All the characters belong to Square Enix. I am making no profit out of this and mean no harm. The words are mine.
Vincent opened
the door quickly, allowing Cloud to get in. He was holding Sephiroth’s
limp body, wrapped in Vincent’s cloak and eventually managed to reach
the sofa and placed him there. He showed no sign of life. He just fell
with no resistance and Cloud had to push him towards the backrest of
the furniture so he wouldn’t slide down to the floor.
The scene would have been comical were it not so tragic. Vincent closed the door and rushed to the bedroom to get the extra bedding for Sephiroth, leaving Cloud fighting with the sofa and one big body on it. He tried to be quiet, but their entrance wasn’t really soundless, and by the time he approached the wardrobe, he heard Reno shift in the bed, until he eventually sat up, somewhat groggy.
“What’s going on, yo?” he asked as he turned the light on. He could hear the noise from the main room, and he quickly got up from the bed, eyes dancing from the half open bedroom door to Vincent digging through the closet.
Finally, he managed to pull out everything he needed. It was a big mess in his hands and he could barely see Reno over the white pillow, but he still shot him the most apologetic look he could get. “I’m sorry,” he said, diverting his eyes immediately after seeing Reno’s facial features soften and eyes wash with worry.
Vincent didn’t cry, but this situation was as close as it got. He knew Reno was in the process of blinking a few times before asking for an explanation so, instead of waiting for it and eventually answering, he proceeded to the main room, hearing Reno follow.
He walked to Cloud, releasing the bedding next to Sephiroth’s body, helping Cloud with pulling the sofa some more because he knew it would sometimes get stuck on its right side. He didn’t dare looking up. Seeing the look in Reno’s eyes after the Turk finally comprehended would kill him.
Not seeing it hurt nonetheless.
“Shit! Shit, fucking shit, shit, shit!” There was a dull thud and Vincent’s eyes shot up to see Reno hitting the wall with his back, palms on his face. “Oh, fuck!” he continued verbally as he hit the back of his head to the wall. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He finally removed the palms from his face and the look in his eyes indeed burned. “No…” he said, shaking his head. “No, Vincent, tell me you didn’t! No, no, no…”
Vincent just closed his eyes and said nothing. He took a moment to take a deep breath, then he looked at Cloud, who was staring back at him, not knowing what to do. “I’ll call you in the morning,” he said and it seemed as though a weight fell off Cloud’s shoulders. He just nodded and proceeded to the door, as quickly and quietly as he could.
Then Vincent finally looked at Reno again. It hurt. It fucking hurt, seeing the betrayal written all over that face. “I’m sorry,” he mimicked with his lips, but knew damn well it wouldn’t help. Not this time.
“Fuck, Vincent!” Reno yelled at him, then walked back to the bedroom, furiously hitting the door shut.
Vincent looked at Sephiroth. He still needed to be settled. The bedding needed to be made, he needed to be checked up for injuries and at least warmed up well. Besides slow breathing, he didn’t show any sign of life. He looked at him and, even though his heart was breaking, left him and hurried after Reno.
He didn’t have to enter the bedroom, as its door opened just before him; if it were not for his fast reflexes, it would have hit him in the head. Reno rushed out through it, fully dressed, a lit cigarette in his mouth (even though Vincent had begged him not to smoke in the apartment because it made him sick). He shot Vincent a look of utter hate, then walked through the apartment door, shutting it behind him without a word.
He was feeling sick, but cigarettes didn’t have much to do with it.
He knew there was no sense in going after Reno. He needed his peace and quiet now, as he’d needed it every time they’d fought. And Sephiroth needed him too.
Sephiroth.
Before this, he didn’t really comprehend that word. He didn’t really understand it was Sephiroth. Until this moment, it just hadn’t sunk in. Sephiroth was alive! Sephiroth! The man he had mourned from the first moment they met.
He was as beautiful as his mother, but far, far more. There was power in him that was beyond description, beyond his own senses that were above anything humans so far invented. And he could still feel it, completely the same as that time, as so long ago.
And here he was, the most perfect man he had ever met, in his living room, on his sofa, sleeping and gaining strength and Vincent finally decided to make the bed as comfortable as possible for him.
