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Cloud swears he did it on accident.
It was reflex. Old reflex that he hasn’t had the urge to do in a while and was horribly timed while they’re trying to cut down the monster population around the village. But they’re in Nibelheim and his helmet is off so he can breathe and Sephiroth was knelt on the ground near him, about to say farewell as they split off, and Cloud just. Does it.
Cloud Strife, infantryman of the 17th division of Shinra, failed SOLDIER applicant, and country-hick olden raised dumbass, leans over to kiss Sephiroth’s cheek as they agree to part ways.
“Yessir,” he rushes out right after the fact, and too mortified to say anything else, rushes into the direction he and Zack were ordered to go in.
Zack follows him, laughing it up the whole way.
“Did you just kiss Seph?” Zack asks incredulously through his laughter, slinging an arm over Cloud’s shoulders.
Cloud thinks his brain is about to melt through his ears.
“Habit,” Cloud hisses, mind whirring in a panic. “Oh my god, was that assault of an officer?”
“Habit? Seriously? How come you’ve never kissed me?”
“Zack, shut up, what if I lose my job?”
“Hey! I’m serious, why don’t I get goodbye kisses?!”
“Zack!”
The SOLDIER stops when Cloud breaks away from under his arm, hands clenching and unclenching rapidly, eyes wide with panic.
“I’m being serious too,” Cloud grits out, feeling like he’ll jitter out of his skin any moment. Being back in Nibel has already had him on edge, and this is his first time taking his helmet off since he got here, and of course he went and did something completely stupid the moment it was off. “I already didn’t make SOLDIER. I can’t get kicked out of Shinra, too.”
Zack’s teasing grin falls away and he approaches Cloud with his hands up, like he’s calming a wild animal. His eyes still dance with mirth. Cloud scowls at him bitterly, then Zack clears his throat around another snicker before he talks.
“Listen, I highly doubt Seph is going to get you fired,” Zack tries to placate him. “Let’s just finish this up Spike, let you get a few shots off to help the nerves, and I’ll talk to him when we get back. If he’s even thinking of it, which he definitely isn’t, I’ll make sure he doesn’t fire you. ‘Kay?”
Cloud tongues the inside of his mouth, still scowling and still skittish, but he nods jerkily and turns on a heel.
“Okay.”
It is a very good thing Sephiroth is already on his knees. His legs very suddenly feel as though they would not work if he were to rely on them.
His ears start ringing first, his entire body freezing as the infantryman’s lips come into contact with his cheek. Sephiroth faintly registers that both he and Lieutenant Fair leave the area and head in the direction they were instructed, their footfalls faint in his ears.
Faint. Yes, Sephiroth feels rather faint.
The echo of the gentle press of soft skin, slightly chapped, is loud. The lingering heat seems to radiate from his cheek outward. Is his skin on fire? The sensation isn’t the same as being consumed by fire, which he has been familiar with, yet he burns. Sephiroth raises a shaky hand to his cheek. There is no smell of burning leather.
It’s coming from within him.
His other leg falls from where he was going to push up to a stand, sinking down into a full kneel on the forest floor. What did that infantryman, Cadet Strife, that’s—what did Cadet Strife do to him? Why is he in this state? What was that?
Sephiroth drags in a heavy breath, a stronger one than he’s taken after defeating a hundred men, deeper than when he’s single-handedly seized enemy fortresses. Why is he so winded? His chest feels tight. He brings his hand down, clutching at the leather over his rapidly beating heart until it creaks.
What did Cadet Strife do to him?
Sephiroth counts the seconds to time his breaths by and it takes him 342 seconds to regain enough of his composure and stability from whatever spell was cast on him to get to his feet and head in the opposite direction of the other two. His knees are horribly weak, an unfamiliar and discomforting feeling
He is not fleeing, despite the hurried tempo of his stride. He is making up for lost time. They are supposed to be commencing a pincher move on a Nibel dragon nest, and Sephiroth is supposed to strike first to begin the mission. He is holding up the mission. That is why he moves so quickly.
Sephiroth tells himself that as he begins to speed, flitting about the Nibel woods, heart thumping loudly in his ears and his skin still damningly hot.
He needs to talk to Lieutenant Fair.
—
The mission goes well.
Cutting them down is leisurely for Sephiroth, enough so he can watch Cadet Strife from the corner of his eye. He’s good with his rifle. Some of the shots he takes are surprisingly close to Sephiroth, considering his rank, but they’re made confidently and find their mark. It’s of little consequence to Sephiroth—(friendly fire would do little damage to him from a rifle of that caliber, and the most discipline Sephiroth would give would be a scolding look and a strong advisement to the cadet’s superiors that he not be supporting fire)—and it’s not what he’s observing Cadet Strife for in the first place.
