KH2 Fic: 'Something' Series IV - Bottle Shards
Life keeps sucking. By June I'll have killed someone, I'm fairly certain of that.
But anyway - Something Series. This is the baby that started everything - I wanted it to be more than a PWP piece, then it became a monster. I'll appreciate every single piece of feedback on this fic - not that I don't already, but I'm actively inviting everyone to say anything and everything that comes to mind as you read this. That's hardly my first time writing sex scenes, but it's the one where I tried to make it really good and real-feeling. Tell me what you think. Please.
Title: Bottle Shards
Pairing/Characters: Cloud/Leon.
Warnings: GRAPHIC SEX AHEAD. And alcohol consumption.
Word Count: ~2400.
Rating: NC-17 for full-blown gay sex. NSFW.
Summary: Because sex doesn't solve problems, but it surely makes them more interesting.
A.N.: Written for the otp_100 challenge, under theme #23, Drunk. Something Series is a canon what-if continuum of eight fics, posted in chronological order. This is Part IV.
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Leon walks into his modest, functional bedroom on the back of Headquarters, tired. So much that he only notices the other presence in the room halfway through the process of removing his short jacket. His stance tightens for a second, fingers twitching for the reassuring hardness of the gunblade’s handle - but Cloud seems to pose no threat from his slump by the foot of Leon's bed. He just sits there, painted to a strange coloring by the moonlight in his shirtless state, harnesses and sword nowhere to be seen, and a sharp focus on blue-tainted-green eyes that doesn't quite match with the half-full bottle he brings mechanically to his lips.
Leon never knew of Fenrir tattooed to the same spot where it usually rests in his shoulder-guard - but then again, there's an awful lot he doesn't know about Cloud.
It looks nice, stark and alive against his pale skin, either way.
Shrugging slightly to himself, Leon toes off his boots and lets the jacket slip from his frame, turning calmly to hang it on the backrest of the rickety chair by the desk. He considers the situation for a while, but Cloud's gaze is burning on his scalp, and for some reason he doesn't really want to keep his back to the blond right now. It probably has something to do with getting fed up of avoiding that very situation for long enough.
Cloud has taken the first step - Leon knows now it's his turn to make a move about that something that hangs too thick, too distracting between them. He's no coward, and there aren't many options left anyhow.
He tells himself he could turn away anytime he wanted to, even if it bruised his pride. But he suspects that wanting to may become a problem.
Absentmindedly shoving Griever beneath his collar, Leon pulls his shirt over his head and lays it atop the jacket, before turning slowly on his heels. The three steps to his bed sound heavier than they should, and he only stops to the feeling of Cloud's breathing, sweeping hot and intoxicated against his abdomen.
"What are you doing here?" Leon asks, if only because there's no other line more appropriate already made up, and he's never been creative in ways of expressing himself. But of course, it's not like Cloud minds that, if the slightly thoughtful tilt of his head as he takes one more sip from his bottle is any indication.
"Making a drunken mistake," the blond answers eventually, lifting the container of strangely pink-colored liquid in offering. Leon arches one eyebrow before snorting and shrugging again, holding the bottle by the neck to toss back one long shot. Strong vodka burns down his throat and drops like a punch in his stomach, but there's this overly sweet, fruity aftertaste in his mouth, and he takes two more gulps even though he doesn't like strawberries. Sugar and distillates never bid well for one's sobriety - that’s just fine with him.
"Booze to get wasted in three doses," Leon comments blandly, downing one more shot before giving the drink back to its owner. Cloud nods in acquiescence as he drains a little more alcohol, blinking slowly, as though trying to contain any impatience that might escape through his eyes.
He's placed himself into reach, accessible, close enough to touch - and not even the ghostly light of the moon makes Cloud seem any less than solid and real against the blankness of Leon's covers. Leon knows all too well that the swordsman has done enough. Showing any more eagerness isn't really his role there - that's Leon's job.
Telling himself that the deep breath which shakes his chest isn’t to steel his resolve, Leon slowly rises his hands to pull his gloves off with his teeth. Glowing blue eyes follow each movement as he lowers them again, stretching his fingers to run through blond hair - and if the strands feel as wind-roughened as their usual style implies, Leon's trigger-and-sword calluses surely aren't any softer against Cloud’s temple, his ear, the back of his neck.
