Adult-FanFiction.org : Final Fantasy

AESTHETICS	By : GodOfInsanity Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male > Sephiroth/Vincent Views: 1715 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Square Enix's Final Fantasy 7 or any of its characters. I also do not profit from this. This is written purely for practice and for fun.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
AESTHETICS
Chapter warning(s): Bad language, Humor, Angst, Rough Sex, Anal, M/M Yaoi, BDSM, OC

[:+ + + + +:]

CH05: The Taking

Vincent was dumb folded. And Distracted. Very, very distracted. He could barely think as skilled hands yanked his pants down and away from his body. If he had had any blood left in his brain, he might have wondered just how the sneaky General had managed to tie him up without waking him up. He might have also wondered if this was really happening or if this was nothing but an erotic dream brought on by his lonely, depraved mind.
“Whatever is the matter, Valentine?” Smoothly inquired Sephiroth as he slid off from the bed as if this were something they normally partook in every day.
He was out of the Turk’s field of vision for no longer than thirty seconds before he returned. Crawling on the bed towards Vincent like a stalking wild cat; the sensual movement of the silver-haired man portrayed him in a more feline way than he normally appeared. As if distinctly aware of this, he then purred mockingly, “Does the cat have your tongue, hm? Do not worry, darling; we will not require your tongue for what will occur here tonight.”
Darling…? Vincent was about to open his mouth to speak when he noticed with a start that the young General had already straddled his thighs. When had that happened? It would seem that the Turk’s responses were slow and distorted. Was there a reason for it?
Chaos was silent, as usual. Yet somewhere in the confines of the Turk’s being, he thought he heard…laughter?
Already painfully aroused and frustrated, the dark-haired man was at war with not only himself, but with the very being before him. While he grudgingly was enjoying being tied up and molested, there was a smaller part of his barely functioning brain that feared what was about to transpire between them. The Turk was fully aware that the angelic-like man astride him was unpredictable and unstable as it were and there was no telling what would happen.
As if reading the Turk’s hazy mind, Sephiroth opened one of his clenched hands to reveal a black circular object. It was a band of some sort…but what? Vincent noted that it was too big to be a ring for a finger and it was too small to be a necklace or a bracelet.
The green-eyed man half-smirked at the curious look on the older man’s face. It was fairly obvious that he was enjoying the Turk’s torment. His own aroused body shook slightly in anticipation for what he had planned.
“Seph-“ Vincent started to say, but abruptly stopped when he felt the younger man gingerly slip the ring over the head and down his length until it tightly gripped the base of his swollen cock. His crimson orbs widened in sudden realization as he finally figured out what that mysterious little object was.
A cock ring.
It was as if someone had just smacked Vincent hard across the face. Eyes wide and mouth parted, he gawked at the cock ring for several long moments before jerking his head up to look at the younger man. Suddenly Sephiroth no longer resembled a helpless child in the Turk’s eyes. He was a man now; an adult man who wasn’t afraid to take what he wanted. Traumatized or not, Sephiroth was not a simpering woman in need of constant rescue.
Vincent hated to think it, but Lucrecia’s son had more of a backbone than she had had in life. The woman he had loved once had locked herself away in her prison whereas Sephiroth refused to shut down to escape his own torment. He was the kind of person who did not cower even if he was afraid or confused.
The Turk also felt the ugly guilt rear its face at him at these thoughts. He was ashamed, ashamed that like Lucrecia, he himself had given up on Sephiroth and had locked himself away in his own personal prison. Like the Sephiroth’s mother, Vincent had slept away the years while he allowed Sephiroth to suffer at the inhumane hands of Hojo and Shinra all of these years.
These were the kind of thoughts that plagued him relentlessly, day and night. They were part of the reason why he had vowed to redeem himself to not only amend his shame, but to make up for his inaction. He only hoped that it wasn’t too late to save Sephiroth.
“You think too much,” sighed the silver-haired General as he trailed the tips of his naked fingers up the Turk’s smooth, yet incredibly tense thighs. Sliding his body over until he was sitting on Vincent’s groin, he then leaned over until his face was so close that his nose brushed lightly against the Turk’s. In a low husk of a murmur, he commanded, “Stop thinking. Just…feel. I know you want it, Valentine, so stop fighting what you desire, what you crave.”
“This is—“ Started Vincent in protest right before his words turned into a hiss as soon as he felt a tight, slick velvet heat glide down until his straining, neglected erection was sheathed to the base.
Sephiroth had his arms behind him, each one planted firmly on Vincent’s thighs to help balance himself as he sank down onto the Turk. A long, yet relieved sigh escaped past his barely parted lips as his aroused body greedily swallowed every single inch. Once he was fully seated on the other man, he stopped in an effort to give them both enough time and sanity to adjust to the divine sensation of being connected in this euphoric way.
All Vincent could do was grip onto the ropes restraining him and roll his hips upward with each downward motion of Sephiroth’s body. He could feel the rippling power of the General’s strong body as he slowly rose and fell like a wave. Strong, calloused hands gripped the Turk’s thighs as the young General slowly and blissfully rode the man beneath him. The muscles in his toned, sweat-slicked body stood out even more as proof of his physical exertion. Sephiroth’s straining legs bore most of his own weight and rocking movement while his arms were braced behind him on Vincent’s thighs to help keep him effectively anchored as he moved.
The captive Turk felt as if he were slowly going insane from what the other man was doing to him. It was good, so good, but Vincent greedily wanted more of what was being freely given to him. He felt utterly helpless tied to the bed, yet strangely enough, it felt both arousing and liberating. Even so, with every sheathing motion of the General’s taut body, the nearly desperate need to grab onto Sephiroth’s hips and to control the speed and depth of his thrusts grew increasingly. Each clenching, vice-like grip of the younger man’s ass around his cock only served to fuel his rising temptation to break free, to flip Sephiroth over and to fuck him without mercy into the mattress.
And for once, it seemed that Chaos was in complete agreement with Vincent.

