Chapter Text
Cloud was a nobody. A lost puppy in the slums of a city that wasn’t his. Wanted by no one in the world. Or at least, that’s what rattled around in his brain in the lone hours of the night, a mantra that nothing could quite overpower. It hadn’t always been like this, but getting kicked out of SOLDIER, his one fucking dream in the whole world, had been the straw that broke the chocobo’s back. Now any and all self-loathing that had built in him over the years came gnawing at his insides the second he was alone.
Which was a lot. Sure, he had Tifa when their shifts coincided or she dragged him out for fresh air. Biggs and Wedge, too, though he had managed to find excuses any time they came knocking or tried to befriend him in any meaningful way. Part of him wanted to give in, to soften up and allow himself to connect. But the other part, the louder part, knew he wasn’t good for anyone. Being his friend only led to disappointment and eventually, getting left behind. He didn’t want to be left behind anymore. He wanted… to be someone that people sought out, that they needed. That they couldn’t let go of.
Maybe it was a toxic wish. When he left home all those years ago, no one tried to stop him. He doubted they even noticed. The same with SOLDIER, he was just a faceless goon that trailed hopelessly behind actual heroes, hoping one day they would see him. Not as an extra gun, but really see him. Take an interest, want to be his… friend.
He sat up in bed, the blonde spikes of his hair bouncing as he tried to shake the thoughts out of his head. That was over 2 years ago, why did he still care? Why did knots twist in his stomach and send him doubling over? Fire seemed to rise in his insides, like he could puke up all the painful thoughts and be done with it.
If that was a possibility, his fingers would already be down his throat.
Why was he even still in Midgar? The city was supposed to be his ticket to a better life, to being a hero. Someone people could rely on, someone his mother and Tifa could rely on. She was why he joined after all, to be someone who could make her smile and keep her safe. It was almost laughable how incapable he had been ever since at keeping anyone safe. But still, she was why he stayed. Even though his dreams had amounted to nothing, the least he could do was be here for her. It’s not like there was really a home to run back to, anyway.
A bead of sweat slid down his nose and plopped onto his lap. Was it hot in here? He lifted a hand to his forehead. Before he even made contact with the skin, he was struck with the sheer warmth emanating from him. But he wasn’t sick. His own misery hadn’t manifested in some sort of fever. Right? Right. That wasn’t possible. Stress, sure– to other people sure, but Cloud didn’t get sick. His palm rested above his brows, which instantly creased in disbelief. He was drenched, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead.
Fuck, maybe he was sick. He kicked off the blankets, crossing the room and throwing open the single window of the apartment. He leaned out as far as he could safely, the chill air rushing over his skin, under the oversized shirt he wore to sleep, and doing something to quench the fever. His mouth hung open, tongue lolled out like a dog sticking its head out the car window. He didn’t care, Sector 7 was perfectly silent at this hour. Everyone tucked into their homes or off losing their money at Wall Market, either way he was safe from prying eyes. And from getting anyone else sick. He’d have to call Tifa in the morning and get her to cover his shift. It was a pain, but significantly better than getting her and Marlene sick. That he would never hear the end of.
The night air had initially brought comfort, but now it just left him feeling clammy. His underarms, scalp, and thighs where sweat had pooled now were unbearably cold, his whole form violently shivering in response. He ducked back into the room, pulling the window so only an inch or so remained open. The pain in his abdomen had shifted lower, no longer threatening to upheave his dinner but now leaving a discomfort much closer to his ass. Maybe there was something wrong with his kidneys? That would be so much more inconvenient than a simple flu.
He cursed under his breath, making his way to the bathroom. Hands grasped the edge of the sink, blue eyes scanning over his face in the mirror. Luckily he didn’t look any more pale than usual, and there were no other visible signs of illness. Though under the blazing white lights he could spot every trail of sweat down his face and neck, making his lips press into a hard line. He shifted his weight between his legs, the discomfort in his ass was impossible to ignore but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.
