Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Possession ❯ Part III: Unreason ( Chapter 3 )

Author's Note: I apologize for the absurdly long wait. I hated not having any internet but it was an unfortunate inevitability. But now I am back with plenty more to come! I appreciate all the reviews I received in my absence and I apologize for being unable to respond to each and every one. Thanks for reading and I look forward to your comments. Enjoy!

 

Part Three - Unreason

 

It's their world... yet we change it.

It's their right... and we fake it.

Here's their time... but we waste it.

That's my touch... and they claim it.

 

His eyelids lifted slowly, scraping across eyeballs painfully. A yawn attacked him even as he began to awaken, as if he had not actually slept a wink. Tseng groaned as he rolled over, bright light stabbing into his vision along with a striking pain across the backs of his eyes. Such symptoms could only mean one thing. He had been drinking again, and far too much than he should have.

 

Blinking in a bit of confusion, Tseng peered around his location, trying to pinpoint when and where he was. It didn't appear to be his own home, or any that he recognized. He licked his lips, grimacing at the terrible taste of morning breath and sorely wishing for a glass of water as he took in the utilitarian design of the room. He glanced down at his body, brow furrowing when he realized he was completely nude.

 

And then they hit him. The memories came in short bursts, echoes of hungry moans and the heavy scent of sex musk. Sephiroth's mouth over his and warm, sweat-slick bodies moving together. His face began to burn as he remembered not only his ridiculously wanton behavior, but also his irrational actions. His jealousy over Zack had been ill-placed and foolish. There was nothing there for him to envious over, nor was there any reason or right for him to harbor that kind of emotion.

 

Tseng rolled over and blinked as he fell directly under a stream of harsh sunlight coming in through the open blinds of another window. He idly wondered if Sephiroth ever closed the damn things before he realized that this was the first time he had ever stayed the night at Sephiroth's. Nor had the General ever stayed with him. They had always left before anything remotely intimate like that occurred.

 

Intimacy was for fools that actually believed in love. There was no such thing as love for men like them. Not when it had been bred out of them. The desire that they shared, the strict lust for one another, it was the best they could hope for. If they even had the right to hope at all.

 

The sudden jarring sound of a phone ringing disturbed his muddled and alcohol-fogged thoughts. His ears blearily followed the sound, finding much to his surprise, that his cell was on the bedside table, along with his keys and wallet. A quick glance around the room informed him that his clothes were neatly piled on a small chair. The piercing tone shrilled again and with a groan, he flopped a hand over, groping for the phone.

 

His fingers encountered the slim device and dragging it back towards him, he flipped it open, muttering out a mumbled response. “Tseng, `ere.”

 

A horsey laugh invaded his ears and he bit back a nauseated and aggravating sigh. “Orders from the President,” Heidegger rasped. “Get your ass in to the office Tseng. I've a mission for you and Reno.”

 

Rising to a sitting position, Tseng scrubbed the back of his hand over his eyes, trying to clear away the mess. “You want me on a mission?” he inquired, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. It had been a long time since he had actually gone on an assignment. “Might I ask why?”

 

“We don't pay you to ask questions.” Heidegger snorted. On the other end, Tseng could clearly hear the sound of him munching on some food. “Just do your job.”

 

Swinging his feet around, he placed them on the edge of the bed, momentarily recoiling when they met cold, wooden floor. “I got it,” he muttered, clearly aggravated. His eyes darted to the wall clock, registering that it was barely seven in the morning. He had gotten less than four hours of sleep.

 

“Good.” Heidegger crunched again. “The assignment's on your desk. No screw-ups this time, Tseng. Or the President's not going to be happy.” With another horsey laugh, the phone went silent.

 

Muttering a curse, Tseng clicked his phone off and dropped to his side on the bed. He ran a hand through his hair, grimacing when he encountered more tangles than he ever wanted to deal with. His body was sticky with long evaporated sweat; he could feel dried semen sticking to the insides of his thighs and between his buttocks. His mouth felt like sandpaper. It was as if he had gone on a binge the night before.

 

And he had only an hour before he had to be in the office.

 

With a sigh, Tseng rose from the bed, wincing when his lower back protested the movement. He hobbled around like an old man, grabbing up his clothes and belongings before opening the door and peeking out into the hallway. Sephiroth's apartment was silent and Tseng idly wondered if the General was even home or if he had already left. He had a reputation for being one to rise early and be the first on the field. And he clearly remembered something about maneuvers being mentioned the night before.

