[Cloud and Nier's sleeping patterns meant that there would always be some small space of which neither of them has company.
Nier's out and out nocturnal- he goes to sleep in the early morning, and rises more or less as the sun goes down- but Cloud's not quite nocturnal or diurnal. He tends to sleep at late night to early morning, and top himself up with varying naps both in the day and at night, like a wolf would.
Most of their sleeping arrangement thusfar had been him separating himself from Nier at some point during the morning and coming back in at varying points to take said naps, and then eventually waking up together.
Not like that's the case now. After the sparring session with Sephiroth, he'd gone out of his way to avoid both Nier and Aerith, eventually slinking back into the apartment at dawn. When it was too early for Aerith to be up, but by the time Nier should be down.
...And he doesn't go to his room. Instead, he goes to the balcony, kicking off his boots slowly, almost gingerly, undoing his belt in about the same way. His bracer and hsis shoulderguard soon follow, dumped on the floor rather than placed away, and he spreads himself out on the makeshift bed (a long bench, really. With varying blankets and pillows tossed upon it) he'd made for himself some time ago.
And he lies on his front, not his side- exhaling a quiet sound of faint discomfort.
[ it isn’t intentional. not exactly. with nier, it had always been an even split of decadent selfishness and hypocrisy. the mantra was a simple one: i protect my own.
it helps, hardly, that a part of his mind has begun to register cloud as his territory. the earthy, metal tinged scent, the taste of his lips, the rough yet warm weight of his hand, the heat of the flames on that day. all of it hovered over his mind.
friendship, right?
when cloud wakes up properly, nier is hanging off the balcony with little care. the height doesn’t seem to faze him; not with the way he’s seated on the railing, holding himself up by the elbows.
there’s a chunk of raw meat, presented prettily on a plate, just for cloud. ]
Hey.
[ his under-eyes are greyed with exhaustion, but the ice blues are sharp. ]
[Some small comfort for him, hanging in a place where the sun is rising, should be the fact that Cloud's not exactly out for that long. Said naps typically range from half an hour to two, and this one... about 45 minutes. Feeling of being watched and all. The smell of meat helps, and it's the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes.
...Which appears cut into animal shapes. It's kind of cute. Normally enough to make him smile, but not today.]
...Something wrong?
[He's up- quickly- his eyes widening with concern. And then narrowing with pain. Might've forgot about his injury for a moment. But, as he lifts himself up and stands-]
[Shit, that's right. He could probably smell the blood. He's not bleeding now, but he'd bled enough when it happened for his clothes to be soaked. He shifts, again, a hand rising to rub at the side of his face and his eye.]
...It's alright. [His voice is distant, closed.]
Hunting. I was after something. I screwed up.
[It's a lie. A blatant one- but the truth isn't exactly anything he wants to go into.]
[ it’s the shape in of itself that pings him; it had been visible when cloud tossed and turned, straight and narrow as thought it were the product of a trained movement. ]
[At the statement about lying makes him raise his head from his hand suddenly, makes his eyes narrow, and makes his voice turn lower, more pointed. Lying. He remembers reentering Nibelheim, or the replica of it. Getting told that he was lying.
...He'd been furious. Upset.
Now, he's got no right to be. Because he was lying. Nier's not done anything wrong by pointing that out. But...]
...Look, I don't want to talk about it. You can believe me, or not.
[He stands then, omitting both his boots and the food. Just to get away from his (upside down) gaze.]
[He considers opening the balcony door then, considers stepping inside the apartment to get away from the questioning- but he doesn't. Aerith's probably still asleep. So his hand touches the handle, sure. But it drops.
This'll wake her. And he doesn't want that. He turns back around, and he brings his eyes back to his gaze. Normally, he can't meet it for long. But that's being bashful, easily embarrassed, easily overwhelmed with feeling.
Now, there's feeling, sure. But he knows how to handle this one better.]
I don't need anyone defending me either. I'm fine.
If it wasn’t a problem, you wouldn’t be trying to hide it.
