CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The lights of the dining hall were mostly off, two of the halogens remaining illuminated, casting their bright glow down upon the entrance, and the end near the windows. Cloud sat in the darkest section that could be found, in the middle of it all, on a table, his feet on a chair. One hand was splayed upon the cold metal surface, the other holding the identification tags aloft, swinging them slowly back and forth. His eyes tracked them from side to side, watching them spin, listening to the steady clink, feeling its own weight perpetuating the momentum. Only occasionally did he need to give help, tilting his fist to the side to encourage its speed.

Since first arriving at the castle, joining the Restoration Committee, he had done this every now and then – the silence within the darkness was a blessing, somewhere cool for Cloud to close his eyes and not have to think, or feel, or be someone anyone was expecting. This was the closest he could come to peace, this lonely nothing. To exist completely within himself, no outside world to speak of in the dim, empty space…

He wasn't sure why he insisted on bringing out the tags every time he found the time, didn't really know what the appeal was of staring at them for minutes or hours on end, except that maybe it was easier to think of Sephiroth as a name carved into metal than a pile of ashes somewhere in Gongaga. Zack had kept them, he said, in a small metal tin. That was what remained of the greatest general of the Zanarkand army, the one person that had loved Cloud above all else. The tormented soul he had owned would be free now of its cold and regal bearing, the ramrod-straight posture, the electric eyes that could send a soldier screaming, or Cloud…

He wondered, desperately, who could have been impersonating him, who would want to hurt Roxas in Cloud's place. Axel's recount of the madness that had come dribbling from the man's lips baffled and chilled him – instead of coming after Cloud directly, the impostor had chosen to focus in on the one person that looked vaguely similar to him. It didn't matter that it was only the colouring – Roxas had been marked, and Cloud could only wish that it had been him sitting on that hill in the valley instead of the teen. Perhaps then none of this would have happened. So, a false Sephiroth was homing in on a false Cloud. What would that mean, ultimately, for Roxas? If the guy had done his homework – and Cloud found, unsettlingly, that he had appeared to – he wouldn't just give up. Sephiroth wouldn't have. But who on earth resembled the great man enough, knew him enough, to pass as him?

Also, how had they taken Masamune from the General's belongings? It belonged to Cloud now, rightfully. Seph's will stated it, according to Zack. Everything had gone to him. It had even extended to his brothers' items, his hard voice engulfing the pattern of their own wills as if he had been standing above them dictating each and every word. Knowing Seph, it was all too possible. When it had come to Cloud… Well, Cloud had heard tell of Axel's obsession for Roxas. It had startled him badly to have it described as such, because, in his mind, that had always been the word he'd attached to Sephiroth's emotions towards him. Burning, black, white obsession. The bubbling, tar-like quality of it, the shackles that had lashed him always close to the man, who wanted nothing more than to share the light that Cloud was making him feel… Sephiroth had been ever the walking contradiction. A person… should be comprised of shades of grey, not a constantly warring black and white. It was in the soul-thin space between the two that Seph's own madness had sprung to life, twisting him slowly but surely, until the man he once was was lost among the echo of the many voices of his heart… Cloud saw none of that in Axel. He had known the redhead distantly in the six weeks prior to Roxas' arrival, and his own, private categorisation of his behaviour was simply… someone longing to be completed. Axel had allowed part of himself to be swallowed into Twilight Town, and spent the consequent years desperately needing it back.

Sephiroth hadn't needed completing… He hadn't needed Cloud to be whole. He had just – consumed him. He had filled himself with the blond, and wondered why it still felt like someone was blowing him apart chunk by chunk.

