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therainbowwillow · 3 years

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When Hell Freezes Over AU: Part 6

Apologies for the wait. I honestly did not have an idea for what, exactly, I wanted to happen. Then I found inspiration! And then Tumblr deleted my draft. So... overall, this took far too long. Enjoy! There will be an epilogue shortly.

As Hermes approaches the bar, he notices the air has already begun to warm. People trickle into the streets to witness the miracle they’d played no role in causing. How many of them had refused to help search for Orpheus? How many deaths could’ve been avoided if they’d found him sooner? How much of this had been his fault? As he’d run home, Hermes had seen so clearly every mistake he’d made. Every one of them could easily lead Orpheus to his death.

At a glance, the boy looks dead already. Orpheus’s faint heartbeat and shallow breaths remind Hermes that he still has a chance, a slim chance, to survive. He spares the bar no more than a glance, instead turning towards the train station. The cars are always pleasantly heated, another of Hades’s attempts to appease his wife. He lifts Orpheus inside and gently lays him across a booth.

Hermes finds a stack of blankets under a seat. He drapes them over Orpheus, bundling him up like a young child. He brushes the young man’s wet hair out of his eyes and takes a seat beside him. Orpheus tosses in his sleep, draws in a shaky breath.

Orpheus gasps and sits bolt upright. Hermes catches him before he falls back against the booth. “Orpheus?”

“We... we need to go,” Orpheus stammers.

“We don’t need to go anywhere. Eurydice will be here soon.”

“I can’t let them hurt her,” he pleads. “The Furies will come for us.”

“No, Orpheus, we’ll be fine.”

“Take me to Hades. Let him decide what will become of me. But if he lays so much as a finger upon Eurydice, I swear to the Styx-”

“Orpheus...” Hermes warns.

“I swear to the Styx I will end him.”

Hermes pulls him closer. “Hades has kindness in his heart. You’ll both be alright.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean-”

“Hush. I don’t want your apologies.” Hermes pops the cork out of a nearby bottle, its contents still steaming. “From the River Phlegethon. It’ll help.”

Orpheus takes a sip. He winces. “It’s hot.”

Hermes nods. “But it will help. Get some rest.” Hermes gently lays him back against the booth.

...

The doors roll open and Persephone steps inside, half-carrying Eurydice. Almost immediately, the train begins to move, willed forwards by some unseen driver.

“Is he alright?” the young woman asks, her voice trembling. Persephone lowers her into a booth.

Hermes hands her a stack of blankets. “Fine. He needs rest.”

“What happens now?” she wonders.

“You won’t be separated from Orpheus,” Hermes says. “You will be spared from the worst of your punishment.”

“How can you be certain? Orpheus...” she lowers her voice. “You saw the chaos he caused.”

Hermes nods. “My agreement with Lord Hades stands.”

“And what was that agreement, exactly?” Persephone inquires. “The terms. Specifics. I know my husband.”

“Eurydice was to stop the winter,” he explains. “She succeeded, which spares them from the worst possibilities. The Furies were... not satisfied, but Hades’s deal was final. I ensured Orpheus’s safety, as well as Eurydice’s. Your husband will decide his terms, but there will be a reward for Eurydice’s success. And like I said, the worst is ruled out.”

Persephone half-smiles. “You always were a good liar, Hermes.”

He glances at Orpheus. Afraid, Eurydice thinks, for her lover or of him? “Persephone?” He almost sounds offended.

“Not a lie, I suppose, but certainly not the whole truth,” Persephone corrects herself. “My husband did not let you off so easily. What did you sacrifice? What did you sign away?”

“Nothing,” he snaps, anger flaring in his eyes.

“Hermes... After all these centuries, I’d have hoped you would have more trust in me.”

“Seph...”

“Give me the truth.” Her voice is firm.

“That’s the trade, I suppose,” he mutters. “Your trust.” She narrows her eyes, says nothing. “Stop him. By whatever means necessary. That was the deal.”

“If I failed...” Eurydice begins.

“You wouldn’t have gotten the chance,” Hermes tells her.

“The knife.” She reaches into her pocket and draws out the blade she had so desperately tried to rid herself of. It had returned. It had always returned to her pocket. She examines it now, up and down. Two metal snakes weave their way up the hilt. “Take it,” she growls.