[:+ + + + +:]

After what seemed like hours, Vincent’s patience finally snapped. He somehow managed to groan out, “Move faster…”
Sephiroth abruptly ceased riding the Turk in favor of leaning over to tantalizingly trail the tip of his long tongue around one of Vincent’s dusky brown nipples. His tongue then traveled along his collar bone, up his long neck, until finally, he stopped with a final lick to the dark-haired man’s lips. He then smirked in Vincent’s flushed face and purred daringly, “Make me, little Turk…”
“Fucking little tease,” throatily growled Vincent in response. Only, it wasn’t just Vincent. Another voice, a faintly familiar one, was fused with the Turk’s voice. Glowing, golden eyes glared up at Sephiroth in a feral promise of what was to come as the Turk’s body enlarged until he was not only more muscled, but several inches taller than the younger male.
Before Sephiroth could open his mouth to respond, there came the sound of snapping cords echoing throughout the dark room. Quicker than the blink of an eye, Sephiroth was unceremoniously pulled off and shoved hard against the headboard of the bed. The General barely had time to prevent his own face from being smashed upon impact as his arms shot out instinctively to brace himself by grabbing the headboard. In spite of that, the side of his face and his torso still slammed brutally against the metal headboard. Surprisingly, nothing was broken or fractured and the damage was minimal, if not completely superficial.
There was then the press of a hot, muscled body aligning itself against Sephiroth’s back as hot breath rolled heavily against the General’s neck. A dangerously low, yet deep voice then hissed in what sounded almost like a whisper. “Be careful what you wish for, boy.” And then a large, clawed-like hand gripped both of Sephiroth’s hips in a vice-like grip right before Vincent rammed his engorged organ right into Sephiroth’s tight, yet slightly loosened slick orifice in one powerful thrust. He chuckled almost darkly when he heard the younger man gasp in a sweet mixture of pain and pleasure. The crimson-eyed Turk then adjusted his position until he was completely hunched over the General with his chin resting on Sephiroth’s shoulder so that they were pressed cheek-to-cheek.
Sephiroth had no idea where this change in Vincent had come from, but, oh, did he welcome it. Somewhere in his distracted mind, he vaguely recalled witnessing this side of Vincent firsthand once before. And if he recalled correctly, that time had been just as divine as this.
Vincent noticed that the other man seemed distracted by something. Not particularly caring for that, the Turk released a pale hip to reach around and gingerly wrap his claw-like fingers around the General’s neglected cock. Squeezing firmly enough to get a reaction, Vincent smiled faintly from the strangled gasp he had managed to wring out of him. His hand then slipped down lower to tightly grip the base of Sephiroth’s swollen organ. He obviously had every intention of delaying the younger man’s impending release.
The silver-haired man’s hands tightened around the metal bars while he shamelessly enjoyed the onslaught of pain and pleasure wrought upon his strained, writhing body. He could really do nothing except vocally announce his pleasure and hold onto the headboard with a death grip. The pace was so fast and hard that he could barely move his own body and had little choice but to take it. Not to mention that his long, strong legs were spread as far apart as was physically possible while a larger body pinned him against the headboard. His arms were the only resistance keeping his face and chest from being slammed repeatedly into the metal frame. Thank Gaia he was as strong as he was or else he probably would have been smashed by the sheer power of the demonic-like Turk.
