A long overdue request of one Clouffie, featuring Tseng and Zack in my own special twist. Here's to you, sweetheart, and thank you for being patient!


Zack Fair knew that he was a sexy hunk of man meat (his own words). He had plenty of women to fawn over him, and a few men, too. He enjoyed their attentions whenever he had the time and the inclination. When he willed it, his bed never went empty.

He was also fairly used to waking up in the morning and not knowing who was in bed beside him. It happened. As long as he was in his own room, he didn't worry much. There were guards that would stop him bringing anyone dangerous into his room; they'd done it on several occasions.

Thus, when he woke up- feeling a little hungover, but not about to die- to see a strong, tanned back and shoulders hunched over at the edge of bed, he didn't panic. It was his room, after all- that was one of his lava lamps quietly glowing and glooping over on the dresser.

He smiled and reached out to run his fingers over the fine line of his partner's spine. There was muscle lying under the beautiful skin, too much for the kind of woman Zack liked. A man, then.

"Morning," he said drowsily.

"Don't touch me," his bedmate whispered.

Zack frowned. He knew he'd been drunk, but it couldn't have been that bad.

"Why not?" he asked, sitting up and draping himself over the man's shoulders. His hair was so thick and dark and straight…he could just bury his face in it. So he did.

"Just….don't."

"Aww, c'mon. I know we were both totally sloshed last night, but it can't have been that bad."

The body he was leaning on shuddered.

"Get off me."

Now that he was waking up, that voice sounded awfully familiar to Zack. He just couldn't quite place it.

"Why?"

"Please."

He slid off. His partner staggered across the room to the bathroom. In doing so, Zack noted two things: one, that the guy was really, truly, absolutely gorgeous naked; two, that it was Tseng.

Tseng vanished into the bathroom. A minute or two later, the sound of him throwing up floated out to Zack's ears. Zack lay across the bed, trying to figure out what he'd done to get Tseng in bed. He hadn't even known he liked men. Did he like men?

The sound of vomiting was interspersed with soft cursing and a few uncomfortable noises.

"Tseng?" Zack ventured.

"Fuck off," the Turk hissed.

Zack balked. Tseng didn't curse. Ever.

"Come back out here when you can."

Tseng leaned around the doorframe. He was ashen under his natural tan, and looked terrible.

"Tell me why I should," he spat.

"Because I think I know more about curing a hangover than you do."

"I don't need your help."

"You sure?"

Tseng ducked back into the bathroom instead of responding. Zack flinched. He wondered just how much Tseng had drunk, or if he was really that much of a lightweight.

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Zack waited patiently on the bed, listening to Tseng throw up, for a good fifteen minutes before he got up and went to lean in the door.

"Either you drank a hell of a lot more than I did last night, or you've got stomach flu," he commented.

"Thank you for the input," Tseng growled. He had the same gift Sephiroth did: no matter how bad he felt or how weak he probably was at the moment, he could still make it sound as if he was two seconds away from killing you in as messy a way as possible.

Ignoring the unspoken threat, Zack stepped into the bathroom and stood beside Tseng. When the tall man straightened up for a moment, he felt his forehead.

"You're warm."

"It happens."

"Tseng, you're running a fever, which means you're sick on top of being hungover, and you should be in bed."

Tseng shook his head.

"I get hot when I'm hungover," he rasped. "Ask Reno. It's usually his fault." He paused, then sighed. "No, don't ask him."

"Why not?"

He sighed.

"He went home sick halfway through yesterday morning."

Zack nodded and bent to help Tseng to his feet.

"Then you're sick too. C'mon, bed."

Tseng shook Zack's hands off.

"Even if I am- and I'm not- sick, I don't need your help. I can handle myself."

"You're just sore about waking up in bed with me," Zack said shortly. "Fine. Let me make it up to you by letting you use my bed for awhile."

"I'm not sick!"

"Then you're hungover, and I can help with that. Either way, I make it up to you, provided you actually let me."

Tseng started to protest, then sighed.

"Fine. Let me clean up first."

"You want to borrow pajamas or something? I don't see your clothes anywhere."

