Trapdoor (Part 4)

by anza (10.11.05)

He was about to call it a night when Kadaj stepped forth from the shadows. "Welcome back," he said, voice uncharacteristically soft. Cloud could just make out the sheen of his hair, the bridge of his nose and the curve of his cheek. He was dressed in his pajamas. With a vicious slice, Cloud cut off that thought right where it started. He stepped back from the hidden door before him. No, he would not fall into that trapdoor! He would do ANYTHING before he fell into that pitfall!

"Thanks," Cloud murmured in return. Like always, he put his coat on the couch and Kadaj took it to his room. Like always he set his helmet on the coffee table, and his gloves on top of it. By the time he was done drinking his customary cup of water straight from the tap, Kadaj was there with him again, looking a little lost and lonely in the openness of the kitchen.

"Nii-san, are you mad at me?" Like always, Cloud forgot how sensitive the youngest was.

He washed the cup out of habit, turning away from the brother and the question all at once. "You should be asleep by now."

There was a shuffle-step closer. The line in Cloud's shoulders tensed. He set the cup controlledly into the drying rack, but didn't turn around. It was like something out of the movies, he related weirdly, except he wasn't an actor and Kadaj wasn't an actress. He just didn't want to see him right now, didn't want to see him there with his eyes shining with worry and concern and such love. In the same heartbeat, he didn't want to break Kadaj's trust for all the treasures of the world, and he wished he could throw it away like it was nothing. The knife in his chest twisted. The trapdoor was right behind him, right under Kadaj's feet. Didn't his youngest brother see it too?

He wanted to protect Kadaj. "I'm not mad," he said at last, and turned to look at Kadaj.

His brother was undeniably pretty in the sense that a man could be pretty. Vincent had been pretty too, but Kadaj was delicate in a way that Vincent had been threatening in height and concentration. Kadaj could change faces in the blink of an eye, could turn a subtle gesture into an art and a simple act into a sexual invitation. Often Cloud thought he didn't know how attractive he was. Yet, with three protective older brothers, no one dared to touch Kadaj wrongly. Cloud knew if anything happened, Kadaj would let him know.

Without meaning to, he reached out to smooth Kadaj's silk-fine hair. It felt so soft and smooth that unwittingly he relaxed. Those eyes were staring back at him again, reflecting only himself in those starry pools. Cloud was hurt; there was no other word he could use to describe himself in that moment. He was so heartbroken in the future silence of that house when he came back and nobody was home. So many years raising them, all of them. Kadaj was the last. After him, there would be no more silver-haired geniuses to bother him.

With the prime exception of Sephiroth. Sporadically.

His lips pulled themselves upward unwillingly. "Work's been hard," he tried to explain. "My secretary called in sick, so I spent the entire day filing paperwork like a rabid clerk. And then the President calls and tells me he didn't receive confirmation of the dishwasher orders, so when I went back to check I found they were all wrong. At least you guys cooked dinner, and didn't blow anything up in Tifa's face. She said she had a great time -"

The touch on his arm stopped him. The trapdoor inched closer, and Cloud felt the hyper-sharp blade of danger. One part of him whispered for him to step into that trapdoor, drag Kadaj there, so that when both of them emerged again, they would burn so brightly together in the sunlight. With every touch, with every look, he was twisting away, not wanting to look but eyes unable to tear themselves away, not wanting to touch but hands unable to let go. His feelings were all splashed together, a mismatched collage of pictures and emotions and memories of little things and big fights and sitting in front of the television, eating meals together, snowboarding in the mountains, winning round after round of poker...

These things revolved around his head until he could hardly think. They had spent six years together. It was too much. He turned away. In facing the loneliness of his future, he didn't want to go out with a glorious bang. He just wanted to rest, sleep away the rest of his life without a thought, without a memory.

"Nii-san," came the question through the fog of his turmoil. "Nii-san, are you alright?"

What an innocent question. But with Kadaj, who knows what he really means? In one impulse moment, Cloud slid his hand to the back of Kadaj's head and brought it forward towards. Insanity in one blood-rushing moment raced to his head and filled it with promises. The trapdoor was open so wide, surely they would never make it back out even if they crossed that threshold with both hearts and minds set on coming back out. No, yes, no, yessss...

He pressed his lips briefly to Kadaj's forehead and then ruffled his silver bangs. "You go to sleep," he admonished, and the perfect moment was over, shattered into a million brilliant pieces of hope and joy and all things desire. Regret burned in his heart for one fierce moment, and then it, too, turned to smoke. As Kadaj went up the stairs, the trapdoor finally moved completely out of sight.