Archive of Our Own ^beta

Rain isn’t something that comes often in Edge anymore. Whether it's from the planet mostly withering away or something else is anyone’s guess, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s rare. Still, on the odd time it does rain, everyone ends up stuck at home.

The water was never completely clean before, but now it was outright toxic at times. With what little natural water sources are left, and the leftover reactors, sometimes the rain gets tainted with mako and whatever else is left to get sucked up by the clouds. It leaves people stuck at home with nothing to do. Confined to their rooms, watching droplets hit the floor with the most concerning green tint to them.

No one bothers going outside. No one except for Cloud.

Because of his enhancements, he could step outside and ignore the risk of potential mako poisoning for once. It was a guilty pleasure of his admittedly. Already, he tended to leave both Tifa and the kids alone for longer than he’d notice to deliver packages or drive around. When it rained though, he sat outside. No one else would be there, and he’d still be within earshot of them.

It could never perfectly replicate the feeling he got speeding through the wastelands on Fenrir, but it was as close as he could get without feeling guilty. Cloud could just close his eyes, listen to the raindrops hitting the ground, and breathe. Like nothing could hurt him anymore. Like he was the only person left on the planet. That was why he never left Edge when it rained, and normally it’d stay that way.

Except, some things did change. Which was what led Cloud to end up sitting in the middle of the wasteland instead of where he should be: at home. He frowned, watching the pitter-patter of raindrops falling around him. They did nothing to calm him down. He’d been outside long enough for his clothes to go from drenched to water-logged, but he still wouldn’t move.

He wasn’t sure how to go back. Not in a “I got lost" way, but in a “coming back would make it awkward again and then we’d both feel guilty” kind of way. It was always like that, but nowadays it’d gotten worse. All because of something that happened just a few months ago. That single incident permanently changed all of their lives. For better or for worse.

Cloud tensed up, refusing to take his eyes off the ground. Though it was raining, his enhancements let him hear things through it better. That was why when the sound of footsteps thumped faintly behind him, getting closer with each step, he held himself back from turning around.

Instead, he waited. They got closer and closer until finally, they stopped right behind him.

No one except Cloud could go out in the rain, but that was only because he was a SOLDIER. If someone else was enhanced as much or more like—

“You’ll be late for dinner.”

Him.

Then they would have no trouble at all.

Cloud blinked slowly. “Came all the way here just to say that?” His voice was carefully level. Not too low, not too high. If it were anyone else they wouldn’t have heard his voice through the pouring rain. Right, he’d forgotten that things had changed. No one could go out except Cloud…and now Sephiroth.

It had been months since they first found him lying just outside of Edge half dead. Cloud wanted to finish what had been started, but then he woke up. His terrible, piercing eyes were the same as they’d always been. Except, they held no malice, no sadistic glee. Only confusion and bewhilderment. There was no Masamune to lash out at him, no wing for him to take flight and tower above him. There was only a man left to his devices.

And against Cloud’s judgment, he’d brought the man home.

There were constant fights about his staying there. Not that he blamed Tifa. If anything, he should’ve been agreeing with her. Maybe go back to where he laid him down in the guest room, wrap his hands around his throat, and snap.

But he didn’t budge. Despite everything, Cloud still had his morals. Sephiroth was weak and didn’t even have his sword. And he refused to attack an unarmed man. Even if it was him. He’d only ever retaliated against those who wished to do him or the others harm.

So, Sephiroth stayed with them. With him. The months that followed were nothing short of both dizzying and chaotic, but they managed. Now, he could almost say that life was peaceful.

Almost.

“Miss Lockheart wanted me to inform you.” He pressed his lips together. Tifa took the longest to get used to him. Not surprising, considering well, everything. Still, she learned how to meet on equal ground with him and they got along well. Enough for her to ask him to seek Cloud out and bring him home like he was some runaway pet it seemed.

He huffed, feeling a spark of irritation jolt through him. “Oh, so it was Tifa, was it?” He asked for no reason other then he could. Some part of Cloud hoped it’d irritate him. Get him annoyed enough to draw his blade and fight him. Months had passed, but he still wasn’t sure how to live around someone like Sephiroth. How could he?

These moments where they’d simply talk felt wrong. Almost alien. That’s not what they were made for. At least, not anymore. Because Sephiroth was a weapon made by humanity that turned against them, and Cloud was a nobody forced to become his executioner.

They weren’t made for talking.

He could feel Sephiroth hesitate for a moment. It only made that small spark in his chest grow even more. The air around him tasted earthy and processed all at the same time. Cloud licked his lips and felt the sting of mako through cracked skin. “What? Not gonna say anything?” He said. The rain continued to pour on them, and Cloud wished it could wash him away with it. Whether he meant himself or Sephiroth, he didn’t know.

“You’re going to get sick.” He said softly, gently. Cloud nearly missed it from how quietly he spoke. Maybe it was the way Sephiroth said it. Maybe it was because he was already in a mood today, but he couldn’t help the way his body almost shook with anger.

It was absurd. How can they exist together without immediately going for their throats? When had it gotten to a point that Sephiroth had learned to speak like that? So kind and soft and everything he shouldn’t be. Cloud brought it upon himself. He should’ve left him, he should’ve killed him, should’ve grabbed the Fusion Sword and run it through him. Instead, they were here and they were talking and they were living and they weren’t fighting.