"I prefer to sleep in the nude," Tseng said flatly, wetting his hands in the sink and running his fingers through his hair. "Don't bother."

Momentarily speechless, Zack dug up a pair of sweats for himself and shuffled into the apartment's tiny kitchen.

-------------------------------------------

When he returned, Tseng had gotten into the bed, where he was lying on his side propped up by every pillow Zack owned, methodically rubbing tired circles on his temples.

"Headache?" Zack asked.

"Yes. If you're going to try anything outlandish, you can stop right now."

"Outlandish?"

"Reno swears by a very spicy soup they make in Costa del Sol. It's absolutely vile."

"What, pancita?"

Tseng hiccupped.

"That," he said carefully. "Yes. Please don't talk about it."

Zack shrugged.

"Whatever. I swear this isn't as bad as that. No spices at all." He held up a plastic bottle shaped like a bear and grinned at the expression on Tseng's face.

"Honey?"

"It's a little early for pet names, isn't it?"

"Don't you start with me."

"Seriously, though, honey helps. A couple of spoonfuls should do the trick."

Tseng snorted.

"That sounded good until you said it 'should'."

"The only guaranteed cure for a hangover is death. It works different for all of us. Trust me, what I use doesn't help Seph much, but Angeal taught it to me and he swears by it." He offered Tseng a spoonful of honey. "Open up."

"Do I want to know what you're going to do to me if this doesn't work?"

"First, I'm going to tell you that you're probably sick, then I'll try something else Angeal taught me."

"Which is?"

"Not telling. Oh, here, in case you need it." He put the spoon in Tseng's hand and fetched the trashcan from the bathroom. "Go on, eat it."

Tseng hesitated, then did as he was told, licking the spoon clean. He swallowed carefully, feeling the honey slide down his throat.

Zack coaxed him into taking another three spoonfuls, then took both bottle and spoon away, leaving Tseng to close his eyes and wish he was anywhere else.

"Y'know, I still don't get how you're so hungover," Zack commented.

"Two reasons," Tseng muttered, opening his eyes again.

"Which are?"

"First, it's genetic. I am genetically predisposed to have lower levels of alcohol dehydrogenase in my body than you. Since it breaks down alcohol and helps prevent hangovers, it's expected that I will be worse off than you." He pressed the heel of one hand into his eye and sighed. "Second, I was drinking mainly whiskey. You were taking shots of vodka, among other things. Darker drinks tend to be harder on the body."

"You actually remember these things?"

"Amazing what the brain dredges up at random intervals, isn't it?"

Zack grinned and patted Tseng's shoulder.

"Just lie there for awhile and wait for the honey to work. I'm gonna shower."

"Good for you."

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When Zack got out of the shower, Tseng had pulled a pillow over his head and wasn't moving.

"Tseng?"

"Didn't work."

Zack peered into the trashcan. No, it hadn't.

"I see that."

Tseng groaned.

"If Reno's sick, you know it's likely that he gave whatever he has to you, too. I think you should let me treat you for that, not for a hangover."

"I'm not sick!"

"I think you are."

"Yes, I know. Trust me, Zack, I know what my hangovers are like. This is fairly typical."

"You usually wake up in bed with a SOLDIER First Class?"

"No, that was new."

"I didn't know you were gay."

"I know."

"So you are?"

"Gay? Yes. Very."

Zack considered this. Okay. Not what he'd expected, but not bad news at all. Maybe he could coax Tseng into playing a bit when he felt better.

"Okay. Next try."

"Which is?"

"Hot and sour soup."

"What?"

"Hot and sour soup. From a packet, since I can't make it from scratch to save my life."

"You and Angeal are sick," Tseng hissed, lifting his pillow long enough to fix Zack with a murderous glare.

"It really does work on hangovers. I'm still sticking by my diagnosis of some kind of stomach flu, though, in which case it won't work. Gonna give up?"

Tseng hesitated, then sighed.

"I'll try the soup."

"Great. Wanna come into the kitchen while I make it? Moving around a little might help, and you should drink some water."

"I'll be there," Tseng said, waving Zack off. "Don't wait for me."

