sephiroth, “tol alien boy”, SOLDIER first class. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
supersoldier) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
finalflight2020-05-14 12:15 pm
supersoldier) wrote in finalflight2020-05-14 12:15 pm
supersoldier) wrote in finalflight2020-05-14 12:15 pm
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It's Tifa's suitcase, so I'll need it back.
[his back to sephiroth, he returns to the suitcase and then reaches down for one of the jackets. he grabs hold of it—and remains otherwise unmoving. thinking.]
[what does he want?]
[he doesn't know. he's been hurt once before, and bad, but could he just set it to the side? build something from that, see if the pain he feels right now can be replaced with something good?]
I miss you. [is what he settles on, holding tighter onto the jacket, like it anchors him in some way.] I miss your touch, and talking to you, and just... your being there. Like you could care less about anything else, but I meant something. [it's laughable, he thinks, shaking his head and looking down, rising to his feet again and folding the jacket into its middle and just holding on to it against his front.] You showed me I could belong, and then you just...
[what does he want? the answer is clear, but admitting it is just leagues beyond him.]
deletes this thread
And yet he finds himself standing, approaching. His hand coming to Cloud’s shoulder to turn him, to make him—]
Look at me.
[Either way, Sephiroth will end up in his vision, and he lifts his hand, pausing, unsure, just a whisper against the curve of Cloud’s jawline.]
I left you; I hurt you. I made a mistake, and I don’t expect forgiveness— but every day, I regret it. In those five years, there were times when I thought I could forget about you entirely and live with my decision, but then I would dream about you like it was a punishment and I wasn’t allowed to—
[Sephiroth pauses, realizing that his sentence is running too long. He needs to avoid sounding desperate, because this isn’t about him. He should have learned that long ago.
Emotion is churning behind green eyes, kept locked behind Sephiroth’s wavering willpower. He’s quiet, and his hand finally brushes across the warmth of Cloud’s cheek. Fond and longing— but dangerous, wherever this road could lead.]
You could come back to me.
[Selfish. He knows it.]
🔪
[and he speaks, freely, something he hadn't done, and something cloud remembers five years ago—of finally pushing past that inability to express each other fruitfully.]
[what sephiroth says is enough to have cloud's eyes widen in a slow bound understanding.]
[then there's his touch, and words that speak of a suggestion but really imply more. a selfish desire, perhaps a request, even. a decision that the two of them ought to make together. it's so tenuous, because cloud already feels like he's tipping towards terrible decisions anyway, and the brush of knuckles over his cheek is enough to pull him over.]
[cloud lets the jacket fall to their feet as he raises his hands to put around the curve of sephiroth's neck, behind his head, and bring him down to meet him halfway. their lips meet, and cloud does not care. his chest bursts with feeling, with an emotion long since buried but which very well still remained there, grossly frozen in time out of a means to protect himself more so than anything else.]
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His heart is going to burst.
It is going to spill over with the longing built up over the years, emotion barely kept leashed since he saw him that night at the party. The world comes to a standstill and lurches beneath his feet at the same time. Sephiroth’s hand drops from the other man’s face, smoothing over his shoulder, and slides behind his back to secure him in place. To make certain he will not slip away from this one moment that has him wondering, if just for a second, if he could be dreaming again.
He closes his eyes, leans in, and turns it into a proper kiss. It’s eager, but he doesn’t care. He missed him, so much, and it would be wrong to not let him know.
He kisses him until he must breathe, pulling away only to fill his lungs with Cloud’s scent.]
You should warn me first.
[And it’s a breathless joke, on the dizzied tail of a realization that he’s just negated something he told Cloud moments before.
The past is none of his business. And we’re not doing anything wrong in the present.
So much for that.]
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[he holds on to it, even as sephiroth pulls back and cloud blinks his eyes open.]
You'd never warn me.
[his hands hold tight onto his shirt, as he stares up at sephiroth, and there is no remorse or hesitation in his eyes, no post-realization that he shouldn't be doing this.]
[it's after a moment that he lifts his hands up, to push back sephiroth's silver bangs out of the way and over his shoulders. his thumbs gently pressing on his brow, down the line of his cheekbones, dipping down until they rest against the tie wound around his shirt. and cloud tugs—pulls—insistent, stubborn, and nothing more.]
