ffvii | a brief history of filial affection
Final Fantasy: Advent Children | Cloud/Denzel | 2400 words | unbeta'd. Originally posted 07/07.
Warning: deals with issues of age and filial relations. Check tags for other details. Dedicated to blizzardseason, who needed some lovin'. And not a word about Pavlov, y'all.
A brief history of filial affection
1. Denzel likes to suck cock.
Not many people know this, or rather, not many people remember him at 16 years old, an intrepid explorer to the world of Edge's gay nightlife. He'd been an avid peruser of dance clubs, and received an extensive education in anything two men and a given assortment of tools could get up to. But one girly brunette is quite like another, when viewed from above, and nobody associated Denzel The Club Slut with current-day Denzel, who now sported a much firmer chin and red highlights in his hair.
Nobody but Cloud, that is.
There was a thunk sound from Denzel's bedroom. It was the sound of Cloud's head colliding with the wooden door, somewhat painfully.
"Gauaahh," he said, intelligently.
Denzel licked at his foreskin, pressed his tongue against the slit. He was on his knees, wearing pajama boxers and a wicked smile, breathing in the scent of Cloud's crotch, all of which really shouldn't have been as arousing as it actually was.
"Nice," he whispered, then dipped his head to mouth at Cloud's balls, rub his face in the musk and sweat and pre-come. Denzel had always had beautiful, unflawed skin, and perhaps this was why.
"Denzel-" Cloud's voice sounded hesitant, as though he was unsure whether the name was supposed to sound angry or pleading. His breath hitched as something warm ghosted over the length of his cock - a breath, a kiss, a tiny lick - and then multiplied a thousandfold, blossoming into heat and suction, Denzel's cheeks hollowing as he took Cloud deep in his mouth.
Cloud's head thudded against the door again. He tended to speak exclusively in vowels at this point.
His boy - and gods, just how wrong was that? - really was a prime cocksucker. Denzel was a real-life porn star: opening his throat, moaning loudly, back curving as he pressed against Cloud's leg. He was sweet and lithe, with a mouth pink and round as a girl's, practically made for giving blowjobs. Cloud squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think about the Life Stream.
(Of course, all that had resulted in was an extremely inappropriate Pavlovian reaction to Midgarian metaphysics. Cloud was a horrible father. But oh, Denzel's mouth-)
He came with a hoarse moan, fist banging against the door, Denzel's fingers tight on his thigh. After a few minutes, he looked down, and was rewarded with a smug smile.
"Your bangs are wet." Cloud said, having not quite recovered his higher brain functions yet.
"I know." Denzel replied, pulling at the band of his boxers to keep the wet spot from touching his skin. "They're dipped in your bodily fluids."
Cloud looked vaguely horrified, and Denzel grinned.
"You are so easy." he said. "Tell Tifa I'll be down to say goodnight; I'm going to shower."
It was a nice little daily ritual.
2. The daddy issues were unbearable.
The morning after the whole Sephiroth affair, Cloud woke up to the smell of pancakes, maple syrup, and a whole tray of breakfast right in his face.
Denzel stood in a corner, haloed by sunlight like the stone telamones which adorned the walls of Edge's manifold churches. He met Cloud's gaze with reluctance, hair falling into his eyes, newly-cured hands clasped behind his back.
"Good morning," said Cloud, quite at a loss for words. Tifa was, predictably, nowhere to be seen. It was either talk or go back to sleep.
"Morning." Denzel said quietly, a blush coloring his cheeks. His eyes darted from Cloud to the tray in his lap, piled high as it was with foodstuffs. "I made you breakfast."
"Er. Thank you." said Cloud, not quite sure what was the correct response in such a situation. In order to stave off conversation, he speared a syrup-drenched morsel, took a bite, swallowed. "It's very good," he offered, and smiled.
Denzel flushed red to the roots of his hair, bobbing his head quickly. He muttered "thank you" and scuttled out of the room, a disheveled lump of embarrassment.
Cloud stared after him, then shrugged and began eating. It really was very good.
3. When we said unbearable, we weren't kidding.
"No!" Cloud shouted, feeling the blood drain from his face. "No! Absolutely not!"
Denzel pouted. "You could have told me that before I covered myself in syrup, you know."
"I am not seeing this!" Cloud covered his eyes, and wished, not for the first time, he had some really strong acid handy. Or home-brewed rust remover. Either would render him permanently blind. "This is beyond sick, Denzel."
"Oh, come on." Denzel's voice was slightly irritated, and closer now, too. "No need to be like that. What happened to brave, adventurous, kinky Cloud?"
