Kingdom Hearts 1. Of Diction and Love

**Of Diction and Love **

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts **

**Rating: PG  
**

**Warnings: Fluff, people. Like, extreme WAFF. And shonen-ai/yaoi, if you didn't already know.  
**

**Pairings: LeonxCloud**

_**Formerly first in the Glasses and Braces Arc.**_

**A/N: You have no idea how long I've been planning this stupid arc. Originally it was just this one fic, but then the nerd!Leon and nerd!Cloud grew on Oblea and I and suddenly we're spitting out ideas for multiple oneshots starring them. **

**EDIT: I have decided to make this into a chapter fic instead of having all of the pieces in separate parts. It feels more complete this way. It will, however, read as though each chapter is a separate fic. So I guess you could say that this is a fic collection. :3  
**

**Leon and Cloud's language is _supposed _to be overly formal and big-wordy. Before anyone crucifies me for saying that teens don't talk like that.**

**A word about Watercolor: I'm kind of iffy about continuing that fic. I just don't feel motivated for it anymore. It is my hope that this collection will get me up and running for it again. If not, I have almost completed planning for another multichapter fic. Which will of course be LeonxCloud. And I think you'll all like the setting for that one. ;D**

**This is for the lovely and talented Oblea, whose help was invaluable with this whole project. :3**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**_Glasses and Braces I_**

**Of Diction and Love**

Dust motes dirtied the sunshine that filtered in through the windows, the metronome of the classroom clock perpetuating the listless hush that ensnared the room. The teacher's voice droned with a desperate edge from its place at the front desk, trying its best to penetrate the horde of pubescent zombies that occupied the creaky desks. It was mid-morning, that sleepy relapse between forced wakefulness and boredom, and all assembled pupils refused to be swayed from their daydreams of curves and joysticks. All save one.

Squall Leonhart's hands were stained, pale skin tarnished with black ink as he penned out perfect notes, diagrams and questions to be asked dotting the lined looseleaf at random intervals. Thickly rimmed glasses framed attentive eyes that darted smoothly across his page, their color a monochrome that reminded one of monsoons in progress. His regulation uniform was neatly pressed and tied in direct contrast to the rumpled ensembles of his peers.

A student who actually cared. It warmed the teacher's heart.

Her voice was fond when she called him by his nickname, a small request she was more than happy to fulfill in exchange for his lone excellence. "Leon, if a child is on a merry-go-round and the speed is doubled, what happens to the magnitude of the centripetal force acting on the child?"

"It is quadrupled, ma'am."

His answer was precise and to the point, and her voice held both hints of spite and pride in it when she addressed the rest of the class. "Well, since none of you deem it necessary to pay attention and Mr. Leonhart obviously gets it, then everyone must be ready for a quiz on centripetal force tomorrow."

The rest of the class managed to stir itself out of its stupor long enough to shoot him looks of death before the bell rang and a flurry of activity erupted.

Leon sighed as he packed his things away, swinging the bag on his shoulder. As usual, he was the last one out and the hall was already a sea of blue plaid and white. No one spared him a passing glace as he walked by groups of laughing friends, ghostlike and alone. Squall Leonhart was by no means popular.

And no, right before a test didn't count.

Suppressing the familiar pangs of loneliness that threatened to drown his heart, he kept going.

Lunch was a quiet and dull affair, taken alone and away from the masses in the sanctity of the library. He was able to get most of the morning's assigned homework done while munching on a turkey sandwich and tapping his foot impatiently. In Leon's life, there was little to be excited or impatient about, but since he'd gotten his schedule changed to all AP classes something new had presented itself. A person who sat near him in AP Biology. Which he happened to have after lunch.

_Cloud._

The brunette had darted out of the library before the bell had finished ringing.

The students filed in slowly, cutting as possibly close to the tardy bell as they could to wrap up conversations. Only a singular figure in the crowd moved with any sort of haste, sliding the black straps of his bookbag off a small frame as he sat in the back near Leon—a single desk to the brunette's left marking the distance between them.

Covertly he watched the figure, retrieving his own materials and setting them on his workspace as the aging teacher finally swept in. Nearby, a purple notebook had found its way onto the blonde's desk, followed by a blue pen and what looked like a small lollipop. Gray eyes roved keenly, noting everything—the small panda clips nestled in the sea of spun gold that kept stubborn strands out of a porcelain face, the dreaded metal bound to white teeth that glinted in the fluorescent light.

To him, Cloud Strife was as radiant as ever. To everyone else, the blonde was every bit as an outcast as he was.

It was in the way they spoke, words found in only the dictionary's dusty corners spilling out as something so natural neither would think them strange. It was in the way they drew their pleasure from a fount of words instead of the spilling of blood on a football field. It was in the way the attention paid to them was akin to a librarian's on bookends: forgettable and dull, yet keeping the pretty text and colorful spines from collapsing at crucial moments.

They were similar, almost eerily so. To Leon, Cloud was someone who could brighten the internal void that couldn't be filled by numbers and theorems. The one that dwelled in a place the brain couldn't reach. The one that stung every time he saw two people together, sharing a feeling that couldn't be analyzed.

The only problem was _how_.

Leon had absolutely no romantic experience. To so many others around him, it seemed to come like clockwork, some remote instinct that he hadn't been deemed primal enough to get. Never before had he found a reason to be jealous of his shallow, childish peers until the moment he laid eyes on Cloud and was failed by logic.

A rhythmic tapping brought him out of his dour musing, and he turned his attention to the blackboard as the yardstick drummed upon it. Even as he worked, he found his eyes drifting to flyaway locks and the movement of his pen stilled.

For the first time in Leon's life, the classwork seemed unimportant.

* * *

The bedside lamp burned bright into the night as he sat before the glowing screen. It was a late hour, but he felt good, awake. Vivaldi's violins sang of springtime to his listening ears. The keys made clacking sounds beneath the pads of eager fingers.

He, Squall Leonhart, was doing something he never did. He was working completely on impulse.

If he had been in a remotely sane frame of mind, he would have done extensive research. He would have immersed himself in tabloids, taking in their cheesy dating advice with a near rabid air. He would have turned to the textbooks, read scientific journals about what colors and phrases stimulated oxytocin or some other such nonsense. Leon did not see himself as a creature of cliché emotion—and yet the feeling that reigned a tragic kingdom in his heart was one that dated to the first time an apple stained Eve's lips red.

Modern primitism, he could argue. But hadn't man surpassed that?

_Pathetic._

Sighing, he scrubbed at his face, relishing the nighttime silence and surveying what he'd written. He was certainly no Shakespeare, though the degree of sap that polluted his brain when he thought of Cloud protested otherwise.

_Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May—_

_Truly_ pathetic.

With a quiet groan, he did a final spellcheck before printing out the missive and turning out the lights. It was difficult to get to sleep, though tired as he was—his heart was racing and wouldn't calm down no matter how many deep breaths he made.

* * *

Cloud Strife was not happy.

For the first time in his life, he'd been late to school—his bedside alarm clock had run out of juice. Usually, this was an event he anticipated and planned for accordingly. However, he had been distracted by a complication in one of his personal projects the night previous and hadn't written a Post-It reminder.

Not that it mattered: his stash was completely empty. Either Sora or Roxas had stolen his batteries—for what, Cloud didn't think he _wanted_ to know.

If that wasn't enough, he'd had a test first period by some twist of cosmic fate. Sure, he was able to complete it in under five minutes, but in sheer irritation he'd made a mistake.

Cloud glared at his graded test paper in disgust.

99.

_99_.

He could kiss his perfect average goodbye.

With a put-upon sigh, he extracted his identification card and warily slid it into the gap his locker door made with the partition. Nothing. For once, no one had sought to spite him by gluing it shut, and in a slightly better mood he twirled the dial in deft fingers.

The blonde was quite surprised to find a hint of white atop his green Bio book.

Curious, his slotted his bag into the lower half of the locker and removed the object from the shelf. It was an envelope, ordinary crème with his name penned in elegant script. Uncertain as to whether or not this was a joke, he brought it to his nose—and was surprised to catch a whiff of sweet-smelling cologne.

_Now_ he was interested.

Fate, however, decided to laugh at him a little more—the bell rang and somehow sounded shriller that it ever had before. With a sigh, he grabbed his things for second and third period and slotted the envelope into a textbook. He'd open it later, he promised himself.

A quiet moment shouldn't be too hard to find, right?

* * *

_Wrong_, Cloud thought bitterly as he sat in his room, fingering the _still_ unopened envelope.

Something bad must have happened in the faculty room, because all the teachers were in pissy moods and had assigned exorbitant amounts of classwork—which for Cloud, who usually sat bored in class after finishing the work in ten minutes, was saying something. The innocent piece of paper had burned a hole in his pocket all day, and he'd been scheduled to do service in the English room at lunch so he hadn't even been able to open it then. People on the bus had a creepy habit of peering over your shoulder, and with the way his luck was going today it probably would have blown off somewhere if he'd done it while walking.

But he was alone now, in the privacy of his haven.

His oasis.

His _sanctum sanctorum_.

And absolutely _nothing_ was going to interrupt him now.

With bated breath, he carefully nudged a small pen-knife under the envelope's flap and slid it across, trying to resist the temptation to just rip the thing open. The flap came loose and then free, exposing a sheet of expensive-looking paper. It was textured to the touch and a small breath of wonder escaped Cloud as he pulled it out.

Who would use paper like this to write him _anything_?

He unfolded the note. And promptly lost control of his respiratory functions.

_Dear Cloud,_

_ Good afternoon. I hope this finds you well. It is necessary to apologize for the abruptness of this missive, for it is not something that was planned out for a significant amount of time. However, it expresses something that I have been desirous of for several weeks and that I have found myself unable to repress. I would like to inquire if you would in fact be in agreement to venturing out with me to a nearby place of my choosing for lukewarm beverages accompanied by foods loaded with carbohydrates. You are very aesthetically pleasing to my optical nerves, and though we have never spoken prior to this I imagine I would quite enjoy conversation with your person. Please forward a response to this message as expeditiously as is possible for you.  
_

_- Leon_

The blonde's eyes widened.

Nimble fingers dropped the letter like it was on fire as he dove for his nightstand with a near desperate air. His throat was tightening, mucus sealing off his air, palms emitting perspiration at abnormally frequent intervals and the room seemed to have spiked a thousand degrees. His breathing increased—no matter the pace, relief wouldn't come and he knew that his lips were a sickly azure.

Of _course_ the little drawer resisted his pulls, but a particularly violent tug yielded its twofold cache.

Cloud jammed the inhaler mouthpiece into his mouth and depressed the canister, deeply breathing the medicine in. He held it for the required ten seconds—then weakly pulled the paper bag over his mouth and breathed for dear _life_.

Someone must have heard the bag crinkling, because Sora stuck his head in, took one look at the pathetic sight and yelled downstairs to his fraternal twin. "Roxas!"

A muffled "what" came from the general direction of the kitchen.

"Get up here. Something's wrong with Cloud."

The sarcasm dripping from the blonde's louder reply was evident from half a house away. "Did he lose his lucky pencil again?"

"He's using the bag."

Silence. Creaking on the stairs, then Roxas' swirly head peeked over the threshold. "Dude, you broke out the bag?"

Without waiting for permission, the duo fully entered the room. To their eyes, everything was immaculate as usual: books stacked in size place order, pencils arranged by the electric sharpener from dull to pointy, picture frames and the edge of the dresser forming perfect ninety-degree angles. The only imperfection was the solitary paper on the otherwise clean carpet.

"Hey, what's that?"

Cloud lifted his head from the pillow of his arm, following Sora's pointed finger to what could be nothing else but Leon's letter, fluttered to the floor. Roxas, watching Cloud watch Sora, saw something in those normally blank blues that poured a wave of kerosene on a fizzing spark of hope.

_Panic._

"Sora."

It was truly pathetic, Cloud reflected as he beat limp-noodle limbs on his brother's back, that he couldn't throw off the skin and bone that comprised his youngest sibling. It was only the school policy that kept his perpetually low string of gym grades from downing his obscenely high average: Phys Ed wasn't counted in. Nonetheless, for the first time in his life he wished he was Sephiroth, the Adonis-bodied quarterback of the school team. He would have been able to toss Sora's dead weight like paper and stop Roxas from _knowing_.

A grin he didn't like was spreading over the blonde's face.

"Well, what does it say?" Sora was like jello atop him, wiggling to and fro from his stationary spot. "Dude, come on!"

"_I would like to inquire,_" Roxas began reading in a deeply obnoxious voice, "_if you would in fact be in agreement to venturing out with me to a nearby place of my choosing for lukewarm beverages accompanied by foods loaded with carbohydrates..._"

Cloud closed his eyes in humiliation as the brunette's words were repeated in full, the pale blob that pinned him down seeming caught between shock and wonder. When Roxas finished, however, the uproarious amusement that he expected didn't come.

He opened one blue eye.

The letter was held tightly in the younger blonde's crème hand as he joined his brothers on the bed. Sora moved off the eldest quietly, and the two did something they hadn't done since he was seven and his pet iguana died. The curve of two small bodies fit to his back and front, self-slotting pieces to a puzzle that for once, he couldn't solve.

"Dude," Roxas said quietly behind him, "You know Leon, right?"

Of course he knew all about the love letter's author: Squall Leonhart was about the only person in their facsimile of a learning institution who possessed a hint of sense. Like the older blonde, the senior took perfect attendance as personal pride and dragged himself to school no matter how crappy he felt. In his tenacity he was a constant for Cloud. No matter what changed in life, he could always count on the stoic brunette to be there, sitting a desk's distance in seventh period AP Bio.

"Yeah."

"Cloud..." Sora's intense blue eyes—a quarter hue from his own—bored into him. "Me and Roxas are kinda worried about you."

"Roxas and I," he corrected on quiet autopilot. Sora shook his head.

"Right."

"What Sora's trying to say is that...we've been watching you and yeah, we're worried. At school, you don't do anything but schoolwork—"

"Which is wrong, by the way."

"—and the only time you're with someone is when we come find you. You don't hang out, Cloud. You don't go anywhere. All you do is lock yourself in the basement with your chemicals and do whatever the hell you do down there. This isn't healthy, dude. And it's not just us, either. You're upsetting Mom."

Cloud couldn't bring himself to look any higher than the smooth curve of Sora's nape as Roxas finished speaking, sudden unease making him queasy. Mother was upset? He wouldn't know it from the pride she took in arranging his trophies and metals, her joy every time she attended a conference at school. He was making the grades he'd need for the bright future she wanted for them all. So he was a social wallflower. He honestly didn't see the issue. But if she was upset...

"Look..." Sora began, and he felt it then: the gentle thread of careful fingers through layers of sunshine blonde. "We're all really proud of you, okay? You work really hard and you deserve every good thing you get. But...Cloud, you're a senior. A few more months and you're leaving. You were accepted everywhere you applied, you have several full scholarships to really good places, and you're probably going to get a lot of job offers for whatever you want to do after college. You don't have to work anymore."

The brunette sounded unusually sad. It twisted Cloud's heartstrings. "High school doesn't come back, you know. Don't you think you should spend some time on yourself?"

There was silence for a while, the twins letting their words digest and Cloud trying to blink back tears he couldn't explain.

"And dude, Leon's really smart too. Aren't you guys battling it out for valedictorian in June?" Roxas finally asked, his voice encouraging.

"Yes."

"Exactly. So you can talk about science-y stuff. You know. Maybe he could come over one day and help you in your lab. I know you've been having problems with your pet projects. And stay for dinner. It'll be fun. Besides, you're eighteen. I think it's about time you got fu—"

_"_Rox_-as!"_

"—er—_fermented_ yourself into a meaningful relationship."

"...you want me to convert sugars into cellular energy and produce carbon dioxide as metabolic waste?"

Sora snickered. "I think he meant _cemented_, Cloud."

"...oh."

"We're not asking you to jump into bed with him, or anything, but Leon likes you and he's really nice. Besides, he's only asking for one informal date," the brunette soothed. Roxas' hand moved to his shoulder and squeezed once.

"But I don't know what to do," Cloud replied, voice small.

"Just talk to him. You'll be fine."

Conversation died with a reassuring squeeze and they lay together for a while longer, twin butterflies alighting on his cheeks before the bed groaned in relief at the absence of weight. It was a while before he moved, and even then it was only far enough to pick up a pen and piece of paper.

* * *

_Dear Leon,  
_

_I must admit that your missive was quite unanticipated and accepted with a healthy measure of trepidation. However, upon careful introspection, I am now overjoyed by your invitation and would thus accept it with great pleasure. Perhaps we may meet after our scheduled learning period to discuss these future plans? My respiration rate increases greatly in your presence, almost to a near dangerous level, but I am sure with inhaler in hand I can survive. My health is of equal or perhaps even lesser value to the thought of occupied time with you.  
_

_ - Cloud_

Leon reread the message that afternoon for the umpteenth time, inwardly jumping to and fro in a rather undignified expression of glee. Honestly, when he'd slipped the thing into the blonde's locker he'd been expecting a polite refusal at best and total disregard at worst. Instead he'd been blessed with a neat square of looseleaf, nowhere as fancy as the bond paper he'd used but equally precious.

He resolved to laminate and frame it at the nearest possible opportunity.

Work complete early—as usual—he pulled out a square of origami paper and began the folding that he'd practiced endlessly the night before. It was his favorite time of day: to his left sat Cloud, finishing up what Leon could glimpse as the last assigned problem. Their usual teacher was out with the flu and the substitute had promised to leave them to their own devices after completing the given worksheet.

Which was perfect for Leon.

Cloud set his pen down with a sigh, happy to be finished. AP Bio was among the few mild challenges that he underwent in school, and the sheer amount of work assigned for it had become an annoyance. Today was a welcome reprieve, though...another good thing in what was shaping up to be a streak.

