Blonde Ambition

Cloud could make out 'Satan', 'fuck', and 'cocaine' through the muddy, unsatisfying din of guitars.

But Cam knew every growling, guttural word, and was making a terrible face while he uttered them softly, lying on his bed and waiting for Cloud to get ready. Sometimes people's musical preferences just didn't fit. He let Sephiroth's song echo in his mind as it had through his dreams all night. That particular musical preference fit just fine. Ahem.

Cloud smiled sleepily and put on his field fatigues and a beater, not bothering with a shower. He figured he'd just have to take one later. Checking out his face, he pulled open wide his only slightly bloodshot eyes. One lucky thing about being from Nibelheim was the undeniable fact that he could hold his booze like a pirate. The only evidence of the various drinkies from the previous night was a good, long whiz and a throaty belch.

He looked at himself squarely.

Last night he had done it again. Cried and ran away. Depression dramatastic. Oh whoa is Cloud. On the first damn day? No more.

He pointed at himself in the mirror, "Knock it the fuck off."

He shoved his school clothes into his messenger bag and was ready to go.

As they made their way to get breakfast, it was clear that five AM had come a lot sooner than anyone had expected it to. It dawned on Cloud that there were probably several shindigs going on around campus last night. Although it was a strict military academy during school hours, it was also a notorious party metropolis what with it's location, and rowdy SOLDIERs hanging around it all the time. As long as the boys were in their rooms by ten, what they did on their own time was their own business. Little clusters of boys sat here and there, all yawning and some nodding off on the spot.

The cafeteria looked like a funeral.

The boys had their heads close to their plates of eggs and toast or pancake combos. Some moved slowly to the trash cans or to refill their juice. Some somberly stood with their backs against the wall for support, practically wilting.

The most grief stricken table of all was the one the SOLDIERs were sitting at. Almost all the men had their heads down. Too bad, Cloud thought, I have questions.

He pointed them out to Cam, who being one of those disgusting morning people, practically skipped with him to their table. A couple moved over like restless corpses, making room for the two of them.

"Cloud?" Zack said, face smooshed against the wood of the table.

"Hmmm?" He answered, sipping his juice.

"When you guys become SOLDIERs … don't ever drink … " He advised, raising his head slowly. " … Before the first day of the new semester … "

"Amen," Said a SOLDIER whose name was Max. He had confessed the previous evening to having a thing for dick girls, among other things.

It was their job to be glorified hall monitors that day, helping the new boys find their way. But instead they were all hung over. Zack slapped the table and everyone groaned loudly, "First act of Big Brother duty! It is my advice that you don't eat."

Cloud and Cam were already half done, "Why not?" They both asked through pancakes.

"Oh. Well, you'll see. But know that there are doggy bags by the ketchup and shit. From now on, pack it away and eat if before your first sit down class," Zack was rubbing small circles into his sinuses, looking miserable.

Tact be damned, "What the hell was that CD you gave me last night?" Cloud suddenly asked, taking the opportunity to grill him.

Zack was now rubbing circles on his eyebrows and groaning, "Seph burned it."

Oh, Holy of Holies! He lowered his voice to a personal tone, "You really know him that well, Zack?"

"Who doesn't?"

‘Me!’ Cloud thought desperately, and asked, "When did he burn it?"

"Ughnnh … after the seminar."

"From where?"

" … The party … " Zack was pressing his fingers firmly into his closed eyes.

"Did he say anything?" It was rapid fire questioning.

Cam turned to Max and started asking him questions about his dirty confession. Max spit out his coffee.

"Hmm. He just said to give it to you when you showed up, then he had to go."

Cloud's face went white with information. Sephiroth took the time to pick out a song and actually burn it. What if Sephiroth had been WAITING for him to get to the party? While he was sitting in the window bitching and burning up his lungs! If he hadn't run off what would have happened? Maybe Sephiroth would have … Broken the ice a little better? Shared his beer? Revoked Cloud's membership to the V-club? Ring a ding ding?

Cloud must have looked disturbed, because Zack gently said, "He wasn't mad at you."

"For what?"

"You know. For being weird," Zack sort of laughed, then 'ow'ed and put his fingers back onto his eyes. "He left because he had a thing this morning. I don't know what the fuck he does. But yeah, Ohh … He did actually say something."

"What!"

"Not so looooud!" Zack grumpily looked at Cloud. You could hear the whine in his voice. "He said you could burn him one back if you feel like it."

"Will you still be here later tonight?"

Zack nodded, his head hitting the table, "Come by the house whenever."

