Catch Your Shadow
Chapter Four
AN: Howdy! Finally I've started this! I hope it doesn't take long to finish, cuz I have those random reviews every once in awhile saying: "Update or I'll kill you!" Maybe not so dramatic, but you get the idea. I also needed some time to think on this fic, cuz I got a review that kinda made me go: "Oh yeah, duh!" and I will say it now: Sephie and Cloud are VERY OOC. I'm soooooooooooo sorry for this, but I wrote it how it felt. I didn't think it through and I apologise, which is why I'm thinking of finishing it as it is, or just starting to revise it now. But it would go under COMPLETE reconstruction. Like new twists and more of Sephie being colder. So I suppose if you can bear with this un-fixed little story for just a bit longer I promise to go all-out and give you all a better done story, in which everyone acts like everyone! Except Cloud probably won't be so annoying….oh well. Sorry bout that and all the excessive AN's in the middle. I'll try and cut those down, but I just get so enthusiastic…; Well, I'm done for now…or till the next AN at the end lol. See you at the bottom I hope!
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(Cloud's POV) (AN: Am going to do this now to clarify it a bit more….)
Cloud took his shower fast and as he emerged, freshly dressed, he met Sephiroth sitting on his couch. "How'd it go?" he asked, swinging onto the couch and rubbing his hair diligently with his towel. He would have to brush his spikes a bit, his hair was still flat. Sephiroth didn't look at him. He remained quiet.
"I'm supposed to go in this afternoon. He'd said he'd been thinking about me." Cloud momentarily faltered in wiping down his hair, a slight pain jumping in his heart. He reprimanded himself and continued with a slight smile, even if he felt like frowning. "Well that's good. It sounds like he really likes you." There was no need to express who "he" was. They both knew. There was a heavy silence.
"Well, have you remembered anything? After all you did kinda scare me this morning." Cloud placed the towel on his lap. "I know who I am, but it's coming back slowly." Cloud tensed and this time it was noticeable. As soon as Sephiroth figured out who he was he might leave. And this made Cloud's heart hurt again. "Oh." was all he said.
"I'm…not of this…world." Cloud let this roll over him. It sounded like he had difficulty stating it. "Well that explains it." Cloud chuckled to himself. "Explains what?" Sephiroth asked, voice sounding hollow. "Well, you do have wings and no one else in this world that I know of does. You're the only one. And you're far too perfect for this world. We're all just a bunch of screw-ups here." He shook his head. "You don't seem like a…screw-up." he stumbled over the slight slang. Cloud grinned. "Why, I'm the biggest screw-up of them all." He spread his arms wide and motioned to himself. Sephiroth looked away from him.
"There are a few hours until I have to go for the meeting." Cloud dropped his arms and stood. He eyed Sephiroth. There was something off about him today. He had at least looked at Cloud earlier, now he stared into space critically, as if analysing the space in front of him. "Take a shower, you smell. I'll cook something." Sephiroth stood and swiftly made his way to the bathroom. Cloud heard the water and realised the man learned fast.
Sighing Cloud stood and feeling slightly upset with the silver-haired angel he set off to cook something passable as food.
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(Sephiroth's POV)
Sephiroth felt himself changing inside. Not in a drastic way, but now that his gate of memories had been opened he felt himself becoming the warrior in his dreams and images. A hard-shell was placed on his emotions. He couldn't look at the blonde something in him told him it was improper.
Now that he knew Cloud was his prince he could never treat him the same. But somehow this new visage felt familiar; as if he had always been like this. There was a slight jar of pain in his chest and his hand rubbed the pained area. He had almost forgotten about the unnamable scratch. Cloud hadn't looked at it since the bandages had been removed only the next morning just before his shower, but now he had a suspicion it would not be bothering him anymore. In the shower he eyed his chest and saw that it was gone. There was only a fading red streak where the slash had once been. He didn't question his sudden amazing healing abilities; he attributed it to his regaining of memories, and therefore powers.
Sighing he grew his wings large enough to be able to wrap them around himself and gently rub them with soap. He wanted to look good in front of his prince….