It shouldn't feel so right when Cloud lets his head weigh down on his palm, brushing half-kisses to the inside of his wrist... but it does, and Leon reaches for the bottle with his free hand almost too hastily.
This could go so wrong - it's already going, in fact. This attraction-respect-care-desire-understanding-lust - this something, whatever it is - wasn't supposed to exist at all, let alone to grow strong enough to force either of them to act upon it.
More sweet liquor plunges down his throat and Leon follows its example, falling to a tightly fit straddle on Cloud's lap.
Pale lashes brush Cloud's high cheekbones as his gaze runs across every pathway of Leon's body, recognizing the terrain before making any moves. Leon knows the tactic just as well, his own eyes memorizing the ridges of lithe muscles and the settle of sharp bones and the splotch of art calling attention to nearby rosy nipples and the ever-ready posture capable of bending and breaking and... The drink slips from his grasp as Leon uses his hands to trace every single one of those strategic points, but neither of them seems to mind the little alcohol lost with the shattered bottle, since they're already busy tasting each other's skin.
Cloud moans loudly when Leon sinks his teeth on the joint of his neck, and a low burn of something like pride, or perhaps comfort, curls hot and pleasant down the brunet’s spine, up his crotch - not only because he can make the blond produce those absurdly arousing noises, but also because he's not proved wrong on the assumption that Cloud would make them. He'd fantasized too many times of those exact same grunts and whines and rough demands for "more, fuck, yeah" to be able to continue if Cloud had turned out to be a silent lover.
He knows only the essentials about Cloud, and somehow that's already enough to put him there, rolling his hips much too enthusiastically for the hardness pressing up on him, flicking Cloud's zipper open greedily. Leon isn't quite sure he wants to find out where it'll get him if he ever touches more than the other's surface - or, worse yet, if Cloud trespasses his own barriers.
There's this nagging feeling in the back of his head that it will only go downhill from then on, but the booze and the sweat and the blunt nails making crisscross scratches on his back suggest that downhill is the best chance Leon's had in quite a few years.
"Help me get these off," he breathes into blond spikes as Cloud sucks a purple mark on his collarbone, and their hands entwine and struggle to flip Leon's belts undone and away. Nimble fingers snap the catch of his pants open, and as Leon stretches his body to full length to reach the nightstand, Cloud takes his cue to push restraining leather away from the brunet's hips, off his legs.
Leon feels a small sigh rolling off his lips as his erection slips free, staring almost dazedly into Cloud's somewhat guilty expression of hunger. He rises himself on his knees, hugging the blond head to his chest as support while spreading a messy goop of lubrication to his right hand. His fingers twist into the spikes when Cloud resumes to sucking a constellation of hickeys around Griever, and Leon reaches behind himself with almost embarrassing avidness.
Grunting as he parts his own opening with two blunt fingers, Leon lifts an eyebrow at the vaguely admiring look he receives for his efforts. Cloud holds his waist, thumbing small circles to his hipbones and leaning back to watch with heavy-lidded eyes as the gunblader fingers himself open.
"You didn't need to," Cloud says quietly, letting the fingertips of one hand slide over the trail of dark hairs running down Leon's navel. His palm closes in a tight tunnel around Leon's cock, and the brunet grunts again.
There's a scowl twisting Leon's scar even deeper, and it has little to do with the widening motions he's performing up his ass.
"I want to," he replies bitingly and it doesn't matter that it's a truth he'd live better off without, because he's suddenly so angry he has to breathe deeply and distract himself with a sharp jab up inside not to tear Cloud's hair out of his skull.
He wants to, damnit. He really fucking wants to, and Strife better not dare back off once Leon's willing to give all of this mess a try.
Cloud blinks quickly a couple of times before his face closes into a frown as resolute as Leon's, and the hand that was steadying the brunet shoots up to hook around his shoulders. They fall, making a curve to align themselves to the bed, Leon's fingers slipping out of him as he crashes face-first onto Cloud - but that's alright, since the blond's open mouth is waiting for him, tasting of alcoholic strawberries and a desperate need of some stability, some reassurance, something certain in this gray zone they've reached. They fight for dominance - but it's slow, resigned, too tired to really battle, too proud to ever give up completely.