[ there’s a edge of desperation there, and he quickly swallows it down, turning his gaze away. loss had ached more with each and everyone — but this wasn’t that, or even the fear of it.
had he been more self aware, he’d surely be burning with some kind of embarrassment right now. and maybe if cloud were like emil, or even kainé, he’d have given him a gentle push before dropping the subject entirely and figuring it out for himself.
but where does he begin here?
nier returns his gaze. ]
I’m your friend. Of course I want to protect you, whether you want me to or not. I’ll go hunting if I have to.
[ he knows the scent of his blood well, after all. ]
[He locks his arms around himself then, folding them rigidly at his chest. His fists are clenched, fingers digging, uselessly, into his forearms.]
I was training. I screwed up, tried something I shouldn't have, and got clipped. The scrape on my back was an accident. That's all it is.
[It's still a lie. Mostly because with Sephiroth, there were no accidents. It was a lesson- a painful one, but one which would be just that. Painful. And it's a lesson he's willing to take. Because with it, comes more knowledge of the man, more opportunity to parse for weakness in another session, an opportunity to learn something he could exploit when all of this is over.
According to Nier, his world is still around. And he needs to learn, if he's going to stand a chance at doing anything to help it.
It's... an interesting philosophy. Interesting in the respect that it's mostly a crapshoot. But it's a little closer to the truth.]
[ nier lets him speak before opting to correct him. there is something in his tone that isn’t quite easy to decode, but it lowers regardless, closer to the edge. blue dulls into grey, like steel, and cloud’s quiet anger is met with a wordless challenge. ]
I saw your wound. It’s thin and linear, but it pads out closer to its right side.
That’s because you were stabbed with a katana. I know, because I use them. More than I use greatswords — or anything else.
[ a silence. ]
Who are you protecting? And why isn’t it yourself?
[Screw this. He moves to his makeshift bed again, moving himself down to sit on it, gritting his teeth to do so. His boots are soon collected, and he leans forward, again, gritting his teeth rather than saying anything- to put them on each foot.
...He... honestly doesn't know that it was probably just a glance as he moved. The feeling he had- of some presence- the suspicion he was examined while he was unconscious is fuel to the fire.
Something that comes out in his next statement.]
I'm not protecting anyone. You asked what happened, I answered.
I didn’t see it close up. [ it’s stated matter of factly. he wasn’t one to lie, at least not consciously. there’s a fluid leap down onto the balcony, and he’s standing upright now, as if to signify that cloud isn’t exactly escaping this anytime soon. ]
But I was here as you slept. When you turned, I saw it.
[ his jaw tenses, and he’s not brash or stupid enough to reach out just yet. ]
And you lied. I’m not angry. I just want to know who did it and make sure that it doesn’t happen again.
Um. [That's enough to make him cool down some, and he moves his eyes away for a moment. His fingers continue to press into his arm as Nier speaks, snapping back to him at his last statement.
...And yeah, that's enough to concern him. He loosens his grip on himself, taking a few steps forward.]
Not needed.
[And looking into his face-]
Look, I didn't ask for your help. I'm alright- it was my fault. Not gonna repeat it.
[Great. He's said far more than what he wanted to say already, and he's having to go further into it.]
I was training. I lost concentration and walked into a blade. That's all that happened. And it's my fault. I'm the one that got myself hurt. Satisfied?
[ It crosses his mind to call it. And it's apparent in the tightening of his features, a strange light- coldness- coming into his eyes. This... entire thing. He can't risk anyone getting involved. Trying to seperate it was so stupid.
Just being around him is dangerous. Regardless of world, regardless of circumstance. ]
Or do you still want to hunt down the other person? For holding a sword that I scraped myself on?
[He's on the offensive now, and while Nier's voice only lowers, his own rises- becoming more pointed. He's not yelling. Of course not- but emotion, embarrassment at the injury, shame at the cause, isn't exactly making him handle this anywhere close to well.
And suddenly-]
Save yourself the bother. Find yourself someone else to protect.
[ if there was being bothered, or phased, or emotionally affected by another person’s rage, that would be a reaction reserved for another nier — one who was younger, who hadn’t ended the world with his own two hands.
in place of vulnerability or anger, there is exhaustion. still, there is something stilted about him, his wrongness being a hazard in of itself.
he steps closer, meeting his gaze without relent. ]
You think you can stop me. But nobody ever stops.
