andrea rhodea/cloud strife fic thread because i can

sfw (for now ;)) sugar daddy andrea and cloud having a nice relaxing day

Going back to the Wall Market wasn't exactly in the plans. Fighting for a future in a broken world, well on its way to shattering entirely, hadn't quite allowed Cloud the time to indulge, well, in anything. He'd been too busy staying alive and keeping his beloved friends alive.

(ALSO I'll try to keep this as spoiler-free as possible, from both the og game's storyline and the remake storyline)

So it's weeks before Cloud gets the chance to get back to Midgar, the familiar scent of steel and smoke invading him instantly. He's alone, for now, his friends off to their own deeds, with the promise of returning soon.

Cloud hasn't exactly told them the whole truth.

Shame burns hot in his throat at the thought of the message he had gotten while on road to the Gold Saucer: just a simple, polite message, signed by none other than Andrea Rhodea.

It hadn't even been an invitation. Just a reminder that Cloud is missed.

Only Aerith gives Cloud a knowing look when he vaguely informs them that he's heading to Wall Market. She gives him a tight hug before he goes and whispers that if he ends up in trouble, he knows who to call.

"Mr. Rhodea is going to take good care of you, I think," she says with a wink.

Cloud freezes, turns away from her with burning cheeks. "How do you - "

Aerith winks. "I didn't. Now I do."

For someone with such an innocent, sweet face, Aerith can be surprisingly crafty. It's with her laughter in his ears that Cloud descends into the lights of the Wall Market, to the same winding little streets and barely hidden debauchery.

As usual, Honeybee Inn appears in front of him, its lights inviting him in. The usual queue at the front, people from all walks of life. None of them quite interest Cloud.

He fidgets at the end of the queue.

It's only once the receptionist, the guy with the most immaculate eyebrows Cloud has ever seen, spots him, that Cloud straightens.

"Mister Cloud!" The man purrs and waves him over, in front of the queue. Cloud ignores the grumbling, but feels his neck heat up anyway.

"Mr. Rhodea is expecting you," the receptionist says sweetly and waves him in, parts the curtains so Cloud steps inside the honey-sweet world of the Honeybee, heart racing.

If it weren't for his gloves, his palms would be sweating.

He wasn't this nervous when they were on a mission to rescue Tifa, wasn't he? He had just done what had to be done.

Now this - this is just indulging himself. Something he hasn't done in literal years.

Taking comfort in the familiar weight of his sword on his back, Cloud lets himself be lead further inside. The little opening area is blissfully empty: from behind closed doors and curtains he can hear music and laughter. Honeybee is a place for relaxation, for loving who you are

and it's where you can go to forget what ails you, whatever calamity that next wants to drop out from the sky.

Cloud is led up the stairs, behind doors he hasn't known before.

The receptionist vanishes, back to his business, and is replaced by Andrea Rhodea himself.

This time he is more gold than black, in something shimmery and sleeveless and utterly enchanting.

Cloud's cheeks bloom hot when Andrea grabs his hands and smiles. "I was hoping you would show up," he says, voice velvet-smooth, eyes liquid fire.

"You poor dear, you look simply exhausted - why don't you take a seat?" With careful hands, Cloud is lead into Andrea's room, the office at front, as lavish as the man himself, then further in, to the velvet and honey-dark living area.

It's hard to believe a space like this even exists inside the slums, underneath the steel plates of Shinra's supremacy. Yet it does, wrapping its existence around Cloud like a comforting blanket. He finds the tension coiled inside himself loosening.

"I - " he starts, uncertain. He places his sword against the wall, the giant, gleaming hulk of metal utterly out of place in the gentle, warm decadence of Andrea's rooms.

"Something to drink, perhaps?" Andrea's touch is feather-light on Cloud's hair.

"Yeah."

Cloud gets himself a drink, amber and oddly sweet. He takes a careful sip. Andrea sits opposite to him, head tilted, watching him.

"Now. How is my beautiful warrior?"

Cloud swallows hard. Beautiful? He blinks. Andrea smiles. "I mean what I say, always."

Cloud's cheeks burn.

He's battleworn and exhausted, wearing his rugged old turtleneck and harness, his boots dragging days of dust and sand with them. He probably desperately needs a good long bath.

Like reading his mind, Andrea smirks.

"You know, darling, whatever you came here for, just to see little old me, or anything else - it is all yours. Whatever you wish for, it is all yours, my beautiful warrior. Come on, finish your drink. I think you deserve a nice bath."

Cloud nods, still tongue-tied.