He splashed some water on his face, cupping some extra from the faucet and splashing it against the back of his neck as he stretched out over the sink, head bowed like in reverence. Or like he was going to puke. But the knot was much deeper now. The bathroom was tiny, being bent over the sink with the door closed, he could easily maintain his grip on the sink and press his backside into the door.
It was an absentminded motion, his focus solely on the sound of water trickling from the faucet as his ass began to grind against the door handle. It barely took any adjusting to have it slide between his ass cheeks. His hips rolled, grinding the knob up and down against his hole. Granted, there were two layers keeping him from getting any true satisfaction but it was something. His eyes shut, indulging in the pressure against his ass. The discomfort shifted to pure need, his hole throbbing and feeling so empty. It was like he could feel every inch of his insides and just how barren they were. How neglected. How much they needed to be touched and fucked and filled. His head leaned forward, the water fully running over his hair now. He didn’t care. His hips teased and grinded against the knob, even though his pants kept him from spreading fully, he still found himself whimpering from the barest of stimulation.
How long had it been since he allowed himself to indulge, even a little? He didn’t know. Months probably. Enough that he had mistaken the slick between his ass cheeks as sweat. Now it was impossible to deny, his boxers drenched and bunched up between his cheeks as he attempted to bounce against the handle. It didn’t offer anything really, but his imagination was spinning. Not a doorknob in his tiny bathroom, but the cock of an alpha who wanted nothing more than to push inside him. To stretch him wide and fuck him so fervently that the sink would bend under the weight of them. That he’d have to call in from work not because of a cold, but because the alpha knotted so deeply inside him that well into the morning they were still inseparable.
Cloud had to be honest. It wasn’t any alpha he craved, and even now, whimpering and grinding against his door there was only one person he could think of. Thick, muscular arms gripping his thighs and forcing him to spread wide beneath him. Cloud swallowed, what it would be like to look up and see that thick mane of black hair bouncing as Zack’s cock slipped into him. The SOLDIER would hold him close, hands traveling across his sides and front, enjoying every part of him that belonged just to him. Existed just for him. Feeling the muscles of his shoulders, his arms, before moving to his chest and squeezing at his tits. The idea had Cloud’s cheeks burning red, but he wouldn’t dare pull himself from this dream.
“Fuck” he whined. He continued to watch the way Zack worshiped his body, fingers flicking and tugging at his nipples. His hands felt so good, calloused but gentle in their every movement. Like he wanted Cloud to savor every second they were together. It was perfect. Watching him through the mirror he could indulge entirely, see how loved and desired he was, while the other man could enjoy the wettest hole he’d probably ever felt. Normally it was embarrassing how drenched his ass could get, but Zack seemed to relish in it. Even while pounding away in his ass, he found time to reach down and grab slick that had dripped between Cloud’s thighs, popping it into his own mouth with a satisfied grunt.
It was… everything. Cloud’s hand disappeared within his pants, at first pawing at his erection through his boxers. But soon that wasn’t enough, his hands moving quickly and clumsily to undo his belt, pulling his cock free and latching onto it. His needy slit had been leaking the whole time, a couple strokes coating his whole shaft. His palm moved steadily up and down his length, his own slick making him almost too slippery, but he was moving quickly enough that it didn’t matter. When he slowed, he squeezed and kneaded into his head, whimpering into the sink in between hefty breaths. His heart thudded in his ears, his whole body throbbing as he drew closer to release. It wouldn’t be enough, his ass still aching to feel the real thing. But his fantasy had been enough to distract from it, willing himself to imagine just what Zack would sound like grunting into his ear.
The closer he got, the more shallow his breathing. Warmth grew in his abdomen, hips moving to thrust into his hand. His thighs tensed, his every breath audible and perfectly in time with the other man who now pressed flush against his back. One hand draped in front of him, gripping his inner thigh as he found a steady, aggressive rhythm to thrust into him. Cloud wished he could imagine more, know what it was like to have someone balls deep inside, forcing themselves where only an alpha could. But for now this had to do.
