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Nowhere. Darkness in every direction.
“Hello?” a voice, his own, says aloud, only to be greeted by his own echo.
He can sense something, someone, maybe. He reaches for the Buster Sword on his back, except it’s not there. He exhales sharply through his nose and shakes his head before turning around. Nothing, still. But the desire to run is bubbling up within him on all sides, telling him to get the hell out. Just get the hell out.
He takes a step at random, in any direction to take him anywhere and also nowhere. He stumbles, falls, like he's forgotten how to walk, except there's no ground to catch him. He keeps falling. Then there's a tube in front of him, snaked on the ground. He drags himself along it a bit before he's able to push himself back onto his feet. Still wobbly, but not about to fall over, he makes his way further into the darkness, and then in front of him a—
Test tube? No, that can't be right. It's the size of a person. He presses his hands against the glass, but the green liquid keeps it murky. Too murky to see. His heart thumps in his chest, insistently. He knows what’s inside. He knows, but as the glass unfogs, and he can almost make out the features of the person inside, he jolts.
He inhales, sitting up. In his own bed. In his bedroom.
Deep breaths.
It’s just a dream. Similar to the ones he’s been having lately, and he doesn’t know what it means, but before he can even start to think about it, the sharper details begin to fade from his memory.
He turns to his nightstand to grab his water bottle, twisting off the cap before drinking it down in five large gulps. Then he settles back into bed and tries to fall back asleep.
#
“I've been having these weird dreams lately.”
Aerith tilts her head at him from across the coffee shop table, her nail-polished fingers loosely wrapped around the sleeve of a hot vanilla latte. He shrugs, as if to tell her to forget he even mentioned it, awkwardly swallowing down a large gulp of his flat white.
Instead, she asks, “What happens in your dreams?”
“I'm trying to escape something, I think. It's a little different every time, but that's the gist.”
Aerith hums thoughtfully. “Maybe it's just stress? Unless you think it's something more than that…”
Zack shakes his head. She's probably right. He's coming up on the second anniversary of his medical discharge from SOLDIER, and that always makes him antsy.
She knows him better than anyone after all. They had been friends during college, before he deployed with Shinra’s SOLDIER unit. After being introduced through a mutual friend, they dated very briefly before realizing friendship made more sense for them.
Tseng, the friend who had introduced them and Zack’s random roommate during freshman year of college, was no longer as close to them as he had been before his recent promotion to General Counsel of Shinra. He was also the personal confidant of Rufus Shinra, not that Zack ever got any details out of Tseng about that. He was tight-lipped. Something about attorney-client confidentiality, and no matter many times Zack pouted and gave his best puppy dog eyes impression, Tseng refused to crack. Truthfully, they hadn't been nearly as close since Cissnei—another mutual friend from college who had gone to law school at the same time as Tseng—moved a few days’ drive away a couple years back and traded in a fancy corporate law job to become a public defender. She seemed a lot happier, though Zack knew better than to bring up Tseng to her and vice versa.
Zack, for his part, since being medically discharged and eventually (mostly) healing from that injury, had started personal training on contract through a nearby membership gym. He'd tried temping at office jobs, but that had made him so bored he was very nearly diagnosed with clinical depression, only to find out he'd had undiagnosed ADHD his whole life. (Who knew? Though Aerith seemed entirely unsurprised when he'd told her.)
With his atypical work hours, he had plenty of time to help out Aerith, who ran her own greenhouse business that was growing by the year, particularly with the recent trend of everyone in their age bracket buying houseplants. She held classes on weekends, too, to teach people how to care for different kinds of plants and start their own flower gardens. It was at one of these events that she had met her current girlfriend, Tifa.
“Anyway,” Zack says, “what's this party you're dragging me to later?”
“At Tifa’s bar. It's a launch party for a new skincare brand, and it's huge for Seventh Heaven that it's being hosted there.”
Zack nods. “Sounds… fun?” He has no idea what that involves at all.
“Plus… Cloud will be there,” Aerith says, fiddling with her phone.
Zack doesn't know who Cloud is, but he frowns, “I don't know Aerith. Dating has been abysmal lately. I'm not really looking to be set up.”
She pushes her phone towards him and silences him with a look. Glancing down, Zack sees an Instagram post of the most gorgeous blond he thinks he's ever seen. The blond is frowning at the camera and is wearing a ridiculous Chocobo hat, obviously forced upon him, but the post—by the official brand page for Tifa’s bar—has thousands of likes anyway.
Zack wets his lips and regretfully gives Aerith her phone back. “Okay,” he says, chagrined, “you've convinced me.”
#
Seventh Heaven’s chocobo cocktail includes vodka, rum, watermelon schnapps, mango slices, and an upside-down ChocoGo energy drink. The twisty straw (with a chocobo wearing a cowboy hat on it) which patrons get to keep if they order the drink, is too tempting for Zack to pass on. But, once he actually comes face-to-face with the drink, he considers that he hadn’t thought hard enough about what he was getting himself into.
He takes a sip. He can’t even taste the alcohol, really, which must mean that the bartender is a miracle worker of some kind on top of whatever spell she’s put on Aerith. Zack vaguely wonders if she's a witch. He also wonders frequently whether Aerith is a witch. So maybe that's why they hit it off.
“I think I might be getting too old to drink stuff like this,” Zack says, eyeing the monstrosity in his hands warily as he rejoins Aerith towards the middle of the bar.
The drink is more intimidating than he expected, and he hasn’t been able to throw drinks back without worrying about a hangover since sometime before his twenty-third birthday, now more than six years ago.
Aerith grins over the glass in her hands.
“What’s the verdict on that?” Zack asks, nodding toward the drink in her hands.
“Tifa makes the best white Russians. Nothing like the milk-flavored vodka they used to serve at The Rusty Arrow.” She makes a face with her tongue sticking out to show her disdain for the old college town’s bar’s version of her apparently now-favorite drink.
Zack laughs. “Just another rea—”
“Zack?” a voice from behind him cuts through the noise.
It’s both familiar and unfamiliar. It sounds like a voice he knows, and yet he can’t place it. When he turns to see who the voice belongs to, he’s face-to-face with the pouty blond from the bar’s Instagram page.
Zack’s grin doesn’t miss a beat. “You know my name?” he asks, grinning. “I’d ask if we’ve met before, but I think I’d remember someone as pretty as you.”
“Zack,” Aerith interjects. “This is Cloud, Tifa’s friend. I showed you his picture earlier.”
“I remember that.” His eyes haven’t left the blond’s face. And the blond’s face hasn’t left his mind. How could he have forgotten? He'd thought the blond was pretty on Instagram, but in real life, the pouty lips are a true sight to behold.
“I—” Cloud starts, stops, and then presses his lips together, eyes narrowing, like he’s not quite sure how to answer a question Zack hasn’t asked.
“Tifa probably told him about you,” Aerith supplies.
“Yeah,” Cloud says, nodding, though looking unconvinced and still not meeting Zack’s eye. “Sorry.”
Unsure what the apology could be for, Zack tilts his head. “Huh? Don’t be.”
Aerith downs the rest of her white Russian in one motion and says, “Would you look at that? I guess I should go back up to the bar.” She gives Zack a meaningful glance as she excuses herself.
Zack isn’t quite sure what vibe she was getting from the stilted and awkward conversation here, which can only mean her exit is probably more about going up to try to chat up the bartender and less about getting out of the way here. Some wingman she is. He’ll have to give her some constructive feedback on that later.
He sips his drink through the straw to give himself a second to think about what to say to the blond in front of him.
To his surprise, the blond breaks the silence first. “Aerith says you were in SOLDIER.”
Zack nods. “From when I graduated college until almost two years ago.”
“You… retired?” Cloud’s eyes glint questioningly at him, eyebrows quirking ever so slightly.
Zack tilts his head one way and then the other. “Not… exactly. There was a bit of an accident and… long story short, the medical team wouldn’t let me stay around.”
Cloud blinks. “Oh. Sorry.”
Zack grins and shakes his head. “Don’t be. It's not like you're the one who did it. What about you?”
“Huh?”
“I mean, what do you do? Like for work?” Zack knows it’s a pathetically uninteresting topic, but maybe the small talk will lead somewhere? Cloud hasn’t walked away yet. So that has to count for something.
