Adult-FanFiction.org : Final Fantasy

Blonde Ambition	By : sephcounttheways Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2097 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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.

Chapter List
- 15
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- 17
Cloud opened his eyes slowly, but didn’t move.

Couldn’t, actually.

Sephiroth’s full weight wrapped around him like a warm pretzel in the orange, late evening light. Cloud was completely trapped, but couldn’t have thought of a single place he’d want to escape to. He slowly flexed his hands, finding one completely buried in the glossy silver hair at the nape of Sephiroth’s neck, the other loosely cupped a hard, muscular shoulder. Cloud’s eyes drifted closed to avoid the temptation to squeeze, cuddle, and ultimately awaken the sleeping angel.

There was a gentle, rhythmic pulse to the man that nearly dragged Cloud down into slumber along with him. His breath came slow and deep, and even though Cloud didn’t want to move to look, he could tell Sephiroth’s lips were slightly parted against his neck, sending hot, moist puffs of air tickling across his skin.

The sound was the best part, though. The soft, deep respirations were so innocent sounding, almost boyish, the carefree quality of it ensuring sweet dreams.

Whenever Cloud had dreamt of Sephiroth, it had been one of two themes; sex or adventure. In the more erotic variety, it was all smoke and sensual shadows, slow motion and echoed, wordless vocalizations. Basically, everything that sex with Sephiroth wasn’t, but was far more picturesque than their clumsy, noisy couplings.

Although Cloud hadn’t actually begun having sexual dreams about Sephiroth until they had actually had sex, it had been occurring with such a frequency that he had taken to sleeping with two comforters in order to mask any early morning evidence from Cam’s eyes. His best friend hadn’t actually said or pointed anything out, but once – and only once! – Cloud stood up from bed without checking his situation out first, and saw Cam’s brown eyes widen, blink in shock, then turn quickly back to his early morning reading of Sense and Sensibility. Cloud looked down to find a furious hard on staring back up at him through his sweats, and had scuttled into the bathroom with a loud yawn, trying to sound casual.

But Cameron Wedge was far from a saint, as he tended to inhale sharply and dramatically when he beat off in the shower. Not that Cloud was exactly listening or anything… it was just easy to hear, what with the water pressure being only a generous trickle and all. But for the sake of peaceful cohabitation, neither spoke of any mishaps, and both treaded carefully and said little to each other between the hours of ten and five.

But when Cloud didn’t awaken hot and bothered from his artistic and serious sexual fantasies, he was emblazoned to train for SOLDIER from visions of action packed heroism. Usually these dreams were linear and corny, but Cloud almost preferred them, and had begun to think of them as episodes of the "Seph and Cloud Show”. They would usually begin like one of the more sexual dreams, kisses and sensations and Sephiroth’s hands running over him, but then suddenly there would be a loud cell phone chime, or perhaps a knock at the door, or once, a bird through the window with a message tied to its foot.

Danger, General Sephiroth and First Class SOLDIER Cloud Strife! A community in distress from a monster! A brutal assault about to take place on an innocent woman! A bank robbery in progress! A child trapped in a burning building! A sinking freight ship full of puppies and kittens!

Sephiroth would give Cloud one last brief kiss before they would spring into action. From then on out it was all business between the two of them; uniforms were donned and weapons were strapped on, and together they would head out to defend the innocent in Sephiroth’s tank – which in his dreams always had a large, functional machine gun on top.

There was always a struggle, always a challenge. Sometimes Sephiroth would limit break – which he had quite famously never done in real life. But Cloud’s mind ridiculously created a limit for Sephiroth, in which he had nothing on but a pair of pants.

Cloud’s own limit was that he became an older, much taller, and far more dashing version of himself that usually stuck around for the victory sex if he got to sleep long enough to enjoy it.

Cloud smirked at all of his musings, breathing in the sugary scent of his dear and relaxing back into the mattress, letting his body go boneless. His eyelids fluttered down to get what sleep they could underneath his beloved, when he noticed something.

Sephiroth’s long fingered hand was curled in a lazy, relaxed pile next to Cloud on the pillow. Cloud waited with his breath held soft and slow, and it happened again; one by one, Sephiroth’s fingers all cascaded into his palm, only to slowly stretch back out in a gracefully jointed wave.

Jazz fingers, Cloud thought to himself, wide awake with the humor of it.

Then he recalled seeing something like that being done in the materia casting lessons that went on near his hand to hand period. He always saw a lot of that motion going on for the beginners, but the more advanced could cast without moving their hands at all, unless it was a really, really big one. The day they were learning lightning strikes was the day Cloud gave up on dignity, as he couldn’t help but squeak at every loud, startling pop of electricity. He surely thought he’d receive hazing for his transgressions, but his class all simply cooed and aww’d at every startled little cry.

He smiled as Sephiroth’s hand waved again, and wondered if he was dreaming up his own version of the Seph and Cloud Show, maybe saving Midgar from some terrible monster before hauling them both back to bed?

Cloud couldn’t stand it anymore, he moved. It was slow and careful, but he slid his hand out of Sephiroth’s hair and wrapped the arm around his shoulders, hugging him gently.

One would have thought it was a crushing blow with the way Sephiroth jolted. His eyes ripped open and he shot up to his elbows, not looking down at Cloud, but behind himself.

Cloud froze. When Sephiroth turned back to look at him, it was annoyance that settled over his features, though his pupils were skinny slivers of black, flooded by electric green.

“Sorry…I needed to move,” Cloud whispered the half lie with a dry, sleep husky voice and smiled a little, hoping to alleviate that look of startled annoyance.

Sephiroth laid back down on top of him, his forehead settling back against Cloud’s jaw, and growled softly, “S’okay.”

They were both quiet for a long while, Cloud lying still beneath Sephiroth’s body. When the man finally spoke, it was slightly jarring, “Best pillow ever.”

Cloud smiled, melting, free to hug and curl his legs around him, and in turn, Sephiroth’s body vined tighter around his.

“Baby…” Sephiroth sighed.

“I love you…” Cloud whispered.

Sephiroth’s stomach decided in that tender moment to answer for him, growling so loudly that Cloud actually felt the vibration against his own. He furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief and peered down at his taller lover over the bridge of his nose.

Sephiroth didn’t move or open his eyes, but stated the obvious, “M’hungry.”

“Wanna go somewhere?” Cloud asked, rubbing his palms across Sephiroth’s soft shoulders.

“Mm-mm. Don’t wanna get dressed,” Sephiroth murmured against Cloud’s neck, still unmoving, “Pizza?”

“I’ll never get ripped that way,” Cloud sighed, plucking at the layer of baby fat still clinging to his abdomen that only he could see.

Sephiroth knew from experience that complimenting Cloud would only beget high pitched squeals of denial, so he instead said, “I am, and I eat pizza all the time.”

Cloud mewed. “You must be a freak of nature, then.”

Sephiroth smiled as Cloud giggled softly at his own jest, trying not to take the offhand comment to heart. Instead, his stomach gargled impatiently, dipping down into eerie, demanding tones. Slowly, as if he weighed five thousand pounds, Sephiroth raised up onto one elbow, peering down at Cloud from beneath heavy lids, “I’m the freak?…You talk in your sleep.”

Cloud tilted his head against the pillow. “…I do?”

“A lot,” Sephiroth smirked, and made a move to push his hips against Cloud’s when his lazy look of haughtiness melted down into one of mild concern.

They both looked down to where their bodies lay flat, skin to skin. Some of it was smooth, some of it was covered in trim pubic hair, and all of it was completely glued together by gummily dried, crusted semen.

“Shit,” they both whispered simultaneously.

Sephiroth frowned. “…We should do this quick.”

Cloud shook his head side to side. “No!”

“Slower is worse,” Sephiroth argued.

Cloud pointed to the bathroom. “We roll off the bed, then you pick me up, and we get into the shower. The water’ll loosen it up, yeah?”

Sephiroth smiled, and mimicked the way Cloud spoke. “Warteh?”

Cloud rolled his eyes, as this was not the time for discrimination. “It’s an idea though, right?”

“We’ll fall apart before we get there. Might as well just get it over with,” Sephiroth then slowly, like a cat about to attack, got up to his elbows and knees.

Cloud moaned miserably. “Oh, Seph! Dooon’t!”

