Counterclockwise
Chapter 07
Words: 7 617
Genre: Comedy/Romance (Fluff)
Pairing(s): Eventual Leon x Cloud
Notes: AU highschool!fic. Leon will hereon be referred to as Squall. :D
Disclaimer: Inspired by Gosho Aoyama's Conan, as well as Staryday's fic, Child Again.
Warnings: A little swearing, a whole lot of... cute :D;;
Rated: R
Squall kept blinking the drowsiness out of his eyes.
The boy was sitting quietly at the dining table; his crossed arms tucked underneath his chin as he locked his ankles together and gently swung his feet back and forth. Quietly, his hazy eyes focused and unfocused on the back of the person who was at the stove in the kitchen through his droopy eyelids. Squall let out a soft sigh, nestling the side of his face into his arms and letting out a small yawn.
After the entire episode with Zack and the other children only hours before, Cloud and Squall had been left feeling completely sapped of energy and had spent the rest of their time together in a rather atypical silence. Squall had been running through his newfound perusals and feelings over and over again. It left him with quite an amount to ponder, what with the additional mysteries he had yet to solve that concerned the blond teenager and Cid and whatnot.
On the other hand, Cloud, so he suspected, seemed to be more caught in less trivial thoughts. There was an odd resignation about him, about the way he had started to carry himself with after that final exchange with Zack.
Squall had his own theories as to what Zack and Cloud had been discussing. It most definitely concerned him, and from what he could conclude, it probably had involved Cloud sending him away. But Cloud had decided not to.
Squall sighed softly again, closing his eyes, brows knitting together with slight displeasure. He didn't want to think about Zack at the moment. He didn't want to think about Denzel, and Seifer, and Marlene. Picturing their faces was already enough to make the beginnings of a headache pick at his brain.
The boy's eyes fluttered, staring at a blurry spot some distance away on the dining table as his gaze averted.
He had felt so tired, but for some strange reason, he hadn't been able to sleep. Half an hour had passed after Cloud's mum had tucked him in, and he had still been awake, tossing and turning on the bed that had suddenly seemed lumpy and hard. Before long, the shadows in his room had started to scare him like before, only this time, he hadn't given in completely to the childish urge of his body to hide under the covers and cry a little. No, instead, before he knew what was happening, Squall had thrown the blankets off and stalked down the corridor.
To Cloud's room.
The teenager had been standing by his bed, pyjama pants clinging loosely to his waist as he buttoned up the faded top. The slight creaking of his bedroom door had notified the teen of a little late night visitor, and sure enough, when he noticed Squall peeking at him meekly from the other side of the door, Cloud had allowed a small, amused, yet slightly tired smile to pull briefly at his lips before walking over to the boy, squatting down in front of him and asking him, softly, if he was having trouble sleeping.
After a timid nod on the young brunet's behalf, Cloud had swept him into his arms, fingers briefly brushing against the sterile tourniquet wrapped firmly around his head before carrying him to the kitchen and gently setting him down on a chair at the table.
For some strange reason, the warmth of Cloud's body heat from when he had been carried moments before had started to lull him slightly. Settling down as comfortably as possible, Squall allowed his eyes to slip closed and tried to nudge himself along to sleep; something he had been unable to do for the past. . . Squall squinted briefly at the wall clock and did some rough calculations. . . hour and a half.
He hummed softly, hoping that it would somehow aid in his victory against the sandman. His eyes fluttered shut once again, the quiet, melodious sound pouring from his lips half-muffled by the pressing of his cheeks against his forearms. It was a slow, ballad-like song. Squall couldn't, for the life of him, remember what in particular he was humming, but all he knew was that he had somehow gotten it from his dad who used to sing him to sleep with this song. And he liked it. A lot.
There was a soft thud, and something warm descended on his back, rubbing slightly. Cloud was leaning over him, murmuring softly, coaxing him to sit up. With a tired sigh, Squall forced his eyes open and leaned back in his seat, clenching and unclenching his fists in order to regain feeling in both his arms before he scrubbed his eyes with the heel of a palm. Cloud smiled softly at that, sliding the warm mug closer towards the boy.
Lightly, Squall gripped it with both hands, bringing it to his lips and letting the tepid drink roll down his throat indolently, bringing along with it the waves of tranquil rest. His eyelids began to droop a little heavier, and his mind was starting to grow pleasantly hazy. Groggily, he barely registered the loss of warmth from his dainty fingers as the blond picked the mug out of his grip, wrapping his strong arms around Squall's tiny body and pressing the boy close to his chest as he carried him steadily.