The General’s throat began to feel dry and raw from all of the sounds that the Turk had been forcing out of him with every single deep thrust and with each fleeting, yet rough touch to his sweat-slicked body. Every muscle in Sephiroth’s enhanced body screamed in protest at the merciless treatment of Vincent assaulting his body. Even for someone as powerful as Sephiroth, half an hour of non-stop sex was enough to drive him utterly berserk. His skin and every other part of his body soon became overly sensitive to the point that all the touches bordered onto the point of pain. His belly burned so severely that he felt that his own body would explode if he didn’t receive his release soon.
Numb arms shook erratically from the strain and unrelenting force until Sephiroth finally snapped. In a husky, desperate, yet commanding voice, he barked, “Enough! Take your hand off of me and let me come already!”
The Turk paused for a couple of moments to readjust himself just right before he began to once again ram himself hard against the General’s sore and abused prostate. Licking the shell of Sephiroth’s ear, Vincent breathed, “Ask nicely, little General. Beg for me…”
Sephiroth’s pride was discarded easily enough when he felt another nearly painful jab into his clenching, spasming ass and the tightening of the hand gripping his swollen, captive cock. Clenching his teeth, he turned his head as far as he could before he snarled, “Fine, fine! Just let me come! Please…just end this now or so help me Gaia I will summon Masamune!”
Vincent chuckled in both titillated arousal and amusement. He knew Sephiroth well enough to know that this was most likely the closest to begging that the Turk, or anyone else, really, could inspire out of Sephiroth. “Very well…”
The next thing Sephiroth became aware of was that damned hand suddenly slipping away from the base of his manhood. The pressure of that hand immediately vanished and at that same moment, all of his pent up passion sprang free. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, Sephiroth let out a silent scream at the intensely euphoric, yet painful orgasm that ruthlessly shot through every cell of his writhing body like liquid lightning. It was at that exact moment that his arms and legs wobbled and finally gave out.
Fortunately for the postcoital General, Vincent had had the decency and quick reflexes to quickly flip Sephiroth around and over so that he was lying on his back on the bed.
Panting from his delayed, albeit his tremendously gratifying release, Sephiroth gasped breathlessly when he felt the Turk’s hands spread his thighs apart so that he could have better access. He grunted from the feeling of his raw ass being penetrated once more. The younger man had not recovered enough or even had enough time to recover for a second round so he protested by shooting Vincent a dirty glare. His voice cracked somewhat from overuse as he asked flatly, “You are kidding, right?”
Vincent leaned over so that their foreheads were lightly touching before he then whispered, “The cock ring was your idea, Seph. And as you can see…and feel…I’m still wearing it.”
A hungry mouth crushed itself to Sephiroth’s before the feisty General could respond, which was almost immediately followed by the steady, yet deep plunges into Sephiroth’s aching body. It wasn’t long until Sephiroth sighed into the Turk’s mouth as he began rolling and rocking his body against the gunman’s.
It would be a very long, yet genuinely pleasurable night for them both.