Sephiroth tested things out by pulling his hips up gently, and Cloud could actually see his skin lift up away from his body. Delicate skin. Very, very delicate skin. “…Seeeph…”

“One...” Sephiroth counted dangerously.

“Nooo!”

“Two...”

Cloud covered his eyes with his hands.

Instead of saying three, Sephiroth disengaged himself. There was a fleshy rip of skin, a sharp yank of hair, and a lightning strike of pure pain before the room was filled with sounds of male agony.

“Mother fuck!” Sephiroth swore and laughed involuntarily as he rolled onto his back, clutching himself with both hands as if he had been brutally kicked in the groin. It was every man’s weakness, even the General’s.

“Mary and Joseph!” Cloud cackled in response, his face scrunched into a sour scowl as he curled into the fetal position.

After the moment of ripped pain passed, they turned back towards each other to laugh at the other’s reddened and abused genitals, then quickly made good on Cloud’s suggestion to shower, scrubbing off the evidence of their lovemaking and subsequent pain. There was some minor groping involved, as both were frisky males who knew no shame, but Sephiroth’s hunger had transferred to Cloud, and both needed sustenance.

Sephiroth said he was in the mood for seafood, and decided to make the sacrifice of putting on clothes in order to obtain it.

Cloud supervised, choosing a pair of fabulously tight jeans and a faded Touch Society shirt for him to wear underneath a fetching light gray blazer. Sephiroth briefly modeled, allowing him to administer a proper tushy squeeze. Cloud then pulled on his recently made infamous tight girls’ acid wash jeans. The first time he had worn them on campus, it had all but caused mass hysteria, as he was gawked and laughed at wherever he went. When they were zipped and hugging his hips, Sephiroth even gave him a long once over with his eyes and snorted a laugh.

Whatever! He loved them, therefore nobody else on Earth knew anything about fashion, and that was that.

With a plain black jacket over his bare chest and his favorite retro yellow Nikes with no socks, Cloud was ready for their quick roll through the drive-thru of Johnny B. Crabcakes’.

However, to Cloud’s astonishment, Sephiroth passed up the fast food chain and took him to the sort of upscale, fancy restaurant that people on real, live dates go to!

Valet, white table cloths, soft candle light, delicate china and utensils and wine glasses, tiny black menus, and a snooty staff all practically begging to kiss Sephiroth’s VIP ass. It was all very unexpected, especially considering the fact that Sephiroth had allowed him to walk out the door looking like a crackhead!

Cloud’s chest was filled with humiliation, and even though it would have taken a crowbar to get the acid wash jeans off of his body if Sephiroth had made the effort to tell him to dress more conservatively, his brain screamed that he’d never forgive his lover.

Since they were General Sephiroth and some kid, they were seated immediately and without question to their attire. Everyone else in the place however, had donned their finest ‘I’m-rich-and-probably-getting-some-ass-tonight’ suits and skirts.

“You could have told me we were coming here!” Cloud hissed after Sephiroth ordered coffee and he himself demanded a cocktail to calm his nerves.

“Did you wanna go somewhere else?” He replied innocently.

Cloud threw up his hands, and the gesture was so completely harsh in such a dainty atmosphere, he caught his own hands mid wave and drew them in to his chest, looking around in panic that someone may have noticed, “It’s not that... I feel like fucking Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman!”

“Who?”

“I am severely under dressed!”

Sephiroth’s expression gave way to absolutely no indulgence, he merely stated serious fact. “You’re beautiful.”

Cloud shut up, and after a moment, he came to the realization that the entire restaurant wasn’t gawking at him and his attire in horror. He was with Sephiroth of all people… and it really did feel like he couldn’t have cared less what Cloud wore. Just like he didn’t care that Cloud was a hot mess when he took him to work earlier that day. Or that he embarrassed himself often. Or that he was absolutely imperfect.

And knowing all that, the most wonderful man on Earth had just told him that he was beautiful, and really meant it. Added to that the fact that he had also told everyone else who would listen… Cloud was humbled beyond comprehension. And at the very same time, lifted up to a whole new stratosphere of self assurance.

Cloud leaned forward a little, all of his inner turbulence kept as a guarded secret, and he instead dripping with thick, sarcastic disbelief said, “If you say so.”

Sephiroth just smiled at the little games Cloud liked to play.

As for food, Cloud decided to let Sephiroth order for him, as he couldn’t bring himself to choose anything off of the ridiculously expensive menu. Sephiroth ordered them both a fondue spread to share, so Cloud could eat whatever he wanted, and he could down the rest. They brought out a huge tray full of different types of raw, naked little shellfish, and four tall ceramic bowls of sauces, each complete with a little burning coal beneath it. Cloud then watched in complete wonder as the waitress lit a fire in an oven on the wall next to their table.

“So what should I do first?” Cloud asked when she left.

Sephiroth picked up a stick, stabbed one of the defenseless little nude shellfish corpses, and held it over the fire. “You cook it. Or if you like it raw, you don’t have to.”

After a few moments he was satisfied, and then submerged the little clam into one of the sauces. “Then you dip it.”

How that was more or less disturbing than haggis, Cloud would never know. But he found that he greatly enjoyed clams and marinara sauce together. Sephiroth liked the scallops and the thick garlic butter.

“Would you like another drink, sir?” the waitress asked Cloud, just as he found the bottom of his second fruity little cocktail.

“Oooh!” Cloud cooed at Sephiroth.

“No,” he answered firmly. “Two is enough.”

“But this one sounds so good, it has pineapple in it!” Cloud tilted his head behind the drink menu. “It’s called a Leg Spreader...”

“...Bring him one,” Sephiroth told the waitress.

The one, tiny blot of negativity to the evening was when the waitress flirted with Sephiroth by saying this to Cloud: “It must be really amazing to work with someone like General Sephiroth, huh?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cloud had slowly agreed, not sure what else to say.

“No,” Sephiroth had immediately risen up from a cup of espresso to correct. “He doesn’t work with me. Not yet, anyways. He’s my partner.”

She did not compute, “Well… how can he not work with you if he’s your partner?”

Cloud had straightened up a little bit in his chair, emboldened by Sephiroth’s declaration of partnerdom. “We’re together.”

Something seemed to be broken in her head, and she mused, “Oh... so... you’re family!”

“No! He’s my boyfriend!” Cloud corrected with a fluster, and as fate would have it, someone dropped a tray at the operative word, and after a little murmur from the restaurant in response, she turned back to them with a smile.

“So General Sephiroth’s your brother? That’s wonderful!”

“We’re not related!” Cloud sighed, his smile still polite but ripe with exasperation. “We’re... lovers.”

“...Lovers of what?”

“Um... each other?” Cloud shrugged, and the woman stood there practically scratching her head.

“What’s your first language?” Sephiroth asked suddenly and incredulously, his annoyance evident. “We are in a relationship. The kind where you fuck.”

Cloud had to bite his tongue almost to bleeding to keep quiet, restraining his bawl of embarrassment, and his squeal of jubilation. She proved herself to be smarter than they thought, and decided not to try and rebound from her taboo, but instead quickly bowed out, then returned with an overly gracious, ‘please-remember-to-tip-me’ visit from the desert cart. Sephiroth didn’t even hesitate to snatch a bowl of cheesecake chunks and chocolate for dipping.

“You’re allowed to be rude to people, ya know,” Sephiroth told him as he greedily consumed the cheesecake. “There’s not a goddamn thing anyone can do to you. Even if they wanted to.”

Cloud had sighed softly, hearing the echo of Rufus’ words as he poked at the cheesecake that Sephiroth shrewdly allotted him. “I guess I just don’t want to like... I dunno. Disgrace you or something.”

“Cloud, people don’t know who I am because I’m a gentleman. They know me because... I’m... I...”

Sephiroth trailed off, an air of what might have been described as an extremely profound melancholy surrounding him. Cloud regarded him in completely unveiled concern; the man looked like he had a million thoughts racing through his memories. Sephiroth opened his mouth, and Cloud was wild to know what he was about to say.

Sephiroth didn’t say anything. He fucking sneezed.

“...Bless you!” Cloud sighed with relief.

After sniffing, he chuckled without the merest hint of angst, continuing, “I’m well known because I kicked ass in the war, and then they accidentally made me the General.”

Cloud smiled. “Accidentally, huh?”

