Chapter Text
Cloud’s heart isn’t broken.
To say his heart’s broken would be saying that something’s looking to be fixed. In actuality, there is nothing inside Cloud’s chest that constitutes being shattered.
Yes—there are some nights where he reaches across the bed in search of someone familiar and comes away colder than before. There’s a part of him that succinctly withdraws when he realizes Zack isn’t coming back until he says so, and yes, there is a period of idiotic, furious heartache where Cloud takes longer showers, hunched over on the tile, rotting in unresolved emotion as water scalds his shoulders.
But the anger is short-lived. Like past memories it packs its things and it, too, leaves him behind.
By the time love finds him once more, Cloud has long forgotten its face: it takes him a long time to notice it standing on his doorstep. Even longer for him to let it inside. One morning he looks out the window of his soul and sees the newborn flowers it has planted in the garden, in previously trampled soil that Cloud swore would never be worth anything again.
He does all of this on his own. It’s harder that way, he thinks, but it means more to him that way.
Bottom line: he doesn’t need Zack. He’s fine living without him.
But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss Zack.
Because if Cloud misses anybody, it’s him—misses the body heat, the laughter, the back-and-forth banter of someone who had grown warm and familiar and comfortable with tangling Cloud’s heart around his own like soft, pliable wire. Erasing Zack from himself would mean taking to his heart with cutters and trying, futilely, to snip away the parts of Zack that are so closely intertwined with his own without cutting into himself in the process.
Cloud has never once thought that either of them deserved something like that.
But half the summer passes.
And Cloud feels better, he thinks, between the first sunset and the last—at some point the sun stops threatening to burn, and the orange hues remind him of warmth rather than the tiny pills he swallows back each morning to try and stagger any memories still attached to Silas’ fading voice.
When Jessie calls him out of the blue to invite him to a bonfire, he says yes. And when the girls pull in to pick him up, he slips into Aerith’s Jeep in a black muscle tee and immediately takes a hit of the pen that’s offered back to him.
The bonfire isn’t overwrought with people, to Cloud’s relief. He grabs a can of something cold and plants himself in a cozy little corner with Tifa and Aerith, who spend most of the night catching him up to speed on everything he hasn’t already heard at Seventh Heaven.
He feels Zack before he sees him.
It starts as a warm twinge in the back of his head, an invisible string tugging subtly at something inside him. Cloud looks through the flames and sees Zack on the other side, talking to some girl—just a friend, Cloud can tell, ‘cause his hands are in his pockets when he’s not sucking at the stick of cannabis between his teeth.
That awful black eye has healed. His knuckles are pockmarked with white scars from the fight. His hair’s slightly longer, there’s a new spider tattoo on his forearm, and he looks older in a new, tired way.
Cloud drinks his beer. Aerith follows his gaze.
“Is something still going on between the two of you?”
He thinks of Zack’s mouth, warm and gentle as a tidal pool. Cloud licks gingerly at the inside of his bottom lip: his tongue traces the faint teeth-shaped scar that Zack accidentally left behind.
“Nope.”
Aerith hums skeptically. Her bracelets jangle as she lifts her wine glass to her mouth.
“Are you sure?” Tifa asks. “He hasn’t looked over here once.”
“So?”
“It’s Zack,” she emphasizes. “He hasn’t seen you in months.”
“Maybe he’s just having an off day. I don’t know.” Cloud watches the bonfire engulf a log. “He looks sorta tired.”
“He always looks like that. Doesn’t talk about it much, but I guess he got taken off the team, and—”
Cloud’s fingers tighten around his drink. “Not my problem.”
Tifa worries at her bottom lip as she studies him. “Right,” she says, quietly. “Sorry.”
“Back when you two talked…” Jessie begins from where she’s seated not too far away, “Did something happen?”
“Like what?” He eyes her. “Did Zack say something?”
“No. He hasn’t told anybody what happened that night.”
“Hold on.” Aerith narrows her eyes, then. “Did you two kiss?”
Something in Cloud’s brain short circuits. He tries to act normal, tries to say no, but the words can’t come. Instead he takes a long sip of beer.
“Oh my god,” Tifa exclaims.
“You guys kissed?”
“Cloud, holy sh*t—”
“Would you all cool it?” Cloud barks over them. The three fall silent immediately, giving him bitter looks as they sip their drinks. “Nobody kissed anybody. He came over, we fought, he left. Nothing happened. We haven’t spoken since.”
It’s the truth if you squint. Technically Cloud’s not lying if nobody asks him to confirm it—and as the girls watch Zack, they look suspicious but they let the topic die.
Cloud reaches up and rubs at the back of his neck.
He finishes his drink. He excuses himself to grab another.
The cooler out on the porch is empty, full of nothing but watery ice, so Cloud steals away into Aerith and Tifa’s apartment to grab one fresh from the fridge.
It’s cooler inside, thanks to the rattling fans set up in the windows. Cloud ducks down into the fridge, steals a spiked iced tea and pops the tab. The vents under the fridge rattle with age as he shuts the door.
“Hey.”
Cloud turns at Kunsel’s voice. He appraises the captain warmly. Something inexplicably forlorn twists at his chest as he says, softly, “Hi.”
“I didn’t know you were here too,” Kunsel says. He steps towards the fridge, but Cloud waves him off with a hand—he grabs Kunsel an iced tea, cracks it open and holds it out. Kunsel takes it with a soft smile. “How have you been?”
Cloud shrugs a shoulder. “Fine. How’s, uh…”
“Don’t talk to the others too much during the summer,” Kunsel confesses with a laugh. “Got lots of sh*t goin’ on. Roche’s abroad. Clive’s back at home ’til the fall. Word is he’s got a girl back there. Only ones ‘round are Reno, Tidus and… you know.”
Zack.
“Yeah.” Cloud sips at his iced tea. He leans back against the kitchen counter. “He been okay?”
“Think therapy’s helping.”
Something warms in Cloud’s chest at that. “Huh.”
“What about you though, man? That whole f*ckin’ night was a sh*tshow. Been wanting to reach out but… I don’t have your number, and asking for it from Zack felt… I don’t know.”
“I get it,” Cloud says, ‘cause he does. “I’m okay.”
Kunsel tilts his head. He gives Cloud a soft once-over. “Yeah?”
“Mm.”
“Think you got a little taller.”
“Probably from the T.”
They exchange grins.
Kunsel asks, kindly, “That been going okay too, then?”
Cloud nods. “Period stopped a month or so ago.”
“Dude, that f*cks!”
Cloud snorts into his drink. “I guess.”
Across the house, the screen door rattles as it swings shut. Cloud gazes down at the wooden floorboards, recently mopped clean but still vaguely discolored in places where Aerith couldn’t completely erase her plants’ soil stains.
The fans in the windows push the humid air around. Stray particles of soil skitter across the floor. The air smells like lemon and vinegar cleaner.
Zack steps gingerly into the kitchen. Cloud glances up.
He meets Cloud’s quiet gaze with something impossibly tender. They haven’t spoken in months, but somehow Cloud still knows exactly what it means—and as Zack redirects his attention to Kunsel, Cloud feels weirdly empty to know that Zack still loves him just as much as he did when Cloud left him.
Kunsel smirks. “They just let anybody in here, huh?”
Zack chuckles. A sort of delicate light floods his eyes as Kunsel steps forward to pull him into a hug. They talk quietly—Cloud could eavesdrop if he really wanted, but he can tell by Kunsel’s hushed, sympathetic tone that it’s a conversation meant just for the two of them.
Tseng’s name comes up once or twice. Cloud focuses on the clunky whirring of the window fans: he pretends to stare down at his shoes.
“Alright man,” Kunsel says, loud enough to capture Cloud’s attention once more. He glances up at the captain, who eyes Cloud inquisitively over Zack’s shoulder. Cloud nods once, like, it’s okay to leave me here with him, and Kunsel imperceptibly nods back like, you know where to find me if it’s not. “I’m gonna head back out. See you soon?”
“Yeah,” Zack says. “I’ll be right out.”
“Cool.” Kunsel makes a more obvious point to wave at Cloud, then. “See ya later.”
Cloud smiles at him. “Okay. Thanks, Kunsel.”
Kunsel leaves them.
Of course it’s awkward: Zack doesn’t immediately turn to greet Cloud like he might have, once upon a time, and while Cloud feels fine being alone with him, now, there’s months of distance between them.
And Cloud—he still loves Zack, of course he does, but he doesn’t feel responsible for him. So he waits for Zack to speak first. And like always Zack knows.
“Your voice is deeper.”
Cloud smirks. “Your hair’s gotten longer.”
“Keep meaning to cut it,” Zack replies lightly as he combs his fingers back through his black spikes. Cloud can tell he’s lying in favor of keeping the conversation going. Not that Cloud has anything wrong with that. “How you been?”
Cloud shrugs. “Fine. Working a lot. You?”
“Not a whole lot going on.”
Of course. Cloud feels kinda stupid after that one. The last time they spoke, Zack had just gotten himself kicked off the team—and he stopped showing up to Seventh Heaven not too long after that.
He told Tifa he just needed time. Cloud knows it’s ‘cause he told Zack he needed space.
“Oh,” Cloud mutters, lamely. “Right. How’s that going?”
Zack shrugs. It’s not exactly nonchalant—rather a placeholder for emotions that don’t belong in Aerith’s kitchen. “It’s going.” He tilts his head. “Do you wanna go somewhere to talk?”
Cloud sucks in a tense breath. He glances down at his phone. “Tifa’s waiting for me, so I probably should…”
Disappointment flashes in Zack’s eyes, but he’s quick to mask it. He nods. “It’s cool. I get it.”
And for some reason, in that exact moment, Cloud realizes they’ve really grown apart. He realizes that he could say goodbye, slip past Zack uninterrupted, and most likely never feel obligated to speak to him again.
Cloud’s found his own path. Zack’s in the process of discovering his. As it stands, their paths don’t cross at any point. They’ve almost completely reverted back to how they were before they became friends—separate, content in distant orbit but never to touch.
Zack doesn’t have a say. He’s made that explicitly clear. The choice is Cloud’s.
