need anything else from old Midgar, considering how the Lifestream radiations are still too high for normal people. His desk has been piling up again, even after Marlene pointed out how he never cleans his stuff. It’s normal. He’s almost never home, between each delivery, but the few times he is, like right now...

He’s home right now.

Wasn’t he sleeping in the church?

Zack convinced him to go back. He’s hugging Zack, tightly. He’s fallen asleep with Zack.

“Cloud’s home!”

He’s ready to be tackled. He’s slowly learning to not mind.

Cloud’s home.

Zack is home with him.

Denzel is going to tackle him.

Well, he and Zack.

We’re naked, provides his mind.

Cloud’s eyes fly open faster than a rocket taking off. He’s cursing on the top of his lungs and, beside him, a big beefy body tenses startles, and then raises just a split second after him. Zack is reaching for something , and Cloud is too busy formulating a plan to not be naked when Denzel gets in the room.

“Woah!” Zack wails, flailing as he falls face-first into the floor, one hand uselessly trying to hold onto the mattress sheet, only to pull it with him. “ Ow ,” comes from underneath.

Cloud might laugh if only he isn’t scrambling and tripping over Zack’s limbs in a desperate attempt to reach for his dresser. He hits his shin instead against it, curses like a sailor because first, that hurt , and second, he’s put a dent in it. The drawer’s never coming out without some coaxing now.

Zack is still trying to get a hold of what’s up and what’s down, his body tangled in the covers and the fitted sheet. Cloud wishes he had the time to even understand how it happened in so little time. Still, Denzel’s already running up the stairs, and Cloud’s last resource is his own pants scattered on the ground. He barely manages to pull them up when he hears it, Denzel’s right behind the door.

In a split-second decision, he turns around and, with horror, notices a still very naked Zack somewhat untangled and ready to get up. He’s rushing to him before he can think of zipping his pants, grabbing the cover Zack has just discarded and pulling it over his whole body. He gets his head too, but it doesn’t mind.

Next thing he knows, he’s holding onto his pants for dear life as Denzel barrels through the door and launches himself at Cloud’s waist, hugging him tightly. “You’re back!”

Denzel is so happy, Cloud kind of feels like an asshole for the way he’s awkwardly not turning around and returning his hug. The silence is telling enough, and Denzel’s a smart kid. Cloud notices he’s letting go of him the second the hug’s pressure decreases. He fumbles as quickly and stealthily as possible to at least make it look like his pants were definitely on him. If he manages, it’s only because (to a whole new degree of horror) Denzel is staring down on the ground, between Cloud’s feet and his bed, at the human-shaped sheet.

“Cloud?” Denzel asks, one hand still holding onto Cloud’s belt loops. “Is that a guy?”

Cloud swallows thickly. The silence stretches. To his surprise, Zack hasn’t moved, he’s perfectly still, almost too still. When Cloud doesn’t answer, however, the silence is broken by the quietest. “...no?”

The bedsheet has spoken.

Denzel inhales a sharp breath of shock and looks back up like Cloud grew a second head. “Are you... doing a sleepover?” he asks, and Cloud really wants to fucking disappear right this moment.

To add insult to injury, behind him, Tifa’s gasp breaks the outstretched silence, until she giggles like a teenager. This is most definitely the first time she’s “caught” Cloud with a stranger. Only this isn’t just any stranger. It’s Zack. “Denzel, how about we let them be for a minute? I’m sure Cloud’s friend is very shy if they’re hiding under there.”

Two things happen in rapid succession. First, Denzel turns around to look at Tifa. Second, Zack shoots up to sit down. If only he wasn’t somewhat under the bed, half of him at the very best, and he hits his head straight against the bedframe. Third, which is more of a result than anything else, Cloud has first-row tickets of his own cot getting a new dent and lifting up for a good few inches before slamming back down on Zack’s face.

Then, Zack’s K.O.’d on the floor, the sheet showing his arms gathering up to his face, while a grunt of pain escapes him. “Owww, my nose ,” he whines as he struggles again with the sheet. Sooner than later, black spikes and mako-blue eyes pop out of the fabric, directed straight at Tifa.