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(Cloud's POV)
Cloud felt listless the whole afternoon. He waited for Sephiroth to emerge from the shower and noticed how sharp and reclusive his face had become and how cold his almost-neon eyes appeared. Something had changed in him overnight. Cloud wanted desperately to scream at him to wake up and be the almost-fun silver-haired beauty he'd been before, but he kept all his angry protests inside. This didn't help.
As they both ate in silence, Cloud gazed at him, but he never acknowledged he was even there. Cloud's snowball of anger slowly became a boulder. Cloud ignored him and rose to go to his room and attempt to find his paints and work again on his ceiling-becoming-wall-mural. The cascading colours on the ceiling of his room were slowly inching down towards his walls, so he'd decided to do those as well. Plus it would help his anger.
He didn't look back to Sephiroth, but left his room door open a crack, even though he plugged his CD player in with the music blaring so harsh his eardrums were almost bleeding. He used one of his stools to reach the top of the wall, but eventually he worked his way down. The harsh guitar and screaming voice of Pierrot helped him become incited enough to slip off into his left brain enough that he lost track of time again.
It was the eerie feeling you only get when you're vividly aware you're alone that woke him up to realise Sephiroth was gone. He ripped his headphones off and chucked the CD player onto his futon, not looking to see if it broke and not bothering to even stop it. He stormed from the room, still worked up and hoping the silver-haired man was there so he could scream at him as loud as possible and shake him into waking up and being ever-so-slightly human again. But he was gone.
Cloud cursed and grabbed a tattered hoodie off of his floor, slipping it on as he bolted after the man. It was about forty minutes until his meeting, which means he had to have left no more then ten minutes ago. The idiot had just walked off into the middle of Tokyo, not knowing any directions and completely unarmed, without any money for a cab, even if he knew how to get one to stop for him.
"Baka!" Cloud spat as he clanged down his steps and out into the bright busy streets.
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(Sephiroth's POV)
In fact, getting to the main Midgar building was rather easy. All he had to do was ask two people for directions and slightly in awe and intimidated fright of his now critical gaze they pointed meekly in the right directions. He was only glad some odd instinct in him had adapted him to this language. Otherwise he would never have been able to leave the moody artist. And after how cold Cloud had been this morning, Sephiroth wasn't sure he really wanted to go back.
He felt he needed to be near Cloud, but then again, being near him made him anxious and uneasy in ways he didn't want to contemplate because all his previous training told him those feelings were bad. It seemed it was destructive for them both. But how to get away from him? He didn't want to, it was the last thing he wanted to do, but for both of them it seemed like the right thing. This bothered him even as he walked into the building with the huge iridescent sign proclaiming: "MIDGAR FASHIONS". He showed a woman at the reception desk the card and she motioned for him to take one of the elevators to her side labeled "Restricted".
It took him only moments to work out the elevator before he found the button for the seventy-ninth floor and he was off. His stomach jolted unpleasantly at this new sensation, but it soon adapted as the elevator beeped and the shining metal doors hissed open efficiently.
It was a wide pure white room. No decorations, just windows instead of walls from floor to the high ceiling. There was a black desk that stood out starkly in the room with an attractive man sitting leisurely behind it. The thick leather boots purchased last night made a harsh thud on the white floor, but the man didn't acknowledge him until he was standing just before him.
There was another black door, almost tiny in comparison to the height of the ceiling and the windows, just behind the desk. The man had his feet propped up on the desk and was reading an X-rated magazine. His eyes peered over the magazine and when they focused on Sephiroth, they nearly bugged out. "Damn! So you're the new squeeze! Here for an interview?" Sephiroth glared him down letting the power of his eyes answer. "I called. He said show up. Here I am." The man with black hair behind the desk nodded. His hair was long and tied back in a tight ponytail. "Man of little words, but plenty of beauty. Watch yer ass in there literally." He advised sagely and nodding as if he knew this for a fact before he pushed a dark red button on his desk.
There was nothing else besides a notepad and a pencil on the desk. A buzzer sounded faintly from behind the door and the man motioned for Sephiroth to go in. Sephiroth moved around him, barely aware the man's eyes were trained on his rear the whole time. As the door closed with a foreboding shut he smirked lewdly and continued reading his magazine. If you call it "reading".
