Someone had once told him that he who lives by the sword dies by he who doesn't. It was an interesting concept; he'd even gone so far as to write the quote down onto a small piece of paper to keep in his wallet for a while. Eventually, however, he had come to the conclusion that it was an incomparable topic, for the weapons in question were far too different in design and execution. Guns were fast and lethal, getting the job done away from the target and finishing things with an explosive punctuation. They were a little heavy and cold against the palm, they reeked when you used them, and they jerked when you pulled the trigger.
Zack didn't like guns.
Swords, however, were long and elegant; they flowed with the body instead of resisting. Death was often messy and personal, and there was something about seeing the look in your opponent's eyes as the steel cut through them that added a sort of inexplicable emotion to the action. Swords were thorough and brutal, and they took true skill to master as an extension of the self.
It was for these reasons that he sighed, feeling pessimistic, as he eyed the small number of men standing in front of him trembling with fear and anticipation. They were of varying age and stature, with most of them standing tall and bulky. These were the ones who reminded him of guns. A few, however, were small, and he took note of this with pleasure—these, he mused, would be his true fighters. His swords. It was always the skinny ones you had to watch out for.
Narrowing his glare at the situation and thankful for his intimidating stature, he cleared his throat. The circle of men surrounded two recruits in particular, both of whom he recognized distantly: one, a rather large, brutish kid from the upper level firearms classes. The brat had sawdust for brains and an attitude to match, but he was dependable for a meat shield and would have, unfortunately, gone far because of this. Shinra was always in need of sturdy, disposable men to place at the front lines.
The other was a lean, almost underdeveloped cadet. Fresh off the streets, he recalled from the file, and had just started in the entry level weapon education classes. The boy was...pretty, actually. He had a wild crop of golden hair and delicate features, and if Zack recalled correctly, was crap with rifles but fairly adept at using a sword already. He'd had few classes with him thus far, but knew already that the kid was painfully quiet, had few friends, and had to be positively brutal on himself when it came to studying.
He'd be genuinely surprised if there were any cadets who neither wanted to fight nor fuck the blond.
His estimates seemed correct, as the scene before him displayed one slightly bruised brute and one very bloodied and bruised cadet. The group had frozen upon seeing him, though whether it was because they knew it was easier to take the punishment than run or to see if he'd join in, he couldn't say. Regardless, the fight he had interrupted was frozen in time, and one cadet was still holding the other off of the ground by inches, fist poised tightly around the butt of a handgun and dug soundly into the smaller boy's temple.
"Put him down, and hand that over, along with your ID card."
When he was released, the blond sagged into an exhausted salute, to which Zack nodded, and the larger of the two reluctantly surrendered the two requested items. The gun was not Shinra-issued; contraband, then. If this kid made it out the front doors, he would have a very hard life. For as little as Shinra cared about its troops, it was very careful about appearances, and letting a cadet threaten another with an unauthorized weapon was not, in a sense, excellent PR.
"The rest of you, in the disciplinary office right now. Skipping will only result in a harsher punishment, so don't bother. Go."
He took a small amount of pleasure in how quickly the group fled down the hallway at just the flick of a wrist. Sometimes it really paid to be a first class SOLDIER. Turning his eyes back to the beat-up blond, who was now on his knees and panting heavily through bloodied lips, he knelt and allowed the intimidating act to fade. "Are you alright?"
"Sir, yes sir." The voice was weary, but resigned. As hard as Zack craned his head, he couldn't get the boy to look at him, though he understood a bit. The kid was probably ashamed like none other. When an audible breath through what sounded like a broken nose met his ears, he made a small sound of disappointment.
"You should go to the infirmary and get those wounds looked at. Your nose sounds like it's been broken." When two vibrant blue eyes darted to his own in fear, he frowned. "What's your name?"
"Strife, sir. Cloud Strife."
"Does this happen often, Cloud?" The recruit seemed shocked at the sound of his first name. If Zack were honest, he'd say that the kid looked like a frightened rabbit, ready to take off running at the first opportunity. He watched as the boy in front of him nodded—very hesitantly, he noted—and focused his gaze on the far wall.
"It's nothing I can't take, sir. I'm used to it."
Zack raised an eyebrow at that. He was used to being beaten and threatened with a gun? He was willing to bet that the group of bullies was already lurking near the infirmary as they spoke, waiting for the blond to follow orders so that they could jump him without interruption. A small bud of disappointment began to flower within him at the thought. This kid would either fight his way to the top or die trying to get there. It was a sad prospect. "C'mon, we're going to get you bandaged up."