The drink, probably imported from outside of Midgar, too expensive on his tongue, makes the room warmer. Cloud stands up and fidgets.
"Mr. Rhodea - " he starts, but gets himself shushed with a firm finger to his lips.

There are no stage lights here, just this man in gold.

"None of that, darling. Call me Andrea. Now, do you wish for a bath? I have some absolutely exquisitive scents you must try on." Once more Andrea takes his hands, one by one, and begins pulling off Cloud's gloves.

"Scents? I'm - Bath sounds nice," Cloud concedes.

His hands seem small and pale after the gloves are pulled off and carefully folded away. Even paler are his wrists, as Andrea gently takes off his heavy wristbands.
"Such good hands," Andrea hums and rubs Cloud's palms, his fingertips smooth over Cloud's own callused ones.

"Not pretty," Cloud huffs, but doesn't pull away. His tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth, especially when Andrea puts his lips to Cloud's knuckles. The kiss is feather-light, so utterly gentle.

Andrea's eyes glimmer. They're lined with smoky black. "Oh, darling."

"That is where you are incorrect. These hands?" He lifts Cloud's hands between his own, clearly admiring the difference between their skintones, the sweet smoothness of his own hands, the faint scars and calluses on Cloud's own. Cloud's hands are small in Andrea's grip.

"These are the hands of a protector. It was clear to me, from the very moment you came to me, looking for my favour... that you are someone who puts others ahead of himself at all things." Andrea gives his hands a gentle squeeze, then stays still when Cloud begins to take off his

shoes.

"When is the last time you put yourself first, my dear?"

Cloud struggles with the laces of his boots. He flops back down on the couch, worrying his lip between his teeth. "I ... I can't remember."

He would gladly do anything for his family. He's done so many things for his family. They keep him going and, well, he likes to think that he helps them keep on going too.

Andrea kneels by Cloud's feet and gently, still so gently, finishes taking off his heavy boots.

"Well then. I think it's about time you focused on yourself, my dear. That is what you need, is it not?"

Cloud is once more pulled up. They're almost at equal height, but next to Andrea, the grace of him, Cloud feels oddly clumsy.

"I don't know," Cloud whispers. He tugs on his belt. "I just... I just know I needed to come back here." The blush returns with full force, colouring the usual paleness of his cheeks.

Andrea hums. "And I am glad for that. Now then, I shall go put the bath on."

"I think you would like to finish undressing in privacy, yes?"

Cloud nods, mutely. He fidgets. He gets a bathrobe pointed for himself, clearly one of Andrea's own. When Cloud hesitates in even touching such beautiful silk, Andrea tuts.
"Darling, if you would let me, I would

drape you in the finest of silks, nothing but luxury for such a beautiful face and beautiful body."

Cloud drops his gaze to the floor, face burning.

Andrea hums as he moves to the other room, possibly the bathroom. Cloud can hear water.

The man himself is waiting by a giant bathtub, lined with candles, a beautifully carved little incense holder in the corner, holding two sticks. They don't smell as sickly sweet as Cloud expected, but of something light, like spring.

Cloud hasn't been this physically bare with anyone in a long time. He's tied the robe tight around himself, cheeks warm, toes curling on the plush bathroom carpet.

Andrea smiles. "Sweetheart," he says. "Will you allow me the honour of taking care of you?"

"Nothing you do not want," Andrea continues. "You merely look like you need it. Am I not correct?"

Cloud fidgets. He huffs. "Yeah. I do."

He's bled for his family, gotten poisoned for them, his mind is still a hazy place to be, but - there is nothing but gentle invitation in Andrea Rhodea's eyes, the tilt of his elegant eyebrow. He may not know all that Cloud has gone through, but he sees the evidence on Cloud's

body. And still calls him beautiful.

"You are very handsome," Andrea says, casually. He lets Cloud strip off the robe in peace, glancing at the ceiling, waiting until Cloud has stepped under the water. "Your body tells a story, even when your lips stay silent."

Cloud dips his head into the water, brushes his heavy, thick hair off his face. "I bet you say that to all your, your companions." At least it's warm enough to explain the red on his cheeks.

Andrea laughs, heartily. "And do you all not deserve to hear it?"

Andrea's hands are careful as they begin carding through Cloud's hair. "You especially do. I have not forgotten the time we had together, when you first came to me."

Cloud lets his eyes flutter closed. The water is so pleasantly warm on his aching muscles. "Yeah?"

"The way you moved on that arena, ah." Andrea begins rubbing shampoo on Cloud's hair, careful, yet firm.

Cloud shivers, despite himself.

"You are enchanting, Cloud. Such a creature of contradictions: so gloriously masculine, with a touch of femininity.