[ and then, as what can only be deciphered as a warning— ]
[He's not leaving. He's not yelling, he's not stomping through the apartment, and he's unwavering- He's still here, he's not left. He's not going to leave.
And if I'm lying to you now?
He's not proud of the thought. Or, more accurately, in hindsight, he wouldn't be proud of it- but for now, he's angry enough to not feel any sort of shame. Or fear. When Nier steps forward, closer to him, at his full height and with his eyes so hard, he's got to crane his head up.
But he meets it. His hand rises, to harshly grab at the fur collar of his jerkin and pull at it- hopefully tilting his head down rather than ripping the fur from the seams. Should he be successful, Nier should find himself ...kissed?
It's not exactly soft. Nor gentle. But it's deep- deeper than any he'd previously shared with him, and it's pressing- pushing, actually- almost as if Cloud isn't sure whether or not he means to push him off the damn balcony or not.
Locking lips with a pissed off vampire. Not his best call. But he's not thinking at his best capacity. Emotions.... all of them he should be ashamed of, to be frank, won't let him do so.
When he breaks it- he stares upward, almost defiantly- not letting go of his collar.
[ frankly, a fight is what he expects — so when cloud’s fingers curl into the collar of jerkin, digging, it’s what he braces himself for.
but then there are lips against his, still soft, even in spite of the pressure they exert against his own. the fangs make it a dangerous endeavor; it’s languid and hot, and he feels like he’s drowning for a moment.
when cloud breaks the kiss, they share a silence, taut with tension. cloud speaks with his hands, and nier responds in kind with his mouth, swallowing him in another kiss. his fingers thread through cloud’s hair, gripping him by the back to pull him closer as one of his hands grasps his waist tightly.
fortunately he isn’t at risk of falling off of the balcony, if only because now he’s forcing them both forward, in pursuit of something to shove cloud against as he kisses him. ]
[Nier really can't be blamed for feeling as though some violence would come next, because, if anything, Cloud's body language signals it when their kiss is broken. Hell- when it's silent between them, he's half-expecting to get shoved away. Or maybe even punched himself.
He's bouncing between varying emotions, varying feelings, so much. But throughout all of it, the taste of him on his lips lingers. It demands more- it's the only constant between all of the varying trains of thought his brain is haphazardly following, abandoning, and leaping between- and it means he's ready when he's kissed again.
It's different. This is very different from anything they'd shared before. It's not delicate. It's not gentle, and it's not tentative. It's nothing of the sort- the moment Nier's lips crush themselves against his again, he forces his tongue into his mouth. When he's pulled against the other man so tightly, he retaliates by shoving his tongue against his, winding around it, flicking it, in attempt to exert his own control. To not back down.
When his waist is grasped, he finds his arms already having slipped up the inside of Nier's jerkin, grasping, scrabbling against his smooth, toned and cold chest, the only sign of his discomfort at his back, and his wound being shoved against the cold brickwork of the apartment wall a hitching of his breath- followed by a low groan.
Nier... can probably feel how hard he is, already. The distance between them is nonexistant. And normally, it'd be mortifying. But this is different. Perhaps it's because he's flipping between varying emotional states. Maybe it's because any other emotion is simply too much to handle. Who knew. Who cared?
His hands, at least, know what they're doing now. They're both out- one of them looping around Nier's shoulder, as if in an attempt to stop him from reconsidering- from pulling away- and the other is pulling at straps, at chains, at openings whereever he can find them to try to gain access.
It's... an old-fashioned garment. More armour than anything- so as he fails- as, in this state, seemed inevitable, said hand snakes down his body, latching onto his trousers, pulling them, and him, by the waist, closer. Much closer.