"He just died." Cloud proclaimed, then jumped as he felt a hand on his belt. "No! Get off. I'm not touching you like this."
"Fuck you." said Denzel cheerfully, stepping in and unzipping Cloud's pants. "You want this and you know it."
"I-" Cloud said, and got no further before Denzel kissed him, sweet and sticky, maple layering his mouth. He tried for a muffled "No, seriously-" but Denzel curled their tongues together, syrup melting on his lips, and Cloud promptly shut up.
"This is so wrong," he groaned as he was pushed onto the bed, naked and smeared all over. Denzel had somehow managed to target his nipples, and Cloud looked down to see his chest glisten under what was probably enough maple to feed a small kingdom. "You made me pancakes," he said, "every day. For five years. This is so wrong."
"Shut up." Denzel climbed on top of him, then leaned down to lick a long, wet stripe across his abdomen. "And try preaching without the raging hard-on, next time. You lack conviction."
"Nngh," said Cloud, then pulled Denzel up and kissed him, hard, noses mashing together and fingers snagging in hair. Denzel made a faint sound of surprise,then grinned into the kiss and pressed closer. His ass, dripping syrup, was rubbing against Cloud and slowly driving him insane.
As it turned out, you could lubricate anything with enough maple. And later, when Cloud had Denzel face-down against the pillows, moaning and thrashing and mumbling "Gods, I love your tongue", the combination of tastes was absolutely dizzying. Cloud licked Denzel clean inside and out, thorough and sandy-rough like a lioness, burying his face in the scent of maple and semen and Denzel's body, sweet like nothing else.
Of course, the sheets were irreparably ruined.
And so, in Cloud's mind, were pancakes.
4. Denzel learned from the best.
"Okay," said Cloud, stroking Denzel's hair. "That was good. Better than last time. Now let me try."
"You?" Denzel looked doubtful, lying back on the bed. "What do you know about giving hea - nngh."
"Mmm," Cloud agreed, easily pinning Denzel down on the mattress. He exhaled through his nose, then swallowed around the cock in his mouth. Denzel bucked in a very gratifying manner. Cloud tried not to grin.
"I, I never knew," Denzel was babbling, trying to sit up so he could stare at Cloud, and continuously being pushed down on his back. "You never - where did you - how - ahhh what the holy fuck Cloud-"
"Shut up for one minute, gods," Cloud said, then went back to hollowing his cheeks. Denzel thrashed about in a vaguely desperate manner, upsetting the flower vase and knocking down the alarm clock. Cloud rolled his eyes.
Afterwards, Denzel was panting like a racehorse, and Cloud looked extremely smug. The flower vase was broken, but nobody really cared.
"Who in the - taught you - wow." Denzel managed, staring at Cloud like he was the Life Stream messiah. Which he sort of was, actually. "Are you going to teach me to do that?"
"If you want." Cloud shrugged, modest and unassuming. The faint blush staining his cheeks gave him away, though. "I had a long time to learn, though. It takes practice."
"Oh, don't worry." Denzel leaned in and kissed him, eyes twinkling. "I'll be the best student you've ever had."
5. All men are dogs.
"So basically," Tifa said fervently, "the important thing to remember is that all men are dogs."
"Got it." Denzel nodded. "Can I have my condom money now?"
"Don't make out in any bathrooms, you little hussy." Tifa tossed the bills on the table, and moved to rise. Denzel blew her a kiss, scooped up the cash, and flounced out the door.
"What do you think?" she said, gazing after him. "Did we raise him good enough?"
"We did the best we could." Cloud said, stepping into the room. "He's a good kid, he'll manage."
"I hope so." Tifa leaned into Cloud's embrace, closing her eyes as he wrapped large hands around her shoulders. "Gods, his ass is so perfect."
There was a pause, and then she could feel Cloud's blush, sizzling her hair.
"Um, I don't think that's-"
"Oh, shut up." She twisted in his arms, resting her chin against his chest and staring up into his eyes. He was red as a tomato. "Don't think I haven't seen you staring. I know I've been."
"But, Tifa, he's our-"
"Son? Really? I don't know about you, but I don't remember any nine-months pregnancy." She poked him in the stomach. "It would've been hell on my girlish figure."
Cloud looked nervous. "What are you saying?"
Tifa rolled her eyes. "Nothing, for now. But a girl's allowed to indulge in some fantasies, isn't she?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, you're gorgeous, he's gorgeous, you're both gayer than the Turks-"
"What?!"
"I'm just saying, it makes for some really good bedtime fantasies, okay? It's like not I can take it out on you." She gave him a pointed look, and okay, that was below the belt, because they had an unspoken agreement not to mention the Number Of Times They Had Slept Together, the grand total of which was one.