His breath caught, every muscle in his body tensing as thick ropes of cum spurt out of him. Wave after wave of release found its way to the tile below, a shiver of delight rolling over his hot skin. His body slumped forward into the chilly porcelain, and for a long moment he was satiated. It wouldn’t last, his ass still painfully un-knotted. Pre-knotted? Empty , that’s all that really mattered.
He slowly rose from his hunched over position, turning off the faucet and grabbing a towel to dry off his hair. The orgasm’s shelf life had only been a couple minutes. Heat raged once again in his core, but there was something even more unmistakable accompanying it now– guilt. Yet again he was using his memory of Zack to create some heat-induced hallucination to fuck him silly. What was wrong with him? He pushed back from the sink, a little too hard and knocked the back of his head into the door. Tears welled, both from the sharp thudding in his head and just how far he’d been driven because of his omega bullshit. Even worse still, his pants still tented at his groin. Not even a smack to the back of the head was enough to calm him down, or get him to stop thinking about Zack.
Stupid. God, you’re so fucking stupid. He grabbed for the bottle of suppressants behind the mirror, popping one into his mouth and dry swallowing. He had been taking them exactly as instructed, but that didn’t seem to matter as his ass itched from how wet it was and even now he was rubbing his cock against the edge of the sink without thinking. Maybe another would help. Could omegas have especially tough heats that need extra dosages? He didn’t know. Maybe it would help. It had to, since he didn’t exactly have an alpha to solve the problem for him, and no way was he rushing out to Wall Market and having his first time in one of their alpha dens. No fucking way.
30 minutes passed. An hour.
So far, it wasn’t working. Cloud attempted to distract himself, firstly changing out of his sweat and slick-stricken clothes and putting on an accursed sanitary pad. He took a cold shower, scrubbed the cum off the floor, and could have even fooled himself into thinking this was working. Until he caught himself rubbing his ass against the floor. It was humiliating. He was the ice princess, untouchable and completely in control. Or that’s what he wanted to be. Some lone beta out in the world that wasn’t at the whims of anyone or anything.
He took a seat next to the window, letting the cool breeze rush over his hair and face. Knees lifted to his chest, wrapping his arms around them as he gazed out the window, down to the sleepy Sector 7. Any other night it would have been so welcome and peaceful, tonight he wished there was something to offer him a distraction.
How could the world be so calm when his insides were on fire? When his ass ached so damn bad? He was pathetic. Defective. No wonder they didn’t want him as a SOLDIER, his genetics were apparently so fucked up that even suppressants didn’t work on him. That thought dispersed quickly, Tifa’s soft voice ringing out in his mind with the words he’d heard a thousand times by now. “There’s nothing wrong with you, just breathe.”
Yes. He needed to breathe.
She was right, like always. Even being a disembodied voice in his psyche, she was a hell of a lot smarter than him.
He shifted over, grabbing his phone off the bed and opening it with a flip. Could he call her? It was late, and even if she answered it wasn’t as if she could do anything for him. She was an omega, same as him; not to mention he loved her too much to ever go down that road with her. Still, he found her contact and hit the green button.
The phone rang 2 times, then 3, then mid-way through the 4th dial her sleepy voice sounded on the other end.
“Cloud?”
Even hearing her half-asleep, staticky voice brought a little weight off his chest. He must have indulged in that relief for a minute too long because she called his name again. Ah. He forgot to say anything. “Y-Yeah, it’s me. Sorry, I know it’s late.”
“Is everything okay?” The sleep in her voice had been replaced with concern, and he could hear her shuffling on the other end like she was sitting up. Shit, he hadn’t meant to get her out of bed or anything. He just needed… a friend. Someone to exist in the world with him. He cleared his throat.
“Yeah. I’m okay. Bar’s fine.”
There was a long moment of silence before she spoke up again.