“I have a delivery job, but I help out around here on the side.”
Zack nods.
“I thought about joining the infantry at Shinra during high school, but… couldn’t bring myself to do it again.”
Zack almost asks what Cloud means by again, but then he figures he must have misheard. Because he’s pretty sure no one in high school would be thinking about enlistment a second time. Instead, Zack shrugs. “Probably for the best,” he says. “It’s not like they really give a shit about anyone who joins up with them in the end.” He winces at his own words. “Sorry. My jaded feelings about Shinra probably aren’t the lightest topic.”
“It’s okay,” Cloud replies, a small upturn of his lips forming that Zack can't help but notice.
Zack nods, using his drink as an excuse to think about where to steer the conversation.
After a moment, it's Cloud who breaks the silence once more. “Aerith already warned me that you don’t—But you really don’t remember anything?”
“Sorry?” Zack asks, after swallowing a mouthful of tropical-flavored alcohol. He’s not sure what Cloud is talking about. That Zack doesn’t remember anything. Doesn’t remember anything about what?
Instead of explaining, Cloud shakes his head. “Nothing. Forget it. Uh—shit. Sorry. It was nice meeting you, Zack.”
Zack blinks. “Hm? You’re leaving?”
This conversation has gone nothing short of just okay, but he doesn’t want it to end. Cloud mumbles something that, even without catching it, Zack knows is an excuse. He pushes through the crowd, towards a table of people, and Zack is left watching him and wondering what the hell happened. Certainly, the conversation ending had been too abrupt to ask for Cloud’s number, a fact he silently laments before skulking in the direction Aerith had disappeared.
He tries not to look at Cloud as he makes his way through the bar, but it's like the attempt not to has the opposite effect, and he keeps glancing toward that blond hair, shimmering in the colored lighting of the establishment. Flirting and smoothtalking was never his forte; he is too unfiltered for that. But had he said something that bad? He doesn’t think so. Does he smell? Aerith would have said something on the ride over here if that were the case, right? So maybe it has nothing to do with him at all. Though that doesn’t leave him feeling any less disappointed.
Tifa looks somewhat surprised to see him when he approaches the bar. He gestures and tries to ask about Aerith, but his voice is lost to the music and crowded conversation. She points toward the door next to the bar that says Employees only. “Aerith just went that way,” she yells over the noise. “You’re welcome back there, too.”
“Thanks,” Zack yells back.
He tries to ignore the fact that he can feel her watching him all the way to the door, and he sighs, slightly relieved when it’s swinging behind him. He steps further into the back room, a lightbulb swinging above him. Aerith stands in front of a sink, water running, hands submerged in soapy water.
Zack blinks. “What are you doing?”
“I thought Tifa could use the help. You know, since you were keeping Cloud busy.” Aerith replies. She glances over at him. “If you’re just going to stand there, you might as well get on drying duty.”
Zack pulls off his sweatshirt and sidles around her before picking up a towel and a wet glass from the dish rack. “I don’t know,” Zack says. “I get the feeling I blew it.”
“You didn’t,” Aerith says.
“You’re not even going to ask me what happened?” Zack asks, offended because even if she's right, he just wants her to pat him on the head and commiserate.
She shrugs. “I just know you didn't blow it. Why? What happened?”
“The whole conversation was awkward. I mean, it wasn’t terrible. But I couldn’t really think of what to say. And then out of nowhere, he seemed like he was looking for a fire escape and said it was nice to meet me, and then he went to talk to some people at a different table. So here I am.”
Zack places the now-dry glass on a tray before picking up another from the drying rack next to Aerith.
“Maybe he got nervous.”
Zack shakes his head. “No. I definitely messed up somehow.” He replays the conversation in his head. “He asked me if I really didn’t remember something, and then when I didn’t know what he meant, he got all weird and left.”
Aerith nods, almost like she expected that. “I tried to warn him,” she says, though Zack isn't really sure she means it to be toward him.
Zack wants to ask what that means, but before he can, Tifa walks in.
“Cloud got weird and left poor Zack here hanging,” Aerith says to her.
“You’ll have to forgive Cloud. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing when it comes to trying to hit on someone.” Tifa says. She brushes past both Zack and Aerith and grabs a tray of clean glasses. “He means well. But he’s not used to talking to someone so—” she stops herself from whatever she was about to say.
“Someone so what? I can be less of that, whatever it is, if he gives me his number,” Zack says half-jokingly.
“Cloud and I grew up together,” Tifa says, at length. “Let’s just say… he’s always been looking for something. And he tends to build up an idea of how things should be or go in his head. So reality can never quite live up to it.”
“That’s… cryptic,” Zack replies.
“He’ll come around,” she says more simply.
Zack doesn’t say, I barely even know the guy. Even though that’s true, it’s not exactly like he’s not hoping for another chance to talk to him. Zack knows he's maybe lacking in the brain cells department, but he has eyes. The tousled blond hair, the soft green eyes, the soft cheeks, and the sharp jawline… The glass he’s drying almost slips out of his hand, and he internally tells himself to stop being distracted by a pretty boy.
After Tifa leaves the backroom, Zack looks at Aerith. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“Hm?” Aerith says.
She’s not getting away with that, not this time. “Have Cloud and I met before? Even Tifa just now was acting like…”
“Isn’t she so nice?”
“Did I hit my head on something?”
“Zack,” Aerith says.
“Seriously. What’s going on?”
Aerith pulls her hands out of the soapy water and pushes on the drain plug release. Her eyes stay on the water as it swirls down the sink. “That’s something you’ll have to figure out on your own.”
Zack drops the subject with that, only because he’s unsure what the hell it means, and all this talk about things he doesn’t quite grasp is starting to annoy him. And he doesn’t want to get snappy at his best friend, not when they came here to have fun together.
Plus, she is right. Tifa is nice. Even gives both of them free drinks for the rest of the night for helping out with the dishes. So, he ends up staying with Aerith past last call. After the bar clears out of patrons, there’s just a small group of people left, and Aerith tells him he’s not allowed to leave until she’s ready, so they stay even longer.
So he meets Tifa’s other friends. First, her friend Barrett, who seems thrilled to hear Zack talk shit about Shinra’s VPO. Her friends Biggs and Wedge tell him to keep them in mind if he goes into defense work in the future, without saying anything too much beyond that, and Zack knows better than to ask. Her friend Jessie keeps eyeing him up and down and touching the side of his arm as they talk. He’d wonder why Aerith didn’t try to set him up with Jessie if she weren’t too obviously not his type. He tolerates it because he doesn’t want to seem rude, and this seems like a tight-knit group of friends where word travels fast.
He’s also extremely aware—the entire night—of Cloud’s presence. He can’t shake his knowledge of that, for whatever reason. He spends most of the night just out of reach of the conversations that Zack has with the others who are present, like he’s avoiding him, which just makes Zack all the more curious. What did he do to be so off-putting to Cloud? They’d spoken for less than five minutes.
After Tifa locks the bar, the group stands around outside.
Jessie stretches, arms out, arching her back. “Well, I’m wiped. Should probably head home and hit the hay. Unless… Za—”
“No,” Biggs says. He and Wedge each grab one of her arms.
“What?” Zack asks.
Jessie winks at him. “I know a pretty boy when I see one.”
“Jessie just likes to make guys like you and Cloud blush. It makes her feel powerful or something,” Biggs says. “And she’s had way too much to drink.”
“I’m not that drunk,” Jessie says, but she trips over a rock and makes a dramatic sound as she stumbles, leaning her entire bodyweight into Wedge.
“Make sure she drinks water,” Tifa says.
Barrett groans. “Guess I can’t expect to see them on time tomorrow.”
Tifa pats him gingerly on the shoulder. “Well, maybe that gives you extra time in the morning to make pancakes with Marlene?”
He nods. “She’ll love that.” Then he frowns, looking like he’s pissed off even as he lifts a hand at them to wave a casual goodbye. As he stalks off, his ramblings to himself are completely audible to the group that’s left. “But daddy’s gotta pay for that pancake mix somehow. Damn Bisquick and their shrinkflation. Not to mention, she’s got a little league game tomorrow. And the neighbor’s been getting more and more passive-aggressive about my lawn…”
Once Barrett is gone and out of earshot, it’s just the four of them left.