Now Cloud looked miserable and guilty, like some sort of kicked puppy.Tifa sighed.
"Stop looking like you've been kneed in the balls, Cloud, we've been through this before. You, me, sexually incompatible, blah blah, stay together as partners. Gods know someone needed to take care of the kids." She shot him a mischievous glance. "Maybe in more ways than one."
"Tifa!"
"Calm down, calm down." She laughed. "No pressure. I just take my fun where I can find it." Her smile was crooked but sincere. "Maybe you should, too."
They kissed, and it was familiar and good, sexual incompatibility be damned. Tifa tasted of curry and cigarette smoke, and she smelled like home.
"Now go get 'im, tiger." she said when they broke apart. "And remember - all men are dogs."
6. The list of inappropriate Pavlovian reactions is getting embarrassingly long.
These are the things Cloud loved about Denzel:
All characters © their respective owners; I claim no right nor profit.
Warning: deals with issues of age and filial relations. Check tags for other details. Dedicated to blizzardseason, who needed some lovin'. And not a word about Pavlov, y'all.
A brief history of filial affection
1. Denzel likes to suck cock.
Not many people know this, or rather, not many people remember him at 16 years old, an intrepid explorer to the world of Edge's gay nightlife. He'd been an avid peruser of dance clubs, and received an extensive education in anything two men and a given assortment of tools could get up to. But one girly brunette is quite like another, when viewed from above, and nobody associated Denzel The Club Slut with current-day Denzel, who now sported a much firmer chin and red highlights in his hair.
Nobody but Cloud, that is.
There was a thunk sound from Denzel's bedroom. It was the sound of Cloud's head colliding with the wooden door, somewhat painfully.
"Gauaahh," he said, intelligently.
Denzel licked at his foreskin, pressed his tongue against the slit. He was on his knees, wearing pajama boxers and a wicked smile, breathing in the scent of Cloud's crotch, all of which really shouldn't have been as arousing as it actually was.
"Nice," he whispered, then dipped his head to mouth at Cloud's balls, rub his face in the musk and sweat and pre-come. Denzel had always had beautiful, unflawed skin, and perhaps this was why.
"Denzel-" Cloud's voice sounded hesitant, as though he was unsure whether the name was supposed to sound angry or pleading. His breath hitched as something warm ghosted over the length of his cock - a breath, a kiss, a tiny lick - and then multiplied a thousandfold, blossoming into heat and suction, Denzel's cheeks hollowing as he took Cloud deep in his mouth.
Cloud's head thudded against the door again. He tended to speak exclusively in vowels at this point.
His boy - and gods, just how wrong was that? - really was a prime cocksucker. Denzel was a real-life porn star: opening his throat, moaning loudly, back curving as he pressed against Cloud's leg. He was sweet and lithe, with a mouth pink and round as a girl's, practically made for giving blowjobs. Cloud squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think about the Life Stream.
(Of course, all that had resulted in was an extremely inappropriate Pavlovian reaction to Midgarian metaphysics. Cloud was a horrible father. But oh, Denzel's mouth-)
He came with a hoarse moan, fist banging against the door, Denzel's fingers tight on his thigh. After a few minutes, he looked down, and was rewarded with a smug smile.
"Your bangs are wet." Cloud said, having not quite recovered his higher brain functions yet.
"I know." Denzel replied, pulling at the band of his boxers to keep the wet spot from touching his skin. "They're dipped in your bodily fluids."
Cloud looked vaguely horrified, and Denzel grinned.
"You are so easy." he said. "Tell Tifa I'll be down to say goodnight; I'm going to shower."
It was a nice little daily ritual.
2. The daddy issues were unbearable.
The morning after the whole Sephiroth affair, Cloud woke up to the smell of pancakes, maple syrup, and a whole tray of breakfast right in his face.
Denzel stood in a corner, haloed by sunlight like the stone telamones which adorned the walls of Edge's manifold churches. He met Cloud's gaze with reluctance, hair falling into his eyes, newly-cured hands clasped behind his back.
"Good morning," said Cloud, quite at a loss for words. Tifa was, predictably, nowhere to be seen. It was either talk or go back to sleep.
"Morning." Denzel said quietly, a blush coloring his cheeks. His eyes darted from Cloud to the tray in his lap, piled high as it was with foodstuffs. "I made you breakfast."
"Er. Thank you." said Cloud, not quite sure what was the correct response in such a situation. In order to stave off conversation, he speared a syrup-drenched morsel, took a bite, swallowed. "It's very good," he offered, and smiled.