Squall sighed softly in what may have been contentment. Cloud heard it, tilting his head to a side and resting it tentatively on Squall's head as he rocked the boy back and forth for a moment, swaying him to sleep, a minute smile on his face. Squall's fingers curled around the fabric of Cloud's pyjama top, clenching it tightly and refusing to let go.
Cloud's muffled footfalls resonated softly through the quiet house, his mouth by Squall's ear, his quiet breathing soothing the child as a patch on the blond's shoulder grew warm with each puff of air from the boy before growing chilly once again. Squall's head lolled to the side, moving closer against the blond's neck and nuzzling it slightly.
Cloud chuckled in quiet mirth, resting his hand on the doorknob of the guest room that had been prepared for Squall. He stepped inside lightly, approaching the messed up bed, and gently attempted to pry the boy from his neck. To no avail, as Squall simply refused to release the teenager.
At a loss, Cloud pressed his lips together for a moment in contemplation, eyes glancing between the boy and the bed that was soaked in moonlight that streamed in past the curtains that didn't quite cover the windows. The soft light illuminated the young boy's face, down to the plump roundedness of his right cheek that was pressed against his upper arm and his slightly parted lips that whistled silently with each intake of breath. His long lashes fluttered slightly, leaning into the teenager.
With a resigned sigh, Cloud retreated and closed the door behind him firmly, walking down the chilly passage.
Squall stirred a little when he felt a weight descending onto his stomach as his back hit something soft and flat. With a slight groan, he opened his eyes, gaze bleary, turning to shift onto his right side. After momentarily allowing his vision to come into focus, he eventually managed to make out the line of Cloud's nose down to his full lips through the slight darkness that clouded the room.
Blinking slightly, Squall squinted, recognizing Cloud's telltale spikes and his fair patches of freckles that were illuminated by the stifled light from outside. A strong arm had been wound around Squall's small body, the boy's head settled onto an age-worn pillow as Cloud breathed puffs of air that gently tickled Squall's brow.
Cloud looked so serene, completely unbridled by the weight of the world. Squall closed his eyes briefly, the image of Cloud unconscious from exhaustion flickering into his mind from those nights ago in the kitchen when he had first met Cloud's mother. He had noticed this guiltless expression of pure contentment and rest gracing the blond's face then, but had been too taken with his mum – with a mum – to have paid it any great care.
Without thinking, Squall had already reached his left hand out, fingertips brushing the warm skin of Cloud's forehead, gently tracing the curve of his jaw downwards towards his lips. He pressed his palm flat against Cloud's cheek, a thumb stroking the corner of his mouth gently, as if to actually physically feel the light smile that had unconsciously illuminated Cloud's face.
Squall's eyelashes hooded his eyes, and his hand slid lower, fingers hooking around Cloud's nape and hand resting against the crook of the blond's neck.
His father used to cuddle him in bed, too; a long time ago when he had once believed in the bogeyman and ghosts haunting the closet after sunrise. His dad would wrap him up in bundles of blankets and wrap his arms tightly around his body, nuzzling his cheek with his stubbly chin to elicit a slight cry of indignation from him even though he actually secretly liked it. Once he had settled down, Laguna would tell him to close his eyes as he pulled the blankets over them, and rock him to sleep with a lullaby.
He had a feeling that Laguna knew that he liked those fatherly gestures though he pretended to hate them under the pretence of being mature. However, he was grateful that his dad kept nuzzling and singing to him, even if he had always protested rather avidly.
His mother had died at childbirth, when he had been born. He had been a little frail as a baby due to the medical conditions surrounding his birth that eventually led to his mother's death, but otherwise, he grew up stably. Due to his frailty as an infant, he was always a little more pale, always a little more girlish, always a little more scraggly than the other children.
He couldn't take the constant looks of pity and sympathy from his neighbours, or the sneers and teasing from the other kids because he was not enough like a normal, healthy boy. He was tired of the constant whispers surrounding him, his mother's death, and the relationship between his parents. He hated that people kept equating his current condition with the circumstances surrounding his father and mother before his birth.
His father suffered greatly. He could tell. He had seen it with his very own eyes. Despite the fact that Laguna was always strong and jovial and righteous for his one and only son, he knew from the very start that Laguna endured agonizing pain each time he walked through the streets and looked at the face of the boy that had caused the death of the woman he loved.
Everyone had always said that they saw so much of her in him, in Leon. In his face and hair colour and eyes. He treasured those words with every ounce of his being because it connected himself with his mother even beyond her death. But even so, he felt his life slipping away through his fingertips and decided that it was time he stopped being the little boy who loved playing with puppies and pouncing on his father as he walked through the door. He stopped being a mere child who loved eating a variety of sweetmeats and stopped believing in Santa and fairies and dragons and princes and monsters and ghosts and dreams.
