#strifra

TREAD SOFTLY - TheGoldenAppleofAsgard

Chapter 12 is up!

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Fandom: Final Fantasy 7: Remake

Pairing: Rufus Shinra x Cloud Strife

Rating: Explicit (Please note all of the tags)

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“Look at me.”

Cloud did as commanded on the authority in his voice alone, which was surprising, and Rufus gentled his grip around the sharp cut of his Little Bird’s jawline, musing at the newfound pliancy. 

Cloud had been both strong and capable before Reno had brought him down, able to fight confidently, make decisions and follow them through, even if they were to his own detriment. There was a lot of strength in his character when they had first met that seemed to be mostly absent. Perhaps the shadow of it was there, but the entirety of it had not yet been rediscovered, though it seemed it would only be a matter of time. 

Even after everything, loss of memory included, Cloud had been snarky to the point Rufus would have sorely liked to tumble him protesting over his knee until he showed some respect.

Perhaps, if that mouthy little creature returned, there would be time for that later.

Perhaps he would provoke it on purpose, just for the pleasure of educating his Little Bird on how to keep his petulance in check.

(Rufus & Cloud Advent Children era based on this past rambling post)

Chapter 22: Dalliance Word Count: 94,931 (total) Fandom: Final Fantasy 7 (post Advent Children) Pairing: Cloud Strife/Rufus Shinra Rating: Explicit

“Shit!!”

“What?” Reno asks dumbly just as Cloud’s legs finally regain some mobility.

He stumbles forward, falling to his knees to crawl into the gap under the desk where the basket should be. It’s a completely superfluous act, but his brain feels like sizzled meat and he can’t seem to get enough oxygen into his lungs.

“It’s–”

He clambers around, presses a cheek to the floor just so he can double check under the bed. Nothing there but the sword Rufus gave him what seems like eons ago.

“Fuck!”

“Oh, this doesn’t sound good,” Elena blurts out from somewhere up above.

Cloud stands, searching furiously in every corner, every nook, every cranny. He throws his little closet door open, knowing it won’t be there but looking anyway.

“It’s gone, holy shit, it’s gone,” he finally utters aloud as he tries to keep himself from fainting.

“What do you mean, gone?” Reno barks at him, but Cloud already has his phone in hand as he sails out the door and down the hallway, leaving the two Turks befuddled in his bedroom.

As he tosses his old office and even peeks into the other bedrooms, Reno and Elena catch up to him, their candor less desperate but increasingly uneasy. The basket wouldn’t have been moved–the kids don’t bother with his space and he’s been keeping the door locked lately anyway in case Tifa passes through to clean up or poke around for something if she takes a call on his behalf while he’s out. Even so, the minute hope that it was simply misplaced has him frantically scouring until, with a heavy feeling in his chest, he has to meet the two Turks back out in the hallway where they wait with arms crossed. It’s clear they’ve already recognized the gravity of the situation despite allowing him his spiral from denial to acceptance.

“It’s gone…” Cloud remarks a final time, his gaze distant and cast down at the floor between them.

“Yeah, you said that already,” Reno quips unhelpfully. Cloud is too anxious to care.

Without answering, he pushes past the both of them and rushes downstairs, completely oblivious to Lucy’s concerned reaction from behind the bar as he visually combs every inch of the bar and dining area. Suspicion has his senses sharpened, his blood pumping fast and hard. Suddenly, he’s out on the front stoop, scanning the intersections and alleyways, the neighboring buildings, the few people walking the street. He turns back to face the front of 7th Heaven, half expecting to see a shadowy figure perched on the roof or disappearing behind the back. It’s not until Reno and Elena appear in the doorway that he’s able to take a deep breath and pull himself together.

Cloud is the perfect picture of silence as he watches Rufus from across the room, polishing the dual barrel of his beloved sidearm with near surgical precision. Flames from the fireplace situated between them lick outward, as if equally drawn to the sight. Rufus has an almost eerie grin curling his lips ever so slightly as he buffs, lifts the weapon to his eye-line, lets the light reflect off of it just so until he finds another imperfection to rub into oblivion. It’s clear to Cloud that this work satisfies him.

“I never let anyone touch it, you know,” Rufus says suddenly, pride brimming from him precariously, like an overfull cup threatening to spill if someone takes too deep a breath near it.

Cloud stirs from where he sits on the plush carpet, but only barely. Rufus rises soundlessly from his perch on the leather seat opposite to carefully replace the gun to its perfectly balanced mount on the mantle. The fire seems to recede then, as if it was waiting all the while for its companion.

Rufus turns to Cloud, the shadows flickering across his smile, demented. Cloud shifts in place to meet his eyes, his heavy chains softly clattering.

(For reasons I can't explain my brain decided *mountaineering, bc Cloud would make a great mountain guide and could join him* and that was that.) But I was wondering what you think.

Nothing team related. No team sports, he would pick something that requires him to rely solely on himself, and I think that has more to do with ego and vanity than a desire to challenge oneself. Maybe a one-on-one sport. Like tennis. But I could see a young Rufus fencing or doing kendo. Something like that.

Oh my god, skiing. Can’t you just picture it? The most expensive gear in mostly white against the snowy mountainous backdrop? Can’t WAIT to see his après ski fits! We already know Cloud would make a good winter sports comrade…

I can see him having bouts of being an avid reader, but only in solitude. Like in bed when suffering insomnia. It’s not a ‘hobby,’ per se, he almost treats it like a guilty pleasure. A dirty secret.