Rocking Chair
The summer sun had finally said its farewells. This sad thought sat heavily in Angeal's thoughts as the first of the autumn leaves crinkled under his feet. The verdant greens of August were slowly paling to gold, in welcome of September. Angeal used to love the fall transition when he was a boy in Banora. As the final days of summer ticked away, he'd find himself lingering at the fences of the dumbapple orchards in the evenings, eagerly waiting for the first leaf to fall.
Autumn in Banora was breath-taking. The countryside was ablaze with amber and crimson, and the leaves carpeted the fields as thickly as freshly fallen snow. And this year, the silvered skins of the Banora White proudly ornamented the arched boughs overhead. It was rare for dumbapples to decide they would grow in the proper season and Angeal had been thrilled to be on leave in his hometown as the infant fruits began to bud. Sadly though, that was all he would get to see before returning to Midgar.
Dragging a calloused hand through tousled, coal-dark hair, the nostalgic SOLDIER turned up his street. He'd grown so used to the muteness of his steps on the dirt road this summer that he was already dreading the hard slap of combat boots against asphalt. He'd miss the dreamy stillness of the country road and its tiny, fence-lined houses once he was back beneath the concrete towers. Regardless of his misgivings about city life, Angeal would never regret his decision to make the move and work for Shinra. The close quarters of the SOLDIER offices had benefited him far greater than the spacious farmlands. He had everything he wanted now because of that decision.
He was reminded of that as the broad verandah of his summer home peered around the bushes ahead. Pausing at the short gate to the property, he smiled to himself when he found his fiery-haired companion swinging on the chair beneath the shade of the porch. If he hadn't joined SOLDIER at Genesis's behest, would they be together like they were right now? He often wondered that.
It had been their second summer spent in Banora as a couple. The friendship that had been kindling between them for so many years had finally sparked into the next stage. After a few heated missions and panic over the resulting injuries, Angeal realized that his concerns for Genesis were far from platonic and after confessing those heightened feelings to him, Genesis revealed a similar passion in his own worries towards his friend.
The annual retreat to their hometown started as Genesis's gift to him upon the red-head proclaiming one day that Angeal was "homesick." He couldn't quite remember how the man had come to such a conclusion but, rather than lose the impossible argument over it, Angeal let himself be whisked off to the nearest train out of Midgar without complaint. As was always, Genesis had been right in his diagnosis. He hadn't realized how homesick he truly was until their feet touched the grass of the orchards once more.
Grinning at the memory of Genesis herding him out the door with an avalanche of suitcases at his heels, Angeal let the gate swing shut with a quiet squeak behind him as he strolled up the small cobblestone pathway to the porch. Curled like a lounging red tiger on the porch-swing, Genesis was contentedly pondering another verse from LOVELESS as Angeal approached. He leaned against the porch pillar at the top of the stairs for a moment, looking fondly at the thoughtful expression on his lover's face.
Auburn brows creased delicately at their corners as his vibrant, seafoam eyes gazed intently at the pages before him. The soft contours of his sun-kissed face were taut in concentration, and the lingering glimmer of his teeth as they sunk into the side of his lower lip revealed the depth of his thoughts. It wasn't uncommon for Angeal to find him in such a position during the lazy summer afternoons. Whereas Angeal dedicated his vacation days to benefiting the community through helping at local farms, Genesis spent them tirelessly immersing himself in his poetry.
Angeal was happy to see him in his element. As much as Genesis adored the fame and exposure that came with the title of SOLDIER First Class, it was during the many intimate moments they spent since getting together that the extent of his hidden longing for the orchards showed. Whether it be an occasional, wistful recollection of the past or a whispered sonnet of "forgotten fields in bloom," Angeal wasn't deaf to his suppressed longing. He was half certain that Genesis's insistence of it being Angeal's homesickness that drove them to return each summer to Banora was his own excuse for getting out of Midgar without revealing his discontent. Regardless of his methods, Angeal was more than happy to serve as his friend's cover, so long as they got to spend those summers together, away from all the stress and responsibility of SOLDIER.
"Are you lost?"
Angeal blinked himself out of his reverie to focus again on the comfortably folded body in the chair. Genesis's expression remained unchanged and his gaze continued to stay locked upon the book in his lap. The inquiring look Angeal sent him seemed to go unnoticed.