Cloud’s fingers tighten around his phone. The screen blinks to life and he stares down at his lockscreen—a picture, older now, of the night view outside their Golden Saucer hotel room.
He feels its weight encapsulate his senses. And he glances up into nothingness for a second, considering, before looking back to Zack.
“Listen,” he begins nervously. “Uh, I’m going out of town next week. To visit my mom. I was gonna go by myself but the drive kinda sucks when you’re alone, so…”
“So…?”
“You wanna come with?”
Zack blinks. “To Nibelheim?”
“Yeah.” Cloud rocks back and forth, uncertain, on his heels. “Figure we’ll have a lot of time to catch up in the car.”
Zack stares at him for a long while. He slowly runs a hand through his hair. Blows out a breath.
“I-It’s okay if not,” Cloud immediately backtracks. “Kinda boring out there. Not a whole lot going on.”
“No, I’d be honored, but…” Zack swallows. “Are you sure? You’d be cool with that?”
Cloud shrugs. “Why not.”
“And you’d be okay with me meeting your mom?”
Cloud quirks a brow. “Why, you gonna try banging mine too?”
Zack chokes on his own spit. “No! No. I— I mean, I—”
His face gets steadily redder as Cloud stares him down, and eventually Cloud can’t hold back a chuckle. “I’m just busting your balls. I’m cool with it. As friends, I mean.”
Zack coughs. He wipes the back of his mouth with his hand.
“Definitely,” he says, after he catches his breath. “Of course.”
“Okay. Cool. I can text you the details. I’m leaving early Sunday morning. I’ll pick you up and we can—”
Zack instantly shakes his head. “I’ll drive.”
“Zack, I’m not mad anymore. You don’t have to—”
“Cloud, please.” Zack stares pleadingly into his face. “It’s the least I can do.”
Cloud tilts his head, unsure. But in the end, he nods.
“Okay. Appreciate it.”
Zack nods. “‘Course.”
Tidus stares at the unsightly potted plant outside Tseng’s office to keep himself from stepping inside.
He’s stalling—been stalling, now, for a hot f*ckin’ minute. Been ignoring the loads upon loads of text messages Yuna’s been desperately sending, too.
Get a grip, Ti.
He takes a breath, smacks his palms encouragingly against his cheeks for good measure, and then pokes his head into the open door of Tseng’s office.
“Coach?”
Tseng’s sitting straight-backed and serious at his desk, staring down at his laptop.
Tidus wishes he knew what was on the screen. He’s always suspected that Tseng is secretly, like, big into Solitaire.
Maybe he’s a Sudoka guy. Sudoka? Sudoko? What was it?
“Yes,” Tseng says, without looking up.
“Can I talk to you real quick?”
Tseng eyes him. He nods. To stop himself from turning back, Tidus strictly keeps his eyes on the space between Tseng’s eyebrows.
“What’s going on?” Tseng asks him.
Tidus gulps. He sucks in tightly through his teeth.
“I’m the one who set Zack up against Silas,” he confesses.
There’s a pause. Tseng slowly lowers his laptop screen. He leans back in his seat.
“W-We were having issues ever since I first moved here,” Tidus goes on, nervously. “I… I lied about a lot of stuff to get Zack mad at him, and it got out of control. What I’m sayin’ is… you shouldn’t… you shouldn’t blame Zack for what, what happened.”
Tseng stares at him. “Really.”
“Yes sir.”
There is an even longer pause. Then: “I hope you realize a confession like this would get you immediately expelled from the team.”
Tidus’ spine is so rigid, it hurts. “Yeah.”
“And lying about this kind of thing might get you into even worse trouble.”
“I understand.”
“Really,” Tseng repeats, even more suspiciously than before. “Because about twenty minutes ago Reno came into my office and confessed that he was the one who pitted Zack and Silas against each other.”
Tidus ever so slowly looks over to his right, where a couple of chairs are set back against the wall. Reno’s sitting with his legs draped over the side of his chair, a lollipop clamped between his teeth.
He pulls it free with a pop and salutes shamelessly in Tidus’ direction.
“I believe Reno would be more likely to do such a thing,” Tseng continues flatly. “And he read his confession off of flashcards.” He rubs at his temples. “Sit down, Tidus.”
Tidus does.
Tseng closes his laptop fully. He takes a long look at the two of them—Tidus with his wide, deer-in-the-headlights gaze, and Reno, who stares unapologetically into Tseng’s face and works his lollipop in and out of his mouth.
“What happened with Zack was unfortunate. He was one of our best players, but even more than that, he was a valued member of our team. And—”
There’s a quiet knock. All three of them look over to see Kunsel, looking very solemn and apologetic as he stands in the doorway. Before he can open his mouth, though, he freezes at the sight of Tidus and Reno.
“You gotta be sh*ttin’ me,” Kunsel groans.
The three of them descend into nasty bickering. Tseng rubs his hand over his face.
“Men,” he shouts. “Men.”
They stop. They look at Tseng.
“Coach,” Kunsel says, after a moment.
“Yes, captain.”
“I came to tell you that if you kick Zack off the team for real, I’m stepping down.”
Both Tidus and Reno point towards their captain in wordless, avid agreement.
“Kunsel,” Tseng sighs. “You know I can’t—”
“And it’s not just that,” Kunsel continues sternly. He slides his backpack off his shoulder and pulls a notebook from its depths. “I got signatures from the rest of the team stating the same. You’ll lose everyone if Silas stays and Zack goes.”
He passes the book over to Tseng. Tseng gives it a good, honest once-over.
“And this is everyone?”
“Yes sir. All but Isaac and Max.”
Tseng eyes him. “Those two were close with Silas.”
Kunsel nods, affirming.
“Dude,” Reno cuts in, and all heads turn towards him. “What Silas did was f*cked up. You heard how he was antagonizing Zack on the ice. He wanted Zack to lose it.”
“I know.” Tseng regards him with as much sympathy as he can muster. “I received a report from Cloud Strife, too, and he went into more detail of his situation in favor of keeping Zack on the team.”
The three players whip their heads around to look at him, eyes boggled comically wide. Tseng blinks once, quietly, and jokingly puts his hands into the air like he’s being held at gunpoint.
“When?” Tidus demands.
“About a month or so ago. Very impressively done, too. MLA format. Why the hell are you all staring at me like that.”
They look at each other.
“Do you think Zack knows?” Reno asks.
“No way.” Tidus shakes his head. “Zack woulda mentioned it already.”
Kunsel looks over at Tseng, who is clearly waiting for some form of context. “Cloud and Zack haven’t spoken in months,” he explains.
Tseng taps his pen against his desk.
“I don’t tolerate any kind of violent behavior between my players,” Tseng tells him sternly. “Silas was no exception. But in Zack’s case, he broke several rules and physically harmed his teammate. If Silas hadn’t been so willing to avoid litigation it would have ended a lot worse.”
“He avoided it ‘cause he knew he’d end up in f*cking prison,” Kunsel mutters bitterly.
“Oh my god. Yeah.” Tidus’ eyes go wide. “No lawyer could ever match Mr. Fair’s freak.”
“I second all this,” Reno chimes in. “And Tseng, with all due respect, kicking Zack for this sh*t is like, mad wack.”
Tseng lifts a hand in a silent plea for them to shut the f*ck up. They do. “I understand how much Zack means to you all—”
“And Cloud,” Tidus says.
Kunsel and Reno both nod wholeheartedly to this.
“And Cloud,” Tseng echoes softly. “With all this being said, I’ve been in serious talks with the board to discuss the possible repercussions of an article being released detailing the information that Cloud provided me with.”
Kunsel’s eyes go wide. “You’re… blackmailing Midgar College?”
“Not blackmailing,” Tseng quickly clarifies. “It’s called an ultimatum. I highly doubt an alumni rape case would bode well for incoming student application rates.”
They stare at him. Tseng meets their gaze with a visible pinch of fondness—blink and miss it.
“Let me worry about Zack,” he says. “You three focus on your summer. I’m doing everything I can. Now…” He clears his throat. “Kunsel. Shut my door.”
Kunsel regards him weirdly. He turns and shuts the door.
Tseng asks, normally, “You said Cloud and Zack aren’t speaking?”
The three rapidly start talking over each other—
“Hold it,” Tseng shouts. “Hold it. One at a time.”
Reno gasps out: “They haven’t been, no—”
“—but recently they talked at a party,” Kunsel finishes eagerly.
Tseng regards this calmly. Tidus can tell that, after being holed up in this office for half the summer, he’s starving for entertainment. “And it went well?”
“Nobody knows,” Tidus replies. “Zack texted me this morning, though, and they’re going on a trip right now. To visit Cloud’s mom in Nibelheim.”
“You think it’ll help?” Tseng asks, maybe slightly hopefully.
Kunsel inhales. “We hope so.”
They don’t do a whole lot of talking.
Rolling greens, familiar farmlands and an insatiably oceanic sky—the longer the drive drags on in shared silence, the more Cloud starts to worry.
He wonders if bringing Zack along was a bad idea. If he’s trying to save something that can’t be saved.
It doesn’t stop him from stealing glances at Zack. Zack’s pensive as he drives, arm hooked out the window, wind teasing his long dark hair. His aviators hide his eyes. Still the same in lots of ways, but the aftershocks of the past have clearly had their way with him.
Cloud can see a crossed scar on his jawline that definitely wasn’t there before. A hook of silver pierced through his daith. White scars cross over his tan forearms, but he’s still wearing the same thick watch. His familiar cologne’s a huge comfort. Cloud thinks he recognizes the black button-down that he’s wearing.
Alternative rock pulses moodily through Zack’s stereo. Zack hums along. He taps his fingers on the outside of the car.
Cloud looks out the window. He rests his cheek against his fist, stares at the familiar lilac mountains. His white-blonde hair ruffles up in the wind.
They pass into the little towns neighboring Nibelheim. All sights that Cloud knows like the back of his hand, even though he hasn’t been back here in years. He gazes out at everything that hasn’t changed.
The run-down gas stations. The sloping hills. The pocket-sized liquor stores and pizza joints. They drive ‘round the corner, over the red bridge and the burbling creeks and towards the welcoming, lush forests, and Zack exhales in breathy awe.