Cloud growled, shooting up from his spot on the ground. His body was heavy but did nothing to stop him from whirling around with a scowl. He didn’t know why he felt this way. He should be happy that they’d found some semblance of peace together. If they kept it up, then he’d never have to turn his sword against him. He wanted that. That was good. He didn’t understand, and it only made him angrier.

Sephiroth looked nothing like Sephiroth. His hair was flattened against his head and his clothes were a sweater and sweatpants that were just as soaked as his own now. He always thought that if they ended up fighting in the rain it wouldn’t touch him somehow. Because the very idea of him was so otherworldly that it felt like not even something like the weather could affect him.

But here he was. With rain pouring on him relentlessly. Making him look like a pathetic cat drenched in water. Droplets trailed down his cheeks, eyes bright and never losing their glow. He looked like he was crying. For a moment, Cloud wondered if it looked like he was too.

He curled his lip up. “Oh, fuck off,” he hissed. There’s no rhyme or reason for this, but he can’t get rid of his feelings, so he pushes them on Sephiroth and hopes it hurts. “Don’t start acting like you care now.” He has though. He’s been caring for a while. Long enough that Cloud could slowly feel himself letting his guard down around him, for Denzel and Marlene to feel safe in his presence, for Tifa to help him cook with her.

Sephiroth knew this too. Which was why his brows furrowed ever so slightly, making an expression of ‘Why are you acting like this?’ “Cloud…” he said before trailing off, and isn’t that funny? If that was all he needed to do to get him to shut the fuck up they wouldn’t be here standing like idiots in the first place.

He shivered, his body seizing up from the cold. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Cloud asked, ignoring the fact that he wouldn’t even be out here if it weren’t for Tifa. “Always chasing after me, always breathing down my neck.” His chest still burned with a fire that made him grit his teeth. He wanted to stop talking, but if he did then they’d go back to that calmness that was weird, wrong, and not like them at all.

Slitted pupils narrowed and a laugh threatened to escape him. Sephiroth’s hands curled up slightly, but loosen before they can form solid fists. Cloud wasn’t sure if what ran through him was disappointment or relief.

“Let’s go back—”
“Shut up!”

Silence.

Cloud’s hands twitched as if wanting to grab onto something. His body shuddered again. Sephiroth’s eyes widen slightly as rain droned on like static in his ears. It filled every inch of his mind until there was no room left to think and it hurt.

“This is ridiculous. Talking like this, like nothing ever happened.” It’s what he used to repeat to himself in the beginning. That one day he would wake up to a sword in his chest and wouldn’t even have the time to regret helping Sephiroth before it all went dark. It never happened, but he still told himself it would one day.

Sephiroth frowned, looking at him with furrowed brows. That small, nasty part of him that was speaking right now couldn’t help but feel vindicated at finally making him feel something negative. This was what they knew—what he knew. He grinned, feeling the sting of his lips cracking. “Cloud, what—“

He cut him off. “I can’t stand it,” Cloud said. “You treating me so nicely like you…you…” And then he stopped. The words refusing to leave his mouth. There was coming to terms with each other's presence and then there was whatever was happening between them now. What might’ve always been as far as Sephiroth was concerned.

If he gave a name to it, spoke it out loud, then Cloud wasn’t sure they’d be able to go back. They couldn’t hide behind anything anymore and would be forced to deal with it. Everyone knew that Cloud wasn’t the most emotionally intelligent person, including Cloud himself. So, he ended up doing what he did best. Deflect and dodge what’d made him tense. Only this time something in his muddled brain wanted to make it sting.

Cloud looked into vibrant, bright eyes and felt like he was being doused in flames instead of water.

“You don’t know how to love.”

It was said like a statement. A known fact that everyone knew. Sephiroth was a monster. Sephiroth tried to destroy the planet. Sephiroth didn’t know how to love.

His eyes grew even wider as the static in his head grew deafening. Raindrops dripped down Sephiroth’s jaw in a steady stream. He wondered if he really was crying now. That the rain was trying to wash them away faster than they could form. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was too.

Sephiroth’s voice was quiet when he spoke. “…Why would you..?” He sounded hurt, but that couldn’t be it. The man in front of him has never known hurt. Only caused it. His hands balled up into fists, his pupils thinned into lines, and oh, Cloud thought. He’s pissed.

But because Cloud Strife is Cloud Strife and because his ears are ringing and because his body is both ice cold and fiery hot and because he doesn’t know why he won’t just shut up he keeps going. “It’s true though, isn’t it?” Sephiroth pressed his lips into a thin line. Cloud ignored the way his eyes followed them.

“You don’t know how to love.” He said one more time, just because he could.

One moment Cloud was staring at Sephiroth, the next he was gasping for breath as his back slammed against the ground. Already a dull ache began to spread from his chest and he swore he could hear his shoulders creak from how hard he was gripping them.

Sephiroth was above him, straddling his hips with nothing but pure hatred in his eyes. His lips were twisted into a snarl as he bared his teeth at him. Long, silver strands of hair hid them away from the world, leaving the two of them with nothing but each other. Sephiroth had always seemed like a monster wearing the skin of a human, but when he stared into his eyes Cloud couldn’t help but compare him to an angel funnily enough. A disheveled, furious one ready to enact divine justice on who had wronged him.