[ there is a need to consume, as there always had been, albeit in a different way — against him, cloud pulls and nier pushes, and he breathes hot air into his mouth as nier’s tongue crashes against his. the simmering heat that’d been a very quiet anger boils over into something else, equally as aggressive, and he shudders at the fingers working at his torso and chest.
instinctively, he half-bucks against cloud, grunting against his lips. whether they’re stumbling, walking or falling doesn’t register in his mind; all he can feel is cloud around him, overtaking him, and he realizes he recognizes this feeling well back from the shadowlord’s castle.
as saliva strings between them, and nier’s chains clink at being haphazardly fiddled with, he feels the outline of cloud’s cock pressing up against his thigh before he can respond appropriately. ]
I—um. [ a blink. ] Yeah.
[ they get there, eventually, and when they do the door swivels shut behind them. nier removes his armor, and his nails dig into the hem of his jerkin, peeling it off; he is pale like the moonlight, the combination of his natural skintone and vampirism at work, and his hair falls sidelong against his face. ]
I know you’re angry with me. [ and still, he does not apologize, instead looping his arms around his waist, guiding him backwards and towards the bed. ] But I’ve thought about this for awhile.
You, I mean. [ said sheepishly, perhaps grumpily even with a crease of his brows, eyes darting to the side. ]
[It's a small statement- one that's tense, and one that's ...distracted. He can't help it. Not at the sight of him. Nier's... beautiful, in such an unconventional way he hasn't seen, hasn't experienced before, but the sight of it, the sight of him and this beauty, presented like this, is too striking to not be distracting.
His torso is long, lean, and nothing close to delicate. Even if he didn't have muscle (which he does), it would be plain to see that he was strong. Highly so. Hell- he's broad, strong arms and strong shoulders littered in scars he hasn't taken notice of before- but his paleness, the measured way he holds himself simply is beautiful. Combined with his body- the way he is- it's indescribably so.
...He has to pull his eyes up to his face. Even if he's being moved backward. He finally does so, only when the backs of his knees collide with the edge of Nier's bed.]
I don't need protecting. I told you that.
[He raises his hand to trace one of the deeper, more angular scars. That... It's dark enough to have been deep. Really deep. It's a stab wound- that can't be mistaken for anything else- and it's location... It should have killed him.
He tilts his head, leaning back slightly, half-stepping back since he can't move any more. Then he moves his hands to his waist, rolling his own jumper up slightly... And then he hesitates. It's only a slight hesitation though. His hands stop suddenly, his eyes rise to Nier's face again, and his gaze lowers before he pulls the fabric up over his head and drops it on the floor.
His own scar is prominent. Squarely on the centre of his chest, dark against the lightness of his own skin. It's sunken in slightly- perfectly straight. His hand moves to Nier's own, taking it by the wrist and laying it flat against it.]
No-one went after anyone for this. And I'm alright. ...What about yours?
[ under his gaze, there is a twinge of embarrassment, a boyish bashfulness at the prospect of being inspected — he merely averts his eyes, shoulders rolling back a centimeter or two.
but then, the touch at his scar sends a shiver shooting through his spine. most had kept their hands away, for fear of how grotesque it was; cloud’s state of undress yanks back at his attention, seizing it by force, and nier thinks that he’s beautiful in turn.
...it’d been strange. he was thin, lithe in a way, but power as well, rippling with muscle in some places more than others. it’s not at all seamless, not with the sinew that protrudes through his skin — and the scar...
there isn’t much time before his wrist is laid against it. his fingers spread out, feeling for cloud’s skin. ]
You’re suffering. You have been for a long time.
[ this, he knows. he saw proof of that in of itself. ]
I would have. [ nier admits, voice low. ]
And I still would.
[ he buries his face into the crook’s of cloud’s shoulder, shoving him onto the bed with a push before crawling onto his weight. it’s a half straddle, and his hair sweeps against his shoulders as his palm goes flat against cloud’s stomach. ]
[The touch of his hand on old, sensitive scar tissue is something that makes him shudder. It's different from when he glances it himself, when he's dressing, or when he checks on it when it aches. Very different. And part of him knows, with the way Nier shudders at his own touch, it's something vaguely the same for him.
It's another thing that makes them similar. It's uncanny how the type of injury is shared. The position of it similar, the eventuality of it identical in both cases. These similarities they share, it makes him wonder how their mindsets are so different.]
Doesn't matter. I've made people suffer too. People that never deserved it.