He had told Reno about it. That was perhaps the only reason he had reacted the way he had. True, having the man who just a year ago tried to crash a meteor into their planet in his living room wasn’t exactly something Reno would digest lightly, but Vincent had told him, loud and clear, he still loved Sephiroth equally if not more than Reno, only Sephiroth was dead and it didn’t matter.
He had been dead and it had not mattered. It was not like that anymore. Vincent found himself sitting at the edge of the sofa, gently moving the almost dried shorter strands of silver hair away from the forehead they kept falling onto.
There was something on his face, something he hadn’t seen before. And it looked too much like peace, like contentment, happiness even. He slept and nothing was on his mind. He looked the way he was supposed to look had this world been just. No such luck, though.
And what Vincent hated the most was the fact that, just looking at Sephiroth, those familiar features that burned in his eyes even though it had taken them less than an hour to absorb, he worried about Reno less and less.
He hated himself for it, though. It seemed as though that year meant nothing now, not after finally finding what could easily be called the other half of his soul. Even though he hadn’t said a word so far, Vincent felt upset knowing he had probably even made a decision, perhaps ruining a year’s worth of feelings and trust.
He felt so fucking cheap.
But then those silver eyelashes moved ever so slightly and Sephiroth drew a deeper breath and shifted just a bit. Vincent froze, not daring to breathe or blink, his pupils still, zoomed on that delicate face, waiting for the inevitable.
At last, one of the eyes slowly opened, silver lashes and pale skin revealing the green from underneath. He blinked a few times, getting used to the dim light of the living room after who knows how long of keeping them closed. Then the narrowed pupil travelled around, until it landed on Vincent.
It took him a moment to shift, turn his head, so both eyes could look, confusion and perhaps even fear passing through his face. Then he smiled. “You came?” he whispered and Vincent noticed he tried to move his hand, but he was still too weak. He quickly closed his eyes again, sighing deeply, but the smile didn’t leave his lips.
Vincent waited for a minute, thinking Sephiroth just needed a moment to continue. But then he became still again, breathing getting shallower. Vincent thought perhaps he fell asleep, but then the eyes opened again, slowly, pupils wide and it took them a while to narrow. It was obvious Sephiroth was in pain until that happened. The room was definitely too lit for his senses, for those eyes.
“What do you mean?” Vincent whispered, not being able to stop his hand that gently cupped the face he thought he’d never touch again. He almost cried out as he felt Sephiroth leaning into the touch.
“Where am I?” he tried to ask aloud but his throat was too weak so a few sounds came out as hisses, but the rest was a whisper.
“In my living room,” Vincent answered, a chuckle almost escaping his lips. It seemed so absurd. Over a year ago, he had been pulled out of a coffin in the basement of a house infested by monsters in a town this man had burned to ashes and those who had created him had rebuilt it. Now, he shared a small apartment and even owned a microwave.
Life was definitely full of surprises.
Sephiroth tensed, his eyebrows shooting up, even though it was obvious that was about as much strength as he had, even though he fought his limits as he pushed his body onto his elbows so he could finally look around himself. He circled the room, but his eyes eventually landed on Vincent, and Vincent knew some things finally started sinking in. Sephiroth fell back to the mattress again, limp, breathing heavily, and Vincent decided he could at least kiss that forehead as Sephiroth took his time, absorbing it all.
“How long?” he simply asked after a long pause, then cleared his throat, which again sounded like a hiss. His throat was still not working.
Vincent tensed. “Over a year.”
Sephiroth blinked. It was a long process, the lids slowly going down the green eyes, then up again after a pause. “You… waited for me… over a year?” he asked, definitely surprised.
Vincent felt as though someone walked over his grave. Pure horror passed down his spine and shivers over his skin. He needed a moment to recuperate, eyes and mouth open wide. “What is the last thing you remember?” he asked, not able to blink, frozen.
Another long pause followed, where Sephiroth closed his eyes and exhaled through his mouth, trying to clear his throat, though again it was definitely unsuccessful. By now, it already seemed futile, but if there was one thing Sephiroth was, it was stubborn. He remained still, though, for a long while, trying to gather enough strength just to make his mind work.
Vincent waited patiently, as though frozen in time as those green eyes finally opened and stilled on him. Sephiroth smiled. It was a small thing, but it was there. “You.”