So intent on playing it cool, yet you shy away from a simple praise. Even your name is a contradiction. Soft, fragile. A conflict." Andrea hums. His voice has dipped lower. "You interest me greatly. You have always interested me greatly."

Cloud bites his lip.

"I don't - " he pauses to wrap his arms around himself, to lean back against Andrea's hands. "I'm just me. You don't even know me."

Andrea hums. "Perhaps, my love. Yet I feel like I do, do I not? Now, keep your eyes closed, let's rinse your darling hair."

They do, Andrea's hands are warm and wet on Cloud's hair and face. "You have magnificent bone structure," Andrea hums.

Cloud blinks, opens his eyes to see the warm twinkle in Andrea's eyes.

Andrea cups his face and winks. "And those eyes. Ah, how my heart soars."

Cloud's nose wrinkles. "Andrea - "

"Shush." Andrea's eyes shine. "You're not the first SOLDIER boy to come this way, but the first one to capture my heart." He winks. "Certainly the first with such captivating eyes." Andrea's thumbs brush under Cloud's eyes.

"Such beautiful glow, and that sky blue... ah. Who would not think you the most beautiful person after seeing such eyes?"

Cloud pulls Andrea's hands away, slumping further down in the bath. "That's nonsense," he grumbles, ears and cheeks burning.

"I never speak nonsense," Andrea says and slathers soap onto Cloud's shoulders.

Cloud pulls his knees against his chest and sighs, deep. Andrea begins to massage his shoulders, his upper back. "Such muscles," Andrea purrs.

"Ah, what I would give to see you drenched in jewellery. Silks, velvet, ruffles. Gold, silver. Honey." Andrea's fingertips brush Cloud's neck, the little hairs in there and Cloud shivers.

"Maybe," Cloud finds himself whispering. It feels ... illicit. Like a secret.

Andrea hums. "Truly? You would let me?" Andrea runs his hands down Cloud's arms, brushes wet hair from his cheek. "I have a few garments that would look exquisite on you. And, if I am to be honest, I could take the liberty of ordering you some. Just for you."

Cloud stills. His head snaps back up. "Me? Why would you do that?"

Andrea's sitting more firmly on the edge of the bathtub, his arms bare. He is more fairy creature than human man, enchanting on his own.

"And why not, my beautiful warrior? Have you already forgotten what I told you when we first met?" Andrea strokes Cloud's cheek, briefly, but still leaves a scorching mark.

"I've... I have not forgotten," Cloud murmurs.

"I don't think clothes like those would suit me." He licks his lips, carefully. Andrea's thumb brushes his lip and Cloud barely bites back a whine. "But I can't say I'm not... interested." His throat burns as he slumps down into the bath again.

Andrea lets out a brief, melodic laugh and continues to wash him. "I am delighted to hear that, my dear! I know you have your great mission to go to, your friends must be waiting for you... yet I cannot help but be absolutely certain that this is something you desire."

"Nothing that happens in these rooms will go beyond these walls, that I can assure you of." Andrea lays a kiss on Cloud's damp hair, running his fingers through it, scratching Cloud's scalp gently. "The fact that you are here, is exhilarating to me."

"You won't ask?" Cloud leans against the touch, feeling himself relaxing even further.

"Oh, I am curious! But I am not rude," Andrea murmurs. "Now then, do you want to soak on your own, or shall I fetch you the fluffiest towel I own?"

"I haven't been here in weeks. Months, even. Yet you're only slightly curious?" Cloud glances at his eccentric companion again.

Andrea's gaze flickers to his arms, to under the water. Andrea quirks an eyebrow. "That eager to tell me tales of your heroics, my dear?"

Cloud opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. "I- uh -" he stammers, flustered. "Uh. No. I just - it's been a long ride. Since this place." He inhales deep, lets the warmth of Andrea's presence wrap around himself. "No time to think. Just to act."

"And now?" Andrea helps him out of the tub, wraps him in a giant, golden towel. That dark gaze lingers on Cloud's skin, making him burn.

And... he lets Andrea look.

"I don't know if I like the place my mind is in right now," Cloud admits.

The towel is wrapped around his shoulders, leaving this toes bare.

"Well, your body certainly is," Andrea hums. The one elegant lift of his eyebrow. His hands on his hips. "How are you feeling, darling?" Andrea begins drying his hair, without question.

Cloud takes in Andrea, the easy, graceful way he's standing, moving. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" Andrea's thumb brushes Cloud's cheek, his lips.

"Be... like that. Be at ease."

gotta continue tomorrow, i have a fucking migraine that's not going away so

night my dudes