Magic use.
He either makes a point not to rely on it or he doesn’t have a great deal of mana, and Sephiroth is leaning towards the former. What few spells he casts, favoring lightning and ice respectively, are cast with skill and impeccable accuracy. Cadet Strife is very good at what he does, if a bit understated by his company and how Sephiroth and Lieutenant Fair are very proficient at what they do.
The struggle Sephiroth is faced with is what he does with this information. On one hand, this could be supporting evidence that Cadet Strife is capable of higher magics, possibly unclassified and therefore black magics, and is choosing to hide that capability. How he would benefit from this, Sephiroth doesn’t know. On the other hand, this could be evidence of the cadet having experience with mana conservation tactics, practiced often by support troopers. It can easily go either way. Sephiroth does not have enough information.
“Whew!” Lieutenant Fair jogs up beside Sephiroth with his standard wide grin. Sephiroth politely turns to meet him, though his eyes stay above him and in the distance. “Nice warm up! Getting up the mountain should be easy-peasy!”
He stares up at the mountains, the reactor nestled between brown and grey crags like a metal egg in a nest of rock. In his peripheral, Cadet Strife shifts, a shock of blonde hair on the wind, infantry blues and scarf green.
“We’ll be making the trip alone,” Sephiroth decides executively. His gaze darts down from where he’d been studying the line of the Nibel Mountains’ peaks, colliding with Cadet Strife’s bright blue eyes. “Cadet. Return to the village. We’ll reconvene by nightfall.”
Sephiroth’s heart speeds, which is irrational. It speeds, and Cadet Strife’s eyes don’t glow with any magic, so he must conclude it’s sheer anticipation raising his heart rate. Anticipation and expectation, another irrational picture of the cadet somehow crossing the distance between them, somehow expecting that Cadet Strife’s lips will find a way to collide with his skin again and cast that spell, render him helpless in a way nothing before ever has.
Cadet Strife salutes, gives a tight-lipped affirmative, and about-faces right into the forest.
“Uhhhh.” Fair comes up beside him, voice tentative. “Seph? What was that for?”
“I’ll inform you on the way,” Sephiroth says definitively, turning as well to begin their trek. “Come, Fair.”
“Didn’t I say call me Zack?” The rhythmic thumps of Lieutenant Fair jogging to catch up ensues, then he pulls in front, ducking his head down with a teasing grin. “Hold on, was that a dog joke? You can’t call me Zack now but we’re still making puppy jokes? Come on, dude.”
“I had no intention of joking,” Sephiroth replies honestly.
He thinks his lip quirks a bit in betrayal, and Zack makes a dramatic scoff of affront.
Unlike most of the easily peeved rich men of fragile egos that Sephiroth has grown accustomed to, he never has to doubt when Zack Fair is being playful and when he is not. It is refreshing. Now that he thinks on it, it feels rather odd that he’d started calling him Lieutenant again. Despite the circumstances under which they grew close, Sephiroth did hope to consider him a friend.
How odd.
“Zack,” Sephiroth begins slowly. The other man hums as they trek onwards, eagerly taking point. Sephiroth will inevitably have to grab him by the shoulder and redirect him when they need to turn, but he finds he does not mind. “Cadet Strife. I have some questions about him.”
“Oh, you want to know more about Spike?” Zack spins around to walk backwards, looking positively delighted. Sephiroth tries to keep his face neutral in the onslaught of sunlight. “Ooooh, whatcha wanna know, big guy?”
“Could you give me a summary of his skill set?” Sephiroth asks. Zack’s brows raise, and when he opens his mouth, Sephiroth guiltily interrupts. Only because it’s unlikely he’ll get an opening to talk once Zack starts. “And is Spike his name? Spike Strife?”
“Oh no no no, nickname, nah, his name is Cloud Strife,” Zack hastens to correct, scratching the back of his neck as he continues to walk backwards. Sephiroth glances down at his feet as they go on, walking a half-second faster. “So uh, he’s really good with the rifle, you saw that. He’s a great eagle eye, can monitor a whole field much easier than most guys. He’s also a really good strategist but I think he doubts himself too much, so he’ll come up with great shit to do and then second guess himself right after, so he’ll get choice paralysis on the field sometimes. I’ve only seen it happen twice though, and he snaps out pretty quick. We’re still working on his sword work and honestly, he’s not great with it, but I think he’s trying to force a style like what I do with the Buster and y’know, you’ve seen him, he’s not even the same weight class as me, but I told him he can do anything he wants so I’m trying not to discourage him from—”
“What about his magic abilities?” Sephiroth finally cuts in. It seems he’ll need to lead to get the information he wants. “Anything in particular in that area?”