"Sir?" The frightened blue eyes were looking at him again, but not in the eye—at his chest, instead. "Sir, I'll be fine, I just need--"
"You need to heal." He took the blond's chin in his fingers and forced him to look up. With what he hoped was a reassuring smile, he helped Cloud Strife to his feet and wrapped an arm around his waist, taking most of the kid's weight. He was unnervingly light, almost as if he were malnourished, and Zack resolved right then and there to do a bit of research into this new recruit. "Come on, Cloud. You can trust me."
As they made their way down the hallway, Zack had no clue how badly Cloud needed to hear those few simple words.
The suite in which the first class resided was simple and spartan, though Zack had done well to add personal touches here and there within his own apartment. The quarters were still cramped, but at least they were accommodating now, consisting of a bed, bath, kitchenette and small living area. By the time they had arrived, Cloud Strife was trembling like a leaf in the wind.
"You can take a seat on the couch, I won't be a minute." When the recruit didn't budge an inch inside, Zack turned to look at him with a questioning glance. "Cloud?"
"With all due respect, sir," and it sounded like it, "what's going to happen to me?" A frown curved along soft, full lips for a moment. "You don't have to do this for someone like me."
"I would do this for any of my troops, Cloud. Especially one who couldn't walk on their own." It was an honest answer.
"...sir." With humiliation-tinted cheeks and eyes focused downward, the blond shuffled inside and sat gingerly onto the worn couch, touching as little as possible on the way over. He was still bleeding and his eyes were beginning to darken and swell, and Zack was impressed that he was still conscious.
Retrieving a restore materia from his bedroom, he removed his gloves and uniform jacket before sliding the small jewel into a bracer. As he worked, the blond's eyes never left the floor, and so Zack continued to speak in a quiet voice. "You said this happens often?"
There was no response this time, though Cloud was still alert. A small sigh fell from the older man.
"I can't help you if you won't talk to me, you know."
"Once..." A slender, pale hand wiped ruby fluid from a swollen bottom lip. "At least once a week, sir. Sometimes more."
"Once a week?" His hands fell from the blond's face in his shock, and he looked at the smaller recruit with concern and anger. "Have you tried defending yourself?"
Something other than fear and embarrassment shone brightly, then. It was anger, and indignation, and it made the blond's eyes blaze oceanic. "Of course I have!" The glare faltered for a second. "Sir."
"Call me Zack."
Cloud said nothing for a bit, but when Zack continued his work, going about bandaging whatever the restore didn't heal, the smaller man confessed further. "It's never less than five. I can take two easily, maybe three, but there's always too many. They always carry knives, and sometimes guns. It's easier to submit than to fight anymore, but it's alright. It's made me stronger, sir."
The voice was so quiet that had Zack's mako conditioning not heightened his senses, he may not have heard the meek words. Unfortunately, however, he'd heard them clear as anything, and they infuriated him. It was frustrating and distressing to him that groups of recruits were going around hazing others to such severity, and it was disappointing that Cloud was so resolved to take it. Both situations were fixable to some extent, however, and as he finished up he stood.
"You'll stay here for a few days. I'll notify your instructors of your absence and have your work sent up."
"Sir!" Those blue eyes were outright panicked now. "Sir, I'm plenty fit to return to my quarters."
"That may be, but I want to keep an eye on you." At the blond's wince, he backtracked. "Not because I don't think you're capable, I just...want to make sure you're okay. Until we catch those fuckers, you're staying here. That's an order."
Stunned into silence and blushing hotly, Cloud said nothing.
"That's better. Now, the shower is through there, and I'll grab you a blanket for the couch. I don't have any extra pillows, so you might have to use a rolled-up towel. Probably still better than whatever you're sleeping on, if I remember correctly." He turned, grinning. "Nothing like burlap and old socks for a pillow, eh?"
For the first time in the short period he had known the blond, he witnessed a tiny smile bend bruised lips.
"Thank you, sir."
He chuckled, relieved that the mood had lifted. "Don't mention it, kid."
When Cloud had fallen asleep, Zack had watched him for a long while. There was something comforting to be found in simply watching somebody in a deep slumber, in listening to their slow breathing and watching their eyes move as they dream. When he was certain that the blond was snoozing deeply, he'd gathered the small package up and carried him to the first class infirmary.
