[A/N: second instalment of Tent Week! Hopefully I should have one more to contribute, if I get time what with going back to school D': oh, how I hate it.

Anyways, that boy who was arguing with Gen certainly has some guts, ne? xD

Enjoy~!]

Midnight Show

Angeal sighed and added another marshmallow onto the skewer he held negligently in one hand. "You know, Seph," he said in a weary tone of voice, "I think it's going to be a long night."

Next to him and also huddling close to the small burner they'd set up, Sephiroth shuddered and nodded, casting a vicious glance upwards. "I'd be inclined to believe you."

The night was clear and cold, diamante stars glittering down above the mako glow of Midgar. Nearer to them, bright streetlights flooded the road with harsh yellow light; pools of light attracted little mingling groups of scarf-wrapped people of all different sizes and classes but all sharing the same earnest expression. The hum of conversation and debate suffused the night, spiking occasionally as viewpoints conflicted and voices rose in vehement dispute.

Unlike if this scene had been set anywhere else in Midgar, none of the altercations came to blows – they merely burnt out after a few exchanges and simmered down to venomous glances and contempt. However, this rule seemed close to being broken – over the other side of the street from the two exasperated SOLDIERs, a certain lithe redhead was gesticulating wildly, his voice carrying over to the row of tents huddled against the wall.

"No, you imbecile! The missing act serves to deepen the meaning of the play, it does not detract from it!"

"The last act can't have been left out on purpose, it would simply defeat the object of the whole work!"

Genesis Rhapsodos, the Scarlet Commander, stamped his foot and levelled one finger menacingly at his ruddy assailant. "I think I have been studying Loveless since before you were even born, boy, so you have no right to contradict me!"

As the younger man puffed up his chest and let loose a stream of language more suited to a dockside tavern in Junon than the crowd of literature-fanatics here, Angeal rolled his eyes and set down his food, getting to his feet as Sephiroth groaned in irritation.

"Peacemakers again, it seems," the silver-haired SOLDIER grumbled, unfolding off his seat on the pavement to make his way across the street. He waved to Angeal to stay where he was, and the older gratefully obeyed; according to his count, this was the eighteenth time they'd had to intervene with Genesis since setting up camp this morning.

"Why are we even doing this, Gen?" Sephiroth had asked as the redhead thrust a large tent kit onto him and swept around the apartment to gather up the last of his things. "You're a SOLDIER First-Class. You're their best customer. And you've reserved a copy of the new edition of Loveless. So it is entirely unnecessary for us to…" He cast a demeaning look at the bag of canvas in his arms. "… camp out to wait for its release."

With a sigh, Genesis handed a rucksack to Angeal, who was waiting patiently – he'd been immunised to the redhead's demands long ago. "You're missing the point again, Seph," he complained. "I want to experience the atmosphere, the anticipation! I want to be able to talk to other people who have actually read the play…" He sniffed derisively. "Unlike some."

"Atmosphere? How many people will bother turning up?" Angeal had asked Sephiroth as they trudged down through the ShinRa building and out to the bookshop in Sector Three. The other had shrugged and continued on stoically, shooting occasional icy glances at the redhead.

"With any luck, just us," he said bitterly, proved wrong when they turned the corner to see a flowering line of tents hurriedly propped against the shop wall. Several glances were thrown their way, but unaccompanied by the usual screams of delight and scraps of paper shoved at them; to the contrary, the scraggly crowd gathered seemed entirely unimpressed at their arrival.

"Hmph. Proved wrong," Angeal muttered, and then followed Genesis to where he was 'persuading' a group to shift their tent further from the door. The disinterested glances turned to irritation as the insistent Commander shooed them out of the way and waved for the other two to begin setting up, protecting the newly-won space like some kind of overzealous guard dog. With an apologetic shrug from Angeal and cold indifference from Sephiroth, the new tent was set up…

… and that was where the two had stayed for fourteen hours now, as Genesis engaged in heated debate with the other attendants scattered around the Sector Five bookshop.