The necklace swung steadily, drawing Cloud's thoughts deeper, although a section of him remained distracted and restless. Somehow, the darkness wasn't helping this time. Not like it used to. Maybe because his mind was working too hard, filled with silver hair and blazing jade eyes, cutting his meditation apart in the form of memories. Still, he was absorbed enough to not hear the footsteps approaching. As silent as they were, skin on tile, there was still a brush that would have alerted him any other time of the night. The owner of the feet wasn't trying to be quiet, and when the blond didn't turn, Leon placed his hands on his bare hips, taking the opportunity, as usual, to study Cloud. There was something different about him, that at first the sleep-ridden brunet couldn't put his finger on. It took several minutes before he realised: Cloud wasn't tense. He wasn't on guard. He was – open, and relaxed, because he didn't know yet that his walls were required. It was like seeing him smile at Zack again, that first time. There was something softer about the man in moments like this than he allowed to exist the rest of the time.

Leon's eyes narrowed slightly, as he realised what Cloud was doing – he saw the glint of metal in the splashback from the lights. That necklace again. Sephiroth. Leon had to admit, he was still kind of dismayed that Cloud could ever have willingly chosen to be with a man like that. No matter what his moral dilemmas may have been according to Zack, anyone who was capable of delivering the orders he knew that the General had personally given barely registered as truly human. Someone like that didn't go home at the end of the day and give their lover a foot massage and curl up with a book, even given the free time to do so. Someone like that – was alien. How could Cloud have found anything in his heart for such a person?

He shifted in place, deliberately drawing his feet along the floor to make a shushing noise, but still the blond didn't stir from his reverie. Leon raised an eyebrow, decided a less subtle approach was called for. "Self-hypnotism, Cloud?"

The man jerked violently, a small, startled noise escaping his lips. The necklace slipped from his fingers. He made a desperate grab for it, but it hit his knee and slithered away, clattering to the floor. He twisted sharply, eyes wide, breathing hard. "Leon?" His expression faltered slightly. The man was bare from the waist up, dressed in light cotton pants, hair tousled as if he'd just rolled out of bed. Which, from the looks of it, he had. Leon blinked calmly. "What're you doing?"

Cloud scowled, turned away, stood on the chair, towering over the other man briefly before stepping down. His boots squeaked as he shifted back and lowered to his hands and knees. "I was just sitting. Is that okay with you?" he muttered. "You scared the hell out of me."

Leon crouched, tipped his head to one side so he could peer under the table to where the man groped semi-blindly for the metal chain. "I meant, what are you doing awake still? It's nearly two in the morning. We've got a long day ahead of us."

"You're up, aren't you?" he retorted, as rudely as possible, crawling deeper between the many thick and thin stationary legs. Leon shrugged.

"I got hungry. I was asleep, though, as you should be."

"You've stayed up til three before," Cloud reminded him shortly, hands patting around, eyes adjusting slowly to the new depth of darkness. "We were awake until three-thirty the other night, remember?"

Leon hopped closer, grabbing the edge of the table for balance, ducking his head under. "That was only when Roxas was acting crazy." He eyed the man in the dimness. "I don't ordinarily stay up that long voluntarily. Not without a good reason."

"Well, good for you," replied the blond testily, still unable to find the tags. "Ever consider that I do have a good reason?"

"Can't you pine for Sephiroth in your dreams or something?" the brunet asked flatly. "I don't feel like having you lagging from tiredness when we get to the fissure."

"Who says I'm pining for Sephiroth?" Cloud snapped. "And by the way, you're an asshole."

Leon shrugged, a glint catching his eye. He scooped up Sephiroth's tags from where they'd skittered to wrap around the leg of one of the chairs, and jingled them to catch the other man's attention. Cloud froze, looking up. "Maybe I am," the brunet agreed. "But I'm an asshole with your jewellery."

"It's not jewellery," Cloud muttered. He clambered over, bumping chairs along the way, and snatched it away from his loose grip. "It's ID."

"A good thing, if he blew his head off like I heard," Leon replied neutrally. Cloud's eyes darkened dramatically, expression hardening. A tense moment passed, their gazes locked.

"If I wasn't going to crack my head against the table by doing so," he said at last, voice low, "I would leap at you now and start punching the crap out of that pretty face."

Leon smirked. "You think I'm pretty?"