It was technically against the rules for green recruits—or anybody under class, for that matter—to be using the injury ward in that wing, but exceptions were often made for close friends and lovers of the elite class. After all, there were very few who made it to first class and even fewer who pushed pride far enough away to use the infirmary, and so the doctors within were often grateful for someone to busy their hands with. As a result, when Zackary Fair walked in carrying a thin, badly beaten recruit, there were no noses turned up at the man.
"I'd like you to do a thorough checkup on this one," he'd said, "I think these wounds may go a bit deeper than he's letting on. I'll be by tomorrow to see him."
It had been a simple request, really. He knew his suspicions weren't unfounded, and he'd felt better in the comfort of knowing that the kid was in capable hands while he was on duty. The following day had been tedious and long, full of classes and battles and even a bit of paperwork; it had all been made far worse, somehow, because of his concern for the new recruit. He found it only a little odd that he was so preoccupied over the blond, but paid it little mind—after all, he cared fiercely for all of his friends, and having seen the pain and embarrassment shining so brightly in Cloud's eyes...well, he was allowed to be a bit worried.
When he'd finally found the time to visit the injury ward, however, he couldn't have anticipated what he'd been told:
"Well," the doctor had begun routinely, but concern was already bubbling through the clinical facade, "your cure spells did heal most of the outer damage. His nose is mending nicely, and the bruises will fade in a day or so. He's mildly underfed and a bit dehydrated, but we have him on an IV currently. However," and this is where Zack had grown almost nervous, "there are more...pressing issues that I believe should be addressed very delicately."
"Pressing issues?"
"We found three separate semen samples inside of the boy," the doctor had folded his hands uncomfortably,"as well as a great deal of bleeding and tearing around the rectal area. His tail bone and groin area have been badly bruised. It seems this one has recently been the victim of a rather violent gang rape. Judging from the light scarring we've seen, it's possible that it has happened before, as well."
He'd been stunned. Shaken. Thankfully, he'd found the decency to withhold his anger. "Does he need to stay here, or can he continue recovery in my quarters?"
"Keeping him here would be preferred, but recovery in your quarters may be more comfortable for him." The doctor had placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, then. "Having a friend around would probably lessen the burden—both physically and emotionally. The faster he confronts and surpasses this, the better."
Zack had nodded tersely and motioned toward Cloud. The blond had been lightly sedated and looked small and frail on the cold steel table, eyes half-lidded and body sluggish. Through his smoldering fury and sour desire for revenge, he'd felt a ferocious desire to protect the smaller man.
Slowly and quietly, he'd carried Cloud back to the couch in his living room.
Zackary Fair slept on the floor that night.
Roughly a week had passed since Zack was told the news of Cloud's predicament. The blond had returned to classes after his foes were properly disciplined. He was doing surprisingly well, in Zack's opinion. He hadn't been lying when he'd said that the attacks had made him stronger, or at least more resilient, and because of this Zack found himself more and more curious as to exactly what the kid was all about.
What he was doing wasn't exactly stalking, per se. He convinced himself that he was merely looking out for the kid, acting as a big brother where there was obviously no one else. Had he been honest with himself, though, he would have admitted that he was growing fond of the smaller recruit; he'd had lunch with him a few times, and tested the kid's strength in training. Cloud Strife was a promising cadet, and after a bit of prodding on Zack's part, he noticed, a pretty nice guy as well.
He had yet to confront the blond, however, on the topic of his assault.
Because their ranking differed so greatly, their schedules unfortunately did as well. As a result, Zack had little time to reserve a one-on-one with his new acquaintance. He knew that it would be little effort to schedule a meeting convenient for his own plans, to simply pluck the kid from class and have that be that, but it seemed rude to disrupt Cloud's daily routine simply for interrogation.
Grinning to himself when there was a knock on the door, he gave himself a mental pat on the back for making it seem otherwise. He didn't necessarily have to disrupt Cloud's routine to make it look like the meeting was part of it, after all.
"Come in," he called. The door cracked open and behind it stood Cloud Strife, still in his full uniform.
"Sir, you requested to see me?"
"Yeah, get in here." He shuffled the papers he'd been working on and placed them into a drawer haphazardly, feeling strangely excited to have the blond back in his quarters. "How ya been?"
"I've been alright, sir." The door was shut and Cloud removed his helmet, flashing an amused grin. "Though the training this week has been a pain in the ass."