He does. In his hands, the blade transforms into a staff, wrapped up with the very same serpents. “This was my only choice.”

“A 50/50 shot to kill Orpheus?”

“The alternative...”

“What the hell did you agree to?” Eurydice snarls.

He looks away. “The knife. You wouldn’t have been given a choice. You... still belong to Hades. He would have guided your hand and Orpheus...” his voice trails off.

She smiles, as if admiring his madness and she laughs, soon cut off by sobs. Hermes seems to consider giving her some gentle touch of comfort, but Persephone is at her side first, shooting him a sharp glare. “You...” Eurydice wipes her eyes. “You would’ve watched me murder him.”

“Would you have preferred the furies?” he asks, not rhetorically, Eurydice realizes. She remembers the screams of disloyal workers. Thieves who had stolen from the work lines. Shades who had dishonorably killed men in life.

“Yes.” Her answer is almost a gasp. Would she really prefer his pain over... What? Her guilt? She knows it is selfish, but to kill him would have been torturous. No amount of Lethe water could wash away ingrained horrors. And oh, how desperately she would have tried to forget.

The rest of the train ride is silent. Hermes sits as far from Eurydice as he can get, never taking his eyes off of Orpheus. Persephone speaks under her breath, as if preparing an argument. Eurydice stays at her lover’s side, half wishing he would wake.

She remembers what she had seen in the woods. The road to Hadestown. But the underworld hadn’t taken her. She had woken, Orpheus in her arms. He’d been so cold. So helpless. He hardly looks any better now. His wounds had been bandaged, but he would bear scars. The madness of his attackers would survive by him.

...

The train lurches to a halt. If Orpheus notices, he makes no motion to show it, still deeply asleep. Between Persephone and Eurydice, he’s easily carried. Orpheus had never been heavy. Always slender, light as a feather. His time in the woods hadn’t done him any favors.

Hades meets them at the station. “Persephone.”

“Husband.”

“Once again,” he remarks, “mortals prove themselves more capable than one might expect. Take the boy to my office.”

Persephone scoffs. “What now?”

“It is warm, Seph,” Hermes says.

She whirls, dropping Orpheus into Eurydice’s arms. She catches him with a grunt. “And who asked you?” Persephone snaps.

“He is my son. I haven’t forgotten my love-”

“Love?” she mocks. “You would have let him die. Not a word to me. Not a word to the girl who would’ve killed him.”

“He lives,” Hermes reminds her.

“For how long?” Eurydice asks under her breath, quiet enough that the others don’t hear her. Orpheus looks terrible. His hair is matted and his skin is still cold to the touch. She’s reminded, painfully, of her journey back to Hadestown after he had turned. She feels him slipping, just as she had. She speaks up now, louder this time. “Something’s wrong.”

Hermes checks Orpheus’s pulse and presses a hand against his forehead. “He’s too cold. Listen to Lord Hades. I know it seems... well...” He lowers his voice. “Eurydice, he’s your shot at a future. Both of you. Even if Orpheus doesn’t survive.”

She flinches at the proposition, but rises to her feet, aided by Hermes, who takes the burden of Orpheus’s weight. Persephone rolls her eyes, but Eurydice waves her away. “The office,” she agrees.

Hades guides them down the thin streets of Hadestown, beneath high rises, where thousands of souls reside, and finally to his own office building. The first twenty-five floors, Persephone had explained once, over a bottle of wine, make up his bedroom. And the other seventy-five are his office and personal library. Eurydice had assumed it was a joke. But now the building stretches up before her and she’s sure there must be more than a hundred floors.

Persephone pulls open the doors. “Welcome to the castle,” she says, sarcastically. Hades steps inside, letting his hand brush against his wife’s as he moves past her. Persephone guides them to a lounge room where Hermes lays Orpheus across the over-sized couch. Eurydice strikes a match and the fireplace instantly roars with flames.

Hades takes a seat in the stiffest chair in the room. Persephone drags her cushy armchair beside his nearly solid seat and sinks into it. “A deal,” Hades begins.

Persephone groans loudly. “You’d think the God of the Dead would have a little more empathy,” she emphasizes the word, “for the sick and dying.”

Hermes just about collapses into his seat, across the room from the others. An argument, he remembers. He needs to pose some argument. The room is spinning. He blinks, trying to force the spots out of his vision. He’d felt like this since his first venture into the woods. He’d considered mentioning it, but he’d never found the chance.