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Zack had water on the stove and was nursing a cup of coffee when Tseng shuffled in, wearing a pair of pajama pants that certainly weren't his. He didn't have anything with paw prints printed on it in his wardrobe, for one, and the pants were in serious danger of falling off his narrow hips. He moved past Zack to lean heavily on the kitchen counter.

"I pity the women you bring home," he muttered, accepting the glass of water Zack offered him.

"Hmm?"

Tseng gave him a jaundiced look.

"It hurts to walk."

Zack blushed.

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't be. Aside from that, it was a good night. I simply can't imagine how your ladies react to being handled so….roughly."

"I only do that when they ask. Girls are breakable."

"And I'm not?"

"You're six one and can hold your own in a gym full of SOLDIERs."

"Tactful you are not," Tseng sniffed, sipping the water. "You don't remember a thing, do you?"

Zack shook his head.

"It's better that way, really. Both you and I are in positions where we can get away with many things, but I doubt sleeping with each other is on the list of things we can get away with."

"But-"

Tseng scowled.

"Did you think that I'd take pity on your lack of memory and let you take me again, just so you could remember what last night was like?"

Zack opened his mouth, then closed it again. Tseng gave him a pointed look. Apparently, there had been enough alcohol in his system to make him think that sleeping with a SOLDIER was a good idea the night before. He wasn't going to make that mistake again. It stung a little, but Zack shook it off and turned to the kettle as it started to boil.

"Soup's almost ready," he said.

"Goody."

He quietly poured hot water into the mug he had waiting. He stirred the mixture for a minute, then added a couple of ice cubes to cool it and offered the whole thing to Tseng.

"There ya go. Drink up."

Tseng hesitated, looking at the soup in the bright green frog mug. The color contrast was…interesting. He put his water down and took it.

"It's best hot."

"I'm sure it is."

"Go on."

Tseng braced himself and brought the mug to his lips. He gulped down two mouthfuls of the hot brew before he put it down on the counter.

"That is absolutely vile," he breathed.

"But it works, doesn't it?"

He considered it. Was it working? An irritable grumble and twist from his stomach told him that no, it wasn't working. He went to stand at the sink, arms braced on the edge, and breathed carefully.

"No, it doesn't."

Zack watched him carefully.

"Gonna barf again?"

Tseng nodded.

"I really think you're sick, Tseng. I mean…I've seen hangovers, and this doesn't really look like one."

Tseng ignored this in favor of swallowing hard and focusing on keeping the soup in his stomach. It worked for a minute or two, before the soup decided that it wanted to vacate the premises now, thank you, and nothing Tseng did was going to stop it.

Zack politely pulled Tseng's hair back and waited while he retched into the sink.

"You're going to bed as soon as you quit puking."

Tseng agreed. Bed sounded good.

-----------------------------------

After making sure Tseng wasn't going anywhere, Zack retreated to the living room and dialed Reno's number.

"'lo?"

Zack flinched. Reno's voice had been reduced to a rough whisper.

"Reno? It's Zack."

"Whatcha want?"

"Heard you were sick and wanted to know what you've got."

"Strep. Why?"

"Oh. Well, that's not it."

"I asked why you wanna know, yo."

"I've….kinda got Tseng over here, and he says he's just hungover, but he's running a fever and I've never seen anyone with a hangover get this sick before."

Reno sighed heavily, a crackle of static in Zack's ear.

"What's he doin' at your place after a night of binge drinkin'?"

"Um…"

"You fucked him, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"Great. Okay. Easy way to see if he's sick is to check right along his jaw, y'know, the lymph nodes right under there. He always swells up and gets tender when he's sick, and y' won't see that if it's a hangover."

"Seriously?"

"I've worked with him since I got here, and I've had to drag his sorry ass home because of more bugs than I wanna think about it. You have to be able to tell, or he can slap you with trouble for disobeying orders. He gave me mono two years ago- moron just couldn't stay home and suffer like anyone else."

"That was Tseng?"

Reno laughed haltingly.

"He sleeps around a bit, and when you're close enough to him, you're really close. It's just the way he is, yo. I think he's got abandonment issues or something and he thinks getting' physical will help keep people from leaving him."