“Oh!” Aerith says, too suddenly, suspiciously suddenly even. “I think I forgot my wallet inside… Tifa, do you mind letting me back in? I’ll be super quick, I promise.” Aerith looks pleadingly at the other woman.
Tifa eyes Aerith and then looks at Cloud. Whatever look is exchanged between them must mean something because Tifa nods and then twirls the keyring around her index finger. “Sure.”
And then he’s alone with Cloud.
“Sorry,” Cloud says before Zack can think to say anything first.
Zack tilts his head, “What for?”
Cloud pauses, stepping backward and rubbing a hand behind his neck. “I didn’t mean to be rude earlier.”
Zack grins, “It’s alright. I was worried I’d done something rude to you.”
“Aerith warned me beforehand, but I—”
“Warned you about what?”
Cloud presses his lips together and shakes his head.
Zack tilts his head again, leaning forward. “C’mon, you can’t just leave me hanging like that.”
Cloud’s eyes flit up to meet his, almost mischievous, and for some reason, Zack feels momentarily that he’s been hit with a brick.
“That you’re… different,” Cloud says, at length.
“What? Compared to other people?” It’s not untrue, but Cloud’s reluctance to have said as much leaves him skeptical.
Still. He prefers to act first and think later most of the time. “Well, I’m still not sure what I did to upset you earlier, but… how about you let me make it up to you?”
Cloud’s eyebrows raise, clearly not having expected that offer. “Make it up to me how?”
Zack holds his fist out, then points his index finger towards the sky. “One dinner, anything you want, and I’ll cook it myself.”
Cloud looks even more surprised at that. “You can cook?”
Zack drops his hand to his hip, putting on his best pout. “What’s so shocking about that?”
“You just… don’t seem like the type.”
“Well, if it sucks, then I owe you twice over, and you can choose what that means.”
Cloud watches him for a moment, almost like he’s waiting for Zack to change his mind. When that doesn’t happen, Cloud nods. “Okay, deal. But only because I’m morbidly curious about your cooking.”
Zack smiles and motions for Cloud to hand over his phone. He inputs himself as a contact before texting himself from Cloud’s phone so that they have each other’s numbers.
“You sure don’t waste any time.”
Zack laughs.
Aerith and Tifa reappear through the door of Seventh Heaven, with impeccable timing. Zack knows Aerith well enough to have an idea of exactly how much of his and Cloud’s conversation was overheard. He only makes this clear to her by exchanging a glance with Aerith, in which she looks exactly as smug as he would expect of a guilty person.
“Well, I should get home,” Aerith says. “And the streets are dangerous, so I should probably make sure Zack gets home safe, too.”
“Huh?” Zack asks, but falls into step with her anyway.
Tifa says goodbye, and the two of them wave at the others.
“Soooo,” Aerith prompts when they’re out of earshot.
“So,” Zack replies.
“You’re going to tell me everything, right? About your date?”
He pats her head. “Of course.”
She hums a tune the rest of the way home.
#
He's nowhere. Surrounded by nothing but darkness in every direction. He's not even sure what he's standing on, or if the ground beneath him is solid; it's like a chasm in all directions.
“Hello?” he says aloud, only to be greeted by his own echo.
Nothing appears to be around him, but he can sense something there. He reaches for the Buster Sword on his back, except its not there. He exhales sharply through his nose and shakes his head before turning around. Nothing, still. But the desire to run is bubbling up within him on all sides, telling him to get the hell out. Just get the hell out.
He takes a step at random, in any direction to take him anywhere and also nowhere. He stumbles, falls, like he's forgotten how to walk. And then there's a tube in front of him, snaked on the ground. He drags himself along it a bit before he's able to push himself back onto his feet. Still wobbly, but not about to fall over, he makes his way further into the darkness, and then in front of him a—
Test tube? No, that can't be right. It's the size of a person. He presses his hands on the glass, and the green liquid unfogs, and inside is a blond boy with angular features and—
Then they're nowhere. Together. He and the boy. “Cloud?” he says, remembering the boy’s name. Cloud leans against him, doesn’t stir when he asks the question, but he knows he's right. It's Cloud.
There's that feeling again. Something was watching them, behind them. “Cloud, we have to—” He takes a step forward, and Cloud slides against him, slumping to the ground, all dead weight. Is he—?
No time to think. He hauls Cloud up onto his back. The weight of him means Zack can't run, can't sprint, can't—
But they have to make it. They have to get—
#
Zack sits up in bed, cold, realizes his t-shirt and boxers are sticking to him, drenched. He's always been a hot sleeper, so waking up sweaty is no surprise. But he usually sleeps like a rock. It's rare that he wakes up remembering any dreams.
Even after everything in SOLDIER, he'd not really dreamed much that he could remember anyway. But as he wakes up tonight, before he gets his bearings, he blindly reaches around the bed, hands against the mattress, looking for— “Cloud?” he says out loud. But of course, Cloud is not there.
He'd only just met Cloud last night, hadn't he?
As his sense of the present returns, his sense of space, his sense of reality in the waking world, he exhales heavily and runs a hand over his face. The dream’s details fade, all he remembers is Cloud's presence and the need to get out of there.
He checks his phone. It's not even four in the morning. He opens a text to Cloud, types something, doesn't hit send—knows better than that, and what kind of implication does ‘I had a dream about you’ send to a guy at this time anyway?
He's not the type to ask for late-night trysts, over text or otherwise, and ‘This feels important. You feel important. But also, we just met, and I don't understand what's going on. And it's probably nothing, just that it's almost four in the morning and I had a weird dream.’ isn't such an easy message to get across, especially without seeming like some weird creep.
So he deletes the typed-out nonsense, throws the sheets off himself, and shuffles towards the bathroom. Maybe a shower, then some food, will help.
#
At an appropriate hour of the day, he texts Cloud to find out his favorite meal. When Cloud responds it’s only with a non-committal, ‘Whatever's fine’ and ‘I mostly just eat ramen anyway’ when pressed, Zack decides to go with something that won't disappoint. Rice noodle ramen in chicken broth with sriracha, rice vinegar, soy sauce, scallions, carrots, broccoli, and, of course, soft-boiled eggs.
He had been so antsy that he has chopped everything more than an hour before Cloud arrives. He has also cleaned his bathroom three times because Tseng had once told him at a college party that he judged all their friends based on how clean their bathrooms were, and Zack was just young and tipsy enough for that to make a lasting impression on him.
When the doorbell rings, he’s only wound himself tighter than a spring, and the release towards the door is too excited and abrupt. Cloud will know he was waiting, glancing out the window every five seconds, but he can’t stop himself, regardless.
“Hello,” he says. He can feel the smile on his face, too wide, too eager. He’s never thought twice about wearing his heart on his sleeve, but he also doesn’t want to scare Cloud off, so he attempts to re-arrange his expression to something more palatable.
Still, Cloud laughs—more like blows air through his nose—but it’s enough to set something trilling in Zack’s heart. “Hi,” he says, at length.
Zack steps back, falling away from the threshold. “Well, come in.”
“You know,” Cloud says, stepping out of his shoes, “I don’t normally see people’s homes two days after meeting them.”
Zack pauses at that. “I’m not a serial killer if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Cloud looks at him as if he hadn’t thought of that at all. He tugs at the hem of the sleeves of the black leather bomber jacket that he wears over his (from the looks of it, very fitted) black Henley.
“I know that,” Cloud says.
Zack almost protests, even opens his mouth to do so, but then… he doesn’t want to make Cloud think otherwise. It’s just they’ve only known each other for such little time, and maybe he should have suggested a more public place for their first date. If that’s what this is? Zack realizes he really hopes that’s what this is.
“I just meant—” Clous says, “I’m glad you invited me.”
He’s doing that small smile again, the one that Zack can’t look away from. He gulps and forces himself to anyway, or else he’ll be standing here like an idiot all night just staring at Cloud.
“Do you want something to drink?” he asks.
He rattles off a list of things in the fridge when Cloud nods and heads back into the kitchen, inclining his head to invite Cloud to follow him.
He needs a drink, a glass of water, because maybe he’s dehydrated, and that’s why Cloud is having this effect on him. Dehydration, and not Cloud’s perfectly smooth skin, button nose, soft eyes, and taut forearms.
He places two glasses of water on the kitchen peninsula, sliding one over to Cloud. He drinks a decent amount of his down and then immediately refills it.
