Title: Learning
Author: JC Sun

Category: R. Sephiroth x Zack x Cloud yaoi.
Summary: Cloud gits him some larnin' that you just can't get from books.

Lots and lots of gooshy moosh here, people, with nary a drop of true angst in sight.

Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were mine, neither Zack nor Sephiroth would've died, and the two of them and Cloud would be living in a mountain chalet and doing things to each other that Dr. Laura would *not* approve of.

*

You learn lots things during training for SOLDIER.

You learn the five types of materia, master the formalities of spell casting, memorize the SOLDIER hierarchy, and begin to study for your promotion exams . . .

You've learned that while there aren't many that can touch you in sword fighting, you really suck at hand-to-hand combat. Really, really suck.

Therefore, you've had plenty of occasion to learn that certain judo throws *really*, *really* hurt.

You've learned that the food, as a general rule, is edible and nutritious. That's the best that can be said of it at any given time, and the weekend leaves are supposed to be when you go out into the city and "experience life" as your classmates put it. They come back with stories about drinking and wild sex and wilder parties, but you grin and go back to work.

It's not as if you don't like your classmates, but you've learned that it's best to stay in your room on weekends. It's about the only time that you can get some studying done because Zack, your roommate, leaves on Friday evening and comes back dead-tired late Sunday night . . . You've learned just how hard it is to study with a roommate like Zack around.

You've also learned that it's really, really miserable to have a desperate crush on your roommate and know with cold certainty that he's completely not interested in you.

One time, you came back early from your afternoon workout session -- an extra period assigned by the drill instructor as punishment for messing up in hand to hand so badly. In all reality, it hadn't been much of a punishment since the instructor had spent the time making you go through the routine until you finally started developing a sense of the thing. Stand, drop, roll up to a stand, turn, right jab, left jab, left jab, turn . . . You were positive you'd be able to do it for tomorrow's class, and on the way back to your dorm from the practice rooms, you'd practiced the high-low punching sequence with your shadow . . . you'd walked back to your room, looking forward to a shower and some peace and quiet before Zack got back class . . .

And so, you'd put your hand on the doorknob fully preparing to go in and get you well-deserved shower when through the wood came the undeniable sounds of Zack getting very thoroughly laid. Soft, damp little moans with another a deeper voice growling indeterminately, and almost a mewling that makes ever hair on the back of your neck stand up. Sharp creaks of the bed, with an undertone of that growl terminating abruptly as Zack started desperate little moans that grew closer and closer together and you could practically imagine him on the bed, writhing naked under--

As you stood in the hallway, you don’t have to look down to realize that your shorts are entirely too tight.

When you came back, you found Zack alone, sprawled on the bed, damp from *his* shower, and wearing nothing but a sunny smile and the magazine he's leafing through. With complete unconcern, he asks you how things went as a small droplet of water slips down the inside of his thigh . . .

In retrospect, the entire incident really quite funny, but at the time, you were panicking so badly that humor was entirely the farthest thing for your mind. You’d discovered cold showers only work sometimes-shifting-towards-the-never after, in a sudden flash of insight, you realize that not five minutes ago, that slim, hard body outside was pressed to the same tiles that your body is braced against.

You've learned to dread going to sleep at night only because you never know what you're going to let slip in your dreams.

You wake up at night and an ache between your legs, and you spend small eternities lying in your bed, frozen, listening to Zack breathe in the bed across the room, wondering whether if you sneak into the bathroom where you can pass it off or . . . or if you could manage to keep quiet here and take care of it listening to Zack's soft breathing . . .

One Friday afternoon, as you're sitting at your desk, ostensibly studying and in reality, trying to ignore the fact that Zack's undressing less than three feet away from your back. And suddenly, Zack says, "You ever go clubbing?"

In amazement, you turn around, forgetting that he's half-naked, so you catch an eyeful of Zack's bare stomach -- and a little more. He's in these vinyl-like pants that begin in the middle of his hipbone, and you can't exactly look away.