"Oh. I….jeez."

"Didn't know what you'd got into, huh?"

Zack fidgeted uncomfortably. It sounded like he'd just jumped into a pit of quicksand that he'd thought was a cute little sandbox. He knew that Turks were a strange bunch and tended to have all kinds of quirks, but something like this…not what he'd thought.

"No. Reno, are you and Tseng….."

"Friends with benefits, yo, and nothin' more. I like my ladies too much to give them up, even for someone as hot as he is. He's all yours, if he wants you."

"Don't you mean if I want him?"

"If Tseng doesn't want you, then you could rearrange the stars for him and he'd still turn you down. And if he wants you and you don't want him…tough luck. He'll have you anyway."

"I don't think he wants me."

"Wait until he's not barfing. It always makes him cranky and kinda irrational."

"Any other words of wisdom?" Zack sighed. Drunken romps weren't supposed to wind up like this. Not at all. Morning after regrets? Sure. Hangovers? Yeah, fine. Probably sick and definitely hungover Turks with serious issues? No.

Reno considered it. Zack could hear him shifting around, and guessed that he was lying down somewhere, probably in bed.

"Well, we both run hot, so between that and his hangover, don't call it a fever until it's over 101. Once his stomach settles, assuming he doesn't hate you, he might appreciate some cuddling. Don't talk much, just let him use you for a body pillow. If you're going to try and feed him anything……he'll respond well to a cup of tea or something simple. Even mention spices and there goes any progress you might have made. Trust me, the fastest way to get him out of my apartment after a long night is to mention-"

"Pancita?"

"Yeah. How'd you- you mentioned it, didn't you?"

"He started it, actually, but yeah, and I made him hot and sour soup for the hangover."

"I bet he was happy about that," Reno snorted.

"Barfed it up a minute later."

"Eeww. Just how sick has he been, anyway?"

"He's been up for….about an hour and a half, more or less, and he's thrown up four separate times. I know he's got a headache, and, like I said, he's hot."

"Sounds like a virus to me. Hang on, got an idea. I'll call back."

He hung up, leaving Zack to shove the phone into his pocket and start aimlessly wandering. After a minute, he crept back over and peeked in at Tseng. The Turk was lying still and silent on the bed, all the blankets kicked away to the bottom of the bed. He was asleep, at least for the moment. Reassured by this, Zack tiptoed closer and bent over the edge of the bed, reaching out to brush Tseng's hair off of his neck. Tseng shifted in his sleep, moving towards Zack's hand. He froze, then relaxed when all Tseng did was sigh.

Tseng really was awfully pretty. There weren't enough people from Wutai in ShinRa, for obvious reasons, but they were such a beautiful race that it was a real shame.

Zack knelt and just stayed there for a few minutes, petting Tseng's hair and neck, watching him. He could get used to this. Tseng had something that others he'd slept with didn't…he wasn't really sure what it was, but he liked it.

His phone went off in an explosion of screaming guitar and screaming lyrics. Zack grabbed it and bolted from the room, praying it hadn't woken Tseng.

"Hello?"

"I can tell you what he's got and where he got it, yo."

"Really?"

"Yep. Turns out ShinRa Junior's down with a bug too. And guess what bug?"

"The one Tseng has?"

"Mmhm. According to the Turk on duty, 's a 48-hour stomach thing. Fever, headache, nausea, and a lot of barfing up whatever he doesn't have to barf up. Tseng was his escort day before yesterday, probably got it from him then."

"He and Tseng don't…do they?"

"Tseng says he's not a cradle robber, so no. Anyway, you can either dump him at his apartment and leave him to fend for himself, or you can keep him and play nurse 'til Monday."

Zack thought about it for a moment, picturing the long, rather sweaty body on his bed and the dark hair splayed out on a pillow.

"I'll keep him."

"Congratulations, Mr. Fair, you are now the proud owner of one fluey Senior Turk. Have fun, yo."

"Thanks."

"And good luck- you'll need it. Later."

