Title: Bad Luck
Rating: G/K
Characters: Leon, Cloud
Summary: Leon is not a superstitious person.
Notes: I wrote this for Friday the Thirteenth some odd months ago, so it's not really accurate any more, but whatever. Leon and Cloud, why are you both so fun to play with?
"You can't be serious about this, Cloud."
It was ridiculous. Who the hell believed in that kind of thing, anyway? He could understand young children, yes – he could even understand Yuffie – but a full-grown man?
But Cloud, of all people?
That was pushing it.
"I don't need any more bad luck, Leon. I have plenty. You should protect yourself, too, you know."
It was taking him all of his long practiced willpower to prevent himself from laughing and walking away.
Cloud was standing in front of him, face set into a visage of pure seriousness, with various 'good luck charms' littering his body. The blonde looked like an idiot, in Leon's honest opinion. A complete moron.
He was only wearing a pair of baby blue boxers (his lucky boxers, he had informed Leon) and a thin, white tank top, the goggles that he had 'borrowed' from Cid (for luck) strapped onto his head and Aerith's lucky hair ribbon bound around his left bicep.
It was pathetic.
"There is no such thing as 'bad luck.'"
"Sure there's not." Cloud rolled his eyes. "I mean Cid only tripped by chance. The fact that it's Friday the thirteenth has nothing to do with it."
"Exactly." With that he turned to leave, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other wrapped around the hilt of Revolver, a sigh leaving his lips in exasperation.
"Fine, don't listen. But when you come back with bad luck, I'm going to laugh at you. No sympathy at all."
"Whatever."
When Leon returned fifteen minutes later, three long scratches from a surprise attack running down his thigh – leaving a rather irreparable tear in his favorite pants and breaking one of his only belts – and a sprained ankle from a rather nasty tumbled down the stairs, all Cloud had to say was 'I told you so.'
