Blonde Ambition

"I love … the killer song! I love … the killer song, the song … of underground!" Cloud sang in an accent that put Ricky Ricardo to shame. Every 'killer' was a 'keeler'.

He meandered around campus after breakfast in a neon yellow t-shirt that made him and his blonde hair look positively radioactive. People actually squinted when they looked at him in the sunlight. Bottomed off with dangerously low riding black jeans and his combat boots, he looked like a happy, singing little bee.

Saturday mornings like these were nice. Lazy. Chill.

Lonely.

It had been a month. He hadn't seen Zack since the night he dropped off Seph's CD. And he hadn't heard anything from his beloved.

‘Such is the life of a military wife.’ Cloud smiled to himself. The school newspaper had little articles about Sephiroth almost daily, which he always took the time to try to read. He was always jet setting somewhere. Making extremely important, like, statements. Speaking at functions … Getting caught by the camera at a funeral, in a suit, holding a fallen SOLDIER's crying little four-year-old girl. Yeah, Cloud had clipped that picture.

So, Sephiroth was just too busy to return his musical affections … But he was keeping the faith that he would someday soon. Soon.

"La La LALALA! La La LALALA!" He whistled with the music and flipped off someone who told him to pipe down.

Soon! Soon he would see that tall, gorgeous man waiting in front of his door to sweep him inside and make love to him. Soon he would get something in the mail … Another CD? An erotic love letter? An invitation to meet? Seph's address and a house key? Soon.

Maybe today, it was the first monthly mail day.

"La La LALALA!"

Cameron was always around, who he freely referred to as his best friend. But then again, when a gay man and a straight man call each other BFFs, there is always an underlying tension there. 'Oh fuckin' man dis one girl I knew, her tits was so … oh sorry … ' Or 'You know that guy, Cam, the one with the really round ass? … Ohh sorry … '. But it could all be laughed off. Psycho had even started sleeping with him, singeing little tiny holes in his sheets. And shallow conversation with the rest of the populace was never in short supply.

Especially with Skyyylar, whose obvious crush was flattering, but for some insane reason of the heart, not reciprocated. He was so damn cute but … He was bleach blonde, not silver haired. He was Cloud's height, not towering. No, thank you. Several times he had smoothly asked Cloud to go on a date downtown, to the movies, anywhere. Every time he had gently refused … But every invitation was getting more and more tempting.

‘Seph, hurry up,’ Cloud wished.

And he was just about getting used to the exhausting schedule. Running torture had turned into something he actually looked forward to. Boot Camp class had toughened up greatly, but always made him feel euphoric after, like a painful orgasm. The school classes were teaching him more than years of school in Nibelheim. Hand-to-Hand class was his favorite. He was delighted to find that even though he was shrimpy, he could still knock a bitch down. And getting bloody lips and facial bruises made him feel very manly in a Fight Club way, especially on Trash Talking Tuesdays, when they were allowed and encouraged to be unsportsman-like. Would anyone care for a sucker punch with a heaping side of yo mama? Order up, mother fucker!

"The King of the night! He's filled with the light! He's sexy! Crazy! His song stops and he's mine!" Cloud sang out, swinging open huge glass doors.

Everyone in the Shin-Ra Military Academy head office turned their heads to see what the ruckus was, but then groaned. It was the, now usual, sight of the blonde kid making noise. He shimmied across the lobby and up to a familiar face at the mail desk.

"What's your box number, Cloud?" Asked Monty, a towering, unamused, big boned redheaded second year boy. He had a class with the crazy Nibelheim kid and was well aware of his antics by now.

Cloud threw his head to the side and belted, "He's a DJ in my dreams! He's the king and I'm a queen! We love each other in the dark when we pussssshhh … play … or stop!" He pulled out one earphone, "Box 1102!"

He put it back in and drummed on the counter softly, dancing by himself while Monty dug around behind the desk.
His mom always read her emails but preferred to correspond via snail mail for some obscure reason. He sent her a few updates over the past couple of weeks, and knowing her, there would be a reply today.

Monty came back with a small purple envelope. Yup, that was from mom. Unfortunately, that was the only mail. No other letters or perhaps packages containing rubber cast replicas of the General's anatomy. Oh well.

"What are you doing here anyways?" Cloud asked, sliding the envelope into his back pocket.

A heavy sigh, and the red head reached forward and pulled out the buds by the cord, "My name got drawn to be office bitch today. Again. On a Saturday!"

"Is it really so bad?"

Monty was stressing, bad, "I'm the glue of this office today, Cloud. Without me, who else would change the toilet paper in the bathrooms and restock the copier? Who would hand out mail? Who in this office would be able to reach the staple box on the top shelf of the supply closet? Tell me Cloud, who?"

A man in a green uniform stepped up to the desk and set down a huge stack of coffee carriers and boxes, "Delivery for Shin-Ra."

Monty grimaced, eyes darting around, "Please, please verify. Coffee is like sex to these people, they will literally tear me apart if it's wrong."

He pushed up his long uniform sleeve to read pen marks on his arm, and the delivery guy took out a pad to rattle off the order information, "Four Cinnamon Lattes for Pjat, Craig, Georgette, and heavy on the foam for Rhonda. A hot chocolate for Christine. Chilled ten shot for Sephiroth. Green tea sugar free tea juice smoothie for Kikko. Three white raspberry mocha fraps for Mari, Lynn, and Frank. And three dozen cream cheese muffins."

He nodded, paid the man, and turned to take the coffee carriers.

Now, Monty easily had about two feet and one hundred and fifty pounds on Cloud, but jumped back like a teacup Chihuahua when he saw the absolutely feral look on his blue eyed face. Long fingers were digging into the counter, and he was grinning ear to ear, little white teeth ready to tear flesh apart.

"Need help passing out coffee, Monty?" He asked dangerously.

" … Sure."

Cloud seized the small, cold cup that said 'Seph' in green marker, "Where does this one go?"

