~Nine~
"Strife, hang on," Johnny called after Cloud as he was headed through the lounge toward the hotel lobby.
For a moment Cloud considered ignoring him and continuing to walk away but he didn't. He stopped and turned around to face him again, crossing his arms defensively.
"Look, man, I get you're dealing with a lot," Johnny said as he stood in front of him. "That it's been anything but easy for you up to this point."
He looked away from Johnny, turning his gaze toward the floor instead.
"It's not really my business what you do or don't do to deal with it," his friend went on. "Maybe you think going out, drinking, messing around, whatever, is helping. Maybe you just don't care either way. Maybe you're just trying to stay distracted and ride whatever high you can get."
He paused a moment and Cloud finally looked up at him again.
"Whatever it's about, you need to know the difference between coping and crashing, 'cause what you think doesn't bother you right now or what you think doesn't matter...it may matter to you later," Johnny told him.
Cloud didn't know what to say to that. He couldn't argue it. He'd been so pre-occupied trying to use the present to snuff out the past that he hadn't really been thinking about how the things he'd been doing to distract himself might be things he looks back on later and regrets.
"I'm not looking to tell you what to do or not to do and I do have your back but I'm not going to help you lie and hide when you've got no reason to do that," Johnny went on.
"No reason?" Cloud replied. "You don't even know how much I..." He stopped, took a breath, looked around passively at some of the people in the room. "I'm not doing anything wrong, just things not everyone would understand," he said to Johnny finally.
"What? Drinking? Racing? Getting laid?" Johnny said. "It's not the things themselves that are a problem or difficult to understand, it's the reason you're doing what you're doing and the fact you're trying to hide it," he argued. "What are you afraid of?" he asked. "What do you think happens if you stop hiding and tell the truth?"
"I don't know," Cloud admitted. "What happens?"
"Maybe you have one less thing to stress about?" Johnny suggested. "Just a thought."
Perhaps he was right. Really, he knew Johnny was right. What was going to happen when he fessed up and told Zack about all the things he'd been up to? When Tifa found out? He'd already admitted to her that he'd been engaging in sex with other people and she hadn't freaked out or anything. Why was he so worried about Zack knowing? About any of it? Zack had told him time and time again that there was nothing he could do that was going to make him stop caring about him, or supporting him. He supposed it was just that he was scared to disappoint him, or to have him think less of him. Zack just seemed to be able to deal with his trauma so maturely. He didn't let it get in his way or control him.
"I shouldn't have asked you to lie for me," he said to Johnny after he let his words and the advice behind them sink in. "I'm sorry. It's not your problem, it's mine."
"Don't worry about it," Johnny said.
"Can you just give me a day or so to get my head straight, or whatever, and I'll talk to Zack?" he asked him and he nodded.
"Yeah, alright," he agreed.
"Thanks. I'll see you," Cloud said before turning to head away. As he headed left out from the lounge Johnny spoke up again.
"Hey," he said and he pointed to the right. "Elevators are that way, blue eyes," he told him with a barely apparent smug smirk.
"Screw off," Cloud shot back at him lightly.
He watched as Johnny turned to head back toward the bar before deciding to make his way toward the elevators. He wasn't in the mood anymore for some quick and casual intercourse but he thought he probably owed at least something to Marco before he went to the train station to head home.
When he stepped out of the elevator onto the fifth floor, it suddenly hit him why Johnny had made the comment 'big spender.' There appeared to only be four rooms on the top floor so they must have been suites. He actually had no idea how much a night cost there but he assumed those rooms on the fifth floor must be the priciest.
He sought out 502 and knocked on the door lightly, actually feeling a little nervous, even if he didn't really care one way or another what the guy's reaction was going to be when he talked to him. It was a few seconds before he heard the sound of someone near the door and finally it was opening. Marco was there, still dressed but his shoes were off. He almost seemed surprised to see him.
"Hey," he greeted with a bright smile, stepping back and holding the door open for him to enter the room. "I thought for sure you must have ditched me," he said as he shut the door gently.
