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Legacy of the Lifestream	By : butabara Category: Final Fantasy VII > General Views: 2387 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not Own FFVII or its affiliates. I make no money from this execise in literary creativity.

Chapter List
- 29
- 30
- 31
Okay, Mellon! The chapter you've been waiting for! I hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! *Snicker* The first part is family friendly, but the lemon will start in soon, so all those who do not wish to read it should skip this chapter. It won't make it so your confused in the future, promise! R&R!
Chapter 29: The Revolver
Vincent wandered the halls of the airship, slowly making his way back to the room he shared with his lover. As he walked, he found himself lost in thought, thinking of the information that they had gotten from Fayne on their way back to the airship.
Not only was the man a Mako addict and runner, he was also a member of Gaia's Retaliation.
He had found that our after taking a detour into a small village just outside the town. He was nearly out of ammo, and he knew that most likely, he'd need it on the journey back. He'd stopped in at a small weapons shop and purchased not onlny bullets for his Cerberus, but also a new revolver that had caught his eye. A shining gold piece that the shop owner had called 'Celedone'.
He sighed. He was exhausted. Not so much physically, but emotionally, as he knew what effect this new information would have on his fellow sniper.
With a heavy sigh, he made his way from the interrogation cells in the bowels of the airship, back to his room. He couldn't wait to see Sytherea. He'd been told that she had hardly left the room while he'd been gone, and it gave him a feeling of warmth. 'Someone who cares.' He thought. 'Something to come home to.'
When he finally reached his room, he paused. From inside, he could hear the sound of metal sliding on metal, and smell the bitter scent of polishing oil. Was Sytherea cleaning her knives? Or his guns? Curiosity won over and he slowly and silently pushed the door open, stopping in shock at what he saw on the other side.
Sytherea sat at the large desk in the corner, methodically stripping and cleaning his Hydra. The sniper rifle lay in pieces on the table, half of them gleaming in the soft light in the room, the other half having not been cleaned yet.
This was certainly different. Up until that point, he was the only one to clean and polish his firearms. It wasn't that he didn't trust her, it was just something he always did himself. He never asked for her help, and she never offered. He wasn't worried about his precious rifle, though. He was aware that she more than knew what she was doing.
He stepped into the room, silently closing the door behind him and activating the electronic lock. Leaning back against the door, he continued watching her, quietly. Her silky legs were shimmering in the dull, yellow glow of the lamp on the desk, maddening curves peeking at him from underneath the incredibly short silky shorts she was wearing. The muscles in her arms flexed and released as she lifted and turned the pieces in her hands, delicate and deadly fingers gently polishing away any dirt that had found its way onto the part. Her burgundy hair was loose, flowing down her back and falling over one shoulder, head bend and focused on the task at hand.
As she finished the last piece, she sat back, stretching her arms and twisting her neck to relax muscles that were obviously sore. She must have cleaned every weapon in his arsenal. Looking to the wall beside the desk, he saw that he was correct. His Griffon and Ultima lay against the wall, shining beautifully.
Again, the sound of her working caught his attention. He watched in awe, his body responding in ways he'd never imagined possible, as he watched her slide and slam his rifle back together perfectly in less that thirty seconds, the sound of sliding metal and clicking parts drowned out by the rapid pounding of his pulse.
As she reverently lay his weapon against the wall, he slowly crept to stand behind her. His blood was pumping chaotically, centering at his groin and making him bite off a groan that would alert her to his presence. Leaning down to her ear, he let his dark whisper rustle across her neck.
"If you wanted to play with my gun... all you had to do was ask." He teased, fighting to keep from throwing her across the desk and ravaging her body.
Sytherea gasped and went rigid for a split second. "V! You're back!" She turned her bright blue eyes to his. He smirked and nodded, and then motioned to the guns lined along the wall.
"What's this?" He asked in a husky murmur.
