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Final Fantasy VII: Angelic Threnody	By : DarkSeraphim1 Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1315 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core, Before Crisis, or Dirge of Cerberus. I do not profit from the writing and/or posting of this fic. I am just a humble fan paying tribute to another's wonderful creations.

Chapter List
- 22
- 23
- 24
Chapter Twenty Three
            There is no hate, only joy. For you are beloved by the goddess. Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds.’ -Loveless Act II
            An obnoxious beeping sound pulled Sephiroth out of a sound slumber. He felt Genesis stir beside him and glanced his way, only to find sleep-heavy blue eyes narrowing on him in a disgruntled glare. “Who the hell is calling you at the crack of fucking dawn?” he demanded angrily.
            Sephiroth could only shrug his ignorance as he slipped out of bed and searched for his trench coat. He found it on the floor not too far from Genesis’ side of the bed, and he smiled briefly as he thought of the circumstances surrounding its removal. He pulled the PHS out of the inside pocket and flipped it open, surprised to find an email message from Cloud waiting for him. He opened it and sat back on the bed, yawning as he automatically lifted his arm to make room for the other man.
            Genesis quickly scooted closer, all too curious as to who was calling his lover before the sun had even risen. He curled around Sephiroth, whose arm came down and immediately pulled him closer. Genesis smiled to himself briefly as Sephiroth switched the phone to his right hand and held it where they could view the screen together.
            “It’s from Cloud,” Sephiroth said in belated explanation, unable to hide the quiet excitement in his voice as he added, “He says that he thinks the boys are in Junon, and he sent an attachment that he wants me to look over.”
            Genesis made a soft sound of encouragement and watched as Sephiroth pulled the attachment up. He had to fight to make his tired eyes focus on the too-small screen, but once he did, they widened with surprise. “Is he serious?”
            Seph grunted, then said, “Cloud is always serious, Gen.”
            “An underwater mako reactor,” he murmured with wonder. “Wouldn’t that be a sight to see? Do you think it’s possible?”
            “A reactor? No,” Sephiroth answered bluntly. “But an underwater research facility, on the other hand, is more than plausible.”
            “Oh, my.” Genesis shifted just enough so that he was sitting beside him instead draped over him. “We’ve found them, Seph. We’ve found your boys.”
            “Perhaps,” Sephiroth allowed, smiling faintly at his lover’s enthusiasm, even as he told himself not to hope. “We won’t know for sure until we’ve researched the possibility more thoroughly, Genesis,” he reminded him gently.
            Genesis sniffed with mock disdain and tossed his fiery head spiritedly. “Killjoy.”
            Sephiroth laughed quietly, just the reaction Genesis had been hoping for. He slid his arms around the other man and squeezed him gently, reminding him that he wasn’t alone, that he was here for him. Sephiroth snapped the phone closed and set it on the nightstand, turning to pull the smaller man more firmly against him. “Are you truly so eager to meet my clones?” he asked with humor.
            “Of course, I want to meet your kids, Seph.” Genesis blinked in what he hoped was an innocent manner. “I’m looking forward to being a step-daddy, you know.”
            “A. . .step-daddy?” Sephiroth echoed, his lips curling at the edges despite his best attempts to keep a straight face. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard that term before, Genesis. Perhaps, you could elaborate?”
            Genesis snorted. “Elaborate this,” he said as he raised his hand and extended his middle finger.
            The gesture startled a laugh out of Sephiroth as he grabbed the offending hand and pulled him onto his lap. “Genesis, you are truly unique,” he told him as he hugged him to him. “I have never met another like you, and I don’t believe that I ever will.”
            “Of course, not.” Genesis drew back, one auburn brow raised in an imperious manner. “Much like you, moonbeam, I am one of a kind.”
            The laughter died abruptly, leaving Sephiroth to gaze down at him with suddenly serious green eyes. Genesis sighed heavily as he realized how his lover must have taken his words. “I didn’t mean to remind you of your differences, Seph. I was only trying to make you laugh. I’m sorry,” he added helplessly.
            “Don’t be.” Sephiroth brushed his lips over the smooth skin of Genesis’ forehead and pulled him close once more. “Although I have often wished that I could be more. . . normal, I realized long ago that it was better just to be me. I would not have attracted you had I been anyone other than myself, and that is enough to make me content with who I am.”
            Genesis sighed again, this time happily, at the reminder of how important he was to the man he loved. “You shouldn’t say things like that, you know,” he murmured quietly. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Seph, normal or not.”
            Sephiroth didn’t answer, merely lowered them both to the mattress and held him close. He ran his hands down the slim length of Genesis’ subtly muscled back, but there was nothing sexual in the lingering, sweeping caresses. He drew comfort from the silken skin pressed against his own, and he hoped that he was giving Genesis the same. As his kitten let out a breathy sigh and melted against him, he thought that perhaps he was.
            “We’ll find them,” Genesis whispered in reassurance. He pressed his ear to the steady thump of his lover’s heart and closed his eyes. “We’ll find them, and give them all the love we never had, and they’ll be happy, Seph.”
            Sephiroth let out a quiet breath above him. “I hope so,” he murmured at length, smiling faintly as Genesis tightened the arm he’d thrown across his chest. He laid his hand over that long limb, marveling as he always had at the softness of his kitten’s skin, which was such a startling contrast to the fiery intensity of his personality.
            “It’ll all work out, Sephiroth. You’ll see.” Genesis pressing his lips to the smooth skin which covered his lover’s heart. It leapt at the soft the soft caress, responding to him as fiercely as Sephiroth himself always had, before settling back into a more normal rhythm. As afraid as he’d been of losing himself to Sephiroth, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere but where he was right at this moment, pressed against the pale perfection of Sephiroth’s sculpted body. Yep, he thought with a smug smile, life was damned good, and it was only going to get better.
            Sephiroth looked down at the slender man in his arms, tracing the arch of his cheek with warm emerald eyes. “What are you smiling for?” he asked, his deep voice quiet in the darkness which surrounded them, but no less affectionate for its lack of volume.