“I’ll start the stove now,” he says, “you can make yourself comfortable wherever.”
“I can help if you want,” Cloud offers.
Zack smiles at that and impulsively puts a hand on Cloud’s shoulder. “I’m cooking to make up for offending you the other night, remember?”
Cloud shrugs, “You didn’t.”
“No, no, I did. I don’t know what it was I said, but if you tell me, I’ll make sure not to do it again?”
Cloud shakes his head. “No,” he replies, “it wasn’t anything that’s your fault. It’s just…”
“Just?”
Cloud looks at him, and it feels like he’s seeing right into Zack’s very soul. It makes him breathless. Gods, it has been a very long time since anyone has made him feel that way. It makes his heart beat fast and his fingertips restless.
At length, Cloud says, “I guess you remind me of someone I used to know. A long time ago, I mean.”
Zack presses his lips together. “Sorry,” he says, “that it wasn’t me, I mean. I wish I had known you when I was younger, though. I’ll bet you were a cute kid.”
Cloud flushes ever so slightly, and it’s possibly the most perfect shade of pink that Zack has ever laid eyes on.
“Alright then,” Zack says. He turns to open the pantry and pulls his apron off its hook. “Oh! I almost forgot—” He pulls out his phone and opens up Spotify to cast his favorite cooking playlist to the speaker setup that his friend Kunsel had helped him set up the previous summer.
“Is this . . . ?” Cloud asks when the music starts.
“I only cook to k-pop bangers.”
“2NE1?”
“Cloud, I’m pushing 30. Of course I’m a second-gen stan.”
Cloud makes a face.
Zack points a plastic cooking spoon at him. “Careful. If you make that face again, I’ll have to do the choreography too. And in that case, you'd better hope Ring Ding Dong by SHINee doesn’t start playing.”
“I’d love to see that,” Cloud says, and it seems almost… fond? But who’s fond of someone they met two nights ago? It’s genuine, at least.
They go back and forth, making small talk while he works on making their food. Once Zack’s done cooking, he garnishes both bowls with the scallions and cuts a soft-boiled egg over each.
“Voilà,” he says, placing Cloud’s bowl in front of him at the small kitchenette table.
“This is way nicer than the instant ramen I usually eat,” Cloud says, and he even looks a bit impressed.
Zack tries not to preen too obviously as he sits across from him. “It’s super easy to make. Next time you’re in the mood for it, I’ll teach you.”
“Next time?” Cloud asks, something pixieish in his eyes.
“Noticed that, did you?” Zack asks, rubbing the back of his neck. “It doesn’t have to be like—well. You know. It can mean whatever you want it to mean.”
“Whatever I want it to mean?” Cloud asks, still looking at Zack in a way that’s certainly playful, but because Cloud looks like that, it makes Zack feel a bit too hot, and like he’s digging himself into a huge hole.
He nods, swallowing a mouthful of water. “Oh! Do you drink wine? I have wine. Wine is good, right?”
“Yes, Zack, wine is good.”
“Good!” he stands up too fast, bumping his knee on the table. “It’s an off-dry Riesling. Is that okay? I had it before at a winery near Junon, and that was a while ago, but I think I remember liking it.” He realizes as he’s speaking that he’s rambling, but even as he realizes it, he can’t make himself shut up.
He pours two glasses of wine, puts a wine stopper in the bottle before putting it back in the fridge. He turns to face Cloud, who has been rather quiet this whole time, but is leaning back in his chair and looking at Zack with an amused expression on his face. Zack wonders if he was meant to live in a time when kings had court jesters, because he’s feeling rather silly.
He runs out of words to say by the time he’s placing their wine glasses on the table.
“What if I want it to mean that this is a date?” Cloud asks.
Zack blinks. “Huh?”
Cloud’s expression shifts, but then he presses his lips together and narrows his eyes, looking resolved, even if he doesn’t quite meet Zack’s eye when he speaks. “You said before that there would be a next time. And then you said it could mean whatever I wanted it to mean so... so what if I want it to mean that this is a date... and next time will be a second date?”
Zack wets his lips. “Then I’d say… that’s good. Because I kind of was secretly hoping you thought it was. A date, I mean.”
Cloud smiles again. That small, almost imperceptible turn of his lips. The softening of his eyes. It is way too soon to be in love with Cloud, right? They only just met two days ago. Still, something inside of Zack is roiling.
Cloud stays after dinner until they’ve split the entire bottle of Riesling between them.
“You must have gotten to see a lot of cool places working with SOLDIER,” Cloud says after Zack finishes telling a story about camping with his unit outside in the rain and their tents washing away.
He never tells too much about what they were actually doing anywhere. He’d signed so many non-disclosures over the years that he never knows when Shinra might try to hold him to them, and while he and Tseng are friends… that’s all the more reason not to push it. Tseng is nothing if not very good at his job of legal intimidation.
Zack inclines his head. “I guess. I never really got to like explore the way a tourist would, though. There’s a lot of places I wish I could go again. On my own terms, you know?”
Cloud nods. “You should do it.”
Zack laughs. “I suppose.” He rolls his shoulder. “My injury still acts up sometimes. Makes traveling kind of… unpredictable.”
Cloud eyes his shoulder, then looks back up at Zack’s face. He wants to ask about the injury, but he’s polite enough not to. Zack’s glad for that. He could see himself telling Cloud, though, eventually.
Maybe one day… if there’s a future where they’re friends or… something more, maybe? His desires and feelings are already so strong that it’s confusing to him. And Cloud isn’t even trying to make him feel anything purposefully. He's barely done anything except look at Zack like he's known him longer than Zack’s own parents. And here Zack is already smitten.
“Can I ask who it is exactly I remind you of?” Zack asks, at length, wanting to get the subject off himself.
Cloud’s eyes go wide.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Zack immediately says. “It’s okay.”
Cloud exhales and, after a long minute, says, “No, it’s fine. I’m just not sure what to say, I guess? I had someone who was… he was my best friend. Only friend for a while there. I had this massive crush on him, actually, but he probably just thought I was some stupid, annoying kid. I mean, I was just some stupid, annoying kid. Looking back, I don’t know what I… if I was anything to him, really, or if it was just a matter of proximity and circumstance, you know?”
Zack nods. “I think I get it. But if he had the chance and you weren’t anything to him, then I think he’s kind of stupid for that.”
Cloud makes a face that’s somewhere between a laugh and something pained. “No, it’s… it’s okay. I mean—Well, actually, he died, so I guess it wasn’t okay for a while there, but—”
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I just insulted your dead friend.” Zack buries his face in his hands.
“It’s not a big deal,” Cloud tells him.
Zack looks up and shakes his head. He reaches out, and Cloud doesn’t flinch away, so he rests a hand on his shoulder. “No, it sounds like a very big deal. I’m sorry.”
“It was—it was a long time ago. I’m sorry for bringing up something like that on a first date. Not very cool of me, huh?” Cloud quickly wipes at the corner of his eye with the edge of his sleeve. “You’re probably regretting inviting me over.”
“Not true,” Zack says.
Cloud sniffs then stands, leaving Zack’s hand to fall onto the couch between where they had been sitting together. “I should probably get going anyway.”
“Are you okay to drive?” Zack asks, standing up too.
“Uh—” Cloud tries.
“I mean, I won’t stop you from leaving, but—safely?”
Cloud looks up at him, eyes shiny still. He grabs Zack suddenly, by the collar, pulls him in close. Moments ago, Zack would not have begrudged this whatsoever, but now it doesn’t feel like Cloud is in the best headspace, and he’d rather, if Cloud is going to kiss him, that it be a less tearful event.
“Cloud?” he asks.
“I thought I could handle this. But you’re—” He shakes his head, then releases Zack so suddenly that Zack stumbles backward slightly, legs knocking into the couch next to them.
Zack frowns. “I’m what?”
Cloud pauses for a long moment. “You’re, well, you.”
“I’m sorry,” Zack says, and he thinks he means it, but he’s not sure exactly what Cloud means.
“Don’t be,” Cloud says. He walks towards where his jacket sits on the back of the kitchenette chair he’d been sitting at before. “This was... nice. Really nice, even.”
“At least let me get you a sober ride home,” Zack says.