His cheeks flushed cerise as he remembered the easy way his return message had fallen into the locker. He'd been hyperaware of Leon's presence since class had started, registering the smooth movements of his black ink pen, the set expression, the occasional push of thick-framed glasses up an aristocratic nose...

A sudden movement on his desk pushed him from his rather embarrassing thoughts. Cerulean eyes looked down at the foreign object and cautious hands picked it up with care. It was an origami flower, delicately made with red paper, and he could glimpse black writing within the folds of the structure.

It looked so pretty he was loath to open it, wanting to preserve its fragile beauty. There was only one person who could have sent it, as well: its positioning spoke of an origin to his right and the thought made his heart race.

_If this afternoon is convenient for you, would you convene with my person near the fountain after the close of our designated learning period for a short walk and coffee at a nearby establishment?_

Cloud read it and reread it again, just to be sure he was seeing right. And then a smile curled the corners of his lips—and to the covertly watchful Leon it was a beautiful smile, braces and all.

Aurulent hair moved freely about as he turned his head, the panda clips' absence letting sunshine frame sapphire. The smile was still in place as he gave a short nod, a pleasure that had never come with any award welling up in his chest.

He, Cloud Strife, had just received his first note.

* * *

At precisely three thirty, two figures ambled to the proud fountain in the middle of the spacious lawn. If not for the rather prominent coif of the shorter one they might have missed each other: the fountain was a popular spot at any time of day, but it saw the most activity at the close of daily classes. The figures exchanged timid greeting, making their way as a pair down the paved pathway that split the well-kept land. As per unfortunate but true fact, both went unnoticed to the students assembled—all save two.

Twin indigo eyes watched the retreating silhouettes with palpable satisfaction, the melding of minds that only twins could achieve uniting them in their imminent task. The second the figures were out of sight, grass blades flattened to the earth as hasty feet trampled them over.

* * *

The shop was cool and dimly lit, rows of bookshelves separating them from the rest of the world. It was one of those places whose name had been lost to time, whose only identification was in the fade of print and the taste of tartlets. It was in this bookshop-bakery that Leon had spent many contented hours, diligently reading or sampling new patisserie. And it was here that he led his companion, relishing the familiar clear-headed feeling that came with complete ease.

A weight seemed to vanish from his burdened shoulders.

Cloud seemed fascinated by the atmosphere as they sat, Leon's choice of a corner table letting them watch the room. The blonde's iced coffee—picked and paid for by Squall Leonhart, thank you very much—was cradled in small fingers, cooling them from the heat of the outside sun. As usual, business was pleasantly slow, browsers perusing the material on the front shelves in slow, lingering strides.

"I hope that this selected establishment is acceptable to your tastes, Cloud." The brunette said quietly, voice sounding with a nervous quaver. Cloud's attention became attentively fixed on him and he swallowed, feeling pinned under that cool blue stare.

"It is...quaint." The blonde smiled, flashing metal and white, and Leon's heart gave a strange palpitation. "I find it very much to my liking. Thank you."

He smiled back.

Silence reigned for long moments, a silence born of observation. The liquid level in Cloud's plastic cup diminished as they sat, cherry lips curling around the bendy straw and cerulean eyes lowered demurely. Leon felt like an idiot—he knew he was wasting Cloud's time with his hesitance and flushing his chances down the proverbial drain. Yet every time he opened his mouth the most minor action stole his breath: the threading of pinkened fingers though strands of captured sunshine, the flickering of a cornflower iris as it took in the details of the room.

Finally, Cloud's straw was sucking nothing but air. The brunette was out of time.

"Cloud."

Blue eyes snapped up to meet his. "Yes?"

"I..." Slowly, _slowly_, trembling fingers moved to cover a smaller hand. Cloud's hand was chilly from cold plastic, the coolness refreshing to his sweaty digits. He took a deep breath, in and out. "I've observed you for a quite significant quantity of time, Cloud."

The surprise in each iris was evident, circling the scatter of light that evidenced the creature before him. Cloud's reply was slightly breathy, as if he'd been running mental miles and was too tired to speak with strength. "You have? I don't...I don't _understand_, Leon."

His breathing quickened, frantic lungs failing to wake a brain in stasis.

To others, the statement was something natural, a mere wish for clarification. But for those who were as they were...only someone like them could understand the cost of those words. To not understand was a fate worse than death, one that spelled life in neutral behind a fast-food register while an educated world passed them by.

He could barely believe that the blonde was taking him seriously. Sure, Cloud's return message made certain the fact that he felt _something_, but the brunette had thought...

He'd thought Cloud wouldn't want him. Just like no one else did.

"Yes. Since...since you transferred into my classroom. I wasn't aware that you existed before that." Leon cast his gaze to the table, mildly embarrassed at his next statement. "I feel as though I've wasted time. By not knowing."

The blonde smiled, a small, bittersweet smile. Even his braces appeared to have lost luster. "I'm not astonished at your lack of notice. Only my brothers seek me out during school hours. It never really troubled me until you sent your missive."

He tightened his grip on the limp fingers, digits that had yet to respond. "We are a lot alike."

Sea met darkened sky. "Leon, what do you desire from me?"

Words failed him, his mind a drenched dictionary with meticulously penned reason running in rapid rivulets. Cloud seemed closer than he had a minute ago, close enough for Leon to see emerald flecks in the other boy's iris. Then everything fazed out of focus.

A year ago—month ago, even—Leon would have described passion as the feeling one got after solving a problem, making a model, writing an essay. The feeling a runner got after a second gold medal, the reassurance that honed skill hadn't vanished between races. That wasn't it, he knew now.

It was the puzzle of Cloud's soft lips, slotting and filling an obvious void that his mind had somehow missed.

"I want to see you exclusively. For an extended period of time," he said softly against the blonde's lips, which were still with shock. "Please consent."

The sudden sight of sadness in those bright eyes was more than a little discouraging. "Leon, I have never seen anyone. I do not have any knowledge of what to do."

"I do not, either," he said gently, as if coaxing a frightened bird to take seeds from his palm. In truth, the thought of a real relationship was more than a little daunting. Leon was not used to looking out for another person. His father irritated him to the point of insanity. His mother was...well, she wasn't around. He had no siblings. Or relatives. Or friends. There was no one in his life for him to concern himself with. And suddenly he was signing himself up for a responsibility that he had no clue how to handle.

Love had no science.

"But I am willing to attempt."

Cloud hesitated for several long moments, long enough for a vat of dread to brew itself within Leon's stomach. But then the blonde leaned forward, just a little. And their lips met once more. It was clumsy and a little awkward—both pairs of eyes were open and Leon's frames pushed uncomfortably into the blonde's pale skin. But it was perfect.

Their type of perfect.

"Okay."

* * *

It was very cramped under that table. Very, very cramped. So much so that Sora couldn't move without his elbow or knee lodging itself into a very sensitive place on his twin's anatomy. The small dose of guilt made the position even worse—both he and Roxas knew that they shouldn't be watching this. It was a very private, very important moment for their older brother, one that deserved to be preserved in Cloud's memory and Cloud's alone.

That didn't stop the uproarious laughter the second their targets left the shop, hands shyly entwined.

**_Fin_**


	2. Of Troubles and Truth

**Of Troubles and Truth **

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Rating: PG-13**

**Warnings: Slight Violence, Language**

**Pairings: LeonxCloud**

**A/N: Well, here we are with the second installment! As some of you have noticed, I have scrapped the arc-arc idea and instead have chosen to make it all into one fic. The chapters will read as they were originally meant to, however, which would make this more of a sequenced fic collection than anything else, I suppose. Technically, it's still an arc, just...together. xD **

**About the Shukumei contest—I didn't realize until after that there were actually two Crisis Core references instead of one. So, the winners of the contest are both Inami and Lady Gunblade, for respectively catching the Loveless and the "Cloud, run!" references. This installment is dedicated to both of them. (They were also the only reviewers for that fic, a thought that depresses me.) Amethyst Grey also gets a dedication for one of the most beautiful reviews I think I've ever gotten. **

**And as usual, everything I write is dedicated to my lovely and talented Oblea. :3**

**Another thing I wanted to mention – I recently started a LJ for the sole purpose of letting my readers know what's going on with me and my progress on my fics. So people don't think I'm, you know, dead or something. The Homepage link on my Bio goes there, so check it out when you get a chance. :3**

**Um, things to look out for. There are an epic bunch of allusions to things that will happen in the arc's future. Two cool FF people make their first appearances. And...yeah. xD**

**Well, I hope all of you enjoy this one, and look forward to the upcoming installments. Don't forget to drop me a review line when you're done. :3**

* * *

**_Glasses and Braces II_**

**Of Troubles and Truth**

The sun shone brightly over the emerald green grass, its rays disrupted in curious patterns by the swaying of leaves in the wind. It was an unusually warm day for mid-March, and the only jackets that could be seen were at one particular table—the marks of the high-school elite.

Including their leader.

It seemed as if this day had been made to backlight his glory: sunshine highlighted his metallic locks in meticulous detail, playful sprites of wind rippling it behind him like a silky cape. His bangs cast his eyes into shadow, but that only served to lend an air of mystery, subtle and alluring. The foliage was undone by his eyes' intense green, the pale white of the garden's pansies put to shame by his skin's moonlit hue. He exuded confidence. He radiated charisma. He _oozed_ attraction.

And yet, he reflected to himself, all he seemed to draw in were steroid-ridden retards and vapid bubble-gum bitches. Otherwise known as the football and cheerleading teams.

Sephiroth sighed from his spot at the table's dead center, taking in the conversations around him with a disinterested air and fielding all attempts to draw him into them. Yes, it was always nice to be the center of focus, and the vain side of him that'd been nurtured by his mother was thriving on the attention.

On the other hand...the only reason he tolerated these people was because of the emblem on his varsity jacket. It had been his choice to join the team in sophomore year out of sheer boredom—and all it had done was acquire him an even larger entourage than those that had followed him for his beauty. He was still bored, moreso than ever, and an opportunity for amusement didn't look to be forthcoming anything soon.

With another put-upon sigh, he let his eyes roam the large lawn before they fixed themselves upon another silver head. His brother had had much better luck in finding intelligent friends, despite their mother's protests that he looked like a painted fool—Riku seemed perfectly happy with the group he hung out with, makeup and all. The Strife twins in particular had invaded the Yamani home more than once, and Jenova hated them. Quite ironic, really, when they possessed more intelligence in their smallest toes than all of Sephiroth's friends combined.

Speaking of Strife...

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed as he scanned the expanse of grass for the oldest child.

Cloud didn't even register a blip on the school's radar, and yet his hair made him laughably easy to spot. Predictably, he had been denied the privilege of a picnic table and was eating under a large tree, school bag lying on the ground beside him. If it was an ordinary day, Sephiroth would have merely snorted at the somewhat pathetic sight and turned his attentions elsewhere. However, something caught his notice that stirred the first bubbles of anger in his blood.

Cloud wasn't alone.

Now, this fact by itself wasn't enough to anger the quarterback. If by some miracle of the Goddess the blonde's pathetic social skills had drawn in a friend, all the more power to him. Said friend didn't appear to be anyone particularly cared about, an equally inept-looking brunette with thick-framed glasses and an acceptable face. It wasn't even the fact that Cloud was obviously enjoying himself with this mystery guy.

It was the fact that the two were more than friends.

Much more.

Now, said tidbit of information was something that most wouldn't pick up on (assuming they cared enough to look). But Sephiroth had enough practice with girls attempting to hide their sleeping with so-and-so behind whoever's back. He knew the signs, and they jumped out at him now: the duo was abnormally close, heads bent intimately and back positioned to the lunch crowd as if asking all not to disturb, please and thank you.

Sephiroth even caught the sporadic twitching of their fingers, as if aching to grab the other's to hold.

_You would not accept me, Cloud. Yet you take this person._

Suddenly unable to stand the clueless conversations around him, he abruptly stood and left, ignoring the alarmed cries for him to wait.

He'd found something to do, alright.

* * *

The weather itself seemed to approve as they sat at its mercy, shady branches shielding the pleasant warmth above from becoming excessive heat. A cool breeze reminded them that March's ides were still afoot, but it served more to soothe than to chill the frame. The grass felt soft and downy instead of its usual prickliness, and for the first time the tiny ache to be at a table of friends had dissipated completely.

Comfortable silence hung between them, conversation having ceased for the moment and each wrapped up in their own thoughts. Cloud's gaze was to the sky, his namesakes lazily drifting across the blue expanse, but despite the tranquil scene he felt internal unease. They had one week so far, one paltry, trivial, pathetic week—and already his whole routine had distorted itself into something unrecognizable. If he believed in such things, he would have sworn that Yuffie had turned occult and was casting her spirit on him to make him a clumsy, uncoordinated fool.

Lines of dry history seemed to dance before his eyes, reading like poems and nonsensical nothings. Numbers that made perfect sense rearranged themselves until he calculated caricatures of a smooth, defined face. Steady hands, deftly transferring a lab class corrosive, began to quiver with the faintest thought of gray eyes and the end result was a hole in the table.

His mother hadn't been pleased at the bill.

Life at home hadn't even been a reprieve from the nonsense. In lieu of his usual gracefulness he'd been tripping and stumbling over everything, a constant source of amusement to his brothers. And he'd earned himself a lifetime ban from the kitchen after four shattered glasses, two piles of toppled cookbooks, seven spilled liquids, and one quivering knife embedded into the kitchen wall. He was _still_ trying to figure out how that one had happened.

Cloud couldn't concentrate on _anything_.

The blonde let out an inaudible sigh, still staring up but not really seeing. His distraction was beginning to show up in his grades and the last thing he needed was for his dream college to see the drop and rescind him because of Leon. _Something_ needed to be done.

He was broken out of his thoughts by a tentative hand, cautious fingers tracing his knuckles in careful circles. Leon's hand was warm and his touch gentle; despite Cloud's prior thoughts he couldn't stop the rush of affection that flowed into his chest. Their fingers laced together with a reassuring lock and he leaned closer, seeking more of that warmth.

Spending lunch outside with the brunette had certainly been more interesting than spending it in the library alone. He'd been surprised to know that he and Leon had spent all this time a bookshelf away, and the thought that he could have had a friend _years_ ago was a little saddening. Nonetheless, the sunshine had held too strong a pull for even them, and it had lead to soft conversation and the most deliciously moist brownies with macadamia nuts that Cloud had ever tasted. While he wasn't one for foods with excessive carbohydrates and proteins like brownies, he wasn't going to refuse anything Leon offered.

Especially if he was consuming it off the other male's utensil.

"Cloud?" Leon's voice held soft inquiry, breaking him out of his pleasant reverie. The blonde turned his head. "Are you well? You seemed...distant for several moments."

The bell rang in the distance, spurring a flurry of movement from the assembled students. "I am quite fine, Leon." Cloud stood slowly, like a foal tottering on its first legs, eyes smarting slightly from the blur of moving colors awash in the blinding sun. "Simply lost in thought." He offered a small smile, watching the older male's expression soften. "I didn't intend to worry you."

Cloud turned to collect his bag, dusting the small amounts of dirt and stray grass blades off it with sharp motions. He heard the brunette moving about behind him as they prepared to leave, but he wasn't expecting the hand that shyly caught his, stopping his progress.

"You...you would tell me if anything was wrong, right?" the brunette asked, tugging him a little closer with an eye on their surroundings. There weren't many other stragglers around, and the few there paid them no attention.

"Yes," he replied quietly. In truth, he hadn't been planning on saying anything. There wasn't exactly a way to talk about the recent happenings without coming across as some kind of lovesick idiot. Leon certainly didn't seem to be burning holes in tables.

The brunette seemed placated, however, and Cloud smiled again as he was pulled into a short but sweet kiss. He would worry about the other things later. Right now, he was where he wanted to be.

* * *

Cloud was acting strange.

Those four words seemed to reverberate around and around, making spring boards of the walls of his mind before diving to the depths of his heart, leaving bewildered ripples in their wake. His appetite was nonexistent as he poked at his chicken, the silence torn to pieces by his father's incessant chatter.

Ice had been touched by the faint strains of spring, the air becoming heavier with faintly green aromas and promises of color. The tang and zest of academia in winter was tapering into a dull humdrum, rendering the students despondent and the teachers vague. Even those at Leon's speed were beginning to tire: neat rows of numbers turned opaque in the flutter of emerging butterflies. Cloud seemed to be suffering from more than spring fever, however, and thoughts of the possible problem were making him anxious.

Leon possessed no knowledge of friendship's semantics, and to learn he had observed the readily available subjects around him. Finding information on the typical relationship had been no different a situation and he approached this investigation with his usual thoroughness. What he deduced had been enough to give birth to a wide array of frightened notions, fears that he had worked hard not to show that day in the little bookstore.

But being with Cloud was like nothing he had seen or felt: neither the simpering worship nor the almost cruelly beckoning tolerance that one partner held for another.

Cloud was every bit as mentally stimulating as Leon guessed he would be, and finding out that he wasn't the only one with pages of private theories was nothing short of cathartic. They'd spend hours talking about personal findings and complaining about the slowness of school. For the first time the brunette felt connected to someone. Working alone at home suddenly didn't feel the same.

They hadn't passed the friendship stage yet, outside of hand-holding and the occasional kiss. Yet, he found he didn't mind: neither possessed the lust-ridden dispositions of their slightly unhinged classmates.

What he did mind, however, was the earlier look of confusion that had been etched all over Cloud's face. The blonde had said he was fine and was perfectly receptive to his small affections. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, however, and it disturbed him.