"Th-third floor. Conference room D. Knock twice."

Cloud took the drink, a straw, and two muffins in a napkin.

He bolted to the elevators like a quarterback.

Finally! Finally! After two years of hardcore crushing, after a month of intense waiting, a chance! A chance to see him, to talk to him, to be up close to him! To smell him! To touch him! To give him all the love in the universe! Finally!

Cloud bounced happily into the elevator and pressed the third floor button multiple times. Then he hit the door close button for good measure, blatantly cock blocking a woman who was trying to enter, and collapsed back into the rail in rapture.

‘His lips are going to touch this.’ Cloud thought dreamily at the seductive beverage. It swished around chocolately.

Mmm … He hadn't had sweets for quite some time … And chocolate was almost better than an orgasm. Chocolate plus Sephiroth's lips was an orgasm.

‘Oh, what the hell?’

He popped up the lid and carefully not disturbing the puff of whipped cream, took a small sip of what was surely ambrosia for a god to have ordered it. The cold liquid hit his tongue like red tide, and he shuddered severely as he swallowed it down. Wide eyed and groaning loudly in misery, he searched the label for a clue. He had missed that part of the exchange between Monty and the delivery boy, and was hoping not to find gasoline and death as the main ingredients.

'10 shot' it said it green marker. Cute, Sephiroth. Ten fucking shots of cold espresso.

The elevator lurched open with a ding. Cloud rinsed his mouth out at a nearby water fountain, and then walked softly down the hall.

Conference Room A … The door was open, dark inside.

Conference Room B … The door was closed, voices coming from inside.

Conference Room C … The door was open, sound of a janitor vacuuming echoing from inside.

Conference Room D … The door was closed … Man of his dreams inside.

Grinning like a fool, he gave two sound knocks. He wasn't exactly nervous … He was eager, anxious … Slightly aroused. He was prepared to do anything he had to do to win over whoever was on the other side of the door.

"Yes?" Came a surprisingly young, but distracted voice from inside.

"Coffee!" Cloud called sweetly through the door.

"Come on in."

He took a deep breath and opened the door quietly.

The almost pitch-black room disoriented him at first; it was so massive, and so empty. He had been expecting a meeting or something. There were two big oval tables with empty leather chairs all around them. Calm, generic artworks on the walls. The room's only light source was a huge screen that had the Shin-Ra logo projected onto it, shimmering and spinning the way corporate logos loved to do.

He let the door close gently with his fingertips and took a few steps into the room, scanning every empty chair.

"I know … " Sephiroth said slowly and quietly, " … You aren't?"

Cloud felt like he was insane. He heard him … He sounded so close … But where? … All the chairs were empty …
He turned around.

On the floor, right next to the door, sat a beautiful man.

He was leaning up against the wall, his phone cradled on his shoulder. One knee was up, supporting a notebook that he was scribbling in with one hand, while the other was buried in his radiant hair. It had to have been freshly washed that morning, it was practically alive, spilling in front of his face and over his shoulders, pooling all around him on the carpet. The movie theater-like lighting of the room made it seem like the soft color of moonlight.

‘Normal people clothes,’ Cloud dumbly thought.

Black pinstripe pants, but not stuck up or tacky. They fit like jeans, the pant leg on the propped knee riding up slightly to reveal the laces of scruffy combat boots. Pushed up to his elbows were the long black sleeves of a soft and fuzzy looking ribbed turtleneck. Cloud noticed that, in normal people clothes, Sephiroth looked much thinner than he had thought. Every limb was long and lean. Naked imaginings would have to be slightly readjusted.

Cloud looked again to his face, more specifically, his favorite part of his face. Those green eyes were dark and narrowed, and gazing off to the side, listening to whatever hateful person was on the other end of the line. In pictures, they were always such an impossibly vibrant emerald color, but now they were a dim, dusty aqua. They didn't even exude that sexy, cool confidence, but …

Sephiroth's chest moved up slowly, and he covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he stifled a yawn, white eyebrows turning up almost innocently.

… Absolute exhaustion.

‘Honey … You're sleepy,’ Cloud helplessly thought, completely out to sea with adoration.

Then he remembered that he had the antidote. He took a few small steps to Sephiroth, and knelt down in front of him.

Weary green eyes floated slowly from where they had been looking off into space to Cloud.

With almost trembling hands, he quietly spread out a napkin on the floor within Sephiroth's reach, and laid the muffins on it.

"I've been talking to you for too long." Sephiroth said to the caller bluntly. He snapped the phone shut and let it drop to the floor.

Cloud froze. His heart hammered.

Sephiroth leaned forward and took the cup from Cloud's fingers.

"Thank you," He mumbled, sounding somewhat relieved. In three harsh motions, he pounded the straw against his thigh, forcing it to burst out of the top of its paper wrapping.

Cloud sat back on his calves in astonishment.

Sephiroth's white, feline-like teeth captured the straw, and plunged it deep down into the swirl of whipped cream. Something flexed in his throat and the dark liquid crept slowly up, up, up the straw. The usually chiseled cheeks puffed out a bit, and he moved his head back, letting the straw squeeze free from between his softly puckered lips. His long throat flexed again as he swallowed, wincing only slightly with a soft, deep sound coming from his chest.

The stocks in Cloud's First Bank of Spank plummeted. Sephiroth finally held a complete monopoly of all things sexy. And to think, Rufus Shin-Ra himself had paid him an eager visit just yesterday in the locker shower. How would he break the news to such a wealthy man that his assets had just been rendered completely worthless?

"Cloud Strife," Sephiroth said after he swallowed. Hearing his full name snapped him out of his trance.

"Hello, Sephiroth," He heard himself purr. Well, maybe not totally out of his trance.

"Hello," Sephiroth answered back politely. He turned to his writing again, and took another slow, erotic drink. "Thanks."

"You are very welcome, Sir."

Green eyes flicked to him. Cloud was beaming uncontrollably.