“Alright.” Cloud smiles softly, again. Though this time it’s more painful to look at, knowing he probably won’t see it again anytime soon, with the urgency Cloud is trying to get away from him all of a sudden.
#
The Buster Sword in his hands. Pointing at the soldiers in front of him. “You think you can catch me?” he asks. “I'm never going back!”
He turns and sees them grabbing someone slumped on the ground near the windmill. He realizes that’s not just any someone. It’s Cloud.
He's gotta start fighting now. They're not taking him, and they're sure as hell not taking Cloud either.
But he's woozy. Something's not right.
The test tubes.
How long had they been in there?
He plants his feet into the ground and then launches forwards. He barely manages to defeat them all. And they keep trying to drag Cloud away. It takes everything in him not to collapse. To carry Cloud back with him.
“You're heavier than you look,” he tells Cloud. “I hope you wake up soon.”
He hopes it'll be easier to stay in the shadows at nightfall. Cloud is so helpless, and Zack is not what he was before they put them in those tubes. He wipes at the sweat and frustrated tears on his face as they make their way back into the mansion.
“Don't worry,” he tells Cloud. “I don't know if you can hear me. But if you can, then I want you to know that I won't let them take you. We'll get out of this mess somehow. I just need to come up with a plan. And maybe avoid the main roads for a while.”
He coughs, wipes more dirt, sweat, and frustrated tears off his face.
“We’ll be okay,” he says, though he doesn't really believe it. “We'll be okay.”
#
He wakes up groggy and dehydrated. The dream is already fading, but there is one detail he remembers. Cloud’s limp weight, heavy against him. It had felt so real in the dream. But it couldn't be. Obviously. He had only met Cloud a few days ago.
When he sits up to drink water, he feels nauseous and disoriented.
He can see a tiny sliver of sunshine through the curtains. It's bright out. He checks the time and sees he has a missed call from Aerith and a string of worried text messages.
He texts her back. ‘Call you after work. Overslept.’
No missed notifications from Cloud. He tries to swallow down his disappointment about that.
#
“I’m sure it's not anything you did,” Aerith assures him, approximately seven hundred times over the next five days.
He’s helping in the greenhouse when she suggests, “Well, why don’t you stop by Seventh Heaven tomorrow with me? He’ll probably be there.”
Zack bites his lip. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I don’t want to like—seem like a stalker or someone who can’t take a hint, you know?”
“Well, can I at least talk to Tifa and try to glean something from her? Cloud must have talked to her about it if it went as poorly as you said.”
He sighs. “I’m not going to ask you to do that. But I guess I won’t stop you, either.”
“Good! Because if you keep coming in this mopey, you’re going to drown all my plants,” she says, gently confiscating his watering can.
He looks at the plant he’d been standing over, and water is in fact spilling over the edges of the new pot he’d just transplanted it into. He grimaces at his own handiwork. “Oops.”
“I hope she survives,” Aerith says, mournfully, gently stroking a green-and-pink leaf with one finger. “She’s my favorite aglaonema.”
“Sorry,” Zack says. “I can’t seem to do anything right this week.”
Aerith shakes her head at him. “Again, I really don’t think that’s what happened with you and Cloud. He’s just . . . “
“There’s someone he’s not over yet,” Zack says.
“Well,” Aerith says, tilting her head, “I don’t know about—”
“No, I mean. The friend he told me about.”
“The friend?”
“His dead friend. The one he had a crush on? He cried talking about him when he was at my place, and I put my foot in my mouth—though not in that order, I think—but. I don’t know. I don’t want him to force himself to give me a chance if he’s still hung up on something like that, you know?”
Aerith nods. “I know, Zack. Alright. That’s our plan then. I talk to Tifa, and you sit tight.”
He doesn’t expect that plan to change anything. He expects he just has to wait it out. Starve the crush on Cloud, and eventually it will go away. Which, unfortunately, means staying as far away from Seventh Heaven as possible for the time being.
Zack reaches for another plant, and Aerith smacks his hand. “Now get out of my greenhouse. You’ve done enough here.”
#
Zack’s just finished with an older client whose workout routine he’s been helping gear towards heart-healthy, low-impact exercises that are easy on joints. He heads to the front desk of the gym and stops short in his tracks when he reaches the front lobby.
Yuffie, the girl on shift at the front desk, is enthusiastically describing different membership plans to a head of blond, tousled hair.
“Cloud?”
Cloud turns to look at him, turns pink, and then averts his gaze. “Hi, Zack. Aerith said I might find you here. I hope that’s not weird?” A pause, Cloud exhales. “It’s definitely weird, isn’t it? I’ll just go—” He makes to leave, but has to pass by Zack to get to the front door.
“Wait,” Zack says. He touches Cloud’s wrist, only light enough to catch his attention, not to stop him outright.
Cloud stops walking, raises his eyes to meet Zack’s gaze, finally.
“It’s not weird. I mean—well, it might have been easier to call me? And definitely don’t believe anything Yuffie tells you about membership perks. She’s gunning for a commission this month—” Yuffie chuckles incriminatingly. “—But. I’m glad to see you.”
“You are?” Cloud asks, looking a bit unsure.
“Yeah, I thought I scared you off last time.”
Cloud shakes his head. “No, I—”
“Hang on,” Zack says, “maybe we should take this conversation somewhere more private.” He glares at Yuffie, who shrugs as if she doesn’t care whether she can eavesdrop on their conversation or not, even though he knows it is.
Zack finds a bench in the corridor near the men’s locker room that isn’t occupied and is safely away from eavesdropping twenty-something-year-old girls.
“So,” Zack says, “what brings you here? Other than our forty-five group exercise classes a week and state-of-the-art equipment, I mean.”
“Who’s gunning for a commission now?” Cloud asks, corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles.
Zack exhales with a smile. “Hey. If one of us is getting commission for signing you up, I am not letting it be Yuffie.”
“Fair enough,” Cloud says, “I probably owe you at least that much anyway.”
Zack shakes his head. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“Well. Except for making it up to you after ruining a perfectly nice dinner date last week?”
“You don’t owe me for that,” Zack says. “It’s okay. I don’t know what you’re going through or anything like that, and… I understand if you’re not interested or just not ready to date or—”
“I am interested,” Cloud says. “And I want to try again. If you’ll give me another chance?”
Zack wraps an arm around Cloud’s shoulders, giving him an awkward side-hug. “You can have as many chances as you want,” he says, “well… at least five chances. Then I’ll need to think about it.” He releases Cloud from his grip. “Sorry, forgot how sweaty I am.”
“It’s all right,” Cloud says, tucking a piece of stray blond hair behind his ears.
Zack watches that motion closely. Way too closely, in fact. Worse, Cloud sounds like he genuinely doesn’t mind Zack’s sweaty one-armed hug. He wonders if Cloud knows what that does to Zack’s stomach.
“Okay,” Cloud says, “well, when you’re done here, you should come by Seventh Heaven if you want. We have this projector there, and after the bar closes, we all watch movies on it sometimes. I know it’s not—”
“Sounds fun,” Zack says. “I’ll be there.”
“Really?” Cloud asks.
Zack nods. “It’s a date.”
#
He drinks water for most of the night because now that he’s approaching thirty, alcohol makes him more sleepy than anything. No way will he last through a 1:30 AM showing of Howl’s Moving Castle with so much as a single beer in his system. He’ll be lucky to make it through regardless, but he’ll try for Cloud.
“Have you seen this one before?” Cloud asks him.
“Of course! It’s basically a classic.”
“I like book Howl better,” Wedge says, joining their conversation unceremoniously, “‘I assure you my friends, I am cone sold stober.’ He’s much funnier.”
“Welsh Howl is fun,” Zack agrees. “But far be it from me to insult Christian Bale’s Howl either.”
The group rearranges the inside of Seventh Heaven to resemble something like a theater. After the floors are mopped and dried, Jessie and Biggs haul in an ungodly amount of throw pillows and blankets, and everyone gets comfortable. Zack ends up leaning against a pile of throw pillows in between Aerith and Cloud. He tugs a few blankets over his and Cloud’s laps.
“Leave room for the Holy Spirit, you two,” Jessie says, pointing at them.
“Rich coming from you,” Cloud replies, scooting closer to Zack in what Zack suspects is some kind of spite, but he’s not about to complain.
