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): Bad language, Humor, Angst, Sexual Tension, Some M/M Yaoi, BDSM

 A/N: Thanks for the feedback, guys, and for reading! Also, since you're reading this fiction, and seem to like the Vincent/Sephiroth pairing, you should go check out Roaming_Firefly and Hakucho. They’re both very talented writers and I enjoy their fictions. They both inspired me to not only write FF7, but to write the Vin/Seph pairing. They also have accounts on

Roaming_Firely/Roaming Firefly- "Omake of an Unwritten Story", "Unnamed Story" (Both fictions on and

Hakucho/Hakucho-E-"FLYING HIGH", RISE OF THE SILVER PHOENIX FF7 (The first is available on and The second is only on for now)


[:+ + + + +:]


 CH04: The Truth


The young General didn’t blink even once while he stared at the older man. In a hard voice devoid of emotion, he denied, “I do not know of what you are referring to.”

Vincent didn’t dare back down. When he needed answers, he got them no matter what. He felt that the truth behind the mirrors was somehow significant. “Oh, I think you do.”

Sephiroth scoffed, “Think what you like, but you are still wrong.”

“I can stand here and interrogate you all day, Sephiroth,” said Vincent with the faintest of smiles. “However, I think you should know that I am a very, very patient man.”

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes, but found that he couldn’t hold the Turk’s intense gaze for very long. He eventually looked away and with lingering hesitance, he mumbled, “You will think I am crazy…”

“I do not believe that you are crazy. You are a very rational young man that has been through much in your short life,” assured Vincent as his gaze softened somewhat. Perhaps demanding an answer wasn’t the right way to go about this.

The green-eyed male then murmured something so low that the Turk failed to catch.

“Pardon? What did you say? I didn’t quite catch that.”

Sephiroth looked up from the ground and focused his feline gaze on the gunman. In a voice loud enough for Vincent to hear, he repeated, “I do not like the way I look.”

It was Vincent’s turn to narrow his crimson eyes since he didn’t believe that for even a second. “You are lying.”

“I am not lying. I have no use for lies,” rebuked the silver-haired as he raised his chin up in a defiant manner.

“You are a very beautiful man, Sephiroth. I find it hard to believe that you dislike your own appearance enough to get rid of mirrors.”

“Believe it, Valentine, because it is true. I am not normal. You know that, right? I am a freak, an experiment, an abomination. I am not like anyone else. I do not look like anyone else. Just look at me! Who has slits for pupils? Who else can endure things that should and does kill normal humans?” Bitterly snapped Sephiroth as he scowled in the way that brooding men always did when they were upset. It was obvious that Vincent had struck a nerve in the youth.

The gunman raised his gauntlet hand up in Sephiroth’s line of vision and slowly flexed his clawed fingers. “I do not wear this as a fashion accessory, Sephiroth. Do I really have to remind you about what I am and what has been done to me? If anyone is abnormal or a freak, it is me. Not you. You are special, Sephiroth. While it is true that you are different, that does not make it a bad thing.” And in the confined privacy of his mind, Vincent thought to himself, ‘You are Lucrecia’s son. Like your mother was in life, you are beautiful and intelligent. I hope you come to realize that someday.’

Sephiroth sighed in defeat. Shaking his head, he murmured quietly, “There’s something else.”

The Turk nodded once in encouragement.

Exhaling deeply, the General divulged, “When I look in the mirror, any mirror, I see a frightening woman. At least, I think it is a woman. I…do not like seeing her. Sometimes she talks, but I cannot hear what she says. If I pay close attention, I can read her lips, but I do not want to. I would rather not know what she has to say.”

Vincent would be lying if he said he wasn’t alarmed to hear such a thing, but he wasn’t entirely surprised by it. Sometimes stress caused hallucinations, or in some cases, it led to delusions. “What does this…woman look like?”

“A monster. I do not remember much of her face. I just know that she is not human,” answered the General as he closely watched Vincent as if trying to figure out what he was thinking.

“I see,” sighed Vincent as he absorbed the information. All it did was pose another question to emerge from out of his pale lips. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“In the laboratories…about two months ago, give or take. I usually catch glimpses of her after I have received my injections.”

