Fan Fiction ❯ A Fortune's Smile ❯ Another Beginning ( One-Shot )

A/n: Ok ok so I don’t own FF7 either….. Square Enix does XP At least I tried ;_;

Not sure I liked the ending but I dunno if I’ll ever extend just because I don’t have a plot handy XP we’ll see…..

This is sorta done in response to MorganHlaalu’s challenge… heh sorta… I guess… sure, why the hell not?

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The silver morning light shone through the windows as the wind blew the curtains, making them billow out like gossamer hands reaching for his bed. I had been watching the man like a hawk for days. I’m sure most of the people that noticed me, for I was a little hard to miss, thought I was probably stalking him but if one of them started to say something, they usually stopped when I glared. Thanks to a certain spiky headed jerk, I had been temporarily out of service in North Crater when the AVALANCHE gang had knocked me out. All that light and smoke… well, that was just special effects. It generally happens when your soul is about to escape. Due to the fucked up composition of my body some stupid scientist -coughcoughHojocoughcough- did, my fragile skin was easily broken through with the holy powers imbued in my flesh from certain other mako influences, and that put me in really bad shape. But that wasn’t a cause for all the flashy show effects.

Want to know a secret? While I was lying listlessly to the side, wondering if they had strip clubs in heaven and watching Cloud disappear through the rough, buffeting winds, I failed to notice a gentle hand on my shoulder. When I did, I thought the angels were trying to roll me on a pathway down to hell, and when I saw the tender, brown eyes, I thought for sure I was doomed to smell brimstone forever. Her wavy long hair flowered down her shoulders but I saw it was pinned up behind her. I closed my eyes and saw the image of an underwater cavern. He was there, and beside him, a woman. She kneeled in an orb of light and before her he was wearing a somber smile. Opening my eyes again, I recognized her. It was my real mother, Lucrecia. I was only vaguely aware she was my mother though. I didn’t know her so well. Hojo, that bastard, wouldn’t even allow her near me. I never before had seen her in real life, only in a picture, but now I had seen her. I had scarcely believed she was my mother; from my readings it had appeared Jenova was my mother after all, but when I sanely thought about it, it made sense that Lucrecia had had me and that the one scripture I had read about her when I was looking for information in the ShinRa mansion library about Jenova was true. I felt her soft hands for the first time.

I realized the blinding light was her now, not me. She was almost the same as me, Jenova cells coursing through her body, not letting her die. Whatever I had encountered only moments ago was counteracting against eternal life. If I had been left alone, I would have died painfully, slowly. Blood had trickled down my face, which Mother wiped away.

“Sephiroth,” she whispered. I was surprised to hear her voice so pure and clean. “Dear son….. you cannot die. Not while I am here. I will not allow my son to die!” She seemed upset. I rolled my head to one side. Her cool hand was placed on my chest, over my heart. “Darling.” Slowly, my mother, clothed in white scientist robes, healed me, and I lay, resting, half conscious with my head in her lap.

“Sephiroth?” she quietly when it was over. I looked to her, only somewhat aware of what the hell was going on around me. The turbulent winds were dying down. “Vincent…… I last heard him in the cave where I resided. He…. He said you were…. Dead.” Lucrecia’s tear dripped onto my cheek. “I-I didn’t know what to believe. He stayed when the others left and talked to me. He knew I was still there.” The poor girl was on the verge of sobbing openly now.

“Vincent t-told me his plans. H-he told m-me he wanted to help save us. Bound for North Crater, we parted and determined……. I found you.” Her voice was soft; she was smiling.
“What do you want me to do about it? Happily reunite you two and play priest to marry you?” I asked, voice low and cracked. My chest was tight, binding that God forsaken life tightly inside of me. Lucrecia chuckled.

“No. I’ve resigned myself. I cannot repent enough for my sins. Please, find him, my son….. take care of him for me. I know he’s distraught. He loved me so much and I……I…..Hojo did such terrible things to him! I cannot forgive myself for doing that too him. Please….. please…..make him smile again for me.” She looked away, tears glistening in her eyes. Sitting up with a grunt, I looked at her. She looked too young to be my mother, but I suppose Jenova cells could do that to you. She’d get old and wrinkly eventually.

“Well….. I guess so,” I finally agreed. I felt kind of sorry for her. I hadn’t asked her to save me, but she had. I was looking forward to dying too. Well, almost. She smiled standing and watching me with that motherly expression she knew she didn’t deserve to give. I stood too, towering at least a foot and a half above her. With a bow of her head she turned to leave.

“Thank you Sephiroth….. my son,” she whispered over her shoulder, watching as I smirked in return.

The figure beneath the white satin sheets moved, moaning slightly as it rolled over on its stomach, stretched out, one arm thrown before it over a fluffy pillow. So here I was clinging like death to the dying on a storm pipe, the gutter just above my head, nice and new and shiny enough to see my handsome reflection in. One hand desperately clasped the pipe, the other clinging to the frame of the large plant I was hanging off of, the roses or whatever the hell they were, getting in my way and making me itchy through my clothes. I yawned. I had watched Vincent most of the night but I had purposefully fallen from the plant frame to get a little sleep. I had only wished the damn house wasn’t two stories tall. Through the window I saw Vincent rise, his back to me, long raven hair slightly ruffled. He was wearing no shirt, and from the back I could swear he was a woman. My knees began to buckle beneath me and I cursed them for their weakness. Clutching tightly to the side of ShinRa mansion, I watched in awe as Vincent stood, stretching before me, pale lean muscle almost enough to match my own.

Vincent had slept stark naked and I let out a low whistle. He was closing the widow across the room, opposite the window I was hanging on, on the adjacent wall, and I got a nice full view of his ass. He began to turn around when dammit all I was seeing now was a pallid grey sky and a dozen different chocobos chasing each other in circles. Shit, my back hurt. I heard the window above me open, very faintly, but I couldn’t see anything. I groaned the rest of the pain registering as I caught my breath again–it had been knocked out of me. Somewhere within my foggy clouded mind, I knew Vincent would probably find me, laying two stories under his window, flat on my back, dazed like the Chocobo Summon’s mog, gasping for breath–at least he would if he hadn’t already. Chances are he’d either not believe what he was seeing or he’d try to kill me again. My vision was spinning, and one half of the time I saw darkness, one half of the time I saw the sky, and the other half of the time I saw random shapes and colors. I was gonna have a cockatolis egg on the back of my head when I stood up, I just knew it!

I sat up, wavering, still unable to see, but my vision was clearing. One hand to my head, the other supporting me, I heard steps running toward me and quite suddenly I was being shaken violently by the shoulders. The jostling shook my vision and a diffracted image of a young man with red eyes and black glossy hair jumped up and down like Quake 3 was happening.
“Fo-or the lo-ove o-of Jen-o-ov-a, st-o-o-op!” I attempted to cry, but due to what felt like whiplash I don’t think it turned out that way. Turns out Vincent had been shouting something at the exact same time I had decided to open my mouth.

“What?” he asked voice low and soft, hands still on my shoulders.

“Stop shaking me dammit!” I replied, the world still spinning, and dancing before me, Vincent dancing along with the mansion behind him.