A trail of saliva hangs between their flushed, abused lips as Leon lifts his body, sitting over Cloud's lying form, pressing the other man down on the mattress by his chest with both hands.
"We’re making a drunken mistake, not a regret," Leon states calmly, hating the way his heart rumbles too loud for comfort on his ears. He wants to believe it’s just the booze, but not even he is that good at fooling himself.
"I'm not regretting this if you aren't," Cloud shrugs, muscles rippling under Leon's hands, breathing steady - but his face is slightly pinched inwards, his eyes hardening despite all the effort they've put into getting out of it enough to not care.
But they care, don't they? They care, and that's the fucking problem, and Leon wants to kill something as he reaches behind himself. With a firm grip he aligns Cloud's wet length to his hole, and Leon drowns in the blond's moan as he sits back onto him, taking all of his cock in one sharp thrust.
It hurts like a bitch, burning and pulsing and too big, too tight, way too fucking long since he last had another man inside him - and Leon isn't quite sure of why he's rolling his head back and rocking hard above Cloud, but soon enough it doesn't matter.
Callused fingers clench in his ass, parting his cheeks wider apart as Cloud hauls him up and down his shaft, driving him again and again to the hilt, until he can't hold the gasps and grunts as his sweet spot is hit mercilessly. Leon's fingers convulse against Cloud's chest, scraping for more, searching for something to hold onto, and it's not so right he can feel the other's heart beating in the same rhythm as his own underneath his palm.
They're frantic, desperate and blind, and Leon thinks he might suffocate in his own moans as Cloud rolls them around - but the weight bearing down on him is so real, the sweat slicking their movements thick and salty, the hard thrusts inside him no more and no less than he could hope for at that moment. Cloud’s eyes above him are a glowing blue haze, so Leon presses his own eyelids very tight shut.
Cloud runs his hand up and down Leon's erection, nips at his neck, whines out his name in prayer at his ear - and there's this, this whatever it is, this tension and fear and drive, this something pouring on every jerky snap of the blond's hips, and Leon comes like it might help him understand.
It doesn't take Cloud much longer - a few more thrusts and a dry shout that dies alone into Leon's silent bedroom as he falls boneless on top of the brunet. And that’s that. Minutes tick by slowly as the pleasure of orgasm fades all too soon, and Leon feels his own semen cooling between their stomachs, Cloud growing soft still inside him, the blond's almost controlled breathing fanning through shaggy brown hair.
It's been one hell of a mistake, and Leon wishes they'd kept the booze for later.
Eventually Cloud's hands hook on the sheets as he pulls himself upright, and the discomfort produced as he slides out of Leon's body means little next to the sudden awkwardness weaving itself between them, nearly tangible, sharp in the musky air. Leon keeps his gaze evened on the dark tattoo marking the other man's shoulder, while Cloud sits again on the edge of the bed, blue eyes trailing over the almost bare room.
There's nothing for Cloud to find on the neat desk, or in the shards of the bottle on the floor. All that's waiting for him is there, laying on sweaty sheets right beside him - but he's still lost, and Leon isn't that sure whether he wants to be found, anyway.
"Can I stay the night?" Cloud requests simply awhile after, facing Leon but not really looking at him.
Leon breathes in slowly, averting his eyes for a second. Yes, it's been one hell of a mistake, but he regrets not a second of it - so he pushes himself upright and embraces Cloud's back, hooking his arms around the firm waist, hiding his eyes on the curve of an inked shoulder.
"Sure," he says quietly into the short golden strands that don't quite make it to the long, messed-up spikes.
Cloud twists a little in his hold, turning enough to let their lips touch. Leon stays still for a moment - but no regrets, not a fucking little regret tonight, specially for things left undone - so he lets himself apply the barest of pressures back into the small, unpretentious kiss.
They shuffle a little to get under the stained covers, pressed close on the single bed, legs bumping until twining in agreement. Leon closes his eyes and restricts himself to enjoy the shared warmth for what it is, and it doesn't take long for one day of hard work and tiring sex to catch up with him.
He falls asleep half-embraced to Cloud, and there's still something out of place.
-------
Thanks for keeping up with this up to now, and stay tuned for the next part (which should be out sometime during May, knowing myself.)