            “You’re kidding, right?” The smile only grew as Genesis added, “I got laid last night—twice—got the world’s best blowjob, got to brush out your hair—which was quite the turn-on, I might add—found out that I’ve got three step-sons when I never thought I’d have kids, and we’re about to run away together in a terribly romantic fashion. Why wouldn’t I be smiling?”
            There was a pause above him before Sephiroth said, “I don’t have a response for that, Genesis.”
            “Good.” Genesis raised his head just enough to yawn before sprawling against him once more. “I love you, Seph, but I’m really fucking tired, and I’m going back to sleep now.”
            The words were mumbled into his chest, muffled by his skin and the hair that Genesis reached up to pull around him like a curtain, and Sephiroth found himself smiling contentedly into the pre-dawn dark. They had been through so much together, had so often found themselves at odds with one another, that he would never again take their time together for granted. These rare moments were to be treasured, cherished, as was the man who had made them possible.
            He found himself thinking of the confrontation in Mako Reactor 5 so many years ago, and the smile began to fade. Genesis’ words about wanting the “Gift of the Goddess” had meant nothing to him then. He had dismissed them as products of Genesis’ increasingly unbalanced mental state, and the obsession his lover had always had with Loveless. He hadn’t known at the time just how true to life that ridiculous epic would become.
            ‘One will be taken prisoner, one will take flight, and one will become the hero. If we were to enact it, would I be the one to play the hero, or would you?’
            It wasn’t until months later, when he had found himself striking Zack down in the Nibelheim reactor, that he had realized just how right Genesis had been. Angeal had taken flight in the release of death, while he himself had become prisoner to a power he hadn’t understood. Genesis had become the hero, the Goddess’ avenging crimson angel, a role he had spent his entire life preparing for. And ultimately, tragically, he had failed.
            Genesis’ own feelings had doomed the very Goddess he had been so eager to serve. His soul hadn’t been corrupted so much by vengeance as by his own uncontrollable passions. His love for Sephiroth had been tainted by ambition, pride, and that damnedable jealousy, but in the end, none of that had mattered. The Planet had demanded the ultimate sacrifice of him, and had paid the price for its arrogance. In forcing Genesis to betray that love, Gaia had sealed its own doom.
            In the year between Genesis’ desertion and his own death, Sephiroth had come to loathe Loveless, and the hold it had had on the man he loved. He’d believed that Genesis had become delusional, that he’d lost himself in the absurdity of his favorite poem. It had taken eight years of enforced solitude for Sephiroth to realize that Genesis had clung to Loveless because he believed that it was all he had left. He had believed himself to be a monster, and had used Loveless to search for his ancient Goddess, and the blessing he believed would save him from his horrific fate.
            Discovering the truth behind he and Angeal’s birth had wrought just as much damage, if not more, than the degradation itself had. Genesis had already been dissatisfied with his life. The war with Wutai had been dragging on for nine years at that point, and Genesis still hadn’t attained the glory that he’d believed was his due. He had been—and still was—one of Shinra’s most powerful warriors, yet his heroic deeds had always been overshadowed by the press’ love for their “Silver General”.
            Their relationship, which had never been easy, had become even more strained after his injury in the VR Room. Genesis had actually begun to avoid him then, coming up with excuses to avoid being alone with him, clinging to Angeal like a fiery shadow, using him as a buffer to avoid confrontation, when he had always thrived on such chaos before. It had been so unlike him that Sephiroth had found himself at a loss as to how he should deal with his wayward lover.
            Sephiroth could still remember how hurt he had been, how desperate and angry and confused he had felt by his lover’s reticence. It had almost seemed as though Genesis were afraid of him, and that realization had hurt most of all. Genesis and Angeal were the only two people who had ever truly known him, and he had been devastated when they had closed ranks on him. He hadn’t understood what he’d done to deserve such treatment, and he had reacted badly.
            Unfortunately, he had allowed the more dominant side of his personality to take over. He had begun to actively pursue the Genesis, pushing much too hard for his lover’s fragile state of mind. He had ignored Angeal’s pleas to give him time, certain that doing so would only widen the gulf between them. Instead, his overbearing actions had precipitated the very thing he had been so desperate to avoid.
            Genesis had finally left him. He had gone to Lazard and requested permission to leave for Wutai five weeks early. It had been granted, and suddenly, Genesis was no longer there. Sephiroth had been devastated when Lazard had informed that Genesis was gone, but that was nothing compared to the agony he had felt when he’d learned that his lover had deserted Shinra. He hadn’t known about the degradation, and he had blamed himself, convinced that he had driven Genesis away from him for good.
            It had broken his heart all over again when he’d learned the truth behind his lover’s flight. A part of him had been disgusted to discover that Genesis could create copies of himself, especially once the shock of having to kill men who wore his love’s face had worn off. He had considered those copies abominations, and yet, he hadn’t been able to view Genesis himself that way. He had blamed Hollander, Gillian Hewley, Shinra Inc., Hojo, everyone but Genesis himself for what he had become. Especially, once honor-bound Angeal deserted to join him.
            But he had been angry. Angeal had left him without a word, too, deserting in the middle of Zack’s SOLDIER evaluation test. He remembered looking down at two dead Genesis’ copies and thinking that he should have known, that he should have seen this coming. Angeal had wrung a promise out of him to take care of Zack just before they had left for Fort Tamblin, and it had become obvious to him that Angeal had already been in contact with Genesis, and that the two had planned his desertion beforehand. Angeal had betrayed them all.
            He’d said as much to Zack, listening to boy’s outraged denials with little sympathy. He had channeled all of his pain into rage, and it had taken every last bit of self-control he’d possessed not to give into it. And yet, for all of his anger, he had surprised himself by allowing Zack to become close to him. They had become friends, although he had always kept a small distance between them, for fear of being hurt once again. Zack had respected his wishes and let him keep that distance, dealing with his own pain and sense of betrayal all the while.
            Yet, the young First had never once allowed himself to believe that Angeal’s questionable actions were truly duplicitous. He had believed in his mentor’s—his lover’s—sense of honor, and he had never given up hope that Angeal might one day return to them. Sephiroth had known better, but he hadn’t voiced his thoughts for fear of adding to the boy’s already considerable pain.