The dark-haired Turk frowned upon hearing that information. It made him wonder what exactly those scientists were injecting Sephiroth with. Was it merely just Mako…or perhaps it was something else? That thought made the gunman shiver unpleasantly as he considered all of the possibilities. No wonder the kid was so traumatized; he was poked, prodded, dissected and treated like some poor lab rat.

“Am I insane, Vincent? Are you afraid of me now? I will understand if you wish to leave,” sighed the General as he turned away. He was used to people being intimidated and scared of him. Everyone always went away in the end and soon enough, the Turk would follow suit. Even though he was used to such a thing that barely affected him anymore, for some reason the thought of Vincent leaving him made his chest clench painfully in a foreign sort of way. What was this horrible feeling? He did not know nor did he particularly like it.

The gunman slowly approached the younger man with every intention of patting him on the shoulder in a gesture of comfort. Before his hand could reach the General’s shoulder, Sephiroth swiftly turned around and intercepted his hand. Holding the Turk’s wrist in a vice-like grip, he shook his head at Vincent. “I do not need your pity or your touch. Your touch…is like torture.”

The Turk said nothing as he watched the troubled man briskly stride out of the room. A familiar sorrow clenched excruciatingly in his chest, a sadness that he had always associated with the loss of Lucrecia. Yet somehow now…that pain had been replaced by her son.


[:+ + + + +:]


A few days had passed with little to no incident at all. Both General and Turk seemed to operate strictly on auto-pilot with little interaction. They rarely spoke to one another and when something was said, it was short, to the point, and lacked emotion. The two stubborn men even refused to meet each other’s eyes as if afraid it might ignite something unwanted or catastrophic.

Sephiroth was busy working on his sword work in his personal gym when the door opened without invitation. Grunting in annoyance at being interrupted, the swordsman whirled around to snap at the unwelcome, Turk intruder.

Instead of Vincent in the doorway, there stood the General’s closest friends, Angeal and Genesis.

As soon as the flamboyant redhead had caught his friend’s attention, he immediately strolled into the room as if he owned the place. Gesturing one hand to the General, he scoffed, “Goddess, Seph, do you ever sweat?”

The dark-haired First cast Sephiroth an apologetic look as he, too, entered the room. His entrance was more humble and respectful when compared to his red-haired friend’s. He sighed, “Sorry, Seph. Gen insisted on bothering you as soon as we returned, which was…oh, I’d say about roughly five minutes ago.”

“Do you ever knock?” Snapped Sephiroth to Genesis before he switched his attention to his taller comrade. Nodding his head in regards to his dark-haired First, he sighed, “I forgive you, Angeal. How was the mission?”

Before Angeal could answer, the feisty red-haired man sighed dramatically with a roll of his eyes. “It. Was. Boring. They didn’t even need us out there in the first place. What a waste of time! As soon as ‘Geal and I showed up, everyone started behaving. The only reason we didn’t return earlier was because Lazzy ordered us to remain in Wutai for three entire days! Just look at my hair, it looks horrible!”

Sephiroth blinked in disbelief. Horrible? He thought Genesis’ hair looked like it always did, but he knew better than to tell that to his First. The last thing he needed right now was a raging migraine from Genesis’ bitching.

Ignoring his exasperated friend, Angeal approached the General with concern clearly displayed on his handsome face. Laying a hand on Sephiroth’s shoulder, he asked, “How are you feeling, my friend?”

“I am fine,” mumbled the silver-haired man as he carefully sheathed his sword. As much as it irritated him to no end to have everyone pussy footing around him like he was some precious invalid, he couldn’t help feeling a bit overwhelmed by his friends’ concern for him. Unlike Shinra and his company, he knew Angeal and Genesis actually cared for his well being.

 “Has the Turk been behaving?” Inquired a smirking Genesis with an evil glint twinkling in his pale blue mischievous eyes. He was clearly over his bad hairdo as he remarked, “I thought I saw a love bite on his neck, Seph. I think he’s hiding a woman in your house…”

“There is no woman in my house, Genesis. Besides you, that is. You know as well as I do that Shinra monitors my house twenty-four hours a day. The only rooms without a camera happen to be my private quarters and bathroom,” rebuffed the General in a cold tone of voice as he turned to glare at his gaudy friend. The mere thought of Vincent fooling around with a woman, or anyone else for that matter, made him clench his fists tightly and narrow his eyes.