[How would he react, if Nier got clipped by something he didn't know about? Would he be the same? ...He doesn't know. It's enough to mostly take the wind out of his anger, that's for sure.
Still doesn't entirely unpiss him off, even if it raises questions for what exactly they are to each other.
When the taller man's forehead touches his shoulder, he half raises a hand, half-inclines it to move through his hair in a gesture he would feel is intimate (and unbeknownst to him, Nier probably wouldn't.) and he's about to ask that question- but fortunately enough, he's shoved back.
He has to readjust, and the question goes to the back of his mind. Instead- he half-inclines his upper half up, to trace his lips against Nier's shoulder- focusing on said scar.
And softly-]
You'd be dead if you went after the person that gave me mine. I don't want to bring anything else on anyone else. ...Especially you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Nier's out and out nocturnal- he goes to sleep in the early morning, and rises more or less as the sun goes down- but Cloud's not quite nocturnal or diurnal. He tends to sleep at late night to early morning, and top himself up with varying naps both in the day and at night, like a wolf would.
Most of their sleeping arrangement thusfar had been him separating himself from Nier at some point during the morning and coming back in at varying points to take said naps, and then eventually waking up together.
Not like that's the case now.
After the sparring session with Sephiroth, he'd gone out of his way to avoid both Nier and Aerith, eventually slinking back into the apartment at dawn. When it was too early for Aerith to be up, but by the time Nier should be down.
...And he doesn't go to his room.
Instead, he goes to the balcony, kicking off his boots slowly, almost gingerly, undoing his belt in about the same way. His bracer and hsis shoulderguard soon follow, dumped on the floor rather than placed away, and he spreads himself out on the makeshift bed (a long bench, really. With varying blankets and pillows tossed upon it) he'd made for himself some time ago.
And he lies on his front, not his side- exhaling a quiet sound of faint discomfort.
...Why does he feel like he's being watched?]
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it helps, hardly, that a part of his mind has begun to register cloud as his territory. the earthy, metal tinged scent, the taste of his lips, the rough yet warm weight of his hand, the heat of the flames on that day. all of it hovered over his mind.
friendship, right?
when cloud wakes up properly, nier is hanging off the balcony with little care. the height doesn’t seem to faze him; not with the way he’s seated on the railing, holding himself up by the elbows.
there’s a chunk of raw meat, presented prettily on a plate, just for cloud. ]
Hey.
[ his under-eyes are greyed with exhaustion, but the ice blues are sharp. ]
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...Which appears cut into animal shapes. It's kind of cute.
Normally enough to make him smile, but not today.]
...Something wrong?
[He's up- quickly- his eyes widening with concern. And then narrowing with pain.
Might've forgot about his injury for a moment. But, as he lifts himself up and stands-]
How come you're up?
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You’re hurt.
[ he’d seen it: the wound on his side. there’s a furrow of the brows, and idly, his hand worries at his own sleeve. ]
What happened? Are you alright?
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...It's alright. [His voice is distant, closed.]
Hunting. I was after something. I screwed up.
[It's a lie. A blatant one- but the truth isn't exactly anything he wants to go into.]
I'll be more careful next time.
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[ it’s the shape in of itself that pings him; it had been visible when cloud tossed and turned, straight and narrow as thought it were the product of a trained movement. ]
Who did it?
[ his voice is lowering, now. ]
Who hurt you?
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[At the statement about lying makes him raise his head from his hand suddenly, makes his eyes narrow, and makes his voice turn lower, more pointed. Lying. He remembers reentering Nibelheim, or the replica of it. Getting told that he was lying.
...He'd been furious. Upset.
Now, he's got no right to be. Because he was lying. Nier's not done anything wrong by pointing that out. But...]
...Look, I don't want to talk about it. You can believe me, or not.
[He stands then, omitting both his boots and the food. Just to get away from his (upside down) gaze.]
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his eyes rove over his firm, stopping at his voice before narrowing. ]
Sorry, but I can’t stand by and let you be hurt.
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[He considers opening the balcony door then, considers stepping inside the apartment to get away from the questioning- but he doesn't. Aerith's probably still asleep. So his hand touches the handle, sure. But it drops.