Odd squelching noises brought Leon's gaze up from his now deformed poultry to meet a saggy-looking fortress made of...mashed potatoes. An eager hand was wielding a fork with child-like enthusiasm, and the teen had to suppress an exasperated sigh.

"See, Leon?" Laguna's voice was its usual degree of peppy, and a goofy smile was stretched across his handsome features as he eagerly heaped up the puréed substance. "I made a fortress!" Jade eyes shined.

Leon gave the structure a once over before looking back down at his unsightly plate. "It will collapse in a short time period," he said dismissively. "The foundation is too unstable."

"Nonsense, son, I made it with the utmost—" There was a slopping noise as the potatoes toppled over. "—care. Damn." A distinct pout was on the journalist's face, an expression that looked somewhat unnerving to Leon on a man pushing fifty.

The younger brunette said nothing.

Laguna picked up his fork, shooting Leon a worried look. "Something wrong, son? You're quiet tonight." A wry chuckle. "Well, more so than usual."

Gray eyes flashed as he pondered the question, fork moving across porcelain in idle motions. Leon had always had problems talking to Laguna, especially after the...situation with his mother. But he couldn't deny the growing urge to discuss Cloud with someone, especially after today's episode.

"I made a...friend."

Urge or not, however, Leon wasn't stupid. There was no way in hell that he was exposing the nature of their connection to Laguna. The man would turn paparazzi on him and he'd never be able to bring Cloud over.

They'd have no peace.

Leon thought of his father's hidden microphones and shuddered.

_"Really?"_ Laguna looked nothing short of ecstatic, and the thought that making friends shouldn't be momentous caused a small pang of bitterness within him. He quickly pushed it away in alarm when his father all but leaped over the table, nearly spilling a glass of water in his rush to reach his son. "Who are they? What are they like?"

Strong hands grasped the teen's shoulders before pulling him into a tight hug. Leon was frozen in place at the sudden display of affection and it took him several minutes to recover. "I'm so proud of you, son," the man whispered into chocolate locks, squeezing him tighter. "I was so worried that we'd scarred you—Raine and I."

He stiffened at the mention of his mother, but said nothing.

"But I—I'm happy for you, Leon." Laguna squeezed him once more before letting go, eyes warm. The teen watched as his father dropped into the adjacent seat, pulling his plate across the table and digging in. "So, tell me, what are they like?"

The question gave him pause, as he debated the best way to answer it. "We have a lot in common," he said at last.

"A bookworm like you, you mean," his father said sagely. "Guy, girl, amoeba, what?"

"He is male, dad," Leon answered, resisting the childish impulse to roll his eyes.

"Made any plans yet? You know, something fun?"

Plans.

He and Cloud hadn't done anything special since they'd started dating, content to spend the few minutes before classes and their lunch periods together. There had been several phone conversations as well and chatting online about this or that, but that was the extent of it. Leon felt mild panic rise in his chest. Should he have taken Cloud somewhere nice? Was that normal?

"Leon?"

He was jarred out of his train-wreck thoughts by the call of his name. Laguna looked concerned. "Is everything alright?"

The teen felt what little appetite he'd had vanish in the face of this realization. Standing, he picked up his plate and dumped the remains of the mutilated meal. "I am fine, father. I shall be in my room if you have need of me."

Laguna's expression was bewildered as Leon swept out of the room.

"...sure, son."

* * *

Leon was in a good mood as he strolled down the sidewalk that morning, listening to his...boyfriend chat animatedly about his scientific findings. Even thinking the b-word sent delighted tingles through him, as if someone was flicking a playful feather down his spinal column.

"...and it tested pink?" he asked, shifting his books in his grip.

"Yes. It is definitely a base. I was already aware, but I thought it prudent to double check in the event I made an error." The blonde sighed happily. "I am just pleased that everything is going according to plan."

"I am pleased for you as well, Cloud." The blonde smiled at him, and he felt his breath catch at the look in those clear blue eyes. "Actually...I wanted to inquire something of you."

Cloud cocked his head to one side, golden strands falling across his porcelain face. "What is it, Leon?"

He swallowed, throat suddenly dry. "Do—do you hold any degree of interest in astronomy?"

"Well, I do find the cosmos to be a point of intrigue." The blonde looked mildly confused at the sudden change in topic. "May I ask why that is of any importance?"

"I..." Hesitantly, he tugged a flyer free of the papers in his binder and presented it for Cloud's inspection. It had taken about an hour to find—he'd had a thousand ideas and all had been discarded before he clicked something by accident and stumbled on this place. "I was pondering the notion of whether you would enjoy an outing to a planetarium this weekend." He coughed, a pink flush spreading over the bridge of his nose. "In my company."

The rising hydrogen sphere in the sky seemed to dim in comparison to Cloud's beaming smile, light catching the metal squares and making them shine.

"I would enjoy that very much."

Leon smiled back, reaching for Cloud's hand and entwining their fingers. Their conversation drifted to other things as they continued their walk, but his buoyant mood remained. His heart felt light, almost to the point of floating out of his chest, and he doubted that anything could ruin this high. It took only a few more minutes to arrive, and even the usual bereft feeling that came with releasing the blonde's hand seemed pleasantly muted.

Until he entered the double doors.

Gravity probably decided it was sick of being mocked, he thought vaguely as he registered the hundreds of eyes fixed on his figure. That would explain the weight in his stomach that was denser than stone.

_"Good morning, members of the student population. Among my peers I go by Leon Leonhart, and if one would care to ignore the asinine redundancy of my chosen moniker I have an offer to present. Like my mother before me, I have obtained an interest in harlotry and would appreciate if one would contact me in pursuit of sexual pleasure..."_

The flyer went on with his contact information, but Leon too stunned to notice. The papers were everywhere—taking up almost every available inch of wall space, printed in the same large font and the same lusty red ink. He heard the whispers and laughter but registered little but overwhelming shock, not aware of his own motion until he nearly stumbled.

Cloud had him by the wrist and was dragging him to his locker, the blonde's voice trembling slightly with suppressed anger. "Don't pay them any attention, Leon. Whoever posted that is an immature idiot."

"They—" He couldn't speak. None of the things on the flyer stung as much as three particularly painful words.

_Like my mother..._

"It'll be okay, Leon," the younger teen whispered as they reached. "They don't matter. Get your things and I'll walk you to class, alright?"

Numbly, he turned the black dial, muscle memory granting him numbers that his mind was too frazzled to conjure. It was Cloud's choked scream as the door swung open that brought him out of his stupor.

Snails.

They covered his things. On the walls, on the locker ceiling, oozing their slimy trails on the covers of his books and the folds of his backup sweater. The blonde beside him let out a squeak as one of them fell from its upside-down perch onto his History book, its nastily colored flesh oozing out of its cracked shell.

The sight was disgusting. Leon fought the urge to reacquaint himself with his recently consumed breakfast.

Around them, the laughter grew louder. Not caring who was watching, his fingers frantically searched for Cloud's, needing some small reassurance before he lost it completely.

"We are going to the office," the blonde said quietly. "They will deal with it."

* * *

It was an hour later that he sat in class, bereft of Cloud's presence and feeling more than a little depressed. He'd come from the office with notes for his teachers, but none had minded his lack of books and waved him off with sympathetic smiles. All of his things were being trashed, his books stained beyond cleaning and the thought of donning his sweater again gave him disgusted chills.

The principal had assured him that the signs would be taken down. But the damage had been done. Every word of the cruel message was superimposed behind his eyes and he couldn't forget it.

_Like my mother..._

Coffee bangs swept down to curtain his face as he leaned over his work, glasses askew, scribbling frantically in an effort to ignore the staring and pointing. If there was one thing he wasn't used to, it was attention, and it seemed that every second there was the cut of a cruel gaze to snip at a wound never properly stitched.

He wanted Cloud.

But the blonde was on the other side of the building, and it would be another three hours before he got to see him again.

Another eruption of whispers came from directly in front of him and he could feel someone's hot breath on his forehead. Wild red hair caught his line of vision, framing bright green eyes like a tousled mane and making the person seem vicious, feral. The voice was lowly malicious, and every word burned into his brain like a savage iron. "Think I can get you to suck me off, Leonhart? Hope your mom showed you how to take cock!"

Despair was rising up inside him. His glasses were fogging, he couldn't see—the laughter grew louder and his resolve not to react was crumbling into bite-sized bits. He wanted to make them hurt, make them pay—no one had the right to talk about _her_ that way.

_But it's your fault, isn't it?_

"Alright, we're letting the closed interval a, b be the domain of function f, and—what on earth is going on over there?" The scratching of chalk on chalkboard abruptly ceased, the teacher's pink skirt flying as she whirled around. "There is work to be done! Unless there's an invisible blackboard over there, everyone should be in their seats! Leave Mr. Leonhart alone!"

The brunette shivered in relief as the crowd retreated, lenses clearing from the absence of their breath. All his anger seemed to drain like water from a rotting sieve and he was left with little more than fatigue. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to curl in his bedsheets and sleep till graduation.

With a sigh, he continued his work, letting the teacher's voice wash over him and keeping his eyes on his paper. Ink smeared his hands as he wrote out problems, his grip tight and shaking with anger and embarrassment. Time seemed to pass agonizingly slow, the clock's hands clinging to each minute like a desperate lover before forcefully pried away.

The monotony seemed to last forever.

As usual, he finished before the rest of the class, putting the ink-stained writing utensil away and chancing a look outside his chestnut veil. Authority's eagle eyes kept the staring and pointing at bay, and the only audible noise was time's grudging metronome. A tiny, sad smile found its way to his lips. He could almost pretend that everything was normal, with the scene set so.

He was getting his desk in order when he noticed the looseleaf square, sitting innocently on a corner of the table. It was small and neatly folded, with the letters of his name penned in elegant script. Gingerly, the brunette took it between two fingers, half-expecting something nasty to be concealed within its pristine folds. He managed to unfold it using only its edges and stared in exasperation at the message inside.

_Have you had an enjoyable morning? Leave Cloud alone, or more fun's in your future._

Every negative emotion he had felt that morning surged up in his chest and with a single violent motion, the message tore neatly in half.

* * *

Muted noise met Cloud's ears as a swing moved back and forth, gentle creaking telling stories of happy children. The park was deserted, only disturbed sandboxes left in the wake of toddlers that played after school. They were alone in the post-dusk darkness; the blonde leaned on a support beam and watched the brunette's fingers tighten around rusting chains.

The only light was the screen of Leon's discarded phone. He'd tossed it atop his bag in disgust, and the display still lit up every few minutes.

"Would you wish for me to expunge your cellular's memory?" he asked softly, not knowing quite what to say in this situation. He couldn't meet his boyfriend's gaze: Leon's head was angled forward and brown bangs hid the world from his eyes.

"That is not necessary, Cloud. Though I appreciate the inquiry."

"Leon—" the blonde began weakly, but Leon cut him off.

"Why would anyone have the desire to execute such an action?" The brunette's voice was rough. "I have not done anything to offend anyone at that institute."

Cloud felt his feet moving before he registered the motion. His arms threaded their way between the chains of the swing and around the older boy's shoulders from behind, and he buried his face into the fine strands of Leon's nape.

"I was not bothered by most of the message. Our peers are immature and puerile. We knew that." Leon shuddered slightly and leaned backwards, into Cloud's warmth. "But why was it necessary to bring her into it?"

They remained in that position for several quiet moments, the phone's constant vibration forgotten in the face of their thoughts. "Are you able to tell me about her?" the blonde asked at last, voice curiously hesitant. They hadn't been together for long at all, and he didn't know if he had the right to ask _those_ types of questions.

Leon didn't seem bothered by it, though by the stiffening of his shoulders the blonde could guess his response before his spoke. "I will, eventually. But not at the moment."

"Okay."

They remained quiet for a few minutes before the brunette took Cloud's hand in his own, kneading the digits between his own fingers. "Thank you," he said quietly. "My car is not terribly far, if you would like a ride home."

The blonde squeezed him in reply before letting go. "I would like that."

They took their things and ambled out of the playground at a steady pace, the brunette's hand working his pocket in search of keys. He found them at the very bottom and fished the shiny objects free, sending two small pieces of paper to the ground in his haste.

"Leon, you dropped something." The blonde paused under a glaring streetlight, bending to pick up the object—and stopped dead, hand still outstretched and body frozen in a stunned still life.

The brunette turned, already a few paces ahead. "Did I? What was—" His voice trailed off as well as he took in the scene, his bout of anger in calculus class rushing to the forefront of his mind.

"What is this?" Cloud asked quietly, touching the ripped papers with the tips of his fingers as if he was holding contaminants. His heart was thumping, a sense of dread threatening to engulf him as his eyes traced the slanted l's, the scrunched v's, the circles dotting the i's.

_What would Leon be doing with..._

"Oh. That." The brunette's voice was flat. "Someone sent it to me in calculus."

The younger teen straightened from his crouched position, excruciatingly slow, as if he'd gained decades in minutes and his joints were quickly failing. "Would you mind if I kept these?"

Leon looked confused, but nodded his head in assent. "If you would like."

Stuffing the papers in his own pocket, Cloud forced a reassuring smile, catching up and taking Leon's hand even as the realization tore at his heart.

* * *

There was a spring in Zack Fair's step as he walked down the empty hallway, relishing the end of a school day and a bright-looking afternoon. His homework list for tonight was thankfully short, there was no football practice, and there was a pile of consoles just _calling_ his name.

The senior sighed happily. Absolutely nothing could spoil his impending evening at this point.

"Sephiroth!"

He started at the sudden yell. The halls were empty, all the students outside, and he'd been sure he was alone. But the cry of the familiar name immediately spurred a series of reactions in his body and Zack felt his lofty mood take a dive bomb from the clouds.

There were _things_ he'd been trying not to think about—but it was too late, as the thought of piercing green eyes and elegant movements had risen to his mind's eye.

"Why are you doing these things?"

It took a moment for him to realize that the voice was around the corner, and he slowed his gait, wanting to hear the impending drama. The quarterback hadn't spoken yet though obviously present, but Zack could just _picture_ him—his tall stature towering over the speaker and eyes filled with cold fire. His heart let out a series of weird palpitations.

Zack suppressed a frustrated groan.

"I don't know what you're talking about—"

"You wrote that message Leon received." The center heard footsteps, angry ones. "I am aware we have a history, but that is no excuse for you to treat Leon in the fashion you have—"

There was a choked yelp followed by a loud bang, and the center's curiosity grew too great for him to ignore. He chanced a quick peek around the corner and had to hold in his surprised expletive: there was Sephiroth in all his glory, pinning someone to a row of lockers. Seph's back was facing him, but the tenseness of his body gave away his anger.

That long cascade of spun moonlight hid the other person completely, and disappointment bubbled up within him. He would have loved to see who had riled his stoic friend...

_...who was taking the spot he had dreamed of having._

"Why wouldn't you accept me, Cloud?" Seph's hands shook the body in its grip and Zack winced at the other person's cries of pain, all amorous thoughts beginning to fade as concern formed within him. The repeated smacking of bone against metal was a jarring, nasty sound. "All I wanted was to have you, and you just—"

"You frightened me!" The person—Cloud, Zack mentally corrected—sounded pained, but there was a definite edge of fury. "How dare you even fathom being accepted when you insisted on forcing me?"

Sephiroth's movements grew more violent, and Zack frantically looked around. Where was the faculty? Why wasn't anyone coming? His conscience prodded at him to _help_, but he was frozen in place, unable to do anything but watch.

Sephiroth had moved, now holding Cloud's wrists in a crushing, bruising grip. Zack was now treated to a profile view and he could clearly see the dangerous glare on the quarterback's face. "I've left you alone so far, Cloud, but if I wasn't good enough for you, then—"

"I am capable of ruining you, Sephiroth."

Zack's eyes widened.

There was an intense silence, broken only by pained noises and harsh breathing. Sephiroth leaned over his captive, stare deadly enough to vaporize the blonde where he stood. Cloud didn't back down, however, and the center felt his respect for this unknown figure raise several points.

"I have the note you penned in my possession. I will prove the handwriting match to the administration and they will usurp both your position and your scholarship." Zack didn't know if Cloud had caught the minute tensing in Seph's body, but he certainly had. "I was aware that you received one for athletics. I am also aware that the Yamani family lost a significant amount in the stock market last week."

His friend was clearly dying to wrap his fingers around the blonde's neck and squeeze, even as he slowly let Cloud go. The blonde's voice held a note of smugness.

"You cannot afford what I would bring upon you," he finished tersely. "Leave Leon alone."

Without another word, Sephiroth turned and left in one direction, spine ramrod straight and silver head held high. Cloud swayed on his spot, obviously dizzy, before turning to leave. Zack regained his wits enough to stand flush against the wall and Cloud passed him, thankfully not noticing. It was long after both had left that he broke out of his stupor, trying to understand what he'd just seen.

* * *

His boyfriend was late, Leon thought impatiently as he sat alone at what was now "their" table. As usual, bookstore business was slow and no one paid him any attention—and after the last few hellish days, being ignored was a mercy. The blonde's pastry was now cold and he was debating getting another when the bell atop the door jingled.

Cloud looked a right _mess_.

The disheveled clothing was the first thing he noticed. The blonde's tie was loose and half undone, shirt rumpled, pocket protector missing. He was greeted with a wan smile before Cloud sat across from him, and that was when he saw them. Two identical sets of blue bruises, just emerging and making macabre bracelets around pale wrists.

His first instinct was to grab Cloud's wrists for a closer look, but he regretted doing so at the blonde's pained hiss. With gentler motions, he examined the discolorations, bringing one hand for inspection and then another.

"May I _please_ inquire how exactly you have gotten into this state?"