Cloud didn't respond. He backed up, kicking a couple chairs noisily out of the way, leaving the confines and straightening, pulling himself up by the lip of the table. He brushed himself off automatically, his glare on Leon the whole time. "Do you have any idea how much of a horrible thing that was to say? He was my boyfriend."

"Your ex," Leon reminded him, standing also, arms folding over his chest.

"And that matters how?" Cloud asked sharply. Leon lifted a brow.

"You don't think it matters?"

"I don't think you should talk about anyone that way," he replied coldly. "Think, for just a second, Leon. Think about how that must have sounded to me. You and I might have our problems getting along, but you just hit a new record." He looped the chain around his neck, pulling the stray spikes of hair free from beneath it, and tucked it under his shirt. "See you in the morning," he muttered. "I'll take your advice and go to bed now."

As he went to brush past the brunet, Leon thrust out a hand, holding him back, sighing. "No – wait. I'm sorry." He shook his head slightly. "I didn't mean to come and destroy your quiet time."

"Well, you did," said Cloud shortly. "I was doing fine before you came along. Congratulations, Leon, you've succeeded in making me feel like shit. Are you always this respectful towards people, or am I just special enough to catch your attention?"

The man grimaced. "Look, I'm sorry. I just came for a drink and a snack, and instead…" He shrugged. "Well, instead I'm feeling steadily more and more… assholish."

"How very astute of you," came the scathing reply. Leon frowned, grip tightening momentarily on the front of the blond's shirt.

"I don't mean to upset you like this, Cloud. You know it frustrates me to see you wallowing away about Sephiroth."

"Damn it, I'm not wallowing," the man snapped. He jerked free, smoothed his shirt sharply. "You're frustrated, Leon? How do you think I feel? I ran away, so Sephiroth killed himself. I wasn't there to keep him together anymore, so he not only took out himself, he took out his brothers. People I knew and cared about are gone because of one decision I made!"

Leon blinked. "Cloud, it wasn't your – "

"I know it's not my fault," he interrupted harshly. "I'm not a complete idiot. It was all up to Seph, wasn't it? His choice. But damn it, why do you people keep expecting me to be okay with this? Am I supposed to just brush it off? Am I supposed to pretend that it all happened to benefit me?" His gaze was hard, but there was an element of pleading behind it all, a sort of desperation. "Can't you understand that what happened to them is a tragedy, Leon? Years of love, years of loyalty, and now they're all just gone." He sought the man's gaze as Leon dropped his eyes uncomfortably. "How would you feel if that was you?" he asked intently. "What if it was you who was on the brink, and the one person that you were hurting the most, the only one holding you together, just left?"

Storm-grey eyes cut up, narrow. "He was hurting you?"

"Mentally, Leon," Cloud answered impatiently, "and emotionally, yes." He hesitated. "He was suffering, and… he was cruel because of it. But more than that… he was losing his mind…" A brief silence fell between them. Leon waited for him to continue, but Cloud scowled. "Why am I even telling you this? You don't care." He started to move, and again was stopped, Leon's hand grabbing him by the shoulder, a frown in place.

"Of course I care, Cloud. Maybe I don't understand, but I'll be the first to admit it's because I don't know the situation. Maybe if you enlightened me, I'd be in a better position to help you."

"Did I say I needed help?" the blond demanded.

"You're not pulling away, are you?" Leon's voice was steady, calm. Cloud turned cold. He reached up to grab Leon's hand away. "Just give me a chance," the man said irritably. "I want to understand, Cloud, and maybe I'm not your boyfriend, but does that mean you have to lock it all away until I am?"

Cloud paused, momentarily confused by the brunet's choice of words. While he attempted to sort the sentence out, Leon took the hesitation as a sign of assent, and cautiously released him. He stepped back warily, ready to try and stop him again if necessary, but wondering wearily if it was really worth the trouble. If Cloud was determined to keep his mouth shut about all this, then in the end, there was little Leon could do to force him. Besides – he didn't want to force him. He wanted Cloud to trust him enough to tell him on his own. He wanted Cloud to want to tell him.

The blond eyed him suspiciously. "You hate Sephiroth, though."

