Welcome to Adventu, your final fantasy rp haven. adventu focuses on both canon and original characters from different worlds and timelines that have all been pulled to the world of zephon: a familiar final fantasy-styled land where all adventurers will fight, explore, and make new personal connections.
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year 5, quarter 3
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My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honor remains. The arrow has left the bow of the goddess.
Genesis chanted Loveless in his head as a calming mantra as the seconds lengthened. His back was turned to Bartz, but he heard the man make a noise and stumble in his hurry to get out of the bed. It sounded like he must have been terrified. Genesis pursed his lips in disdain, but he understood. He waited for Bartz to either scurry off or draw a weapon. He was a monster, after all. Not even human. Those were the only two reactions people tended to have to him.
It’s beautiful.
Genesis heard the words but couldn’t process them for a moment. Finally, they clicked into place and his lips parted in confusion as he turned his head to stare at Bartz. Beautiful? He couldn’t be serious. Angels and birds might be beautiful, but this? He was an asymmetrical monstrosity who was destined to play the role of the villain. That was all. He wasn’t even a perfect monster, like Sephiroth and Angeal had been. He was a failure, or so he’d been told.
As Genesis scowled at his own thoughts, Bartz stumbled over to him and put a warm, calloused hand over his right shoulder before asking if he had something else to say that was actually bad. “Moogles,” Genesis echoed, staring up at Bartz in disbelief. Was he even real? At that moment Genesis wasn’t sure. Bartz was shirtless and looking down at him with an honest, open grin that told him that Bartz genuinely didn’t care or see anything wrong here. Something about that made Genesis’ stomach flutter. He wanted to lean into Bartz's touch, and that's what made him quickly knock Bartz’s hand off his shoulder and stand up.
“What do you mean it isn’t bad?” He demanded. He was probably losing all chance of having this evening end up where he’d wanted it to, but that didn’t seem to matter anymore. The alcohol was still thrumming its way through his veins, and he was feeling hot with denial even though Bartz’s words felt like a refreshing gust of air. The contrast made him mad, and his words lashed out.
“I know exactly your type. You somehow never manage to dirty your hands despite what the world throws at you. You’re still good and kind even when the world goes to shit around you. You’re the hero of your story.” Was he still yelling at Bartz? Zack’s face swam in front of his eyes, and he wasn’t so sure anymore.
“Well I’m not like you! If the world takes aim at me, then I'll take aim right back. I’ve pretended to be like you tonight, but that’s all it was. You wouldn’t like the real me.” Heroes slayed monsters after all. Maybe Bartz would pick up where Zack had left off if he knew about the trail of carnage Genesis tended to leave behind him ever since he had sprouted his wing.
Feeling a headache coming on, Genesis rubbed at his forehead slightly and muttered the same line of Loveless from earlier in an attempt to calm himself down. “My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honor remains. The arrow has left the bow of the goddess. My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honor remains. The arrow has left the bow of the goddess. My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honor remains. The arrow has left the bow of the goddess...”
Genesis finished his last few bites of meat before he flopped backwards on the bed and propped himself up on one elbow. Bartz had gone off on a story about how he had found his chocobo as a baby, and Genesis admired the way his eyes had lit-up and how animated his expressions were as he told the tale. Maybe he wasn’t kidding about the chocobo being his best friend. He certainly seemed attached enough.
Bartz laughed to himself before fishing the crystal out of his pocket again. He held it up to catch the light of the nearest lamp before making a cryptic comment about some “Faris” and asking Genesis if he could hear anything. “Interesting,” he commented as Bartz tucked the oddly-shaped Materia back into his pocket again. “Can’t say I do. But perhaps it only speaks to you,” he said with a wink as he stretched out on the bed and glanced over as the brunette man flopped down next to him.
“Ah…” He hesitated slightly when Bartz asked what he was going to do now and turned his eyes towards the rough plaster ceiling instead of looking him in the eye. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I’ve had one goal for a very long time, and now that I’ve met it, everything seems…”
Dull? Lifeless? Pointless? How laughable that all he’d ever wanted was to stop his degradation, and now that he had, he had no idea what to do with his life.
“I’m still looking for a direction here. I suppose you could say I’m trying to have more honor than I did in my world,” he settled on, finally noticing that Bartz seemed to be having severe difficulty getting his shirt off. He was fumbling with where the red shirt was tied just over his abs, and from the way his cheeks flamed, he must have been flustered that he was struggling.