Cloud Strife, Sephiroth repeats mentally for later research. Cloud Strife.
“Uhhh, I don’t think oh shit—”
Zack proceeds to trip over a protruding root, just as Sephiroth knew he would, and Sephiroth quickly crosses the gap between them to catch Zack by the collar before he falls. He sets Zack back on his feet and takes the opportunity to turn him in the direction they need to begin heading.
“Thanks man,” Zack breathes out, laughing and scratching his head sheepishly. “My bad.”
“I suggest walking forwards,” Sephiroth comments evenly, impassive when Zack pouts at him. “Cloud Strife’s magic abilities?
“Oh! Yeah, so he’s good at it, don’t get me wrong,” Zack says over his shoulder as he heeds advice and walks the direction he’s facing. Well. ‘Walks’ is generous. He starts hopping in long strides from side to side on the path, and Sephiroth follows him with his eyes and faint amusement. “But like, he doesn’t like that he’s good at it? I mean, hands down best caster in his division probably, but he won’t take the classes, won’t get any official positions or training, just brushes it off because I guess that’s not what he wants to do?”
“So he dislikes magic?” Sephiroth is audibly confused.
“Ehhh I wouldn’t say that either.” Zack proceeds to do an impromptu hopscotch over pieces of lichen on the forest floor. Sephiroth does not understand how the man’s mind works. “More like he doesn’t like that it’s what he’s good at when he’s got so much other shit he wants to be good at. Magic is a good SOLDIER skill but it’s not really what you hear about most when it comes to us.”
“He wants to be a SOLDIER,” Sephiroth notes.
“Oh yeah,” Zack confirms easily, throwing a grin over his shoulder. “And you didn’t hear it from me, but you’re huge for him, y’know? You’re why he came from all the way out here to Midgar in the first place. Wants to be just like you.”
“Hm,” Sephiroth responds evenly, and therefore ends the conversation.
Fans are not uncommon, but that in itself doesn’t matter as much as what category this information has successfully filled: Incentive. Perhaps he is one of many fans whose admiration has gone sour, worship turning to envy. It’s not uncommon. If Cloud Strife can get some sort of advantage over Sephiroth, perhaps he wants to use it to get into the SOLDIER program. How exactly that would be utilized, Sephiroth can’t quite predict with his current collection of data, but it’s a reasonable motive and conclusion.
After all, Cloud brought the strongest SOLDIER on the Planet lower than his knees, into total immobilization, with nothing more than a press of his lips. What couldn’t he accomplish with an ability like that?
He brings it up no longer the rest of the way up the mountain and into the reactor, but it plays in the back of his mind. Cloud Strife’s name, over and over, even as they go past test tubes that horrify Sephiroth, even as he does his best to compartmentalize, he wonders. It haunts him more than his new thoughts, the memory of their skin colliding, the wonder at how after years of going undefeated, he has been heeled by a mere infantryman.
Even as he reads the nameplate of Jenova, even as he looks down at his body and muses on his origin, he wonders.
Who are you, Cloud Strife, to defeat me so easily? Sephiroth raises his hands, looking at them numbly and wondering what is in the blood and viscera he is intimately familiar with, yet has never shed on a blade that was not Hojo’s. If I am what I am, and I am not born of man, what are you?
Cloud is freaking the fuck out.
Sephiroth has holed up in the Shinra mansion, and Zack has claimed he’s been unable to get him out. Nothing’s bringing him out, not requests from the villagers, not food, not water, not even a bathroom break, from what Zack says.
Cloud doesn’t know what they saw up at the reactor, but it’s visibly shaken both of them. Cloud’s gotten minor details from Zack, and all he’s getting is that it’s probably something that is either already classified or is about to end up classified. Zack’s ready to admit he doesn’t fully get what’s going on either, but it’s easy to tell it’s huge.
Neither of them know what to do. Which is why they really need Sephiroth up here with them and not down there doing fuck knows what.
So yeah. That’s why Cloud’s at the top of a long, dusty ass staircase, holding a plate wrapped in foil to keep the food beneath warm, freaking the fuck out because there are no lights on the way down and the railing on the side of the stairs looks like it survived a cremation but might die from a badly aimed fart.
He takes a deep, shaky breath, and takes the first step down.
