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What Friends are For

By: someonesneaky
folder Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 16
Views: 921
Reviews: 53
Recommended: 1
Currently Reading: 1
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.
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Beyond Lovers

'What Friends are For' Chapter 11: Beyond Lovers
The newlyweds consummate their marriage. [Mmm, lemony goodness. Anal, HJ, Yaoi, WAFF, just a little bit of a D/s overtone]

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By the time we got back to our suite, I found out where all my nervousness went earlier - apparently I was saving it all for that moment. Be damned if I knew why. I was starting to shake like a virgin on her wedding night, and--

--And...

Aw hell, wasn't that what I was? Sure I'd slept with my fair share of women, but all my experiences with men were what I'd done with Vince so far. Sure, he might not have much experience, but he knew a hell of a lot more than I did - he'd proven it more than once. What if I screwed up? What if I disappointed him? I knew I wouldn't, but it was hard to convince myself that.

I think Vince knew I was worried about something. He didn't speak, just kept my hand in his as we walked, then guided me to the bedroom in silence. Once the door was closed behind us, he turned and pulled me into his arms, and kissed me tenderly. His lips held mine, and I felt the soft brush of his tongue tip, as if asking for permission. I was happy to give it, parting my lips with a soft sigh, and he entered to tease the inside of my mouth, gentle and tender as his tongue curled against my own. It almost felt like kissing him for the first time.

His hands moved from my back, over my waist, and to my front, where he untied the belt holding my top closed. Without letting my mouth leave his, he parted the fabric to slip his hands beneath, and I shivered at the contrast between metal and flesh, the soft touch of his fingertips and the slight scratching of his claws. It drew a gasp from me, muffled by his lips, and he made a low pleased sound in response.

The silken fabric slid from my shoulders, and he moved my arms from around him to let the top fall to the ground. His hands moved back up my arms to rest on my shoulders, but he paused there a moment, then pulled back. I was panting slightly when I opened my eyes to look at him. He smiled reassuringly, his flesh hand cupping my cheek as he murmured softly, "Wait."

I nodded, and watched as he stepped away, then removed his own clothing. When I started to do the same, he shook his head with a gesture for me to stay still, and I did. His clothes weren't the only thing to go - with a deft twist of the key, his gauntlet hiss-clicked open, and he slipped it off. No matter how nude he was before, the lack of that metal glove made all the difference. It gave him a presence, an air of danger, even when completely unclothed. Without it, he seemed like just another normal man.

Vince moved back to me, still silent, as was I. His right hand undid my pants and let them slide down my legs, then pushed my boxers down far enough that they followed. He turned and nudged me until I was sitting on the bed, and he was kneeling in front of me. Still working with just one hand, he pulled off my shoes, then the rest of my clothing, before motioning for me to move back until I was laying fully on top of the blanket.

I was shaking a bit, though inside I was feeling more calm. Vince wouldn't hurt me - he loved me too much.

He slid onto the bed next to me, then moved carefully to straddle my thighs once more - I was starting to get used to feeling him sit there. Hell, who wouldn't? Not that I'd want anyone else to, of course. Vince was officially mine now, and be damned if I wasn't gonna get a bit greedy.

Vince's hand moved to my chest - his left one. It moved slowly, the palm trailing over my skin with a soft touch. He traced each one of the marks his claws had made - they were starting to fade now, but they still ached when he pressed on them, enough to make me bite my bottom lip to keep quiet. Despite the slight sting, it felt nice, soothing, even when he paused to run his fingertips in circles around my nipples. I tried to stay still and quiet for him, but it wasn't easy; I had to bite harder to force a moan to become a gasp.

I watched as he did this, and he watched his hand with a strange expression, almost wondering. It wasn't until then that I realized what he was doing. His left hand, the one usually protected by his gauntlet, was feeling me - the hand that, a few days ago, was so tender that the slightest touch was enough to arouse him.

That thought alone was so damn erotic, so damn delicious. In a strange way, it was almost the reverse of the night before; it was my turn to let his attentions comfort and arouse me, which was working quite well. He was forced to go slower than I had - he refused to use his right hand. Yet I didn't mind. Despite where - and how - he touched me before, somehow this seemed much more intimate.

