#fourthclone

“romantically, yes.” 🤔

​

"... it's been some time, yeah."

Glenn is calm, he tries to move slow and not too much. he doesn't want to put Roche any more on edge. He knows how hard this must be for the younger SOLDIER. There were rifts within Shinra. After Genesis has deserted, the cracks were more visible than ever. Glenn had been gone since quite some time before that. And while his desertion hadn't been as public as Genesis' - he now was the figurehead of a Resistance against Shinra.

People could claim he lured more of the young SOLDIERs. And it was true... but he didn't want anything bad for them. he wanted to help.

Offering a hand as if it was a symbol to an escape, Glenn gave the other half a smile.

"Roche... you did your best. But Shinra will never be satisfied. They will suck you dry - and they will spit you out again. I saw it happening time and again - and you did, too. You deserve better than that. And I can use good people like you on my side."

Of course he would never forget them, but the feelings he had for the other were so deep in his heart, and it hurt to see him being like this. This was more unhinged than he was used to, and he had gotten pretty used to the other's antics and mannerisms, thus far. Secretly enjoyed them, to a point, even. Yet, he knew something was wrong, and when he felt a buzzing in the back of his skull at those words, he winced and held his head for a few seconds. A couple of hard blinks, mind wanting to go numb and fizzle on him, but that's when he saw Roche coming at him quicker than lightning.

His heart sped up faster, and he had only a second to react, lifting his blade up to clash with the other's. Sparks flew and metal screeched, much like the tires of this one's bike would, and he grit his teeth together. The energy he needed to fight was there, but he was holding himself back, wanting to assess if this was the right call to take. There was a wildness to the other he'd never seen before, and it had his adrenaline spiking with a similar unhinged need to be just the same as him.

"Snap out of it!" The realization from his headache earlier, knowing that spine-tingling feeling that seemed to never leave him; Roche was also being affected in some way by that monster. "He can't have you!"

@fourthclone asked: you know what? Roche IS gonna cup Cloud’s cheeks and lean in for a smooch. SHAMELESS. Unprompted Asks - ALWAYS ACCEPTING

Shameless, probably. Utterly brazen was certainly more apt, and the unadulterated shock etched into his features would no doubt display just how much he'd expected this profoundly weird greeting. Or not.

Cloud was not one for the touching and groping in any sense; he was a man who quite enjoyed the sanctuary of his personal space, even in the company of those he knew well. But this man - all pomp and bravado, a theatrical nuisance and at the most inopportune times - he'd woken something up inside of him; something fast and very fluffy, a scampering fiend which scurried around his lower belly with every chance encounter since the day they'd crossed blades in the warehouse back in Midgar.

An enigma dressed in fatigues who proved just as curious as he did wholly irritating to the senses, he would be lying to himself if Cloud was to say he wasn't at least a touch intimidated by Roche's energy. And yet the curiosity would outweigh any derogatory opinion Cloud would voice in his frail attempts to keep the biker at arm's length.

Thoughts of Roche were far more frequent than Strife truly wanted to admit. Thoughts which ran away with him in the darkest hours leaving him clambering and hollow upon the dawn. Deep, nasty secrets sketched into the tapestry of his memory and revisited when the mood would strike and the skin burned hot.

Therefore when those hands - warm, attentive - would encapsulate his face, those plush lips meeting with his own, it was all Cloud could do to remember to even breathe around his heart now lodged in his throat. Blindsided to the nth degree, fighting back hadn't occurred to even be an option, not when this one simple kiss would bring all those dark ponderings, the ifs, the buts, that wanton white-hot ache floating to the surface - silt disturbed by this unorthodox contact and rising to the surface of an otherwise stagnant lake.

Not an ounce of his being struggled to resist, a futile notion beneath the sheer gravity of this man pulling him close, feeding into that seething desire the blond would vehemently deny he had.

Until now.