It’s nerve-wracking the whole way down, and he feels out each step with his foot, some of them creaking dangerously as he does so. Plus, it’s not like he’s scared as shit to have his first intereaction with his superior of superiors after he non-consensually kissed him! Yeah, he just assaulted the Demon of Wutai! No biggie, right? No stress? Totally!
Cloud’s fighting not to throw up on the food in his hands from the sheer amount of anxiety in his stomach.
His only consolation is knowing that Zack’s heavy ass has thundered up and down these steps several times over and they haven’t given up the ghost yet. It is with that and repeated prayers to Shiva for preservation and rebirth that he makes it down the stairs, letting out a relieved sigh when the lanterns over the doors act as guiding lights through the cave like hallway.
Mad gothic for their backwater town, but okay.
He heads down the hallway, tripping a few times over the surprisingly rocky floor, looking for the very last door as directed. It’s faintly lit from within, the dance of orange light and soft crackles suggesting a fireplace. Cloud takes a deep steadying breath and shifts the plate weighed down by Zack’s meal choices for fuck-ass SOLDIER metabolism onto one arm, and raises his hand to knock.
Three times, his knuckles thud on old wood. It echoes eerily down the cave walls. Cloud waits with bated breath because damn that was loud and are they sure there isn’t something else living down here?
He looks behind him into the dark apprehensively, the distance between the lanterns a lot farther than he remembered. If he looks too hard, he thinks he’ll find something looking back at him. The door creaks, and he slowly goes to turn back around, ready to ask his superior if he sees anything—
Cloud yelps as he’s suddenly yanked forward, a hand knotted in his scarf, then slammed against the door as it shuts. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sharp change in light, and then he looks up with an undignified noise that makes him want to burn to a crisp with how hard he starts to blush.
Sephiroth is looming over him, one arm on the wall, eyes glowing brightly through the shadow he casts. Cloud swallows thickly, eyes darting down and then back up because holy shit his chest is right there and it’s just out? It’s like, right there? Cloud isn’t sure if he’s blessed or cursed to be this height because holy shit he’s literally right in Sephiroth’s tits. Fuck, that sounded so wrong to even think.
“What did you do to me?” Sephiroth says lowly.
Cloud’s prior scare in the hallway isn’t helping the sense of terror in his blood as he stares up at Sephiroth, wide-eyed. Both his hands press back against the door his back is to as he gulps nervously. It also isn’t until then that he realizes he very much lost the plate he was meant to deliver.
“Oh shit, I was supposed to give you—”
“This?” Sephiroth’s other hand appears, balancing the plate perfectly, and Cloud breathes out in relief then promptly feels faint. That’s really scary and really hot and Cloud thinks he’s getting a lot of wires crossed right now. “Irrelevant. Answer my question.”
“I’m sorry,” Cloud blurts. It’s been on his mind and honestly, he’s both terrified and relieved to have such a clear opportunity to get it off his chest. “I’m so sorry, I really shouldn’t have kissed you. It’s uh, an old Nibel custom, for greetings and farewells, but you didn’t see it coming and you’re not Nibel and I really shouldn’t have done it—”
“Kissed?” Sephiroth murmurs, so low Cloud almost doesn’t catch it in the middle of his apology. Once he processes it, he stops dead in the middle of his sentence.
“Yeah,” Cloud repeats, clearing his throat and avoiding eye contact with the SOLDIER over him. “I’m sorry for kissing you. I shouldn’t have done it.”
“You kissed me,” Sephiroth repeats, slowly. “A kiss.”
Cloud’s so taken aback he looks straight up, blinking in confusion. “Uh…yeah?”
Then, in the lowlight, Cloud watches the most fascinating thing happen.
Sephiroth’s cheeks begin to redden. It’s slow, like an ember catching fire, but it spreads steadily like his skin is dry kindling. It starts at the apples of his cheeks and creeps down, creeps over his nose, even up to his ears from what Cloud can see from the flickering flames of the fireplace. Cloud’s jaw is dropped.
Sephiroth is blushing.
Then Sephiroth growls in his chest, an angry, frustrated thing, and bangs his other hand above Cloud, the plate clattering to the floor. Cloud makes another undignified noise he does not want to name and tries to become one with the wood he is so solidly pressed against.
“Whatever you are doing to me, cease,” Sephiroth tells him in his dangerously low and somehow very sexy voice, a hint of what Cloud can tell is panic in the mako-gleam of his eyes. “I have had enough of this. You will release me from whatever spell you’ve put me under.”