It was hard to stop the tears, but Vincent didn’t cry. It was as simple as that. After a moment, he realized how pathetic the entire scene must have looked like, but this was his life and he couldn’t give a fuck.
---
“I didn’t know where else to go, partner,” Reno said as Rude opened the door of his apartment. He blinked a few times, still half asleep, then moved aside and nodded for Reno to come in.
Reno could see that Rude was definitely in the mood to kick his ass, or at least break a limb or two for waking him up in the middle of the night on a week day, but he kept it (probably for later) after seeing the way Reno looked.
“Not that I don’t love having you around,” Rude started cynically, “but what brings you here?”
“Long story,” Reno answered and sighed as he fluidly landed on the nearest chair.
Rude sighed as well and rolled his eyes, then slowly, still hazily, walked to the next available chair and pulled it back first towards Reno and seated himself that way. “And you’re not the talkative type, huh?”
Reno gave him the look Rude had never seen on that face – something between pain and desperation. It was so off for his face that Rude immediately woke up fully, his attention on his partner.
He took his time, staring blankly ahead, into nothing specific really, not even blinking. Then his cheeks turned crimson and he swallowed hard. He managed to produce a small choking sound, then quickly hid his face behind his palms, but it was obvious to anyone he was crying and, considering the fact that Rude had never seen his partner even close to tears, all he could do was stare helplessly at him, for one of the rare times in his life wondering what the hell men did in situations like this.
Not like football talk would help, and well endowed chicks were nowhere around.
Reno cried a while, his shoulders shaking with every sob forced to be silenced. He refused to stop hiding his face because, if nothing, the scene was as embarrassing as they got.
Why the fuck did he have to go to Rude’s? He could’ve chosen the nearest bar, gotten piss drunk and beaten the shit out of the biggest asshole there, then fell asleep in the nearest alley.
Like this, it was… as though he was getting soft and that was one thing a Turk could never get.
Getting somewhat impatient after a while, Rude finally decided to act. “Reno?” he said, moving his hand to his partner’s shoulder. He hesitated for a moment, double thinking the prospect of actually having to touch Reno, then at last, he squeezed his shoulder.
Reno tensed instantly, straightening his back. He wiped his eyes with his sleeves, then at last looked at Rude. “I’m starving, partner,” he said, forcing a smile to his swollen lips.
That… was better. That was the territory Rude was familiar with. He snorted and got up from his chair and moved to the kitchen. “Anything specific?”
“Got any beer?” Reno asked, that lazy slur so typical for his voice back.
Rude snorted again, then turned around to face Reno. “Beer is not food.”
“‘F course it is,” Reno answered. “You’ve got carbs and fats and that third shit. And alcohol.”
Shaking his head, Rude went to grab a pair of beers from the fridge. While he was at it, he spotted a small glass jar with tomatoes in the back.
He couldn’t stand tomatoes in any type or form, but Reno ate these like candies. He’d always had at least one jar somewhere in the fridge for the times Reno would come over. He hadn’t visited him that often lately, though, but some habits were hard to kill.
He grabbed that as well, just after hearing the sounds emanating from his bedroom, from the TV set.
As suspected, Reno had moved to Rude’s bed, remote control in his hand, flipping channels. Well, that was good – familiar territory again.
Reno grinned at him as he handed him the bottle and his face definitely glowed as he received the jar. “You’ll spoil me!”
“It’s from the last time you were here,” Rude commented, comfortable on his bed, eyes on the TV. “Since you started fucking the undead, you never come over.”
Well… that was a mistake. Rude noticed how Reno fought with swallowing the beer, but he was no fool. He was good in hiding emotions. Well, most of the times. Eventually, he managed to shrug it off and stick his fingers into the jar.
“If you leave a mess, Reno, I swear…”
“Oh, shut up!” Reno interrupted him, licking the spiced oil off his fingers. “Since when do you give a shit for some oil on the sheets?”
Rude just snorted and gulped his beer. He had a good response about that but, suspecting this entire thing somehow revolved around Vincent, he decided it was better to swallow it this time. “Elena tells me ice-cream helps,” he said instead.
Reno just snorted and kept his eyes on the TV. “Got any?” he asked a few minutes later.