……
Rufus looked up from his papers. This office was rather different. It looked comfortable, but horribly uptight as well as if the comfort was only a disguise. Plush couches and a few armchairs littered through the room in strategic places, his desk was set on a slight platform above the rest of the room and centered right in front of a copy of windows in the white room, except these overlooked a seventy-foot drop into downtown Tokyo.
A smooth smile split onto his handsome face and he stood up fast, calling warm greetings and motioning for Sephiroth to come closer. He didn't, and Rufus frowned and grinned, instead moving closer to him. "Well, well you're even more perfect in the sunlight, did you know that? Well of course you did you've grown up with that face. And such a nice body, it fits perfectly. You look all proportionate as well. Exactly what I'm looking for. I don't think you even need to try out, but just to be fair…" he stopped in front of an unemotional Sephiroth and nervously looked away from his blizzard eyes.
He instead moved around him and towards the wall just on the other side of the door he had just come in through. There were two large double doors that matched the russet colour of the walls, so bright compared to the white room. They were large and obviously enunciated something even larger inside of them. "This is my closet in the sky. It's where I keep all my latest designs. I have a rather nice bathroom just yonder where you can change." He grinned over his shoulder flirtatiously at Sephiroth, who barely acknowledged it, and dramatically threw the doors open. Sephiroth didn't bother looking inside; a plan was forming in his head.
Maybe this man, seemingly so fond of his looks, could supply him with a place to stay. In return for his "modeling" of course. He disappeared for a few moments and when he finally reemerged, Sephiroth was in the same spot and position. He hadn't moved an inch. Rufus unconsciously shuddered. Although beautiful, it was an icy beauty. He seemed rather haunting as well. But that would work just fine. After all, he could always pose in the Goth-cosplay section that Midgar fashions ran. He was the perfect model, since he didn't seem the smiling type.
Rufus was still grinning as he stepped back in front of Sephiroth and presented him with the outfit. "Accustomed to these bits of clothing?" he asked, almost suggesting he help him change. Sephiroth didn't answer, only asked something in his deeply haunting melodious voice: "Can you give me a place to stay in return for my…services?" he seemed reluctant to say it, but Rufus' eyes widened. He could set him up in an amazing penthouse rent-free then have the sap work for nothing.
"'Course. But that'll count as your pay." He was lying of course; it all came standard pretty much. If you got hired by Midgar Fashions you were bigger then big and richer then rich in no time at all. But he didn't need to know that. He seemed to agree by the strict set of his jaw. "And you need to do everything I tell you as well." Rufus warned. Sephiroth met his eyes and Rufus became instantly dizzy. Such ice! "Hand me that." And he held out his arm.
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(Cloud's POV)
Cloud was still gasping as he emerged outside of the Midgar Fashions building. He had no idea how to get in, but he was lucky enough that Sephiroth was just emerging as Cloud contemplated this. He seemed to find Cloud with his eyes right away. Cloud shivered when he felt them gazing deep into him. Those eyes seemed so different from the bewildered ones' he had caught only a few days ago. How could he have changed like that?
Sephiroth stayed where he was, so Cloud approached him and as soon as he pulled his eyes away from Sephiroth's his anger flared as strong as ever. "Why did you leave like that? I would have brought you here!" Sephiroth didn't seem to acknowledge his anger and this only egged Cloud on. "Well what got shoved up your ass!" he pointed an accusing finger like some kind of arrow aiming right for him.
Sephiroth looked down to the point of the finger assailing him then back to Cloud and finally into his eyes. "I'm not staying with you anymore." Suddenly, the arrow Cloud had pointed at Sephiroth spun around and pierced him in the heart. He dropped his finger in shock and stuttered: "H-Huh?" Sephiroth closed his eyes slowly, seemed to take a deep breath and then took a step back. "Thank you for all your help." And he turned back around and walked back into the building.
Cloud stood aghast and dumbfounded for what felt like forever until his mind kicked in: 'Don't let him get away! He's the best thing that's ever happened to you and you're letting him walk away from you! Go get him!' And he stalked forward into the building. He saw Sephiroth moving just around the corner. He took off after him, for once loving his long legs for his speed. As he rounded the corner he saw Sephiroth spot him as the elevator door closed and Cloud was surprised to see Sephiroth's mask had dropped and his face was open. Cloud read it like a book. He looked, if anything, regretful and angry.