Zack grinned back to the kid, though it was slightly halfhearted—he knew that the blond was trying desperately to act normal in his presence, to relax and let his guard down. Unfortunately, he was trying so hard that it was obvious, but with Cloud, an inch was ten miles. Instead of calling him on it, Zack encouraged whatever he could get. "Still getting along alright? No fights?"
"No fights," and they were both relieved, "and I'm beginning to get the hang of the katas. They're different from what I'm used to."
When Cloud Strife spoke, he spoke quietly and not without thought. It was comforting to Zack that the recruit was beginning to open up even a tiny bit. He'd been trying to flash the blond a wink or a smile across the hallway whenever he saw him, and it appeared to have been working.
Tonight, however, would possibly ruin all of that.
"Cloud, I actually asked you here to talk about something very specific," he sounded confident, but inside, Zackary Fair was terrified to breach the topic. When Cloud glanced at him curiously, he motioned for the smaller man to pull up a chair. "When I brought you in here the first time, I actually took you to the infirmary that night. Do you remember?"
Cloud paused for a moment and then nodded slowly. "I remember being in a cold white room. The stethoscope was freezing. It woke me up."
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Zack laughed. "Yes, I know it well, believe me." They sobered much to quickly for his liking. "Anyway, when I came to check up on you, the doctor told me something that I think I need to ask you about, shitty as it is."
There was wariness in Cloud's eyes when he spoke. "Yes?"
"When they did your checkup, they said that they found some pretty heavy signs of gang rape."
And there it was. The elephant in the room. Cloud looked as if he would have been perfectly happy getting hit by a bus right then and there, and it caused Zack to flinch.
"Cloud, you have--"
"It's no big deal. I can take it, you don't have to tell--"
"Cloud!" The silence in the room was heavily punctuated by the deafening slam of Zack's palms on the desk seconds before. He was standing now, sure that his eyes were afire with mako-infused anger. "How can you even say that about yourself? Where the hell is your self respect?"
"What do you care?" It was brutally quiet, nearly a whisper, but it froze Zack to his core. "You're a first class SOLDIER, and I'm a grunt. This happens a thousand times every year to people exactly like me, and no one would know if they didn't accidentally stumble upon it in the hallway like you did." Blue eyes were focused on booted toes, and the words were rushed. If Cloud didn't say everything at once, it would never be said. "I never asked you to take me in, sir. I'm nobody's charity case. ...I'll be alright."
For one of the very few times in his life, Zack was stunned to silence. He couldn't help but stare at the boy in front of him. He was angry and he was concerned, but mostly he was bitter that Cloud was speaking the truth.
If he hadn't been walking down the hall that day, Cloud Strife would still be the victim of routine hazing. He'd still be taking it like a man, and he'd be going to classes with a busted lip and a bruised tail bone.
And no one would have any clue.
Zack couldn't exactly placed why it bothered him much more than it normally would have. His brain offered a comparison of the situation playing out differently. What if it had been the gun-wielding brute that had been hazed?
Somehow, it didn't seem nearly as bad as it did when it was Cloud that was in danger.
His thoughts were slashed when a timid voice sliced through the heavy air. "Will that be all, sir?"
As he sank back into his chair, feeling shell-shocked and at a loss for what to do, his brain supplied the usual response for the prompt: "Yes, cadet. You are dismissed."
It wasn't until hours later that he realized what he should have said:
"No, Cloud, it's not, and I'm sorry..."
A month passed.
Whatever progress with Cloud that Zack had made in the week they'd communicated had been utterly reversed. From his observation, the cadet had become even more withdrawn; to his horror, the cuts and bruises had returned as well. To the unknowing eye, they wouldn't be paid a second glance—after all, the life of a Shinra grunt was grueling and often resulted in injury. Zack knew, however, because he'd seen them the first time.
He couldn't help but feel as though it was his fault.
For as little as he'd gotten to know the blond, there was a decided void in his life where Cloud was noticeably missing. He missed the quiet smiles and shy salutes from across the mess hall, and the aggressive determination that flashed sapphire strong in the kid's eyes when they sparred during class. After their discussion, Cloud avoided him like the plague, and...he missed him.
This is what brought Commander Zackary Fair to the recruit barracks in the pouring rain.