"Is there something you need?"

"No, Sir."

Sephiroth, trained to hear lies like a dog was trained to sniff out cocaine, tilted his head momentarily, and then went back to work.

After a few heartbeats with nothing but the sound of Sephiroth's pen moving across the paper, Cloud lurched up to his knees and off of the floor. He felt that it was the polite time to leave but …

"Sephiroth?"

The green eyes looked up.

"Did Zack remember to give you your CD?" Cloud's shoulders scrunched up a bit, hoping that Zack didn’t forget like he usually seemed too.

"He did," Sephiroth scratched out something on his paper, then continued to write.

"Did you listen to it?"

"We can talk about it some other time," He said softly, and it sounded kinda like, 'Get the fuck out, please'.

Cloud winced at what he was about to do, "But … Did you? Listen to it?" He was going to harass this poor tired man, on purpose.

The green eyes looked up again, "Yes, I did."

"Did you like it?"

Sephiroth stared into space for several long moments, completely blank. Then shook his head as if he had just woken up, "I'm sorry, I can't even think at this moment. We'll talk later, okay?"

Cloud was completely charmed by the gentle pleading in his beloved's voice, but wasn't going anywhere. "It's just that it's been a while. I was wondering … If you wanted to keep it up. The um, the CD exchange thing. I really want to. I-"

"I'm busy. Later on," Sephiroth's words were becoming clipped.

Cloud wondered wildly if it was going to be necessary for the General to call security and have him physically removed from the room. It would take the entire SOLDIER fleet. It would take a tank. They would have to call a priest and arrange an exorcism.

Sephiroth continued to write furiously.

Cloud made a small, sad sound in his throat.

The green eyes snapped up, now clearly annoyed, "I'm tired. I have to get this shit done, and get on a plane in an hour and a half. You are dismissed."

Knees trembled, and words tumbled, "I can help you? Is there anything, I could do for you!" Some sort of instinct kicked on in Cloud's head when he heard Sephiroth express discomfort, and it was a desperate desire to take care of him in any way he could. By all means, get that man to bed!

Sephiroth exhaled in impatient disbelief. He closed his eyes and took several ungraceful gulps of his coffee.
"See this?" He demanded, referring to a sizeable pile of papers beside him, "Don't read them. There's a rubber stamp on the copier. Stamp them, then copy them, then shred the originals."

"Where's the copier?" Cloud asked, surprised at his calm articulation, but was beyond embarrassed at his motor mouth and was running on autopilot.

Sephiroth seemed to be confused by the question, "It's … " He stretched himself to sit up tall, peering around the room.

He groaned and pushed up off the floor.

He swallowed eagerly. Sure, he was bashful for making Sephiroth have to get up … But… Cloud hadn't realized how tight his clothes were while he was sitting. There was a split second flash of his bare lower back when his hair fell forward over his shoulders as he leaned over, collecting his things off the floor. The drink, the muffins, the notebook, a calculator, a thick book that resembled a phonebook, and he jerked the strap of a laptop bag over his neck.

He straightened up with a sigh, some of his hair swishing back into its normal position, and left the room clearly expecting to be followed. Cloud snatched up the little paper pile and was hot on his heels.
Sephiroth's walk was a tall, graceful, long legged march, and free from the long coat that hid it at the seminar. From behind, at Cloud's angle, the white inner linings of his pockets were visible, and moved in a jerky, hypnotizing up and down motion, as his beautiful hair and black laptop bag bounced against his hot, grabbable …

‘NOO! STOOOP IT!’ Cloud shrieked inside his head.

He was steadily creeping into the red. If he wasn't more careful, a situation involving six and a half angry inches of pure Nibelheim fury could develop. ‘I'm acting like a grody subway pervert.’ He scolded himself, holding the papers in front of his crotch as he followed.

They suddenly stopped, and he watched Sephiroth slide a long hand into his back pocket and withdraw an ID card. He didn't have time to make out the picture or any details on it before it was slid through a scanner next to the door and shoved back in. Sephiroth held the door open for Cloud and flipped on the light.

Big blue eyes flicked everywhere, expecting some sort of super top-secret bunker with monitors and buttons and cool shit like that. But the smallish room was plain and white, had a few large copiers, a row of shredders, a couple of vending machines, and a couch. Yawn.

"Okay … " Sephiroth said slowly, putting both hands on a copier. He plucked one of the papers out of the pile hiding Cloud's indecisive boner and laid it facedown, squinting at the little touch screen panel. He reaching into his bag and withdrew the most absolutely hideous, atrocious, thick black-framed pair of glasses Cloud had ever seen in his life. When they were slid onto the pretty mans scowling face, he thought he might die from embarrassment for his beloved. Just simply keel over. The General was unfashionable?

But then Sephiroth leaned down to him, thick black lashes and smoldering green eyes gazing through the nerdy frames, "Just copy at 70. Make sure you stamp them."

The evacuation siren went off in Cloud's tight pants.

He could see himself being roughly bent over a lab table with Bunsen burners and beakers filled with colored fluids and open textbooks, getting fucked hard and forced to recite the periodic table. So that's what they meant by geek chic.

And who was he kidding? He was rocking day glow yellow.

Sephiroth retreated and instead of leaving, fell heavily onto the couch. Cloud turned his head to peek. He had laid down, pulled out the notebook and returned to scribbling noisily in it. One knee was up again to support the notebook, the other long leg was hanging lazily off the couch.

Cloud turned back to the papers. It wasn't difficult to not read them, they were all just Sephiroth's chicken scratch handwriting all over the page, and nonsensical math equations. He stamped the first one. It was red and it declared "OFFICIAL SHIN-RA DOCUMENTATION". Yeah, it was official, all right. He made a pile of originals to be destroyed, and a pile of the freshly baked copies. Six and a half inches calmed down to about two. Phew.

Sephiroth let out a long, drawn out yawn.

