Raincheck
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Teaser: "And the more I looked at him, drenched in champagne and just a touch of darkness in his eyes, the more I wanted to chase down every drop with my tongue.
Oh, so that's my type: the guy who wants to beat my ass. No way that could go wrong."
Inspiration: Kinda wanted to write one more fic, just to give 2017 the finger on the way out. So here's a new year's fic. Let's see what damage I can do.
Rating: T? I don't know.
Warnings:
-Drinking
-Office Parties
-Champagne
-Fluff
-Shy Cloud, Outgoing Zack
Main Pairing: Zackary Fair/Cloud Strife
Setting: AU, where most of them still work for Shinra but I'm not sure exactly what they do? I didn't feel like I needed to iron that out for this shortie.
POV: Cloud and Zack share, in pretty equal parts, actually. First Person.
Summary: Sometimes, you just need to take a raincheck from reality. When champagne and a collision bring Cloud and Zack together, it might take a little help from their friends to give these two men a happy new year.
Additional ANs: I know, I know: it's been a long freaking time and I'm sorry, okay? Life handed me lemons (not the fun kind) and stress and all that shitty stuff, so I'm coping, loves.
But I wanted to write a fic for the New Year, to give 2017 the finger on the way out.
I really wasn't expecting this pairing, actually. Then again, Zack and Cloud have long been one of my favorite pairings, so I shouldn't be surprised. This story seems to come with a game of "Guess the Shinra Employee", though in this story Cloud doesn't actually work for them .
Also, not used to writing a shier Cloud, though I think some of the things I do when I'm nervous have rubbed off on him. Forgive me, Cloud-senpai~ XD
Word Count:6241 words
It was snowing and I was pretty sure that this New Year's Eve couldn't get much worse.
Angeal was meant to be my date for New Year's Eve. It always turned into a quiet evening at home, catching up with each other and enjoying some of our favorite foods. Our long-standing tradition was to welcome in the new year with a friendly kiss and if I were honest, I had been looking forward to it after a year of shitty luck in the dating pool. Even with no romantic chemistry to speak of, Geal was one hell of a kisser. And it wasn't like someone else was waiting to kiss me at midnight.
Unfortunately for my best laid plans, Genesis caught the flu. Incredibly used to being coddled every time he took ill, Gen was an absolute child every single time he got so much as a sniffle. His de factor caretaker tended to be whoever he suckered into it or whoever had a steak in the apartment surviving the night. Angeal had apologized profusely into the phone, explaining that someone had to make sure his boyfriend didn't accidentally kill himself or someone else, set fire to their apartment, or create some cataclysmic world ending device by accident.
"I'll make it up to you, Zack," my best friend of a decade promised.
I'm not saying that I didn't understand where he was coming from. There had been more than one night I had plans with him that I ended up staying home and caring for another friend or changing a flat tire for Aerith or keeping someone from killing their liver. It just stung a bit, especially since it had been a long time since Geal and I had gotten to have a night out or a night in. He'd settled into his happily ever after with his capricious playwright of a boyfriend: I just didn't get much of his time, anymore.
Either way, I really hadn't wanted to mope around at home. Say what you will, but there comes a time in a person's life where they actually need social interaction. So when Sephiroth had asked me what my plans were, I had been honest. Maybe too honest. I knew better than to be that honest with Seph. Because Sephiroth being himself –the man, the myth, the legend, the controlling asshole– I really hadn't gotten much of a choice once he found out my plans had fallen through.
Honestly, I'm not sure how that left me dressed in my best shirt and alone at some bar the Shinra Company had bought out for the night.
The music was cranked twice as loud as it should have been, a throbbing roar that I would have been able to hear –and feel– three doors down. Dancing was a given: however, discretion seemed to be optional, judging by the lap-dance the wild red-headed Reno was giving his staid superior. The lap-dance wasn't that much of a surprise: that Tseng was allowing it without much more than and token protest was almost alarming. The alcohol was plentiful and of a better quality than I usually indulged in. There was a pretty brunette bombshell of a bartended that Reno's partner Rude was not only eying but flirting with. Of course, it was probably more of a surprise that Rude was the only one flirting with her, as most anyone with a pulse and a passing interest in female anatomy would have been all over her.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I scuffed up my dark spiky hair and wondered why I felt so far out of my element here. I did the bar crawl for Saint Patrick's day, complete with glowing green beer and shots of whiskey that left me aching the morning after. Everyone here was a friend or a coworker, someone I should feel comfortable with. I normally just… avoided office parties, because someone inevitably drank too much or it was just awkward. Surveying the crowd, I rounded it up to three counts of each as I tried not to look too close at the way the heir to the company was eyeing the man who'd drug me to this Shiva-forsaken mess.