Cloud rubbed him on the back and waved goodbye to Cam, who was filling all the SOLDIERs in on the previous evenings colorful conversation.

Cloud smiled. Oh yes, a CD was going to be burned. A seriously executive musical decision needed to be made though. This needed to be the perfect song. A way to tell Sephiroth how he felt and that it wouldn't make him look like a mental patient. This was like fucking chess.

Wishful thinking, but he couldn't help but wonder if there was an iota of a chance, a super mini fun size possibility … That Seph could be interested. This wasn't the late 80's … You don't just make people mix tapes.

He wanted to think.

But first, he had to get this stupid day out of the way.

-.-.-.-

Cloud had seen the athletic field when he was driving past, but actually standing on it sent butterflies into his full stomach. This was happening. He was here.

The field was massive in a way the universe is massive, there was nobody even nearby, just the sound of grunts, whistles, and shouting echoing in the distance. It was still completely dark outside except for a hint of lavender on the horizon. The artificial grass scrunched wet with dew under his boots as he walked to Zone 9, where his first class was held. There were only six other boys there, sitting in a kind of circle next to a small, orange coned off track.

"Hey," Cloud said and sat down with the little group.

The boys had been silent and forlorn looking, but then their gears started to turn a little bit, "Oh, you're that one guy!" A tall boy with brown emo hair said yawning a chuckle.

Another blonde boy who was scarily skinny also snapped to recognition, "Yeeeah you're the one who joked with the General."

Joked? Cloud shrugged with a sideways smile.

"Stand up boys," Came a strong female voice. The seven boys stood up at attention.

"I'm Nurse Rhonda. Your running coach."

A woman, perhaps in her late 20's was walking towards them. Everything about her screamed butch. She had a severe black ponytail, and not a stitch of make up. She wore black sports bra and track pants, and was holding a bullhorn. Her abs were terrifying. They looked like they could stab an eye out.

"And trust me, this is running, not speed walking and not jogging. Our goal in this class is simple: run for sixty minutes. If you vomit three times, you're excused. If you cough up blood three times, you're excused. If you cough up blood twice and vomit once, you are not excused. When I say run, you run. When I blow the whistle, you stop. Do you understand everything I've just said?"

"YES MA'AM!" They all said in unison.

She laughed. It was a strange, demented sound, "Ma'am? My cock is longer, hairier, and sweatier than all of yours put together! Call me Sir!"

"YES SIR!"

She walked slowly over to a lawn chair and sat down. She lifted the bullhorn to her mouth and screamed, "RUN!"

Back home, Cloud had been doing the workout thing for quite some time. He could do sit-ups, push-ups, pull-ups, jogging, the whole nine. He thought he was in pretty good shape. He thought wrong.

After a mere sixteen minutes into pure, balls to the walls, non-stop running, he fell to his hands and knees and vomited up everything he had just eaten. He spit in breathless after shock for a moment, before noticing that the pancakes still smelled … Sweet.

He absolutely dry heaved himself inside out with disgust.

"STRIFE, ARE YOU HAVING A RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE?"

"No Sir!" He quickly forced himself up and continued. Before too much longer, every boy had thrown up at least once. They were slipping on their own puke.

The evil witch turned on the bullhorn just to cackle into it. "RUN, BITCHES," she cawed, "RUUUN!"

The bitches ran. Through puke, bloody mucus, side cramps, and that cawing, satanic laughter. After a while, Cloud found a happy place inside himself imaging that he was John Connor from Terminator 2, and Sephiroth was a hot but deadly android in biker clothes. They were running through Cosmo Canyon with perfect hair whipping behind them, appealing smudges of dirt on their faces, loaded up to hell with heavy artillery, and blasting the shit out of motorcycle cops.

"Cloud, come with me if you want to live."

"Oh I don't know, Sephiroth! I'm a young and naïve boy, and you're such a hot but deadly android! Who KNOWS what you'll do to me in the dead of night out in the middle of nowhere?"

Cloud smiled.

When Nurse Rhonda's whistle finally blew, Cloud's body fell into a little pile of limbs and blonde hair before his brain had even registered what the sound meant. He sat up with a groan and looked around. A couple of the other guys had fallen over too, one right into a grassy smear of puke.

"That was forty minutes," Nurse Rhonda announced, stepping around the pukes piles to circle the fallen boys. "Stand up."

Trembling, they all got to their feet.