“No,” Rude answered, shrugging, eyes on the TV as well. “Know a store that works all night, though.”
For a few more moments, Reno kept quiet, then he shook his head. “Nah. Look at the size of that balcony!” he added and Rude laughed.
Familiar territory.
The scene would have been comical were it not so tragic. Vincent closed the door and rushed to the bedroom to get the extra bedding for Sephiroth, leaving Cloud fighting with the sofa and one big body on it. He tried to be quiet, but their entrance wasn’t really soundless, and by the time he approached the wardrobe, he heard Reno shift in the bed, until he eventually sat up, somewhat groggy.
“What’s going on, yo?” he asked as he turned the light on. He could hear the noise from the main room, and he quickly got up from the bed, eyes dancing from the half open bedroom door to Vincent digging through the closet.
Finally, he managed to pull out everything he needed. It was a big mess in his hands and he could barely see Reno over the white pillow, but he still shot him the most apologetic look he could get. “I’m sorry,” he said, diverting his eyes immediately after seeing Reno’s facial features soften and eyes wash with worry.
Vincent didn’t cry, but this situation was as close as it got. He knew Reno was in the process of blinking a few times before asking for an explanation so, instead of waiting for it and eventually answering, he proceeded to the main room, hearing Reno follow.
He walked to Cloud, releasing the bedding next to Sephiroth’s body, helping Cloud with pulling the sofa some more because he knew it would sometimes get stuck on its right side. He didn’t dare looking up. Seeing the look in Reno’s eyes after the Turk finally comprehended would kill him.
Not seeing it hurt nonetheless.
“Shit! Shit, fucking shit, shit, shit!” There was a dull thud and Vincent’s eyes shot up to see Reno hitting the wall with his back, palms on his face. “Oh, fuck!” he continued verbally as he hit the back of his head to the wall. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He finally removed the palms from his face and the look in his eyes indeed burned. “No…” he said, shaking his head. “No, Vincent, tell me you didn’t! No, no, no…”
Vincent just closed his eyes and said nothing. He took a moment to take a deep breath, then he looked at Cloud, who was staring back at him, not knowing what to do. “I’ll call you in the morning,” he said and it seemed as though a weight fell off Cloud’s shoulders. He just nodded and proceeded to the door, as quickly and quietly as he could.
Then Vincent finally looked at Reno again. It hurt. It fucking hurt, seeing the betrayal written all over that face. “I’m sorry,” he mimicked with his lips, but knew damn well it wouldn’t help. Not this time.
“Fuck, Vincent!” Reno yelled at him, then walked back to the bedroom, furiously hitting the door shut.
Vincent looked at Sephiroth. He still needed to be settled. The bedding needed to be made, he needed to be checked up for injuries and at least warmed up well. Besides slow breathing, he didn’t show any sign of life. He looked at him and, even though his heart was breaking, left him and hurried after Reno.
He didn’t have to enter the bedroom, as its door opened just before him; if it were not for his fast reflexes, it would have hit him in the head. Reno rushed out through it, fully dressed, a lit cigarette in his mouth (even though Vincent had begged him not to smoke in the apartment because it made him sick). He shot Vincent a look of utter hate, then walked through the apartment door, shutting it behind him without a word.
He was feeling sick, but cigarettes didn’t have much to do with it.
He knew there was no sense in going after Reno. He needed his peace and quiet now, as he’d needed it every time they’d fought. And Sephiroth needed him too.
Sephiroth.
Before this, he didn’t really comprehend that word. He didn’t really understand it was Sephiroth. Until this moment, it just hadn’t sunk in. Sephiroth was alive! Sephiroth! The man he had mourned from the first moment they met.
He was as beautiful as his mother, but far, far more. There was power in him that was beyond description, beyond his own senses that were above anything humans so far invented. And he could still feel it, completely the same as that time, as so long ago.
And here he was, the most perfect man he had ever met, in his living room, on his sofa, sleeping and gaining strength and Vincent finally decided to make the bed as comfortable as possible for him.
He had told Reno about it. That was perhaps the only reason he had reacted the way he had. True, having the man who just a year ago tried to crash a meteor into their planet in his living room wasn’t exactly something Reno would digest lightly, but Vincent had told him, loud and clear, he still loved Sephiroth equally if not more than Reno, only Sephiroth was dead and it didn’t matter.