 

It took him only seconds of creeping around to ascertain that the apartment was indeed empty. He didn't know whether to be honored by the fact that Sephiroth trusted him or if he really shouldn't put much stock into that realization at all. Then he wondered when he bothered to care when there wasn't anything substantial between them anyways. Bah, it was becoming far too complicated.

 

Tseng frowned and ducked into the bathroom. He figured he would shower at Sephiroth's apartment and then quickly head to his own apartment to change before rushing to work. With any luck, he would only be about ten minutes late. And wasn't it just his fortune to be given an assignment... with Reno of all people. This day couldn't get any better.

 

- - - - -

 

The pride of ShinRa hated his office, and his desk, and his chair, but it was pretty much the office in general that he despised. He was not meant to sit behind a desk and read reports all day. His purpose was to fight, to lead soldiers, not to sign off on ridiculous and meaningless statements of things he cared very little about. Plainly put, it irked him.

 

Sephiroth sighed as he laid down his pen and rubbed a hand across his forehead, which was beginning to ache with the same dull throbbing. He swore that his inbox never got any smaller and the monotonous litany of signing his name was tiresome. Not to mention he was exhausted.

 

For three damn nights he had gotten little more than a few hours of sleep each. His rest had been disturbed by nightmares, those only brought about by any amount of time he spent in Hojo's care. He even feared that the disturbing images were not mere nightmares, but perhaps repressed memories. Considering the man that inspired them, he did not think his assumptions were that far off.

 

A knock on his door disturbed his thoughts. Biting back a sigh, Sephiroth picked up his pen. “Enter,” he intoned loudly, already raising his eyes back to the mind-numbing paper in front of him. The man's report read slightly better than a medical textbook... but not enough to actually keep his interest.

 

The door swung open with a slow and steady squeak. Inwardly, Sephiroth breathed a sign of irritation. The newbies were always terrified of him, making it quite difficult to actually make any use of them.

 

“Th—these are the Turk mission reports you requested, sir,” the kid stuttered, standing at attention with papers clutched to tightly in one hand that they were getting wrinkled.

 

Sephiroth gestured to him with one hand. “Bring them here,” he ordered crisply.

 

The kid, a bright blue-eyed boy who was probably no older than sixteen, nodded swiftly and darted forward. Sephiroth was somewhat amused by this, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as the papers were placed somewhat shakily into his hands. He lifted his eyes to the soldier, finding that the kid was blushing significantly. Which wasn't unusual either.

 

He took the reports, his gaze darting to them to confirm they were wanted before returning to the boy, who had snapped back into attention but was still giving him that intent, awe-struck stare. “Carry on,” he prompted with a wave of his hand, setting the documents down on top of the others on his desk.

 

“Sir!” A quickly snapped salute and the boy slowly backed away, the red flush still staining his cheeks. Sephiroth watched his exit in bemusement. The kid was cute but far too young for his interest. He had that innocent, pure sort of aura about him, enough so that Sephiroth felt he would defile the boy if he so much as touched him.

 

The door opened as the soldier stepped towards it, Zack appearing within the doorway with a wide grin and a shouted, `yo!'.

 

“Zack,” Sephiroth sighed, shaking his head. “I thought you were heading into Midgar.”

 

“Thought I'd come by and see you first.” His best friend stepped into the room with a definite swagger as the young soldier moved to slip past him. “Cloud! What are you doing here?”

 

Sephiroth didn't hear the soldier's reply as his own brows rose in surprise. That was Cloud? The one kid that Zack couldn't stop bragging about? His gaze raked over the blushing blond again, wondering what about the boy was so wonderful. His mind returned to his newest assignment, remembering that Strife had been assigned to his team to head to Nibelheim.

 

Cloud slipped out the door, closing it shut behind him and Zack strode in as if he owned the place. Plopping himself down in the seat, that same self-satisfied grin never leaving his face, Zack crossed his arms over his chest. Resisting the urge to scowl at the man who had declared himself Sephiroth's best friend, the General returned his attentions to the stack of mission reports in front of him.

 

“That was Cloud?” he questioned, not lifting his eyes from the paper. He scanned the words quickly before realizing it was not the one he was searching for and moving on to the next.

 

Zack nodded, regarding him curiously. “Yeah. I forgot he was on courier duty for today.” He chuckled, scraping a hand through spiky black hair was remarkably similar to Cloud's blond locks. “Cute kid though.”

 

“Hmm. He is younger than I thought.”

 

The other man snorted before his gaze flitted to the papers in Sephiroth's hand. He tilted his head to the side to read them. “You're not in charge of the Turk reports,” he commented aloud, a strange gleam in his eyes and a note of triumph in his voice. “You're the General, not Heidegger.”