“Allow me,” he said, reaching over to assist, but before he managed to lay a hand on him, Bartz was enveloped in light. Freezing, Genesis pulled his hand back and sat up, but the light had converged back on Bartz in the next moment until it suddenly vanished. His revealing red shirt and green sash had disappeared along with the light, leaving a long-sleeved white shirt, blue tunic, and red cape in its place.
“Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess,” Genesis marveled. “That could be fairly handy if you learned how to control it.” Pity he hadn’t managed it earlier when they had been freezing outside, but maybe the man would get a handle on it eventually.
He watched as Bartz pulled off his cape and shirt before sprawling back on the bed again. Genesis followed suit by propping himself up on one elbow, admiring the curve of the man’s abs before he flicked his eyes back up towards Bartz’s clear blue eyes.
”Ain’t that neat?” Genesis fought a snort as Bartz moved a little closer to him. “You’re entirely lucky that you’re charming,” he said with a laugh, reaching out to drape an arm around Bartz’s waist before hesitating slightly. Genesis was still fully clothed in his leather pants and sleeveless turtleneck sweater, and it occurred to him now that he hadn’t been fully honest with Bartz. About a lot of things really, but Bartz didn’t need to know about his background. He’d likely hate Genesis for it with how naive and chivalrous he seemed. Undoubtedly the heroic type. But that didn’t matter if they were just spending one night in each other’s company.
What mattered was the one thing he couldn’t hide.
“I suppose I should say something before this goes any further,” he said begrudgingly as he pulled away and sat up. “You’re free to leave if you like.” Reaching behind his back, he undid the clasps for the plate armor that protected his chest and stomach before letting it fall to the ground. Pulling his sweater off over his head, he turned his back to Bartz and let his wing unfurl slightly. He couldn’t see Bartz’s face from this angle, but he half expected to hear a scream, scuttling footsteps, and the slam of the door.
My friend, do you fly away now? To a world that abhors you and I? He recited to himself as he waited for Bartz’s reaction.
Genesis tilted his head to the side as the mysterious man repeated his name and then complained that it was hard to find people who shared his love for the arts. “Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess. We seek it thus and take to the sky,” he agreed with a flourish before the man finally introduced himself with a low bow.
“Kuja?” He echoed with a short laugh as his eyes trailed to where the man’s silver hair had spilled over one shoulder. His billowed sleeve had fallen down his arm slightly when he had bowed and Genesis’ eyes were drawn to the purple nail polish that covered his rounded nails. “A pleasure then, Kuja,” Genesis continued, brightening when the man straightened and self-identified himself as a poet, among other things that mattered much less.
“You must be a man of many talents,” he said coyly as Kuja turned the conversation towards his skill with a sword. Genesis grimaced slightly in distaste but decided he didn’t mind the topic too much as long as they didn’t dwell on Shinra. They certainly weren’t worth the thought anymore.
“Whatever gave it away?” He asked with a slightly sarcastic smile as he gestured at his own uniform. At least he’d taken severe liberties with the typical First-Class Soldier attire. He didn’t look like just one of several dozen nameless sheep anymore.
“You’re right though,” Genesis relented. “I used to be a Soldier back in my world. Until the higher-ups and I had a bit of a falling out.” An explosive falling out as it were, but he wasn’t sure how much Kuja would like to hear that. Most people tended to react badly when they heard that he’d spent the past four years plotting murder, rebellion, and the ultimate culmination of Loveless.
“I actually enjoy using magic and my sword in equal measure though. I assume you appreciate magic yourself? You did describe yourself as a sorcerer.” He cast Kuja a curious glance, his smile widening into a slight smirk when the man boldly expressed his interest. He dearly hoped that meant that Kuja would want to get a drink afterward. His interest was piqued as well. The man had a flare for poetry and his conversation practically sparked with eloquence. He spoke like he was perpetually reciting a line of poetry or putting on an act. It was mesmerizing.
Unfortunately the moment came to an end when the doors to the house opened and the crowd started to disperse. “Alas, I suppose you’re right,” he sighed, though he couldn’t help his sharp intake of breath when Kuja stroked the back of his hand as he walked past. Well then. If that’s where the night was going then Genesis certainly wouldn’t mind.