“Can we stop for a sec?” he asks.
Cloud turns his head, slightly, still cradled in his fist. He nods shortly.
They park in a rocky turnaround. Zack knocks open the car door and steps out.
Cloud stays put—he watches Zack stretch his long arms in the side mirror.
The air feels nicer than it did a few hours ago when they were still on the interstate. Cleaner. Smells like home. Cloud closes his eyes and lets the warm shadows of the trees overhead dapple the backs of his eyelids.
Five hour drive. Zack’s taken it like a champ. Might’ve been better on their bikes—but if this week goes well, there’s always next time.
If it doesn’t go well…
Cloud doesn’t even let himself think about it.
Zack stretches out his legs and climbs back into the car. It’s quiet again as they drive the last twenty minutes into Nibelheim.
“That’s Zan’s market,” Cloud tells him. He points to the familiar supermarket with the faded brown roof. “We can get beer from the place next door. My mom’ll probably head out to the farmer’s market for groceries and sh*t.”
The rest of the drive is like that: silence, and then little remarks from Cloud. They have good pizza. I’ve actually never been to that place. Can’t swim in that lake; it’s got leeches. The guy who owns that diner is good friends with my mom. Tifa and I broke our ankles at that playground when we were five.
Then they pull into his mom’s driveway. It’s more grass and rock than anything else: Zack has a visible anxiety attack as he tries to find a spot that isn’t just lawn.
Cloud looks over at his mom’s garden.
She’s planted a rainbow of vibrant flowers—they sway blissfully in the breeze. He can hear the old glass wind-chime tinkling through the lowered window, and suddenly it’s like he’s seven years old again, catching moths in the backyard and not noticing the bug bites and sunburns on his body.
The house is still the same. Should feel a lot smaller after living in Midgar, but it doesn’t—Cloud only feels a familiar ache as he gazes out over the log cabin.
A little cramped for two, too roomy for one.
He looks at the chipped wooden bench, the reserve of logs stacked up against the exterior wall. An axe lays abandoned by the aged tree stump Cloud used to climb on when he was a kid.
It looks like his mom’s put new flowers in the window boxes. She’s gotten colorful, puffy cushions for the chairs on the porch.
The old tire swing is still tied to the branches of the broad oak tree. Birds and chipmunks dart through the freshly-cut grass.
“What a dump,” Zack quips, a weird little crack in his voice.
Cloud snorts and rolls his eyes.
He gets out of the car. Zack takes a moment longer to absorb the scenery around them, but then he too slips free of his seatbelt. While he goes immediately to the trunk to start unpacking, Cloud heads to the front door.
He gets to the doorstep and a huge whirlwind of black and white fur comes barreling up to the rickety screen door. Cloud pulls it open before it gets knocked off its hinges.
“Mom,” Cloud calls out.
“In the kitchen!”
Cloud smiles. He looks down at the dog.
“Fenrir,” Cloud coos.
The husky’s tail thuds excitedly against the ground—he throws himself up onto Cloud’s chest, and practically looms over him. Cloud giggles as the husky laps his huge pink tongue over his face. Cloud holds his paws to keep him steady.
“Hi, buddy. Hi. You been a good boy? Did you mow that lawn?”
Fenrir must catch sight of Zack over Cloud’s shoulder, because something in his blue gaze sharpens. He barks, warningly, and Cloud doesn’t even have time to think about shutting the screen before Fenrir shoves past him and goes tearing out into the driveway, barking all the while.
Zack jolts—bags go flying. He stares, pale, as the mammoth-sized dog hauls towards him.
Claudia steps out of the kitchen in jeans and a black tee, wiping her hands with a cloth. She opens an arm; Cloud steps gratefully into it.
“Hi baby,” she murmurs into his hair. “You’re taller.”
“Maybe you shrunk.”
She whaps him on the back with the cloth. He grins.
“Your voice get deeper, too?”
He smirks. “Yeah.”
Zack yelps in the background.
“I like Fenrir’s new collar,” Cloud says.
“Old one was fraying.”
“Mm.”
They pull away and look, with mild curiosity, to where Fenrir has now tackled Zack to the ground and is bombarding him with wet kisses. Zack’s laughing at the top of his lungs as he scratches the dog between his ears.
“You might have competition,” Claudia says. “The dog loves him.”
Cloud eyes her. “Which dog are we talking about?”
She smirks and shakes her head, like, I don’t know where you get this behavior from, of which Cloud has a very concrete answer—you—but before he can blurt it out, Claudia nudges him in the side with her elbow.
“Well?” she prods. “Call him over.”
Cloud nods. He whistles. “Here, boy,” he says, hoping Fenrir will instantly listen. It’s been a while since they’ve seen each other, after all.
Both Zack and Fenrir look over at him.
“I meant Zack,” Claudia says, and then frowns, presumably at Zack’s dog-whistle behavior. “…Huh.”
Fenrir bounds back over to Cloud, who crouches to meet him on the porch.
Zack continues to lie there for a second, on his back in the dirt, bare legs spread and bent, denim straining at his thighs, and what do you mean these descriptions are weirdly erotic, that would imply that Cloud’s staring, which he is most certainly not—
“Zack!” Claudia calls warmly. “C’mere. Let me get a good look at that handsome face of yours.”
“Mom,” Cloud mumbles.
“What? Am I wrong?”
“Be gentle with him. He’s on mom probation.”
Claudia gives him a weird look. “What?”
Zack climbs to his feet and dusts himself off. He eagerly bounds over, nervously adjusting his wristwatch.
“Hi,” he says, shyly, as he meets Claudia at the door. “I’m Zack, and… and you already know that, don’t you. Hi. Uh,” he continues stupidly, as Cloud stares blankly at him, “you got some beautiful hydrangeas. You… you keep ‘em well pruned.”
Claudia’s grinning.
Zack stares, wide-eyed, at her. After a second he awkwardly sticks out his hand: she laughs and pulls him into a hug.
Over her shoulder, Zack glances down at Cloud for approval.
Cloud continues to silently glower at him like, I’m watching you and you’re on thin ice, mom f*cker.
Zack averts his eyes.
Claudia brings them inside. She gushes excitedly to Zack as she shows him around. Cloud lingers in the back, quietly scanning over all the parts of his childhood house that have yet to fade away here, like time has stopped.
There are his mom’s canvases. The clunky bookshelf, still falling apart and overstuffed with books Cloud has only ever glanced through to pass the time. The chipped wooden beams, the old gas stove and the fraying area rug by the fridge. Fenrir’s tennis balls and chew toys, which Claudia nudges aside with a distracted ankle as she talks to Zack: The shower starts cold, so you have to wait a minute before getting in. Sometimes you have to work the handle a little to get the temp exactly where you want it. Make sure you shower before midnight, because for some reason the water refuses to heat up after then.
Cloud goes to the kitchen and grabs himself a glass of water. The sink still squeaks when the faucet’s running. Fenrir comes, expectantly, to his side: Cloud grabs an ice cube from the freezer and tosses it down to him.
He watches Zack over the rim of his glass.
Somehow he looks taller than Cloud’s ever seen him before, a faint stranger wandering through the roots of his childhood. Claudia shows him the tiny bathroom and Zack pauses at the doorframe, brushes a fond thumb over the nicks in the wood that measure Cloud’s growth.
Fenrir’s tail thuds knowingly against the floor.
“Shut up,” Cloud murmurs.
The thudding only grows louder. Asshole.
“Well now,” says Claudia with a laugh. “I think I’ve talked your ear off enough. I should let you both unpack. You’ll be sleeping upstairs. Cloud can show you where.”
Zack glances over at Cloud, who pretends that he has been very busy with a magnet on the fridge.
They unpack the car. Zack insists on lugging the heavier bags up the little set of stairs leading up to Cloud’s childhood bedroom, and Cloud lets him, ‘cause… reparations for the ice fight, or whatever.
Cloud opens the door. Some warm air trapped inside the room rushes over them—he goes to the window and cranks it open. The cool breeze makes its way in immediately.
Behind him, Zack’s remarkably quiet as he gazes at Cloud’s old room.
It’s not much now: Cloud brought practically everything with him when he moved to Midgar. But there’s still a little dresser in the corner with some old clothes. Defunct Christmas lights are strewn over the curtains, and he’s still got the same yellow comforter and the twin mattress and a couple basketball trophies from grade school.
They don’t meet each other’s eye.
Cloud rubs at his elbow, uncertain. Zack wastes no time grabbing the extra sheets Claudia’s put out for them. He shakes them out and lays them out over the floor.
Cloud startles. “Zack, wait. You—”
“S’fine. I sleep on the floor all the time at Reno’s,” Zack says. “Can I steal a pillow?”
Cloud swallows. Guilt worms its way through the pit of his stomach. But he nods.
Zack grabs one of the flatter ones. Cloud immediately seizes it and swaps it for a puffier one.
Zack frowns. “You should have—”
“You’re already sleeping on the floor,” Cloud snaps. “Take the goddamn good pillow.”
Zack smiles at him. Cloud looks away.
“M’gonna head back down,” he says, quieter. “See if my mom needs help with dinner. Shower’s all yours.”
“But this is your house.”
“You drove.”
Zack shifts his weight, uncomfortably. “Okay.”
There’s a warm buzz in the back of Cloud’s throat.
Crickets sound noisily from out in the back lawn. His mom’s got the screen door propped open so that Fenrir can come and go as he pleases—Cloud sits inside, his warm cheek pressed against the table.
A bottle of beer lays empty near him. A box fan works hard to keep the cabin cool.
Claudia sits across from him, sipping at her own bottle. Her cheeks are more than a little pink.
Tipsy, the two of them watch Zack drunkenly pick at weeds in the lawn. Sometimes Fenrir brings him big sticks, and Zack throws them off for him to retrieve.
In the heat he’s abandoned his button-down, and his shoulders look broad and toned in an old brewery tank.
Cloud stares. His vision’s slightly blurry. In his head it’s worse, like he’s watching Zack through some sort of lovestruck filter. There’s stifled electricity between them—in his current state, Cloud can feel its obvious undercurrents.