Cloud slid to a halt and watched Sephiroth as the door closed finally with a firm click. And then, for the first time in his life, Cloud Strife felt his heart shatter. He turned and walked out of the building with everyone in the lobby gaping at him. He stood outside on the steps he turned and eyed the elevator shafts that were built with the purpose so that as you rode up them you had an outside view of the city below. He focused on one shaft that went all the way to the top and the gray speck traveling up it. "I don't need you!" he screamed at it, "I don't ever want to see you again you bastard!" he watched the elevator until he could see it no longer. He let his head drop and he clenched his fists so tight his nails drew blood; he couldn't feel it, the roar of pain inside him was much too powerful. "Never come back…" he whispered before he turned back and headed for his apartment.
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(Cloud's POV)
It was almost two weeks before Cloud saw the first ad. It was small at first. Just a few posters or, he noticed someone reading it on the subway, a magazine ad. But he looked somehow, even more beautiful when dressed in their clothing. It was a fantasy line, so all of the clothes were rather outrageous, but of course he made it look less fantasy-driven as himself.
A man could not posses such beauty, or silver hair, not acquired from old age, it just was not possible. But he did. How, it was unknown, and everyone seemed to puzzle it. Everyone wanted to know who he was. It was only one photo shoot; just one picture that made him instantly the talk of underground Tokyo.
It was almost as if, really, he wore nothing at all. He sat on some kind of nighttime sky canvas, rich azure and blinking stars all around him, illuminating his hair like the crescent moon he sat on. He hadn't tried to smile, or look a certain way. Cloud knew that kind of thing wasn't in him. He had merely looked himself, if not slightly sulky, and worn that outfit, and had that hair and that face and that too-fair complexion. He was just amazing, but he hadn't tried.
His outfit consisted of…well, practically nothing and it made Cloud bristle. Too tight to not be his skin leather. It looked to be a one piece, but when you looked close enough you saw the divide between the pants and the top. It was long sleeve and the sleeves were actual fabric, and sheer almost netting that stretched into a thin layer over his hands and long fingers. Everything was black, only making him look more ethereal and as if he was lit with some kind of somber inner light that illuminated his passive face. There was absolutely no emotion in him. Boots, matching, looking as form-fitting and tight as the outfit that you almost weren't sure if it was the outfit, or separate boots. But they were separate and available for purchase. As was the outfit.
But it didn't sell. He, however, did. Suddenly every top designer who had seen the ad or heard about the mysterious model wanted him. No one knew if he was real, or a computer image. The reason everyone thought he was a fake was mainly due to the most realistic, yet impossible feature that made the photo. His wings. Two small black wings matching the outfit in texture poking out from his back and folded to the side, so both were viewable from the side where the sharp tips curved upwards.
………
The next ad came only a few weeks later. Cloud was walking through the streets, late at night, for he had lost the ability to sleep for many reasons, one of them being the man he now was staring at on the side of the bus station, and the other involving his pained and itchy shoulder blades. He let himself gape for as long as he thought appropriate before he allowed himself anger ands self-hatred.
He had beaten the first photo. Now everyone would be in true doubt if he were real or not. He was standing on the moon this time. Well, not the real moon, mind you, but a very realistic simulation, this time dressed in something that looked like some kind of flowing robe at first glance. It was in fact something like a robe, but it was pure white. He accompanied it bare-chested and in a pair of very tight, very short black leather shorts. They had painted designs up his bare legs, black swirls, sharp-edged, looking like tattoos, or some kind of ancient pattern inscribed by the gods on this obvious angel of the moon.
His beautiful hair was pulled back loosely, so some strands still fell around his bewitching eyes, which were closed in this shot, and golden thread and small flowers were tied into the many ribbons that were threaded through his silver mane. This time he wore another pair of boots, but they were chunky and decorated with many chains. His wings were much larger and spread wide on either side of him, casting shadows onto the "moon's" surface. Below the name of Midgar Fashions was written in long flowing letters: "Moon Lover".
