On the Porch, Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core (Angeal/Genesis/Sephiroth)
Title: On the Porch Author: sphinxofthenile Rating: PG Warnings: Awful, awful crack. Word count: 820 Prompt: Angeal/Genesis/Sephiroth: AU - They're all alive and old and on rockers on the porch Summary: It was a damn good thing Hollander found the cure for their degradation before things could’ve gotten any worse. A/N: All white_jenna's fault.
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“Angeal, bring me a lemonade if you would?” Genesis called from the porch.
“The last time I checked, that was a rocker and not a wheelchair, Genesis,” the younger rolled his eyes, but put a glass for him on the tray of food he prepared for their early dinner.
It was barely seven in the afternoon; the sun was still shining, but the air was getting considerably cooler, much more bearable than the scorching heat of the midday Banora sun. They liked to spend the quiet evening hours outside before retreating into the mansion they shared by the time the mosquitoes and bugs started to get too attentive. What disturbed them was more the cool evening dew though. For, as Genesis liked to put it, any little blood-sucker that was stupid enough to bite them would fall over dead from the mako after the first drop of blood.
From their seats on the porch they could see the village, the small, well-kept houses with their white walls and smoking chimneys. Angeal often felt overwhelming relief that he managed to talk Shinra out of bombarding the place. It was a damn good thing Hollander found the cure for their degradation before things could’ve gotten any worse.
In his new state of health, Genesis returned to Midgar, finally reconciled with Sephiroth, though not before Professor Hojo suffered a sudden accident in his lab involving Apocalypse that caused the sad, untimely demise of the brilliant scientist.
Well, at least that’s how the papers put it.
In the end, what really mattered was that - due to the circumstances - their life suddenly took a turn for the better, something that seemed near impossible just a few weeks earlier while their souls were burdened by so much pain and sorrow and anger and regret and hate. When all of that ceased to matter and they could turn their attention to mending each other’s wounds instead of tearing new ones with every passing day.
Genesis decided he liked the freedom of being rid of Shinra and opted out of the SOLDIER program with a huge golden parachute as compensation (and keeping his mouth shut about his ordeal, of course). He devoted himself to his Banora White Juice empire, travelling all around Gaia; satisfying his exhibitionist streak through writing a series of best selling novels about his days in the war and becoming the spokesman of the Rainbow Society, widely known across the continent for supporting gay marriage.
Angeal, being fed up with Shinra himself, resigned and returned to Banora where he took over supervising the Rhapsodos' orchards and he was not afraid of showing how much he remembered of his training sessions if anyone dared to implore how that was below a former general of SOLDIER.
Sephiroth stayed true to his image and stayed at Shinra, with frequently authorised investigative missions to Banora. What the objectives of those missions were, few knew, but as bedsheets couldn’t tell tales and no one complained about the visits, all was well. No one was really surprised when upon finally retiring the General moved to Banora, and if there were a malicious few whispering about the three of them living together, they couldn’t care less.
“Here,” he put down the tray on the wooden table and sat back into his rocker with a contented little moan, joints protesting against the movement.
“Thank you love,” Genesis flashed him a smile, revealing his even white teeth that thanks to all the mako treatments (and a very good dentist) were still his own. Even closer to seventy than sixty, Genesis retained the fire to his blue eyes, the trademark arrogant smirk and his graceful, albeit at times overly dramatic gestures.
“You know you’re still so beautiful?” Angeal asked with a warm smile.
“You’re just saying that to get into my pants.”
“Like I’ve never been there before,” he rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
“You’ve never been where?” Sephiroth cut in, stirred from his light slumber.
“In Gen’s pants.”
“Hmph. As if,” the silver general chuckled and dozed off again, Genesis looking on fondly.
“Seph and you can have a contest of who has the most grey hair,” he turned to Angeal, teasing.
“At least we all know whom you gave the most gray hairs, kitten.”
Yes, despite all the changes, some things never changed, like their constant verbal warfare and usual teasing, Angeal thought with content. Or their love for each other. Nevermind the hardships they faced, in the end, they all just served to make them realise how close they got to losing each other. It made them see just how lucky they were, the three of them.
“Get off my lawn, you hooligans!” Genesis’ voice suddenly pulled him from his thoughts, the redhead rising from his chair onto unstable legs, shaking his ebony cane at the kids passing by.
Angeal buried his face in his hand. Some things just never changed.