surrender

Surrender

CloudXSephiroth

Yaoi, PWP, Lemon, SM, violence

Note: This is an unusual pairing just cuz I made Cloud seme and Seph uke. So don’t read this if you find that deeply disturbing… I know it’s unusual. Also, I finally figured out how to make Italics, so the story is complete. It just didn't make as much sense without them.

And, as you all know, these characters belong to squaresoft, not me.


I knew right away I was dreaming. The air had a thick, viscous quality to it and the landscape was nothing but a dark, bluish haze – black and blue like a giant bruise. And then, of course, Sephiroth was there, standing in that weird, foggy landscape, the black of his trenchcoat fading into the murky haze of the background. In the darkness of the dream he always first appeared to be nothing but a waterfall of silver hair and a pair of burning, emerald eyes. He was standing there every night – beautiful, insane Sephiroth – just how I’d left him in Nibleheim so long ago, with a smudge of ash on his face and smoke still lingering in his hair. Exactly how I remembered him… perhaps how he remembered himself as well.

This had become somewhat of a nightly ritual for us, meeting in dreams, although it was certainly not my doing. He was the last person on earth I wanted to see every time I shut my eyes, even more so on this particular night. However, I’ll get to that in a minute and tell you first why Sephiroth insisted on having these nightly meetings. As it turned out, after several nights of trying and failing to fight him, I finally realized he was just there for one simple reason: to fuck. You wouldn’t think such a seemingly draining, time-consuming procedure like mind-control would be spent on something as simple as sex, but that’s really all he wanted from me in those dreams. Sex. A few minutes of attention. Perhaps he was lonely, stuck up in the northern crater by himself.

At first I didn’t want it. At first it was more of a wrestling match than a screw, always ending up with him on top, biting my neck while he fucked me. For several nights it was like that, with me thinking that maybe, just maybe, I’d get the better of him. Needless to say, I never did… it was his dream, after all. Eventually, seeing that there was no avoiding the outcome, I gained a passive acceptance of our nights together, saving the trouble of the fight and letting him do as he pleased with me. And, over an even longer period of time, he became a little less rough, although he was never gentle. He’d take the time to suck my cock, letting me take handfuls of his long, thick hair and push his mouth down to the base... and he’d kiss the skin at the nape of my neck while he pushed his cock into me. It was just little things he did over time… caresses, occasional kisses that were longer and slower than they should have been. While he still relentlessly fucked my brains out every night, he acted almost like he loved me.

Almost like he used to be.

I was unconcerned with any of those matters on this particular night. In fact, I was so angry that even the blue-black dreamscape burned away to a bright, hot red. Sephiroth was standing there as usual, but instead of looking calm and controlling like he always did, he had a slightly disconcerted look on his pretty, pale face - a combination of how’d you just do that? and why so mad? I was so furious that I didn’t even give him time to speak as I walked up and punched him, hard, in the face, knuckles cracking bone. The force of the punch was so powerful it dazed him, and I almost winced when he fell and the pavement met his skull. Pavement? I must have been so mad that I had even made the ground hard and unforgiving… it seemed, for once, that this really was my dream. He laid there blinking, speechless, and he almost looked afraid when I screamed,

“YOU KILLED HER!”

“Killed who?” he asked, gazing up at me with the most innocent, baffled charm he could conjure in his current condition. My boot was like an anvil as it smashed down on his chest – I heard a rib pop with a sickening crunch.

“AERITH! WHO ELSE WOULD I BE TALKING ABOUT?!?”

His mouth was bright red with blood as he forced a smile. “I don’t know… I was just jealous, I guess,” he said with that lilting, deceiving voice. His breath left him with a hiss as I stomped his chest again, blood spilling out of the side of his smile.

“WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO IT?!? SHE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING TO YOU!!”

Sephiroth’s voice was now just a choked up rasp as he coughed, “Because I’m a sick bastard!” He laughed a little, turning his head to the side and spitting. “What are you gonna do? Kill me? It’s just a dream, you know…” His eyes met mine – hypnotic, taunting, and strangely calm, as if he’d been expecting to get the shit beat out of him tonight. Yeah, it was just a dream, but pain still fucking hurt. He made a ridiculously pathetic attempt to sit up and smiled again when my boot automatically smashed him once more against the pavement. He licked the blood off his lips, an out-of-place, horny look on his face.