Can this night get any worse? I wondered as I moved to the storefront picture window.
It seemed it could, I observed as thick heavy flakes fell at a steady pace.
A contractor by trade, there was little more I hated than snow. For one thing, the bitter cold that maintained the white flecks currently falling gracefully from the sky? Yeah, those temperatures woke up every old injury I had ever owned. My knees ached and my ankles throbbed and I literally just hated winter. As for snow, well, people forgot how to drive as soon as a flake hit the ground. People either drove way too fast or crawled along at a snail's pace. Winter weather was not conducive to getting anywhere on time, even with the four-wheel drive behemoth I favored.
Grumbling to myself, I turned to gather my things and get the hell out of here before I got trapped with everyone and their 'merry making'. Of course, that was when I had to collide with someone else.
"Oh, gods, I'm so sorry," I blurted out before even looking at the person I'd run into. Once I did, I found out fury could burn cold in the brightest sky blue eyes I had ever seen.
Because I had just run into a pretty blond man who appeared to be carrying a tray of champagne. Unfortunately, there wasn't a drop remaining in the glasses any longer –although, surprisingly the glasses seemed intact. Because every single bit of it was splattered across his chest.
And the more I looked at him, drenched in champagne and just a touch of darkness in his eyes, the more I wanted to chase down every drop with my tongue.
Oh, so that's my type: the guy who wants to beat my ass. No way that could go wrong.
It was New Year's Eve and I was pretty sure my life couldn't get much worse.
Tifa should never have allowed someone to book Seventh Heaven for a New Year's party. None of her staff were interested in working it: they all pled off with colds, long set plans, or simply calling off. I'd been looking forward to a quiet night in front of the fire with a good book, but when my best friend called me, desperate for help and offering to pay me a full wage on top of tips, I wasn't quite enough of a bastard to tell her no. of course, after tonight, I'd have to learn to be a bigger bastard.
To add insult to injury, she waited until I arrived to tell me it was Shinra who had bought out the bar for the night. I had a long and unfortunate history with the company, beginning with the way they had bought out my father's business and there was no end in sight. There was a lot of bitterness in me when it came to the company, and I was not looking forward to waiting on their elite staff. But I had agreed to help, so I dutifully donned my white shirt, black pants, and black apron. I drew the line at the shinny black loafers, substituting in my bike boots because I knew I would need the traction. Of all the things I had ever been called, 'graceful' was not among them. In fact, 'graceless' was by far one of the most flattering words that had been tossed my way.
Some of the men and women in attendance were too beautiful to be real. In order to calm my seizing nerves, I told myself they weren't: they were patrons and I was under as much influence as they were. It would have been easier if they weren't so odd. A sexy redhead with facial tattoos and a long drawl had tried to convince me to crawl into another man's lap for a lap dance. He had shrugged at my flat refusal and promptly crawled into the dark-haired man's lap himself. The guy looked a touch overwhelmed, but he recovered well enough to down another short of whiskey and suffer the redhead's attentions. A lonely blond girl drank alone in the corner, with a stoic face and strong shoulders as she tossed back shot after shot. I was concerned only so much as I had to keep up with her drinks and probably cut her off before the party hit the second hour mark. The muscular man with the shaved head and a perpetual pair of shades had slid up to the bar to flirt with Tifa. She wasn't one to giggle and titter, thank all the gods, but she was definitely affected by the words and the charm, and I wondered how smart it was to leave her to her own devices.
The board was all accounted for: the man-eater in her flashy red dress, the not-so-closet nerd who fiddled with anything with moving parts, and two scientists that apparently served some function to result in their tenure. The scientists were getting drunk and arguing quietly in the corner, which I could ignore for now. The faux siren lounged at the edge of the bar, disinterested by the expensive white wine she'd ordered and far too interested in watching the men around the room. Her gaze on me was brief but still left me feeling like I needed a shower. As far as I could see, the geek turned inventor was the only one staying sober tonight. Or at least, the only one ordering drinks and staying sober. There had been a few others around the room that hadn't placed an order yet, but geek chic "please call me Reeve" was consistent in sticking with his ginger ale and the intriguing robot arm he'd brought with him.
