Mako Reactor

I respectfully credit all Original Creators, namely Squaresoft, which became SquareEnix,for these characters. In this way, I pay homage to my Fandom's Original Creator, and illustrate my Community's belief that Fan Fiction is "fair use". I do not claim to own these characters. I do not make money or gil from using these protected characters, nor do I wish to make money or gil from them. In other words, I am borrowing these characters to entertain the adult fanfiction community, but I am doing so with the highest degree of respect to the engineers, game designers, music makers, and voice actors.




“Wake up, Hojo,” Valentine’s voice urged softly.

I forced my eyes open, seeing nothing but black. Ah, glorious Ifrit, I had my face in his hair. The silk of it and his scent settled upon me. My body rested against his and he had an arm around me.

And, my stomach didn’t hurt or protest.

He coiled, sitting us up. I swayed a second. He braced me. “You have recovered?” he asked.

The genuine worry in his voice made me look at him. I saw that concern seeping into his red, red gaze. It made my heart lighten. I took a deep, shaky breath to quell the surge of optimism in my heart.

“I’m nearly as good as new,” I answered, mostly meaning it. My body could function on raw nerve force, but hope could carry a starving soul like mine forever. Aware of how much I needed him, I experienced a sharp surge of exquisite pain. It hurt to require another person. I’d forgotten that.

Valentine drew back from me slightly, his eyes taking me in with curious intensity.

I loved watching him think.

A casual observer wouldn’t be able to decipher the very, very slight movements on his face. He remained hidden to people this way. Whether he consciously acknowledged it or not, he used the awe he inspired as a shield. No one met his eyes for long, not even Strife.

People instinctively draw away from an ache as deep as his. They fear being sucked down into it. It’s survival to leave damaged things behind. I’d seen this time and time again with the way my assistants would distance themselves from my wretched experiments. Madness had spared me that survival skill. I didn’t consider it a bonus to lose sight of pain.

“I wake you from deep sleep, well before our departure time, with no explanation, and you just sit there,” Valentine said quietly. “You sit there and you immediately start thinking about me. You don’t bother to hide it, either.”

I felt all undone. I might have seized this beautiful man’s body and captured his attention, but he could flay me to the bone with a single observation. It took me entire monologues to foster this sort of damage.

Shiva, he felt so hot and close he pulled the very air from my lungs. “Why would I hide it?” I asked, putting my glasses on to see him in sharp focus. “I’m not ashamed of wanting you, Valentine. What shame could I have? Anyone would want you.” I got up. I couldn’t sit beside him, touching him, breathing him. “I can grasp why you wouldn’t feel the same, and I can overlook it.”

The sound of his PHS interrupted my flight for freedom. Valentine, still on his knees from having half-risen to follow me, dug out his phone and flipped it open.

“Vincent, you and Hojo stay where you are,” Strife’s voice said on speaker. “My group walked all night to get here first and there’s no need. The lab’s already been burned to the ground.”

“We’ll stay,” Valentine intoned, eyes cutting to me. “Have you estimated our position?”

“Yes. Expect us in… twelve hours.”

Strife cut off communication. Valentine put his phone away, looking at me. “Where were you about to go, Hojo?” he asked.

“I don’t even know,” I admitted, which brought the smallest of smiles to his lips.

He began removing his clothes.

Like a headlight-struck animal, I just stood there and watched. Slowly, he worked the clamps on his boots and shucked them. His red eyes lifted to mine for a heart-stopping moment, disappearing behind black leather as he shrugged out of his top. Panting, I grabbed the central tent pole and held on for dear life. For him to undress right now meant something significant, something wonderful.

“I’ve never occupied someone’s thoughts like that,” he said, tossing the wad of leather to the side. “I’m in your head every waking moment, aren’t I?”

I could have tried to deny it. I suspected he knew damn good and well I couldn’t formulate deception while observing him disrobe that body.

“Yes,” I confessed.

He smiled measurably, reaching for my pack in nothing more than pants and claw-tipped gauntlet. My greedy eyes took in his undulating torso, the controlled, slick movements of perfectly joined muscle under palest white. I felt dizzy. I pushed splinters from the tent pole into my hand and barely noticed.

Valentine pulled out the tube of lubricant and dropped it on my sleeping bag. His eyes pinned me as effectively as his hands ever could. Slowly, he began unlacing his pants. “You want this, don’t you?’ he asked softly, deep voice rasping. “You want me.”

Nothing came out of my mouth. Like a man drugged, I merely watched and listened. How could a man on his knees be so imposing?

“Come here,” he ordered.

I released my death grip on the tent brace and moved to obey him. He gracefully shed his pants and returned to kneeling.

“Down here with me,” he instructed, tugging on my arm. I sank to the matted grass.

He began undressing me, making my heart and body squirm.

“This will please you,” he rumbled. “You can’t be that much different from me. It’s how you figured out what to do, isn’t it?” A dark but warm chuckle escaped his lips. “Clever, persistent little beast; you took your knocks first, got them out of the way.” He threw my shirt down. His smooth hand glided over my chest. I felt the barest scrape of his claws upon my stomach. “And,” he went on, “I didn’t even know what you were doing.”

He grabbed me, lifted to place me on the sleeping bag. On his withdrawal, he hooked my pants and freed my legs. “Honestly, I still don’t know,” he admitted, his brows knitting briefly. “But, I have at least ten hours to find out.”

I shivered as he poised before me, handing over the lube.

“Put it on me,” he commanded softly. “And do a good job of it, because I intend to do the same.”