Cloud scoffed. For all he knew the man came from the moon. He turned away and felt like turning back around and spitting on the image before his CD playing loudly and avidly in his large headphones rang out the lyrics for one of his favourite songs. The chorus, somehow, just struck him in the heart. He let it flow over him, the picture and the song fitting in a kind of synchrony that literally took his mind into its left brain domination and his breath harshly from his lungs:
"Boku no sugata ga miemasu ka?
Kono tozasareta sekai nara
Anata ni mo kono koe ga todoiteiru hazu
(Can you see my silhouette?
If it's this closed off world
My voice should even reach you)
Boku no kokoro ga miemasu ka?
Mou nido to hanasanai kara
Karappo no kono hako ni modoshite…
(Can you see my heart?
Because I won't let go again
I'll return to my empty shell…)
(A/N: Bazillion points if you know the song! Oh and it's not mine…but I have the singer chained in my basement! ;) )
Cloud gasped as he came back due to a painful jolt in his shoulder blades. He hissed and dropped to the cement of the sidewalk sitting legs crossed Indian-style and pulling his checkered messenger bag off of his shoulders, beginning to scratch harshly, attempting to get his paint-scarred and to-the- nub-bitten fingernails to find a purchase and slay whatever had been bothering him so. But he didn't stop the pain or the eternal itch, so cursing in fluent English and German he stood and grabbed his bag, swinging it over his shoulder in a much-practiced move, taking off at break-neck speed for his apartment. His lonely apartment.
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(Cloud's POV)
The rest of that dreaded night was somewhat of a blur for Cloud. All he really remembered was when he ripped off his shirt, when he writhed on the floor in both pain and irritation and when he finally, in the wee hours of the morning, lost consciousness.
……
Cloud moaned as he let his eyes open in pained cracks. He felt…groggy, pained and…wet? He sat up fast and brilliant stars exploded before his eyes. He screamed in pain. His back! It was his back that hurt him like this! He never recalled hurting this much in his whole life. Blackness rose into his vision, threatening to take him into submission, but he fought hard biting his lip to let that pain be his anchor to stay conscious. After a few precarious moments he finally felt he could open his eyes and look down to see what coated him in sticky wetness. When he did he almost threw-up, but managed to hold it down. Blood. Blood coated his floor like paint. It was a large puddle around him and his whole lower side, half of his face and his hair were seeped in it. He shot to his feet, but vertigo took him down hard again. His fall brought him back into nothingness.
……
When he finally awoke again he was hungry. Then he remembered the blood and promptly emptied his stomach onto the tile of his kitchen where he'd collapsed. His back still pained him, but like his migraine it was in pulsing throbs. He could handle that, he decided as he stood using the counter as a support. He pulled himself up and tried not to vomit again, even though there wasn't anything in his stomach for him to throw-up. He really needed a drink, but first he had to figure out whose blood coated his floor and what he had done. He shivered suddenly as he realised the blood was warm. It was fresh.
He wanted desperately to rinse it from him, but he needed to make sure he hadn't killed anyone, or wasn't about to die himself. He peered into his living room. Well, no corpses. He tensed as he felt an odd gust of wind on his neck as if someone had moved. He tried to whip around in the chair and see, but he fell off and back into the large puddle of blood. He gagged, as if to throw-up, but nothing came out as he'd suspected. Instead he jumped up and back into the chair, small sobs escaping him.
He tried to get a hold of himself and figure out what had caused the movement. Suddenly he froze. A thought in his mind had suspected something, but he knew it was impossible. And yet, it nagged him. So as if to prove himself wrong he reached behind him and felt his back. Damp, dripping in blood, sore and when he reached his shoulder blades….skin, a scar of some kind that he'd never had before and….wait! What was this! No, this couldn't be…could it? But that was impossible!
He shot up, finding strength he hadn't had just moments ago and bolted to his bathroom, trailing blood on his carpet. He didn't care just now; all that mattered was his wall-to-wall mirror in his bathroom. He stumbled on the stairs and fell banging his knee, but he only jumped back up and was off. When he reached the bathroom he was slightly out of breath and hunched over, but he managed to take a deep breath and face the mirror. He screamed and toppled backwards into his bathtub. His head connected with the harsh side and he groaned before jumping out and facing the mirror again.
