A/N: A gift fic for the Strifehart Secret Santa over on Tumblr. This is my gift for the wonderful Liverpepper. Sorry its so late, I've had internet problems. I hope you like it, and keep your eyes peeled for chapter two.

The Stranger and the Strange Man

It didn't matter how many layers of paper he stuffed into his jumper, Cloud could still feel the cold. His feet felt it the worst, but that probably had more to do with the hole that had been worn through the sole of his beaten up boots, and the freezing slush soaked through to his tatty sock.

Summer was a fine time to be homeless. Late, warm evenings and the fresh scent of hot pavement in the air. Cloud squeezed his eyes closed tighter and tried to picture it, but the cold air caught in his nostrils as he tried to take a whiff of that imagined scene, and it also didn't help that the three drunks from the bar down the road were currently kicking seven shades of shit out of him; the frosted air getting stuck in his lungs where a wayward boot had caught his diaphragm.

He'd tried to wriggle away but his legs were tangled up in his sleeping bag, and so he'd curled up small, cheek pressed to the freezing slush that was speckled with dots of red, and waited for it to be over.

It was hard to judge how long they'd be. Some got tired after a few minutes, exhausted by their own eagerness. Others played it out as long as they could. After three years on the street this wasn't the first time he'd been attacked. You never could trust a drunk.

One final kick to his face and a boot brought down hard on his wrist, and that was the end of that. Through the ringing in his ears and the warmth of the blood gushing from his nose, Cloud watched the three men disappear. Staggering and laughing, congratulating each other.

Cloud tried to pull the sleeping bag up around his chin and control the shivering. He heard it was a trick of the mind, all he had to do was relax his shoulders and tell himself he wasn't cold. But that was easier said than done when his nose and cheeks ached from the bitterness and his ears were stung red. He could barely move his arm anyway.

It had started to snow again, and the wet footprints on the pavement were slowly being filled in. The wind blew the drifts of snow up against the doorway Cloud was sprawled out in, and he lamented another night of freezing and soggy blankets. He watched the swirling, tumbling snow flakes fall from the inky sky with a dazed sort of detachment, all the while registering the sound of approaching footsteps with mild curiosity. Maybe that blow to the head had hit him harder than he'd thought?

The blurry outline of a man came into view, and Cloud watched him, lazy and unhurried in his movements as he crouched down and tilted his head to the right, taking in Cloud's ragged and tatty clothes, blood stained face, and the churned up snow.

"You're hurt," the man said. His voice seemed to disturb some of the fog from Cloud's mind and his vision cleared a bit, the haze parting to reveal the man and his glacial eyes in startling clarity. It didn't last long. Cloud was adrift on a sea of nausea, and it quickly closed over him again. He groaned in response and closed his eyes, wanting to make the world stop tipping sideways and back every time he moved his eyes.

"You shouldn't be out here, you're hurt." The man said again, his voice echoing inside Cloud's skull. Cloud couldn't agree more with him, but what else was he gonna do?

He felt a touch against his forehead, the warmth of fingers like a hot lance through his temple and he shrank back, eyes tearing open to stare up at the stranger with as much warning as he could reasonably muster.

"I live over there," the man pointed behind him across the street, and Cloud had a vague sense of recollection as he remembered seeing the man walking to and from his apartment each morning and evening. Same time everyday, like clockwork. "You should come with me."

Cloud managed to raise himself up onto his elbow, keeping his spinning head steady as he wrinkled his brows and levelled the strange man with the stare that suggested he was crazy.

"I'm not going anywhere with you." Cloud groaned, bracing his bruised ribs with a stiff and frozen hand as he sat up, breathless with the exertion.

"But you're hurt." The strange man observed again, his gaze never quite meeting Cloud's. Cloud narrowed his eyes and considered him, noting his finely cut features and piercing stare that held a strange simplicity within them, though it was hard to read them completely. His hair was dark and long around his face, and the only imperfection was a long and neat scar that cut across the bridge of his nose.

"It's cold; you could freeze out here." He added, those strange eyes appearing to hold a simple concern.

"What's it to you?" Cloud snapped, surprised that his rudeness didn't even seem to register with him. The man shrugged, looked over his shoulder as if considering something, and then looked back in Cloud's direction, placing his gaze just above Cloud's collar.

"My place is warm, and there's a shower if you want. It's just over there." He said again, pointing across the street.

Great, Cloud thought to himself, I'm being harassed by a simpleton.

"Look buddy, I don't need your pity, okay? I'll be alright, just go home; It's Christmas, I'm sure you've got family to get to."

The man continued to stare at him and then slowly shook his head.

"No," he admitted quietly. "It's just me."