He had been dead and it had not mattered. It was not like that anymore. Vincent found himself sitting at the edge of the sofa, gently moving the almost dried shorter strands of silver hair away from the forehead they kept falling onto.
There was something on his face, something he hadn’t seen before. And it looked too much like peace, like contentment, happiness even. He slept and nothing was on his mind. He looked the way he was supposed to look had this world been just. No such luck, though.
And what Vincent hated the most was the fact that, just looking at Sephiroth, those familiar features that burned in his eyes even though it had taken them less than an hour to absorb, he worried about Reno less and less.
He hated himself for it, though. It seemed as though that year meant nothing now, not after finally finding what could easily be called the other half of his soul. Even though he hadn’t said a word so far, Vincent felt upset knowing he had probably even made a decision, perhaps ruining a year’s worth of feelings and trust.
He felt so fucking cheap.
But then those silver eyelashes moved ever so slightly and Sephiroth drew a deeper breath and shifted just a bit. Vincent froze, not daring to breathe or blink, his pupils still, zoomed on that delicate face, waiting for the inevitable.
At last, one of the eyes slowly opened, silver lashes and pale skin revealing the green from underneath. He blinked a few times, getting used to the dim light of the living room after who knows how long of keeping them closed. Then the narrowed pupil travelled around, until it landed on Vincent.
It took him a moment to shift, turn his head, so both eyes could look, confusion and perhaps even fear passing through his face. Then he smiled. “You came?” he whispered and Vincent noticed he tried to move his hand, but he was still too weak. He quickly closed his eyes again, sighing deeply, but the smile didn’t leave his lips.
Vincent waited for a minute, thinking Sephiroth just needed a moment to continue. But then he became still again, breathing getting shallower. Vincent thought perhaps he fell asleep, but then the eyes opened again, slowly, pupils wide and it took them a while to narrow. It was obvious Sephiroth was in pain until that happened. The room was definitely too lit for his senses, for those eyes.
“What do you mean?” Vincent whispered, not being able to stop his hand that gently cupped the face he thought he’d never touch again. He almost cried out as he felt Sephiroth leaning into the touch.
“Where am I?” he tried to ask aloud but his throat was too weak so a few sounds came out as hisses, but the rest was a whisper.
“In my living room,” Vincent answered, a chuckle almost escaping his lips. It seemed so absurd. Over a year ago, he had been pulled out of a coffin in the basement of a house infested by monsters in a town this man had burned to ashes and those who had created him had rebuilt it. Now, he shared a small apartment and even owned a microwave.
Life was definitely full of surprises.
Sephiroth tensed, his eyebrows shooting up, even though it was obvious that was about as much strength as he had, even though he fought his limits as he pushed his body onto his elbows so he could finally look around himself. He circled the room, but his eyes eventually landed on Vincent, and Vincent knew some things finally started sinking in. Sephiroth fell back to the mattress again, limp, breathing heavily, and Vincent decided he could at least kiss that forehead as Sephiroth took his time, absorbing it all.
“How long?” he simply asked after a long pause, then cleared his throat, which again sounded like a hiss. His throat was still not working.
Vincent tensed. “Over a year.”
Sephiroth blinked. It was a long process, the lids slowly going down the green eyes, then up again after a pause. “You… waited for me… over a year?” he asked, definitely surprised.
Vincent felt as though someone walked over his grave. Pure horror passed down his spine and shivers over his skin. He needed a moment to recuperate, eyes and mouth open wide. “What is the last thing you remember?” he asked, not able to blink, frozen.
Another long pause followed, where Sephiroth closed his eyes and exhaled through his mouth, trying to clear his throat, though again it was definitely unsuccessful. By now, it already seemed futile, but if there was one thing Sephiroth was, it was stubborn. He remained still, though, for a long while, trying to gather enough strength just to make his mind work.
Vincent waited patiently, as though frozen in time as those green eyes finally opened and stilled on him. Sephiroth smiled. It was a small thing, but it was there. “You.”
It was hard to stop the tears, but Vincent didn’t cry. It was as simple as that. After a moment, he realized how pathetic the entire scene must have looked like, but this was his life and he couldn’t give a fuck.