“I’ll look for you afterwards,” he said, as he watched Kuja stroll towards the doors. “Even if the morrow is barren of promises, nothing shall forestall my return.” He admired the way Kuja’s hair and half-skirt swayed behind him as he walked, and then the moment was over as he turned to head inside the house himself.
The red velvet seats of the theater along with the dim lighting and the parting of the curtain usually did a lot to captivate his imagination. But this time as the first soprano took to the stage and raised her voice to begin an aria, Genesis’ thoughts were filled only with silver-haired men--both past and present.
Genesis didn’t bother to hide his laugh when Bartz scrambled onto the bed with the food and immediately laid down and burrowed into the blankets. You’d think that he hadn’t slept in a proper bed in weeks. However, from his next words about this being much better than the streets, Genesis decided that he had likely hit the nail on the head there. Maybe it wasn’t so surprising that Bartz was homeless. He seemed like a wild, free spirit who loved to wander but had too much integrity to steal. Like a non-uptight version of Angeal.
“You could always stay here tonight,” he suggested coyly, climbing onto the bed next to him when Bartz patted the empty space in invitation. Bartz had already dug into his sandwich, so Genesis followed suit and unwrapped his meal before taking a mouthful of breaded meat. It was average pub food at best, but the pleasant swim of the alcohol through his veins made it taste like one of the best things he’d ever had in his life.
“Mm,” he sighed contently, glancing over at Bartz as he talked about exploring. “Oh?” Genesis swallowed his bite before briefly setting down his food. “What’s your favorite place that you’ve ever explored?” He asked casually. It only seemed fair. Bartz already knew his favorite poem. He’d talked often enough about Loveless, after all.
After his question, Genesis continued to savor his warm food until Bartz opened the bottle of whiskey that he’d bought at the pub and took a long swig from it. He probably didn’t need much more on the alcohol front, but Genesis wasn’t about to stop him since he wanted more himself. He laughed at Bartz’s toast, raising the bottle of whiskey to him as the man still wearing his coat lifted his sandwich. “To all of those things,” he agreed, before adding a line of Loveless. “There is no hate, only joy, for you are beloved by the goddess. Hero of dawn, healer of worlds.” He took a long drink of whiskey afterwards, savoring the slow burn. It made his head feel a little lighter and warmed him enough to where he almost forgot that they had been outside in the cold.
“So tell me,” He continued, alternating between finishing his food and taking quick drinks from the bottle. “What do you do when you’re exploring?” He cast a glance at the table where his red rapier was taking up the entire length of one side. “Do you know how to fight at all? You clearly have some magic.” He glanced at Bartz’s pocket where that oddly-shaped piece of Materia from earlier had glowed and changed the man’s clothes to the revealing red shirt and tight black pants he wore now under Genesis’ coat. It was quite the trick. Pity Bartz didn’t seem to understand how or when it worked.
The man seemed startled by Genesis’ enthusiasm, but most people were, in his experience. Loveless was certainly a popular play in Midgar, but very few people were able to appreciate its genius as much as he did. That was certainly their loss. Loveless contained all the knowledge of the world that anyone needed, and he had always been at a loss for why no one else could understand that.
“Lord Avon?” He repeated the playwright’s name once the man seemed to collect his thoughts. “Pity. I haven’t heard of him. But I suppose that’s to be expected.” Genesis perked up slightly when the man continued and mentioned that Lord Avon’s work was from ‘his world.’ It appeared that he too had woken up here from somewhere else, but that was entirely obvious with his eccentric appearance at least. Genesis would have honestly been more surprised to find that he had come from these dark, depressing streets instead of having been blown in from somewhere exotic.
Considering his empty wine glass, Genesis paused when the man repeated his Loveless quote back to him perfectly. He had an excellent memory, it seemed, and he liked the way the words sounded as they flowed off the stranger’s lips. By the time the man had finished analyzing the line and started gushing over the merits of vengeance, Genesis decided that he liked this man even more. He was intriguing in a way no one else wandering the opera house lobby was.
“I entirely agree.” he said, as he finally set his empty wine glass to the side. The conversation was riveting enough that he probably didn't need to hold onto it. “There are few things that taste sweeter when revenge is deserved.”
The man swept his hair over one shoulder, and Genesis’ eyes were drawn to the way the silver waves fell into place before he was distracted by the man’s smile as he professed a desire to read Loveless.
