AN; Yeah, I just try not to ponder on what goes through my head at ungodly hours of the day... I'm rather much so terrible at writing in present tense, but I tried. Hopefully it didn't go so badly? And if you get confused while reading this, try not to think on it too much, and just let your imagination work it out ;D

I think I might have overdone the italics... and the idea of a dominating Cloud makes me giggle. Oh and try not to dwell on the fact that he's only fifteen or so...

Disclaimer; FFVII and all follow-up components are the property of their rightful owners, as is the song title used in the naming of this work of fanart. Said fanart belongs wholly to me however.

Begun on June 11, 2008 at 2:14 AM, finished on June 11, 2008 at 10:14 PM, approximate time spent: two-three hours.


He isn't quite sure how this happened, when this happened, or even why this happened, but really, he couldn't care, because it was happening. Plus his thoughts aren't quite forming very well in the current situation, and Zack Fair is a man of the here and now; might as well go along with it. And... that soft, low moaning in his ear is rather persuasive. So he is pinning someone to the wall of what seems to be his quarters in the base, and he's ravishing a long, graceful neck with his lips, tongue, teeth. His hands are continuously running over taut, lean muscle on a mission to touch and memorize every contour of this deliciously sinewy body. Someone else seems to be on the same mission as well, their hands exploring beneath his shirt, large, strong hands. This person smells familiar, like musky autumn leaves, and he comes to realize that that is his own scent, one that people make a point to take notice of and tell him. He blinks and finds that now he is pinned to a wall, moaning, with someone doing wonderful things to his neck, touching his bare chest, and his hands are beneath the rough feel of a cotton garment. And he thinks to himself, "What in the world just happened?" But Zack Fair is a man of the here and now, so what does it matter? Though he is quite curious as to who has him pinned to his wall. All that's really filtering is that they are shorter than him, scarily thin (he could clearly feel each rib), with the softest of skin, hottest of lips, and magnificently deft hands. But he need not wonder any more, for the name tumbles from his lips as he throws his head back (knocking it against the wall, but that doesn't matter and he doesn't feel it anyways since his senses are a little preoccupied). In a bit of a daze, he is led to a bed, his own, and is pushed onto his back. His best friend, as he has learned, straddles his waist (he has also learned that his pants have disappeared), and sets to sending his head spinning in a rather forceful kiss (which he also learns he enjoys very much), hips rocking all the while. Those lips part from his and the voice he is so addicted to pants out his name...

His eyes squint open to a particularly painful blinding light.

And that voice is still panting out his name, but in a much different tone, "Zack... Zack..."

His eyes finally focus on the blonde's face extremely close to his own and he scrambles backwards, nearly falling off of what isn't his own bed.

His best friend just becomes all the more concerned, "Zack?"

He attempts to hide his burning cheeks with one hand, the other running through his hair, eyes trying to focus on bright blue but trailing to soft pink. And before he knows it, the younger has crawled onto the stiff bed and has his forehead pressed against his own.

"You really do seem to have a terrible fever. Should I--" Besides being a man of the here and now, Zack Fair is a man of impulse. And a man who believes in making his dreams come true. Even if he's in the infirmary ward. But one more thing he learns about himself today is that he rather enjoys kinky situations. If it's with a certain chocobo-head, that is.