"Genesis, leave him alone now," Sephiroth sighed, calmly stepping in front of the apoplectic commander. Behind him, he heard a mutter of "I don't need you to help", but ignored it stoically and concentrated on subduing Genesis before the street went up in flames.

"… and I suppose you paid attention to that idiot Smith who thinks he can write an analysis of it?" Genesis continued arguing, completely ignoring Sephiroth's presence. The target of his yell turned back from where he had started walking away.

"So what if I did?! His suggestions make much more sense than yours!"

Before the hint of heated air around Genesis' right hand could solidify into a ball of fire, Sephiroth seized his wrist and, with no consideration for the redhead's dignity (probably a mistake) or for what the onlookers would see, dragged him back towards Angeal and the tent. Screeching in indignation, Genesis fought back until Sephiroth virtually threw him through the unzipped door onto the air-filled mattress and with a smirk at a stunned Angeal followed him in.

Inside, Genesis resembled some kind of livid, explosive feline – eyes blazing in rage, he gathered himself from where he'd fallen on the ground and jabbed an accusing finger at Sephiroth.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Sephiroth?" he spat, virtually quivering in fury. "You can't just—"

"You were acting like a spoilt child, Genesis, as usual," Sephiroth replied icily, settling with his back to the tent opening to prevent the redhead from escaping. "I merely stopped you from making more of a fool of yourself."

Genesis laughed bitterly. "Oh, so I should thank you then? Always the tactful one."

Quelling the sharp tang of anger that rose in his throat – it would only intensify rather than defuse the situation – Sephiroth shook his head. "In any case, that boy was not worth your time."

"Damn right he wasn't," Genesis sniffed, crossing his arms in contempt. "Stupid child, pretending he knows as much as I do…"

As he began mumbling more to himself – consisting mainly of half-formed insults and criticisms – Sephiroth let a slight smile creep across his lips, hiding it immediately as Genesis looked up, the blind anger slowly dissipating from his expression.

"This isn't because of you," he asserted quickly, "I'm just…"

"Looking forwards to the opening. Of course." Sephiroth shook his head again, marvelling at how simple and yet how complicated his lover was. Judging it safe, he approached Genesis, crawling in the confined space, and pressed his lips gently to the redhead's neck. "Now, how can we while away the time until then?"

His discontent completely forgotten, Genesis twined his fingers into Sephiroth's hair and leaned his head back to give the other better access to his neck. "It seems you have some ideas…"

-

In the warm afterglow, Genesis finally let his breath out in an explosive sigh after having to withhold his usual vocals, and played idly with a strand of silver.

"Hmmm, I wonder how long there is left to wait now…" he mused absentmindedly, and then suddenly bolted upright, pushing Sephiroth off in the process. "Seph, there's no noise outside."

The general made some incoherent noise and pushed himself lazily over to the tent door, shrugging his shirt back on as he unzipped the tent flap enough to meet Angeal's frantic gaze.

"Seph, Seph, he's going to kill us."

Sephiroth was immediately alert, dressing himself properly before emerging out of the tent entirely, managing to look as unruffled as he had before entering. Angeal hustled him away to a safe distance from the canvas structure, and cast frequent glances over his shoulder as he leant close to Sephiroth and whispered

"You missed the opening! Everyone's already been and gone now—"

"What's going on?" came a muffled inquiry from inside the tent, clearer as Genesis poked his head out. "Where…" There was a laden pause as he looked around the now-empty street, punctuated only with a few other tents of those who could not get home at this time of night; and a gaggle of people under the nearest lamp, all holding crisp new copies of a certain book. "… has everyone gone?"

As those cerulean eyes came to rest on him, it was all Sephiroth – veteran of countless conflicts, virtual friend of the Reaper, the Silver General who was afraid of nothing, human or beast – could do not to run and hide as swiftly as he could. There was silence, and then Angeal gently rested his hand on Sephiroth's shoulder as a comfort.

"For once… I don't envy you, Seph. I'll see what's left of you in the morning."