Genesis didn’t seem to be all the wiser as he walked around the room as if he might find something of interest. “Hm, that doesn’t mean he’s not sneaking out to mess around with miss thing…”

Hand falling from the General’s shoulder, Angeal silently regarded his green-eyed friend. He didn’t miss Sephiroth’s defensive body language or the way he changed as soon as Genesis had mentioned the Turk. Clearly something was going on, but what? He didn’t know, but wouldn’t say anything until he found out more. If nothing serious was going on between the General and the Turk, then he would definitely keep his mouth shut. He was never one to stir up trouble when there was no reason to. In fact, he was usually the one placating his friends whenever they were angry or fighting. 

Sephiroth lifted his chin up in that telltale sign that he was in disagreement with someone and knew that he was right and that they were wrong. “He is not sneaking around outside nor is he sneaking anyone inside. He is just doing his job which is more than I can say about certain others. Unlike you, he is a professional and actually takes his job seriously.”

“I never thought I would see the day that you, of all people, would defend a Turk,” gasped Genesis as he gawked at his irate friend.

Deciding to intervene before anything escalated beyond control, Angeal stood between his comrades and spoke in a calm, yet neutral manner meant to conciliate. “Sephiroth has a point, Gen. Just cool it, all right? If he says nothing is going on, then nothing is going on. He’s stressed as it is and doesn’t need unnecessary drama. We’re here to make sure he’s okay and to support him, remember?”

Arms crossed stubbornly over his chest, Genesis rolled his eyes once before he sighed. Gesturing his hand in a dismissive wave, he relented, “Fine, you’re right as always, ‘Geal. I’ll drop it for now, but I’m telling you, I know a love bite when I see one.”

Grateful for Angeal’s interference, Sephiroth inwardly sighed as he glanced around the barren, dull-looking room. He stopped dead when he spotted a camera in the upper right corner of the room. It was focused on them and had a tiny light steadily blinking red. Tearing his gaze away as if he hadn’t seen anything, he stared at the ground as he contemplated. He knew that the house was monitored and had been promised that his room and bathroom were off limits…but was it really? After all, he had been woken up in a strange room that had had a camera recording his every move. The very same room where he had met Vincent and

A gloved hand waved impatiently in Sephiroth’s line of vision. Genesis’ hand. He looked up from the ground and regarded his red-haired friend. “Yes?”

“You blacked out for a moment there,” slowly spoke the red-haired man with a hint of concern buried in his pale blue gaze. As boisterous and obnoxious as he was most of the time, there was actually a caring side of him that most rarely witnessed in him. Even though he envied Sephiroth because he so coveted the General’s legendary power and fame, Genesis still found that he cared for Sephiroth as a brother would.

Sephiroth nodded slowly as he stared at Genesis’ lips moving. From time to time, he would glance at Angeal when the taller man spoke, but nothing registered in his mind as his friends talked. He showed that he was paying attention by nodding every so often and offering non-committal sounds like ‘Hn,’ and ‘Mhm’.

The young General was too distracted by a certain picture that seemed engraved in his mind. All he could focus on were images of Vincent touching, kissing, and having sexual relations with someone else. It made him feel hot, red anger surge through his veins like liquid lightning; yet at the same time, he felt a revolting, freezing feeling that felt akin to cold needles pricking his hot skin. He was torn between the conflicting sensations to the point that he didn’t know whether to howl his rage or to wail his despair. 

On the outside, his cool, calm façade was unblemished by the conflicting emotions that seemed to threaten his very sanity. Years of enduring Hojo’s labs and training as the perfect Weapon had taught him how to control everything from his body language, his facial expressions, and even his tone of voice.

Despite what the Turk claimed, Sephiroth sometimes felt more machine than man. Only this time, he felt like neither.


[:+ + + + +:]


Leaning against the wall near the open door, the Turk was caught off guard. The young General had actually defended him against his own Soldier friends. He certainly hadn’t expected that. With a slight, wistful smile, he closed his eyes and thought, ‘You’re more like your mother then you know, Sephiroth.’