"Espresso isn't kicking in yet?" Cloud asked. He felt a little bit wired from his tiny sip.

He only made an irritated little 'mmrmph' sort of noise in response.

Cloud smiled. It might have been slightly awkward, but he was still spending actual time with his sleepy beloved.
The copier was whirring pleasantly. Sephiroth's sloppy left hand was scritching and scratching across the paper. There came the sound of a straw gargling on the bottom of an empty cup. It was a little rhythm. He began to tap it out with his knuckles on the copier.

"Cloud Strife! Drop and give me fifty!" That evil fucking female cackle. That voice that haunted his nightmares.

Almost without thinking, Cloud fluidly dropped to his hands on the floor.

"What are you doing in a faculty copy room?" Nurse Rhonda barked as Cloud began pumping up and down.

Before he could explain himself, there came a low growl, "He's with me, cunt."

Shocked to all hell, he stopped his pushups and looked up at Sephiroth. To his terror, the General had gotten up from the couch, and hurled his notebook on the floor. Nurse Rhonda marched straight up to him.

‘Oh snap!’ Cloud screamed in his head.

But instead of killing each other, they threw their arms around each other.

"Sephy Cocoa Pop!" She squealed, her arms around his neck.

"Fucking bitch!" He growled, lifting her momentarily up off the floor.

To Cloud's utter astonishment, Nurse Rhonda roughly grabbed Sephiroth's delicate, gorgeous, smiling face, smooshed his cheeks together, and planted a loud kiss right on his mouth.

They immediately began questioning each other on their whereabouts, it had been months, apparently, months! Why wasn't Sephiroth at the annual art show? Why wasn't Nurse Rhonda at the new term seminar? Why didn't Sephiroth attend Julie's baby shower? Why the fuck didn't Julie call and tell him the shower had been rescheduled? Well, she left the message with his secretary. Someone was getting fired. Rhonda couldn't stay long. Oh noooo.

They sat back on the couch, completely lost in their own little world.

Cloud's eyes narrowed. With her hair down and her not sweaty and screaming through a bullhorn she was … Rather lovely. She was wearing an athletic pullover hoodie and jean Bermuda shorts, and men's sandals. Okay, she's a lovely dyke. Cloud felt something like relief, all the affectionate nothings were just friendly … Right?

She pinched his cheek and he flicked her forehead. She punched his arm and he elbowed her in the side.

'Okay, breathe, they're just friends.'

Slightly embarrassed, he picked himself up off the floor and contemplated leaving. But seeing Sephiroth acting cute and conversational … Well, Cloud always had been a nosey little faggot. He turned back to the copier and listened intensely to their conversation, especially when Nurse Rhonda said: "You don't look so good, sweetie. How many cals a day are you getting?"

Sephiroth grumbled, "Enough. Around Three thousand."

"Up it to three point five. You sleeping well?"

He lowered his voice. Cloud strained, trying to put his hearing on its tippy toes over the noise of the copier, 'They something me on something something makes me something something.'

Nurse Rhonda wasn't concerned about keeping quiet at all, "What the fuck are you taking that again for?"

His voice lowered even more, 'Something something.'

"How long?" She demanded, almost frantic.

"I don't want to talk about me, damn it. I'm alright," He said with a tense smile in his voice. "How's Julie?"

"I'll tell you, when you tell me how long."

A sigh, "Maybe about an hour."

"I'm gonna raise hell."

"Don't. Do not."

"You are twenty-two-years-old, all grown up now, kiddo. You should be able to talk to him yourself. But since you won't, I will."

Cloud's eyes went wide. Twenty-two? TWENTY-TWO!? Every single magazine said he was twenty-five!

He stole a glance at the two of them on the couch. Blue eyes squinted at Sephiroth's face. Sitting next to Rhonda he looked … Very young.

‘HE IS TWENTY-TWO! PRAISE GOD! Only six years apart … Not nine! …’

But then Cloud slowly blinked and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. He hadn't gotten a good look at him outside of the dimly lit conference room. His beloved looked young but also … Sick. Very sick. Had he been so wrapped up in his attraction that he didn't notice how ghostly pale Sephiroth was? His gorgeous lips were badly chapped. His unusually dim eyes were dark pink around the edges. It was true that he was thinner than Cloud had thought …

Maybe almost too thin. The only part of him that looked remotely healthy was his hair.

Sephiroth's eyes flicked to Cloud, who quickly turned around.

His voice lowered again, and this time Nurse Rhonda somehow managed to lower her own. They murmured back and forth, she sometimes hissing words, he sometimes growling them. Slowly they returned to a normal volume.

"Well, her sonograms were a couple weeks back … It's not an it. It's a them."

Sephiroth said something softly.

"One's a boy! That's all we know!"

Cloud heard more kisses, then the soft sounds of hugging and promises to call. A heat rose up in the pit of his stomach. Ow, jealousy.

Suddenly he felt a rough hand pull back his hair, and he was surrounded, "Why on Earth are you cooping up my student on a Saturday?" she asked, grinning down at him.

She ripped open the lid of the copier, mid copy, and put her own paper down.

"I'm not cooping anybody up. He offered to do all my work for me."

Cloud turned to look up at him. Sephiroth was leaning against the hot, busy copier, arms crossed over his stomach, looking down at him with a boyish smile. Mmm! Under the weather maybe, but he was still sexy!

"Well, be good," Nurse Rhonda commanded to Cloud, taking her papers. She messed up blonde hair and tugged on silver, and was gone.

"You don't have to stay and do this, Cloud. You can go whenever you want."

"I'll stay."

Sephiroth pushed off the copier with a shrug, "Suit yourself."

They went back to the little rhythm of the copier and the chicken scratch.

Cloud went through the motions like a robot, and let his mind wander.

