Author's Note: Beware of the hanky panky here. Cloud is learning how to 'let loose' here while trying to recover from his wild night of party.

CHAPTER 10: Adventures Down Under

Be careful what you wish for, kid. The sleeper's dream can quickly turn into a nightmare. Rod's last words still played in Cloud's mind as he waited for his Slack Season Wutai noodles and mindlessly tapped his fingers on the wooden counter. Above his head was a small black-and-white television with bunny-eared antennas. He had chosen a far corner spot at the restaurant's u-shaped counter, away from people. Cloud wasn't in the mood to make small random talk with anyone. Instead, he drank his glass of water in solitude and ignored the chaos around him.

The Diner had a good crowd thanks to the lunchtime rush hour. It was a popular place. Sadly, the owners of it couldn't think of an original name. Thus, the restaurant had simply been dubbed the Diner. Stupid? Yeah. To the point? Very much.

A thick haze had settled throughout the area. Large metal pots continuously steamed on rusted stoves. The Diner had all the style of a vintage restaurant with a few booths, a long wooden counter, and bricked walls. Black-and-white photographs lined against a wall, each showcasing the people and places connected to the establishment. At the far right corner of the place was a pool table and pinball machine. Unlike the restaurants on the Plate, there were no fancy digital interfaces or robots to tend to the Diner. It was all manual work committed by human hands. A rectangular shaped menu above the counter flickered on and off again and displayed the main entrees. Menus with more options were given out on cheap laminated paper.

Cloud's stomach grumbled from the smells of various dishes. With an impressive selection to choose from, the Diner served the best tasty and genuine food around. It was thanks to the surge of immigrants. Like Cloud, they all dreamt of making it big in Midgar City, only to fail and settle underground instead. They luckily brought with them the unique flavors of their native lands.

Glancing up at the television screen, Cloud watched the news coverage related to the Tsviets. The world was obsessed with them. Despite numerous requests, the super soldiers rarely conducted interviews and did not venture in public domain. Weiss the Immaculate often spoke on the group's behalf but kept his comments brief and sparse. Many tabloids that were on the hunt for juicy information claimed Weiss was in love. It must've been a special type of lady to attract the attention of a powerful Tsviet, Cloud thought. He sipped his water.

On the television screen was a blurred image of Weiss boarding a helicopter taken from a civilian's PHS. The teen halfway expected to hear about the alleged Tsviet sighting in the museum last night but nothing was mentioned. Neither was the shooting that supposedly happened. Before Cloud could contemplate over that, he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Beautiful," came a male's voice, "Wanna have some fun? I'll make it worth your wild for ten Gil."

Taken by surprise, Cloud almost choked on his water. He set his glass down. His stool squeaked when he turned to confront a man with low-rising jeans and a sleeveless, white fishnet hoodie. His lips shined with glittery lipstick. Cloud's eyes narrowed. "Fuck. Kyle. Is that gonna be your new pick-up line?"

"Maybe. It got you to turn, didn't it?" Kyle lowered his hoodie and took a seat next to him. When the waiter arrived he demanded a bowl of Mie Ayam with taro-flavored bubble tea. Afterward, he grabbed a napkin from a dispenser to spit out his gum. "I'm surprised to see you here, Cloud. You off today?"

"Yea. But don't get any ideas. I've got my evening class after this."

"Aw. You're no fun. I can't believe you're still obsessing over the army. Or the Tsviets, for that matter. I heard they're all mentally unstable freaks, no doubt from the mako they always shoot up."

"I don't care what you think. It's my ticket to a better life." Cloud glanced at the television box again. He saw Weiss's confident face fill the screen. Then he looked at all the disheveled people in the diner and sighed. "I'm tired of living in this shithole, Kyle, working at a stupid job I hate while trying to make it. I wasn't born for this. I was born to fight, to become something more."

"You know…" Kyle slowly began and leaned forward, "you're always introspective when you're moody, Cloud. You say some mind-trippy things when you're in the zone. Ha, I fucking love it."

"I'm happy to amuse you…" Cloud replied dead-panned.

Kyle rested a cheek on his palm and looked up at him. "How was your birthday party, love?"

"I can't say much about it. I got plastered last night."

One of Kyle's finely shaped brows rose. "Oh?"

"I blacked out."

At this, Kyle sat upright. He didn't blink. "Whoa. Wait a minute… You blacked-out?"

