Fire and Silk

By: Strange and Intoxicating -rsa-

Author Note: This is for kel_fish, who won one of the Help Haiti fan fiction auctions I placed up. Kel wanted a fic about Cloud and his adventures in a dress before FFVII, so I wrote it for her. One of the weirdest things I have yet to write... I mean, it's just bizarre.

Disclaimer: I, Strange and Intoxicating -rsa-, do not own, think I own, or will ever own Final Fantasy VII or its Compilations. If I did, I believe the fourth wall would crumble down and there would be many upon many questions asked. For example--why are all the men fucking?

Fire and Silk

In the back of Zack Fair's closet there was a box. If you didn't already know it was there, the box blended in with the fourteen boxes filled with scuffed boots, sneakers, and one pair of obnoxiously-polished dance shoes. Those would come out too, and by the end of the night they would be scuffed again and in desperate need of another coat of polish.

However, that was not of importance—the box, an old boot box for Shinra's Standard Army lace-ups—was.

Cloud Strife rustled past the lengthy coats and formal-wear to the back, his hands knowing where he was reaching despite the fact that he could very obviously not see it. His fingers settled on the box and touched the corner for the briefest moment before tugging it forward and into his lap. He fiddled with the side, blowing a bit of blonde hair from his eyesight. This was it; he hadn't done it for so long.

With a sigh he stretched himself back up and brought the box, cradled in his arms like a newborn, to the bed before placing it down on the comforter with a small, petulant sigh. Though Zack never chastised him for the contents of the box (and in fact seemed to take great pleasure from them) it was... difficult to show this part of him to anyone else. When you're in the army you have to be tough, manly, strong. Cloud could pull that off the best he could, his feet the concubines of an abusive master, his back weighted with the world and all its worries. Trying to be this man, this strong and muscular man who spit nails and fucked women, when wearing a grunt's uniform, was hard.

That little box hidden in the back of Sergeant Zack Fair's closet was his relief.

"You ready?" Zack asked, coming into the room, his hands tucked in the pockets of his black slacks, hair mussed and streaked with wetness. His skin looked like it was sprayed with a fine mist of cold water, making little prickles appear on his upper arms. He was quite a handsome guy if Cloud thought about it; he didn't usually dwell on it when he was in his grunt uniform, but he could certainly see why women fawned over Zack wherever the guy went. Cloud wanted to be like that one day, a SOLDIER that everyone aspired to be, the guy everyone bought drinks for at topside bars, the man with the option of a new girl in his bed every night.

This particular situation was a little bizarre if he really thought on it, but when in his grunt uniform he pretended like the little box in his hands didn't exist. Didn't need to. He was everything he needed to be, and he'd get stronger over time. He was still technically a kid—fifteen for little over a month. Despite the fact that he had sneaked into the program when he was fourteen, two years shy of legality, no one asked. There was a need for grunts and Cloud had the talent. He worked hard and studied until he could feel math equations and ancient languages fog the memory of his little hick village up in the mountains, covered in impenetrable fog.

Ma would have flipped her nut if she knew what he did in his spare time. Not that it really mattered in the end, though. What she didn't know couldn't hurt her.

Zack ran his fingers over the door frame, his thumb kneading against the wood. "I'm gunna guess you need more time. Want me to get you anything?"

Cloud licked his dry lips and scratched his nose with his thumb. "Nah, I'm fine," he said with little enthusiasm. He gave a half smile when Zack shrugged his shoulder, a tic Cloud picked up on. The SOLDIER was excited and a little nervous; in fact, if he was honest with himself, he felt that same nervousness. "Just make sure to grab your shoes."

"What's with you and those damn shoes?" Zack muttered half under his breath as he pushed off against the door frame, stepping from side to side in anticipation. When he inched closer Cloud could see Zack's tie was half finished and there was a crease in his left pant leg, and he could have sworn he could see a flash of a pinky toe through one of his socks. "But yeah, yeah. Let me get them."

The blonde nodded his head and with fingers that wanted to tremble (he would not dare, not when a SOLDIER was in the room and he was still in his grunt gear) pulled the top of the box off, sliding his hands into the comforting fire of passion. Closing his eyes, allowing the feeling of the silk to slide against the rough callouses on his fingertips, the boy could have orgasmed without a single touch. This was why it was hidden in the back, among the towers of shoes. This power was something that he could only allow consume him on occasion, or he would lose himself to the beauty and sensuality.

