.
Chapter title derived from "One Rainy Wish" by Jimi Hendrix.
۵۵۵۵۵
-Chapter Ten-
Mako Blue, the Color of the Dream I Had
۵۵۵۵۵
Merlin's stratagem of utilizing Traverse Town's well-oiled rumor mill to undermine the mayor turned out to be an overwhelming success, and for the second morning in a row, there were no customers in Second District. After clearing it of Heartless as well, Leon, Yuffie and Cloud once again found themselves with nothing to do. They picked off the occasional Heartless or two, and they waited. Leon found himself a comfortable spot on the wall.
Cloud was pacing back and forth in front of the First District door, glancing down at Leon every time he turned in his direction, and feeling a twinge of disappointment when, every time, he failed to catch the other man's attention, unaware of the grey eyes that followed him every time he turned around.
Yuffie pulled out her new weapon and started practicing to perfect her aim, for she still hadn't quite gotten the hang of it yet. Or the throw of it, rather. She adjusted the angle and tried again.
With a snap of her wrist, she sent the boomerang spinning out over the courtyard. It circled in a wide arc down to the Gizmo and then back again directly to her han– um, over her head and attempted to embed itself in Leon's family jewels. "Oops, guess you'd probably like to keep those, huh Squall?" She giggled. He shot her his most menacing glare and moved to a safer spot.
Her next attempt went sailing up over the fountain and crashed into the district door, whizzing over Cloud's head and almost lopping off his uppermost spike. "Sorry there, Cloudy Boy," she called up to him. "You wouldn't mind tossing that back down to me, would you?"
"Yes," he answered emphatically. "You're going to kill one of us with that thing, Yuffie. Why don't you just stick to your shuriken."
Drawn by all the commotion, three Yellow Operas popped in, which Cloud promptly disposed of and pocketed the spoils – eight munny, two ethers, and a thundara ring. Not a bad haul for three little Heartless.
He had already accumulated a fair amount of munny over the past two days; it was obvious that the other two fighters had been hanging back, allowing him to claim most of the kills – and the loot. He figured that Leon was doing it so he could contribute his fair share to the household, but he couldn't fathom what had come over Yuffie. Unless Leon had threatened her... At any rate, Cloud was grateful for the chance to pay his own way.
Which reminded him...
He excused himself from his two companions and entered the clothing store, intending to pay off his bill, but found it had already been paid. Then he went to the apothecary where he had purchased a few toiletries, but found that bill already paid as well. Suspecting that Leon would refuse any attempt to reimburse him, Cloud decided to reciprocate with his own gift instead. And he knew just the thing.
The pharmacy had a surprisingly extensive selection of essential oils, and they appeared to be of excellent quality as well: "Mixed to Your Own Specifications', the sign said. Cloud approached the young woman behind the counter and asked what she recommended for headaches.
The young lady, who turned out to be both knowledgeable and nice, suggested a blend of lavender and peppermint, both excellent choices for headaches. But Cloud wanted something relaxing as well since he was planning – well, hoping – to use it right before bedtime, and though lavender fit that bill nicely, he knew that peppermint was too stimulating. And besides, he didn't think he could stomach the smell; peppermint had been Sephiroth's favorite.
Well, at least he had the man to thank for his skill, Cloud reminded himself sarcastically, a bitter taste filling his mouth. It had been at Sephiroth's insistence that he had learned the art of massage. That way, the bastard had reasoned, after satisfying his sexual kinks, Cloud could work out the kinks in his muscles as well. Always one for efficiency, the General.
Cloud wrenched his rancorous thoughts away from the distasteful memory and forced himself to focus on the much more palatable present, reminding himself that this wasn't about him, or Sephiroth; it was about Leon, and the thought of the handsome brunet immediately made him feel better.
Leon hadn't said a word this morning about the previous night's massage, so Cloud hadn't brought it up either, but the mere fact that the reserved man had allowed him to continue after his five minutes was up was a positive sign in Cloud's mind. At least he hadn't said anything negative: No news is good news... Realizing that a stupid grin was spreading across his face, Cloud forced his mouth to return to a less revealing line, and returned his attention to the young lady behind the counter, who was watching him far too intently.
After discussing the properties of various oils with the genial girl, Cloud decided on a simple blend of lavender and chamomile in a sweet almond base, which readily penetrated the skin, yet would allow enough time for a thorough massage before being fully absorbed. And since it was non-greasy, it wouldn't make a huge mess of Leon's sheets – something that Cloud had a feeling the meticulous man wouldn't appreciate much.