"It is of no concern, Leon." Cloud drew his arms back, under the table. The brunette was surprised to see a triumphant glimmer sparkling among those emerald flecks he loved so much. "Just know that your issue has been corrected."

"Issue? Cloud, I do not comprehend this." He was utterly baffled, but the blonde appeared completely calm as he tore a piece of pastry and began to eat.

"Your assailant." Cloud looked up then, and he was surprised to see a tinge of hatred in the warm stare, frigid and hostile. "I have dealt with the situation." Leon felt the blonde's legs entwine with his under the table.

"No one will be bothering you anymore."

"Cloud..." He couldn't help himself as he rose from his seat, moving to sit next to the blonde. The pleased sigh was audible as he tentatively put an arm around the smaller teen. Blue eyes had softened and showed only affection and slight fatigue as they looked at him. "How did you accomplish this?"

"I..." The blonde looked away. "It is not relevant to us, Leon. Please, trust me and let the matter die."

He was in no way happy with that answer, but Cloud's stare begged him to accept it. With a sigh, he rested his cheek against downy, golden strands. "You are entitled a favor from me, in that case," he murmured, voice slightly muffled.

He couldn't see the blonde's face, but there was a smile in the other male's voice. "Okay."

They sat there together for the rest of the afternoon, the anxiety of the last few days slowly draining away. Cloud's earlier worries about their relationship seemed detached to him now, like an adult reading a journal of his childhood emotions. Things weren't settled between them yet, even with what they'd just dealt with, and they wouldn't be for a while. But that was alright.

Cloud knew it now. He was with the right person.

_**fin**_


	3. Of Leather and Lip Gloss

**Of Leather and Lip Gloss**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Rating: PG**

**Warnings: None**

**A/N: The third installment - finally. Those of you who keep up with my frequently updated livejournal would have already read the first scene and know that I promised to post today. According to my clock I am cutting it extremely close - by less than ten minutes, actually.**

**So - down to business. Some reviewers wanted to see more of the twins, and I am happy to report that there is a very healthy dose of them in this chapter. Laguna also makes another appearance. Mainly humor and WAFF - and a little bit of Leon's backstory.**

**As usual, this chapter is dedicated to my beta - and girlfriend, a quite new development - Oblea. :3**

**I'm quite sorry about the delay on this one, there was a lot going on with me. I'm going to be writing a lot in the coming week, being that I am off from school, so expect to see a few drabbles popping up and hopefully the fourth chapter.**

**Enjoy, everyone, and let's look forward to future installments. Please review when you're done reading (please), and drop me a line on my LJ when you get a chance. **

* * *

**_Glasses and Braces III_**

**Of Leather and Lip Gloss**

Sora was in quite good spirits, if he could say so himself. It was the first of April, with the birds singing sweetly and the sun doing that cool shiny thing it did on occasion. He'd been forced into finishing his weekend homework the night before—admittedly to a chorus of curses and grumbling—but now he had a beautiful Saturday of tomfoolery with his beloved twin to execute with glorious results. The brunette sighed in idyllic contentment, azure eyes drifting shut over his emptied bowl of cornflakes. His soul felt lightened and youthfully free, and the world felt like a paradise of joy and joyness.

So, as a result of such a buoyant and overly exuberant mood, the brunette decided to make a foray upstairs from a wonderful breakfast to check on his beloved older brother. (Not to say that he wouldn't do so otherwise, thank you very much.) With a dull clunk, his bowl hit the sink's stained steel and he stared at it dispassionately, debating whether or not to wash it.

_I'll do it later,_ he thought.

And happily, he went on his way.

Cloud's door was cracked open, rays of sunlight streaming out of the small fissure to highlight the hall. He could hear the creaking of the teen's footprints as they pressured the well-worn wood, a soft muttering filling the lazy air in hastily spoken meter. "Cloud?" Sora asked, pushing the opened partition wider. What he saw was enough to shock him out of his bliss.

"Oh, _no."_

A knitted orange sweater in a nasty shade between upchucked carrots and bacterial Cheetos. Layered over a shirt in a shade so piss yellow it looked like some puppy with bladder problems had inherited it and was continuing genetic tradition. Completing the gruesome ensemble were neon green slacks that were cut mommy-style and could serve as colorblind shock therapy and a pair of faded Lord of the Rings sneakers.

"Well? Are they acceptable pieces of attire?"

Sora did the only thing he was capable of doing at that moment. He threw back his head and screamed.

_"ROXAS!" _

A muffled "what" came from the general direction of the kitchen.

"Get up here! Something's wrong with Cloud!" The brunette yelled frantically, ignoring the alarmed expression on his older brother's face.

"Again?" Roxas trumped up the stairs in a series of clumps and creaks, displaced headphones blasting music to his shapely shoulders. Sora stepped aside for the younger blonde to enter, and the pair stared at their elder sibling for long, horrible moments.

"...dude."

And the duo attacked.

* * *

Rubber gloves peeled smoothly off pinkened hands, a deft flick of the wrist sending them in a perfect arc for a neat landing in the trash. A casual shrug brought his labcoat down to his elbows, the movement almost sensual in its practiced nonchalance as he slid it down his arms and into his grip. It took little time to fold it, less time to tuck it safely away, and with that Leon turned out the lights and closed the door to his lab.

Or designated area of personal scientific study, as he preferred to call it. Lab sounded like a small child mixing grape juice and soda.

He toed off his lab sneakers outside the closed door and made his way upstairs, the feel of cool marble beneath his bare feet soothing after hours around Bunsen burners. He'd woken sinfully early that morning with the urge to tinker with something—his day-long date with Cloud didn't start until ten, but nerves had been setting in since before he'd lain down to rest. It was eight-thirty now and he felt much calmer, anticipation to see the blonde replacing the clenching fear that had paralyzed his mind.

The house seemed eerily quiet, he noted as he made his way across it to the large staircase. His father was home as usual, but was not in his office, as the gaping open door and empty space within told him. The kitchen was dark, the home theater silent, the game room deserted, the indoor pool bare. A feeling of foreboding encroached on him as he climbed the stairs, the framed pictures in the hallway seeming to stare with empty eyes.

He was relieved when he arrived at his room, turning the doorknob with a guilty haste. A sigh of relief escaped him when he entered the space and hit the lights—which promptly turned into an undignified shriek.

"Hiya, son!"

Leon felt ten years of his life slip down the drain.

Large green eyes blinked at him in childish wonder, a suspiciously young face breaking into a goofy smile. Only the crows' feet hinted at the man's true age—an age that did absolutely nothing to stop him moving as if he was constantly sniffing sugar.

Though it would make sense if Laguna was nasally imbibing, he pondered vaguely. The sugar would hit faster than injection. Blood-brain barrier thing.

"Am I capable of assisting you, father?"

The younger brunette's voice was dull as he stripped off his shirt without a second thought. Laguna's smile dimmed a little, but returned in full force as he watched Leon walk around the room. The teen felt his skin crawl at the scrutiny and knew he wasn't going to like what came next. "Well, it's Saturday, son," the older man began, bouncing a little from his spot on the bed. Leon winced as he saw his perfect corners loosening with every quake. "And since you've probably finished all your work last night like the genius you are..."

The compliment was accentuated by a flamboyant wink that served only to further unnerve its recipient. He was guilty on that count—having nothing better to do upon his arrival, he'd completed everything for the weekend and gone to bed early. That fact did absolutely nothing to stop the onset of dread. "I was wondering if you'd like to go bowling. Spend some time with your old dad."

This was not the first time that he'd gotten this proposition: almost every weekend Laguna found some way to trap him and ask him to go places. Usually he managed to find some sort of excuse—needing to buy new books, a volatile experiment requiring full attention, a test to study for—but as irritating as the older man was, Leon still felt an uncomfortable guilt. _He doesn't deserve anything from me after what he did,_ he'd think furiously, but that did nothing to alleviate the discomfort. Today, however, he didn't have to lie.

He had _plans_.

A sudden rush of affection for Cloud warmed him as he pulled out his pre-prepared outfit: neatly pressed black slacks, a clean button down shirt, a gray vest. He hadn't been able to find a nicer tie, so his school one would tie off ensemble in a tidy Windsor knot. He didn't think the blonde would mind. As he got dressed, however, he could see the hurt realization forming in those viridian depths and he turned his head away, unwilling to watch.

"I...I am unable to, father," he began quietly. "I'm...going out."

"Oh." Laguna looked crestfallen, but still managed a smile. "Any particular place?"

At that moment, Leon didn't know that he would regret his next statement. He didn't know that the perfectly enunciated sentence that left his mouth in an eager burst of air would bring him nothing but _pain._

"To the planetarium, in a friend's company."

Silence.

"...really?"

The brunette had been looking in the mirror as he tied his tie, so he didn't notice the expression on Laguna's face—as if someone had just told him he was being given a million dollars and flown out for a vacation on Whore Island. He did notice the man get up and leave hurriedly, and with the hasty exit Leon breathed a sigh of relief. Wallet and keys were found and pocketed, and he went to his closet to retrieve the day's...extra items.

He had spent some time last night on the computer, browsing the dating websites he'd bookmarked at the cost of his dignity. Yes, he was looking forward to going to the planetarium with Cloud—but if he was completely honest with himself, he wanted some time alone with the blonde. They'd only spent time together in public, eating lunch in each other's company at school and hanging out at the bookstore. He hadn't been to Cloud's home or met any of his family, and as luxurious as Laguna's high-profile job had made their home there was no way in hell Leon was subjecting his boyfriend to the man.

But how did one go about getting one's significant other alone?

Motels were tasteless and unromantic. Leon's cheeks burned at the endless number of _implications_. The bookstore was special to them, but he wanted to surprise the blonde with something new. Both their houses were currently out of the question, and any other place he could think of held too much potential for interruption. He'd almost given up the notion when he remembered a certain incident from his early pre-teen years.

Bad memories. Very bad memories, but if his recall was correct, they would give him the perfect spot.

Reaching for the shelf of the closet, he removed the prepared items and turned around—only to drop them in surprise. Laguna was standing in the open doorway.

Holding a pair of very questionable-looking pants.

Leon did not like the expression on his father's face.

"Son, I've been thinking." There was a clear glint of mischief in the man's jade eyes as he sauntered into the room. "You're getting older now, and it's around the right time for you to start experiencing certain...things."

The brunette unconsciously backed away. "Such as what, father?"

"Relationships. Dating. Those sort of things."

"Father, I..." he cast about for a response, suddenly very nervous. Yes, he'd resolved not to inform the man about Cloud, but if his father was taking matters into his own hands then this could go in a number of unpleasant directions. "I have already told you that I am being accompanied by a friend. A _friend_, father."

"But friends make the best lovers, son!" That mischievous gleam had turned downright manic as Laguna came even closer. Leon felt his knees hit the back of the bed and he went sprawling onto it, scuttling towards the farthest corner like a frightened crab. The man followed him in his hurried journey across the sheets until they were face to face. "And how are you going to make that transition without a little effort?"

With that said, Laguna put his hands on his squirming son's hips, hooking the waistline of the buttoned slacks and the boxers underneath between his deft fingers.

And pulled.

Leon _screamed_.

The next few minutes were a flurry of flailing limbs, determined tugging and choked off cries for help and mercy. When the dust settled and Laguna leaned back, the younger brunette felt all circulation in his legs screech to an abrupt halt.

Dark.

Smooth.

Tight.

_Leather._

"See, son?" Laguna said soothingly as he tugged his son over the mussed duvet and towards the open doorway. "Your friend won't be able to stop staring at you in that. Come, I have a whole outfit to go with it..."

Leon's body was too numb and his mind too broken to even consider resistance.

* * *

Cloud was decidedly uncomfortable as the twins bustled about, tossing various clothing items around and calling out suggestions. His room was in total disarray—there was stuff _everywhere_. On the bed, on the dresser, gloves and jewelry and bottles of suspicious-looking things he tried his best not to look at. Longingly, he gazed at his discarded, _comfortable_ outfit and then down with disgust at what he was currently wearing: a tight black shirt whose sleeves stopped just under his elbows and an equally tight pair of black jeans.

And apparently he wasn't finished.

"Found it!" Sora cried out triumphantly, pulling a white object from underneath one of the piles. "Put this on, Cloud."

The blonde looked in confusion at what appeared to be a girl's pleated miniskirt. He was already wearing pants, wasn't he? And why would his brother...

"Sora...that article of clothing is not in your immediate possession, is that correct?"

"Huh?" The brunette's nose scrunched up cutely as he translated Cloud's sentence to English. "Oh, no, it's Kairi's...mom's."

Roxas stuck his head out of the closet, looking as baffled as his brother felt. "Why would you even have—"

"Well, would you look at the time—lots left to do," the youngest said hastily, a cerise flush blooming on his face. "Just put it on over the pants. It's a fashion thing."

Gingerly, the blonde bent down to slip the skirt up his clothed legs, feeling the pressure at his waist increase dramatically. His air was even further constricted when Roxas came up behind him and fastened a choker around his neck. A pair of white fingerless was dropped into his lap. "Put those gloves on, Cloud," the younger blonde said absentmindedly as he began to sift through the bottles on the dresser.

"Roxas, he doesn't need all that," Sora muttered, joining his twin. "I don't want use up all our drag stuff, that powder cost a fortune—"

"Just this, then?" Roxas replied in an equally low voice, glancing over his shoulder. Cloud seemed too absorbed in disgustedly feeling himself up to pay them any attention. A small, transparent tube was held up for Sora's viewing, and the brunette smiled.

"Yeah, just that."

Cloud looked up from his horrified observations to see his siblings approaching him, both wearing large and innately disturbing grins. Roxas grabbed his shoulders and gently eased him to sit on the bed while Sora bent over to meet his eye level. "Just one more thing, brother dear..."

The bed depressed as the younger blonde got on it, and Cloud gasped, startled as a fistful of his hair was suddenly clutched in a death grip from behind. Something in Sora's hands was making a muted squishing sound, and the brunette was looking down at it with an unusually loving gaze.

"Close your eyes, Cloud."

Obediently, he shut them. And something cool and wet spread evenly over his lips, just as the doorbell rang.

* * *

Cloud's hand was shyly entwined in his as they entered the establishment, in good moods after a comfortably quiet drive. Having been in the process of getting over his parentally induced trauma, he'd had the amount of clarity to note that Cloud looked stunningly gorgeous—but not enough to say anything. As he paid for their tickets and looked over at the blonde, however, he felt appreciation well up inside him.

"Your appearance is resplendent, Cloud."

Pale cheeks gained a rosy tint, but there was pleasant surprise in those cerulean depths. "My siblings accosted me. I had minimal input on my choice of attire." The blonde's eyes flickered downward, surreptitiously, but Leon noticed and felt his face burn. "Were you victim to a similar fate, or..."

"I was," he said hastily, not wanting Cloud to entertain the other option. He would set his scientific study area on fire before he put on these clothes willingly. "My father was rather... insistent."

The blonde smiled warmly and reached up to finger the fur on Laguna's leather jacket, left open to show the tight t-shirt underneath. The man had also insisted that Leon expose his pendant, which he usually tucked safely against his skin. It hung in full view, and Cloud's fingers brushed it gently before retreating.

"I am of the persuasion that his results are very desirable," the teen commented quietly, lips curled in a smile sultrier than anything Leon had seen on his boyfriend's face. "I did not possess the prior knowledge that your trochanter was so...defined."

Once more, the brunette's cheeks heated, but he was drawn to the sight of Cloud laughing. Metal caught the light, drawing Leon's attention to the blonde's lips.

They looked...different today, somehow. Fuller. Pinker.

More kissable.

_I want to get you alone..._

With a shake of the head, he banished those thoughts and took his boyfriend's hand, guiding them towards the escalator. If he didn't stop daydreaming something was bound to go wrong.

The planetarium was a large, open building, with several floors and a massive spherical theater that was attached to the ceiling and was only accessible on the top floor. This was their first destination, to see a show about their world's stellar origins. The ceiling of the dome was made of some transparent material, the brunette noted as they entered, and they sat together in the back row.

The seats were arranged arena-style, but none of them were raised. And there was no stage in sight.

"There is no designated presentation area," Cloud whispered, sounding as excited as Leon felt. "Unless they intend to utilize the diminutive area in the center, in which case I am unaware of how they plan to execute such a complex presentation in—"

The blonde stopped speaking as the lights dimmed, and as one the audience gasped as the ceiling lit up. The brunette understood—half of the dome was for seating, but the other 180 was the show.

And it was beautiful.

As much as he was enjoying the informative spectacle, Leon's eyes couldn't help but stray over to his companion. Cloud was on the edge of his seat, face set in joyful awe, the lights from above reflecting in his eyes and making them shine. Somehow, _somehow,_ his lips were shining too—they looked so soft, so moist and in the dim illumination...alluring.

And suddenly, everything changed—the lights went up, Cloud was looking at him from a much closer distance and his world had blurred. The blonde didn't look like he had moved, however, and embarrassment welled up in the brunette as he discerned his close proximity.

He'd been leaning in without realizing.

"Silly." Cloud's tone was teasing and Leon's ears tingled at the sound of the unfamiliar word. He'd never heard his boyfriend use such...puerile language. He liked it. "Your optical aids fell. It would be prudent to keep them more securely in place. For future reference."

Feeling like an idiot, he retrieved his glasses and put them on, though his mood improved when the blonde kissed his cheek.

Gently, he took the teen's hand. He would not let one incident ruin his day.

"I will certainly remember. Come, there are other exhibits I would like us to visit."

* * *

Cloud stood in front of the bathroom mirror, smoothing out his clothing. He and Leon had passed several happy hours browsing the planetarium, laughing at each other's exorbitant weights on the planet mass scales and taking two more trips to the theater. They were getting ready to go somewhere else, though Cloud didn't know where—a surprise, the brunette had said.

