Hot Chocolate

Disclaimer: the creation of this small story does not in no way imply that I am the creator of Final Fantasy VII, nor its characters.

Shivering. He can feel his shoulders quiver, his hands beginning to turn blue from cold, his lips becoming chapped in the bitter wind. He can feel everything come to life in his body, beginning to burn and shake from frost. Midgar was never forgiving, that much was for certain. It was almost saddening, that even after being raised in the cold of Nibelheim, Cadet Strife still couldn't handle temperatures below freezing. He cursed to himself quietly as his finger twitched on the trigger of his standard issue rifle, unable to be controlled as he shook from the cold.

"Fuck." It burned to even speak. Opening his mouth only led him to almost cracking his lips, blood barely resisting to burst behind their sharp pink hues. The cadet uniform wasn't good enough to keep out the cold at night; Cloud had noticed this almost immediately. Being on the night patrol wasn't fun, constantly marching at the ramparts of the giant technological city, freezing his ass off with nothing but a pale, mint green scarf to keep him warm. It was all just bullshit. He had learned that all too quickly.

"Is it really worth being here?" He grew to wonder solemnly, stopping his march finally after a solid hour. The only thing illuminating his path was the solid moon, not a single, shimmering star glittering in the sky. That was the problem with Midgar—smoke constantly plumed from the city, destroying any chance of seeing anything up there clearly. Sometimes, it was pitch black out here when the smoke would overwhelm the moon, cloaking the capital of this world with its own hidden darkness. Darkness that little Cadet Strife didn't know about yet.

But that is not the point of this story. No, the point here was that Cloud wasn't sure at all if he even belonged at this point, in some world that was obviously too different from his own. In a way, he couldn't help but say that he loved it here. After all, he got to see posters of his regular heroes, the SOLDIER First Class, without trouble. He got the headlining news with sudden speed, he got top-notch training in how to become a better man by none other than his drill sergeant, and most importantly, sometimes if he glanced hard enough through his binoculars, he'd be able to get to see the Demon of Wutai himself, the Great General Sephiroth. Capital letters and all.

Regardless of all of those things, it didn't change the fact that Cloud felt undeniably lonely here. Sure, he didn't have many friends in Nibelheim either, but at least he had his mother. At least the teenage girl whom he had sworn to become a hero for, Tifa Lockhart, acknowledged his presence from time to time with a friendly look in her eye. But here: all he got were a few grunts from fellow cadets, terrible bullying (he had gotten acquainted with the swirly here and they had become swift friends in the process), and constant insults on his skills and whether or not he was adequate. Yes, Cloud Strife could grudgingly admit that he was considered inadequate to everyone here. Not a soul believed in him making it past the exams and becoming a SOLDIER 3rd Class. If he got lucky, some would joke, the little blond would get to be part of the militia. It brought a bitter taste into his mouth.

He came here to become a hero. Not to just stand around at night, looking over the massive walls protecting Midgar and most importantly, Shinra. Cloud had made a promise to become something and prove everyone in his hometown wrong—he really could amount to something! It was the one thing still feeding his determination, for his willpower was known to be exceptionally strong, even by his worst of enemies. The 'Chocobo' as he had begun to be called, was stubborn and wouldn't let anyone break him from his wild, wild roots. At least that put a smirk on his lips. Of course, this caused him to wince. That was a little too much. The corner of his lips finally cracked, a few drops of blood beginning to drip down their pink outlines and onto the corner of his mouth. "Shit," he mumbled, lightly applying pressure to his lip with the scarf around his neck. "One night out here and my lips are already bleeding…What a fine SOLDIER I'll turn out to be."

The last thing Cloud had expected, especially at this hour, was to hear a sardonic laugh because of what he had said. Or was it a giggle? Regardless of what the sounds of joy could be characterized as, the cadet could instantly find out its source. It came from a handsome man, that much Cloud could admit, who had become his only friend through sheer accident. A Second Class with as much maxi as the Chocobo—well, that was the slightest bit inaccurate since the figure was known to be even more bullheaded than Strife himself—the man stood there in his SOLDIER uniform, a sword strapped onto his back above his purple, sleeveless turtle neck and his black, baggy pants with the combat boots strapped to his feet. The funny thing was, this SOLDIER arguably had even more wild locks than Cloud. It was almost as if lightning had struck the male's hair, causing his raven tendrils to streak back like thorns. "They really do put a number on you cadets, don't they Cloudy?" The masculine voice uttered, puppy-like joy clearly evident in his words. Oh, Zack Fair…

The 2nd Class's eyes narrowed, with their mako-enhanced depths, capable of seeing through even the harshest of darkness. Zack could easily see the blood beginning to trail from Cloud's lips and already the SOLDIER was visibly showing his disapproval. He had his arms crossed, mouth set in a slight snarl, with a wild look settling in the man's eyes. "Did somebody hurt you again?" Zack implored, protectiveness radiating off of his question in waves. It caused Cloud's eyes to widen just the slightest, but beyond his control, he found himself lightly chuckling. It only made Zack's eyes cloud with a little bit of hurt as more bite entered his tone. "Seriously Cloud, tell me who it was and I'll knock them five days all the way to Monday. They won't even get to have Sunday off because I knocked them that far!"