She turned on the bullhorn and laughed into it, "I FORGOT TO MENTION THAT THERE WAS NO TIME LIMIT ON THE FIRST DAY! FORTY MINUTES! AREN'T YOU PROUD OF YOURSELVES? TOMORROW OUR GOAL IS THIRTY MINUTES. BY THE END OF THIS EIGHT WEEK COURSE, YOU'LL BE ABLE TO RUN FOR AN HOOOUUURRR!" She said the word 'hour' with the bullhorn right up against a bleach blonde boy's ear, "WITH ZERO DIFFICULTY!"

Turning off the bullhorn, she grinned, "You'll need that particular skill for Running and Boot Camp 2."

The boys looked less than enthusiastic. Someone let out a helpless groan.

She tapped he bullhorn against her leg, and softened a bit, "We have a few minutes left. Wanna hear a story about General Sephiroth?"

They all perked up. Cloud almost forgot his mouth tasted like stomach acid.

"You're all bound to hear this story one way or another, but don't tell him I was the one who told you. This was way before he was General. He was Sergeant Sephiroth then," She smiled in a familiar remembrance that Cloud would have envied if he wasn't totally convinced she was a saltwater dyke, "War, right? We were locked down in total silence. No planes, no cars, no radio. Very long story short, General Sephiroth's camp found out that our medical camp was going to be targeted. So…"

She stopped to laugh a bit, "So we're in silence right? General Sephiroth wrote what was up in code, put it in his pocket and ran it to us."

The boys looked impressed.

"Fifty-seven miles."

Jaws dropped.

"In about six hours."

Cloud blinked.

"By morning we had the message. General Sephiroth ran the whole way without stopping. I won't ever forget how he looked when he showed up. Please, please don't tell him I was the one who told you this. Our camp was hidden at the bottom of a hill. He comes running down it as fast as his skinny legs could carry him … He realizes that he's arrived … but … he can't freakin' stop. He's been running too long and the hill's too damn steep, right?

"There's this huge tent in his path, and a big group of junior nurses in training out front, and he's stumbling trying to stop himself," She wiped a tear out of her eye, "And they're just kind of looking at him, not moving. He shouts, top of his lungs, arms waving everywhere, 'RUN BITCHES, RUN!' they scatter and he slams," she smacked her hand, "right into that tent. It buckled of course and the poor General and that stupid tent rolled like twenty feet! I had to bandage him up, that man was a mess! And the greatest battle cry in Shin-Ra history was coined!"

She and the boys laughed long and hard until their stomachs couldn't take it anymore.

"But he saved us. So that's an example of why we need you bitches to be able to run. Anyways," She patted her ravine of abs. "I'm going to snag some pancakes. They smell pretty good."

Groan.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Cloud stood under the shower washing literal vomit and shit out of his hair. The past hour and a half was a painful mirage of sit ups, push ups, pull ups, climbing ropes, crawling under razor wire, hopping through tire obstacles, swinging across monkey bars, scaling walls made out of dirt and mud, and oddly enough, gobbling marshmallows.

The Boot Camp 1 instructor was Coach Van Sise. He was a good looking guy, young, brown hair, olive eyes, calves of steel, college frat boy looks. And he was only as bad as he was paid to be, opting to just laugh at Cloud falling all over himself than yell at him for doing so. It being the first day, he was timing the seven boys to see how much they could do of each exercise in a minute. Then, during the last five minutes of class, he forced them to do chubby bunnies.

When Cloud had entered the locker room for a shower, he was an exquisite mess. Mud caked, sweaty, flushed, trembling, mouth covered in marshmallow stickiness. Barely able to stand, he had turned to see how the back view was doing. It was still in tact. But not as grandiose as it was going to be once he got cleaned up and into uniform.

He leaned up against the shower stall and let the hot water rush onto his head. It wasn't so bad after the fact. The pain was what it was – painful. But it was a manly sort of achy pain that made him feel useful. All morning he thought about Sephiroth, running that important message to the medical camp. He really was a hero. He deserved to be worshipped, loved. Every inch of him.
Pretending the shower wall was a smooth, strong chest, he laid his cheek against it, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. Sephiroth. He listened to good music. And he had a sense of humor, apparently. He had to have one if he hung out with the likes of Zack and Nurse Rhonda. He was brave. He was stunning in every way. Cloud absent mindedly nuzzled the cold wall.

‘Fuck, I’m lonely’, he thought, abruptly turning off the water. The shower floor was absolutely atrocious. He half heartedly swooshed some of the hellish mess into the draining water with his foot. He was in no mood to clean a public shower stall.