Zack grins and says, "I'll take that as a no, so, yes, you're coming with me tonight."

"I don't want . . ." Your voice cracks, and you cough, trying to convince your vocal cords to cooperate even though your heart is pounding so heard that it's bruising your ribs and your cheeks are, undoubtedly, the same color as . . . as . . .

Your mind's too overloaded to think exactly what, but you do manage to say, "I don't want to burden you when you're with your friends."

"No, no friends." Zack runs a hand through his hair. "Just you, me and Sephiroth."

You have the feeling that your eyes are going to bug out of your head.

You've learned that you're quite a bit bigger than Zack across the shoulders, more solidly built, so his shirts are a little tight on you, but he refuses to let you wear your clothes to the club, and in particular, insists you wear this one sleeveless ripped shirt. He says it goes well with your eyes, and then asks you to lace him into his pants. Your hands are practically shaking, but Zack seems serenely oblivious and starts humming a dance tune. Thankfully, he doesn't actually start dancing while you're lacing him up; if that'd happened, you'd've had to run for the bathroom, and as it was, you made damn sure to keep something in your lap for the next half hour.

You've also learned how to get into nightclubs and order alcoholic beverages even though you're technically underage: bring Sephiroth. One look at him, and bouncers scurry to comply.

He's a big man, even bigger, tall and broad-shouldered, and he holds himself so straight that you find yourself unconsciously trying to copy his posture.

You've learned that there really *is* a drink called "Sex on the Beach". Sephiroth, on the other hand, likes his liquor straight up with just a little lemon juice and ice. You find yourself staring at him in the nightclub when you think he's not looking -- it amazes you that you're standing next to *him*, that he's coolly advising you what you ought to try your first time drinking, what you shouldn't. Zack calls him "Seph-kun" when he's so beautiful that that he doesn't seem real. He's something from another world with his moon-pale skin, clouds of silver hair, and the way he moves -- he's come down to watch classes that you've been in, but that's nothing like this . . . the elegant way he brings a shot glass to his lips, how he walks like he has no bones in his body and practically drifts across the ground.

You've learned that he smells like almonds. Almonds with a little jasmine and leather, which is strange combination, but it makes your eyes swim and your heart pound none the less. He wears a thin silver chin that's marginally lighter than the color of his skin. It nestles right against his collarbones, and he smiles he sees you watching it -- or them.

You also learn that the tips of his fingers are amazingly soft against your arm.

Another thing: Zack can dance well. And when he's dragged onto the dance floor, so can Sephiroth. They dance well. *Really*, *really* well. Together. Your cheeks hurt form blushing so much, but you can't keep back the sudden flush that rises as you watch them. The girl next to you lets out a wolf-whistle that can be heard above the thumping dance beat, and when the music ends and the applause starts, you concentrate on the depths of your untouched drink.

You learn just what it feels like to have your heart pulsing in your throat when Zack gets up to go to the bathroom and leaves you and Sephiroth sitting in the booth alone. You're sitting there, staring at your drink, not daring to believe you're sitting in a nightclub with the Hero of Junon pass, and then, suddenly, Sephiroth says, in a cool, quiet murmur that you'd hear if he were on the other side of the dance floor, "I hope you don't disapprove of me." You turn bright red and stare at your drink and say something like you could never think badly of him. Then, after a pause, he says, "That's good. Zack's fond of you." and adds a bright smile that leaves absolutely no doubt as just how he feels about you.

You learn that Sephiroth has an apartment in the city.

You learn that when you're standing in the street outside a nightclub at three o'clock in the morning and Zack says words like, "You wanna stay with us tonight?" , one arm around Sephiroth and his eyes resting on you -- when he says that, it can takes on all kinds of meanings, some of them pleasurable, some of them very pleasurable, and a few of them scream-your-head-off-pleasurable, particularly when they involve both Sephiroth and Zack doing things to parts of your body that you never knew existed, let alone could make you feel that way.

You've learned how nice it is to sleep a few hours in arms big enough to hold you.