He replayed the way Sephiroth slightly crossed his eyes when Rhonda kissed him over and over. He recited the entire Little Mermaid song Under the Sea. Was Sephiroth okay? He thought about what it would be like to be a pro surfer. He recounted from sixteen to twenty-two, making sure it was only six years. When Sephiroth was in second grade, Cloud was crying in a crib. When Sephiroth was starting to jerk off, Cloud was learning to play soccer. When Cloud was starting to jerk off, Sephiroth was becoming a Sergeant in the military. In a perfect world, I Need You Tonight by INXS would come on over the intercom, Cloud would drop to his knees and crawl over to the General of the Shin-Ra army, and make him know how much he was loved. I need you toooniiight … Boomboomboombop … Because I'm not sleepin' … Boom boom … There's somethin' about – you – Seph … Boomboomboombop … That makes me sweeat. Boom de boom de boomboomboom!

"Why do you do that?" Sephiroth shouted out suddenly, laughing a little.

Cloud realized he had been tapping loudly on the copier, "I'm sorry, Sir!"

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes at him with a smile.

He seemed to be in a much better mood since letting the espresso marinate and having a little chit chat with his friend Nurse Rhonda. Cloud went into double time for him, quickly copying and quickly shredding everything in large chunks, putting a real effort into keeping his wandering hands still. Every so often Sephiroth would tear out a finished page of his notebook and slide it across the tile floor to him.

Cloud suddenly, in the light hearted mood of the room, felt his unwelcome depression lapping at his feet like a slow but steady tide. His heart no longer belonged to him. A month ago, it had been an exciting concept. Now, it was more like watching a hurricane on the horizon line. He truly loved that man on the couch, but he knew it was going to be next to impossible for it to work. How would he ever make the leap from being a student sucking up and making copies to … Someone to love? He could hear Sephiroth now.

"You actually think I'm gay, Cloud?"

"You actually think I'm single, Cloud?"

"Cloud, I'm gay and single and your little love CD was really cute but … You're just not my type at all."

"Seriously, stop trying to suck my cock, you're making me laugh. I'd rather masturbate alone in the shower with my hot ass self than have to suffer through your pathetic little attempts at pleasing me."

Cloud pouted.‘I'm going to try!’

Besides, he wasn't such a terrible little catch. There are worse people to have wanting after you than a blonde haired, blue eyed cutie pie. He might not have been a gladiator, but he had everything he needed to get the job done. He might not have had the familiarity of Nurse Rhonda, but they really just met, he'd be grabbing that handsome face for kisses soon enough.

Cloud loved him, and wanted to take care of him. If that wasn't good enough for Sephiroth … Well, there's a lot to be said about roofies.

He laid the still warm pile of copies on the arm of the couch, next to Sephiroth's propped up head.

Sephiroth laid the notebook down on his chest and simply smiled up at him.

Sephiroth smiled a lot. In news pictures in the school paper, it was handsome and professional. On the cover of TimeWeek, it was confident and secretive. At the seminar, his smile had been small, tight, and a little confused. With Rhonda, it had been the wide, careless one of a friend. This was something different altogether … Sexy. What a shocker. Spending a little time with the man proved that just about every movement he made was dead sexy. But poor Cloud couldn't help it. Not when those smiling lips were chapped, but full, and oh so pillowy and kissable. He could see the crack in the center of his bottom lip clearly, almost feeling the roughness of it on his tongue.

And with him lying on the couch like that, long legs stretched out so invitingly, Cloud had to wonder where to put the quarter in for a ride. Subway pervert.

He helplessly smiled back, hoping that his own face would look half as alluring in those green eyes, "When do you have to get on your plane?"

Sephiroth looked up and over Cloud's shoulder, "Mm. Soon."

"Did you finish everything?" He asked with genuine concern.

"Close enough," Sephiroth answered, closing up the notebook and clicking his pen closed.

Cloud summoned up all of his courage, " … Do you have time to eat before you go?"

The corners of his mouth deepened and pulled the sexy smile farther out, "No."

Cloud nodded. Blue eyes dropped to the floor.

"What are you doing next weekend?" Sephiroth asked, sitting up and swinging his legs over in front of him.

Blue eyes shot up, "Absolutely nothing."

‘Did that sound desperate?’

"Nothing? On Halloween?" Sephiroth asked curiously.

‘Oh shit, it is Halloween. Play it off. Keep it real. Be honest.’

"I'm a nerd."

‘Not that honest, stupid!’

Sephiroth rested his elbows on his knees, "Zack always plans some sort of thing … You're friends, right?"

"Yeah. I haven't heard from him in a while, though … "

"Mm. He's like me, fuckin' workin' all the time," Sephiroth yawned and blinked lazily.

‘There it is!’ Cloud thought, ‘The Midgar accent.’

He rested his cheek against his hand and looked up, "I'm in town Saturday, a bunch of us are going out. You should come along."

Cloud gasped like a fish out of water, "Really?"

Sephiroth scratched the back of his head, "Well, if you want, that is. It might not be much fun for you. I'm sure they just want to go out to some bar."

He couldn't contain a tiny hop, "That sounds awesome! Are you sure?"

"Of course. But wear a costume," He warned. "I get to strip you naked if you don't."

Sephiroth went about collecting his things. He wasn't joking.

"O-ookie," The pink cheeked blonde finally answered, and winced at the Nibelheimness of it.

Sephiroth smiled broadly and stood up.

"Thank you again for your help," He said, looking down.

Cloud craned his neck and looked at him.

‘Right about now would be a good time for my first kiss,’ He informed Sephiroth telepathically.

Like clockwork, Sephiroth said, "There's something I want to give you."

Instead of slipping him some tongue, he dug through his bag for a moment. He took out a small, thin CD holder and unzipped it.

"I was planning on getting it to you sometime before I left town today, I know it’s been a long time," He murmured, his long fingers flipped through, found the one they wanted and withdrew it. He looked at the underside unhappily.

"It's scratched," Sephiroth held it out like a pokeball.