For a moment Cloud just looked around the room. It was a suite, as he'd suspected. Not as spacious as he would have imagined but any hotel room where you weren't faced immediately with the same layout of two double beds side-by-side and some hideous art print hanging on the wall above the beds was pretty refreshing and interesting to look at. There was a bathroom to his right, a closet, and a couch and some chairs facing a large flat television screen. He could see a door that led into some kind of short hallway-kitchen-like combo with a counter, microwave and mini fridge and beyond that looked to be the bedroom.
"Yeah, um. I'm sorry," he said, moving his eyes back to Marco, "but I don't think I'm up for 'sleeping' with you tonight after all," he told him straight. "It's not anything you did," he was quick to add. "I'm just not feeling it now. But, uh, you know I'll go down on you so you don't feel like leaving the bar with me was for nothing," he informed him.
Marco seemed confused. "What the hell are you talking about?" he said back. "You don't have to do anything at all if you're not feeling it," he argued. "You changed your mind, it's not a big deal. It happens."
His response actually surprised Cloud a little. The guy wasn't angry or offended at all. He wasn't aggressively insisting or whining that he get at least something from him to get him off before the end of the night.
"Oh," was all he could come up with in return at first. "Okay. Well, sorry," he repeated as he reached for the handle of the door so he could open it and leave.
"You don't have to leave though," Marco told him. "It's late now, just stay and hang out, or sleep," he suggested. "I'll drive you home in the morning, or I guess later in the morning."
"Hang out?" Cloud replied. What was the point?
"Yeah. I like company," Marco said with a light shrug.
"I'm not good company," Cloud stated.
"Well, I doubt you're bad company," Marco countered. "Come on. There's mini alcohols and snacks and probably a terrible movie or some kind of science documentary to watch."
He stared back at Marco, not really knowing what to say or do. He didn't trust him and yet he also didn't feel like he was a threat. Was he trying to trick him? Was he just trying to get him to let his guard down as some kind of game? To what end? It seemed like he was being sincere. He just didn't get it. Why would he want him to just hang out? They didn't know each other at all. What were the chances that the guy would turn out to be a total creep? He figured the chance was slim and even if things got weird, Johnny knew he was there and Johnny knew who the guy was if something happened to him…
"Come on," Marco urged. "I'd say no pressure, but I'm clearly pressuring you."
"I guess, fine," he gave in through a tired sigh. He supposed it wasn't the worst thing, spending a few hours in a hotel suite with some guy who seemed to like to talk as much as Zack did rather than going home to wait for his next panic attack.
He took off his boots and walked ahead of Marco as he guided him through the suite to the bedroom area, a hand lightly touching his upper back. The guy was taller than him by a few inches and he felt his hand move to the back of his head in something of a warm or friendly gesture but he was quick to swat the hand back from him.
"You mind not petting me?" he said sharply.
"Sorry," Marco replied through a light laugh. "You've got good hair," he commented.
"I know, don't touch it," Cloud fired back at him.
Marco lingered back by the fridge while Cloud stood just inside the bedroom area and looked around. The room had a king-sized bed and another bathroom across from where he was standing. He could see some of Marco's belongings, a suitcase open on the floor in front of an armchair and some clothes draped over the chair as well.
"Alright if I use your bathroom?" he called back to Marco.
"Of course," he said. "I'm going to grab some ice," he added.
Cloud heard the door to the suite opening and closing as he headed into the bathroom. While he was in there he took out his phone to quickly answer some messages. He'd last been talking to Reno when Marco interrupted back at the bar. For a while after he stopped responding, Reno had sent him some random texts, mostly just insulting him but also questioning if he was just busy working or if maybe he really was off doing cocaine and cautioned him against snorting off of toilet surfaces, even if he was good at cleaning them.
Rick had also messaged and asked where he'd disappeared to. He told him that he'd left with someone. He didn't say who. Zack had texted him as well, wishing him a good shift at work and saying he'd call him sometime later in the morning. He texted him back a reply telling him 'Thanks' and to have a 'Good night.' He stood for a few minutes staring at his response and feeling suddenly tempted to spill everything he'd been hiding right then and there.