“And I don’t just mean Orpheus,” Persephone adds. “Hermes?” He glances up at her.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters.

“Go find yourself a blanket,” she tells him. He doesn’t move. If he stands, he’s pretty sure he’ll pass out.

“Can we just... get on with it?”

“You want a drink?” He shakes his head slightly. He hadn’t eaten or drunk much at all since Orpheus had disappeared. It made it easier, somehow, to know exactly how his son felt. It was starting to wear on him. Hunger, thirst, his lack of sleep... but a god should be able to bear it, and so he does.

“I will not waste time,” Hades continues. “It appears that our poet...” Hermes almost smiles. When had Hades begun to consider Orpheus anything more than ‘the boy’? A phrase he said as if the young man was a bag of dirt. The King of the Underworld continues: “May not have long to live.”

Eurydice squeezes her lover’s hand. Hermes hadn’t dared approach them once he’d set Orpheus down, but even from across the room, he sees how shallow Orpheus’s breaths have become.

“If he dies, he is mine. No amount of willing otherwise will change that fact, so we must come to an agreement before he does,” Hades says, matter-of-fact. “Eurydice,” he flicks the young woman a coin. “He may need it. Bodies fade far faster the nearer they are to the Styx. You won’t have time for a funeral rite.”

She nods numbly and slips the coin into Orpheus’s hand. “Now, our deal,” Hades goes on, “Your achievements are admirable, Eurydice. As are your lover’s. I will not keep you apart from him. Still, he cannot simply go free. Orpheus killed at least a few dozen mortals by his own hand and many more by the power of his storm.”

Hermes tries to say something, but he finds no sound comes out of his mouth. Persephone fills in. “Hades... he’s a boy in love.”

The King of the Dead nods. “I have no desire to punish him. To the dismay of The Furies, that is. However, I must keep an eye on him. This will ensure his safety, to some degree, for our relatives on Olympus may not find him here.”

“Their terms then?” Persephone says, bluntly.

Hades sighs. “Nothing harsh. He has suffered the loss of his lover twice over and he will contend with the horrors he saw for the rest of his days.” Eurydice strokes Orpheus’s tear-stained cheek.

Hades continues: “The underworld is overpopulated. I had not planned for so many new shades. I have no housing or work for them, so they will be sent to the surface to live out their lives as they deserve. Hermes, you will guide their souls to the overworld. Slowly. Do not disrupt the flow of Hadestown.”

Eurydice smiles, solemnly. Her lover will appreciate that, she knows.

“As for the both of you, Orpheus will remain underground for the time being, as will you, Eurydice. Do not think of this as cruelty,” he quickly adds. “You will be safe and provided for. Your stay will not be forever.”

“How long is ‘not forever?’“ Eurydice asks carefully.

“For now, let us say ten years. You signed a contract, Eurydice, so you are legally mine,” he reminds her. “Orpheus did not. One of you is bound to this realm, the other is not. Thus, once I deem Orpheus ready to leave or our ten years is up, you will together spend six months on the surface and six months underground. Half the year for your death, half the year for his life.”

“That’s all?” Persephone asks.

Hades groans. “Don’t sound so surprised, my love.”

“Do we have a deal?” he asks Eurydice.

"And if he dies?” she mumbles.

“The deal stands. He did not sign a contract, he is not bound to this realm.”

“Then I accept your terms,” Eurydice says. “And in the name of Orpheus, I accept your terms in his place.”

#when hell freezes over au #hadestown au #hadestown #therainbowwrites

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joyfulsongbird · 5 years

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Would you be willing to write a sequel sequel where Persephone finds out that Eurydice got bashed in the head during the bar fight after she comes back and is totally like “ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

ABSOLUTELY YOU CAN. also, this turned into a persephone and hermes bonding session near the end so im sorry if that wasn’t what you asked for or wanted.

***

The train arrived on time, for once, with the lady in green flouncing off of it with a spring in her step unlike any of a mortal being. For she wasn’t a mortal being, as any person with eyes could see, she was a goddess ascending from below to bless their lands. She blows a kiss to her brother, the man she can see in a silver suit not too far away, shining the sun. Sunlight sprinkles from her fingertips. The green of her dress leaves a trail of clovers and newly green grass behind her. As she walks, she spots the young couple, always together, those two. Joined at the hip, almost. Arm in arm, stuck in a neverending embrace, as if they let go for one second, they’ll be separated for good. Persephone can’t blame them.

