Free Me

A/N: I don't own Final Fantasy, no matter how much I wish I did. Square Enix does. I own nothing except the plot. This is set sometime after Advent Children; not sure if it interfers with DoC, didn't play that one yet. And that's all I'll let you know of so no spoilers. I have to thank Yaoi Flame for introducing me to the possibility of this pairing and coming to respect it. Your thoughts are appreciated, your flames are not. Enjoy!

Rating: T

Warning: Mentions of shounen-ai... And I think that's it for this chapter.

Pairing: Hm, you'll have to guess for this one~

Summary: Cloud hates it when it rains. All he can think of is them. He just wants to let go.

Cloud Strife headed down the broken streets of Midgar, head down, eyes nearly shut. He kept his mako-blue gaze on his boots as he walked slowly down the rain-soaked concrete, trying to push everything from his head. A light rain was let down from the smokey-silver clouds, soaking his dark clothing, running along his skin where it was exposed and attempting to flatten his bright blonde hair. He hated the rain, but still couldn't keep himself out of it. He didn't hear the soft pitter-patter of rain like everyone else did; he didn't feel the gentle caress of drizzling droplets of water.

Cloud heard their voices in his ears that brought on foggy memories, things he should know, things he didn't always want to remember. Cloud felt their touch on his skin, soft, tender and unforgettable. He wished he didn't, he wanted to let it go. It had been so long, so long since he lost them. The guilt should be over, the connection should be broken. But it wasn't, it never would be. Cloud couldn't let Zack and Aerith go. Not now, not ever, or so it seemed.

Cloud knew it really wasn't his fault that Zack died, somewhere deep inside him he knew that. But the surface of his mind could only replay the death in his head, over and over, whenever it drizzled or rained. He remembered every word Zack last spoke to him before dying, he remembered every detail of Zack's face, voice, tone, everything. Zack died to save Cloud, when the blonde had just been a little infantry man with too-big dreams of being a 1st Class SOLDIER. Zack was his best, and possibly only, friend at Shin-Ra Electric Power Company. Cloud had felt that it should've been him that died saving the other, because Zack had had a loving girlfriend to go home to, and a bright future as a SOLDIER. Zack had been his hero, his mentor, his closest friend. Cloud loved him.

But he knew there had been no way to save Zack. Aerith on the other hand... He should've stopped her death. She had been kind, sweet, innocent in a sense... Cloud knew, everyone knew, she didn't deserve death, not one like that, if one at all. Cloud could only stand and stare helplessly as Sephiroth shoved Masumune through her back, and out her chest. Cloud tried to warn her, tried to open his mouth and tell her to look out, yell at Sephiroth to stop, that it wasn't her he wanted dead at all. But his voice failed and his words fell useless and silent to the floor as Aerith's body went cold and still, bent over the silver blade, now bathed in blood. Cloud was forced to let her beautiful, broken body rest at the bottom of the lake in the City of the Ancients. Cloud missed her always, and hearing and feeling her in the rain and in his dreams wasn't enough. Cloud loved her.

It was too much, too much this time. He needed out of the drizzling wetness before it drove him insane. Cloud jerked his head up, the water dripping into his eyes, blurring his vision. He stumbled towards the black entrance of an alleyway - the first sign of shelter from the haunting rain. He collapsed upon reaching it, curling up near the entrance. He hoped and prayed no one could see him, hear him. Cloud didn't want to be seen like this, so weak, so fragile, so lost as if he were still that sixteen-year-old boy who foolishly believed in heroism through SOLDIER and Shin-Ra. It wasn't his fault he still loved them, still missed them and couldn't let them go. Now, don't get him wrong - he loved Tifa, he loved her to death. They had been childhood friends, then fighting partners against Shin-Ra, and now, fiances. But being around her tore him apart when it rained - it made him feel like he was disgracing the memory of his loved ones from his past.