Satisfied with his selection, Cloud paid the young woman and insisted that she accept the thundara ring as thanks for her cheerful assistance. Then he tucked his purchase under his arm and rejoined his companions outside, completely oblivious to the dreamy look in the poor girl's eyes as they followed him out the door.
Yuffie immediately ran over and tried to pull the package from his hands, pestering him about what was in it until he finally shut her up by insinuating that it was some sort of medicinal ointment for a very rare and disgusting – and also quite contagious – rash from which he was suffering on a very personal but undisclosed part of his body. After that, she couldn't get away from him fast enough.
Leon only raised an amused brow and wondered if the same clever tactic would work twice on Yuffie.
۵۵۵۵۵
After closing up the district, Yuffie decided to hang out at Cid's for a while and took off for First. The two men stopped by the house to drop off Cloud's purchase and grab a bite to eat. Then Leon grabbed a case of water, and they were off once again to the waterway.
Cloud was prepared for the shock of the color this time and quickly overcame his apprehension, only the slightest flicker of hesitation marking his entrance into the cave. Today, his composure was far more ruffled by Leon, who went directly to the crate to put away the water and then removed his jacket.
Cloud could only stare helplessly. Leon never removed his jacket.
Even at home, the only time Cloud had ever seen Leon without his jacket was when he changed into the loose-fitting pants and baggy shirt he wore at night, and they didn't show off his finely toned body the way this outfit did. And boy, did it ever.
Of course, Cloud was already painfully familiar with the contoured fit of Leon's leathers over the sensual curve of his ass, and he was certainly no stranger to the shape of Leon's finely muscled thighs and Leon's beautifully muscled arms, but the pronounced swell of prominent pectorals, the subtle nubs of firm nipples and the faintly outlined ridges of chiseled abdominals beneath the form-fitting shirt were all new and wondrous sights.
Even after having his hands on Leon's back last night, seeing those muscles slide beneath the thin veil of fabric was an altogether new and, uh, stimulating experience, and the view was so stunning it almost made Cloud take leave of his senses, followed shortly thereafter by the loss of a properly functioning body, leaving him weak in the knees and struggling to control the only body part that seemed to still be working just fine.
The thought crossed Cloud's mind that perhaps Leon had done it on purpose as a strategic move to disadvantage him, and when Leon cracked his knuckles, looking at Cloud with a seriously sexy smirk on his face, Cloud was convinced that was, in fact, the case. Then Leon stretched those gorgeous arms out in front of him, fingers interlocked with palms facing outward, and flexed all those beautiful muscles, and Cloud considered just tossing in the towel before they even got started. He made a valiant effort to focus on his own defense rather than Leon's physique, but when the seriously sexy smirk turned into an even sexier, serious look, and Leon stated very quietly in his deep, husky voice, "You're going down today, Strife," there was no doubt in Cloud's mind that he was indeed dead.
The spar was much more intense than the previous day's, now that they had a better sense of each other's abilities and weaknesses, and Cloud was correct in surmising that the win would be Leon's. Indeed, Cloud never regained his wits from Leon's devastating opening move, and the fight had been Leon's from the beginning. He attacked fast and furiously, barely giving Cloud time to recover before he was coming at him again, beating him back blow after blow, and it wasn't long before he had Cloud on his knees, and on the verge of begging for mercy – mercy from the very sexy lion in his face. The man deserved a damn medal for tactical brilliance; the winning blow had been dealt before he ever unsheathed his blade.
After it was over, Leon grabbed a couple of bottles of water and handed one to Cloud, then replaced the lid on the crate and hopped up to sit on the top of it. Cloud claimed a spot on the floor, leaning back against the crate, and the two men settled into a comfortable silence. Surprisingly, it was Leon who broke it.
Awkwardly, unaccustomed to making such statements, he said to the top of Cloud's head, "I wanted to thank you ... for last night. It felt good." God, that hadn't come out right at all. He flushed with embarrassment and hurriedly amended it. "I mean – for the massage."
The words sounded a little forced, but seemed sincere, and Cloud was flattered by the fact that Leon had even made the effort. He twisted his upper body around to look up and over his shoulder at the other man. "I'm glad you brought that up," he said, briefly meeting Leon's eyes before looking back down. "I think I can help you with your headaches."
"Oh ... thanks ... but that really isn't necessary."
Cloud didn't respond verbally, but Leon noticed the slight change in his bearing. He was trained, after all, to pick up on such details, on the subtle things such as body language that could give one the edge on an adversary. It was second nature to him now, something he did without thinking, but that didn't necessarily mean he understood the underlying emotions.