[:+ + + + +:]

The dark-haired Turk, lost in his own perplexed thoughts, stared unblinkingly up at the ceiling for what seemed like hours to him. He was lying on his back with his arms lying passively at his sides. A black, sleek sheet, which was a sharp contrast to his pale body, was wrapped loosely around his waist while his bare upper body lay exposed to the cool air.
The pitch black room was as dark as it was silent save for the steady, yet quiet breathing of the slumbering man lying beside the Turk.
Closing his dry eyes momentarily, the gunman tried to think of anything else other than Shinra’s General, but he couldn’t will himself to think of anything else. Every time he tried to focus his mind on something other than Sephiroth, something about the thought in his head would somehow remind him of the frustratingly irresistible man.
Slight movement caused Vincent to turn his head to the right in time to see the sleeping man roll onto his stomach. The Turk’s cold gaze softened somewhat as he took in the angelic, yet very human image of Sephiroth lying on his stomach with his left arm hanging limply off the bed. His face was facing Vincent and half of it was hidden by the pillow that smothered it. The younger man’s lengthy silver hair was also strewn all over the place as a testament that he shifted and moved a lot in his sleep. It did nothing but serve to enhance the lovely picture of his youth and innocence. It seemed as if all of his cares and troubles had melted away into nothingness.
Suddenly bothered by the hair in the General’s relaxed face, Vincent slowly reached over to gingerly sweep the hair away until his young, aesthetic face was revealed to his eyes. He was almost surprised that Sephiroth hadn’t immediately awakened at the movement and slight touch to his visage. It wasn’t a secret to him that most enhanced Soldiers were very light sleepers and tended to react violently once awakened by an intruder.
Sighing quietly, Vincent tore his eyes away from the younger man to stare up at the ceiling once more. He was suddenly aware of just how sticky and grimy his body felt. Prompted by that realization, the Turk attempted to move in an effort to get out of the bed when something solid stopped him.
As if sensing Vincent’s intentions, Sephiroth rolled over so that he was lying half on top of Vincent’s body. His head was nestled in the Turk’s chest while one arm and leg were slung over the gunman’s body in a lax display of possession.
It was…it was indescribable. Even if the raven-haired gunman could find the right words to describe it, he wouldn’t utter a single word in fear that it would break the spell. He had hidden himself away for many years in a coffin; living in this delusion, if it were one, would not hurt him anymore than he already was.
Slowly winding his right arm around the slumbering man, Vincent felt his chest constrict as he gazed down at Sephiroth. What he felt at that moment was something he had never had before in his life. It felt so good, so right, but at the same time it imbibed his being with bittersweet pain since part of him felt loving Lucrecia’s son was wrong. The pain he felt now was beyond anything he had ever known before in his life and it had all started with the younger man. It was a pain and a pleasure so sweet and divine that it barely registered as something similar to what he had once felt for this man’s mother. Yet he couldn’t help feeling that something about it was vastly different from the one-sided love that he had had for Lucrecia. It was one thing to love someone who would never reciprocate your feelings, but to love someone who returned your feelings…was something else entirely.
With all of those thoughts plaguing his mind, he then closed his eyes in an effort to sort through all of these confusing feelings and emotions. It would probably take some time, but it would be awhile before he could even begin to sort through them.
As if knowing Vincent was over thinking things again, the slumbering man sighed deeply as he shifted slightly in his sleep. This action caused the Turk to snap his eyes open to look down at the sleeping Soldier.