On the other hand, Vincent was very cross with that Genesis person for purposely goading Sephiroth on like that. Something about that red-haired man didn’t sit well for the Turk. It bothered him immensely that the redhead was fully aware of Sephiroth’s condition, yet still chose to harass him relentlessly. The gunman was sorely tempted to simply walk in and punch Genesis in the mouth; however, that was not how the Turk operated regardless of personal feelings. He knew Sephiroth was a big boy and could handle other people on his own without some older man like Vincent meddling in his affairs. It was clear to him that Lucrecia’s son was already bitter and frustrated by how people were constantly treating him; which meant that if Vincent chose to jump in and “rescue” him, the silver-haired youth would become irrationally irate.

The crimson clad Turk wasn’t particularly a nosy person by nature, but he was a trained Turk. It was his job to do whatever he was ordered to do; be it subterfuge, sabotage, reconnaissance, or assassination. Since his job now was to not only be Sephiroth’s bodyguard, but to be his caretaker, as well, he would do whatever was deemed necessary.

A silent sigh passed his dry, pale lips as he blinked his wine-colored orbs open. The past few days had been…well, uncomfortable and miserable were the only words he could think of to describe it. He found himself missing the interaction with Sephiroth and even the younger man’s infuriating bratty moments. There was also another part of himself that desperately missed and longed for the touching and intimacy that he had had, however briefly, with the other man. It then made him recall what Sephiroth had said to him a few days prior: ‘Your touch…is like torture.’

 If Vincent touching him was torture for Sephiroth, then Sephiroth not touching Vincent was indeed torture for the Turk. How ironic, in a sense that was.

The Turk didn’t even know when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, the young General had grown on him. He felt as if he had been stumbling without purpose or cause in the long dark for years on end only to come upon a startlingly ray of light. A beam of light that appeared in the form of Lucrecia’s beautiful son. If he was not damned before, Vincent was certain that he was damned now.


[:+ + + + +:]


Lights out in the dark chambers, the young General stood stock still against the wall of his room with his back flat against it. His head was turned just right so that he could stare out of the window without being seen. For several long minutes that seemed like hours, he waited quietly and patiently for the timed lamps to go out.

To conserve energy, (or in Shinra’s case, money) the lamps went out for ten minutes at a time every hour like clockwork. That didn’t necessarily mean that there was no security, though. There was always an enhanced Soldier or two outside patrolling the grounds for any signs of commotion or intruders.

As soon as the lights blinked off, the young General quietly opened his window and slipped out undetected. Even though he was an elite Soldier, stealth was something that had always come naturally to him. At one point in time, the Turks had expressed a keen interest in him, yet had been immediately denied since he had been specifically bred and trained for the S.O.L.D.I.E.R. program.

Steps nimble and light, he edged carefully on the ledge of his window. He waited until the patrolling Soldier passed before he leapt down to the ground with ease. Glancing around, he made sure the coast was clear before he continued his trek. Keeping in mind that he only had roughly eight minutes left, he maneuvered himself quickly, yet carefully on Shinra grounds.

Sephiroth felt an adrenaline rush race through him as he snuck into a garage that housed several motorcycles and other various military vehicles. As predicted, the lights were off, as well. He would have to be quick and make as little noise as possible.

Spotting a standard issue Shinra slate motorcycle, he immediately slid into the seat and gripped the throttle in a firm grip. It really wasn’t his type of bike, but it was nearly silent and the engine hummed quietly. It was convenient and would have to do for what he had planned.

In a matter of seconds, he had driven off the lot and sped into the road without incident. His lengthy metallic hair and leather black coat whipped behind him as the wind rushed around his body in a possessive caress. Gripping the throttle harder, he forced the bike to speed faster, but was ever mindful not to waste too much fuel. He had no such desire to have to walk the dreadfully long distance to his chosen destination.

Freedom... Was this what it felt like? Yes, yes, he remembered this freedom. He had felt this heightening, liberating feeling once before when he had gone AWOL with Vincent in tow to hunt down that madman Hojo.

Closing his intense eyes for a scarce moment, he relished in the rough, brittle cold feel of the icy wind stinging his face until it felt numb. His body felt powerful, yet weightless as he urged the bike to drive a little faster. As he sped down the darkened road alone, he felt as if his body had merged with the machine. He was no longer a man, but an extension of the machine that indiscriminately defied the asphalt road with little consequence.

At the notion of the word consequence, Sephiroth quickly blinked his eyes open. With a satisfied smile spread on his suddenly more youthful visage, he then focused his enhanced eyes on the dark road. Oh, he could definitely get used to this.