Zack smiled and hung up. He heard a soft groan and the sound of the bathroom door closing again, and padded into the bedroom.

"Tseng?"

"What now?"

"Can I come in?"

"It's your apartment."

Zack pushed the bathroom door open.

"Reno called. Whatever you have, Rufus Shinra has too."

Tseng groaned.

"48 hour virus. You're stuck with me for the weekend."

"That's not necessary. I can just go home and…hllp!"

Zack perched on the edge of the bathtub and patted Tseng's shoulder.

"C'mon, it's not that hard to just let me help out, is it? I mean, I had something to do with your hangover, which probably isn't helping with this much, and I did force you to try the soup, which didn't- hey, careful, I don't want you braining yourself on the rim of that, it'd be hell to explain down at the Clinic. Just let me, okay? I swear I won't try any more weird cures on you, 'cept maybe homemade chicken soup."

"No peas in that," Tseng croaked. "I'm allergic."

"So you'll stay?"

"What choice do I have?"

Zack grinned and dug his fingers into Tseng's hair, pulling it back and out of his way. Holding it back with one hand, he reached down and felt under Tseng's jaw, just to check. Sure enough, Tseng flinched as soon as Zack's fingers hit the faintly swollen nodes. Reno had been right.

"You could have decided to make it hell for me."

"I could have."

"Ready to go back to bed?"

"Not before I rinse my mouth out. Ugh, and I thought that soup was bad the first time."

"I've got a spare toothbrush. Want?"

"I…yes. Please."

Zack got up and rummaged in the vanity until he found the toothbrush. Tseng got up carefully and joined him at the sink, leaning into him after he accepted the brush.

"Reno's got strep, by the way, so you won't be seeing him for a bit," Zack continued while Tseng brushed his teeth. "I think he said feel better, but it's hard to tell with him."

"It's always hard to tell with Reno," Tseng agreed. "Help me get back to the bed. I don't think my legs want to listen to me."

They made their way back to the bed, Zack being careful to keep his hands to himself. He let Tseng down at the edge of the bed and waited while the Turk settled down. Tseng said nothing, so Zack turned to go. No cuddling unless Tseng wanted it- he was too dangerous, even sick.

"And where do you think you're going?" Tseng asked, his voice falling into the commanding tone Zack had heard him use on Reno a few times.

"Um…back to the living room?"

"To do what?"

"No idea. Probably see what's on in the way of cartoons. Y'know, mindless entertainment. Why?"

"If you're going to be physical and cuddly, you could at least be consistent. Or are you only that way when your victim is apparently asleep?"

Zack blushed deeply. So Tseng really had woken up while he was petting him.

"Er…"

"You wanted to help, didn't you? You can start by getting back over here and doing your best impression of a pillow."

He had never gotten into bed faster. Tseng made a small, approving noise and draped himself over Zack's side and hip, hiding his face in the curve of Zack's neck. Zack mumbled, shifted to get Tseng's ankle out of the back of his knee, and relaxed. On top of him, Tseng murmured and pawed sleepily at the back of his shoulder.

"You," Zack declared, "are a big ol' house cat, aren't you?"

"Not so much house cat as feral cat, but whatever feline comparison suits you," Tseng yawned. "I suggest you pick something a little more dangerous."

Zack considered a few big cats that he'd seen in person, pulling his arm out from under Tseng's chest.

"I think…a leopard. Ever seen one?"

"Once or twice, when I was a child. Have you?"

"Uh-huh. Three regular ones, a black, and a snowy."

"You are lucky in that- snowy leopards are exceedingly rare."

"I know. I probably would have been a lot more impressed at the time if it hadn't had its teeth in my chocobo's neck. I had to hike all the way back to base. Took four freakin' days."

Tseng laughed softly, the sound transferring into motion along the length of Zack's body. It felt kind of odd, and was made odder by the simple fact that Tseng was the source of it. Tseng, who typically embodied the idea of normal.

"So tell me," Tseng mumbled, voice nearly inaudible from being muffled in Zack's neck. "Why did you choose a leopard?"