“Wait!” Zack croaks, urgent and surprised.

“Who are you?” Denzel says at the same time.

“ What? ” Tifa gasps.

Cloud might just have had it. “Alright, I know, it’s a lot to unpack, moving on . Give us a minute.” And, with that, he’s hauling Denzel up on his arm like a sack of potatoes, Denzel’s giggling like he’s enjoying the ride of his life. Cloud drops him outside in the corridor, right next to Tifa, and is met with inquiring rich-brown eyes. “One minute,” he repeats, quieter, and it’s more of a plea than anything else.

Tifa’s expression is curious, to say the least, Cloud doesn’t think he’d see the day of Tifa looking at him with worry and suspicion. She eyes the room, straight right over Cloud’s shoulder and thins her eyes. However, whatever she finds on Cloud’s face must be enough, because her expression softens and she nods. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me, just call, alright?”

Then she’s gone, Denzel’s hand tight in hers, as Denzel asks all kinds of questions that Cloud couldn’t answer.

Cloud sighs as he closes the door and turns the lock on. It’s useless, he knows, because both he or Tifa could tear the door out of its hinges, but it still tricks his brain into a false sense of security, that he’s got privacy now. “Shiva,” he whispers.

“That was a long nap, huh,” Zack hums and Cloud can’t really keep his eyes away from Zack’s body as he shimmies from under the bedsheet and raises back on his feet. Just as he can’t help but notice the red angry nail marks that cover Zack’s entire back, the curve of his ass, the bitemark just under the hairline on his back. Cloud blushes at the idea, at the thought that Zack is sporting him on his body, that Cloud did that, and Zack liked it.

Zack catches him staring, and he must understand what’s happening, because he grins and comes closer to Cloud, trapping him against the door. “Like what you see, hot stuff?” he asks, and Cloud groans at the new pet name, but it lasts shortly because Zack is kissing him, soft and caring, and Cloud melts in it with a deep satisfied sigh. They’re separating too soon, but Cloud knows it’s for the best. “Might wanna hide your neck, I haven’t exactly held back.”

That definitely helps sober Cloud up. “What do you mean,” he deadpans, before pushing Zack and going for any vaguely shiny surface he can find. Even in the distorted image of himself, Cloud’s horror overtakes him at the absolute disaster his neck is. There are lovebites, hickeys, and so many signs of Zack’s mouth on him. And Denzel saw them .

Cloud stares at his window, as Edge slowly lights up as the night grows darker, and considers jumping out of it. He can make it. He can disappear and never come back.

“No escaping your fatherly duties, now, baby,” Zack says, the traitor.

At the same time, however, Cloud can’t deny he enjoys the way Zack reads him. Not even Tifa, for the longest time, has been able to do that. The familiarity they have is built on years of domestic partnership. Zack, however, knows him from their ShinRa days. Zack knows Cloud’s foundations, what built him up, what broke him. Strong arms circle around his midsection and Cloud leans back, blind, knowing Zack’s wide chest is there to catch him.

Another sigh. “No escaping,” he repeats with a small nod.

Behind him, Zack has put back up his fatigues, but his chest is still naked. Cloud revels in the sensation a bit much. They exchange some kisses, and more hugs, and take their time enjoying each other’s touches before reality beckons them downstairs, cleaned up and dressed with something more covering than bedsheets.

Zack is a steady presence behind him as Cloud shows him finally around and leads him downstairs. The bar is quiet, but Cloud’s enhanced hearing doesn’t miss the soft chit-chat of Tifa and Denzel as they prepare food. The smell is great, as anything Tifa cooks, and Cloud is well aware of the pit in his stomach as he opens the door and lets himself inside the bar’s open space.

Zack follows suit and clicks the door closed behind them. Denzel is already running towards Cloud by the time he makes it to the counter, and Cloud barely notices that the table has been set, the closest one to the counter. “Cloud!” Denzel chirps, hugging him close. This time, Cloud crouches down and does the same.

“Hey kiddo,” he greets, brushing Denzel’s hair with his hand.