He threw away his childhood on that one day, and forced himself to be an adult.
With a small sigh, Squall's eyes fluttered slightly, the boy leaning forward and tucking his head under Cloud's chin. He withdrew his hand from the blond's neck and instead wrapped it around Cloud's own, squeezing it briefly before pulling it to his chest and finally closing his eyes.
Squall knew that he had changed.
Ever since he had accidentally drank that potion, ever since he had gotten sick under Yuffie's clumsy care, ever since his staying with Cloud Strife, everything had changed. He couldn't be Leon anymore. He couldn't talk to his peers with the same measure of respect anymore. His body was fast overtaking his mind, his spirit forced to succumb to every childish whim that surfaced within this immature and young body. Hunger pangs, inexplicable fears, irregular energy levels – everything was different now.
Squall couldn't recall the last time so many things had happened at once.
He had lost track of the days since everything had begun. Like this silly name, this farce that he was made to hide behind, a whirlwind, a sheer tempest had engulfed every preconception and logical notion that he owned and had flicked on a switch to spit everything up into the air just so that it would all be turned upside down. It hadn't even spanned a full two weeks and already, everything that he had ever clung securely to had left him out in the cold.
Whatever happened to being a mature, grown up adult?
When was the last time he had ever played tag with others, or poked someone repeatedly out of boredom, or constantly asked to be picked up so that he would be carried around like a. . . a child? He was being pampered front, back and centre by everyone he had come to know, and. . . he loved it.
This was everything he had thrown away for the sake of. . .
But wait. Why had he even thrown it all away in the beginning? To prove himself? To start from scratch and take another shot at living his life?
Squall, no, Leon had never believed in fate. But, was. . . was God giving him a second chance to relive his childhood? To retrieve the remnants of everything he had trashed?
But why?
Why would he need to do something like that? For what purpose was he masquerading as a child? What significance could be found from reliving the past in the present?
Thus far, the only good things that he could somewhat understand were Cloud and his mother. Cloud, for all his misgivings, was like no other person that Squall could even begin to describe. Being with him had opened new doors, new worlds to his sheltered pessimism, and nothing else but good had come from getting to know Cloud for Cloud. Discarding all knowledge or acknowledgement of this inexplicable experience would mean letting go of everything he had begun to understand, being with Cloud. And that was something he would never do, not even under threat of death or anything of the sort.
But even then, he couldn't even begin to dream up the pitiful excuse of mere 'coincidence'. There had to be something more; something deeper and more reasonable behind everything that had taken place.
And through it all, Squall felt some measure of. . . of fear. Fear that he would never understand the reasons, or that the potion would lose its potency and poison him instead, or that he would be found out and thrown out the door, or that he would never change.
But most importantly of all, he felt fear that he didn't mind not needing to change back.
Squall knew that he had changed.
In his sleep, Cloud unconsciously tightened his grip around Squall's fingers. The boy squeezed back.
But he didn't know if it was right.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you, sweetheart?"
Squall looked up at the blond woman who was stroking his hair gently, smiling in her sweet way. She beamed at him, making him shoot her a sleep-induced grin, for he was still drowsy, but he didn't mind being awake if she was going to keep doing that. Her long blond hair wasn't in its usual braid, flowing smoothly over her shoulders and framing her lovely face.
She still looked exhausted, as though her energy was being sapped away from her continuously, but it seemed as though she was. . . brimming with happiness. When she spoke, her voice was soft and quiet, and with good reason too.
"You guys had a sleep over, huh? Looked like fun," she said with a hint of a grin, gently brushing away a lock of hair that covered Squall's brow. Her voice was muted now, expression glazed over a touch and gaze a mild pool of comfort as her expression softened.
"You're both close, aren't you?"
Squall didn't know what to say, the words refusing to form on the tip of his tongue. He raised himself slightly, squirming as Cloud's hand slid from around his chest down to his lap as the boy attempted to sit up. Before he could do so fully, however, Cloud's mother already had a hand to his chest, pushing him back down onto the bed. He looked up at her, blinking in slight confusion.
She pressed a finger to her lips, smiling sweetly once again.
"You don't have to get up sweetie. Just stay in bed. And try not to wake Cloud up too, okay? He's been going through a rough patch and deserves a lie-in this time around. I'm going to make breakfast. Do you want anything, honey?" she asked quietly, bending over to brush away his bangs, pressing a light peck to his forehead that caused him to blush heatedly.