Cloud could hear himself over the drizzling rain - he was making those whimpery noises men made when they were trying not to cry. He would not - he refused - he wouldn't let himself -

But, alas, here he was, a few tears creating trackmarks down his cheeks. He was a grown man, age twenty-three, but he didn't feel twenty-three. He felt like the Cloud that watched Zack slip away into death's embrace, innocence taken, heart-broken. He felt smaller, younger than he was. Did death do this to everyone? Or was it just him? Had he not given grief its time to pass over him, swallow him, and now it was catching up, twice as strong? Cloud didn't know. He just ached inside, hurt in a way he hadn't felt before, in a way that didn't even compare to being stabbed through by the long silver blade that was Masumune.

Sometime during his crying, with tears leaking from his squeezed-shut mako blue eyes and his shoulders shaking almost imperceptibly, someone was holding him. He would have protested - he really would have, honest - but the body behind him, the arms around him reminded him of Zack. Strong, stable, comfort. If he was foolish enough, if he was dumb enough, he could believe it was in fact the raven-haired SOLDIER. But Cloud could pretend, couldn't he? Just for a minute, just for a...

This was definitely new, Cloud thought. One hand reached up and wiped away his tears and the rain from his face, the familiar touch of leather gloves, as the other hand stroked his arm with a gentle thumb. But that wasn't got him - what got him was the soft, gentle kissing up his neck. He had never felt a mouth quite like this, thin lips with a tender caress, though they did remind him of Aerith with their kind nature. Cloud found himself leaning into the touch, arching his neck and exposing his throat. The lips moved to his sensitive throat and kissed him there too, each kiss promising comfort and soothing his tears. Cloud felt long strands of silky hair tickle his neck when the stranger leaned around to plant little kisses on him. The soft kisses made their way up his neck and along his jaw, eventually finding their way to his lips.

Cloud's eyes fluttered opened - there was no more pretending this was Zack or Aerith. Zack would never kiss him, never full-on the mouth like this. Aerith's lips were fuller, sweeter than this. But his lashes scraped against a leather palm and fingertips and he saw only blackness - the stranger was keeping himself a secret. Cloud didn't understand why they felt the need to hide themselves, but Cloud didn't protest. Their kisses were so tender, so affectionate. Cloud leaned up, trying to kiss back. Why? Why kiss this stranger? A thank-you perhaps, to the man - yes, Cloud could tell it was a man from the musceled torso he was leaning back against, from the strong arms around his chest that held him - who so willing helped him.

They kissed without tongues, the stranger and Cloud; this was healing, not hunger. Cloud tried to memorize, recognize the lips he was kissing. Who had he known with a mouth like this? Thin lips, with the lower lip fuller, soft to the touch, bittersweet to the taste? No man came to mind, but no matter. This was enough to soothe the ache, erase the pain if just for a moment.

Cloud felt the stranger pull away - both from the kiss and from his body. Cloud felt cold, empty at the loss. He opened his eyes, as he felt the hand slip away. But his bright mako-enhanced blue eyes saw no one, not even a trace of a person who had been holding him, kissing him. Cloud shouldn've felt used, crest-fallen, something of that variety. And truth be told, he was still downtrodden. But part of him had been uplifted. It confused him how a stranger could provide this comfort, but Tifa could not. Cloud wasn't a homosexual - his alone time with Aerith and soon-to-be marriage to Tifa proved that - and he felt embarrased that he'd given into the man's kissing. But this had helped soothe the ache... was that so wrong?

Cloud stood and straigtened himself up as he headed back to Seventh Heaven, where Tifa awaited him. He tried to push away the stranger and his kisses, his comfort, his touch, from his mind but yet they stuck. Why did this affect him so? He knew he wouldn't find an answer. All he knew was that he felt a little better than before the rain had begun. And look, the sun was trying to shine, breaking through the smoky clouds. Cloud looked up to the sky, where he could spot a streak of blue sky beyond the gray clouds, sunlight leaking through the cracks.

Wasn't this a good thing? Cloud couldn't answer as he entered Seventh Heaven.

Whoa, my first attempt at a story quiet like this, with mystery and angsty-ness. I mean, my poetry is one thing but this... this is way different for me. Anyway, reviews are super appreciated, thank you. 3 reviews and I will update, I promise! Any guesses on the mystery person?

Love,

Leopardheart-Naux-Kadaj