“Total accident.”

Cloud gave him a disbelieving grin. “Seph… you probably act differently when you’re not with me. Don’t you?”

Sephiroth hummed, “I don’t think that’s too uncommon. You probably act a little different at school, right?”

Cloud thought about it, then nodded in agreement. “Somewhat. But probably not as different as you. I mean, people really, truly respect you.”

“You sayin’ you don’t?”

Cloud laughed a little. “Of course I do! But being who you are… you probably have to be pretty guarded most of the time, right?”

Sephiroth nodded in agreement. “You’ve just gotten to know my personal side… probably too soon, but what can ya do? I can’t help it, you’ve always made me comfortable. It’s what attracted me to you.”

Cloud’s mind was reeling with such a sudden, romantic notion. “...Really?”

“Well, besides the fact that you’re sexy as hell,” Sephiroth smiled, staring at nothing in particular in the air between them. “...Did I ever tell you that I hate bein’ touched?”

Cloud’s eyes went wide. “...You do?”

“I can’t stand it. Friends are okay, but even then sometimes it, I dunno… stings,” Sephiroth smiled widely. “’Member at the Halloween party, when Max was dressed up as me? You noticed first, and said somethin’ like, ‘Holy shit, he’s you!’”

Cloud laughed at Sephiroth’s ultra fey Nibelheim-accented impression of him, unknowingly sounding exactly like it, “Yeah!”

“When you said that, you grabbed me. Nothin’ special, just somethin’ like this.” He leaned across the table and gently gripped Cloud’s forearm, a casual gesture made romantic by the atmosphere. Sephiroth smiled and continued, “…I didn’t think much of it... until you went like this…” And then Sephiroth loosened his grip until the touch was only fingertips, then slid them off of Cloud’s arm, leaving behind a tingle of ticklish sensation. “…You gave me goosebumps.”

Cloud blushed right down to his toes. “I did?”

Sephiroth smirked his affirmation. “After that, you musta thought it was okay to touch me, because you kept doin’ it. You’d bump me and nudge me...” Sephiroth lowered his volume just enough to introduce a tiny rumble in his voice. “You don’t know how bad I wanted you that night, do you?”

Cloud giggled bashfully. “Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“I’m tellin’ you now.”

Cloud grinned like a maniac, his eyes dropping down as he fidgeted with the napkin in his lap. When he glanced back up, he found Sephiroth watching him with a lazy sort of adoration.

Cloud returned the gaze. “I wanna be the only one.”

“Keep it up, and you will be,” Sephiroth told him. Although the statement might have been terribly condescending, it hit Cloud’s ears with nothing but warmth and sincerity, the candlelight only amplifying Sephiroth’s rapidly developing powers of heart stopping seduction. And maybe the haughty, conceited nature of the words only amplified that. Either way, Cloud’s boyfriend had him drooling.

He licked his lips. “...Can nobody else touch your hair?”

“You got it. I’d ask the same, but I don’t think it’s possible for people to not touch that,” he smiled, his eyes roaming over Cloud’s yellow rat's nest of tresses.

Cloud giggled, patting at it. “They’d just touch it more if I asked them not to.”

As the evening came to a drifting close, Sephiroth hadn’t left a scrap of food anywhere in sight, and he almost sadly swirled around the avocado sauce, having nothing left with which to dip.

Cloud couldn’t resist, “…Fatass.

“Hey!” Sephiroth jolted in a near perfect rendition of true offense. “Just because Zack calls me that, don’t think you can.”

Cloud couldn’t hide his delight at finding an actual button to push. “But I want to! It’s fun!”

“Then I’ma call you my little Chihuahua...” Sephiroth threatened darkly, then actually jumped in his seat a little bit when he felt a small foot slide up against the inside of his calf.

“Then I’ll hump your leg like one...” Cloud murmured, leaning backwards in his seat a bit to stretch his leg further up into Sephiroth’s lap.

Cloud sucked in air as Sephiroth caught his sneaker and yanked it, jerking Cloud forward into the table with a loud, but brief scrape of his chair across the stone floor.

“...I might be into that.” Sephiroth smiled, sliding his fingers up inside Cloud’s jeans, his fingers tickling along up to the backside of his knee.

“Check please!” Cloud squeaked.

By the time the check came, they had cooled their respective jets a little bit. Sephiroth paid, tipped generously, and they waited outside for the valet.

It was rather frigid out, and the crisp air fully extinguished any leftover heat from their under the table flirtation. Sephiroth faced Cloud and pulled him close, taking his smaller hands and tucking them into his coat pockets.

And by some miracle, in the huge city of Midgar, on the curb in front of that fondue restaurant, Sephiroth and Cloud had found a pocket of perfect silence. There was no sound at all, and no movement anywhere, only the smell of ice and cold, amplified by their altitude and pushing it into their lungs with the sea side humidity.

They both paused. Cloud could feel those glowing green eyes fixed on him, although he didn’t look back. He kept his own eyes focused on the galaxy that surrounded them, reminding himself visually that he was still just a gay little speck in the grand, silent scheme of things.

Then, it began to snow.

Cloud’s focus plummeted back to Earth. Midgar, Upper Plate, the fondue restaurant, the valet lot, next to Sephiroth, his hands in Sephiroth’s pockets, their fingers twisted together.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or the never ending soundtrack in his head, but to Cloud, it all felt so... heavy and beautiful.

“I love you,” Cloud said quietly.

Sephiroth chewed mentally for a few seconds before softly asking, “…What’s that mean?”

Cloud smirked, “It means I value you.”

“No...” Sephiroth said with a gentle roll of his eyes, caressing scabby, yet soft knuckles under the veil of his pocket.

“We’re good for each other. And… ‘I love you’ means that I know it.”

Sephiroth seemed incredibly pleased with that explanation. “I don’t think you know how good you are for me, baby.”

Cloud nodded his head, his hands leaving Sephiroth’s pockets to pull at his forearms. The action was oddly dominant as he urged him close and engulfed his waist with long, wiry arms. Cloud hugged Sephiroth with one hand high between his shoulder blades, the other curved around his hips.

Sephiroth had to admit to himself that he was absolutely smitten.

So... why not say it? Why not? It was the truth, afterall.

“Cloud, I...” Then Sephiroth’s guts froze in a sharp terror that had nothing to do with the outside temperature. Cloud’s small, delicately handsome face turned up to him in casual curiosity, his eyes blinking and his head tilting. Then Sephiroth exhaled a little as his eyes caught his overly conspicuous tank roll around the corner, maybe even a little in relief. Standing out in the cold suddenly didn’t feel at all like the place or time to tell this beautiful creature in proper verbs that he was ultimately cherished.

As much as he adored Cloud, Sephiroth was far too selfish with his emotions to simply blurt it.

When they arrived back at Sephiroth’s loft, there was little to say in way of words. Sephiroth’s body was thrumming with energy, and Cloud’s blood was spiked with alcohol, an erection starkly obvious on his thigh before they had even made it through the front door. It was an invitation Sephiroth would not refuse.

Cloud was still interested in being on top, and took Sephiroth’s lap again after a slap dash application of lubricant, only this time he crawled around to face away from him.

He cast his blue eyes over his shoulder to see if it was acceptable, and Sephiroth answered by pulling him close, encasing him in his arms and aligning their bodies before nudging gently inside, letting Cloud sink down the rest of the way.

Sephiroth’s favorite parts of Cloud were replaced with a completely different set of favorite parts. The lines of his narrow back, his rounded ass rolling fluidly up and down, the bottoms of his feet and his cute toes wiggled and curled of their own accord.

They were by no means masters at the art of lovemaking, but they could both tell that things were definitely improving. Cloud was more at ease with the feeling of taking in Sephiroth; he was relaxed, open, and experiencing only the faintest of stretching pains, which was buffered almost completely out by those maddening spikes of pleasure.

And Sephiroth was now well used to have his cock strangled by Cloud’s body, and having already been thoroughly satisfied that afternoon, he wasn’t feeling that burning urge for release and was far more interested in his lover’s body.

Sephiroth buried his face in Cloud’s yellow hair and hugged him close, running his hands over every inch of him, from his lips to his toes and back again. Finally, after lingering down the trail of his flexing, taut abdomen, Sephiroth’s fingers made their way to that shockingly long erection between his legs.

