Author's Notes: I finally finished it! This chapter is probably about as/almost as long as Chapter 8. Wow. Thanks for the advice and support, everyone.
Like I said, change in perspective. Time to meet the richer folks!
Marluxia is intentionally out-of-character, because it's amusing to make fun of him. I swear if he weren't part of the Organization this is how he would act.
Chapter 15
"The Not-So-Simple Life"
Flash, flash, flash, flash. Finally, the cameras stopped flashing.
"Oookay! That's a wrap!" Marluxia peered out from behind his camera with a thumbs-up on both hands. "Gorrrgeous! Lovely as always, Strife!"
Cloud just stared at his cameraman with an anonymous look on his face, blue-green eyes bored and agitated now that the photoshoot was over. He instantly dropped out of his pose, his arms swinging down at his sides. He was wearing the latest design of boxers from the Rising Sun Agency's clothing line. Look pretty, and sell it in the ads. That was his job.
"I think we did pretty good that time," said his flamboyant pink-haired companion in the room. "Look at this lovely reel! I have thousands of pictures I can sell to the papers!" Cloud just looked at him with a groan under his breath as someone came over and wrapped a robe around his body, as if looking at it was no longer permitted since the cameras were off. Marluxia was a fantastic cameraman and had a lovely eye for models, and he was also the gayest flamer Cloud had ever met in his life. This was a man who wore pink from head to toe save black pants and shoes, and kept flowers in every inch of his home.
"Sooo, now that our lovely little meeting is done…" Marluxia walked over and gave Cloud a gentle slap on his arm with the camera reel, "Are you going to go home to your lovely little family in the hills?"
Cloud was reminded how irritating Marluxia could get when he got started talking. And the best way to get rid of it was to just cut him off while he was ahead. He turned his eyes nonchalantly away, tying the robe's sash securely around his waist.
"Now that our meeting is done, are you going to go home and have sex with your flowers?"
It sounded harsh, but it was true. Marluxia was practically married to his plants. He even talked to them. Cloud didn't know this because he'd been to Marluxia's house; he knew this because Marluxia had a mouth bigger than a whale's and an overwhelming need to share every single detail of his intimate life.
"I think my petunias need a little watering, if you know what I mean!" Marluxia giggled, nudging Cloud a little. Cloud just sighed at the bad joke and hurriedly began to walk out of the photoshoot, heading for the dressing rooms. Marluxia was still chattering away as he followed, which only made him more agitated.
"By the way, your ratings are up, my friend! The press loooves you! And I'm not talking about the tabloids and those jerks that listen to them," Marluxia clicked his tongue and waved the camera reel around, "I mean the ones that really matter! And the magazines, ohhh!" Marluxia sighed, rolling his eyes in an orgasmic sort of pleasure. "Su-blime! You are gorgeous, just gorgeous! Cloud Strife, you're the most popular male model since Tressident!"
Zexion Tressident. He'd been the primary Rising Sun model before Cloud was hired. Cloud didn't care.
"That's nice," he grunted, opening up the door to his dressing room.
"Oh and by the way, there's another shoot scheduled for Monday on—" Marluxia coiled back just before the door slammed in his face. He clicked his tongue, huffing and putting his hands on his hips.
"Okay, fine! I'll e-mail it to you, then!" He rolled his eyes, flicking one wrist as if dismissing the door. "Ruuuude."
Thank GOD, Cloud thought, dropping the robe carelessly to the floor. You never do appreciate silence until you've got twenty kids in your house, AND you've met Marluxia. He looked through the closet in his dressing room, finding his original clothes quickly since they were the only ones in there besides pairs of boxers he'd been modeling for. He put on his own pair (the ones he was going to actually wear home), and hung the others up. Someone would come by and wash them, or more likely would throw them away, since mass production of the clothes had already started. Whatever, I don't know how it works. Cloud said to himself. I just help to sell the product. I don't ship it.
The blond pulled on his shirt over his head, preparing to tug it down over his half-naked body when he heard the door open and then close. He glanced over with a surprise visit from someone he'd been seeing since his career began five years ago.
"Oh…hello, Sephiroth."
