|By : aoigensou|
Category: Final Fantasy VII > General
Views: 758 -:- 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.|
~ By Lizzie ~
WARNING: Yaoi Lemon. SephirothxVincent…
DISCLAIMER: None o’ this is mine, it’s Square’s. I
just use them for entertainment purposes! ^_^
The night before Sephiroth
was supposed to go inspect the Nibelheim reactor of Shinra Inc. was spent in solitude. He had ordered one
soldier to keep watch and the rest to get some sleep. But he himself didn’t
sleep at all. He rarely did; he never found much need for sleep. Most of the
people he worked with found this odd, but they never questioned him. After all,
he was Sephiroth, hero of the Great War. Generally
they just left him to himself, and he didn’t mind. Being an enigma had its
advantages; and privacy was one of them.
At first that night Sephiroth just stared out the
window at the inn, but soon tired of the monotony of the night. It was a night
like a thousand others he had spent, sleepless and silent. Quietly, he made his
way downstairs, taking care not to disturb the other patrons of the inn with
his footsteps on the stairs. Stealthily he made his way to the door. Once
reaching the cool outside, he let his silver hair flow with the currents of the
breeze, shining in the pale moonlight. His intensely blue eyes sparkled,
reflecting the glow of the magical moonbeams. He was a vision come to life,
born of flesh but with the countenance of a god.
The town was deserted this late at night, and Sephiroth
was grateful for that much. He’d been feeling out of sorts lately, for an
unknown reason; and the last thing that he needed was the groveling awe of the
country folk. Slowly, he strolled down the empty streets, past the
quaint-looking houses, and towards the imposing building at the far side of
town, known as the Shinra Mansion. He was impressed by the grandeur and
elegant appearance of the large structure, and appraised it silently. Opening the gate that kout out unwanted intruders carefully so as
not to make it squeak, Sephiroth entered the
courtyard, letting the wrought-iron shut softly behind him. Once at the
front door he paused, once again looking upward and admiring the architecture.
Saying nothing, he entered the building with no expression on his face. Sephiroth was the ultimate stoic, keeping his thoughts and
feelings to himself and focusing his entire being on the jobs he was given. He
never allowed himself any personal comfort, and worked twice as hard as he
asked any of his subordinates to work. As Shinra’s
top officer, he felt that to be an example he should live a life of sparseness.
It showed in his belongings (or lack thereof) and in his demeanor. He never
showed outward emotions, never let anything startle him, and never indulged
himself the least bit.
The entry hall of the mansion echoed with his footsteps, making the gloom of
the empty space seem more melancholy. Sephiroth’s
eyes were never still, he drank in the surroundings with a thirst reserved only
for drought. In his years in the army he had been starved for beauty, and in
its own way the deserted gloom of the mansion was beautiful. True, there were
cobwebs everywhere and everything was in disarray, but it had an appeal that
was more than just an appearance. The mansion had history, and Sephiroth intended upon finding out some of the stories
that the mansion had to tell.
After exploring the bottom floor for a few minutes, Sephiroth
tired of stepping around furniture strewn all over the place in random rooms,
and scarcely anything in others. However, as he was leaving a room, the one
closest to the door of the mansion, a paper on a desk caught his eye. Sephiroth cocked his eyebrow once he read it. A game? It was something to do to pass the hours before
daylight and his return to his duties and responsibilities. For now, he would
amuse himself with something one of the users of the mansion had come up with.
Four clues, four numbers. The combination to a safe.
Sounded easy enough, and for Sephiroth it was. He
deciphered the clues almost effortlessly, going from the box in the topiary
garden to the piano in the conservatory and to the number written on the floor
with directions from a squeak in the floor in the bedroom with the round stone
wall. Even the number written in invisible ink didn’t fool him for a second.
With the four numbers collected and tucked safely in his foolproof memory, Sephiroth headed to the safe that was in a room directly to
the right on the second floor of the mansion.
Sephiroth entered the room and opened the safe with
ease, only trying once. The “missing number” monster that came out was no match
for him, and he killed it without a second thought. A shiny red object was
sitting on the floor next to the safe; it had jumped out when the safe was
opened. Sephiroth wasn’t interested in taking things
that didn’t belong to him, so he just put what he discovered was a summon Materia back into the safe and was about to close it,
finding nothing of interest until a dull silver object caught his attention.