“Something’s going on between you two,” Claudia notes softly.
“Mm.”
Claudia eyes him. She sips her beer. “You fighting?”
“Not really.”
Mosquitos circle the ceiling lamp. The moon hangs high. Cloud readjusts so that his cheek rests on his forearm. He watches Zack stumble around. Watches him coo deliriously to Fenrir as he scratches the big dog behind his ears.
“We’ll be okay,” Cloud says.
“Good,” Claudia replies. “‘Cause I think he likes you.”
Cloud smirks at that.
“Duh.”
Claudia scoffs. She pushes lightly at his shoulder.
On the second day, it rains.
They have bread and jam for breakfast. Turns out Cloud’s mom has been running low on groceries for a couple days now—was so damn excited to have company over, it all slipped her mind.
Not that it’s been a problem. Zack hasn’t had much of an appetite for months, let alone the past few days leading up to Nibelheim. Just the mere thought of being alone with Cloud for a week after months of nothing between them had him so nervous he couldn’t even really drink water without getting sick.
‘Cause there’s not nothing to the way Zack still feels about him. Christ, there were nights back when they weren’t talking that Zack had to lock his phone up in a tupperware container and huck it off into the pool, he wanted to call Cloud so damn bad.
He’s still in love with Cloud.
That’s something that’ll never go away, and he knows that. Spent months coming to terms with it. But now that Cloud’s here again… now that Zack knows how it feels to kiss him, how it feels to hold his face in his hands, how his teeth feel under his tongue…
And it’s even worse now. Because the months apart have treated Cloud good. He’s filled out in places Zack never even thought to look before—and the new, brisk depth to his voice has Zack feeling lightheaded, sometimes.
He’s going f*cking crazy.
So when Claudia tells them that she’s going down to the market—that is, leaving the two of themalonewith each other—Zack nearly has a heart attack.
He tries to talk himself down.
It’s nothing he can’t handle. If he survived sleeping on the floor of Cloud’s room, achingly lonely and listening to the sound of Cloud’s soft breathing all night long, he can survive an hour or two alone with him.
Not to mention they have a whole week left. Zack’s gotta get his sh*t together now, or he won’t live to see next week.
Still:
“Wait,” Zack says, as he watches Claudia grab an umbrella. “You shouldn’t… you shouldn’t have to carry groceries back on your own. I’ll come with. Let me grab my—”
Claudia waves her hand at him. “I’ve lived in the country a long time, honey.”
“But it’s raining.”
“Been there, done that. I won’t be grabbing much. Stay here and relax.”
Cloud sounds equally, if not more, desperate to somehow get her to stay. “Mom. Are you sure?”
Claudia nods. She smiles. “Hang out here. You had a long drive yesterday.”
“I did nothing,” Cloud says. “Zack did all the work.”
“Even more reason to stay behind. Make yourselves at home, alright? There’s iced tea in the fridge. Not much in the realm of entertainment,” she says, gesturing around at the lack of a TV, “but there’s playing cards in the cupboard if you get really bored.”
Zack and Cloud don’t look at each other. They can’t: their combined anxiety is so high, it’s practically filling the damn room.
They watch, in muted, conjoined horror, as she leaves.
The screen door sighs shut behind her. There’s the low rumble of her Jeep’s engine coming to life, the scratch of tires on rock, and then all is quiet except for the rain battering the wooden rooftop.
The house immediately feels huge and drafty without Claudia’s presence to keep the two of them tethered.
Zack hears Cloud suck in a cramped breath.
It’s silent. Cloud stands there a moment, staring off into space and nervously gnawing on his bottom lip, and then he turns and heads upstairs.
Zack doesn’t follow.
Instead he finds a spot on the cold hardwood floor and makes himself at home there. He listens to Cloud take the creaking wooden stairs two at a time. When the receding footsteps fade, Zack lies back, closes his eyes, and listens to the soft rain murmur through the open window.
He’s not sure how much time goes by. Twenty minutes, five, maybe a whole hour. Zack knows it’s peaceful. That he likes the quiet, unfamiliar sounds of the forest way more than he’s ever liked the city.
And then he hears Cloud’s footsteps return.
Slow, unsure, socked on the hardwood. Zack doesn’t dare open his eyes.
“Can I join you?”
Zack nods.
There’s a shuffle as Cloud finds a place beside him. He lies down so that their legs are facing in opposite directions, their heads just a small ways from each other in the middle.
Neither of them say a thing.
A breeze comes in through the window. It gives Zack goosebumps down his arms. The rain trickles lightly on the trees outside, and the world is all green and grey-white. There’s a chill to the air but the space feels safe.
The leaves tremble. Cicadas and birds call out to each other.
“I’m gonna say something,” Cloud says, finally.
Zack stares up at the ceiling. “Okay.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to hear what you have to say. I need to tell you how I feel and I need you to take it and then I need you to do the same. Give it right back to me. No bad ties, no commitments.”
Zack says nothing, but he nods. He understands.
Cloud swallows, audibly, and then whispers, “It really, really hurt when you did all that behind my back.”
Zack makes fists at his shirt. A monsoon of apologies and messages left unsent pile up, nonsensical and frantic, on the tip of his tongue.
I knew it hurt you. I’m sorry. I knew you had to relive everything to an extent and I thought about it, when we weren’t talking—how your head must’ve been so mixed up, how it must’ve felt to watch me hurt him like that.
No bad ties. No commitments.
Zack opens his mouth, and he says, “I hated how fine you were with just letting him go.”
Cloud exhales weakly. “I wanted to kill you when I found out what you did.”
“I couldn’t understand why you were so mad at me when you’d already watched me break his fingers.”
“I was disappointed you didn’t break more of him,” Cloud rasps.
“I was so pissed that you thought I didn’t care about you.”
“I hated that you didn’t call me.”
“I hated that you wanted space.”
“I was scared you were gonna forget about me.”
Zack turns his cheek into the floor and looks at him. “Why would you ever think that?”
“Because you’re so f*cking…” Cloud grips at the air for lack of a better word. “You’re… everything. And I’m just… not.”
Zack stares. “Cloud.”
Cloud sighs. He turns and meets Zack’s gaze. There’s nothing but inches between them.
“I’m nothing,” Zack begins, “if I don’t have you.”
“Bullsh*t,” Cloud whispers.
“Think about it, Spike. Did you think I was everything when you first met me?”
Cloud worries his bottom lip between his teeth. It’s with a tight exhale that he shakes his head.
“And that’s the difference,” Zack says. “I didn’t have you yet.”
“So what?”
“You gave me a reason to be everything.” Zack flushes, then, as Cloud’s pupils dilate at the words. “And… Cloud, you’re my whole f*cking world. I wouldn’t have fought Silas if you weren’t. You think I’d just do something like that for no good reason?”
“Probably.”
“Think again. I don’t handle my anger all that well, but it’s never been like that.It took, like, four whole therapy sessions for me to even start talking about it.”
“But you did? Talk about it, I mean?”
“Yeah.” Zack frowns. “I talk about a lot of sh*t.”
“Like what?”
“Parents, mostly. Sometimes I talk about you. Nothing but good things, of course.”
Cloud’s face reddens. He quickly looks away, choosing instead to stare shyly back up at the ceiling. He watches the shadow of a tree bounce off the wood. “Sometimes I get jealous of Tidus.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No commitments,” Cloud hisses, mortified.
Zack bites back a smile. He stares, softly, at the curve of Cloud’s mouth. “Okay,” he says. “Sometimes when I was having sex with Emma, I’d imagine she was you.”
Cloud groans a little: he pinches his eyes shut. “I was secretly really happy when you pulled me away from Johnny at that party.”
“I hate it when you try to make me jealous.”
“You’re hot when you’re jealous,” Cloud whispers. “You’ve made me jealous so many times.”
“How?”
“f*cking Emma, Zack.”
Zack chuckles at that. He turns away. “Sorry.”
Cloud raps his fingertips against the floor. “I got so nervous the first time you stripped in front of me.”
“I’ve liked you since we went racing.”
Cloud eyes him. “Highwind?”
“You laughed,” Zack says. “Was the first time I ever heard you do it. Wanted you to be mine.”
Cloud squirms a little. “I wanted you to kiss me back at the hotel.”
“Gold Saucer?”
“Yeah.”
Zack confesses, “I wanted to kiss you the night you were touching all my tattoos.”
There’s a tiny smile to Cloud’s voice. “Why didn’t you?”
“I was scared.” Zack turns to him. “I was so scared I’d f*ck everything up. That I’d lose you. I knew at that point I’d gone too far with Silas—I didn’t wanna hurt you any more. Knew you were better off without me.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Why?”
Cloud looks at him. “‘Cause I wanna be yours.”
Zack watches him. The way Cloud’s lips part, slightly, as he feels Zack’s gaze grow heavier on him. Zack slowly gets up onto his forearms and Cloud’s eyes track him, expectant—his breath shudders as Zack inches closer, hovers over him.
“You wanna be mine?” Zack repeats, lowly.
Cloud’s pupils dilate.
He lies very still. From this angle, Cloud looks a little cold—and Zack bets he could warm him up quick.
His gaze drags down to Zack’s mouth.
“Mm,” he confirms, with the softest murmur. “Come on, puppy.”
Zack shivers. He leans in, just a little—just enough to fully sense Cloud lifting his head, his breath whispering over Zack’s mouth as he uncontrollably meets Zack halfway.
He groans when Zack kisses him.
It’s just like before: Cloud’s mouth hasn’t changed a bit since the last time Zack had it like this. But this time, Zack’s the one to claim him. This time, his heart doesn’t pound—and they have all the time in the world.
Zack takes him slow. And now that Cloud’s not blinded by anger, his dynamic’s a whole lot different.
He’s more impatient than Zack’s expecting. Takes it like a damn baby. Cloud’s mouth is soft and eager and obedient and he whimpers when Zack takes him by the jaw, his whole body squirming as Zack buries him against the floor.
Their mouths come apart with a wet pop.
Cloud looks pissed. Zack grins, goes for him again.