What the fuck is this fanfiction dialogue? Cloud thinks desperately, finally connecting the dots and stuck somewhere between denial and elation and an overall aura of what the fuck is my life???
“I’m not doing anything to you,” Cloud says as calmly as he possibly can while he internally screams. “I promise. No spell, no anything, not when I kissed you and not since. I am really sorry for that, by the way.”
“Then what. Is happening,” Sephiroth grits out. Cloud glances up when the wood he’s against creaks dangerously, finding that Sephiroth’s hands have curled into fists against the door. “I can not focus. I can not forget. I can not do anything without thinking about it. If this is not a spell, what have you done to me?”
“If it helps any, I uh, I haven’t been able to do anything either. At all.” Cloud stutters under Sephiroth’s scrutiny, talking faster when the SOLDIER squints at him. “I can’t stop thinking about it either, but that’s because I’m embarrassed and you’re my superior and it was inappropriate. That’s all because of things that I’m thinking, y’know? And you’re very attractive.”
Cloud is sticking his foot in his mouth and he knows it but wow, instead of shutting the fuck up like he should, he keeps going.
“Like, very attractive. I feel like I shouldn’t have kissed you at all, seriously,” Cloud babbles on, and Sephiroth’s scrutiny seems to calm into something Else. Cloud doesn’t know if that’s good or not. “I can’t stop thinking about it because of that and it’s not like it’s something I’m ever going to do again and like, what the hell lives up to that? And who would believe me? I kissed Sephiroth and lived? What? Oh my god, what?”
Cloud is spontaneously cursed by the gods to both realize the implications of what he’s saying and who he’s saying it to simultaneously, and nearly has a heart attack right in front of the greatest SOLDIER to ever live. Sephiroth’s mouth opens and Cloud is ready to sink through the ground right into Hel’s arms.
“You can not stop thinking of it because you find me attractive?” Sephiroth recites.
Cloud breathes shakily and stares. Sephiroth’s gaze has calmed from his anger into something more…inquisitive? Curious?
“You are suggesting this is an internal response,” Sephiroth continues, looking away as Cloud has watched him do as he strategizes. Apparently that’s a thing he does when he’s in thought. His side profile could be a killer for how sharp it is, and Cloud envies him for how good he makes musing look. “Hm. What else?”
Cloud is still staring. It isn’t until Sephiroth looks down at him again, brows slightly raised from his lack of response, that Cloud stammers an answer.
“Have you um…have you been kissed, before? By chance? Just uh, out of curiosity? Not that it’s my business, holy shit what am I saying, you’re Sephiroth—”
“No,” Sephiroth confirms with a hum. “I actually had not realized that what you had done qualified as a kiss. I believe you are being truthful about having cast no spell, so I am willing to confirm whether this was an internal reaction.”
How?? Cloud thinks incredulously. How is that even possible??? Unfortunately, these thoughts never get to cross his lips.
Sephiroth then, arms still above and to either side of Cloud, ducks his head down slightly, leaning forward until their foreheads are nearly touching. Cloud swears his heart stops.
“Huh,” Cloud says weakly.
“Experimentation,” Sephiroth breathes over Cloud’s lips, and is Cloud imagining it or is his breath a little sharper too? “And subsequent documentation. If you are open to that.”
Cloud wants to scream that he has no idea what the fuck is going on and that he wants to run away and collapse at Sephiroth’s feet and never get up and also wants to scream prayers to Shiva that she not wait for him to die before she reincarnates him already.
What he does is shakily whisper, “Yeah, sure.”
Sephiroth nods. Then he dips down closer, a collection of silver strands slipping over his shoulder, and turns his head slightly to the side.
Cloud stares dumbly for a full three seconds before he realizes what he’s supposed to do. He does it slower this time, heart in his ears the whole way. He goes up slightly on his toes and, hyperconscious of the dryness of his puckered lips, presses them chastely to Sephiroth’s cheek. He presses them there for a few long seconds, enough for sureness of contact, then retreats back against the wall hastily, ducking his head. It’s in vain, to try and conceal his blush from a SOLDIER with eyes that pierce through the dark, but he tries anyways.
He yelps when Sephiroth suddenly falls to his knees.
“Why am I burning?” Sephiroth asks breathlessly from where his face is now closer to Cloud’s stomach which wow, wow, wow, that view is not good for his health, that view is not good for his heart. Sephiroth’s all wide-eyed and flushed, staring up at Cloud like he’s some inexplicable phenomenon and not just some guy from the dregs of the infantry.