[:+ + + + +:]


Vincent was livid. No, livid wasn’t a strong enough word for it. Livid didn’t quite explain how he hastily paced back and forth, his boots almost literally burning holes through the black carpet of Sephiroth’s room as he silently fumed. His shaking hands sporadically clenched and unclenched as he tried his best to work through his white hot anger to clear his head. The only time he remembered feeling anywhere near this angry was pretty much any incident that had to do with Hojo. It was true that Hojo enraged him enough to hunt the man down to kill him, but Sephiroth…oh, that boy pissed him off in a different sort of way. The sort of way most people felt when someone they cared about ran off and did something stupid.

The Turk had woken up in the middle of the night for reasons he couldn’t quite fathom. Everything was deathly quiet, there were no alarms, and even the young General’s room was silent. Something, quite possibly his instincts, had relayed to him that something was wrong. Wide awake and alert, he had nimbly swept through the house in search of the problem. Finding nothing, he had started to pass by Sephiroth’s private quarters when something had occurred to him. Normally, he never trespassed into the youth’s room, but some feeling inside of his being insisted upon it. Giving into the hunch, he had stealthily crept into the room only to find an empty bed inside of an empty room. No Sephiroth.

Not finding the General anywhere in the house, Vincent had then resorted to calling the silver-haired man’s personal phone. It had rung a few times before going to voicemail, which told him that Sephiroth had his phone and had rejected the call.

It didn’t take long for Vincent to clear his head and to cool his smoldering emotions. Strangling Sephiroth would have to wait until later after he safely recovered the impudent boy. Once all of the anger, frustration, and anxiety had passed with the exhale of a deep breath, the Turk then abruptly stopped pacing.

What would he do now? Should he search the grounds for Sephiroth? Or maybe—ah! Yes, the General’s phone had a tracking chip in it, which made him shudder to think if Hojo had ever implanted a tracking chip in him and/or in Sephiroth. Quickly casting the latter thought aside, he settled on the idea about the chip in the phone. He could always trace it, but then he would have to run it by certain people and that was something he didn’t want to do. Alerting anyone of Sephiroth’s disappearance was one of the worst ideas that he could possibly come up with. It was probably what he should do, but he didn’t like the thought of what those people would do to Sephiroth if—

The window opened quietly as something clad in black leather with long metallic hair and glowing green eyes slipped nimbly into the dark room. The tall figure stood up to his full height and was about to turn and close the window when he realized he was not alone. Catching sight of the figure clad in red and black nearly froze his blood as the smile instantly died on his face. He had not sensed the silent Turk who presently stood as still and grounded as a statue. The General didn’t know what bothered him more; the fact that he hadn’t immediately sensed the Turk or the fact that said Turk was glaring murderously at him in barely restrained fury.

In a composed tone of voice, Sephiroth quietly inquired, “Vincent…what are you doing in my room?”

The Turk said nothing as his burning glare seemed to morph into frigid ice. If looks could indeed kill, the Silver General would have been dead a thousand times over, and painfully so.

Not in the mood to push a response from the silent man, Sephiroth moved to his closet to place a black leather bag on a shelf inside. The bag was fairly new and hadn’t been acquired until the very night of his unauthorized joyride. He was about to close the closet door when the Turk’s monotonous voice demanded icily, “Where have you been.”

Sephiroth turned and stared pointedly at him. He wanted to laugh, but the humor of it died before it could rumble up from his chest. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but something about Vincent’s aura was beginning to rub him the wrong way. “Out.”

Out? Out where?” Growled Vincent as he fearlessly advanced on the younger man. His ruby eyes glanced at the bag in the closet before he snapped them right back onto Sephiroth. Jerking his chin in the direction of the bag, he bluntly questioned, “What is in the bag? Where did you go? What did you do? Something could have happened, you idiot, and I would not have known where to look! What possessed you to sneak out at night and go wherever you went without alerting me or anyone else? You could have been killed—or worse.”

The General blinked dumbly for a few moments as he stared at the angry Turk. Vincent…was actually pissed! The only time he had seen Vincent this angry was when they had both found out that Hojo had duped them both. Regardless of that, the Turk had always been patient and calm around him no matter what he did or said to Vincent. Until now.

“Well? Are you going to answer me?”