The simple, unaffected way he said it, without any trace of emotion or self-pity, twisted something in Cloud that resembled empathy, and he stared hard at him.

"You live on your own? No family or friends?"

The man shrugged again and shook his head. A clear sign he felt the statement was neither unusual or problematic. "You shouldn't be out here when you're hurt." He repeated again, an earnest sort of frown creasing his brow.

"You make a habit of inviting strangers back to your house?" Cloud asked, wondering not for the first time in this short exchange why he was even entertaining him. Being homeless was like being invisible; no one noticed him. Except when they were drunk and looking for sport.

"No. You're the first." The man said without any hint of irony or amusement. "Are you coming or not?" He added, standing to his full height.

Cloud took a moment to consider. The man put him on edge, there was no denying that. But then again wasn't that Cloud's default? It was a foolish man who lived on the streets and didn't remain in a high state of alert. But Cloud was tired and sore and he really, really wanted that hot shower.

"Fine," he said, moving against his better judgement. He stood up, slowly and with a muffled groan of pain, and extended his hand in offering. "I'm Cloud."

The man stared at it for a moment, before cautiously slipping his own warm fingers into Cloud's palm and shook it briefly. "Leon."

The contact lasted only as long as it needed to, and then Cloud was gathering up his meagre belongings and following the stranger across the road to his apartment.

It was small and simple; a living area with kitchenette, a single bedroom and bathroom and a small box room that had been cleverly adapted into a study. The only odd thing about it was the lack of photos or decorations – considering the time of year.

"Not a fan of Christmas huh?" Cloud observed with a wry grin as he set his bag down by the sofa.

Leon shrugged, "It's alright. The bathroom is down the hall, you can use the shower if you want. You're still bleeding."

Cloud had to admit Leon's reluctance to meet his gaze was unnerving, the fact that he seemed to notice things around him regardless was even more so. He lifted grubby fingers to his nose and they came away smeared with blood. His face was still so cold he hadn't noticed.

"Ugh, sorry. I... I'd better go clean up." Cloud limped down the hall, wondering exactly what he'd gotten himself into.

It had been a long time since Cloud had seen his reflection, and considering the image that stared back at him from the mirror above the sink, he reasoned it wasn't such a bad thing. Sunken and tired eyes set into a grimy and bloody face, speckled with a coarse beard that never seemed to grow in fully stared back at him. Grimy hair that hung limp and greasy around his face was growing out just a little too long, snagged in places but knots. He hated to admit it, but he needed the generous offer of a shower and the opportunity to clean up more than he'd realised. It took him longer than an hour to finally consider himself decent enough to re-emerge. He opened the door to find a pile of clean clothes stacked neatly in the hallway, and once he was dressed and clean shaven, hair combed and smelling distinctly more pleasant than when he'd entered, he headed back to the living room to find Leon occupying himself in the kitchenette.

"Where are my clothes?" he asked, more than a little alarmed to find his bag had been opened and the contents removed.

"In the washer." Leon replied simply, pouring something from the stove into a bowl. Cloud didn't know whether that made him feel better or not. "Here, I made you something to eat." Leon offered him the bowl, the thick scent of hot soup making his belly growl.

"...thanks." Cloud hesitated, far from feeling put at ease. It was taking longer than normal to figure out this guys angle, and there was something unreadable in his soft expression that gave away nothing.

On the coffee table, spread out in a jumbled, organised mess, were sheaves of paper and text books, covered in equations and algorithms that might as well have been an alien language for all Cloud knew. He watched as Leon hurriedly tided them up into a neat pile and clutched them to his chest, making room for Cloud to sit down and set his meal on the table. Leon sat opposite him, setting the work on his lap carefully, running his palm over the pages to keep them from wrinkling.

"You some kind of math whiz?" Cloud asked casually, shaking his burnt fingers out.

"Physicist," Leon corrected him quickly, throwing him a furtive glance from under swaying bangs that made contact with Cloud's gaze for all but one point naught of a second. "I'm a theoretical physicist at HBU."

"Sounds technical." Cloud whistled, some of Leon's oddness falling into place a little as he smiled inwardly.

"It's alright," Leon shrugged.

Cloud bit the inside of his cheek and considered his host for a moment. He'd never met a stranger man, that was for certain, but so far he was fairly certain he wasn't in any immediate danger. The kind of weird vibes he was getting weren't the 'drug you and wear your skin' type vibes, but caution was second nature to Cloud. It would take more than a warm shower and a hot meal to lower his guard.

He ate in silence, acutely aware that Leon was watching him without actually watching him, and he waited to see if the strange man would initiate any sort of conversation. When it became painfully obvious that he wouldn't, Cloud's suspicions were irritated again.