He'd already spoken with Cloud's bunkmates and had them reassigned for the night and most of the next day. For this, he wanted the room to just the two of them, and he wanted to be on Cloud's territory. As he slid his card through the lock and entered, he frowned slightly at his peace offering: a thirty-rack of cheep bear and a rain-soaked box of pizza.
Not exactly flowers and a card, but it would do.
Cloud's bunk was located on the first floor on the left-hand side, and if he knew Cloud's schedule like he hoped he did, the blond would be in there studying this very moment. Three sharp knocks on the door brought the sounds of sluggish shuffling forth, and when the door opened to reveal the recruit, Zack nearly dropped the items in his hands.
The kid was obviously straight out of a shower and wrapped loosely in a blanket to cover his form. His hair was damp and tousled, interrupting the usual spikes with fly-aways and the occasional curl. Wide, innocent eyes looked up at him in shock.
Hardly trusting himself to complete a sentence in the presence of something so...adorable, the first class SOLDIER merely held up the junk food and grinned hopefully. "Truce?"
"Z-Zack? What the hell—I mean, come in—I mean, you're dripping, let me get you a towel--" As the cadet sputtered and moved aside for his commanding officer to step in, Zack couldn't help but laugh heartily. His plan to take the blond off his guard had worked spectacularly, and he felt a small hole within him mend with a comforting warmth as Cloud bustled around the room. When his studies were cleared from the ragged table in the center of the room, Zack watched as the cadet tossed his blanket back onto his bunk.
The atmosphere in the barracks had always been stiflingly humid, and it wasn't unusual for many of the recruits to walk around in varying states of undress. Zack saw, and not without suppressing a light blush, that Cloud had fallen into habits no different than his own had been. Clad simply in boxer-briefs and a pair of socks, the blond stood in all his innocent glory. Unfortunately, his glory was mottled with black and blue and red, marring a landscape of otherwise flawless skin. Had Zack not been taken aback by the injuries, he'd have thought the kid was tragically beautiful.
Cloud must have picked up on his distress, because he allowed Zack a rare, broad smile. "Don't worry, these ones are from sparring today." The soggy pizza box was torn open eagerly and Cloud dug in, continuing on to speak with his mouth full. "I was undefeated today."
There was something about the pride emanating from the cadet, or perhaps it was how out of character it seemed for him to be eating so indelicately, but Zack felt drawn to him, then. He found himself suddenly wanting to laugh and throw his arms around the blond, though he was certain that it would terrify him. Instead, he grabbed his own slice of pizza and simply said, "Yeah?"
"That stuff you showed me last month really helped. I owe ya one." The regular sadness returned to his eyes, and Zack wanted to lunge at him and stretch his cheeks so that Cloud would smile again. Whatever it took. "For everything."
"Aw, c'mon, Cloud. You know you don't owe me anything."
"I was very rude."
The raven-haired man sighed briefly and eyed the younger man. "Tell you how you can make it up to me?"
Cloud's eyes lit up minutely, and it nearly broke Zack's heart.
"Come back to my place tonight. Stay with me."
"Zack, I..." For a moment, it seemed as though Cloud was about to refuse, but something caused him to reconsider. "Sure. Just let me grab some clothes."
"And so, and so--" there was laughter, and a large gulp of beer, "he runs up the stairs in his underwear, screaming about how Commander Fair is going to kill him for being late for his class--"
It had been a good night.
Zack's peace offering had been more than successful, luring the blond cadet back to his quarters in a lighthearted mood. They'd toweled off and were seated merrily in Zack's living room, now, having decimated the pizza and most of the beer. Cloud was dressed in the same boxers and an old t-shirt of his commanding officer's (at Zack's insistence), and Zack was happily—and drunkenly—lounging in his own underwear.
Cloud knew that alcohol was not permitted on base, much less for underage recruits, and so as he sipped lightly on his beer and tried not to make a face, he felt a tiny bit guilty. It was difficult to stay down in Zack's presence, however, and so he took another sip of the bitter beverage and smiled, genuinely, as the other man broke into another humorous tale from his service to Shinra. His vision was swimming dangerously and he'd lost track of how many he'd had, though he'd have wagered it wasn't much.
His bladder clenched threateningly for the thousandth time that night, and he staggered to his feet.
Stepping over Zack was difficult, and were he sober, he would have been very confused indeed at the rosy hue that painted the SOLDIER's cheekbones when he successfully stumbled over the man. The bathroom seemed miles away as his world tilted back and forth, and instead of relieving himself when he finally made it, he fell to his knees and vomited violently.