 

Mako green eyes regarded his companion over the edge of a document. They narrowed. “Is there a reason you invaded my office?” he asked tersely, knowing exactly how his actions would be interpreted.

 

Zack smirked, leaning back in his chair and propping his booted feet up on the table with a twin set of clunks. Sephiroth's eyes flickered to them in annoyance. “I heard about the new assignment,” he remarked with some interest and quickly changing the subject. “Sounds like it's going to be easy. Cloud's pretty excited.”

 

“Yes, well, it was assigned by Hojo.” Sephiroth returned his gaze to the papers in front of him, scanning the title and signature before moving on to the next with a sigh. “Like all things involved with that man, things are not always as they appear. Otherwise he wouldn't have demanded that I attend such a simple mission.”

 

The other man placed a hand on his chin, tilting his head to the other side in thought. “Point,” he conceded with a firm nod before turning a penetrating, crystal blue stare onto his best friend. “It's been a few days since you've seen your boy toy, right?”

 

Sephiroth stares, feeling his eyebrow twitch in annoyance. “Is there a point to your question?” he asked as he laid down his papers and sat back in his chair, determined to return to them at a later point. “And he said the same thing about you.”

 

Zack waved him off nonchalantly. “No offense, Seph. But dick doesn't do it for me no matter how much I love ya.” He dropped one foot to the ground but left the other to balance, rocking back and forth in his seat. “Yeah, there was a point. He's been on assignment, you know.”

 

“Yes, I know.” Sephiroth nodded, a frown beginning to mar his features as his thoughts turned contemplative. “ShinRa is planning on taking down the Nurelli's. I do not see a purpose in such a large-scale operation being as they are not that important in the grand scheme of things. Then again, no one ever said Heidegger was a genius.” He picked his pen back up and returned to work.

 

The spiky-haired man snorted derisively. “The man is an idiot.” He let his chair fall down with an audible thump before leaning forward in his seat, elbows balanced on his knees. “You should've heard Reno's bragging though.”

 

Sephiroth's hand stilled, the utensil ceasing in the middle of the word though he didn't raise his gaze. “Bragging?” he repeated, trying his best to sound disinterested. He had the feeling he failed.

 

A smirk crossed the dark-haired man's face. “Yeah. He's been trying to get into his bosses pants for a while now. Thinks he's got the opportunity now since the two of them are holed up in that hotel room on stake out.” He sat up and crossed his arms over his chest, his head turning towards the window where the blinds were flipped open. “Like Tseng would screw him on mission... if at all.”

 

Despite telling himself firmly not to, Sephiroth found himself lifting his head, his eyes narrowing in annoying envy. “Reno said that, did he?”

 

His best friend nodded, moving to inspect his fingernails and feigning nonchalance. “Yeah, the cocky bastard.”

 

Green eyes flickered to the wall clock, registering that it was near five in the afternoon. The sun would be setting soon, early as it always did over Midgar, casting the once glorious city quickly into darkness. His face tightened with both anger and irrational jealousy as he rose to his feet, both emotions surging within him.

 

How dare that ignorant bastard? Sephiroth seethed. No one touched what belonged to him. He had staked his claim a long time past. Tseng was his toy, his to have. Not Reno's.

 

“Where are you going?” Zack asked, blinking with a perfectly practiced feigned surprise. Inwardly, however, he was crowing with victory. He knew it; he knew it.

 

Sephiroth scowled. “Aren't you supposed to be heading into Midgar today?” he pointed out.

 

Zack grinned and rose to his feet, the chair sliding back into place with a snick. “Yeah, yeah.” He waved a hand through the air. “Get rid of me so you can go on a jealous rampage. Won't be the first time.”

 

The General shot him a level stare. “Don't be ridiculous,” he snapped. But he didn't bother to deny it. He planned to head over to that hotel room. Tseng was his and if that redheaded flirt thought he could touch what didn't belong to him, he was in for a rude and painful and awakening. Obviously, he hadn't made that point clear enough to Tseng the night before. Besides, he had it on good authority the Nurelli's wouldn't be moving for another twenty-four hours. He wouldn't be interfering with anything.

 

“Whatever you say.” He smirked. “Try not to maim, eh?” Zack suggested. And with a mock salute, he turned towards the door, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I'll bring Cloud by to officially meet ya tomorrow, okay?”

 

Sephiroth waved him off. “Go.”

 

“Later, Seph.” Chuckling, Zack slipped out the door, it shutting behind him.

 

Once he was gone, Sephiroth's eyes flickered to the clock once more. In his mind, images of Tseng and Reno together burned at the back of his orbs. It bothered him because Tseng was his, no one elses'. They might not have been actual lovers, but Sephiroth shared nothing that belonged to him.