Sephiroth’s green eyes focused back on Vincent as he regarded the angry man. He could have offered him all sorts of excuses for what he had done and for where he had gone, but he didn’t. The stoic General looked the Turk square in the eye and simply said, “Freedom.”

Freedom…?” Repeated Vincent as he tilted his head slightly in disbelief.

Sephiroth nodded curtly. “Yes, freedom. It’s quite simple, Vincent. I snuck out of my window in the dead of night and I stole a motorcycle and drove it several miles for the hell of it. I drove into town, parked the motorcycle and walked around the town as if I were one of the locals. I even went into their shops and perused what the shops had to offer. I then walked into a bar, ordered a drink, and even talked to random normal people. Why? Because I wanted to do it. And I did it.”

The dark-haired man felt like a fool as he stood there staring at the other man. Guilt welled up inside him as he finally realized just how isolated, entrapped, and lonely Sephiroth was and had always been. Just when he had finally found some sort of solace in someone, in Vincent, the Turk had turned him away. The General had responded in the only way he knew how: by withdrawing back into himself. That was probably why he had mostly kept to himself and avoided the Turk as much as possible. Did that mean that the youth was suffering? All signs pointed to yes, which only increased the staggering guilt that was beginning to suffocate Vincent.

Another thing bothered the Turk, though. Sephiroth’s hermit-like behavior hadn’t changed until his friends had returned from their mission. Had their visit affected him in some way? Surely being constantly treated like an invalid plus having everyone else’s lives thrust in his face all of the time wasn’t an enjoyable feeling at all. Perhaps that was why he had felt the need to sneak out to do whatever he wished. For all his power, grace, and intelligence, even someone as seemingly perfect as Sephiroth felt the desire to live.  

“I think we should reach some sort of truce, or, should I say, a compromise, if that works better for you. I will not tell Shinra or anyone else of what you did, but I expect something from you in return,” began Vincent as he held Sephiroth’s eyes with a level gaze.

Sephiroth stiffened somewhat as he asked very slowly, “And that would be…?”

“Here is my compromise: Whenever I intend to leave to go anywhere at all, I will inform you of when I will be departing, where I am going, and why I am going. I expect you to inform me whenever you plan to leave and to include where you are going, as well. I do not expect you to tell me why unless I ask or if it is something of significance. Does that sound fair?”

The General nodded slowly and if he had been any other person, he would have sighed in relief. He had expected something different from Vincent since no one ever compromised with him. Everyone always barked orders at him and treated him like some soulless robot.

“I apologize for speaking to you in the manner that I did. I was…” Started Vincent, but he couldn’t bring himself to finish his statement. He could feel emotion starting to well up inside of him, which was not something he wanted happening. The Turk knew from experience that emotion often led to people acting without clear judgment.

“You were worried,” finished Sephiroth for the Turk. He sounded just as surprised as Vincent did upon that realization.

Vincent nodded even though he normally wouldn’t have acknowledged such a thing. He felt that he owed Sephiroth something especially after what he had done and said. Guilt could be such a great motivator at times.

“Why do you care?” Asked the General after a lengthy pause of silence.

This time the Turk didn’t directly answer the other man as he stared at him in silence. How could he answer such a thing when he was still fighting himself over the fact that he did care. He did care. Vincent cared much more than he wanted to admit to. It was wrong to feel the way he did and it hard to fight the unwelcome fact that he almost desperately pined for the younger man.

You humans are such trivial creatures. You make things needlessly complicated for no reason at all. Host, I fail to see the reasoning behind your thoughts and actions. Your reluctance to act on your desires, your very instincts, baffles me. The only thing I agree with you on is that you are, indeed, a fool.’

Before the inky black-haired Turk could quickly dismiss Chaos, a part of him lingered on the demon’s frustrated words. It annoyed him to no end that he found a part of himself actually agreeing with the beast as the other demons remained silent. In spite of their silence, he could still feel them influencing him with their silent judgment. It irked him to the point that he desperately fought the urge to scream. He had to deny them, to deny himself, but most of all, he had to deny everything. Deny, deny, deny! That seemed to be part of his mantra as of late.

