The Movement of Unsubtle Desires
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Author: Kiba
Rating: PG (for the moment)
Pairing: Leon/Cloud
Chapter: 1/?
Warnings: A bit of angst. Not much else, yet.
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, any of the characters, anything Disney, or much else, except the crazy crap I make them do. :)

Chapter One: Almost Heroic Happenstance

He came to the town looking damaged.

He came with his sad blue eyes and his messy blonde hair and that look of good will defeated on his face (one which was still too boyish to know the things it did). He was short and ill-dressed, a lengthy red cape around his neck that was tattered at the ends, a golden claw as a weapon on his left hand, and a broad sword in the other, so large it was a wonder he was able to wield it on his own.

He was a man who had known death and forever at the fresh age of twenty-something, when he had barely begun to live, and already his future had been ripped from his very arms. He had been tangled up in mass destruction and had saved his home, suffered the weight on his spine of being "the chosen one." He had had plenty of support but it was never strong enough to keep away the silver-haired and black-winged nightmares that still came to him every night. Even so, he had never forgotten his smile, for those who had truly needed it, as Mona Lisa as it was.

Everyone knew that look but they didn't say anything to him, and there was mutual understanding between he and everyone he met in this quaint place that he was far too gone. Even staying here for a while wouldn't ease the pain that had settled in long ago, nudged gently by unrequited battles and losing everything he loved. It was just another retelling of the story everyone who lived here had to look back on, really. He didn't complain much. Even if he had room to, he probably wouldn't have, still.

His name was Cloud Strife and once upon a time he was a hero.

And then there was the lion-man, whom had an equal degree of damage, that everyone had come to know (but not love, assuredly). He came to Traverse much earlier than Cloud, accompanied by a pretty girl in a pink dress named Aerith and the springy female ninja Yuffie, who seemed exclusively to hang around him, much to his dismay. They hadn't known each other before the Door had been opened, but in desperation had come together in order to find a means to bring about the closing of it.

He insisted on being called "Leon." Only Yuffie had had the pleasure of knowing why, and only because she was irritating enough to poke the words out of him. He was a very bitter man by nature, and the current state of the universe as a whole tended to make him especially prone to, as Yuffie would say, "Male PMS."

Regardless of his permanent bad mood, however, Leon was an impeccable warrior. Back home he was quite prestigious, and fought with a weapon called the "Gunblade," something very few were allowed to wield, which he continued to tote, even to Traverse. Back home he was also a lover, and several other things he cared not to disclose. Rather, he shoved the little legends he'd made of himself back into dusty black corners of his mind, shutting them away and emerging with a poor attempt at a clean slate, calling himself "Leon."

The past never stopped haunting him, unfortunately. He found that it was very hard to lock away entirely. There was still the vertical scar running across his face, still the Griever hanging around his neck, and now, small angelic wings sewn to the back of his jacket, a memoir of love lost.

His name was Squall Leonhart and once upon a time he was a hero.

--

It was always night in the town of Traverse, but you could tell when it was supposed to really be night because the air became distinctly chilled, and the glow of the street lamps on the corners seemed to become a little bit more depressing than they already were. But Yuffie, the restless and energetic ninja that she was, had insisted that she and Leon venture out into the night-night of Traverse and have a little something at the cafe down in the town square.

And it was about this same time, as Leon was grudgingly being coaxed to moving out his establishment in the Third District, that a particular individual by the name of Cloud was checking into one of the rooms in the hotel in the Second one. As he settled into it he discovered it was on the first floor, directly beneath the series of balconies from the second one, and the back door opened up to a quaint little view of what he could only assume to be... a very large sewer.

Finding no comfort in this scenery in the least, he retreated back into the room and removed the golden claw (it got him really weird looks before, and this place didn't seem too dangerous), tucking it safely away in the bottom drawer of the dresser there, and settled his broad sword against one of the walls. The lengthy red scarf still snaked about his neck, however; he couldn't remove that, at least.