Denzel lifts his head to look around and then shrinks back down between Cloud’s arms when Zack pops up close to them and crouches down as well with a wide smile. “Hey there,” he quips, bright and warm, “thanks for having me, lil’ man.”

Denzel looks at Cloud, awaits a nod, and then points at Zack. “Who are you? How did you get to do a sleepover? Cloud never lets me...”

Cloud stares at Tifa with something between horror and a silent prayer for help. Instead, he notices her giving Zack a pointed look, before turning around and focusing in full force on dinner. Weird.

“See, I’m an old friend of Cloud’s,” Zack explains, “and we’ve also slept together on some other times, so he’s used to it.” Cloud regrets not keeping an eye on Zack during that time, immediately.

“But Cloud’s friends never sleep with him. Not even Tifa,” Denzel retorts, and now Cloud’s eyebrow perks up as Zack’s silent panic emerges on his features.

“Uh, well, um.” If there’s something Cloud isn’t sure he’d ever witness, it’s speechless Zack. “Tell you what, I’ll put in a good word for you and get you that sleepover, how’s that sound?”

That seems to distract Denzel, who smiles and relaxes just enough that Cloud knows he can stop hugging him close and keeping him hidden. “Alright, but only ‘cuz your method clearly works better than mine,” and then Denzel is off to the table, finishing placing some of the glasses.

Cloud can’t help but smile, barely, as he follows Denzel’s adventures as he tries to reach the inner part of the table with short arms and shorter height. When he turns, Zack’s looking at him with enamoured eyes, and Cloud splutters, a furious blush overtaking him right from his chest to the ends of his ears. “What,” he deadpans. 

Zack, however, simply hums and stands up, stretching his limbs. Cloud follows suit, his hand already reaching for Zack’s bicep to request his attention once more. When Zack does, Cloud points at Tifa with a swift nod. “Give us a minute?” he asks.

Zack’s deep blues follow Cloud’s and something cracks the quiet on his expression. Cloud doesn’t know what it might be, but he doesn’t push. Not right now, at least. Then, Zack is kissing him on his cheek and joins Denzel before one of the pitchers ends up shattered. Cloud allows himself to look at their interaction, his heart swelling with warmth and pride when Denzel seems to overcome his initial shyness when Zack approaches him.

Of course Zack hasn’t lost his touch. It’s impossible to hate him.

So Cloud moves and slips past the counter to join Tifa. He pushes his hip outward, leaning just next to the electric hob, so he doesn’t get in Tifa’s way. He lets her cook, but it’s obvious she’s noticed him for a while now. He counts to ten and then breaks the forced silence. “Didn’t peg you for the silent type,” he observes. How the roles have changed, huh?

Tifa stops and takes a deep breath. “I don’t know how you two know each other, but I...” She still won’t look at Cloud, which tells him all that there is to know about the gravity of whatever’s brewing in her head. “Last time I saw him, Nibelheim-”

“That’s not on him, Tifa.” Cloud bites and then stops himself before he can get nastier. He knows. He still hasn’t really told Tifa about it all, about him being there.

“I know! But I don’t- he’s not- I don’t trust him.”

Cloud notices in the corner of his eyes Zack’s body twitch. He knows Zack’s listening, he can’t do anything else. Whatever with mako enhancement and such. So he turns again and looks back at her. “I was there too,” he lets out. “He tried to stop it.”

Tifa looks at him then, shocked and somewhat betrayed. “No you weren’t, those were his memories, Cloud,” she says.

Cloud sighs and then shakes his head. “I was, just... I didn’t tell you,” he says. “I was infantry, at the time. We were in Nibelheim together, and I was ashamed of not making SOLDIER. I kept you from going inside the reactor with them.”

Tifa blinks, mouth agape, and then her eyes fill with recognition. “You were there?” she asks, shocked.

Cloud nods. “I did- help Zack when Sephiroth got out of control. He couldn’t- you were both injured.” He lowers his head. Now, thinking back to that day, his mind doesn’t split with a persistent migraine. It still is foggy, but there’s a certainty to his words. “I took Zack’s sword and finished the job. Well, not really.” Since they all know very well what happened two years ago.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Tifa asks. She’s stopped cooking now, and Cloud reaches to lower the heat so nothing burns.