Cloud seemed to go out of his skin at the contact, throwing his head back to lean heavily against Sephiroth’s shoulder. Sephiroth realized that he had been so preoccupied with getting acquainted with the "ins and outs" of how to make love to Cloud, that he rarely if ever had given release to him, always simply expecting him to handle himself when the time was appropriate.

That wasn’t congruent with the sort of lover Sephiroth wanted to be.

Especially since in all truthfulness, Sephiroth absolutely adored Cloud's cock, craved the husky noises he made, delighted in the little twitches of his hips and the pretty blushes of his cheeks. He felt much more lust for Cloud's male body than he ever expected to when he first flirted with the notions of homosexuality in his mind, but it was too perfect a fit in every single way. Cloud was so utterly sexy, so cat-like and naturally rhythmic... Sephiroth wondered if he had anything to offer the lovely creature besides a thick cock, and the ability to pilot it.

Then Sephiroth thought to his own natural abilities, his unlearned but somehow mastered talents. There were a lot of things he could do and was good at, and he wondered how he might apply them in bed.

He trapped Cloud in his muscled, vine-like arms, stilling his bouncing a little bit, “Slow down for a sec, I wanna try somethin’...”

“What?” Cloud breathed, looking back over his shoulder as those arms loosened around him and instead held onto his hips.

“I think I might be flexible,” was the only warning Sephiroth gave before he took one of Cloud’s arms and bent his head underneath it. Cloud wrapped it around Sephiroth’s neck in mild confusion which gave way to panic when Sephiroth’s hair spilled across his lap, and he ducked his head down lower than should have been anatomically possible.

The man bent himself in fucking half, and before Cloud could begin to register why, his cock was swirled by the softness of Sephiroth’s tongue before becoming engulfed in the heat of his mouth.

“Seph!” Cloud gasped as he went still in Sephiroth’s lap for fear of choking or otherwise hurting his beloved.

Sephiroth somehow managed to buck his hips restlessly, his fingers kneading into Cloud’s thighs, telling him without words to continue. Cloud hesitantly did, but quickly shed that hesitance as he lost himself in the very rare sensations of being fucked and sucked – sensations only porn stars or swingers know. With every lift of his hips, he was driving his cock deeper down his beloved's throat, and every time he moved them back down, his intensely sensitive spot within was caressed by the leaking, wet head of Sephiroth's erection. Cloud gave up all pretenses; he was squeaking, mewling and growling as if they were fucking in outer space and nobody was there to hear him scream.

Sephiroth wasn’t finding great difficulty in his position at all, any discomfort well worth the absolutely fucking priceless sound effects he was being treated to. He even had the moxie to tease, speeding up only to slow down and just barely rake his deadly teeth across the sensitive bridge of the swollen head in his mouth.

Cloud just about lost control of himself with that tickling sharpness, kneading his hands into Sephiroth’s hair and his working shoulders, watching the muscles in his back shift beneath his skin. And even through his escalating haze of noisy passion, Cloud put his hand flat on one of Sephiroth’s shoulder blades in concern.

It looked different than the other one, bigger somehow. He could have sworn he felt something moving beneath his hand that wasn’t in sync with the other, rolling muscles of his back. Cloud rubbed it with a slight tsk, chalking it up to the extremely odd angle of his lover’s body, and hoping it wasn’t a kink that was developing at his expense.

When Cloud’s cock became rigid and slightly salty in his mouth, Sephiroth came up from his self imposed position with a small, involuntary gasp. Cloud’s head turned to catch his wet, reddened lips in a kiss, but Sephiroth only gave into the tenderness for a restless moment. He wrapped one arm like a corded seatbelt around Cloud and gripped his cock with the other, driving his hips up off the bed to meet Cloud’s as he pumped his fist in time.

It all felt so profoundly good that it was jarring when Sephiroth adjusted them both with the slightest of thoughtful hesitations, probably just to get a more secure grip on him. But still, Cloud suddenly became horrified of the concept of him stopping, or slowing, or doing anything to veer him off of the straight and narrow path to gratification. “Seph! Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Please!”

Sephiroth was all too happy to supply the demand, never faltering on their perfect balance of thrusting and grinding, but murmured against the nape of his neck, “If I fuck you hard… ya gonna come for me?”

Cloud all but screamed his affirmative.

And to his horror, Sephiroth slowed to a softly punctuated thrusting against Cloud’s desperately squirming ass, and gripped his cock in a hot, tight hand, but provided no friction. “I dunno if I should, then… I kinda like fuckin’ your ass… I dunno if I wanna stop so soon.”

If Cloud was teetering on the very edge before this teasing began, he was now hanging onto sanity by a single thread. He hadn’t the will to even scream, every single one of his nerves was zeroed in on every slight kiss of Sephiroth’s cock against his sweet spot, and his begging came out on a slight whisper, “…Please, Seph? M’so close… please?”

Sephiroth gathered Cloud up as he lifted to his knees on the mattress, and having greater range of motion, and began to give him exactly what he wanted. Cloud turned his head to cry out in approval, and it put his ear against Sephiroth’s mouth.

The sorts of things that were growling out weren’t things that made sense outside of the hectic moment. Some flew right under the radar, until Sephiroth pressed his lips tightly to Cloud’s ear to ask, “…Whose pretty little ass is this?”

Cloud had to smile, and growled shyly, “Yours…”

“Mine?” Sephiroth asked coyly, a deep moan sliding out against his greater will.

“Yeah..!” Cloud gasped, hands and heat yanking him hard towards his end. “All yours…”

“Fuckin’ yes it is,” Sephiroth agreed whole heartedly, hissing as his cock thrummed in response to acknowledged ownership of the hot, gripping wetness it craved.

Cloud quickly became an arching, mewling rag doll in his arms, helplessly climaxing in response to the hot breath and gruff, dirty little words of encouragement. Sephiroth followed suit before Cloud was even done spilling himself, gripping Cloud’s thighs and hauling his boneless form up and down manually through his own finish. When ecstasy was done roaring through his system, Sephiroth clutched at the panting boy in his lap, nuzzling against the small ear he had moments ago been nipping and growling obscenities into.

Cloud’s hand lazily lifted and gripped the back of Sephiroth’s head. He turned his head to the side, revealing the heated blush of his cheeks and a wide lazy smile, and pulled him in for a tender kiss that cleared Sephiroth’s conscience of any potential sexual wrongdoing.

After immediately cleaning up to avoid becoming glued together again, they had lazily fallen into a fit of cuddling, too relaxed to even think about remaining upright. Cloud hugged Sephiroth securely from behind, taking care to check his shoulder. It looked normal, but he placed a kiss over the area anyways, pressing his cheek to the older man’s shockingly baby soft skin, nuzzling happily.

Sephiroth gave an audible sigh and threw a leg back over Cloud’s, tugging him ever closer.

“You think you might be flexible...?” Cloud whispered into the back of his hair.

“Just you wait…” Sephiroth mumbled back, his voice thick and heavy with sleepy contentment.

Cloud was hovering over sleep, idly smoothing down Sephiroth’s hair which had dried to his face with cooling sweat, when he was stricken with a terrible thought, “Ugh, Seph… do you work tomorrow morning?”

“No, but later on tomorrow,” Sephiroth had said into the pillow. “Stay?”

Cloud had burrowed in, happily spooning Sephiroth as if he was a large stuffed animal. And much to the chronically sleepy General’s very slight annoyance, Cloud began to cheerfully chatter away behind him about school and his friends, the topic of conversation hovering briefly around Christmas.

Cloud had two days off of school plus the weekend, not nearly enough time to justify a full day of land travel to Nibelheim. And the thought of riding in an airplane made him want to vomit forever. So, he was going to spend the holiday on campus. Alone.

Cam and Psycho were going home for the time off, as were many of the other students who were from neighboring lands. Cloud noticed that not a lot of boys were enrolled who were from the other continent, as it was a little more behind the mainland in economy and population. Most of those small town boys stayed near their homes, not drawn by the promise of opportunity that the glamorous Shin-Ra army commercials on T.V. advertised. Cloud had of course, but then again, his mother was rather worldly herself, surely only still residing in Nibelheim due to her pregnancy with Cloud so early in life. Cloud wondered if that was why she let him go so easily, even encouraging his dream to be a SOLDIER in her own foul mouthed way.