Then the movie starts up, and the other lights in the bar get turned down by Tifa somewhere before she comes to sit next to Aerith.
About halfway through, he starts feeling himself dozing, and tries his best to power through the desire to fall asleep. Throw blankets and pillows on the floor of a bar are far more comfortable than they have any right to be, and his body will be aching tomorrow for certain because of it. Cloud shifts at some point, leaning against Zack’s side. The weight is comfortable, familiar in a way it has no right to be.
#
He’s on borrowed time. He’s been on borrowed time ever since they’d run into Cissnei. Maybe ever since they stepped foot in Nibelheim, apparently five long years ago. He’s propped Cloud against him, the only real way he can be sure they’re both safe while he tries to sleep, and if Cloud does wake up, then he’ll know.
“We’re getting closer,” he tells Cloud. “Sector Five isn’t far. And—”
What will they do when he gets there? He doesn’t know. Aerith might not be happy to have him drag a whole battalion of Shinra infantry to her door. And even if she is okay with it, and even knowing what she is, it is not like she can very well help Zack stop them.
Plus, he knows now that the Turks have been brought in, and he trusts Tseng to do the right thing for as long as he can, but even Tseng cannot save him now. He’s sure of it. Cissnei let them escape twice; there is no way Shinra will let any Turks who have met Zack before search for him again. They’ll send in someone less personal.
Still. He’ll make sure Cloud gets out of this, even if he doesn’t. He decided that a long while ago.
“We’re friends, right?” he asks Cloud, not for the first time. “Not that it matters. You’re stuck with me now.” He looks at his nails, caked with dirt and blood. “I wouldn’t blame you if you’re sick of me after this whole thing. Maybe it’s better if you can’t hear me.”
Earlier, he’d split a canteen of water between them, very careful when he poured it into Cloud’s mouth. It had been raining, so he’d stripped their clothes off to try his best to wash them before letting everything dry in front of the fire in the small sheltered area he’d set up Cloud in. “I’m probably doing this all wrong. She’ll be better at taking care of you, at least.”
He pats Cloud’s hair gently with a hand.
“If you can hear me, you have to let me know when you wake up, so I can properly be embarrassed for all this rambling since we left.”
Then he tucks his chin over Cloud’s shoulder and falls asleep.
#
He blinks his eyes, waking up just in time to see Howl swallow a star. Cloud is asleep against his shoulder. Zack carefully pushes a piece of blond hair out of Cloud’s face.
What are you doing to me, Cloud? Haunting my dreams like that.
It had felt so real again.
Later, as the credits on the screen roll, Tifa’s arms raised to stretch behind her. She let out a long yawn. “You’re welcome to stay,” she says, looking over Aerith’s head at Zack. “Everyone else probably is.” She looked around, eyes scanning the group. Most of the others had already fallen asleep or looked more than halfway there. “Of course, you can go too, I’m sure you have other things to do tomorrow.”
“Well, I’d hate to disturb,” he points to the blond asleep on his shoulder.
“He’s grumpy when he doesn’t get enough sleep. Wise decision.” She settles back in the mess of blankets and pillows, out of Zack’s line of sight on the other side of Aerith.
#
For their third date, Zack suggests a hike. One short enough that it is unlikley to bother his injury, but far enough away that it’s an interesting change of venue. It’s a short walk along a wooded trail to a scenic waterfall.
“Is that—?”
“It sure looks like—”
“Puppy?”
Zack whirls around. He is not expecting to see Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth at the trailhead.
He grins, excited to see a group of familiar, friendly faces. “Hey, guys. Long time no see!”
“I’ll say,” Angeal says, running a hand through his hair. “What’s it been? Five years?”
“Two since I—” Zack says. “But yeah, maybe longer since I worked with any of you, except,” he nods at Sepiroth, whose eyes linger on his for a moment.
“And who is this?”
While he was distracted, Cloud had joined him. Or rather, almost joined, but stayed a few steps back. He looks... angry? Not happy anyway. But he isn’t looking at Zack with that expression. Zack looks between Cloud and Sephiroth, who are all of a sudden having a stare-down.
“Uh,” Zack says awkwardly. “Anyway, this is Cloud. Cloud, this is Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth. I know them from when I was—”
“—SOLDIER,” Cloud finishes, somehow already knowing the answer.
Zack had been told that veterans had a certain air about them, a certain walk, the way they held themselves gave them away to some people who had been around enough others or some who had been through it themselves. But he didn’t realize it was that obvious to Cloud.
“Seph,” Angeal says. “Don’t do that here.”
Zack’s watching Sephiroth warily now, too. He respects the hell out of the guy, and there is no doubt that Sephiroth is a hero in his own right, but Zack does not like the way the other man was staring at Cloud. It makes him feel oddly like he needs to stand between them. So he does.
“We cool?” he asks.
Sephiroth sends a glance at Cloud, then looks at Zack.
“Seph,” Angeal warns again.
Rather than answering, Sephiroth turns, long hair dramatically flowing behind him. “I just thought I recognized your friend, Fair. I must be mistaken.”
Genesis tilts his head before following Sephiroth wordlessly onto the trail.
“Sorry about them,” Angeal says. “We should catch up sometime, though, Zack. I’d love to hear what you’re up to these days.” He glances at Cloud. “It’s nice to see you with someone else. You were always so… driven in SOLDIER, and you were younger than most of us. I worried you were a little isolated.”
Zack blinks. “You worried about me back then?”
Angeal shrugs. “It was hard not to, honestly. Though—” he looks towards where Sephiroth and Genesis disappeared through the treeline. “—I think maybe it wasn’t you I needed to worry about. Anyway. Sorry again. I should go catch up.”
“We’ll let you get a head start,” Zack says, still unsettled from the stare-down he’d witnessed.
“Good idea,” Angeal says, apologetically. He holds his hand out to clasp Cloud’s. “Nice to meet you, kid. Take care of our puppy for us, yeah?” He messes Zack’s hair up with his hand before jogging ahead of them.
They wait a few minutes before following. The start of the hike is awkwardly silent. And the whole situation is bugging Zack until he can’t hold it in any longer.
“So do you like… know Sephiroth?” he asks after a while.
Cloud doesn’t answer for long enough that Zack thinks he’s pretending not to hear. Then he says. “We’ve had some… run-ins, you could say. I don’t like the guy. Sorry. They seemed like friends of yours, I shouldn’t have—”
“Hey,” Zack says, “they just happened to be here. I came here to see you, remember?”
Cloud pouts and swats at a bug that’s flying around his head. It must think the blond hair is some kind of plant, and Zack has to suppress a laugh. He holds out his hand, “Come on, there’s a path that branches off up ahead, we can running into avoid them that way.”
Cloud looks at his hand, then at Zack, almost like he doesn’t want to take it. Zack is about to let it drop back to his side when Cloud makes the decision and takes it, lacing their fingers together.
“Still,” Zack says, “I’ve never seen Sephiroth act like that. Are you okay?”
Cloud nods. He squeezes Zack’s hand in his. “Yeah, I am now. Thanks, Zack.”
It’s too humid to hold hands through the whole trail, to Zack’s chagrin. But his palms are getting uncomfortably sweaty, and he needs both of them to open the water bottle he’d brought along. Still, it’s nice while it lasts.
The side trail is a bit more challenging, but it spits them out at an overhang above the waterfalls. The others must have already turned to hike back because there is no sign of other people around. Zack sits down, dangling his feet on the edge, and pats the spot next to him. Cloud joins him there.
“How long have you and Tifa been friends?” he asks, out of curiosity, and because he’s uncomfortable with silence. For as much as he feels comfortable and familiar with Cloud, he does remember occasionally that they don’t know each other that well, and as fun as these dates are they’re also supposed to be about getting that information. Right?
“Like our whole lives, basically,” Cloud says. “We grew up in the same town.”
“Oh, that’s cool,” Zack says. “I don’t have anyone like that.”
“What about Aerith?” Cloud asks.
“We met in college,” Zack says. “My freshman year roommate, Tseng, and I became friends, and then he introduced her and me to each other.”
“Oh, that’s…” Cloud starts. “Wait, Tseng?”
Zack nods.
Cloud looks like he’s having a hard time processing that information. He must know about Tseng’s role at Shinra as General Counsel. There’d been a couple of news pieces about it when the promotion had happened.