Leon shrugged. "Did I say that? Yuffie hates him for what he did to Wutai, but me?" The corners of his mouth turned down. "He sounds like a monster to me, quite frankly. But…" He studied Cloud for a moment. "You're not stupid, and neither are you masochistic. If you say he was capable of kindness, I'll believe you." There was a pause, before he added, "I want to know what happened to drive you away from him. I want to know why he killed himself."

"So it's less about me, and more about satisfying your own curiosity?" Cloud supposed cynically. Leon shook his head.

"It's all about you,Cloud. I don't care about the details except for where they concern you."

Cloud's expression grew uncertain. He rolled his shoulders a little. "It's late, though. And – weren't you just up for a snack? I – I shouldn't take up your time more than I have done…"

Leon sighed. "You can talk while I eat, you know. I don't chew with my mouth open. I'll be able to hear you."

Suddenly frustrated, Cloud asked, "Why do you even care, Leon? What does it matter to you?"

Leon regarded him flatly for a long moment, eyes ticking over his features. "You're a friend, aren't you?" he replied at last. When Cloud didn't reply, that faintly baffled expression back in place, he shrugged and went across to the kitchen. He wondered, with an element of undisclosed anxiety, if the blond wouldn't just take this opportunity to walk away without saying another word. The sound of wary boots approaching from behind sent relief tingling through him. He set the kettle boiling, shifted over to one of the two large refrigerators, opened one broad door and gazed blankly in.

Cloud watched him with a frown, leaning against the counter, arms crossing over his chest. From here, he had a damn good view of Leon's profile, and on top of everything else, this was unsettling him. He wasn't sure he should have stayed. All he'd wanted was to be alone with his thoughts, and now here he was, preparing to actually air them. To Leon, no less. Leon in just a pair of cotton pants. He closed his eyes, berating himself sternly. This was no time for attraction. Not when he could feel the metal against his chest.

A long silence developed, filled with the increasing bubble of water as it grew closer to boiling. Leon hung inside the refrigerator, squinting. When at last the whistle sounded, Cloud reached across and flicked the switch, listening to the fading, weak squeal the steam gave as it subsided. Leon grunted, reached in, brought out a block of cheese and closed the door. He carried it over to the counter, grabbed one of the long knives from its slot within a slab of wood. "You want some cheese?"

Cloud sent him a dull look. "No. Thanks."

The man sliced a piece, picked up a corner as it crumbled, stuck it in his mouth. "I like cheese."

"I know. I've noticed."

Leon shrugged, picked up a mug and threw in a teabag, filled it up. "What about tea? You want a drink?"

"I wasn't aware we were sitting down for a chat, Leon," Cloud replied in annoyance. "Jesus, do you do this often? Do you bring your dollies out in the middle of the night and have a party?"

"High heels," Leon murmured, and Cloud glared.

"Okay, that joke is incredibly old now."

"First you call me pretty, then you accuse me of having tea parties – just evening up the femininity stakes here." He carried his mug over and placed it carefully on the countertop, resumed slicing cheese. "So let's move on to more masculine topics, then, like death, blood and murder." He raised his eyes, glanced sideways at the blond. "Tell me what happened. How if affected you."

Cloud shook his head. "I don't know… I feel weird talking about it…" He sighed. "It's – it's all just in my head, Leon. It's all up there, swimming around… I don't know if I can even articulate it. It's not a bedtime story."

"Good thing I'm not in bed then," the brunet replied lightly. He lined up two sticks of yellow and cut them into numerous uneven cubes. "I wasn't planning on having sweet dreams anyway."

The blond was quiet for several beats, watching the other man work, still chopping away, the knife hitting the surface with a low thunk every few seconds. "He felt guilty," he said softly. The slicing slowed briefly, before resuming its regular, efficient pace.

"Zack said something along those lines," Leon agreed in a low voice. "Implied that you were his tormented lover."