It was at that very moment that it struck me, with a clarity loud and clear as church bells, that Sephiroth was actually enjoying being under me like that, crushed under my boot. I wondered briefly if it really was that simple in his mind: get Cloud angry enough to make him sadistic. Maybe, just maybe, killing Aerith was just a means towards a better fuck. It sounded crazy in my mind, but then again, Sephiroth was as crazy as they come.

“Well?” he said, his bloody face a little flushed.

“No… I know what you want. You just want to fuck me while I’m pissed off! Well, it’s not gonna happen! You don’t deserve SHIT after what you’ve done!”

The look on his face was mildly bemused as I quickly pinned him under me, digging my knees into his legs and wrapping my fingers around his throat. “You only deserve to DIE, and I’ll kill you every night until I see you in person if I have to!” I hissed as I slowly, deliberately began to squeeze, glaring into those horny green eyes, searching desperately for a spark of fear. His eyes widened slightly as I pressed down harder, and I felt his hands grab my shirt, more as if to hold me in place than push me away. The fact that he wasn’t even struggling just pissed me off even more, and I squeezed his neck as hard as I could, indulging in the feel of the muscles under my fingers as they strained for air. At least his body was rejecting pain, even if he wasn’t. There were several long, drawn-out seconds that consisted of nothing but Sephiroth’s life beginning to leave him. Nothing but watching the death begin to creep into his cynical eyes. Just then, I was caught completely off guard as he yanked me by the shirt, causing me to lose my balance and fall onto him. My hands instinctively left his throat as I righted myself, and I found that my face was inches from his, my hands on the pavement on either side of his head. He was gasping for breath, eyes clamped shut in a momentary grimace, and I could feel him shaking under me. I could also feel his erection, pressing against my hip. He really was a sick bastard.

What came next shocked me out of my senses.

“Take me, Cloud,” he breathed, the words barely audible as they escaped his lips.

The silence was profound around us, broken only by his ragged breaths.

Take me, he had said. My mind wanted to think that I had been hearing things, but the reality of those words became more tangible with every passing second as they registered in our minds.

I slapped him, hard, as if to prove to myself that I was still angry. He groaned and shifted under me, more blood trickling out of his mouth. Sephiroth wore blood like it was Gucci, that deep, rich red making his skin look even paler and more attractive… he was a man who rarely bled.

“You’re sick,” I spat, although the words sounded softer than I had intended. He said nothing, just stared up at me as if waiting for a real reaction. The smug glint was gone in his eyes, replaced by the glow of feverish lust. Something else, too… was it fear?

“Please,” he whispered, a hint of desperation in his voice. He raised up his hips to grind into mine. The heat and pressure felt good against my cock, and I pressed back despite myself, rocking my hips a little. His boots crunched in the gravel as he parted his legs for me, bending his knees ever so slightly. My breath hitched as I bucked up against him, my hardening cock now rubbing up against his ass through all the fabric. The moment felt like a paradox, being there in between Sephiroth’s legs. Everyone, everyone knew that he simply didn’t get fucked. Ever. Fucking Sephiroth’s ass was as alien a concept as Rufus ShinRa being straight. It just wasn’t a possibility.

Yet, somehow, there I was. Sephiroth was breathing heavily through clenched teeth, one hand stroking his hard cock through his pants, the other clenched into a fist at his side, as if he wanted to grab my hip and pull me even tighter against him but was afraid to. I ground into him again, harder, forcing a gasp out of his mouth. Again, and again. So this is what it would be like, I thought, glaring intently down at his flushed face, watching the way he bit his lip when I jerked my hips forward. This is General Sephiroth, mass murderer, compulsive sadist, wanting my cock. I crushed my hips into him for several minutes, reveling in the way it looked, and felt. He looked vulnerable, and helpless, as if his deepest insecurities were also sprawled out under me. God, he was hot.

I leaned down and tasted his mouth. It wasn’t as if we had never kissed before – hell, we knew every detail of each others’ bodies as well as we knew our own. There was something completely different about this kiss, though. Quite simply, I was in control. I pried his lips open with mine and forced my tongue into his mouth, raping it, fucking it. He groaned into my mouth and squirmed under me, reaching that one reluctant hand up to touch me-

His groan went from quiet to furious as I bit down hard on his tongue, drawing blood. I grabbed both his hands and slammed them down, still pinning his mouth with mine. Breathing heavy, I broke the kiss, getting a glimpse at his incredulous, almost frightened eyes before I said,

“Don’t fucking touch me. If we’re going to do this, we’re doing it my way. Don’t do a goddamn thing unless I tell you to. Understand?” I had never spoken to anyone in such a violent tone, let alone Sephiroth. However, this was supposed to be revenge. If I couldn’t kill him just yet, I was going to make him pay in other ways.