Anger and fear, determination and defeat; these things he was quick enough to recognize, for they were often encountered in battle, so it was no surprise that he instantly spotted the defeat in Cloud's posture. What did surprise him was that he also perceived the disappointment beneath it. He sensed Cloud's inner transition from a hesitant hopefulness to discouraged defeat as clearly as he would have recognized the outward signs of an enemy on the verge of surrender, and he wondered when he had gotten so good at reading people's feelings.
Or perhaps he was only good at reading Cloud's.
Perhaps he was only good at reading Cloud's because he didn't try to read other people's feelings, because, frankly, he didn't want to know – not that he tried to read Cloud's feelings. It wasn't like he made a conscious effort to understand the blond. He just did.
Or maybe he didn't. Maybe he wasn't reading Cloud correctly at all. Maybe he was merely projecting his own feelings onto th–
No, that didn't make any sense at all. Why would he be disappointed? Unless that meant that subconsciously ... he wanted Cloud to give him another massage?
Or maybe he was just disappointed with himself for disappointing Cloud. If Cloud was disappointed, that is. Cloud probably wasn't disappointed at all and here Leon was, feeling bad about something that wasn't even true, wasting all this perfectly good empathy for nothing. And Leon didn't have a lot of empathy to spare.
Oh hell, why did he even care! He'd never be able to figure it out; emotions were just too confusing, both his own and other people's. It was so much easier to simply feel nothing at all.
And since when did he concern himself with someone else's feelings anyway? Leon frowned.
Why the hell was he making such a big deal out of this; it was just a stupid massage. Did he have to analyze everything to death? He felt bad, Cloud felt bad, and the solution was simple. He was just a fucking coward. And damn if he hadn't given himself another headache. His frown turned into a scowl.
Rubbing at his forehead, Leon took a sip of water to wet his suddenly dry mouth and then stammered to Cloud's sagging shoulders, "But I guess ... I mean – if you really want to, that is ... I guess it would be okay."
Cloud immediately perked up. "That's great," he said, springing lightly to his feet and facing his friend. "We can start tonight.
"But understand that it might take some time to fix the problem. Pushing too fast could cause your muscles to seize up even further, and unfortunately, even taking it slow will probably cause some soreness – you'll likely feel worse for a while before it gets better."
"What's 'a while'?" Leon wanted to know.
"It's hard to say; everybody responds differently. Depending on how your body handles it, it could take weeks or even a few months to completely resolve the problem, but hopefully, you should start to feel better after a few sessions."
"So what exactly is the problem?" was Leon's next question.
"Well," Cloud said, wondering just how exactly Leon wanted it. The simple explanation would suffice for most people, but Leon would likely want details. Cloud decided to start with the short version and work his way up from there. "You have a very large knot right above your right shoulder blade – here," he said, reaching around Leon's body to point out the location, "in the levator scapula muscle. It's about the size of a golf ball."
"What's a golf ball?"
"Oh, right ... well, golf is a game," Cloud explained, "where you try to drive a hard little ball into a small hole with as few strokes as possible using woods, irons, and putters, which are long shafts with a head on th– uh ... never mind." He came skidding to an awkward halt when he noticed the growing alarm on Leon's face. "Ah ... anyway, it's about this big." He demonstrated with a curl of his fingers. It's probably taken a long time to build up to this point, possibly even years."
Leon nodded slowly, thinking it over. "Why?" As expected, the short answer wasn't enough.
Cloud took a deep breath and dredged up old, forgotten memories, searching through half-remembered lessons for the words that would satisfy Leon's need to know.
"Excessive stress to a muscle," he began, "even just repetitive overexertion – such as swinging a gunblade – can cause damage to the muscle, causing the body lay adhesive fibers between the injured tissues in order to protect them. Sort of like a band-aid," he explained. "When the injury is left untreated, those adhesions can cause stiffness and pain, further restricting movement and leading to further injury and more adhesive fibers and so on. Eventually, painful knots are formed."
"And that's what causes my headaches."
"Yeah," Cloud nodded, removing his gloves and taking a small step closer. "The large knot in your levator scapula" – he once again reached around and lightly tapped the spot above Leon's right shoulder blade – "triggers pain and stiffness in your shoulder and neck, in turn causing more stress, and more knots. You have several smaller knots in the upper trapezius, here ... and here" – he indicated, gently squeezing along the large ridge of muscle between the shoulder and the neck – "and here, in the deep posterior cervical muscle." He moved his hand up the back of Leon's neck to the base of his skull. "These are all trigger points for your headaches."
