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Back in Black	By : mizperceived Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 892 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII. I do not gain any profit from this writing.

Chapter List
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Tseng did his best to mask the shock of being taken unawares by the pale man. By appearances you could not tell that his heart was thundering in his chest or that his toes curled in his shoes when he heard the timbre of the Valentine’s rich baritone voice. No, by all accounts Tseng was still the calm, cool and collected Director that he always was, day in and day out.
Vincent bit back the frown that was forming on his lips. He hoped to get some sort of rise out of Tseng. ‘What exact kind of rise did you wish for, host?’ Chaos teased in his mind. Vincent ignored the mental taunt as he leaned in closer to the Director. It was then that he felt the cold steel barrel of Tseng’s .357 Glock pressed underneath his jawbone, tipping his head backwards.
“You have five seconds to give me a valid reason why I should not redecorate my office in your blood,” Tseng growled, but still had yet to remove the safety from the firearm.
Vincent didn’t bother trying to suppress the toothy grin that shone brightly in the dark room. The Wutain was completely oblivious to how his actions stirred the man before him. Vincent truly was a caged beast, with or without his inner demons. When he was younger, he was the one to seek out the dangerous side of life. It was what had drawn him to the Turks decades ago. But that was a thought for another time, right now he focused on the feel of the gun digging into his flesh and the cold look in eyes so dark they could be considered black.
“Director,” Vincent purred. “Do you really want to play ‘Whose has the bigger gun’ with me?’ I assure you, I am most willing to… show you mine.”
Taken aback by the innuendo-laden comment, Tseng withdrew his sidearm from Vincent’s neck and took a step around the man. The Director eyed Vincent cautiously, if it was anyone else; Tseng would have believed that the man was flirting with him just now, but not this man. Never this man.
“Fine,” Tseng muttered. The simple word caused Vincent to arch a bemused eyebrow.
“Did you just accep-“
“What is it you wish to speak with me about?” Tseng easily cut off Vincent’s line of questioning. The Wutain gracefully sat down in his massive desk chair. Turning on the desk lamp, he let a minimal but sufficient amount of ambient lighting in the room. He placed his gun down on the surface of the desk before leaning back and crossing on leg over the other. Elbows resting on the arms of the chair, he intertwined his fingers and rested them on his torso as he leaned back in the chair, coolly eyeing Vincent.
The sharpshooter watched the how Tseng moved around with feline grace. The Wutain’s fluid movements did nothing to ease Vincent’s growing erection. It only served to help his imagination to start running. Is Tseng the type to arch his back when he released his pleasure or was he the type to bow his back, huddle forward and shudder as his sprang forth he wondered. Chaos purred as the visuals played through his mind.
With a flick of his wrist, Vincent silently asked for the approval to seat himself down. At Tseng’s nod, Vincent walked behind the man’s desk and made himself comfortable but sitting on the writing back, directly facing the other.
The Wutai sat up as Vincent approached. The man walked around the desk as if he owned it! Tseng’s patience was growing thin as the seconds ticked by.
“Would you like to see what it’s like to sit in the fucking chair too?” he snapped.
Vincent blinked at the outburst before shyly looking away and muttering that he wanted “to see what it’s like to sit in your lap”. He looked at the Director, certain that his mumbled words weren’t understood he crossed his arms over his chest, gauntlet covered hand tapping lightly on his bicep as he formed the question in his head.
Knowing that bluntness is what Tseng appreciated the most, especially after having to play mind games with Rufus for years, Vincent pressed forward and put his superior on the spot.
“Why do you hate me so much?”
Not letting a minute pass, Vincent tilted his head to the side and continued his questioning.
“Is there something that I have done or said in the past that has offended you so greatly that you treat me like a piece of shit? Does my presence abhor you?” Vincent rocked back in his seating position and waited for the other man to answer him.
Tseng was startled by the questions. Abhor him? To Tseng, Vincent was a beautiful man, too beautiful. Tseng thought Vincent looked like a fallen angel, with his haphazard raven locks flowing about him, his ethereally pale skin and those vermillion eyes rimmed with those thick kohl colored lashes. The Wutain snorted audibly at the ironic thought of Vincent being a fallen angel given the man’s history.
