BY : GodOfInsanity
Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male > Sephiroth/Vincent
Dragon prints: 1406
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 warning(s): Language, Humor, M/M Yaoi implications


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 CH02: The Kiss


The crimson-eyed Turk didn’t budge from his chosen spot against the wall. He fixed Sephiroth with his usual nonchalant, unreadable stare as his mind processed everything that he had just figured out. One of those things being that Sephiroth was genuinely attracted to him. At first, he hadn’t been certain of it since when they had first met, they had both been heavily influenced by drugs. Being a Turk and (being Vincent Valentine) had taught him never to assume anything. He was always one to carefully gather all of the facts first before he could come to a logical conclusion. Just like the General, opinions meant very little to the Turk. In the end, it was usually opinions or emotions that led to something bad. That was one reason why he sought Truth rather than personal fulfillment.

One thing Vincent still did not know for certain was whether Sephiroth was merely infatuated with him or not. The Turk wasn’t a promiscuous man by nature and like everything about him, he took everything rather seriously. If the young man was merely lusting after him, then the Turk would take no part in it. After all, lust and infatuation were both fleeting things. Eventually, it would come to pass, fulfilled or not.

“Retiring for the night sounds like an excellent idea,” quietly started the ex-Turk as he kept his level gaze locked with Sephiroth’s. Pushing off from the wall, he strode slowly over to the General and stopped right in front of him. He then offered a hand of assistance and when Sephiroth clasped his hand in his, the Turk effortlessly heaved him up to his feet. The dark-haired man immediately released the younger male’s hand and smoothly inquired, “This is where I take my leave, Sephiroth. Good night and I will see you in the morning.”

Now that he had risen from the couch, Sephiroth did feel the familiar blanket of exhaustion drape around him. He wanted nothing more than to fall back on the comfortable couch and take a little nap, but something stopped him. The Turk. For some reason, the idea of Vincent leaving bothered him immensely like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. That led him to grab the Turk by the shoulder before he could walk away. The words sprang unbidden out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “I have two guest rooms. You are welcome to stay, of course. That would…make the commute for you that much easier.”

“That is very kind of you to offer, but I do have a place to stay,” murmured the Turk as he tried to ignore the touch on his shoulder than seemed to burn right through his clothing.

“You are supposed to follow me around and ensure that I am well at all times, am I correct?” Coolly inquired the General as he tightened his grip on the older man’s shoulder.

Vincent nodded once.

“You have been assigned to me until I am mentally and emotionally stable. Is that also correct?”

The Turk nodded again. He couldn’t help wondering what the kid was playing at.

“Then according to Shinra’s orders, you must remain close to me at all times,” started Sephiroth as he released the Turk’s shoulder from his iron grip. With a ghost of a smile, he then said, “Who knows…I may do something stupid in your absence since I have been branded an invalid by my superiors.”

“Sephiroth, you are not an invalid,” disagreed Vincent as he turned around to face the younger man. He wanted to sigh, but refrained from doing so. “Think of it as an internal injury of a different kind. If you do not treat it, it will not heal. The state of your mind directly correlates with your body.  Both must be well to function and if one is unwell, the other will deteriorate as well.”

The General was beginning to feel twinges of annoyance. Sighing, he gestured with his hands as he flippantly asked, “How am I supposed to ‘heal’ when I cannot even remember what happened to me?”

“You will. It may seem to you that you’re an amnesiac, but you are not. You have been traumatized by something and because of that, you have chosen to block it from your subconscious. In time, you will remember, but only when you are ready to deal with it.”

Sephiroth sighed. “How do you know?”

Vincent lowered his gaze to the ground and after several moments of silence, he mumbled, “Because I know what it is like.”

Surprised by that admission, the General stared unblinkingly at the other man. He was even more curious now about the Turk then he had been before. Sephiroth wanted to know what the other had been through, but he felt it wasn’t his place to pry. It was fairly obvious to him that Vincent was a private man who spoke only out of necessity. If it did not need to be said, then he would not say it.