He never looked more beautiful.

His hands loosened their grip on him and slowly moved to his collarbone. Sephiroth’s touch was feather light, leaving him shivering as he almost caressed the skin. Then, he started moving up, up, up to his neck. His lips relaxed from their sneer, his brows began to relax. Sephiroth’s pupils never widened though.

He closed his hands around his throat like he was cradling something precious in them. Cloud stared blankly into his eyes as the pressure grew just enough for it to feel tight. Everything was muffled. The rain sounded less like static and more like a distant memory.

“That’s right, go ahead,” he said with a grin slowly forming, “It’s what you want, right?” It’s what I want too. Sephiroth looked down at him emptily, rage having cooled into nothing. He took in a shuddering breath, tightening his grip a little more. Cloud laughed, feeling a pit begin to form in his gut. Dread welled up inside him even when a smile spread across his face.

It was odd how even if Sephiroth was shielding him from the rain, he still felt it drip onto his face. Not only that, but it was warm, not at all cold like he knew it to be. He looked at Sephiroth and his almond eyes and his sharp jawline and his—

Tears.

Tears were hitting his face.

And just like that the suffocating heat within him was smothered. Cloud grew limp under his hold, feeling the slight tremor from his hands he couldn’t hide. His breaths were slow as he felt his own eyes sting.

…It didn’t feel good. Not that he expected it to, but it felt awful. Hurting Sephiroth felt awful. It felt wrong to even think that was the case. Hurting him was what Cloud did best, just as it was what Sephiroth did best. So, why did it feel so hollow?

“You don’t mean that.” It took a moment to realize it was Sephiroth who spoke. “However…I expect a lengthy apology when we get back.” Despite the tears, despite the shaking, his tone was carefully poised. Sephiroth eased his grip on Cloud’s neck, before removing it entirely. Some part of him wished he kept them there. Another part was undeniably proud that he didn’t fall back on any violent urges. It proved that he made the right choice. He could be better. He was getting better.

Cloud, for all his exhaustion, still felt like he needed to respond and mumbled, “What makes you think I don’t?” There was no bite left in his voice. He blinked slowly, not even trying to summon up the energy to look mad. His body was so, so heavy. Even if his mind was slowly clearing, everything still seemed so far from them.

“Cloud.”

He huffed out a laugh. Yeah, he deserved that. He deserved worse actually. For starting all of this over nothing. Why was Sephiroth even there again? Oh, right. To tell him to come back home. Cloud felt his throat close up. He was trying to help him, and all Cloud did was lash out at him like a child. He couldn’t even remember why he got pissed in the first place.

Cloud sighed and turned his head to the side. “…I’m tired of fighting,” he mumbled. He might as well have said he was giving up, but Cloud didn’t have the will for it anymore. Not when it all seemed so pointless now. Waiting everyday wary that Sephiroth would show up out of nowhere again. Tracking him down to kill him over and over. If wasn’t a life he was content with living.

“Then why do you keep trying to start one?” Sephiroth said. He looked as exhausted as Cloud did. Maybe even more. His blank stare crumbled as he hunched over and buried his face into Cloud’s neck. With Sephiroth breathing shakily in his ear came the rain that he’d been shielding him from.

It felt a little too familiar.

He blinked back flashes of black hair, blue eyes—

Stop.

Cloud wasn’t there anymore. He was outside of Edge, being held by his walking nightmare all because he was being stupid and decided he wanted to start shit. It was a good question though. Why? Why was he even doing all of this? Now that he had calmed down, it was painfully obvious.

The peacefulness. Being able to even breathe the same air as Sephiroth felt almost blasphemous. We’re supposed to hurt each other, he thought. I’m supposed to kill you. But they weren’t and now Cloud was left grappling for anything because…because…

“…I don’t know what else to do,” he said.

Because Cloud was a fighter and peace was something that could never be granted to him. He won’t let himself have it. Cloud needed to fight. If he didn’t, then was he Cloud Strife? Sephiroth was his enemy, a monster that he had no choice but to throw himself at. But, now that they were at this…standstill, he didn’t know how else to treat him. He held in a scoff. How pathetic must he look? Admitting that he hoped they ended up going back to killing each other so he doesn’t have to learn how to live without it?

Sephiroth didn’t say anything back. Cloud couldn’t find it in himself to blame him. He wouldn’t know what to say either. “You’re right,” Cloud mumbled with a small laugh, “I think I might be catching something.” He felt his lips part to take a shaky breath near his ear. When he exhaled, Sephiroth pushed himself up.

He stood up, looking at him with an emotion Cloud was both too tired and scared to label. He’d already reached his limit for emotional vulnerability. Now, all he wanted to do was sleep away his feelings. Sephiroth slowly raised his arm, holding a hand out to him. Cloud blinked at it, his mind empty of things to say.

He looked at him with lidded eyes. “She’ll be worried,” he said. Right, Tifa. His stomach churned at the thought. Cloud could already imagine it. Her anxiously tidying up the bar, taking nervous glances outside, wondering when they’d come back.

Cloud was a horrible man for putting through so much. Often, he couldn’t help but wonder why they bothered with him. Sephiroth, Tifa, everyone. He sniffled, ignored the stinging in his eyes, and reached up to grab his hand.

