InsaneJournal

Fic: Warmer
Title: Warmer
Author: nishi_shinji
Universe: Final Fantasy
Characters: Sephiroth/Zack
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Sadly, they aren't mine.
Previous Parts: Cool, Warm

Summary: Zack had been kissed before, but something-- something. Everything was different, somehow.

Author's Notes: Beta'ed by ldybastet, tamer of grammar and run-on sentences. Does anyone have any title suggestions for this series?


Zack was pretty sure he hadn't fallen asleep on cotton-covered concrete, but if he had, that would certainly explain his throbbing headache. Even after he nudged himself toward wakefulness, it took him a few moments to figure out that he was actually lying on what was probably the most uncomfortable mattress ever created. The problem was, he didn't remember falling asleep there either-- or anywhere, for that matter-- which brought on a rush of panic that made his eyes snap open.

"You're finally awake."

The room was bright enough to make Zack wince, but he blinked a few times until he could make out Sephiroth's silhouette near the window. A shiver of excitement skittered through him and he narrowed his eyes, trying to force them to focus on the general's face. Sephiroth was staring down at him, green eyes shining in the artificial light and lips pressed together with obvious annoyance. Zack forced a smile, happy to see the general even if he was probably in trouble again, judging by that expression, and shook his head to relieve some of the lingering vertigo. Eventually, the rest of his surroundings grew less blurry as well: pale blue walls, identifiable machinery, and polished steel rails running along both sides of the bed.

"Why'm I in medical?" Zack rasped.

Sephiroth stalked over and reached for a cup standing on the metal tray attached to one of the rails. Zack reached for it, but the general snatched it away and glared down at him. "You can thank your need for heroic gestures combined with an utter lack of common sense. What, exactly, did you think you were doing, engaging four enemies by yourself?"

Since he didn't have an excuse ready, Zack replied by chewing on his bottom lip and trying to look contrite.

"Here." Sephiroth thrust the cup in Zack's direction.

Zack accepted it and took a huge gulp of its contents without looking away from Sephiroth-- then immediately coughed and succumbed to a full-body shiver. "Fu-- are you trying to kill me? What the hell is this shit?"

Sephiroth actually looked amused for a moment before tugging his usual blank expression back into place. "It's water, fortified with vitamins and mako-derived nutrients to help the healing process."

"It's poison," Zack asserted, glaring down into the clear, seemingly innocuous liquid. "You're trying to murder me so I'll stop sleeping on your rug."

"I'd rather you be sleeping on my rug than in medical," Sephiroth replied, taking the cup from Zack's hands and setting it aside. He looked very tired suddenly, like a man who had just come home from war and wasn't sure how to let himself rest after going so long without.

Zack sighed and sank back into the pillows. "How bad was it?"

"Not life-threatening, but your right femur was shattered, your left lung punctured, and I suspect you still have a concussion." Sephiroth scowled down at him. "Of course, that sort of thing is hard to tell, with you."

"Bastard." Zack snorted and tried to adjust his position to ease some of the pressure on the back of his neck. "Where's Commander Hewley? Usually when one of us gets hurt, he hangs out down here, pacing and worrying and driving the doctors crazy."

"He was here and quite worried about you-- and driving me crazy as a result-- so as soon as you were stable, I ordered him to go back to his quarters and sleep," Sephiroth informed him with a slight frown.

Zack pushed himself up on one elbow and stared at the general's profile. "You've been here the whole time?"

"Of course I've been," Sephiroth replied with a huff, as if it was an everyday occurrence for him to be there when really, it was anything but. The general rarely visited the medical wing, and when he did, it was usually only to bark orders or accompany Lazard on routine inspections.

But Zack thought this, like so many other things Sephiroth did that surprised him, was probably something he should just accept without questions. The general didn't seem to enjoy being interrogated about his actions, especially not those that went outside his normal behavior.

"You're too reckless," Sephiroth snapped, startling Zack out of his thoughts. "Do you even realize how close you came to being killed? You've been in medical more times than any SOLDIER I've ever known, and you still show absolutely no regard for your own well-being. One day, Fair, you're going to take your heroics too far, and instead of standing by your bedside, Commander Hewley and I will be reading your eulogy."

Zack knew his mouth was open, and that words should be coming out, but he couldn't seem to make his voice work. He would be the first to admit he barely knew Sephiroth, even after all the time he'd spent in the general's office, but he'd never heard such heated conviction in the man's voice before.