X-Posted to otp_100 and leonxcloud.
But anyway - Something Series. This is the baby that started everything - I wanted it to be more than a PWP piece, then it became a monster. I'll appreciate every single piece of feedback on this fic - not that I don't already, but I'm actively inviting everyone to say anything and everything that comes to mind as you read this. That's hardly my first time writing sex scenes, but it's the one where I tried to make it really good and real-feeling. Tell me what you think. Please.
Title: Bottle Shards
Pairing/Characters: Cloud/Leon.
Warnings: GRAPHIC SEX AHEAD. And alcohol consumption.
Word Count: ~2400.
Rating: NC-17 for full-blown gay sex. NSFW.
Summary: Because sex doesn't solve problems, but it surely makes them more interesting.
A.N.: Written for the otp_100 challenge, under theme #23, Drunk. Something Series is a canon what-if continuum of eight fics, posted in chronological order. This is Part IV.
-------
Leon walks into his modest, functional bedroom on the back of Headquarters, tired. So much that he only notices the other presence in the room halfway through the process of removing his short jacket. His stance tightens for a second, fingers twitching for the reassuring hardness of the gunblade’s handle - but Cloud seems to pose no threat from his slump by the foot of Leon's bed. He just sits there, painted to a strange coloring by the moonlight in his shirtless state, harnesses and sword nowhere to be seen, and a sharp focus on blue-tainted-green eyes that doesn't quite match with the half-full bottle he brings mechanically to his lips.
Leon never knew of Fenrir tattooed to the same spot where it usually rests in his shoulder-guard - but then again, there's an awful lot he doesn't know about Cloud.
It looks nice, stark and alive against his pale skin, either way.
Shrugging slightly to himself, Leon toes off his boots and lets the jacket slip from his frame, turning calmly to hang it on the backrest of the rickety chair by the desk. He considers the situation for a while, but Cloud's gaze is burning on his scalp, and for some reason he doesn't really want to keep his back to the blond right now. It probably has something to do with getting fed up of avoiding that very situation for long enough.
Cloud has taken the first step - Leon knows now it's his turn to make a move about that something that hangs too thick, too distracting between them. He's no coward, and there aren't many options left anyhow.
He tells himself he could turn away anytime he wanted to, even if it bruised his pride. But he suspects that wanting to may become a problem.
Absentmindedly shoving Griever beneath his collar, Leon pulls his shirt over his head and lays it atop the jacket, before turning slowly on his heels. The three steps to his bed sound heavier than they should, and he only stops to the feeling of Cloud's breathing, sweeping hot and intoxicated against his abdomen.
"What are you doing here?" Leon asks, if only because there's no other line more appropriate already made up, and he's never been creative in ways of expressing himself. But of course, it's not like Cloud minds that, if the slightly thoughtful tilt of his head as he takes one more sip from his bottle is any indication.
"Making a drunken mistake," the blond answers eventually, lifting the container of strangely pink-colored liquid in offering. Leon arches one eyebrow before snorting and shrugging again, holding the bottle by the neck to toss back one long shot. Strong vodka burns down his throat and drops like a punch in his stomach, but there's this overly sweet, fruity aftertaste in his mouth, and he takes two more gulps even though he doesn't like strawberries. Sugar and distillates never bid well for one's sobriety - that’s just fine with him.
"Booze to get wasted in three doses," Leon comments blandly, downing one more shot before giving the drink back to its owner. Cloud nods in acquiescence as he drains a little more alcohol, blinking slowly, as though trying to contain any impatience that might escape through his eyes.
He's placed himself into reach, accessible, close enough to touch - and not even the ghostly light of the moon makes Cloud seem any less than solid and real against the blankness of Leon's covers. Leon knows all too well that the swordsman has done enough. Showing any more eagerness isn't really his role there - that's Leon's job.
Telling himself that the deep breath which shakes his chest isn’t to steel his resolve, Leon slowly rises his hands to pull his gloves off with his teeth. Glowing blue eyes follow each movement as he lowers them again, stretching his fingers to run through blond hair - and if the strands feel as wind-roughened as their usual style implies, Leon's trigger-and-sword calluses surely aren't any softer against Cloud’s temple, his ear, the back of his neck.