I have to tell you something, he typed out with his fingers. He didn't hit send. He erased the message and replaced it with, im at a hotel right now with someone. He erased that. i'm a liar, he typed next and again erased it. I know I should just be happy that we are alive and free but I've never felt so fucking messed up and alone. Nothing fixes it and no one not even you can do a thing about it.
The sound of the suite door opening and closing again made him look up at the bathroom door next to him. He stared into his own reflection in the mirror and shook his head at himself.
"You're pathetic," he muttered aloud.
He set his phone down on the counter and turned on the taps, gathering some water in his hands to put to his face. He used one of the towels folded on a nearby shelf to dry his face and hands and focused his attention on the few items on the counter that he assumed must belong to Marco. One of the items was a small bottle on cologne. He hadn't detected that night that Marco had been wearing any kind of cologne but maybe he hadn't put on any that day. He carefully picked up the bottle and took the cap off the top.
The smell was different than he'd been expecting. He knew what he'd been expecting and it sent a chill through him. He'd expected the scent that Rand had worn. The one he'd always seemed to wear. He swore he could still smell it but at the same time couldn't remember exactly what it was like. The man hadn't had it on when he'd come to the college to talk to him. He felt nauseous suddenly.
Re-capping and setting the bottle back down on the counter, he grabbed his phone and opened the bathroom door to exit the room.
"There you are," Marco said as Cloud was heading in the direction of the doorway out of the bedroom.
He looked over to his left where the guy was sitting up on the bed, his back resting on some pillows against the headboard. His expression became concerned suddenly.
"You okay? You look kind of pale," he said as he got up from the bed to approach him.
"I'm fine," Cloud said.
"You want some water?" Marco asked him, motioning to a table against the wall where he'd set out some of the small bottles of alcohol he'd mentioned earlier with some cans of soft drinks and bottles of water next to an ice bucket.
"Maybe I'll just have the vodka," he told him. "It's like water, right?"
"In so much as it's clear?" Marco replied, watching him as he picked up one of the miniature bottles and twisted the cap off it. "Definitely," he agreed.
He drank down the shot of liquor with some difficulty, and it was obvious from his face as Marco chuckled a little at his expression.
"If I had to guess I'd say you prefer clear liquor."
He heard the words and knew they hadn't come from Marco. That he heard them at all had his blood running cold. The words had come from Sephiroth's mouth. An echo from the past that pulled him back to that luxury suite that served as the former general's prison in Gongaga.
No, he responded in his own head. He forced his mind to refocus on where he was. He wasn't in Gongaga. He wasn't trapped with Sephiroth. He wasn't in any danger. He was fine. No one was making him do what he was doing. He had decided to go to that hotel. It was his decision.
"Your eyes really are crazy blue, you know that?" Marco said to him. He was standing right in front of him. "They're like…alien or something," he spoke softly with awe. "I've never seen anything like it."
Alien. Inhuman. Even Marco could see that there was something wrong with him. He started to drop his eyes at same time Marco's one hand went to his head again, only this time it was like he was preparing to lean in and kiss him. If indeed that's what Marco was about to do, Cloud didn't know because he quickly had him distracted when he was starting to unfasten the belt Marco was wearing. There was no way the guy was really satisfied just hanging out with him. He didn't believe that and rather than wait to find out how and when Marco would make it clear he still wanted what he'd expected from him that night he decided to take charge and get it over with.
Marco looked down at where Cloud's hands were, a little surprised at the move he was making. Cloud started moving him backward as he was working at undoing Marco's pants. At the foot of the bed, Marco was urged to sit down. Leaning forward over him, Cloud ran his hands down Marco's thighs to his knees as he started to crouch himself down in front of him.
He glanced back up to look him in the face, to see if he seemed into what was going on. He was terrified by what he found looking back at him. It was Rand, looking down at him in anticipation. Looking at him with expectation and approval. He threw his head back with an expression of pleasure across his features. He opened his mouth to say something, but it wasn't his voice. It was Sephiroth's
"You're much better at that than you are at talking."