"Keep standing there like a stray puppy and you'll start worrying me."
The diamond-cut glimmer of Genesis's gaze flickered up to capture his, a playful smile lightening the already pale hue. Angeal smiled in return, straightening himself before finishing the distance between them.
"I didn't want to disturb you," he said as Genesis adjusted himself to make room for the man.
"Distraction is often times the best kind of disturbance," he replied, pushing his book and notes to the side so as to be blissfully ignored.
Angeal eased himself into the cushioned space that was cleared for him, giving a contented sigh as his weight lulled the swing into motion. Genesis sidled closer to him, tucking himself into the corner of Angeal's side, the other man's arm draping lazily along the top of his shoulders. The red-head breathed a rather relieved sigh into Angeal's chest, wrapping his slender arms around his waist.
"Writer's block?" Angeal asked, catching a glimpse of all the crossed off sentences on the pages beside them.
"If you say it you'll just give it more power," Genesis groaned, words slightly muffled as he buried his face deeper into Angeal's shirt.
His smile was amused in regards to Genesis's despair. Sometimes Angeal found his artistic struggles to be even more entertaining than the stories he penned. He didn't know why, especially when Genesis was far from amused when fighting with his muse. Maybe it was because of how passionate he was about it, given to pacing around the house with notes in hand, searching for extraordinary adjectives to describe ordinary things. Or maybe he enjoyed it so much because when Genesis got too frustrated to be inspired, he would pounce on Angeal to occupy himself instead.
"Don't feel too bad," Angeal assured him, turning his thumb in circles around Genesis's shoulder. "You've accomplished more writing this summer than you ever have in Midgar."
"I can't fathom why," Genesis grumbled. "There's so little to write about here. Nothing ever happens."
Angeal's smile might have fallen if he didn't already suspect that the poet was wearing a disguise to smother his love for Banora. He wished that he wouldn't though. There was nothing embarrassing about having grown up in the little town – at least, not as far as Angeal was concerned. Perhaps it was the allure of stardom that persuaded him to disregards his origins. Perhaps he feared people would think less of him – although being raised in the land-owner's manor gave plenty to brag about. As long as Angeal had known him, there was so much about Genesis that continued to mystify him. Regardless of his hope that it was just an act, Angeal couldn't help but feel a disheartening prick in his chest upon hearing his words.
"You think Midgar gives you more inspiration?" he asked, speaking carefully so as not to sound as if he were accusing Genesis of abandoning Banora.
"At least there's plenty of action in Midgar," Genesis answered, sitting up with an admiring twinkle in his eyes. "There's no limit to the epic tales that could be told of the great heroes of SOLDIER, unafraid for their own lives as they charge across the battlefield, devoted to defending the people, no matter the cost to themselves."
His face was adoring as he looked out across the lawn, his head filled with thoughts of glory and heroism. It was only at times like these that Angeal acknowledged what Midgar meant to Genesis and what it symbolized. He had said to him once that there was nothing for him in Banora, and as much as it had hurt him to hear, Angeal had known he was right. Genesis was no lap-cat, content to sit idly while he was groomed to achieve what everyone else expected of him. His potential had always been smothered and he had been condemned for his dreams of becoming a hero. There were few happy memories for Genesis in Banora, outside of the ones the two of them shared. Angeal knew he had no right to guilt him into preferring their birthplace over Midgar.
"You're eager to get back," he stated, his eyes on the changing colors of the trees.
"I'm not eager for the loads of paperwork Lazard's saved for us," the red-head chuckled, the sound of a sneer in his voice as he predicted butting heads with the Director again.
Angeal's smile was absent in response. He wouldn't mind the paperwork so much. He wouldn't mind the lull in the chaos that came with being a SOLDIER. That was why he treasured those dwindling summer days, swinging on their creaking white chair, free of conflict and the despair that came along with it. While the men of SOLDIER were engineered towards achieving invincibility, Angeal still had said too many farewells to bloodied and bandaged boys in the long years he'd served Shinra. And although he had complete faith in Genesis's enviable abilities, his mind would never be fully assuaged of its apprehension that one day it could be his beloved that came back on a stretcher. As much as Genesis loathed it, Angeal was secretly grateful that Lazard burdened him with so many files before letting him out on the field. The greater the delay in going into battle, the better – no matter how much Genesis complained. Angeal would rather listen to him whine than listen to nothing at all.