“I will stay the night,” sighed the Turk. He felt that it was a bad idea; nevertheless, he knew that Sephiroth would continue to insist him to remain in his residence.

In an authoritative voice that left no room for discussion, Sephiroth declared, “You will stay every night until I am deemed fit to serve again. If I need you, you must be close enough to assist me. Do you have any issues with that?”

Yes. “No, I have no issue with that. I will comply with Shinra’s orders until the given time, but,” started Vincent as he drew closer to the General. He tweaked Sephiroth on the nose as if he were a child. “Remember that I am still in charge and until I am reprieved from duty, you will do as I say, when I say. Until you can fully function again, you are in my hands.”

Sephiroth wrinkled his nose from the feeling of being tweaked. He hated it when people touched his nose like that. He vaguely remembered some lab assistant tweaking his nose once. He hadn’t reacted in violence, but he did warn the woman not to ever do that again.

And dammit, here was the Turk doing the same thing he had hated when he was a child. The man was beyond infuriating, irritating, frustrating, and…well, regardless of all that, Sephiroth suddenly felt the strong compulsion to kiss him. He had never kissed anyone before, but he had witnessed others do it and at those times, he had deemed such a thing as frivolous and unnecessary. Yet now, with Vincent standing before him, he wanted to try it more than ever.



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Come early the next morning, around 6 A.M., Sephiroth was unceremoniously awakened from his dreamless slumber by Vincent. He had instantly protested and grumbled as he hid under the blankets as if the gunman couldn’t see him. He mumbled something about Turks being stupid jerks as he attempted to resume sleep.

The Turk didn’t fall for it, of course. Any other person would have taken pity on Sephiroth, but he was Vincent. The gunman promptly ripped the blankets away, exposing the half-naked General. He even went as far as to literally drag Sephiroth out of his bed.

“I’m starting to rethink you staying here, after all,” growled Sephiroth after he had emerged from his shower, dressed, and entered the kitchen to sit at the table. He stared down at the bowl and wrinkled his nose.  “I’m not eating this.”

“Too late to change your mind now,” said Vincent as he walked over and placed two glasses on the table near Sephiroth. One was a glass of orange juice and the other was a glass of milk. He also placed a small plate that consisted of several familiar-looking vitamins. “And yes, you’re eating that.”

What is this?” Asked the General as he glowered at the grayish white contents of the bowl. It was obvious he wasn’t exactly a morning person.

“Oatmeal. It is good for you and it is very filling,” answered Vincent as he leaned against the wall and avidly watched the General. He wouldn’t admit it, but in spite of the younger man’s bratty, rebellious attitude, he still found him rather charming.

“Oatmeal, oatmeal, oatmeal,” repeated Sephiroth as if merely saying the name could tell him everything about it. Picking up a spoon, he scooped some of the oatmeal in it and brought it up to his nose. He visibly blanched as soon as he had smelled it.

“Make faces all you want, Sephiroth, but you are still going to eat it,” sighed the gunman. He was tempted to just force feed the man.

“Yes, Mother,” growled Sephiroth as he placed the mouthful of oatmeal into his mouth. He immediately gagged at the…well, he didn’t even know how to begin to describe it. It was bland and the texture made him want to spit it out, but he refrained from doing so. He immediately grabbed the orange juice to wash away the acrid taste. Ugh, the aftertaste was even worse.

“That bad, huh?” Commented Vincent as he noted Sephiroth’s reaction to the oatmeal. Sighing, he pushed off from the wall and walked over to the table. Using a spoon to measure, he scooped a few spoonfuls of brown sugar into the oatmeal and then mixed it thoroughly. Once he was finished, he stepped back and said, “There, try it now. It should taste better.”

Snorting, Sephiroth reluctantly swallowed another spoonful of the oatmeal. It tasted…better. The brown sugar seemed to bring out the flavor of the oatmeal without making it taste foul. Still, the texture was not something he agreed with, but it was edible. He would eat it this time, but he would be damned a thousand times before he ate this every single morning.

“That wasn’t so hard,” said the Turk with a slight mocking undertone to his voice.