When Sephiroth spoke again, his voice was softer and he looked exhausted again, as if that outburst had stolen the last of his energy. "I know you want to prove yourself to your commanding officer, and you should be congratulated for your motivation. But you simply cannot continue putting yourself and others at risk by taking on more than you can handle at your current skill level, do you understand?"

"Yes," Zack whispered, feeling chastised yet oddly warm inside. "I'm sorry, sir. I know it was stupid, and you're right, I really don't have any excuse except trying to show off. It won't happen again, I promise."

Sephiroth huffed and moved closer to lean down over the bed, one hand braced on the pillows above Zack's head. "It will happen again-- and again and again-- and you'll continue to drive all of us completely mad until we hang ourselves just to save you the trouble of worrying us right into early graves."

"I--" Zack began, but the words got tangled up in his brain and he wasn't sure he could finish the rest of the thought without saying something mortifying. They'd been this close to one another before, even touched on several occasions, but he'd never in his life been looked at the way Sephiroth was looking at him, like they were standing at the center of the universe together and he was at the core of everything. Before he could convince himself it was a bad idea, he lifted a hand to touch a lock of silver hair that had slipped free from behind the general's ear.

"Fair," Sephiroth murmured, catching his wrist before his fingers could wander too far.

Zack swallowed, but didn't try to pull his hand away. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You honestly don't know?" Sephiroth had never whispered before, not to Zack, and there was something terrifyingly intimate about hearing it.

"I think I do." Zack licked his lips and tried to control the erratic beating of his heart. "I just-- you're-- you're you and I-- but you were worried about me, and that made me think-- fuck, I'm babbling, aren't I? It's just-- I haven't thought about-- I mean, I have, because you're you, but not seriously, not like what I'd do if you-- if we--"

"Be quiet," Sephiroth breathed, and kissed him.

Zack had been kissed before, and in fact, this was barely anything more than his lips pressed to Sephiroth's. But something-- something. Everything was different, somehow; his breath caught and his eyes fluttered closed, and his heart beat so fast and hard he could feel it in his throat. There were no fireworks, no flames, no ringing bells or choirs of angels, but there was Sephiroth, and there was Zack, and there was the hum of machinery and the soft rush of their breath through their noses, and the rustle of sheets when he lifted a hand to touch the general's face. It was-- it just was, and for a few seconds, it was everything.

Then Sephiroth broke away, and Zack opened his eyes. They stared wordlessly at each other for what seemed like hours. Neither of them moved away, or tried to pretend their hands weren't touching faces and hair, or that their lips weren't scarce centimeters apart.

"Wow," Zack whispered, feeling out of breath and slightly dizzy. This wasn't a situation he'd ever expected to find himself in; it wasn't a situation he'd even bothered to consider. People didn't kiss Sephiroth-- Zack didn't kiss Sephiroth-- except he had, and Sephiroth's hand was on the side of his neck, and he didn't see any reason at all why it shouldn't happen again.

Sephiroth frowned. "I suppose that telling you we shouldn't do this will be a waste of time."

Bright, ecstatic laughter bubbled up inside Zack, and his lips curved upward in a beaming smile.

"And I suppose it would be an exercise in futility if I were to point out that you have a concussion and are hardly in full command of your senses even without a head injury," Sephiroth went on in an almost-monotone.

Zack's smile widened to a grin.

"You," Sephiroth declared, "are impossible."

"You started it," Zack accused, grudgingly pulling his hand away from Sephiroth's face so the general could stand and straighten his uniform.

Sephiroth huffed. "That doesn't mean that what I'm sure you have in mind is in any way a good idea, or that I believe my actions were appropriate."

"But you're going to do it anyway," Zack replied in a sing-song.

They stared at each other, Zack with a beaming smile and Sephiroth with apparent resignation, until the general turned on his heel and stalked toward the door. "I have paperwork that needs to be attended to, and you need to rest. We'll finish this conversation when you've returned to something resembling a coherent state."

There was nothing incoherent about Zack's state, and he was sure they both knew it, but he decided to just watch Sephiroth leave without commenting on that fact. As soon as the door slid closed again, he tilted his head back against the pillows and closed his eyes.

"You totally started it," Zack whispered to the empty room.