But first, he had something to do.

_"Put this on every few hours, okay?"_

Looking around surreptitiously, he pulled the skirt up and grabbed the small tube from his pants pocket. With careful hands, he ran the small wand across his lips, feeling the familiar cool and wet sensation as the viscous fluid settled in. The blonde wasn't particularly fond of it—it felt strange and a little too thick. But Sora and Roxas knew more about this thing than he did, and he supposed he should trust them.

And there was the fact that Leon _had_ been staring a lot more than usual. Though if he was honest with himself, he was guilty of that as well—he'd never taken note of the fact that the brunette had nice legs. In the loose blue plaid of their school uniforms, it wasn't visible, but in spray-painted leather the sight was burned into his brain. Leon had very, _very_ nice legs, toned and leading up to a curved, round, supple...

Cloud's fingers twitched inward.

With a slight flush on his nose and under his collar, he left the bathroom and headed out for their meeting spot. After a five-minute walk out to the parking lot, he spotted Leon next to his car—carrying a heavy-looking bag in his hand.

_What's in that?_

"Are you prepared to depart, Cloud?"

He smiled back, suspense slowly building as he got into the car. "Yes. Won't you please relay to me what our destination is?"

Leon took a minute to put his cargo in the backseat before joining Cloud in the front. "I informed you that it is meant to be a surprise."

"But I am desirous to assimilate that information at this moment!" The blonde pouted for the first time in his life, inwardly noting that the brunette's hand had stilled on the ignition as they held eye contact. He'd never seen his boyfriend's eyes this stormy—as if the smoke from some hidden red fire was undulating in each iris.

"Then you will simply have to adapt to the situation's reality. You will take pleasure in this, I promise."

"Very well, then."

The brunette smiled at him and started the engine, fixing his hands in perfect ten and two position. Leaning back on the seat, he closed his eyes and contentedly let Leon drive.

* * *

Cloud was woken by soft shaking.

Sitting up, he blinked sleepily, realizing that he had nodded off in the car. It was around five in the afternoon if the white numbers on the dashboard were right, and he was starving. Unfortunately, he didn't see any restaurants around. He didn't see _anything_ around.

"Leon, where are we?" he asked sleepily, blinking rapidly to wake up faster. The brunette only smiled, completely unconcerned with that fact that they were in the middle of nowhere.

"There is something I would like to show you, but first...for how lengthy a time period are you permitted to be outside your home?"

Cloud smiled at the question—his mother had squealed in joy when he'd asked her permission to go out and told him he could stay out as late as three AM. Why she'd given him such an exorbitant amount of time was still a mystery, though he had a sickening suspicion the twins had something to do with it.

"Very late. Staying in this area for a while will not present an issue."

The brunette looked relieved. "Come."

As Cloud stepped out of the car, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. There was no civilization for as far as he could see, except the winding road. Wild grass came up to his knees, tickling his skin through his jeans and making him feel prickly. The sun was beginning to set, as well—its cosmic burn turning the sky orange and purple near the horizon line.

He was so immersed in watching his surroundings that he didn't notice Leon come up beside him, the mystery bag from earlier in one hand and a cylindrical tube under his arm. "There's a small cliff near here. Obviously we will not be going near its edge, but..." The brunette coughed, looking more and more nervous by the minute. "When the sun sets, you are capable of...viewing stars. That you cannot see in the city. I had the notion...that you would enjoy it, considering where we just were."

He motioned to the tube. "I...brought my telescope. So you can see them better. And food, since we didn't purchase anything."

Excitement welled up within him, battling another potent but slower emotion. It was the tortoise that won—a wave of affection crashed over him in a torrent that left him gasping. "I..."

He couldn't find words.

Instead, he slid his arms around Leon's middle and squeezed tightly.

The brunette seemed to understand.

* * *

The sun had finally set in a blaze of color, leaving the cool blanket of night to unroll itself above them. Stars dotted its expanse, more than he could count—though Cloud was making a valiant effort with the recently erected telescope. Already familiar with the beautiful view through the lens, he was content to lay back and watch the blonde.

Dinner had gone well. The grass grew scarcer the closer they got to the cliff, and they were able to settle where it was ankle-deep. Inwardly the brunette thanked the curious saleslady who he'd bought the food from—when notified that he was setting up picnic she'd directed him to a mattress store and all but demanded he buy a blanket.

Surreptitiously, he patted himself on the back. The day couldn't have gone more perfect.

"Leon?" Cloud was looking at him curiously. "I wanted to inquire of you...how exactly did you originally locate this place?"

He grimaced automatically, even as the blonde sat beside him. "My father attempted to take me on a camping excursion when I was around the age of twelve. Unfortunately, he had wound down the car window completely and the directions to the camping ground flew out."

Cloud tried to restrain his mirth, body quivering with the repressed force of the sound. "What events occurred after?"

"He was too frightened to transport us any farther, and we had lost the directions near the spot that I parked. We instead made a very disastrous attempt at the activity here and opted to go home the next day."

Leon scowled, eyes narrowing as the blonde gave up and let his laughter ring across the plains. "I'm surprised that you recalled the location for such an extensive period of time," Cloud commented, trying to get himself under control.

Softening somewhat, he managed a small smile. "It is a positive thing that I did."

A crisp wind seared the field, tousling Leon's bangs. His jacket was thick enough that it didn't bother him, but Cloud was not so lucky and had begun to shiver. Without thinking, he blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"In Antarctica, penguins move more physically close together to preserve warmth."

Once more embarrassed at the awkward cross between odd fact and proposition, he was surprised when Cloud's only reactions were quivering, outstretched arms and a smile. "I don't believe I'm an aquatic bird, but I am willing to adopt a few mannerisms."

Feeling sheepish but strangely elated, he gingerly pulled the blonde closer. They had certainly hugged before, but it had always been brief—nothing like this extended embrace. His boyfriend's body fit perfectly against his chest, flaxen hair pleasantly brushing Leon's nape. Like in the theater, the starlight flecked Cloud's eyes, intimately entwined with the blue of each iris.

And his lips...they still shined with an iridescent sheen.

He wanted to capture them.

"I found our day together a very enjoyable excursion, Leon," the blonde whispered quietly. There was no one around to hear them and yet the brunette shared the sentiment: it was as if speaking loudly would shatter the gravity of their moment. "I appreciate it. Thank you."

"It was pleasurable for myself as well, Cloud." Timidly, he traced his digits along the blonde's spine, feeling its contours with a tenderness that bordered reverence. "I relished our time together during our hours of study, but I...coveted a few moments where we were not engulfed by others."

The blonde's fingers curled on his shoulder, toying with the longer strands of his hair that brushed it. "I wanted that as well."

Cloud looked up at him then, their breath mingling, and unconsciously Leon's tongue came out to wet his lips. Blue eyes flickered downwards to behold the sight for only a mere second—but the brunette caught their movement and his heart began to race. "The pacing of this...is rather rapid."

His voice had a husky quality when it touched the space between them, and Cloud's voice also came out addled. "I was aware of that, Leon. But..." the blonde's chin tilted upwards. Minutely. A centimeter's fraction.

It was enough for Leon.

"...I'm not concerned."

He leaned down slowly, almost shyly, not wanting to rush this or force it or ruin it in any way. But Cloud's hold on his shoulders had loosened into a gentle caress, his body relaxed in the brunette's hold. Open, ready.

Waiting.

**_Fin_**


	4. Of Parents and Pi

**Of Parents and Pi  
**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Rating: PG-13**

**Warnings: Language  
**

**Pairings: LeonxCloud**

**A/N: Oh God, I am SO SORRY for how long this took to get up. Truly, I am. I just got swamped with some much stuff last and this month that I barely had time to do anything else but schoolwork. I'm going to try to be better about updates from now on, especially considering how supportive people have been for this story.**

**To be honest, I am shocked at the level of encouragement and input that I've been getting from my reviewers. Shocked and overwhelmed. It's a really humbling thing for a writer to have received so much support, and I am very thankful. Truly I am. I simply hope that you will stay with me on our journey together, because your support helps me more than you could possibly fathom. My heartfelt gratitude goes out to everyone who has reviewed and favorited this story and all my other stories.**

**I have a few things to say about this chapter - there are a few loose ends that aren't going to get tied until the next chapter, something that I did on purpose. This chapter is mostly fluffy humor, but for those of you who have been hoping for something of a naughtier nature, I am pleased to announce that you'll be getting a taste of that in chapter 5. The twins will play a rather significant role there as well, for those of you who are fond of them and their antics. There's some implications about those two in this chapter that I think you'll enjoy. :3**

**Some clerical reminders - the contest for this fic is still up and running. Every 25th reviewer receives a 1000-word LeonxCloud fic, with the option of having the plot of their choise. The first's winner's fic went up on November 4th - The Situation Room, written for XxTypoMasterxX. All the more encouragement to review - you could be my next lucky winner. **

**Also, my LJ is still up and running, updated very frequently with news on how I and my writing are doing. You might want to check it out. :3**

**Now, onto the story. Enjoy, and don't forget to drop me a review when you're done. :3

* * *

**

**_Glasses and Braces IV_**

**Of Parents and Pi**

The soft sounds of Arabesque filled the brightly lit kitchen, claiming dance partner in the steam that swirled about the room in graceful arcs. The cheerful duo landed misty kisses to the curved clarity of his glasses, obscuring his vision and the solitary window in the room. It was a gray day outside, he knew from what he'd seen upon waking, the sky debating charity to the viridian beggars planted on busy streets. Leon hoped for its continued selfishness as he leaned against the counter, water pooling and spilling over his palms as he washed dirty pans.

The maid had just been in, asking him to let her clean up, but he'd gently dismissed her from the task. Around the kitchen was the evidence of clumsy success: small dustings of flour on the table and the floor and his cheeks. Broken egg shells, their viscous content hanging from their jagged edges. Puddles of vanilla, a usually steady hand quivering in uncertainty and pouring more libation to the counter than the mixing bowl. Scattered crystals of salt and sugar, so cleverly entwined that one could not distinguish saline from sweet.

And peculiarly shaped cutters, forged in metalshop out of scraps and a purpose.

He'd wanted absolutely no help with this task, turning away an overly excited Laguna who'd bounded downstairs the second he'd noticed ingredients spread out for use. Baking, to Leon, was a long-faded shard of childhood, shadows of the bright color it used to be dulled by a heavy coating of dirt. It had hurt to recall that memory, sequenced in a time where their kitchen had been a female's domain and a pink apron had hung next to Leon's tiny blue and Laguna's large, sunshine yellow.

He'd tried and failed to think of what he was doing objectively, more like the fulfillment of a chemical formula and less like a gently guiding voice asking if he wanted to lick the spoon. Eventually he'd settled on the occasion he was working for, thoughts of Cloud brightening the somber mood that had threatened him at this simple activity. He'd gotten through it well enough, considering, though unable to avoid the mess that he was now cleaning up. It was the oven's work now, its clear screen like the television Leon never watched, showing him the products of his bill of time.

A musical dinging echoed through the room just as he placed the last bowl in the drying rack. Anxiously, he dried his hands with a towel and plucked too-small oven mitts from their small kitchen drawer, suited for daintier hands than his own. Fingers squeezed uncomfortably, he reached into the sweltering box and withdrew his finished products, vision going fogged once more as two metal trays hit the cooling racks with careful strides.

He switched the oven off, surveying the first batch with a critical eye. Some of the cookies hadn't been cut as well as others and their shape was not as obvious, but nothing looked burnt. Relieved, he turned his attention to the second, smaller group, heart thumping. No burns, cut scarily well, and the raisins he'd added looked fairly normal.

Suddenly exhausted, he slumped against the wall.

_Never again._

The shrill ring of the phone cut through his restful silence, and with a groan he forced himself off the wall to go answer it. Putting it to his ear with a mumbled greeting, a familiar, somewhat breathy voice filtered through the line. Leon smiled.

"Good afternoon, Cloud."

"I am not providing a disturbance to any of your activities, am I?" The blonde sounded worried and a little nervous.

"It is alright. I was not busy." _Anymore,_ he mentally added, pulling out a chair and plopping into it with a relieved hiss. His body felt heavy and slow, the laborious turning of long-stagnant gears leaving him tired.

Cloud sounded more relaxed at his reply, and continued. "I was simply desirous of providing you with a reminder as to my address and the scheduled hour, Leon."

Reaching for the notepad that was kept next to the phone, he listened to his boyfriend talk, nervous excitement bubbling within him as he wrote. "Thank you, Cloud. Your reminder is most appreciated."

"You are very welcome," the blonde replied, and he could hear the smile in the teen's voice. "I cannot speak for much longer—there are some tasks that must reach completion before your arrival."

"I will allow you your freedom, then."

"My thanks. Travel with prudence."

Saying their goodbyes, they hung up, and he relaxed into the chair with a weary sigh. Soon, he would have to get up and get ready, but he'd worked hard.

He deserved a few minutes.

* * *

Ensconced in his comfortably messy study, Laguna worked away at his article, mouth fixed in a petulant pout as he reviewed his hastily taken notes. Writing about his interviews was something he usually loved, casting his mind back to those moments of conversation and elaborating every turn of phrase in excruciating detail. But today, the activity seemed tedious and boring, charred with the fires of burning curiosity. Towards his son.

He wanted to know what Leon was baking. And, more importantly, why he couldn't help.

Laguna _loved_ baking. Loved the work as much as the crunchy, chewy, or fluffy results, loved how so many different things came together to make something else. His favorite memories of Squall's childhood had been Saturday afternoons, the family picking out a recipe and tying each other's monogrammed aprons, the letters hand-stitched and raised to the touch.

_LL. SL. RL. _Always in the same order. He'd do his own first, deft fingers tying the knot behind his back before crouching to do the tiny indigo strings that trailed behind tiny feet. And then two pairs of fingers, one large and one small, would work together to fasten rose-colored ties behind a petite, softly curving figure.

After a time, there had been no more baking. Squall had become older, morphed into this Leon-person who lacked the round face and shining eyes and the important task of putting flowered oven mitts back into a designated drawer.

So what had prompted this recession into painfully delicious territory? Laguna wanted to know, and it was burning him up inside that he didn't. He'd given a fleeting thought towards patching that empty weekend space together, compensating for the missing apron and lacking smile. But as usual, he'd been turned away.

Mood dampening, he forcefully pulled his attention back to his article.

The phone provided a welcome distraction and he snatched it up, hoping that the caller would be someone to snap him out of his funk. Before he could speak, however, his son's smooth voice came through the line. Leon had obviously picked up the call downstairs. Hopes dashed somewhat, he was about to hang up when the sound of youthful, elevated diction carried through to him.

And not Leon's.

_Could this be...._that_ friend?_

His ear gave a pained throb as he pressed the phone harshly against it, but he ignored the sensation in his scramble for a clean piece of paper.

Laguna had dressed his son a few weeks ago for an outing, heart bursting with pride and hope for what he'd thought was a lost cause. Sure, he knew that Leon's friend was male, but perhaps his son could look past that? Sure, the only lovers his son had been interested in thus far were books and his computer. But he'd made enough effort to make himself a friend, right? Surely that showed some interest in the world outside his room?

It did, he thought with renewed glee, because the younger brunette would be going over to that boy's house this evening. For _interactive purposes_.

That wasn't too far a jump from romantic interest, was it?

How clueless his dear boy was, the man thought with affection, confused over what he so obviously wanted. What father would he be if he didn't show his son the light? This was his duty. His fate. His _destiny._ There was no other reason why he'd been handed the means to the other boy on a silver platter.

Fondly, he gazed down at the messily written address, paying the droning dial tone no attention.

His evening had just gotten a lot more interesting.

* * *

Azure eyes followed the two moving forms that had invaded his room, once more going through his clothing and calling out suggestions. He felt drained, eyelids fluttering and barely staying open despite the fact that he'd spent the day in bed—too nervous to get up and do anything except think.

A host of unpleasant scenarios had marched a black parade through his mind, starting in the wee hours of dawn and getting worse as the hours passed. The echo of a feminine voice was the sole constant in every unfortunate image, growing louder and shriller in intensity and condemnation.

Sighing, he rested his cheek upon his palm. The only reason he was going through with this was because he'd never hear the end of it if he refused. To be honest, he would have been perfectly content if his mother and boyfriend never met. He understood her reasons, but that didn't comfort him any.

"Cloud?"

He looked up, seeing identical gazes of concern fixed upon his figure. Offering no response, he tilted his head to show he was listening.

"Something wrong?" His youngest brother's voice was soft and cautious, as if dealing with a skittish animal.

Disliking the expression on the usually happy face, he replied in the negative, not wanting his brother to worry. "There are no flaws in my current state of being, Sora."

"Well...okay," the brunette conceded. "You were just kinda quiet over there, we were wondering." A bright smile lit up his face. "We done here, Roxas?"

"Yeah. Clothes are ready, dude," Roxas drawled from his comfortable slouch in Cloud's desk chair. "Strip and come get 'em. What's he like?"

Blinking at the sudden change in topic, the eldest sibling wiggled his way out of his still-donned pajamas and slid his foot into a pant leg. "We are...similar," he said softly, mood lightening somewhat at the thought of the scarred brunette. "I am not of the opinion that you will find him objectionable."

His bed creaked as Sora perched on it, eyes bright with questions. "Does he have any family?"

"His father," the blonde replied absentmindedly, mind lingering on the question as he pulled his shirt on. Leon hadn't mentioned any other siblings, and there was a big gaping hole of information about his other parent. "I am not sure about the existence of another familial party."

"What's his house like?"

"I am unaware. I have not yet been requested to sojourn to his residence."

"You guys had sex yet?" Roxas asked lazily from across the room.