As Vincent gazed down at the silver-haired being, he was suddenly struck by the thought of how intimate this moment really was. Somehow sleeping with Sephiroth in his arms was far more intimate than the actual sexual acts.
He was also abruptly aware that they were both lying in Sephiroth’s black bed.
The Turk was mystified by this realization. How had he ended up in Sephiroth’s bed when he had been previously sleeping in the guest room? Had the young man crept into his room during the night to bring him to his own bedroom? Somehow that was unlikely since Vincent felt that he surely would have woken up. Unless…unless he had been drugged by the young General or perhaps had a spell cast upon him by said man. Would Sephiroth really do such a thing? The truth was, he didn’t really know for certain.
It was with these thoughts that Vincent heard the low chuckling of the demon Chaos inside of his head.
Vincent felt himself go numb in the body at the implications of the demon’s amusement. Did that mean…
Deny, deny, deny. Hide, hide, hide. That is all you ever do, Host. It amuses me to no end that you dare call yourself a man…
‘What…did you do?’ Growled Vincent inside of his own mind. It irritated him to no end that when he welcomed Chaos’ input, the demon would remain silent, yet when he didn’t wish to hear him, Chaos would offer his two cents. For him, it felt like he had his own separate conscience that spoke whenever it wanted to speak and sometimes presented him with good advice. On the down side, it was very hard for him to ignore certain things and to deny anything when something literally forced him to acknowledge the very thing he was avoiding.
I did nothing, Host. Perhaps you should ask yourself what it was that you did. You know as well as I that I have no control over you or this weak shell of a body. I have some sway, mayhap, but no true power unless you allow it. Do not ever forget that I am a prisoner trapped against my own will in your pitiful flesh.
‘I do not understand this. I was so…rough and violent with Sephiroth. That is not like me. I am not that way, demon. I find it hard to believe that you had no hand in this at all…’
Heh heh heh. I never said I didn’t have a hand in it, host. I told you that I cannot control you or even force you to do anything against your will. I can…tempt your will power, but nothing more. Everything that you did mere hours ago is what you wanted to do, what you desired to do to him. I just happen to share some of your desires, host.
‘I am not that way, I am not like that. I had no intention of harming him. This makes no sense…’
Your denial is getting rather tiresome. If I could escape your pitiful flesh and inhabit my own true body, then I would. I would take him with me and leave you behind to wallow in your vile wretchedness, host. Alas, I cannot. I am stuck here with you so I might as well soothe your pathetic and unnecessary guilt. You did not hurt him, fool. He is fine and he will walk just fine come the morning. Heh, well, that’s not entirely true. He might have a limp, but he’ll still be able to walk. You still don’t get it, do you?
If Vincent could shoot Chaos in the face, then he probably would have done it a long time ago. ‘What am I not comprehending?’
He is the General of the strongest human army on this planet, host. He is the best of the best and not many can rival him. Although his power came from unnatural means, it is still his power. If he did not want you to dominate him, to be rough and brutal with him, then he would not allow it. He may let you smack him around in the bedroom or whatever kink he’s into, but remember, if he doesn’t like it, he may punch you through a wall. He holds your leash, or should I say, our leash, and we have succumbed to him like lambs to the slaughter. Deny it all you want, host, but he is just as much ours as we are his.
Vincent said nothing more to Chaos as he stared up at the ceiling. He didn’t care to admit it, but he found that there was some disturbing truth to the demon’s words.