It was an old-fashioned key, not something usually kept in a safe this
well-locked. It didn’t look to match any of the locks he’d seen on this floor
or the one below him. He turned it over in his hand, inspecting it more fully.
He knew that he should put it back into the safe and close it, but something
drew him to this key. It was as if he was meant to find it. As if he were meant
to open the door it went to, even though he had no idea where that door lay.
‘The basement…’ a thought whispered to him, nearly inaudible. Sephiroth blinked, trying to determine the source of the
whispering (Jenova of course ^_^), but couldn’t put
his finger on it. Shrugging off the feeling of being watched, he followed his
intuition the room where the round stone wall was. In the center of it was a
door that Sephiroth had failed to see in his quest
for the combination numbers. He walked up to it and placed a hand on the rough
surface, surprised to feel it swing open under his gentle touch.
Torches were lit, illuminating a spiral staircase leading downward. The way to
the basement, Sephiroth assumed. He gingerly stepped
forward onto the landing, testing the first step for strength. When he found
that it could support his weight, he continued downward, quickly testing each
step lest he step on one that would cause his fall to the very bottom floor of
the basement, and possibly his demise. It took some time, but Sephiroth made it safely to the bottom of the staircase.
Looking up at his path, he saw that the door upstairs had closed of its own
volition. Somehow, that didn’t surprise him. Turning his back on the stairway,
he made his way down a torchlit and dank hall.
Straight ahead was a wooden door that looked to be the entrance of a large
study. At first he thought to go there, but something to his left caught his
eye. Lit by the dim fire, a lock matching the key was attached to a door. The
door was in a shadow, and most anyone would have missed it. But
not Sephiroth. It seemed that fate was leading
him here, and he couldn’t do anything but stand by and watch.
Sephiroth walked up to the door and placed the key
into the lock. It was a perfect fit, and the key turned the in the lock with a h a hitch. The lock sprang open and the door groaned as if it had been sealed for
ages. Sephiroth didn’t even have to touch it for it
to open. It swung inward on its hinges and came to a stop with a creak. He
poked his head into the door and surveyed the surroundings. There wasn’t much
to observe. Coffins were strewn about, and at the very head of the room on a
raised platform was one that was more prominent than the rest. Sephiroth walked as if sleepwalking towards this
distinctive coffin. He touched the lid of it when he got there, marveling at
it’s warmth despite the musty cold of the rest of the room. Curious as to what
lay inside, Sephiroth moved the lid upward a few
inches. To his surprise, the lid of the coffin moved the rest of the way off on
“Who disturbs me in my eternal slumber?” a voice, sounding weary, echoed
through the room. Again to his astonishment, a man clad in blood-red and black
clothing rose from the coffin and levitated over his resting place.
The man was very mysterious-looking. Clad from head to toe in crimson, from his
headband keeping his raven hair out of his eyes, to the overcoat/cape that hid
the rest of his body, he was exciting to behold. Even his eyes glowed ruby in
the firelight. Sephiroth soon saw that that was his
actual eye color, though no human had eyes the color of blood spilled on snow.
This man was the exception. His hair was unruly, and the rest of his face
hidden in shadows, as if he had a secret to hide from the world, which perhaps
he did. The most shocking part of this man, however wasn’t his eyes, it was the
absence of the left arm, which had in its stead a metal claw. Sephiroth managed to tear his eyes away from what would
usually be considered a deformity or a handicap. Sephiroth
found it fascinating.
“I do,” he answered him firmly, no fear showing in his voice, for indeed, he
felt none. Only curiosity was felt for this strange man who slept in a coffin
in the basement of a deserted mansion. The man appraised him silently for a
“What do you wish of me?” he asked finally, after a long moment of the two men
simply gazing at each other.
“I do not know. I felt drawn to this place, and to you. Perhaps, I thought that
you could tell me why…” Sephiroth answered him.
“I have no answers for you, only sins that I must atone for.” The man lowered
back into his coffin and the lid started to shut over it once more.
“Wait!” Sephiroth cried out, an arm outstretched. The
show of emotion was unnatural for him; it felt foreign, but somehow right at
the same time. The lid of the coffin paused, the head of black hair looking
back at Sephiroth once more.
