Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Possession ❯ Part II: Envy ( Chapter 2 )

A/N: Thanks to Squallfan, vailea, and Zina for their reviews! I was happy to hear people were interested in this! Only two more parts to go. Enjoy!

 

Part Two - Envy

 

There's your past... you live it.

That's your choice... you made it.

There's your love... how you need it.

Here's my breath... and you crave it.

 

Tseng stepped off the elevator on Sephiroth's floor, stumbling only briefly as he did so. One hand went to his forehead as he paused to regain his balance before continuing. Perhaps he shouldn't have drunk so much.

 

He normally refused when the other Turks asked him if he wanted to head to the bar with him. But having spent the whole workday, thinking about Sephiroth and entertaining deprave thoughts, he found himself actually saying yes. Now, alcohol thrummed in his veins and his walk was unsteady. But he couldn't ignore the other craving inside of him, the one that demanded Sephiroth fuck him stupid.

Thus, he found himself walking down the hall towards Sephiroth's apartment. He kept his steps carefully placed so as not to appear that he was weaving. He hadn't drank that much, but he didn't want to fall flat on his face like a dumbass either. Tseng forced himself not to think about how much of a fool he was being and he stringently refused to admit that something might have changed. Whether it was between them or within himself, he wasn't certain.

 

A year approximately, from start to finish, that was the length of their... liaisons. Once, twice... sometimes everyday in a given week if one or the other wasn't on some mission or assignment. Stolen minutes when Tseng had been cornered in an empty conference room or even planned encounters at either home, more often than not Sephiroth's. After all, as ShinRa's prized weapon, Sephiroth received the best of the best, which was far better than Tseng's modest accommodations.

 

For men like them, a year might as well have been a lifetime. Used to flitting from one empty, faceless encounter to the next, this continuous return to the same... lover for lack of a better word was slightly discomfiting. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to walk away either. He would get cravings, small at first, but then quickly consuming him until he would either seek out Sephiroth or be found by the other man first.

 

He had to admit that power was a heady aphrodisiac and it was something that Sephiroth had in spades. Strength, an aristocratic sort of beauty that no man could match, skill... all these were things that Tseng admired greatly. A man like Tseng was simply attracted to a man like Sephiroth, whose hands were as blood-stained as own. They were alike in that fashion, hardened and tempered steel, weapons for ShinRa's use. Though, at least Tseng knew that he could escape from the mega corporation if he desired. He had the sneaky suspicion that Sephiroth was trapped by it. Sometimes, there was a look that he caught in Sephiroth's eyes, much like a caged animal, pacing relentlessly and hungering for the liberty it was once afforded... only Sephiroth had never been free.

 

He also suspected he was one of the few people in the world who had ever seen anything in Sephiroth other than that impassive and bored stare. Lust, anger, desire, all reflections of essentially the same strong emotions had flickered through mako green eyes. Tseng had seen them all, most of them directed at himself in some fashion or another. If he were any other man, he would have been honored by that fact but Tseng wasn't a man that hero-worshipped. He had much better things to do. He respected Sephiroth, he was drawn to the man's power, but he had no desire to be a mindless devotee like a good portion of ShinRa's army.

 

Yet, many believed that Sephiroth looked down on others, considering them beneath his notice and that was partly true. Sephiroth had no respect for those that were weak, not necessarily physically but those who lacked their own determination. And he abhorred those who took advantage of the powerless, the humans who didn't have a fighting bone in their body but fought to survive nevertheless.

 

There was very little that seemed to intrigue Sephiroth and he had few acquaintances, much less friends. His closeness with Zack was put under much speculation and many wondered how a man like Sephiroth could be drawn to such an energetic and cheerful man as Zack Loire. There were rumors of course, but Tseng wasn't much for idle gossip. It was, plainly put, an annoying fancy that accomplished little.

 

What had drawn them together, he wondered. How had it begun in the first place? True that circumstances and perhaps a hefty bit of alcohol had initiated the first tentative steps but it seemed to Tseng that there had to have been something else. A man like Sephiroth and a man like himself did not make split-second decisions that lasted for the better part of a year. It was unlikely. And in their line of work, somewhat suicidal.

 

He wouldn't deny that he had always been attracted to Sephiroth in some fashion. There were very people that weren't. And he couldn't deny the pleasure that being involved, for lack of a better word, with Sephiroth could bring. His little kinks had always been something pushed aside and ignored but now he could fully indulge and Sephiroth was quite good at meeting his needs.

 

Indulgence.

 

Tseng tilted his head slightly in thought. Yes, his beneficial relationship with Sephiroth was a pure indulgence. It was unnecessary and superfluous yet he couldn't stop. Honestly, he wouldn't stop. There was a strange, gripping desire there that he couldn't escape from. And it was with a slightly startling realization that he concluded he really didn't want to either.

 

Something strange had glinted in Sephiroth's eyes the night before, an emotion that had flitted all too quickly for Tseng to comprehend it. Sephiroth was often hard to read, especially good at those concealing masks and emotionless stares. Yet, this seemed to be something different. As if, no matter his efforts, he couldn't seem to hide it. Even more disconcerting, was the feeling that strange look had invoked in Tseng.