"Yeah…" Cloud replied indifferently. He took out a block of ice from his glass and sucked on it.

Kyle erupted in laughter. He laughed so much his face flushed brightly. "Holy shit, that's awesome!"

"Not really…" Wincing now, Cloud readjusted himself in his seat when his back stung against it. "I apparently got into a fight last night too. Over what, I don't remember. Everything is scrambled in my head. I had to crash at one of my friend's place. In fact, I just dropped her off before coming here."

"Heeeeeeer?" Kyle's wide-opened eyes stayed on Cloud. "Did you get laid too?"

"Not with her, idiot."

"Then with someone else?"

Cloud sucked on his ice cube again and thought a moment. It was hard to recall whether he had sex or not when half of his memory was infected by lucid dreams, wild thoughts, and blank spots. Reality intertwined with fantasy. Cloud was pretty sure he stayed at the booth most of the time, rarely interacting with the women at the club. Obviously, he didn't sleep with Jessie. And he didn't sleep with Ele' either since he would've been at her place this morning. It was a sure bet, then, he didn't have sex last night. That was a damn pity. He had wanted to unwind and celebrate his birthday with a big bang. Even so, a part of Cloud felt something had happened. Something else had transpired…

Are you just going to stand there gawking, boy?

"No," Cloud finally addressed Kyle again, unsure of that answer himself.

"No?" Next to him, Kyle frowned. "Well. That certainly sucks."

Cloud crushed the cube with his teeth. He rested his elbows on the counter and sat very hunched-like. "Whatever. I'm better off without sex. I need to stay focused. Sex is overrated anyway."

"Huh. Really?" Kyle slid a hand on Cloud's thigh. He gently squeezed it. "You sure about that?"

Cloud shot Kyle an annoyed look. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" the other boy innocently asked and rubbed his thigh.

"That. We're in public."

"So?" Kyle snickered and looked around. Everyone ate and talked; oblivious to them. He turned to Cloud. "See? Nobody knows what we're doing at our happy little corner. Public sex is fun anyway. Ever try it? It's like speed racing down a road without getting pulled over. Quite the adrenaline rush."

"You're weird." Cloud stared at the hand on his leg, grateful everything happened under the counter. "Can't you think of anything else besides sex?"

"Hey, you're the one thinking crazy here."

"Me?" Cloud sounded offended. "I'm not the one feeling up another guy right now, am I?"

Kyle took a long look at Cloud. His eyes followed the length of him, from his face to his body. "Despite what you might think, you've got the physical demands of any seventeen-year-old boy, Cloud. I know you beat off at home as much as I do. But, damn, when it comes to hooking up with someone? Well, you got all the ambition of a cranky lady on the rag, I'm afraid."

Cloud's initial reaction was to punch Kyle and tell him to fuck off. But he snorted instead, trying to suppress a laugh. Admittedly, he did find the analogy pretty funny. His reluctance to indulge in reckless sexual conquests like many boys did probably made him the most conservative person in Midgar. The two teens shared a chuckle and relaxed.

"All I'm saying is your youth ain't gonna last forever," Kyle explained later. "Pretty soon that pretty face of yours will have all the wrinkles and warts of an old man. If you're lucky, you'll have an old lady still alive and willing to blow you. Otherwise, you'll have to pay for someone to do it. You'll start to regret all those younger days you hadn't let loose, back when the world still wanted to fuck you."

Cloud stared at his glass. The final blocks of ice continued to melt away as time ticked on. Quietly, he said, "I think you're overthinking things."

"Am I?" Kyle' paused long enough to position his hand over the front of Cloud's trousers. Even when the other teen appeared alarmed by this, he massaged the warm, soft budge there. Kyle leaned closer and spoke directly into Cloud's ear. "I know how it all plays out, you know. It used to gross me out when an old man crawled in bed with me, paying me to fuck him. But then I realized he is a walking and withering corpse. No one wants to fuck a rotting body. These old geezers are alone in the world in this sense. Their families have moved on and are simply waiting for them to die to collect the assets. Do you know what a walking dead man often thinks about before he dies? Getting laid."

Kyle's voice was serious and hushed, even as his hand moved in a slow rhythm below. He worked the budding muscle between the legs. Electric nerves shot up and Cloud softly exhaled.