Cloud had never thought it possible to choke on one's air, but the second he registered the question he went down gasping.

_"ROXAS!" _Sora yelled, rushing over with a hastily filled glass of water. Throat now sore and eyes watering, Cloud drank it, cheeks on _fire_. "Why the _hell_ would you ask him something like that?"

The younger blonde shrugged. "It's a valid question. Don't know what his problem is."

"_Problem?_" The brunette hissed, rubbing comforting circles on his brother's back. "Have you ever heard of _tact?_"

Roxas shrugged, completely unrepentant, as the harmonious sound of the doorbell chimed through the house. Sora forced him to sit on the bed and the familiar cool and wet spread over his lips—a welcome chill from the heat that flushed his face. "You okay, Cloud?"

He nodded jerkily, embarrassment creeping through him. He was _eighteen_, damn it. Such a question shouldn't have sent him spiraling.

"Hey, dude." A concerned light was shining in the younger blonde's eyes as he moved to sit next to his brother, putting a gentle hand on his burning cheek. "Tonight's going to go okay, okay?"

"You look great," Sora added with a small smile, brushing a blonde spike behind Cloud's ear. They'd chosen a simple pair of faded jeans and a sky-blue hooded shirt run through with navy stripes. "Blue's really your color."

Blushing in pleasure at the praise, he allowed them to pull him up and push him gently to the door. "I think Leon would like it better if you answered the door instead of Mom."

Nodding his assent, Cloud stole downstairs.

Barely a second after his departure, there was a loud knock at the window, a pair of emerald eyes peering through the glass. Grinning, Sora pushed it open and a silver-haired teen poked his head through.

"There's a Mercedes in the driveway and I know none of you owns it. This the big night?"

"Yeah," Roxas replied as Riku clambered his way in. "Mom couldn't handle the mystery anymore. Cloud's been silently freaking out all day."

"Going to give him hell?" the silvette asked, sliding off his jacket. In a black wifebeater, his toned arms were on display and neither twin had any shame in admiring the view.

"Probably not," Sora said, blue eyes roving hungrily over the older boy's figure. "He's also the nerdy type, so not much need. It'd kill Cloud if we did, anyway."

"And whatever we don't do, Mom will do for us," Roxas added, eyes fixed firmly on a spot below the teen's checkered belt.

"Think she'll mind an extra visitor? I want to see this."

"If she does, she'll get over it," Sora replied huskily, pleased at the mirrored fire in his brother's eyes.

Riku smirked.

All coherent speech in that room ended for the next few minutes.

* * *

Leon rang the doorbell and stepped back, adjusting his hold on the container of cookies and running a hand through his hair. The car ride had been agonizingly slow, his body overheated and his mind muddled as he tried to maneuver traffic. The selfish drizzle that the sky had allotted felt good on his face as he got out, cool and gentle and calming his nerves.

The heavy hinges on the wooden front door creaked as they opened, his heart speeding as a single blue eye peered at him from inside. With a shy smile, Cloud let him in, and he gave the place a once-over as he toed off each shoe. The room he'd entered had an earthy tone to it, the walls a pleasant green and the carpet a soft-looking tan. Pictures covered the walls, several sets of blue eyes staring out of their frames, but Leon's attention was drawn to the largest of them all.

It was a family portrait, professionally done, the three males and sole female of the Strife family featured against a neutral background. The brunette sported a blinding smile, eyes shining, while the younger blonde boy's expression was more subtle but just as happy. Leon smiled at the sight of Cloud in a tuxedo, eyes bright and hand resting lightly upon the last person's shapely shoulder.

It was this fourth figure that sent shivers up his spine.

Mrs. Strife was beautiful, there was no denying that. Soft-looking tendrils framed a pretty face, the same vibrant color as her son's. She held an air of refinement that was palpable in the picture, her classy black dress flattering her small frame and most of her hair swept in an elegant bun.

But her deep blue gaze—the same shade he'd fallen in love with—held little of the warmth that he could see in her children. If Cloud's eyes were clear, still pools, then hers were rushing torrents, seeking to drag victims to a watery grave.

Even as he looked away from the photo, he could feel her frozen stare, boring into his back.

Pointedly turning his attention to Cloud, he studied the teen's face, noting the nervousness in intense azure eyes. Slowly, almost shyly, he brushed his knuckles across one pale cheek, finding it hot to the touch. The blonde's name escaped him in a rush of warm breath, spoken softly on diffident lips, the gravity of the situation dropping over them like heavy tapestry.

"I am pleased that you completed the sojourn to my residence without incident, Leon," Cloud said softly, offering a small smile. "May I inquire as to the nature of your burden?"

He'd almost forgotten what he was carrying, and sheepishly he bent to answer the blonde's query. The gift bag crinkled merrily as he removed the large container from it. "I....felt it appropriate to procure a token of gratitude for your family," he said as he straightened. His heart thumped wildly as steady arms relieved him of his burden.

A surge of relief consumed him when Cloud cracked the lid open, the mild curiosity on the blonde's face turning to pleasure. "You contrived the entirety of this for us?" Blonde eyelashes flickered and swept to cover wide eyes as the teen leaned forward, taking a luxurious whiff.

"I did." Leon couldn't suppress the proud note in his voice as he replied.

"Their shape is even akin to that of...." The blonde laughed softly, leaving the sentence unfinished as he closed the lid and set the large bowl on the nearby coffee table. "This was not necessary, I insist."

"I desired to do it." Feeling brave, Leon reached into the bottom of the bag and removed another object, its contents carefully wrapped and tied off with curly ribbon. "I was aware of your predilection for raisins. I would request that you refrain from the distribution of these," he said as he pressed the gift into Cloud's hands. The blonde didn't speak as he undid the ribbon, the clear wrapping crackling as he parted it and stared down at the contents.

When he looked up again the brunette felt himself falling.

Leon loved Cloud's eyes. He'd always had: loved seeing the expressions that flitted though them, loved watching them brighten, loved their soothing calm and their gem-like brilliance. From chanced glances in a noisy room to the music of the spheres as breath met breath—the gentle blue was his sole addiction—a vice that would be happily confessed to all that chose to hear it.

And yet he'd never considered how Cloud felt towards _him_.

In the back of his mind, logical thought was stirring a coup d'état from its gradual fall, regaling him with grim possibilities of the blonde becoming bored or tired of him. With every bit of progress they made Leon's resolve strengthened—but that didn't stop the dark seed of doubt from blossoming black flowers.

Yet....at the look in his boyfriend's eyes....he was falling into those clear pools, happily pulled under by his own desire. Leon did not claim to be an expert on emotion, but the message in Cloud's eyes was evident and begging to be read, to be understood, to be _accepted. _

_Stay. This might not go well, but please....stay. I need...._

Without another thought, Leon bent down and answered that need.

Neither noticed the muted thump noise of the open bag falling, it having slipped from Cloud's quivering grasp for a fortunate landing on the coffee table. Warm and eager hands made their way to his chest and over his shoulders, one stroking the skin at Leon's nape and the other losing itself in coffee tendrils. The warm press of soft lips on his own was consuming him, raging fire setting the deadly sable blooms of his mind ablaze, the perfumed smoke of their pyre hazing any rational thought. Tentatively, his tongue touched at Cloud's parted lips, asking for entrance—an act they'd never done, and something that the brunette knew he should have requested verbal permission for.

Kiss faltering somewhat with sudden nervousness, he made to break away—and was pleasantly stunned at the repress of lips and the blonde's warm wetness touching his own. Slowly, almost shyly, his fingers trailed down Cloud's sides, linking together at the small of the younger boy's back. Leon heard the teen sigh into the kiss, pressing flush against him, another strange fire rising in his brain and blood from the still-glowing embers of flower death—

"If you are _quite_ finished mauling my son, Mr. Leonhart."

Leon almost bit down on Cloud's tongue in his haste to push away, cheeks burning with embarrassment and residual heat from the prolonged embrace. Cloud looked mortified, hands clasping and unclasping in front of him and eyes darting to anywhere in the room but the brunette or his mother.

Slowly, dread creeping through him, Leon raised his eyes to meet the gaze of Athena Strife.

She was classily dressed—almost overly so—a wine-red party dress with transparent sleeves encasing her small form. Her hair was now free and floating over her shoulders, framing those turbulent eyes and pursed red lips. The toes of one dainty foot tapped at a leisurely pace, as if she was figuring out a rhythm to a waltz instead of staring down the filthy teenager who'd been unabashedly feeling up her pure, virgin son.

Or at least, that was what the situation seemed like when fixed with her piercing stare. Almost of their own accord, his eyes drifted from her stern face to the one inconsistency in the beautiful, disdainful picture.

A stained kitchen knife was clutched tightly between perfectly manicured fingers.

Flinching slightly, he met her gaze once more, hoping that she hadn't taken his downward foray as anything indecent. It was obvious that she'd caught the small movement when her freshly painted lips curled into a smirk.

"Dinner is served."

* * *

Water streamed over his cupped palms as he flicked them under the running tap, smoothing damp fingers over his disorganized coif in an attempt to neaten the silver. A satisfied thrum pulsed through his body, afterglow pleasantly slow to fade despite the press of time and the ebbing of passion.

Three sharp raps on the door sounded before Sora stuck his head in. His hair was messier than usual—not that anyone would question it—and there was a sated quality to his expression that elevated the goofy grin to something less chaste. "Hey, stop primping. Time to go."

With a slow nod, he checked himself in the mirror one last time before leaving the bathroom. The blonde woman's back was to them as they entered the kitchen, fiddling with something on the stove before she turned around. Giving Sora an approving nod for his punctuality, her face contorted into a scowl as she set her sights on Riku.

"I do not recall extending an invitation to this gathering to you, Riku. Nor do I remember you ringing the doorbell."

Her expression was less than pleased, but after years of it he was far from cowed. "Come on, Aunt Athie," he said easily, nonchalantly leaning against the doorframe and using a nickname he knew she hated. The siblings' mother was just like Roxas—fire in an igloo—and exactly his type. With the subtraction of twenty-five years and most of his childhood, he wouldn't mind a romp with Mrs. Strife. "You wouldn't let me starve, would you?"

She stared at him with narrowed eyes for a minute. "You will help with the washing," was the final, dismissive reply as she turned back to the stove. Wincing, he moved past her into the dining room, Sora trailing behind him as he entered.

Roxas was already there, twirling a straw between his fingers and looking bored. Across from him sat Cloud, Riku's childhood babysitter and one-time love interest.

Like the rest of his family members, Cloud was attractive—but his bangability was somewhat muted by the blinding braceface and the genius reputation. Riku didn't consider himself stupid, but it was more than a little intimidating to date someone who did physics for fun. It didn't help that the teen was a total recluse.

Riku's sexual considerations toward the eldest sibling didn't matter much anymore, however, seeing as though Cloud had found a fuck mate all by himself.

He resisted the urge to applaud.

The sound of plates clinking filled the room as Athena brought out salad and bread. Refraining from rolling his eyes, he took the pans from her and she moved to take her seat. Mrs. Strife was about the only person on earth who still bothered to serve all food in courses—a tradition that exasperated the perpetually hungry Sora to no end.

Finishing the task with an inward snort, Riku took his seat and sighed in relief at the woman's nod of approval.

If he kept this up, there was a chance he'd get out of dishes.

"What is this container, Mr. Leonhart?" Athena inquired of the brunette quietly seated by Cloud's side. Said Mr. Leonhart jumped at the sudden sound, and Riku smirked as he mentally drew up a tally. _Inattentiveness. Minus three points._

"It is filled with cookies, ma'am," the brunette replied in a respectful tone. _Manners_, Riku mentally wrote. _Plus five points._

"Is it now?" A fine blonde eyebrow arched. "And would you care to explain why this container, filled with cookies that I have not accounted for, is sitting at my dining table?"

"To my knowledge, it is proper for a guest to bring a token of appreciation when taking dinner at another's home. I baked them this morning." Riku's own eyebrows rose, inwardly impressed at both the stranger and Cloud. _Initiative. Plus five points._

"Did you, now?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Coral lips suddenly smirked, and he inwardly felt a stab of pity for the older boy at the familiar expression on Athena's face. In some form or fashion, the brunette was about to be skewered. "And if your knowledge of propriety is so great, then why were these cookies not presented to the hostess upon arrival? Surely that would be preferable to molesting her son."

Sora and Roxas snickered, turning their gazes to the salad when sharp blue eyes fixed on them. The brunette had frozen in his seat, and Riku had half a mind to call the ambulance for a busted vessel in Cloud's face. _Face-sucking. Minus seven points._

Athena let the weight of her words sink in, lifting the lid of the container and cautiously removing a cookie.

The room went quiet. The brunette flushed.

It took a moment for Athena to speak the disbelieving thought on Riku's mind. "It is shaped like pi," she said finally, gazing at the baked good with an expression that was half bemused, half impressed. Biting into the irrational sweet, she chewed for a moment before her eyes grew brighter.

Riku's mental pencil was growing dull. Conjuring up a sharpener, he gave it a few turns before continuing to scribble. _Culinary skill. Plus four points._

Finishing the cookie, she dabbed daintily at her lips with a napkin before firing off a plethora of questions. "What is your name?"

"Leon, ma'am."

"What is your grade point average?"

"Four-point-zero, ma'am."

"What are your aspirations for the future?"

The newly-dubbed Leon paused over this question, getting his thoughts in order. "I plan to attend college, followed by an attempt to obtain a position in a laboratory and—"

"Yes, yes, all well and good," Athena said with a wave of her hand. Riku blinked as she clicked her fingers at him. "Riku, fetch the lasagna."

Shooting Sora a muted glare as the boy giggled, he walked into the kitchen, spotting the large foil pan on the stove and carefully lifting it. Carrying it into the room, he gently set it on the table before resuming his seat.

"It is already cut, please help yourselves," Mrs. Strife said before her gaze fixed once more on Leon. _Poor kid,_ Riku thought sympathetically as Sora seized the serving spoon. _Probably wishes he never left Starcraft for this._

"Do you have any family?"

"Only my father, ma'am."

"Does he know about your....relationship with my son?"

Leon flinched again, for a reason no one understood. "He is aware that I have made a friend, but he does not know that we are....involved."

"And why—" Athena never got to finish her sentence as the doorbell rang, sending a melodic chime through the house. The woman tsked before clicking at Riku.

"You. Get the door."

He shot her a look of disbelief before standing once more and heading for the door. Night had fallen outside the open windows, navy blue attaining dominance over retreating purple and pink. Shivering a little in the wifebeater, he glanced through the peephole before opening the door.

"Hi! Are you Leon's new friend?"

And the evening went to hell.

* * *

Leon was surprised. Leon was shocked. Leon was astonished, gobsmacked, flabbergasted and _horrified._ He didn't know how and he didn't know _why_. All he could register was the surreal fact that his father was sitting at Cloud's table.

In Cloud's house.

With Cloud's _mother._

"My son has won a number of prestigious awards," Mrs. Strife said in dulcet tones. Her ramrod-straight back had arched forward at some point and her flawless hair had gotten disorganized—requiring her to push it behind her ear with a lingering hand every few seconds.

Leon stared down at his lasagna, having absolutely no appetite. Beside him, Cloud looked worried, studying the pair of adults with brows furrowed. _If I disregard him, he will disappear...._

"Leon's a pretty smart cookie himself, you know," Laguna said cheerily, sipping the wine that Cloud's mother had offered before leaning forward with a wink. "He used to sneak into the medicine cabinet to mix together pills. Said he was trying to cure cancer."

A spill of blonde cascaded down Mrs. Strife's back as she tossed her hair over one shoulder and laughed at the joke. Laguna laughed along, leaning closer and casting a surreptitious glance down at the assets that were inadvertently put on display.

"Christ on a fucking cracker," he heard the silvette whisper to Sora. "Not surprised the dad doesn't know. If I was with someone I wouldn't tell him shit."

The brunette sounded choked. "He's macking on my mom!"

"I can't fucking take this." The youngest blonde—Roxas, he remembered—threw down his napkin. "I'm going outside." He met Leon's gaze. "You come too. Want to talk to you."

More than happy to escape—Mrs. Strife's coy giggles were addling his _brain_—he pushed back his chair and stood. Cloud moved to follow, but a call from his father stopped the blonde in his tracks.

"Cloud, darling, Laguna wishes to speak with you."

They exchanged a panicked look, the brunette hesitating. He couldn't subject Cloud to _that—_

"Not you, Leon. Run along and play," Laguna said brightly, waving him off. At a loss for a solution, he cast his boyfriend an apologetic look and followed the motley crowd outside, trying to ignore the terrified look in those deep blue eyes.

"Where's Cloud?" Roxas asked when Leon shut the front door behind him. The three were perched on the steps outside the house, staring at the sky.

"My father....waylaid him."

A sympathetic wince went through the group. "Your father's a fucking trip," the silvette murmured, taking a piece of candy out of his pocket. Contemplating it for a minute, he unwrapped it and popped it in his mouth.

"That's not nice, Riku," Sora chided, reminding Leon of the green-eyed boy's name. Riku shrugged.

"Dude." Roxas was looking at Leon with a thoughtful expression. "You like Cloud, right."

The question sounded more like a statement than anything else, and he nodded, not trusting his mouth.

"Take care of him, okay?" Sora said softly. All three of them were looking at him, and despite the creeping discomfort he knew this was important. "We were really worried about him for a while, there."

"He reads too fucking much," was Riku's sage input. "Keep him busy."

"And don't hurt him." Sora said, finally saying what they'd been dancing around. "He's been really happy these past few weeks. I don't want to see him sad again."

"None of us do." The hard candy in the silvette's mouth made a sickening crack through the nighttime air. "We'll fucking have your nuts if you fuck him up, by the way."