“What? I did!” I shook my head, letting my vision clear again for the second time in the last few minutes. I finally was able to look at Vincent properly for the first time, face to face since……forever….. if I even had looked at him properly face to face before. He was shirtless, I noticed, a pair of black jeans hastily put on, zipped only, the button completely forgotten. He was also flustered. I offered him a smirk.

“Sephiroth!?” he shouted, making me cringe. For crying out loud I wasn’t even a foot away from him and he was screaming at me like I had killed his favorite cat.

“Uh, yeah, that’s me?” I said, a little unsure, watching him through one eye, the other tightly shut in case he decided to shout again. He looked numbly at me, uncomprehending. He blinked. Looking to either side, I cocked an eyebrow at him and shrugged.

“What, no red carpet? No bouquets of roses? No, ‘Oh Sephiroth I missed you SOoo much!’?” I asked. Vincent fell back on his butt, hands behind him to catch his fall, still just staring at me. I looked oddly at him for a long second before I stood myself up, stretching my back and complaining about how sore it would be, one hand on my lower back like one of those geezers you see on TV who always walk over with a bent back and then they finally stand up straight and…. You know how it is, us old folk and our back problems.

“Geez do ya hafta stare? I mean gosh I’m gorgeous but heheh …. From the view I had from your window I’d say–”

“My window?” Vincent interrupted. He had a hardened look in his eyes now as he stood, dusting himself off.

“Well I didn’t just fall from the sky!” I replied, crossing my arms with a huff. Vincent stood, watching me warily, keeping his distance, his one arm hanging as if still infused with his claw, which I also noticed he wasn’t wearing at the moment. He sighed and shook his head, turning around and stumbling back towards the front door.

“I’m hallucinating I just know it! That or I just haven’t woken up yet, I’m still asleep, it’s just a dream. Ah these lonely years are beginning to have an effect on me!” he muttered, worrying out loud as he hugged himself with one arm, the other hand to his forehead.

“What?” I shouted, running to catch up with him which was a bad idea because fast movements not only made my head hurt but made me feel as if I were drunk. I caught up to Vincent, my head throbbing as I grabbed his shoulder. Quick as greased lightening he whirled around, slapping my hand away, and, might I add, it hurt. I would thank Holy later that he wasn’t wearing his claw. He looked at me a moment before shivering and turning away.

“Whatever,” Vincent shrugged. I followed him to the front door, cautiously keeping behind.

“Come in,” he hissed venomously, leaving the door open, so I followed him inside, closing the door courteously behind me.

I’d have to admit, they did a number on this old mansion for sure. You’d have thought you’d walked into the wrong house: roses growing on a frame against the side of the house, silky diaphanous curtains billowing in the breeze–that should tell you something was up! I wasn’t sure I was in ShinRa mansion at all. I stood, staring around at the beautifully furnished room, before checking to make sure it was the right house. I went back outside, stared at the house from the gate, decided it was at least where ShinRa mansion used to be, and went back inside. Vincent stood, fully clothed now with a black T-shirt and belt to compliment his now buttoned pants, but he looked cross, arms folded, looking distant, but somehow mean.

“Uh, just making sure I’m in the right house is all,” I explained without question. The place looked like it had when Vincent was back in the Turks, before I was born. Hojo kept a single photograph of Lucrecia standing where I was now, smiling sweetly, so that’s how I knew. At least the den area and foyer looked nearly the same as they did all that time ago, before the dawn of my existence. There was a huge rug spread out over a cherry wood polished floor, of some intricate floral design, leading to a staircase that had been completely redone. Two gracefully curved staircases led up to the landing with the smaller stairs that landed on the second floor and branched off to the other rooms, arching over an open door which led to a thin hallway branching to other areas of the house. Creamy white sponge textured wallpaper lined half way up the walls the other half was a vinyl siding type thing in a dark chestnut color. Following Vincent farther in as he walked soundlessly across the room, gliding, hips swaying slightly his steps were barely heard as we made our way up the stairs, my gloved hand sliding over the shiny banister.

As I looked around, I noticed the other rooms were just as well kept, vases and fine pictures adorning the rooms, several plants adding a relinquished ambiance, mirrors alternated with candles along side; it was like an normal, insanely expensive mansion owned by some rich man with fine taste for quality. Above us hung a crystal chandelier, glinting dully through the curtain laden windows. Vincent veered right through an open door into a small study area, leaving the door open behind us. Everything looked new. Looking around and sitting down at a glass table against the wall, I laid eyes on Vincent who stood by the black marble counter, books and papers aligned neatly or organized in stacks, a cup of freshly brewed coffee in one hand, eyes wearily scanning me. I smirked, elbows on the table as I cradled my head in my hands, Masamune clicking against the floor in its sheath.

“Soooo Vincent… tell me which bank you robbed to get a place like this,” I said, half for sake of conversation, half because I wanted an explanation. The mysteriously dark haired young man glared at me before tending to his coffee, contemplating what answer he would give. With a sigh he pulled a padded chair away from the glass table, sitting himself down with crossed legs before me.
I’d only been following Vincent around for about two weeks before he had actually discovered me, and it surprised me that he hadn’t thought he had a stalker the whole time. Setting the mug down with a ceramic clink, Vincent straightened up to look me in the eye, tilting his head slightly.

“Well, after we defeated you and Holy saved us from Meteor, we didn’t really have anywhere to go. Tifa and Cloud are here in Nibelheim too….. Since Hojo was killed, all his funding had to go somewhere. In his will he wanted it to go towards science and rebuilding his lab if someone could carry on the Jenova project, but Jenova is still in slumber so we even though the house was facilitated for the monster, Jenova hasn’t been captured.” Vincent paused thumb trailing over the edge of his cup.

“So?” I asked, pressing him for more information. “It was just on his funding? Is someone else living here?” He shook his head, glossy raven hair shuddering behind him.

“No. There was a written document found from….. from Lucrecia. Her will, you could say. She wanted to have the mansion habitable for me, and for you–if you could ever come back or find Nibelheim again. I told her you were dead but I don’t think believed me,” he finished blandly.

“Yeah, I know,” I said, staring out the study’s red velvet curtained window. The dimly lit room was silent. “So that’s how it got so fancy? Did you rebuild it or someone else? I mean, last I remember this place didn’t have two staircases or a flowers growing on the wall or anything.” Vincent mused.

“It’s not to my taste, but Lucrecia wanted me here. Some are my touches, like my bedroom, but the rest I let interior decorators design. I don’t use it that much but it’s livable,” he shrugged. I nodded.

“What about the laboratory and basement?” I inquired, leaning slightly forward, one hand on my chin, the other hand resting on the table, outstretched.

“It was rebuilt and cleaned up. The stairs leading down are made of steel now and have a railing. The ground is still dirt but walls were put up and whatnot to make it safe.” Vincent eyed me. “Now, you have some explaining to do.” I grinned.

“Whatcha wanna know?”

“Why are you here, what do you want; what are your plans, and how did you get here?” Vincent demanded, reeling of the list like he was going grocery shopping. I stared deeply into his dark red eyes, searching for something. Was he just curious? Was he happy to see me? Was he afraid?

“Well, I’m here because you invited me in, I’d like a cup of coffee I suppose, my plans are … well I don’t really have any, and I got here by walking,” I said finally, leaning back in the chair and crossing my arms once more.