Sephiroth Penna, the man who owned Rising Sun, was forty-two years old and looked damn good for it. He exercised daily, his eyes were a shimmering emerald green, and while his face was strict, he had a charming smile and a personality suave enough to make a Queen swoon. His hair was a silvery color with age, and exceedingly long, but instead of taking away from his good looks, it only added to them. This ripped, handsome, sexy, charming man was Cloud Strife's employer and manager.
He was also Cloud's lover.
"How did the shooting go?" Sephiroth asked. Cloud let his shirt drop down and smoothed it out, not directly looking at Sephiroth in the eyes just yet.
"Fine. Same old, same old." He reported. "Marluxia practically had an orgasm watching me pose, as usual." Cloud shook his head when those words passed his lips. That man really needs a date, he thought pitifully.
"Cloud, you're beautiful," Sephiroth stated. "I guarantee you everyone in the room got their panties wet watching you work."
Cloud's face turned undeniably red as he pulled on his jeans, zipping them up and buttoning them. As blunt and sometimes dirty as Sephiroth was, he had a way of embarrassing the blond, and at the same time passing him a compliment.
"M…Mmm." He grunted, just accepting the comment as it came. Sephiroth chuckled.
"Your face looks like a cherry now."
"It's your fault for calling me beautiful." Cloud grumbled. Sephiroth smirked and sauntered over to him, wrapping his arms around the shorter man's waist. Cloud leaned back against him, sighing and reaching up to lace his fingers behind Sephiroth's neck, under that cascading waterfall of silver hair. Sephiroth kissed his head.
"But you are," he purred. "You're so very beautiful, Cloud."
Cloud smiled and let the other rock them back and forth a little, moving as one. "So is your visit still on for tomorrow night?" he asked.
"If I can make it there without being seen, and if your miniature zoo will be preoccupied." Cloud smirked, chuckling.
"Seifer and Fuujin can keep them busy. They've got the whole night planned out."
"Ahh, good." Sephiroth leaned down and nibbled on Cloud's ear. "I wouldn't want them to walk in on us while we're playing our 'games'."
Cloud hitched a breath and ran his fingers through Sephiroth's hair. "Well, unless you're going to be distracted by DDR sounds on the downstairs floor…"
"And the shouting of little children?" Sephiroth smiled and sucked on the lobe of Cloud's ear. "I've grown used to it." He bit down firmly with his teeth. Cloud groaned a little in response.
"Seph, I have to drive home."
"Already in a hurry?" Sephiroth feigned disappointment, drawing Cloud back against him more. "I was going to squeeze in a quickie for you."
"S-Seph, please," Cloud reasoned, "the kids will be home from school soon."
Cloud loved Sephiroth, and vice versa, but sometimes Cloud had to wonder if it was true what they said about the average male hitting their sexual peak at adolescence. Cloud was twenty-six years old—Sephiroth was sixteen years older than him, and he was just as much a horndog as the next random angsty teenager on the streets.
Well, they said average male, he mused, and Sephiroth isn't very average.
Sephiroth sighed. "Cloud, you're not even straight, and you sound like you're married."
Cloud groaned. Sephiroth often bitched about how the petty government was refusing gay marriage. In essence, this was one of those times.
"I have twenty of them, Seph, I need to keep a constant eye on them."
"Running that 'One-Man Orphanage' of yours is going to give you wrinkles," Sephiroth murmured, sliding his hands under Cloud's shirt. Cloud felt a jolt when Sephiroth played with his nipples.
Seductive bastard, trying to sway me, he grumbled. Needless to say, it was working.
"Even if I looked like I was eighty, you'd still love me." Cloud pointed out. Sephiroth chuckled and kissed Cloud's neck a few times. Cloud groaned as the older man began to massage his torso, forcing him to relax.
"Sephiroth," he growled, trying to sound firm. Besides down south in his pants.
Sephiroth sighed, and reluctantly drew back. "All right, fine. I know a warning when I hear it." Cloud pulled away a bit hastily and straightened out his clothes, trying desperately to ignore the half-hard bulge in his pants and grabbing his jacket, throwing it on.
"Marluxia says I'm your best client since Zexion," Cloud mentioned, at a loss for what to turn the conversation to. Sephiroth snorted and leaned on Cloud's vanity dresser.
