Adult-FanFiction.org : Final Fantasy

All of Us Monsters	By : ub3rschnitzel Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 870 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Disclaimer: I don't own SquareEnix or any of their Squaresoft
characters. I don't own Advent Children, or else I would be rich. I
don't own Cloud, Fenrir (his bike), Vincent, or any of Cloud's many many many
swords.
Author's Notes: Tons of spoilers. For those of you who
have seen the movie, you might understand where this could be coming from.
I've recieved lots of good words for this on the Livejournal Community acfiction.
Chapter 3

The warrior tipped his head back. He was understandably solemn, as he was in all
things, with those Mako-infused eyes locked onto my face. Gently guiding him
with me, I sat forward a little more for him. He slid lightly across my thighs
as I sat with my legs splayed. His weight was primarily supported on my legs,
and when he wouldn't completely relax upon them, I pulled his legs apart and
forced him down.

He tilted his head to one side, curious, blushing hard. I fancied I could smell
the blood under his skin at that moment, while I stroked his forehead
lightly with my bare fingertips; his skin was cool and smooth, and his naked
chest heaved slightly against mine. From inside his muscled ribcage, his
heart gave several hard, bone rattling beats. Gradually his hips shifted
gloriously and settled
against my lower stomach, rubbed up and along my flesh in what became a rough,
suggestive motion. His eyes glazed once more; I pressed forward and lovingly
pressed my
mouth against his throat, that throbbing throat where his blood roared through
his veins underneath my tongue. I was running my sharp teeth against his skin, pleased to
prize a moan out of him. My fingertips sought out the small scars all over his
body, along his back and his chest. He was not unmarked wholly, for which I was
glad. His hands, of course, gripped my shoulders with a marked increase of
intensity.

Still, as I devoured each bit of his being, he seemed still too perfect for me
to spoil him. He didn't even protest. I was rapidly ashamed of what I was
doing, regardless that he did not care that I was doing it at all. In fact, he seemed moved by my reckless
affection, shuddering as he breathed my name as his fantasy stole over him a
second time - only this moment was real, my touch was real and he would not have
to beg much to recieve relief. He reached behind him and leaned his hand on the
comforter, the other inching forward over his stomach like a stealthy Midgar
Zolom. I was forced to relinquish his throat for a more comfortable locale - his
collar bone - only semi-aware of the phantom pressure against my stomach and the
heat of his hand there, flirting with the soft cloth covering us.

Spurred by the electricity of his own touch, he thrust downwards, the hard
muscle of his legs connecting with my hips and half-scaring me to death in the
process. But his message was clear. He tilted his head forward. His lips slid
across my brow and he moaned, rubbing, writhing like a possessed eel. Seething
with desire, fighting the urge to put him in his place and quit that infuriating
movement, I resolved the issue in one smooth push. I stripped the cloth
away, exposing his shameless erection and his powerful legs, and all at once my
body went hot and cold - and only very few times had this ever happened to me.
Faint, trace scars ended more or less above his waist except for one on the
inside of his thigh. I attacked that scar at once, covering him, and pushed his
legs apart, licking the scar and around it, quailing at his voice which rose
into a keening moan while his fingers found my hair and tugged hard. I
hardly cared what I was doing, only keeping that sound coming, that movement as
he bucked gently, skin whispeirng on skin.

And finding strength again, the warrior overturned me once more and veritably
tore with greed the clothing that remained on me, for it did not seem fair to
him I suppose that he should be stripped clean and I, still safe and warm in my
clothes. I did not mind in the least. My senses reeled; how long,
then, since I had felt flesh and blood and heat like this?

He quickly overpowered me. He slid his slick, muscular arm around my shoulders,
whispering softly, "It won't hurt, I promise." While I drunkenly pondered what
or who he meant, he slid across my lap again, and a few seconds passed which
confused me, until I felt myself somewhere inside of him. He tensed and I
was frozen in that breathless moment of ecstacy before I rose to meet him,
pushing inside the tight ring of flesh that rubbed every aching, wet, sinful inch
of me.

Then I was completely inside of him. I was horrified and delighted and livid
with terror; his hand raised and stroked my hair, an uneasy smile crossing his
features once. We both knew simultaneously how to continue, what it would mean
if we did. I locked my arms around his waist boy-slender waist, feeling the
weight of my metal claw more than the weight of my flesh-and-blood hand on his
hip, vaguely disgusted by the atrocious limb. I wanted him to move; I wanted him to get up and leave. The
confliction chewed my heart from the inside out.

My unthinking, lustful other mind said to take him, don't think, just do it. It
clawed inside me. I felt a keen pain somewhere in my mind, in my veins and
nerves.

Primarily I just wanted him. I shifted underneath him in thoughtful preparation.
Then his eyes flickered. He bit his lip. "Don't." Suddenly he changed his
mind. I held tightly. No, I thought. He can't fear me now.
I've been gentle, haven't I? He can't fear me. Regardless, the fear
was there. His eyes widened and he at
once became increasingly terrified of me. "Vincent, don't."

"Why not?" I said thickly. I will never for the rest of my life forget the flash
of fear in his eyes, followed by unimaginable outrage. I pulled him closer, and
quickly rolled him over. He pushed, and I crushed him against the mattress while
he fought against me. My monster screamed in delight, Yes, yes, hurt him,
devour him, make him weep that he ever kissed you that night!