His breathing came in harsh gasps and his face was oddly pale as his shadowed eyes gazed at the protrusions not normal to his body. "Sephiroth what the hell have you done to me?" he whispered. Finally he couldn't look any longer and he turned away and faced his shower deep in thought. So. This meant he must be like Sephiroth. Which somewhat explained his power…speaking of which, he wondered if he still had it. Trying to convince himself not to, he let his eyes focus on the soap in its monotonous place in his plastic soap dish decorated with a dancing frog.
Then he did as he had always known to do in some kind of fabric in his genes: he wanted the soap in his hands so he let himself feel the soap, the texture, the very atoms of it became familiar to him and he flicked his head towards himself. The soap landed in his hands with a slight plop. He grinned. So that still worked at least.
He sighed. "I'll take a shower and see if I can't figure anything out afterwards…." He turned on the water and let his shower calm him slightly. As he stepped out and walked to his room naked he slipped on a pair of shorts and then moved back into his kitchen and contemplated how to clean it.
……..
Cloud sighed in satisfaction this time. After four hours of scrubbing his floor looked almost satisfactory. The blood was gone, although it still stained slightly. He had bleached his carpet to the best of his ability and the small trail he had left on his way to his bathroom was now faded. If he never looked at it again he would forget. The sudden gust on his neck made his face darken. Maybe not so easily forgotten.
He needed to find Sephiroth. But how? He didn't even know where he was living now. He flicked his head over towards the counter and the cleaning rag in his hand slid onto it. It had never been this easy to move things before. Maybe the…things on his back made it easier. There were scabs and scars where they poked from, already closed and healed if not sore, and yet he had lost so much blood and was still alive. He felt…odd though. His body somehow felt foreign. As if he'd been….no, that's just nonsense. Then he thought of what was on his back and he reconsidered. He needed to find Sephiroth.
…….
Cloud took a deep breath as he faced the fashion shoot entrance. He had heard from some friends, with some money, that they were shooting in the city outside today and he only hoped he would be here. He stepped from the dark alley he had hidden himself in and faced the shoot. There was hardly any security and he hoped he could get in looking like he did.
He'd combed his hair out straight, somehow, with many hours of gel and pure strength, and the ends were still the ice blue. He'd done his best to look like a model, but it had been hard. He had settled on some of Sephiroth's clothes from the store, a nice black top and sharp pants. He felt nice, pretty, model-ish, but who knew if he would pass the test? He strode forward confidently and as a small group of photographers entered he slipped in amongst them and found himself inside the gated area.
He tried not to cry out in happiness, but instead headed off to search for his silver angel. He blended in rather well he thought. He got a few strange looks, perhaps because of the rather suspicious lumps on his back that occasionally twitched, but he ignored the stares and tried to keep them very still, but it was hard. They always wanted to move.
He was able to find Rufus easily. And with Rufus was…Cloud gasped, he couldn't help it. Sephiroth was just so glorious in person. His hair was pulled back much in the way it had been in his last picture, he was dressed simply, black button-up shirt open all the way and blowing in the slight breeze. Black pants and chunky boots. (AN: Sorry my colours aren't very original…heh-heh…) Immediately his anger left him and he felt his wonder and lust for the man come back full power.
He was gaping, this he knew, but he could barely stop himself. If anything, Sephiroth looked no different, maybe more glamorous, but not much difference. And yet it was more like because he had gone so long without seeing him, almost four weeks, it seemed to have the same effect on him when he had first seen the man; as if he were deprived of him. And suddenly he found bright greenish-blue eyes staring back at him, wide in both surprise and doubt.
Cloud flushed a deep red and hid behind the wall of the building he had been peering around. But Sephiroth was coming over; he could feel the man's every move as if he were some kind of beacon in a dark room. So Cloud did the only probable thing hr could think of: he ran. Long legs propelling him like a bullet he took off fast in the direction he'd come.
