A/N: Written for The Strifehart Kink Meme, over on Dreamwidth.
Prompt: Leon has PTSD from being tortured under Seifer, and tonight is one of his bad nights. Good thing Cloud's here to listen now he's FINALLY ready to open up about the traumatic experience.
The Passing Storm
A flash of lightning and then a deafening peel of thunder wakes Cloud in an instant. He moves from sleep to wakefulness in a heartbeat, eyes blinking open rapidly against the strobe effect of shadows on the walls, and he feels the powerful rumble of static through his chest; vibrating his lungs as the storm breaks overhead.
The window is open. Gossamer curtains flapping against the sill, slightly damp from where the rain has caught them and they stick to the glass panes like sweat soaked fabric against skin.
Cloud reaches up above him and pulls the material free. Feels the muggy night air against his face as he tilts his chin towards the dampness and breathes in the scent of midsummer heat, concrete, and ozone. He can taste the storm on the back of his tongue.
Another crack of lightning splits the darkness and the bed trembles. Cloud frowns and let's go of the curtain, glances down at the man sleeping next to him and it takes a few moments to realise the man isn't sleeping at all. Leon's chest dips too shallow and his fists are caught up in the sheets, gripping hard, the pulse point at his neck trembling wildly, jerking erratically; too fast for the rhythm of a deep and peaceful sleep.
Cloud rolls over, the sound of the bed springs enveloped by the deep rumble of thunder as it carries away across the city, and he reaches up a hand and cups Leon's jaw.
Leon resists at first. Won't turn to look at him, and Cloud feels his already stiff muscles snap tighter, so he shuffles close and sees Leon doesn't even have his eyes closed. They are open and glassy and staring at something far in the past; skin clammy and beaded with sweat, the sheet beneath him already soaked, his hair a damp, hot tangle against his neck and forehead.
"Lee," Cloud calls when his touch fails to rouse him. "Lee, what's wrong?"
Leon doesn't stir, only flinches again when the sudden flash of lightning illuminates the darkness, and Cloud can see how wide his pupils have blown; the flare of his nostrils as he breathes in hard.
"Leon!" Cloud calls again, this time firmly. Taps his palm against his lovers cheek and feels the radiating heat.
Leon's eyes snap to the left. They're wide and panicked but at least they're focused now. Seeing Cloud and the room around them. His mind back in the present. His chest dips as he lets go of a frightened breath and suddenly he's gasping.
"The window," he manages to grind out, his jaw so tense Cloud thinks Leon's teeth might shatter. "Close it."
"What?" Cloud's brows furrow and there's another crash of thunder.
"Close the window!" Leon manages again, his face collapsing into unbridled panic.
The request doesn't make sense but Cloud complies. Reaches up and pulls the window shut, catching the latch quickly and stifling the cool breeze. It doesn't take long for the small bedroom to become stuffy. But the sound of the storm is more muffled now and Cloud settles himself on his side again, disturbed more than ever to see Leon with his hands against his ears and his eyes screwed shut. He had no idea his lover was so terrified of storms; the irony of his given name not lost on the soldier. If it weren't for the severity, or the unusualness of his reaction, Cloud might have considered teasing Leon about that. But the strangled "Please" that slips from Leon's lips makes him think twice, and reflexively Cloud gathers him up in his arms. Presses his body close, and feels the hot, moist breath of Leon's panicked gasps against his throat.
They wait a long while for the storm to pass, and it still toils lazily in the distance by the time Leon has calmed enough to attempt conversation. Cloud knows he should go slow but he's eager to have Leon back. The way he knows him: calm, controlled, collected.
"You alright?" He asks as he pulls away. Stops his slow and reassuring caresses against Leon's back.
Leon nods quickly, simply, only once. His eyes still closed and his palms still covering his ears, though there is no tension in his shoulders anymore. There's no more fright in him now.
"I can't smell it anymore." Leon whispers, the words leaving him like a thankful prayer.
"Smell what?" Cloud asks, reaching up to pull Leon's hand away from his ear.
Leon doesn't answer. Just lets go of a shuddering breath and Cloud recognises the look of relief - which only comes after pain has subsided - ripple across Leon's face. He jumps out of bed and quietly pads to the bathroom. Returns with a cold, damp cloth and presses it to Leon's neck. Moves it up to his forehead. Squeezes the excess droplets so that they melt into his hairline.
Leon sighs with gratitude and swallows thickly. "I... I used to like storms, before..."
"Before what?" Cloud asks, a little too eager.
"Before D-District." Leon explains. And he begins to tell the rest. About his mission and Seifer. About how they both went wrong. He doesn't do the whole scene justice but then again he isn't trying to. He gives just enough so that Cloud will understand. There's not many things that remind him of it now, it was so long ago. But the smell of static and the flash of lightning brings it all home and he doesn't think there will ever be a way to describe what being hit with hundreds of bolts of electricity feels like; the daily torture, isolation and pain that breaks a man when he's subjected to enough of it.
It's lucky Cloud understands well enough anyway.
"I didn't know." Cloud admits quietly when Leon is done talking.
"No one does." Leon replies. Wants to keep it that way.
The damp cloth has lost it's cool edge and Cloud discards it. Runs his fingers through Leon's hair instead and watches his tired eyes peel open. He wonders about Leon's nature, the way he holds himself apart - quiet and withdrawn - and thinks it might have something to do with what has happened. He knows how deep those kind of scars go, and it begins to explain why he feels like he knows this man, despite hardly knowing him at all. He recognises that wounded soul. Sees himself reflected back in all of the shattered pieces.
"It's okay." He says, quietly, softly. Rests his chin against Leon's head and lets out a slow sigh. He knows better than anyone it's useless to say anything else. Words count for shit when it comes to things like this. Better to just wait and let it pass on its own.
Eventually he hears the gentle rhythm of Leon's breathing turn deep and even, and he feels the weight of the sleeping man in his arms.
It's almost unbearably hot in the tiny bedroom, but he doesn't open the window again. The smell of rain and energy lingers in the air and Cloud doesn't want to chance something else triggering those terrible memories. Pain is of the mind, and it can linger and return whenever it damn well pleases. That, Cloud knows also.
He shifts a little to make himself more comfortable, and he dozes until dawn. He's already made his mind up that he won't mention this again, not unless Leon does, and he doesn't think that he will. It's nice to have someone so familiar - so similar - to read and understand and predict. It makes their coupling easier. And if there is one thing both of them need, it's something simple and easy. Something that will bring them both pleasure without complications.
Cloud thinks that's within his ability to give, and so he sets his mind to it almost without thinking. He will help Leon. As well as he knows how to help anyone besides himself. And maybe, just maybe, Leon can help him too.