[:+ + + + +:]

The General, clad in his usual black leather ensemble, strode purposefully into the Shinra labs. His pale face was devoid of any and all emotion as he briskly walked through long corridors until he had reached the medical portion of the lab. It was mostly used for his regular physical check-ups and for his weekly mako injections.
Sephiroth’s regal nose twitched once or twice in displeasure as the sharp and unpleasant smell of disinfectant invaded his sensitive nostrils. It was a foul, unwelcome odor he had grown accustomed to since early childhood. Every time he smelled anything remotely similar to it, horrid, disturbing images of the past would flicker through his brain and he would then feel the distinct urge to flee. He never understood why he had had such a compulsion to run away nor had he understood where the confusing, nightmarish images came from.
Until now. Now he knew what had been done to him and he was far from happy to be here once again.
It was not even the smell of disinfectant that bothered Sephiroth most: it was the bright, harsh whiteness of the laboratories that irked him. Everything was bleached and lifeless except for glass, metallic objects, and the like. In spite of the brightness, the laboratories had a certain gritty darkness that seemed to blot out even that of the fluorescent lights that flickered occasionally.
Seating himself on the check-up table in the examination room, Sephiroth waited with rigid posture for the doctor to arrive for his physical examination. He looked calm and neutral on the outside; however, on the inside he was an anxious wreck that shook with impatience and a small amount of irrational fear.
The dark-haired Turk walked stiffly throughout the labs as his distrusting crimson eyes darted around suspiciously. He knew this place almost as well as Sephiroth did and probably despised it just as much. He wasn’t even aware that he was grinding his teeth and sporadically clenching his fists as he walked down the long corridor.
As tense and agitated as the Turk presently was, he had been doing well enough until he had entered the examination room. Halting suddenly in mid-stride, Vincent stared with wide eyes when he spotted it. Something akin to the feeling of a sharp blade stabbed and twisted in his gut as soon as he recognized the exact spot that he had confronted Hojo. It was also the same place he had been shot by the conniving scientist. In a way, this was where he had died, where he had sinned, and where he had lost everything.
“Are you all right?” Calmly inquired the mature voice of an adult woman. Yet it was not her voice that broke him out of his spell; it was the gentle touch on his shoulder that caused him to turn his head to look down at her.
“…what?” Asked Vincent as he blinked slowly in disorientation. Something about this woman was vaguely familiar, yet he could not fathom why.
“I asked if you were all right? You walked into the room and…well, you zoned out. You almost looked as if you were having a psychotic break. Trust me, I know. I’ve seen it happen before,” explained the woman as she removed her hand from his shoulder. She seemed genuinely concerned as she watched him from behind her red-rimmed glasses.
The Turk nodded once before he focused his attention on the woman to scrutinize her. She was tall, maybe around 5’10”, dark-skinned, and had an average body clothed in a white lab coat. Professional, yet stylish prescription glasses framed her dark, intelligent eyes. Her short, black, and styled hair complimented her slightly round face as much as the orchid black lipstick did her plump lips. The woman was probably in her forties, yet she seemed like one of those rare women that aged gracefully with time. Everything about the middle-aged woman spoke of professionalism and class.
Vincent felt eyes branding into him hotly, which caused him to glance around until he had finally noticed the General. Sephiroth was sitting on the examination table and staring intently at him. One of his elegant silver eyebrows was arched up slightly in silent inquiry. The younger man didn’t say anything, but it was apparent to the Turk by Sephiroth’s body language that he was concerned about Vincent.
“Right,” muttered the doctor to herself before she strode back over to the General. As if this were something she did daily with this particular patient, she began the tedious, yet necessary routine of checking his vitals after he had removed his coat, armor, and gloves.
She touched the young General with such a familiarity that even had Vincent feeling slightly jealous. It faintly reminded him of how he felt whenever he had caught a glimpse of Lucrecia touching Hojo or vice versa. That had been different than this, but it had been jealously nevertheless.
Somehow, as clinical as this was, this woman doctor touching Sephiroth still bothered him. It also didn’t help that there was mistrust brewing steadily in the Turk. The woman seemed nice and genuine enough, but as far as he knew, this doctor could have been one of the several doctors that had played an integral part in forcing Sephiroth to endure all of those inhumane treatments and experiments.
After the doctor had drawn some blood and had finished the routine examination, she looked Sephiroth square in the eye and revealed, “I have a bit of good news for you, Sephiroth. You are much healthier and more physically fit now than you were since the last checkup. You have also gained about five pounds, which tells me you’re steadily gaining back all the weight you lost. That’s good and it shows that your diet and exercise is working.” The doctor then glanced at the vial of blood before switching her eyes back to the General. “I’m going to go run some tests on your blood now. I’ll be back in ooh,” she said as she paused to glance at her watch. “In about roughly a half hour. The tests take about two hours, but thanks to Shinra’s expensive machines, I’m only needed for the first thirty minutes. So just sit tight and if you need anything, just page me.”
Sephiroth nodded curtly, but said nothing as he watched her turn and briskly leave the room. As soon as she had closed the door behind her, Sephiroth turned his wicked gaze to the Turk. “So…”
Vincent blinked. “…”
Sephiroth smirked and then leaned forward, his hair tumbling down over his shoulders to trail over his bare chest. In a low, slightly husky voice, the General then lewdly suggested, “You want to…you know…?”
“Sephiroth, I am not doing anything of that nature with you in here,” rebutted the Turk with a firm shake of his head. In spite of being taken aback by the other man’s outrageous idea, he couldn’t help but feel a certain stirring of heat in his groin.
“Suit yourself,” responded Sephiroth nonchalantly as he leaned back on the table until he was casually leaning back on his elbows. With unfocused eyes, he stared blankly at nothing in particular. It was painfully clear that these habits had been formed years ago under the careful watch of Hojo. Sephiroth’s discipline and patience had not come from Soldier training and from being out in the field; it had come from all of his time spent waiting in the laboratories and being subjected to inhumane treatments.