“What is it you wish of me?” he asked wearily.
“I just wish to converse with you. To know your name, and why you reside down
here,” Sephiroth said. The man considered his words.
“I cannot stay out long; I do not deserve to be with the world of the living.
But I shall stay for a time. My name is Vincent.”
“Vincent…” Sephiroth repeated, the sound of the name
rolling off his tongue like music. Vincent cocked his head to the side, intrigued
by the silver-haired stranger that had invaded his solitude.
“What is it that you are doing here, alone?” Sephiroth
inquired. Vincent sighed.
“I atone for sins I have committed. I am down here to atone for the wrongs I
have committed to my lost love, Lucrecia. Because I
was unable to stop it, she was tortured, her child ripped from her before she
even had a chance to hold it. Because of my weakness I was turned into a
monster…” Vincent motioned to the metal claw hanging to his side. He swept his
hand over his face in a defeated manner. “But I do not wish to speak of such
things. I must spend my time here, trying to make right what was wronged.”
“How does spending an eternity in a coffin make anything right?” Sephiroth asked Vincent.
“It is the fate I was condemned to, not my own choice.”
“Then what is holding you here now? I see no guards, no other living being
here…” Sephiroth looked around, trying to see if he
missed someone else, but saw nothing but coffins all around.
“Guilt holds me here; the knowledge that I should have done something to help
the woman I loved holds me here. I can no longer face the world of the living
with a clean conscience. My punishment is to spend nitynity here, with my
guilt.” Vincent turned and began levitating toward his coffin again, intent
upon returning to his slumber, his dreams of Lucrecia,
but something held him back. Sephiroth had grabbed
Vincent’s hand as he turned to leave.
“Don’t go yet…” he pleaded. Vincent turned around and let his piercing red eyes
meet with Sephiroth’s clear blue ones.
“Why is it you wish me to stay?” Vincent asked finally. Sephiroth
looked downward, breaking the eye contact.
“I don’t know… I just have a feeling that our encounter isn’t supposed to end
like this,” he answered.
“Then how is it supposed to end?” Vincent said after a moment. Sephiroth steeled himself to do something that he never
thought he’d do in his life.
“Like this…” he whispered, laying his lips onto Vincent’s in a soft kiss.
Vnt’snt’s eyes widened in surprise, the first real emotion he had shown, and he
“What are you doing?” he asked breathlessly. Sephiroth
stepped closer to him and found his way into Vincent’s red coat, wrapping his
arms around the mysterious man’s waist and pulling them closer, so that the
length of their bodies were touching.
“I am doing what feels right, Vincent. I will understand if you don’t want to
do this, but it feels right.” Sephiroth pressed his
lips to Vincent’s once more, not surprised when the other man pulled back again.
“I… Lucrecia… my sins…” Vincent turned his head to
the side, and Sephiroth placed his warm mouth on the
exposed cheek, kissing him in a way that Vincent felt down to his knees.
“Nothing you have done… nothing should make you deny yourself of all pleasure.
Atoning for sins does not mean that you have to turn into an unfeeling
creature. Just because you love a woman does not mean that you cannot also love
me…” Sephiroth took an arm from around Vincent’s
waist and caressed his cheek. Vincent tried to move from the touch, but Sephiroth’s other arm held him in place.
“You are making this difficult to resist.” Vincent turned and looked into Sephiroth’s eyes with a serious expression.
“That is my point…” Sephiroth trailed off, claiming
Vincent’s mouth once again. This time Vincent didn’t resist, just leaned into
Time seemed to stop as the kiss deepened, Sephiroth’s
tongue playing with Vincent’s lips, urging him to part them. He did so with
reluctance, and Sephiroth explored his mouth with
great relish. Vincent at first was taken aback, but after a moment of
hesitation his tongue responded with equal voraciousness.
The kiss made wet smacking sounds as their lips came together and parted
several times. Sephiroth’s free hand had once again
found its way into the folds of Vincent’s cloak and was undoing the fasteners
that held it together. Soon the cloak fell open exposing the lean beauty of
Vincent’s body, clothed all in black. Sephiroth’s
hands trailed upwards over Vincent’s torso, sending shivers down his spine with
the sensation. Once Sephiroth’s hands made it to
Vincent’s shoulders, he slipped the cloak off of them, causing it to fall all
the way off of his body and into a crumpled heap on the floor; leaving Vincent
Passive until now, Vincent brought his good hand, which had been hanging at his
side, up to undo Sephiroth’s own armor and overcoat,
leaving Sephiroth clothed also in black. Sephiroth stared at Vincent, a smile playing in his eyes.