Vincent was not amused.

“Well you asked!” I retorted with a shrug. Standing, Vincent poured a cup of coffee, the appliance plugged in and looking as if it belonged in a study room along with the four legged trey holding cups, sugar, and a carton of milk sitting in a bucket of ice; stirred in a spoonful of sugar, topped it with milk and thrust the cup at me, still slightly steaming. Grinning, I thanked him and took a long drink. It was the best thing I’d had in days.

“What have you been doing? How long have you been around and for God’s sake why were you outside my window while I slept?” he firmly asked, both hands on the table, staring me down like a hawk. I let my fingers slip through a lock on his hair, kissing it, its sweet scent faintly of ginger. His eyes narrowed.

“Well, I didn’t have anything better to do,” I said slowly, shrugging with a slight frown, “so I thought I’d keep you company. I’ve been following you around for…. probably two weeks now.”

“Two weeks?!”

“I’m sorry did I stutter?”

“And I didn’t notice?!”

“I guess not…”

“Good Lord, why the hell are you stalking me?!”

“Because you have a nice ass?” I offered. He was stunned. Slowly he sat down, sinking to the table, hair splayed like little black tendrils. I fingered a precious lock, smirking but feeling a little guilty.

Finally he looked up, head still lying on one arm on the table, eyes surveying me quietly, watching me in earnest.

“You’re different,” he said quietly. I shrugged. Yeah I thought so too, but then again most people misconstrued me anyway. Sure I had quite a deal before, but I blamed that on the internal changes, the stuff Jenova was doing to me. If it hadn’t have been for that Goddamned Hojo I would be nice and normal BUT NOOOO! “How are you still alive?”

“Heh funny story,” I replied, looking away.

“Tell me.”

“Well in a galaxy far far away….”

“C’mon Seph….”

“Well, after Cloud friggen tore me up I lay there wondering if there were strip clubs in heaven–” Vincent coughed, apparently holding back a laugh. “Well I was! Anyway… I was contemplating whether there were strip clubs in heaven or not–”

“I couldn’t see you at a strip club,” Vincent interrupted. I stared at him a moment, the bell finally taking its toll.

“So you don’t doubt I’d be in heaven?” I asked in all curiosity. Vincent shifted uncomfortably averting his gaze.

“It’s beside the point,” he muttered.

“OK! So I was halfway to heaven when an angel stopped me and told me I had to live, SO she saved me and healed me and when all that jazz was over I left and took forever to find your sorry ass because I had no idea in hell where you were and it damn well took long enough too!”

“It’s only been a year and a half since then,” Vincent commented, red eyes slowly blinking as he turned to look at me, closing his eyes as he drained his cup. Drinking my coffee as Vincent returned the mug to the sink and sitting back down, I finished my story.

“So I finally found you and have been following you around for a few weeks.”

“Why?”

“I told you, because you have a nice ass.” He rolled his eyes in disbelief.

“Honestly Sephiroth why?” I smirked and leaned across the table, inches from him. He had been leaning over too, but he didn’t even flinch. I was glad. For two weeks, I certainly had developed an attraction to him.

“Well….. I told someone I would.”

“Told them you’d stalk me?”

“Well, not exactly…”

“Then what?” He sounded slightly irritated now.

“Told them I’d make you smile.”

“Make me smile?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Mhmm…” I nodded in my hand, thankfull the table was relatively small. He searched my face for unwritten answers.

“Who was it?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t remember.”

“Yes you do.”

“How would you know?”

“Because you lie.”

“Do you think I lied when I said you had a nice ass?” Vincent was silent. I smirked; hand still on my chin, unconsciously wiggling a little closer. He backed up but I kept the distance between us to a mere inch. Doubt shone obscurely in his eyes, crimson staring into mako infused eyes, lips slightly parted without knowing. He looked away once more, slightly uncomfortably, I could tell. Allowing a grin to flit across my face, I turned his face gently back towards me. He leaned back and I stood to keep the distance thin, leaning all the way across the table. He stood his ground but backed down in his chair to where I couldn’t quite reach him.

“Is something wrong…Vincent?” I asked in a soft, almost dangerous voice, keeping my gaze locked with his, walking around the soft edged rectangular table to situate myself in front of him. He looked fearful, his speed failing him due to the unexpectedness of the situation.

Still attempting to control things in his favor, Vincent’s eyes narrowed and his shield was pulled up again, veiling his doubt, that cold glare once more in his eyes. My hands were on either side of the back of his chair, face drawing closer and closer by the second. I could imagine his heart pounding, his face flushed with a faint blush as he resisted.

“Vincent,” I purred, running a hand along his cheek, fingers brushing against his neck. His attitude was cool, but beneath it he was quivering and I was enjoying it like a predator standing over its prey. In one fluid motion I took him in, startling him enough to break his defense, bringing myself in close so he couldn’t protest. His arms were trapped, nowhere to go to push me back. I was now pretty much sitting in his lap, the hand that had trailed down his neck was tangled with ribbons of ebony hair, my hand slipping down his lower back and up his shirt. He squirmed beneath me but he was pinned, my mouth locked over his in a deep kiss, pushing my tongue into his mouth, dipping down and moaning slightly.

I opened his mouth up, pressing against him. Summoning his strength he was able to throw me off him, sideways. Dammit, he had to ruin the moment, didn’t he? Catching my balance and looking up at him with downcast eyes, I reveled in his flustered look. One arm to his mouth, standing and ready to kick ass if he had too, Vincent took a step back, eyes narrowing at me. He was blushing violently. I licked my lips.

“What? You’re looking at me like I did something wrong,” I said in offense. Vincent slowly lowered his arm and shook his head.

“What was that for?” he growled, voice slightly quavering. He swallowed hard to help steady himself. I shrugged.

“I don’t know, just ‘cause I felt like it?” I replied in all truth. In all honesty it felt odd myself, unsure of why I was feeling what I did. He was so handsome in all his glowering glory, his thin masculine frame, feminine in its own way, his long silky hair, he deep mesmerizing eyes. “You know,” I said softly, a hand out in a reflective gesture, “I bet you liked that.” Vincent scowled. Deep within his eyes I could see a flicker of something. Maybe it was a dark passion for what he craved: loved and attention. Maybe it was an angry glint that hinted at him throwing a chair at me. Maybe it was fear at the realization of what I was subconsciously offering. Or maybe he was just transforming into Chaos. Giant red wings ripped from his back with a sickening tearing sound, face remolding into a hardened, skull-like demonic face, sharp teeth and bright red eyes, glaring.

I gulped as his body twisted into a slightly stooped, gargoyle like body, horns laid back upon his head, dips of muscle converging with muscle in iron knots; flesh a steel grey in pallor. His shoulders shifted, thorn like horns certainly a sight to be reckoned with, as he stood up straight backed, growling viciously. I held my hands up to show I was helpless, which wasn’t entirely true, Masamune strapped to my waist and all, but I didn’t exactly want him to rip me limb for limb without me filling in Lucrecia’s last wish.