 

Within seconds, he was standing outside Sephiroth's door, hand poised to knock. Until his ears caught the sound of voices. Rather than knock, as he should have, he lowered his hand and strained his hearing, insanely curious. Laughter echoed after the voice and it took him a minute to recognize that it was Zack. He blinked before his eyes suddenly grew narrow, an unexpected surge of anger rising up within him.

 

He considered leaving, after all, it seemed Sephiroth was quite busy. He had no interest in being sloppy seconds, especially when he knew that was about to happen. He was about to turn on his heels and head for the elevator when the door suddenly swung open, revealing Zack in the doorway. His head was turned towards the inner space of the apartment, one hand on the doorknob.

 

“You know that I'll - oh, hey, Tseng,” Zack commented, that wide smile never leaving his face as he noticed the man standing just outside the door. He paused mid-step, his gaze darting slyly to Sephiroth who had appeared behind him. “Don't worry, I was just leaving.”

 

“I'm sure you were,” Tseng muttered, feeling every bit the fool. They had made no commitments, yet this strange and sudden surge of irrational anger would not fade. The urge to strike Zack of all things, rose up within him with enough force to cause him to take an unconscious step backwards before he actually did it.

 

Silver eyes slipped past Zack, catching sight of Sephiroth standing just behind the spiky-haired man. Sephiroth was dressed down and casual, wearing nothing more than a pair of workout sweats. They dipped dangerously low on his hips, revealing a pale hipbone that Tseng instantly longed to run his tongue over.

 

Sephiroth's hair was even tied back for once, into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. And dotting his collarbone, in bright red marks that no one could miss, were the evidence of Tseng's lusty passion of the night before. He was surprised they hadn't yet faded and a part of him felt a small bit of smug satisfaction at just the sight.

 

A low chuckle distracted Tseng from his perusal of Sephiroth's pale chest and his gaze slipped back to Zack, only to find an unusual glint in the flirtatious man's eyes. He turned, putting his hand on Sephiroth's shoulder and squeezing it visibly. Tseng's hackles instantly rose, his eyes automatically narrowing. Without his knowledge, one hand fisted at his side.

 

“Don't work yourself too hard,” Zack commented with another squeeze, giving Sephiroth one of his famous charming smiles. He turned back towards the door. “See you, Tseng.”

 

He gave the Turk a two-fingered salute to the forehead before shifting past him and striding down the hall. A whistled tune followed in his wake as Zack shoved his hands in his pockets, a very definite swagger to his walk. Tseng watched him for a moment, wondering why on Gaia he would be insanely jealous of a man like Zack Loire. There was nothing to be jealous about because he had made no claims, neither of them had.

 

It was then that he felt eyes on him. Swinging his gaze back towards Sephiroth, he found mako green eyes watching him intently. “You're late,” Sephiroth commented, pushing the door further open with one hand as he stepped aside, a nonverbal invitation.

 

Hesitating for all of a moment, a second too long for his pride, Tseng entered. “You didn't seem to lack for companionship,” he muttered, instantly cursing himself under his breath for the resentful tone of his voice. He sounded petulant of all things. Perhaps he shouldn't have come after drinking.

 

Behind him, Sephiroth smirked as he closed the door, idly flicking the lock shut with one finger. He turned towards Tseng, who was heading down the hall and towards the living room, casting the Turk an appraising look. “You are jealous,” he stated with a bit of arrogant approval.

 

“I am not jealous of your subordinate boy toy,” Tseng snorted as he peeled off his over jacket, unfortunately carrying on it the scent of cigarettes and beer. He laid it on the back of the sofa. “Whom you fuck is none of my business.” He didn't honestly believe the two were screwing considering how close their friendship was, but then again, he wouldn't put it past Zack either. The man was a notorious flirt.

 

Green eyes flashed as Sephiroth began stalking his direction. “Don't call him that,” he snapped, lacking his usual impassive facade. “You don't know anything about Zack and I.” He surged forward, quick steps taking him closer and closer to his target.

 

Tseng's eyes darkened with desire, his breath hitching at the sharp scent of danger that filtered through the air. It was almost palatable yet, he didn't flinch. “Nor do I want to,” he shot back, the frost chill to his voice believed by the heat emanating from his gaze.

 

It was insane, how much he wanted Sephiroth. It was completely irrational, and yet, he couldn't stop his eyes from raking over Sephiroth's chest, down the perfectly sculpted abdomen and the small trail of silver hair that disappeared into the band of his pants. There was nothing dainty or soft about the man, despite his somewhat androgynous features. He was well formed, strong yet not bulging with testosterone and exuding a dominant aura that made Tseng pant with desire.

 

The craving skyrocketed when Sephiroth's nostrils flared as he drew near, sudden realization taking over his features. The lazy smirk returned to his face, pale pink lips pulled into a smug expression as he crowded in on Tseng. The Turk backed up against the back of the couch, ensnared as well-muscled arms trapped him on either side, gripping the sofa.

 

Sephiroth leaned in close, staring down at the shorter man and it suddenly grew several degrees hotter in the room. “You have been drinking,” he stated with a hint of amusement. “And not a few either. Is that why you were late? Who were you with?” There was almost a note of possession to the General's tone that Tseng wasn't quite sure what to do with.