"It kinda gives you a new perspective on life, you know," Kyle continued. "It makes you more thankful for what you got. I'd rather die living in the moment than live cautiously with regrets over the things I could've done. Hell, I might end up like those guys who hang themselves for angel lust."

Cloud took a deep swallow. Some part of him hated Kyle. The other half understood every word he said and couldn't deny how good this felt. He must've been sexually deprived for longer than he thought since his body reacted so willingly to Kyle's touches. The hot blood that flowed in his veins pumped faster. The air became heavier. It didn't help that Cloud's waking want was trapped within his trousers. This amplified any and all sensations he encountered. Cloud gripped the edge of the counter with both hands. He tried to breathe.

"See? This isn't so bad," Kyle murmured to him; his wicked hand still hidden under the counter. "…Is it?"

"You're a terrible man…" Cloud barely replied back, breathing heavily.

"Yeah. I can be a naughty boy," Kyle admitted. His pink painted nails slowly grazed the curved bulk along Cloud's thigh.

Cloud tried to keep a straight face, especially when the waiter briefly looked at their direction. He held his breath and stayed still. Those horrible, wonderful fingers didn't relent under the counter though. They worked their magic and followed along his length until they reached the tip. Exploring its blossomed shape, Cloud understood, without a doubt, why Kyle was the best man-whore on the streets. He had the gifted hands of an artist. It was likely the same for his mouth.

When the waiter turned away from him, Cloud blew out the air he had kept in. The top of his forehead felt damp. Staring at his lap now, he watched Kyle's fingers continue to grip him. The sight of the crude act stirred him. His erection twitched. Cloud licked his lips when the hand paused on his lap and drifted to the zipper of his pants.

"You can be naughty with me," Kyle whispered to Cloud as he undid the front of his trousers; the button and zipper. He carefully pulled out a hot mass of stiff flesh. "Let's be naughty together…"

Granted, the thought of experiencing this with Kyle or, for that matter, another boy at a public restaurant created a cluster of mixed feelings in Cloud. There were a few elders and children present. There was also the waiter who stared at them suspiciously from time to time. Receiving a hand job in public domain was wrong. He knew that. And yet, as Kyle pointed out, it was an adrenaline rush. From being with another guy to doing this at a restaurant in daylight, it held all the danger and excitement he secretly craved for in his mediocre life. It was bizarre. Horrific. And thrilling. For whatever reason, Cloud's mind conjured up a terrifying figure in black.

Do you feel this? Do you feel me?

It was around this time, the doors opened and a group of men in suits entered the Diner. Both Cloud and Kyle paused from their juvenile theatrics. They noted the abrupt silence that filtered into the restaurant. Only the jukebox kept playing. At the pool table, someone missed their shot.

The smell of expensive cologne and high-brand cigarette drifted from the five sharply-dressed men at the Diner's entrance. The one who led the group was a forty-something male with wavy, short brown hair. He maintained a well-kept beard along his jawline. A few wrinkles decorated his face. Black-glossed shoes clacked against the wooden flooring as he stepped forward.

Flanking his side was a younger male. With slender-shaped eyes and perfectly arched brows, the man sported Wutaian features. A diamond-shaped tilak was planted center of his forehead. The man's style was simple and conservative. His shoulder-length black hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. He kept close to the older male.

For the third man, he was young with short-cut, furious-red, spiked hair. A pair of slick black goggles held his stray bangs away from his face. Contrary to his companions, his posture was relaxed. He leaned on one leg while twirling a metal rod between two fingers. He accidentally smacked the side of a dark, bald-headed man directly beside him. Readjusting his sunglasses with gloved hands, the dark muscular man with a trimmed goatee gave off a grunt-like sound. He sneered at his red-haired companion.

Cloud caught sight of the last man in their group. Of them all, the teenager was intrigued with him the most. This man harbored a dark foreboding presence. His raven-black hair was cut into a short stylish and layered bob. A few strands covered half his face while the rest jutted out. His youthful profile suggested someone in their mid-twenties but his crimson eyes revealed an older man. Cloud noticed the arm sling on his left arm. An injury? The man remained silent as his party claimed seats at the counter.

"Mmm, Valentine…" Kyle practically purred and resumed stroking Cloud. "This is definitely a treat. Usually these guys hang out at the bar during their off hours. But from time to time they come here."