“Hey now, easy Vincent will ya? Do you really intend to destroy the house already? After it’s all nice and new?” I asked, taking several steps back towards the door. Chaos complied by moving the chair between us gently out of the way, crouched over and stalking, the room too small to house his massive wings which his tucked neatly at his sides. Taloned fingers scraped the the thin wine red carpet.

“Oh come on it’s just one kiss!” I cried in defense, offended that he was stalking me like I was the prey. I backed out of the room, wishing there was more to protect me as Vincent crawled stealthily forward, snorting wicked moist streams of hot air at me like one of Midgar’s trains. Turning tail with a yip I fled the room completely, slamming the door shut and bolting down the hall. At the smaller set of stairs that led to the landing in which I could use either set of stairs trailing off on both sides, I stopped to turn around.

Despite the fact Chaos wasn’t all that much larger than a man he had gotten stuck in the doorway, door flung open against the wall, the stopper just barely keeping the wooden pine door from denting the wall. Broad, horned shoulders with crimson wings flattened against his sides, Vincent had gotten stuck. I felt sorry for the guy but I was rather amused too. I figured if I provoked him I could get him out, probably at the cost of at least a new doorframe, but what would I do if he did get out of that tough spot? Then what would I do? Run for the rest of my life or let myself be savagely killed? Suppressing a laugh as Vincent growled, wiggling against the door frame, scrabbling at the polished wood, reaching for the rug that I stood on, I had one hand on the banister of the several steps that led down. He looked at me, snorted once more and roared, a blast of warm air reaching me as the vibrations shook my ear drums. He was almost through completely, the frame still intact, if only by chance. I took the time to leap down the steps nearly throwing myself head over heels over the railing along the top of the landing, throwing myself to the side farthest from Vincent’s boiling rage. With a smirk and a smart laugh to myself I began taking the steps two at a time, pausing before I did so to check his progress.

Chaos had broken free of the doorway, taking several steps on all fours forward, huffing, snorting and growling like a beast chasing its meal. I gulped and decided to take the stairs down. Vincent looked at me, sniffing like a horrible animal, reminding me more of his Galian Beast, if anything. He darted forward, one foot on the banister before he jumped, clearing the chandelier, just grazing it with his wing tips as he circled around to where I was headed with a flap of his leathery red wings. I was nearly at the end of the stairs when I faltered. I could run back but he’d have me a second flat, pinned against at least six different steps and that would hurt. I could run for him, hopefully surprising him and catching him off guard but chances were he’d catch me anyway and that would also hurt. Why were my only options full of pain? I took evasive action by jumping over the railing of the stairwell and vaulting over the side to–find myself sitting in a large clay vase. Well wasn’t his just peachy? Vincent roared a bemused laugh before heavily stepping towards me, wings flapping. Great I was caught, just like the child who snitched a lick of frosting of the cake. For crying out loud was it that big of a deal?! I sat, pouting, unamused and face drawn, as Chaos stuck one viciously clawed hand in the vase, pulling me up and out by the straps across my chest, his talons nicking me and drawing blood.

Carefully he lifted me into the air, wings flapping hard to keep him afloat in the dead air without upsetting the fragile pottery, throwing me to the side where I landed with an oof on my side, my shoulder protected by it’s guard. I looked up, rolling over in time to see Vincent take a bound for me, landing several feet away, and crouching down instead of standing formidably tall above me. Still snorting, mouth open, Chaos advanced, grabbing my ankle as I attempted to shuffle backwards on my butt, apparently to no avail since he had me in his clutches. Nose wrinkled in disdain, I gave up and lay quietly as the winged demon crawled over me, pinning me and making sure I wouldn’t go anywhere. His warm airy breath surprisingly was just that–air, not like those monsters and demons who you’d expect them to smell like rotting flesh or decomposed innards; it wasn’t exactly mint fresh but I was still able to breathe. His taut dark grey flesh felt rubbery against my bare chest, his hands in an iron grip around my arms, almost causing the blood to cease from flowing. I looked up at him, attitude rather cool and calmed in the fact that regardless of what I said or did, I was as good as dead. Somehow I doubted I would live if Vincent decided to decapitate me.

I sighed as he bore down upon me, shoulders hunched, head bowed over mine, glowing eyes alive like embers just been fed. His wings flared out behind him like a cape. I looked to either side as if expecting something to happen.

“Well… what now?” I asked. It wasn’t in a displeasing sort of way, nor was it in a mocking way. It was just a question. Unfortunately Vincent took it the wrong way, squeezing his already painful grip and causing me to grit my teeth against the pain. “I mean, yeah I’m beautiful and all but if you want me this bad you don’t hafta ask for it like this,” I gasped as he pressed a knee against my chest, snorting once more and squeezing the breath out of me. “If you want to kill me… just do it but at least guess who I told I would make you smile, okay?” Vincent wasn’t buying the bait. Of course something inside that abnormally deformed skull of his was keeping him from killing me so I gave him a little credit. His weight was too much to throw or I’d have done that by now, just to elongate the fight. He slowly applied more pressure to my ribcage.

“I don’t think she’d appreciate you doing this to her only son,” I wheezed in a strangled voice. His ears perked and the demon stopped.

I coughed, achieving a stinging pain through my chest. Chaos let up slightly but not completely. He didn’t trust me.

“Okay, I take back what I said about you not nearly being as beautiful as me, now will ya either guess who it was or let me up already?” I asked with an almost pleading look in my eyes. Vincent looked simply down at me, his demon face filled with perplexity. A glint of knowingness shone dully in his eyes, as if he didn’t quite believe what I was intimating. He seemed to know though and thank the Heavens he began slowly to transform back. In anguish he sat atop me, perched as if in a kinky display of passion which, upon the thought I had to smirk at. His eyes were wide, almost fearful, distant at the knowledge in which I held from him. And yet, he knew. I nodded, struggling to sit up, Vincent resigned to whatever torture was going through his head, sitting before me, hands on the ground, devastated. I put my hands on his shoulders in a sort of reassuring sort of way.

“Who?” he nearly whispered, voice still hinting oppression.

“You know….”

“Tell me.” He looked up, eyes wild, still quixotic, one hand afraid to reach out for me, I supposed to place on my shoulder.

“Mother.”

“Lucrecia?” he whispered, horrified yet in a bittersweet loving manner. I nodded.

“Is she alive?” I pondered the gravity of his question.

“Yes and no?” I tried. Vincent remained silent, questioning. “Can we get off the floor?” Vincent looked down, then back up, closing his mouth before standing, brushing my hands off and turning around, hugging himself, distancing himself from me with several steps. Silently Vincent took the open doorway sandwiched between the two stair cases, looking over his shoulder as I stood with a grunt, rubbing my hurt shoulder beneath its armor, as I trailed loosely behind him. We took another right down the narrow hall, harvest wall paper with that same vinyl like siding half way up, adorned the walls. Glancing the other way I noticed another that stood open, the door pulled into the room to reveal a water color painting on the floor from the stained glass window, Victorian style windows ornately lining the walls, a bulbous cutout in the side of the house, which I had checked out previously, was room made for the iron work white table, draped with lace, the matching iron work chairs placed delicately around it as if it were made for an out time tea party. I couldn’t see it but I knew a grand piano was on the other side of the room, out of sight.