 

His eyes briefly registered on the stack of papers on his desk. Frowning, he quickly rifled through the pile, locating the one on the bottom, the most recent mission. Green eyes rapidly scanned the document, finding that it was the request for the current assignment as he had suspected. Within moments, he knew exactly where Tseng and Reno were located.

 

A smirk tugged at his features as he folded the report and tucked it into his pocket, for later reference. Grabbing the Masamune from the corner, he stalked out of his office. He had a couple of Turks to find.

 

- - - - -

 

Tseng bit back a yawn as his eyes flickered over the four screens set up in the hotel room. They currently circulated through five different shots with a ten second loop of each but so far, they had spotted nothing. No movement by the Nurelli's, nor any clues that the family was about to leave anytime soon. For three damn days he had done nothing but stare at those computer screens and frankly, he was bored out of his mind.

 

Behind him, Reno was pacing across the floor, talking loudly on his cell phone with someone. Tseng didn't particularly care who. After having to deal with the younger Turk's chatter and constant flirtation, he was glad for the reprieve. If it weren't for Heidegger being so adamant that he be on the assignment, Tseng would have happily turned it over to Rude or Marx, people who actually liked working with Reno.

 

But orders were orders and Tseng wanted to keep his job.

 

Being cooped up in a seedy hotel room down in the middle grounds between the slums and the plate dwellers was not his idea of entertainment. Not to mention he hadn't seen or spoken to Sephiroth since slipping out of the man's apartment after inadvertently staying the night. He still wasn't sure what to think about that.

 

The sound of rapid-fire knocking on the door to their room suddenly disturbed Tseng's thoughts. He frowned as his eyes darted towards the door. They hadn't ordered room service or any other sort of service. Unless... his frown deepened as he shot an accusing gaze towards Reno.

 

The redhead grinned and spread his hands. “Don't look at me,” he said with a shake of his head. “I ain't called anyone, yo.”

 

More pounding echoed on the door, sounding both impatient and angered. Definitely not any type of room service. Exchanging glances, with one hand on his gun, Tseng rose from his seat and slinked to the door. Behind him, Reno powered up his Electro Rod, his normally grinning face turning serious.

 

The door rattled on its hinges as three more knocks echoed. Tseng rose up on the toes of his feet, inwardly cursing his height as he peered through the peephole. Another low invective escaped his lips when he realized that the crap hotel had painted over all the peepholes; he couldn't see out of it. He reached with one hand for the knob, keeping the other on his gun. Reno was perched in optimal position to meet their uninvited guests.

 

Nodding at his temporary partner, Tseng turned the knob and threw the door open, raising his gun at the same moment... only to find himself staring into narrowed and angered mako green eyes.

 

Sephiroth.

 

He had only seconds to process that information before Sephiroth was shoving his way inside, the door slamming against the wall. “Get out!” The General ordered, pinning his gaze on Reno.

 

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Tseng demanded, stepping between the soldier and the Turk.

 

Sephiroth ignored him as if he wasn't there, stalking angrily towards Reno who was gaping like a damned fish. “Hasn't Tseng taught you to obey orders?” he repeated, Masamune gripped menacingly in one hand. “Get. OUT.”

 

The redhead exchanged glances with Tseng for all of a moment before shaking his head and swiftly exiting the room. Tseng might have been his boss, but Sephiroth was not only stronger and faster, but far, far scarier. And terrible as his life might have been, Reno planned on living it as long as possible.

 

With Reno gone, Sephiroth then turned his attention on to Tseng, who was looking increasingly aggravated. His gun had returned to the holster but the expression on his face was thunderous.

 

“What the hell--” Tseng's words cut off as Sephiroth reached for him, the expression on his face unreadable.

 

He quickly danced out of the General's reach, his back going against the wall. Thinking quickly, he slid along the wall into the more open space of the hotel room, nearly knocking over a monitor. Sephiroth followed his retreat, the Masamune staying near the door, propped into the corner.

 

“I think it is plainly obvious why I am here,” Sephiroth stated as he stalked forward.

 

Gritting his teeth, Tseng drew to a halt and stood his ground. “No, it's not,” he spat out, silver eyes glinting dangerously. When Sephiroth stepped close, he lashed out with a fist, not sure exactly what Sephiroth intended for him.

 

The General easily evaded the punch, grabbing the arm before he could retract it and twisting it towards him. Tseng, however, was not that easily defeated. He turned into the pull and planted one foot on the ground, bending his body towards Sephiroth and kicking out at him. Sephiroth avoided at the last second, but in the process, lost hold of Tseng's arm.

