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.





Morning saw my death. I watched, sick at heart as Valentine stumbled along, almost delirious with mako depletion. He fought even worse than before, firing random shots and sinking to the earth the moment all enemies passed. Despite myself, I felt for him. He seemed so proud, so stoic. Yet, there he sat after every battle, worn and weary and ill.

And beautiful. Tragically beautiful.

I ate the rations of the evening, my eyes upon his wasting frame. He wouldn’t last more than another two days. Aside from the mako, he needed darkness, solitude, and quiet. He’d been made thusly. I’d contributed to that.

“He’s still sick,” Strife said, sitting beside me. “I’ve camped us close to a cavern. It was the best I could do.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “He won’t go.”

“Right.” Strife smiled before drinking from his canteen. “He’s determined to stay the distance.”

I threw down my half-eaten supper and stood. “If he comes back alone, leave me,” I instructed. “I don’t want to be found after he gets a hold on me.”

“Hojo,” Strife said, hope and pain in his eyes. From his pocket he pulled a tube of lubricant and tossed it down.

“Shut it,” I hissed. “This isn’t nobility or honor. This is restitution.” I swept up his guilty offering.

I made my way to Valentine, seeing his tired, crimson eyes tracking my progress. Despite myself, I shivered. I’d never desired a man before and I would be damned if anyone, even Valentine, figured out how much I wanted him. I straightened my back and closed the distance, my soul shrinking in fear. “Valentine,” I said. “Strife wants us to check out the cavern below. Do you have your gun?”

Tired, even deathly ill, Valentine still comprehended my words. He put his hand on his side, checking for the presence of his triple barrel Cerberus. The nearly non-existent breeze kicked up his matted hair, bringing the scent of rain-soaked earth to my nose. He rose, towering over me like a vengeful god. A few strands of that raven hair struck me in the face, stinging my cheek.

“I am armed,” he confirmed, his voice like graveled honey.

Goddess help me, I knew exactly why my wife had fallen to him. His pervasive sexuality drenched and saturated my nerve endings. Even the smell of him made me hard. I’d avoided being anywhere near him these last few weeks, though I’d watched him constantly.

He stared down at me. “I assume he wants us to go now, before nightfall?” he inquired.

“Yes.” I pulled the knot on my tie loose. Shucking my coat, I brought my own gun out and left it in my dominant hand. “We have two hours to that end,” I went on.

Two hours would see my corpse inside that godforsaken cave.

If only I had a syringe full of sedative. I could hit him up, screw him, and he would never realize it. But, I didn’t have any of my chemical tricks. I had only my mako-engineered strength, my wits and my determination.

And my stupidity.

He led the way, of course. Such a dominant man could never leave the exploratory work to a scientist like me. I followed, my eyes on his broad back and my nerves screaming. I had little in my arsenal to subdue him. Short of a needle full of Hypnocol, there remained little to control him anyway. I had to rely upon timing and the element of surprise. He might be ill, but Valentine still stood as the stronger man.

Because I’d likely die tonight, I allowed my eyes to roam his form for once. He seemed packed into that leather outfit. I heard it creaking very slightly as he moved. His cloak managed to obscure much of my view, but I watched him, seeking glimpses of that slender, muscled frame. He moved like a cat even while sick and weak. I thrilled at how he would move while able-bodied, knowing I had little to do with that grace. He’d ever possessed an animal sort of poise.

I’d made him eternally young, augmented his reflexes and given him monstrous strength. Lucretia had given him demons, given him bloodlust and inhuman endurance. Together we’d made a thing beyond our imagining.

Well, she wasn’t here anymore. I’d have to deal with this creature all by myself. And, I knew how to start.

I let him get in advance of me. He paced ahead. Even weakened, he remained superior to me in nearly every way. Still, he had intelligence but little raw cunning. I took out my boot knife and poised it over my wrist. A quick slash and I began to spill red.

I put the knife away and waited for him to smell the blood.

I only had to wait a minute. He filled the passageway, his big body blocking what weak light we possessed. I looked at those crimson eyes, shuddering at the idea of what I had to do.

“What have you done?” he growled, advancing upon me.

“I’m killing myself,” I lied, stretching out. “Surely you don’t mind?”

His eyes tracked the steady stream of blood. His golden claw flexed.

“Go ahead,” I said. “It’s going to waste if you don’t.” I had to hold the wound open. My cells raced to repair me, attempting to close the injury.

“As if I’d drink of you, even starving,” he uttered. Still, he watched the blood.

“Oh, go ahead,” I urged. “It falls on bare rock and nourishes nothing like this.” Holding up my wrist, I bared the bloody gash at him. If he could attain the mako he needed this way, it would help, but it wouldn’t cure. He could only get the highest concentrations from saliva and semen. “You might as well take it, Valentine,” I went on. “Don’t you think you’ve earned the right to suck me dry? I’m just a monster, aren’t I?” I waved my bleeding arm around, noting with satisfaction how he kept his eyes upon it.