The kitchen didn’t even have a door frame, but it led off to a pantry which was covered by a pine door similar to the one upstairs. Vincent stood opening the window above the sink to let in fresh air. Cabinets lined the walls above the pale yellow cream colored counter tops, an alcohol cabinet off to the right had racks with lines of a dozen of so different wines along the wall, a fold out table was currently up where drinks where mixed and served, below that in the cabinet itself, I’m sure, were bottles of whiskey, gin, brandy, rum, vodka, and probably some of the Turtle Paradise’s special mix, as rich as the bastard was, along with Holy only knows what.

“Is she still alive?” Vincent demanded once again, arms crossed as he stood tall, the sinks to his back; streaks of hair in his face.

“I told you, yes and no,” I replied, leaning myself against the opposite wall next to the door, a picture of something above my head, ready to run again if worst came to worst. I suppose I could draw Masamune if I had time, but I wasn’t going to fight when Vincent was at a disadvantage, and I wasn’t going to kill the guy…… unless I made him smile first and then he attacked again.

“Kindly explain.”

“I don’t like that tone in your voice,” I said, looking at my nails which were covered with my black leather glove.

“Please?”

“Nice try but you still sound like you’d get the answer from me then kill me.”

“………” I looked to the man with lowered eyes, unamused, as he stood in silence. He stared me down as I took a look around the kitchen. Lavender wall paper with patterns of tiny flowers lit the room with an inviting atmosphere, appliances placed as they should. The room had enough space to walk around but was furnished with regular cooking things and a place to eat, despite its size. Vincent sighed, slouching forward slightly, allowing himself to relax as he took a seat at the table, one arm hanging over the back, eyeing me before saying, “Alright. I don’t completely trust you, but I trust you enough not to kill me. Sephiroth, please explain. What about Lucrecia?” I grinned, unfolding my arms and wandering towards the table to sit down.

“That’s better,” I said. “Well, when I was left to die, Lucrecia came. She told me she didn’t believe what you said about me being dead, so she decided to look for me on her own. Well guess what? She found me.”

“Lucrecia….. found you?”

“Yep. She saved me; healed me and all that. I have felt settled down since then, now that ya mention it. You said I seemed different?”

“Yes. You are.”

“Heh. My guess is just as good as yours why I feel so laid back. I think it was because she seemed so complacent and loving even though I had gone through that mental fit. I guess…. You could say….. it was my first taste of…….” I trailed off. Vincent allowed me to pause but pressed on when I didn’t finish my sentence.

“Of?”

“As cliché as it sounds,” I chuckled, mildly entertained, “…. Of love.” Vincent watched me stolidly, slightly frowning but otherwise unreadable. I cocked an eyebrow at him.

“She…. She….”

“She….. sheep?”

“…….” Vincent sat with one hand to his hand, closing his eyes and reopening them to look passionately, sadly.

“She ….. wants me to smile?” he asked weakly.

I kept grinning.

“Yep.”

“She wants you to make me smile?” My broad smile widened.

“That’s my job.” Horror flashed across his face, his already pale skin a shade whiter.

“She….. couldn’t see me?” He seemed stricken but all I could do was shrug. She had found me but she still didn’t really want to have anything to do with Vincent. He looked grieved. I drummed my fingers on the table top, patiently waiting. The black haired man stood up, arms still hugging himself, looking more as if his stomach were upset.

“Excuse me,” he murmured, walking swiftly out of the room.

“Uh sure,” I replied, unsure of myself as I twisted in the chair to watch him leave the room and turn out into the foyer. Searching the room as if shadow ninjas were lurking in every nook and cranny, waiting for me to turn my back before they leapt, I decided the coast was clear, counting to ten to give him enough time to make sure I wasn’t following him without me completely losing him; I gave up on three, and stood, creeping out of the room. I heard soft, nearly inaudible steps above me and I knew he was climbing the stairs. Wondering if maybe he was retrieving our coffee cups but just wanting a little time to himself, my idea turned to dust when I heard him reach the rug and turn left. Of course I couldn’t tell where he was until he reached another small set of steps leading upward towards, if memory served, to several rooms, one including his bedroom.

Straining my ears, I heard the click of a door shutting. Swiftly, yet silently in case Vincent was either listening or coming to return unexpectedly, I glided up the stairs, all three sets of them which included two small sets, now standing in front three separate doors, one in front, one to the right and one to the left. I checked the knob on the left, remembering how close his room was to the front of the house and safely assuming he wasn’t in the other two rooms. I eased the door carefully open, all scrutiny given to the meticulousness in which I attempted to pay attention to, succeeded in all my valor to my expectations. Vincent was thrown across his bed, his elegant form lying listlessly, face down on a pillow. His red satin comforter was thrown back, revealing the accompanying white sheets which fit him so perfectly. The carpet was a soft pinkish purple pallor, a book case against one wall just as I had seen it hours ago with scraps of paper and pens. The four poster bed’s headboard held stalks of candles and two candelabras which I knew he used at night to read or just lay about.

I heard him gasp from the pillow, looking up from resting on his elbows and whirling around, apparently sensing my presence. I held a slight smirk, but it was replaced with what I might call a worried grimace. A tear rolled down his cheek. He tried to calm himself with a deep breath but only managed to look even more pained.

“Heh.” I walked toward his bed, sitting down beside his girlish form. He sat erect, back stiff and he moved away from me, looking out the window I had stalked him from. One hand on the bed, I leaned toward him, my other hand out, wanting to comfort him. He brought his knees to his chest, hugging them; chin resting there as he looked forward empty. I paused a moment in thought before something struck me. Something I was hoping would work. I stood momentarily, shrugging off my coat, shedding Masamune, the straps across my chest, my gloves, and my boots, free at last to feel nearly naked and comfortable. Vincent had looked up, arms folded across his knees, watching me silently and probably wondering what in Jenova’s name was I doing?! I couldn’t say it was really much of a strip tease, but it wasn’t meant to be. I ran a hand over my chest, wincing where Vincent had accidentally sliced my earlier, most of the blood dry. I made for the bed, ignoring my wound.
“Don’t come near me,” he hissed eyes ablaze with fury.

“Ah, don’t worry, even if I get blood on something, it’ll compliment your satin bed spread perfectly,” I reassured, crawling on the bed, crouched over Vincent as he remained sitting where he was. I smiled, but it was more pleasant than sadistic. “You said Lucrecia’s will had said she wanted me to stay here?” I grinned that foxy grin once more. Again Vincent’s pallid face turned another shade whiter, his skin like that of a fair maiden’s if not a snow hare’s in color.

“Y-yes,” he stuttered. Slyly I took his chin with my hand. His eyes had that look to kill. With my forehead against his, I wanted to kiss him once more, feel him in my arms. But I wanted him to want me, not struggle and fight for his life against me. I removed the hand he had placed firmly on my shoulder, lacing my fingers with his, smiling as he stared numbly at me. His free hand sought to displace me but to no avail; I caught his hand with mine and pushed him down with a soft chuckle. For a long moment he struggled against me, trying to push me off or roll over on me or kick me in places I didn’t deserve to be kicked, which I admit, he was pretty strong. Still, I persevered, successfully keeping him pinned.

“What do you want?” he snarled, eyes ablaze with fury.