This'll wake her. And he doesn't want that.
He turns back around, and he brings his eyes back to his gaze.
Normally, he can't meet it for long. But that's being bashful, easily embarrassed, easily overwhelmed with feeling.
Now, there's feeling, sure. But he knows how to handle this one better.]
I don't need anyone defending me either. I'm fine.
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[ there’s a edge of desperation there, and he quickly swallows it down, turning his gaze away. loss had ached more with each and everyone — but this wasn’t that, or even the fear of it.
had he been more self aware, he’d surely be burning with some kind of embarrassment right now. and maybe if cloud were like emil, or even kainé, he’d have given him a gentle push before dropping the subject entirely and figuring it out for himself.
but where does he begin here?
nier returns his gaze. ]
I’m your friend. Of course I want to protect you, whether you want me to or not. I’ll go hunting if I have to.
[ he knows the scent of his blood well, after all. ]
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[He locks his arms around himself then, folding them rigidly at his chest. His fists are clenched, fingers digging, uselessly, into his forearms.]
I was training. I screwed up, tried something I shouldn't have, and got clipped. The scrape on my back was an accident. That's all it is.
[It's still a lie. Mostly because with Sephiroth, there were no accidents. It was a lesson- a painful one, but one which would be just that. Painful. And it's a lesson he's willing to take. Because with it, comes more knowledge of the man, more opportunity to parse for weakness in another session, an opportunity to learn something he could exploit when all of this is over.
According to Nier, his world is still around. And he needs to learn, if he's going to stand a chance at doing anything to help it.
It's... an interesting philosophy. Interesting in the respect that it's mostly a crapshoot. But it's a little closer to the truth.]
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[ nier lets him speak before opting to correct him. there is something in his tone that isn’t quite easy to decode, but it lowers regardless, closer to the edge. blue dulls into grey, like steel, and cloud’s quiet anger is met with a wordless challenge. ]
I saw your wound. It’s thin and linear, but it pads out closer to its right side.
That’s because you were stabbed with a katana. I know, because I use them. More than I use greatswords — or anything else.
[ a silence. ]
Who are you protecting? And why isn’t it yourself?
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[Screw this. He moves to his makeshift bed again, moving himself down to sit on it, gritting his teeth to do so. His boots are soon collected, and he leans forward, again, gritting his teeth rather than saying anything- to put them on each foot.
...He... honestly doesn't know that it was probably just a glance as he moved. The feeling he had- of some presence- the suspicion he was examined while he was unconscious is fuel to the fire.
Something that comes out in his next statement.]
I'm not protecting anyone. You asked what happened, I answered.
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But I was here as you slept. When you turned, I saw it.
[ his jaw tenses, and he’s not brash or stupid enough to reach out just yet. ]
And you lied. I’m not angry. I just want to know who did it and make sure that it doesn’t happen again.
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...And yeah, that's enough to concern him. He loosens his grip on himself, taking a few steps forward.]
Not needed.
[And looking into his face-]
Look, I didn't ask for your help. I'm alright- it was my fault. Not gonna repeat it.
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[ his voice hardens a bit, still not raising in volume, but edged with a certain degree of danger regardless ]
You didn’t ask for my help. I don’t think you ever will. That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop.
[ a pause, heavy with silence. ]
If you don’t tell me, I’ll find out myself.
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[Great. He's said far more than what he wanted to say already, and he's having to go further into it.]
I was training. I lost concentration and walked into a blade. That's all that happened. And it's my fault. I'm the one that got myself hurt. Satisfied?
[ It crosses his mind to call it. And it's apparent in the tightening of his features, a strange light- coldness- coming into his eyes. This... entire thing. He can't risk anyone getting involved. Trying to seperate it was so stupid.
Just being around him is dangerous. Regardless of world, regardless of circumstance. ]
Or do you still want to hunt down the other person? For holding a sword that I scraped myself on?
[He's on the offensive now, and while Nier's voice only lowers, his own rises- becoming more pointed. He's not yelling. Of course not- but emotion, embarrassment at the injury, shame at the cause, isn't exactly making him handle this anywhere close to well.