            In the end, Zack had been right. Angeal hadn’t been fighting against them, as Genesis had, but had been working to bring Genesis back into the fold. Not necessarily back to Shinra, but back to himself, to the man he had once been. Sephiroth had been ashamed of himself once he’d learned the truth, but his pride had prevented him from apologizing, as he’d known he should. Angeal had died without knowing that Sephiroth still cared for him, that he understood, and that was yet another thing that would always haunt him.
            He felt Genesis stir against him and automatically loosened his hold, waiting patiently for his restless lover to reposition himself. Genesis squirmed until his face was buried in the fall of hair that flowed over his shoulders, muttering incoherently as he threw a shapely leg across his hips. Sephiroth lowered a hand to the firm lines of his thigh, rubbing his thumb over the petal-soft skin in a habitual, almost absent caress, yet he was fully aware of the lithe form that rested against his own.
            He had loved Genesis for such a long time, he thought fatalistically, falling before he’d even known what love was. The instant physical attraction, their bodies calling to one another’s on the most basic, primal of levels, the bewildering tangle of passionately conflicting emotions that accompanied it, had all been elements of a greater truth.
            Genesis was his destiny. He could no more separate himself from his love for his kitten than he could from the Jenova genes that were such an integral part of his physical makeup. Genesis was a part of him, perhaps the best part, and he always would be.
            Sephiroth looked down at the crown of the fiery head that rested so trustingly against him and whispered, “Aishiteru, koneko.”
            “I love you, too,” came the unexpected, muffled response. “Now, shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”
            Shaking with quiet laughter, Sephiroth pressed his lips to his lover’s forehead, closed his eyes, and did just that.
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            “Yo.”
            Cloud looked up from the textbook he was reading—a dry, one-sided account of the first two years of the war with Wutai—to find Reno standing on the other side of the table. “Reno,” he greeted quietly, marking the page and closing the book. He glanced around the library, lowering his voice as he added, “Did you find anything?”
            “Maybe.” Aquamarine eyes moved over him, something resembling concern flashing through their vivid depths, as he slid into a chair opposite of him. “Rufus went through the Prez’s personal computer and came up with another blueprint for the underwater mako reactor project. It looks like his old man was actually crazy enough to try to build it.”
            He released a slow breath, trying to control his suddenly racing pulse. “And?” he questioned as calmly as he could.
            “And it was friggin’ expensive, yo.” Reno shook his red head, sending his low ponytail swinging behind him. “The Prez is a real piece of work. He spent over eight billion gil trying to build the place. The file said that the project was halted due to ‘safety concerns’, but the boss man found a record of regular shipments to Junon, and no explanation for them.”
            “I knew it.” Cloud began to gather his things, shoving them into the item bag he was never without. “You’ve got the plans with you?”
            Reno looked insulted as he said, “How many times do I have to remind you that I’m a Turk, yo?”
            Cloud took that as a “yes”. He pushed his chair back as he stood, securing the bag on the belt of his weapon’s harness. “We need to tell Sephiroth about this. He’ll know what to do.”
            He walked away from the table, pausing as he realized that Reno hadn’t moved. “You coming or what?” he asked impatiently.
            “Yeah, I’m comin’.” Reno stood from his usual slouch, coming up to walk beside him. “By the way, the blue-prints aren’t all we found.”
            Cloud slanted him a veiled glance. “What do you mean?” he asked warily.
            “I found a pic of the Nibelheim research team.” Reno reached into his pocket and retrieved a carefully folded piece of paper. “The quality sucks, but it’s got Sephiroth’s mother in there—his real mother, I mean. Valentine’s there, too. In the background, though.”
            Cloud couldn’t deny his curiosity as he took the paper and unfolded it. There was Professor Gast, whom he recognized from the tapes AVALANCHE had found in the Snowy Village near the Icicle Inn, surrounded by all the people who had made the Jenova Project possible. Professor Hojo stood on his left side, wearing a typically arrogant sneer, while on Gast’s right was Sephiroth’s obviously pregnant mother, Dr. Lucrecia Crescent. Clustered around them were a bevy of scientists he didn’t know, but one slim figure stood out, even though he was ensconced in the shadows he would one day become all too familiar with.
            He was startled to note how young Vincent looked. His black hair was cut close to his face, still long, but not as long as he would wear it some thirty years after his death. Instead of the familiar black leather costume and tattered scarlet cape, he was wearing a plain black suit which only emphasized his slender frame. Only his beyond-pale skin, the pretty yet masculine features—traits he shared with his only child—and his crimson eyes were the same.
            And even though he stood in the background as a silent sentinel, Cloud could see the unhappiness that he hadn’t yet learned to hide. The picture had obviously been taken after Lucrecia had gone back to her husband, and it broke Cloud’s heart to actually see the heartbreak that the man he knew had concealed so well.
            “Makes you feel freakin’ awful, doesn’t it?” Reno asked quietly at his side.
            “Yeah,” he agreed softly, “it does.”
            He went to return the picture, and the other man waved him off. “Keep it, yo. You can give it to Sephiroth, or keep it for Valentine, or use it as friggin’ toilet paper, for all I care. I don’t want it.”
            Cloud looked down at the picture before folding it and tucking it into his back pocket. “Thanks,” he murmured simply.
            Reno only snorted. “When did you start carrying Baby’s sword with yours, yo?”
            Cloud was startled before he remembered the cheap scabbard he’d bought for Souba that morning in the Shinra commissary. “I didn’t like the thought of leaving Souba behind in my room,” he mumbled softly, smiling as last night’s bizarrely reassuring dream returned to him. “I want it with me, in case we have to leave Midgar suddenly.”
            “Uh-huh.” Reno rolled his eyes as they left the library, thinking that Cloud’s taste in men—if you could call a sixteen-year-old boy that—was just as bad as Sephiroth’s. He glanced around the hallway before asking his next question. “So, what are you gonna do if the aging experiments didn’t work, and Baby’s still a nine-year-old?”

            “He’s not,” came the clipped response.
            “And if he is?” Reno persisted. “What then?”
            “Then, I’ll wait.” Cloud slid him a sidelong glance, his bright blue eyes veiled as he added, “I love him, Reno. I’ll wait as long as I need to.”
