Sinful Reconcilaition
folder
Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
824
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
824
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter One
Disclaimer: These characters and this world, unfortunately, are not my own. I of course mean no disrespect in using them in this story.
A/N: Even though this is "done", I could change things, improve things, or add a lemony epilogue, pending your response. If you want something, ask for it! Also, I was trying to break normal character conventions with this one, so I hope they aren't too out of character. Enjoy! -DeconstructiveSin
Avalanche hadn’t planned to meet up again after defeating Sephiroth. It was silently decided that everyone would wait until Tifa decided it was time and told them where to be and when to be there. Two years later, Cloud found himself at the Icicle Inn sitting in a dark room while he could hear the rest of Avalanche down the hall drinking and fending off Yuffie’s hyperactive hug attacks. It’s not that they didn’t like the exuberant Ninja; it’s just that each valued their ability to breathe properly without Yuffie’s arms crushing their chest cavity. Cloud, however, felt it completely necessary to avoid the affair altogether. No sense getting attached to people only to suffer the pain of separation again. No, that wasn’t necessary at all! The darkness on both sides of the window and the cold creeping under his clothes were enough to scare away those feelings, to keep out the cheer and camaraderie that might prompt Cloud to open his heart again, if only for a fleeting moment. A moment was long enough for Aerith, and more than long enough for the pain that followed.
The warmth that had filled the room when Cloud arrived was less than a memory, and his breath ghosted steadily across the frost painted window as even the warmth from the core of his body drifted off into the abyss of the night. He finally managed to tear his eyes from the frozen landscape outside his room, longing only for a similar emptiness within the confines of his quarters. However, no such desolation awaited his gaze as his eyes focused on Vincent, standing just as still and silent as the night in the middle of Cloud’s room.
“Vincent…what are you doing here?”
When met with only silence, Cloud gave an unconcerned sigh and turned back to the window, perhaps wishing to find answers there, perhaps to find the right questions to ask. For all his searching, he came up empty handed. All too quickly, Cloud felt two heavy hands fall to rest on his shoulders.
“Cloud…I…look at me.”
“Why?”
“Please, Cloud.”
Turning, Cloud rewarded the gunman’s plea with stale blue eyes. Vincent extended a hand to the young swordsman, no question in his eyes, only a demand. Surprisingly to both men, Cloud extended his own hand to meet it, standing finally from his stagnant position, eyes locked firmly to red.
“Come.”
Again Vincent requested nothing, but Cloud knew before the order left Vincent’s lips that he would deny him nothing. Vincent led Cloud down the hall to the room housing all the drinks and commotion, releasing his grip on the smaller hand only once they reached the door.
“Vincent, I don’t want--”
Gloved fingers rushed to cover his chilled lips with a small “shush.”
“Come.”
A strong hand pushed gently on the wooden door, inviting a fiery glow into the abandoned hallway, gracing Cloud’s face with shining warmth, as the gloved hand drifted from his lips, only to entrap the silver ring protruding from the armor on Cloud’s left shoulder. Vincent used his grasp and a sharp tug to hurl Cloud through the open door and into the warm inviting room. Cloud froze for a moment, glaring at Vincent, before trudging into the room and accepting a warm drink and smile from Tifa. His thoughtful night had just become infinitely longer, much to his displeasure.
After seeing the completion of his mission, with Cloud thoroughly immersed in the joyous festivities, Vincent turned to retire to his own room, having experienced far more than enough social interaction for one night. However, his stealthy retreat was interrupted just after he closed the heavy wooden door.
“And where would we be going?”
A/N: Even though this is "done", I could change things, improve things, or add a lemony epilogue, pending your response. If you want something, ask for it! Also, I was trying to break normal character conventions with this one, so I hope they aren't too out of character. Enjoy! -DeconstructiveSin
Avalanche hadn’t planned to meet up again after defeating Sephiroth. It was silently decided that everyone would wait until Tifa decided it was time and told them where to be and when to be there. Two years later, Cloud found himself at the Icicle Inn sitting in a dark room while he could hear the rest of Avalanche down the hall drinking and fending off Yuffie’s hyperactive hug attacks. It’s not that they didn’t like the exuberant Ninja; it’s just that each valued their ability to breathe properly without Yuffie’s arms crushing their chest cavity. Cloud, however, felt it completely necessary to avoid the affair altogether. No sense getting attached to people only to suffer the pain of separation again. No, that wasn’t necessary at all! The darkness on both sides of the window and the cold creeping under his clothes were enough to scare away those feelings, to keep out the cheer and camaraderie that might prompt Cloud to open his heart again, if only for a fleeting moment. A moment was long enough for Aerith, and more than long enough for the pain that followed.
The warmth that had filled the room when Cloud arrived was less than a memory, and his breath ghosted steadily across the frost painted window as even the warmth from the core of his body drifted off into the abyss of the night. He finally managed to tear his eyes from the frozen landscape outside his room, longing only for a similar emptiness within the confines of his quarters. However, no such desolation awaited his gaze as his eyes focused on Vincent, standing just as still and silent as the night in the middle of Cloud’s room.
“Vincent…what are you doing here?”
When met with only silence, Cloud gave an unconcerned sigh and turned back to the window, perhaps wishing to find answers there, perhaps to find the right questions to ask. For all his searching, he came up empty handed. All too quickly, Cloud felt two heavy hands fall to rest on his shoulders.
“Cloud…I…look at me.”
“Why?”
“Please, Cloud.”
Turning, Cloud rewarded the gunman’s plea with stale blue eyes. Vincent extended a hand to the young swordsman, no question in his eyes, only a demand. Surprisingly to both men, Cloud extended his own hand to meet it, standing finally from his stagnant position, eyes locked firmly to red.
“Come.”
Again Vincent requested nothing, but Cloud knew before the order left Vincent’s lips that he would deny him nothing. Vincent led Cloud down the hall to the room housing all the drinks and commotion, releasing his grip on the smaller hand only once they reached the door.
“Vincent, I don’t want--”
Gloved fingers rushed to cover his chilled lips with a small “shush.”
“Come.”
A strong hand pushed gently on the wooden door, inviting a fiery glow into the abandoned hallway, gracing Cloud’s face with shining warmth, as the gloved hand drifted from his lips, only to entrap the silver ring protruding from the armor on Cloud’s left shoulder. Vincent used his grasp and a sharp tug to hurl Cloud through the open door and into the warm inviting room. Cloud froze for a moment, glaring at Vincent, before trudging into the room and accepting a warm drink and smile from Tifa. His thoughtful night had just become infinitely longer, much to his displeasure.
After seeing the completion of his mission, with Cloud thoroughly immersed in the joyous festivities, Vincent turned to retire to his own room, having experienced far more than enough social interaction for one night. However, his stealthy retreat was interrupted just after he closed the heavy wooden door.
“And where would we be going?”