I forced into him again and again. He screamed at me in rage now; I caught his
arm as he raised it to strike. I marveled at his strength not with
surprise but in a detached, pleased way, that I knew all along his strength and
his weaknesses. His struggles only provoked my hazardous,
malicious rape of him. I couldn't stop. My breath came in gusts of pleasure and
pain and despair, and I found I could no longer look into his eyes. I sank
lower, and he slowly rose against me, sobbing as his pleasure mounted and gave
him a reason not to fight. Instead he merely stared at me, mouth shut,
teeth clenched as he bit back his moans. I covered
his mouth, responded to his moans with a grateful sigh, and we climbed and
climbed, his body gradually arching to my own as his voice broke free. He threw
his head against the pillows and clawed at my arms, shrieking in a new octave like
a beaten, bruised choir boy.

The monster inside of me screamed with him. I buried my face against his
shoulder and panted through my release in humbled, ambivalent silence.
Such a short time... such a miserably short time...

His eyes were glazed with pain. Then his expression was unreadable, unable to
look at me in the eyes for a few long minutes. When he pushed me away again,
shame forced me to do as I was bidden. I crept away, and found my hands
automatically searching for my clothes. Cloud crawled beneath the blankets and
turned away, his head ducking low on his pillow.

I dressed quietly. He was not moving, save but to gently grip his arm at the
shoulder with his Geostigmatic scars. I felt like I had taken a switch to him
and whipped him like a dog ceaselessly, such was the tormented aura that cloaked
him. I thought I could smell the salt of his tears.

My apology perished as an unspoken wish.

What had I done?

"It was my fault." The warrior twisted his head around to look at me at last. "I
should never have--"

"You can't stay hidden from everyone forever," I interrupted shortly as I fixed
my cloak around my shoulders at last, and found comfort in the confining weight
of it. "But it was my mistake... for following you. I need you, Cloud." I shook
my head, and laughed dryly at our sad dilemma. "Ah, I need you so much it hurts.
What do you want from me?"

"Just what you've been giving me... since the day before yesterday." Cloud sat
up, and dropped his hands across his lap, defeated. "Vincent, do you..."
He struggled for a few seconds, his eyes pinned to the sheets around him,
anywhere but me. "...love me...?"

I thought about my sins. How I knew no amount of repentence could erase the
black slate of my life and the lives I've taken and oh, so many mistakes. Cloud
did not want to let me believe that this was just another to add to the long
list. Could I fix this? What could I say... that I didn't love him, and that I
never did, and I wanted him to turn away and go home to Tifa and have the family
he deserved?

I said nothing. Cloud's eyes welled with tears. I tensed ever so slightly.
"Don't cry... I don't feel love anymore, Cloud."

"Nobody has ever held me like you before. No one had touched me and listened to
me and understood like you, without even having to say anything! Nobody...
nobody follows me with such goddamned stubborn perseverence as you have. If that
isn't love, then I don't know what's going through your head! Don't you
fucking tell me you don't feel love!" The roughened warrior's voice sharpened
into a grating snarl I couldn't bear. I could sense none of the frightened boy
inside of him now, or the resolute and silent man waiting to die. Only anger and
peaking frustration.

Still I was afraid to speak. I looked at him sadly, arms crossed over my chest.
My nerves fired and I could remember those angry, pursed lips on my skin in
passion. It... sickened me. His need for me made the room stuffy. His
desperation frightened me.

"Tell me!" he snarled. He threw the blankets aside, snatched up his sweatpants
and pulled them on. Then he charged toward me, and shoved me against the wall.
"You fucking piece of shit! You mean to tell me now that you've thoroughly
fucked my ass to pieces you don't want to look at me anymore?!"

"No!" I choked, and my own anger blazed. "How could you think I could...? Cloud,
I told you I need you! I can't stop, I can't help it!"

"I love you," the swordsman said firmly. He took my face in his hands, and
leaned close, till we were eye-to-eye, inescapable. "I-love-you. You can't say
it, but I can see it." His lips brushed mine, and he pleaded, the anger draining
away, and some other multifaceted emotion gripped us both in its tight fingers. "Please tell me..."

I was thoroughly cornered. I could feel him breathing, the tremors that wracked
his pained body. He pleaded again and again, insisted that yes, he had forgiven me,
he understood why I had done it, that he had invited me to, and that was his
fault. I had never done
anything wrong. But I could not forgive or believe it myself. Cloud's words had
shocked me into becoming mute at the most inopportune of times. The words were
in my mouth, ready to be gently lifted onto the wind. But they were locked tight
in a vault of impenetrable secrecy to which I no longer had the key.

Cloud had grown silent, and he grasped his arm, gasping harshly. His face went
horridly white, and his eyes quivered and grew large, the pupils small. Before he
slid to the floor I caught his crumbling body and held him up. He cried out and
threw his face against my chest in shame for his agony, or maybe to muffle the
gasping, ragged cries that were like chunks of flesh being ripped from his
lungs.
Hot, black liquid dripped to the floor, spotting the floor near my boot.
- 2
- 3
- 4
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All of Us Monsters