Trapdoor (Part 8)

by anza (28.11.05)

"Hush," Kadaj said against his lips.

They were stuck, of all places, in a broom closet. Cloud had come to school because Kadaj had been caught spreading cellophane over the toilets. The girls' bathroom toilets. As always, the principal was most displeased. Cloud was even more displeased, because Kadaj had apparently been caught with his - not "guyfriend", as Cloud liked to call it, but "gayfriend".

It was mean, and maybe he really did liked Kadaj, but Cloud sure as hell wasn't allowing anyone to drug his baby brother after THAT little incident.

He hadn't talked to Kadaj about it. The next day Kadaj had woken up in the hospital, Cloud had stuffed a pastry and a coffee at him and told him to eat breakfast fast because he had school in approximately three minutes and if he was planning to get a ride on Cloud's bike, he'd better hurry up. He'd slammed the hospital door behind him, partly for dramatic effect and partly because he didn't want any new dreams. Imagining Kadaj's blissful face was torture enough.

And now he was smothered against said brother-and-halfway-lust-interest in a broom closet. Great. Fucking great, as Cid might describe it. He tried to imagine Tifa's pissed off face if she caught them in such a trysting position, and succeeded admirably. He tried to image Sephiroth angry and succeeded in that too. And then he tried to imagine Vincent pissed off, and...couldn't. He could remember other things about Vincent, though: how his eyes crinkled up in laughter even though his mouth wasn't smiling, how those pale spider-fingers brought blazing sound forth from his guitar, how he bent almost double over the company desk that was too small for him. Cloud remembered once he'd gone in and massaged his shoulders, and Vincent had leaned back into his hands that loosened the knots in his back. Vincent, eyes flashing different colors in happiness and anger. Vincent, traveling halfway around the world just to escape Cloud and the truth that Cloud loved something more than Vincent: his work.

"They'll be good for you," Vincent's voice rang in his head. He was talking about the three little wide-eyed boys that had been plopped onto his doorstep. Privately Cloud disagreed; Loz had been fifteen when he came to Cloud. That was already well into teenagerdom.

His throat was filling up with some sort of bitter emotion that he couldn't name. That is, until Kadaj whispered it in the dark. "I hope you know I'm not regretting that prank, nii-san." He could see the half-moon smile in the dark, as little comfort as it gave him now.

Vincent.

"Let's get out of here," he murmured, and they opened the door together. Like a gunshot they split in opposite directions, like kids in a hedge maze, until they met at Cloud's bike.

----------

"So that's where it was," Kadaj sighed. Together they hefted the bike from the back alley ("I'm surprised it wasn't stolen," Cloud commented, "It wasn't locked or anything...". "They probably saw your face and decided it wasn't worth risking the wrath of a pretty boy, nii-san." Cloud would have whacked him for that, if Kadaj hadn't skipped farther into the alley) to the street where Kadaj would be able to ride it home. In a misstep Cloud slipped on a caved-in soda can, and the bike's balance lurched crazily. Straightening with a huff, they continued out, the bleak winter sunlight filtering down, turning Kadaj's hair a dull silver.

"Do you remember anything about it?" As always, Cloud had to ask.

"I remember saying, 'I love you' to someone...". Kadaj's voice faded. "Nah. That was probably my imagination. Who would I tell that too anyway?" He shook his head with a foolish little smile that made Cloud look away, the emotion in his throat had suddenly heated, melting like the state of his heart.

Numbly he nodded in accordance.