“...You sure you’re okay? You don’t normally call.”
No, he didn’t. They had probably had less than a handful of phone calls even since they found each other in Midgar, and they never lasted more than a couple minutes. He didn’t like having to make conversation, and she had learned to respect that early on into their friendship. Another thing he loved about her, she didn’t push him or make him feel like he was a problem. It had been another minute of silence before she echoed his name again, ensuring he was still on the line.
“Do you… remember any of the SOLDIERs?”
She hesitated this time. “I met two of them at home… remember? I told you about that.” There was a strain in her voice, making it damn obvious he shouldn’t have brought it up. Of course he remembered, who could have forgotten what happened. He swallowed. The lump in his throat kept coming back. He still didn’t know why he called, or maybe he had called to talk about the suppressants, ask for some advice. But if that were true why was he talking about SOLDIER again? Even his own brain was sick of it. It was a distraction, though. He could focus on this, on these questions and not the pang in his hole saying if he didn’t get bred soon his whole body would go into shock.
It probably wouldn’t.
“Zack was there?”
She gave a soft noise of agreement, so he continued. “I… think about him sometimes. About what happened. Maybe I could have stopped it if I had, if I had…” his voice got quieter the longer he spoke, as if whispering them would be enough to make them disappear. Tifa took in a breath to speak, but he asked before she could. “What was he like?”
“You met him too, remember? You know what he was like.”
His heart clenched in his chest and he shook his head. This was no use, even if she talked about him all night it wouldn’t bring him back. Nothing would. At some point Cloud had to buck up and stop pining after a man he met once. Sure they were both country boys and Zack had been the first person on the planet to care who he was under the mask. But that was it, they weren’t friends or boyfriends or anything of the sort. They met once. Cloud was kicked out. Zack disappeared, presumed dead. He had to stop beating off to a memory.
That thought was too much, a tear slipping down his cheek. Pathetic was the only word he had left for it. Daydreaming of a man he barely knew just because he got an ounce of attention once. Of course Cloud had wanted more, but he had little say in it when he presented and got thrown out of Shinra altogether. If he hadn’t been an omega he could have been there, could have saved Zack and protected Tifa. Or at least found out what the fuck really happened, instead of living in the world where records of all of them were expunged, pretending like SOLDIER never existed at all. It made him so angry, and his ass hurt so fucking bad. Even if Zack had lived, there was no saying he would have wanted Cloud. Or that he was even into dudes.
As if that mattered, he would be alive! He could walk down the street and eat shitty ramen and they could breathe the same fucking air. What he wouldn’t give to live in a world where he could breathe his air, smell his musk, and hear that full-bodied laugh.
Heats made him so whiny, but this was more than that. He sniffled and Tifa apologized. For what, he had no idea. This was his fault, he’s the one that couldn’t get Zack out of his head, and he’s the one who called her to feel less alone.
“I can come to the bar if you need me. I’m here for you, always.” Her voice was so reassuring and genuine, and it only made him feel worse. It was a nice idea to have her close by, share some drinks and talk about anything else on the planet. But he had to deal with his ass, and being around anyone else was a serious no-go. His whole anatomy was a cruel joke that here he could be, sniffling and miserable, and still thinking about a dead man wearing him around his cock. Maybe tomorrow they could talk, they were on the same meds so maybe she had some sort of clue what was going on. All he really knew was he had to end this call.
“Something’s wrong with my meds. Sorry, Tifa. I’ll be normal tomorrow.” He very much doubted that, but he said it with a cold resolve and thumbed the red button before she had time to protest or worry any more. There was plenty of time to feel remorse over being so curt– tomorrow. Tonight he needed sleep, and the only way to get that was to give in. Shove down any uncomfortable feelings and fuck himself like a man.