The corners of Cloud’s mouth are narrow, but Zack’s tongue fits in ‘em perfectly. He sucks lightly at Cloud’s bottom lip, digs his fingers into the baby hairs at Cloud’s nape.
Cloud whines. He’s usually so quiet, but not with Zack’s mouth swallowing every little noise. Not when his teeth tug at Cloud’s mouth, and not when Cloud reaches around, growling, to grab a handful of Zack’s hair.
“Cloud,” Zack gasps. His head’s spinning. He’s getting harder.
sh*t, and they’re only kissing. Zack’s never gotten excited like this from just making out. He can’t think straight. Words don’t come—all of his rationality flings itself out the open window. Cloud’s frantic breathing makes it worse. His hands, cupping desperately around Zack’s jaw, tugging him closer, makes it… makes it…
Zack’s losing his f*cking mind.
“f*ck. Baby—”
At first, he thinks he imagines the crunching of tire on the driveway outside. But then he hears a car door slam. He hears the jangling of Claudia’s car keys.
Zack lifts his head, dizzily. A line of spit stretches between their parted mouths—when it finally pops, Zack feels it soak his chin.
“Y’mom,” Zack slurs. “Home.”
Cloud wipes, dumbly, at his own chin. “Huh?”
“Claudia.”
A pinprick of clarity slams into Cloud’s tone. “Oh. No.”
Keys in the door. Zack wrenches himself away from Cloud. Cloud lies on his back and struggles to catch his breath. There’s no hickeys—Zack triple checks him before rolling onto his side, shielding his hard-on from Claudia when she bursts through the door.
“Guess who got zucchinis!” she shouts.
Zack and Cloud sound back at her with grumbly, unenthusiastic groans.
“Oh what,” Claudia says, chipper as she dumps her bags of groceries on the counter. There’s more in the car—Zack can see ‘em in the backseat through the open doorway, and he really needs to offer to help, but he also really needs to take care of his tent, like, now. “The rain’s got you both sleepy, is that it?”
“Sorta,” Cloud offers.
“Well, don’t hold out on me. We got dinner to make, dishes to do… and Brian had homemade scones today. They’re strawberry. Zack, honey, do you like strawberry?”
“I love strawberry,” Zack says, with genuine enthusiasm. Get the f*ck out of here, he mouths at his raging boner.
“I’ll plate some up, then. You boys get up to anything while I was gone? Play any cards?”
Cloud rolls over. He pulls himself up with a grunt. “Mom, don’t… don’t put anything away. Zack and I got it.” He looks over at Zack. “The hell are you doing?”
Zack slowly, slowly looks at him. Cloud narrows his eyes, confused, until Claudia turns away and Zack very casually flashes his tented pants.
Cloud whips his head away, flushing brilliantly. He clambers to his feet, tripping over himself a little as he nervously meets his mom in the kitchen.
“Zack… Zack’s waking up,” he stutters out. “Don’t… I got this. You— oh my god, Mom. Step away from the refrigerator.”
“Zack,” Claudia calls brightly. “Want some iced tea with honey?”
Zack groans into the floor. “Yes please.”
They spend dinner unable to keep their eyes off each other.
Claudia tells them lots of stories. About Fenrir, mostly. It’s obvious she’s happy to have the company. Zack’s great with her—asking all the right questions, jumping in and rattling off stories of his own if they have any relevance—and Cloud laughs harder than he has in a long, long time.
More than once, Zack catches his eye. And Cloud flushes whenever it happens. He redirects his attention to his mom almost immediately, burning under Zack’s adoring gaze, but his eyes shine with it. Zack masks his smile behind his hand.
After dinner, Cloud takes him into town for ice cream.
They walk side by side. The moon hasn’t risen quite yet, but sunset spills over the mountains in dark blue hues. Their hands brush—they shyly take hold.
Cloud orders for them—strawberry for him, mint chocolate for Zack. He goes to hand the guy a handful of gil, but Zack bumps him aside with a hip and pays instead. Then he takes both of their cones and gets a good lick of each.
Cloud shouts in outrage. Zack grins. There’s pink ice cream smeared over the corner of his mouth.
“Asshole,” Cloud laughs.
“Sorry,” Zack says, and is so obviously not. “I’m a whor* for strawberry. Try mine.”
He holds out his cone. Cloud takes a lick.
“Oh, that’s good.”
“Rich,” Zack mumbles in agreement. He passes Cloud his ice cream. “Here. You can have this back. I’ve taken the tariff.”
“Thoughtful of you.”
“I do try sometimes.” Zack glances over at Cloud and laughs at the expression he sees. It makes Cloud grin, too, despite his best attempt not to. “Okay, baby, you should give me a tour. Show me the exquisite village of Nibelheim.”
Cloud rolls his eyes. He takes Zack by the hand.
There isn’t much to show. Nibelheim’s small, even by the standards of someone who lived here for more than half their life. But still he does his best to walk Zack through everything he knows—Zangan’s farm market, old berry picking paths, the centuries-old trees that stand taller and sturdier than Cloud remembers. He brings Zack through all the memories, all the lingering ghosts of his distant childhood.
“Nibelheim has the best berries in the summer,” Cloud tells him. “Nothing like Midgar’s sh*t.”
Zack eyes him. “For real?”
“Yeah. I can show you, if you want.”
Zack beams. If Cloud looks closely enough, he can see the omnipresent, heart-shaped glow fluttering around Zack’s head as he gazes down at Cloud, so Cloud quickly looks away, face burning.
They finish their ice cream and Cloud takes Zack to one of his secret spots.
Not that it’s really a secret—Tifa and him used to sneak over here all the time when they were kids, and Cloud still has a tiny hook-shaped scar on the inside of his ankle from when he’d cut it up trying to slip under the chainlink.
Cloud finds the broken part of the chainlink fence and pulls it up. Zack crawls through first, and Cloud’s quick to follow. When it falls back closed behind them, it’s as if they were never there at all.
They take the winding dirt path into the strawberry patch. Zack gasps when he first sees ‘em, red and fat and dewy on their stems, and Cloud laughs. They duck down into the underbrush, and as the moon starts up low over the horizon, they talk and eat strawberries ’til their fingers and mouths are stained red.
“I think I’d like to live in the country one day,” Zack says.
Cloud glances up at him from where he’s laying on his elbows in the grass. “Yeah?”
Zack nods. He pops another berry into his mouth. “I like it here. It’s peaceful.”
“There’s never anything to do, though.”
“I mean, we could always travel to the city.”
Cloud quirks a brow. “‘We’?”
Zack smirks. He moves in close—Cloud’s heart skips at the closing proximity. He tilts his head back to give Zack better access, and Zack indulges, skimming his fingertips under Cloud’s jaw.
Cloud’s mouth falls open for him. Zack’s breath trembles.
Zack tastes like strawberries and summer. His arms lay to rest on either side of Cloud’s head, and Cloud keens into the warmth of him, so Zack flips him over and climbs on top.
They make out for a long f*cking time. Long enough where Cloud gets stupid with it, cradled to safety here in the earth, with nothing but the distant train and Zack’s low breathing in his ears.
He combs his fingers through Zack’s hair. Traces over all of his piercings, the goosebumps that erupt over Zack’s bare shoulders as Cloud touches him.
“You taste good,” Zack whispers.
Cloud giggles into their kiss. “You just like strawberries.”
Zack laughs. His head falls forward onto Cloud’s shoulder with the suddenness of it—Cloud skims the blunt of his nails over Zack’s shoulder-blades. Their cheeks brush as Zack nuzzles up against him.
He murmurs, “Don’t think that’s it.”
“No?”
“Mm.” Zack’s lips ghost across Cloud’s neck. “No.”
Cloud shivers.
When they get back to Claudia’s, the world is pitch black. Following the golden glow of the porch light, they walk slow, hands intertwined and swinging between them.
Zack’s learning that he adores Cloud’s hands: they’re soft, maybe a little cold where his own fingers haven’t already warmed him. The tips of their interlocked fingers are sticky with strawberry juice.
Claudia’s stationed out on the porch reading a book. Fenrir lays tiredly at her feet.
Of course, when the dog senses the boys coming, he lifts his head.
Zack locks eyes with him. No, he mouths.
Fenrir’s tail thuds, once, against the porch steps.
“Traitor,” Zack mutters.
Cloud laughs. The sound of it stirs Claudia, who glances up at them and smiles. She takes a sip of the wine tumbler perched beside her. “How was the ice cream?”
“Oh my god,” Zack answers brightly. He kisses the fingers of his free hand and sends it off into the air. “Chef’s kiss.”
As they reach the porch, Fenrir gives Zack a long, imploring look. He slowly starts to roll over onto his back and of course Zack squats down, immediately, to scratch the dog’s belly. Fenrir’s tail strikes the porch in a never-ending barrage of appreciation.
“Why don’t you two go wash up and then meet me back out here? We can play some cards.”
Wash up?
They both look over at her, slightly confused. Zack knows he didn’t leave any hickeys on Cloud—they checked each other double-time before they left the strawberry patch.
But then Claudia gestures to her own mouth. They finally look at each other in the dim light of the porch.
Zack clocks the strawberry juice smeared all down Cloud’s chin; the sparse, thin twigs caught in his nest of white-blonde hair—judging by the way Cloud starts laughing, it’s obvious Zack is in a similar state, if not worse. He giggles and runs a thumb over the stray berry juice peppered along his jaw.
Of course, they don’t immediately make it to the bathroom.
But to be fair it’s Cloud who starts it this time—there’s a giggly mumble, a hand on curved muscle, and then Zack’s sighing as Cloud nudges him against the little dresser in the cramped bedroom.
A blunt corner of the dresser digs into his back. He can’t find it in him to care.
Cloud’s hand glide up and around Zack’s waist, fingers testing the nonexistent give of muscle under his clothes. When Zack kisses him, Cloud digs his nails into the soft cotton of his shirt.
“f*ck,” Zack breathes. His hands move from Cloud’s shoulders to his waist. Pulls him closer. When that doesn’t satisfy him—when they still aren’t close enough for Zack to not be selfish about it—he wraps his arms around Cloud’s hips and hoists him up.