“You,” I answered, nearly a whisper. I could see him swallow, blushing slightly.

“Why?” he asked, a little more controlled this time. He was so beautiful, hair splashed against the white pillow in a sharp contrast, red eyes about as soft as a brick wall, but not nearly as sharp as they had been, pale skin the lightest, most delicate peach color you could ask for. I was mesmerized, drunk by his beauty, and even if I didn’t understand why I wanted him, I didn’t want to think about it. I had been driven by lust before, but I had never wanted a person like this before. The sight of him took my breath away. He blinked, blushing faintly as I merely continued to stare in a curious sort of way at him.

“Sephiroth?” he mumbled, squirming against me. I wasn’t even an inch from his porcelain face, eyes glinting with interest and intrigue. I wasn’t sure what I should do. I could take him again. Oh yes, and never let go. But if I did, would I scare him? Would I fail my mother and his lover’s wish if I did scare him and he never let me get close again? I glanced down, between the two of us and sat up, noticing the blood trickling down my chest from my cut. I pressed my fingers against the cut, recoiling slightly from the pain. My fingers were stained red. Vincent was relaxed, hands where I had left them, staring awkwardly at the cut, at my fingers, crimson with blood.

“What, no sorry?” I asked. Vincent only closed his eyes. I licked the blood from my fingers and experimentally, I clutched Vincent’s hands with mine, fingers woven together my grip loose. He looked at me with penetrating red eyes that only turned me on. Growling playfully and lowering my face back to his, Vincent merely looked away, resigned to whatever fate had to offer him. I shifted my position, never letting go of his hands, now sitting between his legs, his thighs on either side of me. He swallowed, still looking away, worrying as I huskily pressed my now prominent erection against his crotch. He blushed deeply, tensing up without even meaning to. His life was gone; past, and it mattered not what happened anymore. That, at least, is what I sensed from his somber aura which permeated the room as if it were an open fire, stoked and letting all its smoke be released at once. Eyes clouded with lust, I rubbed one tingling hand against the palm of his, running my thumb over his fingers once.

“This is what you do to me,” I said in a low voice, close to a whisper, allowing my other hand to gently guide his face towards mine, lingering along the side of his face. Softly, I caressed his cheek, letting my hand trail slowly down his elegant neck. Again he swallowed, saying nothing but looking as if he might cry again.

I couldn’t let myself get too wrapped up in my own needs and wants, but it was hard to battle back the rising urges. Breathing deeply, I tore myself away. What was going on? What was I thinking? How could I do something like that? I wondered if this was another part of Jenova’s cells or not. I sat up, slightly trembling. My arousal was dying, but uncomfortably so. I stood stiffly.

“Yo Vin, ya got a bathroom somewhere?” I asked, back to the man who still lay crushed upon the bed. When he didn’t reply I turned to see him staring blankly at the ceiling. “Vincent?” He turned to look at me, eyes distant, opening his mouth but no words came out. He was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling gently and he just looked at me.

“Nevermind.” I went to look for a bathroom myself. Standing outside Vincent’s door I tried the door that faced the thin hallway leading to the stairs. Nope. Greenroom wasn’t it. What’s behind door number 2? Hah! A bathroom! It was nice looking, like all the rooms, and as an added feature, the large round bathroom was like a miniature pool, about the size of a Jacuzzi with jet stream action even! The tiled floor was cold on my feet and the light pink–guess what!–floral with purple and yellow flowers matched the pink towels nicely.

To my right was a long cabinet with a wide mirror above it which I promptly looked in, admiring myself a moment, heheheh and even the fact that I was still most hard. I located a soft wash cloth, soaking it with warm water and wringing it dry before mopping up the mostly dried blood. Upon closer inspection, I found the wound wasn’t all that deep, but it might leave a thin scar. I rummaged in the cabinets look for a band aid or gauze of some sort. I luckily located a box of heavy duty band aids which I plucked one from the box, sticking it to my chest. That’s when I finally noticed Vincent standing in the doorway, hanging off the frame for dear life, eyes still distant, a cloudy look of something resembling lust in them.

“Er… hello?” I greeted, closing the white cabinet door. Vincent stumbled in, brushing past me and catching himself on the sink.

“Sephiroth…” he breathed.

“Er yeah?” I asked, turning around to face him.

“Please…..”

“Yeeees?” I was curious now, wondering if maybe Vincent did want something from me after all. My pants twitched upon this reckoning as I scanned his body, noticed my companion’s pants were just as tight. I smirked.

“Leave.” My smirk fell.

Shrugging and knowing the longer Vincent could taste me but couldn’t have me, the more he’d want me, I left the room, wandering back across the hall into Vincent’s room to pick up my clothes, which I just threw back on the floor. I flopped down on the bed, wrapping myself in the slick, cool satin sheets and awaiting Vincent’s return. I have no idea how long it had been but I was growing impatient. Chances are it was only half an hour but still! I jumped out of bed and decided I’d explore the rest of the house until Vincent decided to find me. I knew several of the rooms; his bed room, the green room, the bathroom, the kitchen, the study, the living room/lounge area and the foyer. If memory served from coming back here to study oh-so-long ago to study there were four other rooms plus the laboratory to see what had changed. Crossing the length of the hall towards the study I went inside, veered to the right, through a door to another room which appeared to be a work room or office of some sort with a comfortable couch which I tested, a heavy oak desk with several drawers and a accompanying chair, a book shelf which sat low against the wall, a rack above it holding various office appliances as well as paper work, and a thick green plush carpet below my feet which felt very soft indeed.

Peeking into the next room over I found a bedroom which lead to the laboratory through the brick work. It appeared to be guest quarters, with a large queen sized bed, dark green spread covered with an assortment of pillows. Another book shelf, a chest of drawers, a night stand and a picture on the wall were about all that was there. I was tempted to visit the library but decided against it; the memories might be too painful. Returning to the long hallway, humming to myself, I made my way downstairs, sliding down the banister and landing on both feet at the end. I took a long look around and the cavernous room, filled with light as the afternoon began to fade slowly; it would dissolve in a few long hours. To the left I checked out the dining room, with dark pink and red wall paper, matching carpet, long mahogany dining table surround by chairs, an antique case full of good china, a wicker stand with a plant on it, veiled windows, and a few other random pictures. Towards the front of the room and to the left the stupid door was locked. Directly across from that, near the front door was an open space, no door at all but just a room that connected to the foyer as if it was unsure whether it wanted to be an enclosed area or not.

There was a scoop out window that had helped me climb up to watch Vincent sleep that morning. It was padded with a squishy green fabric, matching velvet curtains to either side which, if drawn, could easily hide someone or something. It seemed a little redundant to also have blinds, but I supposed that was if you wanted to do something romantic and didn’t want someone to watch you. There was a comfy green arm chair to the left, by another window, opposing another book case filled with books, pictures, a few odds and ends. The mint green carpet was also plush. So the house was big, well furnished, well maintained and kempt which basically meant–boring. I crossed my arms, disappointed that were no other kind of secrets or anything that would keep my occupied. Deciding to head back upstairs and wait in Vincent’s room, I heard a click behind me before I perceived what was happening. Vincent was across the room, opening the locked door with a key, and also, which quickly grabbed my attention, shirtless. Grinning slyly I waited until he glanced over his shoulder, looking straight at me as if he had known I was there all along before slipping into the room, to creep across the foyer and join him.