Sephiroth helped him up with a gentleness he hardly deserved. His legs nearly gave out on him, but he willed them to at least stay upright. Cloud lowered his head, letting his feet move to where Fenrir was parked. A warmth spread from his lower back and he leaned into it, looking up slowly. Sephiroth was frowning at him. His hand was so warm, it was the only thing keeping Cloud’s focus.

He spoke and Cloud tried so desperately to listen. “You can’t drive.” It wasn’t a question. Cloud tilted his head down in a nod, struggling to hold it back up. Sephiroth hummed, “Very well. I hope you still have strength in your arms.” He felt his hand guide him towards the bike and didn’t bother fighting it. How funny, that only now does he allow himself to be tugged around by him.

Cloud let him ease them both onto the bike. He leaned against his back, letting out another sigh. His arms slowly looped around Sephiroth’s waist as he started up Fenrir. When did he take them? He should be alarmed, hell, Cloud would’ve never let anyone ride his bike, least of all Sephiroth. He couldn’t find it in himself to protest though. Cloud just wanted to go home.

Before he could think of anything else, they moved. He allowed himself to curl into Sephiroth more, tightening his grip on his waist as he began to ride towards Edge again. Cloud closed his eyes, feeling the wind against his hair. It felt weird being the one at the back. Weird, but not unpleasant. That could be because he felt like he was weak enough to slip off at any moment though. Cloud blinked through heavy eyelids.

A hand grabbed his arms. Ah, he was starting to lose his grip. Cloud held his waist tighter, which was smaller than he expected. His hand lingered for a bit, stroking the back of Cloud’s own with a thumb before letting go.

They didn’t say anything about it. Cloud rubbed his cheek against his back, ignoring the way his sweater stuck onto him from how drenched it was. Slowly, he closed his eyes, shutting the planet out.

For once, the darkness that surrounded him was a comfort. He could pretend that he was anywhere but where he was now. Cloud knew there should be more they needed to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to start it. They were both tired. This he knew for certain at least. He could feel it in the way Sephiroth was just a little too relaxed against him.

It’d be funny if they ended up crashing. For the thing to get them both to be a stupid bike accident because they were driving in the rain and neither of them were fit to drive. He nearly laughed at the thought. Cloud Strife and Sephiroth, injured in a tragic accident outside Edge. Ah, but Fenrir would get scratched, maybe even worse. He’d skin them both alive if his baby ever got damaged.

“I don’t know what to do either.” He furrowed his brows but didn’t bother opening his eyes. “What..?” He muttered. Cloud wasn’t sure if he heard him over the rain clearly, but Sephiroth shifted as if looking behind him.

His voice was almost small when he said back, “What you said. I don’t know what else to do either.” Then, he turned forward again.

Cloud laughed, “Really? Doesn’t seem like it with the way you act.” It was a gradual change, but the Sephiroth from now was someone Cloud never thought he’d see in him. He was awkward, but kind, always gentle, always trying to be useful, and always tried to be considerate of both Cloud and Tifa when memories caught up to them. Sephiroth had changed. Cloud didn’t know how to handle that change, and it seemed that he felt the same.

“I’m just better at hiding it than you,” he said. Cloud barked out a laugh, curling himself tighter against him. Normal people would probably start complaining about how hard he was holding on. For Sephiroth though, he was almost positive he could squeeze are hard as he could and still only manage to maybe fracture his ribs.

It used to be annoying just how much stronger he was, now it was more of a comfort than anything. He shove him around as rough as he wanted and the worst he’d ever get was probably a bruise or two.

Another pause fell over them, but Cloud didn’t mind. Usually, there was a small tenseness to Sephiroth, one he could feel now when he wasn’t done talking but didn’t know how to word his next sentence. Cloud listened to the rain drone on until his back slowly uncoiled in tension.

“I’m not sure who I am, if not a weapon. This newfound…domesticity we live in…” he paused, hesitating for a moment. “It terrifies me.” And wasn’t that something? For the Sephiroth to admit he was scared? He couldn’t help but laugh. They really were a little too similar.

Cloud nudged his head against his back. “Well, if it means anything, I think you’re better now.” The words felt clunky in his mouth. He was sure there was a better way to say it. With more prose and elegance. But Cloud was a fighter. Not a politician.

His hand came back to hold onto his arm. “Thank you, Cloud.” He took a deep breath, holding on tighter. “I…” As always, Cloud didn’t try to rush him and waited even when he grew quiet. He wondered if they were in Edge already. Were they rushing through the streets almost at Seventh Heaven? He didn’t think Sephiroth would be the type to start speeding, but then again, he hardly knew anything about this side of him at all.

“I’ve…always thought of you as someone of radiance. That has never changed once. Whether we are fighting, or simply existing, you are Cloud Strife.”

Cloud felt as if he’d been socked in the gut. He pressed his forehead against Sephiroth’s back and let out a wet chuckle. His throat tightened up while his eyes began to burn through his eyelids. “…Thanks, Seph.” He whispered hoarsely. Warmth spread throughout his arms as Sephiroth shifted his hand to rest his entire forearm against them. They said nothing for the rest of the ride, and if Cloud tried to memorize how it felt being pressed against him, the warmth of his body, only he’d know.

“Uh-uh, not a step closer!”

“But, Tifa—“

“Don’t ‘But, Tifa’ me! You two aren’t taking a single step inside like that!”