“You’re blushing,” Cloud informs him, lifting his head a little despite his own shyness. He clears his throat, eyes shifty, but tries to stay faithful to his self-proclaimed mission of informing Sephiroth of things a guy as attractive as him should’ve known long ago. “I am too. ‘Cause. Y’know.”
“You find me attractive,” Sephiroth breathes out, and Cloud almost chokes on his saliva.
“Yeah,” he confirms hoarsely. “I do.”
“I wonder,” Sephiroth says lowly, leaning towards Cloud like a breeze is pushing him forward. “No. More data.”
“What?”
“More.” Sephiroth gets up from where he’s knelt, hovering over Cloud with a damn near crazed look in his eyes. “I need you to kiss me more.”
Cloud is going to die young from a heart attack.
“Well,” Cloud clears his throat, “I might need you a little closer to do that.”
Sephiroth’s back down to his level before the last word has left Cloud properly. He swallows again, thickly, throws up another few incredulous prayers for salvation and thanks, and kisses Sephiroth on his cheek.
“Again,” Sephiroth murmurs.
Cloud kisses a different spot.
“Again.”
Cloud kisses closer to his jaw.
“Again,” and it’s so light, so breathless, so flustered and there’s so much pretty red skin that Cloud’s eyes are crossing and he might go crazy.
He kisses Sephiroth’s other cheek.
“More,” Sephiroth says hoarsely.
Cloud’s lips hover over Sephiroth’s uncertainly, eyes fluttering open from the narrow squint of the tunnel vision he’d had for every inch of skin he kissed. His eyes dart up to find Sephiroth watching.
Their lips press together, and Cloud’s entire body shivers, his hands coming up to cling to Sephiroth’s wrists where they once more hover at either side of Cloud’s head. He hangs on for what he thinks is dear life, tilting his head back and to, pecking Sephiroth’s lips over and over, feeling as though his heart is going to beat right out of his chest and into Sephiroth’s mouth.
He pulls back slightly to make eye contact with the SOLDIER. He finds cyan green irises as nothing more than a strip of color around big, dilated pupils.
“Keep going,” he’s ordered in that same breathless mumble, and Cloud’s a good soldier, so he follows orders.
Sephiroth has never understood the concept of addiction.
He understands it as a factual condition the human body is capable of, a combination of chemicals and circumstance that causes it. However, there has never been anything Sephiroth has enjoyed enough in order to sympathize with how a person can become addicted. Even the rare occasions he has been on pain medication he has found a dislike for the way it nulls his senses, leaving him vulnerable.
He thinks, that if he has not already done so, he could get addicted to kisses.
Cloud does most of it at first, but Sephiroth can hear his heartbeat. He’s weak against the door, legs shaking with either nerves or the same strength-sapping power Sephiroth has been put under. He, out of sympathy for the young cadet, decides to scoop him up in an arm, easily supporting him without any exertion at all.
“Holy fuck,” Cloud Strife startles, hands darting to Sephiroth’s shoulders and clinging tightly. Sephiroth feels like he has two stars swirling into existence beneath his skin where Cloud’s hands connect to his jacket. “Okay, wow, are we doing this?”
“Depends on what this is,” Sephiroth responds, tone wavering. His skin burns, and he feels unsteady with each step he takes into the room, but it’s as he suspected. Exposure therapy has changed his response.
It’s rather pleasant, now that he’s used to it.
“I think I am attracted to you,” Sephiroth observes idly as he knocks all of the books and stray papers from the desk he was utilizing, gently laying Cloud down on the wooden surface. Big blue eyes stare up at him dumbfoundedly. “Our reactions to each other are sufficiently similar for me to assume so. I’d like to conduct a different experiment.”
“What,” Cloud says as though he’s been punched as Sephiroth leans down over him.
“I would like to try different kisses on you and measure both of our reactions,” Sephiroth proposes, leaning down to breathe gently into Cloud’s ear. Cloud kissed near his ear once, and Sephiroth very much enjoyed that. Perhaps he’ll start there and work his way forward. “If you’re amenable to that.”
“I’m going to explode,” Cloud mumbles into Sephiroth’s ear in turn. “This is it. I’m going to combust.”
Despite his words, his hands find their way around Sephiroth’s neck again, and Sephiroth feels his skin prickle down his spine in what he’s now able to pinpoint as pleasure. This brings him pleasure. So few things do that. He plans to treasure this.
“If it is any consolation,” Sephiroth says in turn, and begins to press kisses into the interestingly textured and inexplicably appealing skin, “spontaneous combustion has a very low rate of occurrence in the general population.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Cloud groans hoarsely when Sephiroth experiments and flicks his tongue out against the hollow of Cloud’s throat. Cloud did it earlier and Sephiroth liked it. It is good to know Cloud will also be a vocal subject.