“Oh?” He asked, looking him over closely again. There was something in his expression that might have been a little mocking, but Genesis hoped that wasn’t the case. He was enjoying himself too much, and he adored any opportunity to spread his knowledge of Loveless. “An admirer already? How lucky of me.” He considered the double doors to the auditorium before looking back to the poetic stranger.
“My friend, your desire is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess,” he said with a bit of a flourish. “I suppose I should ask the name of my admirer then. I’m Genesis.” Pity they wouldn’t have as much time to get acquainted before the opera started. Maybe he should invite him for a drink afterward.
Genesis brightened when the silver-haired stranger insulted Sonora and praised the theater in the same sentence. It was the only sentence that had left his mouth so far, but Genesis already thought that this was someone he could get along with. Pausing to take a sip of wine, he considered the man a little closer now that he was standing directly in front of him. He had a startling choice of clothes, and he must have been freezing in the cold streets of Sonora, but he had a certain presence that demanded that you look at him. He had beautiful features, and between the high-heeled boots, carefully applied makeup, and silver feather loosely placed behind one ear, he clearly took a lot of care in his appearance. He looked like he belonged somewhere far away from this grim city. Genesis could respect anyone who looked like they had stepped straight from the pages of a book.
“I entirely agree. I miss going to the theater,” he said with a long-suffering sigh. He’d had season tickets back in Midgar before he’d abandoned Shinra entirely. “Tell me there’s a decent one hiding somewhere in this world.”
He started to take another sip of wine but paused when the man started to recite a line of poetry. By the time the final words had left the man’s lips, Genesis had already decided that he was in love. What was that poem? Had he come up with it himself on the spot? If so, then the man had talent, and Genesis was impressed.
“A fascinating interpretation,” he said, looking straight into his pale blue eyes. “But are we to feel sympathy for the beasts? Or is it that humanity itself was never made of anything but monsters?”
After the man had taken another drink of champagne, he inquired after the nature of the line that Genesis had recited to him, and Genesis felt as if he had been waiting for this question all his life. If there had been a table or flat surface handy, he might have even set down his drink for this. He felt he needed the full range of his hand motions, but one hand free would have to do.
“It’s from Loveless. It’s a classic, and also my absolute favorite, but it doesn’t appear to exist in whatever you’d call this world. Which is a pity. I’ve been contemplating writing it down just so people here can experience it. I had a book published back home on the various interpretations of its lines and my theories on the missing final act of the related play.” He considered the dregs of wine at the bottom of his glass before reciting the line that had resonated with him the most lately. “My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment to find the end of the journey in my own salvation and your eternal slumber.”
Tilting back the glass, he finished the last of the wine before smiling at the silver-haired stranger. “And you? I take it you must be a fan of poetry yourself. Did you come up with that, or was that from something?”
Genesis had finally started to adjust to life in Sonora, but that didn’t mean that he liked the city anymore than when he’d first set foot in it. The sprawling buildings and grim atmosphere reminded him far too much of Midgar for his taste. Unfortunately the feeling that he’d arrived back in Shinra’s capital was both what made him hate the city and what made him stick around.
“What kind of backwoods city doesn’t even have a proper theater?” he bemoaned from his place across the street as he looked up at the large auditorium that made up the opera house. Genesis had been there several times already over the past few weeks, and it had become one of his favorite haunts in the city even though he really wasn’t a fan of opera. It wasn’t bad per se, but it just didn’t have the same impact on him that a good play or a good piece of poetry did.
Still, it was better than nothing, and after a few minutes of grumbling and pulling his leather coat tighter around him to block out the cold and wind, he finally trudged through the snow towards the front doors. A pair of ushers in black coats opened the double-doors for him as he approached, and he didn’t bother to thank them as he strolled inside to the warmer air of the box office. They were only doing their job, after all.
Pulling out the pouch where he kept his money, Genesis sighed at the low amount, deciding that he’d need to pick off another guard soon. It wasn’t as if he could find a real job here yet. And anyway, he was doing the world a favor. Everyone was better off with less soldiers around. He could have told Sonora’s government just what kind of deserved ruin that investing too heavily in their military would bring them.
After buying his ticket, Genesis strolled into the lobby of the opera house, eyeing the red velvet staircases on either side of the hall and the closed double doors to the house. Various ushers in white and black were scattered around the crowd and a few stood in front of the doors with their hands clasped behind their backs. It appeared that the auditorium hadn’t quite opened to the public yet. Wonderful. Now he needed something to occupy his time for a few minutes.