"Can we have. . . waffles?" he asked conspiratorially in hushed tones, glancing sideways at Cloud's slumbering face as the teenager shifted in his sleep. Cloud let out a sleepy grunt of protest, his lips twisting into a slight frown as his fine brows knitted together. He rolled onto his stomach, the arm draped lazily across Squall's lap hooking around his waist and enveloping the boy in a hug. Mrs. Strife paused a moment, taking the scene in before letting out a quiet laugh, kissing Squall's forehead again and tapping his nose. He beamed timidly, flushing.
"Of course, dear. You go back to sleep now."
She tucked him in, waving a little before leaving. The door shut behind her firmly with a slight click, and her quiet footsteps padded away until the sound disappeared altogether.
Squall settled in bed, and as luck would have it, was unable to fall asleep once again. It had always been this way, and it didn't seem like it would change anytime soon. Instead, he pushed himself off his back and back onto his side, peering curiously at Cloud's face that was half-buried in his pillow.
The gentle rising and falling of Cloud's body was comfort to an extent. Squall, having been pulled closer to the teenager in his sleep, was pressed against the side of the blond's body, his nose grazing the tip of Cloud's own. Squirming a little, the boy managed to loosen the grip of Cloud's arm that had been wrung around his body and managed to nestle under the covers once again, getting comfortable.
Soon enough, Squall's wandering fingers had submitted into temptation and had finally, with some measure of reluctance, pried forward and tugged gently on a stray spike of Cloud's golden hair. Cloud's hair had always fascinated him but he had always refrained himself from playing with or touching it out of sheer courtesy.
His hair was soft. Really soft. It was so strange to see someone with hair so naturally spiky, and Squall couldn't help but rake his fingers through Cloud's hair. He had always thought that the teenagers would feel oily, or matted, or perhaps a little hard due to gel or something of the like, but. . . it was like regular hair. Just spiked together naturally. Squall wondered if it was a result of constant spiking with hair cream or something as a child that finally brought on the natural state of spikiness, but Squall was completely enamoured with playing with Cloud's hair that he didn't care much for those thoughts.
There was a light grunt, and Cloud's lashes fluttered a little, his brows furrowing.
Startled, Squall's hand shot back, gripping onto an area of shirt that covered his heart, trying to calm it down. He held his breath, freezing completely as he quietly observed Cloud let out another grunt and then quieten down, snoring softly once again. Squall waited for a very long moment, aware of every breath and creak resonating throughout the room.
Cautiously, Squall reached out to touch a spike of hair that stuck out.
He could barely comprehend what happened, as suddenly, Cloud had rolled over and was lying on top of him. The boy let out a slight squeal, realizing that the teenager had been awake and had merely been waiting for the chance to pounce.
Cloud was lying flat on the boy. His body had been strewn sideways across the bed with his long arms dangling across the edge of the mattress. His stomach weighed down completely on Squall's body, pinning him down and relieving him of the ability to laugh properly. Squall was reduced to gasps and breathless laughter as he struggled weakly under the teen, his face red. He tried to flail, but Cloud was heavy and he was laughing too hard to be able to do anything.
After a few strangled cries for Cloud to get off (the giggles stifled the words a little) the teenager grinned, finally conceding. He got to his knees, sitting up right and patting the small boy's head good-naturedly. He attempted to pout slightly at that, but he had a lame smile on his face, still recovering from the giggling.
Without warning, Squall jumped on Cloud with a wicked grin, wringing his arms around the blond's neck and toppling him over onto the bed. Cloud let out a slight yelp as Squall tried to lock the teenager's arms, but swiftly, he threw his leg over the boy, pinning him down once again and tangling them up helplessly in the blankets.
Squall tried to wriggle free, but Cloud was already advancing on him, fingers dancing wildly on his sides once again.
Squall squealed.
He struggled wildly, laughing his lungs dry as he tried his best to get up and attack Cloud, but, as per usual, the teenager was much stronger and bigger than he was. Cloud had locked both his legs around Squall's thighs, clamping them down as he concentrated on his tickling, grinning uncontrollably just as Squall managed to break free and proceeded to smack his face with his pillow.
With a startled, "Oof!" Cloud fell backwards, Squall launching himself onto the blond and grasping his arm and shoulder, effectively rendering it immobile as the teen started to laugh loudly, flipping them over so that he was lying on top of Squall again.
They continued to wrestle and tickle one another, their voices carrying throughout the house so much so Mrs. Strife herself decided to make the arduous trek to Cloud's room, still clad in her cooking apron. Carefully, she pushed the door open, her lips twitching upwards at the pair of boys. Her hands found their way to her hips and she watched the scene with a raised brow, cocking her head to the side to evade the pillow that had been hurled blindly. It smacked against the doorway and fell to the floor with a weak 'thump'.