Denzel flushed red to the roots of his hair, bobbing his head quickly. He muttered "thank you" and scuttled out of the room, a disheveled lump of embarrassment.
Cloud stared after him, then shrugged and began eating. It really was very good.
3. When we said unbearable, we weren't kidding.
"No!" Cloud shouted, feeling the blood drain from his face. "No! Absolutely not!"
Denzel pouted. "You could have told me that before I covered myself in syrup, you know."
"I am not seeing this!" Cloud covered his eyes, and wished, not for the first time, he had some really strong acid handy. Or home-brewed rust remover. Either would render him permanently blind. "This is beyond sick, Denzel."
"Oh, come on." Denzel's voice was slightly irritated, and closer now, too. "No need to be like that. What happened to brave, adventurous, kinky Cloud?"
"He just died." Cloud proclaimed, then jumped as he felt a hand on his belt. "No! Get off. I'm not touching you like this."
"Fuck you." said Denzel cheerfully, stepping in and unzipping Cloud's pants. "You want this and you know it."
"I-" Cloud said, and got no further before Denzel kissed him, sweet and sticky, maple layering his mouth. He tried for a muffled "No, seriously-" but Denzel curled their tongues together, syrup melting on his lips, and Cloud promptly shut up.
"This is so wrong," he groaned as he was pushed onto the bed, naked and smeared all over. Denzel had somehow managed to target his nipples, and Cloud looked down to see his chest glisten under what was probably enough maple to feed a small kingdom. "You made me pancakes," he said, "every day. For five years. This is so wrong."
"Shut up." Denzel climbed on top of him, then leaned down to lick a long, wet stripe across his abdomen. "And try preaching without the raging hard-on, next time. You lack conviction."
"Nngh," said Cloud, then pulled Denzel up and kissed him, hard, noses mashing together and fingers snagging in hair. Denzel made a faint sound of surprise,then grinned into the kiss and pressed closer. His ass, dripping syrup, was rubbing against Cloud and slowly driving him insane.
As it turned out, you could lubricate anything with enough maple. And later, when Cloud had Denzel face-down against the pillows, moaning and thrashing and mumbling "Gods, I love your tongue", the combination of tastes was absolutely dizzying. Cloud licked Denzel clean inside and out, thorough and sandy-rough like a lioness, burying his face in the scent of maple and semen and Denzel's body, sweet like nothing else.
Of course, the sheets were irreparably ruined.
And so, in Cloud's mind, were pancakes.
4. Denzel learned from the best.
"Okay," said Cloud, stroking Denzel's hair. "That was good. Better than last time. Now let me try."
"You?" Denzel looked doubtful, lying back on the bed. "What do you know about giving hea - nngh."
"Mmm," Cloud agreed, easily pinning Denzel down on the mattress. He exhaled through his nose, then swallowed around the cock in his mouth. Denzel bucked in a very gratifying manner. Cloud tried not to grin.
"I, I never knew," Denzel was babbling, trying to sit up so he could stare at Cloud, and continuously being pushed down on his back. "You never - where did you - how - ahhh what the holy fuck Cloud-"
"Shut up for one minute, gods," Cloud said, then went back to hollowing his cheeks. Denzel thrashed about in a vaguely desperate manner, upsetting the flower vase and knocking down the alarm clock. Cloud rolled his eyes.
Afterwards, Denzel was panting like a racehorse, and Cloud looked extremely smug. The flower vase was broken, but nobody really cared.
"Who in the - taught you - wow." Denzel managed, staring at Cloud like he was the Life Stream messiah. Which he sort of was, actually. "Are you going to teach me to do that?"
"If you want." Cloud shrugged, modest and unassuming. The faint blush staining his cheeks gave him away, though. "I had a long time to learn, though. It takes practice."
"Oh, don't worry." Denzel leaned in and kissed him, eyes twinkling. "I'll be the best student you've ever had."
5. All men are dogs.
"So basically," Tifa said fervently, "the important thing to remember is that all men are dogs."
"Got it." Denzel nodded. "Can I have my condom money now?"
"Don't make out in any bathrooms, you little hussy." Tifa tossed the bills on the table, and moved to rise. Denzel blew her a kiss, scooped up the cash, and flounced out the door.
"What do you think?" she said, gazing after him. "Did we raise him good enough?"
"We did the best we could." Cloud said, stepping into the room. "He's a good kid, he'll manage."
"I hope so." Tifa leaned into Cloud's embrace, closing her eyes as he wrapped large hands around her shoulders. "Gods, his ass is so perfect."
There was a pause, and then she could feel Cloud's blush, sizzling her hair.
