hey can a bro get a smooch
Cloud’s so distracted in tallying out delivery receipts and deposits in his books that he doesn’t notice when Zack (supposedly) swaggers into the bar, even though the bell Tifa put above the door does register somewhere in his mind. He jumps in a fashion—straightening out his shoulders, sitting up with eyes wide—when the other man leans against the counter next to him, says what he does. He chews on the end of his pen as he judges Zack’s dopey grin, the one he’s always had for as long as Cloud’s faulty memories allow him to recall. It warms something in his chest, and suddenly he’s antsy to be out the door and in open air, open space.
Still though—Cloud’s stingy, a curmudgeon on some days, and he’d hate to break from his namesake personality all for a little unearned mercy. He takes the pen out of his mouth, taps his receipts book with it, and doesn’t break the leveled gaze with which he challenges Zack’s casual vibrancy and affectations. The silly man’s eyes are sparkling, and Cloud fears he’s growing ridiculously fond ridiculously quickly. “Y’gonna pay me? S’fifty gil.”
He falters like Cloud expects—jolting into a slump, an exasperated ”Aw, c’mon, Cloud!”—and he warms further, cheeks dusting pink, a laugh in the back of his throat that he swallows down.
He gives in, though. He can’t resist—he’s never been able to resist. He turns into Zack’s space, curls a hand into his shirtfront, pulling him down and into himself. He slots their mouths together, soft, gentle, quick. Pulling back to breathe a simple sigh, and his hands rest themselves along either side of Zack’s face as he kisses him again, a little deeper, a little more assertive, unmistakably devout.
“I guess I could bill you…” he mutters, letting go and shifting away, fingertips touching his lips, reveling in the ghosts of sensation—and all at once the low bar lighting becomes too dull, the air too thin, the space not enough for everything he’s feeling. Like the world needs more of him, more of Zack, more of the both of them together. A sweetly cloying guilt of selfish ambition burdening his morale. Zack is almost too much trouble. He huffs, and can’t keep the smile from his face, so he stands and turns toward the door, work left forgotten as his heart races.
“Hm. You know, debts are for schmucks, and I’m hungry.” He throws the suggestion over his shoulder, peering back at Zack with the kind of stubborn insistence he first learned at his ma’s knee. “So——you can pay me back, now.”
Maybe he’d thrown in another smooch for free, later.
if u don’t take me out we’re gonna have Problems™ @atlaslain
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