A/N The long awaited gift fic for ZacZeros, who tied for second place in my Brutal Teacher art contest! This story is a little... Unusual for me... but I thought I'd share anyway! Pairing: ...Unusual at best. XD Rating: For alcohol and sexual references! No graphic content this time though!
The Seventh Form of Heaven
I hope it suits you!
"Would you just look at them over there?" Angeal groused, gesturing across the crowded bar with his half-full beer.
"Rather not," Rude grunted.
"It's not their fault," Loz insisted, trying to hide a sniffle. "They're all just awful pretty, that's all."
There was a moment of silence as his drinking companions considered the statement. None of their eyes wavered from the spot across the bar where their comrades, partners, and brothers, respectively, were dealing with a hoard of admirers. Unfortunately, it was difficult for any of them to buy that eye-batting, groping, and makeout sessions were actually acceptable ways of dealing with the situation.
"Bullshit," Rude finally declared.
Angeal grunted in assent, his eyes narrowing as he watched Genesis throw his head back with a burst of laughter, his blue eyes flashing. Loz's hand tightened on his bottle as Yazoo flipped his hair, much to the delight of the three women crowded around him. Rude took a furious swig of beer as Reno embarked on a taste test between his admirers, indiscriminate of male or female so long as they met his good-looking standards.
The disgruntled trio muttered their thanks as Tifa dropped off another round without even looking at the dark-haired fighter.
The first time they'd ended up sitting at the counter together, it had been extremely tense. After all, a Turk, a Soldier and a remnant were hardly the ideal drinking buddies. However, they'/d quickly found some common ground as it became obvious that their intended drinking companions had gone AWOL. Since then, they'd fallen into a routine. Initially, they'd left stools open between them as though their friends might stop their games and rejoin them. However, as the nights passed with no signs of remorse or change from the others, they'd ended up sitting together, waiting for the much-admired trio flirting and playing across the bar to pass out. The first few times, they'd bet on who'd give out first, but the longer they knew each other, the more evident the pattern became, until it wasn't a gamble at all.
Reno would pass out first, either sprawled in a stranger's lap or mid-makeout with some girl or another. Then Yazoo would take on one too many jello shot competitions and pass out on the table, silver hair spilling messily around him. Finally, Genesis would wander unsteadily back to Angeal, in tears for one reason or another, though it was usually over Sephiroth. Then he'd fall asleep on the bar.
They had initially dragged their unconscious friends and brothers home the moment they gave out, but recently their dynamic was changing. They had all decided that hanging out at the bar drinking was more fun that carrying inert people around, and had taken to drinking together until Gen's final performance was done. Then they'd clink glasses once more, shoulder their respective burdens, and part ways until the next drinking night.
This particular night, though, something felt different. While Reno, Yazoo, and Genesis played around, their three observers were casting quiet glances to one another. They were no fools, and it was obvious that something was changing. Instead of sweat pants and a t-shirt, Rude had show up that evening suited up and neatly groomed, red tie snug around his well-muscled neck. Loz's hair was carefully styled, slicked back out of his face instead of lazily drooping. It gave him a somewhat fierce and competent look that suited him greatly. Even Angeal, who was never seen in public without perfectly groomed hair and an impeccable uniform had spruced up for the evening. Neither of his drinking buddies had missed the scent of his new cologne—apples and cinnamon worked well for him.
"So," Loz said, trying just a little too hard to be nonchalant, "have any plans for the evening? I mean, after the usual." He gestured towards the corner right as both Yazoo and Reno pounded another round of tequila.
Rude's soft grunt carefully indicated the negative without conveying anything more. Angeal shook his head as well, looking to Loz with interest, happy to have something to take his attention off Genesis's dishonorable conduct.
"Okay," Loz said carefully, "'cause I was thinkin', you know, they always get t' have all the fun and play all th' games, then we clean up after 'em, right?"
"Basically," Angeal sighed, shaking his head slowly. "They're hedonists."
"And we're enablers," Rude added, his voice flat, and his eyes a little frustrated behind his sunglasses.
"Well, yeah, I know all that," Loz muttered, lifting a hand to absently run through his hair. "But, you know... I was thinking that maybe... Maybe we should have some fun too, y'know?"
"Fun?" Angeal questioned. No one missed the way his eyes flickered over Loz.
"Well," Loz explained, "Tifa rents rooms upstairs..."
"Tifa," Called Rude, not leaving Loz enough time to expand any further on his statement. "We're going to rent a room for the night."
"Oh?" Tifa asked, sauntering over easily, a glass in hand as she polished it to shining once more. "For those three party animals?"
"No," Rude said with a slow smile, looking over to to his two drinking partners.
Angeal, usually so reserved and distant, had tilted his head, letting his short bangs swing loosely catty corner to his brow as he examined Loz's get up. When he reached out to trace a hand over the broad remnant's well muscled back, Loz and Rude knew he was in too. Tifa gave them all a suspicious look, but reached under the bar, passing Rude a key.
"Don't wake the kids," she ordered.
If the three men heard her, they didn't show it. They were headed upstairs, hands already finding holding places on one another, pulling ties off, and running fingers through silver hair. Tifa sighed, setting down her glass. She was lucky she'd found one straight guy in the seething mass of hormones that had come out of the entire Jenova debacle.
The next morning, when Reno, Genesis and Yazoo peeled themselves off the sticky floor where they had fallen, they found themselves in an empty bar, the chairs overturned, and the lights out. With a single glance between them, and a collective wince at their obviously disheveled looks, they slowly started picking themselves up.
"What the fuck, Aibo," Reno muttered to his absent partner.
"Well this is just disgraceful," Genesis snapped to himself, sharply brushing the husk of a peanut off his leather jacket.
"Uuugh, what is that in my hair!" Yazoo exclaimed, recoiling from his own silver locks.
From the stairway, the sounds of three pairs of footsteps echoed, paired with familiar voices muttering with hazy, fond tones. The three beauties who'd spent the night passed out on the bar floor looked up in time to watch Loz, with Rude pressed tight behind him, kiss Angeal passionately while Rude reached around them to grab Angeal's ass.
None of the three beauties ever quite collected their shattered world views after the sight.