[:+ + + + +:]

Several long minutes passed until the Turk could no longer bear the maddening silence. Mustering up the courage to ask his next question, Vincent inhaled and exhaled deeply before inquiring quietly, “Sephiroth, did that woman ever—“
“—No,” interjected the General in a cold, stoic tone as he fixed his exotic eyes on the slightly shorter male. He then pushed himself up and leaned forward so that he could whisper, “Be careful what you say in here, Valentine. There are bugs everywhere in these laboratories.”
Vincent’s eyes widened by a fraction of an inch even though a part of him was not surprised. Sephiroth’s statement definitely explained how Hojo seemed to always be one or two steps ahead of everyone else. If the place was indeed bugged, then who was watching and listening? Could the greasy, foul man still have spies around Shinra? In these labs? Or maybe…just maybe Hojo was still watching from somewhere else. No doubt it was somewhere safe and secure enough for him to continue to observe his specimens without risk of detection.
Mildly amused by all of the questions that seemed to flicker subtly all over the Turk’s face and body language, Sephiroth then chose Vincent’s moment of distraction to slide gracefully down from the table. Gingerly picking up a pad of paper, the half-naked General hastily tore off a piece of paper before he quickly jotted a few things down on the paper. Folding the paper in half, he then extended it towards the Turk in silent invitation.
The crimson-eyed Turk swiftly snapped out of his distracted state as soon as he had seen a flurry of movement. Staring for a moment at the arm offering him a piece of paper, Vincent slowly retrieved the paper and unfolded it as if it might contain a bomb. His wine-colored eyes drifted down to read the hurried, yet legible scrawl:
We are being watched. Hojo may be gone, but that does not mean he is not monitoring us. He may have spies here working for him, or some other means we are not aware of, but I do not think that Dr. Zubira is one of them. We should still play it safe, regardless of what I think. I do not trust anyone here except for Angeal, Genesis, and you.
Vincent nodded curtly in understanding as he slipped the paper into one of his pockets. He said nothing more as he patiently waited with Sephiroth for the doctor to return.

[:+ + + + +:]

“Your blood work looks fairly normal, Sephiroth. There are no abnormalities and it appears that your body is nearly recovered,” began the doctor as she glanced occasionally at the clipboard gripped tightly in her right hand. Something about her body language told the General that there was more to it than that. He could definitely tell that there was something else that she was neglecting to tell him.
“Anything else?” Sephiroth asked dryly while he fixed the woman with his own trademark unflinching stare. Because his gaze was often intimating and unforgiving, most people found it difficult to lie to him.
Dr. Zubira sighed as she removed her glasses from her face. She then rubbed the bridge of her nose before putting her eyewear back in its proper place. Focusing her dark gaze back on the General once more, she then reluctantly elaborated, “While you are healthy and nearly in peak condition, your body is producing excess amounts of hormones.”
“Hormones?” Repeated the young General in a deadpan tone of voice that betrayed his skepticism. From what he knew about hormones, they were normal and essential to many organisms. He also knew that moderation was important for survival and anything in excess was never a good thing.
“Yes, hormones. Particularly the hormone estrogen. I hesitated to mention it because…ah, I do not fully understand it, yet,” answered the doctor with puzzlement written all over her weary face.
With an impatient gesture of his ungloved hand, the edgy General bid the woman to continue. “Explain to me what you do understand.”
“You are producing hormones that are typical to pregnant women, Sephiroth. Since you are clearly physically a man, I do not know how that is even possible,” elucidated Dr. Zubira as she slowly set the clipboard down on the counter. She appeared to be deep in thought as she said next, “I will have to run more tests on you to determine the cause of these hormones. A few scans such as an MRI, CT, and ultrasound should suffice.”
“Ultrasound? I am not a woman, Doctor. I do not see how that is necessary,” objected a very displeased General.
The doctor sighed again. “I know that, Sephiroth. Ultrasounds are not exclusively used only for pregnant women. We use ultrasound technology to look for other things; things that shouldn’t be there, but are. We need to make sure that there’s nothing abnormal or harmful inside of you. I cannot force you to agree to any of these tests, but I can highly recommend that you consent to them.”
Sephiroth fought the urge to join her in sighing as he inwardly nursed his own wounded pride. He then waved his hand in a gesture that meant he had reluctantly granted her permission. “Fine, fine. Do whatever you need to do as long as it is absolutely necessary.”
“Thank you, General. I think it is also necessary to prolong your mako injections as well. For the time being, of course,” said the relieved doctor. She had been afraid that he would have fought her on the issue to the point that she would have had to bring the matter to Shinra’s attention. Doctor Zubira disliked the President, especially when he was concerned about the welfare of one of his ‘assets’.
“Yes, yes, yes,” grumbled the brooding General before he glanced at the Turk. He became instantly curious the moment he noticed that Vincent had immediately looked away when their eyes had met. It seemed almost as if the gunman had been caught red-handed. But why? What was the man hiding from him?
Sephiroth intended to find out one way or another.