“Don’t worry,” Zack says, “for the sake of our friendship, I do not talk to him about anything Shinra related. Including how much I now think they suck. They barely covered any medical care for my injury after they discharged me. Trust me, I have gripes with them as much as anyone.”
“Right,” Cloud says, settling back.
After a moment of silence, other than the rushing sound of the waterfall and the scent of water running over rocks and dirt to disturb them, Zack says, “This is nice.”
Cloud sends an amused glance sideways at him.
“Would be nicer if I could shut up,” he agrees.
Cloud laughs. “I like when you talk,” he says, “it’s... distracting, but in a good way.”
“Well, that makes one person I’ve met who thinks that. Sometimes I wish I could shut myself up.”
Cloud looks at him for a long moment. Zack meets his gaze questioningly.
“I could shut you up,” Cloud says, turning red even as the words leave his mouth.
Zack tries to memorize the image in the split second he allows himself before he replies, “I would really like it if you did.”
The first kiss is very clumsy. A mess of teeth and lips, the technique of two people much younger than themselves, but then he’d been anticipating this for longer than he thinks he realized. Cloud makes him feel things no one else has. He supposes it makes sense it would feel that way. They pull apart, and Zack exhales a small laugh.
“Sorry,” Cloud says, “I haven’t... It’s been a long time since I’ve kissed anybody.”
“Me too,” Zack says.
“Should we—” Cloud starts.
Zack doesn’t bother to wait to hear the rest of the question. He leans in to kiss Cloud again. Second time is the charm, it turns out. Cloud’s lips feel electric against his own, even as soft as they are. They both smell like Off Deep Woods, but that doesn’t make the kiss any less enjoyable. In fact, Zack dips his fingers under the hem of Cloud’s athletic tank top and lets his fingers trace the ridges of Cloud’s spine.
Cloud hums against his mouth and licks against Zack’s teeth. Zack obliges, letting Cloud’s tongue meet his, and in the back of his mind, he thinks he’ll always oblige Cloud anything he wants.
Cloud’s fingers are on his sides, tracing the front of his ribcage. Zack’s shirt is now hiked too far up to be decent, and he has to force himself to stop to breathe. Cloud pants for breath too as they part.
“As much as it pains me to say this,” Zack says, “we should probably wait until we get back inside somewhere to keep going.”
Cloud swallows, and Zack watches the movement of his Adam’s apple with rapt attention. “Yeah,” Cloud agrees, at length, “you’re probably right.”
It feels an incredibly long way between the waterfall and the trailhead and even longer from there back to Cloud's place.
Once they are inside, a black and white cat rubs against Zack's leg then hisses at him when he leans down to pet him.
“Sorry, I should have warned you about him. Are you okay with cats?”
“I'm more of a dog person, but I don't dislike cats.” Zack says.
“We found him outside the Golden Saucer amusement park last year, and Tifa's mildly allergic, and he's not good with kids or dogs, so Barrett couldn't take him so…” Cloud shrugs.
The cat sniffs Zack’s leg and then makes a high-pitched meowing sound before biting him.
Cloud scoops the cat up. “Bad boy,” he tells the cat, who is now purring and pushing the top of his head into Cloud’s face. “You're going in your room.”
“He has his own room?”
Cloud sighs, “Unfortunately. He claimed it. It's not big enough to be an official bedroom and doesn't have a closet, but it's big enough for a cat. It used to be where I stored my weights and stuff.”
He walks the cat into the hallway and gently tosses him into a room before closing the door on him.
“Aww,” Zack says, pouting.
“He bit you!” Cloud replies. “Don’t feel bad for him. He’s got water, dry food, and a litter box in there. Not to mention cat shelves that I’m definitely losing my safety deposit for installing. He’ll be fine. I’ll let him out once he calms down. He just gets overstimulated around strangers.”
“Well, okay.” Zack says.
Cloud flips a light switch, and a lamp in the living area turns on. It’s a small-ish living space. He can see through the slightly ajar door into Cloud’s bedroom, the last of the daylight reflecting off unmade sheets. The kitchen is little more than a sink, a stove, and a tiny countertop area. There are a few rugs under the furniture areas, and a desk pushed up against one of the windows next to the loveseat.
“Sorry,” Cloud says. “I know it’s kind of a shitty apartment.”
“No,” Zack says, shaking his head. “It looks cozy.”
“Right, well. I was going to shower to get the scent of bug spray out of my hair if you want to hang out or whatever, or…” Cloud trails off, turning pink.
“Or?” Zack prompts, thinking he likes the sound of or.
“You could… you know.”
“I don’t know,” Zack says, teasingly, “you have to ask me.”
Cloud runs his fingers through the back of his own hair. “You could join me, if you want.”
“I definitely want,” Zack replies.
Cloud’s bathroom is small, in line with the small apartment. There’s a black bottle of pomade, a toothbrush in a cover, and a red stick of deodorant on the vanity. Simple. The shower water is running, and Cloud sticks his hand in to check the temperature. “Still cold,” he says, frowning.
Zack pulls his shirt over his head and drops it near the corner of the bathroom before kicking off his shorts and underwear. He turns to find Cloud watching him.
“Like what you see?”
Cloud gulps but nods, not looking away from Zack even as his cheeks turn pink again. There’s something extra exciting about being able to make another man blus in their late twenties; he knows it wouldn’t be this way with just anyone. And he’s suspected for quite some time that Cloud is more than just anyone.
Cloud disrobes, and Zack has to hold himself back from ravishing him right then and there. His eyes drink in the silky skin, his arms are only slightly red from being in the sun for too long today, juxtaposed with the pale white under where his shirt had been. He notices Cloud’s length, half-hard already, and Zack’s is close if not further along in that regard.
He looks up to meet Cloud’s eye, his sharp features still flush from having Zack’s attention on him.
“Cloud,” he says, earnestly. “You are so, so pretty.”
Cloud’s eyes cut away from him. “Thanks,” he mumbles, barely audible.
Zack closes the distance between them, unable to wait for the shower to heat up, and presses his lips into the side of Cloud’s mouth, traces his lips down his jaw, his neck. He presses his teeth against Cloud’s collarbone. He very much likes the way his lips make Cloud’s breath quicken.
They step into the shower when Cloud deems the water stream sufficiently warm. It’s possibly too warm, but Zack isn’t going to be the one to complain. He lets Cloud stand under the stream and offers to wash his hair. He massages Cloud’s scalp through the suds of shampoo and running water, and tries to memorize what Cloud sounds like as he does so. He very much likes the sound, so much so that Cloud, too, can’t help but notice what it does to Zack.
Cloud turns to rinse his hair out, balancing himself by placing a hand on Zack’s chest. Zack covers Cloud’s hand with his own.
“Zack,” Cloud says, at length, “can I—”
“You can do anything you want to me,” Zack says.
Cloud scrubs him all the way down. And won’t it be something, Zack thinks, to be going home later smelling like this man who has been haunting his dreams for weeks now? Cloud gets on his knees, washing Zack’s legs thoroughly. So thoroughly that it’s agonizing how long he takes soaping up Zack’s inner thighs, before ducking to let the stream of water rinse them off. And just when Zack thinks that maybe that’s all there is to do here, that it’s really just more practical to get out of the shower before they start back where they left off in the woods, Cloud's lips are on him, parting slowly, gingerly taking his cock into those unfairly pretty lips of his.
Zack can’t look, can’t look away either; it’s all too much. He does his best to still his hips, but his resolve falters momentarily when Cloud’s finger breaches his entrance. He tries to swear, praise Cloud, and apologize, all at once. He’s not sure anything leaving his mouth is intelligible at this point.
Cloud’s mouth slides rhythmically on him. His fingers are working far too deftly. Zack is only cognizant enough of anything besides the physical feelings to wonder how someone who looks so angelic is so damn good at this.
“Cloud,” he says, pulling at Cloud’s wet hair, steadying himself with the other hand against the shower wall. “I’m—”
Cloud looks up at him, and it pulls him over the edge, releasing into Cloud’s warm mouth, gasping something between Cloud’s name and blasphemy.
He pulls Cloud up to meet him, their mouths colliding again, and tasting himself on Cloud’s tongue is so obscene and primal that something in him snaps; he feels it go, he loses all sense of how this is supposed to go. They barely know each other, but he doesn’t really care.
