FF7: ZackCloud "Fairy Tales"
Fairy Tales
Cloud Strife looked like a fairy tale princess.
Laughing to himself, Zachary Stoker brushed a golden strand of hair away from Cloud’s peaceful face. As much as Cloud would kill him for the thought, it was true: soft in sleep, fair features highlighted by the sunlight, Cloud Strife was as beautiful and mythical as the sleeping princess in fairy tales. Unfortunately for Cloud, Zack had never heard of any sleeping princes, so sleeping princess it was.
Zack shook his head. He didn’t go through a forest of thorns for this beauty, but it was close.
Realizing his hand was lingering over Cloud’s cheek, Zack hastily pulled it away. With Cloud reclining in his arms as they rested under the shade of a tall tree, contact was inevitable, but the closeness was not. “Haven’t seen any Shinra goons yet, Buddy,” he said aloud. After he said that, he glanced around, making sure he hadn’t jinxed himself. When only a robin stared back at him, he turned back to the blond in his arms. “We’ll probably see them soon, though. Ready to fight? We can take them on, no problem.”
Cloud’s head lolled onto Zack’s shoulder. Zack closed his eyes and rested his head on Cloud’s soft spikes.
Two weeks out of Nibelhelm and steadily working their way to Midgar. It amazed Zack how badly he wanted to run straight to Gongaga, like his parents would somehow be able to shelter them from this storm. He left that “hick town”-his words, spoken countless times-years ago, accomplished what everyone told him he would never be able to do, worked under the great General himself (a part of Zack still couldn’t resist laughing bitterly at the memory), and what did he want to do when the going got bad? Run home.
The worst thing was, he still couldn’t convince himself that they wouldn’t be able to help them.
Cloud mumbled something against Zack’s shoulder, and Zack absentmindedly rubbed his back. Sometimes, Cloud spoke coherent words and phrases, but generally, it was only sleepy nonsense. He imagined he could feel Cloud’s breath, warm and moist and smelling of the rabbit Zack had hand-fed him, against his skin, and Zack opened his eyes and concentrated on his surroundings.
The sunlight shimmering through the thick foliage did nothing to help him with his homesickness nor his thoughts of fairy tales. He remembered his mother telling him those fairy tales, telling him of the sleeping princess and the handsome prince who braved all to save her.
But Zack wasn’t the handsome prince. The handsome prince had become the villain, raining death and destruction upon all he came upon.
Zack licked his lips, still tasting the burnt rabbit, and looked around again. “You’ve never been to Corel, have you, Cloud?” he inquired. Sleepy mumbles answered him. He nodded, pretending he understood what Cloud was saying. “Probably was too motion sick to really enjoy it. Well, not like there’s much there to enjoy anyway. You’re a mountain kid, though, so you might like it anyway. Plenty of places to climb there.”
A cardinal flew above them, a flash of red amidst gold and green. Zack followed it with his eyes. The forest here was beautiful but quickly growing sparse, the trees and rich soil tapering off. Soon they would lose what little cover they had, and he would have to keep an earnest eye out for enemies.
The thought made him protectively tighten his arms around Cloud. The blond mumbled again.
“Bet you’ll like Costa Del Sol best, though.” Bet you would have liked Gongaga better. “Beautiful beaches, sunny skies . . .” My mother always told the best stories. “Chicks galore.” Her favorite was the one about the sleeping princess. “We’ll relax there for a while before we have to catch a boat.” You know how she told me the prince woke the sleeping princess? “From there, it should be easy sailing to Midgar.”
With a kiss.
The sudden lump in Zack’s throat quieted him, and he realized dully that he was stroking Cloud’s cheek again. This time, he didn’t pull away. This time, he trailed his fingers down, touching the soft skin that never needed a razor, sliding down to parted pink lips.
The stories never said what happened if the prince went insane. The stories never said anything about the loyal sidekick getting the girl.
Zack quietly leaned down. He was right: Cloud did taste like the rabbit.
And Cloud slept on.
Zack pulled away, his eyes abruptly hot. “Yeah,” he mumbled and then cleared his throat. “Yeah. Costa Del Sol. You’ll love it.”
Maybe if the handsome prince were still here, things would be different.
If the handsome prince had never left, things would be a lot different.
Zack closed his eyes and hid his face in Cloud's hair. Fuck it. Fairy tales never came true, anyway.