 

Tseng used that opportunity to twist out of his grasp, whirling away with his heart pounding in his chest and his breath coming in sharp pants. He couldn't deny that this battle, this test of wills, was turning him on quickly. His cock was a dull throb in his pants, and the strange glint in Sephiroth's eyes, one like possession made him ache with want.

 

“I am not playing this game any longer,” Sephiroth growled, giving Tseng no time for reprieve.

 

They traded a few blows, Tseng being pushed steadily backwards against the onslaught of Sephiroth's greater skill. One lucky strike caught the General across the chin, which only made green eyes flash even brighter with determination. And when his knees hit the bed behind him, Tseng knew he was out of options. However, a large part of him was thick with anticipation, eager to feel the passion in Sephiroth's eyes directed towards something of a more lustful nature.

 

He stumbled against the bed, its appearance unexpected, and Sephiroth took that moment of weakness to his advantage. He grabbed Tseng and pushed them both onto the bed, Tseng bouncing onto his back. Sephiroth's weight quickly smothered him and he gasped for air as his hands were grabbed before he could even form a fist. He wasn't planning on making it easy for the General and as his wrists were caught up in strong fingers, he continued to struggle.

 

“Get off me,” he growled, arching his back up as he fought to free himself.

 

Sephiroth perched over him, hair a fall of silver over his shoulder as he pinned the Turk down. “You don't mean that,” he intoned as he easily rode out Tseng's movements. He nudged his knees between Tseng's legs, pushing them aside with his greater strength.

 

Green eyes flickered to the bulge present in Tseng's pants. “You certainly don't seem to mind right now,” he taunted, curling his fingers tighter around Tseng's wrists and pushing them further into the bed. His own cock throbbed in his pants, aroused by Tseng being restrained beneath him.

 

“Don't assume things you don't know!” Tseng panted, giving a tug on his wrists. He twisted his body, but the weight above him prevented him from making too much movement.

 

Sephiroth pressed his body against the Turk's, enjoying the muffled sound that the Turk tried to hide. “I more than know,” he claimed, flickering his eyes around the hotel room. His mouth curled into a dangerous smirk for a brief moment.

 

He transferred Tseng's wrists to one hand, momentarily glad for his greater strength. As Tseng bucked and writhed beneath him, he reached for the Turk's tie, undoing it quickly. Sliding it from the shirt, he looped it around his wrists tightly before attaching it to the luckily provided hook. Inwardly, he half-thanked Heidegger for ordering them to choose a seedy, whore hotel to set up surveillance. Tseng squirmed beneath him, jerking on his hands with a snarl curling his lips.

 

“You bastard,” he hissed, trying to tug his hands from the wall to no avail. Silver eyes flashed with irritation. “Let me go. I've got a job to do.”

 

“Reno can do it just fine from another room,” Sephiroth intoned in a surprisingly calm voice as Tseng jerked again on the bonds. He reached down and rubbed his hands over the Turk's sides, tugging on the tails of the white dress shirt to untuck it from Tseng's black pants. “You are mine.”

 

Tseng stilled, sudden realization striking him. “What?” he demanded as hands caressed his bare sides and stomach, sending shivers up his spine. Sephiroth poised over him, hovering like a sex god. “Since when are you making claims?”

 

The General leaned in close, placing his hands on either side of Tseng's head for balance. “I do not share,” he stated before violently kissing Tseng, roughly shoving his tongue into the man's mouth.

 

The Turk made a muffled sound of protest, trying to battle with Sephiroth's tongue. Yet, Sephiroth merely shifted his weight to one hand, reaching down and swiftly undoing both belt and button to Tseng's pants. His fingers teased over the bare flesh he exposed, a stifled moan escaping Tseng before he could stop it. He didn't dip any further beneath the fabric however, even though Tseng strained to jerk his hips upwards.

 

He pulled away from Tseng's mouth with some reluctance, sitting back on his heels. His hands reached for the Turk's shirt, unbuttoning it and baring tanned flesh, rippled with muscle. Green eyes raked over the exposed skin as he ran his hand over Tseng's chest, fingers roughly pinching a nipple. His sex jumped in his pants at the other man's reaction, how he arched his back and panted audibly.

 

“Now who's the jealous one?” Tseng managed to ask, his brain short-circuiting from the pleasure Sephiroth was inflicting on him. He was still pissed that the man had come bursting into the hotel especially since he was on assignment. But it was hard to keep his anger when it was rapidly being eclipsed by desire.