The man was reaching forward to take hold of his arms then. He looked down at the hand that was clutching his left upper arm. He was wearing a ring.
"Hey, you alright?" he was being asked and he realized suddenly he wasn't crouching or kneeling. He was sitting on the carpet like he'd just lost his balance and fallen backward. Marco was holding his arms.
"Shit," he spoke under his breath, bringing his right hand to his eyes to cover them a moment. "Yeah," he replied. He was fine. Rand wasn't there. Sephiroth wasn't there. Don't think about them or you'll freak out, he told himself.
"Come up here and sit down," Marco ordered him as he helped him up off the floor. "You're kind of freaking me out," he told him. "You didn't take something I should know about when you were in the bathroom did you?" Marco asked him, concerned he had consumed some kind of narcotic.
"No," he said sharply, pulling his arm out of his hold. "I'm tired," he told him. It wasn't untrue.
"So then relax, moron," Marco threw back at him. "Go to sleep. I'll tuck you in if you want," he joked.
"I'll pass," Cloud replied. He did accept that he needed to sit down for a while though.
Liquor hit him hard on the medication he was taking. It's why he stuck to light beer. He could feel hammered off of one shot after a few minutes, especially if he hadn't eaten in a while. He sat himself on the bed with his head against the wall above the headboard and watched Marco as he took off his jeans and draped them over the nearby chair with the rest of the clothing there. He had on just his boxers and t-shirt then when he moved a few things from the table against the wall to the one nightstand. He picked up his phone that he'd set down on the long dresser near the base of the television resting on the top of it. He smiled before he began texting something.
"A buddy messaged me a little while ago," he revealed when he glanced up and noticed Cloud looking his way. "Asked if I hooked up with anyone. I said yes because you know, I'm feeling like I got pretty lucky," he said, smiling.
"Your lines are lame, you know that right?" Cloud said back.
"And yet, here you are," Marco countered.
"You think maybe it's 'cause I'm not picky?"
"Oh my god," Marco said through a dry laugh as Cloud smirked a little. "You're brutal."
Marco came to join him, sitting on the bed next to him and flipping through some channels on the television to find whatever movie might have been playing that seemed worth wasting some time on. The guy encouraged him to get more comfortable but it took a little while before he finally gave in and sank a little lower down on the mattress, his head and shoulders propped against a few pillows.
It wasn't as awkward sitting with a complete stranger, just hanging out, as he thought it was going to be, maybe partly because he was feeling a little drunk and also because Marco talked a lot. It wasn't really annoying. He was just pointing out and questioning things in the weird action movie they landed on. A lot of what he said was actually pretty funny.
He'd been sipping some water for a while when Marco offered him a choice of another selection from the mini liquor assortment that he passed up.
"It makes me tired," he told him honestly. "Can't have any more or I'll fall asleep on you." He actually could have fallen asleep if he let himself. He wasn't even really sure why he was trying to avoid it.
"You can fall asleep on me," Marco told him. "I'm a cuddler."
Cloud scoffed to that. "No thanks," he said.
"Offer stands," was all Marco spoke in return.
He didn't know at what point he actually did fall asleep, or what time it was when he finally drifted off. The evening was temporarily erased from his memory by the heavy slumber he found himself waking up from. He actually thought he was at home when he started coming around. He felt the warmth of a human form next to him and against the side of his face and under his one arm as he was holding onto it, pressed against it. He thought it was Zack. It wasn't until he opened his eyes and didn't recognize his surroundings that he realized he wasn't at home and it wasn't Zack lying next to him. He was so startled then that in the process of sitting himself up quickly, his hand pressed hard enough against the form next to him to illicit a sudden shocked sound.
Marco. It was Marco. The guy he'd left the bar with the night before. His brain was quick to remind him. It put him a little at ease but not fully. He couldn't actually believe where he was and that he'd stayed there. It was light in the room.
"You scared the shit out of me," Marco told him groggily, his eyes covered over by his one arm he draped over his face.