Scanning the crowd, a scowl formed on his face as he glanced around at all the monotonous men and women in predictable suits and various colored dresses. No one stuck out to him as looking particularly interesting in the slightest, and it was with a huge amount of relief that he spotted the bar on the other side of the hall.
“Oh praise the goddess. Alcohol,” he said a little too loudly, ignoring the questioning stares he got as he pushed through the crowd. He cut more than a few people already in line in his hurry to get a glass of red wine, but it still felt like an eternity before he was able to support the wall and sip the bitter liquid as he scanned the room again. A painted mural covered most of one wall, and Genesis had just taken to scanning it and wondering what the artist’s intentions were in using such dark colors when a man with long silver hair walked past.
Genesis froze, fumbled his glass, and quickly gripped it tighter before taking a second look at the man. It wasn’t Sephiroth. Of course it wasn’t. Even if Sephiroth wasn’t dead, he’d never willingly come to a place like this. Letting out a shaky breath, Genesis watched the man out of the corner of his eye as he approached the bar and purchased a glass of champagne. He was a tall, feminine man with beautiful features and eccentric clothing. He must have been freezing with his exposed stomach, but he gave no sign if it bothered him as he flitted close to Genesis before stopping and taking a sip of his drink. Well. Genesis had been looking for someone interesting to pass the time with before the house doors opened. Perhaps he’d found his muse.
He approached the man and lifted his wine glass slightly in greeting. “When the war of the beasts brings about the world’s end, the goddess descends from the sky,” he quoted in introduction before remembering that Angeal used to scold him for introducing himself with Loveless instead of ‘actual words.’ As if there were any words outside of Loveless that truly mattered.
“You don’t look like you’re from this depressing hole of a city,” he settled on instead as he took a lingering sip of wine. “What brings you here? A fan of the arts, I take it?”
Bartz seemed more than a little flustered after Genesis had frisked him to retrieve his money, and Genesis smirked faintly as he leaned against the bar counter and listened to him struggle to piece together his order for a sandwich. He recovered quickly enough though--Bartz seemed to change moods almost immediately when the situation called for it--and in the next second, he was already back to elbowing Genesis and making stupid jokes.
“Oh, I don’t think I’m that hard to get to know,” he said with a wink as they waited for their food to be made. He then had to stifle a laugh as Bartz snuggled deeper into his coat and proclaimed that he might take it because it looked so good on him. He did look pretty damn good in it, if Genesis were to be honest. It fit him nicely too, at least when Bartz wasn’t burying himself in it. They appeared to be around the same height.
Genesis rolled his eyes as Bartz cracked himself up with his pick-up line about stealing hearts. “My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honor remains,” he complained as the woman behind the counter returned and set their food down on the bar. She then grabbed the correct amount of coins and slid the remainder back over to him. Genesis nodded his thanks and was starting to sweep the rest back into his pouch when Bartz picked up their food to carry it. Genesis smiled at him, though it turned into a slight scowl when he asked him to leave the rest of the money as a tip. He couldn’t be serious, could he? Literally the only money he’d made in this world so far had been from stealing, so it wasn’t as if Genesis had a lot to spare. And what did that woman deserve a tip for anyway? Making a sandwich? The entitlement of some people.
Genesis waited until Bartz had walked a few paces away before sweeping the rest of the coins back into the small bag, maintaining eye contact with the pub employee the entire time he did it. He refused to be intimidated into charity, damn it.
Following Bartz back out onto the street, he let out a quick breath as the cold air hit him before he had time to adjust. “No, luckily for us, the inn I’m staying at is just down the street,” he said, reaching in between Bartz’s arms so he could tuck his money back into the coat near Bartz’s hip. He let his fingers trail over his waist more than was necessary as he pulled back, though he quickly paused when Bartz asked to know something about him. A normal question, but a normal response to that was going to be harder than it should have been. What should he settle on?
Well, you see, I’ve killed a lot of people in my life. But some random Soldier helped me restore my honor, so all is forgiven, right?
It turns out I’m a science experiment, would you like to see my wing?
Did you know that I’m using this date as a desperate attempt to forget that my friends are dead and I’m alone in this world?
