Work Text:
The grand opening of Sweet Dreams went off without a hitch. Well, there was one part of the long day that stood out to Cloud as being a little off, but he wasn’t sure if he’d call it a hitch, not really.
An hour before closing, a man clad in a red leather jacket waltzed in, causing the bakery to immediately fall silent. Cloud and Tifa shared a look before silently agreeing that Cloud would help their mysterious customer. He watched as the man hemmed and hawed at the display case, almost crowing in delight when he spotted the dumbapple pastries.
When Cloud asked if the man needed any assistance, he simply asked for every last one of the pastries they had. Cloud was more than happy to oblige him, though he found himself wondering if the man was buying a half dozen pastries for himself or to share.
Cloud hummed quietly to himself as he boxed up the man’s order. He then brought the box up front to the register, where Tifa was already checking him out.
The man then left with as much flair as he’d had when he arrived, and the other customers seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. Cloud and Tifa shared another look before shrugging and turning back to their work. It was Midgar; they’d both learned rather quickly that people in the city were strange.
A quick glance at the jar they kept by the register revealed that the man in red had tipped them rather handsomely, and for that Cloud couldn’t be more grateful.
All in all, Sweet Dreams’ first day in business had gone better than they ever could have hoped, though neither Cloud nor Tifa could have predicted just how much their strange customer would influence their future.
The next few weeks passed by in a busy blur. The bakery continued to be successful beyond their opening day, and both Tifa and Cloud were almost constantly experimenting with new recipes and ideas.
Their man in red had returned quite a few times, and quickly became a regular customer. He would always buy out their stock of anything and everything made with dumbapples, and Cloud quickly learned to keep the display cases full.
They eventually learned that the man’s name was Genesis. He seemed surprised when neither Cloud nor Tifa recognized it—it was an odd name for sure, but Cloud thought nothing more of it. With a name like his own, he wasn’t in a place to judge.
As the weeks blurred into months, Sweet Dreams became increasingly popular. Genesis even landed them a significant discount with their dumbapple supplier, though Cloud wasn’t sure how he managed that.
They settled into a routine, enjoying a peaceful sense of normalcy. Though each day brought something different, things were going well.
That was why, when on a day just like any other, Cloud didn’t even look up from what he was doing when he heard Genesis loudly announcing his arrival. It was always “Miss Lockhart” this, “Cloud, dear” that. Cloud found himself rolling his eyes as he finished filling a display case, his exasperation coming from a place of fondness.
When he finally looked toward the door to greet Genesis (he knew better than to keep him waiting for too long, after all), Cloud’s breath was stolen away.
Clutched in Genesis’ arms was a gloved hand, and attached to the hand was the most beautiful man Cloud had ever seen. He didn’t even realize his jaw was hanging open until Tifa sidled up beside him, gently nudging it shut. He could practically feel her amusement, and he didn’t have to look at her face to know that she was currently wearing a shit-eating grin.
“Hello, Genesis. Did you bring a friend?” Cloud greeted the two of them, silently thankful that his voice didn’t crack or wobble.
Genesis’ attention snapped to Cloud, shooting him a strained smile. It would appear that he’d been quite literally dragging his companion into the bakery, and only dropped his hand once the door swung shut behind them.
“Yes! Cloud, dear, this is Sephiroth. I’ve been telling him about your lovely little shop ever since you opened, and I’ve been urging him to stop by for just as long. But you know that I’m not the best at sharing, and I feared that unless I dragged him here myself, he’d never get a chance to try all of the wonderful things the two of you make.”
Cloud flushed reflexively at the praise, hoping that his face wasn’t too red when he spoke to Genesis’ friend. “Hi Sephiroth,” he said, giving an awkward little wave. He cursed internally at his actions, doubly so when Tifa snickered at his expense.
“...Hello,” Sephiroth’s voice was low and deep and smooth, though his single word sounded almost strained. Ironically enough, he seemed to be just as awkward as Cloud was.
“Genesis, let me show you what we’ve got today. I just pulled these fritters out of the oven, so you can have a warm one, if you’d like,” Tifa butted in, elbowing Cloud not-too-subtly as she led Genesis away from where they’d been awkwardly gathered around the register, leaving Cloud alone with Sephiroth.
“Um…” Cloud started, not entirely sure to say in the face of someone so overwhelmingly handsome. The man’s hair was long and glossy and silver, for Odin’s sake. But it wasn’t just his looks, no, for Cloud dealt with attractive customers on the daily and never found himself tongue-tied like this. It was that Cloud was hopelessly attracted to Sephiroth, inexplicably drawn to him for reasons he couldn’t name, reasons that ran deeper than just his stunning looks.