She waves and smiles brighter, Orpheus catches her eye first, his own grin broadening to something even brighter, if that’s at all possible. Persephone parts to crowd to greet the two of them, throwing an arm around the boy first, giving his forearm a squeeze before turning to the girl. And then she forgets whatever good things had been going through her mind, and all that is left is anger and frustration and a lot of worry.

“What in hell happened to your face?” she reaches for Eurydice’s chin to examine the bruise that flowers along her jawline and cheekbone, faded slightly to show she’d gotten it a little ways back, but dark enough to let Persephone know that it had been a hard hit, or a hard fall, that had left such a dark purple and blue mark along her olive skin. The scratch there had healed over but Persephone could make out the scab where it used to be.

“who did this to you?!” she holds Eurydice’s chin for a moment before the girl jerked away.

“They- I- it was no one, I didn’t- I didn’t start it.” Eurydice stammers, her face dropping from the smile it had worn moments ago. She crosses her arms over her ribs protectively.

“Oh, I’m not interrogating you to ground or somethin’, hon.” she assures her. “I want to know who it was so I can kick their ass.”

Something like relief washes over Eurydice’s features, the tension Persephone hadn’t noticed until that moment nearly completely dissipates as she lets a laugh fall from her lips. Orpheus leans over to bump her shoulder with his, probably as some sort of gesture of “I told you so”.

“there was just a fight at that went a little too far.” Eurydice explains concisely. “I fell, hit my head on the way down and your brother over there kept me in bed for two weeks straight. And I can’t have much fun over this summer cause otherwise I’ll ‘damage my head’.”

“you should listen to Hermes, girl, he’s a smart man.” Eurydice nods, taking the comment as completely serious, which was true. “speaking of which, I’ve gotta go to talk to him.”

she wanders over to the man in the silver suit, leaving greenness and spring in her wake while somehow having this solemn, angry look on her face that did not match the birds singing about in the trees around her and the joy of the town now celebrating the arrival of spring.

“good morning, sister.”

“is he still around?”

“who?”

“the deadbeat who gave Eurydice those bruises, is he still hanging around?”

“you’re assuming it’s a he, Seph.” he said with a click of his tongue.

“I’ve met the men in this town, Hermes. And Eurydice could take anybody but a man at least three times her size, I know that much.” she rambles. “you didn’t answer my question, is he still around these parts?”

“if I say yes, will you hunt him down and give him twice as many bruises as Eurydice?”

“Hermes.”

“Fine, fine,” he waves his hand nonchalantly, in that way that only Hermes could. “He’s stopped by once after the whole fight went down: he didn’t even get through the front door. Our favorite young couple is so beloved in this town that not even the bar patrons would let him in. Luckily, Eurydice was at home at the time and Orpheus was manning the bar so neither of them had to relive that ordeal.”

“good… so you think he won’t come back?” she says, her anger was beginning to wane but still that buzz of impulsivity that took away more of her control than wine. Anger could drive her towards most anything, especially when that anger was directed towards protecting her family. And Eurydice was her family at this point. Persephone would do anything to protect her.

“not much for him to find here if he can’t have booze. we didn’t even know him too well, not even sure of his name and I know names pretty well, so there’s that to be said for how well known he was in the community.”

“if he comes back once this entire summer, you’ve got to point him out cause when he goes back to wherever he came from after dealing with me he’s gonna be missing a-”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t come anywhere near our resident bar bouncer.”

Persephone runs a hand through her hair, letting out a frustrated huff. “how could you let someone hurt her like that, Hermes? look at her, she’s so tiny! pitting her against gargantuan, drunk maniacs isn’t the best idea!”

“you know as well I do that she can hold her own against 99% percent of us. It was just that 1% that got ahold of her that night and we all paid the price for letting her go up against him alone. Next time we’ve got reinforcements.”

“yeah?”

“Orpheus is never letting her break up a fight on her own again, that’s for sure.” he laughs. “you know him, always so worried about her even though she’s the strongest person he’s ever known.”

“I know,” Persephone smiles, peering over the crowd to look for the couple amongst the growing group of people. “They seem even closer this summer compared to the last time I saw them, more in sync with each other.”