So he leans into it, a subtle lilt of his head, mouth pursed against the others, eyes fluttering shut and a heavy nasal exhale carrying with it the faintest coquettish groan reverberating from the bowels of his chest. Gloved fingers would twist violently into the cloth of Roche's jacket just below the collar, wrenching their bodies flush, daring even to deepen that kiss, testing the barriers of Roche's mouth with an intrepid lap of his tongue. Just so eager for a taste, to ease the problematic and baffling flutter of moths in his belly.

“Man,” Zack said slowly, letting out the word in a breath like a sigh as he leaned in closer to the mirror to inspect his face. He rubbed a hand over his cheek, and then pushed his bangs back behind his ear. “I dunno. I'm beginning to think I'm not cut out for this either.”

He turned his head, changing the angle of his jaw. The stubble there was practically nonexistent. Bad.

“We might just not be beard guys, Roche,” he finally said, leaning away from the mirror.

kiss & tell

Sephiroth - SOLDIER 1st Class: Killed in action Zack Fair - SOLDIER 1st Class: Killed in action

He'd been missing for a week after the announcement, only to come back one day as easy as he'd left. His absence was caused by an immediate leave being enforced, his breakdown in the training room not without repercussion.

He was given a choice: collect himself, or be placed under continued watch.

And so he played the part, went on with his work, swallowed down the bitterness of anguish that coated his every word, hid glazed over eyes behind his helmet, going through the motions as he tried to reconcile with the facts he was being presented.

But he crumbled when faced with Roche. Where were you? What happened?

… They move to the stairwell, where few people linger, steps deterring anyone from trying to use them outside of a proper emergency. It was the closest thing to privacy they would be able to muster inside of the Shinra building, able to speak their mind even if only in hushed tones, but…

What could either of them say? What words could they share?

Kunsel holds his helmet under his arm, his expression a transparent show of his frazzled state of mind - he was tired, even after his leave, thoughts endlessly ruminating in his mind, still reeling, still clinging to denial. It was irrational to blame himself, but he couldn't not do it, not when he'd been there for Zack from the start, helping and guiding, always hyping him up, entertaining his dreams of being a hero.

It feels like a betrayal now, like he helped cause this, like there was something —

He's dragged into a hug before his thoughts have a chance to spiral further, helmet clattering to the floor as he stands there awkwardly, allowing Roche the means to express his own grief, his worry, and Kunsel can't help but wane in his hold, wilting into the hug. It was a tight grip, hesitant to let go, and Kunsel can feel the weight of his emotion in the hasty kiss pressed against the crown of his head, cheek then pressed against his hair, Roche's head resting on top of his.

Why did he act like he was alone? Like he was the only one that lost people? … What kind of friend is he?

And Kunsel can't help the way his hand reaches around Roche, clinging to the back of the other's uniform, tugging idly against it as he reciprocates the hug after lagging in his reaction, face pressed against a chest that lingered with the scent of fresh cigarettes, bringing to memory times spent under the illusion that they were carefree, kids making a mess of their lives just because they could, made to think they were immortal.

They weren't.

… He didn't mean to act distant, to hide away. Kunsel knows he's doing it, but he just doesn't know how else to handle this, how to deal with the tear in his heart without burying it, giving no thought on if anything would ever take root in his chest again. He manages not to cry only because he'd shed his tears already, but his expression remains pained, staring off to the side as he tries to get whatever comfort he can get out of such fleeting touch, earnest humanity having no place at a job like theirs.

⸻ continued / @fourthclone

"oh, i'm not, shit happens and whatever." his attention was more focused on the report he got back from the lab for roche's latest blood work and he was sure that they were fudging the numbers. on paper, it looks normal, everything was as it should be but corvus was sure that it shouldn't be that way.

he's well aware on what the entire process of becoming a SOLDIER does to people and the higher ups say that the participants know everything as well, but still, it bugs him. corvus glances over at roche and he notes the look, apparently this SOLDIER is quite smitten with whomever they encountered.

"sounds like quite the guy." while a part of his brain dissects the bit of information from the report, the brunette takes roche's blood pressure and lets out a small 'hm'. "how are you feeling generally? you notice anything in particular lately? tired more often? headaches?"

He sighed.