Cloud was just as surprised as Kyle was to see five members of the Turks at the Diner. They usually kept to themselves, away from the public eye. An organization of many secrets, citizens from the Plate and Slums alike feared them. And for good reason. With only a flip of their PHS they could make anyone in the planet disappear without a trace.

Cloud quietly grunted when Kyle's hand administrations intensified due to the skin-to-skin contact. He could feel the moist softness of his palm. With great labor, he asked, "…D-do you know them?"

"I know about them." Kyle looked at the oldest man in the group while his hand pumped Cloud's shaft under the counter. "They visit the Don a lot. See that guy there? The oldest one? He goes by the name Veld. He's the head of the Department of Administrative Research. You don't want to fuck with him."

"You mean he's the leader of the Turks?"

"Yep. That's him. Veld answers directly to the President." A pause. "…How's that feel?"

"A little harder…"

"…There?"

"Mm. Yeah… Yeah, just like that…"

"You have a nice size. It feels good in my hand." Kyle looked back at the Turks across the Diner. Calmly, he revealed, "The rest of those boys are Veld's handpicked people. He rolls with this group a lot."

Cloud struggled to focus on the scene ahead. He could faintly hear the soft fap-like sounds his warm prick made with each hard tug. A few drops of clear pre-cum juice erupted from a tiny slit. It dripped over Kyle's hand as he aggressively played with his cock. Cloud hissed when sticky fingers gripped him tighter. Thankfully, no one noticed the two teens fooling around at their corner spot. The jukebox music and nonstop diner chatter continued while everyone in the Diner focused on the Turks.

Licking his lips, Cloud paid attention to Veld again. Already seated, the high-ranked Turk removed a small stainless steel case from his coat's pocket. His fingers retrieved a cigarette from it. Next to him, the Wutai man already had a lighter out for him. He lit the nicotine stick.

"The one with the tilak on his forehead is Veld's right-hand man, Tseng," the street rat disclosed. "He's from Wutai. Man of many talents. He's a cold fish, I hear."

Tseng flipped the top of the lighter closed and slipped it into his jacket in two quick, smooth moves. He sat in silence. Any time his superior spoke he intently listened. Cloud had never seen anyone as frigid as this guy. Even in a relaxed environment like this, he was as responsive as a robot.

"The big-mouth there is Reno," Kyle notified when the red-haired Turk abruptly laughed from a joke. The Turk strayed from the group and took a spot at the pinball machine with the dark-skinned man. Kyle teased the slit of Cloud's flushed head with a finger and added, "Don't let his appearance fool you. He is as wild as he is unpredictable. One word from his boss and he'll split your head in half with a smile."

"And the other guy with him?" Cloud swallowed hard. "…F-fuck, you're good."

Kyle squeezed his stem. Then he turned to the bald-headed fellow Cloud addressed and answered, "He's Rude. He never takes off those damn, silly sunglasses. Not even at night. Rude and Reno are inseparable, like peanut butter and jelly."

Cloud breathed faster. His toes curled inside his shoes when Kyle's hand sped up again. Both sacs swelled and grew firm; bloated with hot seed. A dizzy, lightheaded sensation hit him. Cloud gripped the edge of the counter to keep his balance. With half-closed eyes, he watched the two Turks at the pinball machine while Kyle stroked him off faster.

Reno rapidly tapped the buttons of this game and hollered when he scored. Rude stood there like a wall. At the back of Cloud's mind, he wondered if this was the same Turk Biggs saw yesterday. There had been a Turk with sunglasses at a checkpoint shortly after the museum shooting. If Fuhito's claims were correct then there was a good chance these five Turks had seen the alleged 'monster'.

"And that one?" Cloud breathlessly asked, feeling his abdominal muscles contract. He kept his eyes on the man with a sling on his left arm. This Turk sat with Tseng and Veld but did not interact with any of them. "What's his story?"

"Vincent Valentine," Kyle informed with an adoring smile. "From what I hear, he was reinstated for active duty after being out of commissioned for a long time. I don't know all the details myself. But word on the vine is that he's close to the black-veiled man. He keeps close to him."

"Black-veiled man…" Cloud said slowly. A memory suddenly tugged in his head. As he struggled to dig it out of his fuzzy mind, he thrust his hips slightly forward to meet Kyle's hand strokes.

"I wonder if Valentine is his boyfriend?" Kyle wondered aloud. He briefly brought up his hand to spit on the palm. Then he resumed choking the life out of Cloud's cock. "That would be hot."