"Zexion was thirty-five years old. He was well past retirement when I replaced him with you." Cloud gave a noncommittal nod, listening to Sephiroth talk as he gathered up his bag of things. "The average shelf life of a model is ten to fifteen years, Cloud. You've got plenty of years ahead of you before you can take all your savings and live the good life."
The silver-haired man smiled. "Even now, hardly anyone knows about what you used to be, or where you grew up."
Cloud grew distant for a moment when Sephiroth mentioned it. Yes, that was true, too. Cloud was a mystery to the press—even parts of his past were slightly fabricated, just to throw them off the scent of a sob-story. Cloud didn't like being fawned over just because someone felt sympathy for him. When asked, he often gave away that his parents had died when he was young—that was fact. He also gave out that he'd been raised by a friend of the family—that was also fact. Then he would tell them he grew up in a small village called Dali. That was fact before his parents died.
The real story was that Cloud Strife, the hottest new model in the magazines, one of the greatest new successes in the modern world, had been orphaned by a double-homicide at five years old. He was raised by a woman named Sister Rosalyn, his mother's childhood friend, who ran the Esthar Village Orphanage just west of his hometown, Dali. Who knew?
And Cloud liked to keep it that way. For the most part, the memories of his past were now suppressed, and he'd moved past the death of his parents. He had a virtual mansion in the northern part of Alexandria, where all the golf courses and rich people were, and he took care of orphans and foster children just like him, making sure that others who had been taken or shunned from their families had a chance at life like he did. And Sephiroth was the greatest lover he'd ever met in his life, both in and out of bed. Cloud liked things this way. It was everything he'd ever wanted, and he'd gotten here all on his own.
"So are you ready to go, love?"
"What, are you following me out?" Cloud asked.
Sephiroth shrugged. "Nobody is out in the halls; Marx long since left. I thought I might accompany you."
Cloud slung his bag over his shoulder and opened the door, after he and Sephiroth shared a brief, passionate kiss. "All right then, let's go."
Sephiroth nodded, and they walked down the halls together, talking a little, but for the most part remaining quiet and enjoying each other's company. Cloud would allow Sephiroth to escort him until they reached the floor with Sephiroth's office, and then he would do the rest of the journey alone.
But the blond froze the minute they got to the elevator, and Sephiroth pressed the call button for it. He stared at the closed doors, his eyes dulling, the world around him melting. He felt a surge of primal adrenalyne rush through him, and he gripped the strap of his gym bag a little tighter. Sephiroth turned and saw his reaction, and squeezed his arm reassuringly.
"Aren't you glad I offered to come with you now?"
Cloud just nodded wordlessly, paralyzed by fear. The one reason why he hated this building. You couldn't take the stairs. Sephiroth was ordering construction to put some in, so some parts of the old complex were closed off for construction, but for now the elevator was all that they had. Cloud hated that elevator. In fact, he hated enclosed spaces of any kind. Claustrophobia had haunted him since the night his parents died.
The elevator made a ding sound to signify its arrival, and Sephiroth slid his hand down to Cloud's, grasping it and drawing him in. Cloud sucked in a sharp breath.
"Calm down. It's only a ten-second ride."
"To your floor," Cloud groaned.
"No, to yours." Sephiroth corrected. "I know how you are. We're going to the main floor first."
Cloud just suppressed another distressed moan as he got into the elevator, and Sephiroth pressed the button for the main lobby. He swallowed, and managed to croak out a "Thank you". He was just glad there were no other people in the elevator, because that just made it worse.
When the doors slid shut and the elevator began to sink down through over twenty floors, Cloud closed his eyes and stepped back until he'd found the body of his lover, and pressed flat against it like a brace. Sephiroth wound his arms around Cloud's torso and held him as the blond struggled to control his breathing. It's just an elevator, he told himself, it's just a machine. The walls are not going to close in around you…
Thinking it made Cloud's imagination spiral out of his control, though. He bit his lip, the drone of the whirring machinery taking over his brain. Pulling him backwards through time to that horrifying night when he was a child.
"Stay in here, Cloud!"
"Mommy? What's going on?"
"Never mind, honey! Just stay in the closet, and whatever you do, don't come out!"
"But why? Mommy!" The closet door slammed shut. It was the first bang that rang in his ears. Then the screaming and gunshots. He ducked to the ground, his hands covering his head when bullet holes made the lamplight flood into the closet. Cloud could hear his own breathing and the silent whimpers he made. Heavy booted footsteps clambered through the house, and he heard the stranger outside tearing the kitchen apart.