Cloud continued to work Leon's shoulders as he spoke, and Leon felt himself growing heavy beneath the other man's hands. He was so close now that Leon could feel the heat from his body, and he smelled like sweat and seduction, so dangerous in its allure that Leon had to struggle to steady himself against the onslaught to his senses. "So where'd you learn all this?" he asked sluggishly, swallowing thickly. His tongue felt like lead and his brain was half dead.
Cloud mumbled something about massage school, sounding somewhat uncomfortable, so Leon let it drop, along with his head, which landed in the middle of Cloud's chest. He thought about moving it, but before he could muster up the necessary effort, Cloud's fingers slid into his hair. Then those wonderful fingers began to work the back of his neck, and he lost all motivation to even try.
"Well, you're wrong about being pretty good," Leon mumbled into Cloud's chest, making one last attempt at lucidity. "You're a whole lot better than that." Then he let out a long, relaxed sigh and melted completely, too far gone to even be alarmed by his behavior. He turned his head so that his cheek was resting against Cloud's chest, and Cloud took another step closer to better support the brunet's boneless body.
"So," Cloud whispered into the soft hair tickling his collarbone, "we just have to work out all these knots and make you feel better." Cloud's words flowed directly into Leon's head, melodious and mellow, mixing with the strong, steady rhythm of his heart.
"Okay," Leon finally managed to respond as Cloud's hands continued to work their magic. His head was buzzing and his body thrummed. Cloud could just as well have said he was going to cut out Leon's heart and eat it for dinner, and Leon would have meekly agreed without so much as a whimper. Luckily for Leon, Cloud didn't.
What he did say, however, turned out to be almost as deadly.
It started out innocently enough – "And communication is important," – then moved into slightly more dangerous territory. "You have to let me know if something I'm doing hurts; if I'm using too much pressure, or too little." Then, with an audible smirk, but no warning, it veered boldly into the deadly part. "It's a lot like sex. If you want it to be really good, you have to let your partner know what you like."
The suggestion rolled off Cloud's tongue and slid into Leon's mind like honey, promising paradise and leading him astray, coaxing him towards sweet oblivion. Floundering in chaos with no mooring amid the confusion, Leon's mind wandered precariously down a perilous path, and his whole world held its breath as the self-delusions that had taken him a lifetime to justify threatened to collapse in the disbelieving blink of an eye.
He wondered if the blond knew as much about sex as he did about massage and found himself betting that he probably did.
And he's probably just as good at it too, Leon's runaway mind whispered before he could catch it, sending highly inappropriate ideas racing through his body and setting all the butterflies in his stomach aflutter. Ruthlessly, he forced his renegade thoughts back into submission, but it did little to settle his stomach.
Cautiously, he raised his head and gazed into Cloud's impossibly blue eyes, and what he saw there renewed the furious beating of a thousand little featherlight wings. It almost looked like ...
Fighting back the rising flood of fear, he braved another panicked peek and found nothing but calm blue skies. Whatever he thought he had seen there was gone, and he couldn't be sure it had ever been there.
No, he decided, he didn't know how to read Cloud at all.
While it was true that Leon didn't make an effort to read other people, he had to admit that he was a lot better at it than he let on; after all, most people were pretty transparent. But Cloud? Cloud was a complete mystery. When it came to the damn blond, Leon didn't trust his perceptions at all.
It usually wasn't that difficult to tell when someone liked him – of course he noticed the looks people gave him; he wasn't blind – but even when the attraction itself was obvious, the reason for it wasn't. Leon couldn't, for the life of him, understand why.
Sure, it was easy enough to understand the motives of someone like the waitress at the cafe; she just wanted to fuck him, and Leon knew she wasn't the only one. He was fairly used to that sort of thing and handled it well – by simply pretending it wasn't there. But someone like Aerith? Aerith wasn't the type of girl to be looking for a quick, meaningless romp in the hay; she was looking for a relationship. So why was she looking at Leon?
He was fairly certain that she was interested in him, or at least had been before Cloud showed up, and while she was definitely more subtle about it than the waitress, it was still fairly obvious. Leon recognized the same coquettish poses that Rinoa had used: the hands behind the back and the chest thrust forward, the innocent upturned face. And he found them just as annoying from Aerith.
Well, at least she didn't do that stupid little pointed-toe, side-to-side shuffle thingy with her foot that Rinoa had been so fond of. Did she think it was cute? Or had she been trying to get him to look at her leg?
And Quistis... Though she hadn't used the same coy mannerisms, and he had to give her credit for that, she had still made it more than sufficiently clear that she liked him.
But why?