“I suppose you could say I’m an ex-Soldier,” he settled on as he strolled down the snowy sidewalk towards the glowing sign that marked the hotel entrance. “But I left the army about four years ago. I had quite a few...grievances with it.” And by that he meant that he’d taken half the army with him and turned them into his copies in an effort to grind Shinra into dust. Nothing Shinra didn’t deserve though. It was hardly an overreaction.
“Poetry is my main passion though,” he changed the subject. “If you couldn’t have guessed that.” He shot Bartz a low smile as he swept an arm towards the front door of the inn. “Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess. We seek it thus and take to the sky,” he serenaded him as he held the door open for him before following after into the welcoming heat.
Relishing in the feeling that returned to his limbs once they were out of the cold, he directed Bartz down a side hallway before picking out the smooth wooden door that marked his room. Smirking faintly, he frisked Bartz once more to come up with the room key.
“Here we are.” He unlocked the door and flipped the lightswitch to reveal a plainly-furnished room with wooden furniture and and a queen-sized bed with the blankets turned down. His red rapier was lying on the table and various pieces of Materia were scattered next to it. “It isn’t much, but it’s what I could afford right now.”
“Aye aye captain?” Genesis echoed, laughing louder than he should have into the night as Bartz scrambled to follow him down the street. Bartz was lucky he was endearing, at any rate. Genesis was about to tease him further when Bartz finally caught up and threaded their fingers together as he leaned against his arm. Blinking slightly, Genesis glanced over at him, a slight smirk crossing his lips as Bartz made some excuse about not wanting to get separated.
“Oh, but of course. That would be a travesty,” he said as he gripped Bartz’s hand in return. Pausing, his lips parted slightly in surprise when Bartz continued and suggested that they take the food to go and bring it back to Genesis’ room. “Oh?” He asked, looking him over curiously. All the dancing had left Bartz’s hair in a wild style that somehow suited him. The cold had quickly reddened his cheeks, and his eyes had an excited, blown-out shine from the alcohol as he grinned up at him. He had Genesis’ coat pulled tightly over his shoulders to block out the cold, and Genesis admired the way that his muscles were outlined beneath the leather and the way the coat trailed out behind him as he walked. Bartz looked beautiful, and Genesis’ stomach fluttered more than it had in a long time looking at him.
“My friend, your desire is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess,” he murmured, before realizing that he’d likely need to translate that. “You know, I do believe I’d like that,” he amended. "It’s been a while since I’ve had a night like this.” Four years? Longer? He certainly hadn’t hooked up with a stranger or even been to a bar since he’d left Shinra at any rate.
Leaning further against his arm, Genesis walked hand in hand down the cold streets with him, fighting the urge to laugh at Bartz’s only slightly rambling story. “Your best friend’s a chocobo?” He asked as he tilted his head to one side. Well, who was he to judge really? Genesis didn’t have a single friend left who was alive, but if he continued on that train of thought, he was likely to abandon Bartz and go to drink his sorrows alone. And that wasn’t where he’d prefer the night to end.
“A princess,” he echoed, as Bartz finished his story. “Hm. I assumed we must have had something in common to both end up here, but we seem to come from very different places. Princesses are a thing of the past in my world.” All they had was one morbidly obese president of Shinra. Pity Genesis hadn’t gotten to kill him before ending up here.
“Anyway, it’s right down the street here,” he finished his musing and lifted his free hand to point out the pub that he had discovered a few days ago. He liked what he had seen of it so far. It was a clean, loud establishment that wasn’t exactly welcoming, but people seemed to mind their own business if they didn’t already know you. Exactly his kind of place.
Not bothering to clean the snow off his boots on the welcome mat, Genesis finally released Bartz’s hand as he strolled inside and went to lean against the bar counter. This pub had much better lighting than the dance club that they had been at before, and as he glanced back at Bartz, Genesis realized that the slit in the back of his leather coat (and probably the slit on the back of the turtleneck he was wearing) were much more visible here. Hopefully Bartz didn’t look too closely. Genesis needed a bit more alcohol before he was ready to explain the wing holes.
“I’ll just take a breaded cutlet to go. And throw in a small bottle of whiskey, would you?” He directed to the older woman behind the counter before glancing at Bartz for his order.