Vince traveled from my chest, over each arm in turn, pausing at the soft skin at the bend of my elbows or to feel the pulse of my wrists; he traced the lines of my palms, then along each separate finger, letting his own skin scrape over my nails. It made him shiver and catch his breath, but he didn't stop; from my arms, he moved back down my chest and to my abdomen. His body shifted to move down, letting his attentions move to my thighs, which I parted for him when he settled between my legs. My erection was aching, needing to be touched, but he ignored it for the moment, torturing me with his inattention.

He moved down one leg with the same agonizing slowness, his familiar fingers drifting from hip to toes; I don't think he missed a single inch of me, though he made me squirm slowly under his fingers, leaving my skin tingling and muscles trembling as his hand passed. And then he did the same with the other leg, in reverse, starting at my toes and working his way upward.

I'd never thought that just being touched could feel so damn good. I'd never had any need for 'sensual', though I could appreciate it when I saw it - and felt it. I was content to let him take his time, though my body tried to convince me otherwise. We had all the time in the world, and I was damn sure going to enjoy it.

All too soon, Vince shifted to my side and coaxed me to turn over by touch alone. I couldn't help but moan when the new position pressed my aching erection into the blanket, though I bit back the sound in time to hear him laugh softly. I almost growled at him.

He straddled my thighs once more, though this time he was far enough up that I could feel his own hardness pressing against my ass as he leaned forward. His wonderful, marvelous hand started at my neck, and began its slow journey downward once more. It wasn't exactly a massage, he never pressed hard enough for that, but I felt like melting into a puddle of Cid right there as he teased along my spine and over my sides. I had my arms folded under my head as a pillow now, gripping them firmly to keep myself still.

I'd forgotten the slight scratches there until he pressed on them, the ones his claw had made when it tore my shirt. They were lighter than the others, almost gone. It felt like ages ago, but it'd been... only three days? Three days... This made the fourth since I told Vince I loved him. It didn't seem possible that time could move that slowly, especially with all that had happened. It felt like we'd been constantly moving, but now... I didn't think I could move a muscle.

Not until Vince ran a fingertip between my ass cheeks and made me gasp, and a particular muscle with a mind of its own twitched between my belly and the mattress. That made me arch slightly, pressing my hips downward with a muffled sound. He did it again a little more firmly, which sent a shudder along my spine as if drawn through the me with his touch. He was teasing me, the bastard, letting his fingers trace up and down my cleft, occasionally going far enough to brush his knuckles over my balls, and oh hell if I could've found my voice, I would have been begging him right then to stop teasing me and do something, because I couldn't stand it anymore.

I didn't know if I'd said that aloud, if he was somehow reading my mind, or if we just both had the same thought at the same time, but that was when he decided to pull away. I didn't know whether to be frustrated or relieved; it gave me a chance to calm down, but I really needed more than teasing. I was on the verge of asking Vince what the hell he was doing back there when something caught my attention, a familiar scent that seemed to travel straight from my nose to my groin.

Bananas.

It was absurd that such a silly flavor could be exciting, but with what Vince had managed to do with it lately, I wasn't at all surprised when it awoke a hunger in me that had nothing to do with my stomach. Vince pressed his right hand against the small of my back, and moved his left back to where it was, easing his fingers between my cheeks. I had to hold my breath and bite into the meaty base of my thumb to keep quiet; it hadn't been long at all since he last did this to me, but I remembered how good it felt - and what it was leading up to this time.

He was just as gentle this time, but firmer, pressing his first two fingers into me steadily until they could go no farther. The slight sting was welcome, though it did nothing to calm my singing nerves. It only got worse when he began to spread and wiggle the two digits, teasing my insides without touching that intense button. It wasn't long before a third was added, pressed close together so he could twist and rock them into me. I felt something that seemed to flow through me like ice water that left me feeling hot and feverish. Every push of his hand moved my hips just enough to brush my cock over the blanket, though there was not nearly enough friction there.

He began to spread his fingers apart, using them to open me, to ready me for him. I couldn't help but wonder, if his fingers felt that good, what would the real thing feel like?