"Why isn't Daddy stopping him?" he thought. "Where's Mommy?"
"Here it is. Eric, you sneaky fucker. You hid it." He heard the sound of cocaine shaking in a plastic bag, (Although he hadn't known it was drugs at the time) and then the stranger left. Cloud didn't leave that closet, traumatized by the gunshots.
"Eric and Jessica Strife," said the policeman, "Murdered at twelve-thirty A.M. approximately.
Then the door opened, and Cloud looked up with tears streaming down his cheeks into the face of Sister Rosalyn, who gasped in shock. "Officer…Officer! Their son is alive!"
Ding.
"Cloud," Sephiroth whispered gently. "Cloud, you can stop suffocating my arm now."
Cloud snapped his eyes open and swallowed, his mouth dry, turning a little pink as he thrust his arm down and glued it to his side. The moment those doors came open, he flew out into the open space, and then he stopped to sigh. He hated elevators.
"Marluxia wants you for another photoshoot on Monday at noon," Sephiroth informed him. "Get home safe, Cloud."
Cloud turned around, and said, "Thank you, Sephiroth." His lover/manager smiled at him, then pressed the button for his floor and the doors closed. Cloud turned on his heel with another relieved sigh, and went out into the parking lot, unlocking the doors to his shiny vintage '88 Cadillac. Then he got in and drove home. Cars were the only exception to his claustrophobia that he could think of; he'd been sitting in the back seat of them all his life, and started driving at sixteen. Cars he was used to. Elevators, closets, crawlspaces and others…he loathed.
"Owww!"
"Chicken-Wuss! Quit runnin' into the glass doors and sit on the couch like I freaking told you to!"
Thirteen-year-old Zell glared at Seifer, the nineteen-year-old adopted orphan in charge of the other seventeen children, along with Raijin, eighteen, and Fuujin, also eighteen.
"You never let me have any fun!"
"Too bad, now sit on the couch like the rest of you little buggers."
Fuujin pointed to one of the various large couches in Cloud's mansion living room. "SIT," she ordered. Zell didn't try to deny Fuujin. She spoke very little, but her one-worders were always clear enough. Scattered around the decorative room on the couches were children ranging in age from ten to teenager. Seifer, Raijin and Fuujin were the oldest, and took care of them all while Cloud was gone.
Seifer was gritting his teeth impatiently. Where the hell is he? He wondered. He should be home by now. It's a fucking zoo here.
"Man, they're all restless, ya know?" Raijin grumbled.
"CLOUD, WHERE?" Fuujin demanded.
"Yay! Daddy's in the driveway!" cried a little girl.
"Finally." Groaned Seifer.
The minute Cloud walked into the house, his eyes widened as he shut the door behind him and he was pummeled by little children. He shouldn't have been surprised, he was used to this. But he still smiled at them all.
"Hey, did you guys miss me?"
"We missed you a lot!" cried Olette.
"Cloud, Zell was starting up fights again!"
"Was not!" shouted the blond. "Stop lying, Mikoto!"
"Animals," Seifer sighed. "Cloud, that shoot was longer than we expected."
"I'm sorry," Cloud apologized over the noise. "I didn't mean to leave you here with them, Seifer. Marluxia couldn't stop flashing the camera."
"I'll bet." Seifer snorted. "Man, we haven't eaten yet. It's six-thirty. Let's cook something."
Cloud just nodded, and dropped his bag by the door, putting his thumb and forefinger in his mouth and giving a loud whistle. "All right, everyone! Settle down!"
Instantly, the children dulled to a quiet chatter. "Now," Cloud began, "What would we all like to eat tonight?"
"Pizza!"
"Macaroni and cheese!"
"Pancakes!"
"Eggs!"
"Cake!"
"All very good suggestions, except for cake." Cloud smiled. "Let's take a vote. It'll be between steak and potatoes, smoked salmon, and lasagna. The vegetable is lima beans. All for steak and potatoes?"
Cloud counted when the children raised their hands on each vote. "Okay, it looks like steak and potatoes wins." He announced. Some children groaned, but Cloud cut them off.
"Who wants kitchen duty?"