"Sorry," Cloud said. He looked around a moment to get his bearings. The room looked a little different in daylight. He was looking for a clock to check the time. "I didn't mean to get up in your space," he told Marco. He couldn't see a clock anywhere.
"I don't mind," Marco replied. "I told you I was a cuddler," he reminded Cloud as he lowered his arm and looked up at him, squinting through the light a little. "But man, I didn't peg you for one." he remarked. "Forget where you were?" he asked as Cloud was moving himself to the edge of the bed to get off it. "Happens to me all the time when I travel."
"What time is it?" Cloud asked and Marco lifted his left arm to look at a watch he had on his wrist.
"Early still," he said. Rolling his eyes at the response, Cloud rounded the bed and took hold of his arm, pulling it toward him so he could read the face of the watch.
"I need to go," he told Marco.
"Whoa, there's no hurry. Have breakfast here first and I'll take you home," the guy tried to tell him.
"No I, uh, have to be back home now," he told him while running his hands through his hair to smooth it. He looked around for his boots, not remembering where he'd pulled them off.
"Why?" Marco asked.
"Because," he told him. "There's..." he looked back at him. "I have medication I have to take. It's at home," he said, not able to come up with any other reason but the truth.
"Oh. Alright, no problem. I'll get changed," Marco told him.
He shook his head. "I'll just go to the train station." He patted at his pockets, realizing his phone wasn't it them and proceeded to start checking the bed. He was starting to feel panicked.
"Man, don't act like you don't like that car I rented," Marco said as he was standing next to the chair in the room, looking for some pants to put on. "The ride beats the train and you know it."
Cloud was most ignoring him, too focused on trying to find his phone amongst the bedding. He felt like he was going to be launched into a full-scale anxiety attack if he didn't find it and get out of that suite in the next few minutes. Finally, he saw the edge of his phone and reached for it.
"You don't have to—" Marco was saying to him just before he took hold of his arm to get his attention.
"What the hell?!" Cloud exclaimed loud enough to shock Marco as he turned to face him fast. He opened his hand to let him go at the same time Cloud was jerking abruptly away from him.
"Sorry," Marco said fast. "I didn't mean to—"
"I'm fine making my own way home," Cloud told him angrily then. "You don't have to keep up with the whole nice-guy act like we fucked or anything," he said, his tone accusatory. "Even if we did, I wouldn't expect you to get me home like it's the morning after a goddamn prom night or something."
Marco looked completely dumbstruck by his reaction. He immediately regretted what he knew was a clear overreaction he hadn't been able to control but it seemed too late to try to explain or apologise.
"Hey, will you relax," Marco finally responded after the initial shock. He didn't try to put a hand on him again but he did try to step in front of him to keep him from running out on him. "Take a deep breath, will you?" he suggested and Cloud found himself doing so, though only because the mention of it made him feel he needed it. He took a few steps backward and sat himself back down on the end of the bed. He put his head in his hands and took another couple breaths to calm himself.
"Man. That medication isn't for some kind of rage disorder is it?" Marco asked him after a moment. "Holy hell," the guy breathed out from in front of him. "You look even cuter in the daylight," he said. Cloud looked up at him from his hands, giving him sharp stare. "Has the beast subsided?" Marco questioned with a teasing grin.
"Shut up," Cloud said as he shook his head.
"Can I take you home now?" the man asked him.
"Fine," he agreed, giving in. It would be faster anyway.
When the valet attendant brought around Marco's rental, he realized it was actually a nice shade of metallic blue. He hadn't been able to tell or just hadn't noticed the night before.
"You want to drive?" Marco asked him and he scoffed.
"Yes," he said as though it were a given. "I can't though," he told him.
"Why?" Marco asked next, about to try to open the passenger side door for him and stopping when Cloud gave him a warning look. He smirked and headed around to the driver's side.
"I'm not licensed," Cloud said when they were both inside the car.
"What?!" Marco blurted in response. "Are you kidding me? All you have's a bike license?"
"I don't even have that," he revealed.
"Why?" Marco asked as he started them moving away from the hotel entrance.
"Just never got one," he said simply.