Cloud slumped his shoulders with a sigh. “Alright, just grab us a towel or something.” Tifa placed a hand on her hip, a frown marring her once peaceful expression. The very moment they got back she went from stress cleaning to holding them back with a mop in an instant.

“Oh, I will, and don’t think we won’t be talking about this. Especially you,” she pointed the mop to Sephiroth who already had lowered his head in shame, “you know we have an umbrella, so I don’t know what in Gaia’s name possessed you to walk out here without one. Expect to be on dish duty for the rest of the week.”

“Yes, Miss Lockheart,” he said morosely. Cloud stifled a snort at the very image of Sephiroth getting scolded like an unruly teenager. They all also carefully ignored the fact that Sephiroth would happily do the chores anyway regardless of if he was told to or not.

Denzel and Marlene were watching the scene from the bar in safety, not even trying to hide their giggles. Cloud would frown at them, but with the state of his hair right now, it probably would make him look even more pathetic. “You’re lucky I had a feeling you’d take forever getting back. Food’s still not done—you’re helping me with that too, Sephiroth.”

This time Cloud did laugh when he just nodded as if he were taking on a solemn duty and not cooking. Cooking that he liked doing at that. Tifa sighed heavily, walking towards the back of the bar. She bent down, coming back up with two towels folded on top of each other.

“Here,” she walked towards them and held each towel out, “and take a bath.” Her nose wrinkled up. “You reek of mako.” Cloud huffed but grabbed one just as Sephiroth did the same.

“Thanks, Teef,” he deadpanned, “wouldn’t have noticed.” She smiled at him widely with her teeth peeking out. “Anytime, Cloud. Oh yeah, you’re doing the laundry by the way.” He nodded and ruffled his hair with the towel, glancing over to see Sephiroth step outside to wring his hair.

And wow did he forget how thick it was. There was practically a pond forming with how much water was being twisted out. The kids just kept laughing away at their misery. Brats, he thought fondly. They deserved it though. Being able to be immature, and he’ll be damned if he ruined their fun.

By the time Sephiroth had finally stopped flooding the streets with rainwater, Cloud was already dry enough that he wasn’t completely soaking wet. It seemed he was drying himself off while wringing his hair because he stepped back inside with a damp towel.

Tifa held her hands out, which were now protected by rubber gloves. When the hell did she get those? Regardless, they handed them over without a word before trudging up the stairs. Now that things had calmed down, Cloud felt his eyes grow heavy again. He blinked slowly, staring at the steps, counting them. One, two, three, four—

He tripped.

An arm shot out and wrapped itself around his waist, keeping him up. “Cloud?!” Tifa was at the bottom, eyes scanning for any injuries. “I-I’m fine, Teef,” he said. “Just tired.” An understatement, but they didn’t need to know that. Unfortunately, he couldn’t help leaning against Sephiroth’s side as he groaned. His mind sluggishly tried to scream at him to stop being a baby and stand up, but his body wouldn’t cooperate.

Sephiroth’s hold tightened. “I got him.” He said before promptly moving his arms over his shoulders, under his legs, and lifting him. Cloud did not yelp as he scrambled to hold onto him. “What are you doing?” He hissed. Sephiroth didn’t respond and climbed up the rest of the stairs.

To Cloud’s dismay, he still wouldn’t let go even after they reached the second floor. “You can’t shower alone.” He was getting real tired of him speaking like that. Cloud laughed, looking up at him with a grin.

“Well, even if I couldn’t, ‘s not like you’d come in and help me.” He snorted at the very idea. Sure, his body still felt a little heavy, but he was fine. There was no way Sephiroth was genuinely offering to help him anyway. Cloud could manage, he didn’t need help.

He heard a sigh before Sephiroth opened the door to the bathroom. Cloud blinked, letting himself be lowered gently onto the toilet seat. No…He wouldn’t—

His head snapped up with wide eyes staring at him. “You can’t be serious—“

“Wait here while I get our clothes.” Sephiroth then turned around and left, ignoring Cloud as he yelled, ”I can’t even go anywhere, asshole!”

He hoped the kids didn’t hear that.

Sephiroth came back in record time with a bundle of what was a t-shirt, sweats, and a sleeveless turtleneck. He placed them on the sink and turned to the bath to start filling it up with water as Cloud’s cheeks slowly heated up once reality began to set in. Sephiroth was dead serious about helping him shower. Him. And Sephiroth. Showering together. Naked. A naked Seph—

“Stop treating me like a child, I-I can shower by myself!” He yelled, shoving those thoughts into the deepest recesses of his mind. Sephiroth raised a brow at him, wholly unconvinced. “You needed to be reminded to keep your grip on me when we rode back here and nearly fell on the stairs if it wasn’t for me being there, so you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t quite believe you, Cloud.”

A shudder ran down his spine hearing his name. “And I’m not ‘treating you like a child’.” He pressed his lips together, furrowing his brows. Vibrant green eyes flickered across Cloud’s face as if searching for something. Sephiroth parted his lips and spoke softly, “Is it so hard to believe I want to take care of you?”

Yes, was his immediate thought, yes it is because you’re not supposed to want that. He held his tongue though, and just sighed. Even if he didn’t want to fight, it seemed his mind couldn’t stop itself from trying to.

