As you can see, I'm still not working on my translation. But, to redeem myself concerning that frankly disturbing story I wrote last time for this fandom, here is something sweeter.

It's an AU, so if you want to know beforehand:

- Cloud is a 20yo trans man and a Third class SOLDIER

- The Firsts covertly joined AVALANCHE to take down Shinra

- Sephiroth never went mad (and hopefully never will)

It wasn't that Cloud disliked 'girl clothes'. Aerith's usual dresses were cute, and Tifa was always beautiful, no matter what she wore. There was nothing wrong with their clothes. Plus, there was a wide variety of them, and they often came in so many colors and patterns that something had to suit someone's taste. So, he was fine with 'girl clothes'.

As long as they were not on him.

It was only clothes, it shouldn't have mattered that much. Except it did, for some reason. 'Girl clothes' were good for people who wanted to wear them; girls, women and people like Andrea Rhodea who did whatever they wanted. But not for Cloud.

Definitely not for Cloud.

He hated the flimsiness of their fabric, the cuts that were either skin-tight or full of openings – and sometimes both – to show more of his body than he was willing to share with everyone, the way everything had to look good together all the time.

Maybe his judgment was flawed, but that was how he felt and he figured that there was nothing unjustified in his reasoning. Moreover, Cloud only put these thoughts on himself. He would never dare to impose his opinion on anyone, so long as he was excluded of the subject.

Which was why he had nearly shut the door in Tifa's face when she had asked for his help. Even if it was her own bar's door.

But she had pleaded her case, and he had always been much too weak against her. And it was for a good cause. Don Corneo was really a disgusting pig and very few people would miss him once he was dealt with.

He hoped the whole ordeal could be over and done quickly, but no, of course not. Apparently, they needed a real plan. A real plan involving a complete meeting with AVALANCHE and all the First class SOLDIERs betraying Shinra. It seemed that Don Corneo was ruling Wall Market only because the President had ordered the Turks to put him there years ago. Funny, how a pig could hide another. Anyway, it meant that they couldn't take him out just like that – not that the current Turks would have tried to stop them, seeing how they despised the guy – hence the careful planning.

Hence the heated discussion about the proper way to dress him. He hated it. Genesis, Tifa and Aerith were arguing about which color would suit him better, Barret and Zack were laughing their asses off and everyone else was chuckling – traitors all of them – or smiling, save for Angeal – bless his heart – who was trying to calm them down, and Sephiroth, who was just sitting there with his usual impassive look.

And Cloud… Well, he was angry – and he had the feeling that it wouldn't get better before this mission was over. Angry at Tifa for letting it get this far when she knew. Angry at himself for agreeing in the first place.

He needed air.

Leaving abruptly like that was going to earn him a light scolding later, but anything was better than having to listen to this conversation. Outside of the Seventh Heaven, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

It was only for a mission. And it was true that no one else could do it. The other SOLDIERs were too recognizable and the AVALANCHE members weren't strong enough. Cloud was the obvious choice. Wearing girls' clothing was a small price to pay for the safety of dozens of women.

He would have just liked it better if he hadn't been the one to pay.

A large hand landed on his shoulder, startling him so badly that he nearly let out a high-pitched squeak.

"Apologies," said Sephiroth with as much gentleness as he could muster – which was a lot more than the public imagined – and the ghost of a smile on his lips, "I didn't expect to find you so distracted."

Cloud grunted in reply. They fell into companionable silence – neither of them was too fond of pleasantries and that had helped their friendship in the beginning – before the General spoke again.

"You seem particularly unhappy with this mission. Will it be alright?"

"It has to be done."

"Zack could go in your place, if you really don't want to go near Don Corneo."

He laughed. It was sweet that the other thought it was this sorry excuse of a man who made him uncomfortable. And his best friend in a dress would surely be quite the sight. But…

"He's not as famous as you, Angeal or Genesis, but people know his face since he made it to First class. It'll be fine. I'd just like it better if they didn't treat me like a doll."

Sephiroth made a low sound in the back of his throat – the way he managed to make that simple thing hot was a mystery of the universe – and turned to look at him in the eyes. He could feel his face flush under the intensity of this green stare, but he refused to back down first. Cloud was aware of his own attraction to the man who had been his idol during his whole childhood. He was just as aware of the other's interest in him.

His younger self would have been overjoyed to have caught the eye of the very embodiment of perfection. Not that he wasn't happy to know that his attentions were returned but… Things were just more complicated now and he wasn't ready. So he ignored his rising heartbeat, like he always did, and pretended that he didn't notice the General's.

A gloved hand grazed his cheek and his breath hitched in surprise. Never before had Sephiroth actually made such a blatant move. Fortunately, footsteps coming from the inside of the bar broke the moment – keeping him from doing something stupid, like confessing his feelings right there – and the hand quickly fell from his face.

