Before this starts, I wanted to say thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, and favorited Of Mornings and Chocobos. Within the first day, it had 350 hits, and 15 favorites. I think that's the fastest any of my stories has ever gained either. So thanks again!

Cloud was not afraid of the dark.

He squinted his wide blue eyes at the half-open closet door nestled between the door leading to the hallway, and the bathroom, in Sephiroth's room, clutching a small, tattered stuffed chocobo in his hands. Squirming back slightly, eyes never leaving the door, he got just a little bit closer to the General; he didn't quite touch the man, though. He had learned months ago that Sephiroth was a very light sleeper—and very cranky if he was woken up when he didn't want to be. He glanced at the glowing display of 12:33 on the nightstand, and then continued staring at the closet door, gaze occasionally flickering to the dark bathroom.

Sephiroth's apartment creaked frequently at night; when it wasn't creaking, the sound of footsteps from SOLDIERs wandering the hall late at night practically echoed through the living room, and, eventually, the bedroom. The steady buzz from the refrigerator accompanied the creaks, and every so often, there would be a loud thud from Angeal and Zack's apartment next door—though what they were doing, Cloud never wanted to know. Tonight, though—tonight the usual noises were completely drowned out by the steady downpour that had been thrashing Midgar all day. There was no usual late-night laughter from Zack watching that stupid comedy show he had to watch every night (Cloud had suffered through it more than a few times); the refrigerator and footsteps had absolutely nothing on the sound of rain hammering on the window.

Cloud rubbed his eyes tiredly, and then resumed his staring contest with the damned closet door that he had forgotten to close while Sephiroth was in the shower.

Every night, Cloud closed the closet door securely while the General showered; never while the silver-haired man was in the room though, just in case he questioned the teen's actions. He was not afraid of the dark. Definitely not.

He was afraid of the fucking monster most definitely living inside the depths of Sephiroth's closet.

Had he seen it? No. That just made it so much worse—knowing it was probably living in there, and he hadn't even seen it. He squinted again, nearly jumping out of his skin when a low rumble of thunder preceded a flash of lightning that lit up the small room for the briefest of seconds, and displayed the gaping maw of a dark abyss in the wall. Frantically, Cloud's eyes searched the briefly illuminated opening, hoping to find a sign that there wasn't a twenty-two legged wolverine, or a three-headed axe murderer in the closet, but to no avail; the light had retreated as quick as it had appeared. Wait, how many claws did wolverines have per foot? Cloud debated for a long moment, eyes still focused on the door surely hosting his demise. Five? His eyes flew open, horrified; that'd be one hundred ten claws used disembowel him and rip his eyeballs out! Not to mention the two extra pairs of eyes the axe murderer would no doubt use to hunt him down!

He whimpered and scooted back a little bit more, glancing over his shoulder to ensure there was still at least a foot between him and his sleeping lover. Sephiroth was a light sleeper, and if he wouldn't watch for the deadly flailing limbs of whatever freakish thing lived in that closet, then Cloud would.

His foot felt cold. Glancing down, he came to the realization that his right foot was precariously hanging off the end of the bed. He jerked it up quickly, leaning on his elbows and very slowly peeking over the edge of the bed. Sitting up, he readjusted the blanket over his feet, then sank back down carefully, and went back to staring at the door expectantly. Another rumble of thunder echoed through the apartment, and he readied himself to study the once again illuminated opening. Again, nothing. Cloud shook his head; he was being silly—like hell Sephiroth would allow anything to live in his closet. Or under his bed, for that matter. He groaned quietly into his pillow, burying his face in it and attempting to fall asleep.

And then it started.

The hairs on the back of his neck were on end, and he was positive something was watching him. He swallowed thickly, and tried his best to ignore the growing sense of danger and panic growing in the pit of his stomach. A loud, sudden creak caused the blonde to bolt upright and stare straight at the half-open closet once again, eyes wide. He gulped down air, trying to soothe the fear taking fieldtrips up and down his spinal cord, as he examined each and every corner of the room, finally settling his gaze on the sleeping form of Sephiroth.