“Oh,” he remembered with a faint smirk while he was waiting, before leaning in and pulling open the red leather coat that Bartz was wearing. “Here we are,” he extracted a small bag from a pocket near Bartz’s hip and quickly palmed it in an attempt to hide the drops of dried blood on it. “Now you know my secrets,” he said with a wink as he shook a few coins out onto the bar counter. “Do try not to run off with my coat, or I’ll have to chase you.”
It was said flirtatiously, but Genesis meant every syllable. Anyone who stole from him had better be good at hiding.
Genesis laughed under his breath when instead of answering him, Bartz just took his offered hand and spun him further onto the dance floor. Pushing his reservations aside, Genesis tried to forget everything that had led him here as the alcohol slowly warmed him and the hypnotic beat of the music pulsed its way into his blood. Bartz was a fantastic dance partner--he threw himself into every move as if there was no one watching--so Genesis found it easy to let go and throw himself into every sway and dip of the music. Once, he tried to take things closer by reaching for his bare waist, but Bartz nimbly danced away from him as he shot him a flirtatious smile and kept his distance. What a tease.
Smirking faintly, Genesis also backed off, and as he did a slow turn, he noticed Bartz good-naturedly shooing away someone else who had tried to approach. It was only natural that Bartz would attract attention with the way he was dancing and the way his open red shirt showed off his lithe, muscular stomach. Still, Genesis was flattered that he seemed to want to keep their dancing between the two of them. Though maybe that wasn’t surprising considering he had almost gotten his throat slit at the bar already tonight. Perhaps he was playing it safe. There were certainly plenty of people in Midgar who could have told him that a night with Genesis was far from playing it safe, but Bartz didn’t need to know that.
Spinning closer to him, Genesis paused as the song pulsed to a close, and he laughed quietly, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he looked the man over warmly. Bartz had also slowed to a stop, and he was running a hand through his short brown hair with his eyes closed and a smile on his lips.
“Need a break?” Genesis suggested, but the music suddenly started up again, and the combination of the low bass with the alcohol swirling through his veins warmed him enough to make him light-headed. Bartz clearly felt the same because he suddenly pressed closer, and Genesis had to suck in a breath when Bartz trailed two fingers up his chest before suddenly gripping the collar of his turtleneck and yanking him forward until they were flush against each other. Well, tonight certainly seemed to be taking an interesting direction, he thought with some amusement, before shivering slightly as Bartz’s warm breath hit his ear before lips descended on his neck.
Feeling the beat pulse into his skin, Genesis pulled back slightly and tried to dip down for a kiss, but Bartz had already spun around and resumed dancing against him. Laughing, Genesis snaked his hands around his waist as he swayed with him before leaning into his ear from behind. “And here I thought you were naive,” He murmured, continuing their dance until the song faded, and he let go of Bartz and backed off.
Bartz gave him that open grin that was starting to be familiar before he gripped Genesis’ hand and tugged him towards the exit. Genesis just barely managed to snag his red leather coat off the racks near the door before they spilled into the night, snow swirling around them and up towards the sky.
Bartz immediately started shivering, his arms going around himself since all he was wearing was a half-shirt. “Not going to magically change clothes again?” Genesis asked with a raised eyebrow before begrudgingly holding out his coat. “Here. You need it more than I do.” Genesis had a sleeveless turtleneck on, but it was more than warm enough. Anyway, he was used to the cold. Several of his missions as a Soldier had sent him to godforsaken wastelands.
“I think we could both use some food,” he said with a slight smirk in response to Bartz’s question. Genesis could still feel the alcohol warming his face, and he was betting Bartz was too from the man’s actions on the dance floor. “My treat this time.” Technically, it was the treat of two dead guards who had tried to stop him from entering Sonora, but what Bartz didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
“There’s a pub near where I’m staying that’s pretty good. The food is basic, but the beer isn’t half bad.” A glowing recommendation, but Genesis rarely gave those anyway. “It isn’t a bad walk from here either, if you’re up for it.” Though he still would have preferred to fly, but he somehow doubted this well-guarded city would take kindly to someone with a wing. Not to mention that it seemed to be a turn-off for some people.
“Shall we?” He asked as he set off down the cold street. “The wind sails over the water’s surface, quietly but surely,” He quoted as he scowled at the freezing winds before casting about for a conversation topic as they walked.
“What’s the last thing you remember before waking up here?” Though with Genesis' luck, the answer to that would be some tragic mood killer.