Leon couldn't imagine what someone like Aerith or Quistis or Rinoa would want with someone like him. They were all very nice – and very attractive – women; he was certain they could have had their pick of eligible suitors. So why would they choose to give their affections to someone so ill-equipped to give them anything in return?
Leon was also aware that not all of his admirers over the years had been female; there had been a few males back at Balamb as well, even though that sort of thing was strictly forbidden. Sexual relationships of any nature were discouraged by Garden, and promiscuity was punishable by disciplinary action up to and including expulsion, but public scorn and total disgrace was a singular dishonor reserved for homosexuality alone. Relations between persons of the same gender was generally frowned upon by society at large, but that sentiment was magnified tenfold within Garden's military mentality. It was a moral abomination, a filthy, disgusting crime against nature, and it was drummed into the young, impressionable minds of every cadet.
Even to this day, all these years later, Leon had an irrational urge to pull the covers over his head when he thought about how foolish he had been, risking his very home and his future just to satisfy his raging teenage hormones. But then, he told himself, it had been that very risk – the thrill of danger and nothing more – that had made his encounters with Zell so exciting.
And better Zell than some clingy female looking for love, he had rationalized at the time; it was the only reason he had turned to another male to satisfy his stupid desires. Unfortunately, Zell had turned out to be every bit as clingy – possibly more. Thank god, Squall had come to his senses and gotten control over his hormones before suffering any serious consequences.
Zell, on the other hand, had never come to his senses, and his feelings for Squall had been about as subtle as Seifer's passion for pissing him off. But there had been others as well, less blatant, like Nida. Shy, quiet Nida with his circumspect glances and his tendency to fluster whenever Squall came up to the bridge.
At first, Squall had thought that Nida was just nervous around authority, but then he noticed that Nida was fine around Quistis and Xu. And he certainly wasn't afraid of Cid. Of course, Cid wasn't very frightening...
Squall had then thought that perhaps it was just his forbidding countenance that unnerved the pilot, but quickly dismissed that explanation as well; Nida wasn't that easily cowed. While Cid wasn't very intimidating, Seifer was, and Nida had always stood his ground before the head of the disciplinary committee's constant bullying; had held his own against the force of Seifer's bluster as steadily as he steered the Garden. It was only in front of Squall that he lost his composure.
Eventually, Squall had figured it out, of course, up there on the bridge one day, just the two of them – Nida all nervous blushes and longing looks...
It was the same sort of look that Leon could have sworn he had just seen on Cloud's face, and for a moment there, he had even thought that maybe Cloud liked him ... as in more than just a friend ... as in a romantic sort of way – but then it was gone, leaving Leon second guessing his own judgment. He almost slipped into the dangerous waters of wondering if he was merely projecting his own feelings again...
Quickly derailing that doom-train of thought, he peered into Cloud's eyes once more, attempting to ascertain what was hidden within their shimmering depths, but came up empty.
Cloud recognized the confusion in Leon's eyes, but misinterpreted its cause. "It's the Mako," he mumbled.
"What?"
"My eyes," he stated more clearly, "the glow ... it's the Mako."
"Oh," Leon answered, as if that cleared up the confusion, but his eyes were more perplexed than ever. They were swirling with silver now, a veritable mercurial storm.
"You were staring at my eyes." Cloud dropped his gaze from Leon's face and his hands from Leon's shoulders. "I thought ..."
"Sorry." Leon quickly dropped his own eyes. "I didn't mean to stare." God, Cloud probably got sick and tired of people staring at him all the time.
"It's okay. Everybody does it." Cloud shrugged and took a step back, mumbling as he turned to walk away. "I know they look weird."
Compelled by an impulse so powerful he didn't even have time to question its impetuousness, or its propriety, Leon jumped off the crate and grabbed Cloud's arm, spinning him around and piercing him with his fierce thunderstorm gaze. "People stare at your eyes because they're so damn beautiful," he blurted out before thinking it through. Then he realized what he had said and hung his head in mortification. He wondered if he could just stuff himself in the crate.
He never said things before thinking them through. Never. All the way through – inside-out and upside-down – over and under and back around through. Twice. Leon clutched at his stomach and stifled a groan. He felt ill. He was going to throw up.
It had finally happened; there was simply no other explanation: The Dreaded IBD.
Impulsive Behavior Disorder, also known in some circles as Laguna Syndrome. Symptoms included engaging mouth before brain and leaping without looking. Or in Laguna's case, looking, determining that leaping would be a very bad idea, and then leaping anyway.