"You're not much of a talker, are you?" He observed, setting his spoon back into the bowl. Leon shook his head. "You got no family or friends?" Cloud asked again, looking around the room for photos that would indicate a lie.

"I have some friends. I don't see them much." It was the closest Leon had come to being affronted all night, though that wasn't saying much. Cloud was beginning to wonder exactly what Leon wanted from him.

"Busy with work I'll bet," he began, watching Leon shrug. "Must get kinda lonely."

"It's alright." Leon gave his answer that Cloud realised was quickly becoming standard. His shoulders were hunched and his hands were neatly folded across the papers on his lap, an air of awkward nervousness about him, and Cloud was beginning to realise exactly why Leon had brought him back here.

Typical, he thought. No such thing as something for nothing.

"No one special: a girlfriend?" Cloud asked, pretence starting to slip away. "Boyfriend?"

Leon frowned a little. "No."

Cloud nodded and sucked on the inside of his cheek. "I see." Breathing deep, he steeled himself. It wasn't the first time, and in all fairness, Leon wasn't completely unfortunate looking. It wouldn't be a total bind.

"I'd better get you some blankets." Leon stood up, taking his books and papers with him, and Cloud took that as his queue. He stood too, and followed him into the hallway, waiting there until Leon returned with a pile of blankets in his arms. He appeared alarmed to find Cloud waiting there for him, the look of surprise flitting across his face for a nanosecond before he backed up slightly, his back hitting the door frame as Cloud crowded in.

"What are you doing?" Leon asked, a hint of uncertainty colouring his tone.

"I thought you wanted some company," Cloud reached up and lightly brushed his fingers against Leon's cheek, making the taller man flinch slightly as he eyed the offending hand with a sideways glance. "That's why you brought me up here, right?"

"I… I just..." Leon was cut off by Cloud gently prizing the blankets out of his arms. He let them fall to the floor, that last barrier between them now eradicated, and Leon stood with his empty hands raised in front of him, palms outward, and Cloud stepped into his personal space and ran his hand down the centre of his chest.

He could feel the heavy heartbeat beneath the cage of his ribs; feel the elevated breath against his cheek, and slowly, Cloud lowered his hand and placed it over Leon's crotch, making the man's breath hitch in his throat and his whole body flinch and stiffen.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" Cloud asked, his breath ghosting Leon's bottom lip as he glanced the tip of his nose against the taller man's. "You wanted to fuck me?" Cloud pressed the barest of kisses to Leon's still lips, trying his hardest to capture Leon's gaze as the man continued to stare off to the side, his cheeks heated red. Leon shook his head, a small sound coming from the back of his throat that might have been a no.

"You want me to fuck you?" Cloud asked instead, not in the least bit repelled by that idea. He continued to tease Leon's bottom lip, pressing enticing little kisses to it, licking the outline as his hand worked slow circles against the fabric of Leon's jeans.

"You… you were hurt," Leon finally managed to get out, the nearness of the other man making him squirm uncomfortably. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Cloud stopped his ministrations and pulled back a little. He furrowed his brow, and still couldn't get Leon to look him in the eye, though he began to feel a terrible sense of realisation steal over him.

"You mean… you don't wanna fuck?" Cloud let his hand fall away, his own cheeks starting to heat for a different reason.

"No." Leon shook his head, and suddenly it became apparent that the man's stiff posture, his raised hands and uneven breathing, were not because of an awkward desire, but just plain awkwardness. Cloud was thrown headlong into embarrassment, and he quickly backed away, swallowing thickly as he rubbed nervously at the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "I just thought… I… well, you know." He laughed, though it contained no amusement. Leon just continued to stare at the floor, his hands still raised in defence. "I really am sorry, I didn't mean..." he trailed off. "I should go."

He turned back into the living room, and picked his bag up, its empty contents remind him that he couldn't leave just quite yet.

"Your clothes are still in the washer." Leon said behind him, though he kept his distance. "And it's still cold outside. You can still sleep on the couch, if you want."

Though he really didn't want, Cloud calculated that he actually didn't have much of a choice. He turned back to Leon, who had retrieved the blankets from the floor and was holding them out to him in a relative semblance of a peace offering.

"Thanks," Cloud replied, taking the blankets and avoiding Leon's face just as vehemently as he was avoiding his own.

"I'm going to bed," Leon told him, "Alone. Goodnight, Cloud." He added.

"Goodnight, Leon. And thanks."

Leon turned back to him, a small awkward smile on his lips. "Merry Christmas," he said softly.

Cloud snorted, amused by Leon's wry humour despite himself.

"Merry Christmas, Leon."