She cleared her throat loudly, eyebrow still raised.
"Oh. Oh, hi Mum," Cloud managed a grin, his head teetering off the edge of the mattress as Squall was curled up on his stomach, somehow caught in the knot of sheets that had bundled up around the blond's waist. "Yeah, sorry about that. Lucky you dodged, huh?"
"Breakfast's ready. Waffles," she merely replied, lips curling upwards into an amused smile.
Both boys looked at each other a moment, a glint of challenge reflecting in their gazes. In the next instant, both were scrambling off the bed, the one still caught in the blankets tugging and pulling back the other, who was elbowing and pushing his way out. Cloud stumbled to the ground, bringing the mesh of comforters sailing to the floor.
Squall took the opportunity to squirm out of the blankets, hand slapped over Cloud's face to steady himself before he shoved the teen away with a giggle, making a mad dash for the doorway. Grumbling under his breath, Cloud pulled the sheets covering his legs away with his hands, jumping to his feet and racing out into the passageway.
He overtook Squall with ease, shooting the boy a smug grin. The kitchen was just a few paces beyond. The tantalizing scent of burnt honey and freshly cooked waffles was already caressing his nostrils, aiding his plight of victory. Just a little more, and the saccharine breakfast of the heavens would be all his.
With a slight growl, Squall made a lunge for Cloud's legs, knocking him flat onto the ground. He scrambled across the blond's fallen form, both of them struggling to pull the other down to floor using various dirty methods inclusive of poking, tickling, and more rogue elbows whacking here and there.
Eventually, Cloud let out a loud sigh of surrender by retreating to the floor, lying flat on his back whilst panting rather visibly. With a triumphant sound, Squall jumped to his feet and made the final dash to the kitchen table. He climbed onto a chair with a little victory, toddling up the furniture and plopping himself down with a smug air.
"Ouch!"
Squall glanced to the side, noting how Cloud was sitting up and cradling the back of his head as Mrs. Strife stood over him, laughing jocosely at her son. Cloud shot her a dirty look, and, noticing Squall's gaze, pouted childishly at the boy.
Squall merely grinned.
It was a nice, cool day, with patches of fluffy white clouds floating indolently through the bright blue sky. A warm breeze fluttered through the town, whispering in soothing gusts of wind. The lush green leaves rustled merrily with the winds, trees swaying back and forth in lazy sighs as the sparse sounds of the city drifted farther and farther away with each minute, the scenic panorama rushing by from behind thick glass.
Squall had his seatbelt on, head inclined to the side, temple resting against the car window. His eyes were glued on the scenery outside, gaze glazing over now and again. Car rides had always made him sleepy. He didn't really know why.
Too lazy to move, Squall merely tilted his chin upwards a little, tearing his gaze away to allow it to settle on the blond teenager who was currently driving the car casually. His almond-shaped eyes were half-lidded, peering up quietly as a smile flickered across his lips.
Awake, the usual sternness had returned to Cloud's face, causing the tenseness to resurface in his demeanour. He wasn't like the cherubic image of peace Squall had made him out to be when he had been asleep.
Cloud must have noticed the boy's perusal as he glanced sideways, catching Squall's eye. Squall smiled at him, cocking his head a little. The teen quickly returned his eyes to the road, both hands now gripping the steering wheel as a smile of his own ghosted across his lips, Cloud starting to feel completely elated and simply unable to keep that emotion from spreading throughout his body and affecting him wholly.
Soon enough, Cloud had begun to hum a soft tune, lips curled upwards in a miniscule, yet unwavering smile. He sat up straighter, guiding the car with more fluidity and ease than before. Every once in a while, when he thought he felt Squall's eyes on him, he was tempted to return the gaze but he reminded himself that he had to be vigilant on the road.
The tar road gradually buried into a thick layer of stones and dirt, cloaked by dried grass until, eventually, the road disappeared completely and gave way to nothing more than a path of dirt and soil and grass that had been flattened and compacted to form a hard slab of earth. Thankfully, the country was mercifully dry during summer. Any simple rainstorm would have caused the dirt path to become nothing more than a mud trap, and that wasn't very welcome for a car that had just recently been washed.
Cloud turned right, breaking away from the main path for a moment to answer his ringing phone. Silently, he read the display screen, holding it up to his ear to listen to the speaker on the other end. As usual, he didn't do much talking, but he digressed from his usual anti-social grunting and resorted instead to soft murmurs of, "Yeah," every now and again to signify his response.