The mission came back to his mind. No, he definitely wasn't ready to start something with the silver-haired man. Not when serious discussions would be needed and would possibly change everything because of a tiny little detail, only to be immediately followed by that almost humiliating performance he would have to put on for the greater good. It was a little shameful to admit, but Cloud was scared. Voicing feelings had never really been his thing after all.

Tifa came out, her smile so bright it almost hurt to look at it. She had probably won her argument against Aerith and Genesis, and he was relieved to have successfully managed to avoid the end of their discussion. He would only invest himself a minimal amount in all the preparations that did not require his skills.

She motioned at them to come back inside and they followed her without hesitation. It was time to talk about the technical parts of the plan. Finally.

In the end, it was really easy. Aerith, Tifa and Cloud would go to Don Corneo's mansion as baits. No matter who was chosen, the other two would sent a signal, then try to reach the room where their friend had been brought. Meanwhile, the others would break in right after deactivating all the cameras – no proof so that Shinra wouldn't dare to accuse their best elements based on the testimony of a drunkard. Everyone would team up to give the man, and his loyal bodyguards, a good scare and hopefully, he would know what was good for him and stop his disgusting dealings or run far away from Midgar and never come back.

And if they caught wind of his inability to stay put, well. Accident happened, especially in a dangerous place like Wall Market. Anyway, no one would regret him – or else they wouldn't have managed to sway Leslie to their side.

The date was set, and everyone was left to their own preparations. Which meant that everyone – especially Tifa, Aerith, Genesis and Zack – wanted to have a say in what Cloud was going to wear, and his patience was thinning rapidly.

He didn't want to think about dresses, wigs or heel size. He didn't even need to look good, because it didn't really matter who would be chosen. And he certainly didn't want to be.

But the Planet wasn't so kind as to listen to mundane prayers like these, and Cloud found himself at the Seventh Heaven, surrounded by his personal army of wannabe stylists, barely a week before the big day. He had tried – really he had, and it had been akin to going on the front lines – the convince them to let him wear a short and a t-shirt. And of course, they had refused.

He would be under-dressed, they said. He had to look convincing, they said.

The ominous feeling that had settled in his bones since he had realized that there was no way out intensified considerably. At that very second, Cloud knew.

There would be a dress. There would be heels. There would be everything he hated to see on himself with a burning passion.

How he would have liked to be wrong.

The disguise came right out of his worst nightmares. Layers of frills and flimsy fabric, uncomfortable shoes and a stupid-looking wig. At least, they hadn't gone all out on the make up, only a bit of eyeliner, and it was surprisingly alright – even if it reminded him of the Turks. But for the rest… Seeing himself like this felt wrong on so many levels that he feared looking at his reflection for one more second would make him sick.

However, it appeared that turning towards everyone else was also a mistake. Biggs and Angeal were the only one who seemed to think about the mission. Next to them, Jessie, Wedge and Zack looked weirdly impressed while Aerith and Genesis were examining him critically, occasionally fussing over a crooked bow. Barret was laughing at him, as usual, and Tifa's grin was so smug that he had the fleeting thought of inviting her for a spar that would leave her sore for days. And yet, the worse unexpectedly came from the General.

Because Sephiroth looked at him – at him in a dress – with an unmistakable glint of interest in his eyes, and that hurt more than anything.

"Wow, you're really convincing!"

Cloud didn't think that he had ever looked at Zack with murderous intent before, but at that very moment, he certainly did.

As much as he dreaded the day of the mission, it couldn't come fast enough. He figured that it would only be a few hours of being uncomfortable and that he could conveniently forget it all once he was done. Really, how bad could it truly be?

Much more than he had anticipated, that was how bad.

Oh, the mission was a success, obviously. Don Corneo had nearly lost control of his bladder even before Genesis appeared in the bedroom. Everything went according to plan.

Except that the one thing he had believed impossible had happened.

Tifa was curvy, confident and clad in one of the most scanty dresses he had ever seen – not that he had seen many of those. Aerith was gentle, graceful and gorgeous in the party dress she wore for the occasion – again, it wasn't like he knew anything about that.

Next to them, well… For lack of better words, Cloud looked like an angry chocobo. His surly face, his slightly too muscular limbs, his constant nervous fidgeting… At best, he looked like a teenager forced to dress up and brought to a party without their consent – and that was almost exactly what he was, save for the fact that he was twenty – which should have overruled the possibility of Cloud being chosen.

So of course, Don Corneo had chosen him. In the heat of the moment, he had only found it in himself to be disgusted. But once it was over, it had dawned on him. He had been chosen because, despite everything, he looked like a girl. A man surrounded by many different women all the time had looked at him and hadn't doubted that Cloud was one too.

It had seriously dampened his mood while everyone was leaving Wall Market, talking about drinks to celebrate their easy victory. And it was about to get worse.

He was relieved to see the Seventh Heaven, because the dress felt stifling, even if he hadn't worn it that long. Everyone was having fun, Sephiroth was still more or less openly staring at him, and he would soon be back in his own clothes – in his own skin.

