A "Random Final Fantasy 7 Yaoi Pairing Generator" crackfic. Rufus x Cloud, rape, disjointedness, and way too much angst. Also, I've suddenly switched to present tense. I'm stuck, too. This could complicate things for my master plan.
Past
The water is scalding, running over him, it hurts but he already hurts and he can't find the strength to reach up and twist the knob. So he huddles in the corner of the stall, crouched and hugging his calves, wishing there was a curtain he could pull shut to block out the world. He's crying, sobbing, with his mouth in a rictus grin which he presses into his knees, sucking in what steamy air he can around his slick skin. The hiss of the water is like the hiss of that voice, You know who I am don't you You know what I can do to you To Zack So come on come in come.
He'll die if he doesn't stop these shuddering, wracking breaths, he'll hyperventilate or choke and he'll drown here in the showers of his barracks, trying to hide from pain and shame.
You like it don't you You slut I'll give you what you want Take it take it you can take it
He can't take it, the sound of his own breathing echoing around him, so much like the strangled groans he made around the silk tie stuffed into his mouth as something hot and hard and too big was pressing, ripping, he couldn't take it. He's not even bleeding, he checked, but it hurt so much and he couldn't move, couldn't get away. Even without his wrists cuffed too tight in front of him and his knees tied to his elbows, face pressed into the carpet, he couldn't have. He can't disappoint Zack, he won't be responsible for that, he'll keep it a secret, he won't tell.
"Spike?"
Nonono no one, he promised. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to move. Maybe he'll disappear.
"Cloud, you in here?"
Such a warm voice. He wants to curl up in it and go to sleep, away from nightmares and hands and red, dark like blood, rough against his cheek. No. He has to hide.
"Cloud?"
It's gentle and close and so safe and he can't help the broken wail he smothers into the clothed shoulder his head is cradled on. Zack has turned off the water and wrapped those strong arms around him and now he can let go of the tattered remnants of his soul and rest.
"Fuck, Cloud, who did this to you?"
He's crying like a baby because he misses his mother. He's crying because he's lonely and nobody likes him. Nothing happened, Zack, he thinks. Zack can't know what happened. Except Zack is unraveling Cloud's arms from their death grip around his legs and looking at the rope burn in the crook, the rug burn on his elbows, the similar stigmata on his knees. Zack is snarling. Zack is punching the tile hard enough to crack it.
Zack is apologizing for scaring him.
"Let's get you dressed," Zack says, picking him up easily.
Cloud is shivering in the cool air.
"You can't do anything," he says, "You can't fix it this time."