 

“Now who's jealous?” Tseng countered, feeling a small measure of triumph. Even if his head was buzzing with Sephiroth's nearness. He could smell the General's faint cologne and his hands twitched at his side with the longing to touch.

 

His response was quickly dismissed, if it was even heard at all. “Answer the question, Tseng,” Sephiroth repeated, pressing closer as he nudged a knee between the Turk's legs. An answering bulge met him and he surreptitiously rubbed the limb over Tseng's hardened groin. He was close enough that he could see every speck of color in Tseng's silver eyes, every subtle nuance and shade.

 

“It's none of your business!” Tseng snapped beginning to grow irritated. His own lust was taking over when he should have been indignant. “Now if you're too tired from handling Zack's energy than I'm leaving. I actually have work to do in the morning.”

 

He raised his hands with the intention of shoving Sephiroth away. His fingers splayed over the warm, bared chest and he gave a push but the man didn't budge. He couldn't help but wonder if he had actually tried that hard or if it only seemed that way.

 

Mako green eyes darkened with desire. “What were you drinking, I wonder,” Sephiroth murmured, dipping his head as his arms moved in closer, brushing against the side of Tseng's body.

 

Tseng scowled as he opened his mouth to refute Sephiroth, but the man chose that moment to press their lips together. He jabbed his tongue inside Tseng's mouth, sweeping it all around and laying siege to the warm cavern. The sweet and spicy taste of alcohol washed over Sephiroth's tongue as Tseng's fingers unconsciously scraped against his torso.

 

A low sound, that might have been a moan, escaped from Tseng, rattling about in his chest as heat stole along his spine. That knee, that treacherous knee, rubbed against his groin again and his cock jerked in his pants, precum seeping from the tip. The tongue slid along his, demanding submission.

 

The Turk raised his hands, fingers twitching with the need to touch Sephiroth, to run his hands over the pale, muscled chest. As if sensing his intention, the General suddenly broke off the kiss.

 

“Hmm, rum,” he comment as he pulled back, visibly licking his lips. Silver eyes watched the movement avidly, nearly glazed over with desire. “I took you for a scotch man.” He smirked as he suddenly drew away, turning his back to Tseng. “I think I might actually have a bottle in here,” he tossed over his shoulder as he headed into the doorway that Tseng knew led to the kitchen.

 

Blinking in confusion and feeling his blood stirring from just that one demanding kiss, a surge of irritated anger found its way to the surface once more. He could hear clatters from the kitchen, as well as the dull thuds of cupboards being opened and closed. What the hell was Sephiroth trying to prove?

 

He swallowed thickly, trying to shake down the lingering arousal as he turned and kicked off his shoes. A strange sensation had struck him, along with the irrational jealousy. One that he couldn't quite comprehend. In a slightly angry motion, Tseng removed his white dress shirt as well, wanting to save it from a future ripping. Then, clad in only his undershirt and slacks, he headed into the kitchen.

 

Within, Sephiroth was rifling through a rather extensive collection of alcohol. Bottles upon bottles, most looking as if they had never been opened. They were likely gifts, attempts to curry the General's favor... or invite themselves into his bed. While few could claim to be Sephiroth's acquaintance, there were even fewer who could truly claim they had shared his bed.

 

As Tseng paused in the doorway, leaning on the frame, Sephiroth reached up to the second shelf and pulled down a bottle, half-full. To the Turk's astonishment, it was the exact brand and label of alcohol he had been drinking. The rum was one of his favorite blends, something specially imported from Wutai.

 

“Entertain much?” Tseng sniped, still feeling a bit on edge.

 

Sephiroth shut the cupboard, placing the bottle on the counter. As he bent to pull out a few glasses from one of the shelves beneath the counter, Tseng admired the pull of muscles in his back. They shifted beneath perfectly formed skin. Sephiroth had not a scar on him, probably a result of no one being able to even touch him on the battlefield.

 

“Don't be ridiculous,” Sephiroth returned easily. “You know very well that the only person I am fucking is you.”

 

The Turk snorted even as his chest gave an uncharacteristic thump. “Should I feel privileged then?”

 

Pulling two shot glasses from the shelves, Sephiroth nudged the door shut with his hip before grabbing the bottle with the other hand. He turned and strode towards Tseng, heading for the doorway where the Turk still stood.

 

“Think what you like,” he commented as he brushed past Tseng, pausing momentarily in the doorway so that their skin touched, heat on heat. Mako green eyes met Tseng's, gleaming with something he couldn't define. “It makes no difference to me.” He stepped past and headed down the hall, towards the bedroom they hadn't even made it to the night before.

 

Tseng watched him for a moment before moving to follow him into the large bedroom, perks of being ShinRa's fave. Unlike the utilitarian quality to the rest of the house, Sephiroth seemed to reserve his lavish tendencies for the bedroom.

 

The Masamune hung from a stand on one wall, just opposite the bed and Tseng could see Sephiroth's armor set up on a mannequin in one corner. A large bed covered in impossibly soft bedding was against one wall and floor-length lamps cast light towards the ceiling, giving the rest of the room a dim glow. Paintings decorated the walls and everything seemed to be in muted shades of navy and grey. Very bachelor and very much Sephiroth.

