[014.] A Certain Sense of Abandonment
Title: A Certain Sense of Abandonment
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Claim: Cloud/Riku
Theme: [014.] Stars
Word Count: 1,769
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The problem (or blessing) with Riku was that Cloud could overanalyze, worry, and spend two months away from Riku at a time, but the second he heard his voice, touched his skin, or felt Riku’s breath against his lips, it was all lost. Cloud forgot his doubts, lived in the moment, and all that existed was Riku and the stars.
Disclaimer: Me and Santa just talked last night and he said he’d bring me the rights to Kingdom Hearts for Christmas, but just as we were about to make it a binding legal contract, Rudolph came down with a nasty case of reindeer-pox, and Santa had to go. Of course I don’t have any rights to Kingdom Hearts. There’s no such thing as reindeer-pox.
Author’s Note: Honestly, this came out nothing like I expected (which often seems to happen with Cloud’s segments). I had planned on more dialogue and less prose. I hadn’t intended on digging into Cloud’s head. I had planned on them actually arriving in Olympus Coliseum. I thought it was going to be longer. I’m happy, though, because it just occurred to me how horrible and awful this is going to make it when Hollow Bastion comes along in prompt 17. Not that I want to torture these poor boys, but I always thought Riku’s story was kind of heartbreaking, and I want that to come across. Heh. *pats self on the back*
If Cloud’s sweaty palms were any indication, he was nervous. Nervous to see Riku again after almost two months of separation with only the cell phones to remain in contact. The worst part of it all was that he wasn’t even sure what he was nervous about. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t talked to Riku since then, or it had been so long that Riku would look like a completely different person. Sure, Riku had been infused with darkness a few times, but Cloud figured he was still Riku; would look, smell, and sound just the same.
Still, Cloud was nervous.
This was typical of Cloud, though, to be nervous around people he needn’t be nervous about. He was nervous every time he saw Aerith, Leon, Yuffie, Tifa, or Cid. His unease with his friends, however, was most often caused by insecurity with himself; Cloud often felt shame seeing them, as well, because he took off for months at a time without checking in. He feared their judgment and disapproval, which Cloud didn’t think would be unwarranted as he often judged and disapproved himself. It just hurt more coming from them.
Perhaps it had something to do with physically being with Riku. Cloud was a solitary person by choice-whether out of shame or enjoyment, he wasn’t sure which-and being away from Riku so long was natural. Missing Riku’s presence wasn’t something Cloud had counted on, because while he missed his friends when away (hence the guilt), Cloud was able to push it aside. They understood. While Riku understood as well, it just wasn’t the same.
Riku was a different situation. He was someone Cloud hadn’t grown up with his entire life; someone who didn’t know everything there was to know about him. In a way, meeting Riku the way he did, it left much room for interpretation, but at the same time, exposed Cloud’s weakest points. It was liberating. There was something about meeting a complete stranger, growing close to him, and getting to know each other while building the romantic relationship that put Cloud at ease.
It was almost like starting over. There was no pressure to behave a certain way, and with Riku’s age and situation, there was no shame. Riku was nothing like Aerith or Tifa, who always knew the right things to do, and actually did them. Riku was much like Cloud, stumbling through situations as they came upon him, and if things went awry, Riku went to Plan B. Riku wasn’t always happy with himself or his situations, and he certainly wasn’t always understanding or sympathetic.
For Cloud, that meant there was never a reason to hide anything from Riku. It also left open the unspoken invitation to express disappointments, regrets, and his inner conflicts between what he was and what he thought he ought to be without a lecture or words of wisdom. Riku would offer advice, but little more, as Riku wasn’t afraid to admit he didn’t always know what the ‘right thing to do’ was.