He wrapped his arms around himself, curling up to hide his expression. The words echoed through his mind unwilling to be ignored. Cloud didn’t need taking care of. Much less from Sephiroth. He was strong, he was fine, he…was so, so tired. A hand hesitantly rested itself on his head and gently, fingers threaded through his hair.

Cloud leaned into it, closing his eyes. His stomach twisted up in knots feeling how carefully he stroked his head. They weren’t made for this. Whatever softness they’d fallen into. They weren’t, but Sephiroth was trying anyway. Cloud could do that too, if he allowed himself to.

His hand slowly moved to his cheek, cradling it as if he were touching something precious. Cloud raised a shaky hand to hold onto it. “Okay,” he whispered. His thumb stroked his cheek as he sighed.

Sephiroth gently pulled himself from his grasp as Cloud started to fully surrender to the fatigue that’d been building up the whole time. He leaned back against the seat as Sephiroth began taking off his clothes. Cloud would’ve been mortified, if not for how he treated it like it was something normal.

He took the buckle of his pauldron and carefully undid it, slipping the piece of armor off, and setting it aside. Cloud tried unzipping his turtleneck, wanting to at least help somewhat, but he batted his hands away. “Let me,” he murmured. Cloud huffed, but let himself be pushed away.

It was quiet with only the zipper being heard as he slowly unzipped his turtleneck. Sephiroth grabbed the fabric and eased him out of it, folding it neatly to set aside with the pauldron. Then, he paused. His gaze locked on a specific point on his chest. Cloud didn’t need to check to know exactly what he was staring at.

Sephiroth raised a hand before almost flinching back as if he were burned. His pupils narrowed into slits as he looked in…horror..? Distress? Either way, Cloud snorted at him. He had to hold back a scathing remark about it. Why do you think you have the right to have such a look on your face when you made it? He was glad he felt bad, but he couldn’t quite stop a small pool of bitterness from welling up in his gut.

Cloud raised his arm, and roughly grabbed his wrist. The muscles underneath tensed up before relaxing again almost instantly. How touching that he trusted him that much. Cloud pulled it closer, closer until fingers brushed against the scar. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he let go, dropping his arm in his lap and wrapping it around his waist. Sephiroth’s touch was featherlight, unsure if he should pull away or not.

”Go on,” Cloud said, “just this once…I’ll allow it just this once.” Feel what you did to me. Run over each cut. Engrave this in your memory, like how I did. He wouldn’t let him forget. It’d forever be a reminder of what he suffered through, and it’d be a testament to what they’d leave behind. Slowly, Sephiroth pressed harder against his skin. His heartbeat pulsed under his touch, betraying his calm expression. Sephiroth moved his hand across the raised flesh, his touch leaving trails of fire in their wake.

He felt raw. Like each stroke was another gash in his chest, flaying him open to bare all his deepest secrets on display. Maybe Sephiroth could tell that Cloud letting him touch his scars was a confession in itself of his acceptance.

He felt worshiped. In the way that only a human could be. Fingers became an entire hand, then two as he ran them all over his body. His eyes looked at each one closely, as if recalling when each exact one was made. Cloud wanted to laugh. He’d know, wouldn’t he? A slash on his rib earned a caress, one near his stomach gained a stroking thumb. Cloud shuddered, his skin pricking up as his hands continued to roam. His body was never treated like…like it was something to be treasured.

He felt…

…

Cloud felt loved.

Sephiroth finally stopped and rested a hand on his hip. The other was placed flat against the scar near his heart again. His pupils slowly dilated, almost forming circles. Before Cloud could ask what was wrong, he lowered his head. “…Allow me.” He said and moved his hands to the apron strapped to his hips.

The moment was broken. Whatever Sephiroth wanted, he seemed to be satisfied now. Not even a single acknowledgement of what had happened. Typical. Cloud rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I have a choice, is there?” He said wryly. Still, he lifted his hips to help him take off the apron, then his pants, and then with much much hesitation, his briefs. It helped that Sephiroth had no reaction to him being stark naked in front of him. He just picked Cloud up again to ease him into the bathtub. Then, he turned the faucet off and Cloud saw Sephiroth begin to take off his shirt. For all his embarrassment before, he didn’t look away as he did.

It wasn’t for any weird reasons. It was simply that he couldn’t help but stare. The man always had the air of being above everyone else. Cloud had stopped seeing him as human long ago so the sight was confusing. A Sephiroth that had regular human needs like hygiene, was able to get completely drenched from rain, and could look anything less than perfect.

So, he watched. If Sephiroth was bothered by it, he didn’t say anything. Just stripped down to nothing with a precision he’d only expect from him, because even when taking his clothes off he had to make it seem flawless. Cloud looked at his chest and pressed his lips together. How unfair was it that Cloud was all scars from front to back while Sephiroth’s own body was completely spotless? He expected something like envy, maybe even that all-too-familiar anger to roll in.

Instead, all Cloud felt was relief, oddly enough. Maybe he should want him to look scarred, show the cuts he knew he had made. But, that wouldn’t make him feel better. Not really. It wouldn’t make any difference either way. At least he was spared this, he mused to himself. At least only Cloud would bare such a burden.

