Stretch
Notes:
Hello again!
It's been ages since I've written anything, and I'm not quite sure what this is supposed to be. I knew what it was supposed to be: a Cloud/Leon, which I have never written before. But as I was writing this, the plot I had in mind just spun out of my control and it turned into a Cloud-centric story with Cloud/Leon friendship. I am an awful author to let that happen. Heh.
Anyway, here it is! I'm not sure it makes much sense, as I said, it kind of took out from under me and wrote itself.
Cloud is sick of being asked why he never smiles.
He does smile. He does. He can curve his lips when he wants to, pulling them back over white teeth. He can lift one corner of his mouth when he's amused, he can lift both corners politely when the elder shop ladies offer him his change. He can do all those things, if he wants. The thing is that he doesn't want. He doesn't want to smile and hell—even Cid is on his back about it.
Crack one every now and then, eh? Keeps ya young!
Cloud is not concerned with youth. He could smile a million times a day. He could never stop smiling, and he would die sooner or later, all the same.
Sometimes I think you don't even like me! Your heart's like a big popsicle, Cloudo. Let it melt. Let it meeeelt.
He does like Yuffie. He likes her very much, and it is because of this that he allows her such eccentricities whenever she's around him. Yuffie doesn't see that, though. Simple and direct, Yuffie only sees that he doesn't smile when she makes a joke or hugs him in the morning. Listening and acceptance are not enough for simple friendships.
You are happy. Aren't you?
Aerith. He tells her over and over, and he's such a hypocrite. He knows he will do anything to see her smile, and worries when she doesn't. She doesn't smile when he says he's perfectly happy, because she thinks he's lying. She won't smile because she's worried. He is lying, but he won't smile, either. Love between them had always been born from mutual worry over one another.
I…He cares for them. He appreciates them. He understands that Cid's shrewd gaze, Yuffie's anger and Aerith's worry are all part of who they are, annoyances Cloud must face if he is to be part of their family. Father, sister and mother. Cloud only wishes they understood him, but their family is broken. They need loving actions and words to make up for their personal losses, and Cloud is not good with any of these.
He misses Tifa.
He has Leon.
Leon is the only one who follows Cloud to his usual spot at the Bailey, where he is usually guaranteed silence and solitude, a long view from the windows where he is allowed to stretch out his thoughts. He leans next to Cloud by the window, his arms folded over the stone sill, and lets his own thoughts stretch, as if they might intertwine.
Cloud does not think they could possibly intertwine. The man with whom he'd once shared a rough and distant friendship is different now, grown out of the careful mold where Cloud had left him. They no longer share cold anger and twisted secrets. Leon has somehow come to terms with his past, leaving Cloud far behind. He can see it in the colour of his eyes, that contented smile as they stand side by side.
It makes Cloud feel painfully young and misunderstood.
"Where'd you put Leon?" he demands sulkily, one afternoon.
Leon's smile grows slowly, as if Cloud has finally voiced the question he'd been waiting for. He turns, one arm still resting on the windowsill, and surveys him with those eyes. Light and peaceful, and so different from what Cloud has always known.
"Nowhere," he says, playing along. "I'm right here."
And that was it. He was right there, and he was right there every day, bumping hips with Cloud in greeting like he did with Yuffie and Aerith and Cid, Tifa, Rinoa and even Vince when they'd been alive. He stood, right there, and stretched out his thoughts far, far, far. Only lately, Cloud's thoughts haven't been stretching very far at all.
"How'd you do it!" he cries eventually, twisting his fist in Leon's shirt and shoving him back and then close, spitting in his face. "Where'd you get it?"
If Leon were Aerith, he would sit Cloud down and calmly ask him to explain what he meant. If he were Yuffie, he would bite his nails and sway, pretending to listen but in reality thinking of the best way to flee the room. If he were Cid, Tifa or Rinoa, he'd be kicking Cloud's ass and if he were Vincent, Cloud would be dead.
But he wasn't any of these people. Leon is Leon, standing right there and understanding exactly, changed as he may be, what Cloud meant.
"I didn't get it anywhere," he replies calmly, gently dislodging Cloud's hands from his shirt. "It just takes time, Cloud."
He touches Cloud's shoulder and leaves, giving Cloud his silence and solitude, and a whole horizon all to himself. Cloud isn't sure he likes the solitude so much anymore, but Leon has given him not only room but also reason to think.
Time.
Cloud thinks that maybe it isn't to be understood that he needs from the others. He thinks maybe he needs time to make himself understood, to make himself into someone who can be understood. He needs time to figure out the actions and words he needs to explain how he feels and why he doesn't like to smile.
He needs time to smile, too.
When Aerith asks him if he's happy, he'll say that he isn't.
He'll tell her he has no idea why.
He'll say maybe Leon knows.
When he tells this to Leon next day, the older man laughs and bumps his hip, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"That was actually funny," he teases, holding on tight when Cloud struggles against the hold. "Where'd you put Cloud?"
The obvious answer would be to tell Leon he was right there, but he doesn't. He doesn't because Cloud isn't sure he's right there yet. In fact, he's mostly sure that he isn't there yet, and won't be anytime soon.
"Maybe some day," he replies, thinking of Tifa. "I'll tell you."
End.