The General was sprawled haphazardly across the bed on his stomach, both arms under one of the pillows on the bed; his hair draped over his bare back, pooling at his sides. His mouth was open just the slightest, and the blanket just barely covered his boxer-clad backside. Sighing, Cloud reached down and gently pulled it back up to his shoulders. He glared at the clock that now read 1:02, and rolled onto his side, studying Sephiroth's face intently, doggedly trying to ignore that ever-lingering sense of being watched. He watched a strand of silver hair fall into the General's face—

And became immensely aware that something was fucking walking across the bedroom floor. Panicking, he rolled over and gaped in horror; sure enough, a large hulking figure was steadily making its way across the bedroom floor. The glint of something shown from the figure's hand, and Cloud let out a blood-curdling shriek of terror, slamming himself back into the General and promptly pulling him from his peaceful slumber—which was definitely not his best idea.

Sephiroth bolted upright, fumbling with the lamp on his nightstand and turning it on. He whirled his angry gaze around towards the rest of the room. Cloud was curled up in a ball, crying and screaming like a fucking banshee, and in the middle of his bedroom… was Zack Fair, clutching a cell phone and looking completely confused. As soon as the small lamp flickered to life, Cloud stopped mid-scream, and stared blankly at Zack, who held up his hands innocently. He looked from the glowering General, who was displaying a fine example of the perfect 'you-are-about-to-die-but-I-will-hear-you-out-before-ripping-your-fucking-face-off' look, and his blonde best friend, who was staring at him in wide-eyed terror.

After a moment of awkward silence,—broken only by Cloud taking great sniffles—Zack placed the phone on the mahogany end table by Cloud's head, then reached over and ruffled the teen's spikes. "Hey, Spike." He murmured, casting a measuring glance at Sephiroth, whose cat-like eyes were narrowed dangerously on the blonde. "Uh… Sorry I scared you guys. Spike forgot his phone at my place, and…"

"I was not scared." Sephiroth snapped, frowning. "Zackary Fair, was it really appropriate to return a cell phone at—," he glanced at the clock, and his gaze turned completely murderous. "—1:15 in the fucking morning?"

Zack winced and rubbed the back of his neck, giving the clock a quick look. Honestly, he hadn't even thought about the time. "Probably not. Sorry, Seph."

Sephiroth continued pinning the SOLDIER with a death glare to rival that of just about any monster on the planet, then promptly flopped back down on the bed and rolled over. "Out." He hissed, muffled by his pillow.

"Alright, alright, I'm go—"

"Get. Out. Now." The General growled lowly, reaching for the empty glass on the end table.

Zack gave Cloud an apologetic look, then took off, closing the bedroom time just before shattered class decorated the bedroom floor from its collision with the door. Without a word, Sephiroth turned off the lamp, and closed his eyes.

The front door clicked shut, and Cloud sank down into the blankets, scooting away from Sephiroth in an attempt to keep the man's cranky you've-woken-me-up-so-there-will-be-hell-to-pay mood focused on Zack; the General would never be violent to Cloud, but he would give him The Look. The Look was something to be reckoned with when it was Sephiroth giving it to him—it made the sixteen year old feel like the worst person alive, but at the same, feel loved. It was confusing, and he hated it.

Less than a minute later, Cloud realized the closet door was still wide open, and shifted uneasily. He listened to the muffled scolding from Angeal ("What were you thinking? It's past 1 AM, Pup!") mixed with the pouring rain tapping against the window, and went back to just staring at the door. He thanked any and every god or goddess that he possibly could that tomorrow was Saturday, and he wouldn't have to wake up early for drills.

Approximately twenty-three minutes later, Cloud was on the verge of tears. He wanted to sleep. he couldn't because the door was wide open, and he was too consumed by fear of gods-knew-what-was-hiding-in-there to get up and close it, which would incidentally wake up Sephiroth.

And he really didn't want that.

He reached a shaking hand out for his chocobo—he had nearly dropped it off the edge of the bed when Zack had scared him—and pulled it close, burying his face in its faux material and using it to muffle any sniffles he might make. The storm was dying down, and the creaks of Sephiroth's apartment decided it was time for them to make their reappearance, to Cloud's great displeasure. Dragging himself into a sitting position, he observed the steady rise and fall of Sephiroth's back, then took a deep breath and made his decision.