It took him an hour, a reasonable amount of time. Most would take far longer, but Cloud knew every inch of his body, every inch of silk and hosiery. The feel of the mascara wand against his eyelashes, the pressure of lipstick more red and lively than his blood—this kept him going. Just once a month, maybe once every two weeks, Cloud could let this beast out, let this hellion reign free. Everything from the carefully placed curls in his hair to the lining of his black thong made Cloud want to fuck something, particularly Zack Fair.

This was Cloud's little secret, hidden so well.

Lacing up his high heels, Cloud made an adjustment to the bow before biting the inside of his cheek, looking at himself on the bed with a scrutinizing glance. He wasn't perfect in any way, and certainly not womanly enough for most men—he didn't have the delicate arms and dainty wrists, the curve of a woman's hip or the strength of a woman's calf. In fact, he looked like a teenage boy in a dress—a very good-looking teenage boy in a dress, but in no way female. This wasn't about being in any way female; this was about feeling, about his love for pretty things that made him feel good, made him feel powerful, made him feel sexual.

How wearing a dress made a man feel more powerful, Cloud couldn't explain. It was something about knowing his sexuality was in his hands, that he had the power to be what he wanted and get what he wanted. He knew he wasn't gay, perse, and he knew he wasn't exactly straight, but he was a soldier, and he wanted to fight. That was part of him, as well as the black silk dress he hid from everyone but Zack. They were the same person, Cloud could admit, but if the Head of his department found out what he did for recreation... there would be problems.

Not only with the fact that he was a subordinate to Zack Fair and it could be seen as a way of raising himself through the ranks (there was absolutely nothing in the deal about that, Cloud knew. Zack just liked the feel of being with another man once in a while.) but there was always a risk of Zack potentially killing him. Sex with SOLDIERs was rough and passionate, more than simple rutting. The stigma of homosexuality was still a minor burden; most people in the Shinra military pretended that their SOLDIERs were just killing machines with no personality or sexuality of their own. Most of the men were straight, Cloud guessed, but sometimes it was hard being with a woman. SOLDIERs had enhanced bodies and enhanced senses, fingers that could snap a woman's arm with a twitch.

Touching his bony hips, Cloud could almost feel the bruises that would be there by the end of the night. He could handle it with ease—a potion would get rid of the sting, and his mind took the stimulation well. He had the body of a man, a body that was genetically created to withstand more pressure. And, as he was well aware, a little pain was worth the pleasure. This was a game they had played before, cat and mouse.

Which one was which?

Cloud strutted out, a sensuous smile spreading across his painted lips. He could smell the sandalwood incense burning somewhere in the room and it reminded him so distinctly of Zack that when he could finally see the man Cloud had to resist the urge to grab him roughly by the tie, toss him down on the glass and fine china set up for a nice meal, and experience euphoric kisses and mind-blowing sex. It was such a temptation, and it took him a few moments to regain his strength; this wasn't something that could be done without finesse. Even if it was just pointless lust.

Oh, he knew where Zack's priorities lay—a really pretty woman below the plate was his main girl, but he was also having casual flings with the secretary in the main lobby and one of the professors at the SOLDIER Academy. It wasn't really Cloud's business to know, since this was something so very impersonal. He just enjoyed what he had, when he had it. Tomorrow wasn't of consequence. Country-bumpkin or not, Cloud knew the way the system worked; casual sex did not make committed partnerships, and that despite the willingness for society to accept sexuality in a different light, Cloud Strife was still going to marry a woman and have children. Right now, in his tight little number and with his girlie panties rubbing against his cock, all that mattered was this night, this moment.

Zack stood immediately when he saw Cloud, a smile curving his upper lip so slight. The shine in his liquid purple eyes danced with passion, and that was what meant more than a smile. Cloud knew he looked perfect, and Zack knew it, too.

"You look lovely," Zack said, stepping forward to take Cloud's hand in his own. The blonde allowed him to be lead to the table, to be sat down in his chair.

It was a quiet meal. Zack ate heartily, and Cloud ate probably more than he preferred to when he had nightly plans. The food was just too good for Cloud to drop his fork down after the first few bites.

"You're getting better at cooking," Cloud commented at last, licking the last remnants of mashed potatoes from his fork.

Zack winked. "Of course I am. How am I supposed to keep you sated?"