"Black-veiled man…" Cloud repeated, halfway lost in an impending climax.

"I'm kinda frustrated I missed the black-veiled man last night…" Kyle confessed. "I heard he was at a club. And I also heard this morning he has chosen his next client. Damn. I never got to see him."

Focused on his climax and a dim memory from last night, Cloud blocked out half of what Kyle said. He closed his eyes. Black-veiled man, he thought to himself again and again. Black-veiled man. Black-veil. Black. Black. Black… Cloud's brows furrowed. The memory was there. He could feel it throbbing at the back of his head, ready to burst out. But for the life of him, he couldn't get it out of him. In his mind he saw nothing but meshed black cloth and a shimmer of green hidden behind. He heard the sounds of a boy's giggle, followed by a deep and alluring voice. They called to him in unison. Cloud held his breath.

Run along, silly boy. This one's fire burns too brightly for you. You'll likely be scorched alive under his touch…

Next to him, Kyle noticed the desperate, hungry look on Cloud's face. The teen's body abruptly went tensed. Kyle drew closer to him and discretely placed both hands on him underneath the counter. He mentioned a few encouraging, profane words to Cloud. Then his hands pumped the rigid muscle faster and rougher until the swollen cock wobbled and squirted a long, thick string of white goop. It shot straight under the wooden counter. Two more lines of cum roughly hit the same area. Cloud bit deep into his bottom bruised lip. His body shuddered but he forced himself to stay in his seat.

"Fuck…" Cloud whispered, panting. When he opened his eyes halfway, his vision was unfocused.

"Admit it," Kyle said to him and gently massaged Cloud's spent tip with a palm, "it was a rush."

Trying to catch his breath, Cloud agreed with a half-hearted scoff. He couldn't deny it. It was the best damn climax he had experienced in a long time. And with a guy, no less. He flopped to one side and his head fell on Kyle's shoulders. Like a bolt that was no longer screwed on too tightly, Cloud felt looser now. He idly watched his cum drip down from the spots he hit. A faint memory of a black figure still circled inside his head but he was too spent and hungry to bother with it. Perhaps later, once his stomach was settled and his climax properly wore off, he could return to that strange thought.

Their waiter soon arrived with both meals. Kyle noticed the suspicious expression on the server's face and offered him an innocent smile. Then he took a few napkins from the dispenser after the waiter left and wiped off the semen between his fingers. Cloud did the same. He carefully cleaned his tip and the mess he made under the counter. Although he was still semi-hard, he managed to zip himself up.

"Maybe after this you can treat me to dessert," Kyle suggested with a clever smile on his face.

Cloud knew Kyle wasn't talking about sweet treats. He snickered at him. Then he grabbed his chopsticks and dived into his noodles.

Side-by-side, the two boys ate. It'd been too long since he had a good meal that Cloud immediately ordered a second bowl after the first was quickly consumed. Once in a while, Kyle struck up a random conversation. Most of it revolved around his clients. The good. The bad. And the downright ugly. Cloud listened for the most part but kept his eyes on the Turk called Valentine.

By now, the men in suits received their food and ate at the counter on the other side. Cloud noticed that Valentine never looked up from his bowl. Even while his group chatted amongst themselves, he and Tseng kept quiet. Cloud couldn't help but note the peculiar shine in the Turk's red eyes. In a way, they reminded Cloud of other strange eyes he came across. The memory of it though was a blur. Cloud continued to study Vincent Valentine from where he sat until Reno, a few seats away from Valentine, looked up and noticed him. The red-haired Turk made eye contact with Cloud. Then he stood from his seat and walked toward his direction. The dark-skinned Turk followed suit.

Immediately, Cloud glanced down at his bowl and regretted staring at Valentine. It was never a good idea to look at a Turk. People got shot that way. He overheard Reno whistle along with the jukebox's tune as he approached. One hand was dipped in his coat's pocket while the other twirled a metal rod. His step was in perfect synch with the song.

Cloud held his breath when Kyle suddenly stopped eating. He muttered a curse word, clearly alerted by the new arrivals too. A second later, Reno stopped next to them. Rude was only a few feet away. The red-haired Turk leaned his hip against the counter and looked down at the teens. He directed his attention to the one with wild, choppy blond hair.

"Yo, you work at Chocobo Chow. Right?" the Turk asked out-of-the-blue.