 

The General set the rum and shot glasses on the nightstand before dropping with his usual grace to the edge of the bed. It dipped beneath his weight and he shifted to watch Tseng, a predatory look in his expression, making Tseng feel very much as if he were prey.

 

“Are you coming in or not?” Sephiroth inquired since Tseng had yet to move from the doorway. His tone held a note of seduction as he reached for the rum and began to pour it into the two shot glosses.

 

Metal eyes narrowed but he entered nonetheless. His aching arousal wouldn't have let him walk away. He moved to stand next to Sephiroth, feeling a noticeable sexual tension in the air. It made his blood thrum in his veins and his cock throb in his pants. His eyes met Sephiroth's as he took the offered shot rum, knocking it down in one quick swallow.

The alcohol was a pleasant burn that sent radiating warmth throughout his body. On top of what he had been drinking earlier, his skin was nearly buzzing and every dirty thought he had entertained previously returned to his mind.

 

“Another?” Sephiroth questioned, tilting the bottle towards him. Wordlessly, Tseng held out the glass, watching as the [color] liquid splashed neatly within.

 

After the third shot, Tseng licked his lips, enjoying the pleasant aftertaste. It was with some satisfaction that he noticed Sephiroth watching the movement, an obvious tent beginning to form in his revealing workout pants.

 

Tseng smirked. “Perhaps Zack couldn't sate you after--” He never got to finish his statement. A hand reached up and grabbed him, hauling him down. He fell over Sephiroth's lap, nearly tumbling to the floor before Sephiroth caught him. His shot glass tumbled from his fingers, clattering to the floor as his lips were caught up in a violent kiss.

 

Teeth knocked together. The taste of blood was on the edge of his senses, mixing with that of the rum. And another hand was creeping around to the back of Tseng's head, entanglng briefly with the strands before fingers wrapped around the tie. With one quick jerk, it was yanked out and tossed away, falling to some obscure location in the room. Hair fell around Tseng's face, now loosened from its hold.

 

With a scowl, Tseng ended the kiss, balancing in his precarious position half-sprawled over Sephiroth. “That's the third one you've lost,” he growled irritably. He had half a mind to simply cut it all off.

 

With a quick jerk, Sephiroth pulled Tseng into his lap until the Turk was straddling him, clothed ass pressed directly against covered arousal. “And yet you haven't learned your lesson,” he countered solidly, placing one hand on Tseng's hip and squeezing. “You should grow it out.” The other hand found its way to Tseng's head, grasping onto dark strands and entangling them.

 

Tseng's own hands found their way to Sephiroth's shoulders, gripping tightly. “As long as yours?” he remarked sarcastically. “I've enough trouble being mistaken for a woman.”

 

The other man smirked as his fingers left Tseng's hip and teased over the front of his pants, roughly palming the erection clothed beneath. “No one could ever accuse you of looking like a woman,” Sephiroth countered, squeezing the thickened length.

 

Fingers curled on Sephiroth's shoulders as Tseng bit back a moan. “You have a... thing for long hair?” he managed to ask. And with his feet planted on the ground, he was able to surge forward, eager for more of the teasing touch from Sephiroth's fingers.

 

The General didn't answer as he deftly began to work at the buttons of Tseng's slacks. His other hand gave a firm tug to the Turk's hair, pulling back his head and baring his throat. He tilted his head, sliding his tongue along the expanse of tan flesh as his fingers dipped inside of Tseng's pants. A silverish brow rose when he found no underwear.

 

“Commando?” he murmured against Tseng's throat.

 

“Shut up,” Tseng muttered, rocking his hips over the burgeoning arousal beneath his ass. A warm hand cupped his aching penis, curling around the stiffened flesh as the tongue returned to his neck.

 

Teeth scraped along his skin, leaving marks behind as Sephiroth latched onto his throat. A rumble echoed in the Turk's chest and he shifted his hips forward into Sephiroth's fingers, shuddering as deft touches danced along his cock. Blood rushed southwards and pants escaped from his lips. Sephiroth's flesh felt hot under his fingertips as he ran his hands over the pale chest in front of him, as he had wanted to do from the moment he walked in the door.

 

Beneath his fingers, he could feel a few bumps beneath the skin, as if there had once been scars but they were now completely healed over. He idly wondered about their origin before the digits encountered a nipple. Rubbing his palm over the gradually peaking nipple, a gasped escaped him before he could stop it as Sephiroth stroked him firmly. His thumb rubbed languidly over the head of Tseng's cock.

 

“Ungh,” the Turk moaned, pressing forward. Arousing tingles raced up his spine, his blood a maddening pulse inside of his body.

 

Sephiroth smirked and trailed his tongue upwards, leaving a wet line in his wake as he sought Tseng's mouth. He licked along the seam of Tseng's lips, causing the Turk to part them in anticipation. But rather than dive inside, partaking of the warm cavern, Sephiroth pulled back. His hand retracted from Tseng's cock, much to the Turk's dismay. A small sound of consternation escaped Tseng's mouth before he could stop it.

 

“... What are you...?” Tseng asked, trailing off as he tried to focus his desire-induced haze. His head fell forward, locking eyes with the General as Sephiroth smirked again and reached out with his free hand, fingers grasping onto the bottle of rum.

