Here you go... an entire oneshot about Sephy's eyes. ...Mostly. I haven't done only SxC for a while... though watch out--this has like, two lines of dialogue. Deal with it. :D And apparently 'Nightlight' is one word. Heh, who knew...

Disclaimer: I don't own FFVII. ;.;

If anyone heard Cloud's quick footsteps, they would have thought he was running.

But no, Cloud assured himself as he lightly scampered through Shin-Ra's darkened halls, he was not running. He was simply eager to get home… right?

Cloud had never admitted it out loud, but he was deathly afraid of the dark. And right now, past midnight and stranded in one of the scariest wings of the massive headquarters, being 'deathly afraid' had turned into something like being 'seconds away from having a nervous break down.'

It was all Zack's fault, really. The SOLDIER had called Cloud down there to help him sort and categorize a bunch of old equipment after dinner. Long story short, roughhousing in the storage room was not a good idea, and it had taken them far longer than they had originally planned to finish the job.

Zack had left early, saying Angeal and Genesis needed him for something (Cloud didn't want to know what). Cloud only had to finish sticking one box on a shelf and jot a few things down in a logbook, but that had somehow taken him fifteen minutes in itself.

When he had finally left, tired and aching to go home, he had stopped short in the hallway, appalled.

Since when had there been a time when the lights got shut off? (Cloud was always inside his quarters for the night by eleven—never had he still been out and about close to one in the morning.)

Keeping the rising terror at bay, Cloud located a hallway he was supposed to turn down. There was a lone, frail light at the far end of the hallway, but it didn't really reassure him any. Standing under one of the lights made the darkness all around him out of the bulb's reach even more ominous.

Cloud glanced over his shoulder for the seventy-third time, convinced he had heard a noise.

…Maybe it was a killer. Come to shoot him!

Darting up a flight of stairs and emerging into an equally dark new floor, Cloud clapped a hand over his heart and tried to keep his panicked breathing down.

…Maybe the killer wasn't going to shoot him. Maybe they were going to beat him senseless with a candlestick like in fucking Clue, and his body wouldn't be found for weeks.

Cloud caught sight of his destination (finally!) in the dim light from an emergency light at the end of the hall. There was a loud creak from about thirty feet behind him, and Cloud forced himself not to cry out.

…Maybe the killer would rape him before doing the other awful things. Maybe his mother would get his pinkie finger in a jar of his own blood on her doorstep one day, the last sickening reminder of her poor son.

Cloud grasped the doorknob and tugged; it didn't budge. He belatedly remembered the First-Class I.D. card in his pocket and pulled it out with shaking fingers, clumsily sticking it in the slot. A light turned green and he yanked it open, just when the killer made a grab for his hair.

Cloud panted for a few moments, leaning against the closed door, eyes shut. He was well aware he had an overactive imagination, but sometimes… it felt so real!

He opened his eyes, noting with a sinking heart that this wasn't any better. The apartment was pitch black, and there wasn't any bare bulbs to offer a brief relief.

He had to be quiet.

Cloud stuck both hands out in front of him like a zombie and took a few tentative steps. He knew the layout of the apartment—of course he did—but it still seemed bigger and more threatening in the dark like this.

Immediately hitting his knee on a table he could've sworn was a few feet to the left, Cloud bit back a yelp. Quiet, he hissed to himself.

With a bunch of small injuries, Cloud eventually made it to the bedroom. There was clearly a big shape on the one side of the bed, and Cloud's breath was released slowly.

He hurried over, pulled off his jacket and boots and squirmed under the sheets, pressing close to the warm body and squeezing his eyes shut.

After a few moments, Cloud started to relax. He was safe now.

Sephiroth shifted a bit in his sleep, somehow sensing Cloud was back. The General hadn't expected him to show up that night, which probably explained why he was unconscious and not waiting for him. (There was no way he was going to go all the way back to the barracks in the dark—this was closer.)

The frantic heart beating against Sephiroth's side calmed down slowly. Cloud let Sephiroth's warmth and scent surround him, and he felt himself going boneless.

Staring at the ceiling, Cloud frowned. The longer you stared at one spot, the edges of your vision got darker and darker. It was a weird visual effect, and Cloud's breath caught at the sheer blackness of it all. Even beside his lover, he was still afraid.

…Something caught his eye.

Cloud turned, wiping a terrified tear off his cheek. Sephiroth was stretched out on the bed contentedly, but that wasn't what held his attention.

Sephiroth was… glowing.

Or, his eyes were.

Everyone knew Mako made your eyes glow. But never, never had Cloud seen anyone's eyes glow so much that you could see the pulsing green through their eyelids.

Cloud propped himself up on his elbow to look closer. He could make out long silvery lashes gently brushing the tops of Sephiroth's cheekbones, and above them…

Yup, definitely glowing. (Cloud supposed that he had never noticed them before was because he usually fell asleep before Sephiroth, or they fell asleep together. That, or he had more pressing matters to attend to with the man and didn't have attention to spare on his eyelids.)

Cloud knew what he probably should have been thinking. It was weird. Unnatural. His boyfriend had been so pumped full of the hazardous chemical that it could be seen from a distance away, even when his eyes were closed. Freak. Scary.

Monster.

But Cloud thought it was rather… endearing. He cuddled a bit closer, tucking his head under Sephiroth's chin.

…It was silly to be afraid of the dark here. Sephiroth was warm and solid and strong—no killers lying in wait could get to him when Sephiroth was around. And the lack of light really wasn't that much of a problem, thanks to those pretty Mako-enhanced eyes.

Sephiroth was his own personal nightlight.

Cloud smiled into the fabric of Sephiroth's t-shirt, tangling their legs together. The older man had ditched his tight leather pants and was wearing a pair of loose pajama pants, surprisingly.

There was a soft touch to his cheek, and Cloud looked up. Sephiroth had woken somehow, yawning and looking sleepy. His smoldering green eyes were almost too bright to look at in the darkness—Cloud had to squint to hold his gaze.

Sephiroth didn't ask why he was there; he seemed content with the knowledge that he was safe and with him.

"…You okay?" Sephiroth said thickly, voice heavy with sleep.

"Fine," Cloud answered. He leant up and kissed his handsome Nightlight, letting Sephiroth pull him up onto his chest.

Sheets were fixed, strong arms wrapped around his waist, and the two men kissed chastely a few times before Sephiroth leant back on the pillows, eyes sliding shut again. Cloud watched in awe as the glow remained.

Sephiroth slowly rubbed his back, though it grew even more sluggish after a few minutes. Cloud smiled as Sephiroth slipped back into sleep again.

Cloud appreciatively eyed Sephiroth's green eyelids and snuggled down, closing his eyes. He gave a big 'Fuck You!' to the darkness and all the scariness that came with it.

He was protected and loved by the strongest man on the planet. A while ago he could have been afraid…

…But he had his Nightlight now.