Harshly, Sweetly You
By: Phoenix Dayze

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy or its characters. What a shame.

"You're late." Zack's voice was low, strained, and he shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he spoke. His eyes were alive with Mako, the excessive gleam from his recent promotion to Second Class still struggling to even out, but instead of the usual quirky mirth, there was a strange quietness, and there was a solemnity in the set of Zack's mouth that was unfamiliar.

Sephiroth stared. What the hell was wrong with the boy? Hadn't Zack's note expressly said not to worry about the time? Turning, he closed the door with a bit more malice than was probably necessary, the metal clanging loudly. Annoyance skittered around his brain. He invited me up here, abandoned his party, and that's all he has to say? Frowning slightly, Sephiroth turned back to Zack, his voice bearing a bit more chill than he had really intended. "I don't remember your sweet, little note mentioning that I was on a schedule. In fact, I seem to recall something along the lines of, "lose the watch"." He brandished his bare wrist. "Besides," he added, "it's not my fault that you changed our plans and didn't tell me. If you had, I might have been on time."

Sephiroth could fairly see Zack's defense mechanism switching on as the boy's brows drew into a tight scowl, his eyes flashing. "You're pinning this on me?!"

Sephiroth threw out an arm, gesturing wildly around him. "We're on a roof, Zack!"

"So?"

"So?" Sephiroth scoffed. "Doesn't the fact that we're standing alone on the ShinRa helipad, in the rain, on your birthday, but not going anywhere seem a little strange to you?"

Zack frowned and cocked his head. "Well, yes, but…how does that make your being late my fault?"

"Because, Zack," Sephiroth spat out, "you were supposed to be in your barracks! Getting drunk! Or laid! Or whatever it is that high-ranking, teenage delinquents do!"

Zack froze, seemingly contemplating Sephiroth's words. "…You're right." He said after a long pause. "Maybe I did overstep myself a bit. Although…" His gaze turned inward, and an unusual grin captured the corner of his mouth. "You know, that's not a bad idea. I should do that. Get laid, I mean."

That stung. Sephiroth wasn't sure if Zack's statement implied that he should finally "give it up" or if it was more of a "yeah, sex is good", but the idea of Zack engaging in those kinds of activities, with other men, or worse, women, actually hurt. He realized that he had been rather naïve, not that he had assumed that Zack was a virgin, but simply that he'd deliberately forced himself not to think about it, and it occurred to him now that he had no idea. Not one clue. Basing things on Zack's past behavior, Sephiroth could only conclude that Zack had been sexually active since, well…birth. But he'd never seen him focus on anyone, so maybe it was just all an act, just another of his games.

Swallowing thickly around the knot of jealous pain in his throat, Sephiroth followed Zack's example and put his hands in his pockets, feeling more confused and insecure than he'd ever had need to. He glanced at Zack before quickly shifting his gaze to the reflective markers at his feet. "Well why don't you? I'm sure your squad-mates will be more than happy to pool their paychecks and get you a good one."

Sharp, unmasked hurt flooded over Zack's face, and he swallowed hard. "I…" He swallowed again, licking his lips. "No…they wouldn't. My real friends know me better than that."

"I'm sure they do." Sephiroth knew he shouldn't be saying these things, but he didn't care. No, that wasn't right. He did care, it was just, with Zack, he didn't seem to have any control. So no matter how much he knew he shouldn't say this, his mouth poured poison anyway. "So, have you fucked all of them, or just the pretty ones?"

The fist that connected with his face was unexpected to say the least, and Sephiroth went sprawling, the wet pavement hard and scraping against his back. He stared up at Zack, who was standing over him, his body trembling with barely restrained hate-fury, raindrops streaking down his face like tears. Then, Zack knelt down, straddling Sephiroth's hips, seized Sephiroth's collar in his left hand, and laid another solid punch against Sephiroth's jaw. And when the stars cleared from his vision, Sephiroth could see that some of the drops on Zack's cheeks were tears, the Mako making them sparkle a bit in the moonlight.

Then, the words—the hateful, bitter accusations. "How dare you. How can you stand there and insult me like that? How could you think that I'd ever want something so meaningless? That I would pay for sex? That I would use my rank to rape my men? I thought you were my friend! But…you don't…you don't know me at all."

But the words never came. Instead, soft, warm lips pressed ever so lightly against his own, aching, desperate, needing despite how chaste the contact was. And Zack's hands, his strong, capable hands, were slipping around his shoulders, fingers pressing into the soaked fabric of his shirt.

Sephiroth closed his eyes, and opened his mouth.

Zack whimpered, and answered the silent call, his tongue tracing lightly against Sephiroth's parted lips, and when it slid inside Sephiroth's mouth, it was hot and wanting too long and rain and how could you hurt me and love/need/love… Reaching up, Sephiroth clutched at Zack's shoulders, yanking the man's body closer to his own and took control of the kiss, putting into it all that he felt, everything he knew now that Zack wanted, and himself.

Harsh and sweet and everything together, they kissed, blaming, forgiving, asking, and telling. And Sephiroth could feel their bodies responding, even with the rain. And Zack felt so incredibly real, so amazingly right, that if Sephiroth could have died in that moment, he might have done it, just to be able to say that he'd died a happy man.

Zack had changed a lot in the last two years. Not the important things, the essence of Zack had remained unchanged throughout his training, his promotions, the Mako enhancements, even the war with Wutai hadn't gotten to his core, for which Sephiroth was still insatiably grateful. Zack still had that quirky disrespect, he still bore his name with pride, despite the shadows that clung to the SOLDIER Second Class reputation, and he was still a pain in Sephiroth's ass. And while the innocent views Sephiroth had admired had been altered a bit to adjust for maturity and experience, Zack was still full of hope and eager determination to set things right. To make dreams come true. And that was all that mattered.

That, and the feel of Zack's body against him, heart to heart. This was where he belonged, and nothing and no one—save Zack himself—could make him give it up.

But even Sephiroth hadn't known then, that in just a few short weeks, their lives would change forever, that something completely unexpected lurked just around the corner.

Zack would meet a boy by the name of Cloud Strife.

The End.