 

Tipping back the glass, Sephiroth swallowed a large gulp straight, enjoying the lust-glaze to Tseng's silver eyes. Fingers danced over Sephiroth's chest, one finding a pale pink nipple and promptly twisting it. A groan rattled in Sephiroth's chest as he licks his lips.

 

“I've never really liked rum before,” Sephiroth commented idly, his eyes shifting briefly to the bottle as if contemplating the contents.

 

A noise of frustration that sounded much too similar to a whine for Tseng's pride escaped his mouth as he leaned forward, wanting to kiss those lips. But the fingers entangled in his ear kept him from doing so, tugging warningly on the dark strands. In retaliation, he viciously pinched the other nipple.

 

“Then don't drink it,” Tseng snapped back, beginning to grow thick with want.

 

Amusement took over Sephiroth's features. “You get prickly when you're horny,” he remarked as he tipped the bottle back once more before reaching to place it on the bedside table. There were perhaps only two shots left inside it.

 

He didn't swallow the alcohol however, instead giving a sudden jerk to Tseng's head and pressing their lips together. A growl of protest reverberated in the Turk's throat until a tongue shoved its way into his mouth, bringing with it the sweet, spicy taste of the rum. Some of it dribbled out of their combined mouths, trailing onto their chin but neither man noticed.

 

Their tongues engaged a short and brief battle before Tseng submitted to the aggression. He swallowed down the taste of rum as Sephiroth ravaged his mouth, pressing their bodies closer. Tseng's fingers twitched on the paler man's shoulders, clinging as if he could barely sit up on his own.

 

Sephiroth's lips disengaged from his own, leaving Tseng panting for breath as his tongue scrapes along Tseng's chin, lapping up the escaped rum. His teeth trailed downwards until he found the tan expanse of Tseng's throat once more. He latched with teeth and tongue, pulling up a bright red mark before biting down. Tseng shuddered, skin flushing with desire as his cock twitched in his slacks, more precum seeping from the tip.

 

“Stop teasing,” Tseng growled, grinding down on the hardened shaft beneath him.

 

Sephiroth chuckled against his throat before he replaced his hand over Tseng's cock, curling his fingers and stroking. Tseng surged in his lap, his hands running a ceaseless pattern over the General's chest.

 

“Always so impatient,” Sephiroth murmured, sliding his lips down to Tseng's collarbone where he lapped at the flesh. A salty flavor filled his mouth, not that he minded. His ears perked at the few moans that Tseng couldn't hide and he felt a surge of arousal thread through him.

 

Releasing Tseng's cock once more, ignoring Tseng's protests, he reached up and pressed two fingers to the Turk's lips. “Suck,” Sephiroth commanded.

 

Tseng glared, although Sephiroth couldn't see it, but obediently drew in the digits. He pretended as if it were Sephiroth's cock he was wrapping his lips around. He couldn't say no when it came to the General, his silent submission something that he needed to give. He craved the dominance and the pain.

 

Rolling the digits around in his mouth, Tseng laved them with his tongue. Fingers tightened in his hair, almost painfully so, but he ignored them. The slight stabs of pain sent ripples of pleasure through him. As the tongue swept over his digits, Sephiroth let a groan slip out of his mouth, reverberating in his chest.

 

“Maybe I should... make you use that mouth elsewhere first,” he said, mako green eyes beginning to darken with desire as he pulls back from Tseng's collarbone.

 

Eyes flashing, Tseng bit down on Sephiroth's fingers, though not hard enough to cause any real damage. Unperturbed, the General removed his fingers and slipped them back into Tseng's pants. He probed beneath the heavy weight of the Turk's scrotum, pressing one saliva-slick digit to Tseng's anus. As he pushed the first inside, he raised his head and pressed their lips together, swallowing down any insolent comment the Turk had planned to say. Sephiroth jabbed his tongue inside, an imitation of what he was doing with his finger.

 

He hurriedly added the second finger, scissoring the two and stretching his lover as quickly as possible. Tseng grunted with the pain involved in the quick addition but didn't protest, his body moving in synch with Sephiroth's. He rocked onto the fingers, encouraging a deeper penetration as they brushed over the sensitive gland. Ripples of pleasure vibrated through him as Sephiroth thrust his fingers within the gripping channel.

 

Tseng was incredibly warm, his muscles tightly clenching around him and a rush of desire skyrocketed throughout Sephiroth. With a growl of need, Sephiroth suddenly surged upwards, removing his fingers from Tseng in one fell swoop. Before the Turk could even vocalize his protest, he lifted up the man and turned around, dumping him on the bed.

 

The dark-haired man grunted with the impact, his mind hazy with lust. Hands groped at his waist, gripping onto his slacks and pulling them off in one quick yank before he suddenly found himself flipped over once again. Landing on his hands and knees, the bed dipped as Sephiroth knelt behind him.

 

Irritation welled up inside. “Quit tossing me around like a doll!” Tseng snapped, whipping his head around to glare at Sephiroth over his shoulder. “I'm not a--”

 

A tongue swept over his anus in that moment as hands settled over his buttocks. Sephiroth dragged them apart with his thumbs, exposing his twitching muscle to the air. A rush of chill swept over him before the mouth returned, tongue tracing the puckered ring. Tseng moaned, unconsciously spreading his knees further on the bed to encourage Sephiroth. All thought disappeared in a haze of want.