It shouldn't feel so right when Cloud lets his head weigh down on his palm, brushing half-kisses to the inside of his wrist... but it does, and Leon reaches for the bottle with his free hand almost too hastily.
This could go so wrong - it's already going, in fact. This attraction-respect-care-desire-understanding-lust - this something, whatever it is - wasn't supposed to exist at all, let alone to grow strong enough to force either of them to act upon it.
More sweet liquor plunges down his throat and Leon follows its example, falling to a tightly fit straddle on Cloud's lap.
Pale lashes brush Cloud's high cheekbones as his gaze runs across every pathway of Leon's body, recognizing the terrain before making any moves. Leon knows the tactic just as well, his own eyes memorizing the ridges of lithe muscles and the settle of sharp bones and the splotch of art calling attention to nearby rosy nipples and the ever-ready posture capable of bending and breaking and... The drink slips from his grasp as Leon uses his hands to trace every single one of those strategic points, but neither of them seems to mind the little alcohol lost with the shattered bottle, since they're already busy tasting each other's skin.
Cloud moans loudly when Leon sinks his teeth on the joint of his neck, and a low burn of something like pride, or perhaps comfort, curls hot and pleasant down the brunet’s spine, up his crotch - not only because he can make the blond produce those absurdly arousing noises, but also because he's not proved wrong on the assumption that Cloud would make them. He'd fantasized too many times of those exact same grunts and whines and rough demands for "more, fuck, yeah" to be able to continue if Cloud had turned out to be a silent lover.
He knows only the essentials about Cloud, and somehow that's already enough to put him there, rolling his hips much too enthusiastically for the hardness pressing up on him, flicking Cloud's zipper open greedily. Leon isn't quite sure he wants to find out where it'll get him if he ever touches more than the other's surface - or, worse yet, if Cloud trespasses his own barriers.
There's this nagging feeling in the back of his head that it will only go downhill from then on, but the booze and the sweat and the blunt nails making crisscross scratches on his back suggest that downhill is the best chance Leon's had in quite a few years.
"Help me get these off," he breathes into blond spikes as Cloud sucks a purple mark on his collarbone, and their hands entwine and struggle to flip Leon's belts undone and away. Nimble fingers snap the catch of his pants open, and as Leon stretches his body to full length to reach the nightstand, Cloud takes his cue to push restraining leather away from the brunet's hips, off his legs.
Leon feels a small sigh rolling off his lips as his erection slips free, staring almost dazedly into Cloud's somewhat guilty expression of hunger. He rises himself on his knees, hugging the blond head to his chest as support while spreading a messy goop of lubrication to his right hand. His fingers twist into the spikes when Cloud resumes to sucking a constellation of hickeys around Griever, and Leon reaches behind himself with almost embarrassing avidness.
Grunting as he parts his own opening with two blunt fingers, Leon lifts an eyebrow at the vaguely admiring look he receives for his efforts. Cloud holds his waist, thumbing small circles to his hipbones and leaning back to watch with heavy-lidded eyes as the gunblader fingers himself open.
"You didn't need to," Cloud says quietly, letting the fingertips of one hand slide over the trail of dark hairs running down Leon's navel. His palm closes in a tight tunnel around Leon's cock, and the brunet grunts again.
There's a scowl twisting Leon's scar even deeper, and it has little to do with the widening motions he's performing up his ass.
"I want to," he replies bitingly and it doesn't matter that it's a truth he'd live better off without, because he's suddenly so angry he has to breathe deeply and distract himself with a sharp jab up inside not to tear Cloud's hair out of his skull.
He wants to, damnit. He really fucking wants to, and Strife better not dare back off once Leon's willing to give all of this mess a try.
Cloud blinks quickly a couple of times before his face closes into a frown as resolute as Leon's, and the hand that was steadying the brunet shoots up to hook around his shoulders. They fall, making a curve to align themselves to the bed, Leon's fingers slipping out of him as he crashes face-first onto Cloud - but that's alright, since the blond's open mouth is waiting for him, tasting of alcoholic strawberries and a desperate need of some stability, some reassurance, something certain in this gray zone they've reached. They fight for dominance - but it's slow, resigned, too tired to really battle, too proud to ever give up completely.