“I told you-”

“But why didn’t you say something to me ?”

Cloud grimaces at that. He knows why. He’s never had to put it into words. “I wanted to. But-” and he looks at Zack, still chit-chatting with Denzel in the background. They’ve finished setting the table, and now Denzel is showing Zack something from his phone. Cloud doesn’t linger. “I was away for a long time and then, I kind of... fell out of- you know.” He steals another glance at Zack and Tifa takes pity on him with a nod. “But I mainly didn’t want you to think I was a failure.” Before Tifa can interject, he raises a hand and stops her. “I know you wouldn’t. I was stupid and my pride didn’t let me do a whole lot of smart things back then.”

“Only back then, huh?”

Cloud groans. “Shut up, it was worse before.” He hopes it was. He definitely feels like he’s outgrown his younger self, finally.

Tifa snorts, it’s short-lived, just like the weak smile that flashes on her lips. And then she’s looking at Zack as well. “You haven’t really talked about him, you know?”

“He’s the one who saved me,” Cloud whispers, “he dragged me across half-Gaia. He- I wouldn’t be here if not for him.”

Tifa looks at him and Cloud doesn’t know what to do, except try to convey the enormity of what sits inside his heart for this man, this man who’s dragged his unconscious body through the land, took care of him in ways Cloud still doesn’t understand or remember. Whatever she finds must be enough, because she’s hugging him tightly and Cloud is choking on another sob. Damn it all, he wasn’t supposed to do that .

“I still want to ask him a few questions,” Tifa says, muffled by his hair, “but- I can tell he means a lot to you.”

“I love him.”

Tifa’s quiet gasp is not surprising, given how hard it has been for Cloud to allow himself anything but she’s squeezing him now, and Cloud doesn’t know what to do.

“I definitely need to talk to him now,” Tifa states, matter-of-factly.

Cloud groans. “Tifa, no .”

Tifa shushes him. “He’s disappeared for two years on you, he might’ve left you his sword, but whatever the reason, I sure hope it’s a good-”

“He died.”

That shuts her up in a way Cloud doesn’t really want to think of. “What?”

Cloud’s tired, very tired. “It’s a long story. I- I thought I was hallucinating him again-”

“ Again ?”

Cloud has a deja-vu. He cringes. There’s so much he hasn’t told her, isn’t there? “Tifa, please.” He can’t possibly get into the details tonight. He will, if he has to, but he’d rather not.

“Okay, alright, sorry, go ahead.”

“He came back for me, he says. I don’t know how, but he did. I don’t think you need to lecture him on not hurting me, and you definitely don’t need to protect me at all, you’ve already done way too much of that.” He untangles from the hug to hold Tifa’s shoulders and look her in the eyes. “‘Sides, he’s not the type. I trust him.”

Tifa relents and nods. “We’re family, Cloud, I’ll always want to look out for you. Just like you look out for me.”

Cloud smiles and shakes his head, without it really meaning anything. He’s resigned to giving Zack the heads up, but he knows better than to keep Tifa from doing something. Then, Tifa’s eyeing him like she’s onto something, and Cloud fears the mischief in her eyes.

“You might want to replace your bed, that one’s not gonna hold if you guys grip the headboard so tightly.”

Cloud’s colour drains from his face. Oh no.

“And!” Tifa chirps, raising the heat on the stove. “I’ve got some nice concealer if you want to hide those hickeys. It’s fine if you don’t. I thought I’d never see the day you were into someone . You’re more spontaneous. I like that, a lot , and of course, it’s good for you as well. You already look happier, and he’s been here for what, a few hours?”

Cloud does some math on how quickly he can run out of the door, jump on Fenrir, and floor it.

“Help me bring this to the table?” Tifa asks, pointing at a bunch of sides she’s prepared on the counter.

Cloud is already moving by the time she finishes stir-frying the noodles. As they gather around the table, Zack sits right next to him and elbows him gently on the arm. “He adores you, you know?” he asks, pointing at Denzel’s already-dirty face as he eats with gusto.