The rest of the night, you're doing other things in other body parts.

You've learn that their bed really is big enough to fit three people with room to spare.

You've learned ceiling in Sephiroth and Zack's bedroom is stucco, and that the little hollow Sephiroth leaves in bed stays warm for up to an hour.

You've learned that in the morning, Sephiroth wakes up first and takes a quick shower, and that after Zack gets into the bathroom, you better not expect to get in for at least forty-five minutes.

You've learned that Zack makes fun of Sephiroth mercilessly for his "girly-hair". You've also seen that said "girly-hair" does not get tangles in it, no matter what time of the day, no matter what Sephiroth's been doing. It's insane. It's beautiful. You sit there in the morning, arms wrapped around your knees and watch him read the morning newspapers as the pale sun get caught up in it. It's still a little damp from his shower, and when you bring a hand up to touch it, static electricity crackles and a little halo stands up. You could die of embarrassment, but he kisses your fingertips.

You've also learned that even though he never gets tangles in it, Sephiroth likes having his hair brushed. When you do it just right, he makes this deep, almost purring noise in his throat, and he rubs up against you like a giant cat.

You've learned that Sephiroth is surprisingly amenable to sex first thing in the morning, and that that's about the only time you can get him to be on the bottom. When you lay down on the bed with him, you find out that his skin's so smooth that it's almost not real, that he feels a little like glass under silk, except he's so warm . . . When you take him into your mouth, he practically scalds you, and you hesitate for a minute, not quite sure if you know how to do something that you saw for the first time last night, but he murmurs such soothing, gentle things you satisfaction of hearing him sob and moan and writhe underneath you. When he comes, his hands dig into your skull so hard your vision blurs and you cry out in pain, but afterwards, he pulls you up on the bed on top of him, and you lie there, comfortably pressed against him, while he tries to discuss some arcane bit of materia lore with you.

You pointedly ignore him and start sucking on his bottom lip. He's just about given up trying to teach you and has started kissing you back when, at that moment, Zack comes in from the bathroom. You sit up with a jerk, not exactly sure how he's going to react to this, but he goes on brushing his teeth and mutters something about how you're a Johnny-Come-Lately and that Sephiroth is the biggest slut on two legs. Sephiroth props himself up on one elbow and says, in a voice that wouldn't melt butter, that he's not *on* two legs right now.

You've learned that there is absolutely nothing to eat in Sephiroth's apartment and that the water isn't fit to drink. Zack tells you that they eat out most of the time, and the three of you go to the local mall for lunch and 'entertainment', as Zack puts it.

Sephiroth snorts and mutters, "As if you weren't capable of finding your own entertainment."

You've learned that Sephiroth is embarrassingly well acquainted with said mall. As Zack puts it, he knows it almost as well as the bubble-snapping teenyboppers. Sephiroth shoots him a foul look and snarls that *he* hasn't snapped his bubble-gum for three weeks now.

You've also found that Zack is a fiend on the racing simulators at the arcade. He holds the three all-time-highest scores of every car - helicopter - submarine game in the place. With a smirk on his face and in his voice, he challenges you to "Outback Raider". You accept with the proviso that the loser makes dinner tonight, and when you thrash him resoundingly, he stares at first you, then the screen, and finally, his hands in a state of utter shock.

Sephiroth's laughing so hard that you suspect he's crying.

You've learned that two six-foot men and one almost-six-foot man do *not* fit into one of those little instant camera booths -- at least not well. If you want a *clear* picture, be prepared to spend a small fortune in tokens.

You've learned that for some bizarre, convoluted reason that they refuse to tell you, Zack and Sephiroth are banned from the movie theatre. With a smirk, Zack throws an arm around your shoulders and says that if you're a very, very good boy, he'll show you what he was doing to Sephiroth that got them kicked out of the place. With a straight face, you turn around and tell him that if that was an attempt to weasel out of cooking dinner, then he better have something better to offer than *that*.