Sephiroth cleared his throat, his gaze settling on Cloud’s forehead—he was avoiding direct eye contact but still making it clear that Cloud held his attention. “Genesis has mentioned… many times that he enjoys coming here. I don’t make a habit of eating sweet things, but I’ve found myself curious about the food he gives such high praise to yet refuses to share.”
When Sephiroth continued staring at him, Cloud wasn’t quite sure what to do. He didn’t know how to respond, overwhelmed as he was, which wasn’t helped by the fact that Sephiroth was clearly expecting something from him. It was almost as if he was… searching for something, some reaction, some behavior, though Cloud had no idea what.
“Do you not… know who I am?” Sephiroth questioned, tilting his head slightly to one side, most of his hair pooling over one shoulder.
Cloud wondered if he’d done something wrong. His hesitance leaked out into his voice, “Well, Genesis only just introduced us. Is there a reason I’d know you? I’m sure we haven’t met before.” There was no way that Cloud could have forgotten someone as striking as Sephiroth.
“No, I suppose not.” Sephiroth shook his head gently, though he appeared somewhat shocked, as if Cloud’s words had been some great revelation.
“I’m sorry if that’s a problem. Are you famous or something?” Cloud was leaning in close before he realized what he was doing, his tone playful as he whispered to Sephiroth, “I’ll let you in on a secret—Tifa and I are kind of bumpkins. We’re from the country, you see, so we’re very behind on all the latest celebrity gossip.”
For whatever reason, Cloud’s words appeared to amuse Sephiroth, for he let out a short puff of air that Cloud knew to be an approximation of laughter. Though he wouldn’t have described Sephiroth as cold before, something in him appeared to thaw as his face softened.
“Hey lovebirds! Genesis is going to eat all of these fritters if you don’t get over here!” Tifa called out, that shit-eating grin still on her face. Cloud’s blush was back in full force, and he jerked away from where he’d been leaning in toward Sephiroth, not even realizing how close he’d gotten until he pulled away.
He gestured with his head toward where Genesis was ogling the display cases, indicating that Sephiroth should follow him.
“What kinds of pastries do you like?” Cloud asked, wanting to get an idea of what things he could recommend that Sephiroth try.
When Cloud noticed how utterly bewildered Sephiroth looked, he rushed in to help. “Do you prefer fruits or chocolate? The real sweet stuff, or something more simple?”
“...Fruit,” Sephiroth answered after a moment’s pause, eliciting a scoff from Genesis.
“You don’t have to say that just because fruit is “healthier,” Sephiroth. The whole point is that it tastes good.” Though he was chiding Sephiroth, it clearly came from a place of fondness.
“In that case, I still prefer fruit. I like it when things are sweet, but I also enjoy tart flavors.”
That was a start. Cloud figured that citrus would be a good bet, so he showed Sephiroth what they currently had—slices of key lime pie, cranberry-orange scones, lemon bars, and quite a few pastries. He wasn’t expecting Sephiroth to purchase literally everything he showed him, and was torn between being amused and embarrassed by the quiet enthusiasm the man was showing for the sweets.
Just a few moments after that, it was clear that they would be leaving. Tifa had long since boxed up Genesis’ dumbapple everything, and the man in question was munching on a still-warm fritter as he watched Cloud and Sephiroth with a smirk that was a bit too similar to Tifa’s for comfort.
Cloud handed Sephiroth a bag filled with his purchases along with his change. He flushed when his hand was gently grabbed, Sephiroth maneuvering it toward the jar they kept for tips, depositing Cloud’s handful and then some from Sephiroth himself. Before he could protest, the two men were heading toward the door, and Cloud realized that they were going to leave before he got a chance to ask the question that had been burning at him ever since their awkward introductions.
“Will you come back soon?” Cloud regretted the words almost as soon as they came out of his mouth. He didn’t want Sephiroth to feel obligated, nor did he want him to think that Cloud was only after his business.
Sephiroth turned back and tilted his head, as he seemed to do when he didn’t quite understand what he was being asked. “Would you like me to?”
Cloud was incredulous at that. “Well, if you enjoyed the pastries, and you wouldn’t mind coming by again, then we would be happy to have you here. But only if you want to.”
The smile Sephiroth gave him was so small that Cloud almost missed it, but it was no less breathtaking for it. His voice was soft as he spoke, “I’d like that.”