Sephiroth was silent. I wondered what he was thinking, hearing me speak to him like that. When we had been fuck buddies back in ShinRa, it had been his role to control me in bed. He was damn good at it, too, and strict, enforcing all the same rules of obedience and respect that he demanded 24-7 from his soldiers. If I had ever spoken to him like that back then I would have been severely punished. However, this was not the same situation at all, and none of those old rules applied anymore.

I kissed him again, quicker this time, and began to move my lips down his jaw, stopping to clean up some blood with my tongue that was still oozing from a split. He groaned again as I made my way down to his neck, knowing fully well that it was his pleasure point. I kissed the abused skin there, sucking it and biting it, almost hard enough to draw blood. He moved his hips under me in response, trying desperately to find something to rub his cock up against now that his hands were pinned. I slowly moved further down, torturing him with kisses.

“Are you going to be good and keep your hands at your sides?” I asked him as I reached the buckles that crossed his chest, half undoing one with my teeth. He nodded weakly, biting his lip with anticipation. “Good,” I said in a voice that could have been used for talking to a child. I let his hands go and made quick work with his straps and buckles, belts and hooks. I made sure to keep my face cold and uncaring, shooting him an occasional glare. Don’t move or I’ll hit you again, the glare said. He understood, and let me undress him with an obedient silence that only a former soldier for the ShinRa could possess.

Stripping Sephiroth was like unwrapping a birthday gift. There wasn’t a flaw on him, and every inch of his body was so toned and pale that he could have been a Greek statue. The red welt on his chest from my boot only seemed to make him more attractive. As much as we had screwed, I’d only seen him fully naked a handful of times, so it was a thrill slipping him out of all that black leather and armor. He didn’t look nearly as intimidating without it all on – infact he could almost pass as feminine, with the combination of his long hair and lily white skin. It was probably the reason he rarely got undressed during sex. I was tempted to just take him right there… just stick my cock in dry and hear him scream… but this was far too rare an opportunity to rush through. As far as I knew, this was a one time thing, and he’d be back to his same controlling self again tomorrow.

I opted instead to torture him a little more, and maybe make him beg. Once he was free of all his clothes, I pushed him back down onto the pavement and worked my lips down from where I had left off. His hands remarkably stayed off me as I inched closer and closer to his hard cock, teasing him to the point where he was cursing under his breath and clawing the pavement with his fingers. Finally, after I decided he had suffered enough, I took the head of his cock in my mouth and sucked it, using my other hand to pump his shaft. He had a large, impressive cock, and there was absolutely no way I could even begin to fit it all in my mouth, so I took as much as I could, and stroked the base with my hand. Sephiroth was emmiting a stream of half-audible profanities, his eyes feverishly bright and a half-grimace on his lips. He was very responsive to oral sex, and usually bit his lip to keep from sighing when he was in charge.

Not tonight, though. He seemed to have just given up staying stoic.

I paused for a split second to wet my hand with the combination of spit and precum in my mouth, and got rhythm going again before I pressed a wet finger against his ass. I felt his whole body tense as I pressed harder, and slowly pushed it in. I had a hard time suppressing a groan as I eased my finger further inside him until I was knuckles deep. He was so tight I swear I almost lost circulation in my finger, and it took me several minutes of sucking his cock and finger-fucking for him to begin to relax. Finally, he was seeming to enjoy it, rocking his hips slightly to meet my thrusts. I carefully slipped in another finger, stretching him further. He cried out. As I continued to loosen him up enough for my cock, all I could think about was hearing him scream when I fucked him. Maybe I could make him cry.

When he was ready, I sat up on my knees and put his legs over my shoulders. The look he gave me was unforgettable: a beautiful combination of want and fear. It was a look I thought I’d never see on his face. I decided to humiliate him a little more before I fucked him, and teasingly rubbed the head of my dick against his ass, delighting in the desperate moan that escaped his lips. With an evil grin on my face, I asked him,

“Do you want my cock?”

A flicker of indignation lit his eyes, and faded when I pushed against him, almost hard enough to slip in. “Yes,” he said quietly through clenched teeth, as if the answer had been forced out of him.