Cloud snorted a little. "Zack would." He sighed. "He always sees through everything. He visited every now and then on various missions, came to see us in Zanarkand a little while before… before I left." He shook his head shortly. "He could see that things weren't right. It was obvious. I tried so hard to make it seem like everything was fine… maybe I tried too hard, I don't know. Either way, Zack figured it out. Asked some questions. Seph punched him for his troubles." He rolled a shoulder. "That was – the beginning of the end, I guess, to coin a crappy term. He never hit me, Sephiroth never laid a finger on me… but he wanted to. A couple of times, he – he really had to restrain himself." Cloud lifted his eyes, seeing it again, looking at the point in the air where Sephiroth's fist had hovered on the few occasions when Cloud holding him together was something to be hated. "So when he punched Zack… I knew it wasn't long before I followed. He wasn't even sorry." He looked briefly mournful. "Zack didn't hold it against him, but the last time he ever saw him alive, Sephiroth despised him. Called him – all sorts of names."

"So he was violent," Leon murmured. Cloud frowned, lowered his head slightly, sinking down a little against the counter.

"It was usually self-directed. He had a lot of self-loathing going on. The guilt was eating him up."

"From?" Leon popped a cube into his mouth, the knife momentarily stationary, propped on its tip, his wrist rolling slightly, screwing a tiny hole into the counter. Cloud sent him a withering look.

"What do you think? You called him a monster earlier – Yuffie hates me by association – Seph wasn't stupid, Leon, he knew that he was doing the wrong thing. Hell, by the end of it, most of them did in the upper ranks. But what can you do? You don't just pull out of a war. So he kept going, and made it as fast as he could. His methods grew a little brutal by the end, but hell – that's old news. That's ten years ago. I was barely more than a kid back then. I didn't know Seph until I turned nineteen, met him through Zack. Didn't get together with him til I was twenty-two." He was pensive. "It's funny that in the four years I was around, he actually got worse. I think… he felt bad for feeling good, you know?"

Leon was curious, to a certain degree. "So you were the catalyst to it all."

Cloud grimaced. "Maybe. Maybe if I hadn't come along, if Zack hadn't introduced us like he did, Sephiroth would have just lost himself in his coldness. I don't know. All I do know is that… I made him happy. And I think that hurt worse than anything. Someone who did the things he did doesn't deserve happiness. Even I kind of think that, and I don't know the full extent of his crimes. He and his brothers…" He sighed, ran his hands through his hair, hooked them behind his neck, angled his chin up to stare at the ceiling. "Let's just say," he said tiredly, "that the word 'evil' is thrown around a lot. Evil actions, even if the guys themselves were capable of just as much humanity as the rest of us."

Leon thought about this for a moment, chewed slowly. "Was it always bad, then? Did Sephiroth start losing it from when you arrived on the scene romantically?"

Cloud shook his head. "It took a couple years. It was maybe halfway through the third one that I started noticing changes. Mood swings, the self-hatred really flaring up. I'd catch him muttering to himself – poisonous things. It's like I could feel the venom spreading to me just by listening. It was…" His gaze grew distant. "…this dark stain, growing larger with each month."

"And eventually it got too bad. You left," Leon supplied. He blew on his tea, took a sip, placing the knife down at last. He turned, mimicked Cloud's position, elbows at his ribs as he nursed the mug against his chest. Cloud nodded faintly.

"He hurt Zack that one time. He was hurting himself. I caught sight of some unusual bruises occasionally on his brothers… They were a real point of disgust to him. He extended the hatred to them. It was just another way of making it worse on himself. They were mirror-images of him, almost. I had to witness all their pain, every single one of them. Because – for some stupid reason…" His voice took on frustration. "They refused to leave him. No matter what he did, or said, they'd stay. They loved him too much to go, whereas I…" He faltered. "I loved him too much to stick around." He scowled. "This is why I get so sick of people riding my back over all this. I didn't leave because I didn't want the relationship to continue, I didn't do it because there was nothing left… I did it because it was wrecking me to stay there in that environment. Even knowing the consequences of my actions – I – I think I'd still go. I'd warn Zack to keep an eye out, but… Well," he murmured, "maybe I wouldn't even do that. I wouldn't want him caught in the cross-fire."