Cloud poked his finger through the hole in the center and flipped it to take a look at the underside. He hiked an eyebrow. Atrocious.

"What can I say? It's been through a war."

War.

He tried hard to keep his cool, to hide how deeply moved he was to be holding such a thing. This was what a hero listened to. He turned it over to find that the other side had been designed to look like a retro fish tank.

"Touch Society," Cloud read quietly.

"They're the best. My favorite."

Cloud held the CD against his chest and looked up at him.

Sephiroth flipped through the case a couple more times and showed Cloud his own CD.

He grinned and counted off on his fingers, "Already knew the Pixies, but I was glad to hear them. Went out and bought the Anal Orgasm CD. I listened to Publish My Love a lot. Flaming Lips are just okay," and he exhaled almost sing songly said, "and Orgasm Addict was completely ridiculous. But it was my favorite."

Blue eyes narrowed hazily. That was nasty, filthy, dirty smut talk to a music fanatic.

"But, take care of that one. It's beat to hell, but I want it back."

Cloud nodded and rubbed it a little with his thumb. Some of the grime shifted.

"Hmm. Maybe I can do something." Cloud pressed his tongue against the reflective side of the CD. He tilted his head and ran it in a wide circular motion, getting the entire thing wet. Then he took the edge of his shirt and polished the CD gently. Some of the scratches were deep, but it actually helped a lot with the smudging.

He showed the fresh side to Sephiroth.

But he wasn't looking at the CD. Sephiroth was looking at him.

Okay, maybe he didn't have to tilt his head when he licked the CD clean. Maybe he didn't have to pull up his shirt quite so high.

Cloud smiled up at him sweetly.

‘Kiss me!’

Sephiroth stood there for a few more moments before walking to the door.

"Next week," he said, and disappeared.


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


Cloud unlocked the door and let himself in, only to find yet another goddamn Cameron's clothes mess. Cam had more clothes than a drag queen. After a morning like that, the last thing he felt like doing was picking up after him.

He stumbled out of the bathroom wearing only boxers, "Help."

"No! Clean it yourself!"

"Not da mess. I need help." There was a scared look in the normally cocky brown eyes.

"What is it?" Cloud sighed, frisbeeing the purple envelope from his mother and Sephiroth's CD onto his bed, the only place in the room not covered in strewn garments.

"Well see dere was dis girl back in the neighborhood, Michele. Sweet to me, nice tits, cute as fuck. She um … "

Cloud smiled, "Do you have a date?"

Cam's arms went crazy, "Nooo! Hell no! She was just sayin' she like … Missed me or somethin'. She wants to go get a fuckin' pie tonight."

" … That's a date."

Brown eyes, normally huge, were completely round, "Help."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Queer eye me."

He burst out laughing, "Okay! I can do that. Hrm." He went to the clothes still on hangars in the closet and picked through them.

Then made a beeline for his own closet. Secretly, Cloud couldn't wait to play dress up. Cam was like a brother, but his body was incredible, and the past month of hard training only enhanced it. Cloud would have given his left nut to have thighs like his. He thumbed through his jeans and threw a pair on the bed, "Put those on."

"Cloud, these is too fuckin' little!"

"They're a size bigger than my usual. Try it, can't hurt."

The jeans were a dirty greenish wash, and as Cam zipped them up they hugged his hips low and tight. Cam usually did the baggy pants thing and it worked, but this looked amazing. Not wanting to scare him, he just nodded neutrally, "They look okay … Are they comfortable?"

"Yeah … I guesso." He turned around a little, looking down at himself. He pushed in the pockets that were sticking out, tugging the jeans even lower. In a perfect world, Cloud would have sent him on his date just like that. But the world was a flawed and unfair place, so that meant Cam had to put a shirt on.

"Put on a black t-shirt. One that fits, not hangs off of you. No curse words on it."

He did. The effect was perfect.

"Put on your white belt, and your uniform shirt over it, unbuttoned."

"I should wear da uniform out?"

Cloud smiled, "Women love a man in uniform. And it'll remind Michele that you're a little less … Shall I say available than you used to be. Get it?"

"Smart fucker!" Cam looked at himself approvingly in the bathroom mirror. Cloud starting to kick clothes back into the offending closet.

"Michele was sayin' dat like … Heh she might beat my ass if I don't kiss her or somethin'."

"Kiss her like she's never been kissed before," Cloud advised absent mindedly, hanging up the shirts before they wrinkled. He wanted to share his own big news, but felt that the timing was off. Cam seemed extremely fired up about his actual love life, last thing he needed to hear was more about Cloud's pretend one.

"Ya ever kiss a girl?"

"All the time," He said sarcastically.

"How about a guy?"

Cloud looked away, "Nope."

"Well, you's are like, kinda like … You're like a girl, right?"

Cloud, holding one of Cam's heavy metal shirts on a hangar, stopped cold."I'm like a man."

"No shit! I ain't tryin' to offend you's. But you's have kinda like a girl's fuckin' perspective on some stuff, right?"

"What are you trying to ask?"

"Well, if a guy kissed ya, how would you want him to work it?"

"Oh. Well … " This was something he'd put quite a bit of thought into, especially in the past twenty minutes. He put down the shirt and took a step toward Cam, who immediately went frigid.

"Don't fuckin' kiss me! Just tell me!"

"I'm not going to kiss you! I wouldn't want to waste it on your ugly fucking stupid sorry ass!" Sometimes the only way to put a straight man at ease is to insult him. Cam immediately relaxed and laughed.

Cloud walked up to him, "Okay I'm going to be you and you be Michele," he grabbed Cam's hard chest and said in a gruff Midgar voice, "Michele, I fuckin' loves ya tatas."

"I don't fuckin' talk like that!" When Cam said 'talk' it sounded like 'towalk'.