            Reno nodded, his fox-like features taking on a thoughtful cast. “I got ya, yo. I feel the same way about Boss Man.”
            Cloud grunted at that. “At least, you didn’t say you felt the same way about Sephiroth. That might have made me sick.”
            “Then, prepare to start hurling, buddy.” Reno grinned hugely as he added, “I might not love His Royal Hotness, but I’m definitely going to do him someday. That’s a promise, yo.”
            “Ugh!” Cloud shuddered with disgust at the very thought of it. “You’ve got some serious issues, Reno. Real serious.”
            “Hey, I’m a sucker for hot blondes. You know that, Strife.” They came to a halt before the two elevators and Reno hit the ’up’ arrow before leaning against the panel. “Just once, I’m wanna know what it feels like to play with all that damned hair, yo.”
            Cloud snorted loudly. “I suppose you’ll expect me to save you when he tries to kill you in retaliation?”
            “’Course, yo. You’re the hero, that’s your job. Just promise to let me finish, first, ‘k?”
            A ding sounded as the elevator arrived, and Cloud gratefully slid through the doors before they’d even fully opened. Reno followed, swiping his keycard and stabbing the button for the 79^th floor with undisguised eagerness, and Cloud glared at him hotly. “Would you stop talking about Sephiroth and sex?” he hissed in a low voice. “You’re freaking me out here!”
            Reno laughed at that, a lazy sound that belied the serious look in his blue-green eyes. “The General was my first big crush, Cloud. If I ever get the chance, I’ll take it, believe me.”
            Cloud only sighed as he leaned back against the glass enclosure. “Alright, Turk, tell me what makes Sephiroth so damned attractive to you. Explain it to me—if you can—because I sure as hell don’t understand it.”
            The other man merely shrugged, his gaze moving to the numbers above the door, a green light marking the elevator’s progress every few seconds. “He’s fucking hot, for one. He’s a badass, for another. I’ve always had a thing for powerful men—hence the whole thing with you-know-who. And he’s only been with one other guy.”
            Reno turned his head and caught his gaze. “He’s practically a virgin, and that’s one hellova friggin’ turn-on. I mean, think of all the things I could teach him. And then there’s the hair. . .”
            His voice trailed off as he looked away, a dreamy look on his face, and Cloud could only shake his head. He understood all too well how strong the lure of that first crush could be. It was what had caused him to hide behind his helmet on that ill-fated mission in his hometown. He hadn’t wanted Tifa to see him in his Shinra BDU’s and realize that he hadn’t made it into SOLDIER like he’d sworn to.
            Looking back on it now, it was enough to make Cloud want to cry. He had been so young back then, innocent even. He’d had no idea just how harsh the world truly was, or just how little his feelings for the mayor’s daughter really meant. It wasn’t until he’d met Aerith that he’d understood love as it was meant to be, and part of that love hadn’t been his feelings at all, but remnants of Zack’s. Nothing and no one—not even his friendship with Vincent—had prepared him for the sheer force of his passion for a slight, mentally unbalanced boy of sixteen.
            Kadaj, he thought with another sigh. Gods, but he missed him. Everything about the boy had called to him on levels that he hadn’t even realized existed inside of him. The intensity of his feelings had swept away almost everything but him. Not even his mention of Mother, which had almost been as terrifying as his uncanny resemblance to Sephiroth, would have been enough to keep him away. If Kadaj himself hadn’t precipitated the end—by standing in the middle of her church and demanding his obsequiousness—Cloud doubted that he would have found the strength of will to walk away. Sadly, there times when he almost wished he hadn’t.
            “Yo, Strife?” Cloud blinked, focusing on Reno with surprise. The Turk was holding the elevator doors open, his head cocked to one side, a compassionate look on his face. “You still with me?”
            He narrowed his eyes in warning and swept past him, silently daring him to speak. Surprisingly, Reno kept his mouth shut and followed silently. Cloud didn’t know why, and he didn’t particularly care. So long as he didn’t give him any more shit about his choice of lovers, they were good.
            Reno actually ran the last few feet to Sephiroth’s front door before shoving his hands in his pockets and slouching in a more characteristic manner. Cloud rolled his eyes as he reached into the pocket of his Shinra-issue BDU’s and retrieved the card key that Sephiroth had given him—not Reno—weeks ago. Reno might be their ally, but Sephiroth would probably never fully trust him, simply because he was a Turk.
            “You know, he might not even be home,” Cloud couldn’t resist pointing out.
            Reno lifted his left hand and slowly extended his middle finger, and Cloud couldn’t help but laugh in response. “Alright, alright, I’m opening the door.”
            He slid the card key through the electronic lock, surprised to find that the door was already unlocked. Sephiroth never left his door unlocked. He shared a quick look with Reno, who already had his baton out and extended to full length, and quietly pulled First Tsurugi’s main blade from its sheathe. He grasped the handle, turned the knob slowly, and shoved the door open.
            Sephiroth looked up from his computer, two silver brows lifted in an unbearably regal manner, even as the gesture was echoed by the half-naked man who stood at his back. Cloud blushed profusely as he realized that Genesis was brushing Sephiroth’s hair and began to stumble over an apology. At his side, Reno groaned loudly with disappointment. “You have got to be kidding me, yo. What’s General Asshole doing here?”
            Cloud’s bright blue gaze shot to Genesis, expecting an explosion of temper. Instead, the redheaded first merely smiled with smug arrogance and ran a bare hand over the other man’s shoulder in an unmistakable gesture of possession. “Why, Sephiroth, of course,” he answered with an amused quirk of his brow. “What are you doing here, street-rat?”
            Reno scowled and took a step forward, his intent obvious, and Cloud quickly stuck an arm out to halt him. “We’ll come back later,” he said hastily, turning and grabbing Reno’s arm.
            “Wait.” Cloud turned back to see Sephiroth practically prying Genesis’ hands from his hair, exasperation shaping his features as he finally freed himself. The Nightmare finally stood, looking surprisingly normal in casual clothes, and Cloud realized that this was the first time he had ever seen the other man out of uniform. “We have been researching the data you sent me, and I believe we may have found something.”
            We? Cloud’s eyes darted to Genesis’, whose expression had changed from arrogance to sympathy, and his heart sunk. “You told him?” he asked in a low, angry voice.