Hermes smiles, one of the few genuine ones he actually lets out these days. “don’t tell them that I told you this but… they got secretly engaged during the winter. they only told me, since they don’t have the means for rings and a ceremony and everything, but they don’t need much. They’ll tell you on their own time but I wanted to see your face.”

And her face is priceless, jaw dropping to the ground, her eyes brightening to something even shinier than the sun. “gods, I always miss so much when I’m down there.”

Hermes nods. “your husband doing well?”

“much better than before.” Persephone nods. “thanks to your godson, of course.”

“all of this is thanks to Orpheus.” Hermes says, gesturing to sunshine and warm temperatures around them. Springtime.

“it sure is. He’s a special one.”

“he sure is.”

#hadestown fic #hadestown #orphydice #orpheus x eurydice #hermes and persephone #the bromance we deserve #hermes x persephone

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asreoninfusion · 7 years

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Clack Week Day 2: Wing

My contrbution to day two of Clack week. Of course I went with wing, because I’m not about to pass up an opportunity for wing kink. xp

This one is still, uhh, mostly SFW but with suggestive momements, I guess (no parts are touched except for the wing, but the mention of boners comes up lol). It’s mainly fluff and cuteness again. I’m going to give myself cavities at this rate with how sweet the boys are being all the time.

Zack ran his hand through Cloud’s hair as Cloud stirred. There were dim cracks of light just starting to seep in past the curtains – morning, then, but still early.

“Hey,” Zack said. “Feeling better?”

Cloud groaned quietly and buried his face into Zack’s chest. “I have a killer crick in my neck. I thought we swore off falling asleep on sofas.”

Zack chuckled. Cloud had recovered enough to regain his sarcastic sense of humour – that was a good sign. He wouldn’t even complain that Cloud had been the one using him as a pillow the whole time, and Zack’s arm felt like it would be numb for days.

Cloud gave a shuddering sigh, and his newly mutated wing twitched and stretched against the coffee table. Cloud froze.

“It’s okay,” Zack reminded him. “It’s just the same as Sephiroth and Genesis and Angeal have, remember?”

“Right,” Cloud agreed blandly.

“It’s a good thing. Probably means you have the potential to be just as powerful at them! Not everyone gets wings, after all. You’ll be promoted to First for sure.”

“I know.”

Zack cupped Cloud’s face, guiding his gaze up until their eyes met. “It doesn’t make you a monster. Never has and never will.”

Cloud flushed and looked away. After a good night’s sleep and plenty of cuddles, his meltdown the previous night seemed… a bit of an overreaction. Zack was right. The three elite Firsts all had wings, he had known it was a possibility. It had just been unexpected, to come back from the labs with an entire extra limb.

Zack peered over at the wing. It was a touch worse for wear – Cloud had thrashed quite a bit, maybe clawed at it a little in his panic.

“You feel okay, right?”

Cloud made a non-committal noise, neither confirming nor denying. “It’s… weird. I can feel it. It’s a little tender, I guess; the wing, and my shoulder too. But yeah, I’m okay.”

“Can you move it?” Zack sounded more curious than anything, now.

Cloud stretched his wing out; lifted it a little. He watched it move with fascination. “Guess so.”

“That’s a start!” Although he was trying to sound encouraging, Zack couldn’t quite stifle the yawn that made its way out. He shifted beneath Cloud’s weight. There really was a reason they’d said no more sleeping together on couches. “Well, how about we move somewhere more comfortable for a while? Then when it gets to a sensible time for existence, I’ll call Seph and see what he can tell us about wing care and shit, yeah?”

“No!” Cloud immediately flushed at his sudden outburst. “I mean—I don’t know if I want anyone else to know about this just yet.”

“Cloud… it’s okay. Seph ain’t gonna judge, Mr. One Winged Angel and all.”

Cloud made a face. “Exactly. His wing is so… majestic. This thing looks pathetic in comparison.”

“Aww, that’s not true!”

“It’s all small and runty.”

“No way. It might be smaller than Seph’s, but honestly, Seph is overcompensation city anyway. You don’t want one that size. You might think it looks all majestic and shit, but trust me, I have seen him constantly knocking stuff over with that wing.”

At least that got a wry grin out of Cloud. Zack beamed and loosely wrapped his arms around Cloud’s bare waist (the wing would make shirts difficult until Cloud would get extras properly tailored) before continuing.