Cloud nods and smiles. “I do,” he confirms. Whether he deserves such adoration or not, Zack doesn’t need to know. Cloud’s doubts are his alone, even though by the look of pure mischief on Zack’s face Cloud anticipates trouble.

“He might’ve called you dad when you weren’t looking,” Zack whispers, low and very close to Cloud’s ear.

Cloud chokes on the food. He blinks, speechless, and stares at Zack. “He did?” For a moment Cloud can forget about the raging blush that’s threatening his very existence, or Tifa’s curious look still coated in suspicion.

Zack smiles and nods before going back to his own plate. Denzel is already talking about something he and the other stray kids drew while in the provisory school today. Cloud turns to look at his kid, because Denzel is his, given that Tifa already had Marlene to look out for as a godparent when Barret is away. Back in his room, in one of his desk’s drawers, the adoption papers are a stark reminder of the responsibility he’s taken upon himself.

Denzel is excited, and Cloud easily lets him talk. It’s rare to see him so relaxed, considering his shy nature, but for some reason, he opens up when Cloud’s around, he’s cheerier - or so he’s been told, that when Cloud’s away, Denzel’s introvert nature comes rushing out and keeps everything and everyone at arms length. At the same time, Zack’s only encouraging him by asking every kind of question on his day, on his friends, on what’s going on outside in Edge now that people are rebuilding. Cloud can’t begin to express how much it means that Zack and Denzel are getting along so well together.

“That’s cool , buddy! You should be proud of that,” Zack says, enthralled and completely enamoured with Denzel.

Denzel smiles, cheeks red and food still hanging on his chopsticks. “And then, Mr Darcan asked us to-”

Denzel cuts himself off quickly and lowers his head. Cloud arches an eyebrow, tries not to stare, but the pause is obvious. Zack tilts his head and nudges Cloud under the table, so Cloud gather his courage and tries to not fuck it up. “Denzel,” he calls, and he’s trying real fucking hard to keep his voice gentle, but it comes out with somewhat of a croak and Cloud grimaces internally, “is something the matter?”

Denzel’s blush is somewhat obvious in the shadow of the light. “‘S nothing,” he mumbles.

Cloud frowns at that, especially because Tifa too is now eyeing him and trying to get him to talk to Denzel. He knows a conspiracy when he sees one. “You sure? We can talk about it somewhere else if you’re uncomfortable,” he offers. Maybe the issue is the audience.

Denzel looks up to him and then shoots a glance at Tifa, he’s worrying his lip and Cloud is now officially fighting one of his signature scowls. He doesn’t want Denzel to think he’s annoyed at him specifically. Tifa’s smiling the second Denzel looks at her, nudging him and smiling warmly. Then, to his absolute surprise (and shock), Denzel does the same to Zack. And Zack does the same .

So the audience isn’t the problem. Cloud ’s the problem.

Do you want me to leave? , is the first thing that comes to his mind. He has to physically bite it back and think of something else, something more rational and definitely less wrong. He knows it’s not that.  “You can talk to me, Denzel,” he offers.

Denzel’s closing off again, to the point Cloud’s worried he might’ve pushed too much, or maybe too little. He’s not sure. Then, Denzel says it so fast Cloud needs a moment to understand the meaning of it all. “Mr. Darcan wanted to meet our parents, or legal guardians- he knows not everyone’s got family.”

“When?” Cloud asks, and Tifa sighs. What? , he side-eyes her, and she has the gall to pretend she hasn’t seen it.

“Tomorrow- but it’s okay! I know you’re busy an’ all,” Denzel is quick. “And, I mean,” he adds, looking at Zack now, right over Cloud’s shoulder, “I’m not- you aren’t- I mean, I know you don’t-”

Oh.

Oh.

Cloud stands up, because he may be slow on the uptake, but he’s fairly sure he knows what this is about. “I’m gonna show you something, alright?” he says, and Denzel looks up to him with this worried look that tears through Cloud. Fucking hells, why did he let it get so bad? “I’ll be right back.”