The only person missing, as far as I could tell, was Shinra himself. The heads of the two divisions, both of which bore a striking resemblance to the old man though only one was a claimed son, were sitting together with a few stragglers –a tall man with a fall of silver hair despite the youth in his face who had to be Sephiroth Crescent, the best public face of the company; the serene man who had endured the redhead's lap dance had migrated over along with a brunette woman who definitely seemed to be one of his associates; and the one who looked out of place, a young man with ink black hair that stuck up in all the directions, whose entire demeanor all but screamed he didn't want to be here. I felt for him, honestly –but only for a moment, because I had to fetch that a shot for the lovely blond woman and a ginger ale for Reeve.
It just so happened that I managed to deliver those two drinks a moment before I was summoned by the bored scion of the company I hated. Apparently, to people who aren't me and don't care about the hangover to follow, New Year's Eve meant champagne for everyone. Didn't matter much to me: the only one Tifa carried was hideously expensive and I wasn't footing the bill. So I swallowed back my sneer and went to the bar to pour the glasses. I should have remembered thirteen was an unlucky number, but with the tips I was collecting, it hardly felt like it was unlucky.
So two bottles of champagne and an over-burdened tray later, I approached the head table to serve the executives first. I imagined if young Shinra was footing this bill, he deserved to have his champagne first. I managed to serve the first few glasses with no problem, though I noticed that the dark-haired man I had empathized with earlier had abandoned his seat. I moved to the next bar to set a glass down where I knew it would be ignored. Turning around to take it on to the next table, I ran smack into someone.
"Oh, gods, I'm so sorry," I heard, the voice deep and smooth and blunting some of the humiliation I was currently enduring. My poor shirt was soaked in champagne and did nothing to keep me warm. Shivering, uncomfortable, and still a bit angry I got roped into this, I looked up and met the most faultless pair of cerulean eyes.
Words wouldn't even come out of me –no biting anger or cringing embarrassment. All I could do was look at that lovely face and wonder if my night could get any worse.
The pretty blond man had yet to say anything, though the darker edge in his eyes seemed to be fading away as a shiver pulled clear through his willowy frame.
"Oh! Cloud," the bartender cried out, rounding the bar with a towel and half a cringe. She wrapped the towel around his shoulders and pulled him against her, as though to share her warmth. "I'm sorry about that, sir. Poor Cloud is the only person who didn't call off on me tonight, so he's been running around like crazy to keep up with the orders."
The man, apparently named Cloud, muttered something toward the bartender and she shushed him, cuddling him closer to her full figure and easing him toward the back room.
"It was probably my fault," I returned to her retreating form. "I obviously wasn't watching where I was going."
The blond looked up, stilling the woman's motions effortlessly as he just looked at me for a long moment.
"I'm sorry," I added, sincere as ever. I wondered if I should offer to pay for what looked like an entire bottle of champagne, but I figured I would leave that up to the generosity of my employer. Rufus thought that huge bills were great ways to stick it to his old man, because it hit him "in what he cares about most: his pocket book", as Rufus tended to say.
He finally let himself be evacuated back by the bartender –who also seemed to be the bar owner. She returned shortly, murmuring something about him changing his shirt as Rufus beckoned her over to his table. I watched the conversation from the fringes, seeing the slight kindness that worked at the edges of Rufus's eyes at the widened protest in the lovely woman's face. Finally, I watched consent dawn over her face, a nod and a grateful smile soon to follow.
I diverted my attention to the glass of water I had gotten much earlier in the evening, taking a long sip of it. It seemed I had found someone of interest –only to dump champagne on them. If I was lucky, not having to pay for the whole bottle might soften him up a bit. I wasn't banking on being that lucky, but a guy can dream.
He emerged a bit later, wearing a tight black t-shirt advertising some hot Midgar band and even hotter muscles that had been hidden by the loose fit of the white dress-shirt. Gods above, it was a wonder I wasn't having to wipe drool off my chin. Enjoying the cut of this shirt aside, the black color gave him a little edgier look with his flashing eyes. His hair looked ethereal, his eyes bottomless, and it was somehow easy to forget he wasn't even six feet tall, which I imagined had a lot to do with attitude.