Sephiroth stepped closer to the Turk until they were nose to nose with their bodies nearly touching. He could feel the other man’s heat simmering against his body and was so very tempted to touch him, but he refrained from doing so. Tilting his head slightly to the side, he kept his slightly parted lips barely an inch away from the Turk’s. Staring into Vincent’s dazed eyes, he then repeated, “Why do you care?”

The sudden and unexpected proximity of the General startled the Turk. He swore he could hear his own heart hammering wildly in his chest while his skin grew hot and tight. Having Sephiroth this close to him felt akin to what a starved man might feel when finally faced with a delectable feast. The rapidly mounting urge to kiss him, to touch him, and to possess him entirely was more than his deprived being could bear. Vincent knew that if he didn’t force himself to leave now, he would undoubtedly use this alluring young man to slake his sinful lust. With that thought in mind, the stubborn Turk used every ounce of remaining will power to step back away from Sephiroth. He then hastily exited the room without another word or glance.

The green-eyed man felt some amusement as he watched the Turk leave so abruptly. He couldn’t deny the inkling of pleasure he felt from the feeling of getting underneath Vincent’s skin. It was as if they were both playing an unpredictable game that seemingly had no rules. A game that he felt he was starting to win. The stubborn Turk was a challenge, a difficult challenge that invigorated the General in a similar way he felt whenever he fought in battle. There were moments when he felt like giving up and just leaving everything as it were, but a stubborn part of him refused to stop.

Sephiroth couldn’t stop now. Not now that he knew without a doubt that the Turk desired him. Vincent’s mouth claimed one thing while his body language contradicted everything he said. The General had learned early on in life that a person’s body language was a more accurate indicator of the truth than anything spoken. Sephiroth had also noticed the racing pulse, the rise in temperature, the dilated ruby eyes, and the unmistakable smell of sexual arousal. Vincent could deny to himself and to Sephiroth everything that he felt, but he still could not control the truth. As smooth and controlled as the red-eyed man was, there were still some things even he couldn’t control.

With those thoughts buzzing around inside of his head, Sephiroth strode over to his closet and opened the bag. He fished a two and a half inch leather-bound book out from the bag and then seated himself comfortably on his bed before he opened the book. He then began to read with vigor, his unblinking green eyes devouring each page without mercy.


[:+ + + + +:]


Being the light sleeper that he was, the Turk was startled out of his sleep by the wet, yet warm feeling of something tickling his body. Trained to become fully awake in an instant, he was shocked to find himself on his back with a very naked Sephiroth trailing his hot mouth down his mostly revealed bare chest. Red eyes wide and alert, he immediately tried to move only to realize that his arms were restricted by something. Looking up, he noticed the thin, yet strong black cord that was attached to the metal headboard of the bed and tied around each of his wrists, effectively stretching each arm out. Whatever the rope was made out of, it was very strong, soft, and didn’t allow much movement at all.

Cautiously testing the strength of the cord, Vincent wasn’t the least bit surprised to find that it wouldn’t give. Brute strength wouldn’t release him from the strength of these ropes unless…no. No, he would not, and could not, summon the aid of his demons.

A long tongue dipped into his navel, which jerked the Turk out of his desperate thoughts. Looking down, he watched as the young General swirled his tongue in his navel as his hands actively worked at removing the rest of the Turk’s tiresome clothes. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant to him at all, but it did feel quite odd. He had never had anyone stick anything in his belly button before.

“Sephiroth…what are you doing?” Rasped Vincent as a strong hand ghosted over the forming bulge in his pants. The fleeting, light touches to his body caused him to grip the ropes in his hands and pull hard. His head lolled back, his black hair a tangled mess on his pillow. Squeezing his eyes shut, the ruby-eyed gunman could barely hold back the low moan that was caught in his throat.

The younger man said nothing in reply as he traced the tip of his tongue down past the Turk’s navel until he was mere inches from Vincent’s unzipped pants. Caressing the gunman’s pale left hip, he moved his mouth to the right and lovingly kissed the right hip. Sephiroth’s dilated eyes finally lifted from their work to look up at the bound Turk. The sight of Vincent tied up, half-naked, and aroused was a sight to behold. His work was cut out for him now and it excited him even more to know that he had barely just begun. Smirking like a cat that had just caught a mouse, the angelic-like youth purred, “You want to know what I am doing, Vincent? Well…that should be very obvious to someone like you. If not, then figure it out, Turk.”


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