The brunette was roused from his musings by a sudden, gentle prodding against the side of his head, accompanied by an odd question: "Where are you going?"
Angeal looked back at him, perplexed, Genesis wearing an expression of barely controlled impatience at being ignored. Angeal didn't need to ask what he meant, knowing that now he had his attention, Genesis would readily supply a clarification.
"Where are you going," he asked again before lightly tapping Angeal's forehead and adding, "in here?"
Angeal's smile was solemn in response and it made the slightly irritated look on Genesis's face soften in curiosity – and a little bit of concern.
"No where you'd want to go," Angeal teased him.
Genesis's eyes narrowed, unconvinced by how his friend brushed the topic aside before it'd even begun. Angeal caught the persistent hardening of his stare but, not before he could deter the man from catching him in his snare of interrogation.
"You're doing it again," Genesis informed him, and once more, Angeal hadn't the faintest idea what he meant.
Deciding it was just simpler to indulge him instead of evading, Angeal responded with an already exasperated, "What?"
"You're covering. You're pretending that there isn't something bothering you."
"I'm not pretending," Angeal laughed to hide his lie. "There just isn't anything that bothers me."
"You were born without a deceptive bone in your body, Angeal, so stop trying to fool me – it's embarrassing."
Genesis's voice rose with intolerance, patience never being something he excelled at. The preternatural glow of mako energy flared unhappily in his fixed gaze and he was intent on staring Angeal into submission. It wasn't hard to do. There was no point in keeping things from Genesis. He always got what he wanted, no matter what means he had to go through to obtain it. Rather than start a war over it, Angeal was always quick to concede.
He sighed in surrender, pulling a hand through his dark hair in exhaustion. Mentally grappling with Genesis was one of the most strenuous activities he'd ever partaken in.
"Fine," he said, pressing the heel of his palm to his closed eyes. "You want me to be honest?"
"Have I ever asked you not to be?"
Angeal's smile was curt in response. Sometimes he couldn't help but wish that he wasn't so honest with Genesis. Half of the time when he voiced his thoughts, they ended up clashing with Genesis's (very stubbornly defended) opinions. Angeal hated confrontation, especially with Genesis. It was like bashing his head into a brick wall to try and persuade him towards Angeal's reasoning. But, it was even harder to say nothing at all once Genesis suspected he had something to say.
"I'm just not as eager to return to Midgar as you are," he finally admitted, fingers massaging his temples in anticipation of the impending headache.
"What's wrong with Midgar?" Genesis pressed, raising a quizzical brow.
"Nothing…"
The look he felt upon him was scalding - enough to make him visibly wince and orchestrate an elaboration, which ended up ringing very true.
"It's just like you always say: I get homesick. That's all."
The burning sensation of Genesis glaring at him cooled a few degrees and when Angeal chanced a glance towards him, his gaze was pondering.
"Banora will always be here," he assured Angeal, confused by the apparent severity of his friend's nostalgia.
"I'm aware of that," Angeal replied, giving Genesis a pointed look. "Summer's just too short, is all."
He didn't expect Genesis to understand, no matter how much he might want to. He wasn't sentimental like Angeal was. He always had to be moving forward and seeking out new opportunities for himself. His fierce determination was one of the many things about him that Angeal had fallen in love with. He didn't want to jeopardize that by pulling him back.
The silence that fell between them was weighted with Genesis's prying stare and Angeal's refusal to meet it. Angeal distracted himself from the feeling of imminent doom by opening his ears to the summer sounds; that of the humming of insects in the trees, the melodies of bird perched on barn rooftops, and the whisper of a pre-autumn breeze through drying leaves. Banora was so much more alive than Midgar. How did Genesis not at least see its beauty above his own tarnished past?
Genesis startled him when he suddenly fell down into Angeal's lap, stretching his long body along the length of the chair with feline grace. He settled his head against Angeal's thighs like a pillow, closing his eyes with an impish smile playing about his lips. Angeal blinked down at the sprawling SOLDIER in bewilderment. Genesis peered at him with one eye open, his pestering stubbornness replaced with that of diabolical mischievousness.
"You'll tell me one way or another," he declared with the utmost confidence. "You know that I always eventually find out what I want."