“And if your wing looks a little dishevelled now, it’s just ‘cause you’ve been through a lot. It’ll look great with a bit of preening and TLC.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start with looking after something like this,” Cloud sighed.

“No problem. We can ask the others, or if you’re not up for that just yet, we can muddle through ourselves. Want me to give it a shot?”

“Now?”

“Sure, if it’ll make you feel better about the whole thing. And the guys have said it feels pretty nice as well, so win win, right?”

Cloud hesitated. He hadn’t wanted anyone touching the wing at all before, but… he’d calmed down a lot now, and this was Zack.

It only took him a moment to decide. “Okay. That sounds good.”

“Alright. Let’s move to the bedroom so you have room to stretch out.”

They both reluctantly got up, stretching out the various kinks and cramped muscles that had resulted from a night spent piled together on a couch that was distinctly too small for two adult men. As soon as Cloud got into the bedroom, he flopped stomach-first onto the bed with a sigh.

Zack fought back a smile. Cloud was cute when he was sleepy. Cute all the time, really, but especially when sleepy. His new wing stretched out over the covers – Cloud took up nearly the whole bed like that.

Zack crawled onto the bed to join him. Cloud’s wing was right in front of him… even if a few feathers were out of place, and it was a little dulled by the dried remains of mako and gods knew what other questionable liquids from the labs, the wing was still incredibly pretty. Mostly white, but with a faint silver shine to the feathers. He got the feeling they would absolutely glisten in sunlight.

He was staring; he’d always been fascinated by the wings some of the other SOLIDERs sported. He shook himself out of it.

“First things first, how about a damp washcloth to wipe that wing of yours down? It’s kinda… sticky.”

Cloud made a vaguely affirmative noise, face muffled into a pillow. Zack went to fetch the required implements. When he returned with washcloth in hand, Cloud was already half dozing.

Zack grinned to himself and got to work. He kept his touch light at first, not sure how sensitive Cloud would be. Cloud only sighed at the contact.

Wiping away the mako and gunk was the least fun part, so Zack work steadily through it. He only interrupted to get Cloud to roll onto his side and spread the wing behind him so Zack could access the underside.

“Done,” Zack announced.

Cloud’s wing gave a little shiver, as if trying to get rid of the excess water (okay, maybe Zack had got a little sloppy towards the end), and then fluffed out. Zack was delighted.

“Oh man, it looks so soft!” he said, eyes gleaming with adoration. The wing had the same kind of downy softness as Cloud’s hair, and Zack had to fight back a deeply ingrained instinct to ruffle. Ruffling would not go down well. Preening, on the other hand… “Can I touch?”

“Hnn.” It seemed to be permission.

Cloud rolled back onto his front, and Zack leaned over to gently card his fingers through Cloud’s feathers. Ohh. They really were soft.

Cloud gave another sigh, more pronounced this time, and shuddered a little at the touch. But it didn’t seem to be in a bad way. In fact, as Zack continued to work his way along Cloud’s wings, righting all the feathers and stroking them into place, Cloud seemed to melt into the mattress.

Zack’s heart swelled. Just being so close to Cloud, the casual intimacy… the fact that Cloud was already comfortable enough to let him do this, even though he’d been distraught about the wing just last night.

“Cloud… I really love you.”

Cloud cracked a sleepy eye open. “Huh? What brought that on?”

“I don’t know. Just being close to you.”

“…you’re being sappy again, aren’t you?”

Zack leaned down and blew a raspberry on the small of Cloud’s back in retribution for his sass. Cloud squirmed and gave a small yelp.

Grinning, Zack turned the raspberry into an actual kiss, working his way up Cloud’s spine. He kept preening the wing as he did so; he was learning where Cloud liked a little bit more pressure, and so far he’d found one or two spots that made Cloud moan softly when he pressed firmly against them.

“Aahh,” Cloud breathed, a noise that sounded like pleasure.

“See, that’s nice, right?” Zack said. Though he hardly needed to ask. “Like a massage.”

“Mm,” Cloud hummed in agreement.

Zack kisses turned a bit firmer when he got to the back of Cloud’s neck; he might have nibbled a little. All the while still working his fingers through those soft feathers.

“Hah… Zack.”

Zack gave him one more kiss. “Roll over onto your side again, I’ll preen the underside of the wing for you.”