"Oh... I... I hope you aren't angry. I just... I missed you and I wanted to keep myself busy. Plus... You do a lot for everyone. You're always the one they send in on missions like this... I wanted to do something nice for you. If I've upset you... I'm sorry." She looked away.
Vincent hooked a claw-covered finger under her chin, Sytherea not even flinching at the wicked metal's sharp menace. She knew Vincent would never hurt her, no matter how angry he became.
"I'm not angry." He purred. "In fact... I believe that is one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. Those delicate fingers of yours, curled around such a powerful weapon." He pulled his hand from her jaw, wrapping his arms around her waist and dragging her to him. Burying his face in her neck and smirking at the rapid pace of her pulse, he spoke again. "'Tell me, my sweet... do you remember our first time together? When I admitted that I was twisted...?"
"Y-yes..." Sytherea said in a breathy voice. She had been with Vincent many times in their relationship... but this time was different. Even though their first time together was feral, almost animal... this was so much darker. It made her body shiver; the promise that reeked in the dark aura surrounding him.
Without another word, Vincent hefted her over his shoulder, walking the three quick steps to the bed and all but tossing her on her back atop the black comforter. "If you want something dangerous to play with... I have a few suggestions." He said.
Sytherea felt as though her very breath had been sucked out of her. "What did you have in mind?" She asked, forcing herself to remain calm and ignoring the sharp bite of arousal and anticipation.
Vincent grinned, canines elongated from the force of Galian's power as his arousal grew to a level that he'd never experienced. Who knew the thought of Sytherea fondling his firearms would effect him in such a way?
He pulled his cloak aside, revealing his newest weapon. One he affectionately named Celedone. It was a long, golden revolver.
"How about this one? Celedone is dangerous, indeed." He leaned forward, touching the cold point of the barrel to her collarbone and dragging it down her body, between her breasts, coming to a stop at the line of her silken shorts.
"V-Vincent! That's not still loaded, is it?" Sytherea gasped, muscles quivering in a strange mix of fear and lust.
Vincent smirked, lifting the gun and spinning the cylinder by his ear. He knew the revolver wasn't loaded, he'd only just bought it earlier that day, but Sytherea didn't know that.
"Maybe." He shrugged. He stared her down with eyes that commanded complete stillness from the woman on the bed. When he was sure she wouldn't move, he lay the gun across her abdomen, hooking his now-free fingers in her shorts and panties, and slipping them off all at once. Lifting the gun again in his right hand, he allowed the claws of his gauntlet to travel up her body to the neckline of her shirt.
"I hope this isn't one of your favorites." Was all the warning he gave her as the lethal golden claws arched downward, slicing through the silk of her shirt and leaving it split down the middle. Sytherea sucked in a break and arched her back when the cold metal of those claws tickled across her skin.
Her body shuddered when Vincent lifted the gun to her, running the barrel across her jaw.
"Open up." He prodded, caressing her lips with cold metal.
Sytherea whimpered, a horribly pitiful sound that went straight to Vincent's groin. He thought about stopping at that sound, as his love sounded afraid, but then his eyes caught the tell tale trickle of wetness that left her body at his words.
She was enjoying herself, too, even if she was nervous about it. The knowledge that she trusted him enough to allow him to stick the barrel of a possibly loaded gun into her mouth made him even hotter, and he moaned when her lips parted to let the metal slide between them.
Her eyes closed as they began to tear. This was a terrifying, utterly sexy experience. She knew Vincent would never harm her, but still... her Warriors instincts were fighting back, not at all comfortable with having a gun shoved half-way down her throat.
At his groan, she whimpered again, letting her tongue slip out of her mouth to swirl around the barrel. Her hands fisted in the black bedspread, legs locking around Vincent's leather-clad waist.
"Yes, my sweet. Make sure you get it nice and wet." He crooned, making Sytherea moan. She loved it when Vincent would talk like this, because he did it so rarely.