Squall had been afraid once before, after doing all those crazy things for Rinoa – things like hoisting the comatose girl onto his back and then striking off down a set of abandoned railroad tracks with no idea what he would find at the other end – or jumping into space with very little oxygen and no plan at all other than 'Catch her!' – he had been afraid that being forced by Ellone to vicariously relive parts of Laguna's life had somehow caused the dreadful disorder to transfer to him, but luckily, it had turned out to be a simple case of Sorceress Possession instead. Then he learned the terrible truth and had lived in fear ever since: Laguna Loire was his father.
He'd had his suspicions before – Ellone's persistence in trying to change Laguna's past and her seemingly random insistence on involving Squall in that effort, the hints from Kiros and Ward on board the Ragnarok and Laguna wanting to 'talk' to him afterwards – and then, lost in time compression, he had seen it all, filled in all the previously blissful blanks: The birth of the child. The death of the mother. The move to the orphanage.
Raine Leonhart Loire. He had his mother's eyes.
And with those eyes, he could clearly see the future awaiting him – all the years of therapy with no cure in sight. He was doomed to be a moron for the rest of his life.
Determined to face this humiliating new affliction with courage and defiance, Leon forced himself to raise his head and meet Cloud's eyes, bracing himself for whatever mockery he might find there, but there was only a hint of curiosity and the smallest shade of a smile.
۵۵۵۵۵
They left the waterway through the culvert again, but this time, instead of turning left to go through the Dalmatian's house, they went straight down the alley behind the hotel and entered Second District through the door on the other side. Then they fought their way past the fountain, up the stairs and around to the First District door. Once they were safely inside the Heartless-free zone, they put away their weapons and headed to Cid's to see if Yuffie was ready to go home.
"Brat already left," Cid informed them, "but as long as you're here, how 'bout running your spiky ass next door and pick me up a pack of smokes. On second thought, better make it two," he added, opening the till and shoving a handful of munny towards Cloud. Cloud nodded and scooped the little crystals off the counter.
"That didn't last long," Leon said, turning his attention back to Cid once the other blond was no longer in his line of sight.
"Aw, shit no." Cid plucked the long straw from his mouth and tossed it in the trash. "These fuckin' things just don't pack the same punch."
"No, I guess not," Leon agreed.
"By the way, old Ninny Numbskull stopped by earlier and mentioned that his friend won't be needin' that house after all. I thought you might be interested – must be gettin' a bit crowded at your place."
Ah, no wonder Cid's latest attempt to stop smoking had ended in another failure. Even Leon had considered reaching for a cigarette a time or two after dealing with the mayor.
"I hear the place needs a shitload of work, though," Cid continued. "I guess the asshole that lived there before tore it up pretty good."
"The damage is mostly just cosmetic," Leon clarified. "Nothing major. I took a look at it after the guy first moved out, but the mayor didn't want me to do anything until he talked to his friend. But thanks for the tip. Cloud was just talking about getting his own place. He might be interested."
"Who might be interested in what?" Cloud butted in, walking in on the tail end of their conversation. He tossed the cigarettes on the counter and dug in his pocket for Cid's change.
"Cid just informed me that the one-bedroom house next door is available. We can go check it out if you like."
"Yeah, sure." Cloud answered, but his expression didn't look certain at all, and his voice was oddly lacking in enthusiasm.
۵۵۵۵۵
They stopped by the mayor's office first to confirm that the house was indeed available – not because Leon didn't trust Cid, but because he didn't trust the mayor. Hearing the words directly from the mayor, with Cloud as a witness, wouldn't insure that the mayor might not still change his mind anyway, but if he tried to deny that he had ever said otherwise, at least he wouldn't be able to turn it back on Cid. Leon had learned the hard way that when it came to the mayor, it was always better to hear it straight from the ass's mouth.
They had all been skeptical from the beginning about the existence of the mayor's friend; it was just too hard to believe that he actually had one. And now, after confirming that the alleged, never-before-seen friend had decided not to move to Traverse Town after all, Leon was convinced that he was only a fractured figment of the mayor's cracked imagination. Still, it annoyed him no end that the much-needed housing had been lying vacant for nearly three months, waiting for the mayor's fictional friend to show up.
Leon turned the key and pushed on the door, which was slightly warped and stuck from disuse. So he put a shoulder to it and shoved with a little more force than was probably necessary, taking out his annoyance with the mayor on the innocent slab of wood. With a groan and a creak, the door swung open, and Leon stepped inside the dark, musty house, Cloud close on his heels. "A little oil will fix that right up," he said, flicking on the light and looking around.
It was obvious that the living room walls had been far too familiar with someone's frustrations, and the ceiling appeared to have been intimate with someone's spaghetti dinner, but all in all, it wasn't as bad as it looked. Nothing that a little plaster and a lot of paint couldn't fix – along with some serious elbow grease. Luckily, the floor was hardwood rather than carpet, and in fairly good shape. A light sanding and a fresh coat of varnish would have it looking like new.
