Necessity [ZackxCloud PwP Oneshot, NC-17]
Title: Necessity
Pairings: Zack/Cloud
Setting: Crisis Core
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: fapfapfap, implied voyeurism.
Word count: +-1300
Summary: A fantasy, a necessity, a foolish wish. Love, lust, admiration, worship, and a hot shower. Oh my.
((crossposted to ffvii_yaoi and zack__cloud ))
There are a number of things you really should not do as a lesser member of Shinra's army.
Standing alone in one of the open shower stalls, hot water pelting your face while you're nursing an erection, courtesy of your instructor, is most certainly one of those things. Cloud Strife, fresh-faced and newly-sworn, was well aware of the fact. That didn't make the problem go away, though.
It had only been a few weeks since cold gray and gunmetal had become the backdrop of Cloud's life. Everything was the same dismal hue there. Light gray, dark gray, shining gray, dull gray, dreary and endless. Delusions were set aside the moment he entered the building, and his hopes became distant memory within the preceding days.
Except, that was, when he saw him. Him, being one Zack Fair. He couldn't be more than two years Cloud's elder, and in every sense his superior. He was strong and agile and, as embarrassed as Cloud might be to admit, so goddamn beautiful. Tan skin and long, dark hair, eyes that stood out with an unnatural gleam- it all came together in a way he couldn't help but love.
He, of course, dare not do more than fantasize. Fawning over your instructor, as he well knew, was grounds for many forms of hell, all of which well-deserved. Cloud, in a normal setting, had easily learnt to ignore the way his heart galloped in presence of the man. He had found a way to, with expert grace, push aside the shudder that wanted to roll through his body when the other spoke.
This particular session, however, had proven to be the exception to his carefully fought rule. He had faltered, fallen behind, lost his step more than once throughout the course. Zack, being ever the concerned teacher, held him after. A bit of extra help, the sort of thing one of his comrades would probably kill for, kind gestures that were killing the tiny blond.
When it was just the two of them, every detail seemed that much harder to ignore. The stains of sweat on Zack's chest, the ripple of a muscle when he demonstrated certain exercises, the friendly smile that was cast Cloud's way when he tried to mimic. What seemed to be genuinely friendly gestures, perhaps even attempts toward friendship, sent already-hectic hormones into overdrive.
Cloud could only thank the gods it was over now, as he leaned back against the dismal gray tiles in the shower stall. He could be thankful, further, that he was alone. Zack was a second class, rumored to be well on his way to first. He wouldn't be there to hide from, and with the length of the extra training, neither would the rest of his instructional group. He was alone, with cold tiles and hot water and his own trembling hands running over a slick, heaving chest.
Had he been in a more lucid state of mind, Cloud might also have stopped to consider that masturbating in an open shower stall was another thing not to do. He could still feel Zack's touch, though, and any common sense was gone. He could swear he the scent was still lingering on him, of body wash and deodorant and sweat, thrilling and intoxicating.
The thoroughly-soaked blond traced his soft padded fingers over the shape of his jaw, down his throat and over collarbone. He yearned for a tough, calloused touch, something closer to what he imagined Zack's hands to be. His own were small, thin, gentle, certainly not Zack's broad, rough soldier hands. Lids drifted shut as Cloud tried to fall into the fantasy, the pretend touch of the man he found himself falling in love with.
He traced creases and curves in soft, wet skin. He could have easily counted too-visible ribs and the thunderous pace of the heart caged within them. His hands continued downward while his head tilted back and a whimper slipped through slightly parted lips. It was Zack, he tried to convince himself again, touching and feeling and exploring.
Cloud imagined hot kisses on his neck. They clung to his body, rolled down his throat and over his chest, endless and furious and passionate. He bit down on his bottom lip when his hand wrapped around shaft, silently screaming the elder soldier's name with the touch. He braced himself more securely against the wall with one arm, the other rolling over his need, gentle, teasing at first.
Zack would touch him this way. He would start slow, whispering promises of pleasure and love in his ear, breath hot on the side of his neck. It would be a shock, just how gentle a man with such strength, such experience could be. He would promise his affections, swear his allegiance to the young blond. It wasn't merely a physical experience, it was love. It was lust. It was a secret necessity shared by the two, each needing the other more than words could say.
The blond moaned through closed lips, catching himself by surprise. His pace picked up, the tile warmed by his own body, shaped into the strong form of his tanned attraction by his own mind. He'd feel Zack's breath on his shoulder, his heartbeat between his shoulder blades, his hard and urgent desire lower still. The movement would become desperate around Cloud, Zack too desperate for his own pleasure to remember just what he was doing.