In the late afternoon, you go grocery shopping and you learn the difference between "virgin olive oil" and "extra virgin olive oil". Zack does this by comparing them to the various levels of sexual experience -- a hand down the pants makes the olive oil not "virgin virgin", but nevertheless, it's kinda virgin but not totally virgin. You have the vague suspicion he has absolutely no idea what he's talking about, and you sneak him a kiss to shut him up behind the tuna display.

You learn, also, the excruciatingly fine differences between different brands of sexual lubricants when the three of you take a detour to the "Miscellaneous" aisle. Zack and Sephiroth stand there conversationally arguing over which kind of lubricant is better, comparing coefficients of friction, viscosity, and flavor in loud, intentionally embarrassing voices. You're blushing so hard you're surprised your ears haven't caught on fire. Eventually, you grab both brands, hurl them into the cart, and before anybody you know sees you -- forgetting, of course, that you're going to have to deal with the lady at the checkout. She gives you funny looks while the bagger shoots you speculative, admiring glances and you turn even redder. On the subway home, both Sephiroth and Zack are laughing so hard as to be incapable of speech.

When you get back to Sephiroth's apartment, Zack grabs you by the arm, then locks Sephiroth out of his own kitchen. Sitting on a stool, slicing mushrooms for dinner, you learn that Sephiroth can't cook worth beans -- it's probably the only thing that he can't do, Zack says with a wink and a nod. Sure, he can slaughter a platoon of dragons by twitching his pinkies twice, but asking Sephiroth to heat up a can of Vienna weenies is like asking for your microwave to explode. Sephiroth hears you through the kitchen walls and snaps that how was he supposed to know that you were supposed to take those damn sausages out of the can first?

You've learned that when it comes to cooking, Zack doesn't believe in recipes or in precise measurements. He just throws in whatever he thinks looks right.

You've also learned that Zack also doesn't believe in cleaning up after himself. When he's done cooking, there are kitchen implements scattered all over. Open jars of condiments on the counters, half-a-stick of butter melting into liquid by the stove, unused eggs on the window sill . . . There is a pile of pots and pans a foot deep in the sink, and you wash them as he sits on the counter, munching on a carrot. You silently vow that you will *not* do the dinner dishes by yourself.

You've learned that Sephiroth can inhale up to a gallon of spaghetti in one sitting and still have room for a mammoth plate of vanilla ice cream with fudge and crushed walnuts, not to mention a few meatballs sneaked in afterwards.

You've also learned that Zack makes the best meatballs-from-scratch on earth. It almost makes up for the nasty, "comes-in-a-can" tomato sauce he gets from the store.

Further, you've found out that Zack's got a ticklish spot on his side, right above where stomach and hip meet, and that it's really useful when you want to hoist him onto the counter and take him to account for passing red-colored toothpaste off as "tomato sauce". He's a pretty big guy, so having Sephiroth help you manhandle him onto the counter is a definite help. Threatening to cover Zack in aforementioned vile sauce if he doesn't shut up also helps, as does kissing him. The problem -- the only problem, really -- with this is that Zack tends to kiss you back so hard that the room starts spinning around, you lose your balance, and eventually, you end up pinned to the kitchen floor, your head in a (backstabbing) Sephiroth's lap as he yanks off your shirt and Zack pulls down your pants, swearing that he'll get his revenge by doing excruciatingly pleasurable things to you until you pass out.

If you call that a problem.

When you wake up in one sore, tangled mass of limbs the next morning, you learn that the fall foliage is spectacular in the country around the city. Sephiroth explains that a weekly trip each Sunday morning to watch it is a bit of a tradition.

Zack quips that it's what they do instead of going to church.

You learn that Sephiroth likes bringing his cloak on these kind of expeditions. He says it comes in handy, but Zack stabs him in the arm with an index finger and growls, "You always *have* to look like a fucking Goth, right?" Sephiroth frowns down at him and says, "Who's the one wearing all black?" Zack grins and points at you, but Sephiroth snorts and says, "That's only because he's wearing your clothes, and the only thing you wear is black." Zack rolls his eyes and says something about it bringing out the color in his eyes. Sephiroth rolls his eyes, and Zack fires something off about "Philistines".

