Title: Loving Corpses
Summary: Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.
Warnings: boy/boy, dark themes
Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Not mine.
"'I sacrifice my vanity, yet still you seek me out. I do not behave as ladies would, yet still you come around. Of all my imperfections, you still see only me. I've waited all my life for this; is it love? How could this be?'"
"Let me guess, that's where the story ends?" Cloud asks after a moment's silence.
"There is an extended ending, but Yulyen never translated it. He claimed that when he went to translate it, he had gotten more experience as a writer and realized that explicitly saying whatever Kahn decided and going through the whole process was completely unnecessary, and instead leaves the reader with the image of Kahn distressing over the fact that Mobius clearly loves him, even after he sheds his qipau and cosmetics, revealing he is a man. He wanted readers to use their own imaginations to find a happy or not-so-happy ending."
The incubus thinks a moment. "I think Kahn did love Mobius."
"Why's that?" Genesis asks, intrigued.
"Well, in the beginning, he was telling him about how the other costumers didn't treat he and the ladies right, and how he appreciated the kindness. Then his inner thoughts about being so flustered with Mobius' hands on him -I don't think he would have just been so embarrassed about it if he didn't at least like Mobius, after all, he'd left the room with all the other guys like that. Not to mention, he'd been starved for romance his entire life, any love he's ever felt was friendship to the geisha; of course he would fall for Mobius, who loved him no matter what."
"You've read a lot into this. I'm...impressed..."
"Oh, sorry, I rambled..."
"No, it was good. You normally haven't said much about what you thought of these stories until now, it seems you're starting to form opinions of your own."
"Um...thank you, Gene..."
Angeal cuts in: "You and Zack were from such backwater towns; you didn't get the experience of learning this stuff in school. He really is complimenting you."
Vincent stays silent. He doesn't mind, though. It had been a long time since he'd heard that story. Have Your Way with Me had come out when he was barely a teenager; he remembered sneaking it into his room and reading it in secret.
What drove you to read it, anyway?
I was a rebellious teenager, it was a controversial book, and my mother disapproved of it, of course I was going to read it.
...Do you think Kahn loved Mobius?
What, you actually listened to all that?
... ... ...It's better than listening to your depressing whining all day...
Huh, the demon cares about something, the cloaked man teases. It's not often he gets such opportunity. Vincent had never been considered cruel by anyone, with perhaps the exception of Hellmasker when he wanted to rampage, but Chaos was long overdue for a dose of perspective.
You didn't answer me...
You were serious? The demon stays quiet. Oh... Well, I suppose. I remember at least wanting for Kahn to love him back... Why do you care about romantics all of a sudden?
It's not exactly 'all of a sudden,' sweet. I've been in your head for...how long? Twenty so years now? And you've forgotten our every encounter mere hours after they occurred, sleeping away in that confounded coffin. You don't know as much about me as you might think. In fact, I know more about you than you do. No, this is not recent. I've often pondered the romantics of your past race, and you've polluted my mind so I understand.
...You should think about that type of thing with other demons.
Chaos remains silent.
Vincent looks up, suddenly noticing the blond's lack of voice, only to find the aforementioned's eyes locked on his, glowing blue seeking burning scarlet, couriers to relay a soft message: 'I can hear him.' Cloud shivers from the tickling sensation of the eldest man's cape brushing him during his exit. "I'll be right back..."
The younger ravenet looks to Genesis questioningly, but he only shakes his head in response, Autumn rowan strands swaying. Angeal sees him for a moment. Really sees him, the way he had when they were children. Remembers how he fell in love with him, remembers nothing was sexual -but merely curious- about the other boy...
He was in a tree,
Far above, much too high
For me
He looked down
And I looked up, too high
For me
He called me 'welcome,'
Beckoned me there, too high
For me
But still, I tried
And so I fell, too hard
For me
Then he rushed down
And panicked, too alarmed
For me
He carried me home
And kissed every scrape, just right
For me
Cloud stands near the tall man, not too close and not too far, enough to make his presence known. "What do you think?" Vincent asks suddenly, looking to him.
"A-about what?"
"Born demons, lusting after humans... No, more than that; born demons wanting companionship with humans," the crimson-eyed man clarifies, looking to the juvenescent eyes of the younger.