Sephiroth glared at the dark-haired man and spat, “I don’t see you eating this shit.”

“I ate it when you were showering,” spoke Vincent as he picked up Sephiroth’s bowl and placed it in the sink. He didn’t seem at all bothered by the evil looks that the other man was shooting him with.

“Your taste buds must be dead.”

“Believe what you will,” said Vincent as he felt the desperate urge to smile. The General was being such a baby that he found it unbearably cute. “Now take your vitamins and finish your milk.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” mocked Sephiroth as he popped all seven of the vitamins into his mouth and easily swallowed them with milk. As much as he despised milk, he knew he had to drink it. That’s why he always chugged it down as if he were in a drinking contest. He used the last of the orange juice to rid himself of the sour taste of the white liquid. 

“Do you always swallow them all at once like that?” Inquired the intrigued Vincent. Watching the General swallow the white liquid brought dirty images to his mind. Images that he fought hard to push to the back of his mind.

Sephiroth leaned back in his chair and smirked at the Turk. “Oh, yes. Always. You of all people should know how good I am at swallowing.”

“…” The gunman coughed and looked away.

You are a fool, host.

Vincent ignored Chaos’ words even though they seemed to echo mercilessly in his head. The demon had been quiet since last night, yet he chose now to make his appearance. But why? The Turk still had trouble figuring out Chaos and his whims. Even though he was fully in control of himself and his body, Vincent could still be influenced by his demons.

“So boss man, what is on the agenda today?”

“Veld called me about forty minutes ago. You are not required to be anywhere or do anything except your mandatory four hours of training. However, tomorrow you need to receive your Mako injections, rest, and then be seen by a doctor. If you do not feel well enough to train tomorrow then you will be required to rest after the doctor’s appointment,” answered Vincent in a very businesslike fashion.

“…you’re kidding, right?”

“No, I kid you not, Sephiroth.”

Sephiroth abruptly stood up and started walking away without another word. He was pissed now.

“Where are you going?”

The General stopped and slowly turned around to face the man who had followed him. “You woke me up at this godforsaken hour for nothing? You must be joking.”

“This is the same time you wake up every day, Sephiroth. You must not break away from your daily routine,” explained the unsympathetic gunman.

Standing mere inches away from the Turk, Sephiroth leaned in closer, their noses almost touching. “Oh? My daily routine does not include you.”

Not the least bit fazed by the other man’s proximity, the Turk stated, “It does now.”

Staring at the vexing Turk, the General felt the strong impulse to touch him, to kiss him. Sephiroth raised his arm to cradle the back of Vincent’s skull as he tilted his head and leaned closer. His lips were about to touch Vincent’s when they were interrupted by the loud dinging of the doorbell. Both men instantly tore apart as if burned by fire.

The General then stalked towards his front door and ripped it open. He then snarled, “What do you want?!”

Standing on his doorstep was Sephiroth’s longtime friends Angeal Hewley and Genesis Rhapsodos.

Sounds like someone is on his period,” loudly whispered Genesis to the dark-haired Soldier. He didn’t seem particularly bothered by Sephiroth’s rude treatment of them. They were both well aware of how bitchy their commanding officer was in the morning.

“Oh, don’t mind him, Seph. May we come in?” Respectfully asked Angeal while he held an arm out to prevent Genesis from forcing his way into their friend’s house.

“Hn. If you insist. Keep that one on a leash, though,” replied Sephiroth as he gestured to the red-haired Soldier. He then turned away before Genesis could object and left the door open as he entered his living room. He realized with a start that the gunman was already there leaning against his usual spot. The General felt his skin heat up from the thought of what he had almost done mere minutes ago. He still wanted to do it, but knew that the moment had passed. That and his friends were present.

“I am not a dog! Where does he get off calling me a dog?” Loudly griped Genesis as he entered the living room with the dark-haired First.

Angeal sighed and patted the red-head on the back. “You kind of deserved it, friend.”

“Who is that?” Asked Genesis once he had spotted Vincent. He thought he had seen that man before, but couldn’t place where or why.

Sephiroth smirked. “My butler.”