Vincent gazed back, unblinkingly. Sephiroth’s hands
continued upward, one coming to rest at Vincent’s jawline,
the other sweeping through his hair and removing the red headband that held his
hair out of his face. Once freed, the unruly strands of silky raven hair rested
around Vincent’s face, framing it. Sephiroth combed through
it with his fingers, marveling at the softness of it.
The kissing noise was heard once again, as the two resumed exploring each
other’s mouths. Neither of them held anything back, all traces of shyness and
reservation was gone. Only passion remained. They were pressed close together,
each able to feel the curves of the other. It seemed as if they were made for
each other’s embrace, they fit perfectly together, like puzzle pieces.
They were both soon aroused by the kissing, and could feel each other’s
erections straining against the fabric of their pants. Unable to resist much
longer, Sephiroth removed his hands from Vincent’s
head, and pulled off the black shirt that the other man was wearing, exposing
his chest, already heaving from the passionate kisses
they’d shared. Sephiroth dipped his head forward akisskissed his stomach, leaving a trail of wet kisses up to his nipples. Taking his
time, Sephiroth took each one into his mouth,
swirling his tongue around them, causing them to spring erect. Vincent gasped
at the sensations that were going through his body. Never before had he felt
anything quite like it.
When he had finished giving attention to Vincent’s nipples, he moved upwards
and kissed Vincent’s neck, once in a while breaking from what he was doing to
kiss his mouth tenderly. All the while his hands steadily trailed downward.
Making it to the top of Vincent’s pants, Sephiroth
played with his belt before opening it quickly and slipping his hands into the
pants, and the silken boxers that brought a genuine smile from Sephiroth. Vincent inhaled deeply and held his breath. His
already hard erection had become painfully hard from the presence of the other
man’s hands. Sephiroth gripped Vincent’s arousal,
squeezing gently, and began to stroke it. A moan of delight filled Vincent’s
mouth, and Sephiroth became even more aroused just by
hearing the pleasure that he gave the other man. Knowing that he could elicit
such a response from another was empowering. Without stopping his motions, Sephiroth withdrew one hand and began to slide Vincent’s
pants down over his waist. A hand to his wrist, however, caused him to stop. Sephiroth looked up at Vincent’s face, a confused
expression lit up on his beautiful features. Vincent said nothing, but
levitated both of them into the air, and down into the coffin.
Vincent allowed himself to be pushed back into a laying position by Sephiroth, settling against the silken lining of the
sarcophagus usually reserved for death. Sephiroth’s
hands had withdrawn from Vincent’s clothing, and were now busy with removing
the calf-high boots that he wore, tossing them out with Vincent’s cloak.
Vincent whimpered with need as Sephiroth took his
time, removing his own thigh-high boots and disposing of them in a similar
Sephiroth completely disrobed himself before
returning his attention to Vincent, who was laying with his knees drawn up and
apart, Sephiroth kneeling between them. He touched
his own erection briefly, anticipating the pleasure that was to come, from
being with a kindred soul. The anxious noises of Vincent brought his focus back
though, and he moved his hands from himself to his dark-haired lover, placing
them on either side of his waist and sliding the black material past his hips
and off of his body. Tossing the pants carelessly behind him, he stared down at
the silk boxers, sliding his thumbs under the waistband and tugging gently.
They yielded their position without a struggle, and soon both Sephiroth and Vincent were exposed to each other fully.
Sephiroth leaned forward and placed his hands on
either side of Vincent’s head, kissing him slowly, languidly, his hips
thrusting forward, causing their erections to rub together. Vincent threw his
head back in ecstasy, breaking the kiss with Sephiroth
and shutting his eyes tightly. Silently he begged Sephiroth
for release, which Sephiroth was all-too-willing to
give him. Sephiroth kissed Vincent’s body, starting
at his chin and working his way slowly downward, until his mouth hovered over
the source of need. Little droplets of moisture had appeared at the very tip,
and Sephiroth breathed on it, getting a loud moan
from the other man. Trusting that he was doing the right thing, Sephiroth took Vincent into his mouth, running his tongue
around the tip and sucking gently. Vincent clutched at the silk lining of the
coffin, the muscles in his legs tensing and untensing.