Warm bile flowed from his mouth into the toilet in a sickening rush. It tasted of beer and pepperoni, which only fueled the nausea in his gut and he heaved, clenching his eyes shut at the sudden onslaught of sickness.
"Aw, shit," and then there were Zack's hands on his back, "I'm sorry, Spike. Shoulda warned ya." The man's hands were warm and comforting to him as he dry heaved. "That's it, just get it all out."
His abdomen ached by the time he was suitably finished. Feeling weak and certainly spent, he curled up on the floor, irritated that even after throwing up so thoroughly, he still couldn't purge his body of the swirling vertigo. In his exhausted, intoxicated haze, he was mildly surprised when his newfound friend curled up behind him, wrapping an arm around his body protectively. He knew it should have felt strange, but in the moment it was only soothing. Though he felt ill, he was finally safe.
Cloud Strife and Zackary Fair slept on the floor together that night.
The next few months progressed without incident. Under Zack's wing now, Cloud met little resistance from his classmates and instructors alike. Though he received regular verbal lashings for being a SOLDIER's lapdog, the beatings—and the rape—had halted completely. He and Zack had bonded quite closely, and Cloud was staying at his commander's place more often than not these days.
There was a lot of sneaking around to be done on his part, for access to the first class suite was highly restricted. It was kind of fun; he felt like a spy, lurking in the shadows and slinking past guards. It was made all the sweeter by the fact that waiting for him at the end was his best friend.
Cloud had developed a lot of feelings for Zack over the year or so that they had known each other. Most of them were friendship- and brother-related, but there were a few lingering hints of something more that had begun to peek through. Frankly, they scared the shit out of him—neither of them seemed to be the gay type, after all. And four years younger? Miles away in rank? It was enough to make him want to hide his face in shame for even entertaining the thought.
However, when the door slid open to reveal a Zackary Fair still in his uniform, Cloud fought hard to suppress a full-body blush. The man looked stunning in his fatigues. Well, he conceded, Zack looked good in anything, really, but the contours of his body were especially complimented by the coarse fabric of his Shinra-issued digs. He had come dressed in his usual cadet uniform, though he'd packed extra casual clothes in the bag slung over his shoulder. He was welcomed in with open arms that closed tightly around him, and he leaned into the embrace.
The fact that Zack was a very physical person did not help Cloud get over his crush.
On days where Zack had had a good day, they would drink and watch movies. Zack would usually end up falling asleep in Cloud's lap, and Cloud would wake up sore because sleeping in an upright position, no matter how important it is that you don't wake somebody up, isn't healthy.
On bad days, however, they would wrestle. And from the look of the paperwork blanketing Zack's desk, it had been a very, very long day. Catching the older man's gaze and jerking his head toward the living room, he knew he'd picked correctly when the officer's shoulders sagged a bit and a broad grin split his lips.
Cloud never won, but that was okay. It was okay because he got to be close to Zack, and it was okay because he was having fun while he was effectively training. While his commander rummaged in his room, he saw fit to change into a pair of pajama bottoms while he waited.
Zack emerged from his bedroom nude to the waist and in sweatpants, pumping his arms back and forth to loosen his joints and grinning from ear to ear. The blond moved to the center of the room (the table had been moved away long ago in anticipation of such nights) and braced himself for the inevitable pouncing he'd receive. The larger man was always spontaneous, always full of light and good humor—it fascinated and inspired Cloud simply to be around him.
When the fight began, the cadet was thankful that Zack wasn't exactly pulling his punches. The older man had come to discover just how much his friend hated being treated as something fragile, and that he truly could take a good pounding and bounce back from it. As a result, their wrestling matches were heavy-handed and rough, often ending in heads hitting the corners of furniture or someone tapping out before passing out.
Tonight, however, there was something...off-kilter. Neither may have thought it possible, but as they sparred there on the living room floor, they seemed to touch more. It was subtle, certainly: the brush of a thigh against a bicep during a throw, cheek against cheek during a pin. Gradually, however, the subtleties grew into something much more, and when the wrestling match ended as it usually did—with Zack pinning Cloud to the floor victoriously—there was something much greater hanging in the air around them.
Commander looked down at cadet and allowed his grin to fade, though the light in his eyes was still blazing. Cloud was disheveled beneath him with a flushed face and a satisfied smile. As he caught his breath, he panted, and each heaving breath brushed their bare chests together ever-so-lightly. Zack's fingers were interlaced with the blond's, keeping his hands well against the stained carpet beneath them. All in all, Cloud Strife painted a very alluring picture, and though Zack's instincts screamed to him to stop, his body only surged forward.