Either way, he’d be spending the holiday in the dorms by himself like fucking Harry Potter. When he revealed this bit of information, he had looked intently into Sephiroth’s face… and found nothing.

Sephiroth was resting peacefully with his eyes closed, and didn’t seem fazed by the information. Furthermore, he did not take the opportunity to invite Cloud to stay at his apartment.

Too soon, Cloud had decided, trying not to let negative emotions gather, It’s just too soon to spend holidays together…

“…So, what do you want?” Cloud had then asked with a gentle, excitable kicking of his feet.

“Don’t get me anything, Cloud,” Sephiroth sighed, seeming bored with the question, but the overpowering vibe of disappointment that immediately emitted from Cloud had him backpedaling, glancing sleepily over his shoulder. “...You can if you wanna. You just don’t hafta.”

Cloud shrugged a little, “I do want to…”

“But I don’t need anything. I’d rather you spend money on yourself.”

Cloud clucked at him, true annoyance lifting his voice, “It’s not about money! I just wanna get you a present, damnit!”

“Why?” Sephiroth asked, truly puzzled.

“Because etiquette would then dictate that you would have to get me one.”

Sephiroth’s green eyes shot open, and he chuckled with refreshment at true, blatant honesty. “Surprise me, then. Whadda you want?”

Cloud smiled brilliantly for a moment at Sephiroth’s surrender, before it turned into a pout of regret. “It kills me, but... anything at all but clothes. Closet’s full.”

“I’ll hafta think up somethin’ creative, then…” Sephiroth thought out loud, reaching back to snake his fingers into Cloud’s soft spikes of blonde.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

On the first morning of the new semester, the boys were all jubilant to miss out on a day of early morning physical classes to stand in line for their new schedules. They were encouraged to use free morning hours to walk to each class, introduce themselves to their new instructors, and become associated with their new routines. It was mostly because of the schools’ disdain for tardiness, and the desire to curb any excuse a boy might have to show up late.

Instead, the courtyard and cafeteria were abuzz with reasonless excitement, the same sort of barely controlled teenage boy rioting that Cloud had been confronted with on his very first day in Midgar. A few third class SOLDIERs had been conned or court-martialed into Big Brother duty, most of not all of them ignoring their guidance tasks in favor of hackeysack.

“Whaddaya got?” Cam asked, swiping Cloud’s yellow schedule card as soon as he departed the table for those with last names beginning with P-T.

Cloud made a grab to retrieve his property, but Cam easily held it aloft, scrutinizing it.

“Tell me, tell me!” Cloud demanded, standing up on the toes of his red chucks.

“Runnin’ 2, Boot Camp 2...” Cam read, and Cloud took a moment to express his misery at this information through the art of throwing back his head and whining. “…and den... Weapons 1, Mako Science, Geometry...”

Cloud sighed. “Aw! Why do I have to take another fucking math class?”

Cam waved the card around, “...I heard we got math every single goddamn semester...” and then he sent a knowing grin down at Cloud. “It’s the General that’s so big on academics...”

Cloud elbowed him lightly with a small, coy smile. “Okay… then what?”

“You got... Rhythm Theory…?”

Cloud froze. “…Really?”

“Rhythm Theory,” Cam repeated, as if the words tasted strange in his mouth. “What’s dat? I thought you was takin’ Weight Trainin’ wit me.”

“You’re absolutely right!” Cloud bellowed. “That’s my elective period! I did choose Weight Training with you! You got in, didn’t you?”

Cam compared his own schedule to Cloud’s side by side. “Yeh! I gots Weight Trainin’ here... maybe it got full, like?”

“But I need it! Look at me! What the fuck is Rhythm Theory gonna do for my guns?! What is it anyways?!”

Cam swallowed approximately one million wisecracks about Cloud’s so-called “guns”, and instead sifted through his linguistic knowledge before arriving at a conclusion. “I’m thinkin’ dat’s like... marchin’? I thought we didn’t have it til next year, though...”

Cloud was livid. “This is some bullshit! Why the fuck do I have marching lessons on my elective period!? Fuck this! Fuck this bullshit!”

Cam immediately surrendered Cloud’s schedule card with a grimace, not wanting to be bitten by his little friend and infected with rabies. After a moment of stewing and rereading the schedule for himself, Cloud decided to march his little ass right on down to Building G, Room 101, and give them all a piece of his mind. Off he went in a tizzy.

He slowed down a little when he was out of sight, and gazed at his schedule breathlessly.

Not just anyone was accepted into Rhythm Theory, afterall.

Cloud had chosen it on a secret whim, his pen marking his first elective choice almost on its’ own. He and Cam had previously discussed taking the weight class together in order to free up more time in the evening to begin a sparring regime with the other gym rats they had become loosely associated with. More time for other activities, a grade for the training they were doing anyways, everyone wins… that was their plan.

But something had been repeating in Cloud’s mind for the past several weeks.

“Do you drum?”

Little did the General know that the tiny seed of commentary had grown into wild rat’s nest of imagination in Cloud’s mind. Sephiroth had asked it so casually, as if it could have been an actual possibility. It made Cloud wonder why he didn’t drum. Not because of any fool reason like, ‘it was in his blood’, as it made the art sound like a disease.

But ever since he was a baby, he never could tell when he was or wasn’t banging or hitting something, because he always was, always had been. And being neck deep in shit that he didn’t naturally excel at – physical sports, fighting, and god forbid magic in a few months… Cloud felt the urge to give it all up at least ten times a day.

He felt out of his element at times, and at other’s, he felt that being a SOLDIER was all he could ever have wanted. But he indulged himself sometimes in thoughts of what he would do if he were to quit.

He could get a job and do the college thing. He could get a job and not do the college thing. He was certain that whatever he had with Sephiroth would survive if Cloud was outside of the military realm, so it wasn’t the General he was staying for, and it wasn’t the General that made him sign up in the first place.

As odd as it was, Cloud wanted to be a SOLDIER because it was the Earthly pinnacle of manhood. He would feel nothing but pride and capability twenty four hours a day.

It just seemed like such a far star to reach, though. How could he ever be as fast as Zack? Or as strong as Sephiroth? Or as disciplined and athletic as Nurse Rhonda? All while being as fabulous as Rufus?

Cloud just needed something to get him through it. Something that was all his own.

And of course it was a secret, as he hadn’t even told Sephiroth about choosing the class. It wasn’t about fear, something inside him just... wanted to see first.

He had never been to Building G before, or even the wing of the campus grounds it was located. In fact, Cloud hadn’t really taken the time to truly explore the sprawling academy campus, as he had spent most of his recent free time sprawled beneath Sephiroth. Cloud grinned openly at a flood of warm memories and slowed to a lazy stroll.

When he arrived at the G building, he quickly located the room to greet his marching coach. It was the only door in a cavernous hallway, and a massive thumping and shouting burst periodically from within.

PLEASE DO NOT ENTER, a hand written sign begged, WE ARE CREATING RIGHT NOW!!!

And so, with a desperate curiosity, he went through the motions of his school day until it was time to return. The sign had been removed, so Cloud felt no guilt at pushing the heavy door open and entering.

There was a tiny corridor with soft murmuring coming from the end of it. Cloud pulled his uniform straight and adjusted his messenger bag, always a little apprehensive about entering a new classroom full of new people. He was brushing his hair out of his eyes when he came to the end of the small hallway, and looked out onto a room that was filled with percussion instruments.

Cloud froze as everything fell into place in his mind. It was just enough of a pause to seem awkward, and the boys that were sitting around in a loose circle of chairs all turned to look at him. There were only four others; a chunky brown haired boy that looked to be turning into a wall of lean mass, a thin bespectacled fellow that was in danger of being shorter than Cloud himself, a bright haired ginger, and a tall, self important looking douchebag.

Band geeks, Cloud lamented.

He took a seat on the outskirts, not exactly interested in melding into their conversation, chewing on his lip and tapping his foot in anxiety until the bell chimed and class began.

The instructor who Cloud knew was Coach Hendrix came out of a windowed room to the left, sipping a mug of coffee. He was younger, physically fit as all the instructors at the academy had to be, with plainish dark hair. Cloud watched him as he took a stool before the group, seeming right at home. Something about the casualness made Cloud a little apprehensive, “Alright guys, as you can see, we’ve got someone to replace Jerry.”