Sephiroth took more of Vincent into his mouth and
sucked even harder, this time receiving a scream.
“God yes, harder!” The cry was heard throughout the
mansion. Sephiroth did as he was commanded, sucking
with his might. After a minute or two, he came up for air, taking his mouth off
of Vincent’s arousal, and blowing cool air onto it. Vincent drew in several
shuddering breaths, and Sephiroth replaced his mouth,
running his teeth down the length of Vincent’s erection. With a final scream of
ecstasy, Vincent came in Sephiroth’s mouth, waves of
incredible pleasure washing over him.
Sephiroth let Vincent’s essence fill his mouth, and
swirled it around before swallowing, savoring every drop of it. Vincent lay
still in the coffin, consumed by the intense feelings he was experiencing. His
chest heaved and his breathing was ragged and uneven. His erection had gone,
having been sated by Sephiroth only moments before. Sephiroth’s however, was still painfully hard and begging
Sephiroth began stroking himself, coaxing himself
further and further towards the brink, but not allowing himself to go over the
edge. When a liberal amount of precum had been
expelled, he covered his fingers in it and left his erection straining. Gently,
he parted Vincent’s legs, and Vincent, who was still lying lethargically still,
let him. Sephiroth positioned himself between
Vincent’s legs and leaned over, kissing him deeply. Vincent could still taste
himself on Sephiroth’s tongue, and delved deeper, as
if trying to possess him from the inside out.
The fierce kissing was steadily reawakening Vincent’s sleeping arousal. Sephiroth could feel it pressing against his abdomen once
again, and pulled apart from Vincent, leaving a thread of saliva between them
as he resumed his upright kneeling position. His fingers were still soaked in
his own precum, which aided his penetration of
Vincent with his fingers. Vincent’s hips bucked upward when first one, then two
and finally three fingers penetrated his opening and began administering to
Vincent’s growing need. With each movement Vincent’s hips thrust up, and
Vincent moaned in ecstasy.
Sephiroth was going very slowly, making Vincent feel
the pleasure until he felt he would burst. Like with warfare,
Sephiroth was infinitely patient. But his
patience was driving Vincent mad.
“Do it… I want you inside me…” Vincent breathed heavily. Hearing this, Sephiroth lost all patience and withdrew his finger,
replacing it with his well-lubricated member. Holding his breath, Sephiroth slowly penetrated Vincent, expelling the withheld
air as he pushed further and further into his tight opening. Vincent’s loud
moan told Sephiroth that he was thoroughly enjoying
the experience of being taken by another man. Once completely inside of
Vincent, he stayed where he was, rocking back and forth without withdrawing.
Drawing a steady breath, Sephiroth pulled out halfway
and thrusted, seeing stars and feeling sensations
that never before had been felt by him. Vincent’s hips came up to meet him as
he returned completely inside of him.
‘I’ve never felt anything this wonderful before…’ Sephiroth
thought as he did it again, establishing a rhythm. Vincent’s moans soon matched
the rhythm, and they had a symphony of passion before long. Moaning,
breathing, friction, music to the lovers’ ears.
As he felt himself coming close to the edge, Sephiroth
grasped Vincent’s erection and pumped it hard, trying to bring him along with
him. He leaned forward for another frantic kiss as the rhythm increased in
tempo and intensity, culminating in a scream from both men as they came at the
same time; Sephiroth into Vincent and Vincent on
himself and Sephiroth. The moan died in their throats
and Sephiroth lay heavily upon Vincent’s chest, his
breath warming Vincent’s neck. Before now, he had just been Sephiroth,
super soldier and loner. Now he was a part of something beautiful and pleasureful. He had never felt so at peace before.
A/N: So… there you have it, my first lemon scene ever. Did I do ok? Were the
two overly OOC? Should I continue? Eh, I may whether people want it or not.
Gives me practice for other fics. Anyway, hope you
enjoy! Hope this one was a good mix of a bit of plot and a lot of smut!
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