AU for the Strifehart Kink Meme on LJ. Prompt: "Cellist!Cloud and Bassist!Leon. Bonus points if you manage to include a musical innuendo. (Yes, I am that much of a nerd.)"

Disclaimer: dood, fanfiction. Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, and the characters and universes therein are the property of Disney and Square Enix. I receive no remuneration for this work; it is a parody and as such utilizes the Fair Use clause of the Copyright Act.

Squall Leonhart has great hands. Hands that keep a perfect steady rhythm for them all to follow, strong, slender hands that pluck the thick strings of his bass with ease and handle the sheer mass of his instrument with flawless balance and composure. Hands that know that he isn't there as a focus, but as a support, and a necessary one.

Hands like instruments themselves with how much they move him, taking him higher than he has any right to go and still there for him, steadfast and secure, when he can't fly any longer and is forced to come crashing back down.

Hands that appreciate his flaws and smooth over his rough points until they're a part of him he can be a little more okay with, molding them into something that won't overwhelm him. Hands that cup his face and let him know that he's not so very alone in his fears.

Hands that reassure him each and every day that he is the only one, wood and steel and rosin aside, to know the power of their touch.

For Cloud Strife, those hands are all he'll ever need to know.

Cloud Strife has great hands. Hands that manage to reach the lowest and the highest notes his cello has to offer with an ease born of years of devotion. Hands that lead the rest of his section with boldness and quiet pride, capable of carrying the weakest of them when he has to and pushing others to shine when they're able.

Hands that roam his body with such gentle precision, hands that know him inside and out, with a touch that's strong and demanding when it needs to be and exquisitely careful when it's necessary. Hands that respect who he is and help to shape him into who he wants to be.

Hands that tell him it's okay to feel not good enough, that let him know he's not alone in that. Hands that clasp his own and let him know they will be there for him unconditionally. Hands that mean the world to him.

Hands that reassure him each and every day that he is the only one, shaped and hollowed wood aside, to know the power of their touch.

For Squall Leonhart, those hands are all he'll ever need to know.