The four others looked to Cloud, who wasn’t at all expecting to be pointed out so soon, or so suddenly.

“How long have you been playing?” The self important douchebag inquired seriously.

“Oh,” Cloud blinked. “Oh. I don’t. I thought this was a class to learn how...?”

There was a brief smattering of displeased sighing, before Coach Hendrix waved them quiet, “It is a class, but usually to be accepted, a minimal knowledge of drumming is required… we can make allowances, though.”

“Why should we?” Douchebag asked, bored and unimpressed with life.

“Because nobody else signed up,” the instructor supplied.

Cloud felt about two feet tall. “Look, I can just get a schedule change. I didn’t really know there was a prerequisite.”

“You didn’t read about the class in the student handbook before you chose it?” Douchebag demanded.

“No,” Cloud said dryly.

“Well, if you have an interest in percussion, we can at least see what we’re working with,” Coach Hendrix shrugged.

Cloud’s eyebrows turned up. “Well... what is this class? I mean... if we aren’t learning how to drum, what are we doing here?”

Coach Hendrix sipped his coffee. “We do practice different drumming techniques, but essentially you’re here to learn the battle tempos.”

Cloud had no idea what he was talking about, and it showed on his face.

“We’re the military time keepers,” the short boy supplied. “For marching and drills here at the academy.”

“And sometimes, for battle!” Douchebag amended.

“Battle?” Cloud gawked, “But we’ll be SOLDIERs or army, won’t we be too busy fighting?”

The group suddenly all blinked and looked around the room uneasily. Cloud looked at the instructor, who grimaced softly. “You won’t be doing time keeping as a SOLDIER, we send you into battle as needed.”

Cloud went wide eyed, “You mean…”

“We’ve all seen battle already,” the ginger spoke up. “The SOLDIERs do their best to protect us, but sometimes they just can’t. That’s what happened to Jerry...”

“What happened to Jerry was tragic, but it was the exception to the rule,” Coach Hendrix said gently. “He’s the first drummer boy we’ve lost in many years.”

“Drummer boy!?” Cloud bellowed. “You mean… what is this? 1812? Don’t they have like... radios and shit? Why do they need drummer boys?”

“For the same reason SOLDIERs still use swords,” the hulky boy said. “My brother is a SOLDIER, and he says mechanical weapons fail so much that they’re completely unreliable. Radios, even trucks out there die all the time. It’s the planet,” he stated conspiratorially. “The planet doesn’t like war.”

“Yeah, whatever,” the ginger interrupted. “The point is, they need us. If ya don’t think you can drum, it’s kinda dangerous, yo. For you and for them.”

Cloud was slightly horrified at this information, but also completely exhilarated at the though of being able to help out the SOLDIERs. “Well… if you give me a chance, I’ll do my best to catch up with you guys!”

“Show us what you can do,” Coach Hendrix invited. “No harm in it. Renold, let him borrow your sticks.”

The ginger handed Cloud the sticks that had been twirling through his fingers. Cloud hadn’t ever held a pair of them before, and searched inside of himself for some sort of second nature shenanigans, but alas, it only felt like holding two skinny pieces of wood. No sparks, no boners, no inspirational Rocky music.

He slowly stood up and went to one of the five snare drums that we set up side by side. He moved behind it, lifted the sticks, and prepared to strike.

“W-what should I do?” Cloud asked, looking at the instructor for guidance.

Coach Hendrix sipped his coffee. “You know what a drum roll is?”

Cloud nodded. “Yeah… I’ve never done one, though. Should I try it now?”

“Give it a whirl.”

Cloud frowned, thinking about the millions of drum rolls he had heard and stomped around to in his lifetime. It was just a quick wrist movement, probably. Maybe a wiggle of the fingers, maybe a …

The room was filled with a steady, strong pounding as Cloud performed his very first, actual drum roll.

Cloud could do a drum roll. No sparks, no boners, no Rocky soundtrack, but he could definitely do a drum roll.

He couldn’t help himself, he abruptly ended the tinkering beat to hop into the air. “I did it!”

And somehow, the charm and magic of Cloud Strife won over a room of diehard band geeks as they accepted him, albeit hesitantly, as one of their own.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sephiroth was smitten by horror movie monsters.

It all began with Vincent Valentine, as all things in his young life quite literally had.

One rare afternoon at Vincent’s condo had found Sephiroth happily consuming pizza on his leather sofa, perched on the edge to ensure that his feet solidly hit the floor. The light-up sneakers, jean overalls and red zip-up jacket he wore were the only things that made him look relatively his age. His hair had settled from a white blonde into a metallic, polluted silver that would see him into and through adulthood. The fine strands were beginning to brush his ears, but he had begged the staff and Vincent alike not to cut it. Coupled with the snowy white of his skin, and he looked like a little albino cat.

On good days, anyways. On that particular occasion, Vincent’s little buddy was also the proud owner of two painfully brutal black eyes, a face full of bruises, and stitches across the middle of his bottom lip, all evidence of a rigorous new training schedule.

“You get scared and I’ll turn it off, understand?”

Sephiroth rolled his eyes back into his head, “Viiiin, I’m ten now. That’s double digits.”

“Oh, my mistake,” Vincent indulged him, and proceeded with the movie marathon.

They sat and watched zombies devour the innocent, high school teens battle vampires, blobs eat entire towns, and serial killers silently and efficiently stalk loose women.

Almost every one of the features contained graphic sex scenes, and knowing just where each one was located, Vincent promptly skipped them. Only once did little Sephiroth get a brief eyeful of female anatomy when Vincent wasn’t quick enough, and he glanced over at him to find his small face completely deadpan and unimpressed.

But it was this occasion that marked a grand turning point in Sephiroth’s life. There had been many attempts by Hojo and the more diehard of his underlings to convince the boy that he was a thing, an animal, a monster, a creature of higher purpose than being merely human.

These suggestions never stuck to him, because he was intelligent enough as a child to realize that the other monsters in the lab did not wear shoes. He wore shoes. The large fish people in the tanks swam up quickly to eat scraps of chum that were thrown in – they had no preference to what they ate, while he very much preferred pizza over just about anything. And the pieces of alien Jenova that floated in the tanks didn’t move, didn’t breathe, and seemingly didn’t do much but chill out. He loved to move, to play, to run around and around and faster and faster until he fell to the floor, his chest heaving and color dancing to the beat behind his eyelids.

He didn’t behave like the monsters in the lab, but it had been reiterated so much to him through his short life that he thought of himself as a special monster, maybe a super rare one that only looked like a little boy.

And after watching movies full of so-called monsters with Vincent, and taking a bit of advice that had been given to him long ago, Sephiroth began to feel a keen sense of pride in himself.

That pride manifested itself in odd ways.

“You’re base, Sephiroth. So base,” Hojo had said once, looking into Sephiroth’s throat with slimy appreciation, not speaking to him specifically, but the tape recorder held up to his lips, “The acid he swallowed didn’t even leave a burn mark. Such a terribly lovely creature... base in every sense of the word…”

“Fug yeh!” Sephiroth had cried merrily around the popsicle stick. Immunity to acid? Check!

Hojo had sighed, “…And you ruin it all by speaking.”

“Sowwy.”

Then he got the wild hair up his ass to emerge from dark corners of the lab with a scalpel raised menacingly, stalking around slowly as he imitated the masked serial killer Michael Myers. The first time this had happened, the nurse he had gone after screamed bloody murder, and inside an hour he was in a straight jacket. He was confined alone for roughly three weeks until he had convinced the staff he was sane. The second time it occurred, they locked him up for two weeks. The third time it occurred, they hired on a child psychologist full time. After that, the sight of a pre-teen Sephiroth with a sharp weapon and vacant glare only begot ruffled silver hair and chuckles from the staff.

Then there was the classic game of jumping out and shouting ‘rawr!’. Or he would convince the newer nurses that his room was inhabited by a poltergeist by throwing furniture around and setting small fires with his mind. Or writing ‘redrum’ on every available foggy surface. Or zipping himself up into bodybags only to terrify passersby by rolling himself onto the floor and squirming after them.

Sephiroth was quite literally haunting the Shin-Ra Medical Science Facility.