This had to be the coolest room in the entire mansion. No wonder it was locked. Thick black velvet curtains were drawn closed across a single window, walls painted a menagerie of blacks, as if someone couldn’t decide which shade they liked. A chest stood before a large circular couch like thing, containing Vincent only knew what. Vincent was finished lighting a single candelabra which stood tall and proudly in a corner, housing several melted candles. Vincent stepped into the circular bed and slipped into it, a mass of covers and pillows. It was something like a couch with a bed in the middle. Its back was high enough to lean against comfortably on the red plush couch, but in the middle it was furnished like a bed, with red sheets and a red spread that nearly matched the color of the wine red carpet. Mist fountains spewed from three of the corners, obscuring the floor. The only other light was from several fixtures along the wall which were glowing a faint red, enough to see very vaguely by. I closed the door, a little awestruck as I took everything in, approaching the bed area to find Vincent splayed before me, one finger at the corner of his mouth, the other on his chest, legs seductively placed and just beckoning. It was my turn to gulp.

“Vincent?”

He looked at me eyes narrowed slightly, lips parted delicately.

“Sephiroth,” he breathed as I leaned over the back of the couch, his one finger playing with a peaked nipple. He was turning me back on and damn I didn’t need any convincing this time. His eyes drew me nearer in the flickering light. Not quite as graceful as he, I climbed over the back of the couch, crouching over on the, what I found out to be, waterbed, close to Vincent. He looked at me with a sort of dignified lust which prompted me to near him closer. I crawled between his legs, hands on either side of him as the bed gently rocked beneath us. He opened his mouth, reaching up to cup a hand around the back of my head, his other hand trailing from his pallid chest to rest gently on my shoulders. He looked passionately at me, interest filling those deep red eyes of his.

“Sephiroth?” he asked.

“Yes?” He was silent a moment, unsure of what to say as my eyes gazed over his lean figure. I noticed a narrow white scar snaked its way from mid stomach to about the center of his chest. I traced its straight pattern with a finger. Vincent took my hand, his cool fingers covering mine and stopping my actions. I looked at him lazily, enjoying myself, a smile dashed across my face.

Vincent let go, his hand still on my shoulder.

“Sephiroth,” he breathed again, a little needier sounding.

“Yes?” I answered again, leaning deeply against him. My painfully tight pants pressed harshly against his and I heard a hitch in his breath. He searched lasciviously in my own wide eyes and I couldn’t help rolling my hips against him, making him gasp slightly and twitch. He was full on and there was nothing he could do to satisfy it. Not unless I was in the picture.

“You want me?” I whispered, finding my voice. He nodded and I complied, hesitantly kissing him, making sure he wouldn’t back down before I wrapped my arms tightly around his frame. I dipped into the kiss, suckling on his tongue as he moaned, allowing his tongue to dart into my mouth once more; lavishing each other in lust inducing enticements. Finally I drew back slightly to breathe Vincent giving me that look that I could tell meant his head was reeling with emotions and desires. Smiling, I attended to his neck which he offered to me obligingly, his hand on my head as I pressed my body against his rolling my hips and rocking against him receiving soft moans as he squirmed underneath me, legs and stomach tensing and relaxing.

He swallowed through his lustful moans and pants as I let one hand roam to his thigh, the other sneaking towards his pants line. I continued to nip, lick and kiss my way along Vincent’s collarbone and down to his chest, particular to the way he writhed beneath me as I took a perked rosy nipple between my teeth. His whimper turned into a loud moan as I felt his hard erection. He threw his head back, feet attempting to find ground as he bucked, both hands clutching my head as I pressed my hand against his bare flesh. I had worked unnoticed into his pants where I found my lengthily award. His mouth open in a silent scream, panting hard, and eyes shut, he worked against my hand as my fingers grazed his throbbing, heated skin. Pausing long enough to undo his zipper and rip his pants off, I left him panting, heart pounding as a sadistic idea entered my head. His look of protest nearly sent me back as I began to get up, starting to step over the couch. He sat up, catching my leg and looking at me pleadingly.

“Sephiroth,” he moaned. I looked at him. “Don’t leave.” I nearly laughed.

“Babe, I pulled my pants down, “does this erection look like it’s gonna leave you?” His breath caught as he stared, hugging up my leg with both arms like a stripper’s dancing pole, moaning as he rubbed my thigh wantonly with one hand. “Let go a minute.” With slight difficulty I shook him off, removing my last article of clothing and looking around, my eyes squinting through the dark room.

I located the curtains and, beside them on a shelf filled with knick knacks and a few things that looked very kinky, I found the ties that held the curtains back. Grinning, I picked up one long woven chord and figured it could work. I came back to Vincent as he sat watching me and hungrily drawing me into his arms, tongue against my navel. I tangled my fingers in his hair, wanting so bad to push his head down a little farther, a littler farther, but I managed not to and instead pushed Vincent back against the bead, water below us settling. Crawling atop him and distracting him with a kiss, I found his hands, having to use both my hands as I pinned them, wrists crossed, above his head. He moaned in my mouth, legs rubbing against my side and beckoning me to take him. I somehow managed to knot his hand together, bound by the corner. As I pulled out of the kiss, saliva trailing between our tongues, he looked at me, slightly confused as to my intentions. I grinned wickedly. Palming him and he shuddered pleasantly, hands jerking and finding they were indeed tied tightly. I took my time as I kissed down his belly slowly, hands clutching his hips firmly as I traced my tongue down his scar, dipping into his navel and down further, exhaling gently against the head of length, ignoring the pre cum that was trickling in a gentle stream down to his thighs and instead placing kisses along the inside of his thighs.

Tied and pinned down, all he could do was tense against me when I finally allowed my tongue to flick out across the tip of his head, he breathing in deeply, stomach muscles visibly flexing. He moaned, arms trying to find a way to free themselves as I took mercy on him, enveloping his length with my mouth, lapping at his heated skin, suckling gently at first, then more feverishly I went down on him.

“Ahhh… oooh Sephy….. Sephiroth,” he groaned heatedly, voice thick with lust, writhing as I allowed him to ride into me with rhythm. He whined, watching me through heavy lashes as my tongue ran along the sides of his erection, steadily milking him until he was nearly pushed over. I let myself withdraw when I felt he was close, closing my lips a last time around his head and licking the rest of his sweet essence clean.

“Sephiroth,” he panted, voice a little higher, as if panicked that I’d never satisfy him, brows knit with worry, “don’t stop.” He looked lustfully at me, pressed against the bed as he relaxed a bit. I smiled, standing over him on my knees, long silver hair trailing behind me. His raven black hair hung messily around his face.

“Hey Vincent,” I’ll be back in a minute okay?” I said softly, still smiling as he bit his lower lip to keep from crying out.