Biding my time wasn't easy for me. I guess you could say I'm a pretty straight-forward guy: when I see something or someone I want, I do my best to win them over with my tenacity and all over geniality. Beating around the bush or hiding in the shadows were not for me. So staying away from the one person in the room who held my interest was difficult, to say the least.
I cradled a drink I had gone up to the bar to retrieve, carefully sipping the whiskey and feeling it burn all the way down. Since it was my first drink tonight, it wouldn't hit me too hard and I had needed something to do with my hands while I waited for the party to wane.
The crowd was thinning. Elena had been carried out by Tseng and Reno together while she protested with slurred words. Reeve decided his duty in attending the party was well-passed and abandoned his seat at the bar to return to his lab. I wasn't sure when Professor Hojo had snuck out, dragging Doctor Gast with him. Scarlet had left in search of better people to intimidate or seduce, whichever struck her fancy at the time. As the drink orders slowed, I watched him wander a bit aimlessly, eyes flicking back to check on Rude who was still flirting with the pretty bartender and looking a little flushed.
I walked up to the picture window, watching the snow fall and wondering how everyone had faired getting home. It was coming down fast and accumulating quickly. Being that it was almost a holiday, I was pretty sure the snow plows weren't running –or, at least, they hadn't passed the Seventh Heaven yet. I could have nudged everyone else to have a look at the weather, but they were semi-responsible adults and should be able to look out for themselves. Or, at least, that was what they would tell me if I did bring it up. So I would leave them to their follies or maybe even answer my phone when they called and needed pulled out of a snow drift. Maybe.
I was surprised when I heard footsteps behind me, the light tapping of worn soles across the polished hardwood floors. Sephiroth had seemed absorbed in conversation with Rufus and Lazzard. Cissnei was busy guarding Rufus, as she was the only one on duty tonight. Rude was making puppy eyes at the bartender. Unless Reeve had come back, wanting someone to run him home because it was too cold, it had to be the lovely blond. But he had no reason to come up to me, not really.
So I watched the clumping snow fall into the street as I waited to see what he had to say. After all, walking up to me all alone like this, he had something to say.
"Thank you for not making a big deal out of our accident," he said finally, his voice a soft lull of warmth.
Turning, I offered him my best smile. "How could I? It was at least partially my fault, and I knew Rufus would pay for the bottle. He likes putting a dent in his father's bottom line. Makes him feel like he cares when he comes around to chew him out."
Had this guy been this cute when I ran into him? Pretty eyes, inky black hair mused, all of it off-set by a nice navy button-down shirt that made his eyes seem to glow. Oh, he was pretty. That he seemed genuinely kind had my heart pounding against my ribs. Kind, lovely, and interested in me? The sacred three never seemed to meet at all, and here they all were, in this stranger.
"I'm Cloud. Cloud Strife," I choked out after a long silence. It took another long moment before I remembered to extend my hand.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Zackary Fair, but you can call me Zack." He flashed a smile that was so genuine and sweet it should have been blinding. When he took my hand, I was pretty sure my heart stuttered.
"Nice to meet you, as well." I did my best to smile, despite the feelings racing through me. I'd never been a social creature, really, so this felt a little forced to me.
Zack's smile only seemed to grow. "You know, I liked the white shirt, but this one looks better on you."
My eyes immediately dropped to the ragged old band shirt I wore. It was comforting and familiar, like a security blanket, and Tifa had remarked on it when I walked in with a disapproving frown. I wasn't sure what to think about Zack liking it.
"Ah, thank you," I said. "Have you heard of them? The Dumbapples, I mean. They aren't together anymore, but they really killed it when they were. I heard the lead singer quit to write plays." Realizing I was babbling on, I shut my mouth before I put my foot in it.
Zack arched a brow. "I think… I think my friend's boyfriend was really into them. But you know, that's not quite what I meant." He leaned in a little closer, well beyond how close I usually let people get. Warm calloused hands slid up my wrists to my elbows and back down again. "This shirt definitely improved the scenery."
Blushing furiously, I stammered out a thank you, the heat of his hands seeming to sear the skin of my wrists.