“And what’s my name? Don’t just whisper… I can barely hear you.”

He looked so angry I was almost expecting to get thrown, but the answer came, a little louder. “Cloud.”

I decided to push my luck a little further, and asked, “And just what was it you wanted me to do? I can’t seem to remember…”

I almost laughed, watching the Great Sephiroth seethe with embarrassment as if his mind and body were telling him to do two different things. Finally, with a forced monotone, he said, “I want you to fuck me.”

A shiver ran down my spine… those words could have been enough on their own to make me cum. With as much calm deliberation I could muster, I leaned over him, crushing his hands under mine, and slowly pushed in.

As much as I had planned to stay solemn, I lost my self control right then. Sephiroth was tight around my cock, tighter than anyone I had ever fucked. He cried out and flexed his hands, and I forced myself in the rest of the way, burying my cock inside him to the hilt. After that, I gave in to the euphoric feeling of his walls around me and fucked him hard and fast, pulling out almost all the way before I slammed back in. We became a frenzy of heat and sweat, his body flushed and hot under mine.

I cursed him. I bit him. I raped him. I made him scream my name, shoving him onto his stomach and fucking him from behind. If he really was a god, I was going straight to hell. The building heat of orgasm rose inside me, heightened with every cry of pain, every wince of his tear-blurred eyes. I fucked him faster, faster, one hand wrapped around his shaft and the other digging into his hip, until we both came, shuddering against each other in an ecstasy of hatred.

Sephiroth collapsed onto the ground, a mess of blood, sweat and cum. He looked more exhausted than I’d ever seen anyone look, marred with road rash and bruises. Despite my will to remain cool and collected, I collapsed down next to him, thankful for the coolness of the pavement. We said nothing to each other for a while, both of us basking in the afterglow of the incredible, insane screw we’d just had. As far as I was concerned, there wasn’t much to say… Aerith was still dead, no matter how humiliated Sephiroth was. I was kind of wishing I’d just wake up. After a while, he broke the silence.

“So you really think you can kill me?” he asked, his weary voice unreadable.

“I hope so,” I responded dryly.

There was another silence… I looked over at him, and he seemed to be reflecting, staring up at the red dream-sky. Finally he said, “I hope so too.” He looked over at me and smiled. It wasn’t a sarcastic smile, or even a spiteful smile… he just looked sad, and lost.

I woke up exhausted and covered in sweat, feeling as if I hadn’t slept a wink. The hotel sheets were sticky with cum, as they were just about every night, thanks to Sephiroth’s nightly dream-visits. To my friends, I must have seemed like a fucking pervert, probably groaning and rolling around in my sleep. It wasn’t something we discussed, though… at least they spared me the awkwardness of explaining my dreams. The details of last night’s dream flooded back to me as I lay in the gray light of early morning… strangling Sephiroth, hitting him, screwing him. He had just taken it. It was almost as if he had surrendered.

Many days passed as the crew and I plugged onward to our destination. Shit happened, Sephiroth went back to his old, manipulating self, and I almost forgot about that one night that he had let me take him. Like all dreams, it just faded away to the back of my memory. The dreams themselves happened less and less, Sephiroth seeming more desperate and psychotic each time. He never let me have him again, but I’d catch that same look on his face sometimes – that wistful, lost expression. I had many guesses on what it could have been… guilt, perhaps? Regret? Or was he just sick of it all, caught up in a cycle of events that he had no power over? Perhaps he was just a pawn in Jenova’s game. I was very confused. The bastard had ruined my life more than once, yet he still tore me up, leaving me to think that maybe there was still an ounce of good in him somewhere.

Well, I finally figured it out. The day came that we fought, and somehow I came out victorious, more confused than triumphant that I was actually standing there, watching the life fade from his eyes, my sword lodged oddly in his chest. There was Sephiroth – my idol, my lover, and my worst enemy – dying. I’d rehearsed the scenario a million times… what kind of cynical taunt I’d say, the ruthless look I’d have on my face… but I found myself unable to say or do anything. I just stared blankly in his eyes. He smiled a little, that same wistful smile, although it didn’t look lost anymore, and said,

“Thank you.”

I blinked. And blinked again as he started to fade, like everyone does when they die.

It was one hell of an empty victory, but at least I understood. He wanted me to take him - in sex and in death - and it made sense, in an odd kind of way. I suppose it was a twisted form of love.