"We want a promise, dude," Roxas finished, crossing his arms. All three of them were eyeing him with expectant stares, and he couldn't help feeling a little ganged up on. Nonetheless, their concern and love for Cloud was obvious, and despite the rough delivery Leon's heart softened toward them all.

"I promise."

Sora hugged him then, tight arms squeezing his middle. Roxas and Riku were content with approving nods. The creak of the hinges sounded behind them, the door opening to reveal a distinctively green-looking Cloud.

"And that's our cue," Riku asserted, standing. Roxas waved, Sora gave a final squeeze, and then it was just him and his blonde under the nighttime sky.

"....did they say anything offensive to you?" came the quiet inquiry as Cloud sat on the step next to him. The blonde steps were somewhat shaky, and the brunette felt a rush of irritation at Laguna.

"They did not," Leon finally answered, deciding not to mention Riku's threat. "They simply wanted to inquire on a few points."

Eyeing the viridian tint on porcelain cheeks, he added, "Of what nature was the inquiry that my father made of you?"

Cloud turned even greener, a feat the brunette hadn't thought was possible. "I do not wish to discuss that matter at this present time."

Concern welled up inside him, but he assented with a nod. Comfortable silence reigned between them for several moments before cerulean depths turned on him.

"I apologize for what took place tonight, Leon." The blonde hugged himself around the middle, looking away. "My mother....she's very old-fashioned. And polite to the point of rudeness, at times."

"It's fine." Tentatively, he slipped an arm around Cloud's shoulders. "I apologize for my father, as well. I am still unaware as to how he got this address."

The blonde gave a quiet, slightly depraved chuckle. "Would you be displeased with me for finding your father somewhat disturbing?"

"I have that particular thought on a very regular basis."

Cloud smiled at him. "Abnormal familial parties aside....I am content that you are here."

"And I am pleased to be in your company," he replied quietly, moving closer.

From his closer vantage point, he could see the blonde's pallor switching from sickly green to the pink of slight embarrassment. "I had a subject that I wished to breach with you, upon reflection." he began, face flushed. "Concerning...our intimate preoccupations. Earlier."

Leon coughed, feeling a prickling heat spread to the bridge of his nose. "I apologize for my attempts at a new activity without your consent—"

"No, Leon, that is....that is not my area of concern." The pink deepened to a cherry red, but Cloud resolutely held his gaze. "You felt...different, in some form or fashion. I am simply curious as to the nature of this change, if it does indeed exist and is not a figment of my imagination."

"I simply had an epiphany, is all." He pressed a small kiss to Cloud's temple. The blonde smiled, reaching for something beside him.

"Cookie?" he offered, holding a raisin cookie by one leg from the previously unnoticed bag. Smiling, Leon grabbed hold of the treat's other leg and they broke it, the symbol of irrationality snapping neatly in half. After that, there was nothing else but the calm of the night, the sensation of warmth, and the taste of raisin on each other.

**_Fin_****  
**


	5. Of Christian and Roxanne

**Of Christian and Roxanne  
**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Rating: PG-13/R**

**Warnings: Citrus  
**

**A/N: I am SO. SORRY. For the immense delay on this chapter. So many things have been happening to me since the last time I updated that I haven't had the time or the motivation to write. Family issues, school issues, and a depression cycle, amongst other things. On a happy note, I did hit my sixteenth birthday on January 5th, but that was one of the few bright spots I've experienced during this time. I particularly wanted to update today, considering the defining moment in my country's history - the inauguration. I got to miss school to watch it on TV, which was why I was able to flit between watching CNN and writing the rest of this chapter. I promise that I will do my best to make sure that a delay like this never happens again.  
**

**I don't think it's a very good chapter, personally - it is shorter than normal, and doesn't feel up to my usual writing standard, in my opinion - but there is some plot development going on. And some sexy stuff, as well. Yes, the chapter is indeed a Moulin Rouge reference, as I listened to El Tango de Roxanne almost the entire time I was writing this. This is dedicated to Oblea, as usual, as well as those who commented to wish me a happy birthday on LiveJournal.  
**

**A note to Zombie Kid, my second contest winner - now that this chapter is out, your fic is next on my list. And I have a good idea of how to go about it already. So expect that soon.  
**

**Please enjoy. And don't forget to check my LJ for updates on me, as well as dropping me a review on this chapter when you're done.**

* * *

**_Glasses and Braces V  
_**

**Of Christian and Roxanne  
**

The weather had somehow regressed from blooming spring to cold winter, sharp winds searing through the streets and occasional raindrops escaping the sky. Sudden sunshine withdrawal seemed to do to people what it did to plants; the bright fabrics of spring were swapped for drab greens and browns, suiting the general drooping of disposition. This particular morning was no different: a dreary, dissatisfied Monday, where life itself seemed to have left the world and depression set in deep.

Classes hadn't started and wouldn't for a while, students taking the time to indulge in caffeine and camaraderie. Normally he would be among them, perking up in the company of friends with a hot cappuccino and a few good laughs. But he'd woken that morning with an odd tightness in his chest, passing his mother with a dull hello instead of the usual exuberant embrace. And as he left the house and stood on the sidewalk, he found that the last thing on his mind was happiness.

It was so that Zack Fair found himself walking around the football field, completely alone in the morning darkness. Students weren't allowed anywhere but the main building and the courtyard before school hours, yet he couldn't bring himself to care. Drops of moisture fell on his cheeks as he looked towards the sky, vaguely wondering if the sky would finally release the torrent it had been threatening all week.

But on their journey to contemplate the ground once more, his eyes stubbornly caught onto a figure in a distance and refused to let go. Squinting, he turned his face completely upward, unable to believe what he was seeing.

And then his heart sped up, wildly slamming against his ribs, violet eyes widening as he wildly wondered how he'd only _just_ noticed. Silver hair streamed out behind its owner in a magnificent banner, thirty feet above Zack, somehow standing out from the gray backdrop of the despondent sky.

Sephiroth was here.

_Sephiroth_ was _here_, in the same place as himself, Zack Fair. And yet so far from his reach, perched near the top of the school's bleachers while he looked up from the ground. Seph always seemed far away, even when by his side. And there was always, _always_ too much interference for him to even try to breach that chasm.

But they were alone now—though alone was a normal state of being, he had to admit. He loved his friends, the same ones that Sephiroth spurned, but at times he felt disconnected from them. As if they were in a sphere he couldn't enter.

Alone _together._ That was the important part.

For a moment, he wavered. He'd come to the field for solitude himself, so it stood to reason that Seph was here for the same purpose. Would he be upset if Zack tried to interrupt?

He'd be quiet, if Seph wanted. Talking wasn't as pressing a need as most people thought it was for him. He could be quiet.

And with that, Zack Fair began to climb.

Sephiroth's magnificent head hardly moved as the other teen neared, though at some point his hair had been restrained—now tucked into his sweater. There was an object in his hold, and he was staring down at it with a facial expression that faintly disturbed the center. Quietly, he took a hesitant seat next to the taller male—unable to deny his nervousness due to the lack of acknowledgement, but dammit, he would stay for as long as he could.

A few minutes passed, the rustling of wind in trees giving soundtrack for their silence. Every cell in his body cried out for _something_, some word, some action to let him know he was welcome. He didn't relish the thought that he was imposing on Sephiroth's space, that he was being a bother.

So caught up in internal worries was Zack, that he didn't notice said object being offered in his direction.

Sephiroth said nothing as he held it out, but a feeling of warm relief coursed through the shorter male as he took it between cold fingers. It was thicker than normal paper—a photo, he realized—and it looked old, as if Seph had been harboring it for some time. Gingerly, he flipped it over, expecting to see a relative or other.

He was shocked to be met with piercing blue eyes and a somewhat shy smile. Seph's own green pair stared out from behind the shoulder of the boy called Cloud.

"I ruined Riku's relationship in my sophomore year," Sephiroth said softly, staring out at something only he could see. "With a redhead, went by the name of Kairi. They were happy together."

Pink lips briefly thinned, as if the words were fighting him. "She was kind," he finally forced out. "She didn't deserve what I did to her."

"What happened?" Zack asked after a beat of silence, wisely changing his question from _what-did-you-do._ The last thing he wanted was for Seph to feel accused.

"I planted a seed of doubt in her mind as to Riku's sexuality." Seph's speech came easier now, settling into a velvety baritone, an oddly amused tone to it. "I then amassed a collection of photographs, all featuring groups of male pornography stars, and inserted Riku's face into them."

Zack couldn't suppress a snort. "What'd you do with the pictures?"

"I did nothing." Sephiroth pulled off innocence surprisingly well, despite his obvious guilt. "It was no fault of mine that said pictures were found plastered on Riku's walls."

Zack laughed at the mental image, light and airy and warm. The corners of Seph's mouth quirked slightly, but then the light of amusement faded in his viridian depths and the younger male sobered.

Silence reined for a few weighty seconds, the elder collecting his thoughts. "Riku was very distraught, and Mother was furious. My punishment was to last a summer's time, in addition to an apology."

Sephiroth took a deep breath, stuttered and shuddering, like the throaty rattle of a snake. "A forcible enrollment in etiquette camp."

The center forced himself to suppress a rabid giggle, as there was no humor in Seph's expression. "And that's where you met Cloud?"

"Yes and no." Sephiroth offered a bare nod. "I had known of him in the past; he looked after Riku in our younger years when I could not be coerced into doing so. But I did not...." here he paused, and looked at Cloud's frozen face with a depth of emotion that unnerved Zack.

_Just how much sway does this kid have over Seph?_

"I was....reluctant to make acquaintance with anyone else at that establishment," he said finally. "Strife was acting as junior counselor. I suppose he'd taken the post for the sake of his transcript, or something of that nature. He was notoriously shy." Sephiroth shook his head, snow-feather strands moving gently about his face. "I will admit to befriending him to take advantage of his authority, initially...."

His voice tapered off, the unsaid words lingering between them in a language Zack couldn't grasp. Seph's fists had clenched tightly, aristocratic fingers curled inward and leaving half-moon prints on his lily-white palms.

"What changed?" Zack asked.

Sephiroth's gaze turned to him at last, for the first time since they'd sat. And fierce green lightning seared through his very being—illuminating every shadowed corner of his heart—searching, probing for _something_.

"We maintained a friendship after the summer. I became....attached."

Zack tried to ignore the sudden stabbing in his chest.

A pregnant pause hung between them, suffocating and long. Sephiroth's fount of words seemed to have finally run dry—lips pursed and bloodless, face turned away. Outside their awkward haven the sound of engines intensified, the hour drawing near for classes to begin. Zack was running out of _time_, the grains of hourglass sand streaming through his grasping fingers before he could catch hold.

And then Seph was moving, rising, deft fingers sliding the photo out of Zack's limp grasp. He watched as it disappeared, tucked safely in an inside pocket. "Then what happened?" he blurted out, quailing somewhat under the resulting sharp stare but unwilling to retract the words. He'd _wanted_ this. This closeness—though wrought with awkwardness and bitterness and broken language—he'd _craved_ it. _Needed_ it.

It couldn't just end. Not like this.

Sephiroth laughed, a low, ominous rumble in his chest that reminded Zack of an earthquake. "What does it matter?"

"It matters," he responded quickly, watching the spark of surprise dance around each green iris. The laughter stopped. "It's....bothering you, isn't it?"

They stared at each other for long moments. He couldn't look away from Seph's pinning stare—it was as if some spell had been cast, linking his survival to the lock of their eyes. So intent was Zack's forced scrutiny that he didn't see the hand moving upward.

Not until it brushed against his face.

Sephiroth said nothing, even as the first period gym class spilled out onto the field and their silence was broken by meaningless chatter. He simply held his fingers there, letting them linger, before they fell away. And then he was gone, hands in the pockets of his black jacket, garnering appreciative stares from the passing students. All was, once more, in order.

The breeze picked up, a gentle whisper against the skin of Zack's cheek.

* * *

The window had been shut an hour ago, the lack of breeze from the nighttime chill allowing the room to warm up and then to swelter. Cotton sheets draped over the edge of the bed, the frenzied movement of wanton bodies pulling them in rumpled disarray before rejecting them altogether. Racing pulses throbbed like death drums beneath bared skin, scraped and dotting blood from the harsh rake of scrabbling nails. They had not been gentle—knees and palms were red and slightly raw from inevitable blanket burn, muscles sore and strained from dominance and submission.

Roxas was asleep already, damp blonde spikes darkened by sweat and shining in the dim lamplight. Having spent most of their erotic play sandwiched between the other two, he was understandably exhausted, and they'd let him be after brief kisses to his flushed cheeks.

Both of the remaining were awake, however, enjoying the post-coital silence.

Silver hair fanned out over the soft skin of the brunette's chest, moving gently with the rhythm of the blue-eyed one's breathing. Affectionate fingers were twined in the ashen locks, stroking softly, gentle and unhurried.

Riku was far too used to attention, if he did say so himself. He'd grown up with it—the admiring glances of lustful strangers, the hateful stares of jealous rivals, the disappointed gazes of his parents when he failed to emulate their precious Sephiroth. But such things were fleeting—brief and fueled by bursts of emotion that faded into cold indifference.

He'd never had anything like _this—_pure devotion, offered to him without restraint. And he savored every moment of it.

Sora's touch was measured and continuous, the type of unconscious rhythm one fell into while idly stroking a kitten. They couldn't see each other from their respective positions, but experience told him that the brunette was deep in thought. If he were to ease himself up the other's body—the sensual brush of naked skin on naked skin pulling forth a pleased sigh—he would see stars in the other boy's eyes. All his thoughts on full, shining display.

Roxas once joked that the planets Sora visited regularly were using him as real estate. Riku had chuckled at the somewhat flimsy gag, but the thought had found a place in his mind and quietly settled there. Sora was the type to fill his soul with passions and dreams and laughingly set it free, only to be surprised when it returned with a new dimension and a yearning for home.

Briefly, Riku reached across the sheets, trailing a finger down the defined arch of his lover's back. The blonde shivered, but did not wake.

"I think we broke him, Riku," was Sora's frank comment, shifting with a quiet groan beneath Riku. He took this as a cue to rise from the brunette's chest, settling himself instead on the pillow beside that brown head.

"He enjoyed it, didn't he?" the silvette yawned. Burrowing down in the bedclothes with two warm bodies and hours stretched ahead seemed like a perfect idea.

"Course he did," Sora replied. And it wasn't the bland statement that made Riku sit up and take notice, oh _no_, because those words alone were as exciting as earwax. It was the sultry, almost beckoning tone with which they were released upon the air. The unconscious caress of every single, uninteresting sound.

"Did you?" was the obvious inquiry, the next step in their little game. Riku was wide awake now, the first flushes of pink arousal rising in his alabaster cheeks.

"Duh." The infantile reply was accentuated by a lazy stretch, slender limbs falling every which way in a welcoming sprawl. The only care taken was of their slumbering bedmate's space; all else about the brunette's pose was like he lacked a care in the world. Only the quickened hardening at the junction of crème thighs betrayed any internal struggle; smirking, Riku reached between Sora's legs.

They took their time this session, the innate desire to rut like animals cooled at the falling of dusk. It was night's turn to assert its dominance: the light of the moon spilled through the window panes and fell upon them in silver streams. It was patient, calm—subtle sensuality winning over the red inferno that had first seen their passions ignite.

He started with the pale skin of his lover's elegant throat, cattily nipping at hours-old bites that littered the expanse of white. Down that path he followed, pressing his lips to the jutting bone of Sora's collar and traveling across to map out a shapely shoulder. The brunette made no move to protest, letting Riku do as he wished, his deep, satisfied breathing almost matching that of his sleeping twin's.

It wasn't long before the silvette tired of this, moving downwards to the lean definition of Sora's chest. The skin was slightly tougher here—pulled over developing muscles, the rewards of strenuous athletic work. The dusky pink nubs of the brunette's nipples almost seemed out of place on the masculine display, daintily small and catching his attention. His fingers touched first, rolling and massaging between searching fingertips. Then was his mouth, lapping gently before scraping playfully with perfect teeth.

The brunette keened, a brief but pleasing sound, back arching. Riku wanted to hear it again. Greedily, he set about a delightful torture of the delicate buds, teasing each with teeth and tongue before pulling back to blow on the moistened skin. A broken moan wrenched its way from Sora's throat, hanging in the air like so much suspended glass before crashing and breaking over Riku's listening ears.

_"Please..."_

He'd heard that sound before, heard it in a two-part chorus from identical writhing bodies as they reached the end of their rope. Taking pity on the panting boy, he moved lower still, confronted with his lover's stiff erection. He grasped it by the base, wickedly savoring the subsequent choked-off scream before relaxing his throat and taking it into his mouth.

Riku was not the best at fellatio in their group, a fact made obvious by his immediate urge to gag. That position was taken by Roxas—somehow able to swallow the entirety of both their stiff cocks without so much as a hiccup. He'd often attributed all that skill to too many sea-salt ice cream pops before the blonde swallowed and Riku lost all coherent thought.

He counted himself lucky that Sora didn't mind the splutters and coughs before he got himself under control. Rhythmically, Riku began to bob his head—touching the shiny, moist cap to the tip of his lips before drawing it in and applying pressure. Sora's hand had again found its way to his hair, pulling and tugging on his silver locks in an attempt to ground himself.

"Gods, Riku, _gods...._"

There was a steady throb in Riku's head—his own pulse, or Sora's, he couldn't tell—but it was loud and insistent and blocked out everything else. He lost himself in his lover's pleasure, his own need hard and pressing against his flesh, crying out for him to sate it. One hand remained wrapped around the brunette's erection as the other traveled downward and encircled his own, spreading the drops of moisture around the tip with his thumb.