It took forever to open the stupid tube. I squirted some of the slippery stuff into my hands and rubbed my palms together, heating it, staring at his cock the entire time. His big, thick cock. He meant to put it in me. Soon. Now. I felt a bit intimidated despite earlier urges and very specific goading toward that goal.

His head dropped back as I took him in my hands. He felt hot, impossibly hard. He throbbed in my grip, twitching when I paid attention to his head. Still on his knees, he let his body drop backward, propping himself up on his extended, golden arm. Taut as a bowstring, he closed his eyes and groaned.

I thought I would burst. If I even grazed myself I knew I would come.

His hand closed over mine. A jolt of lust shot through me as he stroked himself with my hand. Overwhelmed, I could only whimper as he built his rhythm. His muscles strained and bulged under his skin, his chest expanding mightily with his sharp inhales.

I suddenly found myself on my back.

He did that to me a lot.

He parted my legs, easing up to kneel between them. “Don’t touch yourself,” he growled, his red eyes only centimeters from my face. “But, feel free to beg.”

I felt him at my entrance. He covered me, claws in my hair and a hand gripping himself. Body shaking, he let his soft lips barely brush against mine. “And, feel free to scream,” he added.

Gently, he pushed.

I grabbed handfuls of blanket. I knew not to tense, but it was the hardest thing to stay relaxed. He was gigantic, just enormous. I felt him sliding in, slow but insistent. I opened my legs farther, attempting to alleviate the pressure. Son of a bitch. It hurt as much as it felt good.

“Yes,” he uttered lowly. His grip in my hair tightened painfully. “You’re so tight, Hojo.”

“Val…en..”

“My name is Vincent.”

He shoved.

I gasped, the breath knocked out of me. Fully seated, he draped my legs over his shoulders. I felt his hand grip the base of me.

“Say it,” he demanded. “You said it once before, you can say it again.”

“Vincent,” I repeated.

It seemed to please him. He pulled from me slightly, his palm and fingers beginning a lazy stroke over my cock. I reached up, spreading my hands over his back and waiting.

“You can touch me,” he said. “Go ahead, Hojo. Touch me.”

I worshipped his skin. He felt so smooth and hard. His power surged just below the surface. I petted a beautiful beast.

In and out, he thrust in time to jerking me. His red eyes took a tinge of yellow, sparking a thrill of fearful awareness. His strength rocked my body. I groaned, gripping him by the back of his neck, urging him down toward his old bite. He couldn’t change into a demon if he fed…

Willing, he let his teeth extend. His claw came to my shoulder, holding me down. He wanted his thrusts to count, to not bounce off of me. His teeth sank in and my eyes rolled back.

Oh my dear, fucking Ifrit. I was going to come. I couldn’t stop it.

He circled the base of my shaft with his fingers, clamping down almost painfully. It stopped my orgasm cold. I panted, shaking and trembling under him, my hands unable to be still upon his big body.

I quieted a little as he drank, feeling his swollen cock pushing against my walls.

His fingers relaxed. Gently, he began to stroke me again.

I drown in a rhythm of stroke, thrust, and suck. Relentless, he coaxed white-hot fire into my spine and balls. I begged him now, hearing my words as nonsense.

He held me down with his teeth, using one hand to brace and the other to milk me.

And, I was coming. I couldn’t stop it and neither could he.

Hot, jerking ecstasy boiled over. Valentine, snarling, wrenched his teeth from me, threw back his head and howled. I felt him pumping strongly into me even as my own come drenched my chest. My shouts mingled with his and we rolled together, panting for breath.

“Holy Shiva,” he said, summing it up in his usual, succinct way. Slowly, he pulled from me. I rued the parting greatly.

“Look at me,” he asked quietly.

Not a demand, not an order.

I opened my eyes to look directly into his. Beautiful thing, I thought.

“I had no idea,” he murmured. “I thought you were just playing with me.” He traced my bottom lip with his index finger, his eyes seeming to soften. “I didn’t know you’d started to care.”

“It’s only been a few days,” I told him. “Long enough make the ache a bleeding wound.”

Perhaps sensing what the admission cost me, he touched my face gently. I quivered inside, feeling the last bits of my remaining distance and dignity just collapse and blow away. I hadn’t this sort of closeness with anyone in forty years. He was inside me now, having given me himself.

My god, even Lucretia had never touched me afterward. No closeness, no cuddling, no ‘was it good for you?’ or ‘did I do alright?’ in the minutes following peak. Not only had he let me touch him, he touched me right now.

I would rip my heart out and hand it to him, still beating, if he asked for it. And, it terrified me that I would.

Trust Valentine to find something to frighten me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes searching me. “Something just happened inside of you, I saw it.”

I swallowed hard. “I’ve…never been held…afterward,” I confessed. “Or touched, for that matter.”

His eyes half-closed. “Not once?” he asked softly. “Not even…her?”

“No.”

He sighed. Rolling, he caught me around the waist and tucked me against him. “Me either,” he admitted. “Not her. I’ve had it from others, but never her.” His flesh hand curled in my hair, and he brought my head down to his shoulder. “But, we can do this for each other.”

Shuddering, I closed my eyes.

“I understand now why you wanted to touch me all the time,” he said quietly, hand beginning to stroke my hair. “I’m…sorry I denied you that comfort.”

I showed him how he owned me by accident. The tear just slipped out without my permission, gliding down my nose and dropping with a dull splat on his collarbone. I knew he felt it. His skin jerked at the sensation. Still, he didn’t thrust me away or make me meet his eyes. He just continued to hold me in sweet silence.

I drifted off to sleep in his arms.