Mercy for None

BY : Beautifullytwisted
Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 725
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Author: Beautifully Twisted


Title: Mercy for None

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: HojoxVincent

Summary: Hojo returns for Vincent's
kisses, and something more.


He wasn’t sure what was worse: the
uncertainty of when Hojo would return, or the fact that he would return. He had
dreaded that for days now. He knew Hojo would not have forgotten their last
encounter. It was inevitable. He could still feel Hojo’s lips upon his, his
tongue within his mouth, his hands sliding along his face, sliding across his
neck, and shoulders, trailing lower …


He had had
nightmares about those hands. He didn’t want them to touch him, he didn’t want
Hojo to touch him … he hated that touch. It made his skin crawl in revulsion …
he didn’t want it.


Hojo had been
wrong. The tears were still there. They came in slow trickles at the thoughts
plaguing him. He just wanted it to all stop … the nightmares, the horror, the
experiments …


He had collapsed
into his favourite little corner, overwhelmed by the thoughts claiming his mind
… he knew Hojo would return and demand more of what had happened. It terrified
him. He didn’t want it … please anything but this.


A sob tore from
him as he heard the door to the library being unlatched. Hojo had returned. He
huddled into the corner, hoping that he’d simply vanish into the wall. He
didn’t want to be found … he just wanted to cease to exist. Anything would be
better than facing what Hojo had in mind.


‘Valentine, I do
hope my absence didn’t go unnoticed.’ Came the darkly edged voice. ‘I did miss
you greatly.’


‘Hojo …’ Vincent
breathed in the darkness, almost resigned to this fate.


‘Tsk, Valentine.
Leave you all alone and this is the welcome I get? I’d have imagined you to be
more hospitable.’


‘Go away …’


‘Why, Valentine,
wherever are your manners?’ Hojo murmured, stripping off his labcoat and
tossing it into the corner, before stalking over to Vincent’s huddled form.
Kneeling beside him, he cupped Vincent’s chin and gazed into his eyes. ‘I
suppose you have no manners now … such a pity.’ He stroked his hand along his
cheek. ‘Such a pity … such a waste of beauty … such a waste of existence. All
alone, with no one to even care.’ He kissed Vincent’s lips.


whimpered in protest, pushing against him.


‘Yes, you saved
those kisses for me.’ He kissed Vincent harder, sliding his tongue into his


‘Noo … please …
no. Hojo …’ Vincent pushed him off abruptly, quickly scurrying away.


He grabbed
Vincent, and pushed him against the wall. ‘Valentine … there’s no need to


‘Please …’


‘Shh … quiet.’
He brushed his hand soothingly along Vincent’s cheek, stroking the contours and
curves while his other hand moved lower to grasp Vincent’s right wrist,
gripping it tightly and pulling him upwards. He cried out, and tried to wrench
his wrist away.


‘Hojo … no …’


‘Shh … shh …’ He
kissed Vincent’s cheek gently.




Hojo stopped,
and stared into Vincent’s eyes. ‘Please?’


‘Don’t do this.’
All pride gone, he begged.


‘I’m afraid you
are in no position to make requests.’


A tear slipped
from scarlet eyes. It was hopeless; there was nothing he could do now. Hojo
would take what he wanted.


‘Please …’ He
whimpered even as Hojo latched his wrists together and shoved him forward onto
the desk. His mind swam. Unable to fight him off, and yet unwilling to succumb,
Vincent felt nauseous.


‘So beautiful,
Valentine.’ He lifted the dark strands from the nape of Vincent’s neck, and
pressed a kiss to it.


‘Please … Hojo,
please …’


‘Shh …’ He
nipped lightly at the skin, drawing his teeth along its smoothness. His kisses
continued, as his hand slowly slid along Vincent’s chest, trailing lower.


‘Don’t …’ The
protest was futile, this he knew.


With a smirk, he
slid his hand into Vincent’s pants causing him to cry out sharply in terror.
All his fears had materialized into a waking nightmare. Those hands that had
pulled that trigger, and taken his life … those same hands that had mutilated
his body, stolen his mortality and humanity … those hands were now touching
him. He fought back the urge to vomit as Hojo deftly stroked him. His mind
could barely wrap around the horror of this act. It was so wrong … so
unnatural. The man who had taken away his life now sought to take pleasure from
him. He was being violated by someone who had sworn to destroy his humanity.


‘No … stop …
please, god … stop …’ His pleas went unnoticed, as Hojo shoved Vincent’s pants
down, and parted his legs. He had known this was coming, but he hadn’t willingly
acknowledged its reality. He continued to plead with this man, begging him to
spare him from this humiliation. He would do anything … please, God … anything
but this. He felt Hojo probe his entrance. So degrading … he was nothing more
than a fuck toy, a means of pleasure … a whore for taking. And he sobbed at
that knowledge.


Hojo pinned him
against the desk, whispering darkly. ‘No one can hear you, Valentine. No one
cares … to the world, you are dead.’


Though his
tears, he nodded weakly in agreement. There was no one to save him. No one
cared … he was dead. What was the point in even fighting?


The abrupt pain
of penetration renewed his struggle. He thrashed best he could against his
assailant, who let out deep m of of pleasure with each movement. He thrust
further into Vincent’s body, drawing out a harsh shriek. Surely Vincent was in
pain. He had wanted it this way. He had wanted to take pleasure from pain, to
watch Vincent thrash about whilst he thrust into that delicious tightness.


Hojo’s moans
mingled with Vincent’s cries, as he moved deeper within, thrusting harder,
driving fast, tearing sobs from Vincent’s throat. ‘Your screams are quite
thrilling, Valentine.’


At these words,
he went limp, allowing Hojo to do what he pleased. It was pointless to
struggle. He was a whore, used, only to be discarded rwarrwards in the gutter.
He was nothing. And whatever might have been left of his shattered heart,
turned to dust with each thrust. He had lost everything now, his dignity, and
his purity. He was a whore, and it hurt to acknowledge that. The physical and
emotional pain was intertwined now, tearing at his being, destroying whatever
he had managed to hold on to. It hurt so much now, he felt as though he had
fallen into a dark abyss of torment, as he felt the remnants of his very being
ripped away from him. And it sickened him to know that Hojo was taking such
pleasure in this, but it was no more than he deserved.


‘Tsk, I rather
enjoyed your protests. As I said, they made it all seem rather thrilling.
Taking you this way.’ He thrust roughly, causing Vincent to whimper brokenly as
he felt some delicate membrane tear and the rush of blood.


‘Stop … please …
I beg you …’ He sobbed, the pain becoming too great. He felt like he was being
ripped in two with each thrust. Surely Hojo knew this … surely if he had any
pity he would stop …

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