Cloud imagined he was the same way for Riku-someone who didn’t know Riku before he was lost in the darkness, and had never seen Destiny Islands. If Cloud had grown up there, known Riku before, he might have felt differently about the current situation. He might have been angry about what Riku had done, and called it selfishness instead of knowing that it had been a mistake on Riku’s part, and probably a set-up as well. That didn’t matter, though, because this was the Riku he knew and fell in love with.
In turn, Cloud wasn’t always so withdrawn, so torn about what he thought people expected of him. Since caving to darkness, though, out of a craving to be someone important, something more than ordinary, Cloud found himself humiliated for his actions. Riku wasn’t there for the creation of Sephiroth, and never saw how much Cloud had changed. It allowed Cloud to be more open. Riku didn’t expect anything of him.
In time, he was sure that he and Riku would tell each other everything about what they were like before. They’d exchange stories about the good times when they were still innocent and happy. Still, knowing because you are told and knowing because you were there are two very different things. Cloud would know about Riku because he was told, but Sora would always know what Riku was like before the darkness, and would constantly compare the two whether he meant to or not. Riku would know because Cloud told him, and that could be okay. Aerith and Tifa would always know because they’d been there.
For someone like Cloud, who was used to pulling into himself, this was a bit terrifying. Riku had never met Cloud before the darkness, and therefore, could not be disappointed. The only Cloud that Riku had ever known was the current version, whom Cloud didn’t like all that much and spent a large amount of time wallowing in his own grief. It didn’t matter, though, because Riku loved this Cloud, and Cloud would never be the way he was again.
It seemed fitting; Riku actually wallowed more than Cloud. Riku, however, was naïve, and for all the wallowing he did, it always turned into twisted optimism.
Cloud liked that. When he felt bad about the things he’d done or failed to do, Riku had a new, morbid situation that demanded attention. At the very least, Cloud could always be thankful that he wasn’t Sora or Riku right now.
Which was why-Cloud supposed-his palms were sweating. Riku was nothing more than a person Cloud held very dear to his heart. It was only the two of them. When there comes to be that much significance in one person, things tend to get serious.
For a few days, Riku wouldn’t just mean his boyfriend’s voice, but they’d be together-able to touch each other-and it had been so long since that month on the Gummi ship that Cloud almost couldn’t believe it had actually happened. He carried a lot of fear and doubt about Riku, but also a lot of hope that this relationship would be the right one, the one that stuck. The scariest part about that was that by allowing hope, there is a chance for disappointment.
*
“I’ll be landing in five minutes,” said Cloud, looking out the window of the Gummi. “Can you come out and play, or do I have to wait?”
“I can come,” said Riku. “Maleficent and Ansem have mostly left me alone since telling me about this Keyblade thing. I told them I’d be gone for the next few days to collect my thoughts, so . . . I’ll meet you at the Gummi? The usual place?”
“Yeah.”
“Is this really happening?”
“What?”
“Am I really about to see you?”
“Yeah,” said Cloud. He smiled. Sometimes Riku could be so adorable.
Riku was quiet on the other end. The sound of things shuffling around echoed through the phone and into Cloud’s ear.
“I like that,” said Riku. “I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
“I’m leaving now.”
“Okay. Talk to you when I see you.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you, too, babe.”
Cloud ended the phone call and dropped the phone on the table beside his chair. He peered out of the window, and prepared to land the ship. It was night now, the stars bright in the sky, and Cloud smiled.
Ever since Riku had voiced his (admittedly sappy) sentiment about sharing the same sky, Cloud liked to stare at the stars. It was night during that last conversation, and though Cloud rarely connected the daytime to Riku, when night fell and the stars came out, Cloud’s mind always went to Riku. The darkness of night was much like darkness itself-cold and lonely. A night under the same sky as Riku, no matter how far apart they were, was more comfortable. The stars were, in a way, like Riku these days-the little bit of light that never goes out, and can only be seen in its true, simplistic beauty when all other light fails.