Denzel simply nods and Cloud walks away, back upstairs to his room.

“ Is he gonna leave again? ” Denzel’s voice is but a whisper, but Cloud can’t really avoid the way it sounds defeated.

“ Absolutely no , honey, ” Tifa, “ Cloud may like quiet time, but this isn’t—- ”

The voices drift away under his steps as he reaches for his door and grimaces as he’s greeted by a stained sheet, promptly (and very awkwardly) left all jumbled up in a corner of his room, and shit , the head of the bed’s frame has a pretty obvious curve where Cloud’s pulled and gripped too hard. Shit, fuck, shit , Gaia’s damned ass. Cloud slaps his thoughts away with newfound resolution as he thinks of Denzel downstairs, waiting on him to explicitly say what he’s been keeping to himself for so long.

He knows he wouldn’t be able to keep Denzel with him, or even just give him a house as soon as a semblance of bureaucracy is back in place now that ShinRa’s out of commission and the WRO is slowly providing the services that a government should. So he’s gotten ahead of the timetable and prepared the necessary papers. Anything he’s found out about Denzel during the time they had to get him a new ID and everything else. Turns out, applying for adoption isn’t too much of a hassle when you’re somewhat of a hero.

Gods, he hates the title with every inch of his self.

It’s easy to find the drawer at his desk, get the papers out, neatly stacked inside a plastic bag, together with birth certificates and all. He’s got Marlene and Tifa’s too, considering that his room is usually an office, most of the times. He’s rushing down the stairs before he knows it, then. It’s a bit of a hustle, to make it sound like he’s in not that much of a hurry, but he is. As soon as he steps inside the room, Zack’s boisterous voice comes to a halt. He’s got two straws held up by his lips and it looks like the perfect re-enactment of a Spriggan’s long tongue.

“Fhee?” Zack chirps, and Cloud doesn’t bother hiding the chuckle at this point. “Told ya he’d be back.”

Cloud sits back down and offers Denzel the documents, ignoring the amount of drool Zack’s left on the straws as he settles them inside his glass. Of course Zack has asked for straws, of course .

“What’s this?” Denzel asks, skimming through the files. Cloud hardly imagines his confusion, given how he just came back with some boring-looking papers while they were having an important discussion.

“Read ‘em,” Cloud encourages, pinching one of the very first pages and removing it from the pile.

Denzel frowns, but does as he’s told. “Po- probate court of Midgar Edge,” he reads, slowly, “Cloud... Strife, full name of petionin- pe-”

“‘S okay, you can skip that line,” he says.

“For the adoption of Denzel—- Strife,” Denzel is quiet then, but Cloud knows the words by heart.

I, the undersigned, Cloud Strife (M), celibate, whose address is 76, Rhyos St, Midgar Edge, do hereby petition the Court for leave to adopt Denzel Strife (M) and represent to the Court: one, that the petitioner herein seeking adoption has lived in or been domiciled in Midgar Edge for at least six consecutive months immediately preceding the filing of this petition; two, that Denzel Smith was born in the city of Midgar on the [ ν ] - εγλ 0003, day of December, 22nd; third, that the petitioner is not related to said adult adoptee. Signed, Cloud Strife.

Cloud is quiet as Denzel reads through the whole thing, then goes back up top and reads again once more and then has to stop, because big round tears are pooling at his eyes and he looks at Cloud with them.

Cloud doesn’t hesitate to ask, he opens his arms and gathers Denzel in them, holding him tight. Denzel shuffles nervously until Zack helps him and slips the document on the table, Cloud swears someone (Zack) is sniffing right in his ear.

“For real?” Denzel asks, voice muffled right against Cloud’s shirt.

“Yeah, kiddo, for real,” he confirms, and then Denzel is pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes.

“Can- can I call you dad?”

Cloud’s heart breaks, fixes it back together and swells. “Of course you can, I’d be honoured if you did.”