He would close that damn closet door. And he would do so quietly.

Shaking like a half-dead leaf hanging in a late-autumn windstorm, he clutched his chocobo to his chest and peered over the edge of the bed. Certain that no monster would—instantly, at least—grab his leg, he set one foot on the cool wood of Sephiroth's floor, and slowly tiptoed his way to the closet, eyes wide and making a futile attempt at gaining night vision. He stepped up to it, and frowned when he felt a weird feeling in his foot—

That promptly turned into immense, searing pain, only comparable to the time he'd slammed his fingers in the car door when he was twelve. He yelped loudly, flailing and falling back on his rear, grabbing his right foot. The tears started not even a second later, and he listened—with growing horror—as there was an irritated, sudden shifting on the bed, and the end table lamp once again bathed the room in light. Cloud blinked once, then twice, then stared at his foot and screamed.

A chunk of glass roughly the size of his pinky finger was sticking out of the sole of his foot. He heard quick steps and prepared himself for the oncoming Look, but was instead greeted by gentle hands scooping him up, pushing him close to a muscled chest, and the bedroom rapidly turning into the bathroom. The light was flicked on, and he was set on the counter, sniffling and trying not to stare at his foot as Sephiroth rummaged through the cupboard for the first-aid kit.

With a sigh, Sephiroth gripped his chin, tilting it upwards so he met deep blue eyes. His cat-like green eyes with their flicks of gold were wide and worried. "Cloud—Cloud. Stop fidgeting, and let me get the glass."

Giving one last great sniffle, the blonde bobbed his head. Sephiroth pulled him close, nestling the blonde's face into the crook of his neck as he fished the tweezers out of the first-aid kit. After a moment of wrestling with the glass, it slid out of the teen's foot, and the General set to work ensuring there were no other pieces embedded in his lover's limb.

Cloud swallowed hard. "S-Sephiroth?" he whispered, sniffling before he was finished.

"Hn?" the silver-haired man grunted his reply, pulling a needle and some thread out of the small kit.

"I-I'm s-sorry." The teen murmured with a frown, wiping the fresh tears away with a shaking hand. He felt like a child; he had woken the man up—twice—because of a stupid fear, and ended up hurting himself.

Sephiroth paused in his work, setting the needle down carefully and peeling the crying teen from his shoulder. Cloud looked up at him with a rather adorable pout, and he leaned down, planting a chaste kiss to the cadet's lips. Pulling away, he resumed his work, flashing Cloud a brilliant smile while he did so. Blue eyes blinked stupidly, and a red blush decorated his face; smiles from his boyfriend were few and far between—but they were beautiful nonetheless, in his opinion. He spent the next five minutes, willing himself to be completely still, despite how sensitive his feet were, and how off it felt when the thread pulled through his skin.

By the time Sephiroth was done wrapping the small foot, Cloud was out like a light, hunched forward and forehead resting on his pale shoulder. He scooped the teen up and returned to the bedroom, flicking the light off on his way, and stepping over the glass on the floor—he made a mental note to clean it up first thing in the morning. He snatched Cloud's chocobo up from where it had been dropped, and laid him down on the bed, tucking the stuffed bird into his hands. As he tucked Cloud back in and laid down next to him, he briefly wondered the boy had been out of bed anyhow; he quickly shrugged it off, deciding his boyfriend had needed to use the bathroom, and turned the lamp off.

The first thing Cloud took note of when he felt himself ascend from the deep depths of dreamland was that his foot hurt. Pouting, he wiggled his toes and dragged his knee up, reaching a hand down to touch the limb. The sole of his foot felt weird, and he sat up, pushing the blankets back to look, and finally opening his eyes.

Big mistake.

He gaped at the open door of the closet. Hadn't he shut that? Oh. Right. He stepped on the glass. He twisted around to watch Sephiroth's dead-to-the-world back, and then glared at the closet door. The little luminescent numbers on the clock read 2:36, and he frowned. He'd fallen asleep.

…While the closet door was open.