Nevertheless, on the train out of the city, you see how much Sephiroth does care. It's a first-class private compartment. Zack falls asleep on Sephiroth's shoulder, and in an unguarded moment, you catch Sephiroth looking down at Zack with an expression of such intense affection that your heart gives a sudden lurch, and you think, with a pang in your soul, just how *much* Sephiroth must love Zack. You wonder just what you're doing around the two of them; the quiet, faintly irritated look that Sephiroth shoots you makes you doubt it further.

But when you get off the train, Zack takes your arm with one hand and Sephiroth's in the other, and at the car rental station, Sephiroth snatches the keys from both you and Zack, saying that Zack drives like a "monkey on crack" and that you drive like a "barrel of monkeys on crack". You say, "Well then, I guess we'll just take our crack-addicted primate asses to the back seat and entertain ourselves." Zack laughs. Sephiroth snickers and says that there *is* no back seat, at least not one that will fit a human being, much less a bunch of drug-addled gorillas -- he points out that the three of you have just rented a cherry red sports car. Zack's eyes go wide, and he snatches the keys from Sephiroth's hand and runs for the car, all the while yelling that the last person in is a rotted cantaloupe.

You learn to drive stick that afternoon, your crack habit not withstanding.

The engine purrs underneath your hands, and the road seems to melt away underneath the car. As you fly through the countryside, you remark that this is what flying must feel like, and Sephiroth smiles at you. "I'll teach you how to do that sometime," he says. You blink at him, dumbfounded and astounded before Zack yells something like "Keep your bloody eyes on the road, idiot!" and you swerve to avoid a tractor trailer.

Later, standing in the midst of a grove of aspens that look like they're on fire, you laugh and tell Sephiroth and Zack that if they really want to see fall colors, then they should go to Nibelheim sometime. "The trees are always more beautiful in the mountains," you say. "The nights are colder."

"It's plenty damn cold here," Zack sniffs, crossing his arms.

Sephiroth raises an eyebrow. "You know, that's probably the first innuendo-free statement you've made all day."

Zack's smile is pure mischief as he turns to you and says, waggling his out "Cloud, baby, I'm so cold. Would you . . . warm . . . me up?" You and Sephiroth simultaneously groan, loudly, and dramatically.

Nevertheless, when Zack puckers up and offers his mouth to you, you do kiss him, hard, with an intensity that makes his eyes drift quietly, blissfully shut as he pulls you down to the forest floor.

Sephiroth harrumphs and manages to says something about "hormonal teenagers" before you yank his legs out from underneath and Zack wrestles him to the ground in a fit of very un-SOLDIERly giggling. Sephiroth gives up trying to fight the two of you, and eventually, he lets the Zack strip his shirt off as you curse the fact that he wears underwear . . .

Afterwards, when you're lying on the ground, drowsy from exhaustion, Zack's arms around you and his mouth whispering endearments in your ear, and your head resting lightly in Sephiroth's lap as he runs fingers through your hair . . . He's humming lightly underneath his breath, and Zack stops his lazy nibbling on your ear to tell him to shut up, that Sephiroth chasing the squirrels away. With a low laugh, Sephiroth leans over, murmurs that there *are* other ways to chase squirrels off and demonstrates.

Lying on Sephiroth knee, Zack's hand wrapped around your waist, the autumn forest blazing all around you and the chill of winter starting in the air as Sephiroth leans down and kisses you with a mouth damp from Zack, as you wrap your arms around Sephiroth and pull him closet to you, you learn with a sudden wrench of pain just what it's like to want eternity to be this moment, for things to never change and this moment to last forever.

Very soon, though, you learn that that is the only thing that can't happen.

*

" . . . Look: the trees are;
the houses we live in still stand. Only we go
past everything like a bartering of the breeze."

--Ranier Marie Rilke, The Second Elegy of the Duino Elegies trans. by CF MacIntyre

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end

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