Frowning at the fact he had no clothes to change into, he decided he would visit one of the shops he had seen in passing on the way to here, because the sleeveless sweater he wore, regardless of its sentimental value, did not exactly fit into Traverse Town so well. Neither did the large boots and the baggy pants covered in buckles. The last thing he wanted to do was draw extra attention to himself.

It was, unfortunately, a bit too late to go get clothes right now, and he wanted to spend some time just settling into the town. And he could really go for a drink of some sort; he hadn't had one in a long while. He thought of the small cafe he passed after entering the town, and idly contemplated going there...

Leon looked especially irritated as he settled down into one of the wooden chairs in the cafe finally, watching as Yuffie plopped down on the one opposite of him and bounced in place a bit, what short black hair she had falling into her eyes a moment. She placed her elbows on the table rudely and cradled her chin with her palms then, smiling brightly across at him, and inquired quite perkily, "Wasn't this idea of mine great? Now we can chat with all the people again!" Leon did not look amused.

"I bet they miss us coming here," she continued, not even giving him a chance to respond, "Do you remember when we used to come here every day and we both had our favourite drinks, and all the ladies tried to get in your pants? Though I don't have any idea as to why they would want to do that, I mean, look at those pants, they are so hard to get in to, and I don't mean just because---" Her rambling seemed to never cease.

To this, Leon narrowed his eyes and glanced off to the side, elsewhere. He indeed gave her an answer, but it was probably not what she would want to hear, though she would be a fool if she were expecting anything else. "---I only came here to get a drink. I'm not talking to anyone."

Yuffie rolled her eyes, and stuck out her tongue at the same time toward him. "You're such a tight-ass."

Before Leon could come back with an insult of some kind, a busty woman who was employed there as a waitress had come to their table with a smile on her face, a pad of paper in her hand, and a pencil in the other. "What would you two like this evening? We're going to close in an hour or so, but feel free to take your time and relax..."

Slowly Leon slid his eyes over to the voluptuous woman, examining the red and revealing dress, how it clung quite nicely to her curves and how it showed off quite a bit of chest, but found himself not at all impressed. She seemed like another cookie-cutter image of most of the pretty women he had seen in his short day.

His voice was bland as he stated simply to her, "Beer." He honestly wasn't too fond of the elaborate mixes of drinks; he wanted something simple and bitter but definitely alcoholic.

"And you, little miss?"

"I'm definitely NOT little," Yuffie made sure to add before saying anything else, "Buuut, I'll have a fruit smoothie!" She looked a little miffed toward the woman, but surprisingly refrained from commentary. Leon was thankful.

"All right then; if there's anything else you would like, just give me a holler. I'm happy to be of service to you." The woman winked, and added playfully, "Especially you, big boy," as she gave the said "big boy" a gentle prod in the shoulder with the end of her pencil. Leon stared blankly, unresponsive to the flirtatious gesture.

Looking somewhat annoyed that her advances were not well received, the waitress left them wordlessly, and made sure to remember put something not-so-pleasant in the man's drink.

Mr. Strife was heading down the steps and into the square now, with his boots tapping lightly against the cobble stone, loud against the silence that the night-night of Traverse had brought, and the red tattered cape billowing behind him. Soon, however, the sound of people chattering in the cafe not too far off had hit his ears, easy to pick out, and he found what he was looking for.

Upon reaching the entrance to the open cafe, he paused there and placed a gloved hand against one of the beams holding up the roof overhead of them, his cape settling against his back with a gentle whisper. Blinking confusedly for a few moments, he wondered if he should go in and pick a table or wait to be seated.

Quickly, as to not stand there too long and look stupid and obviously new to the town, he decided upon the former, and began to move again, in search of a table to claim as his own. The cafe was surprisingly busy for the hour it was, but from his he concluded they must serve alcohol. Who would be sitting here drinking soda or coffee or anything else, he had to wonder.