And unfortunately… The only thing his ass wanted was 6’2 and wore a goofy smile. So much for his resolve to stop using his memory like this. It was insanely selfish, and kind of fucking morbid. He reached under the bed, tugging out a small chest and fingering the 4 digit combo into the lock. It opened with a soft click, and there was his prize. Nestled under his old Shinra armor, a magazine’s corner poked out. As much as they tried to purge the memory of SOLDIER from the world, they probably hadn’t accounted for anyone to tuck away these old editions in their wank bank. His nose wrinkled. First and last time he’d ever call it that.
Holding the magazine in both hands, his mouth was already dry. The front cover was a close up of his gentle face, when he first got the new shaggy hairstyle. And the scar on his jaw was still fresh. Cloud could look everywhere but those blue eyes. It was a little too sad to gaze longingly into the eyes of a picture. He flipped through, finding the two-page spread with ease.
Zack must have known what he was doing when they took these pictures. The man laid across the two pages, holding himself up on his elbow and throwing a wink to the camera. His massive sword lay next to him, but the most impressive part of the picture was lower. The sweater hung taut to his pecs, outlining just how built he really was. But it hiked up at some point, revealing his bronzed midriff and deep crevices leading into his pants. He could only imagine what it would be like to put his mouth to him, greedily laying kisses and licks down his abdomen until he got to the true prize.
He gently sat the magazine down at his side, lifting his ass off the ground to tug his pants and underwear down to his knees. Cloud shifted his position to lean his back against the open chest. Hips angled up enough that his hand could reach back to his ass, though his fingers failed to find purchase over and over on the slippery flesh. It would have been embarrassing still being so wet, but his other hand was already massaging the head of his cock, keeping his focus solely on pleasure. Finally his fingers found his hole, scooping up some of the moisture with two fingers and gingerly sliding inside.
“Fuck” his voice was soft, like a prayer to some god of anal.
He started gentle, teasing his entrance and rolling the fingers around to make room. Those slow rolls pulled a purr from his lips, eyes shutting to savor it. The one bonus of being a virgin, he mused, was just how tender he was each and every time. His ass burned to be fucked hard and fast, but the steady sliding in and out, only reaching his second knuckle was doing wonders already. Drool slipped from his open mouth, slipping down his chin as he pushed further inside, rubbing against his walls and stretching his insides as much as he could. He leaned forward, giving his fingers the extra leverage to press all the way to his last knuckles.
It was easy then to find his most sensitive spot, fingertips brushing against it and sending a shudder of pleasure moved from his abdomen to his legs. His voice was consumed with moans as he pressed harder, fucking himself with a newfound vigor.
His other hand had slowed, only flicking and rubbing against his slit. All focus was on his ass. How nice it would have been for his fingers to be replaced with a cock. Something thick and throbbing… like Zack’s cock must have been. If Zack had been here, stretching him wide enough that nothing else would ever satisfy quite like he did… Opening up his deepest parts, parts only an alpha– no, parts only he could reach, and filling him with enough hot seed that even a knot couldn’t keep it all from seeping out.
That damn outfit kept from making out any discernible details between Zack’s legs, but he imagined him huge. Thick and throbbing and in need of a milking. His fingers moved faster, only sliding out to the second knuckle every time before ramming in with all the force he could muster. Every plunge brought a cacophony of wet sounds, his slick squelching as it gushed from him and made the floor beneath him slippery enough that he gradually slid down. The cold, wet floor now pressed against his side as he worked tirelessly to ride his fingers.
“Zack-!”
That name fell from his lips in a desperate moan as he reached the apex. His walls twitched and quivered, squeezing his fingers with all his might as pleasure ripped through him. It was so much different than just cumming, the sensation sending a shockwave through his nerves like he’d been struck by lightning. His ass shuddered with ecstasy, the seedless orgasm leaving him light-headed, black dots sprinkling his vision like so many stars. He leaned forward to roll further on his stomach. Still aching for more, but spent enough that he could feel the exhaustion finally taking over. His fingers slid out with a soft, wet ‘pop’ and his form curled in on itself, breaths slowing to a steady pace.