Then, Zack is whimpering like a kicked puppy. “Oh, who am I kidding, hope you two are ready for a big ol’ hug ‘cause I’m gonna cry if this keeps up,” is all the warning Cloud gets, before both he and Denzel are embraced by strong tanned arms and held tight together. Zack is pressing his forehead to Cloud’s temple, telling him how happy he is for them, how great of a dad Cloud will make, and Denzel is giggling, still teary-eyed, but his smile lights up the entire room. Cloud knows he must’ve done something right tonight, or this wouldn’t be happening.

It’s not a long time before Tifa too joins in, hugging the other side of Cloud and Denzel’s, leaning her head against Cloud’s shoulder and then kissing Denzel’s head as he throws his hands at her neck.

Cloud’s day couldn’t go better.

His night, too.

They stay together until late, until Denzel yawns and Cloud takes him to bed, reading him a story from the book they’ve been skimming through. Only when Denzel is quietly snoring in his bed does Cloud raise and flip the bookmark on the right page and puts it back on the nightstand. Before he switches the light off, however, he catches Zack leaning on the door frame. Cloud hasn’t heard him, nor does he know how long Zack’s been there, but his mako-blue eyes are trained on Cloud. The way Zack smiles at him has Cloud’s heart in a twist. Has Zack always looked at him this way? Did he forget? If so, how could he? How did he even not notice?

Cloud flicks the lights off and joins Zack’s in the corridor with quiet steps, helped by the socks he’s wearing. He waits for the door’s click to turn towards Zack and whisper a quiet, “hey.”

Zack beams. “Hey yourself,” he greets back, stealing yet another kiss and wrapping his arms around the small of Cloud’s back. “Ready for some real sleep?”

Cloud huffs, eyes rolling in fake annoyance. He nods anyway. “We gotta get you some clothes,” he murmurs as they slowly and clumsily make their way back to Cloud’s room - none of them want to untangle themselves, so they make it work. “I think I’ve got something of Barret’s you can borrow in the meantime. From when he stays here with Marlene.”

Zack scowls at that. “Nu-huh,” he retorts, index right in Cloud’s face being shaked left and right, “I sleep naked.”

“‘Course you do,” Cloud deadpans.

A wink, and Zack’s laughing - as quietly as he can, which isn’t much. “I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself. Unless you reeeeally want me to.”

They have to untangle, eventually, and Cloud’s quietly cleaning the rest of the mess they’ve made when Zack gasps, just a few feet away from him, staring at something inside the room. When he turns to look, Zack is staring at some tires Cloud has stashed in the far corner of the room, right under the windows.

“Why do you have bike tires in here?” Zack asks, casual, like it’s no big deal. Cloud begs to differ, seeing that Zack brought it up in the first place.

“Uh...”

“ Cloud ,” Zack’s tone is so unjust. It’s not Cloud’s fault he’s used to living in an office, rather than a room. “Tell me you’ve got an actual room, I don’t know, at your own place.”

Cloud looks away. “You already know the answer to that,” he mumbles. Zack has been looking over him from the Lifestream, he knows better than to make Cloud answer that question.

“Sunshine,” comes from behind him, now, and then warm arms are holding him close and Cloud melts into the embrace. “Give me a few weeks and I’m painting this room.”

“That a threat?”

Zack laughs. “A promise, you ass! This room’s too depressing even for me, you’ll need to introduce some colours in your life now that I’m here.”

Cloud finds it he doesn’t hate the notion as much as he thinks he would.

They settle on the bed, it’s cramped, but it’ll have to do for the night. Cloud doesn’t mind the closeness one bit, not when Zack is turning over to look at him and offers Cloud his arm to sleep on. Cloud falls into Zack’s arms and slots himself against him like the last missing piece to a puzzle. They fit, Cloud’s never been able to think of himself in such a way, to fit and belong like he does right now.

Somehow, it scares him, the way this thing has grown between he and Zack in the spawn of just half a day. “You’ll still be here when I wake up tomorrow,” he asks quietly in the dark of the night, “right?”

Zack breathes in and scooches closer, as if there’s any space left to close between them. “Yeah, Cloud,” he promises.

Cloud believes him.

True to his word, Zack is right beside him the next morning, and the morning after, and the one after it too.

Zack stays.