Yuffie was now ironically suckling loudly at her smoothie through a thick, colourful straw, but Leon had yet to touch his beer because he was suspicious of the strange smell it emitted. When it had been served and she saw him allowing it to sit there, she questioned him with one of her childish "Why?"s, and then, "How can beer smell any more funny than it already does?" but did not really care enough to look deeper into it. They would be spending Leon's munny here anyway.

Cloud weaved silently in and out of the tables, looking for a vacant one. As he did such, his cape whipped this way and that, occasionally in the way and faces of the people he passed.

As fate would have it, one shred of the heavy red fabric flickered into Yuffie's face as he passed the particular table, causing her to abruptly screech, jump and fling out her arms in whichever direction, in rapid succession, startled. This resulted in the glass containing her smoothie to go flying... in Leon's direction.

The blond man tensed at the sound of the girl's scream, and instantly whirled around with wide eyes to see what the matter was. Thankfully, years of training had given him quick reflexes, and before the drink could splatter all over the ground and/or Leon, he had quickly reached out and snatched it with one of his hands, just in time.

There was a long, awkward pause. The cafe was silent, watching the little scene. Their attention had been caught by Yuffie's banshee wailing, which had thankfully subsided for the moment, replaced with an unsure, blank stare of surprise. Cloud breathed a sigh of relief eventually, eyes rolling skyward in a thankful expression at the same time. After that he smiled sheepishly to Yuffie, and offered her a quiet apology, setting her glass back down in front of her, hopefully safely.

And when he turned his head in the direction to apologize to the other sitting across from the girl, he locked eyes with a ruffling, ferocious lion.

Leon's eyes were narrowed to angry slits, their intense blue shrouded by his brunette bangs; if you looked close enough you could almost see hackles, and how they were rising up, hagridden. His arms were crossed over his chest securely and he felt the muscles in his body beginning to slowly tense, one by one, the longer this yellow-headed fool stared him down.

"You're lucky you were able to save that, or I would have had to---"

"Squall, he didn't mean it!" Yuffie butted in before he could go on any further, her thin brows furrowed with annoyance, bottom lip sticking out in a juvenile manner, as if a spoiled child. "He even apologized!"

Cloud would have gladly responded to the threat, had it been finished, as it was an insult to his pride. Males, no matter who they were, or how kind they were, were guaranteed to have an endless amount of pride. However, the pleading of women had always seemed to lull his version of a not-so-ferocious beast, and he settled for simply glaring at Leon.

The almost spilling of the drink, this trickle of defense, and Yuffie's chiding was enough to convince Leon that going out tonight was not that great of an idea after all. He had not even wanted to be here in the first place and now was entirely disgusted that he had allowed himself to be seduced into doing this. If Yuffie had not been so damned chipper and perky and any other adjective in the world to describe "stupidly happy," he would have never been in this situation, and he would have never had to actually talk to these idiots, and he could have been locked up in his private hole brooding.

"The name is Leon," he hissed.

Yuffie looked offended. She immediately slammed her hands down on the table, and stood up from her chair, glaring daggers across at the lion-man. "Well, excuuuse me, Mr. I'm So Big and Tough and Cool Because I'm Too Angsty To Actually Try to Be Nice to Anyone and Care about Anyone Else But Myself, Even If They Just Saved a Drink From Spilling ALL OVER Me!---oh, sorry, I mean, Leon---but just because you---"

"This is stupid. I'm leaving."

Abruptly, Leon moved from his own chair and quickly reached into his pocket to fish out a few pieces of munny. After tossing them down on the table for that stupid whore who had tried to poison his drink, he turned his back to them, pushed past Cloud, and left the cafe silently, his face contorted into something vulgar. Yuffie was left shaking her fist and sailing insults like no body's business.

Cloud was confused and nervous. Everyone was still staring at him. Moments like these, he felt that people's eyes could burn a hole into him, right down to the very core of his soul.

But suddenly, they were nothing compared to the gaze of an angry lion.

TO BE CONTINUED