He doesn’t so much as throw Cloud down onto the bed as he does set him down atop it, maybe slightly haphazardly, as Cloud’s legs slip from his reach and spread open, graciously, so that Zack can crawl over on top of him.
The mattress creaks beneath them. Zack’s hands make fists in Cloud’s hair. His grip tightens as their mouths routinely slot together and pull apart. As Cloud’s breathing grows heavier, frenetic, weaker.
Shaky hands travel down to grab Zack’s shirt by the hem.
Zack helps Cloud pull his shirt off. It doesn’t come off easy, not with their bodies so entangled, but Cloud’s curious fingers exploring every baring sliver of Zack’s chest is a good f*cking motivator.
He’s expecting Cloud’s fingers to be frozen, per usual, but they hold such a benign, lovely warmth. A thumb grazes Zack’s nipple, and he shivers, groans when Cloud’s touch migrates to the tattoos all down his arms.
Arousal snakes its way down Zack’s spine in a slow, deliberate surge. His dick jumps to attention, straining mildly against the tent of his pants. It takes every taut nerve in Zack’s body to keep from grinding down against Cloud’s thigh.
Cloud’s hands curl over the corded muscle of Zack’s arms. He squeezes, but nothing gives.
Zack’s mouth goes dry. He pulls back—his lips thrum with the taste of Cloud’s spit.
He says, dizzily, “Can I…”
“Yeah,” Cloud gasps out.
Zack tugs Cloud’s shirt over his head. He hooks it up and over Cloud’s arms and then tosses it, uncaring, into some corner of the room. As he traps Cloud back in against the mattress, he groans at the warmth of Cloud’s bare, scarred chest against his own.
Cloud’s fingers make slow circles against Zack’s shoulders.
“How far do you want this to go?” Zack whispers.
Cloud’s pupils are so, so f*cking dilated. He rasps, “This is good.”
Zack nods. He tilts his head downwards and plants kisses down the side of Cloud’s neck, wetly, sloppily, and Cloud squirms and moans above him.
“You cool with this?”
Cloud shakes. “K…Kissing is good.”
Testosterone has changed Cloud in ways that make Zack’s head spin. The blonde hair at his navel’s a bit thicker, soft still as it disappears beneath his waistband. His abs are more defined—muscles sturdy and strong under Zack’s wandering hands. He looks f*cking good.More like himself than Zack ever remembers.
“Yeah?” Zack asks, and as his mouth moves lower, Cloud’s legs twitch on either side of the bed. He hovers over Cloud’s collarbone. “Here too, baby?”
Cloud’s head falls back against the pillows. “Y-Yeah.”
“Mm?”
“Please.”
Zack grins. He sucks at the edge, throbs helplessly at the stifled sounds it pulls from Cloud’s throat. He kisses Cloud down ’til the tip of his tongue starts to smart under the pressure, and then he moves down further,suspended tentatively over the little brown peak of Cloud’s nipple.
Cloud’s breath catches.
Zack gazes up at him inquisitively. Cloud stares back, eyes glazed, cute face burning red.
“Yeah,” Cloud hitches. “Go ahead, puppy.”
Zack’s head spins, ‘cause he’s only ever dreamed about putting his mouth here before—only ever fantasized, in short, guilty spurts, about knowing what Cloud’s body would feel like writhing under his tongue, how Cloud would sound at Zack’s mercy.
Zack presses his tongue against Cloud’s nipple. Doesn’t use teeth, ‘cause he knows Cloud isn’t ready—instead he rolls tiny circles against the skin that hardens under him, his hands like claws in the sheets around them as Cloud moans his name.
“Zack please.”
“Scars too?”
Cloud nods. He shows Zack exactly where to go: reaching over and running his fingers over the raised, white skin of his scars, trembling helplessly as Zack follows with his mouth.
Zack sucks a hickey right beneath his right scar, because mine, and then he goes ahead and gives Cloud another on the opposite side.
Then he lifts his head. Cloud’s eyes track him hazily, adorably, his poor little body covered in bruises shaped exactly like Zack’s mouth.
Zack knows he absolutely doesn’t deserve to have this. He will never deserve this.
“Okay?” he asks.
“Mm.” Cloud licks over the corner of his mouth. “Thank you.”
Zack swears. He dips down to swallow Cloud’s mouth up in his own.
“We need to take showers,” he says, between breaths.
Cloud nods his agreement. “My mom’s waiting.”
They kiss more, just for the false promise of good measure, before Zack pulls away for real. He has the holy privilege of watching the way Cloud trembles as he finally sits up.
Does Zack want more? Of course he does. But that doesn’t change the nervous look in Cloud’s eyes, or the way that when he meets Zack’s loving gaze, there’s a shot of something guilty written all over his face.
Cloud frowns. “I’m—”
Zack shakes his head. He nudges Cloud’s bangs from his forehead and plants a kiss there.
“When you’re ready,” Zack says, softly, “I will be, too.”
“But it’s not fair to you.”
“What’s not fair is how you feel like you need to push aside any part of yourself to make me happy. That’s not how this works, sunshine.”
Cloud’s fingers dig into his palms. He rests his cheek on Zack’s shoulder. “Okay,” he whispers.
“This would be a terrible first time anyway,” Zack continues. He gives the creaky mattress a good pat. “This poor old thing.”
Cloud snorts. “It could take us.”
Zack raises an eyebrow. He pointedly rocks back and forth, giving Cloud a long, incredulous look at the creaking hellscape ASMR noises they get in return.
“Okay,” Cloud says. “Point taken.”
Zack laughs. “Thought so. Not to mention I don’t have any condoms on me.”
“Aw.” Cloud reaches up and lazily pinches Zack’s cheek. “Didn’t bring any with you, huh? You do have a brain sometimes.”
Zack rolls his eyes. He swats Cloud’s hand away.
“Shut up. Go shower.”
“You’re not coming too?”
“Not unless you wanna be looking at the situation I have going on in my pants.”
Cloud blushes. He pushes off the bed without looking back.
“Rummy,” Cloud says, boredly, as he sets down practically his entire hand of cards and promptly throws Zack’s winning hand straight in the gutter.
Zack puts his cards down. He flops down onto his back like he’s been shot. Fenrir gives him a wet, hot kiss on his cheek.
“How do you keep doing that,” he whines.
Claudia snorts. “M’glad he’s finally kicking someone else’s ass for once.”
Zack frowns up at the stars. “This game is supposed to be based on luck.”
“Not the way I play it,” Cloud remarks.
“His father used to beat me at this game all the time,” Claudia sighs.
Zack lifts his head to give her a curious look. “What was he like? Cloud’s dad?”
Claudia smiles at the memories that flicker through her head. She tilts her head and gazes down at her own hand of cards. “He had a heart of gold, but he drank like a damn sailor. Always had the biggest mouth.”
“So it runs in the family,” Zack mutters.
Cloud seizes his mom’s book and whaps him in the back of the head with it. Zack grins.
“He loved arguing when he was drunk,” Claudia continues, to both Zack and Cloud’s glee. She casts a glance over at Cloud. “Do you remember when he rented that old lawn mower from Zangan?”
Cloud shakes his head. “Don’t remember much about him at all.”
“You were probably too young,” she agrees. “But he used to let you ride with him on it all the time. Drove me insane—you were so tiny, and you had such a bad habit of taking off running, so I was always worried. But you loved it. Anyway, this one night, we were having a little house party. Invited all our friends over. He tips the damn thing over.”
Zack stares at her. “No way. Was Cloud in it?”
“No, no.” She laughs. “Just him. But it goes over, and he calls to me for help. Me.” She points to herself. “What the hell was I supposed to do? That damn man. Loved him so much.”
“I have faith in you,” Cloud says. “You could’ve, like, lifted it over your head and carried it around the yard.”
“Oh, yeah,” Claudia replies, playfully rolling her eyes. “Right.”
“I mean, look at Zack. He looks pretty weak, but he’s actually—”
Zack snatches the book out of Cloud’s hand and hits him with it. Cloud bursts out laughing.
Claudia chuckles. She shakes her head with a fond smile, then nods in Zack’s direction. “Wish he could’ve met you. He would adore you.”
Zack swallows thickly. His grip tightens a little around his hand of cards, and Cloud smiles, faintly. He reaches over to squeeze Zack’s knee: Zack tilts his leg closer into Cloud’s familiar touch.
He tilts his head back to meet Cloud’s attentive gaze.
Love you, he says with his eyes.
Something warm shifts over into Cloud’s face, like, I know.
Towards the end of their trip, Cloud thinks, maybe, he might be in love with Zack.
The moon glints off Zack’s stud earrings as he lies back against the pillows, one arm folded behind his head. Cloud’s more nervous than he should be.
There isn’t a whole lot of room on the twin mattress. Cloud’s laid out over Zack’s chest, groggy where their trapped body heat warms him—his fingers twitch lazily as Zack slots them between his own.
“We’re goin’ home tomorrow,” Zack murmurs.
Cloud hums. He listens to Zack’s heartbeat, thudding softly against his ear, before readjusting so that he can look up at him.
“You nervous?”
Zack shakes his head. “Not really. Been talking to the others, and we’re all on good terms.”
“The season’s gonna be starting up again soon.”
A tiny smirk appears on Zack’s face. He reaches over and tousles Cloud’s hair. “I’m okay,” he says. “I’d much rather hang out with you.”
Cloud frowns.
“Feel like it’s my fault you’re not on the team anymore.”
Zack hums his displeasure. He runs his fingers through Cloud’s hair—Cloud closes his eyes at the blissful feeling of Zack’s touch. “Cloud,” he begins. “I shouldn’t have done what I did.”
Cloud keeps his eyes closed. “But do you regret it?”
The silence is deafening.
“Thought not.”
Zack groans. “Cloud, I swear it’s okay. Really. It’ll be cool to watch the games from the other side for once. Won’t have to worry about getting any of my teeth knocked out of my head. Or, uh, making my concussion any worse. The doctors said I shouldn’t do too much sporty sh*t for a while.”
“For a while, or forever—”
Zack noisily clears his throat. Cloud rolls his eyes.