It'll take you a million years to make it up to me. No, a trillion.
[and that nothing becomes, without preamble, into another kiss—pushy, really.]
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He’s reminded of that florid obsession with his body, his presence so close to him, in the kiss he’s given. Demanding, immediate, and yes, pushy. Sephiroth’s fingers press harder into his back, and his other hand cups his side as he allows Cloud’s lips to subsume him. He returns the favor, slipping his tongue into his mouth, humming a low sound of impatience that reverberates from the hollow of his throat.
And his reservations, too, fade away like something bleached too long under the sun.
He severs the kiss only to breathe and to reply, and even then their lips are barely parted. His breath brushes against the corner of Cloud’s mouth, and heat radiates between them.]
Every moment of mine is yours. [His lips quirk, and he finds that he’s smiling.] A trillion years, if that’s what you demand from me. I owe you more than that.
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[it's the smile, really. cloud finds the realization that sephiroth would be more than willing to put up with whatever "punishment" cloud deemed sufficient because, in the end, this ultimate result of getting to be with one another? it's the kind of result that would make it all worth it. it's — strange, to describe how he feels, but he wants to think about those confusing thoughts later, and right now just bask in the fact that sephiroth is here.]
[after five stupid long years, sephiroth is no longer gone.]
[and it could just so easily be like how it was before. right?]
[cloud shakes his head and drags his hands away from the other's tie, onto his chest, and around his middle. it's just as easy for him, in their height difference, to press his head against the other's chest while they embrace. cloud missed him, and he never got to say good bye, and now...]
[he frowns]
Headache. This is helping.
[he tries to hide the wetness in his voice, but also trying to hide the sentimentality of the act with a mostly-solid excuse.]
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He runs his hands back up until they’re at the sides of Cloud’s face, his thumbs gently grazing over his temples.]
Sit down again. I can try to help you feel better.
[Just like before, the nights Cloud spent with his head in Sephiroth’s lap as he messaged the headaches away. Abated them. And on the worse nights, when even that would not work, at least he was there.]
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Were you really not busy?
[he knows he's going to be a massive distraction for the man for the rest of the day. oh well.]
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I’m ahead enough that it can wait for a day.
[Put off for a day, more like, because yes, Cloud will remain a distraction for as long as he’s present in his office.
Sephiroth sinks into the cushions.]
No one else will come up here to check.
[Sephiroth might be the star employee, but he is intimidating to most. Cloud remains the only one who would approach him without putting on airs, just like he did all those years ago.]
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[cloud huffs and closes his eyes, letting go of sephiroth's hand to pinch the point between his eyes. despite the mention of the elephant in the room, cloud decides that he doesn't want to dwell on that too much—thus his decision to make himself comfortable and put his head on sephiroth's lap, legs stretched towards one end of the couch, ankles crossed.]
...it's whatever. I'll think about it later.
[taking one of sephiroth's hands, he puts it unceremoniously over his face. he doesn't want the other to see the embarrassed face he's otherwise making, or how he's trying hard to keep an expression of indifference.]
Have at it. Do your magic.
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His hand is guided to Cloud’s face; Sephiroth’s palm is wide and his fingers long and slender, enough to cover the majority of his features when so haphazardly placed above them. He slides two fingers to press gently at one temple, placing his other hand similarly on the other.]
I don’t want to play at deceit.
[His touch moves in small, gentle circles, massaging Cloud’s temples in an easy motion.]
Hiding under Rufus’ radar to not get caught.
[He doesn’t care to. If this is something that they’re to pursue, he wants to do so openly, earnestly. Duplicity doesn’t compliment him.]
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[he says quickly, understanding what sephiroth means. he hadn't meant that he wouldn't break things off with rufus, but it was just not something he was going to run into his office, right this second, to tell him about. he needed to sort through some things first, and then... put him down easy.]
[cloud closes his eyes and lets sephiroth work on ridding him of his headache, feeling the tension dissipate a little.]
[it's a little too relaxing.]
Just give me some time to get it done right.
[which brings another concern...]
—do you think he'll get back at you for it?
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I don't know.