Cloud laughed, "Yes, you do. Alright, if you think she wants to kiss you, you have to be sure, right? So just touch her face," He cupped Cam's jaw gently, "And maybe do something with her hair," He twisted his fingers into Cam's chin length strands. "And maybe do something involving, but not engaging the lips," He brushed his thumb over Cam's bottom lip, pulling it down a bit, "And be gentle about it, if she doesn't kick off your dick, move in slowly … "

Cloud inwardly panicked as Cam actually leaned in, eyes narrowing, "Oh, Cloud … " He breathed sexily, " … I think ya just turned me into a homo … "

Cloud burst out laughing and shoved him away violently but Cameron grabbed him into a fierce hug, "Thanks."
Without another word he shoved on his black converses, kissed Psycho on top of the head, and headed for the door.

"Hold it!" Cloud put a few spritzes of what Cam referred to as 'fagalicious fragrance' on both sides of his neck, "Did you use mouthwash?"

Cam nodded.

"Don't swear so much!"

Cam shrugged.

"And when you eat pizza, don't use garlic. And pay her a sincere compliment. And don't forget your wallet, you have to pay for everything unless she's a feminist."

He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket slightly, showing that it was there. They smiled at each other and Cam left with a slam of the door.

Cloud sighed, shoveled the rest of Cam's clothes into the closet and leaned the door closed. He could deal with it himself later.

He pushed Psycho gently to the side and laid down on his bed. He picked up Sephiroth's CD and ran his lips thoughtfully over the rough scratches.

War.

It was so …

’… Romantic,’ Cloud realized.

He pulled out Cameron's laptop and played it.

If a thrift store could sing, that's exactly what it would have sounded like. So, what's the equation here? Nerdy glasses … Plus espresso … Divided by black clothes … Multiplied by long hair … Plus indie music to the one hundreds power. If Sephiroth wasn't the General he'd probably be smoking on the corner downtown in polyester pants, scribbling screen plays instead of office work. Maybe in that simpler alternate universe Cloud would be down on that corner with him, pulling cigarettes out of his mouth to steal kisses, and being the Nordic punk muse for his crappy poetry.

‘My indie guy,’ He smiled.

He rolled dreamily to his side, and spotted the letter from his mom. He picked it up to open it. But then twirled it around.

He had quite a lot of … Ammunition. The music … The memories of this nice little morning … The crack in that bottom lip … If he waited, some of the details might get blurry. Room to himself … Hmm …

Psycho farted.

He rolled his eyes and sawed the envelope open with his finger. Inside was a note, and a smaller envelope. He read the note first.

‘Cloud.

‘No, you're not an idiot. Well, maybe for not wearing any fucking underwear, but hey, I won't judge. I'm glad you're getting along with your roommate, I want pictures.
‘Baby, I'd have more to say about your school but I need to tell you something.
‘Your father came here yesterday.’

Cloud read the sentence over and over.

‘He came by with your step brothers.’

A small sound echoed in his throat.

‘You know, I got rid of every picture of your dad and I really don't think that was right of me to do. He had blonde hair, and blue eyes too. But you really don't look like him at all, you favor me. Your brothers look like their mother, they had darker hair. They're fifteen, and thirteen.’

Cloud's lower lip trembled in anger.

‘Your dad apparently has his own construction business. He wanted to expand to Nibelheim, and came by seeing if you wanted a job and to "reconnect". Recon-fucking-nect? Don't worry, Cloud. He has a brand new asshole where the old one used to be. But I made him and the boys stay for dinner. I told them all about you. Please, please, take it from me, kid. He's sorry that he missed out on you.’

Cloud's eyes watered in utter shock.

‘And also take it from me that you didn't miss out on anything. He's not the man that I knew. He is nothing like me, or you. I regret that you never met your father. But I'll never regret having you all those years to myself. We did okay, right?’

He nodded silently, and read on.

‘But he left this for you. I didn't open it, you see first. But I do expect a phone call telling me exactly what the son of a bitch had to say! So, please call me. I'll tell you anything else you want to know. Be good, and Godspeed on your little pathetic love life. I love you.’

He read the entire letter a second time and sighed.

Every single birthday was tinged with hope that he would call, show up, something would come in the mail, anything. Anything. Sometimes, even up until just a few years ago, on perhaps a Saturday, he would get the random notion that maybe his dad would finally be curious enough, finally have the time to see him.

But please believe, he was glad he wasn't there now that it had actually happened. He wasn't a quiet, weak boy waiting in the window. He was going to be a goddamn SOLDIER. His son was going to be a strong man without his help. They could construct whatever the fuck they wanted to. Cloud was his mother's son.

He flipped the smaller white envelope over and over. He braced himself to tear it apart.

But instead ripped it open. A card, how cute.

"To my son" Hallmark said in softly calligraphic letters. He opened it and sighed disdainfully as a check floated to the floor.

Inside it had printed: "A past full of regrets waiting to be forgiven. A future full of new memories waiting to be made". Wow, they really make cards for fathers who abandon their sons. Charming.

In blue pen, a scratchy handwriting:

‘To Mr. Cloud Strife
‘I came here to see you, and it's my own fault that I am too late and you have already moved on with your life. I cannot say I love you. But I have thought about you everyday of my life since the last time I saw you. You are my son. I left my address with your mother, if you want to say anything to me. Your brothers would like to know you. Please take this, it's the only useful thing I can offer you now.’

He ripped the card in half. Psycho enthusiastically puffed a little fireball at it, and Cloud blew it out like a birthday candle.

Money.

He stared at the check on the floor. So, what was the amount? How much does it cost to blow off a son? To miss every birthday, every holiday, every soccer game, his first steps and words, the first day of school, every Saturday morning? How about puberty? How about seeing him off to the military? How much did it cost to opt out of being a dad?

Cloud picked it up.

And gasped in disbelief.

One childhood, bought and paid for. Would you like that gift-wrapped?

He threw on his shoes and bolted.


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


The woman at the bank had given Cloud a horrified look when he asked for it all in hundreds.

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Look, I'm going to cosign for you to get a bank account. There's no way I'm letting you carry this much money around."