"Well……you're pretty adaptable, and, c'mon, how many guys do we have in ShinRa that look anything like you? You hardly ever get personal with anyone unless you're sleeping or arguing with them, everyone stares at you because of how you move, you're deadly, and apparently you can sleep in any position, 'cuz I can't imagine how lying on me like that is comfortable."

Tseng let his hand slide down Zack's chest and slip between Zack's arm and his side, getting Zack in a one-armed hug sort of position.

"Good answer."

"Thanks."

"Are you done being somewhat poetic? Can I sleep now?"

Zack grinned and reached up to pat Tseng's hip.

"Yeah, go ahead. And feel better, 'kay?"

"Mmhm."

Zack lay still for awhile, listening to Tseng's breathing even out and slow down to a peaceful, barely-there rhythm. Once he was sure Tseng was well and truly asleep, he started to move, being very careful and making each movement slow and calculated. When he was finished, he was flat on his back, massaging his right arm, which was sound asleep, and Tseng was lying on his stomach instead of his side, still nuzzling Zack's neck and still out cold. Feeling very accomplished, Zack put his arms across Tseng's back and fell asleep.

---------------------------------------------

This became Tseng's sleeping position of choice for that day and the next. Secretly, he enjoyed sharing a bed with someone so much bigger than he was- Zack made an excellent mattress, and there was no danger of flattening him.

-----------------------------------------

The original plan was simple: take care of Tseng for the weekend, hopefully endear self to him and therefore gain access to that sinfully gorgeous body again, and enjoy hot, sweaty, utterly animalistic nights whenever they both had the chance.

---------------------------------------------

This plan was promptly spoiled by Zack himself, who was suddenly and violently ill during drills on Tuesday afternoon. Having heard- through Reno, who loved a juicy bit of gossip and rather hoped that passing the gossip along to a certain massive SOLDIER First Class would get him in the good graces of said very straight SOLDIER- about the weekend Zack had spent playing nurse, Angeal scooped up his miserably sick puppy and carried him up to the Turk's offices, where he dumped him on Tseng's desk.

Zack moaned, rolled onto his side, and retched into Tseng's garbage can.

"This," Angeal said, poking Zack's calf, "is your fault. Fix it."

"I-"

"I know it was you."

"B-"

"You were assigned to Rufus right before he got sick. And Zack hasn't been anywhere near him."

"You-"

"Yes, I can. And yes, I am. He's all yours. I want him back in one piece, please, preferably still breathing."

Tseng sputtered indignantly. On the desk, Zack curled up in Tseng's general direction, reaching for him and making pathetic noises.

"Call it revenge for subjecting me to your horrible hangover remedies," Tseng finally shot back. "He's your student. You deal with him."

"Tseeeenggg," Zack whined.

"He just threw up in the middle of drills. Sephiroth is hysterical. I have to go do damage control, so I can't take him."

"Angeeeaaalll."

"I have work to do."

"So do I. And I didn't get him sick. You do realize that, by giving one of the most friendly and physical SOLDIERs in the program this bug, you've probably spread it to the entire program, don't you? The least you can do is take care of him."

"I hardly think that-"

"Or I could just get you volunteered for duty at the Clinic."

Tseng scowled, first at Angeal and his smug look, then at Zack and his still reaching arms. Then he sighed, and put one hand where Zack could grab and cling to it.

"Fine."

Angeal grinned.

"Congratulations. You are now the temporary owner of a sick puppy."

Tseng grunted, ignoring Angeal in favor of trying to free his hand from Zack's unfairly strong grip. Angeal left, off to listen to Sephiroth rant about keeping his puppy far, far away from favorite leather gloves and jackets, particularly when he was feeling unwell.

"I'm sorry," Zack mumbled, using the hand he'd captured to pull Tseng closer. "I didn't mean to."

"I'm sure," Tseng muttered. "Let go of me. I need to let someone know that I'm leaving."

"Huh?"

"As appealing as the idea of just putting you in a corner of the office to sleep this off may be, I supposed you deserve as well as I got. We'll be leaving in a minute."

Zack smiled.

"Knew you'd come around," he said.

Tseng snorted.

"You're imagining things."

"Whatever you say."