Cloud Strife looked like a fairy tale princess.
Laughing to himself, Zachary Stoker brushed a golden strand of hair away from Cloud’s peaceful face. As much as Cloud would kill him for the thought, it was true: soft in sleep, fair features highlighted by the sunlight, Cloud Strife was as beautiful and mythical as the sleeping princess in fairy tales. Unfortunately for Cloud, Zack had never heard of any sleeping princes, so sleeping princess it was.
Zack shook his head. He didn’t go through a forest of thorns for this beauty, but it was close.
Realizing his hand was lingering over Cloud’s cheek, Zack hastily pulled it away. With Cloud reclining in his arms as they rested under the shade of a tall tree, contact was inevitable, but the closeness was not. “Haven’t seen any Shinra goons yet, Buddy,” he said aloud. After he said that, he glanced around, making sure he hadn’t jinxed himself. When only a robin stared back at him, he turned back to the blond in his arms. “We’ll probably see them soon, though. Ready to fight? We can take them on, no problem.”
Cloud’s head lolled onto Zack’s shoulder. Zack closed his eyes and rested his head on Cloud’s soft spikes.
Two weeks out of Nibelhelm and steadily working their way to Midgar. It amazed Zack how badly he wanted to run straight to Gongaga, like his parents would somehow be able to shelter them from this storm. He left that “hick town”-his words, spoken countless times-years ago, accomplished what everyone told him he would never be able to do, worked under the great General himself (a part of Zack still couldn’t resist laughing bitterly at the memory), and what did he want to do when the going got bad? Run home.
The worst thing was, he still couldn’t convince himself that they wouldn’t be able to help them.
Cloud mumbled something against Zack’s shoulder, and Zack absentmindedly rubbed his back. Sometimes, Cloud spoke coherent words and phrases, but generally, it was only sleepy nonsense. He imagined he could feel Cloud’s breath, warm and moist and smelling of the rabbit Zack had hand-fed him, against his skin, and Zack opened his eyes and concentrated on his surroundings.
The sunlight shimmering through the thick foliage did nothing to help him with his homesickness nor his thoughts of fairy tales. He remembered his mother telling him those fairy tales, telling him of the sleeping princess and the handsome prince who braved all to save her.
But Zack wasn’t the handsome prince. The handsome prince had become the villain, raining death and destruction upon all he came upon.
Zack licked his lips, still tasting the burnt rabbit, and looked around again. “You’ve never been to Corel, have you, Cloud?” he inquired. Sleepy mumbles answered him. He nodded, pretending he understood what Cloud was saying. “Probably was too motion sick to really enjoy it. Well, not like there’s much there to enjoy anyway. You’re a mountain kid, though, so you might like it anyway. Plenty of places to climb there.”
A cardinal flew above them, a flash of red amidst gold and green. Zack followed it with his eyes. The forest here was beautiful but quickly growing sparse, the trees and rich soil tapering off. Soon they would lose what little cover they had, and he would have to keep an earnest eye out for enemies.
The thought made him protectively tighten his arms around Cloud. The blond mumbled again.
“Bet you’ll like Costa Del Sol best, though.” Bet you would have liked Gongaga better. “Beautiful beaches, sunny skies . . .” My mother always told the best stories. “Chicks galore.” Her favorite was the one about the sleeping princess. “We’ll relax there for a while before we have to catch a boat.” You know how she told me the prince woke the sleeping princess? “From there, it should be easy sailing to Midgar.”
With a kiss.
The sudden lump in Zack’s throat quieted him, and he realized dully that he was stroking Cloud’s cheek again. This time, he didn’t pull away. This time, he trailed his fingers down, touching the soft skin that never needed a razor, sliding down to parted pink lips.
The stories never said what happened if the prince went insane. The stories never said anything about the loyal sidekick getting the girl.
Zack quietly leaned down. He was right: Cloud did taste like the rabbit.
And Cloud slept on.
Zack pulled away, his eyes abruptly hot. “Yeah,” he mumbled and then cleared his throat. “Yeah. Costa Del Sol. You’ll love it.”
Maybe if the handsome prince were still here, things would be different.
If the handsome prince had never left, things would be a lot different.
Zack closed his eyes and hid his face in Cloud's hair. Fuck it. Fairy tales never came true, anyway.