He heaved a small sigh of amusement at the cheery farewell the caller ended with, the smile widening a touch. He brought the phone down, looking at the display screen once again and chuckled quietly, shaking his head a little.
Cloud glanced to the side, turning his head to get a proper look at Squall who had dozed off. The soothing vibration of the moving car and the heat of a warm summer day must have lulled him to sleep.
The blond slipped his phone into the coin box, resting both hands on the top of the steering wheel and leaning forward, resting his chin against his wrists as his eyes remained on the boy. Expression softening immensely, Cloud's gaze grazed the delicate reflection of light that bounced off the boy's porcelain white skin, resisting the urge to just lean over and squeeze the living daylights out of the boy. He'd wake up cranky.
It was this that clenched at Cloud's heart so much, that made him want to protect Squall with all his being. Squall looked so innocent and sweet then too, that night when he had healed from his bout of flu, and during the car ride to Cid's house. He was such a cute kid, really. With a quiet, mirthful laugh, Cloud leaned back into his seat, recalling how Squall had played with his hair when he thought no one was looking.
Cloud's expression slipped into a more meaningful, wistful one. He reached over, fingers gently touching his forehead and brushing away Squall's dark bangs. He slowly – delicately – traced the bridge of Squall's nose, brushing a knuckle past his slightly parted lips and sliding away from the boy's chin. He leaned forward, eyes fluttering shut, and pressed his lips against Squall's forehead, letting it linger, letting reality sink in for just a moment longer before he pulled away, stroking his hair.
Cloud murmured the boy's name softly as he did so. It took a while, but Squall finally awakened, blinking sleepily at the teenager.
A smile pulled at his lips again, and Cloud nodded, tapping Squall's nose before he returned to the steering wheel, switching gears and reversing slowly. He knew that the boy was looking around drowsily, a little confused. Cloud turned into the vast expanse of fields by the dirt path, the drive a little bumpy as he drove the car over the tall grass.
It was a good thing that Squall had roused before this length of the drive. It wasn't pleasant to be awoken with a large bump to the head courtesy of the window, due to the uneven path. He'd have been really cranky then.
After a few more uncomfortable minutes, Cloud finally made it to more level ground, pulling into a spot beside a small red pick-up truck, parking the car.
Squall scrambled out of his seatbelt, sliding out of the car, and putting his entire weight into closing the car door tightly. A warm wind flurried through, washing past them with the fresh and strong scents of summer; like hydrangeas and burnt honey.
Squall glanced up at the sky, screwing his eyes shut at the glare, raising an arm to protect them.
Just then, a huge shadow completely blocked out his view of the sun and he found himself blinking up at a cheery, grinning face.
Before anything could happen, he felt his feet lift off the ground, body feeling light as he was tossed into the air, caught again by a pair of strong, calloused hands. He grinned at that smiling face, giggling heartily when he felt the man's stubbly chin rubbing against his cheek playfully. After a while, he stopped, holding the boy up so they could talk face to face.
"Lookit you, kid! Well I'll be, you're lookin' mighty good, y'are. Mighty good. Didja miss yer Uncle Cid?" the aged man asked with a grin, carrying the boy upright. Squall grinned again, nodding at the man with a slight chuckle, his fingers curling into the fabric at the man's shoulders automatically.
Cid and Cloud exchanged smiles and greetings, the old man jerking a thumb towards the back of his pick-up. Squall's gaze followed the direction of Cid's pointing, noting, with some degree of mystification, a bundle of colourful papers and some brittle twigs and branches packed together. After a bit of puzzling, he could only conclude that it was for Cid's gardening purposes and left it at that, instead turning around and nestling comfortably against the aged man, looking at Cloud.
Cid and Cloud were talking again, and as usual, Squall himself had just begun to lose interest at any exchanges between them. He was set down on the back of the pick-up, his legs swinging back and forth as it dangled over the edges as Cloud and Cid continued chatting among themselves, hauling things from the side of the car.
Cid was winding something, wire, maybe, still chatting jovially with Cloud, completely unfazed by his typical quietness. Every now and again he'd glance at Squall and wink before returning to doing whatever it was he was doing. He was in an exceptionally good mood, Squall decided, noting the extra bounce in his step and the lack of straw or cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips.
The lazy summer sun was starting to soothe Squall to sleep once again, mingled with the pleasant winds that swept through the countryside. They were out of town, closer to Cid's home that were still a few kilometres down the road. Squall leaned back, both palms set down on the truck's dusty cargo area floor, head tilted up to bask in the sleepy sunrays as he closed his eyes.
He could hear the faint sounds of vehicles driving past on the highway quite a distance away, the cheery chirping of birds filling the skies as the gentle whistling of the wind tickled his ears. With a soft, content sigh, Squall felt himself slipping off to sleep once again.