The gate around where the shoot was held only kept the small park between two business offices' gated so he was able to slip through the guards on the opposite end to a few shouts, but no-one tried to stop him. He ran into another alley that led into the many twisting turns and back alleys of Tokyo. It was an amazing and intricate underworld of fire-escapes and dim sunlight.
His energy was still low from his huge, yet un-fatal blood loss so his running soon stopped and he leaned into the brick wall at his back. The things on his back twitched so he pulled his shirt off and leaned off a bit so only his lower neck took the weight. They began moving immediately, glad for their freedom from the fabric prison. His gasps hurt his lungs, but his pained back from the imprisonment hurt more.
"You followed me." Cloud cried out and jumped, opening his closed eyes from his rest on the wall, and was greeted by those same bright eyes. He stopped breathing, although he desperately needed to. He still looked emotionless and this made Cloud's heart hurt, and he felt his anger coming back and all other thoughts of him disappear.
"What the hell are you doing to me!" he shouted, pointing an accusing finger in the pale man's face. He must've chased Cloud the whole way, yet he looked perfectly in place down to his shirt. Cloud was slightly sweaty from his run and yet Sephiroth looked not even flushed. His perfection only annoyed Cloud more. "What do you mean? I've done nothing." "Yes you have, you've cast some kind of weird spell and made me all confused and now look!" And Cloud spun around and presented Sephiroth with his new features.
He thought he heard him gasp, but when he turned around his lips were drawn into a straight line, so Cloud thought he had maybe mistaken the noise. "Wings." "Yes damnit wings! They're feathered too! And rainbow! Not like those leather things you have! I demand you un-do whatever you've done to me immediately!" he forced himself into Sephiroth's face so the silver-haired man could see his flashing eyes and know how serious he was. "I've cast no spell. Your wings you've had all along it only took my arrival to awaken them." "What so I'm some kind of winged freak like you!" Cloud knew he had stepped over some kind of line, he saw it in Sephiroth's eyes which had suddenly become cold and steely.
"I'm sorry I've displeased you your Highness. As your humble servant and protector please forgive me." And he bowed low to the ground on one knee. "Are you mocking me?" Cloud cried, slightly thrown-off by how normal that gesture seemed to him especially coming from Sephiroth. "Why don't you remember yet? You're the prince of my, no our, homeland, and I am your humble guard and servant." His voice would have sounded sarcastic had it held any emotion.
"Damn it all, Sephiroth, get up." Cloud ran a hand through his now-straight hair, not used to its new feel. "You don't want to ruin your clothes." Cloud let the bite in his words be felt. Sephiroth stood, but kept his eyes lowered. "Stop it! I'm not royal, no matter what you think! You don't need to treat me like a prince." Sephiroth didn't listen. Cloud, angry again, grabbed his chin and forced his eyes to his own. His skin was so cold! His eyes were wide, as if surprised by his touch. He couldn't stop a little of his heart from showing in his eyes, and he hoped Sephiroth didn't acknowledge the love that was apparent there.
"Look at me. I won't have you bowing in front of me. Even if I am royal, we're on this world, not yours', so I command you treat me like you used to and don't act like such a prick." He smiled a little and hoped it would melt the ice in his glowing eyes. Sephiroth pulled his face away. "Why do you that? You always have, looking at me like that, you're only teasing me." his voice was low, barely a murmur. "I'm not teasing you…" Cloud trailed off. "You are! With that innocent face and that body…and those eyes that are just too clear and see right through me…if I don't get away from you, I'll do something we'll both regret." Cloud shivered. Was this a love confession? Did Sephiroth feel the same way Cloud felt all too strongly? He wasn't going to let him get away this time.
His hand rested on Sephiroth's cheek, for he'd turned his head to the side, his cheeks slightly red as if he were angry at himself for saying what he'd just said, and he said in a husky voice: "I regret nothing. Trust me, Sephie-kun." Sephiroth went rigid at his touch, but when he used the nickname he turned to look at Cloud, eyes wide again, this time in slight disbelief. "Sephie-kun?" he asked as his eyebrow rose. Cloud giggled. He nodded and looked into Sephiroth's eyes. They were clouded slightly in an emotion Cloud easily recognised. Lust. His eyes moved down to Cloud's slightly parted lips. Cloud felt his whole body begging him to do it, to kiss him senseless.