“Where have you been my whole life?” he asks.
“Looking for you,” Cloud answers.
Zack almost wants to laugh, but Cloud looks so solemn as he says it that it seems heavier than anything Zack can imagine it means. Yet. He pulls Cloud in for another kiss.
“Well, I’m here,” Zack says. “Take me. I’m yours.”
And Cloud does, as awkward and impractical as it is in the shower. Zack isn’t as flexible as he used to be, but it’s still enough to hike a leg up far enough, twist his spine just enough that Cloud can line himself up.
Cloud presses inside him, and Zack momentarily wonders if this is what it feels like to get struck by lightning, but if getting struck by lightning were something pleasant. Only he already knows this is far, far better.
“Holy—” Cloud is saying, “you’re so tight.”
Zack breathes through it. “I’ve never bottomed before.”
“You’ve never—” Cloud’s face looks concentrated, confused, and on the edge all at once.
Zack uses the hand (the one he can afford to without losing balance of everything keeping them upright) to bring Cloud’s forehead to his. “Only for you,” he says. He kisses Cloud carefully, exhaling deeply through his nose. “Now move.”
And Cloud does.
It’s not long before he’s over the edge again, and Cloud sounds like he’s in a state of awe and struggling with every muscle in his body to stave off his own release until Zack begs for it. And Zack does beg for it, pleads with Cloud like he’s a deity, and Cloud blesses him finally, inside him.
And then they’re panting for air, both leaning against the wall of the shower, looking at each other on opposite sides of the stream.
“I think I might be falling for you,” he says stupidly. But he doesn’t regret the way saying it makes Cloud sputter an embarrassed reaction.
#
Zack sleeps like the dead. If the dead could dream vividly.
He dreams of cutting Angeal down. Of everything inside him breaking. Of the Buster Sword.
“Embrace your dreams, and protect your honor… as SOLDIER.”
He dreams of Sephiroth and fire. Of Hojo and horrible, horrible sickness. Of cold, dark, nothing. Of breaking out of the glass.
Of Cloud. Cloud beside him, carrying Cloud on his back, dragging him everywhere. Not knowing if he would wake up. Pleading with him to wake up. Wondering whether Cloud would stick around if he did wake up. Wondering what their life might be like together, after the hunt for them eventually died down.
He dreams of the moment he felt he could see light at the end of the tunnel. Of Shinra’s helicopters. Of the Buster Sword, again. Fighting, again. The price of freedom sure is steep. Did he say that one aloud? He can’t remember.
Remember?
Fighting. Blood, so much blood. Some of it his own. A lot of it his own.
The ground. Beneath him. Wet. From blood?
Rain.
Cloud. Cloud, again. Alive. Miraculously. Awake. It was worth it after all.
The Buster Sword.
“You’ll be my living legacy.”
#
He sits up. Looks down at himself. His hands. Presses them against himself to feel his own chest underneath his palms. “I’m alive,” he says. “But I—”
Something stirs next to him, and he flinches away, moves to grab—but there’s no sword. There are no swords anywhere here. He’s never had the Buster Sword. Not in this life.
“You’re awake? What time is it?” Cloud sits up next to him, rubbing an eye sleepily.
Awake. Cloud. Cloud’s awake. This is—
He grabs Cloud’s wrists. “You’re here. You’re—you’re okay?”
Cloud blinks at him. “Last night was great, but I think I need some coffee first.”
Zack shakes his head, releases Cloud, and falls back against the pillows. Something hisses at him when he shifts, and a flash of black and white fur disappears under the bed. Last night, right. It’s coming back to him. Where he is now.
“Hey, Cloud?” he asks.
“Mmm—?” Cloud asks into another pillow somewhere.
“That dead friend of yours, the one you told me about? Was that… me?”
There’s a long pause. And then Cloud is making a sound like… crying? No. He’s definitely laughing at Zack. What a stupid thing to say. He tries to pull the covers over his head, but instead Cloud rolls right on top of him.
“Took you long enough,” Cloud says, pressing their foreheads together.
Zack has never felt this in his entire life. The stark clarity of understanding why Cloud has been haunting his dreams since they met, or even before then. Of understanding, finally, why he felt so strongly drawn to the other man. Why he’s felt they’re meant to be something to each other.
They always were.
He lifts a hand to Cloud’s face. Traces his cheekbone with his fingers.
“How could you have ever thought that—Cloud, of course, you were something to me. You were everything to me. I loved you for so long.”
Cloud exhales and rolls back to his side of the bed, but he hooks a leg around Zack’s. “Zack,” he says, “you were always a hero. You would have saved anyone in that situation and—I mean, I heard a lot of what you said to me, but I never got the chance to ask you what—if it was anything more than just stress and adrenaline making you think I mattered.”
“Cloud,” Zack says, “I loved you before all that. I never—I was waiting for the right time to tell you. Then everything got so fucked up the second we landed in Nibelheim. And then while we were on the run… I don’t know. It didn’t feel right to confess all that to you, not knowing whether you could hear me. I’d dropped enough on you as it was.”
Cloud grabs him around the middle suddenly and tight enough that Zack has to cough for air. “Don’t die on me this time.”
Zack rests his chin on top of Cloud’s head, breathing in the scent of the shampoo and conditioner from their shower the previous night. He drags his fingernails lightly along Cloud’s shoulders. Feeling him.
It’s all real.
“I can’t promise that,” he says after a long silence. “But… if you’ll have me, I’ll stick around ‘til then.”
“If I’ll—” Cloud hits his forehead into him enough to make a point. “Idiot. I told you last night I’ve been looking for you my whole life. No way am I letting you go now.”
#
Cloud isn’t the only one he feels he needs to talk to about their past lives. Sure, he’s the most important, but there are so many people he’s met.
Angeal, who he’d just seen yesterday in a weird coincidence. Kunsel. No wonder he was so eager to help Zack set up a sound system in his house less than twenty-four hours after meeting the guy, only to realize Zack remembered nothing. Tseng, whom he has about five million more questions to ask now. Cissnei, whom Zack regrets not remembering before she moved away, he’ll just have to make a point to visit her in the near future. Yuffie at the front desk of the gym, who’s always asking him to help with tasks that are not in his job description, because she knows he’ll do them anyway.
Did they all know? Was he the last one to get the memo that they’d shared a past life?
And of course—
“I got your text,” Aerith says, breezing into his apartment with Tifa in tow. “What’s so urgent? Your place isn’t on fire, and you seem to be fine. What’s up?”
Zack, for his part, can’t say anything for a moment. He nearly loses his composure again at the sight of Aerith. He hugs her tight, picks her up off the ground, and swings her in a circle.
“Watch it,” Tifa says, warning, but she’s smiling lightly, so she must not be that worried.
Zack places Aerith down gently.
“Aerith… I remember.”
She appraises him for a moment and then says. “You remember?”
“Everything. The church, your flowers, Tseng telling me you were an Ancient. I remember it all. I was—I was coming to find you with Cloud when—well, you know—” He makes a chopping motion at his own neck. “But I remember everything. Cloud. And you, Tifa, and Nibelheim. How long have you both known?”
Aerith grins at him and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Only my whole life.”
“Was it really just me?”
Tifa shakes her head. “I didn’t remember until there was a bad fire in the town Cloud and I grew up in. Some people are late bloomers with triggered memories, it seems.”
That makes Zack feel a little better. But only a little.
“What got through to you?” Aerith asks.
He shrugs, “I think it’s been right under the surface for a while—”
“Those dreams you were telling me about?” Aerith asks.
Zack nods. “Yeah. But then—” his eyes go wide. “Actually, I don’t think I should share what made it click.”
“I’m going to hazard a guess that it has something to do with the fact that you’re wearing one of Cloud’s T-shirts right now?” Tifa asks, deadpan.
He tries not to look too much like he’s been caught red-handed, but the excitement on Aerith’s face tells him he’s failed. Luckily, neither of them says anything more about that topic. And he’ll have to apologize to Cloud later for the shirt theft and the indiscretion.
Aerith changes the subject. “I get to be there when you tell Tseng. I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Zack says, “and I think I’ll just do squats in front of him until he figures it out.”
Aerith stands on tiptoe to pat the top of his head. “You really haven’t changed one bit.”