            Sephiroth hesitated, and Genesis stepped forward. “He told me only what he had to,” he assured him in a surprisingly kind voice. “Sephiroth might not be willing to lie, but you’d be surprised what he can accomplish with the simple act of omission.”
            At his lover’s surprised look, Genesis uttered a low laugh. “What, you thought I didn’t know?” He shook his red head and ran a hand over the taller man’s hair before turning back to Cloud. “He only told me that you know the youngest of his. . .children, and that he believed that you and his boys were once Hojo’s prisoners in Nibelheim. Whatever else you may have told him, I can assure you, it has remained safe with him.”
            Cloud released a slow breath, hiding his relief as he nodded. He didn’t like it, especially considering that only yesterday the two men hadn’t been speaking, but there was nothing he could do about it. Getting angry now would only damage the fragile truce between he and Sephiroth, and that would be a very stupid thing to do. He needed Sephiroth’s help, almost as much as Jenova’s Child needed his.
            “What did you find?” he asked at last, lifting mako-bright blue eyes to his nemesis’.
            “A record of a failed experiment to splice the boys’ genetics with those of a series of aquatic creatures.” Sephiroth’s expression showed relief as he half-turned and gestured towards the computer. “Come see for yourself.”
            Cloud slanted Reno a warning look and went to the computer, sheathing First Tsurugi in an absent, habitual gesture that betrayed his experience with the weapon. He ignored the empty chair and settled for leaning over the desk. He read the file with a growing sense of disgust. Hojo had decided that, because of the unpredictability of the seasonal storms in the Central Ocean, he wanted to be sure that his subjects survived in the event that the dome was compromised. The experiment had been a complete failure, and the project had been scrapped as a result.
            “I knew it!” he declared under his breath. He pushed himself away from the desk, swinging around to nail Sephiroth under a steady glare. “We need to get them out there.” His gaze flicked to Genesis before meeting his nemesis’ once more. “How much does he know?”
            “Enough,” Sephiroth answered, a warning in his quiet voice as he added, “You may speak freely, Cloud. Genesis is on our side in this.”
            “Shit!” came the heartfelt response as Reno approached them. “You told him about Boss Man, too?”
            Sephiroth merely pinned him under an intense green stare and Reno folded with disgusting ease. “Whatever, yo. Let’s get this done already.”
            Cloud frowned at the easy capitulation. He hadn’t realized that Reno’s crush went that deep. “How long until Rufus is ready to make his move?” he asked with resignation.
            “Soon,” Reno answered, shrugging as he added, “He wants to have as few casualties as possible, so he’s trying to talk Lazard into okaying a mass SOLDIER exercise.”
            That caught Genesis’ attention. “Where, exactly?” he asked, moving to sit on the arm of the sofa.
            “The southern mountains, near Fort Condor,” Reno answered with a jealous glare. “He wants the mountain range between the army and Midgar, in case word of our plan leaks out.”
            “I’ll talk to Lazard,” Sephiroth said decisively. “I’m sure I can convince him to comply with Rufus’ request.”
            Genesis lifted a brow at that. “You’re not going to use Masamune to intimidate our poor Director, are you?” he queried with obvious amusement.
            “Of course not.” Sephiroth frowned down at him. “I’m sure that I can obtain Lazard’s assistance without resorting to force. He is as unhappy with President Shinra as we are.”
            “I don’t blame him for that one,” the other First muttered under his breath.
            Sephiroth smiled faintly in response. “Nor do I, Genesis.”
            Cloud tilted his head to the side, silently cursing his swiss-cheese memory as he asked, “What does Director Lazard have against The President?”
            “Gods, but your memory sucks, Strife.” Cloud sent Reno a dark look, silently reminding him of all the things Genesis didn’t know, and he hastily explained, “Lazard is The Prez’s illegitimate son, yo.”
            Cloud only nodded, causing his golden spikes to sway. That certainly explained all of the family-oriented emails The Director was always sending to Zack and the other SOLDIERS. “Does Rufus know?” he asked at length.
            “Yeah,” Reno answered, shrugging his thin shoulders as he added, “Lazard won’t even talk to him about it, but there’s really nothing Rufus can do for him until he’s in the President’s chair, anyway.”
            “It won’t be long,” Sephiroth stated flatly. At Cloud’s skeptical look, he added, “I am as eager as you to see them, Cloud. I assure you, I will not allow Rufus to tarry much longer. He will hold up his end of the bargain, or he will answer to me.”
            “Hey!” Reno protested indignantly. “Rufus is solid, yo. He’ll do his part.”
            Three pairs of mako-powered eyes turned his way, each glowing as they locked onto him, and he took a hasty step back. “Chill, guys.” He holstered the EMR and held both hands up before him in a classic sign of surrender. “All I meant was that the boss man was seriously freaked out when he read that file you gave him, and he wants to help you rescue the triplets. ‘k?”
            Sephiroth grunted. “When it comes to dealing with a Shinra, there is always a price to be paid,” he said cynically.
            “Yeah, and you’re paying it, yo.” Reno shoved his hands in his pockets and ambled a bit closer. “You’re putting him in the President’s Chair, and that’s all he’s ever really wanted. Once he’s there, he’ll make good on his promises. You can bank on that.”
            Genesis harrumphed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “If he fucks this up, I’ll kill him myself,” he declared with a defiant toss of his fiery head.
            “If he fucks this up, you’ll have to wait in line,” Cloud stated with chilling sincerity.
            The other man’s aristocratic features showed surprise, then morphed into that sickening sympathy. “Hojo’s a real bastard, isn’t he?”
            Cloud made rough sound and looked away, fighting fractured, pain-filled memories of his time in Shinra Mansion. He belatedly remembered the picture Reno had given him and was grateful the distraction it was about to cause. If nothing else, maybe it would drag Genesis’ attention back to Sephiroth, where it belonged.
            “I’ve got something for you,” he announced, lifting his head and meeting Sephiroth’s gaze. The silver warrior raised his eyebrows questioningly, and Cloud pulled the picture out of his back pocket and gave it to him in silence.