"You're really cute, Cloud," he replied, his smile gentle and warm. "I don't know the last time someone blushed when I complimented them."
Trembling slightly, I tried to meet his eyes. "I guess I'm not used to compliments –let alone, compliments coming from someone who looks like you." I gestured toward all of him. "You're pretty much the whole package, you know? Genuine and kind and good-looking to boot. I mean, I'm the background character: you're the hunky lead role."
That brought out a chuckle. "I don't know. I bet you're the whole package, too, if you put yourself out there."
I couldn't help but laugh at that. "Zack, I don't… put myself out there. I don't like people."
"Do you like me?" he asked lightly.
I nodded slowly.
"Then there's one person you like. And I'm sure you like other people." He smiled again. "You like the Dumbapples, right?"
"The lead singer was a bit much, actually. Drummer was freaking hot, though." There I went again, rambling on. I shook my head. "I get your point, I guess?"
"I'll let you in on a secret: people make me nervous, too. So what do you say we take a raincheck on the rest of this party and get out of here?"
"And go where?"
"Well, I have a big truck that can go most anywhere and a pretty empty apartment."
I shook my head. "I have a little cabin out in the country. Nice and warm, big fireplaces, comfy couch."
"That definitely sounds better than my apartment. Shall we?" He reached for my hand again, giving it a tight squeeze.
A hand settled lightly on my shoulder and I jerked back, looking up to see a soft smile and Tifa's big brown eyes. "Mister Shinra suggests you guys take this with you when you go." She didn't sound disapproving, just genuinely happy to see me leaving with someone. I would have to talk to her about what it meant to be a good best friend –later; much, much later. She slid a cold bottle into my other hand.
I'd worked enough nights in this bar to know what that bottle was. "Tifa… we can't take this…"
She laughed. "Mister Shinra said to send a bottle with you two. Celebrate the new year –especially since it's only ten."
"He has a weird sense of humor," I grumbled back. "Tifa, this is Zack Fair. Zack, this is Tifa Lockhart, owner and bartender for Seventh Heaven. Zack's going to be taking me home. You think you can manage five of them until eleven?"
"Oh, Cloud, I'll be fine, I'm sure." She kissed my cheek, then looked sternly at Zack. "You take good care of him or I'll take it out of your hide."
"Tif," I all but groaned. Now she wanted to play best friend and big sister and mother.
Zack nodded his agreement. "If I hurt him, I'll let you."
Now I was rolling my eyes. "In case anyone cares, I can actually take care of myself."
"Sure you can, Chocobo," Tifa returned with a soft smile.
"Go flirt with that guy who's looking all jealous because you kissed my cheek," I grumbled.
"Oh, Rude? He's a sweetheart," Zack volunteered.
This had sounded like a good idea before my best friend came up and made this awkward. But the longer we stood here and talked, the quicker my nerve was failing. I wanted to just go home and curl up in front of that fireplace I had just been bragging about to Zack and finally feel warm again. This was too fast and too soon, anyway. I'd only split with Kunsel a few months ago. And really, why would anyone as altogether wonderful as Zack seemed to be want anything to do with me? Most days, I didn't want to have anything to do with me.
I'd barely met him, but even I could read the distress and second thoughts crossing his face. I wondered how someone as lovely as he was had ended up with such poor self-esteem. Taking into account his friend Tifa's overprotective reaction, it wasn't hard to guess it wasn't a new phenomenon.
The green glass of the bottle looked millimeters from slipping out of his grip, so I relieved him of it. "Why don't we head out before the roads get worse?" I suggested gently. "My truck might have four-wheel drive, but that doesn't make me invincible."
Cloud looked up, surprise bursting in his eyes like fireworks. "Huh?"
"We should go while we still can go safely." I repeated gently, wondering if I had spooked him.
"Very true," Tifa returned, smiling. "Have fun ringing in the new year, boys," she added, kissing Cloud's cheek before retreating back to the bar.
I turned to the quiet man in front of me and smoothed my hand across his cheek. "Shall we go, then?"
He nodded slowly, eyes wide and wonderfully pretty, as though he really couldn't believe this was really happening.
"Hey," I said softly, stroking his face lightly. "Let's get a move on, then. Gather your things, Chocobo."
He frowned at the nickname. "Really?"