"You're just a bank teller." He pointed out. She glared. He opened an account.

"The check has automatically cleared. You'll get your bank card in the mail in about five business days."

"But I need retail therapy now, sister."

"I'll give you two hundred, no more."

Cloud smiled sweetly up at her.

He then hopped the rail to downtown. He had a specific goal in mind.

Cherry's Tattoos and Scarification.

The door jingled as he walked in, the sound of blaring heavy metal escaping into the street. The walls were plastered with tattoo options, and photos of the shop's work. He was admiring it when a woman stood up from behind the counter out of nowhere.

She was in her thirties, short pink bobbed hair that was probably a wig. She had on a bright purple corset and black vinyl pants. Her tits were pushed up to infinity, and the moved like liquid with every movement she made. Her arms were completely covered in tattoos of scantily clad pin up women. On her collar-bones were two large pistols facing each other, swirly clouds all around them, and between her breasts, the Virgin Mary. Her eyebrows, bright pink lips, and chin were covered in piercings.

"Hey," She said.

Cloud walked right up to the counter as if he was ordering fast food, "I would like a tattoo, please."

She squinted, "How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"I.D.?" She countered.

"I must have left it at home … " He said hopefully.

"According to Midgar Tattoo code, column four, section eight, all customers who wish to be tattooed must be visibly sober and have proper identification," She lit a cigarette.

Cloud's eyes dimmed, "Oh."

"But I can pierce, brand, or scar you," She exhaled.

"Brand? Like chocobos?" he winced.

She smiled and poked his cheek with a sizzle sound effect.

"Scar?"

"It's a surgical blade. Cherry's specialty," She made a slicing motion.

He shook his head quickly, "Well, what kind of piercing do you do?"

"Anything you want."

"But what do I want?" He weighed the options.

"Well, the left ear is always popular."

"Everybody fucking already has that. I want something different … " He scratched his chin in thought.

Her green eyes lit up, "Hey, that's not a bad idea." She pulled his chin up. "You have a good face for a labret," She touched the metal ball beneath her bottom lip.

"Really?" He had never considered it.

"Yeah, you have a cherub face. That would look pretty sexy. And it's a good place, when you take it out you don't even see the hole. And it closes up in about a week if you don't want it anymore."

"Okay!"

She had him sign his life away on a do-not-sue-me contract and laid him down on a parlor chair.

"You're sure, Cloud?" She asked.

"Do it," He nodded.

"Alright. We have traditions here at Cherry's," She reached into a drawer, pulled out a pink blindfold, and wrapped it around his eyes.

"Um …" He stammered as he felt her straddle his lap. She pulled down his bottom lip and put something cold and metal inside of it, holding it open.

"Breathe in," She commanded.

He gave a shaky little breath.

"Like at the doctor, breathe in deep."

He swallowed, and tried again, even shakier than the first.

"Labrets are dangerous you know … " She said softly, pressing against him. "It really makes people want to … "

"Hut?" He asked, mouth held open.

"Fuck your face."

He gasped in. A quick, sharp pain, the thick sound of flesh being torn. He blew it out.

"Excellent!" She said, quickly hopping off of him and pulling off the blindfold. She removed the metal mouthpiece and wiped his chin off delicately.

"That's it!" He asked in disbelief.

"All done," She screwed something on his chin. "Doesn't hurt, does it?"

"Not at all … " He got up and checked himself out. She had screwed it a black metal spike, just below where his pinkness of his bottom lip ended. He had seen guys with them before, and it always looked kinda kinky and tough. But on him, it looked simply … Cute. His skin was little bit red, but fucking hardcorely.

"What do you think?"

"It's awesome!" He threw his arms around her neck.

"A little less permanent than a spur of the moment tattoo, right?"

He smiled sheepishly, "I still want one … "

"Check this out," Turning around, she pulled down the back of her pants exposing a butt cheek. It declared, in purple graffiti print, 'FUCK DA HATERZ'. "Think long and hard about it, little Cloud. Spur of the moment tattoos can be a huge mistake," She laughed.

What would he have gotten? He actually had no idea.

"Sixty gil," She announced, then starting throwing items in a black bag. "Leave it in when you go to bed tonight. Rinse your mouth out with this after you eat, clean it at night with this and a q-tip, put your spike in this when you're not using it. Don't let anyone pull on it for at least a week."

He handed over the money and nodded. Good timing. Hopefully in about a week someone would be pulling on it.

"One more thing," She stepped around the counter. "We have traditions here at Cherry's."

Taking his face, she pressed her mouth firmly against Cloud's bottom lip.

His first kiss came and went.

His face was bright red and his eyes were like moons when she pulled away with a pop. When he saw himself in the mirror he realized she wasn't exactly kissing him, she was leaving a big pink lip imprint around his new hardware.

"Don't wash the Kiss of Approval off for one full hour, or else it'll be doomed to infection," She warned sternly, applying more lipstick.

Cloud laughed softly, still quite embarrassed, "Really?"

She snorted, "Don't fuck with tradition. You should see how serious Prince Alberts take it."

He winced, not only at the notion of having his cock pierced, but that the same mouth that kissed anonymous dicks had just kissed his own. Yeesh!

"Thank you!" He said, flailing the bag a little.

"You're welcome sweetheart. I'll see you again soon, I'm sure."

The door jingled as he opened it to leave. She called, "Be careful with that thing! It unleashes some freaky shit in people sometimes!"

He looked back, "Girlfriend, I'm counting on it!"


A/N

1- The song Cloud is fagging out to in the beginning of the chapter is The Killer Song – Carolina Marquez. Under The Sea, I Need You Tonight, and the songs Sephiroth mention from Cloud's love CD are all real. Touch Society is made up. I wanted to keep Cloud and Sephiroth's favorites fictional.

2- Thank you thank you for the fabulous reviews! Leave more, I'm using their energy to power my robots.