Mako Reactor

I respectfully credit all Original Creators, namely Squaresoft, which became SquareEnix,for these characters. In this way, I pay homage to my Fandom's Original Creator, and illustrate my Community's belief that Fan Fiction is "fair use". I do not claim to own these characters. I do not make money or gil from using these protected characters, nor do I wish to make money or gil from them. In other words, I am borrowing these characters to entertain the adult fanfiction community, but I am doing so with the highest degree of respect to the engineers, game designers, music makers, and voice actors.




An uneventful night faded into an uneventful morning. I stopped passing blood in my urine. Many of my aches began to subside. I felt thankful. Valentine would no doubt figure what I’d done to him, once a few days passed and he realized he hadn’t gotten worse. When that happened, he’d probably beat me to death. I felt I deserved a few, pain-free days before that unlamented event.

Incredibly, we encountered no monsters the entire day.

I caught Valentine looking at my neck several times and knew he’d help himself to a couple of pints at first opportunity. Once we set up camp, I decided to make it easy for him. I gathered up toiletries and clean clothes, embarking toward the nearby stream.

Strife watched me go but said nothing.

I cleaned up first, washing my hair and body with vigor. Then, shirtless, I crouched and began to shave. I detested facial hair. With great relief I applied the razor.

Not halfway into the job, I felt a presence at my back. A long, leather-clad arm reached around and took the razor from me. I watched it slowly drop, watched his wrist and hand flick it in the water. A cold, metal hand pressed my forehead back.

Every slow and steady scrape of the blade across my neck made me weaker. I found this erotic. I knew he meant to scare me, meant to make me think he’d just slice across one good time and be done with me. But, I remembered his words. He hated me so much he cherished me. He wasn’t finished playing with me by a long shot.

I loved it.

His torso nudged my back and I moaned.

Valentine stilled his hand. “You’re getting off on this,” he accused, tone both wondering and disgusted. “Are you so certain I won’t open your artery?”

“Mostly certain,” I confessed. “I think I’d still find it worthwhile.”

“Sick little fuck,” he rumbled, beginning again. “But, I’m tired of you chafing my face when I feed.”

“My apologies, jock,” I mumbled.

“Stay silent or I will open you up, I swear it.”

I zipped it. I knew he meant it this time. Though his hands remained steady, I felt the menace in his aura.

He finished and promptly thrust my head underwater. He kept me under longer than needed, but I remained passive. Soon, he hauled me back out and threw me onto my back. “It horrifies me that the best, most nourishing blood I’ve ever had, is yours,” he confessed lowly, straddling my hips. “But, I think bleeding is the least you can do for me. I hope for your sake you aren’t expecting me to kill you, Hojo, because I intend to keep you around.”

He bent to me.

I closed my eyes, inhaling the clean, rain and gunpowder scent in his hair as it slithered over my naked shoulders.

So intimate. Even he could not deny that. I knew if I could see his eyes I would view a conflict.

“Nothing to say?” he asked against my skin. “Are you finally, blissfully silent?”

His teeth slid into a previous bite, opening me back up with near painless ease. My eyelids fluttered at the ecstasy. Every pull at my veins made my cock throb. I shivered and trembled, feeling heat flare in my groin and become a burn. Groaning, I twined a hand in his glorious, silky hair, feeling it slide between my fingers. God, he was so primal, so base. I only wished he knew his power.

He needed a deep feeding this evening, having lost blood earlier. He would not be able to rush this.

I brought my other hand to his chest, ignoring his warning rumble. My fingers found the holes in his garment. Carefully, my head swimming with pleasure, I felt for his skin. His teeth sank deeper, his mouth a clamp. I touched more openings, more skin, determined to enjoy this even if he cut my gratification short.

He wrestled my hands to the sand and pinned me. Withdrawing, he glared down at me. “How many times do I have to tell you not to touch me?” he asked. “Why do you insist upon it?”

I met his gaze dreamily, only half-comprehending any of his words. He would have to wait until I wasn’t flooded with endorphins before getting anything coherent from me.

His glare became confusion before transforming to cautious curiosity. Slowly, he bent to me again.

I smiled.