Though Cloud didn’t realize they’d gotten wrapped up in one another, the moment was broken when Genesis tsked, grabbing Sephiroth’s arm and dragging him out of the shop in a mirror of the way they’d arrived. He waved at Cloud and Tifa both, yelling his goodbyes as the door shut behind them.
Tifa whirled on Cloud before the door was even fully closed. “You. Are. Hopeless,” she admonished, her words and the sentiment behind them causing Cloud to fluster almost instantly.
He gave Tifa a playful shove and went about rearranging the displays to fill the spaces left behind in the wake of Genesis and Sephiroth’s purchases. The tips of his ears were red, and every time he looked at Tifa out of the corner of his eye, she was smirking at him.
Cloud was unable to deny that he wanted Sephiroth to return, but he wasn’t looking forward to the relentless teasing he was sure to face from Tifa.
Just as Genesis had become a part of their routine, cementing himself as a regular, so too did Sephiroth.
The former always entered the bakery with his usual exuberance, charm practically rolling off of him in waves, while the latter was more… understated in his approach. At times, Sephiroth would even show up in a hooded sweatshirt and tight-fitting jeans (not that Cloud was looking, of course). It was certainly a drastic change from his usual look.
Now, Cloud wasn’t stupid. He and Tifa may have been from Nibelheim, and were sometimes naive because of their isolated upbringing, but he knew that something was up with their odd pair of regulars.
They were well aware of the influence that Shinra had on the people—it was impossible not to be when one lived in Midgar. Cloud knew what SOLDIERs were, had learned on the first day they’d entered the city when he saw a pair of them patrolling. He was well aware of the power and respect they commanded.
It was impossible to miss the fact that Genesis and Sephiroth were both SOLDIERs. For one, Genesis had his sword with him more often than not. But beyond that, the most obvious sign was the way that their eyes glowed.
That was fine. Cloud didn’t mind Shinra, nor did he care what their regulars did for a living. But something told Cloud that there was something… more about the two of them.
For one, the bakery usually cleared out whenever one of them would visit. It was certainly nice to be able to have one-on-one time with their treasured regulars (Sephiroth especially, though Cloud would never admit it), but there was something else going on.
He hadn’t known who Sephiroth was before being introduced to him, no, but he had a feeling that he probably should have. It quickly became clear to Cloud that both of the SOLDIERs were very important figures at Shinra, even if they’d never told him as much.
All of this to say, when Sephiroth asked if he could start coming in after closing, Cloud was more than happy to oblige him. He’d been quietly aware that their regulars were more important than they let on for months now, and while Cloud was sometimes oblivious, it was impossible to miss the way that Sephiroth grew visibly uncomfortable whenever eyes were on him—whenever there were other customers at the bakery, really.
Cloud would do anything to make Sephiroth feel more comfortable, and that wasn’t even his bias toward the man speaking. He’d do the same for Genesis, if he requested it—the man had been supporting Sweet Dreams since their very first day in business, and beyond that, he had become a friend to Cloud and Tifa both. But Cloud knew that that would never happen, as Genesis seemed to bask in the attention he received, while Sephiroth withered under it.
The only problem with this was that, on the days that Sephiroth came in, Tifa would almost immediately make herself scarce. She needed to start prep for the next morning’s goods, she wanted to make sure their bookkeeping was up to date, the ovens needed cleaning—the excuses she used were all legitimate, but the timing was certainly suspicious.
At first, neither Cloud nor Sephiroth really knew what to do when they were left alone with one another.
They were both awkward at times, but Cloud considered Sephiroth a friend just as he did Genesis. The problem was that he often found himself wanting… more.
He couldn’t help the way he flushed and avoided eye contact the first few times they were alone together. The ice was finally broken between them when Cloud managed to get Sephiroth to chuckle by recounting the way that Genesis had nearly choked to death while practically inhaling a pastry just that morning.
Sephiroth’s laughter was quiet and never seemed to last long, but his eyes danced with merriment, and it was all Cloud could do to keep from getting lost in them.
Cloud then leaned in and whispered to Sephiroth that it would have to stay their secret—well, between the two of them and every other person in the shop who had witnessed the spectacle Genesis had made of himself. But Genesis didn’t need to know that Cloud had gone and tattled to Sephiroth about it.
When he added in a wink after the fact, he could have sworn that Sephiroth’s cheeks colored red for the briefest moment. It was over almost as soon as Cloud had noticed, so he couldn’t be sure it had happened at all.