"Um, I don't think that's-"
"Oh, shut up." She twisted in his arms, resting her chin against his chest and staring up into his eyes. He was red as a tomato. "Don't think I haven't seen you staring. I know I've been."
"But, Tifa, he's our-"
"Son? Really? I don't know about you, but I don't remember any nine-months pregnancy." She poked him in the stomach. "It would've been hell on my girlish figure."
Cloud looked nervous. "What are you saying?"
Tifa rolled her eyes. "Nothing, for now. But a girl's allowed to indulge in some fantasies, isn't she?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, you're gorgeous, he's gorgeous, you're both gayer than the Turks-"
"What?!"
"I'm just saying, it makes for some really good bedtime fantasies, okay? It's like not I can take it out on you." She gave him a pointed look, and okay, that was below the belt, because they had an unspoken agreement not to mention the Number Of Times They Had Slept Together, the grand total of which was one.
Now Cloud looked miserable and guilty, like some sort of kicked puppy.Tifa sighed.
"Stop looking like you've been kneed in the balls, Cloud, we've been through this before. You, me, sexually incompatible, blah blah, stay together as partners. Gods know someone needed to take care of the kids." She shot him a mischievous glance. "Maybe in more ways than one."
"Tifa!"
"Calm down, calm down." She laughed. "No pressure. I just take my fun where I can find it." Her smile was crooked but sincere. "Maybe you should, too."
They kissed, and it was familiar and good, sexual incompatibility be damned. Tifa tasted of curry and cigarette smoke, and she smelled like home.
"Now go get 'im, tiger." she said when they broke apart. "And remember - all men are dogs."
6. The list of inappropriate Pavlovian reactions is getting embarrassingly long.
These are the things Cloud loved about Denzel:
- Gods, his mouth. What? There are worse places to start.
- The way he looked in the morning, sprawled across the mattress, oblivious to wet spots. His hair ruffled across the pillow, cheek mashed, snoring loud enough to cause earthquakes. He always woke up with a crick in his neck.
- The way he'd looked in the mornings when he was younger, when Cloud would come in every day to wake him for school. 12-year-old Denzel had a habit of wrapping the blanket around himself like a cocoon, which resulted in a daily struggle to extricate him, and lots of torn sheets. Cloud wasn't sure how he had enough oxygen to breath in there, but who cared; it was too adorable.
- Their in-jokes. Raising a kid, you shared some pretty special moments together, and while it was somewhat disturbing to look at his lover and remember That One Time With The Malfunctioning Shower And The Cantaloupe, they had a shared web of associations, to the point where they finished each other's sentences like it was the most natural thing in the world.
- He was a quick learner. They'd bought him a remote-control toy train for his 9th birthday, and two days later it had broken down. Cloud remembers sitting together in Denzel's room, explaining the mechanics of the thing, watching Denzel connect wires and screw in bolts with quiet, bright-eyed confidence.
- His cooking. Tifa had always been completely useless in the kitchen, and Marlene discovered feminism at the age of 12, consequentially rejecting all house chores on the basis that they were patriarchal inventions designed to oppress the female sex. As a result, Denzel had been left with the task of feeding the household, and he'd grown pretty good at it, over time. His pancakes? Were orgasmic.
- His laugh. It had been too quiet when he'd been younger, but as he grew older, it deepened, becoming throatier and more confident. Cloud would do anything to hear Denzel laugh.
- His mouth. Yeah, yeah, shut up.
- His tendency to be unconsciously saturated in religious symbolism. No one was quite sure how it happened, but every time he stood before a window, or a lamp, or a white background - instant halo.
- His smell. It was indescribable. No, really. Cloud couldn't pin it if he tried, and really, he'd tried a lot. It was just - beyond words. Eau de Denzel. One day he'd bottle it and keep it in a vial around his neck.
- His bizarre, inexplicable, incurable love for motorcycles. Nobody knew why or how, but Cloud wholeheartedly approved. Except for the fact that now his seat leather smelled of Denzel, from all the times they'd had sex on his bike, and - well, add another item to the inappropriate list.
- His mouth.
- He wanted to help people when he grew up. Social worker, activist, doctor - he wasn't sure yet, but secretly, Cloud suspected he'd be a child care worker. Some things are inevitable.
- How one day, Denzel had given him a chain with an platinum ring on it, perfectly smooth and shining silver-blue. "It's like marriage," he said, "except you're sort of hitched to my mom." Cloud wore that chain everywhere, along with Zack's dog tags and Aerith's bracelet, pieces of his history clicking together over his heart.
- How one day, sometime soon, Cloud was going to give Denzel a chain and ring to match.
All characters © their respective owners; I claim no right nor profit.