"I want—" Sora was having serious trouble making his throat work, coherent speech lost in the myriad of sensation. It took several minutes before he could speak, only after Riku ceased his ministrations long enough to listen. "Turn over. I want to suck you—"

Later, Riku would credit their reactions to the following occurrence as sheer fucking luck. If he'd still been sucking Sora off he was sure he wouldn't have heard the three timid knocks on the door.

"Fuck!" the brunette hissed, and suddenly Riku's world turned gray. "Don't move!"

Every muscle in Sora's body was pulled taut, attention rapt on the slowly opening door as if some soul-sucking monster was lurking on the other side. The image he was graced with was nowhere as dangerous—only a shy-looking Cloud, clad in soft blue pajamas.

The brunette let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding, fervently hoping that his brother wouldn't sit on the bed. Offering a half-forced smile, he motioned somewhat pointedly to the empty desk chair as he tried to clear his frazzled thoughts. Riku's breath on his still-sensitive cock wasn't helping matters at all.

"What can I do for you, Cloud?"

Gingerly the blonde sat, twiddling his thumbs. "I....well," he coughed, a slowly darkening tinge of pink spreading over the bridge of his nose. "I have several...queries to converse with you about, Sora. Of a...delicate nature."

_Oh?_ "Sure, what's up?

"Lately I have been experiencing particular....things, for Leon. Feelings, sensations, emotions. I do not know what to call them." The blonde paused, gathering his thoughts. "I cannot ascertain what they are supposed to signify."

"Yeah?" The brunette sat up fully, interest piqued. After the semi-disastrous dinner the blonde had gone completely mum on the subject of Leon. Any info they'd gotten was from eavesdropping on their mother's weekly chats with the brunette's dad. "Feelings like what?"

"Perhaps an example would be better." The blonde's gaze fell away from his own, obviously too embarrassed to look his brother in the eye. "We were in the library yesterday, perusing several volumes of research."

"Mm-hmm."

"And....I don't recall exactly what took place, but....a series of consecutive events culminated in amorous and prolonged adjacent movement of our oral cavities."

Sora blinked.

Cloud sighed. "We....made out, as you say."

"Well _God_, Cloud, why didn't you just _say_ that?" The brunette exclaimed joyfully, suppressing the urge to _sing_. "This is totally awesome! Oh, is he a good kisser?"

"I...I have no way of determining that," his brother confessed, blushing slightly. "But I am admittedly concerned."

"About what?" Sora offered a brilliant smile. "You're together, aren't you?"

"Yes, but...." The light pink dusting on the bridge of Cloud's nose deepened to a rosy red. "It felt abnormal, in some manner. Like a foreign type of....heat."

The brunette grinned. "Well, duh, Cloud. You're going to want to have sex and do all that other stuff at some point."

"....sex?"

There was an awkward pause.

"....you do know what that is, don't you?" the brunette asked warily.

Cloud rolled his eyes. "I have completed elementary and advanced biology, Sora. It makes little sense for me to want to copulate with Leon considering that neither of us can bear children."

The nearby wall looked particularly inviting for a nice, solid, cranial bang. "Cloud, it's not....sex isn't about babies, okay?"

The blonde stared. "Yes, it is."

"Well, yes, but—but not entirely." A muffled snicker came from under the heavy blankets. Riku was obviously enjoying this. "You....you kiss and have sex and stuff because it feels good. And so you can get closer to the other person."

"But....do the feelings I'm experiencing mean that I have to do it straightaway?" His brother looked pained. "I am not comfortable with the idea of that. I enjoyed what occurred, but....it felt strange."

"Oh, Cloud...."

Confusion and sadness clouded those clear blue eyes. "I...I do not want things between Leon and I to change."

Sora wished that he wasn't naked. The blonde looked so forlorn, sitting there like that—his mind screamed at him to cross the room and hug his distressed sibling. "I think you should talk to Leon about this, Cloud," he advised softly. "Tell him you want to take things slow."

"You hold the opinion that this is the superior course of action?"

"Um....well, yeah, I think this is the best thing to do."

"Then I will talk to him." The blonde rose from his seat, offering a wan smile. "I thank you for your positive input."

"No problem!" Sora replied cheerily, and offered a jaunty wave as Cloud walked out the door.

"That was fucking _priceless_," was Riku's sage comment as he flung the covers off himself and sat up. "Poor Cloudy needs sex advice. Never thought I'd see the day."

"Don't be mean, Riku," he said, swatting his boyfriend lightly. "He's never been in a relationship before or even liked someone, as far as I know. He doesn't know these things."

"It was decent of you to help him, though," the silvette said. His eyes were soft as he looked at Sora, causing a small storm of excited butterflies to flutter in the brunette's chest. Almost two years of dating and that feeling hadn't gone away. Sora hoped it never would.

"Well, he's my brother," he replied sleepily as Riku pushed him back, slowly, carefully into the bedsheets. "I want to make sure he's okay."

"Mmm," came the intelligent reply, accompanied by a yawn. The earlier relapse of desire seemed to have cooled entirely, as Riku turned off the lamp and spooned him. Yet they were both withheld from sleep by sudden movement and a deep groan; bleary blue eyes peeked open and pale limbs stretched upward. "Whassamatta?"

"Nothing, Roxas," Riku replied as he reached over Sora, his lips finding the skin of the small blonde's cheek before settling back into his spot. Roxas shifted, his swirly head moving to rest on Sora's shoulder.

"Go back to sleep."

* * *

He woke with a start in the middle of the night, skin quivering and mind hazed. Images flashed past his mental eye, things he couldn't remember seeing but which seemed all too real in the pre-dawn darkness. His heart thumped away at his ribcage, resuming its battle to break the sturdy bones with renewed vigor.

Bemused, Leon settled back among the pillows and closed his eyes in an attempt to fall asleep. But something was raging within him that was impossible to ignore. He flashed back to the library, Cloud's soft lips under his own—and his mind rushed to provide extra stimulation—from kissing to pushing the blonde atop the worktable, sweeping books and papers out of the way—

The sleekness of his silk boxers was maddening. _Maddening_, for some reason he couldn't understand. Moaning, he squirmed, pulling them off and exposing himself to the cold night air. His pulse pounded in his ears, blood rushing, thoughts clouding until he could register only that he was hard—painfully so—too much to allow him to fall asleep again.

Almost timidly, his hand began a slow journey down his body before it hesitantly encircled his length. The stiff flesh was shamefully damp when he touched it.

This felt wrong. On some level, this felt wrong—like he was doing a bad thing, a wicked thing. But that firm hold felt so deliciously _good_, strange and unfamiliar as it was, and the sharp streaks of pleasure that spiraled through him commanded he _not stop_.

Visions of blonde took over his thoughts, the dream-Cloud smiling temptingly with eyes bright and limbs askew. He imagined lying over that lithe body, enveloping it in his arms, snaking deft fingers under that white button-down to touch the pale skin underneath—

A whispered curse fell from Leon's lips before he muffled it with the pillow and spilled out into his hand.

Panting and sweaty, he groped around for the discarded boxers and cleaned himself off. His last thought before sleep took hold was the wish for the dream to be real.

_**Fin**_


	6. Author's Note

I have not updated this thing in five months. My God.

Look, guys, I'm....I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I haven't been keeping up with this. It's not that I don't want to continue—I do, and I will. I've just had....guys, it's been a truly horrible few months for me and I haven't had the inspiration. I haven't been looking at my fanfic folder for weeks at a time, and when I did I'd open the document, stare at it, tear up and then close it again. It was....it was really bad, and I broke the promise I made, and I'm just....I'm just sorry. I don't even know what to say. If you've been keeping up with my livejournal, you know how neurotic I've been lately.

The next chapter is coming, it'll be up before the end of the month. Again, my sincerest apologies, and I can only hope that I have a few readers left after months without a word.

-Miroir


	7. Of Us and Them

**Of Us and Them**

**By: Miroir du Symphonie**

**Beta'd By: DDL  
**

**Fandom: Kingdom Hearts**

**Chapter Rating: PG-13**

**Warning: Language  
**

**A/N: OMG, guys~ I'm actually posting something here! Yay! I've solved my issues (and my issues' issues) for the time being, and I feel well enough to go ahead with this. (AND I'M A SENIOR NOW, GUYS! CLASS OF 2010 FTW!) Admittedly, the chapters are going to get shorter by at least half, because the 10-page deals I was doing were stressing me the fuck out. I actually wrote half this chapter - a completely different version - and scrapped the whole thing, and wrote this version tonight when I was supposed to be studying AP Bio. *is probably going to suffer for that* Better to have shorter installments than try for long and have nothing at all, right? But I will be updating regularly, as well as continuing my other small project, This Lullaby. Thanks so much everyone for not forgetting me during my months of hardship. You're all wonderful. :'D And this chapter is dedicated to all of you, but especially Cattypatra and my awesome beta, DDL. *clamps rose in teeth and scatters rose petals in DDL's path* Thanks a million for all your support!  
**

**Check my livejournal often for updates - http :// mdsymphonie . livejournal . com. Just remove the spaces. :3  
**

**En garde, bitches~! And leave this poor author a review, will you?  
**

**

* * *

**

_**Glasses and Braces VI**_

**Of Us and Them**

The sun hung thickly, shyly, its nervous presence unwanted in the sweaty town. Thin clouds moved about, stubborn dust bunnies that clung to the blue expanse. They did nothing to block the mid-spring heat, nor to stop the rays that settled heavily in his brother's lifeless hair. Its luster had faded in the last week, paled from bright gold to the browning yellow of a rotten banana; his eyes had done the same, now a dull navy. His shoulders, stocky to his twin's svelte, were tightened. Angry.

Cloud's own toes were white, blood welling in the balls of his feet as he peeked, demi-pointe, around the kitchen wall.

The house was silent, its bedrooms bare. He'd driven Athena to the airport last week for a conference in Twilight Town that she'd seemed suspiciously excited about. Sora rushed out with an armload of luggage a few days ago and never came back; their mother hadn't seemed overly concerned when he reported this to her. Leon was also off, bullied into a trip with his father that he was none too happy about.

A gentle flush inundated Cloud's face as his mind sank into the gutter and pulled up the night before Leon's departure.

There was no moon and no light in the house when they'd crept downstairs, into cool darkness, the basement door shutting with a reverent click. Leather creaked lowly; they sat, moving, getting comfortable, reaching out. Within minutes the temperature rose sharply and Cloud found himself gasping for air, his skin flushed a rosy pink beneath his sweaty collar. Leon handled things with gentle fingers, gripping and turning, eyes a stormy gray—neither expected the sharp gasp and low groan that rumbled the brunette's chest as hot liquid spilled over his pale hand.

And Cloud screamed. Loudly.

That had never happened before, not to him, not here. It was a lucky thing he kept bandages and a pot of burn salve around.

Just in case.

He could remember Leon's sheepish smile as Cloud washed and treated his burned hand, offering to replace the spilled fluid. It was nerves, Leon said, as they sat together on the lab stools. He wasn't used to handling other people's chemicals, only his own, and Cloud used a type of flask that was foreign to him. He couldn't bring himself to make Leon worry and shyly refused the entreaty, deftly extinguishing the Bunsen burners and letting the room cool down.

But Leon had liked his basement workspace—the highlight of the night. Cloud had never felt more proud of his research. And the brunette had kissed him, softly, sweetly, injured hand curling gingerly on his cheek. He'd left the next day.

And now Cloud was here, in this lifeless house, watching his sibling stare out into the street. This was nothing like Roxas' usual contemplations; this felt noxious, acidic, burning empathetically in the older blonde's stomach. He couldn't stand to watch it.

"Roxas?"

Roxas looked up. His gaze was hollow. Cloud fidgeted. "I....I find myself coveting a frozen, artificially flavored and colored treat. Would you accompany me to the nearest retail establishment?"

His brother stared blankly, as if not seeing him at all, before nodding glumly.

"Yeah. Okay."

* * *

"You favor sea salt, yes?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

The sun had sunk slightly in the sky, and a pleasant breeze ruffled his skirt as they walked the dry sidewalk. Summer was dawning months early and it was now too hot for his normally stuffy wear—no one had foreseen that the weather would change so quickly—and he doubted that he'd owned a pair of shorts since his prepubescent years. He'd never had a reason to venture outside during summer or school breaks, preferring to sweat over research in the basement and beg his mother for an air conditioner.

But it was so _hot,_ and Roxas seemed depressed, and the house was so empty and the white garment looked inviting, tossed in a corner of his closet after his date so long ago. There was no one around who would fuss about the change.

Leon had liked it, he remembered. He would have to ask the twins to take him shopping for the summer, now that he had a reason to care about his appearance....

But thinking of the twins made Cloud remember the one beside him, letting his ice pop drip sadly on the thirsty concrete.

"Roxas—"

"Cloud, can we talk?" His voice sounded choked, forced, as if he was struggling to swallow a frog. The elder changed directions without comment, making for the shady benches of the park.

Roxas did not speak again until pavement touched dirt, coarse grass tickling their bare ankles. His shaking fingers clenched the wooden ice-pop stick tightly, blue leaking into his white palm. "They didn't even _consider me_," he blurted suddenly. The tremble spread to his arms. "It's always been _them_. The two of _them_, I was just some—some fucking add-on—"

His voice cut off sharply, and he flung the uneaten treat. Cloud watched him stare at it, now covered in dirt, a few feet away. He felt confused. "Who—"

"I was fucking Sora," came the blunt admission. Cloud blinked. "I've shared with him all my life, since we were born, birthdays and friends, and took care of him, and I don't....I don't know when it changed, but I wanted _that_ with him, and I found out he wanted it too, but he didn't want to leave his precious _Riku_ behind." Roxas snorted. His empty fingers curled sharply inward, as if Riku's pale neck was clutched between them. "_Fucking_ Riku."

"You and.....our brother? Having....sex?" He couldn't get his mind around it, though his cheeks flushed as the lewd word cleared his lips.

"Yeah."

"Roxas...." Cloud began, well and truly shocked. "That's—"

"I know, okay? Just—not now, Cloud. You can yell at me later, but not now. Just _please _don't tell Mom?" His brother's expression was desperate and his eyes shone, begging Cloud to say that he wouldn't. Slowly, the older blonde shook his head.

"I....no," he said awkwardly, still feeling unsettled. "I am startled, but I will not tell our mother if you do not wish me to. We _will_, however, discuss....that. But later."

With a meek nod, Roxas went on, talking more to himself than to Cloud. "It wasn't that I minded sharing with Sora, I wanted to share everything with Sora. But I minded sharing _Sora_, minded it a hell of a lot, because he and fucking _Riku_ had always had something together that I couldn't be a part of, no matter how much I wanted to. But I wanted to make Sora happy, so I went along with it, for a fucking _year_...."

"You never seemed this....enraged....about the situation," Cloud hedged timidly.

"It sucked to start with," his brother replied, "but it got better. I got to thinking after a while that maybe I could deal with doing both of them. Riku wasn't....bad. He treated us good, and he had a nice sense of humor, and he fucked well. Really well."

A bitter, nostalgic smile curled on Roxas' lips, and Cloud privately thought that that was more about Riku than he'd ever wanted to know.

"But, see, Riku never liked talking about the future. He made that a rule among us three. Said that things in his family were shaky and left it at that, and I respected it the best I could. But then we'd fuck, and I'd doze off, and when I woke up I'd hear them talking. Making plans...."

A small tear wound slowly down the boy's cheek, but he didn't seem to notice it.

".....about how Riku would get some money for inheritance—not much, since he was the youngest, but a little bit. And how they'd crash by you and Leon for a bit after graduation and go job hunting, and then use the inheritance money as a down payment on a small apartment for themselves in the summer before college—"

Roxas began to cry in earnest, softly, hiding his face in his sticky hands. And Cloud saw the little boy that his brother had been, the one who'd trembled at lightning and feared the dark.

He could do nothing but hold out his arms and let his sibling fall into them, sobbing. "They never mentioned me in any of it," he burbled out. "Not once. And then _fucking_ Riku's brother—the oldest one—got two free tickets to the Atlantis resort with his trophy at the sports banquet, but said he didn't want them, and gave them to Riku, and he came over all excited about it, waving the envelope around like a goddamn flag—"

"Is that where Sora is?" Cloud asked softly.

Roxas coughed, shaking, and nodded. "They forgot I was in the room—just stared at each other, like it was no question which one of us would be left behind. I can't do this anymore, Cloud—I'm sick of sharing, sick of _giving_ and never getting back. But sometimes Sora smiles at me, and he's so fucking beautiful that I wonder if I should just settle for what I have now—"

"Your uncertainty is more than reasonable, Roxas," Cloud interrupted, alarmed. "I do not claim to be any sort of authority on these matters, but if you are unhappy, you shouldn't deign to stay that way."

"I just want to matter to someone, Cloud. I want to be looked at the way Sora looks at Riku, like he hung the fucking moon or something. I want...." the younger blonde looked away.

Silently, Cloud squeezed him tighter. There was silence, as they watched the sky ignite.

"I got my snot all over you," Roxas finally pointed out, smiling weakly and standing, his fount of words run dry. Cloud wasn't sure if he'd handled the situation right—if at all—but the light in his brother's reddened eyes had relit itself, and that was enough for him.

"This garment is machine washable. It's quite alright."

"I'm kinda wishing I didn't toss that ice cream now. All that crying made me hungry."

"I will order pizza?"

"I don't like the pizza you order."

"Why ever not?"

"Because you put olives on it, and that's fucking nasty...."

Laughing and shoving, they ambled out of the park—towards home, towards the setting sun.

_**fin**_


End file.

Kingdom Hearts, Humor, Romance