 

He should have felt exposed, vulnerable even. In such a position, anyone could come along to assassinate him or something similar and he wouldn't be able to stop him or her. Yet, he wasn't about to quit. The tongue made one last pass over his anus before Sephiroth rose up on his knees, placing his hands on Tseng's hips. He pressed forward, the head of his cock nudging against the puckered entrance.

 

Tseng shifted his hips backwards, encouraging Sephiroth to enter him. “Do it,” he growled, fingers curling against the bedcovers.

 

Pale hands groped at his flesh before Sephiroth suddenly thrust forward, burying himself deep inside of the Turk in one quick swoop. Tseng gasped, his head dropping to dangle as he gritted his teeth against the pain.

 

A moan escaped Sephiroth's mouth. “Tight,” He hissed, pausing fully ensheathed within Tseng. “No matter what I do to you, you're always tight.” Muscles clamped around his cock, rhythmically pulsing and sending short stabs of want throughout his entire body. All the teasing had worked against him as well, he was already close.

 

“Move,” Tseng panted, pushing his hips backwards.

 

Sephiroth did not need to be told twice. Without warning, he pulled out only to quickly sink back inside. He set up a demanding pace, forcing Tseng down to his elbows with his ass raised to the air. His fingers clamped down on the Turk's hips, feeling sweat dotting his body. Beneath him, Tseng moaned, body undulating to meet each thrusts and hands clutching at the soft sheets.

 

Tseng began to grind against Sephiroth, his ass meeting the General's pelvis as Sephiroth's cock rubbed over and over his prostate. Sephiroth's sex throbbed with desire, swelling with impending orgasm.

 

“Harder,” Tseng moaned, swallowing thickly. “Harder, Sephiroth.”

 

Sephiroth growled and pulled on Tseng's hips, snapping the man against him as he pumped his own forward. He buried himself deep inside again and again, until Tseng was unable to keep his cries quiet each time. His eyes closed as he abandoned himself to the pleasure, unconcerned with what Tseng wanted for the moment. He only knew his own need, his own aching desire to come.

 

A ragged groan poured from Tseng's lips, encouraging Sephiroth's maddening pace. His balls ached with the demand for release. Beneath him, Tseng panted, a fine sheen of sweat covering his body. Feeling himself already close to the edge, he managed to gasp out a demand.

 

“Tighter,” Sephiroth commanded, his own breath coming out in sharp pants as he violently thrust forward.

 

Grunting, Tseng attempted to do just that. He clenched down on Sephiroth's cock, relishing in the shocks of pain it incurred. He was rewarded by the pleasure-filled moan echoing around the room from Sephiroth. It was only three more thrusts before Sephiroth suddenly thrust as far inside Tseng as he could, yanking Tseng's hips towards him in the same moment.

 

His entire body stiffened and he spilled his seed inside of Tseng with a grunted curse. Collapsing over Tseng's back, nearly driving the Turk down onto the bed, Sephiroth panted, his body still thrumming from the intense orgasm. He was sweat-slicked but his cock didn't want to leave the slick heat of Tseng's ass.

 

Tseng, however, was still hard and wanting. “Dammit,” he cursed, squirming beneath the dead weight. “You're not through.” His inner walls clenched as he tried to buck Sephiroth off. He was already close, achingly so. It wouldn't take much.

 

Suddenly, the warmth of Sephiroth's body disappeared from his back as Sephiroth's softened organ slipped from Tseng's body. He regretted the loss, a half-cry of dismay escaping him before hands settled on his hips, quickly flipping him over. His back hit the bed and he gave a small bounce as a warm body settled back over him.

 

Sephiroth crawled between his legs, his mouth descending on Tseng's cock faster than the Turk could even form words. All was promptly forgotten in a haze of white-hot pleasure. His cock was completely swallowed by Sephiroth's mouth, the head of his arousal at the back of the General's throat. Two fingers pressed to his anus, pumping inside and furiously massaging his prostate.

 

Tseng cried out, his hips surging upwards. One hand reached downwards, to grip onto Sephiroth's hair but only encountering the ponytail, it dropped back to the bed. He curled his fingers into the bedding, thrusting his hips forward as Sephiroth ruthlessly swallowed him down.

 

Already on the edge, his orgasm consumed him quickly. His muscles drew taut as his back arched, a wordless and breathless cry escaping his lips. He spilled his seed inside Sephiroth's mouth, the General greedily sucking him dry. As he collapsed against the bed, a tired, sweaty mass, Sephiroth crawled up his body and kissed him lazily. The taste of his own seed was a surprisingly erotic surprise. Their bodies rubbed together, warm and sweat sticky.

 

A moan reverberated in Tseng's chest as he clutched at the man above him, his mouth slowly being devoured by Sephiroth's aggression. The kiss was different than what he was used to. It was lazy and slow, almost... intimate.

 

With Sephiroth's body hot on top of his, their sweat mingling and an awakening cock pressing into his thigh... it was too close to intimate for Tseng's comfort. He wasn't sure what to think about it... not that he was all too lucid at the moment. A combination of alcohol and lust-haze left him with little coherency.