Leon watched him intently. "Do you still love Sephiroth? Is that why you're always playing with his tags? You – never stopped loving him?"

Cloud smiled bitterly. "No, Leon. I'm not that good a person. A good person would have loved him forever, even if they had to leave. But me… I enjoyed the freedom." He dropped his arms, wedged his hands against the bench, frowning, some part of him obviously still disturbed by his apparent ability to let go of the past. "I was happy for the first time in ages. Without having it shoved in my face every day, I – I sort of found it… easy to forget. Never completely, I still thought about them of course," he hastened to add. "I always hoped that Seph would come around. And naturally, it's not like my emotions towards him just went away, but… I don't know. It wasn't a relationship that could last. There was a lot more tension than love involved by that time, and it was so nice to just… let both fall away. I couldn't have one without the other, so… I chose abandonment." He shrugged, a little too carelessly to be genuine. "You can think I'm a bad, disloyal person if you want. I won't hold that against you. But you just don't know what it was like living that life. You don't know how much weight I lost from my shoulders, how much lighter I felt just by – by making a solid decision for once, and following through."

"…I don't think you did anything wrong," said Leon quietly. He eyed the blond. "So where was that lightness when you got to Hollow Bastion? You've only ever been depressed from what I could tell."

Cloud was quiet for a bit. "I'd been away for a few months by that point. I'd heard that Seph was tearing the world apart looking for me. He had a lot of contacts. And… I'd started hearing more about his behaviour, how off it was starting to seem, even publicly… I'm glad they covered it up," he said honestly. "It would have been so bad for morale. People really don't need to hear that everything they ever did for their country, their lead strategist and fighter destroyed himself over the horror of it all." He pursed his lips. "He was obsessed with avenging all the people he'd ever murdered. He didn't call it anything but murder, no matter how much his brothers tried to argue or correct him… Hell, even I tried – one of the times he nearly hit me."

"So all this – was his way of striking back for them?"

"Remove the head of the army," Cloud answered dully, "and the body will follow." He shook his head. "Anyway, that was around when his search for me reached a fever-pitch. He sent people after me. Turks. Some guy named Reno nearly got me about a week before I arrived here." He laughed briefly. "He had hair a little like Axel's. I nearly died when I first saw him in the castle, just wandering around."

Leon picked up the knife, started cutting the cheese cubes smaller, not really interested in eating anymore. "And then you got here. Neutral territory." He grunted. "I'm surprised you didn't think of it sooner. Even Turks have little jurisdiction here. You could have melted into the background and never been found." He glanced over shrewdly. "Unless maybe you wanted to be."

Cloud inclined his head, acceding the point. "Maybe I did. I don't really know what was going on in my head back then." He frowned, reached under his collar and slowly hooked out the necklace toting Sephiroth's battlefield identification. "It's so easy to look on it with clarity, now that I know it's over. Even with that guy who attacked Roxas and Axel coming around, saying the things he said… the Sephiroth period of my life is over."

"And yet you keep the tags," Leon reminded him in a murmur, thumb sweeping the arc of the ceramic cup.

Cloud sighed. "Yes. I do. I haven't thought of a good enough reason yet to get rid of them. Why should I? I'm not afraid to remember him – just – so long as he stays in my memories, where he belongs."

And… something in Cloud relaxed suddenly. Leon saw it happen, saw the tension leak away, siphoned off by some invisible external force. He fingered the tags, expression softening. He smiled, just the tiniest amount. "It's over now, anyway. He'll be fine."

Leon watched him carefully, lifted his mug to his lips. "And you?"

Cloud looked up, slightly surprised. "Me? Yeah – I'll be fine, too. I mean, I already am. I was just… shaken, I guess. It's not every day your best friend comes to tell you your ex is dead." He cast over a tentative look. "I guess I did need to talk." He smiled crookedly. "You people aren't so full of it, after all."

Leon snorted. "So generous of you." He lowered the cup, clacked it onto the counter with a smirk. "So, since you told me all this, does that make me your boyfriend now?"