A trail of saliva hangs between their flushed, abused lips as Leon lifts his body, sitting over Cloud's lying form, pressing the other man down on the mattress by his chest with both hands.
"We’re making a drunken mistake, not a regret," Leon states calmly, hating the way his heart rumbles too loud for comfort on his ears. He wants to believe it’s just the booze, but not even he is that good at fooling himself.
"I'm not regretting this if you aren't," Cloud shrugs, muscles rippling under Leon's hands, breathing steady - but his face is slightly pinched inwards, his eyes hardening despite all the effort they've put into getting out of it enough to not care.
But they care, don't they? They care, and that's the fucking problem, and Leon wants to kill something as he reaches behind himself. With a firm grip he aligns Cloud's wet length to his hole, and Leon drowns in the blond's moan as he sits back onto him, taking all of his cock in one sharp thrust.
It hurts like a bitch, burning and pulsing and too big, too tight, way too fucking long since he last had another man inside him - and Leon isn't quite sure of why he's rolling his head back and rocking hard above Cloud, but soon enough it doesn't matter.
Callused fingers clench in his ass, parting his cheeks wider apart as Cloud hauls him up and down his shaft, driving him again and again to the hilt, until he can't hold the gasps and grunts as his sweet spot is hit mercilessly. Leon's fingers convulse against Cloud's chest, scraping for more, searching for something to hold onto, and it's not so right he can feel the other's heart beating in the same rhythm as his own underneath his palm.
They're frantic, desperate and blind, and Leon thinks he might suffocate in his own moans as Cloud rolls them around - but the weight bearing down on him is so real, the sweat slicking their movements thick and salty, the hard thrusts inside him no more and no less than he could hope for at that moment. Cloud’s eyes above him are a glowing blue haze, so Leon presses his own eyelids very tight shut.
Cloud runs his hand up and down Leon's erection, nips at his neck, whines out his name in prayer at his ear - and there's this, this whatever it is, this tension and fear and drive, this something pouring on every jerky snap of the blond's hips, and Leon comes like it might help him understand.
It doesn't take Cloud much longer - a few more thrusts and a dry shout that dies alone into Leon's silent bedroom as he falls boneless on top of the brunet. And that’s that. Minutes tick by slowly as the pleasure of orgasm fades all too soon, and Leon feels his own semen cooling between their stomachs, Cloud growing soft still inside him, the blond's almost controlled breathing fanning through shaggy brown hair.
It's been one hell of a mistake, and Leon wishes they'd kept the booze for later.
Eventually Cloud's hands hook on the sheets as he pulls himself upright, and the discomfort produced as he slides out of Leon's body means little next to the sudden awkwardness weaving itself between them, nearly tangible, sharp in the musky air. Leon keeps his gaze evened on the dark tattoo marking the other man's shoulder, while Cloud sits again on the edge of the bed, blue eyes trailing over the almost bare room.
There's nothing for Cloud to find on the neat desk, or in the shards of the bottle on the floor. All that's waiting for him is there, laying on sweaty sheets right beside him - but he's still lost, and Leon isn't that sure whether he wants to be found, anyway.
"Can I stay the night?" Cloud requests simply awhile after, facing Leon but not really looking at him.
Leon breathes in slowly, averting his eyes for a second. Yes, it's been one hell of a mistake, but he regrets not a second of it - so he pushes himself upright and embraces Cloud's back, hooking his arms around the firm waist, hiding his eyes on the curve of an inked shoulder.
"Sure," he says quietly into the short golden strands that don't quite make it to the long, messed-up spikes.
Cloud twists a little in his hold, turning enough to let their lips touch. Leon stays still for a moment - but no regrets, not a fucking little regret tonight, specially for things left undone - so he lets himself apply the barest of pressures back into the small, unpretentious kiss.
They shuffle a little to get under the stained covers, pressed close on the single bed, legs bumping until twining in agreement. Leon closes his eyes and restricts himself to enjoy the shared warmth for what it is, and it doesn't take long for one day of hard work and tiring sex to catch up with him.
He falls asleep half-embraced to Cloud, and there's still something out of place.
-------
Thanks for keeping up with this up to now, and stay tuned for the next part (which should be out sometime during May, knowing myself.)
X-Posted to otp_100 and leonxcloud.