            Sephiroth unfolded the paper and let out a quiet gasp. He sat abruptly, his legs no longer able to support him, as shocked robbed him of the ability to more than breathe. His eyes never left the computer-generated picture as he realized precisely what kind of priceless treasure Cloud had just given him. The picture, which was at least thirty-four years old, had obviously been copied on an inferior printer. Lines dissected the images of those he both loved and hated, as well as those whose acquaintances he had never made, while faded colors ran through the picture itself, making it impossible to judge the quality of the original.
            But what mattered most is that they were all there. Professor Gast, who had been the closest thing he’d had to a father before his love for The Ancient—Ilfana—had driven him to flee with her into the icy wilds of the Northern Continent. Professor Hojo, who had sadistically tortured him as a child in the name of scientific research, and still did his very best to do so now that he was an adult. And then there was the very pregnant woman at Gast’s side, her long, slender hands resting on her distended abdomen, her heart-shaped face wearing a smile that was both triumphant and sad. Her exotically tilted eyes full echoed the same mix of contradictory emotions, while long, flowing hair arched high above her forehead and around her body in an all too familiar fashion.
            He barely registered Genesis’ presence as he sat beside him, hardly felt the hand that brushed his hair back from his face in an infinitely tender gesture. He couldn’t turn away from the photograph, from the past he would never escape, or the mother he would never have the opportunity to know.
            A strong arm slid across his back, a gentle hand cupping his shoulder, as the other man shifted closer. “Seph, who are they?”
            The soft-spoken question wormed its way through the layers of his consciousness, and he found himself leaning into the comforting embrace as he answered, “Professor Gast and. . .my. . .mother.”
            There was a moment of stillness, and then Genesis was leaning forward, only fractionally loosening his hold, to peer at the photograph. “Oh, my,” he breathed with surprised wonder, “Sephiroth, she’s absolutely lovely.”
            “Yes, she was,” he said in low, trembling voice.
            Was. Genesis’ gaze shot to his face, which revealed a grief that he wouldn’t have allowed to show a mere three months ago, and he wrapped both arms around him in an attempt to comfort him. Sephiroth’s hand came up to grim his arm, and Genesis squeezed him as tightly as he could without causing him discomfort. He didn’t speak, merely held the younger man, who continued to gaze at the photograph with bleak green eyes.
            He rubbed Sephiroth’s bare shoulder with thumb even as he twisted just enough to meet Cloud’s gaze. “Where did you get this?” he asked, an edge to his voice that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than anger.
            Bright blue eyes, which had been fastened on Sephiroth with an unsettling combination of pity and apprehension, met his evenly. “Rufus found it last night,” he answered in a toneless voice. “I don’t know where.”
            “He found it in his father’s study, yo.” Reno rounded the coffee table and sat on it, his own gaze trained on Sephiroth, as his voice gentled. “It’s not just your mother, yo. Your father’s in there, too.”
            Sephiroth’s eyes left the photograph for the first time, widening slightly as they met his, before returning to the picture. He looked past his mother and surrogate father and spotted Vincent Valentine almost immediately. He gazed at the man who had fathered him with unconcealed interest, never before having been given a chance to simply sit back and study him. He looked different than Sephiroth remembered from the numerous battles between AVALANCHE and his clones. His hair was shorter, and he was wearing the Turks’ trademark black suit. He also looked quite a bit younger, although he had hardly aged at all, as far as Sephiroth could see. No, the difference was in the tense set of his thin shoulders, as well as the stricken expression on his narrow yet handsome features, features that were usually lacking any sort of expression at all.
            “He was still grieving,” he murmured, half to himself.
            Genesis ran a consoling hand over hair, tearing his gaze from Sephiroth’s undeniably handsome Turk father, to his even more beautiful son. “Grieving?” he questioned in an encouraging tone.
            “My mother had gone back to her husband,” Sephiroth elucidated in a slightly stronger voice. “My father. . .I don’t believe he properly recovered from the loss before his death.”
            His father was dead, too?! “Shit,” Genesis swore richly. “What the fuck happened to them, Seph?”
            Pale emerald eyes narrowed as they finally met his own. “Hojo,” he hissed, and there was no mistaking his rage as he looked back at the photograph. “Hojo killed them both, and laughed while he did it.”
            Genesis couldn’t contain his flinch as he pressed even closer, lifting a hand to stroke his hair, his lips finding one bare shoulder in a soothing caress. “Are you sure?” he asked in a murmur. “Maybe, you’re wrong, Seph. It’s not like you were there, after all. There might be another explanation for their deaths.”
            “I am not wrong.” Sephiroth drew a deep breath even as he drew his composure around him like a cloak. He straightened, pulling away from the other man, as he added, “Hojo was my mother’s husband,” in a cold voice.
            “Sephiroth. . .” Genesis let his voice trial off as the other man stood and strode out of the room. He gazed at the closed bedroom door before slumping back on the sofa. “Fucking hell!”
            Reno cast him a dark look as he rose to his feet. “Yeah, nice going there, Rhapsodos. Could you have possibly made the situation any worse?”
            “Fuck you!” Genesis surged to his feet, his azure eyes flashing, as he strode determinedly after his lover. “Get the hell out of here, street-rat, before I do something we’ll be both regret!”
            “Fucking asshole!” Reno yelled after him, glaring as the bedroom door was slammed loudly behind him. “Self-righteous, sanctimonious prick!”
            “Give it a rest, Reno.” Cloud stared after them both for a long moment before sighing heavily and turning towards the front door. “Come on. We’d better give them some time alone. I have a test next hour, anyway.”
            “Test.” Reno shook his shaggy red head as he reluctantly followed. “You’re a grown friggin’ man, Strife. Test, my ass.”
            Cloud smiled just a bit at that as he opened the door. “Yeah, it’s not exactly my idea of fun, but the SOLDIER prelims are coming up soon, and I need to study the things I don’t remember if I want to pass.”
            “Still determined to make 1^st Class, huh?” Reno shrugged as he pulled the door closed behind them. “Whatever floats your boat, buddy. It’s not like you don’t have a shitload of hands-on experience, yo.”
            “True,” Cloud acknowledged softly, “but I still want to pass.”