"Oh, come on. The tufts of blond hair, big blue eye, just a bit skittish. More than just a hint of wild chocobo to you, Cloud." I smiled at him, sliding my hand down his strong neck to caress his shoulder. "Gather your things, and meet me out front."
He nodded slowly, then turned to return to the back room. I found my coat and headed out to my truck, ducking through the snowfall to climb up into the cab. I took a moment to blow on my frozen fingertips before sliding the key in the ignition and turning it. It purred to life as I cranked the heat dial and the vent control to warm the inside up while I waited for the machinery to warm to the cold. I lifted the bottle, reading the label before chuckling and setting it in the back of the cab.
Trust Rufus Shinra to think it a good idea to send us off with a bottle of champagne. Pricy champagne, to boot. Of course, he never did anything half-assed: it just wasn't how he was made.
I pulled the truck out of the side lot and pulled out in front of the shop window. Cloud could see me through the wide pane of glass, and he could change his mind if he wished. I'd wait fifteen minutes to let the truck get good and hot. If he came out to meet me, so much the better. If not, I'd return to my apartment alone and try to talk some information out of Tifa the next day.
After about ten minutes, he popped his head out of the door of the bar, looking a bit distressed.
Rolling down the window, I leaned out of it to holler over the roar of the engine, "Need a ride, handsome?"
His eyes widened with warmth and pleasure and amusement. "As it turns out, I do. I don't think my bike is going anywhere in this crap."
"Your bike? Is that how you got here tonight? I mean, I can take it home for you." It was an odd turn of events that now I was the one babbling.
"Oh, Tifa came to get me. My bike winters in her garage, so she has to chauffeur me when she wants me to work at the bar. Other than that, one of my coworkers usually has to come fetch me." He shrugged, climbing up in the cab. "I could get a car, but I'd only use it when I couldn't use Fenrir –my bike. Seems like a waste."
His black wool coat splayed around him and he looked delicate inside the big cab of my truck. It was a deceptive appearance, to be sure, since I had felt the strength in his arms and seen the broad planes of muscle on his chest. In certain ways, he looked so small and so soft. I wondered how many people had thought him small and defenseless, who had underestimated the strength in his small stature and thin frame.
We chattered on while he directed me toward his house. He wasn't kidding when he said he was out in the country –it was a good three miles out of town at the least and there wasn't another house within a mile of him. It was solidly constructed, rustic looking from the outside but wholesome and charming in a thousand tiny ways. The driveway that looked to be shoveled almost religiously, like a ritual he maintained each time the snow fell to keep from going stir crazy inside his own refuge. It probably made it easier on whoever came to pick him up for work, but I doubted it was the point. Particularly because his road was one of the very last ones to see the plow and only the four-wheel drive had kept us from sliding all over the road from the slick of the packed snow.
Pulling into the drive, I marveled at the thick crunching of the snow that I could hear through the closed windows, despite how clear he had kept it.
Looking over at him, I couldn't help but smile. "Here we are, then. Looks cozy and charming."
That earned me a shy smile in return, a slow small thing of beauty. It was more gorgeous than the Midgar skyline at night, lit up like thousands of neon stars. All that color and sparkle and wonder couldn't even touch the hope in his smile, as far as I was concerned.
"Would you like to come in?" he asked. "It's warm and worn in and I promise the cat doesn't mind new people –well, too much. He is sort of stuck in his ways, but he doesn't bite anymore."
Trust me to start rambling about my cat like some sort of male cat lady. Bahamut, take me now.
"Anymore, huh? Sounds like he's quite a handful." Zack smiled and gods, he looked so good. Why was I always terrible with people? Why did it have to be six times worse when they were attractive?
He turned off the truck, then turned back to me. "I'd love to come in. Might end up sleeping on your couch if the weather keeps up," he added lightly.
Wanting to offer him my bed –and all it would contain– probably turned my face cherry red. "Sure," I returned, opening the truck door and slipping out before I could shove my foot down my throat this time.
He followed me shortly, blue coat billowing in the stout cold wind that was whipping through. Zack looked just like the romantic lead in some book or film, down to the pretty flush ridding his cheeks from the cold. What in the nine hells was he doing with me?
With a flourish, he produced the bottle that Rufus Shinra had so kindly gifted us with. I'd seen the price tag on the case when Tifa took it last week: it wasn't Cristol but it was more than my paycheck this week per bottle, wholesale. "Shall we? Seems a waste not to have at least a glass."
