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Sepsis	By : ladysanzennine Category: Final Fantasy VII > Het - Male/Female > Sephiroth/Aerith Views: 2066 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Don't own ff7. Don't make money off it.

Chapter List
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Sepsis
Chapter 09
By Lyralina Sanzennine
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 7 is property of Square Enix.
She fell deeper and deeper into him. They danced together in perfect synchrony. His every response pushed her further into his arms as desire fed desire that spiraled ever downward.
His mouth was soft and hot, sweet under the questing insistence of her tongue. His body was firm and solid beneath her fingertips and that was indescribably good because it meant he was real in a world that seemed to be so insubstantial. She greedily touched every part of him – his hair, his face, his chest and back and legs.
She was shameless and wanton, and through it all, she thought she sensed an undercurrent of surprise in him. As though he was shocked at the turn of events, at her behavior. Or perhaps that was just her own deluded perception.
He kissed her back nonetheless, thoroughly and passionately, carefully exploring every crevice of her mouth. She was so yielding against him and he found himself intoxicated and every bit as wild with abandon as the woman he held in his embrace. She tasted unearthly, yet still the flavor of her on his tongue was every bit that of the earth-child that she was. Like warm sunlight and cooling waters and the teeming greenness that together, they gave birth to. It was that exactly – the crystal perfection of all the elements embodied within this last Ancient woman – that made her so transcendental.
She was in his lap, on the bed, naked and shimmering in the firelight like a nymph caught in the sunset. Years of skill and practiced patience seemed to vanish in mere moments and it left him strangely confused and even vulnerable. She was lost in him, unthinking, suddenly a creature of instinct and survival. But he was equally lost in her and that never should have happened.
In minutes, he’d unclasped his pauldrons and she’d released the clip that held his coat shut at his waist. They were carelessly shoved away until they landed on the floor with a soft thump. His lips never left hers as he reached down and awkwardly freed himself of the rest of his garments.
Her legs were silk against his thighs and she felt so, so good against him. He knew that somehow, in a bizarre twist of fate, he’d been reduced to an incompetent schoolboy. On some level, even in the blazing haze of the moment, his anger flared at that realization and he tried to rally his thoughts and take hold of the situation as he should have from the very beginning.
But he failed again and again until in the frenzy of frustration and desire, he simply gave up. She was under him and he was over her and both were panting hard with a hunger and need that neither had ever experienced.
With effort, he held himself in place with their gazes locked. Her eyes were luminous and nothing short of incredible. Their cypress irises were rich and deep and clean, and he could admit, here with her, that she was lovely. His mako-enhanced, feline irises glowed with nearly-disturbing intensity. They were striking in their own right but clouded with glints of yellow. Tainted.
Oddly, in the ethereality of the moment, Aeris thought that they made him even more beautiful. They were the truth, of his twisted anger and hatred, reflected in his appearance. But it was truth nonetheless, so, heavenly in its own right.
His hand caressed the length of her leg before coming to rest behind her knee. Smoothly, he lifted her leg and guided her to wrap herself around him.
For the rest of time, he would not know what brought him to speak his next words.
“Do you understand what you are doing?”
She blinked at him in surprise and concern. She took a slow, deep breath before answering with closed eyes, “No, I don’t.”
He kissed her breast softly and chuckled. “And?” he asked.
“Please,” she whispered brokenly. Here, in this now, there were no shadows or ghosts or pain, and she didn’t want this now to end. Beyond, there was fear and uncertainty and responsibility and she couldn’t – couldn’t – deal with them now.
He smiled down at her – a gentle smile that nevertheless failed to touch his eyes.
Then he was inside her and she was sobbing and they were moving, slowly, slowly. The rage of violent desire cooled within them both, leaving a new and novel longing. It was strange and it was frightening, but through it all it was indisputably right and good.
It felt like coming home; which was foreign to Sephiroth, who had never known a home.
And as they were, they were Shiva and Shakti, each a universe of truths in and of themselves, and only together made whole. He was the destroyer and she was energy. As one, they completed each other, as in the beginning of time. From both, united, there was Creation.
And together, now, they became a tear in the veils that separated all the absolute knowledge of the universe, in all its impossibly overwhelming glory. Only from the union of opposites can there be enlightenment, and here, consumed within her and dying with every long, drawn out stroke, he began his journey. Not willingly, not even consciously, but he found himself on the path all the same.
She was soft, dark; he was hard, bright. Yin and yang, and together they transcended the world. It was as it had always been – where light could not exist without dark, nor could hardness exist without softness by its side. She was the earth and he was the heavens and in their union everything came to be.
His breathing was deep and steady and nothing like the animalistic panting that usually accompanied sex. Even through the euphoria he knew that this wasn’t normal. But he no longer cared.
His eyes never left her face. The experience was nothing short of amazing and ethereal. In the floating, dancing gold and blue lights around them, she was radiant and breathtaking.
It was as if they were melting and mingling. They were warmth and nothing else; metaphysical in their existence. He flowed into her, melded into her, and she back into him.
And in that place he lost himself completely, shattered into a thousand tiny fragments even as he found himself again and piece by piece reassembled his being. There, just beyond his reach, was something so shocking, so paralyzing in its infinite and indisputable truth of all that was. He didn’t know why, but he wanted it. Wanted to stretch out and touch it and drown himself in it, even as he knew that it would completely and utterly destroy him.
In that white corner of the heavens where all universal secrets could be found, he caught glimpses of himself and the woman he laid buried within. He saw fragments of clouded images: his human mother, the Promised Land, the puppet, the Lifestream. Cords of light wrapped around all of them, linking one to the other in permanent bonds. Some were thicker, some were thinner, all of different colors.
He saw the past and he saw the faces of billions of people and countless, innumerable creatures and living things. And if he stilled his mind and concentrated, he thought, perhaps, he even glimpsed the future.
But already the images were fading and though he grasped at them like a desperate child, they danced beyond his reach and bled into grayness and then into nothingness. Again, all that existed was his lover beneath him, clinging to him tightly, and the drifting, otherworldly spirit-images that whirled around them endlessly.
The illusory, fluttering spirits of blue and gold swirled around them faster and glowed brighter and brighter. His nerves were stretched now to a feverish pitch, every inch of his body singing powerfully. The sensations gathered and crested and crashed violently and he thought he felt himself die as the world dissolved into white. And perhaps he was reborn all over again in flames and ashes and unimaginable energy.
He was blind and deaf and perhaps even dumb, a single soul in a marvelously changed and yet unchanged world. The cosmos was brighter now; sharper. Yet in all ways the world was as it always had been, both beautiful and ugly and truthful with deceit. The axis of the world had tilted and the revolutions of space reversed. Or perhaps it had always been this way and he was seeing it just now in truth for the very first time.
Then everything vanished in one final burst of light and all that was possible was to simply collapse and let the darkness take him.
.
.
.

AN: Thanks again to shetan83 and VenusBlade for beta-reading.
So here we come to the core inspiration of Sepsis. Tantra. Isn’t that strange? Not the kind of tantra that pop culture tries to sell these days, but the traditional spiritual beliefs. Of course, my rendition is heavily bastardized to suit the purposes of the fic.
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Sepsis