 

Above him, Sephiroth's eyes flashed as he reached for his own clothing, pulling off his overcoat and shirt and throwing them down to the floor. Tseng's mouth began to water at the revealed muscle, shifting beneath pale skin and the urge to touch welled up inside him. He tugged at his bindings and cursed audibly when they were too tight for him to escape.

 

Sephiroth slid off the bed then, a sound of protest escaping Tseng before he could stop it. Until hands settled on his hips, pulling off his pants and boxers in one smooth, taking his shoes with them. The clothes crumpled to the floor with little regard for wrinkles.

 

“You belong to me,” Sephiroth muttered as he crawled between Tseng's legs, still half-dressed himself. One sword-calloused hand grasped Tseng's cock, the Turk gasping in response. “You are mine alone.”

 

Tseng gritted his teeth as he jerked on the hook, the tie tightening around his wrists. “I belong to no one!” he hissed angrily before a breathy moan betrayed him. Sephiroth stroked his cock and Tseng's hips jerked upwards.

 

Sephiroth leaned forwards, his mouth hovering directly over Tseng's so close that they were nearly sharing the same breath. “That is where you are wrong,” he murmured, rubbing a thumb over the head of Tseng's sex. He licked along the seam of Tseng's lips before he took his nibbling further down.

 

“I do not share with anyone.” His tongue scraped over Tseng's throat before he bit down hard enough to draw blood. When Tseng cried out in both pain and pleasure, he soothed the sound with a gentle lap over it. In his hold, Tseng's cock jerked with desire, seeping precum copiously.

 

“Only I can make you cry out like that,” Sephiroth muttered, his own need beginning to grow. He ran his free hand over Tseng's ass, fingers following the curve as he shamelessly groped his lover. “Only I know what you need.” One finger slid over Tseng's anus briefly, teasing him.

 

“Fuck,” Tseng panted, twisting about in the restraints. He felt as if he were drowning in a sea of lust. He tried to push his hips down towards that tempting finger but Sephiroth seemed in the mood for games.

 

Releasing Tseng's penis and ignoring the man's noise of displeasure, Sephiroth reached down and hurriedly unbuckled his own pants. He shuddered as he pulled out his own aching erection. Sephiroth then straddled Tseng's body, shifting upwards until the head of his cock was poised at Tseng's lips. He reached out and tangled his hands in Tseng's hair, gripping tightly.

 

“Suck me,” he commanded, make green eyes nearly glowing with the force of his desire. “Put me into your mouth, Tseng.”

 

Gunmetal eyes flashed as Tseng finally managed some coherence. “No,” he groaned with a shiver, despite the fact that his body strained for some sort of touch and yelled at him to say `yes'. He belonged to no one; he obeyed no one. Not even Sephiroth.

 

Tightening his fingers in dark hair, Sephiroth pushed the spongy tip against Tseng's lips. A streak of precum painted the plush flesh as he spoke. “Do it, Tseng.”

 

The Turk shuddered as a commanding tone echoed around the hotel room, his eyes glinting with superiority. It was the tone that no man could not obey, that made Tseng want to get down on his knees and do whatever Sephiroth demanded. There was something about the man, something about his presence, his very being, that made people, men and women alike, obey and admire him. It was for that reason he was the General. With that tone and those words, Tseng couldn't stop himself.

 

He licked his lips and his tongue slipped out of his mouth, pink and moist, to lap up the bead of precum at the tip of Sephiroth's cock. A groan of desire escaped the General's mouth as he gripped Tseng's head and pressed it forward. Swallowing the slightly bitter taste, Tseng parted his lips as Sephiroth thrust forward, taking in most of the other man's cock into his mouth. Sephiroth's eyes shuttered closed as Tseng began to work him mercilessly. His tongue swirled around the head and he continuously swallowed, precum sliding down his throat.

 

“You are mine,” Sephiroth repeated, sounding slightly breathless as he began a slow rhythm, rocking into Tseng's mouth. “No one else can touch you.” His other hand came up and cupped Tseng's face in a strangely tender gesture, his thumb sliding over Tseng's cheek.

 

Tseng shot him a strange look, but Sephiroth didn't see it, his eyes closed in pleasure as Tseng tightened the ring of his lips and struggled to give him the best oral from that position. His own arousal was throbbing painfully and he wasn't sure what he thought about Sephiroth's strange behavior. Or the way he warmed inside from that surprisingly gentle touch.

 

“You would let me do anything, wouldn't you?” Sephiroth murmured, his eyes popping open as he panted and reluctantly withdrew from the other man's mouth. Two fingers replaced his cock, encouraging Tseng to suck as he slid back down the Turk's body, finding his way back between Tseng's legs. He slid his free hand around Tseng's ass, slipping his thumb along the crease and tempting him with penetration. The younger man made a strangled noise in his throat as his hips pumped into empty air, seeking some sort of touch.