The glint in his eye was dangerously suggestive. It pierced through Angeal's defenses with merciless aim, directed to his guarded vulnerabilities that only Genesis knew the secret to divulging. Angeal gulped down the mingled feelings of excitement and apprehension that were stirred by Genesis's look, donning a smile that failed to fully mask the effect the red-head had on him.
"I have been trained to withstand torture, you know," he said, unable to stop himself from playing into whatever Genesis was tempting him with.
The poet's smile stretched into a Cheshire grin as his lover nibbled at the bait. Adding further want to the trap, Genesis snaked an arm up along Angeal's chest until his fingers stopped to tease at the ends of his hair. He pouted in response to Angeal's previous words, stating pitifully, "I don't want to fight when our vacation's almost over."
"I'm sure we can negotiate a peace treaty," Angeal replied, weaving his fingers through the scarlet tresses splayed against his jeans.
Genesis's arm slipped through Angeal's dark mane of hair to loop snugly around his neck, which he used to lift himself back up to eye level. Giving his hair a stately little toss that left it to fall into an alluring position, just barely shadowing his eyes, Genesis drew himself nearer, until his nose brushed against Angeal's. He was magnetized to the bewitching blue stare, glittering cat-like in the light of the setting sun. His grin melted into a lazy smirk as he tilted his face to the side, drawing his other hand up to smooth lovingly along Angeal's cheek.
"Why keep all those feelings bottled up inside," he murmured, "when you could just let me make them all go away?"
His voice was a luscious drawl against Angeal's face, with hot breath perfumed by a homely spice whose identity was yet another mystery of Genesis he had yet to decode. He slipped ever closer, lithe fingers curling around Angeal's chin with a subtle pull that guided his already parted lips closer to his. Desire flushed through him, hooding his eyes and tightening his grip where his hands had alighted upon Genesis's hips. It was at this point in Genesis's enrapturing game of seduction that Angeal couldn't even come close to denying him anything he wanted. He was sure Genesis was well aware of that. He merely needed to suggest that Angeal tell him what he wanted to know for his lips to loosen, so hypnotized was he by his spell. A mild growl of impatience drummed in Angeal's throat when Genesis suddenly abandoned the attempt for a kiss to slide his lips to Angeal's ear, and whisper:
"Beat me to the bedroom and I'll quit bugging you about it."
Angeal hardly had half a second to comprehend the words before his seducer sprung from the swing and darted through the house's screen door, a trickle of laughter caught between the rattling against the frame. He sat stunned, hands clenching empty air. He gave a disbelieving sigh and dropped them to his sides. He chuckled in spite of himself, smiling at the cooling summer breeze as realization dawned on him. Just as he let himself be used to distract Genesis from his writer woes, the poet was giving him the opportunity to abandon his worries just the same. People often dared to claim that Genesis was shallow and cared only for his own ambition. They were only half-right. Genesis's sensitivity towards others' feelings was over-looked in the quest to criticize him, and Angeal was very fortunate to be able to experience it more often than others ever would.
"Angeal, you're losing!" came the call from inside.
Rolling his eyes at the childish whine, Angeal hoisted himself to his feet and hurried after him, the soft creak of the chair swinging upon its chains left to say farewell to the summer, alone.
A/N: I can't tell you how long I've been trying to write this. I must have started this after the first time I played Crisis Core - which is maybe two or three years ago now. For some reason, I kept abandoning it, whether it be because I was distracted by another project or I just couldn't get into the mindset of the characters, etc., etc., etc. I put it off for way too long and it was weighing on my conscience that it was just sitting in my notebook collecting dust so, I finally kicked myself in the ass and got it done.
I love this ship so much. It broke my heart during Crisis Core and I always get stuck after playing Angeal's death when I re-play and can't bring myself to keep going. Ergh, these two just kill me! So, I wanted to do at least something to show my love for them. Rather than write something sad, I went for happier days - pre-Crisis Core. I had the idea to end it on a somber note - something along the lines of this being the last summer they got to spend together before the events of Crisis Core took place - but, I restrained myself for the sake of my own emotional stability, and tried to keep it light.
I've got mixed feelings about the writing itself, characterization, and all the other mechanics. Constructive criticisms about such would be greatly appreciated if you find the time to review! :D
I hope you enjoyed reading. :)