Title: Bruise
Fandom: FF7
Pairing: SxC
Rating: PG
Warnings: Shounen ai. If that's not your cup of tea, here's your chance to leave.
Disclaimer: Squeenix I not be.

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Bruise

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In retrospect, Sephiroth supposed, he should have known it would come to this. He should have known that the implications of starting a relationship with a mere cadet would be more complicated and more dangerous than the threat of any official reprimand, should they be found out. He should have known that his mindfulness of the boy's age wouldn't last. He should have known keeping their encounters chaste wouldn't work.

Cloud released a soft gasp as Sephiroth carefully pushed the shirt from his shoulder, revealing a hideous purple bruise that was spreading fast, a paler bluish tint along the edges, darkening towards the center. The boy stiffened as he gently probed the injury with his fingers, trying to assess the extent of the damage. He looked up into Cloud's face, seeing him grit his teeth and screw his eyes shut, and withdrew his hand.

"Wait a moment," he instructed, got up from the sofa and left the room.

Sephiroth knew that he ought to take the boy to the infirmary, where he would be properly examined and treated, where they would be able to give him something to ease the pain, but he was also aware that it would raise questions, were the General to show up with an injured cadet, and there was always someone who could not keep their mouth shut. The rumor mill was cruel and unforgiving; he was not afraid of the damage it could do to his reputation - half the military thought him a monster anyway, so why not add corruption of a minor to the list of things that they were saying about him, and really, who would they replace him with if demands to strip him of his rank arose? - but he knew Cloud would bear the brunt of it should their relationship come to the light. Sephiroth could easily imagine the whispers that would follow him everywhere, the sneers and jealousy, the contempt from his peers and superiors alike. That was to say, if the higher-ups did not find some way to blame the entire affair on Cloud first, saying that he seduced the illustrious General to gain favors of some kind, and kicked him out of the SOLDIER program, perhaps even the entire military, to save face.

So Sephiroth took Masamune from the rack and returned to the living area, where Cloud hadn't moved an inch.

The yellow glow of the scan spell thankfully revealed no fractures, which meant he could use a cure without worrying about broken bones knitting themselves together in the wrong way. Unfortunately, he didn't keep anything in the way of medical supplies in his own apartment, nothing except a salve to soothe the burn of Mako treatments, but it would have to suffice.

To his surprise, though, Cloud refused the proffered jar, looking at him with a stern, eerily observant expression that suggested he knew exactly that Sephiroth was trying to put distance between them and wouldn't allow it.

Usually, Sephiroth liked those glimpses of fight in the blond, but right now he would have preferred to keep his hands to himself to prevent them from causing more pain.

"Uhn!" Cloud said when the cold substance touched his warm skin.

Sephiroth hummed an apology and began to spread the salve as gently as he could, without applying unnecessary pressure. The bruise had stopped expanding, at least, something for which he was grateful. He should have known better than to indulge his desires and attempt a relationship with a boy nine years his junior, who did not have the protection Mako enhancement offered him, a boy who - with his fine features and delicate build - may as well have been a porcelain doll in the hands of a careless child.

And as much as Sephiroth hated to admit it, he had been both childish and careless. Childish to disregard the reality of his existence, and careless in exposing Cloud to this childishness. It was nothing short of a miracle that nothing had happened until now, with Sephiroth's ignorance and the cadet's boundless, misguided trust. What if, instead of squeezing Cloud's shoulder in a passionate moment, he had crushed his ribcage with a rough embrace, or snapped his spine with a strong shove?

The thought made him feel vaguely ill.

Of course, the safest and most logical solution would be to simply end things between them and go back to keeping his distance, except if things were that simple, they wouldn't have come to this point. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to contain his attraction before, by telling himself it was the moral thing to do - he was Cloud's commanding officer, after all, and the boy was very much underage - which had led to him kissing the blond a scant two weeks after this resolution, and only growing bolder ever since then.

Cloud's quiet "thank you" pulled him from his musings, and Sephiroth realized he must have stopped spreading the ointment a little while ago and was instead gazing at the contrast of his own pale hand against the vivid, angry purple of the bruise. He knew he should apologize, but he also knew that Cloud would not accept it, as foolishly trusting as he was. He clamped down on the irrational surge of anger. Getting angry at Cloud would not only serve no purpose, it would also be unfair.

Instead, he kissed the boy's temple once, twice, and murmured, "You should head back. I'll tell Zack to go easy on you tomorrow."

For a moment, Cloud looked like he wanted to object, then nodded and stood, allowing Sephiroth to show him to the door. He reached for the doorknob, faltered and turned back around, grabbing Sephiroth's ungloved hand. He bit his lip and something seemed to shift behind the blue of his eyes, making the eerie transition from hesitance to steel.

He covered Sephiroth's hand with both of his smaller ones and laid a quick kiss to his knuckles. "If I tell you that you shouldn't beat yourself up over it, you won't listen to me, will you." It was not a question. "So, just promise not to beat yourself up over it too much, okay?"

Before Sephiroth could find a suitable reply, Cloud had slipped out the door.

Sighing, the silver-haired man turned back to the empty living room, his gaze falling to the open jar of ointment still sitting on the sofa's armrest. Severing their ties would be so much easier if his feelings had been based on nothing but sexual attraction. Whatever his feelings, though, they were the first good thing to enter his heart in a long, long time, something he selfishly wanted to keep. However, if he did not want to accidentally kill Cloud in a moment of pleasurable abandonment, he would have to come up with a plan.

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TBC?

A/N: A long time ago, I thought I was going somewhere with this. Now, I'm not so sure. I'll leave it unchanged for a while, until inspiration strikes again and I figure out what exactly this thing has to offer. Please don't beat me for it? (looks hopeful)

C&C makes you my favorite readers in the whole world. :-)