Placing his fork down, Cloud scooted out of his chair. The clank of his shoe's heel against the floor gave him comfort and pace—one, two, three, repeat one, two, three, breathe one, two, three.

"There are other ways," he all but purred, finally reaching Zack and grabbing him by his tie. Exerting just enough pressure, Cloud yanked hard enough to hurt a little. This was not going to be gentle. "Follow me."

Zack followed, putting no true strength into his movements. He allowed himself to be pulled into the bedroom, Cloud forcing him to the foot of the bed before pushing Zack back down to the bed. The bed creaked with the weight, a sound the two were accustomed to during their long hours of enjoyment.

"Lay back," Cloud told him, "And put your hands above your head. Grab the headboard."

The Sergeant did as he was told, a wicked smile crossing his face. Cloud quickly gathered snapped the lacings off his shoes and used them to tie one of Zack's hands to the wooden post, telling the man to "hold on with the other one," though he wondered for how long it would last. With the readiness of a well-oiled fucking machine, Cloud allowed his body to drag languidly on the other man's, breathing across his face, letting his own sticky breath swelter against the fabric of Zack's shirt to his pants. He could feel the man's cock against his nose when he buried his head down, licking at the fabric. "I can taste you," he muttered.

"Goddess, Cloud," Zack all but begged, his hands banging to the wood in a symphony of lust and desire, "let me fuck you. Please."

With a split second thought, Cloud unzipped Zack and pulled him out, the warm, thick cock in his hand ready for whatever Cloud wanted. Turning to face away from Zack, he quickly put his knees to the man's hips, hiked up his dress and rubbed his panties against Zack. He turned his head, glancing to see Zack's reaction to his ministrations. "Do you want more," he gutturally questioned, and from the look of panicked desire stemming from Zack's face, his little toy certainly did.

He rutted against Zack's cock, slick with precum, once more before yanking hard at his lacy undergarments, throwing them across the room. His ass was ready for Zack, already oiled and slick, but before allowing himself to sit, Cloud rubbed the head of his penis down to his sacs, before slipping three fingers inside of him without so much as a whimper of pain. Muted pleasure compared to the oncoming storm, but still enough to make Zack pant and moan like a whore below him. He was a needy and greedy man, but Cloud couldn't complain; only he could do this.

This was his, his little box tucked away in Zack Fair's closet.

Cloud steadied his body as he lowered himself onto Zack's waiting cock, leaning backward to look at Zack's face as he pushed himself back and forth, removing his knees from their place at the SOLDIER's hips. He let his heels dig into Zack's dress-shoes, using them as convenient, if not painful, stirrups. The man below him was so much stronger than he was, could break his throat with a graze, and yet Cloud had him below him, completely at his mercy. If he wanted, Cloud could very well break Zack's nose and the guy wouldn't even fight back.

Was it really his power, or was it his black-haired fuck toy's?

"Put your hand on me."

The man did as he was told, reaching forward with his unbound hand to take grasp of Cloud's erection, pumping it as hard as his hands could manage, hoping to make Cloud speed up their own timing. Cloud liked pumping up and down Zack's length to be in itself a little game: how slowly could he go before Zack would try to break free of his little entrapment to grab Cloud's waist and fuck him without mercy, without qualm?

It hadn't yet occurred, but maybe, just once, Cloud would allow the man the dignity of control over when he came.

Then again, that would spoil his own amusement.

And as Cloud knew, ever since he put on the little black cocktail dress nearly a year ago, only he ran this show. Everything done was done specifically for him, done his way. Every movement, every groan, every little bead of sweat Cloud would lick from Zack's body before their second, and then third, and then fourth round of sex, was his to control. They would not exist without his ass, without his dress, without his lipstick smearing across Zack's sweaty jawline.

"Come for me," he commanded, and Zack's hands pulled at the hard arc of his cock, still begging for a pace that wouldn't make his body feel as if it was on fire—despite Cloud never having felt the emotion of having to come on command, he knew its effect on his strong, good SOLDIER. Looking back up, breathing hard against Zack's cheek, feeling the man's wet hair slide against his makeuped face, he could see himself staring back through Zack's hazy purple eyes.

When he felt Zack spurt inside him like the good boy he was, Cloud knew that one day these meetings would be gone, and only their memory would lay stark in his mind, never hemorrhaging.

Cloud grabbed himself through fistfuls of his dress, putting his hand over Zack's. He came hard, feeling the fire inside his belly explode into silk.

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