Vincent watched the barrel of his revolver disappear into Sytherea's mouth. The amount of trust she had in him was astonishing. But he had to admit, if the situations were reversed, he would allow Sytherea to do it to him. He would probably react in the same way she was reacting at that moment. He stopped moving the gun in her mouth.
"Don't move." He commanded. "Hold it there."
Sytherea let out a muffled sound of understanding, tightening her lips and tongue around the metal in her mouth as Vincent removed his hand. He moaned in frustration as he tore his clothes and claw from his body, hissing as the cool air in the room ghosted across his erection.
Taking his gun in hand once more, he began moving it in and out of Sytherea's mouth, not able to get enough of the erotic sight. His left hand, now free of the sharp metal, cupped her heat, fingers sliding through the wetness flowing from her body and sinking inside of her, his thumb rubbing at the little bud above her opening.
Sytherea cried out and jerked, arching her hips toward him and writhing as her body finally got a small piece of relief from the burning in her veins.
"Gods, you're so wet..." Vincent hissed. "You really are enjoying yourself..."
Sytherea nodded frantically, and Vincent pulled the revolver from her mouth.
"Good." He continued. "You'll need it." With that, his left hand left her, coming up to cup her jaw and throat with such a gentle grip that Sytherea could have cried. His right hand brought the revolver down, tracing her opening and smirking in sadistic pleasure when Sytherea whimpered upon realizing his intent.
Yes, he would definitely have to clean this gun before he could use it...
With a careful shove, mindful of the metal sight on the end of the barrel, he slid the body-warmed metal inside of her.
"Oh!" Sytherea choked out, her head thrown back. Vincent fell to her, attaching his lips to her exposed throat and sucking, hard. His right arm thrust back and forth, moving the gun inside of her at a careful pace.
"V!" She cried when he bit down on her flesh, his elongated canines scraping across her skin.
"Yes?" He purred. "Is there something you want?"
She sobbed against his shoulder, her orgasm so close that it was painful. She never would have imagined that this scenario would be appealing to her... but now that she was in the middle of it, it was likely the hottest thing she had ever experienced.
"I'm so close, Vince... I want to-"
"Oh," Vincent said with a playful lilt. "You want to come, then. I see. Then do it. Come for me, my love." He murmured, his lips brushing her ear with every word.
"N-no!" She whimpered, fighting the wave of pleasure that washed over her as the sight on the revolver rubbed against her sweet spot, Vincent speeding his movements. "I want... I want to come with you inside me! Please!"
Vincent let out a harsh snarl, pulling the gun from her body in one fluid movement and placing himself there instead. With a hard shove, he was buried inside her, as deep as he could go, and her body was writhing around him, the sudden penetration of something much bigger than a gun barrel forcing her climax to overcome her.
"Vin-...cent!" She struggled to cry, her chest heaving. She cried out again when he snapped his hips forward, the head of his erection slamming against her already-abused sweet spot.
Vincent's ragged breath washed over her face as he panted, sweat trickling from his hairline as he thrust inside of her again and again, frantic to join her in euphoria.
His control snapped when she locked her arms around him, pulling him down to whisper in his ear; an out-of-character plea that was the sexiest thing she'd ever said. Sytherea did not often participate in erotic banter... even when he did.
"Come for me, Vincent. You wanted to show me your gun. Show it to me!" She breathed darkly.
"Oh Gods, woman! You're going to kill me!" He grit out, the heat in his belly exploding and sending sparks across his eyes as his vision darkened for a split second. His hips jerked roughly, still slamming against that rough patch inside of his lover and sending her to follow him through oblivion once again.
Their nearly-painful, keening cries echoed through the room, replaced by labored breathing and soft whimpers when he collapsed on top of her.
After long minutes, Sytherea rose from Vincent's embrace.
"Was it loaded?" She asked.
Vincent smiled. "No. I only just bought it. Though now, I'll need to clean it."
Sytherea smirked. "Or... I could clean it. You just sit here and watch."
- 29
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- 31
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Legacy of the Lifestream