At first, Cloud refused to look up from his bowl. He still wanted to believe the Turk came for someone else. Silence followed, though, and a looming sense of being watched forced him to look up. Sure enough, eyes the color of green-blue stared at him. Cloud forced his mouth to work. "I work there…"

"Down at Twenty-First Street?"

Cloud felt his blood go cold. There were over thirty Chocobo Chow restaurants littered across Midgar City. This Turk somehow knew which one he worked at. Wearily, the boy confirmed, "Yea…"

The Turk grinned. The red linear tattoos stenciled on his cheeks stretched wide. "Thought I recognized ya. Yo, you work with Elena."

That last remark was more of a fact than a question. At first, Cloud cocked his head to one side; puzzled. It took him a moment to realize who he was talking about: Ele'. She rarely went by Elena. Cloud slowly nodded his head and disclosed, "I work with her, yes. But she goes by Ele'."

For some reason, that made the Turk laugh out loud. He playfully whacked his rod on his partner's arm. The bald-headed Turk beside him grinned. Something about Reno's cocky voice and stature annoyed Cloud. He was tempted to roll his eyes. Only a few seconds of conversation and he already didn't like this guy. Next to him, Kyle shared a similar frown. He slowly drank his bubble tea. Reno finally stopped laughing. He addressed Cloud again with the same goofy grin on his face.

"Do me a favor, Chocobo," Reno demanded, "Send the word: I wanna talk to Elena. It's important."

Cloud stared at him.

"It's premium, top-class shit, yo. Send the word. Feel me? Can you do that, Chocobo?"

Cloud's half-slit eyes stayed on the Turk. He absolutely hated that name. He was not a Chocobo.

"There a problem?" Reno paused. After no response, he glanced at his partner. "Yo, Rude. Y' think if I feed this kid a few Carob nuts and a Zeio he'll talk? Maybe breed me one of those crazy-ass, rare Gold Chocobos too?"

The two Turks snickered together. Cloud clenched his hands into tight fists on the counter. He was one step away from getting to his feet and punching this creep. It didn't matter if he was a Turk.

"So ya gonna talk to Elena for me or what, Chocobo?" Reno pressed again and crossed his arms.

"My name is Cloud," the boy corrected through gritted teeth, "And if you want to talk to Ele' then tell her yourself, Ginger."

Kyle nearly choked in his soup and looked up at Cloud. A waitress in the middle of passing someone their dish stopped in her tracks. A few diners shared similar ghostly, wide-eyed expressions. They all stared at Cloud as if he were a dead man. On the jukebox a song about a bad moon rising played.

Reno stood still. Cloud's bold choice of words and snarky attitude was not lost on him or his partner. Cloud could already sense the other Turks look his way. From across the counter, the one named Valentine finally raised his head up from his bowl of noodles. There was an unreadable look on his face.

Way to go, asshole, Cloud told himself. He knew he should've stayed home on his birthday. If he hadn't gone to the club he wouldn't have gotten dead drunk. If he hadn't gotten drunk he wouldn't have ended up at Jessie's place. If he hadn't ended up at Jessie's place he wouldn't have entered Wall Market with her. If he hadn't entered Wall Market he wouldn't have dined at the Diner. And if he hadn't dined at the Diner he wouldn't be here with a gang of Turks sizing him up. Fuck. His. Life.

"H-heh, you have to excuse him," Kyle suddenly spoke and addressed Reno. He cleared his throat. "My friend here, uh, had a very crazy birthday party last night. He got plastered. He fucking blacked out. Can you believe that? It was that kinda wild party." He chuckled. Then he placed a hand over one of Cloud's clenched fists and added, "Unfortunately, he is still working off the alcohol in his system. Please. Pay him no mind." Kyle dug two cards out from a pocket. It was a one-year membership to Honey Bee Inn. "For you and a friend, Reno. Give the receptionist my name. They'll treat you to the best ladies there."

Reno stared at Don Corneo's hired boy. He slowly accepted the two cards. The tone in his voice sounded less upbeat when he inquired, "A friend of yours, eh, Nunchaku? Legit, yo?"

The street rat pulled Cloud to him in a tight and inescapable hug. To everyone else, it was a bonding gesture. But to Cloud, it was Kyle's way of keeping him put. Kyle didn't want him to do anything stupid. Like pounce and strangle the Turk with his bare hands.

