JL Sigman (jlsigman) wrote in kinkfest, @ 2008-07-28 05:18:00 |
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Current music: | Hans Zimmer - Virtue |
Entry tags: | a: jlsigman, f: final fantasy vii, july 28, p: cloud/zack |
Desperate Times [Final Fantasy VII, Zack/Cloud, R]
Title: Desperate Times
Author: jlsigman
Rating: R
Warnings: angst, technically non-con (although there's no malice behind it), M/M kissing & touching
Word count: 577
Prompt: July 28 - Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core - Zack/Cloud - unconscious Cloud - wake up, stay with me, come back
Zack was running on empty, and he knew it. He'd barely allowed himself to sleep since their escape. The only food he'd had was what he could pull off bushes and trees. But he had to keep going... Cloud was hurt, and the only person he knew who had a chance to fix him was in Midgar, so despite the impossible distance, he had to keep going. It would be much easier if Shinra would just leave him alone.
With a sigh, Zack looked around him for a place to hide for a few hours. There was a rumbling sound in the air that wasn't his stomach, and a bank of clouds promised a good soaking unless he could find some shelter. Luckily, the route he'd been taking wove in and out of the foothills and lower elevations of the mountains, so he was bound to find a cave nearby.
He did find one, eventually, but not until after it had started storming and both he and Cloud were completely wet. He didn't dare start a fire; it would lead his pursuers right to them and he didn't have the energy to fight. He carefully put the unconscious young man down and tried to stretch the knot that had permanently settled into his lower back. He stopped when he saw Cloud shivering.
“Oh, kid, I'm sorry, here, hang on a minute,” he started babbling as he got to work stripping the wet clothing away. Zack didn't notice when Cloud's eyes cracked open, a dull gleam almost hidden behind the thick lashes. He did notice when Cloud weakly tried to pull his arms away.
“Cloud?” He had to struggle to contain the limp resistance. “No, Cloud, it's me, it's Zack, you're OK.” He touched the other's cheek, but the eyes were already closing again, as Cloud retreated back to wherever it was he hid. “No, no, damn it, stay here, please,” he begged.
Desperate to try to get his attention, he ran his hands over the pale chest. Was there a change in breathing? A new flutter in the pulse at the throat? Nose to nose, Zack looked for some hint of life. Their lips barely touched, and Cloud's moved slightly. The dark-haired man took it as encouragement instead of merely reflex. Hands caressing chest and back, he tried to coax a response out of the comatose boy.
He didn't know when, exactly, he stretched out on top of him. He was lost in the feelings, the comfort, of touching someone after so many years in a mako tube. It wasn't until a nearby crash of thunder startled him that he looked down and realized what he'd nearly done. He rolled off, retching, sobbing, begging forgiveness from someone who wasn't there to give it. Utterly exhausted in body and soul, he passed out.
Zack woke several hours later, as the moon rose over the horizon. He carefully dressed himself, then his friend. “I'll get you fixed up,” he murmured, “then I'll make it all up to you, I promise.” Checking the horizon and seeing nothing unnatural, he draped his friend over his shoulder and continued on.