This one was inspired by something Fly showed me a while back, but I did not have the time to get into it until now. As for the next chapter of Gunmetal, it's coming - I promise.
Once again, I assure that there is no pairing here. If my writing implied otherwise, please don't break your brain over it.
Growing up and raising the trio of children, Cid admittedly knew that Leon was getting to that age where having his own room and his own bed was more appropriate. Regardless, it was not in his budget – cash-wise, time-wise and effort-wise – to get him those, and he had already gotten used to having the boy sleep next to him, just as Aerith got used to having Yuffie next to her. For people finally settling into a completely new place and way of life, setting aside for rainy days was only natural.
Of course, with all he had expected and rationalized about, Cid still woke up with a confused start one night to find his breathing a little more constricted than usual. Looking down, he found Leon snuggled against his chest, something he had deemed "childish" and stopped since hitting thirteen. Fingers curled tighter in his shirt as the boy nuzzled in closer, and Cid decided to just give up and go back to sleep – immature brats would be immature little-
Then he felt something that was wet, warm and definitely not a finger probe at him, and his eyes opened so fast and so wide that they could pop. This time, he did not look down as he felt the object of his terror slide over his chest, getting way too close to areas they should not. Oblivious to the situation at hand, Leon kept licking his guardian's chest, leaving wet trails over the shirt and softly groaning in pleasure.
When he felt teeth latch onto the cotton material and start to bite down, Cid decided that enough was enough.
"WAKE THE FLAMING CRAP UP, BOY!"
At first, Leon barely responded, his eyes cracking open to blearily register what was happening. Then his brain took a few seconds to inform him of what he was seeing, and then a few more to kindly tell him exactly what that meant. With a panicked yelp, Leon shot backwards across the bed, eyes wide and face red. With a distinct 'click', the table lamp dimly illuminated the room.
"Hell in Gaia's g'damned name were ya doin', kid?!" Cid demanded sharply, his hand scrubbing feverishly and ineffectively over the front of his shirt. As Squall sputtered and stuttered apologies or explanations – he could not decipher which it was – he finally grabbed the bottom of the now offensive article and prepared to just rip it off him. That shirt made it three inches before his hand froze again. The man stopped, looking from the damp stains to the boy to the stains over and over again. Something clicked in his head, and the shirt suddenly became a low priority.
"I just… I was dreaming, and… it was-" Leon was cut off swiftly by a firm pair of hands clapping down on his shoulders. He blinked and stared up at the now serious expression on the other's face.
"Squall, tell me."
"I'm Leon, Cid."
"And I give a shit about that. Tell me, boy… Are you gay?"
Leon choked in his shock. "What?"
"Damn boy, ya know when two people love each other very much and do the stick'n-thumpin', just that one ain't a girl and they don't make a baby and no one cares?"
"That has nothing to do with this!" Leon protested a little too limply, still shell-shocked by the suddenness of the question. Cid, meanwhile, was miles away with his own train of thoughts. Finally, he concluded them:
"Hell damn, it actually makes sense."
This time, it was Leon's eyes that popped. "It what?!"
"Shut up, boy – it's obvious now. All this time, you never dirty-talking, never cussing with those other punks in the district, always hanging 'bout the girls and takin' care of things in the house. Hell, I ain't ever seen ya talk about or to a girl that ain't Aerith or Yuffie…!"
"That doesn't-"
"Then you with the shitload of belts and the zippers and the leather and the attitude and the hair…"
"That isn't-"
"Why din't ya jus' tell me, boy?"
The red on Leon's face had darkened drastically, and he turned away while hugging himself defensively. "There… is nothing… to talk about."
"This ain't bloody nothing, kid. This is about you!"
"And I'm telling you it's nothing."
An awkward silence filled the room, Leon breathing heavily and still hugging himself as he firmly averted his eyes from his guardian. Cid, on the other hand, stopped… He only observed what was before him now, and at last reached his next conclusion. Taking a deep breath, he scratched the back of his neck before speaking again.
"… Shit, boy, I ain't judgin' ya. I wasn't gonna judge."
"There's nothing to judge," Leon growled back.
"Kid, it's okay. I don't care what makes ya chicken dance. Hell, I don't think the girls will give a shit, either. This thing…it changes nothin' about this…family, ya hear?"
Leon opened his mouth to say something, but again was interrupted by Cid's hand turning his head to face him once more.
"That's right, I bloody said it. We're family, and if something's tearing this family apart, it's you telling me to quit smokin', or burning my ship to the g'damned ground, or runnin' out on this damn shithole of a house cos' it ain't good enough for ya no more. But this ain't gonna be it. Ain't never gonna be it."
Leon fell silent, the words dying. Finally, he gave his reply, "…thanks… I guess…"
"Now tell me who ya were dreamin' about," Cid demanded fiercely. "Was it someone who lives here, or from back home? Maybe you were for the home team back then already, I'unno… Does he know about this? No, stuff that. Just give me the name of the guy who's humpin' my boy."
"Cid, I…"
"Name, NOW."
"… …" Again Leon fell silent, his head bowed. Cid squeezed the boy's shoulders in what he hoped was enough reassurance.
"I said no judgin'. I just want a g'damn name."
"… …sandwich."
The hands went limp as dead fish at once, and Cid did not flinch as Leon brushed them off easily. "…san…wha…?"
"I was dreaming… about a giant sandwich…" Leon answered slowly between deep breaths. "I was hungry… and the sauce was dripping… from between the bread slices…"
Cid tried to speak in answer, but nothing came to him. Leon sighed deeply and rubbed his face in his hands before turning away.
"I'm sorry it was you and not the pillow."
With that, the younger man burrowed back under the comforter and pulled it over his head. More awkward silence reigned, but for a different reason. As he remained sitting up with his shirt starting to dry in the night air, Cid came to another thought.
"…did ya just imply I was gettin' lumpy?"
"I'm asleep."
The next morning, Cid dedicated his waking hours to clearing out what had previously been a large storage closet. With a little elbow grease, it was easily transformed into a room that would fit anything Leon needed. All that remained was the hunt through the stores for a proper bed the boy could use.
Exhausted but satisfied, the man took his usual place at the table for breakfast. On his right, Leon was understandably silent, preferring to keep his attention on the eggs he was eating. Mumbling his thanks at the sound of coffee hitting his mug, Cid took a sip from it to wake himself up.
"Gotta ask ya somethin', Aerith," he muttered. "Do gay boys dream about giant effin' sandwiches?"
A high-pitched squeal did the job that the sip's worth of coffee failed to. At an equally piercing cry of "SQUALL IS WHAT?!" Cid realized it was not Aerith he had directed the question to at all. In a flash, Yuffie was out the door and preaching the news at an unappreciated volume, and Leon had his face in his hands once more.
"… Whoops."