Kyle offered the Turk a sweet smile. "Cloud is the best."

Reno looked back and forth between Kyle and Cloud. The corners of his mouth eventually curved into an easy smile. He brusquely nodded his head. "Cool. No foul then. I hope your boy learns to hold his drink better next time. And to hold his tongue. I would hate for it to go missin'. Y' feel me, right?"

"I understand. I'll gag him with one of my toys next time."

Reno laughed at the crude joke. He pushed away from the counter and took a step back, preparing to return to his party. As he shoved the cards in his pocket, he told Kyle, "I'm hopin' you wise up some day, Nunchaku. Leave that blob you call a boss. Roll with us. We could use someone like you in our crew."

"What? And miss out on all the hot bunnies? Puh-lease. The Don treats me right."

"The Don's an idiot," Reno stated as matter-of-fact. He returned his attention to Cloud. "And as for you…" He pointed his index finger at him and held up his thumb, as if it were a trigger. "…Bam."

Reno chuckled at the playful, yet warning gesture. Cloud did not budge in his seat. If Kyle hadn't held him down he'd smash the Turk's teeth right in at this very moment. Reno and Rude gave him one more glance over. Cloud refused to waver or look away. With a glint in his eyes, Reno stuck his tongue out and showed a spiked metal piercing. Then he snapped his fingers to Rude only once and, like that, both left.

"Nicely done, man," Kyle mumbled sarcastically and exhaled slowly. "Nearly getting yourself killed by a Turk in daylight requires a special kind of talent. I couldn't have done it better myself." Loudly, Kyle slurped up his bubble tea.

Cloud stabbed a piece of meat with his chopstick. "He was being an asshole."

"Yeah, and so?" Kyle dismissed. "Sure, Reno can be an asshole. But I also warned you he's a dangerous asshole; the type of hot-head you don't want to fuck with. Reputation is everything to Reno. If he sees anyone disrespecting him or his crew he'll make an example of him."

"Whatever," Cloud sneered back.

Kyle sat still for a second. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but are you being completely stupid or completely reckless when you say that? I can't tell."

"Pick one."

"Gods. You're a royal pain in the ass sometimes, Cloud…"

The two finished their meals in silence. While Cloud felt guilty for putting Kyle in an awkward and dangerous situation, he was too pissed to express an apology or gratitude for his intervention. Kyle thankfully didn't press on the matter. He gave him his space.

As they later paid for their respective meals, Cloud was glad the Turks hadn't finished their plates and would stay behind a little longer. The matter between them had already been settled. Nonetheless, he sensed someone watching him. Surprisingly, it wasn't Reno stalking him with a venom-like gaze this time. It was a silent Vincent Valentine. He'd been keeping a good eye on him since the confrontation. His crimson eyes trailed after him, even after Cloud and Kyle headed out of the Diner.

"Heading to class now?" Kyle asked as they walked down a path.

"Not yet. I'm gonna drop by my place to feed the dog, shower, and change."

"How exciting," Kyle remarked in a neutral-toned voice. "Don't forget to scrub the toilet and take out the trash after you've properly filed your taxes. You're living the life, Cloud."

"Yeah, the life of a mob boss's henchman is soooo much better, I bet," he snapped back.

"I prefer the term, faithful subordinate, thank-you-very-much." Kyle produced an exaggerated pout. "Anyway. Here, asshole. Maybe this will brighten up your day and help you to play nice with the kids next time." Kyle dug out a bag of grass from a pocket. He shoved it inside Cloud's coat. "Free of charge. Use it. I command it. I swear you take yourself too seriously sometimes."

"Says the man who butt-fucks every man in the block without a care in the world." Cloud glanced into his pocket and was pleasantly surprised by the amount given him. It would last him a week.

"Damn right I do," Kyle happily agreed and removed a ready-made joint from his person. As he lit it with a lighter, he said, "With you almost getting yourself killed back there, you could use a good butt-fuck."

"Whatever."

"Mm, there goes that dreadful whatever again… Is that like your default answer for everything?" Kyle took a deep puff of his joint. He allowed the smoke to gather in his lungs before he blew out. "Seriously, man, you need to be more careful. You've been here long enough to know that certain lines can't be crossed. Especially with the Turks. I might not be there next time to help you."

"That's fine. I never asked for a babysitter. I can take care of myself."