They just stare like that a while, the youth contemplating his answer. "I...I don't think it's ridiculous or wrong or anything. Just...a little strange. Like realizing someone loves you for the first time. It's shocking, but it's still love. And love is a gift, even when you don't have the same kind to give back," he finally answers with something like determination. The carmen-clad man turns away, and makes a soft, unknown sound. He's laughing at me! Cloud realizes."Did I say something funny?"
"I suppose not. It's just...that look about you, or maybe the way you said it. You were so serious. Everyone else I've ever known was too scientific to talk like that about love. It was unexpected. But also...kind of nice. Thank you, Cloud; I'll be able to think about it properly now."
"Sure..."
"Everyone's gone...just...gone," the younger sighs. "You won't leave, will you?"
Sephiroth had never been one for lying. Never really saw the point; it usually backfires. But he knows that if he says 'I don't know,' it wouldn't do a very good job to comfort the young SOLDIER. One small white lie couldn't hurt, could it? "No, Zack. I'm right here."
The teen looks up. "You've never called me that, before."
"Was I not supposed to?"
"No, no, it's fine. It's better; less formal."
'I'm right here.' That's what he said. But if his criminal lover asked him to join them, he really doesn't know what he would say...
And it's no less than a metaphorical slap in the face to see the blond the very next day. "Cloud," he vocalizes in acknowledgement.
"Hello, love..."
"Why do you sound so..."
"So what, Sephiroth?"
"Whimsical, I suppose..."
"I just...I don't know anymore... I don't have much time so I wanted to see you, at least one more time."
"One more time? What do you mean 'One more time?!'"
"It will all come together soon, Seph. Just hold me for now, won't you?"
My boy leaves corpses,
So I dig up all the graves
To find the lovers
He once loved
And kiss away his pains
Oh, how strange, our love
The clearest revelation
The undertaker
And undead,
In such lewd relation
I build him coffins-
Boxes thrown into the ground-
Such pretty things to
Think about
With all their secrets bound
It's not just my job
And certainly not for play
To dress his feelings
Nicely and
To send them to the grave
Walk the cemetery
To see all the cracking stones
Watch him in that dress
Dead men hate
And feel his shaking bones
Visit the wardrobe
Where his skeletons reside
Pick a decent one
To dance with
And from the world to hide
He's crying. Sephiroth knows; he doesn't need to see. Lungs that don't need air shaking the cages around them and the blond trembling in his grasp, even as the adolescent pushes his partner farther into himself. A whimper, that's all it really takes for the gates to open, and the teen is a sobbing wreck. The silveret caresses his face, knowing just how to soothe his illegal lover even in the ink-like darkness. "Don't stop...Sephiroth...please, keep going." Cloud didn't follow enough rules before he came to see his inamorato. He remembered: Don't kiss train wrecks, but knives are okay. Wear lip balm if you absolutely must kiss the knife. Only let clean knives in your chest, as rusted ones will cause infection. He just forgot a rather important rule: Don't let the knife leave with a piece of your heart...
He wants to be to the right of every vulgar and loving verb his long-haired lover knows, and he can think of a more than a few good prepositions, but he needs to stop crying if he wants it to go right. Sephiroth wonders if this is his fault. Or maybe some of the other people they've loved... Genesis, who fell in love with the lion and lost all sense of fear. Zack, who falls in love right now with the tightrope and nothing seems to get him high enough. Maybe even the blond below him, who is just too damaged not to accept love of any kind. What would have happened if he had met them all a little sooner? Before everyone's souls had gotten so beaten up? Maybe they would all still be together... But he doesn't know the first thing about fate; doesn't know the Goddess would still have to be saved because they love him so much, especially Cloud. Oh how they love him... A tragic sort of love; a love that always seems to fall apart.
"Please, Seph, I'm fine. Move."
And he does, kissing slowly every piece of body reachable in the current position.
The main verb he wants Cloud in front of is 'love.'
A/N: Romantic chapter! Kind of sad...but so is the rest of the story.
Thank you, all my supporters. By the way, we've passed 2,000 views! But only a little over half made it further than the first chapter... Still counts, though! Kudos to anyone who figures out the pattern to Angeal's poem (hint: no, I don't mean his repeated line, though, yes, that is a pattern.)
Hope you enjoyed!