AN: Mostly fluff/shonen ai. An experimental Clack fic for my soul. Behold my attempts at humor. (: I originally want to write angst but my mind wont let me release my own internal turmoils. Comments and concrits are welcome. It will help very much to improve my english. (: I only have some general idea for this fic right now, but I want to keep it short to avoid in-completion. After a long time of not writing, I Hope you enjoy. I also hope that this fandom and pairing is still alive. Also posted in AO3.


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It was late in the summer afternoon as he flipped through the pages of Loveless, drinking every word like water. The last rays of sunlight from the afternoon sun bathed a nostalgic glow into his room, tiny dust particles floating through air. He cannot seem to progress from the same paragraph somehow, Roxie invading his mind every now and then, as she sang softly in the background.

"It must have been you, I should have known by now…"

"It must have been you.."

It has been playing on loop for about an hour now that he has thought about it. From almost a thousand of songs on his playlist, he played a single song, over and over again, it's lyrics loosing it's meaning each time it was mercilessly repeated. Cloud was more of an alternative music genre lover though, mind you. (Don't judge.) It was just one of those moments again when you hear a song and you just can't, can't, get enough of it.

He tuned her out and wondered once again how long he's going to do this, this endless cycle of mundane everyday tasks that eats away at his sanity, very slowly, each passing torturous day. Eat, sleep, shit, go to work. It has become mind-numbingly boring, his mind reduced to a gaping void of nothing. Thank God for books.

He finally closed the novel as he heard the laughters and clatter from the other side of his wall. It was 5 mins past six. A little too early but the partying on his neighboring apartment has become more frequent in the last month, really, from once every month up to now – like every God-damned Saturday. He slid down from the windowsill and prepared to head out, the usual. He shrugged his black coat on, shoving his phone in his pocket. He stuck in his earbuds as he walked towards the door, blocking off the world.

It was his day off, damn it, yet he was outside walking mindlessly amongst the throngs of people in Midgar. Thankfully it was Saturday and the sheer number of people out and about is astonishingly high. He let out an inaudible sigh. Once again, thank God for earbuds and the genius who ultimately thought of a way to make people, you know, (excuse the word) fuck-off. But sometimes, even that don't work, especially to people who just can't get a damned clue. What else to do in those situations though? Of course, pretend that they just don't exist. He must have maxed out his indifference level by now to 99. Cloud continued to walk down the pavement, completely ignoring the person who was trying to communicate to him over his earbuds. .EAR-BUDS. Seriously though, do people even see the obvious "don't talk to me" aura he was giving off? Isn't that what headphones are for? It must be very rude for the other receiving end though, being completely ignored like that. What if it's important? What if they needed directions? Sometimes he just can't help but feel a little guilty after all. Nevertheless, he tried to walk faster while he seethes internally at the couple walking ever so slowly before him. He managed to sidestep them however, and walked past, leaving that poor soul behind. Not even a glimpse. He was getting closer to the food district now. Take out it was, for sure. What did he expect from a megalopolis like Midgar anyway? From the lavish shopping districts, to the most sumptuous food districts and to the most advanced technologies, you name it, they have it. Aside from peace of mind, of course. There has never been a livelier place than this. And in the hearth of it all, stood Shinra, the mega corporation that runs the continent. (But that is another story on it's own.)

It was almost 11 in the evening and tiredness has slowly creeped into his system. The upbeat music that was assaulting his senses since the afternoon is becoming more and more intolerable each passing moment. Maybe it was also the beer. Yeah, he liked drinking, but contrary to popular beliefs, he just enjoyed them occasionally. And when he meant occasionally, he meant special occasions like birthdays, anniversaries and such. Not happy Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, or more often Saturdays. He knows all too damned well that he could just say no to this, and yet he always finds himself agreeing to them nonetheless. Because truth be told, he liked the company of other people. And he knows he was one of the most easily persuaded guys one can ever meet. Yes, it's entirely his fault. Sighing, he stood promptly from where he was seated (on the floor because Reno and their friends has occupied every single furniture in his apartment) and headed for the door. Maybe some fresh air will clear out his budding headache. He was reaching for the doorknob when he stopped short, hearing knocking from the other side. His friends were now too oblivious of their surroundings to even notice him going out. Hell, every one of them acts like they own his place, making a mess in every way possible. Laughter again fills the air. Zack can't help but smile.

He was greeted by a stoic-looking boy as he slipped out, his long black coat and equally black pants accentuating his lean body, and his very, very, VERY blonde hair. (and did he mention that it was also very, very spiky?) Underneath his ver—blonde locks which was glowing by the way (because of that yellow corridor light that is), are bluest of blues Zack had ever seen. He himself was often complimented for his light-blue eyes, people always telling him how pretty they were or something like that. But man, this guy's even prettier. Not that he's saying he looks pretty. On the contrary, he was fucking haaandsome though a little effeminate-looking. His face was rounder, nose a tad smaller, and lips that surely can form a very nice smile. And he was oh so fair. But going back though - by pretty he means the eyes man, the eyes. It was like the oceans of Costa del Sol were compressed in that two blue orbs of his and all he wanted was to just dive into it. Oh how he loved the beach…

Zack felt like all the red lights in his head turned green.

After like an embarrassingly long enough moment had passed, Zack finally remembered he's got a mouth. (A little busy there aren't we? He smacked his internal voice shut.) "I.. Uh- how may I help you?" No response. He brought up his right hand to run his fingers onto his hair. A small sign of discomfort. After what seemed like another eternity, the blonde boy had finally answered. "My cat is getting upset. Can you turn down the music?"

Cloud don't have any cats. When he walked out once again from his apartment he just wanted to tell his lively neighbors to tone it down. Because believe it or not, he needs to sleep. So there he went, after months of patience and sleepless nights, he finally had enough. He wanted to ask whomever idiot it was to be a little civilized. But hey, what if it was a woman though? He actually never thought about that possibility. About ten strides later, he knocked on the door to the room beside his own. What came out though thankfully, is unmistakably, a male. Or shall we say rather, a very, attractive male that he was. He was considerably about a foot taller than him, with a very well built body. His blue-knitted sweater and blue sweatpants was snug in all the right directions, accentuating his muscular parts. If you can look past his body though, then, you'd be able to see his more attractive face. Tan, smooth, clean-shaved, angular jaw, full lips. Literally, tall, dark (not quite) and handsome. He got this very, very spiky hair going on, well it's not like his hair's not spiky but his was more.. how can he say it? Wild? It was the darkest of blacks and is longer most likely at the back. It makes his sky-blue eyes pop under the lit corridor. Many people had complimented Cloud for his blue eyes, saying how pretty and deep of a blue they were and some shit. But the blue of his eyes were like the opposite of his, for it was like the vast, vast sky above that can swallow him whole. Damn. He mentally slapped himself for staring too much.

After what he hoped was not an awkward moment of silence, the raven-haired guy had finally asked him what he wants. He looked like he did not know what to say. Was it just his imagination or is he staring at him too? He watched as he then lifts his right hand and runs it through his dark, dark locks. Cloud doesn't know if he wanted to bolt right then and there or step closer. He has never been so conflicted his whole life.

He looked.. It looked so effortlessly sexy.

Cloud fought an internal battle to not give him another once-over.

Maybe he should get a cat.

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