"Maybe so. But I'll sleep better at night if you watch yourself and play it cool. The underworld is a very unforgiving place." Kyle gazed ahead and observed mountains of trash in the distance. "You can't pick apart the discarded dead bodies from the junk here. There's just too much of it."

Cloud shoved both hands into his coat's pockets and kept his eyes on the ground. He knew Kyle was right. If he pushed the wrong buttons and ended up dead, no one would distinguish his corpse from the countless piles of dirty baby diapers, needles, and trash bags. It was a terrible way to go.

Cloud looked at Kyle. "I get what you're saying. I do. I'll watch my temper next time. It's just…" He paused and gritted his teeth together. "I'm not going to be anyone's pushover. If I can't stand up for myself then what good am I to the Tsviets? Or anyone, for that matter?"

Kyle sucked in more smoke and didn't have a response. Soon, the two boys passed an items shop and cut through a dark alleyway. Rippled posters of LOVELESS hung along the makeshift walls that advertised show times. There were beer bottles and food wrappers scattered everywhere. Cloud looked out for glass and watched his step. When they reached deeper into the alleyway Kyle spoke again.

"You know… I never heard anyone call Reno a Ginger before," he confessed. A smile emerged from Kyle's face. "That was actually funny."

"Trust me: I wasn't trying to break any records." The tension in the air seemed to lift with those words, especially when Kyle playfully jabbed him on the arm soon afterward. Cloud winced and rubbed his arm with a hand, still feeling sore from his wounds. Quietly, he said, "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

"For helping me at the Diner," Cloud clarified, "You didn't have to do that."

"Yeah, I did. I know you would've done the same for me."

"But I put you in an awkward position."

Kyle abruptly snorted and passed Cloud his joint in good spirits. "Damn, boy. You should know by now: awkward positions are my favorite. And speaking of which…"

There was a light in his eyes, a terrible light that Cloud recognized as mischievous. Bad things happened whenever Kyle gave him that look. Sure enough, Kyle stopped in the middle of the alleyway. He checked both ends of the narrow path. Cloud was about to ask him what was wrong until the other boy placed a hand on his chest. Kyle gently shoved him against a wall. Realization dawned on Cloud too late. He stood in silence as the boy placed his hands at the helm of his trousers. Fingers worked the button.

"What the hell…?" Cloud started. "W-what are you doing?"

"As I can recall," Kyle calmly explained, "I wanted dessert. Seeing as how I just saved your life and all..." He pulled down the zipper with one swift move. "…You owe me."

"Hold on… w-wait a minute."

"Don't be such a baby," Kyle teased and went on his knees. He took Cloud's warm member in his hands and stared at it. "You know, I've never had Nibelheim cream pie before. Does it taste sweet or mild?"

"You're gross…" Cloud pointed out but had trouble sustaining his voice.

"I'm all sorts of wrong, aren't I?" Kyle wrapped his hands around the tender muscle and pulled on it.

Cloud inhaled sharply. He nearly dropped the joint between his fingers. Pressing his back against the wall, tension built at the lower regions of his body with each stroke. His eager member stretched out and reached full potential again. Already, the engorged tip oozed with drops of pre-cum. The boy below placed a wet kiss on a very moist spot. Then another. And another. Kyle's tongue teased at the slick miniscule opening. Cloud sucked on his lower lip and idly noticed a torn LOVELESS poster across him. A Goddess-like figure stared back at him. Her cold green eyes, familiar to him somehow, bore into him.

"She guides us to bliss," Cloud faintly whispered, "…her gift everlasting." He sighed when his entire length suddenly became engulfed by glossy heat.

As Kyle suckled him, the image of an impressive-sized cock projected in Cloud's head. It was long, thick, and pale pink. Circumcised. A notable vein budged along its side. Cloud absently licked his lips. He didn't know why this image came to him or why it awakened a deep, primal want. His fingers clung to the locks of golden hair below. While the head between his legs continuously bobbed in a smooth circular motion, Cloud pictured the pale perfect cock in his mind again. He imagined himself tracing its vein with his tongue. Other absurd actions followed; other things he wanted to do with it. The sucking sounds grew louder. Lost in this cycle of euphoria, Cloud closed his eyes and shoved himself into the wet crevice. His hips repeatedly thrust in and out.

He never noticed the pair of red eyes glowing from a distance.