---
“I didn’t know where else to go, partner,” Reno said as Rude opened the door of his apartment. He blinked a few times, still half asleep, then moved aside and nodded for Reno to come in.
Reno could see that Rude was definitely in the mood to kick his ass, or at least break a limb or two for waking him up in the middle of the night on a week day, but he kept it (probably for later) after seeing the way Reno looked.
“Not that I don’t love having you around,” Rude started cynically, “but what brings you here?”
“Long story,” Reno answered and sighed as he fluidly landed on the nearest chair.
Rude sighed as well and rolled his eyes, then slowly, still hazily, walked to the next available chair and pulled it back first towards Reno and seated himself that way. “And you’re not the talkative type, huh?”
Reno gave him the look Rude had never seen on that face – something between pain and desperation. It was so off for his face that Rude immediately woke up fully, his attention on his partner.
He took his time, staring blankly ahead, into nothing specific really, not even blinking. Then his cheeks turned crimson and he swallowed hard. He managed to produce a small choking sound, then quickly hid his face behind his palms, but it was obvious to anyone he was crying and, considering the fact that Rude had never seen his partner even close to tears, all he could do was stare helplessly at him, for one of the rare times in his life wondering what the hell men did in situations like this.
Not like football talk would help, and well endowed chicks were nowhere around.
Reno cried a while, his shoulders shaking with every sob forced to be silenced. He refused to stop hiding his face because, if nothing, the scene was as embarrassing as they got.
Why the fuck did he have to go to Rude’s? He could’ve chosen the nearest bar, gotten piss drunk and beaten the shit out of the biggest asshole there, then fell asleep in the nearest alley.
Like this, it was… as though he was getting soft and that was one thing a Turk could never get.
Getting somewhat impatient after a while, Rude finally decided to act. “Reno?” he said, moving his hand to his partner’s shoulder. He hesitated for a moment, double thinking the prospect of actually having to touch Reno, then at last, he squeezed his shoulder.
Reno tensed instantly, straightening his back. He wiped his eyes with his sleeves, then at last looked at Rude. “I’m starving, partner,” he said, forcing a smile to his swollen lips.
That… was better. That was the territory Rude was familiar with. He snorted and got up from his chair and moved to the kitchen. “Anything specific?”
“Got any beer?” Reno asked, that lazy slur so typical for his voice back.
Rude snorted again, then turned around to face Reno. “Beer is not food.”
“‘F course it is,” Reno answered. “You’ve got carbs and fats and that third shit. And alcohol.”
Shaking his head, Rude went to grab a pair of beers from the fridge. While he was at it, he spotted a small glass jar with tomatoes in the back.
He couldn’t stand tomatoes in any type or form, but Reno ate these like candies. He’d always had at least one jar somewhere in the fridge for the times Reno would come over. He hadn’t visited him that often lately, though, but some habits were hard to kill.
He grabbed that as well, just after hearing the sounds emanating from his bedroom, from the TV set.
As suspected, Reno had moved to Rude’s bed, remote control in his hand, flipping channels. Well, that was good – familiar territory again.
Reno grinned at him as he handed him the bottle and his face definitely glowed as he received the jar. “You’ll spoil me!”
“It’s from the last time you were here,” Rude commented, comfortable on his bed, eyes on the TV. “Since you started fucking the undead, you never come over.”
Well… that was a mistake. Rude noticed how Reno fought with swallowing the beer, but he was no fool. He was good in hiding emotions. Well, most of the times. Eventually, he managed to shrug it off and stick his fingers into the jar.
“If you leave a mess, Reno, I swear…”
“Oh, shut up!” Reno interrupted him, licking the spiced oil off his fingers. “Since when do you give a shit for some oil on the sheets?”
Rude just snorted and gulped his beer. He had a good response about that but, suspecting this entire thing somehow revolved around Vincent, he decided it was better to swallow it this time. “Elena tells me ice-cream helps,” he said instead.
Reno just snorted and kept his eyes on the TV. “Got any?” he asked a few minutes later.
“No,” Rude answered, shrugging, eyes on the TV as well. “Know a store that works all night, though.”
For a few more moments, Reno kept quiet, then he shook his head. “Nah. Look at the size of that balcony!” he added and Rude laughed.
Familiar territory.