[He tilts his head down, silver bangs framing his face. The tips tickle at Cloud's shoulders.]
That depends on the state of his pride. I've known him for a long time, you know. If he... cares enough about you, he won't be happy. [The very idea rakes against him.] But if the opposite is true, he'll probably not even bat an eye.
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[it's unreal.]
We'll find out soon enough.
[and funny, too, how sleepy his voice sounds.]
[but cloud doesn't want to sleep. not yet. which is why he opens his eyes to look up at sephiroth, raising a hand to press onto the man's cheek—a light touch—before settling onto the curve of his neck.]
You'll tell me what happened? With your family.
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The question does not pause his movements, but the words are slow to come.]
...Of course. [Softly, long eyelashes lowered to watch him.] You deserve that much after all this time.
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[cloud says, with a nod, and bringing his hand back down to rest atop his own chest. sephiroth has trouble with explicitly stating things—and he gets it—but at the same time cloud wishes to be firm. he may not be saying it, but he cannot think he can bear to be cast in the dark again, left in knots and heartbreak.]
[but at least the older man seems to get it.]
[he's not all too heartless, though.] —whenever you're ready. [is what he says softly, before turning on his side and attempting his best to get comfortable. an arm wrapped around his middle and his other hand pressing against sephiroth's knee, cloud has plans: to take a nap here, now that he's finally finding himself lulled by sleep.]
[he needs it—and sephiroth owes him as much.]
I'm not going to go anywhere.
[reassurance, trust.]
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An unwavering request (I want to hear about it) tempered with time and patience (whenever you're ready). He wonders if it will ever be easy to talk about, the revelations that had set him off-course from this man for five long years. What Cloud will think of them when he finally articulates the truth that over-encumbered his mind.
I'm not going to go anywhere.]
...All right.
[He leans forward just enough to brush his lips across Cloud's forehead, a barely-there kiss.]
For now... Rest, Cloud.
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[he'll miss the dog.]
[but that chapter is long swept behind him—for a few weeks now, really. he's back with sephiroth, and they made the decision to have cloud move in with him, in an apartment which is not quite the same as the one from before, but it's all too similar in its interior design. after all, this is sephiroth he's dealing with. it makes cloud's heart burst anytime he thinks that the man is back, that those five years could easily dissipate from his mind if he focuses on the present. he likes the comfort brought forth from it, from knowing that he gets to come back from working his hours at the seventh heaven to sephiroth, who sits on the couch reading a book; or sephiroth, taking a stab at dinner; or sephiroth, opening the door and greeting him home, almost like he knew cloud was on the other side trying to get the key. it's routine—it's normalcy. he likes sharing his time with the man, and relearning everything about their relationship all over again.]
[for now, cloud's reassured that he had made the right choice. for now, cloud's willing to welcome sephiroth back.]
[it's late in the evening when cloud returns to the apartment, having decided to take a detour for some groceries and grab some food from the wutai restaurant pushed to a corner in the slums of sector 3. it's greasy stuff, full of sauce and sodium, but cloud likes their beef. he's made sure to pick out sephiroth's favorite, too. said assortment of food and groceries is in paper bags that hang from his arms as he maneuvers the door open, way too intent on multitasking—toeing off his shoes, grabbing the key, closing the door, and pulling up his bomber jacket.]
[he ends up with his shoes haphazardly by the shoe rack, lightly kicking the door closed, and the keyring held in his mouth as he walks in towards the nearest table—where he notices, surprised, a vase with flowers; white and yellow lilies... and that would explain why it smells so sweet.]
Sefffipeh?
[calling out in a jumble of slurred puffs and jingling keys, elbowing a nearby lightswitch on.]
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It’s good to have Cloud with him, to know he will return at the end of the day, coming through the door to greet him like clockwork. To spend their nights together, quiet, complete, their lives finally running parallel after having gone astray for years. Things are they should be — were it not for the gratitude that bores into his chest, a conciliatory want to please Cloud to make up for the lonesome pain he caused with his departure.
Sometimes, it’s hard to know how to show it, beyond his natural want to be near. Signs of affection in larger displays are foreign to him, never a man given to overt romanticism, and he has so little experience to draw upon. But flowers— flowers have their own language, don’t they? They might say what he cannot; portray what he cannot, in their starburst array of carefully chosen arrangements.