He felt a rough palm grip his shoulder tightly, shaking him.
"Oy, oy! No time to be sleepin' ya hear? Get off that butt o' yours and get over 'ere!"
With a slight, childish pout, Squall jumped off cautiously, shuffling over to the centre grassy expanse where Cloud was, aware that he was sulking slightly but not caring in the least. Cloud regarded him with a chuckle, ruffling his hair affectionately when he plunked himself against the teenager's supple legs, pouting at a blameless rock on the ground.
Cid came by, getting down right beside Squall and setting a small reel in his hands. He pointed out roughly how to use it. Squall blinked.
A kite spool?
Cloud nudged something into his hands, that smile of his ghosting across his lips once again as he winked at the boy. He snuck a glance at Cid, who had returned to the back of his pick-up to retrieve another kite. With a conspiratorial grin, he cupped a hand around Squall's ear, whispering quickly.
"Just run your heart out."
He pulled back, giving Squall a pointed look, seeking confirmation that he understood. Squall paused a moment before he smiled, nodding.
Gripping the line of his kite, he raised his right hand up, left hand positioned over the spool. With an encouraging clap to his back from Cloud, he broke into a run, eyes remaining on the kite as he sprinted forward, fingers deftly guiding the line. His legs burned slightly, but he didn't care; all that mattered suddenly was the bright red and orange kite against the brilliant blue sky.
Slowly, he released the string steadily, fingers hooking around the line to keep too much from spilling out of the spool. It was a bit of work and little bit more running in addition to ignoring Cid's indignant shouting, but eventually, a wind picked up the kite and soon enough, it was soaring.
Squall ran for all he was worth back to Cid, the grin on his face wide and irrepressible. His eyes shone brightly, face full of colour and entire body brimming with life as he ran into the old man, Cid catching the boy in his arms with a hearty laugh. They started manoeuvring the kite, sailing it through the clouds once it was high enough to and steering it away from the occasional bird.
Squall laughed. He just did. It was strange, it was inexplicable, it was crazy but he laughed his heart out and he just felt happier when he noticed the smile spreading to both Cid and Cloud.
Life was wonderful.
Squall was happy, he had found something important in his life that spanned beyond simple companionship and, at that moment, the fact that he was Leon didn't matter at all. He was bathing in sunshine with Cid and Cloud, flying kites – something he hadn't done in about 14 years or so – and life was good. Life was great.
And then suddenly, he heard Cloud call his name sharply.
He stopped, turning to look at the teenager who had begun to jog towards them, his expression tense and stern and angry. Cid's expression fell, moulding into something more familiar and grim, as though he knew the situation at hand. He nodded at Cloud even before he spoke, eyeing Squall briefly before flicking his gaze back up at the blond. His hand remained on top of Squall's head.
"I'm sorry. Something came up. We're going home."
Cloud strode into the house, leaving Squall behind to jog to keep up with the blond. Upon entering, it was evident that something was off. The boy looked around, noticing moved furniture and books and papers that had been strewn and tossed across the place. Something bad had happened. Cloud had entered the kitchen, muttering something in a low and bitter voice. Squall hurried to Cloud's side, fingers curling around a bit of fabric of his jeans. The boy looked up ahead with a confused expression at the unfamiliar face that was leaning casually against the counters towards Mrs. Strife, a faint grey streak that ran through the man's hair visible under the glint of the sun.
"Well, well. Look who we have here. Miss me?" the man smirked, crossing his arms as he inclined his body towards the two.
Cloud growled lowly, Squall peering up at the blond.
"If that is not enough, we could always look at some spare furniture I have in the guest room," Cloud's mother interjected, her voice devoid of its womanly warmth and strangely businesslike. Her expression was solemn, and, oddly enough, irritated to a measure.
"Lead the way, ma'am," the man bowed slightly, giving her a salute. His tone held a distinct tinge of playfulness, and perhaps a little mocking though it couldn't be determined.
She shot him an icy glare. Squall winced involuntarily at the poison, suddenly aware that Cloud and his mother were more alike than he was ready to admit. Mrs. Strife turned on her heel indignantly and walked off into another room.
The man didn't move, preferring to remain in his position though he leaned even lower, eyes glued to the woman's back at a rather. . . scandalous location. He smirked again, leering at her posterior as it disappeared down the hall. Letting out a low whistle, a deep chuckle rumbled through his throat as he straightened up, brushing off his suit and shooting Cloud a rather self-satisfied look, baring his teeth in a rather feral manner.
"Phew, Momma Strife's some kind of hot stuff, ain't she, kid? Love her body."