From that point forward, things were comfortable between them. Cloud would often indulge Sephiroth with tales of Genesis’ antics (as though he didn’t witness them personally on the daily) and when he ran out of those, he moved on to telling Sephiroth about new recipes he was working on, customers who were particularly odd or funny, and even himself.
Sometimes, they talked about Nibelheim. About Cloud’s ma and how Cloud sent money back home for her each month along with copious letters exchanged between them. About how things hadn’t been the best back home, how he and Tifa somehow shared the same dream and had decided to take a chance and leave behind stifling traditions and cruel townsfolk alike.
Whenever they got to talking about Cloud’s hometown, Sephiroth always seemed especially interested. He’d never seen Nibel wolves, so Cloud told him about them. He liked hearing about the town’s legends, about the Old Gods Cloud’s ma worshipped. Oftentimes, they got so caught up in conversation that Tifa would have to shoo them out the door so that they could lock up.
Cloud didn’t particularly miss Nibelheim, but he felt appreciation for the aspects of his culture that he’d had to leave behind, and found himself glad that Sephiroth enjoyed hearing about it so much. He was overjoyed to be able to share a part of himself with this beautiful man, and knew he was lucky to have captured his interest so thoroughly.
The best part was that, when Cloud talked about himself, and even when he directed the conversation toward Sephiroth, he acted just as interested as he did when Cloud told him about his hometown. That meant more than words could say.
Whenever Sephiroth would leave after they spent hours talking, a bag of baked goods in hand, Tifa would emerge from the back to torment Cloud. She was ruthless, always asking when he was going to say something and pointing out how red he got when he blushed.
At the very least, she (usually) wouldn’t say anything while they were working, but she and Genesis were both terrors when it came to teasing Cloud, and they’d sometimes gang up on him when the shop was otherwise empty.
Cloud wasn’t sure what to do about it all, but he was long past the point where he could try to deny his feelings. Not that he’d want to. It was just that… he and Sephiroth could both be awkward at times, and he’d hate to scare the other man off if his advances were unwanted.
He knew deep down, however, that what he felt for Sephiroth ran deeper than any other love he’d known. He was a Strife, and Strifes were known for their stubbornness—he wouldn’t stay silent forever.
It was late one night just like any other that Sephiroth came to visit when they got to talking about fruit, for whatever reason.
He’d deny it until the end of time, but Sephiroth had a sweet tooth—he spent way too much money at Sweet Dreams to be able to say otherwise. But unlike Genesis, who made his love for dumbapples very clear, Cloud had never been able to wheedle out Sephiroth’s favorite fruit from the man.
“Lemons?”
Sephiroth shook his head.
“Blueberries?”
Another negative. They’d gone through practically every fruit Cloud could think of at this point.
“Pears?”
“I haven’t had one before,” Sephiroth said, his voice soft. The look on his face made it clear that he was intrigued. He was leaning his elbows on the counter, invading Cloud’s space the tiniest bit. It was a welcome invasion.
“Never?”
“Never.”
“Well, we’ll just have to change that.”
Sephiroth softened. His face, posture, everything went lax as he leaned further into Cloud’s space. He gave Cloud the tiniest of smiles, his eyes sparkling in the low light, betraying his emotions more than his expression ever would.
“Alright, Cloud. I’d like that.”
Cloud was lucky that his ma had at least a dozen pear trees. They grew exceptionally well in Nibelheim’s mountain climate, for whatever reason, and she’d always been fond of growing whatever food she could.
It took a few weeks between when he sent the letter requesting a bushel and when they arrived. They tasted like home, and he and Tifa had indulged in a few before Cloud cut them off, worried that they’d eat them all before he could even make something with them.
His ma had also sent him a handwritten notecard with her pear cobbler recipe scrawled down, though Cloud had long since memorized it. He kept it anyway.
Sephiroth would come by today. The only reason Cloud knew is because he’d asked him to just the day prior. Sephiroth had seemed surprised by his request, but he’d eagerly agreed.
Sweet Dreams closed at 4:00 each day, and Sephiroth always arrived at 4:15 on the dot when he visited. Cloud would be ready.
He spent the entire day bouncing between feeling giddy with anticipation and nervous, and he was so thoroughly absorbed in it all that not even Tifa’s teasing comments and knowing looks could get to him. She knew what he was planning, and offered him encouragement throughout the day in addition to her usual teasing. Cloud appreciated it more than he knew how to say.
The cobbler would take longer than fifteen minutes to bake, so he’d asked Tifa to finish out the day while he got to work in the back. She’d happily agreed, but the shit-eating grin never left her face after Cloud had made his request.