He leapt upon me. I barely had the time to register the movement. One moment I had my arm aloft, the next I felt his teeth piercing my bleeding wrist.

Oh, motherfucker….

That big, capable body covered mine, the smell of leather and undead, clean sweat enveloping me. Not for him the animal stink of decomposing proteins and bacteria. No, Valentine smelled of earth, of rain and copper and musk, of gunpowder and bloodlust.

I let him cover me, content to let him feed a few, precious moments. Let him build enough strength to make this an honorable fight. Let him swell with my blood before I tried to bear him down to the mossy rock and fuck him.

He groaned, low and deep. My cock jerked at the sound. His tongue swirling upon my flesh made me crazy with want. My heart beat a dark rhythm, pumping my life directly into his mouth. And, his groan became a growl. He straddled me, taking what he wanted and forgetting the man inside the animal.

I relaxed, letting him feed at his pleasure. I had so much blood, so many alien cells ready to replenish what he took. He could never, ever bleed me dry. As fast as he drank, I would renew.

Fuck all, this felt good. Some compound in his spit tried to keep me docile, tried to keep me at his mercy. I both pitied and envied his past victims. Oh, they had no doubt died, but they’d met the maker relaxed and physically satisfied. My erection throbbed with each pull he took from my veins. I twined a hand in his matted hair, feeling the slick ropes of black between my fingers.

He didn’t pay any attention to me dropping my hand, to me clutching at his shoulder. I felt the sinewy muscle coiling underneath, shuddering as the power I lent flooded his cells. Goddess, he was such a beast, such a mighty, fucking brute. I’d helped make him this way. Only fitting that I fell to him, fed him, nurtured that surging fiend.

He slowed, attaining some semblance of satiety. Slowly, I drew off my tie and draped it around his slender, straining neck. The black Wutainian silk looked right on him. I only prayed I could use it properly.

I wouldn’t live through this.

Valentine snarled as I drew the tie closed, strangling him. I heaved, bearing him onto his back in a flash. His claw lashed out. I felt the sting of metal rending my skin, the burn upon my cheek. Still, he was weak enough to wrestle down. Thank Shiva. I could do this, maybe.

“Don’t fight me,” I commanded, knowing it a useless order. My hands scrabbled at the ties to his leather trousers. “I’m not doing this for me.” I jerked his pants down, unable to keep from licking my lips at the sight of his swollen erection. He had a cock that women dreamed of and men cried for. That cock had been in my wife, making her happy. At least I would probably get to put mine in him before he killed me.

“You need mako, Valentine,” I panted, grabbing his hair and shoving his head back down to the powdery shale. “I’m the only one who can give it to you.”

“Get…off,” he growled, thrashing. His arm came up and cuffed my head. I reeled from the blow, seeing stars. The blood leaking from my cheek dripped down across his lips. Despite his resolve, he opened to allow its entrance. His tongue lashed out to taste my most intimate seepage. The ebony pupils in his crimson eyes dilated.

“I will,” I promised, cutting off more of his air with a quick jerk of my hand. The tie cut into him. “You’ll be the last person I lay.” As I spoke I freed myself, unconcerned with the cool air around us.

I rolled him, putting him face down in the shale. His beautiful, pale and hairless ass loomed in my vision, twin muscles flexing. The devil rose in me. I struck him, watching him jerk, watching that pink hole contract. “Truthfully,” I said, “I‘d love to do this while you’re willing and strong.” I grabbed for the lubricant, twisting the cap off with my teeth. I spat the top and squeezed the cold, slippery fluid on my dick. “You’re goddamn beautiful, Valentine,” I panted, slicking up. “You make a straight man as gay as a three-gil note.”

The lubricant container fell to the ground.

I poised at his entrance. Despite the gravity of the situation, I didn’t want to injure him. I’d damaged him enough already. “Relax,” I commanded. “Let loose. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He snarled, heaving up to try and throw me off. “You crazy, immoral son of a bitch,” he snarled, fighting me.

“Right as always, Turk,” I said, pushing against his untried opening while pulling back on my makeshift garrote. “Tell you what; you let me live and you can fuck me until I bleed.”

I shoved inside.

Valentine howled.

I stilled, letting him adjust. I wasn’t an idiot. No man or woman born could take a rough entry to their anus and like it. Still, his clenching, tight walls felt like heaven. I fought to remain motionless. “Goddamn it,” I swore. “Don’t you fucking dare move, Turk.”