And suddenly-]
Save yourself the bother. Find yourself someone else to protect.
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in place of vulnerability or anger, there is exhaustion. still, there is something stilted about him, his wrongness being a hazard in of itself.
he steps closer, meeting his gaze without relent. ]
You think you can stop me. But nobody ever stops.
[ and then, as what can only be deciphered as a warning— ]
Don’t lie to me again.
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And if I'm lying to you now?
He's not proud of the thought. Or, more accurately, in hindsight, he wouldn't be proud of it- but for now, he's angry enough to not feel any sort of shame. Or fear. When Nier steps forward, closer to him, at his full height and with his eyes so hard, he's got to crane his head up.
But he meets it.
His hand rises, to harshly grab at the fur collar of his jerkin and pull at it- hopefully tilting his head down rather than ripping the fur from the seams. Should he be successful, Nier should find himself ...kissed?
It's not exactly soft. Nor gentle. But it's deep- deeper than any he'd previously shared with him, and it's pressing- pushing, actually- almost as if Cloud isn't sure whether or not he means to push him off the damn balcony or not.
Locking lips with a pissed off vampire. Not his best call.
But he's not thinking at his best capacity. Emotions.... all of them he should be ashamed of, to be frank, won't let him do so.
When he breaks it- he stares upward, almost defiantly- not letting go of his collar.
...He pulls on it again.]
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but then there are lips against his, still soft, even in spite of the pressure they exert against his own. the fangs make it a dangerous endeavor; it’s languid and hot, and he feels like he’s drowning for a moment.
when cloud breaks the kiss, they share a silence, taut with tension. cloud speaks with his hands, and nier responds in kind with his mouth, swallowing him in another kiss. his fingers thread through cloud’s hair, gripping him by the back to pull him closer as one of his hands grasps his waist tightly.
fortunately he isn’t at risk of falling off of the balcony, if only because now he’s forcing them both forward, in pursuit of something to shove cloud against as he kisses him. ]
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He's bouncing between varying emotions, varying feelings, so much. But throughout all of it, the taste of him on his lips lingers. It demands more- it's the only constant between all of the varying trains of thought his brain is haphazardly following, abandoning, and leaping between- and it means he's ready when he's kissed again.
It's different.
This is very different from anything they'd shared before. It's not delicate. It's not gentle, and it's not tentative. It's nothing of the sort- the moment Nier's lips crush themselves against his again, he forces his tongue into his mouth. When he's pulled against the other man so tightly, he retaliates by shoving his tongue against his, winding around it, flicking it, in attempt to exert his own control. To not back down.
When his waist is grasped, he finds his arms already having slipped up the inside of Nier's jerkin, grasping, scrabbling against his smooth, toned and cold chest, the only sign of his discomfort at his back, and his wound being shoved against the cold brickwork of the apartment wall a hitching of his breath- followed by a low groan.
Nier...
can probably feel how hard he is, already. The distance between them is nonexistant. And normally, it'd be mortifying. But this is different. Perhaps it's because he's flipping between varying emotional states. Maybe it's because any other emotion is simply too much to handle. Who knew. Who cared?
His hands, at least, know what they're doing now. They're both out- one of them looping around Nier's shoulder, as if in an attempt to stop him from reconsidering- from pulling away- and the other is pulling at straps, at chains, at openings whereever he can find them to try to gain access.
It's... an old-fashioned garment. More armour than anything- so as he fails- as, in this state, seemed inevitable, said hand snakes down his body, latching onto his trousers, pulling them, and him, by the waist, closer. Much closer.
As this kiss ends-]
...Your room. I want to go there.
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instinctively, he half-bucks against cloud, grunting against his lips. whether they’re stumbling, walking or falling doesn’t register in his mind; all he can feel is cloud around him, overtaking him, and he realizes he recognizes this feeling well back from the shadowlord’s castle.
as saliva strings between them, and nier’s chains clink at being haphazardly fiddled with, he feels the outline of cloud’s cock pressing up against his thigh before he can respond appropriately. ]
I—um. [ a blink. ] Yeah.