After drying off and putting on his uniform and shoes with reverence, it was time to tame "the beast". He had decided against keeping his hot iron in the gym locker, a decision he was regretting. But even if Cam had offered to be his pretend butch, which Cloud had taken into serious consideration, he didn't want to attract any negative faggot attention in the locker room. He shook a towel through his hair, picked up a comb and began assessing the damage manually.

"Hi."

Cloud looked and at the sink next to him was one of the boys from the morning classes. "What's up?" he replied, parting the back of his head roughly. His hair was already starting to air dry, the roots readying themselves to lift up to gravity defying heights.

"You're Cloud, right?"

"Yup. What's your name?" He ratted one spike into submission.

"I'm Skylar. This morning was fun, huh?"

Cloud looked at him. His short hair had been bleached blonde, jet black at the roots, and had been worked into a little fauxhawk. He had dark eyes. Really nice skin, tinted a soft yellow. Pale, thin lips. A smooth voice.

"Fun?" Cloud laughed, "How many marshmallows could you fit?"

Skylar turned on the water, "I got to eight."

"Beat you! I could fit ten."

"Impressive," He replied, looking Cloud up and down in his mirror.

Red Alert! We have a cute homo to port! Repeat, queer to port! Cloud swallowed, "What class do you have next?"

"I have to dig out my schedule, but I think it's Communications. You?"

"Lit," he answered with a shrug.

"Well if nothing else, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good times," Cloud agreed.

Skylar laughed a little, "Maybe by the end of this I'll be able to do ten chubby bunnies, too."

"It's easy … just relax your throat," Cloud flirted with a coy smile, immediately wishing he hadn't. He threw everything into his bag in a hurry.

Skylar's eyes widened a little and he smiled back, "… I'll do that."

They headed in opposite directions.

Cloud felt guilty. Where did that even come from? Sure, the bottle blonde was cute, but … Not that cute.
He didn't understand himself sometimes. Talking to some guy he cared nothing for and he and whips out the greatest homo pick up line in history. He stands in front of the object of all his affections and whips out the lameness like a limp cock on a Tuesday.

He put a hand to his cheek. Still felt cold from the shower wall. He needed something warm, quick, before he lost his mind.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

"I'm so fuckin' hungry. I'm so fuckin' tired. I am tungry."

"Did you throw up?"

"Yea. I threw up all over dis fuckin' kid runnin' in front of me. When I gets sick it goes like … Projectile. I couldn't even fuckin' eat lunch because of it. Zack was so right."

Psycho was sitting on Cam's stomach, being fed tater tots and ketchup. Cam tried to steal one but the little red kitten shrieked in protest.

"Tomorrow we'll pack it," Cloud said, lying on his bed like a rag doll.

"Feel like talkin' about classes?"

"Hell no."

Cam laughed, "How was it anyways?"

"Just like stupid classes back home."

"Same here."

"Take me outside. Pronto," Psycho interrupted.

"Hold it for a second. Tell me about the fuckin' hand to hand, man. I got swords this quarter instead."

"We didn't do much, it was just talking mostly, ya know? Like, rules of the class and grading stuff. The point is to try and do different types then pick the one we like best for later classes. Then I guess we're going to fucking swim a few times a week."

"You swim today?"

Cloud grimaced and looked away before quickly turning his eyes back on Cam. "Yes."

"You don't like swimmin'?"

"It's not something I've ever really like, done. And we don't have any bathing suits. He made us strip to our underwear…" Cloud sighed. " … I never wear any."

Cam gasped, "You don't wear no underpants?"

"No! What for?"

"For just such a fuckin' occasion! What did you do?"

"The coach loaned me a … Speedo."

Cam and Psycho bawled with laughter. Cloud's pillow met Cam's face.

"How was sword training?" he gritted, changing the subject.

"Same as you, talkin' just for today. But it's gonna be fuckin' bad ass, I got a cool guy. You'll like it."
Cloud nodded.

"I'ma walk dis fucker, and go eat somethin'. Much love," Cam clipped a zebra striped leash on Psycho.

"Can I use your laptop?"

"No porn," Cam said sternly.

"I won't," Cloud laughed. "Oh hey, do you have any blank CDs?"

Cam sighed, "Someday I'ma need somethin' you got. When dat day comes I don't wanna hear no lip about it," He dug out a blank CD and threw it on the bed next to Cloud.

Cam and Psycho departed, screaming out to someone in the hallway.

Silence.

The boring classes had given Cloud something he needed – time to think about Sephiroth.

The boring classes had given Cloud something else he needed – a strange version of peer approval.