Cloud scowled angrily in response.
"Don't you dare," he spat at the man, gathering as much odium and hatred and venom as humanly possible in that one glower, clenching his fists so tightly that Squall could see that he was shaking, knuckles completely white. "Don't you fucking dare do anything to my mum, got it? Don't you touch her or I'll make you suffer in so many ways, that left eye of yours will join your fucking right."
The man snorted, tossing his head back haughtily.
"Sharp words from some pretty sharp hair," he sneered in retaliation, raising his hand in a lazy motion to flick Cloud off, but the teenager was faster than him.
Squall grimaced a little at the strained, pained cringe that was evident on the man's face. Cloud had managed a quick move, grasping his wrist and twisting it in an odd angle brutally. Any much harder and the cartilage would tear off cleanly from the ligament in his elbow and wrist.
"I don't care who the fuck you are, Xigbar," Cloud hissed, voice dangerously low. "But I swear to you, if you do anything at all to her, I'll kill you."
Cloud released him roughly, shoving the man back.
Xigbar staggered, massaging his wrist tenderly as he narrowed his one good eye into a piercing glare at the blond. "Some mummy complex you've got," he muttered spitefully. Scowling, he dusted his suit off stiffly, straightening it out and standing up straight to his full height, towering over the blond by about an inch.
Cloud didn't back down, meeting his gaze head on with a glare of his own.
Squall's gaze averted between the two, the hair at the back of his neck standing on its edge. He resisted the urge to step back; suddenly aware of something that had always puzzled him before. He squinted at the fuming pair, eyeing the livid stance and the defensive pose Cloud had taken. His back was arched, like a predator ready to strike out at its prey, and he had taken a step forward, fist clenched and ever ready to throw a punch. His entire body was rigid, stiff with anger.
Wasn't Cloud always like this when they used to fight?
Squall felt downright amazed at that, incredulous of the fact that he and Cloud had ever clashed so violently before this. The two weeks that he had spent living with Cloud had changed him and his perspective of the teenager so much that he had forgotten what it had been like to hold even a pinch of hatred for him.
Swallowing slightly, Squall took a hesitant step forward, feeling timid and weak in front of these bristling adults. He continued on, each step growing less wobbly until he was finally right beside them. He clenched his fist for a moment, inhaling slowly before reaching out and tugging at Cloud's trousers slightly, asking for a little attention, hoping to break the fight.
Just like that, the spell was broken.
Cloud looked down at Squall, eyes glazed over, expression a touch dazed. The teenager blinked a few times, taking in the imploring image of the young boy, his body slowly losing all tension and stringency and relaxing. Xigbar, too, seemed to have been affected. He looked down at the kid, frowning deeply.
"Xigbar! Aren't you going to come and look at the-"
Cloud's mother halted in the doorway, freezing slightly at the image before her. She glanced between all of them, biting down on her lower lip before exchanging a rather serious look with her son. Cloud, in response, shook his head slowly after a moment of pausing. Her gaze travelled to Squall, who was still clutching onto the blond.
"New kid of yours?" Xigbar grunted in question, not looking directly at Mrs. Strife.
She looked at him, lips twisted into a frown.
"I'm taking care of him."
Xigbar grunted again, shrugging this time. His eyes remained on the ground, staring at his shoes. Slowly, she walked towards them, gaze lingering on the man before she squatted down at eye level with Squall, flashing him a small smile. He relaxed visibly at that, his grip on Cloud's trousers loosening. She enveloped him in her arms and he willingly obliged, nestling himself against her as she got to her feet, cradling him in her arms consolingly.
"Y'know something? Forget it," Xigbar said huffily, tossing Cloud a brief glare before turning to meet his mother's eyes. "I won't repossess anything this time. Watch your back and come up with the money next month or I won't go so easy on you." With that said, he gave her a curt nod and strode out the door, the door closing behind him with a firm click.
Cloud's mother held Squall closer, tucking his head under her chin, and smiled weakly at Cloud, nodding a little.
Cloud's expression darkened. He met Squall's worried gaze briefly, and for that one moment, sensed something deeper than mere childish panic. It was a knowing type of worry, his unquestioning demeanour suddenly making the blond feel uneasy. It was like he wasn't able to hide anything from the boy, like nothing could faze even a small child like himself, be it even monetary problems or Xigbar's kind of subtle blackmailing.
Like Squall knew.
Cloud looked away.
A/N: Aaaaaand finally, all the chapters from my LJ have been transferred to FFN successfully. In the mean time, I'm working on chapter 8, so sit tight and review so that I can update fast or I might just change my mind. D: