Cloud emerged from the shower and methodically dried off, oblivious to his opulent surroundings. The towel he used was as soft as down, a light dove-grey color that the General seemed to favor and which very nearly matched the shade of his silvery hair. Cloud bunched it against his face for a moment, inhaling with a soft sob, remembering the way it felt to have all of that soft, silky hair spilling around his body, trying to inure to himself to the pain of knowing he would never have such again. The General's stiff manner with him and the exasperated, impatient way he'd dismissed Cloud to the shower had made that abundantly clear.

'Well,' he thought, wrapping the towel around his shoulders so that it covered him like a blanket. 'At least I don't smell like a whore anymore…I wonder, did he mean her, or did he mean me?'

He caught a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror, pausing a moment to see if he somehow looked any different. He'd always avoided mirrors since he was a young child, and the aversion to his reflection had only grown with time. Still, he gave himself a cursory check, wondering that such cataclysmic events could occur inside him and not somehow show on his body.

"What's wrong with you?" he murmured, touching his reflection, irritated by the sadness he saw there. "Why don't you just go away and leave him alone? He doesn't like you, he's already said…"

The image in the mirror simply mimicked him, mocked him, and he let his hand drop, feeling depressed and alone. He knew most of it was the aftermath of the alcohol he'd consumed, but a part of him wondered if it was just life.

A hard knock on the door startled him, Sephiroth's low, deep voice shortly asking, "Have you fallen asleep in there?"

"No, Sir," he answered, thumbing the latch on the door and opening it to see the General staring coolly down at him, arms crossed over his wide chest. The man made no move to get out of the way, leaving Cloud awkwardly waiting, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. He remembered how he'd flung himself at Sephiroth's feet mere months ago, begging for some tiny shred of attention. It should have mortified him but it only made him nostalgic, thinking of what had followed.

Sephiroth blinked, lashes fluttering, and tipped his head a little, murmuring, "Don't do it again."

Cloud started, eyes widening as if the man had read his thoughts. Blushing, he softly asked, "Do what, Sir?"

The General's pink, sensual mouth tightened in a frown but he gamely answered, "Bed a whore, Cloud—don't do it again."

It puzzled him but he didn't think to deny the demand—acquiescence was too much a part of his nature.

"I…I thought I'd done nothing that you hadn't…" he trailed off weakly when the General's cool stare turned into an angry glare.

"Don't question me," the man snapped, a faint flush on his high cheeks, as if Cloud had caught him out at some game. His hand snaked out and gripped the back of Cloud's neck tightly, pulling him none-too-gently from the bathroom and back into his bedroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled Cloud's unresisting body between his spread knees, hands forcing the boy's head up to meet his gaze. "You are a child, Cloud, and a very comely one at that—do what you will with your peers but never lower yourself to that standard again, do you understand me?"

Cloud nodded even though he didn't understand. Somehow, in the space of time between their conversation and Cloud emerging from the shower, Sephiroth had seemed to take sudden umbrage at Cloud's activities, though he had seemed uncaring of them earlier. It was confusing and upsetting, but Cloud could only agree. He'd not planned to ever repeat such a fiasco, but Sephiroth's stricture ensured it.

"You're far better than that," the man lowly said, shocking Cloud anew.

He blinked hard, sudden heat filling his cheeks. Embarrassed, knowing better, he protested, "No, Sir, don't say such things, please. You say things and I can't guard against them because I don't know how—and you're the one who warned me not to think you could care for me. If you meant it then, please, don't give me something to mistake for caring!"

"Be still," Sephiroth told him, shaking him a little, but gently. His jade eyes, feline and sparkling and withheld, bored into Cloud's own with piercing intensity. "You'll do as your nature bids, Cloud Strife, and I will do as mine bids."

Confused, Cloud started to shake his head in denial, but Sephiroth pulled him close and suddenly kissed him.

And, for whatever reason, it felt like home.