            The not-so-young Turk rolled his blue-green eyes as they approached the elevator. “Have fun in class, yo. I need to see Rufus and see if he’s found anything more.”
            Cloud nodded as the doors slid open. He slipped inside, using his hand to hold them open as he asked, “You’ll call me if you find anything?”
            “’Course.” Reno grinned, looking more like himself than he had since Sephiroth’s mini-meltdown began. “Wouldn’t want to stand in the way of true love, yo.”
            A snort escaped Cloud as he stepped back and released the doors. “Sephiroth was right!” he yelled as they began to close. “You’re an idiot—yo!”
            Reno clutched at his chest as though mortally wounded, and Cloud chuckled as the doors finally slid closed. As he settled back against the railing, he pushed aside any feelings of guilt. Despite the trauma that seeing his parents had obviously caused, Sephiroth deserved to have that much of Vincent and Lucrecia, a small piece of the past that could never be reclaimed, but was important to him nonetheless. And, he would be meeting Vincent soon enough, if all went according to plan.
            The elevator stopped and he hurried to his next class, bound and determined that—this time—he wouldn’t fail. He would pass the SOLDIER preliminaries, and he would be promoted to 1^st Class, no matter what. It was only a matter of time.
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            Genesis slammed the bedroom door behind him, trying desperately to hang on to his volatile temper, as Reno’s words rang through his head. Could you have possibly made the situation any worse? He cringed to himself as he saw Sephiroth sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands threaded through the hair at his temples, his silver-green eyes blank as he gazed at the photograph that rested on his knees. No, he thought with self-reproach, he pretty sure that he couldn’t have fucked things up any worse than he already had. The question was, did he have any chance in hell of making it better?
            He approached the other man with slow, hesitant steps, taking a tentative seat beside his emotionally exhausted lover. He lifted a hand, intending to offer comfort, but the sudden tensing of Sephiroth’s shoulders clearly communicated his desire to be left untouched, and he let his hand drop to the mattress. “I’m sorry,” he whispered finally, hating the feeling of helplessness that swept over him. “I didn’t know, Seph.”
            There was no response from the man beside him, and Genesis could only gaze at him sadly. There was really nothing he could say that would make things better, he realized. Sephiroth had lost both of his parents before he had ever had a chance to know them, and he had been raised by their killer with his employer’s full knowledge and consent. No wonder Sephiroth was so keen to leave Shinra.
            He turned until his shoulder was level with the other man’s and simply sat there. He kept his mouth tightly shut, not quite touching the other man, as he offered comfort in the only way what that Sephiroth would allow. He could only hope that his presence would soothe the other man, and remind him that he wasn’t alone, as he so often felt that he was. He had friends—family, even—and they would always be here for him, whether he wanted them to be or not.
            Finally, Sephiroth stirred, dropping his hands with a quiet, defeated sigh. He still didn’t speak, nor did he look in Genesis’ direction, but some of the tension finally began to leave his lean body. Genesis watched him through a thick tumble of fiery hair, hooded eyes following those elegant, long-fingered hands as they picked up the photograph once more. They lingered for a moment, his left hand moving to trace the photograph of his mother, before Sephiroth very carefully set the copied picture on the nightstand, leaving it propped up against the lamp.
            Sephiroth continued to gaze at it even as he resumed his former position. Genesis waited breathlessly for him to speak, to acknowledge him in any way, and was shocked by the hurt that swept through him when he didn’t. He had to get out of there, he thought as his chest tightened painfully. He couldn’t take the damned silence any more. If—when—Sephiroth decided that he needed him, he knew where to find him. Until then, he had his own hurt feelings to nurse, selfish bastard that he undoubtedly was.
            He pushed himself to his feet and padded towards the door, only to be stopped by a harshly whispered, “Don’t go.”
            He swallowed hard and turned around, only to find Sephiroth watching him with a stark expression. He approached him slowly, resuming his seat as he fought the urge to reach out and touch the wounded warrior. Sephiroth surprised him by sliding his hand across the comforter until his hand found Genesis’. Pale fingers curled convulsively around his own even as Sephiroth lowered his gaze and took refuge behind his beautiful silver hair.
            “I. . .don’t want to be alone.”
            The whispered confession sliced through Genesis as he turned his hand and threaded their fingers together. He did nothing more, allowing Sephiroth to draw whatever comfort he could from his presence. Sephiroth leaned towards him after a few moments, laying his forehead on Genesis’ shoulder in an unmistakable plea to be held. Genesis responded immediately, freeing his hand and wrapping both arms around his lover’s trembling body. Sephiroth turned his face into his neck, drew an audibly ragged breath, and clung to him tightly.
            Genesis ran his hands over the other man’s shoulders, rocking him gently as he set about calming him. He didn’t allow himself to voice any of the questions that were running through his head. There would be time enough for that later. For now, he contented himself with making the soothing little noises that he knew Sephiroth liked, pressing his lips to his moonspun hair, and smoothing his palms over the bare skin of his back.
            He hated seeing Sephiroth like this, he thought as he ran his hands through a river of silver satin. Trembling and vulnerable, so unlike the strong warrior that Genesis knew him to be. For him personally, this was the last straw. If he was ever presented with an opportunity to kill Professor Hojo, he’d take it and fuck the consequences. Sephiroth hadn’t deserved any of this, and he shouldn’t have to suffer because Shinra and Professor Hojo were self-serving pricks.
            “I’m sorry.”
            The whispered words tore through Genesis painfully. “Don’t be,” he said in a fiercely gentle voice. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Sephiroth.”
            Sephiroth shuddered against him, those corded arms tightening around his waist to just this side of pain. “I hurt you,” he said raggedly.
            “Ppfftt.” Genesis dismissed his words as he nuzzled Sephiroth’s hair with his cheek. “I’m a big boy, Seph. I’ll live. How about you?”
            The other man stilled against him, and then slowly raised his head. “You are not… angry with me?” he asked hesitantly.
            “Of course not.” Genesis traced the high arch of his bangs, thinking of the woman in the photograph, before tucking them back behind his lover’s ears. “You had quite a shock. I think your reaction was perfectly understandable. Don’t you?”