“Mako-enhanced members of the population have a slightly higher rate,” Sephiroth murmurs against the skin he has wet with his saliva.
“What the fuck does that—ah!”
Cloud’s entire body jolts and Sephiroth presses his body down against him to keep him in place, which is followed up by another interesting moan. Sephiroth had blown over the skin he had wet with his tongue, because while he enjoyed Cloud’s open-mouthed kisses, he hadn’t liked the feeling of drying saliva. He was hoping to speed up the process.
It seems he’s discovered something more intriguing that that.
“Please refrain from combusting,” Sephiroth beseeches against Cloud’s lips as he rises up, whispering against Cloud’s lips. “There are more kisses I would like to try.”
“Sure, sir,” Cloud says in that tone Sephiroth is starting to learn is his version of breathless teasing. It makes the hairs on Sephiroth’s neck rise. In a good way. “I’ll try not to die so you can kiss me to death.”
“Not to death,” Sephiroth hums. “Only until you do not want to.”
“Sephiroth, sir,” Cloud says seriously, pulling him back by the hair and oh. That is another new sensation to explore later on. “The day I say I don’t want to kiss you, assume I’m dying.”
Sephiroth blinks down at him. He nods his affirmation. It’s only then that Cloud welcomes him back down into his arms.
Now Sephiroth doesn’t want to leave the basement for an entirely different reason than before.
You could not have paid Cloud three months ago to guess that he’d be in Sephiroth’s living room playing Chocobo Race with Zack Fair because the black-haired SOLDIER loudly claimed that Seph’s TV was bigger and he needs Cloud to use his boyfriend privileges more often.
But he is. He’s also whooping Zack’s ass.
The aftermath of whatever the hell happened in Nibelheim was both a whirlwind and something that seemed to go on forever. Once the two of them calmed down from what Zack fondly refers to as their kissing frenzy, that he accidentally interrupted out of concern for a seemingly disappeared Cloud, they learned about what Sephiroth had been researching. Both Zack and Cloud called bullshit immediately, even if they were horrified by the implications.
It helped a lot that their knocking around had woken up some goth dude that looked like he jumped out of a LOVELESS porno from the 60’s who had apparently been taking a long dirt nap without the dirt. That got them a lot of straightforward answers a lot faster, and a quick rundown of Sephiroth’s horrid childhood. To summarize, Cloud now understands why Sephiroth didn’t understand kissing beyond what he saw on TV when two people’s lips connected and was all around affection starved. He also had a bone-deep hunger for Hojo’s blood that Zack matched him for.
In the end, the shot and slash that got Hojo was split between the goth dude, Vincent Valentine (what the fuck even his name is goth—), and Masamune itself.
Fair trade. Cloud still popped by to kick the body. Fuck that guy.
From there, some carefully controlled publicizing, Sephiroth deciding he didn’t like Shinra very much and quietly throwing his chips in with some eco-terrorists behind the scenes, and some assassinations Sephiroth continues to privately deny involvement in but Cloud knows he at least opened the doors for, things have changed. The SOLDIER program is officially halted, the men that are already enhanced being examined by real doctors that will prioritize their health.
Rufus is…around. Cloud can admit he doesn’t know exactly what Sephiroth said to the VP, but whatever it was, it’s made the Shinra heir keep his head down. He’s back in Junon last Cloud heard. Cloud doesn’t really care beyond that, and since the Turks stayed in Midgar, it doesn’t matter that much. The army is being disbanded, and now that Verdot and Vincent have reunited, whatever force Shinra has left is getting a new style of management. Whatever power Rufus may have, it’s purely in name.
Wutai officially has a treaty written up with Shinra, reparations generous under Sephiroth’s direct insistence. He’s flown back and forth several times to personally help with rebuilding. Wutai doesn’t like him, but they have begrudging respect for warriors with honor. Cloud knows how much Sephiroth guilts himself over what he did, so he knows the SOLDIER will take what he can get.
Shinra’s leaning towards cleaner energy under President Reeve Tuesti’s guidance, suggestions being taken from AVALANCHE. The monster population has decreased by more than half ever since the reactors stopped, and Zack’s been cheering that his girlfriend’s flowers are selling like crazy now that people can plant them.
And Cloud? Well, he’s not infantry anymore. He’s just here because he’s Chief Advisor Sephiroth Crescent’s boyfriend.