Fuujin patted her chest. "COOK."
"Yeah, I'll help cook too, ya know!"
"I've got taste-testing!" Zell blurted.
Olette raised her hand. "Me and Pence can do clean-up."
"Yeah," Pence added, "And Mikoto can help with the dishes!"
"Sure, I can do that."
Cloud made note of all this mentally (which he was good at doing by now). "The night's planned, then. I'll do most of the cooking, and the ones who'll be helping can set the tables."
Cooking never took very long in Cloud's house. With him and two others helping with the food, it was like speed-cooking. There were four tables, each lined up with two to a row in the dining room, seating plenty of room for ten. Since they were age-determined, all the children younger than fifteen sat at the "Kiddie Table" (even though that table looked the same as the other). Cloud sat with the older children, where all the food was spread out on dishes.
"Mmmmm, this looks yummy!" Olette commented.
"Nobody grab for it," Cloud warned, giving blond-haired, sixteen-year-old Zidane a glare. "And no stealing food." He held out his hands on the table. "Now let's join hands and say Grace. Who wants to say the dinner prayers?"
"It's my turn!" blurted a little ten-year-old girl.
"No it's not!"
The moment opposition began to sprout, Cloud quickly took over before it could escalate. "Vivi, let Jenevieve say Grace."
Everyone joined hands, and little Jenevieve recited the standard child's prayer: "God is great, God is good, and we thank Him for our food! Amen!" Most of the older children found themselves saying quick, more elaborate prayers in their heads before passing the food around.
The phone rang just as everyone got really into the grub. Cloud grumbled and rubbed a throbbing ache from his temple, and started to get up.
"I'll answer it." Seifer offered, beating him to the punch. Cloud didn't object, sitting back down to eat. In the kitchen, he could hear Seifer politely turning down a press call, and then furiously shouting at them when they refused to leave. When he came back, he was shaking his head.
"I swear, they just won't leave you alone."
"I have twenty children in a mansion and I'm making thousands a year being a model." Cloud stated, eating a bite of steak. "Of course they won't leave me alone. I'm too much of an oddball."
"NOT ODD." Fuujin grunted. "KIND."
"Thank you, Fuu." Replied Cloud. He suddenly gasped, though, shooting up in his seat. It dawned on him then that newspaper people calling them was not a good thing. "Wait, the press called! Seifer, go close the—"
"Already shut every curtain in the house." Seifer told him. "Relax, Cloud. We've got everything covered."
"What about the doorbell?"
"I unwired it, ya know. I'll put it back around midnight, ya know."
"The doors?"
"LOCKED."
Only then did Cloud relax and lean back in his seat. It was bad enough as it was with the neighborhood police on a constant watch from afar for any solicitors on his property, but nothing ever stopped the tabloids, and Cloud had long since learned to put the house under a virtual Defcon Five promptly before meal time. It had been that way ever since the number of children had begun to pile on. Seifer, Fuujin and Raijin were the three he'd been caring for the longest, and so they were most used to the Defcon routine.
After food was consumed, Olette, Pence and Mikoto cleaned up the kitchen and the rest of the children spent the night playing. Cloud didn't collapse on one of the living room couches until after nine-o'clock, when all the ten- and twelve-year-olds went to bed. He'd been wondering about the seniority he'd put in the house, but he didn't press it; Sister Rosalyn had the same system when he was at her orphanage, and it worked just fine for him. Besides, the teenagers were all much quieter. They spent their time playing video games.
Cloud found himself falling asleep on the couch until Seifer sat near his stomach and shook him. "You okay?"
"I'm tired." Cloud sighed, nudging Seifer's hand away.
"Well, you know, one day the three of us are going to move out."
Cloud groaned and rolled over. "Seifer, let me sleep."
"How are you going to take care of them when we move?"
Cloud moaned louder and literally pushed Seifer off the couch with his butt, tugging a pillow down over his head. Seifer frowned, but he didn't do anything more. He was concerned. He didn't understand why Cloud took it upon himself to look after so many kids. Like now, it seemed to Seifer that he could barely keep up. God knows when he and Fuujin moved out, they weren't planning to have this many kids. It didn't escape Seifer that even though Cloud adopted them, they still weren't related. He hadn't told Cloud, though. He knew the poor man would have an anneurism if he found out.
