The doorbell rang and Genesis slammed his wine bottle down on the dilapidated little coffee table and hauled himself up, taking a moment to smooth his shirt. "What do you want, Angeal?" he asked, not even bothering to look when he opened the door. Angeal would always follow him, like his own pet bloodhound.
"To see how you are." Angeal came in and sat down on the couch like he had received an engraved invitation.
"I'd be better if I hadn't been placed in the slum tenements." Genesis arranged himself delicately next to his friend and picked up the wine again. "Nothing in here matches and I swear this couch has fleas."
"You poor dear. How will you ever survive?"
"It is indeed a trial to suffer in this squalor. I'm considering setting the place ablaze before I leave; it would be a small improvement."
"Whatever makes it easier for you, I guess."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Genesis snarled.
"You know what I mean." Angeal sighed, then grabbed the bottle out of Genesis's hand, and took a big swig before handing it back. "Want to talk about it?"
"And why, dear friend, would I want to do that?" He didn't need to sit down and have a heart-to-heart about his feelings. It wouldn't change anything. "He just... who the fuck does he think he is!?"
"What? No, not the brat, though that's a good question, too. Sephiroth. He... he kicked me out, Angeal!"
"Can you blame him? If he hadn't, I was going to. You were being a total asshole."
"I don't mean now... well, I do, but he kicked me out long before then. I never meant anything to him. I could have been there for him. I would have... but he didn't want it."
"I know he never wanted to be monogamous, but –"
Genesis sighed and shook his head, feeling resigned. "He wanted me gone, Angeal. He didn't want me to love him. I was content with what we had."
"Were you really?"
Genesis glared at his friend. What did it matter now? Who cared about how he had hoped that one day Sephiroth would have come to appreciate him? Nothing would get him to admit what a blow it had been to his pride, every time Sephiroth shoved him away again. And every time he came crawling back when Sephiroth deigned to let him. "The way things were was sufficient. I wasn't trying to stop him or to get him to choose between me and everyone else who stood still long enough to catch his attention." Genesis chugged the remainder of the bottle and slammed it down again, cracking the table. "And now he doesn't fucking remember it, Angeal! He told me to leave, so I did! Now he's mad at me for leaving! That's exactly what he wanted me to do! What else could I do? What was I supposed to do, Angeal? TELL ME!"
Angeal stared at him for several moments. "Is that what... Is that what happened when you talked to him alone?"
Genesis dropped his head into his hands and nodded, pressing his palms into his eyes. He hadn't told anyone. Had barely even admitted it to himself. The past two years had been spent telling himself that he had wanted to leave; the Sephiroth he knew had died in Nibelheim. "He said as long as I didn't bother him anymore, he'd do what we wanted. I never realised he..."
"I'm sorry." Angeal reached out and gently touched his shoulder, but Genesis shrugged him off.
"What's done is done. He's happy now; that's what matters. Don't tell anyone."
"Promise me, Angeal. This never gets out."
"On my honour."