They wouldn’t forget their history—his crimes, but they could try stumbling past it, something that couldn’t be done if Cloud felt bitter over Sephiroth not being littered with scars like him. Forgiveness was something Cloud couldn’t give just yet, but someday maybe…

…Maybe.

He looked away when Sephiroth began taking his underwear off. There was some shuffling, him folding and arranging their clothes he figured, before Cloud had to make room for him inside the bathtub.

Now, Sephiroth was a huge guy. So to expect them both to fit inside a tub that definitely wasn’t made for someone his size was a tall order. Still, by some miracle, they made it work, which involved his legs nearly being folded in half as Cloud was forced to press his back against his chest.

“Aren’t you uncomfortable?” He asked. Sephiroth shook his head and grabbed a bottle of shampoo. “Not much. It feels nice.” Cloud raised a brow, trying to turn around to look at him. His shoulder was gently nudged and he faced forward again. “Didn’t take you for a caregiver,” he mused.

There was no response. He felt his fingers thread through the hair on his nape and gently scratched at his scalp, working his way up. Cloud hummed, relaxing against him, and felt an odd warmth curl up in his chest.

“…Neither did I.” He huffed out a laugh, closing his eyes even as Sephiroth covered them with a hand as he washed out the shampoo. Cloud knew that if the person he was months ago saw this scene he would’ve keeled over in pure shock. Sephiroth too, probably. But there they were, not killing each other, not even fighting.

A part of him wished he could take this moment and hold it close. To guard it carefully from anyone or anything else so he could keep it all to himself. No one would see the care that Sephiroth used, the trust that Cloud was willing to give, that this moment was the most at peace he’d ever felt.

He’d like to think they were getting better at it.

When they finished scrubbing off all the grime from the rain, Sephiroth had gone to help Tifa with dinner as he’d promised. Cloud on the other hand was watching over Denzel and Marlene who were currently drawing at the bar.

Well, Marlene was and Denzel was just scribbling a line or two when she told him to. He watched the two of them with amusement as they argued over giving the sun a smile because ’The sun doesn’t smile, Marlene!’ And ’I don’t care! The sun wants to be happy!’ Cloud wondered if he should be breaking it up before deciding that as long as it didn’t escalate, a petty argument or two wouldn’t matter much in the long run.

By the time dinner was done and he’d set the table they were done fighting anyway and a bright grin ended up being clumsily drawn on an orange sun. He smiled when Marlene showed him as they were about to eat. It was a drawing of five rough stick people under a sunny day. Cloud looked at each of them before stifling a laugh. It was obvious who was who. From the sharp yellow spikes of his hair to the smoother flow of Tifa’s.

Then there was Sephiroth, who was sporting a wide smile like everyone else with gray crayon scribbled all around him in one big block of what was supposed to be his hair. To top off the rather beautiful portrait were bangs sharp enough to pierce the heavens framing his face. Cloud clapped a hand over his mouth in a desperate attempt to stifle his laughter.

“It’s—“ A shaky breath, “—it’s perfect, Marlene. Why don’t you show Teef and Seph? I’m sure they’d love it.” She nodded gleefully as Cloud sat back and watched her bounce over to the two of them.

Tifa took one look at the drawing before biting her lip to hold back a giggle. She grinned widely, hiding her laughter better than him, but with the way her lips twitched, he knew she was fighting to stay calm. “It looks beautiful.” Tifa rasped, gently taking the drawing from her.

Then, she turned to Sephiroth, who was staring at it with a blank expression. “Thoughts?” Marlene’s attention zeroed in on him and Cloud snorted. Of course, his opinion would matter most to her. He blinked slowly, tapping somewhere on it. “Why are we holding hands?”

“‘Cause you like-like him, right?” Tifa coughed, twisting her body to hide her face as Cloud felt his heat up. How long had they danced around the possibility of…that all for it to come crumbling down at the hands of a six-year-old?

Denzel snickered, smirking at Sephiroth. “Yeah, you really, really like him, right?” Normally, this would be the time he’d muse about how much progress they’d made for them to feel so at ease around Sephiroth to tease him.

But Cloud couldn’t focus on that with his face looking like a ripe tomato as he watched Sephiroth look at the drawing again. His eyes flickered across it, speaking nothing of his thoughts. “Ah…I see.” Was all he said before dipping his head low enough for his bangs to hide his face. Cloud had to stop himself from dropping his jaw because no way was Sephiroth—

“…Do they really look like that..?” He asked, raising his head and patting his hair with a frown. That was the exact moment when Tifa promptly lost it. She doubled over laughing as Marlene shouted gleefully, “Yeah, they’re like those things that bugs have!”

He needed to stop her before Tifa ruptured a gut.

Denzel too, with the way he was slumped over the table trembling. Sephiroth looked insulted as he frowned at her. “A bug—“ Cloud frantically stood up before he could say anything else to fan the flames.

“H-hey, why don’t we eat? Like—right now. Please?” Okay, maybe he didn’t sound as confident as he wanted to. He was still, unfortunately, reeling from the knowledge that Marlene drew him and Sephiroth holding hands to focus.

It took several agonizing minutes, but he managed to get everyone to sit down and shut up. Tifa and Denzel were still smiling as they dug into their food while Marlene and Sephiroth were staring at each other with her smiling—dare he say smugly—at his narrowed gaze. Cloud, in the middle of it all, was just trying to clear the blush that’d somehow spread to his neck in the aftermath.