 

Suddenly, a sound pierced the haze. In the outer room, most likely the sitting room, a phone rang, shrill and loud. Yet, Sephiroth seemed inclined to ignore it. Three more jangles echoed before an answering machine appeared to click on.

 

“Sephiroth.” A voice filtered in from the outer room, a nasally, simpering tone that Tseng unfortunately recognized. It was hard not to be familiar with Dr. Hojo's distinctive tone. Above him, Sephiroth's entire body stiffened before he abruptly broke away from Tseng and slid off the bed.

 

“Stay,” he muttered distractedly before slipping out of the room, gone in less than a blink of the eye.

 

Tseng's scowl followed in his wake as Hojo's voice continued, causing even the Turk's blood to run cold. There were few men that did not fear falling under Hojo's scalpel. “Sephiroth. I know you are there, boy. You had bet--” His words suddenly cut off, to be replaced with the low murmur of Sephiroth's response.

 

Trying to think through the haze of desire and alcohol that had settled over him, Tseng sat up, blood immediately rushing to his head and leaving him woozy. He blinked to clear his thoughts even as he perked his ears, attempting to eavesdrop. He had heard the rumors of course, everyone had, but Tseng never had placed much stock in them.

 

No one knew where Sephiroth came from, his lineage or his parents, though Tseng suspected that Zack had some idea. The very suggestion that Sephiroth was related to Hojo was absurd in the Turk's opinion yet, he wasn't going to ask either. It wasn't his place.

 

The low mumble of conversation filtered to his ears, but he could make out very little. A bit put out and lust still thrumming through his veins, Tseng reached for the earlier abandoned bottle of rum. As he poured himself a shot, he wondered what kind of call Sephiroth would be receiving at close to two in the morning from ShinRa's head of Scientific Research.

 

He remembered the sudden rigidity of Sephiroth's body as he downed the shot, warmth suffusing his body. There was a story there, he was certain of it. It was almost as if Sephiroth were... afraid of Hojo. Which wouldn't be surprising, a good bit of people were, but Sephiroth was the most powerful man in ShinRa strength-wise. What would he have to fear from a scientist? Especially since he was ShinRa's golden boy.

 

The breeze from the fan above him washed over his sweat-sticky skin and Tseng heaved a sigh before tipping back the last of the rum into his mouth. Swallowing down the spicy sweetness, the alcohol a pleasant burn inside his body, Tseng rose to his feet. A strange bout of dizziness struck him in that moment and he paused to regain his balance. He had drunk more than he thought.

 

After a second, he slipped quietly out of the room, following the low murmur of Sephiroth's voice. Turk-like stealth led him down the hallway, weaving only faintly. He slid along the wall, listening intently as he neared the living room. Peeking around the corner, he found Sephiroth standing next to a side table. The phone was held tightly in his fingers, almost white-knuckled as he listened to Hojo prattle on the other end. Tseng almost believed that Spehiroth was trembling.

 

“No, I cannot,” Sephiroth was saying. Tseng paused behind the wall and listened, leaning against it for support. “I have manuevers first thing in the morning...” He trailed off, obviously listening to something that Hojo was saying.

 

Sephiroth sighed, his fingers clenching tighter around the phone. “Of course, someone else could observe but I prefer--” He cut off, face tightening with some emotion that Tseng couldn't quite identify. He had never seen such a mix of pain, terror, and shame.

 

“I understand,” Sephiroth muttered after a moment, eyes closed in resignation. His shoulders sagged. “Yes, sir.”

 

Tseng's brow rose as Sephiroth returned the phone to the cradle with a quiet click. Yes, sir? He squared his jaw in contemplation, already preparing to turn and slide back along the wall.

 

“Eavesdropping is rude, Tseng.”

 

Freezing, the Turk knew that his face registered complete surprise. However, rather than flush with embarrassment as any other person would do when caught spying, he stepped into the living room.

 

“How did you know I was there?” he asked, wondering where he had made his mistake. Usually, he was better at stealth, the best among the Turks.

 

Sephiroth turned to look at him, something strange flitting across his eyes. “I sensed your presence. Nothing unusual.”

 

“Hmm.” Tseng frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the frame.

 

“Curious?” Sephiroth inquired, an odd note to his tone as he stalked towards the Turk, his eyes again taking on a predatory gleam. “Want to know if there's any truth to the rumors?”

 

Silver eyes shifted away from him, staring at a rather intriguing painting on the wall. “I don't know what you're talking about,” Tseng replied airily, waving a hand of dismissal. “I'm a Turk. It is in my nature to spy.”

 

“You're spying on me then?” Sephiroth paused right in front of Tseng, staring down at him from his greater height. His very presence, much stronger than Tseng's own, was enveloping. His masculine scent filtered to Tseng's nose and he began to grow hard despite himself.

 

Sephiroth crowded against him, pushing him up at the wall and dipping his head, pressing their lips together. He devoured his mouth, rubbing a knee across Tseng's newly awakened groin. He swept his tongue inside Tseng's mouth, dipping into all crevasses. Tseng moaned, hands rising to lay on Sephiroth's bare hips, squeezing urgently.