“You can’t just ignore your doctor’s orders—”
“Ahemhemhemhem—”
Cloud smacks Zack on the arm. “Whatever. Be an idiot, then. See if I care.”
“Thank you.”
“Shut up,” Cloud sighs. He pauses. “Y’know... it kinda sucks you won’t be out on the ice, actually. Could’ve cheered for you.”
“Yeah?” Zack asks, and Cloud cracks his eyes open at the suggestive tone of it. “You wanna?”
Cloud flushes. He glances away, curtly. “No.”
Zack laughs and leans in. Cloud meets him halfway.
“I can think of another way you could cheer me on,” Zack murmurs, low.
Cloud feels the implication of that one go straight between his legs. “Oh yeah?”
“Oh yeah.”
Cloud nearly bites Zack’s tongue when they kiss. He braces his hands against the hem of Zack’s shirt—a quick glance has Zack nodding, fervently, so Cloud slips his hands underneath.
He studies the feeling of Zack’s tense abs. The warmth of his bare chest. The soft rise of his nipples, soft and pink and perfect under Cloud’s fingers. His skin scaldsunder Cloud’s touch.
Zack wastes no time. He breaks away for a second to tug his shirt over his head, and the moment he’s free again, he wraps his arms around Cloud’s hips and pulls him in.
Cloud sets his hands over Zack’s broad shoulders. Seated in Zack’s lap, now, he throbs faintly at the feeling of Zack’s semi pressing up against him.
Still, underneath it all, a vein of anxiety whips through him. He tries to ignore it.
Because it’s just Zack. Zack.
Zack rubs his thumbs over Cloud’s waist in slow, slow circles. He shoots Cloud a questioning look, and Cloud thinks it over for a second—decides with full confidence he’s fine with it.
So he nods. Zack slowly pulls Cloud’s shirt off.
Cloud shivers in pleasure as Zack puts his hands on him. He loves the feeling of it—Zack’s hands are big and warm and safe, and as Zack starts kissing down his neck, Cloud moans uncontrollably.
It’s when Zack’s hips twitch that Cloud stiffens.
“Wait,” Cloud whispers, before he can overthink it.
Zack pulls back.
Cloud stares down at him.
His ears burn. His chest heaves. He’s f*cking soaked.
Zack watches him very, very attentively. A monstrous mixture of shame and confusion and frustration slam into Cloud’s senses like a f*cking train.
“I don’t know if I can…” Cloud trembles. “Uh.” He pauses to take a breath, and when he speaks again, it’s much firmer, despite his fluttering heartbeat. “I don’t want to go all the way.”
Zack nods. His eyes are exceptionally clear. “That’s okay, baby.”
“Yet,” Cloud adds, hastily. “Yet. I’m… I want to, sometime, but… not right now. I’m not ready.”
Zack smiles. “Okay,” he says, warmly. “It’s okay.”
“You sure?”
“Duh.” Zack reaches up and tucks a strand behind Cloud’s ear. Cloud leans into the touch. “You call the shots, sunshine.”
Cloud nods.
“I think… I think I’d be okay with something else, though.”
Zack rubs his thumb over Cloud’s temple. “Yeah? What’s that?”
Cloud reaches up and covers Zack’s hand with his own. He runs his fingertips over the backs of Zack’s scarred knuckles. “Can I touch you?”
Zack goes very still.
Cloud immediately eyes him.
“Zack,” he says, alarmed.
“I,” Zack answers, intelligently, and his mouth opens and closes a few times, like a fish out of water. Then: “Oh. ‘Kay. Yeah. Yeah, you can— okay. Are you sure? I mean, do you actually want to, or are you just sayin’ that ‘cause you think I’m—”
Cloud kisses him. Zack’s words die in his throat. He exhales, helplessly, as Cloud’s tongue skims over his teeth.
“I’m serious,” Cloud murmurs. “I want to touch you. But at my own pace.”
Zack throbs, hard and plainly f*cking obvious, against the soft confines of Cloud’s body. So Cloud pulls back. He keeps his eyes on Zack’s—then reaches back and presses his palm, experimentally, against the straining bulge underneath him.
Zack’s eyelids flutter. A broken moan escapes his throat. He tries and fails to swallow it down.
“That feel good?” Cloud asks.
“Ah,” Zack breathes.
Cloud smiles. “Can I, um…”
Zack’s about three steps ahead of him already. The two of them shift so that he can roll his sweatpants down, and as Cloud studies the clothed shape of his erection through his underwear, he feels himself swallow.
To start, he runs the blunt of his nails over it. Zack hisses at the contact.
“Okay?”
“Yeah,” Zack affirms shakily.
Cloud nods. He continues doing that for a while, gets used to the feel of it under his hands.
It’s different, he thinks, feeling the weight of it against his skin. Warmer than he thought it’d be. More receptive. Every little touch makes Zack twitch and grind his teeth.
“Cloud,” Zack pants. “Baby. I—”
Cloud glances at him. “Wanna take it out?”
“Oh god please.”
The desperation behind it makes Cloud shudder.
He watches Zack pull himself free. Zack’s big—Cloud knows, he’s seen it so many f*cking times before—but god, Cloud’s never seen it like this. Not when it’s this damn hard, begging to be touched.
Cloud’s so close he can see the scattered moles on Zack’s pelvic bone, the nicks where he cut himself shaving. He stares at the subtle shadows of hair around the base. The translucent pearl of precome that beads at the tip. The little vein running up the side—
“Hold on,” Zack rasps. He leans over quick and starts fishing through his open backpack on the floor. Cloud waits, a little confused, until Zack pushes a bottle of moisturizer into Cloud’s hands. “Here.”
Cloud stares at it. “Okay,” he says. “What’s this?”
“Moisturizer…?”
“And…” Cloud looks at him. “Why do you have it with you?”
Zack stares at him. He glances down at the bottle as if it’ll save him. Judging by the weight of it, it’s maybe half full. “I… have to keep my hands moisturized for hockey.”
Cloud blinks a few times. He glances at Zack’s big, slightly dry hands. Then back to him again. “You got kicked off the team months ago.”
“Old habits die hard I guess,” Zack prattles off, anxiously.
“Right.” Cloud licks his lips. “You shave recently, too?”
“What?”
Cloud makes a little noise like, hm. “I just think it’s funny that—”
“Okay,” Zack interrupts, loudly. His face burns. “We get it. I’m down bad. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Yes.”
“Great.” He rubs a flustered hand over his red face. “Love that. Can you touch me now?”
Cloud raises an eyebrow.
“Please?” Zack tacks on, hurriedly. “M’…m’really hard. Kinda hurts.”
“Aw,” Cloud murmurs. He squirts a bit of moisturizer into his palm and squirms, slightly, at the way Zack’s pupils eagerly dilate. “Poor thing. You’re so hard it hurts.”
“I… didn’t mean it like,” Zack begins, “that,” and whatever else he was gonna say quickly evacuates the room, ‘cause Cloud wraps a soft hand around him and he’s immediately f*cking gone.
All of the rationality in Cloud’s brain slides around like melting ice as he listens to Zack try to stifle his own moans. He pumps at Zack’s base. The moisturizer squelches noisily, spills out in white ropes between his fingers.
“Zack,” Cloud says softly. “Lie back for me.”
Zack does.
“Zack?”
“Mm?”
Cloud tips his head forward. The corner of his D20 hovers, innocently, over Zack’s leaking tip. When his mouth is close enough, he asks, “Can I try something else, too? Just to see what it’s like.”
Zack says something. Cloud isn’t sure what. He hears a few swears.
“Zack?”
Shakily, wordlessly, Zack reaches out and seizes himself by the thick base. He gives himself a good few pumps, eyes rolling back. Then he holds it in position.
Cloud goes down. He presses a timid kiss against the bubble of precome. His tongue immediately darts out to taste the sticky wetness against his mouth.
Zack’s next moan is low lowlow.
It’s salty. Sweet once it hits the back of Cloud’s throat. There’s just a hint of bitterness from the moisturizer, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. He sticks out his tongue and licks up the rest of it from Zack’s twitching co*ck.
“Cloud.”
Cloud hesitates. He tries to conjure up any sort of memory from p*rnos he’s watched a million times before in preparation for this moment exactly. Tries to remember exactly what they do with their mouths before they go down.
“Baby,” Zack pants. “It’s okay. You don’t have to—”
Cloud hollows out his cheeks and shoves Zack’s co*ck into his mouth.
Zack groans. His chest rises and falls roughly. He collapses back against the pillows, bends an arm back over his head, and watches Cloud try to take him all at once.
“There you go,” Zack says, hoarsely. “Look at you. My pretty boy.”
Cloud’s cl*t throbs. He tries to go down further, but he can’t. Tears spring to his eyes. Zack gives himself a few lazed pumps.
“Mm. Don’t force it, baby. I’m a little big for you.”
Cloud’s hands make claws in the sheets. His head spins as he pulls off. Once he catches his breath, he goes down again. Zack sighs appreciatively.
“Slow,” Zack instructs, gently. “Use lots of tongue.”
Cloud’s listening.
Yes, Zack. Anything for you, Zack.
He slides his tongue from the roof of his mouth and slips it free. His drool drenches Zack’s co*ck in generous amounts. Zack’s hips twitch, imperceptibly, as it pools near the base.
“Just like that,” Zack breathes. “You’re perfect. You feel f*cking amazing.”
Cloud swallows down another inch or so. He hums, shakily, as Zack wraps a hand in his hair. Big fingers dig into his roots.
“Lemme help,” Zack says.
Cloud nods. And he’s expecting it, really, but nothing could realistically prepare him for the way Zack starts guiding his head up and down.
Slowly, gentle as a goddamn lazy summer breeze.
He likes the feeling of Zack inside him, his co*ck full and expectant as it grinds against the back of his throat, but it’s the low, satisfied sounds that rumble from Zack’s throat that have Cloud closing his eyes and letting Zack take him.
Zack talks him through it. Cloud’s head goes fuzzy. He moans, nonsensically.