I unlocked the door, laughing at his words. "Zack, I've seen the price: it's a waste if you don't drink the whole bottle." I opened the door and waved him in. "Why don't you go on in? Take off your shoes as the entry way, please, and hang your coat up. Then go warm yourself in front of the fire."
He cocked his head at me. "Aren't you coming, Cloud?"
Apparently, not getting laid for three months made my brain incredibly susceptible to dirty thoughts. "I-in a moment," I stammered out. "I thought I'd bring in some fire wood first. Won't take but a few minutes and there's no point in us of us being cold."
Zack smiled at me, leaning in and kissing my cheek. "Don't be long. Your cat might eat me or something," he teased.
"Oh, Red knows better than to eat things that aren't his. Last time he ate my dinner, I kicked him out of my bed for a week." The kiss rattled my brain and I wondered if my words came out half as suggestive as they felt to me.
"Hm, does that make me your dinner?" he teased.
Blushing, I'm sure I tried to say something before managing to stammer out, "Oh, just got play with the cat already."
A wink and a smile were joined by laughter. "Alright, but don't stay out there too long or you'll freeze, little chocobo."
I flipped him off and closed the door after him. Pausing for a long moment, I tugged on my gloves before heading out back toward the wood pile. Collecting an armful of wood didn't take long, though the dwindling stock concerned me. Half my pile remained but if it was a cold February, it wouldn't last. It wasn't even January and here I was, all worried about the month after that. It just sort of demonstrated how much my mind was reeling in my current circumstances that I would even ponder the weather two months off.
Honestly, I didn't have many people into my house. Sure, everyone at the messenger service knew where to find my house and each had had a turn at picking me up, but none of them had been inside. Tifa and our friend Yuffie, but that was about it in the last month. Red XIII had bit Barret a few months before that. I considered it a coincidence that he had made a long trip to Casta del Sol shortly after that. Though I had been killing time outside, I should probably check and see if Zack was surviving my cat. I probably should have warned him that Red wasn't exactly an average housecat.
I hurried back into the house, arms full. Kicking off my shoes, I shook off some of the snow before proceeding to the living room, still dressed in my coat, to deposit my burdens. It seemed Zack had made it to the couch, but Red had him pinned beneath his weight and was lapping at his chin with his sand-paper tongue.
"Why didn't you say you had a tiger?" Zack asked drolly, trying to reach up and stroke Red's back.
"Don't be an alarmist, Zack. He's only about the size of a large ocelot," I returned with a smile, slipping off my coat. "Come on, Red. He's nice, so you should get off of him."
Since the cat certainly had a mind of his own, he sat down on Zack's stomach and looked over at me.
I sighed. "Red, off. Now." I didn't ordering him around like he didn't understand me. Red responded to certain tones of my voice and particular words like they meant something to him. The shelter that had held him said he'd been experimented on because he was one of the last of a very intelligent species. Since he'd been born in captivity, he hadn't found his voice yet and it didn't seem likely he'd survive in the wild. Still, I expected him to respond to my commands one day like a surly teenager.
Instead, he obeyed me promptly, coming over to rub against my leg and nuzzle into my hand. I dropped to my knees before him and let him lick my face. "Thank you, Red," I replied softly, rubbing between his ears just the way he liked.
He gave me a cat-smile –or at least what I interpreted as a smile. Then he wondered off toward the mudroom to lay down by the door like a guard cat of some kind.
"So," Zack said softly. "That's your cat."
"Yeah, Red's more than a handful most of the time. He's usually well-behaved."
Zack shook his head and smiled. "Should we get into that bottle of champagne, then?" he asked lightly, sitting up so that I might settle down beside him.
"Hm. How about we take a raincheck on that?" I asked, leaning in and finally tasting his lips.
"I think I can get behind that idea," Zack returned, pressing the words out in a rush between kisses.
And it wasn't long before we forgot about the bottle of champagne, New Year's Eve, and everything else.
Okay, that was meant to be about half the length it ended up. Freaking Cloud and Zack wouldn't cooperate with me.
Still, I like it and those weird little details I added in. So I spent a good portion of New Year's Eve and New Year's Day working on this splendid thing.
Welcome to 2018. May it be a better year than the last one.