He would have enough Jenova from me soon. Soon, he would feel the way I felt him. Even better, he had no idea he sucked on his own ruin. I tasted better than anyone he’d ever had simply because I was made of richer, more powerful things. Mako for my strength and healing, Jenova for my transformation, my kinetic powers. Through my blood I lent him incredible nourishment, new power, new strength, and new skills.

But, he didn’t know that.

Yet.

I gave it a few more minutes.

Sexual excitement surged back through me, flooding him through my blood. I thrilled, hearing him give a startled, astonished groan. My desire had lazy strength now, having the added factor of his calming saliva.

He clutched at his belly, his fingers gripping the leather hard. He fought touching. It didn’t matter which of us he touched, we’d both feel it. But now, the blood tasted even better, did more for him. Now he ached like I did, and, he still could not stop drinking. His demons liked to feed, no matter what he himself preferred.

I used my newly freed hand well, dragging it down his back and feeling his mighty shoulder blades. Down, down I coasted, feeling the echo of my own hand on my own back. He shivered, pressing against me as I clenched his powerful waist. I felt the thrust of his hardening erection against mine, delighting in how he arched like an animal.

Again he pushed, rocking my body and sending sizzling lust up my spine. Feeling that, he gasped, sending a chill breeze over my wet flesh. Unclamping, he poised over me, head thrown back. “Hojo, whatever you’re doing,” he moaned, “stop it.” He bared his fangs, showing me those ivory, bestial teeth.

“I can’t,” I confessed. “I’m not the one doing it. You are.”

“No, I’m not!” He shoved a third time, harder, a noise escaping his throat when he felt the shock the same as I.

“You are.” I sat up, surprising him. He rolled onto his side, breathing hard.

“Look, Turk,” I said, grabbing his hand. “Do you feel me? Or, do you feel me twice over?”

He jerked away from me, scowling. Still, his body tried to curl toward mine. Only because the ache seemed more familiar to me did I resist covering him.

Good way to get a beating.

“Are you through drinking?” I asked, attempting civility. My body started to shake. His trembled too. We would feel each other for a few hours now.

“Yes,” he rasped.

I walked to the creek and unbuttoned my pants, taking myself in hand. On the bank, he hissed and sat up. Slowly, my back to him, I began to stroke.

“Hojo, stop,” he said, his tone almost desperate.

“Do you mind?” I asked. “All men have to do this on occasion. And, since you won’t oblige me, I have to take matters into my own hands.” God, this felt good. Jerking myself off with him an unwilling, yet needy participant. Poetic. Downright beautiful.

“You need to come anyhow, Valentine,” I told him. “If I were you, I’d take my pants down.”

He made another peculiar but lovely sound. I heard him tearing at his laces. I slowed, giving him a chance to catch up with me. My balls felt heavy, so heavy. I imagined emptying them into him, feeling him clutch around me like he had that first night. “Beautiful fucking Turk,” I groaned, feeling the tightening and the imminent release. “You’ll come for me again, won’t you?”

I felt I’d explode, like my heart would just shatter in my chest. I heard every beat of my heart, every rushing pump as I shot off. Behind me, Valentine cried out and then snarled, growling his pleasure.

The sounds he made were nothing but music.

I cleaned up and grabbed my washcloth, wetting it and taking it to him. He laid almost senseless, red eyes tracking me. His cock still stood out as straight as a flagpole. I shook my head just once at the picture he presented. What a gorgeous creature.

“I can’t understand it,” I said, giving him the cloth. “You’re so perfect you don’t even look real.”

“What happened?” he asked, obviously a bit stunned. Slowly, he cleaned himself up a little.

“My best guess?” I asked, feigning innocence. “You’ve had enough Jenova from my blood to acquire some of her abilities; one of them is empathic touch. If I want to I can feel everything someone else does, as long as I’m touching that person. You get two people with that ability to touch and it’s like holding a mirror in front of a mirror.”

“Is it…permanent?” He shuddered.

“I imagine not. You’d need a complete transfusion for something like that, probably.” I looked at my watch. “I’d say it’ll wear off in a few hours.”

Valentine got up. He leaned against a tree for a moment, eyes closed. “Just…don’t touch me.”

“Whatever you want, Turk.”

“Goddamn it,” he swore, opening his eyes and pinning me with them. “I’m not a Turk anymore!”

“Semantics,” I sighed.