Much to his surprise, he had a pre-cemented reputation as a 'funny' guy. His public humiliation had registered as an act of a class clown. When he had walked into all four different classrooms, there were four completely different groups of people that were happy to see him. No matter what he said, people were cracking up. And when he really did try to be funny, they were rolling in the aisles. At first, Lifetime of Ridicule made him feel as though they were just laughing at him. But they weren't.

It was odd though. Since when was he funny? Cloud knew the way he sounded and communicated was a little different. First of all, he was raised by a batshit crazy woman. Second, he was from an entirely different place, accents happen. Third, he was gay, and obviously so. That is the recipe for chuckles. He had honestly been expecting a lot less chuckling and more fists of bigoted fury.

But more than his flamboyant way of talking, the attitude adjustment had taken place. Even the awkward situation in swim class turned out to be a riot for everyone, including himself. True, it was embarrassing. But walking out of the locker room in a little red speedo to meet rambunctious laughter was really … fun. He simply had snapped the waistband and told them all not to be jealous.

Even if the entire school were to go against him tomorrow, he was not going to let himself be pushed down into the role of the sad outcast. It wasn't going to happen anymore. He really had changed. Accepting that fact had forced the world to accept it.

Unusual he was, outcast he was not.

He opened up Cam's laptop.

The first thing he did was type up an email to his mom. He told her he was sorry, but he was way too lazy to write a proper letter, or locate a phone. He retold the entire seminar, the most embarrassing moment of his life, and that the night ended with a drunken party and a CD from his beloved. He wrote about his classes, including the incredible story about Seph's act of heroism, and the borrowed speedo. He told her he was going to decide what to send back to Seph, and that he loved her.

The computer was only light in the slowly darkening room, he lightly tapped the keys: P.S. Momma… Am I an idiot?

Done. Sent.

Then he plugged in his Mp3 player and went about the decision.

It had already been partially made. This was not to be a single song. This was going to be a musical adventure.
What made the decision so difficult was that they couldn't just be rowdy throw up anarchy punk songs. He didn't want the music to enter Sephiroth's ears and go into his brain to be read as noise. He wanted Sephiroth to like the songs. To want to have his way with a certain blonde to these songs. They had to mean something.

Before putting the CD into the laptop tray, he took a sharpee and after several minutes of deep thought, bravely wrote: 'For only Gen. S., from C.S.'

Cloud drug over the first song to go on the CD. Hey - The Pixies. The perfect introduction. A little forward maybe, but this was no time for cowardice. He wanted Sephiroth's attention.

The second song. Be Good To Me - Anal Orgasm, number ten on the greatest record of all time. Maybe a little rough for Sephiroth's indie loving ears, but the song always made Cloud think of kick dancing with him. And there was a slow moment in the middle where Benjy begged, "I'm yours, so please … be good to me." And it was cute.

The third. Publish My Love - Rogue Wave. Oh this fucking song. How many nights had he laid in his bed in Nibelheim and listened to this, bawling his lonely blue eyes out? "Whip me, but don't beat me … " That line got him every single time. Just knowing Sephiroth would listen to it … maybe thinking about him, too?
It made Cloud's eyes water a little.

Fourth. Do You Realize? – The Flaming Lips. The first soft line was, "Do you realize you have the most beautiful face?" And speaking of Sephiroth's face, this was one of the songs that put him to sleep on the car drive to Midgar, and into that wonderful cat nap dream.
He sighed, a little tear running down his cheek.

One more makes five. Orgasm Addict – The Buzzcocks. He couldn't resist. It might not have been romantic, but Sephiroth had to hear it, it was a classic. He would either laugh or be completely embarrassed, and Cloud didn't know which one he'd prefer to see.

For a moment he hesitated.

Fuck that! Burn baby, burn.

-.-.-.-.-

Cloud knocked on the door of the SOLDIER house.

No answer. It was almost dark, he hoped Zack hadn't left already.

He knocked again, louder, and hit the buzzer, "Zaaack, it's Cloooud."

He finally came to the door, talking on his cell phone. He waved and motioned for Cloud to come inside, listening to whoever was talking on the other end.

Zack was a damn hot man. He had on only those loose blue SOLDIER pants, and the edges of what looked like tighty-whities peeking over the top. Cloud couldn't help but smell him as he passed him by through the doorway.

"But … Oookay … Yeah … I'm getting ready to leave." He was saying softly as he walked into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, obviously having no intention of going anywhere anytime soon.

Cloud pointed to the phone and mouthed 'Who?'. Zack mouthed 'My bitch' and did a yapping motion with his hand.