Vince had to have been reading my mind, because the thought had barely flitted past when he pulled his hand away and used his other to turn me over again. The sight of him surprised me; I'd never seen anyone look so full of need and desire, so full of lust. The expression was so unnatural on him that it made him seem exotic, almost alien, and the way he looked at me was so intense I thought it'd sear me to the bone.

He'd wanted me to be still, I knew. But I moved anyway. I drew my legs up, one at a time with my feet still on the blanket, close to my ass, and I let my knees rest parted. My hand lifted, to be offered to him in silent invitation. His expression softened a bit, and I could see his love behind the lust. He took my hand with his right one, and drew it to kiss my fingertips before letting go.

Vince moved between my legs. His right hand tucked under my knee and guided my leg up and back, then gestured for me to do the same with the other. I replaced his grip with my own and held myself open for him. I'd never in my life felt so exposed, so vulnerable, than in that moment. It would've been embarrassing if I hadn't seen the flash of desire return to his eyes when he looked at me. It was enough to make every muscle in my groin twitch, and he smirked when he saw it.

It was almost lewd the way he coated the fingers of his right hand in the slick banana-scented lube, then smeared it along his length. Hell, there was no almost about it - he was practically flaunting the way he stroked himself between my legs as he looked down at me with that slow smile curving his lips and the sheen of lust in his gaze. It was the epitome of arousal, and it was all for me.

He slid over me then, with my lower half resting slightly on his thighs, and lined himself up to press the head of his length at my entrance. Bracing himself with his left hand at my side and the other holding his shaft still, he pressed inward, easing himself into me. I won't say it didn't sting at first, even with the stretching he did, but he knew me well enough to know the brief flash of pain wasn't unwanted when it showed through. I was glad I had to hold my legs for him; it's the only thing that kept me still, kept me from impaling myself on him.

I wanted to close my eyes as he gradually eased himself into me inch by inch, but I couldn't - I was fascinated in the emotions flickering across his face, and the near-glow in his ruby eyes. He'd let go of himself by then, and was holding my hips with both hands as he sheathed himself in my body, settling his hips against my own until he could go no farther. I felt full, complete; what little pain there was had already faded by the time he nestled within me. I didn't want him to move, but I needed him to.

And he did, drawing back slowly, and the feel of him leaving me seemed to create a vacuum that stole my breath and made me whimper. He gave me a reproachful look, and I caught my lip again to try and keep myself quiet. It wasn't easy, as he slid back into me, going so teasingly slow I didn't think I could stand it, barely pausing before pulling away again. I didn't know what I wanted more - for him to hurry, or keep taking his time, because as much as I needed release, I didn't want to lose the feeling of Vince being inside me after waiting so damn long.

I let go of my legs and wrapped them around his waist, then slid my arms around his shoulders. That let me arch my hips up to meet his long, torturously slow movements that left me shuddering each time he pressed fully inward. I was glad he didn't try to discourage me from that; I didn't think I could handle not touching him anymore. I needed to feel him against me too badly.

Part of me was surprised at how easily I went along with the way Vince was guiding me, getting me to do what he wanted - be still, be silent, behave. The thought of doing something he didn't want me to made me fell almost guilty; it was more than not wanting to disappoint him, but I couldn't explain it. The urge to moan was clawing at my throat, but I bit it back desperately, loving the look of approval he gave me at that, which made me wonder what the hell was happening to me.

That train of thought was completely derailed when Vince shifted his hips to grind heavily into me, and he pressed against that thing inside me; it sent an electric shock of pleasure that made me want to scream. And then he did it again, and again, and even when my eyes went unfocused I could see him looking down at me with a slight smirk, watching me writhe beneath him and clutch at his body, trying to urge him to go faster, harder. But he didn't; he eased up instead, and oh gods I thought he was cruel before, but that was nothing like feeling him rock into me with a steady rhythm, teasing over that painfully pleasant button without quite bumping into it.

One hand moved from my waist - his left, the tender one. He wrapped it around my own neglected cock and squeezed. I hissed, arching my hips sharply into his. He moved his grip with the same pace as his thrusts, and every time I reflexively tightened around his gliding member, his fingers would squeeze me, mimicking every action.