They had barely crossed the door when Tifa turned towards him, a brilliant smile on her lips, eyes still twinkling with laughter.

"Wasn't it fun, Claudia?"

And suddenly, he was so cold under the uncomfortable disguise. He could almost feel the blood leaving his face as every muscle in his body tensed. He gritted his teeth – the sound of it so loud in his buzzing ears – before coming to an abrupt decision.

A second later, leaving the shoes behind, Cloud was stepping away from the torn dress pooled around his ankles, only clad in his boxers and disappeared in the back. He put his shirt and pants back on listening to the deafening silence of the other room. The bar's door slammed behind him as he left.

He didn't know where he was going. All that mattered was the space he could put between himself and her.

When they had met again in Midgar, she had been understanding. She had promised to never talk about that unless it was an emergency. Tifa had promised, and now, seeing that Claudia – delicate, round-cheeked Claudia – still existed for her, even if Cloud – with his broader shoulders and his sharper jaw – was right in front of her tasted like betrayal. It hurt more than he thought it would. Maybe because he had stopped expecting the slip up after all this time.

He ended up in a park, probably all the way back into Sector 6, and sat on top of a dome that made a tunnel for children to pass through.

For her defense, his childhood friend had looked horrified at herself the moment she realized her mistake, and she would probably apologize later and mean it. And he would forgive her, because he knew, deep down, that she would never do that on purpose. That it was probably seeing him in a dress for the first time in almost ten years, with the same eyes and the same hair, that had brought up memories and caused her to call him like that.

But for now, Cloud needed to be angry, if only to expel his feelings about this disaster of a mission. And he couldn't have done that back at the headquarter with everyone celebrating around him.

The sound of gravel grinding under boots made him look up and found himself unexpectedly – or maybe not that much – staring at Sephiroth. The older man leaned against the dome – it was probably undignified for a General to climb up – and they both stayed silent for a while.

"Are you alright?"

Cloud didn't know, really. So he deflected.

"You understood, right?"

The General hummed softly.

"I don't think that anyone else did, if it worries you."

"How would you know that?"

And under his scrutinizing stare, he was surprised to see the other blush. Oh, it was almost nothing, the barest hint of pink dusting his cheekbones, but it was there. Green eyes shifted towards the Plate hanging above them and Cloud almost missed the muttered answer.

"You turned your back to use quickly, so I doubt that anyone else was staring hard enough at your chest to notice the scars."

His cheeks suddenly got much warmer and he turned to gaze at the Plate too. Then, an idea formed in his mind.

"Did you like the dress then?"

And sure enough, Sephiroth's face reddened further. It was obvious, even from the corner of his eyes.

"Angeal lost a bet years ago and Lazard made him wear a skirt. He looked ridiculous, but Genesis spent the day looking at his legs. I thought… But you were still beautiful."

"Yeah, Don Corneo seemed to think I was a beautiful woman too."

Something dangerous glinted in the silver-haired man's eyes as he faced Cloud once again.

"I could have killed him just for that."

He let out a breathless laugh, and the lack of his usual composure made him look younger, and more vulnerable somehow.

"And it wasn't the dress. Nor the misconstrued idea that you are a woman. I know you're not. It was you and how beautiful you are no matter the situation." A predatory smirk graced his pale lips and Cloud felt a shiver run down his spine. "If you must know, you were also magnificent when you were angry."

His face must have been flaming by now, he distantly fought, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Mimicking actions from weeks ago, he placed a hand on the Sephiroth's cheek – and this time, it wasn't his breath that stopped.

And because he was taller for once, Cloud allowed himself a smug grin before tilting the other's face up and kissing him.

It was just a kiss – it was everything.

Just a gentle little thing and yet, it changed everything.

It was over all too soon, but maybe its brevity only served to make it more precious.

He slid down the dome and without looking at the General, whose stare was burning holes along his back, made his way towards the exit.

"Let's go back."

They still had things to talk about, but Cloud didn't want to ruin his newfound good mood. There would be time for everything else later. Celebratory drinks suddenly sounded like a good plan.

"Hey, Sephiroth?"

A hum answered him from were the older man was located a few steps behind him. Who knew what prompted him to stay back instead of – oh. Cloud had to bite back a laugh, because he now had a fairly good idea of why he would do that.

"I love you."

And suddenly, two hands were on his shoulders and he was spun around to face wide-blown slit pupils.

"Me too, Cloud. I love you too."

This time, when the kiss fell on his lips, much more desperate than before as if Sephiroth had been holding back, Cloud told himself that their friends at the Seventh Heaven and their drinks could wait.

They had more important things to do.

Oh my, aren't these boys cute?

Anyway, I really came out of my comfort zone (if you can call hundred of words of angst and a bittersweet or outright bad ending a comfort zone...) with that one!

Thanks for reading!