Cloud didn’t respond immediately. He seemed like he was blushing a little. But then, slowly, he rolled over. The wing curled up, then flared out behind him, exposing the other side.

Zack trailed his fingertips lightly against the join where wing met flesh. He pouted, and Cloud didn’t fail to notice.

“What’s wrong?” Cloud sounded concerned.

“This is gonna make it hard for me to be the big spoon anymore,” Zack said.

Cloud snorted, his worry immediately fading. “Don’t worry, I’ll spoon you instead.”

“Shush, you. I like to have a variety of choices for spooning positions.”

“Whatever,” Cloud said, but he was smiling as he closed his eyes and went back to dozing.

Or trying to doze. It was easier to see Cloud’s face in this position, and Zack watched his boyfriend’s expression while he started carding his fingers through the feathers again. This side seemed to be a little more sensitive – Cloud twitched every so often, eyebrows knitting together and lips parting in a soft ‘oh’.

Zack might have been concerned he was hurting Cloud, but he knew that face. And it was not a face of pain.

He found a good spot to dig his fingertips against, and Cloud moaned. Zack might have bought it just being a platonic, massage type of pleasure, if he hadn’t seen the way Cloud’s hips rolled as well. There was the little bite of his lip, and that expression that Zack most commonly saw when dicks were being touched.

“So. ‘Feels good’, huh?” Zack said cheekily.

Cloud cracked an eye open again to glare half-heartedly. He glanced away, a little embarrassed but sincere. “I like it when you touch me. Wherever it is.”

“Mmhm. And the wing?”

“It’s… new. Sensitive. I don’t know. Feels nice when you preen it.”

Armed with that knowledge, Zack was hardly about to stop preening. In fact, he only redoubled his efforts.

“How sensitive?” he asked, fingers stroking firmly through Cloud’s feathers.

“Nn…”

“How hard are you right now?”

“Zack!” Cloud protested, flushing a little. “…I don’t know. Half hard, maybe. It’s not like a sex thing – it’s not, don’t look at me like that – it just feels good, and it’s you, so…”

“Do you think you could cum from it?”

“I don’t—you’re not—damnit, Zack.”

Zack kissed Cloud on the nose, grinning. It was adorable when Cloud got flustered.

“No. I don’t think I can, it’s not that intense.” Cloud paused. “It might be fun… just to spice things up a little. When we were doing other things.”

“Oh?” Zack kissed Cloud on the lips this time. He kept one hand buried in the feathers, and the other he trailed lightly down Cloud’s stomach and to his hip.

Cloud kissed Zack a few more times, but they were gentle, unhurried kisses. He took Zack’s wandering hand and pulled it away. “It’s like five a.m. You can play later.”

“Aw, Cloud.”

Cloud shot him a wry smile. “The lab said I get the day off today, what with the whole wing thing. You can probably wrangle the time off to look after me too. That means we can lie in.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Cloudy.” Lie ins were a coveted luxury in the military lifestyle.

“And if I wake up with a morning wood… you can help take care of it.”

“Done,” Zack agreed. For the time being, he simply curled up against Cloud, holding him in a loose embrace.

Cloud rested his forehead against Zack’s and sighed, melting against him. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what? The preening? ‘Cause I am more than happy to do that. Any time you want.”

Cloud huffed a laugh, then his expression turned more serious. “No. For… being here. It’s going to take a bit of getting used to, but you’ve made this whole thing a lot more bearable.”

Zack smiled, though his eyes remained serious with sincerity. “Aww, of course. I love you, Cloud.”

That wrangled a smile out of Cloud too. “You’re a dork. But I love you too.” He paused to think for a moment. “Want to see if the wing works as a blanket?”

“I would love that,” Zack said emphatically.

Cloud grinned and lightly elbowed Zack, but he lifted the wing and settled it over the top of them both anyway. It wasn’t big enough to act as a proper blanket, but Zack seem thrilled regardless.

“Ahh, it’s so soft and warm…”

“Dork,” Cloud repeated.

They kissed again, and neither of them could even tell who initiated it that time. Gradually they both dozed off, and this time Cloud slept far more restfully than his previous troubled night. He was wrapped in Zack’s arms, warm and safe in his bed, and, wing or no wing, Cloud feel asleep with a small smile on his face.

#my writings #cloud strife #zack fair #clack #clack week 2017 #wing fic

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