"I'm sorry buttercup, really. You know I love you, right? Let's not hurt each other with words." Zack said agonizingly. A pause, then he burst out laughing.

Okay, Zack was hot, but he'd be an insufferable boyfriend.

Cloud sat up on the kitchen counter, drumming his fingers and watching him leisurely pour two bowls of cereal. Zack cracked open a beer and handed it to him. The whole time his girlfriend was shouting loud enough that even Cloud could hear her.

"Please … Can you just hold on for a moment? I need to take a shit. Call me back then … Oh here!" Zack rolled his eyes and smashed the hot cell phone to Cloud's ear and departed. On the other end, there was the sound of furious keyboard typing.

"And another thing in case you forgot, you've slowly but surely made off with every decent pen I have. Now I'm sittin' here with a fuckin' ballpoint piece of shit. Tell me you're bringin' at least one back, don't talk to me about some stupid ass movie. Your hype is gonna kill it anyways, I don't even wanna see it anymore."

Cloud felt his place in the universe more acutely in that moment than he had ever felt it before. He really was just a tiny gay speck on Earth, which was a tiny speck in the solar system, which was a tiny speck in the grand scheme of life in comparison to the person whose voice was ringing in his ears on the other end of the line.

"Sephiroth?"

The typing abruptly stopped. "Who is this?"

" … Cadet Cloud Strife, Sir," He answered slowly, biting his lips.

The previously drawling voice went sharply militant, "You should get into the habit of announcing who you are when you pick up a phone. This was a private call between a General and a First Class SOLDIER."

Cloud jumped down from the counter, "Tell me what your pen looks like, I'll find it for you, sir!"

The typing slowly picked back up, and the voice softened, "Don't bother yourself with it … Why am I talking to you?"

"Sorry I'm um … " C'mon, get with it! Where was that flirtatious person in the locker room? " … Zack threw the phone at me and left a second ago. He gave me your CD last night … "

A snort, "Oh? Zack actually remembered something?" The typing was feverish again.

Cloud laughed softly, "Yeah, he did! I'm actually here dropping off one I made for you…" The words were laced with naked adoration.

There was no response, only a pause in typing, the double click of a mouse, then back to more typing.
He ran his hand over his hair, wishing to God he could see the man. Was he smiling? Did he even care? Was he … Pissed? Zack said he wasn't but … "General, I didn't offend you did I?"

"You'd know if you did," It wasn't gruff, but it wasn't playful. It wasn't anything, they were just words.

"Yes sir," A piece of reality sunk in … He'd be dead if he had offended this man. That reality … Hurt.

‘I want him’, Cloud realized more surely than ever. This was a real voice, and a real, solid man went with it. An imperfect yet deadly man. Sephiroth was capable of making mistakes, of hurting him in ways that he probably wasn't even aware of. He could rape Cloud with a disapproving look. He could kill him with a turn of his back. Sephiroth could break his heart so damn easily. Another piece of reality: It was already too late. It was already his.

Cloud let out an excited little breath, then covered his mouth when he realized it could have been heard.

Cloud usually wasn't a phone kind of person.

Sephiroth sighed slightly in response, sending a prickle into Cloud's ear, "… Did you like the song?"

"I loved it," It came out hushed and heavily accented.

"Did it answer your question?"

"Mmmhm … You're an indie guy," Cloud said slowly. He could feel a grin appearing on his face.

The sound was catching, because there was a clear smile in Sephiroth's voice now, "I've been called a lot of things, but that is definitely a new one."

"Mm! It's a good thing!" Cloud laughed.

The typing stopped again, "Well, what kind of guy are you?"

" … Maybe you'll find out," Cloud's heart was hammering, and he bit down on his thumb.

"I suppose I will."

Blue eyes fluttered closed involuntarily.

Sephiroth started to say something else but the phone was jerked out of his hand, "Okay I'm back. A pen has been located, and is in my pocket, from which I will place gingerly into your pen c- … What? … Oh, I know he is. Cloud, where's the CD for Seph?"

Cloud pulled it out of his messenger bag in a wild heartbeat.

"Amendment, I will place the pen gingerly into the proper pen cozy, and the Music Club for Seph and Cloud CD dead center of your desk … Yes sir. My mind is a steel trap, I never forget anything," Zack snapped the cell phone shut. "Phew! Now that that's over!" He picked up his cereal bowl and padded into the empty common room.

Cloud took a long moment before following. His organs were wreck and his cock wasn't sure what to do with itself.
A conversation with the General.