 

“I could whip you,” Sephiroth continued, his eyes holding a strange gleam. “Spank you, bite you, strike you... and you would still come back for more.” He withdrew his fingers from Tseng's mouth as the man shuddered at the sound of each word. He probed both digits between Tseng's ass cheeks, finding the puckered entrance and pushing inside with little ceremony.

 

Tseng moaned, a gasp of pain escaping his lips from the rather rough penetration. Sephiroth pushed deeper, curling his fingers until he encountered Tseng's prostate. The Turk let out an embarrassing whimper as his back arched, his body trembling with need. He tugged again at the tie, wanting desperately to be free.

 

Sephiroth gave one last parting rub to his prostate before withdrawing. He shifted forward and placed both hands under Tseng's ass, lifting him up into his lap. His cock nudged at the puckered muscle as the Turk's legs fell around Sephiroth's waist.

 

His fingers tightening around Tseng's hips, he slowly began to push inside, Tseng taking him in, inch by agonizing inch. The Turk cried out, his body flushing scarlet as pain blossomed down his spine. But Sephiroth refused to cease or slow. He pressed forward until he was fully seated, with Tseng clenching around him. Sephiroth panted as he sank into grasping, tight heat and attempted to regain control. His own cock throbbed with desire.

 

The General opened his eyes, raking his gaze over Tseng's body. He took in the man's heaving chest and couldn't resist running his hands over Tseng's sides and his exposed abdomen, teasing, almost soothing touches.

 

“You are an arousing creature,” he murmured, more to himself than to Tseng. “That is why I say you belong to me.” He lifted his gaze. “You want someone else to see you like this? Bound and helpless, absolutely desperate with need?”

Tseng moaned, his nipples painfully erect. His body tingled with the desire to come, an ache heavy in his loins. “No one,” he managed to gasp, sweat dotting his forehead. “I... don't...” he trailed off, however, when Sephiroth's hands shifted to his nipples, brushing over the erect nubs.

 

He strained against his bonds, his body arching upwards. “Move dammit!” He shifted his hips, squeezing the cock inside him with his inner muscles.

 

Sephiroth groaned, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He returned his hands to Tseng's hips before slowly retracting his penis, only to drive forward quickly. Tseng hissed but jerked his hips into the thrust, eagerly meeting the penetration.

 

“That's it,” he moaned, eyelids fluttering as a flush took over his face. He no longer cared what he sounded like, his entire body on the edge. “Harder,” he urged.

 

He picked up the pace, sliding in long and hard with each thrust. Tseng squirmed in his lap, straining to take Sephiroth deeper each time. The General pumped into him, harder and faster, his eyes raking over every hitched breath and squirm beneath him. Sephiroth leaned over Tseng, bending the man backwards before slipping his hand between their bodies and grasping Tseng's leaking cock.

 

He began to stroke Tseng's cock rapidly, alternating his strokes with a firm squeeze as he sought out Tseng's mouth with his own. He nipped and sucked, licking his way over tanned flesh. Cries of pleasure ripped from Tseng's mouth, his dark hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he twisted and writhed beneath Sephiroth. His lover shoved into him, faster and rougher, feeling a steady buzz building along the base of his spine. Tseng's hands curled into fists against the ties as uninhibited, wordless cries of pleasure escaped from his lips. His head fell back, exposing his throat where Sephiroth's bite still lingered.

 

“Fuck,” Tseng moaned. “H—harder!”

 

Sephiroth growled and snapped his hips forward, shoving almost painfully deep at the same moment that he tugged on Tseng's arousal. It was the last that the Turk could take. His entire body tensed as he came with a hoarse shout, something remarkably similar to Sephiroth's name spilling from his lips. Pulled in by the clenching of Tseng's inner muscles, the General succumbed to his orgasm, shooting deep inside of the Turk as if marking him as his forever. The tremors wracked his body as he groaned, hips shoved hard against Tseng's.

 

The mako-eyed man collapsed in a sweaty, panting mass on top of the Turk, his hair a silver blanket over their bodies. Tseng gasped for breath beneath him, his hands hanging limply from the tie and his body covered in sweat. Sephiroth's face was tucked into his neck and he could feel the man's warm breath against his flesh, sending gooseflesh across his body. A hand settled on his abdomen, a surprisingly gentle touch that ghosted across his sweat-slicked skin. He shivered at the intimate touch, wondering why he craved even more of it.

