FF7 fic

Feb. 18th, 2005 12:24 am
swordage: Tight shot of Zack from FF7 (x zach)
[personal profile] swordage
Most of my FF7 fics are really too personal to post; they're rather a chronicle of my growth as a writer. This, however, is too good not to share. Please note that it's post-game, heedless of anything Advent Children may imply; this is not eye-candy. It is schmoop. XD This is my original fandom, and I do love it so. Hope you enjoy.

Title: Walking in the Air
Series: Final Fantasy VII
Rating: PG
Ramifications: Post-game hypothetical, with a great many coincidences left unexplained.
Summary: They've made a family while they weren't looking, as is evidenced by a stormy evening.

The rain is less like rain and more like the ocean upended over the earth. It hurts to stand in it, the water is so fierce and thick; it’s impossible to see very far, vision blurred as if the water could wash away their sight. The sound of it is deafening, and the steady boom of thunder is hardly startling over that backdrop.

Cloud and Zax are warm and drying off by the fire, chuckling like schoolboys over the mad dash inside, although neither mentions the way Zax’s face twists in pain when he moves the wrong way, or how he favors one leg. Neither look at the pocked scars that dot his chest when he takes off his shirt to dry it.

“Boys,” Tifa sighs when she sees them dripping on her nice clean floors, and Cloud grins sheepishly at her. She ruffles his hair as she passes to fetch them towels, and he yelps his objection. Zax laughs at them both.

“Hey, missus,” Zax calls loudly after her, “Have you seen that jerkoff today?”

“Yeah,” she replies in a normal tone as she tosses a towel at his face, “He went off to check on the neighbors this morning. Said he didn’t mind a little rain, although we could tell by the clouds it’d be a bad one. Didn’t want old MacGregor to drown or something.”

“Idiot,” Zax grunts in acknowledgement, rolling his eyes. “He just wanted to try out your new bird, Cloud.”

“He took Richter?” Cloud is honestly distressed, and Tifa groans.

“I swear, Cloud, if you even think about going out there just to get that brain-damaged bird out of the weather, I will put your lazy ass on the step,” she informs him, and Zax tries not to laugh at the kicked-puppy expression on Cloud’s face.

“But Richter’s never been out on the plains! What if they run into trouble? He’s not battle-trained, he’ll run off and leave him to walk home -”

Cloud cuts himself off, tilting his head a little. Tifa strains to listen, but can only hear the drone of the downpour and the growl of thunder. A curious look to Zax reveals the same expression of concentrated listening, and she sighs in exasperation.

“Stop that, you two!” she scolds with her hands on her hips, and they both jerk guiltily. “He’ll be pissed if I tell him you’re trying to listen in on him again. Remember when he had that talk with Vincent and you two heard more than you really wanted to?”

“Yeah,” Cloud mutters, shifting closer to the fire, “But we’re just making sure he got home alright.”

“On your heads be it,” she proclaims, and with that she goes back to the kitchen and the bubbling stew. Zax watches her leave and nudges Cloud meaningfully.

“Stop eyeing my girl,” Cloud hisses, and Zax laughs outright. They get into a bit of a tussle, both pulling their punches, and Tifa yells something obscene and angry at them. They end with Cloud in a headlock and Zax with a foot in his stomach and declare it a draw.

“He hasn’t come in yet,” Cloud notes, turning their drying clothes so that the fire doesn’t leave them half-scorched and half-soaked.

“I’ll go,” Zax offers, already standing with a grunt and a stretch. He waves down Cloud’s offer before it even comes out. “Nah, you stay here and feel up your girl. Promise I won’t mention it to Yuffie, even if she tempts me with the best gossip this side of Midgar.” He grins and escapes out of tackle range, amused by Cloud’s embarrassed grumble.

He pauses and takes a deep breath before opening the front door into the storm, wincing at the solid sheet of water coming off the roof right in front of him. He bravely steps out anyhow, shuddering at the biting chill of it.

Once he blinks the water out of his eyes and pushes his hair out of his face, he can see perhaps three feet before it’s all blurred beyond recognition. He sighs, trying not to inhale too much rainwater, and begins slogging towards the barn. He really hates the plains’ weather sometimes, going from scorching heat in the morning to oceanic downpour at night. If it is night; with this kind of storm, it could be midday and it would be pitch dark outside.

He nearly gets lost between the two buildings, unable to see far enough to orient himself, but then there’s a light-colored smudge not too far ahead and he aims for that. The barn begins to take shape beyond that smudge, and he sighs in exasperation. He really wished the man had sense enough to get in out of the rain without having to be fetched.

The pale smudge turns out to be Sephiroth, the very man he’s looking for, face turned towards the vicious sky, hair plastered flat in grey ropes down his back. His eyes are shut, lips parted, and Zax can see his throat work as he swallows the rain. He pauses, feeling something inside himself warm at the way Sephiroth’s shoulders are eased back, the way his hands are open and relaxed. A sheet of particularly hard rain rolls between them, and when it passes, Sephiroth is looking at him with an easy smile. Zax moves to stand beside him.

“I could always tell who was calling,” he says softly, half-hoping the rain would swallow his words. “She always wanted something, was ordering something. You simply said, ‘Come rejoice in this feeling.’”

Sephiroth doesn’t answer, but after a moment he rests a hand on Zax’s shoulder before brushing past him, heading unerringly to the cozy little house. Zax catches his hand before he can think better of it, grinning in response to the questioning lift of an elegant eyebrow.

“Come on!” He yells over the thunder, “Dance with me!”

Sephiroth laughs then, and somehow they end up spinning each other in circles like children. He regrets it immensely when he’s the first to lose his grip and tumble backwards into the mud. Tifa is gonna kill him if he tracks that in. It’s worth it, though, because Sephiroth looks at the moue of his face and practically goes into hysterics.

They trudge to the front steps, and Zax washes off as best he can in the runoff from the roof. He jokes that he should just strip off his muddy clothes and see how long it takes before either Tifa notices or Cloud kills him, and Sephiroth shakes his head with a fond smile. When they go inside, Tifa and Cloud are arguing over who has to go out in the rain to make sure they haven’t drowned themselves. Zax smoothly interjects himself between them, an arm around each waist, and gets twice the slaps for his efforts. Sephiroth watches with amusement, and he doesn’t object when Cloud invites him into the warm kitchen with a raised eyebrow.

It feels like home.

(no subject)

Date: 2005-02-19 06:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] geomaximus.livejournal.com
How... strange.

(no subject)

Date: 2005-12-23 06:55 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] owleyes-arisen.livejournal.com
Lovely. This is just so - pretty.


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