Cloud's arm moved from the shower wall, fingers slid across his backside. Zack would slip one, then two inside him. He would be gentle, easy on him, and it would feel like heaven already. The fantasy halted abruptly as it began for Cloud, his own hands bringing him to and through powerful release, with Zack's name leaving his mouth before he knew he'd even opened it.
Then, seconds later, his world would stop along with it. A response, from across the room, over the sound of the water rushing around him and blood rushing in his ears.
"...Strife?" The voice was husky, slightly drowned as Cloud felt his knees go weak and his body sink against the shower wall. The blond didn't dare breathe, much less speak. Zack had heard, maybe even seen. Zack knew everything, and Cloud's life was now over.
The footsteps were like thunder, slapping across the wet floor. It was only a few steps- Zack must have been close for a while. Cloud could have cried, trying to think of his excuse. There was none. Not with the tone when he moaned that name, and certainly not with what Zack must have heard before that. He wondered how long it would be, until everyone was telling the story of the faggot recruit, jerking off in the shower while his innocent CO was cleaning off in the stall next.
"Sir, I..." Cloud began an explanation, facing a wall behind which he was sure Zack was standing, probably fighting laughter. He had no words, however, and an awkward silence followed, punctuated only by the sounds of breath echoing and showers running.
"You?" Zack finally responded, stepping into view. He was a sight to be scene, soaked and bare naked, a slight flush to his cheeks. There was still the hint of a smile tugging at his lips when he spoke again, "Didn't you just call my name?"
"Well, uh..." The blond was frantic, and Zack..he was getting closer, hips swaying, hair clinging to the sides of his face, eyes intense. There was no distance, and Cloud was lost, dying, drowning, somewhere far away, his thoughts frantic.
"Well, next time..." the voice was still thick, words spoken an inch from Cloud's ear, "invite me before the party's over, alright?" Zack backed away to flash that smile, the dazzling grin that stopped Cloud's heart. Then, as if nothing had happened at all, he was walking away.
"Wait!" the blond yelped at him, and now his elder did laugh, pausing for just a moment to remind Cloud that, if he did not hurry, he was sure to miss dinner.
Cloud found he had no appetite at all.
Pairings: Zack/Cloud
Setting: Crisis Core
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: fapfapfap, implied voyeurism.
Word count: +-1300
Summary: A fantasy, a necessity, a foolish wish. Love, lust, admiration, worship, and a hot shower. Oh my.
((crossposted to ffvii_yaoi and zack__cloud ))
There are a number of things you really should not do as a lesser member of Shinra's army.
Standing alone in one of the open shower stalls, hot water pelting your face while you're nursing an erection, courtesy of your instructor, is most certainly one of those things. Cloud Strife, fresh-faced and newly-sworn, was well aware of the fact. That didn't make the problem go away, though.
It had only been a few weeks since cold gray and gunmetal had become the backdrop of Cloud's life. Everything was the same dismal hue there. Light gray, dark gray, shining gray, dull gray, dreary and endless. Delusions were set aside the moment he entered the building, and his hopes became distant memory within the preceding days.
Except, that was, when he saw him. Him, being one Zack Fair. He couldn't be more than two years Cloud's elder, and in every sense his superior. He was strong and agile and, as embarrassed as Cloud might be to admit, so goddamn beautiful. Tan skin and long, dark hair, eyes that stood out with an unnatural gleam- it all came together in a way he couldn't help but love.
He, of course, dare not do more than fantasize. Fawning over your instructor, as he well knew, was grounds for many forms of hell, all of which well-deserved. Cloud, in a normal setting, had easily learnt to ignore the way his heart galloped in presence of the man. He had found a way to, with expert grace, push aside the shudder that wanted to roll through his body when the other spoke.
This particular session, however, had proven to be the exception to his carefully fought rule. He had faltered, fallen behind, lost his step more than once throughout the course. Zack, being ever the concerned teacher, held him after. A bit of extra help, the sort of thing one of his comrades would probably kill for, kind gestures that were killing the tiny blond.
When it was just the two of them, every detail seemed that much harder to ignore. The stains of sweat on Zack's chest, the ripple of a muscle when he demonstrated certain exercises, the friendly smile that was cast Cloud's way when he tried to mimic. What seemed to be genuinely friendly gestures, perhaps even attempts toward friendship, sent already-hectic hormones into overdrive.