In a matter of seconds that lasted hours, Zack's lips were gently connected with Cloud's, and it was...delicious.
He wasn't sure how they had progressed from chaste kisses to stumbling into the bedroom, but Zack had noticed that on the way there, Cloud 's body fit rather comfortably against his own body. The blond was a delight to carry, being of the perfect height and stature to ooze languidly against his commander. For this reason, the darker man skipped the bed for the time being and simply held the cadet against the wall, palms braced against a well-rounded ass for support. He let his teeth find their own path from the impossibly soft lips before him to a curved neckline, and when he could comfortably reach no further down, he simply trailed back up the other side.
Cloud, he noticed, made rather delectable noises when his ear lobes were teased.
There was a nagging voice in the back of his mind reminding him why he should be taking it much slower than this, but it was difficult to listen when months of pent up frustration had suddenly been revealed as quenchable lust. Cloud's mouth was on his again, searching and pleading without saying a word, and it was sexy and dirty and completely innocent at the same time. The thought made him groan low in his throat and he tossed his lover to the bed, eager to find what lay beneath their clothed boundaries.
Stalking toward the bed, Zack made short work of the blond's pants. A quick tug at the ankles slid the fabric from alabaster skin, and Cloud was his for the taking. He stood for a moment, awestruck, at how lean and muscular and yet still very boyish the cadet's body was—he was no longer malnourished, but he was still rather thin. He had the body of a dancer, and Zack couldn't wait to feel it against his own.
When his pants fell to the floor, Cloud leaned up onto his elbows to get an eyeful, and the commander let him. He held his arms out from his sides, unashamed, as Cloud leaned forward to run his fingertips down hardened muscles. His touch was shy and hesitant, but curious, and it spoke volumes to Zack about the experience—or lack thereof—that stained the blond's past. He would have bet a great deal that this was Cloud's first opportunity to truly experience sex, and by gods, he was going to make sure that it was enjoyable.
The one thing about Cloud that Zack admired most was his brazenness toward education; the kid had an almost insatiable need for learning. The bedroom was no different, apparently, as the darker man soon felt gentle kisses spanning the landscape of his abdomen. Cloud's lips were cool against his heated flesh and he tried to calm himself, tried not to let his hardened flesh leap with arousal and hit his lover on the chin, but Cloud's touch was so naive it was filthy, and it was turning Zack on like he'd never been before.
When the slickness of Cloud's tongue slid around the head of his commander's arousal, Zack gasped quietly and allowed his eyes to fall shut. It was ironic to him that the blond was so inexperienced with less erotic parts of the body, and yet so skilled in areas normally kept taboo. If he allowed himself to daydream briefly, he'd know the real reason behind Cloud's unexpected skill, but that was a discussion for another time.
Right now, he was buried to the hilt between a pair of beautiful lips, and with two accents of brilliant cerulean, Zack was pretty sure he'd died and gone to heaven.
"Cloud," he murmured to his kneeling lover, and for a moment the ministrations paused, "I...don't want to finish like this," his voice was strained with arousal and nerves, "but if you're not ready for...that, please, don't feel obligated. This feels fucking incredible, believe me."
When the blond milked the swollen flesh as he leaned away from Zack's body, there was an audible pop at the release. Golden spikes tickled the officer's belly as his abdomen was nuzzled tenderly. "It's alright, Zack. I know you're not like them." A delicate kiss was placed with care on the point of his hip bone, and then: "Just...go slow, alright?"
"Absolutely."
The next morning, Zack awoke with a smile on his face. Though it was 0600, and he'd had very little sleep, it seemed as though his body had all of the fuel it needed to take on the entire world. As he dressed, he kept a close eye on his new lover, who was sound asleep under the covers. He'd be doing the cadet a favor soon in alerting his instructors of a sudden illness causing the blond's absence, and he'd be on pins and needles all day in excitement.
It had taken nearly a year and a half, but somehow, they'd found each other. A first class SOLDIER and a Shinra grunt.
Snagging his sword from its home in the corner, he slid it onto the magnetic attachment on his suit and turned one last time to blow a kiss to the sleeping form warming his bed.
Some days, he chuckled to himself, you were the gun.
Some days you were the sword.