Leon went to the kitchen to check on the stove and plug in the refrigerator. Then he turned on the water. After a moment's delay, the pipes shuddered violently and gave a loud bellow, spit a few times, and then spewed forth some amber-looking liquid. He let it run until it ran clear and then moved on to the bathroom to repeat the process with the faucets in there.
Next, they inspected the bedroom, which was small, dark and dismal. The lone window was covered with blackout paper, and the curtain rod dangled precariously from one loose hook, which was barely hanging on, itself; the tattered curtains sagging forlornly like some last testament to despair. Like little white flags, too wretched to even wave a weak surrender, they hung there in silence, expecting no quarter and asking for none, which was good, for none they received.
Mercilessly, which in itself was perhaps a perverse form of mercy, Leon put a swift end to their misery. Then he turned his harsh judgment on the heavy black paper blocking the window. Meting out his justice with the same ruthless determination, he ripped it from the frame with one fell swoop, but the sallow light from the street lamp did little to improve the ambiance of the room.
"Well," he stated, undaunted. "Nothing that should take more than a few days to fix."
Cloud looked at the wallpaper, hanging from the walls in the same lifeless little shreds as the curtains, and raised a doubtful brow, obviously lacking Leon's level of optimism.
Leon looked around again, mentally ticking off his to-do list, and then shared it out loud with Cloud, counting off the days on his fingers.
"We can start with the plaster in the living room (one finger), and then strip off the wallpaper in here while waiting for that to dry (two). One day to sand and prime (three) and another one to paint (four) – maybe two, depending on how many coats (and that made five). Then two days to sand the floor and scrub the kitchen and bath (six, followed closely by seven, he calculated, moving onto hand number two). Then we lay down a coat of varnish (eight) and let it dry for a couple of days (nine, ten), and that concluded his enumeration, which was good since he was all out of fingers. Ten days tops," he stated confidently, displaying both hands with his fingers splayed, "and that's without even pushing it."
Well, it sounded like pushing it a lot to Cloud, but it wasn't that he was afraid of hard work. No, what frightened him was the way he was feeling, standing there staring at the depressing walls. He knew he should be happy to be getting his own place – it was what he had asked for, right? – but he couldn't seem to muster up any excitement. Still he knew his lack of enthusiasm had nothing to do with the state of his soon-to-be home – or perhaps Leon planned to take the new place for himself and leave Cloud with Aerith and Yuffie. But either way, in two weeks time, he would no longer be living with Leon.
But that was just silly, he told himself; it wasn't like he was never going to see the other man again. He was only moving one district away, not returning to a separate planet. Making a genuine effort to show a little more gratitude, he nodded at the man waiting patiently for his answer. "All right then, let's do it."
"All right." Leon nodded in return. "We can start tomorrow after lunch." Then they made their way back through the empty house, turning off the lights as they went, and closed the squeaky door behind them.
۵۵۵۵۵
Leon cast another anxious glance at Cloud as they stood side by side in the kitchen. He had been unusually quiet, even for Cloud, ever since leaving Cid's, and though Leon would rather spend a month with the mayor than admit it, it worried him.
He hadn't found it odd when Cloud remained silent at the mayor's; who would want to talk to that moron? And he hadn't been particularly surprised when Cloud seemed a little down at the vacant house; the place was rather depressing.
Then they stopped by the market on the way home to pick up a few items for dinner, and when Leon asked him if there was anything he wanted, Cloud had only shaken his head in response. Still, Leon hadn't thought much about it.
But when Cloud still hadn't said a word by the time they reached the house, Leon began to suspect that something wasn't quite right. And when he answered Aerith's question regarding his day with nothing more than an apathetic shrug, Leon decided that something was definitely wrong. Then Yuffie asked him what had crawled up his britches and burst his little happy bubble, and when Cloud merely scowled in reply and retired to Leon's room without so much as a single syllable, Leon started to worry. He carried it, along with the bag of groceries, into the kitchen where he could nurse it in private while fixing dinner.
But when Cloud joined him a short while later, wanting to know if there was anything he could do to help, Leon figured that he'd finally gotten over whatever had been bugging him. But now, here he was; just standing there, slicing celery in silence.
Leon finished cleaning the bowl of pea pods and set it aside, then leaned back against the counter and watched as Cloud expertly sliced an onion. "I thought you said you didn't know how to cook."