And much to his delight, Sephiroth, very carefully and frailly, placed his lips on Cloud's. As soon as they touched, Cloud felt sparks light in him. Sephiroth must've felt the same, for suddenly he grabbed Cloud's bare shoulders and thrust him against the brick wall behind them. Cloud gasped as his still sore shoulders hit the brick, and Sephiroth took this as an invitation. His tongue slid into Cloud's mouth with vigor, and he was soon almost drinking in the honeyed mouth.
Cloud closed his eyes and let Sephiroth take over. For a supposed virgin he sure was good at finding every place in Cloud's mouth that was perfectly sensitive. And boy, did he taste good. A nice sharp taste, very manly and strong. Cloud knew he could last the rest of his life tasting him. Sephiroth's hands moved from his shoulders, which he had been gripping very hard, and up to his hair which he ran his hand through once or twice before they moved back down and ran over his slightly smaller chest, making Cloud gasp as he found a reddened nub.
His back arched off the wall and his mouth parted from Sephiroth's for a moment before the older man growled and took it again. This time Cloud did his own bit of exploring and liked the moan and growls he got in return for stroking his tongue against Sephiroth's. Sephiroth's hands were on the move again, this time sliding down his slightly ticklish sides and resting on his small waist. They stroked his flat stomach and then dipped to his lower naval before resting again on his hips. He broke the kiss first and nibbled on Cloud's lower lip. Cloud gasped below him, every nerve in his body on fire and calling for more. His lips would be bruised something horrible, but he felt Sephiroth could rip his lip off with his teeth and he would still have more pleasure then pain.
Sephiroth was too breathing heavily, but his breaths were deeper and more measured. "You're…familiar to me." he whispered into Cloud's hair. Cloud felt a blush coming to his cheeks. "You too. Have we done this before? Did you rape me in my sleep? Cuz that would explain all the dreams…" Cloud trailed off and laid his head on Sephiroth's shoulder. He heard a slight rumble come from his chest and realised it was laughter. It was a short thing and barely left his lips, but Cloud treasured it all the same. "I must be the luckiest man alive." He whispered again. Cloud looked up to him, coming only to his neck, and cocked his head in a cute little manner. "Doushite Sephie-kun?"
Sephiroth let a small smile creep onto his lips and Cloud once again treasured his nice smile that lit his face in a very pleasant manner. "Because I have a little blonde angel bare-chested with an innocent little flushed face looking up at me, and I like his look of just being kissed breathless." Cloud blushed again and looked back down. His hands rested on Sephiroth's chest. "Yes well, you are the most amazing beautiful creature I've ever met." He mumbled into his chest. "Mhmm…" Sephiroth rumbled closing his eyes and treasuring just holding him close. "Sephie-kun?" "Uh-huh?" Sephiroth asked.
"What now?"
TBC!
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AN2: Well that feels like an ending doesn't it? I assure it isn't, I just think I may have written myself into a corner, so the next chapter may be a bit long coming, but good news! Am working on a very steamy lemon (in the shower ) and another TWO count em TWO fics involving Sephie-kun and little Cloud-chan, which I feel are a hell of a lot better then this, since they're not OOC or AU. Yay! Make sure to read!
So, a kiss scene! You've all been clamoring for one since the beginning and sorry it took so long, but here it is! Hope it's okay; I'm really self-conscious bout this stuff, since I don't think I'm all too good at it. But I'm trying a lemon, so wish me luck, nya? All rightie gotta go and make sure you have a yaoilicious day! ;)
Special Thankies and huggles!
DarkKatana, dogcollar (love the name, and thanks for the pointers!), one-winged-shinigami (thanks for the nice criticism love! Hope this chapter's a bit better!), Blue wings of bliss (I love you so much….), Sess-GalX50 (You're interesting, review me again!) Raditz12 (This chapter's for you, and sorry it took so long, but you were my favourite review!) and Faded Glitter (blunt and appreciated!). And everyone else!
NO FLAMES! PLEASE!
Love and peace,
-Kurai-Tenshi of Doom