Horror-struck, he realized his back had been facing the closet, too. He could have died! He whipped his large blue eyes around to examine the dark opening once more, pulling his knees up and resting his chin on them.

He would not make that mistake again.

Moments later, Cloud slumped over, fast asleep, his face buried into Sephiroth's neck. Green eyes snapped open, a frown etched across the General's face, and he pushed himself into a sitting position. He reached out a hand and gently shook the teen's shoulder—

And promptly got an earful of a rather horrified scream. He pried the blonde off of him, gripping his shoulders tightly so he wouldn't fling himself backwards off the bed.

"Cloud. Cloud!" he snapped, moving one hand to the boy's chin and forcing him to look at the General.

Cloud froze, eyes flying open and staring innocently at his boyfriend. He swallowed thickly, blinked, then pried the fingers off of his chin and turned to look at the closet. No bat-wolf-dragon hybrid was creeping towards him. He turned back to Sephiroth, fidgeting a little. "U-Um…"

Sephiroth's cat-slitted green eyes followed the teen's gaze towards the closet, then he raised an eyebrow and frowned; he looked down at Cloud's nervous wide eyes and cocked his head slightly to the side.

'Maybe he doesn't th—"

"Are you afraid of the closet?"

'—shit.'

Cloud drew his bottom lip into his mouth, chewing on it and pondering whether or not the General would tease him over a stupid little fear. He risked a glance up, took in the utterly confused and tired look on the man's face and sighed. "It's stupid. I'm sorry for waking you up." He murmured, moving to lie back down.

Sephiroth watched the teen curl into a ball, eyes trained on the closet door. Turning off the lamp, he climbed off the bed, and—avoiding the glass—made his way to the door, promptly pulling it further open. He stuck his head in, and turned towards Cloud. Blue eyes watched him intently, half-hidden by the blanket and the faded yellow of his stuffed chocobo. He beckoned to his lover, and Cloud violently shook his head.

"Cloud, come here." He whispered, holding out his hand.

Again, Cloud shook his head again, eyes wide. Sephiroth sighed, shook his head, and twitched his fingers. "Please, Cloud."

The blonde swallowed nervously, then hesitantly eased himself off of the bed, clutching his chocobo. He slowly walked across the bedroom and took Sephiroth's hand—he wouldn't let the monster get Cloud, right? Without giving the teen a chance to back away, he pushed him into the closet, sliding in after him and closing the door. Cloud yelped, clinging tightly to him and burying his face into a bare shoulder. After a moment of Cloud's panicked breathing, Sephiroth leaned back against the wall and slid down, pulling the teen with him. He threaded his fingers in soft blonde spikes, kissing the pale forehead.

"Will you tell me why you were scared?"

"…Cl…et…m…nster…" Cloud whined, his words muffled by Sephiroth's shoulder.

A silver eyebrow arched delicately, and his looked around the closet; he was positive there was no monster hiding in there. "Cloud," he cooed, kissing the forehead again. "There is no monster in here."

The weight in his lap shifted slightly, and Cloud sat up, looking down at their laps in the dark. "Promise?" he questioned in a hushed tone; he felt weird asking the General such a silly question.

Lips met his and he froze, surprised; Sephiroth didn't often kiss him on the lips—on the cheek, the forehead, or even a scrape or a bruise, sure. Seconds later, the General pulled away, kissing his blonde spikes instead.

"I promise, Cloud. There is nothing in here that could harm you."

Cloud nodded, eyeing the dark closet that surrounded him. He shifted his weight and curled up against the bare chest, closing his eyes and listening to the steady rhythm of Sephiroth's heartbeat. They remained there, motionless, sitting on the floor of Sephiroth's closet, and Cloud realized that there was not a unicorn with four horns and giant fangs trying to kill him hiding within it. He grinned at his silly fear and gave a yawn, snuggling closer to the now-sleeping form of his boyfriend.

Before he slipped into a much more pleasant sleep than he'd experienced in quite some time, he wondered if he should tell Sephiroth that he was positive a swamp monster lived in the hall closet.

…Probably not.

Aha, I loooooved writing this. I totally used to think there was a multi-horned unicorn in my closet when I was like, 10. Review?