Ignoring the other questions Vincent presented him with, because if Tseng was honest with himself, he would be the first to admit that he had been harsh and downright rude in his interaction with the Turk.
“Why did you join the Turks?” Tseng asked instead.
Vincent’s lips turned down and his brows furrowed. Moving his hands down to rest on either side of his hips, Vincent looked for signs that Tseng was messing with him before he answered him.
“Well, my father was a scientist for ShinRa and I had shower profic-“
“I meant now.” Tseng cut him off.
“Oh,” Vincent chuckled lightly as his misunderstanding. “I do apologize but you really do need to be specific on these things,” he teased as he leaned his head towards the Wutain and playfully winked at him. Recovering his stoic nature, a mask of seriousness descended on his face. ‘Do I tell him?’ he asked Chaos. For the first time in decades, Chaos decided to remain silent. The demon host visibly scowled.
Taking a breath, Vincent did his best to appear nonchalant as he shrugged and answered, “Because of you.”
“Me?” Tseng frowned before he looked up at Vincent with a look of utter loathing. “If you think I’ll let you take my Turks away from me Valentine…”
“What?” Vincent asked in shock.
“You heard me,” Tseng sneered as he stood up quickly, his desk chair violently colliding with the wall. The Wutain slammed his palms on the desk, their fingertips nearly touching. Leaning in, he sneered in Vincent’s face before he spat, “You’ll never be Director of this department. My Turks will never be under your command.”
“Shiva, he’s so sexy when he’s pissed,” Vincent breathed. When Tseng’s head snapped back, Vincent realized his error. “I said that out loud didn’t I? That was meant for Chaos.”
“What game are you trying to play Valentine? You’ve made it clear that you want my position as Director,” The Wutain shook in anger.
“Is that what you think? Of course you do,” Vincent sneered back. “Tseng, I don’t want your position. Far from it,” he protested vehemently. “Besides the fact that I don’t want it and think you’re the only one that could do this job, how long do you think Reno would live under my command,” he said dryly.
“Then why? You said it had to do with me, explain yourself.” Tseng was still near enough that he could feel the heat emanating from the gunner’s body that was seated so casually on his desk. He heard Vincent’s slip and it shot straight to his groin but he tried to hammer the lust that started pumping adrenaline through his veins. He hadn’t meant to say that, or at least that’s what the man admitted.
“When was the last time you had sex?” Vincent asked, taking a page out of the Director’s book by answering a question with a question.
“What does that…” seeing the serious look on the gunner’s face Tseng at least feigned thinking about the answer. “I don’t remember,” he pursed his lips in annoyance.
“Thirty five years, ten months, twenty two days and about six hours for me,” Vincent laughed mirthlessly.
“Holy shit,” Tseng mumbled, partly in awe and partly in pity. Granted, Tseng’s sex life hadn’t been overly busy in the last few years. Having the world being almost obliterated can cut into one’s social calendar, sadly.
“Hn. So you see Tseng,” Vincent purred as he reached out to finger the younger man’s tie, dragging his clawed tips down the silken material before reaching the pointed end. Crimson colored eyes watched the golden talons move against the pitch black tie before grasping the end and slowing rotating his hand to twine the material around his fist. “I don’t want to take your position.”
“What is it you want?” Tseng shocked himself with how husky his own voice sounded. Blood rushed throughout his body only to focus on his lower body, heat and desire coiling in his stomach as Vincent pulled his body closer. Vincent stopped pulling the Wutain when the younger man’s body pressed as close to his. Tseng stood between Vincent’s widespread legs, wanting to grind himself against the younger man but refraining.
“I want to take you,” Vincent mumbled against the plum colored lips of the other man, “in as many positions as you’ll let me. And you will let me, won’t you?”

A/N: Will they? Won’t they?
Also, I'm guesstimating at the time for Vincent. 30 years snoozing, from game to AC is 2 years, then to Dirge is 1 year = 33 years and figuring that Hojo and Lucrecia played "Operation" the home version on his for a year or so.
By the way, I know technically Chaos was removed but bleh. Chaos is like his own personal Jiminy Cricket. A big, scary demonic like cricket. o.O
Many thanks to the reviewers (DTE, Madisuzy, and Silvershi) and those strong but silent types that have voted for this story! =)
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Back in Black