“I am not your butler, Sephiroth,” corrected Vincent before he glanced at Sephiroth’s friends. The dark-haired one, Angeal, seemed fine enough, but it was the red-haired one, Genesis, that made him feel wary. Even Chaos growled at the sight of the flamboyant, fiery man.

As if sensing Vincent’s discomfort, Genesis snickered, “Then what are you?”

“I am Vincent Valentine and I a Turk. As for why I am here with your friend…well, he is in need of a caretaker since he cannot seem to take proper care of himself,” stated Vincent as if he were talking to a small, stupid child.

“Sounds like you’re baby-sitting him,” commented Angeal with a half-smile.

“A Turk? Why is a Turk taking care of a Soldier? That doesn’t make any sense. Angeal and I can take care of Sephiroth,” protested the red-haired Soldier. He wasn’t exactly comfortable with the concept of a Turk playing nursemaid for his friend. After all, Turks were backstabbing liars and weren’t meant to be trusted.

Angeal sighed, “Gen, I’m sure he knows what he’s doing. As much as I care about Seph, we can’t exactly provide him with the care he needs. We both have missions to complete. Remember? That’s why we’re here.”

“I still don’t like it, ‘Geal,” grumbled Genesis as he crossed his arms.

“What do you mean, ‘that’s why we’re here’?” Asked the General curiously as he strode over to Angeal.

“We’re going on a mission in 0800 hours, Seph. We just wanted to swing by and check on you before we go. It’s been rather busy and hectic lately since you’ve been out of commission, you know,” explained a very sympathetic Angeal.

Sephiroth nodded. Sometimes he was very glad he had Angeal as a friend. The man was very wise and gentle for someone as big as him. He was very good at pacifying the fiery Genesis. Sephiroth and Genesis would no doubt murder each other without Angeal around to intervene and pacify. “I’m sorry…”

Angeal then reached over and clasped Sephiroth by the shoulder. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. We can handle everything until you’re swinging back into action. We just want you to get better, so get better, okay? Take your time and don’t rush anything. If you need us, call and we’ll be there when we can.”

“Thank you, I will,” promised Sephiroth.

Genesis obviously had his own way of doing things. Focusing his pale blue gaze on the Turk, he threatened, “If anything happens to him while we’re gone, I’m holding you personally responsible. If you even harm one hair on Sephiroth’s head, I will make you beg for the Goddess’ mercy.”

Instead of offering a mocking, sarcastic reply, Vincent merely nodded and replied, “Fair enough.”

Satisfied, Genesis then turned to Sephiroth and regarded him carefully. “Don’t neglect yourself, Seph. And don’t forget to take your PMS pills, either.”

“Geal, do me a favor and get this one neutered already,” said Sephiroth as he pointed at the passionate, red-haired man.

“Seph, believe me, I would, but he’d become fat and lazy then,” laughed Angeal as he grabbed Genesis by the arm and dragged the protesting and swearing man out of the house.

Sephiroth shook his head as he turned around and regarded the Turk. The gunman was staring at him with his usual unreadable expression, of course.  “I think they liked you, Vincent.”

“It matters not to me whether they like me or not,” dismissed the Turk as he glanced out the window. He was still somewhat distracted by what had almost occurred earlier. Had Sephiroth meant to kiss him? It had seemed that way, but he couldn’t be sure of that now.

The General briskly walked over to the Turk until he was a hairsbreadth away from touching him. Leaning closer, he touched his nose to the Turk’s nose. “Does it matter to you if I like you or not?”

Vincent wanted to say no. Really, he did. He had planned on saying no, but his mouth had other plans. As if controlled by someone else, he murmured, “Yes.”

Sephiroth tilted his head slightly. “Do you like me?”

No. “Yes,” whispered Vincent as his mouth once again betrayed him.

Regarding the intoxicating man before him, Sephiroth felt as if he might drown in those smoldering, sinful red depths of the Turk’s eyes.


“I like you, too,” revealed the ex-General right before he closed in the distance to tentatively brush his lips against Vincent’s.



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