 

After he had a good taste, he pulled back, licking his lips. “You've been drinking my rum,” Sephiroth commented with a smirk.

 

Silver eyes met mako jade. “Would you rather I didn't?”

 

In response, Sephiroth bent down and kissed him again, seeking out more of the spicy, sweet flavor. One hand settled on the Turk's hip, the other finding its way to a dusky nipple. It hardened quickly beneath his touch as Tseng growled in his throat, pressing closer to the silver-haired man. Their bodies molded together, Tseng's erect penis pressing against Sephiroth's upper thigh, leaving behind a streak of precum.

 

“You're being unusually compliant,” Sephiroth noted against Tseng's lips. He raised his gaze, taking in the somewhat dilated look in silver orbs. “Then again, perhaps it is the alcohol.”

 

Tseng scowled. “Compliance has nothing to do with it.”

 

Sephiroth smirked as his knee nudged the Turk's groin, his grin widening as Tseng sucked in a sharp breath. His cock leapt in response before green eyes flickered to the wall clock.

 

“Hmm, it is getting late,” Sephiroth remarked idly, seemingly oblivious to the very aroused and inebriated Turk in his arms. His gaze returned to Tseng. “I'm sure you have work to do in the morning.” Yet, something in his tone was almost... jealous. Or perhaps that was just the alcohol.

 

“Yes, I do,” Tseng responded coldly, irritation growing when he realized Sephiroth had only been toying with him. He slid out of Sephiroth's grasp and moved along the wall, but didn't make it very far before he stumbled slightly. And the world was spinning. When had that happened?

 

Unexpectedly, a hand enclosed about Tseng's arm, steadying him. “Or perhaps you are far too gone to venture out on your own,” Sephiroth murmured, fingers tightening around Tseng's upper arm.

 

“Don't be ridiculous.” Tseng gave a token tug to his arm and the action nearly threw him off balance. “I am perfectly fine.”

 

Another smirk invaded the General's features. “Yes, I can see that.” He heaved on the inebriated Turk, pulling his tipsy lover towards him before directing him down the hall. “You can stay in the guest room.”

 

“Don't pretend like you are doing me any favors,” Tseng muttered.

 

Sephiroth's eyes darted towards him as he slipped them into the guest room, the door falling open without a creak. “My, you're getting petulant,” he commented as he flicked on the switch, flooding the room with flourescent light. “I would dare say you are pouting.”

 

Gunmetal eyes flashed in irritation as Tseng turned a glare on the other man. “I am not pouting,” he gritted out through clenched teeth before pathetically stumbling over his own feet.

 

Sephiroth chuckled as he used the Turk's momentum against him and swung him around for another violent kiss. He nipped at Tseng's lips, drawing a fair share of the other man's blood. Tseng moaned into his mouth, perfectly willing to go another round as he clung to Sephiroth's shoulders. The general jabbed his tongue into Tseng's mouth, feeling the shorter man's cock jerk against his leg, straining for attention.

 

Somewhat amused, he directed Tseng towards the bed until the back of his knees hit. Tseng tumbled backwards onto the bed, landing in a sprawled fashion. Sephiroth followed him down, laying his body half onto the Turk's.

 

“Shall I take care of this for you?” he questioned rhetorically as he reached down with one hand, wrapping his fingers around Tseng's cock. Before he could even respond, Sephiroth's mouth descended on his again.

 

Sephiroth quickly began jerking him off, fingers firmly wrapped around Tseng's penis. He absorbed every moan and cry of pleasure with his lips, enjoying the feel of Tseng's body as it undulated into his touch. With the alcohol thrumming in Tseng's veins, it seemed all his inhibitions were absent as he whimpered with desire.

 

His lips trailed away from those pouting full lips, nibbling downwards before his teeth attacked the tanned column of Tseng's neck. “I should get you drunk more often,” he observed. Tseng groaned in response, his hips bucking upwards.

 

Sephiroth chuckled, sliding his tongue along Tseng's collarbone. His own blood stirred faintly at the sounds that the Turk was making. If he weren't so disturbed by his conversation with Hojo, he would probably be willing to one more round himself.

 

Beneath him, Tseng gasped, fingers digging into the bed covers. Precum was speeing out onto Sephiroth's hand, slickening his movements. Sephiroth moved his lips to Tseng's nipple, latching on firmly with his teeth and giving it a forceful tug. Tseng moaned and arched his back, his body stiffening as he spilled all over Sephiroth's hand. His cock jerked as Tseng collapsed tiredly against the bed, chest heaving as he panted.

 

Sephiroth let Tseng's nipple fall from his mouth as he moved to slide off the bed, the Turk already slipping into unconsciousness. The General swiped a shirt off the ground, one that Zack had left behind, and wiped off his fingers. He rose to his feet, inwardly glad for the amusement that Tseng had offered to him. Lingering feelings of disgust from his conversation with Hojo were fading all too slowly for his liking.

 

He stepped quietly into the living room, gathering up all of Tseng's clothing and such as well as pulling the pants out of his own bedroom. He then carted it back into the guest room. Sephiroth deposited it all on a chair by the bed before slipping silently out of the room, closing the door shut behind him. He would sleep in his own room.

 

Alone.

 

* * *

 

Thanks for reading! I would love to hear any opinions.