Fuujin squeezed Seifer's shoulder. "CLOUD, SLEEP."
Seifer shook his head. "I guess so. Hey, Rai," Seifer turned to his dark-skinned, adoptive brother, "Put the teenies to bed in an hour at ten. Me and Fuu are goin' up to do homework."
Raijin waved a dismissive, meaty hand, absorbed in a game of Tekken with Zell. "Got it, ya know."
Seifer and Fuujin then retreated upstairs, Seifer looping his arm around Fuujin's waist once they were on the second floor and going to his room. All the little kids slept in the two upstairs bedrooms save for the Master one that was Cloud's, and Seifer, Fuu and Rai had the third upstairs room to themselves. The teenies all had the two bottom bedrooms and a little bit of the basement.
Once they were in their bedroom, Seifer sighed and fell onto his bed. "Cloud's in way over his head. It's a miracle he can afford to pay for us all."
Fuujin lay down next to Seifer, her pale hair falling away to reveal the patch she had over her eye. She had lost it in an accident, and it was healing up with stitches underneath. Seifer had known Fuujin when she had both eyes. He still thought she was beautiful.
"Cloud works hard." Fuujin whispered, her voice a little softer. Around Seifer, and only around Seifer—sometimes Cloud—did she form even half-complete sentences. The rest of the time, it was one-worders and facial expressions.
"I know, that's what I'm saying." Seifer growled. "What's he going to do when the money stops coming in? What if he gets fired or his pay goes down? He's got a lot of risks prodding at his back with spears and he's just walking the God damn plank. He's so reckless."
"Cloud loves us." Fuujin said gently.
"I know Cloud loves us," groaned Seifer. "But he's stressing himself out way too much. He's gotta stop being charitable and think for himself for a change." He stared at the ceiling, pulling at his face with his hands after a heavy sigh. "Just because he lost his chance at childhood…"
Fuujin glared at Seifer. "PAST. BAD. DON'T MENTION."
The blond let his arms flop to the bed. "Sorry."
His girlfriend softened immediately, kissing his cheek. "You're stressed."
"Fuck yeah I'm stressed!" Seifer looked at Fuujin. "I just took care of the monsters for two hours today, and I ate late! I've been doing that more and more lately!"
"Cloud works hard." Fuujin repeated.
Seifer moaned. "Fuujin, he's doing less and less of the babysitting and more and more of the work."
Fuujin frowned. "Cloud makes money. Cloud supports us. Cloud works hard."
"I make money and support us, too, and so do you and Rai!" Seifer shook his head. "Our extra money is the only reason he's keeping all of us, you know. One day he's going to have to take care of all of them himself."
"Cloud will manage."
When Fuujin hugged him and gave his neck a kiss, Seifer rolled his eyes, sighing. "You have a hell of a lot of faith in that flaky blond," he commented.
"Cloud works for us. Cloud watches us. Hard time finding balance." Fuujin nuzzled Seifer's neck. Seifer gave up and wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing her to him.
"You know, Fuu, in a weird kinda way, you're good with words."
Fuujin just shrugged and kissed Seifer on the lips. "I try."
Cloud woke up to the downstairs floor being silent. And dark.
He blinked and sat up, looking around him. There was a note right in front of him in Rai's handwriting, and when he checked his watch, it was one in the morning.
Kids are all in bed. Don't sleep all night on the couch. We all love you, Cloud. –Rai
P.S. Your boss called and said something about a reschedule.
The blond was a little disappointed by the postscript. So Sephiroth wouldn't be coming over tomorrow. He let out a heavy breath of air, crumpling the note and throwing it away, and quietly picking up the video game consoles and controllers, cleaning up after the kids' mess, and doing the same as he picked up all the stuffed animals in the upstairs hallway. Once the house was clean, Cloud went into his bedroom and became a recluse, turning on the computer from standby. When he was logged back on and had Internet, he got pinged by an IM almost instantly.
GrieversKeepers: You're up late.
Cloud stared at the screen name, and it made him smile. Grievers always seemed to pick up his mood. He typed back, his blue text filling the chat window. He was too lazy to use proper grammar this early on a Saturday morning.
RiddlezindaMiddlez: im tired and im restless. u r up late too, G.
Author's Notes: And now everyone knows who Riddlez is!