“Then hurry.” I grinned broadly, kissing his forehead before jumping back over the couch to find something for a lubricant. My guess was he was gonna be a tight fit. I looked around the room but couldn’t find anything in the light I was given. I tried the chest but apparently it needed a key as well which I cursed silently, curious as to what was inside. I looked around once more before slipping through the door and ignoring Vincent’s anxious cry of protest. Blinking in the bright afternoon light that filled the room, I wondered what the best bet would be. Vincent’s room. Up the stares I went, completely nude, bouncing as I took the steps two at a time, something slightly agitating but also kind of kinky, despite how cool the air felt around me as I sprinted. I opened Vincent’s room in a huff, looking around, scanning the room for something, anything that could work. I pawed through a drawer. Ohh…. He owned a few thongs. Very nice. Apparently he wasn’t too big on underwear because other than a couple pairs of boxers and his thongs, there wasn’t anything else he wore, which I had noticed earlier when I had depantsed him.

I snickered as I found a few very personal items of his which made me wonder how often he used them, contemplating if I should use them on him but deciding against it. I checked a few more drawers finding nothing of interest; just clothes. So I looked around once more and tried his night stand. Bingo! Almond scented lubricant. I grinned, biting my tongue in a snaky seductive way as I opened the cap. Not much had been used which meant it was either a new jar or he hadn’t done anything or anyone in a long time. I checked the date to find it was nearly four months old. I let out a low whistle, feeling kind of sorry for the deprived man. Replacing the cap and jogging out of the room, walking leisurely down the steps and crossing the foyer to the room where Vincent was, I took my time. I’d only been gone five minutes but here Vincent was, writhing just as much as if I were on him, faintly blushing, twisting from side to side in eager anticipation. I watched the display with fascination.

“Hey Vince, ever thought of becoming a belly dancer?” I asked, one hand on my chin as I stared at his desirable figure from the back of the plush couch.

He looked at me, hips rolling, eyes downcast, tongue just barely over his lips, panting, hands still tightly bound above his head, feet trying to find a firm place in the ground once more. I smirked as I watched him.

“Sephiroth,” he panted, moaning in that sexy girlish way that he moaned. I liked how my name sounded. I grinned.

“Yes?”

“Ooohhh…..” he rolled his head back, white cum glistening in the soft candle light like sweat along his thighs in small trickles. I noticed he was heavy and so ready I could begin to taste him again, his sex the only thing I could smell in the room. Eyes glistening with lust, I snaked over the pillows on the couch and crawled back between his legs. He swallowed as I set the jar on the flat of his stomach, blinking up at me uncomprehendingly.

“I found a few toys of yours too,” I said, grinning and that caused him to flush deeply, still writhing. His thoughts of embarrassment were forgotten as I pushed two almond scented lubricant covered fingers into his body.

He gasped spasming at the intimate contact but I kept him from jumping by leaning over him. His worried his bottom lip, stifling his moans as I rubbed deep and pleasurably inside of him. He bucked, rubbing against me, dipping in and out as I fingered him, adding another digit. He was rather tight but damn well eager and easy enough to please. Lathering myself up, the faint hint of almonds mingling with the smell of sex and tossing the jar aside, I hushed Vincent with a finger which his tongue darted to taste, taking into his mouth and biting gently as I guided myself into him. He spread his legs further in reply eyes clenched shut as I slid in. Oh he was tight but he felt good. Immediately I wanted to bang senselessly into him, make him pant and moan and beg to be taken, but I had to control myself. I doubted Vincent not being a virgin. Slowly he opened his eyes.

“Sephiroth,” he breathed.

“Yes?”

“Untie me.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Please.” He let his head fall back and after a silent pause, I obeyed, releasing his wrists from their bond. After another long second, me tending to his neck with kisses, finding his sweet spot apparently, for when I nibbled there near his collarbone, he gasped, head back, hands flying to my head, pressing me against his flesh, legs drawing up to my sides as my hands found their ways to his pretty little ass.

He kissed the top of my head, hissing as I began to move against him, thrusting at a slow pace into his tight, warm body. He groaned heavily, the water moving beneath us but wielding support as Vincent clutched at my back with one hand, the other still massaging my head to find some sort of grip. Tears lined his eyes as my pace quickened lustfully, rolling my hips against his. His back arched, knees practically up to my shoulders, he turned away, allowing me access to the other unloved side of his pale neck which I took with lips and tongue. He moaned as my hand pressed against his lower back keeping him in place. Vincent clutched at the bed spread, twisting and writing beneath me like a little eel as I found that sweet spot deep inside him. I thrust in, my control dwindling as I pounded against his prostate, so deep I thought I was in his belly, regaining my lost footing as I braced against him, lifting and pushing him against the side of the couch. He rubbed one leg thickly against my side and I complied by running a hand down his thigh, the other moving to his erection, bathed with cum. Vincent gasped, a tear of pain and pleasure escaping as he moaned wildly, falling against the back of the couch, one hand to his head.

I braced deeply into him, forgetting about being gentle and riding him like a rabbit in heat, clutching his hips as he gasped, bucking against me to meet my thrusts, moaning loudly as I bit his shoulder, grasping at my head, my back, legs tightly wrapped around my waist, another tear falling as he came, gasping and nearly screaming my name as I followed, a stream of hot liquid pouring deeply into his body. Finally he relaxed, falling into the couch and shuddering, twitching as I pressed against him, climbing onto the couch as well, his legs still wrapped around my waist, keeping me firmly in place. Panting, we sat, supporting each other. He fell into my arms biting the joint between my neck and shoulder as I touched him, running my thumb over his slick head. He huffed against my shoulder, trembling, another tear wetting my skin. One hand firmly on his ass, one over the curve of his shoulder blade, I kept him there, the warm fluid between us turning sticky in the cool air against our bodies, pressed against one another’s. I ran my fingers through his raven hair. After a long time of just sitting there holding each other, me murmuring nothing in particular in his ear, he finally drew back, looking me in the face. Breath steady, heart rate back to normal, stared seriously at me, the candles behind us dying out one by one.

“Sephiroth?”

“Yes?”

The faintest traces of a smile curled the edges of his lips. I grinned.

“That’s a start,” I said. The quickest true, pleasant smile darted across his face before dissolving as he threw himself back in my arms, making me fall back onto the awkwardly angled couch. I couldn’t see it but my guess was good enough. He was smiling now. Not a big smile. But a smile nonetheless. As the last candle sputtered and died, we were left in the darkness, laying there with only each other. I continued to pet him, playing with long strands of glossy hair before he shifted slightly, looking at me, even though I couldn’t see him.

“Sephiroth?” For at least the tenth time that night… er day, I replied.

“Yes?” I sighed contentedly.

“You told me you were only here to make me smile for Lucrecia’s sake, right?” he asked reluctantly.

“What? Afraid I’ll leave you?” Gingerly he nodded, ashamed. I put a hand to his cheek, feeling another tear slide down as he sat in my lap, hands on my stomach.
I flashed a wide smile in the darkness.

“Why? Wanna go another round?” I asked, only half serious. To my surprise, Vincent nodded. I swallowed again, slightly sitting up. “I wasn’t completely serious you know.” Vincent only complied by kissing me and forcing me back down, thrusting against me to make me groan with pleasure, sparks igniting behind my eyelids.

“Take it easy,” I breathed, smirking. “That’s my job.

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A/n: The second part of RR stands for review…. You read… now you review :3

And we will all die happy ^ ^;