It was said as a joke, reminding Cloud of his previous words, maybe just to rub it in a little… But, Cloud, he turned, hip angled against the counter, arms folded over his chest, a speculative look in his eyes. There was a pause, in which Leon began to realise that perhaps the blond hadn't read his tone right – fuck – but before he could correct the situation, Cloud asked, "Do you want to?"

Leon halted, the words dying in his mouth, leaving it hanging open with a whisper of air. He blinked rapidly, eyebrows drawing together, shock punching his brain into bloody, incoherent submission. The most intelligent word he could utter was, "…What?"

Cloud froze, realised that something had gone wrong in the last several seconds, some miscommunication had occurred. Panic flared to life, clutched his heart, sent all the blood draining away from his skin, despite the sudden and intense prickling burn he felt at his pulse points. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, faced with Leon's complete and utter incomprehension, and said quickly, "Forget it."

Heart thumping in his ears, he turned, tried to escape at a fast but stately walk, and was, for a third time, stopped by Leon, who nearly lunged to close the distance between them before Cloud could get too far. His fingers wrapped around the man's upper arm, jerking him back around, eyes impossibly wide. For once, the stoic air was cracked apart, a desperate, wild look in the brunet's gaze. Cloud was caught off-guard, almost frightened by the sudden change, tried to pull away, but a moment later his other arm was grabbed, and Leon was kissing him.

Cloud inhaled sharply, leaning back under the force of the man's mouth against his own, their teeth bumping, an almost painful intensity to it. Then he shifted slightly, returning the kiss, and the pain subsided. Leon's arms threaded around his waist, gripping him tightly, the pair of them staggering sideways against the counter, the brunet opening his mouth to gasp in some oxygen while Cloud's tongue continued to invade it. He pressed himself against the blond, their hips grinding momentarily, sparking a deep groan from each throat. Cloud's hands slid along his bare torso, slipped up to his shoulders and drew him closer, lying back almost horizontal, half on the stove as Leon grabbed the hem of his shirt and shoved it up, revealing the man's chest. Cloud suddenly exclaimed, "Ah!" as the brunet's fingers circled his nipples, jerking his hips against the blond. Then again, a moment later, "Ah! Fuck!" He lifted his face, a pained expression, and grunted, "Ow! Corner! Corner in my back!"

Panting, understanding remotely that the noises hadn't been of pleasure, Leon hooked his hands under Cloud's thighs and lifted him, seating him on the stovetop, slipping into the perfect v between his legs. They enveloped each other, Leon's hands sliding under the back of his shirt, calluses scratching the smooth pale skin, Cloud's arms wrapping around the back of his neck, moaning softly as Leon continued to thrust shallowly against him, some powerful, restrained force between them unleashed to electrify the air. Heavy breaths echoed through the empty hall, Cloud's face dropping into the hollow of the brunet's throat, tongue coming out to leave a shining trail. "Maybe… we should go to bed," he whispered faintly, biting his lip a moment later, eyes squeezing shut at the bolts of pleasure driving through to his fingertips. Leon agreed, "Maybe we should," and sped up his actions.

They were blind to the world, deaf to anything but each other, nothing existing but sensations of the flesh and a slowly building emotion, broken free from the twin cages they had been held in, swirling between their pores.

Which was why, when Axel and Roxas entered, they didn't notice, not even when the redhead, after perhaps a minute of the pair of them staring in shock, yelped, "That's our dry-humping stove!" He turned to Roxas incredulously, the blond's face bright red, hands covering his mouth and cheeks, eyes glued to the scene, hearing the low groans from all the way across the room. "Roxie! They're doing it on Aerith's stove!"

Finally, Roxas jammed the heels of his palms into his eyes, skin hot. "I know! Shut up!"

"I ought to give them a piece of my – " Roxas snatched at him hysterically as he started across the hall, dragged him back out into the corridor. For a moment, they stared at each other, wide-eyed. Then Roxas muttered, "I really wish I'd just kept sleep-walking."