He keened. His muscle clenched around me. It felt like he milked me, like he urged me on, but I knew better. I was a uke dominating a seme. Next time, should I be so blessed, he would bring blood from me.

Again I hauled back on his silken leash. “Be still,” I hissed. “I’m quite aware you don’t want this, and I’m not really in the mood to die.”

Valentine quieted, panting, his hand and claw gouging up great chunks of shale and limestone. “You fucking monster,” he growled. “When I get a hold on you there’ll be nothing left.”

“Fine,” I averred, pulling back a little. He had no reason to feel like the sole injured party, here. “You cling onto that hate, Turk. Think about how much I’ve wronged you while holding onto the memories of my wife’s sweet pussy.” I pushed back in, feeling him grip me. “She screamed your cursed name while I nailed her to our marriage bed. You scream my name now, and make it good.”

I drilled him, feeling him relent to my rhythm. He felt like nothing I’d ever experienced. His tight, sweet hole begged me for every thrust. I went easy, though I chewed my lip until it bled. I did not want to hurt him. Shiva help me, though he’d taken every bit of what I loved, I still didn’t want to make this bad for him.

“You loved her,” I panted, leaning over his back and delighting in how his muscles flexed. “I loved her too. You son of a bitch, I loved her first. I put a ring on her finger and elevated her to the stars while you lowered her to a set of spread legs and a mewling mouth.” So saying I thrust into him harder, that cruel part of me delighting in how he gasped. “I told her all my secrets, nurtured every weak and trembling part of her. You came along and ruined it, selfish, goddamn Shin-Ra Turk!”

Valentine cried out, attempting to throw me. I bore him down, jerking back on his air supply. “She’s dead now,” I said, reveling in how he shuddered. Yes, let him wallow in his lover’s plight. “She’s a crystallized shell of her former beauty and unable to touch you.” I reached down, gripping him hard. He bucked. “You go ahead and mourn her, Valentine,” I panted. “You mourn her and make her an ideal. I’ll still plug your virgin ass and make you like it.”

I stroked him with one hand and plunged into his prostate, feeling him collapse under the pleasure. I had him. Fuck everything, he felt good everywhere I touched him. His plump, long cock throbbed in my hand in time to his pulsing ass. “You know,” I whispered, leaning in to speak in his ear. “She’d love to see this. It wouldn’t matter who fucked whom. She loved us both. Seeing us this way would have made her come.”

Valentine cried out and I knew I’d struck a nerve. Never mind I spoke the truth.

I let go of the tie and took him by his hips, my fingers flexing upon that muscle and spare flesh. He’d let me fuck him now. He might even welcome it. I could live through tonight after all.

“You beautiful, fucking animal,” I breathed. “You come for me and you come for me alone.” I pumped him, delighting in his every heave and cry. I timed my motions, stroking him the hardest while withdrawing from his sweet, sweet ass. I wanted him sobbing underneath me. I wanted him to remember, to know. Lucretia might have had his idealistic, untried heart, but I would have his mind. I would have his lovely, undead body.

“I won’t hurt you, like she did,” I swore, gripping his sharp and slender hipbones. “I know what you need and I’ll give it.”

“Hojo,” he groaned. His hand and claw just tore the rock underneath us.

“That’s my name,” I said. “Remember it, Turk.”

He came. I felt his balls draw tight, his lovely, thick penis swell. White strands of ejaculate splashed the rocks. His scent came strong and hot.

The pressure inside me burst. I bent double, wrapping my greedy arms around him and holding him to me. I felt my insides twist, felt my balls emptying into him. I knew the mako he needed now surged, filling his body. In seconds he would roll me, probably kill me.

I would let him.

Valentine, breathing hard, collapsed. I rolled off, fastening my pants. That clinical part of my mind waited for a sign of his recovery, anticipated his revitalization. I moved him gently to his back, watching his leather-clad chest rising and falling. Slowly, I tucked him back in and fastened his pants, my hands shaking. No reason not to give him some of his dignity back.

Long moments I waited. His scarlet eyes opened to stare at the cavern ceiling. Hidden muscles coiling, he sat and looked straight into my face.

“Hojo,” he intoned.

“Valentine,” I returned.

He wiped his mouth with his thumb, his gaze never leaving mine. I shuddered, overwhelmed with the crime I’d committed and the pleasure I’d taken in it. Too, I felt satisfied for the first time in decades. If I had to die now, I’d die feeling mostly content.

Getting to his feet, Valentine stared down at me. I shied away from that crimson gaze, preferring to look at the ground we’d torn up instead.

“Cloud put you up to this,” he rumbled. “I heard him talking to you.”

“I accepted readily,” I countered. “Kill me or not, Turk, but get it over with either way. I’m too old to like games.”

He continued to look at me.

A gloved hand appeared in my vision.

“So am I,” he intoned.