Beatings for this behavior came frequently, but pain as a punishment wasn’t the way to discipline a creature such as Sephiroth. Like a feline, it only amused him and made him act out in larger ways. It was only when the staff began to block visitation from Vincent that Sephiroth began to behave himself.

But as fate would have it, he grew out of this phase as he began to enter his teenage years. Instead of acting out monstrously out of boredom and the need for a sense of identity, he was raging due to teenage hormones and mako. The staff found that they greatly preferred their spooky little playful psycho over a stomping, angry, fussy, loud-mouthed teenager.

But even as his monster routine faded, Vincent’s visits remained ever infrequent. And as he entered his school years, they diminished down to none at all. When six whole months had gone by with no sight of a lanky, dark haired man in a blue suit, Sephiroth decided that instead of feeling out of sorts about it, he would simply fix the problem himself.

He begged his maternal grandmother, not knowing her relation to him of course, for Vincent’s phone number. After several days of pestering, while the methods ranged from sugar sweetness to threatening glares, she relented and gave him what he asked for.

When Vincent answered his cellphone, he was shouting over pounding club music.

“Vin?” Sephiroth had yelled into the phone, confused with the background noise, not finding a dance club congruent with what he knew about Vincent Valentine.

“Huh?!”

“VIN!”

“Yeah!”

“It’s Seph!”

“Who?”

Sephiroth’s heart threatened to break, “It’s Sephiroth, for fuck’s sake! Remember me?!”

“Seph?!”

“No fuckin’ shit! Yes, it’s Seph!”

“Don’t swear!”

Figures Vincent would make that out of all things, and Sephiroth chuckled softly, “Why the fuck not, Vin?!”

“Because I said so! You okay!?”

“I’m alright! I miss you...”

“What?!”

There was no way he was repeating that, so Sephiroth went with, “HOW ARE YOU?”

“I’m alright, squirt! I’m at work right now!”

“Doesn’t sound like it!” Sephiroth pointed out.

“I’m watchin’ the president’s kid get wasted! It’s his thirteenth birthday!”

Sephiroth scrunched his nose in confusion, “Thirtieth!?”

“No, thirteenth! I gotta make sure the little bastard doesn’t take his fuckin’ pants off!”

Sephiroth flushed with humor at the joyous occasion of Vincent succumbing to swearing. “Well, I won’t keep you! But I wanted to let ya know that I’m graduatin’ soon!”

“Holy sh – crap!” Vincent cried, editing himself.

“Yeah!” Sephiroth agreed, “You wanna come?!”

“…I gotta see if I’m workin’, but I’ll try! Call me again if ya need anything, okay?!”

That was the last time they spoke until Sephiroth’s graduation day.

And that was the last time they spoke, period.

The Shin-Ra company, for all its size, was a relatively small place.

Vincent and Sephiroth were in the same room on numerous occasions, often only a few feet or seats apart. Vincent was there when Sephiroth was sent off to Wutai for the first time. He was there when Sephiroth accepted the position as General, and he was there at the board meeting in which Sephiroth demanded a better living facility for the future Turks and SOLDIERs at the academy.

In turn, Sephiroth was there when Vincent was promoted to the Captain of the Turks. He was there when Vincent proposed that Shin-Ra manufacture its own bullets, a multi-million gil endeavor that in turn, saved Shin-Ra billions. He had witnessed Vincent canoodling, Vincent brooding, and Vincent leaning over to tie his shoe.

They never spoke.

So much had happened since the last time they had, that Sephiroth didn’t think they ever would again.

He wondered in his mind what he was to Vincent, and what Vincent was to him. He desperately wished that they could have been family, much like a child would wish to have a millionaire as a father. He swallowed the truth that Vincent must have simply felt guilty for the “special” lab rat, just there to comfort him, but remained ultimately uninvolved.

And now that Sephiroth was grown and had a life of his own, Vincent must not have felt the need to speak to him in that tone, that lovely tone of father to child… that made Sephiroth feel like a monster more than anything Hojo ever did to him.

Sephiroth was fresh out of a meeting in which he had occupied a room with Vincent, sitting almost directly across the table from the man. Their eyes caught a few times, and there had not been the slightest hint of recognition. Everything in Sephiroth’s nature demanded that he give a small smile and a nerdy wave, but he kept himself rigid and cool, giving the speaker his attention rather than a reluctant father figure.

The meeting was beginning to wind down when Sephiroth took the liberty of excusing himself. It was a few minutes after four in the afternoon, and this was designated as Cloud time. Like clockwork his phone sounded in his pocket. He pulled it out and the saved school number with a little cell phone stock, cartoon image of an angel popped up, and it chimed loudly with an Anal Orgasm melody.

Sephiroth smiled for the first time that day and answered, “Baby.”

“Hey!” Cloud gushed, causing Sephiroth’s smile to broaden.

“What’s up?”

Cloud rattled off the goings on of the day, with a brief rundown of each class he was taking. Weapons 1: Boooring. Mako Science: Too hard for the first day! Geometry: Easy, but sitting behind a smelly kid.

“And then, for fourth period I have...” Cloud began to untie his boot only to tie it again, “Rhythm Theory. It’s a drumming class.”

“Cloud –”

“Well, it’s not really a drumming, drumming class. It’s a class where they’re teaching us how to drum, but I’m not really going to be playing, it’s just so we can learn to be the timekeepers for the marches and drills, like, land battles for SOLDIER. The uniforms aren’t even cute, it’s just my school uniform with a bullet proof vest, so it’s really not a big deal or anything.”

A sneaky smile curled into Sephiroth’s voice. “…You’re a drummer boy now?”

Cloud let out a breath. “Yeah. I’m a drummer boy now.”

“I cannot wait to see drumsticks stickin’ outta your back pocket!”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Cloud giggled.

They lay in bed together, naked and very recently satisfied. Cloud playfully mounted and straddled Sephiroth’s ass, bouncing him up and down into the mattress until he lazily groaned in complaint.

“What am I drawing?” Cloud then asked, ghosting fingertips across Sephiroth’s back.

Sephiroth smiled into the pillow, trying to mentally create a picture of what Cloud was tickling into his flesh.

“A star.”

“Yep. Now what?” Cloud traced a large shape on Sephiroth’s ass cheek.

“A cock.”

“You’re good at this!” Cloud crowed. “...Now what am I spelling...?”

“That was long. Do it again.”

Cloud slowly, seriously traced the letters over Sephiroth’s shoulders and back.

Sephiroth smiled, “...Nice ass, then an exclamation point?”

Cloud collapsed onto him, hugging his neck warmly. “Yes! Now do me!”

“I already did you.”

Cloud slapped at his arm then rolled onto his stomach expectantly.

Sephiroth groaned and shifted to his knees, then straddled the backside of his smaller lover. His flaccid genitals fit ever so nicely in the crevice between Cloud’s legs, and Sephiroth thought it felt just as nice not fucking as it did fucking. He smiled in utter contentment and rubbed his hands over Cloud’s back, warming him up… and thinking of what to write.

He exhaled softly, making a single pass over Cloud’s back.

“I.” Cloud guessed.

Sephiroth made two mirror image swooshes.

“That was a heart. Love,” Cloud then guessed, correctly. “I can hardly imagine what it’ll be. Boobs?”

Sephiroth only made one slow, turning swoop.

Cloud didn’t say anything for a few moments while Sephiroth’s heart beat away at his ribs. Finally, a blue eye glanced up at him from over a softly tanned shoulder, “…Me?”

Sephiroth smiled, and nodded.

Cloud shifted beneath him, rolling over to show his soft, emotional face, “Seph... please, please. Say it to me.”

Sephiroth opened his mouth, then close it and smiled, “I think... I need to warm up first.”

Cloud frowned a little, “...Warm up?”

Sephiroth nodded, “I’ll say first that… I love... your blue eyes,” He leaned down close, inches from Cloud’s face, “Didja know that I love your eyes, Cloud?”

Cloud blinked them, then looked away with a faint blush.

“And I definitely love your smile.”

One touched Cloud’s lips instantly.

“I love your heart.”

Cloud looked up at him desperately.

“I love your laugh.”

Cloud smiled wider, barely suppressing one.

“I love when you curse.”

Cloud did laugh at that.

“I love how you kiss me. I love how you make me feel... I love that you make me feel.”