They were impossible. Every single one of them. Still, a smile formed on his face. These were the moments he lived for, that he’d die for. As long as they could all stay happy like that, Cloud would be satisfied. He ducked his head and started eating before anyone could notice that his blush was still very much present.

It wasn’t as quick as he’d hoped as a small voice whispered to him, “Thinking about the drawing still?” Cloud snapped his head up with a horrified look. Denzel looked at him with a grin and started making kissing noises. “Denzel!” He yelled. Laughter filled the room once more as even Sephiroth cracked a smile at them.

Dinner quickly devolved from a nice, calming affair to a battlefield filled with teasing, giggling, and far too many jokes made at his expense. Seriously, he couldn’t be that fun to bully, right?

Right?

Either way, by the time they were all done and ready to go to sleep Cloud was drained all over again. He dragged his feet up the stairs with Sephiroth a step behind him radiating amusement. “Think you can carry me again?” He heard a chuckle behind him as they got to the top.

“Why, Cloud, there’s only a few more steps to the room,” he mused. Cloud grumbled and headed towards the door. “Thought you wanted to take care of me,” he muttered. Before he had the chance to think about what he said he was being lifted off the floor again.

Sephiroth spoke over his yell as he picked him up. “Well, if you insist.” He hissed out his name as he swung open the door with Cloud in his arms. He twisted his sleeve into his hand while he shot him a glare. “You better hope they didn’t see that.”

“And if they did?” He laughed, setting him down on the bed. Cloud rolled his eyes, making room for him without a word. Another thing that had changed overtime. Sephiroth settled into bed, wrapping his arms around his waist. He rested his head against his chest before frowning.

…They found out a while ago that Sephiroth still had his wing. Turns out, he was just too weak to let it out when he found him. But…he almost never brought it out. Ever. Hell, he only told them he could after accidentally finding out when he was alone in the bedroom. It'd surely be more comfortable if he did, but all it did to Cloud was make him see fire and taste ash. So, he held it back to only let it out on good days now.

Cloud rarely has days good enough for that, but for tonight, he was willing to cross one last line.

His arm was slow and cautious as it slipped under his shirt and stroked the skin where it should’ve appeared. His back tensed as if waiting for something. A million different ways to hurt him passed through his mind, but Cloud was past the need for that. They had enough for a lifetime. No, he wanted to heal for a change. When nothing happened, slowly he felt Sephiroth press against the caress. A question for reassurance.

Cloud continued to stroke his back, letting the action speak his permission. Sephiroth shifted, pressing firmer against his hand. He gave one last run against his skin before moving lower to make room. Arms tightened around his waist and Cloud watched the room erupt in black feathers.

It’s as large as he remembered, flapping once then wrapping around him. He's fit so snugly that he nearly drifted off then and there. Cloud didn’t bother hiding his satisfied sigh as he buried himself deeper into his embrace. Sephiroth in turn rested his head against his. He wasn’t sure he ever felt more comfortable and Cloud was fully ready to close his eyes to drift off.

But a familiar tension tightens his chest, and the moment dies before he had a chance to. His breathing started to pick up as the once snug feeling was wiped away by something more tight and constricting.

Possessive.

His eyes widened and he struggled under his hold. Almost immediately Sephiroth pulled away, about to get off the bed completely. He knew how this would go. They would freak out, Sephiroth would move to the guest room, they wouldn’t sleep, and then they’d greet each other like nothing ever happened in the morning.

Cloud grit his teeth through flashes of fire, the taste of dirt stuck between his teeth, and the scent of smoke that burned his eyes. He didn’t let himself think as he grabbed onto the wing blindly before it can lift itself from him completely. Cloud felt him jerk back but can’t apologize because he knows they’re sensitive but he can’t control himself right now—

“Please,” he said.

Because Cloud knows Sephiroth and if he doesn’t stop him he’d never let his wing out again. Not only that, but damn it, he wants. He wants more of these nights. Wants more of him having fun with everyone else. Wants more of those soft, weary gazes sent his way. It’s less of a revelation and more of him admitting what he’s known all long.

Stay.

And he did.

While he didn’t wrap his wing around him again, Sephiroth simply let it drape over him, listening to the sounds of his labored breathing. It probably isn’t the right way to fix this, but it’s the only thing Cloud can think of that doesn’t involve the both of them shutting down.

So when he blinked and saw firesmokebloodbloodsomuchblooditburnsithurts— he focused on the softness of the wings instead of how they loomed over him like a harbinger of misfortune. Cloud raised a trembling hand to place it in the wing. It felt nothing like how he’d expected and he grounded himself with it. It shivered under him and he let out a weak laugh. Sephiroth’s wing. Shivering. He takes a deep breath that doesn’t fill his lungs with soot and closes his eyes.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there petting it, but he knew that by morning he’d sit right next to a twitchy, guilt-ridden Sephiroth again. He’d greet him and reassure him that it was fine. He was fine. Cloud hesitated, before tilting his head up and brushing his lips against his collarbone. I’m okay, don’t worry about me.

Sephiroth in turn relaxed against him. Cloud felt a soft pressure on the top of his head before he buried his face into his hair. Sleep began to claw at him and he didn’t resist it. He focused on breathing as everything faded away from him.

He’s getting better.

…

They’re getting better.