Title: Valour

Pairing: Leon/Cloud or is it Cloud/Leon

Disclaimer: Why do I even write this; we all know that Square Enix and Disney have all the rights and not me or anybody else. cries Oh god Why not Me. Why is life so bloody unfair.

Warning: Smut and fluff and love and, did I mention smut?

Summary: This is actually the continuance of Discretion & Valour by Hanae ; because that girls is a fine damn writer and I just couldn’t help my self (and yeah I ask her, actually I pestered her to do a continuance and she didn’t wanted, so I just have to do it myself).

Authors Notes: This is my first born and even though is now almost half year old, my baby is still sensitive, like all babies are, so be gentle or mama is going to have a go at you.

EDIT: This is in the process of being beta'ed by Terene, So this chapter has been beta'ed by Terene.

Valour, Prologue - Hunter’s thoughts

The big hall was empty so early in the morning except for a lonely figure that was standing in front of a wall, on which a board with timetables and groupings for day-to-day work on restoration was hanging.

“Damn!” the man softly swore. He was too late to catch the person who hung the papers on the board. Again.

The schedule for the upcoming week was already pinned to the board. According to it, he would be working on the opposite side of town from his prey, which meant that he wouldn't have time to search him out.

Damn. That slippery bastard was too good at hiding and too good at planning; he had to give him that.

He ran his hand through blond spikes, which were jutting out in every possible direction from his scalp.

His failure at tracking down that certain brunette was starting to frustrate him. Not that he would give up, however. His friends may say that he was more the type of person to go with the flow and that he had problems with decisions, but when he made a decision, he always abided by it, no matter what.

So, when he first sensed his attraction to his brown-haired friend, he didn’t know what to do. It took some time to reconcile with that. And that's when he decided to act on that attraction.

He decided to go slowly—not that he had any other choice. That man was, after all, a frigid spinster, so all he ever managed were a few subtle touches whenever he could get away with them or a quick peck on the lips in a moment of enthusiasm—not with the tongue, though, which was a shame, really.

He did congratulate himself when he found the target of his vehement desire in the shower-house, jerking off, moaning his name. That was quite an achievement. He thought that he would need more time to work on the alluring brunette, before that silent male would even think about him in a sexual way. So, when he pinned him to the wall and brought to an end what the brunette had started, he thought that he had reached his aim and that having him in his bed was just a matter of time, but nooooo. That man ran away like a frightened maid who was attacked by a lustful monster with the intention of deflowering her. Well… the thought of deflowering was definitely on his mind, but he was no monster.

Oh, god, he thought, absently rubbing his right elbow. Am I really so repulsive that I drove away the object of my dreams, almost screaming? He walked to one of the small windows that were built into the walls of the hall. The reflection was blurry, but he was met with big, blue eyes staring back at him under thin, elegant eyebrows. With his hand, he shifted his blond hair out of his face. His oval face with its narrow chin, fine nose, and high cheekbones looked almost feminine, tender—not that he would acknowledge that, but there was nothing repulsive in it. His body frame was slender and lithe, covered with muscles won from sparring. Nothing wrong there either. He never thought about his appearance or thought that he was good looking, but the way that alarmed bunny had run away… It had raised some questions, and it had damaged his composure for a little while.

He straightened his shoulders. The mouse can run away and hide, but if the cat is patient enough, she will always find it.

His jaw settled in resolution. Yes. He would achieve his goal to get that headstrong ice-prince in his bed, even if that prince would be screaming and kicking in the process. The end would be the same no matter how much time it would take, no matter how much work it would take, no matter how much that glacier-prince—or should he say princess?—opposes it. In the end, that grey-eyed iceberg would be willingly sharing his bed, or floor, or whatever.

Wiping off the drool which appeared with that thought, he turned around and, with resolute steps, left the hall.