Only since his change in the bathroom two weeks ago had anything remotely positive come from his efforts to get something he wanted. Even though he had slipped up and acted like a whiney bitch last night, things might be working out. He wanted to be different, he was getting there. He wanted to be a SOLDIER, he was on his way. He wanted friends, now he had them. He wanted a man, but not just any.

His mind drifted back to the songs that were on the CD. Jesus Christ help him, they were all love songs. The last bit of reality sunk in. The General was about to receive a love CD from a first year student that had just flirted on the phone with him. It could be perfect, or it could land him out on his ass.

‘Please love me back, Seph,’ he wished silently, sucking in air and blowing it out.

"Where is everybody?" Cloud finally asked, picking up his beer and cereal and heading into the common room where Zack was draped over a couch.

"They all split halfway through the damn day! I had to stick around. Besides, nothing waiting for me back at HQ but work. Soooooo," He spooned Lucky Charms into his mouth and munched away. "How was your first day? You tired?"

"Shit yes!"

"You gonna make it?"

Cloud spooned some cereal into his mouth and washed it down with beer, "I can't not. I have to. I'll make myself."

"That's the attitude! And hey, it's really not that hard," Cloud delivered a long look, but Zack shrugged, "It isn't! Do your schoolwork, put your best effort into training, and before you know it you'll be there. These years fly by like crazy."

Cloud looked at him. Their little friendship was one of those strange right place, wrong time events. It had been almost instantaneous back in Nibelheim, and Cloud was surprised that it had actually carried over. Usually when someone said 'I'll look you up', it meant nothing. But then again, Cloud wasn't hard to miss what with the seminar fiasco.

But … Still.

Zack looked back with cereal filled cheeks and smiled. Cloud imagined the feeling was like having a big brother. A really, really hot big brother. Eww.

Cloud smiled, "Hey … This is going to sound weird, but don't you feel like we've known each other for like, ever?"

"You were my little sister in a past life," He responded without skipping a beat.

Blonde eyebrows shot up. Dark ones remained neutral.

" … How do you know?"

"I dunno. I can like, remember … Other stuff sometimes," He knocked back half of a beer in several long gulps. Cloud got the distinct vibe that the subject was closed.

Zack belched with a smile and continued flipping through the channels. An easy grin consumed Cloud's face and he relaxed back into the couch next to his hot big brother.

They watched cartoons in an extremely chill silence until Cloud began having trouble keeping his head up. He had lost the battle and was lying back with his chin against his chest, dozing, when he felt Zack gently rub his shoulder.

Cloud groaned and looked at the time, "I feel so lame, it's not even late."

"Today's the first day. Pretty soon you'll get used to waking up early and getting abused all day long."

"I'm sure I will," Cloud stretched. "I guess I'm gonna get going."

"Peace out, little one. I should head back, too. God forbid Seph doesn't get a stupid pen by tonight."

Cloud put on his messenger bag, "Where the hell was it at, anyways?"

Zack shrugged, "I honestly don't know what fucking pen he's crying about. I was gonna just stop at the store."

Cloud thought. Then dug through his bag, "Give him this one! Please!" It was a black gel pen with the least amount of bite marks. The General was apparently very anti-ballpoint.

"Good thinking, that way I can blame you. Cloud made off with your good pen and all he left was this little shitty one. Seph'll come after you."

Cloud hoped to God he would.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

In the darkness, there was only the bluish glow of the computer monitor reflected off of thick, black, box frame glasses.

-Cloud Duffy Strife. Sixteen years, three months old. Five feet, four inches, Blonde/Blue, one-hundred and ten pounds at time of recruitment.

‘One-hundred and ten fucking pounds?’

-Given direct order to gain weight. At time of briefing, covert weigh in, one-hundred and sixteen pounds, visible gain.

‘We needed the recruitment numbers that bad this year?’

-Skill Observations – None of a combat nature were displayed, possible drumming aptitude.

… Drumming? C'mon Zack.

Shin-Ra, after all, was out to be the best in every way. Strife wouldn't know it until he became a SOLDIER, but from the moment he approached the tent to meet with Zack two weeks ago, he had been on tape. When he stood on the mat in front of the backdrop to have his picture taken, he had been weighed. When he touched the chair to sit down, he had been fingerprinted. When Zack rustled his hair, he was taking a sample.

Be the sneakiest, have the coolest toys, employ the best of the best. That was the Shin-Ra way. But nobody was kidding themselves. The classes of new recruits were getting smaller every year. But this was just pathetic. This was scraping the bottom of the barrel.