            Sephiroth blinked, the dark gold of his lashes sweeping down to cover the emerald glow of his eyes for just a moment. He gazed at Genesis almost shyly, and Genesis was forcibly reminded of their first real kiss. Sephiroth had looked at him in exactly the same way, his silver-green eyes full of uncertainty and hope, an odd combination for the most powerful man on The Planet.
            Or so he’d thought, then. He knew better, now. Sephiroth might be unmatched as a swordsman, but he would probably always be a novice when it came to human interaction. And he couldn’t help the way he reacted to stress. He had been taught to hide his emotions, to withdraw from them when they became too intense for him to handle. He had made great strides in the ten years they’d known one another, but a lifetime of being forced to bury his feelings to survive had taken their toll. Today was a perfect example of that, and Genesis wasn’t going to let him castigate himself for it.
            He cupped that perfect, angelic face in hands and pressed his lips to the other man’s. Sephiroth’s response was slow in coming, his own lips returning the simple caress all too tentatively. Genesis kept the kiss chaste, wanting nothing more than to comfort the man he loved in his grief. It was Sephiroth who gradually deepened the kiss, Sephiroth whose hands began to clutch at his body as he urged him back on the bed.
            Genesis didn’t protest as his own blood began to burn. He twined his hands through Sephiroth’s hair as the other man covered his body with his own, hating the desperation that he tasted on the other man’s lips. Sephiroth didn’t speak as his hands moved to the waistband of Genesis’ sleep pants, and Genesis didn’t expect him to. He merely lifted his hips and let the silky material be drawn down his legs. Sephiroth settled between his legs, lust bleeding in to battle with the bleakness in his pale emerald eyes, and Genesis moaned in what he hoped was an encouraging way as one long-fingered hand stroked its way to the heart of him.
            Sephiroth’s gaze remained watchful, alert for the smallest hint of discomfort, as he traced the puckered skin that all but begged for his touch. Genesis began to wiggle against him, unable to control himself, as his body tightened with anticipation. It was hell not being able to speak, but as Sephiroth stilled his hips with his free hand and pushed against him, he couldn’t contain a breathless gasp. The finger that entered him was dry, but the discomfort was only temporary. Sephiroth bowed his back, pushing his cock against his own, and the pain vanished in a tidal wave of need.
            Two fingers, three, and then he was being stretched, prepared the sensual invasion to come. Gentle fingertips brushed his prostate, and he lost control of himself as pleasure overtook him. He began to thrust against the invading fingers, arching his back, his hands fisting in the coverlet on either side of him. He could hear the high, gasping cries that escaped him, but was beyond controlling them as his body began to sing.
            Sephiroth let out a groan of his own as he watched Genesis lose himself to pleasure. He loved the way the smaller man’s lithe, muscled body twisted so sinuously as he moved, as he abandoned himself completely to his own sensual nature. It was something it had taken Sephiroth years to learn how to do, and he still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the process. As Genesis cried his name and begged to filled, to be fucked, he could only shudder and move to comply, awed by the trust Genesis showed as he gave himself over to him.
            He withdrew his fingers and touched their joined erections, gasping at the sharp jerk of Genesis’ slim hips, which only increased the sweet sexual friction. He stroked them together with hands that trembled, coating them both with a thick layer of precome. He shifted, pulling back just enough to line himself up, and pushed himself home. He was enveloped in searing heat, burning alive as Genesis’ legs came up to hug his sides. He slid an arm under the slender hips that thrust against his, changing the angle of his thrusts until he was hitting the prostrate with every move that he made.
            Genesis went wild beneath him, throwing his fiery head back as his body arched off of the bed. His pale blue eyes were glowing with a fierce, radiant light, echoing the urgent cries that rang through the room. His elegant hands began to pull at the comforter as he scrambled to find purchase, something to hold on to, something that would anchor him as ecstasy shaped his world, and Sephiroth responded.
            He pulled those long legs around his waist and surged forward, blanketing Genesis’ beautiful body with his own. He reached out and grasped both of his lover’s hands, meshing their fingers as he brought those hands up on either side of Genesis’ head. He shook his own head until his hair fell around them in a soft, scattered silver veil, knowing how much pleasure the other man would draw from it. As Genesis whimpered and gripped his hands with increasing pressure, he lowered his head and slanted his mouth across his.
            Genesis’ breath caught as Sephiroth’s tongue found his own. His own moved aggressively, twining with his lover’s, mimicking the movements of Sephiroth’s own body. Sephiroth’s answering groan was muffled, but no less intense for it, his body responding to the suggestive caress with renewed vigor. Genesis had asked to be fucked, and by Gods, Sephiroth was doing it.
            The thought flitted through Genesis’ pleasure-soaked mind, only to be lost as Sephiroth released his hands. He made a protesting sound at the loss, only to be rewarded with the feeling of Sephiroth’s hands thrusting into his hair. Sephiroth cradled his head as he angled his own, deepening the almost violent kiss, and Genesis was lost. His last conscious act was to plunge his hands into the wild fall of Sephiroth’s silken hair, and the world ended in a blistering haze of silver and green.
            He didn’t know how long he was out, but as he came back to himself, he was surprised to find himself on his stomach, his rapidly cooling body already cleaned. Sephiroth’s lean form stretched out behind him, and he could feel the other man’s hand as it stroked his left shoulder with reverent tenderness. He smiled to himself as he felt Sephiroth’s lips brush the same spot, then return for a longer, more lingering caress.
            “Aishiteru,” he breathed, his deep voice so full love that Genesis knew he would never again doubt him. “Don’t ever leave me, kitten. I would not survive it.”
            Sephiroth laid his head on his shoulder, and Genesis swallowed against the sudden constriction of his throat. “Seph?” he questioned in a wobbly voice.
            He felt Sephiroth rub his cheek against his shoulder. “Yes, kitten?”
            “I love you, too.”
            Sephiroth relaxed against him then, his lean body fitting itself to his, a strong arm coming around to hug him close, and Genesis sighed in both relief and pleasure. “My moonbeam,” he said in a murmur, his eyes drifting closed as peace permeated him.

            Sephiroth closed his own eyes and tightened his hold. “Always, Genesis.”
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Final Fantasy VII: Angelic Threnody