Cloud could only thank the gods it was over now, as he leaned back against the dismal gray tiles in the shower stall. He could be thankful, further, that he was alone. Zack was a second class, rumored to be well on his way to first. He wouldn't be there to hide from, and with the length of the extra training, neither would the rest of his instructional group. He was alone, with cold tiles and hot water and his own trembling hands running over a slick, heaving chest.
Had he been in a more lucid state of mind, Cloud might also have stopped to consider that masturbating in an open shower stall was another thing not to do. He could still feel Zack's touch, though, and any common sense was gone. He could swear he the scent was still lingering on him, of body wash and deodorant and sweat, thrilling and intoxicating.
The thoroughly-soaked blond traced his soft padded fingers over the shape of his jaw, down his throat and over collarbone. He yearned for a tough, calloused touch, something closer to what he imagined Zack's hands to be. His own were small, thin, gentle, certainly not Zack's broad, rough soldier hands. Lids drifted shut as Cloud tried to fall into the fantasy, the pretend touch of the man he found himself falling in love with.
He traced creases and curves in soft, wet skin. He could have easily counted too-visible ribs and the thunderous pace of the heart caged within them. His hands continued downward while his head tilted back and a whimper slipped through slightly parted lips. It was Zack, he tried to convince himself again, touching and feeling and exploring.
Cloud imagined hot kisses on his neck. They clung to his body, rolled down his throat and over his chest, endless and furious and passionate. He bit down on his bottom lip when his hand wrapped around shaft, silently screaming the elder soldier's name with the touch. He braced himself more securely against the wall with one arm, the other rolling over his need, gentle, teasing at first.
Zack would touch him this way. He would start slow, whispering promises of pleasure and love in his ear, breath hot on the side of his neck. It would be a shock, just how gentle a man with such strength, such experience could be. He would promise his affections, swear his allegiance to the young blond. It wasn't merely a physical experience, it was love. It was lust. It was a secret necessity shared by the two, each needing the other more than words could say.
The blond moaned through closed lips, catching himself by surprise. His pace picked up, the tile warmed by his own body, shaped into the strong form of his tanned attraction by his own mind. He'd feel Zack's breath on his shoulder, his heartbeat between his shoulder blades, his hard and urgent desire lower still. The movement would become desperate around Cloud, Zack too desperate for his own pleasure to remember just what he was doing.
Cloud's arm moved from the shower wall, fingers slid across his backside. Zack would slip one, then two inside him. He would be gentle, easy on him, and it would feel like heaven already. The fantasy halted abruptly as it began for Cloud, his own hands bringing him to and through powerful release, with Zack's name leaving his mouth before he knew he'd even opened it.
Then, seconds later, his world would stop along with it. A response, from across the room, over the sound of the water rushing around him and blood rushing in his ears.
"...Strife?" The voice was husky, slightly drowned as Cloud felt his knees go weak and his body sink against the shower wall. The blond didn't dare breathe, much less speak. Zack had heard, maybe even seen. Zack knew everything, and Cloud's life was now over.
The footsteps were like thunder, slapping across the wet floor. It was only a few steps- Zack must have been close for a while. Cloud could have cried, trying to think of his excuse. There was none. Not with the tone when he moaned that name, and certainly not with what Zack must have heard before that. He wondered how long it would be, until everyone was telling the story of the faggot recruit, jerking off in the shower while his innocent CO was cleaning off in the stall next.
"Sir, I..." Cloud began an explanation, facing a wall behind which he was sure Zack was standing, probably fighting laughter. He had no words, however, and an awkward silence followed, punctuated only by the sounds of breath echoing and showers running.
"You?" Zack finally responded, stepping into view. He was a sight to be scene, soaked and bare naked, a slight flush to his cheeks. There was still the hint of a smile tugging at his lips when he spoke again, "Didn't you just call my name?"
"Well, uh..." The blond was frantic, and Zack..he was getting closer, hips swaying, hair clinging to the sides of his face, eyes intense. There was no distance, and Cloud was lost, dying, drowning, somewhere far away, his thoughts frantic.
"Well, next time..." the voice was still thick, words spoken an inch from Cloud's ear, "invite me before the party's over, alright?" Zack backed away to flash that smile, the dazzling grin that stopped Cloud's heart. Then, as if nothing had happened at all, he was walking away.
"Wait!" the blond yelped at him, and now his elder did laugh, pausing for just a moment to remind Cloud that, if he did not hurry, he was sure to miss dinner.
Cloud found he had no appetite at all.