Before he knew it, the end of the day was quickly approaching. Cloud scurried to the back, mixing together ingredients that he’d prepared ahead of time. He was tempted to pace back and forth, nervous as he was. Instead, he settled for crouching in front of the oven, watching the cobbler intently as if that would make it bake any faster.
Cloud was just pulling the cobbler out of the oven when the chime at the front door rang. He could hear Tifa greeting Sephiroth, and then she was in the back with him, literally pushing him toward the front of the store.
His eyes landed on Sephiroth immediately, and it was just like the first time he’d seen him. He was breathless in an instant, and couldn’t drag his eyes away from Sephiroth’s gaze.
He gestured toward the tables they kept for customers to eat at, rummaging for tableware with his free hand. Sephiroth quirked a brow but obeyed Cloud’s silent request; they normally tended to stick near the counter and display cases when he came by.
Cloud made his way over to Sephiroth as quickly as he could without dropping anything. He set the pan that the cobbler was in on the center of the table, then laid out two plates, two forks, and held onto the knife he’d grabbed.
Sephiroth was already sitting down, so Cloud sat as well. Silently, he cut two slices of the cobbler, serving Sephiroth first.
It was still warm, and it smelled delicious. But Cloud wanted Sephiroth to try it before he ate, wanting to know his thoughts.
“Is this…?” Sephiroth trailed off, looking down at his plate.
“I told you I’d get you some pears to try,” Cloud said, his voice the slightest bit shaky with nerves.
Sephiroth smiled at him, his eyes softening. He took a bite as Cloud watched intently. The noise he let out bordered on obscene, but Cloud didn’t even have time to think about it, not when Sephiroth was quickly going for a second bite, then a third.
“Cloud, this is…this is delicious.” Sephiroth’s fork was clutched in his hand, and he went in for another bite before looking Cloud in the eye and nodding a few times.
When Cloud smiled, he could feel the way his cheeks dimpled. They were probably a bit red, too, but that was beside the point.
He finally took a bite of his own when Sephiroth was almost finished with his slice. It tasted like home. It wasn’t quite the same as when his ma made it, but it was delicious in its own right. Besides, Sephiroth clearly loved it, and that was all that mattered.
Before he could even ask for more, Cloud dished out a second slice for Sephiroth, smiling gently when the man thanked him.
Taking a single bite of his second slice, Sephiroth asked him, voice quiet, “Did you make this for me?”
Cloud swallowed another bite; he knew that he was stalling, but the cobbler was delicious. After that single bite, however, he steeled himself. He needed to tell Sephiroth before he lost his nerve.
Clearing his throat, Cloud suddenly felt shy. “It’s a bit silly, but in Nibelheim we have this tradition… sometimes people will make food for someone to show their love.”
Sephiroth’s fork clattered loudly against his plate, the noise almost deafening in the near silent bakery. Cloud chanced a look at his face, praying that he wasn’t upset. What he hadn’t expected to see was the look of hope that was painted across Sephiroth’s handsome features.
“Are you saying that you love me?”
“Yes,” Cloud croaked out, painfully aware of how hot his cheeks were burning. Despite the butterflies in his stomach, Cloud refused to break eye contact with Sephiroth.
“Oh Cloud,” Sephiroth said, ever so softly.
And then Cloud was being kissed. His own fork clattered to the table, but he was only distantly aware of the noise, absorbed as he was in the contact between them.
Sephiroth tasted sweet. Like pears, yes, but there was something else there too, something entirely him. Cloud reached out across the table, his hands gently cupping Sephiroth’s face as he leaned into the kiss.
He wasn’t sure who pulled away first, only that it felt as if the kiss lasted forever. He kept his hands on Sephiroth’s face, and practically melted when the other man leaned forward to press their foreheads together.
“I… me as well,” Sephiroth said, the phrasing awkward. Cloud got what he meant though, and chuckled softly before pulling Sephiroth into another kiss.
By the time they managed to pull away from each other, the cobbler had gone cold. But that was alright—it was so delicious that they ended up finishing it anyway.
Cloud would make them another one. He’d make Sephiroth anything he wanted, actually, but he did still have a bushel of pears to bake with. Maybe Sephiroth would like to try a crisp?
Though Sephiroth would never admit to having a sweet tooth, Cloud knew, just as Sephiroth knew that he had one, too (though that was rather obvious). And if they ended up developing a sweet tooth just for one another, well… Cloud was more than happy to indulge them both.