“Hmm?” Zack says. “You doing okay, baby? You like being useful?” A fresh rivulet of drool soaks him, and Cloud can hear a grin in his voice. “Yeah, you do. Good boy. Let me do all the hard stuff—all you gotta worry ‘bout is taking it. Okay?”
Cloud hums in garbled confirmation. His limbs are like jell-o: Zack’s low voice coasts through him like the sea, and it swallows him whole.
“You’re grinding on me a little, angel.”
Cloud groans. His eyelids flutter. He rocks his hips back and forth, and oh, yeah—he’s kinda wet. Really wet.
Zack. Zack. Zack.
Zack rubs a soothing thumb over his temple. “Can I help?”
Cloud nods.
“What do you want me to use?” Zack asks. “Fingers?”
Cloud pulls off. Zack’s hand stays tangled loosely in his hair, but not in any sort of way that traps him. “No,” he rasps, voice wrecked. “H-Hand.”
“Sure, baby.” Zack slowly pulls his hand from his co*ck. “You gonna be able to handle this on your own?”
Cloud nods. He lifts his thighs, shivers when Zack’s palm settles against him.
It’s weird through clothes, slightly restrictive, but Cloud rolls his hips anyway. He doesn’t even think to reply: just opens his mouth and falls back onto Zack’s flushed co*ck.
They moan in tandem. Cloud swallows down as far as he can. To his relief, it only takes a few stunned seconds for Zack to push him further.
He grinds down, hard, against the groove of Zack’s palm—his cl*t throbs.
He rubs his tongue against the underside of Zack’s tip. Precome trickles out and paints the roof of his mouth.
“Cloud,” Zack growls. “Your mouth is so perfect, baby. So tight and warm. Could keep my dick in here for a long time.”
Cloud pants around him. He goes down further. Drool from Zack’s base soaks his chin.
Zack coos and rubs his face around in it. Cloud clenches around nothing.
Then, without warning, Zack releases him. Cloud’s head rocks forward. He blinks groggily.
“M’close.”
Cloud doesn’t pull off.
“Baby,” Zack warns. “I’m really close, I—”
Cloud slides down further.
Almost there now.
He groans, raggedly, as Zack’s co*ck nudges into the back of his throat. Zack’s labored breaths quickly turn into tight hisses—his fingers twitch excitedly between Cloud’s thighs.
“Cloud,” Zack pants. “Cloud. Cloud. Stop, m’serious, m’gonna— m’gonna—”
Cloud pushes ’til he gags around it.
Zack gasps. He comes with a breathy swear, and Cloud groans as it fills his throat. He swallows what he can. It proves to be too much, though, after a minute.
He pulls off too soon—Zack growls, with dark satisfaction, as his co*ck slips free of Cloud’s mouth and paints it in hot, white strands.
“F-Fingers,” Cloud gasps out. “Now.”
Zack barely has time to move his hand before Cloud’s flipping himself over onto his back. He presses his fingers against Cloud’s aching cl*t, swollen and soaked through his boxers, and rubs them in quick, tight circles.
Cloud wraps a tired hand around Zack’s wrist, eager to feel the muscles strain. Zack works him fast. Come still dribbles from his weeping, now-abandoned co*ck, but he focuses very intently on where Cloud whines for him.
“Here, baby. Here,” Zack murmurs. “I got you. Can you come like this? Need me to do anything?”
“J-Just like this,” Cloud begs. “Zack, please, m’so— I wanna—”
“I know. I know.”
Cloud’s head buzzes. He closes his eyes and sinks into the dreamy, pliant white waiting for him, lets it consume him.
It starts like a yawn in the back of his head, and then he’s coming with a muffled gasp, his c*nt twitching and pulsing ‘round nothing as Zack rolls his fingers against him.
Zack laughs breathily. “There you are. My baby. Love you so bad.”
“Your baby,” Cloud echoes softly.
He rides his peak ’til there’s nowhere else to fall. His chest heaves, cheek pressed messily into the sheets, and after a second he’s dully aware of Zack wrapping his arms around him and pulling him back up to the surface.
Cloud turns and buries his face in Zack’s shoulder. Breathes him in.
“Zack,” he murmurs.
“Yeah?”
“Love you.”
It sounds like Zack’s smiling. “You too.”
Cloud thinks he dozes off. The last thing he remembers is Zack scratching his back.
The next morning, Zack’s squatting down in the middle of the bedroom floor, rifling through his and Cloud’s bags to make sure he’s got everything packed away. There’s a soft knock at the door.
He turns. Claudia’s standing there, a little smile on her face as she watches him.
“Got everything?” she asks.
Sunlight filters in through the thin curtains: their shadows dance along the floor.
Zack smiles at her from under the rim of his hat. “Think so.”
“You need help carrying anything out? I think Cloud’s just about done with Fenrir.”
“Nah,” Zack replies. He flexes lazily. “I got this.”
Claudia snorts. As he gets to his feet, she watches him.
“Thank you for looking out for him,” she says earnestly.
Zack blinks at her. He glances out the window. Cloud’s laughing down on the lawn, practically swallowed whole by one of Zack’s t-shirts, throwing a stick for Fenrir to retrieve.
Zack’s heart flutters. When he turns back to Claudia, he shrugs nonchalantly.
“He looks out for me, too.”
Claudia nods. “You’re good together. Don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy. He’s always been so tenacious—” Zack grabs their bags, tests their weight against his wrists, and then heads over to her, “—but I think you balance him out. I still remember how small he looked when he got on that motorbike of his and rode off to Midgar. Played it off well, but I could tell he was scared. He’s come a long way.”
Zack laughs. “That’s just Cloud. I didn’t do anything.”
Claudia’s smile is achingly tender, like a flower in the sun. She reaches out and cups his cheek.
It’s something that comes so, so unfamiliarly. Zack’s whole world grinds to a halt. He stares at her.
“You better come back,” Claudia whispers. “Maybe you and Cloud can stop up for Christmas. Nothing crazy—you don’t even have to stay the whole night, if you don’t want. But you’re family. You’re always welcome here.”
Zack’s throat goes dry.
She hugs him. He stands there for a short moment, uncertain, and then he drops the bags clutched in his hands. Slowly, he reaches around and wraps his arms around her. Something hot and wet forms pinpricks at the corners of his eyes.
You’re family.
He thinks of Cloud. The feeling of his heartbeat against Zack’s chest. I’m your family now.
Claudia murmurs, “Have a safe drive back, okay?”
“Mm,” Zack croaks.
A hand rubs soothing circles along his back—Zack rests his chin on the top of her head and sighs.
“Cloud filled me in on some stuff,” she says. “You’ve been lonely for a bit, haven’t you?”
“Maybe a little.” Zack’s voice breaks. “But I don’t feel that way anymore.”
“Good. You shouldn’t have to.”
There’s a light creak on the stairs. Then Cloud’s voice calls up to them: “Zack?”
“Up here,” Claudia calls. “We’ll be right down.”
They pull apart from each other. Claudia gives Zack’s shoulder one last squeeze for good measure before he grabs their bags and follows her down the stairs.
Cloud’s waiting at the bottom, blue eyes wide and fond. He catches Zack’s eye, flushes, and glances away. Zack grins like an idiot.
“You better come back and visit me,” Claudia scolds as she pulls Cloud into a tight hug.
Cloud buries his face in her shoulder. “I will.”
“Are you just saying that?” Claudia turns and winks at Zack. “Zack here will bring you back to me. Won’t you?”
Zack smiles at her. “‘Course.”
She opens an arm. Zack sets his bags down for the second time, laughing, as she pulls him into a group hug. Once they’re close enough, she mutters into Zack’s ear, you better be serious—to which he laughs, with this genuine, full happiness he never once in a million years thought he’d ever feel, and says, swear it.
They draw back. Cloud reaches for a bag—Zack smacks his hand away and grabs them both off the floor.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Cloud snaps. “You’ll drop them.”
“Shut up. I got it.” Zack waves, brightly, at Claudia. “Bye, Claudia.”
“Bye,” she says warmly. “Love you both.”
“Love you,” they reply in unison.
Zack follows Cloud out to the car. Cloud keeps a close eye on him as he carefully descends the porch steps, sticking close to his side ’til they reach the trunk.
Zack loads it up.
Cloud spaces out. He stares at the familiar front lawn—the tire swing, the swaying green grass, the chipmunks chittering as they duck between the trees. He doesn’t look away once, but a tiny smile graces his mouth when Zack takes his hand.
“We’ll be back,” Zack tells him.
“I know.”
Zack smiles. He watches Cloud a moment. Studies the way his dark lashes flutter in the warm rays of the sun, the way his hair fans over his forehead. Then he ducks down and very quickly kisses Cloud on the cheek.
Cloud splutters. He scrambles back, scandalized, and peers back towards the house.
“You can’t just do that,” he stammers. “M-My mom could be watching.”
Zack snorts. “I think she already knows we’re, like, y’know. Together.”
Cloud glances at him. He frowns. Flushes.
“Whatever,” he mutters, embarrassed. “Let’s go.”
“Cool.” Zack gazes lovingly down at him. He holds out his hand. “Give me the keys.”
Cloud tips his head up to meet his stare. He challenges, sweetly, “What keys?”
“Spike.”
“Shut up. You drove here.”
“So?”
“I’m not gonna make you drive back.”
Zack sighs.
He surges forward and, in one fluid motion, wraps himself around Cloud’s waist and blows a hot, wet raspberry into the side of his neck.
Cloud shrieks—he tries to wriggle away, but Zack grips him tight. After a long struggle, Cloud frantically fishes through his pocket, wrenches out the keys, and throws them over.
Zack grins. He spins them ‘round his finger and kisses Cloud, triumphantly, on the cheek. “Thank you.”
“f*ck off.”
The wind sighs gently around them. There’s the glassy tinkling of the wind-chime, the low rumble of a plane overhead.
Zack stares at Cloud in a lovestruck daze. The world turns, endless and immortal ‘round him, and yet all he can think about is how Cloud looks in the light of it. How this is where his life starts, where it ends—ageless here at Cloud’s side.
“Zack.”
“Yeah,” Zack says dreamily.
“Get in the car.”
Zack blinks. “sh*t. Sorry.”