For someone like Sora or even Leon, whose light was strong and blinding, the beauty of Riku’s light couldn’t be seen-all that remained was darkness. For Cloud, that light was a guide-a reminder that nothing was as cold and lonely as it really seemed.
It felt appropriate, stepping out of the Gummi ship under the night sky to meet Riku. He landed in the same spot outside of town as always, stepped out of the Gummi, and smiled upon the sight of Riku walking toward the ship. The gap closed.
Cloud had almost forgotten how breathtaking those eyes were.
Sweaty palms and doubts aside, Cloud snaked his arms around Riku’s waist, pulled him close, and covered his lips with his own. Riku smiled into the kiss and laced his fingers into Cloud’s hair, twisting the strands around his knuckles.
How did Cloud ever survive the last two months without this body in his arms?
Cloud wasn’t the type to throw caution to the wind. He overanalyzed situations until they were dead, sometimes to the point where anything that could have been good was destroyed. Cloud wasn’t the type to live in the moment. He regretted the past and worried about the future, sometimes to the point where he forgot to actually live. Cloud wasn’t the type to focus on romantic context instead of duty. He spent many years alone in the search for Sephiroth, and not for a lack of options.
The problem (or blessing) with Riku was that Cloud could overanalyze, worry, and spend two months away from Riku at a time, but the second he heard his voice, touched his skin, or felt Riku’s breath against his lips, it was all lost. Cloud forgot his doubts, lived in the moment, and all that existed was Riku and the stars.
Sephiroth, Cloud supposed, could wait. He followed Riku onto the Gummi ship, set it on autopilot, and they took off in the direction of Olympus Coliseum.
All nervousness gone, Cloud smiled as Riku dropped into his lap, wrapped his hands around his neck, and pressed his lips to Cloud’s. There wasn’t a need for words right now; there had been enough over the last two months. Right now, all that was needed was a certain sense of abandonment, and Riku-his hands, lips, skin.
For a solitary person like Cloud, it was a foreign emotion-a need for companionship-but this time, Cloud wasn’t complaining.
( Prompt Table) for previous installments.
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Claim: Cloud/Riku
Theme: [014.] Stars
Word Count: 1,769
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The problem (or blessing) with Riku was that Cloud could overanalyze, worry, and spend two months away from Riku at a time, but the second he heard his voice, touched his skin, or felt Riku’s breath against his lips, it was all lost. Cloud forgot his doubts, lived in the moment, and all that existed was Riku and the stars.
Disclaimer: Me and Santa just talked last night and he said he’d bring me the rights to Kingdom Hearts for Christmas, but just as we were about to make it a binding legal contract, Rudolph came down with a nasty case of reindeer-pox, and Santa had to go. Of course I don’t have any rights to Kingdom Hearts. There’s no such thing as reindeer-pox.
Author’s Note: Honestly, this came out nothing like I expected (which often seems to happen with Cloud’s segments). I had planned on more dialogue and less prose. I hadn’t intended on digging into Cloud’s head. I had planned on them actually arriving in Olympus Coliseum. I thought it was going to be longer. I’m happy, though, because it just occurred to me how horrible and awful this is going to make it when Hollow Bastion comes along in prompt 17. Not that I want to torture these poor boys, but I always thought Riku’s story was kind of heartbreaking, and I want that to come across. Heh. *pats self on the back*
If Cloud’s sweaty palms were any indication, he was nervous. Nervous to see Riku again after almost two months of separation with only the cell phones to remain in contact. The worst part of it all was that he wasn’t even sure what he was nervous about. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t talked to Riku since then, or it had been so long that Riku would look like a completely different person. Sure, Riku had been infused with darkness a few times, but Cloud figured he was still Riku; would look, smell, and sound just the same.
Still, Cloud was nervous.