“Seph...” Cloud gripped his shoulders, seeming almost ready to fall apart.

“...I love you.” Sephiroth finally told him.

The warmth, the love, the intense brightness of Cloud’s ocean colored eyes... dimmed. It dimmed until it disappeared, and Cloud was left looking like a shell, a casing.

Fake. Plastic. Lifeless. Like a puppet.

“I love you,” Sephiroth told it. “...I love you so much.”

The eyes stared up, unseeing. Long legs were heavy around Sephiroth’s waist. There was no life in the slender body beneath him.

Sephiroth slammed his eyes shut.

When he opened them, he was alone. He sat up in bed, immediately feeling for Cloud, and then realizing he was okay. He looked at the clock and found that it was only a little past eight at night. Cloud was in his dorm, alive and safe.

Cloud was okay.

Sephiroth put his hands to his eyes and rubbed them hard enough to hurt. Then he put his thumbs to his ears, pressing them closed with a pained sigh, muttering nonsensical curses to himself.

His ears always rang that way before he heard her.

On cue, there was a high frequency sound occupying his skull, accompanied by a foreign language that he had no business knowing how to speak, but could understand the loose meaning of.

Sephiroth got up from bed and made a lazy beeline for the bathroom, feigning indifference the way one hides fear from a wild animal.

He wasn’t quick enough, though. His right hand came up, and he slapped himself across the face hard enough to rock back on his heels.

He was stunned for a moment at the only strength on Earth that could make him see stars – his own. Blood hammered in his ears and he worked his jaw slowly. He grabbed the hand that did it with his free one, and continued towards the bathroom.

The voice’s shrieking indignation translated roughly into demands to be let go of, to be allowed free reign of his body.

Sephiroth’s right hand fought against his left while he calmly flipped the lightswitch with his elbow. He also noted the presence of a spectral hand pulling at him. Two hands against one, now. He shook his head bitterly. “Bitch, bitch, bitch...”

The unseen hand grabbed Sephiroth’s ear, and he let a winced groan out before he could stop himself.

The alien voice dripped with disdain at Sephiroth’s frequent use of vulgarity.

Sephiroth swallowed shallowly as he marched himself to the bathtub, his right leg working against his left, shoved by halfway by himself, halfway by an unseen force.

His blood thrummed in absolute horror.

But it was delicious horror. It was this, these battles against his greater nature that Sephiroth lived for. It wasn’t about popping out of dark corridors or startling people, anymore. Sephiroth’s inner monster demanded that he pillage and burn, rape and murder.

He wouldn’t have that.

Sephiroth dropped to one knee, and was half-dragged kicking to the bathtub. His right hand threw open the curtain, and made a grab for bar soap.

In finding none, the voice crowed about cleanliness being next to godliness. It was too fucking stupid to realize that he was a bodywash-using faggot.

But instead of letting the issue rest, it smashed Sephiroth’s forehead into the tub’s stone floor. There was pain to be felt, but it only made Sephiroth laugh a little. The sound of his dry humor enraged the invisible force, and it propelled him backwards, sliding him across the bathroom floor.

He didn’t waste even a split second before taking a syringe from the middle drawer and throwing open the mirror. He very calmly took the bottle he was looking for, not bothering to clear the air out before filling the syringe.

He worked hard to fill the needle and keep the bottle steady with one hand, while holding the other, flailing one in his armpit.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere with this,” Sephiroth said softly to his reflection, right before he was thrown headfirst into the mirror. The shattered glass and cuts on his face were noted in his mind, but not important enough to fret over. He clutched the needle, pushing out the air before plunging it into his neck, praying for a vein.

His right hand fought his left, the needle ripping roughly through his skin while it emptied out into his bloodstream. He knew he didn’t have much time after taking it, and was already managing a calm strut into the bedroom.

He snatched up his cell phone from his nightstand only to have it snatched right back by the unseen hand. It floated in the air and Sephiroth watched placidly, almost with detached interest.

Sephiroth knew that it didn’t pay to let Jenova know she scared the hell out of him. It was an episode. Just another episode. Nothing more.

“You didn’t raise me…” He argued softly aloud with the indignant voice in his head, and carefully... gently… gently took his cell phone from the air.

He felt her hand. He felt her there.

Nothing’s there... Sephiroth firmly decided, having no other choice but to believe himself.

I am here, though.

Sephiroth fell to the floor in crippling pain, but he couldn’t assess the exact damage. He didn’t feel there was a part of his that wasn’t damaged. But then, he found that he didn’t exactly… care.

About anything, really.

B7-F was an elephant tranquilizer.

He heard the voice fade, fade, fade. His hands went limp and his cell phone spun across the floor.

What’s the number for 911... Sephiroth smiled loopily to himself, then began the everfucking crawl to his cell phone.

When he reached it, it spun away farther. And having lost no strength, Jenova grabbed his hair and pulled him across the floor by it.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was the receptor. If the receptor was down, the signal had nowhere to go. Sephiroth couldn’t ponder it, and was already was too high to feel fear, but his survival instincts screamed at him from through a thick glass window of sleepy indifference to escape.

He kept his eyes focused on his cell phone, and moved towards it, trying to keep them open.

A phantom foot planted itself in his side, knocking him over onto his back, and forcing all the air from his lungs.

Pain never meant much to Sephiroth.

He only flopped back over and continued his crawl.

He reached the phone through a tirade of invisible abuse, opened it with one hand, and began to hit buttons, any buttons.

The door to his closet flew open on its own, and he was shoved roughly inside the small, pitch black room.

The door slammed shut, and it was Sephiroth and Jenova in the dark.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Cloooooooud?”

“Whaaaaaaaaat?”

“Phooooooone!”

“Is it my mooooom? Tell her I’ll call her laaaaaater!”

“Nooooo, it’s some guuuuuuuuuy!”

Cloud appeared instantly, seeming to have teleported through walls and doors, and plucked the phone out of Carter the Klepto’s hand, and answered it softly, “…Dear?”

“Baby… wouldja do somethin’ fer me?” Sephiroth slurred, panting.

Cloud rolled his eyes, figuring his beloved was on another one of his runs and his poor cock would have to suffer through a grunted and breathy conversation, “Is it decent? Because if it is, I won’t do it.”

“Baby, get Nurse Rhonda. I c – … I can’t getter on her cell. I needja ta find her fer me?”

Cloud’s eyes were completely round, “… Are you alright?”

“I’m awright,” Sephiroth laughed a little bit, and sniffed, “Baby… I needja to find Rhonda, an’ teller ta come to my place.”

“What’s wrong?”

“’M sick.”

“Seph! Why didn’t you say so in the first place? I’ll come take care –”

“Cloud. Baby. Find Nurse Rhonda. That’s what I needja to do.”

Cloud’s skin prickled, and he was mentally transported by the official-sounding, yet slurred request, and the dire need behind it.

This was the Seph and Cloud Show.

It was time.

Sephiroth was in danger, and instead of asking anything more, Cloud said, “I’m on it.”

Although the only thing keeping Sephiroth from an apparent suicide were his defiant fingers curled underneath the belt around his neck, he felt suddenly certain that everything was going to be okay.

Chapter Images can be found here!

SephxCloud - http://owmyhearteries.deviantart.com/art/Blonde-Ambition-ch16-Snow-100049963

I drew Vinny and Baby Sephy, but it was written in the story as Sephy being all beat up and sad looking. Soooo… in case you wanna see cutesy pie Sephy NOT beat up, go here : http://owmyhearteries.deviantart.com/art/Chap16-Happy-Verson-100049827

If you’re a drama whore and you WANT to see baby Sephy all battered looking, go here : http://owmyhearteries.deviantart.com/art/Chap-16-VS-Lab-Abuse-version-100049902

A/N

1-      I experienced the desire to go back to the very beginning and like, re-edit this entire story. I’m sure some of you might have noticed a difference in the writing between later chapters and the very first couple of chapters. Buuuuuttttt.. no. I’m way too lazy and waaay too busy (bad, bad combo), and if you people still managed to fall love with it despite my shitty writing, then I really don’t care. This entire issue stemmed from some harsh criticism I received, but I say TA HELL WIT’ IT.

2-     And thanks many times over for your reviews – you know you get a tax break for leaving lots of them, right? XD
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Blonde Ambition