"I don't," Cloud grumbled, then realizing how childish he must sound, added with a sigh, "I used to help Tifa in the kitchen sometimes."
Tifa – He winced at the thought of his missing friend – Tifa would kick his ass all the way back to Midgar if she could see the way he was acting. Not to mention Zack and his mom... He was surprised they hadn't woken up already and started giving him an earful – well, a mindful. And they would be right; Cloud really had no reason to be so down. He had a lot to be thankful for.
Making a determined effort to shake off his sullen mood, he forced himself to continue in a more upbeat tone. "I suppose I'm competent enough at slicing and dicing, but the actual cooking is better left to someone else. I never really had a reason to learn; there was always someone else to do it for me – first my mother, then Shin-Ra, then Tifa... What about you, Leon? Where did you learn to cook?"
At the mention of Tifa's name, Leon's own mood had taken an irrational downward turn, and he withdrew into the familiar sanctuary of his own thoughts. He wondered if that's what was bothering Cloud; he was probably missing Tifa.
The reality of what had happened to his world was probably just beginning to sink in. Leon knew it took time, and that Cloud hadn't even begun to truly face it yet. He remembered his own despair after losing his world – the anger and frustration, the feelings of helplessness and failure – then the overwhelming sadness, and finally, after many long months, the beginning of acceptance. Now, after eight long years, life had settled into a mundane routine, and while he didn't have a lot to look forward to, nor did he suffer from constant regret. Then Cloud had fallen into his life, and Leon hadn't felt quite so alive in ages.
While they were checking out the house in First District, a plan had formed in Leon's mind, but in his eagerness to propose the idea to Cloud, he had forgotten to consider that Cloud might not feel the same way. For Leon, looking at the house was like looking at the future; it was the promise of possibilities and the hope of better days to come, but those hopes had fallen in the face of reality when he realized that, for Cloud, it was likely only a reminder that he couldn't go home.
Home.
To his world, to his life. To the people he loved.
How could Leon possibly expect Cloud to be happy about the prospect of living with him? While Leon had been lost in thoughts of what he stood to gain, Cloud had most likely been counting his losses.
"Leon?" Cloud's concerned voice called him back from his brooding.
"Oh ... right ... I, um ... cooking ... well, mostly self-taught," he finally answered. "I learned a little at Garden – everyone was required to know the basics – but I never really did much actual cooking until I got here. Then I didn't have much choice; there wasn't anyone else to do it for me."
Cloud stopped chopping and looked up at Leon. His own brooding suddenly seemed very petty. "It must have been hard," he said softly, "being here for so long ..." alone, he swallowed.
Leon didn't respond with words, but his dismissive shrug was answer enough. Then they both slipped back into silence, neither one of them able to think of anything appropriate to say. But it was a shared silence this time, and Cloud's somber mood seemed to brighten a bit, as if some inner demon had been exorcised with their short exchange. They traded sympathetic smiles and returned to their respective tasks, settling into a companionable quiet born of mutual understanding and shared experience. The zone where their separate spaces overlapped was a comfortable place.
Encouraged by the improvement in Cloud's humor, Leon decided to press forward with his plans. He poured a little oil in the wok and swished it around, then tossed in some chicken, and while it was browning, casually tossed out his idea. "I was thinking that the place in First District would be perfect for the girls," he said, then followed it with logical justifications for such a suggestion. "They'd be safer in First. And closer to Cid's – so Yuffie could go back and forth without any danger. And since they're already used to sharing a bedroom, that wouldn't be a problem...
"Then you could have the extra bedroom here..." He cast a guarded glance at Cloud to gauge his reaction. "Unless, you were thinking to room with Aerith..."
"Aerith? No – I ... Why would I?– No," Cloud stammered, caught completely off guard by the unexpected proposal and bewildered as to why Leon might think he wanted to live with Aerith. Unless... Perhaps he was merely feeling out Cloud's interest in Aerith? Attempting to make sure he wasn't stepping on anybody's toes?
"No, I don't want to live with Aerith," Cloud stated decisively, wanting to make it crystal clear that he had no romantic interest in Aerith. "But I should probably get a place by myself," he added, wanting to give Leon an easy way out, should he care to rethink his living arrangements now that he was free to pursue his own interest in Aerith. "You know, on account of my nightmares and all."
"Trust me," Leon assured him, "after the nightmare of living with Aerith and Yuffie for almost a year, putting up with yours would be nothing."
Attempting to hide the silly smile on his face, Cloud took a sudden, intense interest in the little kitchen. Actually, now that he really looked at it, it was quite a nice little kitchen, and furthermore, it was going to be his little kitchen.
In his own little home.
With Leon.