Yellow and white lilies, in this case, spilling over the rim of a plain, white vase as if eager to brightly greet Cloud.
Sephiroth comes into view seconds later, his greeting a simple reach to free the keys from the other man’s mouth, another hand offering to take a bag or two.]
No one here goes by that name.
[Sefffipeh.]
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You came anyway.
[he said what he said.]
[sending another glance at the flowers, he finally adjusts his jacket properly on his shoulders, cloud starts making his way towards the kitchen, socked feet and all, and sets down the bags onto the counter. it's easy enough for him to turn, hand flat on the surface, and pointing over out towards the entrance hall.]
Where did you even get flowers from?
[cloud may or may not still be thinking about how there are... flowers in the apartment, and he doesn't want to rush to romantic conclusions, but—...sephiroth really isn't one for buying flowers on a whim, even if they are pretty scarce around midgar. feeling maybe a little flustered that he's giving away how much interest he has in them, cloud glances back towards the bags and gestures noncommittally.]
I brought dinner, so you don't have to try and burn us down again.
[sephiroth's a pretty darn good cook, by all means; cloud just likes to poke fun at this skill he himself clearly does not possess. except when it comes to omelettes. cloud can do the best omelettes.]
From the Wutai place. You hungry?
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[He accedes, setting down the bags to where they can be tended to by Cloud later, and crossing past just enough to hang the keys back in their proper place. The metal jingles with each step as he places them back on the keyring.
His smile, though, is knowing the whole time. Cloud is not subtle about how his glances at the flowers, pinned at them for a moment, then pretending that nothing is out of the ordinary. It amuses him, to think that he can pretend that this bright arrangement -- those lilies with their smiling faces -- is just the usual background noise of their apartment.]
The flowers are from a local florist shop; I always pass it on my way back home from work. Do you like them?
[A glance over his shoulder, looking at the other man with soft, assessing eyes.]
They're for you.
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[casting a glance at the flowers again from the doorway, something in him clicks—suddenly.]
[he moves over towards sephiroth, unable to parse how he feels exactly about the softness in his eyes. it's been weeks since they've been living together, years before they had seen each other last—]
Sephiroth.
[—and they had been intimate exactly zero times since.]
[but cloud stands here, now, in front of the man, expression serious and holding at his forearms. this is perhaps not the reaction sephiroth was going for, but who knew it took only this gesture to get cloud to snap.]
I need you to fuck me. [his cheeks are warm, but his eyes are steady.] I can't take this anymore.
["this" being cloud's misinterpretation that sephiroth did not want to be intimate with him...? boy.]
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Sephiroth stills, blinking, looking as though he’s just been splashed in the face with cold water, while the admittedly very lizard part of his brain sends electricity up and down his spine.]
I...
[They’ve been living together for weeks and apart for years, and his body’s reaction to Cloud’s “request” is almost comically embarrassing, his heart already kicking its tempo up a notch or two. It’s only through the application of his steeled will does he manage to form words as a reply, his mind wheeling to process just what happened; the wording behind Cloud’s deadpan bluntness.
It isn’t the response he expected from flowers, for certain. (He won’t complain.) But he had kept himself restrained during the time they’ve been together for the sake of not overstepping boundaries, to not make assumptions about what Cloud did and did not want. He had no right, after disappearing like he did. It seemed tactless to hone in on physical intimacy when he didn’t seem particularly interested in pursuing it. Had he been wrong? Or are their wires still getting crossed?]
“This”? [What] The flowers?
[brain rebooting]
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[equally so, cloud's brain is putting his one braincell on overdrive, a rather confused expression glossing over his features as he tries to understand where talk about the flowers is coming from. was he not clear enough?]
[he grabs at sephiroth's arms, at his wrists, stepping forward.]
It's been so long, I get it. [here we go. the intricacies of cloud's minds for sephiroth to witness.] Is it because you think of what I might have done with Rufus? We never had sex. [that's what it is, isn't it?] It shouldn't matter, anyway. I'm with you, now, and I—
[his grip tightens around sephiroth's wrists.]
You don't want to?
[has sephiroth resigned himself to a life of celibacy in those five years??]
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