"You have no idea what you're missing," Marco argued. "It's freedom. I'm telling you. Driving here in the city sucks but out on the open road...You can go anywhere at any time, feel the wind...You need to fix that. Where we headed?" he asked.
"Slums," Cloud replied. "What do you actually do for business?" he asked. He already had some idea after what Johnny had told him, but so far Marco hadn't actually given any details pertaining to who he really was or what he did.
"Well, my family has a fabrication company," he said first.
"You in the business of lying?" Cloud questioned, earning a look of amusement.
"Hilarious," Marco said. "We engineer and build parts to order, usually for machinery, but also vehicles. We own a bike brand. You may have heard of it, WhipCat."
"Seriously?" Cloud said. He did know the brand and suddenly he felt dumb for not asking before.
"Recognize it," Marco asked.
"Uh, yeah," Cloud said. Anyone who'd been at a race would. "So you do have money," he commented.
"You sure nailed me good—well, you know what I mean," Marco joked. "I don't know though. I'm not like rolling in a bed of cash every night. Family and company money aren't exactly like having lottery winnings or anything. My family would make sure I have dick-all if I weren't working my ass off."
"What's your job in the business?" Cloud questioned, actually a little interested to know.
"On the fabrication side of things, accounting mostly, some sales," Marco revealed. "Real exciting stuff," he said at Cloud's raised eyebrow expression. "On the branding side, scouting and contract negotiations. And also accounting, can't really get away from it."
"Must keep you busy," Cloud remarked.
Once they were in the slums, he gave Marco the directions to his apartment. He wasn't particularly happy about having him see it, but he figured he wasn't seeing him again so what did it really matter?
"This is it, huh?" Marco said when they were parked across the street on the side of the road.
"Don't let the outside fool you, it's just as ugly inside too," Cloud told him as he unbuckled his seatbelt, making Marco laugh a little.
"Yeah? You wanna show me?" he asked. Cloud thought about it a second but was really just thinking of how to say no as politely as he could.
"I should just—" he started to say and Marco looked away from him, smiling.
"Yeah, I got it," he said, nodding. "I had fun with you," he remarked, looking him in the eyes once more. "You're wrong. You are good company."
Feeling a bit awkward, Cloud opened the door next to him. "Thanks for the ride, and the actual sleep, I guess," he said before shutting the door again. He had to walk past the front of the car to cross the road to head into the apartment. Marco called to him when he was starting to cross the empty road.
"Hey!" he called and Cloud turned back. "I'm here the rest of the week," he told him.
"Yeah?" Cloud replied in question, even though the meaning behind the revelation was clear.
"We should hang out again," Marco said. Cloud sighed a little, looking down the road each way, not sure what to say or do. "Pass me your phone," the man instructed. After a moment he did as he was told and walked back up to the driver's side to give it to him. He knew Marco was about to enter his number into the phone. He really had no intention of calling him though. "You got my number," he said, handing him the phone back. "I'll leave it up to you."
With a short nod and a brief tight smile, he backed away from the car and started heading to the apartment. He listened to the sound of the car idling behind him before he heard a sudden revving. He rolled his eyes, not looking back.
"Later, blue eyes!" Marco called out after him.
Inside his apartment he took his medication and sat down heavily on the couch. He looked at his phone and saw that Marco had put his number in under the name "Marco is the King of pickup lines." He shook his head as he read it.
"Dumbass," he spoke aloud with a small smile.
He opened up his text conversation with Zack then and right away he noticed the message he'd typed into the bottom but never intended to send. He must have been so distracted he forgot to erase the message from the box he'd typed it into
I know I should just be happy that we are alive and free but I've never felt so fucking messed up and alone. Nothing fixes it and no one not even you can do a thing about it.
"You really are pathetic," he told himself as he tapped his screen to get ready to erase the message. Instead though, he hit the send button. "Oh, god, no," he exclaimed when he watched the message pop up under his last message to Zack. He began to write a follow-up message immediately, stumbling with his spelling and having to backspace repeatedly as he was freaking out. He took too long. His phone started vibrating in his hand and Zack's name came across his screen indicating he was calling him.