[ they get there, eventually, and when they do the door swivels shut behind them. nier removes his armor, and his nails dig into the hem of his jerkin, peeling it off; he is pale like the moonlight, the combination of his natural skintone and vampirism at work, and his hair falls sidelong against his face. ]
I know you’re angry with me. [ and still, he does not apologize, instead looping his arms around his waist, guiding him backwards and towards the bed. ] But I’ve thought about this for awhile.
You, I mean. [ said sheepishly, perhaps grumpily even with a crease of his brows, eyes darting to the side. ]
This is your last chance to stop.
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[It's a small statement- one that's tense, and one that's ...distracted.
He can't help it. Not at the sight of him. Nier's... beautiful, in such an unconventional way he hasn't seen, hasn't experienced before, but the sight of it, the sight of him and this beauty, presented like this, is too striking to not be distracting.
His torso is long, lean, and nothing close to delicate. Even if he didn't have muscle (which he does), it would be plain to see that he was strong. Highly so. Hell- he's broad, strong arms and strong shoulders littered in scars he hasn't taken notice of before- but his paleness, the measured way he holds himself simply is beautiful. Combined with his body- the way he is- it's indescribably so.
...He has to pull his eyes up to his face.
Even if he's being moved backward. He finally does so, only when the backs of his knees collide with the edge of Nier's bed.]
I don't need protecting. I told you that.
[He raises his hand to trace one of the deeper, more angular scars. That... It's dark enough to have been deep. Really deep. It's a stab wound- that can't be mistaken for anything else- and it's location...
It should have killed him.
He tilts his head, leaning back slightly, half-stepping back since he can't move any more. Then he moves his hands to his waist, rolling his own jumper up slightly...
And then he hesitates. It's only a slight hesitation though. His hands stop suddenly, his eyes rise to Nier's face again, and his gaze lowers before he pulls the fabric up over his head and drops it on the floor.
His own scar is prominent. Squarely on the centre of his chest, dark against the lightness of his own skin. It's sunken in slightly- perfectly straight. His hand moves to Nier's own, taking it by the wrist and laying it flat against it.]
No-one went after anyone for this. And I'm alright.
...What about yours?
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but then, the touch at his scar sends a shiver shooting through his spine. most had kept their hands away, for fear of how grotesque it was; cloud’s state of undress yanks back at his attention, seizing it by force, and nier thinks that he’s beautiful in turn.
...it’d been strange. he was thin, lithe in a way, but power as well, rippling with muscle in some places more than others. it’s not at all seamless, not with the sinew that protrudes through his skin — and the scar...
there isn’t much time before his wrist is laid against it. his fingers spread out, feeling for cloud’s skin. ]
You’re suffering. You have been for a long time.
[ this, he knows. he saw proof of that in of itself. ]
I would have. [ nier admits, voice low. ]
And I still would.
[ he buries his face into the crook’s of cloud’s shoulder, shoving him onto the bed with a push before crawling onto his weight. it’s a half straddle, and his hair sweeps against his shoulders as his palm goes flat against cloud’s stomach. ]
He’s dead. It doesn’t matter anymore.
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It's another thing that makes them similar. It's uncanny how the type of injury is shared. The position of it similar, the eventuality of it identical in both cases. These similarities they share, it makes him wonder how their mindsets are so different.]
Doesn't matter. I've made people suffer too. People that never deserved it.
[How would he react, if Nier got clipped by something he didn't know about? Would he be the same? ...He doesn't know. It's enough to mostly take the wind out of his anger, that's for sure.
Still doesn't entirely unpiss him off, even if it raises questions for what exactly they are to each other.
When the taller man's forehead touches his shoulder, he half raises a hand, half-inclines it to move through his hair in a gesture he would feel is intimate (and unbeknownst to him, Nier probably wouldn't.) and he's about to ask that question- but fortunately enough, he's shoved back.
He has to readjust, and the question goes to the back of his mind. Instead- he half-inclines his upper half up, to trace his lips against Nier's shoulder- focusing on said scar.
And softly-]
You'd be dead if you went after the person that gave me mine. I don't want to bring anything else on anyone else. ...Especially you.
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