Strife was … This kid was …

-First recruit from Nibelheim in over a decade.

This kid was fucking out there. Nervous maybe, he seemed weightless, like a leaf that had blown into the camera's field of vision, ready to blow away again at any moment. Enormous blue eyes were darting everywhere, turning around in the middle of the tent to see everything, shocking blonde hair moving like feathers with the slightest of head movements. The hair, it was …

Distracting.

And something was also all wrong with the way Strife stood. For some strange reason, he kept all his weight was on his left knee, curving the right hip. Even when he walked, the emphasis was still always on the left side, the right following along behind it smoothly. Not a swagger, it was …

Also very distracting.

‘A back injury, maybe.’

"But it's like a … thing. Do I need to keep my face neutral?" Asked a tinnier version of Strife's voice on the tape, the charmingly clipped Nibelheim accent rolling off his tongue as plain as day.

"You're supposed to smile. For the birdie?" Came Zack's voice from off camera.

There was a silent pause and then Strife crinkled up with laughter. Zack scolded him and told him to keep still while the picture printed. At that nervous, unmoving moment, an x-ray had been taken, searching his body for any attempt at a concealed weapon, or any latent defects.

-No musculature or bone abnormalities.

So it's not a back injury …

"I look good anyways!" Cloud seemed to cry in defense on the monitor.

Zack briefed him quickly about uniforms, what was to be expected of him on the first day of classes, and basic rules. Then they sat down for the psychological analysis that Strife didn't even know was occurring. It was amazing to see the ease in which Zack constructed a conversation about of a script, especially to someone who regular conversation never came to easily.

"So why the hell are you doin' this anyways? What's so great about being a SOLDIER?" Zack had asked.

It was clear that the blue eyes were thinking. As they thought, Strife began to drum on his thighs. The long fingers were just beginning to make out a distinct rhythm when he stopped and said, "I want to do something with my life. I want to … Make everyone proud of me. Ya know?"

-Family – Mother/April Strife No father.

"But aren't you sad to leave your friends?" Zack had asked softly.

This question made the boy drum harder while he thought, then stopped to say, "I'll make friends in Midgar."

"Yeah, you will! You've already made at least one!" Zack had sweetly pointed out.

Joy washed over the boyish features.

-Friendless, not of the local climate, eager to be apart of a group, easy to establish loyalty.
"But what about your girlfriend?"

"Oh I … "The boy shook his head slowly while rapping a beat with his knuckles on the chair between his legs.

-Homosexual, slightly socially awkward, probable target for hazing, suggest to be put on rape watch, suggest periodic testing for STDs.

The notes Zack had taken about Strife were so heartless, so impersonal, so fucking Shin-Ra. But he knew his friend better than that. Zack was enjoying the kid's offbeat presence. Sure enough, after the interview process was complete, Zack allowed Strife a full two hours more of personal, inane conversation regarding nothing of importance at all. The boy drummed and listened, then spoke. Drummed and listened, then spoke.

Drum, listen, speak.

Laugh.

Drum, listen, ask a question.

Smile.

After a while they quit drumming, and instead his untrained, absent minded fingers brushed into his blonde hair, parting some across his forehead, then running high up into a completely vertical spike. They traveled down his jaw and over his collar bone … Under the straps of the shirt he was wearing … Over his hip and into his pocket … And back up to pull at his bottom lip in thought.

In the dark room, white eyebrows furrowed over the thick black frames of his glasses.

At one point Zack gave him gum. Cloud chewed it until it was soft, then began pulling the pink substance from between his teeth, wrapping it around his index finger then sucking it off.

His thumb hovered over the stop button for two hours, but the he watched every last moment.

Sephiroth was hard.


A/N
1-Songs in italics are real.

2-I was appalled to learn that some people don't know what Chubby Bunny is. Have you never been to Girl Scout camp? Chubby Bunny is a game you play where you put one marshmallow in your mouth and say "Chubby Bunny". Then you put another one in. "Chubby Bunny". Then you keep going and count how many marshmallows you can fit and still be able to say it. It sounds pretty stupid but trust me – Good times will fucking roll.

3-Okay, Cloud's voice and accent. It's completely open to interpretation. Don't let it distract you, but I personally imagine it to be softly Scottish (Edinburgh). I know, I know. Tifa dresses like Dolly Parton, and almost everything else gives the impression that Cloud's a redneck, but make a little love to the notion of him being a Euro trash soccer hooligan instead. And the Midgar accent is something similar to Philadelphian.

4-Thank you again for the reviews, they mean so much to me, sincerely.