I'd never in my life had a reason to use the word 'exquisite', but that was the only one that came to mind at that moment. Especially when he started grinding again, forcing the head of his shaft against that bundle of nerves again, then gently squeezing my own crown at the same time on every stroke. I thought I was going to pass out again; I was clutching at him, probably leaving bruises from how tightly my hands gripped his shoulders.

"Vince, I can't--" I gasped, but I couldn't finish. I didn't know if I was pleading, warning, or demanding. Maybe all three.

"Not yet," he said in a growling voice that made me shudder. He didn't stop what he was doing, didn't even slow. No. It was then that he decided to pick up the pace, driving into me harder, faster, deeper, thrusting against that thing inside me that made every nerve in my body feel like I was being set on fire, his hand following along. I held on somehow, forcing my orgasm back, but be damned if I know how. He wanted me to, that's all that was important, and I focused every bit of my concentration on that one task that was not nearly as easy as it sounded.

Eventually, what little control I had began to slip, and I started whimpering, though I still managed to keep a reign on the sensations rippling through me despite everything Vince was doing. I couldn't last long at all, and he knew. It was too much.

He leaned closer, and just before his lips met mine, he whispered, "Let it go." He kissed me, deep and searing, catching the low unfamiliar sound that came from my throat. I shuddered beneath him, every muscle tense, as I exploded with pleasure, a climax so intense it put everything I'd ever felt before to shame. I clamped down on him as he continued to move within me, relentlessly driving to keep the ecstasy spiraling higher and higher, his hand pumping me dry as it flexed along my cock, now slick with my own cum.

His free arm moved under my waist, pulling me into him as he gave a few quick, hard jabs into me, until he too found his release, and filled me with his seed. I could feel it, hot and liquid, his flesh twitching inside me as mine twitched in his hand, each of us holding the other as if afraid to move; I didn't know if I'd be able to handle it if we did. We laid like that for what felt like forever, panting against each other's mouth, the kiss stalled when we were busy with the sensations moving through us.

Almost as one, we relaxed, and he gave my lips a slow, teasing lick before pulling away. Vince was gentle when he let me go, then withdrew, chuckling quietly at the sound of disappointment I didn't manage to hide. I didn't know it was possible to feel so empty and so satisfied at the same time, leaving me with the most genuine afterglow I'd ever felt.

I couldn't find the energy to protest as Vince slid from the bed, letting my limbs relax. I felt sore, but in a very good way, an all-over ache I knew would fade too soon. I watched him move into the bathroom, then return a moment later with a soft, warm washcloth. He eased back next to me; the cloth felt good as he used it to clean me, and I sighed in delight, closing my eyes. He guided my movements to make sure he got everything, then slipped away once more, only to come back equally clean.

Vince stretched out next out to me, and slid his left arm over my chest, his head resting on my shoulder. I curled that arm around him and pulled him close, sighing in contentment. My head turned enough to nuzzle the top of his head; I could still smell the cinnamon that had seeped into his hair the night before.

"Well?" he murmured quietly. "Was it what you expected?"

I couldn't believe that after what he just did to me, he could still sound like he expected to be a disappointment. It was like a completely different person from the dominating, self-assured man from a few minutes ago. I realized then how deeply he'd been affected by everything that had happened to him in his life. He'd still have a lot of healing to do, but at least now he knew I'd always be there to help him.

I shifted to roll onto my side and pull him against my chest. "Nope," I replied, and tried to ignore the the way his face fell as I kissed his forehead. "Vince, that was the most amazin', earth-shattering experience of my whole damn life. It wasn't what I expected, it was so much better."

He closed his eyes and smiled, easing closer to me. Neither of us spoke after that; the silence was too comfortable. My left arm was being used as his pillow, and my right hand drifted over his back and side, enjoying the way his skin felt under my fingers. His own traced slow circles along the length of my spine, not quite light enough to make me shiver, but it was relaxing - as if I wasn't already on the verge of melting already. I didn't even notice when I eventually dozed off.
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