[:+ + + + +:]

As soon as Sephiroth’s front door had slammed shut, the General had rounded on the Turk faster than the blink of the eye. Slamming Vincent hard against the wall, Sephiroth wedged him against the wall while one of the swordman’s hands had an iron grip on the other man’s crimson collar. His slitted pupils were dilated from the anger rushing through his veins as his heart furiously pounded to accommodate his sudden surge of intense emotion. The General was beyond infuriated at this point due to everyone and everything that had led him all up to this point in time. It also didn’t help that the damned Turk was guarding secrets from him like a wary dog. He believed that these secrets that Vincent hoarded were truths that should be known to Sephiroth, too.
Vincent stared calmly at the angry General, whose twisted face was mere inches away from his own. He was already well equipped for the situation since he had often dealt with angry and homicidal men time and time again. The dark-haired man wisely kept quiet for the time being; however, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t prepared to defend himself against the seething man.
“What are you not telling me? What are you keeping from me?” Snarled Sephiroth with his lips pulled back to reveal his gleaming white teeth as he leaned in closer with his regal nose nearly touching Vincent’s. The hand that was latched onto the Turk’s collar seemed dangerously close to ripping the cloth apart as if it were cheap paper.
The crimson-eyed Turk didn’t seem the least bit fazed by the other man’s toxic demeanor and hostile body language. In his usual low, calm, and monotonous voice, he drawled patiently, “You already know, Sephiroth. I told you once before that I cannot tell you what you wish to know. This is something you must remember on your own. I am sorry, but that is just how it is.”
Panting from the sheer exertion of his trembling anger, the General said nothing as he glared venomously at the tranquil Turk. Something about the Turk’s passive behavior was slowly chipping away at his shell until with a few deep breaths, the anger started to dissipate. His grip on Vincent’s collar lessened somewhat as his body eased up enough to give the Turk an inch of space.
“I am on your side, Sephiroth. Do not fight me on this. If you can let anything go, let this go. For now,” murmured the Turk so quietly that it seemed almost like a gentle whisper. As soon as he had spoken the words, an impulse struck him strongly enough for him to act on it. Something was telling him to touch Sephiroth. Acting on the impulse, Vincent slowly reached up to touch the younger man’s smooth left cheekbone. Expecting to be hit, or at the very least, to have Sephiroth jerk his face away, the Turk was mildly surprised when the General leaned into his touch in a nearly catlike manner.
Sephiroth sighed, “Sometimes I forget that you are not the enemy.”

[:+ + + + +:]

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Motivation and real life issues, you know. But I finally updated and I’m relieved. And yeah, a word or two of feedback is always greatly appreciated. Also, a big thanks to all that reviewed! You guys rock. :D
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