This was typical of Cloud, though, to be nervous around people he needn’t be nervous about. He was nervous every time he saw Aerith, Leon, Yuffie, Tifa, or Cid. His unease with his friends, however, was most often caused by insecurity with himself; Cloud often felt shame seeing them, as well, because he took off for months at a time without checking in. He feared their judgment and disapproval, which Cloud didn’t think would be unwarranted as he often judged and disapproved himself. It just hurt more coming from them.
Perhaps it had something to do with physically being with Riku. Cloud was a solitary person by choice-whether out of shame or enjoyment, he wasn’t sure which-and being away from Riku so long was natural. Missing Riku’s presence wasn’t something Cloud had counted on, because while he missed his friends when away (hence the guilt), Cloud was able to push it aside. They understood. While Riku understood as well, it just wasn’t the same.
Riku was a different situation. He was someone Cloud hadn’t grown up with his entire life; someone who didn’t know everything there was to know about him. In a way, meeting Riku the way he did, it left much room for interpretation, but at the same time, exposed Cloud’s weakest points. It was liberating. There was something about meeting a complete stranger, growing close to him, and getting to know each other while building the romantic relationship that put Cloud at ease.
It was almost like starting over. There was no pressure to behave a certain way, and with Riku’s age and situation, there was no shame. Riku was nothing like Aerith or Tifa, who always knew the right things to do, and actually did them. Riku was much like Cloud, stumbling through situations as they came upon him, and if things went awry, Riku went to Plan B. Riku wasn’t always happy with himself or his situations, and he certainly wasn’t always understanding or sympathetic.
For Cloud, that meant there was never a reason to hide anything from Riku. It also left open the unspoken invitation to express disappointments, regrets, and his inner conflicts between what he was and what he thought he ought to be without a lecture or words of wisdom. Riku would offer advice, but little more, as Riku wasn’t afraid to admit he didn’t always know what the ‘right thing to do’ was.
Cloud imagined he was the same way for Riku-someone who didn’t know Riku before he was lost in the darkness, and had never seen Destiny Islands. If Cloud had grown up there, known Riku before, he might have felt differently about the current situation. He might have been angry about what Riku had done, and called it selfishness instead of knowing that it had been a mistake on Riku’s part, and probably a set-up as well. That didn’t matter, though, because this was the Riku he knew and fell in love with.
In turn, Cloud wasn’t always so withdrawn, so torn about what he thought people expected of him. Since caving to darkness, though, out of a craving to be someone important, something more than ordinary, Cloud found himself humiliated for his actions. Riku wasn’t there for the creation of Sephiroth, and never saw how much Cloud had changed. It allowed Cloud to be more open. Riku didn’t expect anything of him.
In time, he was sure that he and Riku would tell each other everything about what they were like before. They’d exchange stories about the good times when they were still innocent and happy. Still, knowing because you are told and knowing because you were there are two very different things. Cloud would know about Riku because he was told, but Sora would always know what Riku was like before the darkness, and would constantly compare the two whether he meant to or not. Riku would know because Cloud told him, and that could be okay. Aerith and Tifa would always know because they’d been there.
For someone like Cloud, who was used to pulling into himself, this was a bit terrifying. Riku had never met Cloud before the darkness, and therefore, could not be disappointed. The only Cloud that Riku had ever known was the current version, whom Cloud didn’t like all that much and spent a large amount of time wallowing in his own grief. It didn’t matter, though, because Riku loved this Cloud, and Cloud would never be the way he was again.
It seemed fitting; Riku actually wallowed more than Cloud. Riku, however, was naïve, and for all the wallowing he did, it always turned into twisted optimism.
Cloud liked that. When he felt bad about the things he’d done or failed to do, Riku had a new, morbid situation that demanded attention. At the very least, Cloud could always be thankful that he wasn’t Sora or Riku right now.
Which was why-Cloud supposed-his palms were sweating. Riku was nothing more than a person Cloud held very dear to his heart. It was only the two of them. When there comes to be that much significance in one person, things tend to get serious.