 

“Untie me,” Tseng muttered after a moment, when he realized his arms were starting to tingle. He didn't understand the strange feelings that were fluttering around in his heart. He swallowed thickly. “Let me go, Sephiroth.”

 

A tongue slid across his throat, lapping up a line of sweat before teeth followed in its wake. Tseng shivered again as Sephiroth forced himself into a propped position, one hand reaching up to undo the tie. He didn't speak and the silence between them was unnerving, the look in Sephiroth's mako green eyes unreadable.

 

“Sephiroth?” Tseng questioned, his brow furrowed and his voice slightly raspy from his screams of pleasure. He pulled his arms down as Sephiroth's hands fell away from them, rubbing lightly at his wrists, which felt bruised and raw.

 

“I have a mission in Nibelheim the day after tomorrow,” Sephiroth intoned, turning away from Tseng and searching the floor for his clothing. He idly wiped his hand on the bed, cleaning off the other man's semen.

 

Tseng tilted his head to the side, confused by Sephiroth's strange behavior. “What?” he asked as Sephiroth pulled on his pants, clicking the belt shut before searching for his shirt and overjacket.

 

“The Nurelli's will make their move at noon,” Sephiroth continued as if he hadn't heard the question. He fixed the latches on the last of his clothes, turning towards the Turk. Something unidentifiable glinted in his eyes.

 

Tseng sat up on the bed, wincing when his ass screamed in protest, aching from the rough treatment. “Why are you--” His words were muffled when Sephiroth suddenly grabbed him, pressing their lips together and shoving his tongue violently into Tseng's mouth. Tseng melted into the kiss, his body already stirring and ready for another round. When Sephiroth kissed him like that, he couldn't think... he could barely breathe.

 

It was over all too quickly. “You belong to me,” Sephiroth intoned dangerously, his tone clearly a threat. “No one else can touch you. And especially not Reno. Remember that.”

 

Tseng immediately bristled, eyes narrowing as he was reminded of the initial reason Sephiroth had come barging in. “You have no right to--” Sephiroth kissed him again, hand darting between his legs to roughly grab his cock and give it a squeeze.

 

A tongue slid along his, slow and slick, as if memorizing the taste of his mouth. Tseng's half-hard penis stiffened slowly in Sephiroth's grasp as his mind spun back into desire. It wasn't fair that Sephiroth should have so much of an effect on him.

 

Sephiroth pulled back. “I have every right,” he stated firmly before releasing Tseng and stepping away, heading towards the door. “I will be back in a few days,” he called over his shoulder, already picking up the Masamune and slipping its sheath into his belt.

 

“And I'm supposed to wait for you,” Tseng snarled, feeling as if he was being made the fool, as usual.

 

“Do what you like,” Sephiroth replied nonchalantly before yanking the door open, startling Reno who was standing there with his ear pressed to the wood. “But remember who you belong to.” He stepped out into the hall, ignoring Tseng's splutters and eying Reno with an irritated expression. His gaze was enough of a threat. Reno gulped loudly as Sephiroth walked past him and down the hall.

 

Eyes wide, Reno ducked back into the hotel room where Tseng was already half-dressed and perched on the edge of the bed. “What was that about, boss?” he asked, balancing his Electro Rod on his shoulder.

 

“None of your business,” Tseng snarled, raking a hand through his loose hair. “What have the Nurelli's been up to?” he demanded, immediately switching back into leadership role. Tseng was determined to make up for lost time since Sephiroth had taken it upon himself to barge in. He would analyze the man's strange behavior later.

 

Reno eyed him curiously before shrugging. “Nothin'. Quiet as ever, yo.”

Tseng pursed his lips in thought as he tucked his shirt back into his pants, ignoring the ache in his ass and his need for a shower for the moment. “Good.”

 

He sat back down in the chair and promptly clicked through the scenes relayed by the camera. Silence descended between them before Reno plopped down into the chair beside him, propping his feet up on the console.

 

“What's the deal with you and the General?” he asked after a moment.

 

Tseng glared and his face tightened with annoyance. He refused to respond to something that was none of his subordinate's business.

 

Unperturbed, Reno smirked and crossed his arms behind his head. “He's actin' like a jealous lover, yo. Somethin' I should know, boss?”

 

“Reno,” Tseng hissed through clenched teeth. “Go do a perimeter check.”

 

Shrugging, Reno rose to his feet with languid and graceful movements. “Whatever you say, boss.”

 

He headed out of the room and Tseng breathed a sigh of relief before rubbing a hand across his forehead. He didn't understand what was up with Sephiroth but figured he would wait to bring it up until Sephiroth came back from his mission. Until then, Tseng had his own assignment to fulfill.

 

- - - - -