Oh yeah. He loves waving that around, even if Seph isn’t that enthused over it.
It sort of just happened, not like it was anything Seph had been aiming for. But eventually his role in all the reforms that had been sweeping Midgar came to light, and if he was a legend before, he’s damn near a god now. He played a large part in exposing what Shinra was doing behind the scenes, even if he himself did it in the dark, and the people loved him for it. He became more than a war hero. He became the people’s hero.
Sephiroth’s socially awkward ass of course had no idea what to do with this, but Vincent, well-versed in politics despite his rivalling social awkwardness, had a simple suggestion. Give Sephiroth a position that would satisfy the people without heaping too much active responsibility on him within Shinra’s walls. A position that would let him be something beside a weapon, on his terms, when he decides.
And that’s what happened.
It’s a good position. It took some getting used to for Seph, because he didn’t know what to do with all his money and free time, but Cloud, also freshly out of a job, had some suggestions.
Now Sephiroth has a full sized house. Cloud and Zack opened a shop, Cloud having a gift for metalwork and Zack having a surprising gift for woodwork, and Zack’s poured his SOLDIER savings into it, delighted to have something else to do with his hands. They’re figuring it out day by day, and so far, it’s working.
Sephiroth, despite not being social, spends most of his time with people. He likes it. He likes seeing that he’s doing something that helps people, he likes hearing about people, he likes seeing their lives and understanding them more than he could for all of his life. Cloud knows there’s some days he just sits on a rooftop, overlooking squares in the sectors, watching and listening to people exist and not having to worry that he’ll get called away to a mission or a lab. Cloud’s happy for him. Cloud’s really, really happy for him.
And if Cloud tags along sometimes just to get kissed silly against said rooftops, well. They pick some pretty high ones. Who’s going to see them?
The door opens and closes, and Zack hollers without looking away from the TV, “Welcome home! Shit shit shit don’t you dare, Spike!” After which Cloud soundly decimates him, setting his controller down with a smug grin.
“Welcome home,” he calls back a bit softer, looking over the back of the sofa to see Sephiroth already approaching.
“Glad to be back,” Sephiroth says softly, then bends over him to peck him on the lips.
He does it again. And again. On one of them he makes a surprisingly dramatic smooching noise that makes Cloud giggle, after which Seph teasingly tuts at him and holds his head still for another series of kisses.
“Annnnd that’s my cue,” Zack playfully groans as he gets up from the couch with a stretch of his back. “I’m going to go make a sandwich like the cuck I am while you two kiss addicts get to it.”
“Piss off, Zack,” Cloud murmurs between kisses, and Zack’s laugh fades away as he heads to the kitchen.
“Cuck?” Sephiroth gently questions between kisses, and Cloud scowls against his lips.
“Another day,” he groans, “I don’t want to tackle that right now. Kiss me again.”
“That was the plan,” Sephiroth replies, because he’s snarky that way.
They eventually have to separate because Cloud’s neck starts hurting, and Sephiroth calmly manages to make vaulting a couch look graceful before he pulls Cloud into his lap so they can continue. They’ve gotten much better with practice, fitting together like two puzzle pieces, turning this way and that to the silent song of the dance only they know.
“Do you ever think,” Cloud mumbles when Sephiroth dips to kiss at his neck, because they’re also fatal multitaskers, “about what might’ve happened if I hadn’t kissed you?”
Sephiroth hums into the skin of Cloud’s throat and peppers kisses up to his chin until he can reply against Cloud’s jawline.
“I have thought on it,” Sephiroth confesses. “I do not like to. I do not think it would have ended well, with all the things I had seen and all the things I might’ve thought had you not been on my mind. I think I may have gone insane.”
“Pfff,” Cloud laughs a little. “Nah, you wouldn’t. You’re too rational for that, Mr. ‘Let’s Experiment And Document.’”
Sephiroth chuckles too, but Cloud can tell it’s a bit dry.
“I don’t know,” Sephiroth hums again, then kisses his way back to Cloud’s mouth. His eyes lock onto Cloud’s with sheer adoration. “Again. I don’t think on it. No use, when I have you now.”
“You’re damn right,” Cloud agrees through only a slightly smug grin. “I’m better than any freaky alien genes you’re ever gonna get.”
“Does that imply I’m set to receive more?” Sephiroth whispers, doing a horrible job of hiding how his mouth twitches in mirth. “I did not subscribe to these services.”
“Oh, shut up and kiss me. Idiot.”
They’re not soldiers anymore, but Sephiroth smiles against Cloud’s lips when he decides to obey orders anyway.