For a few days, Riku wouldn’t just mean his boyfriend’s voice, but they’d be together-able to touch each other-and it had been so long since that month on the Gummi ship that Cloud almost couldn’t believe it had actually happened. He carried a lot of fear and doubt about Riku, but also a lot of hope that this relationship would be the right one, the one that stuck. The scariest part about that was that by allowing hope, there is a chance for disappointment.
*
“I’ll be landing in five minutes,” said Cloud, looking out the window of the Gummi. “Can you come out and play, or do I have to wait?”
“I can come,” said Riku. “Maleficent and Ansem have mostly left me alone since telling me about this Keyblade thing. I told them I’d be gone for the next few days to collect my thoughts, so . . . I’ll meet you at the Gummi? The usual place?”
“Yeah.”
“Is this really happening?”
“What?”
“Am I really about to see you?”
“Yeah,” said Cloud. He smiled. Sometimes Riku could be so adorable.
Riku was quiet on the other end. The sound of things shuffling around echoed through the phone and into Cloud’s ear.
“I like that,” said Riku. “I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
“I’m leaving now.”
“Okay. Talk to you when I see you.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you, too, babe.”
Cloud ended the phone call and dropped the phone on the table beside his chair. He peered out of the window, and prepared to land the ship. It was night now, the stars bright in the sky, and Cloud smiled.
Ever since Riku had voiced his (admittedly sappy) sentiment about sharing the same sky, Cloud liked to stare at the stars. It was night during that last conversation, and though Cloud rarely connected the daytime to Riku, when night fell and the stars came out, Cloud’s mind always went to Riku. The darkness of night was much like darkness itself-cold and lonely. A night under the same sky as Riku, no matter how far apart they were, was more comfortable. The stars were, in a way, like Riku these days-the little bit of light that never goes out, and can only be seen in its true, simplistic beauty when all other light fails.
For someone like Sora or even Leon, whose light was strong and blinding, the beauty of Riku’s light couldn’t be seen-all that remained was darkness. For Cloud, that light was a guide-a reminder that nothing was as cold and lonely as it really seemed.
It felt appropriate, stepping out of the Gummi ship under the night sky to meet Riku. He landed in the same spot outside of town as always, stepped out of the Gummi, and smiled upon the sight of Riku walking toward the ship. The gap closed.
Cloud had almost forgotten how breathtaking those eyes were.
Sweaty palms and doubts aside, Cloud snaked his arms around Riku’s waist, pulled him close, and covered his lips with his own. Riku smiled into the kiss and laced his fingers into Cloud’s hair, twisting the strands around his knuckles.
How did Cloud ever survive the last two months without this body in his arms?
Cloud wasn’t the type to throw caution to the wind. He overanalyzed situations until they were dead, sometimes to the point where anything that could have been good was destroyed. Cloud wasn’t the type to live in the moment. He regretted the past and worried about the future, sometimes to the point where he forgot to actually live. Cloud wasn’t the type to focus on romantic context instead of duty. He spent many years alone in the search for Sephiroth, and not for a lack of options.
The problem (or blessing) with Riku was that Cloud could overanalyze, worry, and spend two months away from Riku at a time, but the second he heard his voice, touched his skin, or felt Riku’s breath against his lips, it was all lost. Cloud forgot his doubts, lived in the moment, and all that existed was Riku and the stars.
Sephiroth, Cloud supposed, could wait. He followed Riku onto the Gummi ship, set it on autopilot, and they took off in the direction of Olympus Coliseum.
All nervousness gone, Cloud smiled as Riku dropped into his lap, wrapped his hands around his neck, and pressed his lips to Cloud’s. There wasn’t a need for words right now; there had been enough over the last two months. Right now, all that was needed was a certain sense of abandonment, and Riku-his hands, lips, skin.
For a solitary person like Cloud, it was a foreign emotion-a need for companionship-but this time, Cloud wasn’t complaining.
( Prompt Table) for previous installments.