"Zack," Cloud had finally begun to reply, shaking his head with a fond look appearing on the cadet's face. Correction from earlier: he did have at least one person who cared about him here. "Nobody hit me. It's just freezing cold out and my upper lip cracked just because it got chapped out here. It's no big deal." The cadet shrugged when he finished with his answer, sending Zack a look that said as politely as possible to "fuck off." It caused the SOLDIER to roll his eyes, walking closer to Cloud so he was right in front of the other, before lightly flicking the cadet on the forehead.

The teen yelped in surprise, rubbing his offending battle injury, glaring at Zack. "Hey, what was that for?" He growled, blinking as the little dizziness seemed to subside from his skin, leaving only a dull throb. SOLDIER's were unnaturally strong…

"It's because you're ridiculous," Zack spoke with snark, ruffling Cloud's soft hair without care for the teen's reaction. "It's way too warm out here." And it was Cloud's turn to finally roll his eyes—no matter how feminine that may have seemed to others. Why was he not surprised that Zack would be the one to say this to him? They both knew that mako naturally increased the body temperature of the affected in certain situations, effectively making him cold resistant. And just because of Zack's apparent forgetfulness, the cadet lightly punched the other on the shoulder with an annoyed look crossing his irises.

"Not all of us can be human heaters," Cloud retorted, instantly crossing his arms. Oh, this man… He really did like him—seriously, he was the only friend he had—but the way he could nonchalantly forget that not everyone has been as enhanced as he is was slightly annoying. Zack had barely reacted to the punch, only allowing a faux expression of hurt to cross his features. He raised an arm to his chest, lightly touching his heart with an extreme amount of femininity.

"Oh, I'm so hurt! I'm going to go down; oh, no! I'm dying! All because cute, little Cloudy decided to punch me!" The puppy of SOLDIER began to chuckle softly, grabbing the other to roughly mess with the blond's hair. Cloud let out indignant squawks before forcing himself away from the overly affectionate monster. Rather than resort back to violence, the boy decided that it was time to just let it be. Besides, it was a lot less lonely up here with Zack anyway.

Eventually, he found himself just sitting on the ramparts with the SOLDIER right next to him, who continued to rant away even if didn't receive a single reply. The black-haired man didn't care for the silence from the other, a look of genuine joy on his features as he ranted about the exploits of Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth. It made a quiet smile appear on Cloud's lips, the chapped feeling long forgotten. Earlier, when he thought he was the coldest he's ever been—all of that had started to quickly fade. His fingertips began to warm up as they lay placed right next to Zack's, his inner core getting heated by the exuberant aura surrounding the other. Yes, he wanted to be a hero. He wanted to go back to Nibelheim with his head held high, without a shadow of doubt in anyone's mind that he deserved to be where he was at. But here, sitting so closely to his friend in quiet intimacy, with the other ranting away with words that didn't even really matter in the end, Cloud couldn't help but feel like Zack would become the biggest hero of them all. Even greater than Sephiroth himself.

So deep in his thoughts he was, that he didn't even notice when the distance was closed even more until he felt Zack's arm wrapping around his left shoulder, pulling him closer. He made a small sound of surprise, looking up into the other's mako eyes. A smirk was on the Second Class's lips, playfulness entering his eyes. "What are you doing?" That was the first thing that Cloud could say in this situation, slightly paralyzed. What they were doing…was almost like hugging. He could feel his heart begin to pulse faster in his chest, beating loud until it was the only thing he could hear drumming in his ears. He saw a cloud of breath leave Zack's mouth as he opened his lips, only to close them almost immediately again. But Zack was never good at keeping thoughts to himself.

"You seemed cold," he remarked with a shrug, lightly pulling Cloud even closer to his chest. Warm. That's what it felt like. Warmer than the summers in Nibelheim, warmer than the smile that could barely reach Tifa's eyes. "So, I thought, hey! If Cloudy's so cold, but I'm so warm, why don't I just give him a nice hug? I'll happily donate my body heat to the cause." The way it was said, almost too matter of fact, gave off the appearance of just friendliness. It made Cloud's mind rush with disappointment, though he wouldn't show it. Why show that kind of thinking anyway when someone was so close? The response that the blond was dying to say never left his mouth because he felt almost impossibly warm. He just hummed quietly, feeling comfortable to just lean into the other's embrace.

"Maybe I could make you some hot chocolate when we're done here to get you all warmed up," Zack offered, but he was instantly greeted by a sharp shake of Cloud's head. A small smile appeared on the cadet's lips. It wasn't needed—Zack was warmer than hot chocolate.

It was worth being here for just a while longer.