Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Shattered Dreams ❯ My Lover, My Enemy ( Chapter 53 )

Warning: Heterosexual Lemon! For those avid yaoi fans, warning! It’s the second part so be sure to read the first if you plan on skipping the Het sex.


Thanks to readers and reviewers! I appreciate it greatly! Special thanks to AnkouMagpie for the review. I’m glad you’re still enjoying. It’s a great compliment you give me.

Chapter 53: My Lover, My Enemy

It was hot, almost scorchingly so. The sun was bearing down upon him with full force, a fierce rebuttal against autumn that was quickly approaching. And in his dark clothing, Sephiroth was faring horribly against the heat, sweat already streaming down his brow. As a last minute resort, he tied his hair into a messy bun on the top of his head, but still… it was unbearable.

Currently, he stood at the training arena… an empty and abandoned arena at that. He was also alone, not sure where Zack or his usual Turk escorts had disappeared to. It seemed they didn’t feel like bothering to keep an eye on him anymore. Or perhaps they had been told to stay away. He had his sword on one hand, running through some stretching exercises to get his blood flowing and his body prepped. He was waiting, at the moment, for Cloud. He wasn’t sure why the blond had called him out for a practice session, and to be perfectly honest, he was a little confused and nervous.

Apprehension was not a feeling that Sephiroth was accustomed to, especially not when concerning a man below his skill and younger than him. But he very well knew the importance of said man. Cloud was the leader of those that had defeated him, of those that had taken it upon themselves to save the world once again. He was a hero, an icon to those people… and someone whose life Sephiroth had ruined once upon a time.

He and Cloud had a history. One steeped in blood and obsession, tears and pain. And ever since his return from the “dead”, the younger blond had been distinctly avoiding him, only speaking when there were others around. Unaccustomed to people’s emotions, he couldn’t even begin to guess what was going on.

So when his phone rang this morning, a phone he hadn’t even realize he possessed, he was surprised to find Cloud asking him to spar the next day. He claimed he had something important to say as well. Sephiroth had agreed, out of sheer curiosity more than anything else. Zack hadn’t really known what to make of it either, even though he knew the both of them the best. Besides, his friend had been quiet lately, always rubbing his forehead and occasionally grimacing. If Sephiroth didn’t know better, he would guess that Zack was turning into Tseng.

Hmm.

The sound of booted feet scratching across the sand was Sephiroth’s only warning as he turned, finding Cloud approaching him, the Ultima sword in the sheath on his back. There was an interesting look on the younger man’s face, one that he wasn’t sure how to interpret. Instead, Sephiroth kept his mouth shut and faced the approaching swordsman, waiting for him to make the first move.

He idly noted that Cloud had his strongest sword with him, as if this was a real battle. It only served to confuse him more, including the flickering of emotions that kept taking over the other male’s features. Despite the hardships that he had suffered, Cloud still looked rather young.

“You came,” the blond stated simply, coming to stand a few feet away.

A silverish brow rose. “You didn’t think I would?” Sephiroth questioned in return.

Cloud shrugged, folding his arms over his chest, though he kept his mako gaze pinned on him. “I almost didn’t myself.”

“But you were the one who called me,” Sephiroth pointed out, becoming increasingly confused. Cloud was acting, for lack of a better word, a bit like an idiot. He wasn’t making much sense.

A blond head nodded. “That I did,” he replied in a distracted voice, eyes suddenly shifting to some far off target, narrowing in contemplation. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, seemingly entirely inward.

“Why?”

Cloud exhaled. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure.” He paused and pursed his lips before dragging his gaze back to the former General, locking eyes with him. His expression suddenly became serious. “We’re here to duel, aren’t we? Should we get started?”

Sephiroth’s brow furrowed unintentionally, but he nodded, nonetheless. Cloud was acting odd, and he wasn’t quite sure what the blond wanted from him. He had gone from completely ignoring Sephiroth to requesting this sudden solo training session. Regardless, he was certain that whatever the younger man had to say or his purpose, it would all be revealed soon enough.

“Don’t hold back,” Cloud ordered as he unsheathed his sword, already getting into his attack stance. Sephiroth copied him, fluidly moving his borrowed weapon and his body until he was squared off with the blond. It was a strange request, but Sephiroth merely inclined his head in acknowledgment.

The world paused, a breath of wind brushing across both of them as they stared each other down, bodies tensed and poised, ready to attack at a moment’s notice. Muscles twitched. Sweat dripped down Sephiroth’s back. Cloud breathed loudly. Then quickly, almost faster than lightning, the blond was the first to move. His thick, black boots digging into the ground as he hefted the Ultima sword in a fierce full-frontal assault.

Sephiroth’s right foot slid forward, raising the Masamune as he quickly blocked the heavy swing, their swords ringing as the brightness of the sun flashed on the metal blades. A half second later had both spinning away from each other, sand and dirt grinding beneath their boots. Arms swung and another well-timed blow was blocked from behind, Sephiroth unable to resist the slight smirk of satisfaction. Still, Cloud merely blinked and pulled back, determined and deadly. Blades met again with a clang before beginning a series of intricate parries and attacks, swords weaving in offense and defense.

They refused to give ground, pushing steadily onwards, retreating only to force their bodies forward again. The metal of their blades warmed with the repeated blows and the occasionally spark of power or perhaps fire flared up between them. Cloud pushed forward with a great burst of strength, hoping to put Sephiroth off balance. Yet, the former General was far too skilled and strong for that. He pressed back against Cloud’s attack with an even stronger shove, forcing him to stumble backwards. With a great and acrobatic leap, he twisted his body, appearing suddenly behind the blond who somehow managed to turn and parry with the huge Ultima blade.

The ringing of their blades filled the air, along with the sound of their panting. A dust cloud built up around them, a testament to their boots scraping across the ground. The sun beamed down on them, and still somehow, Sephiroth felt he was being cheated. There was a strange bead of tension to their duel, as if they were fighting again in the bowels of the Northern Crater, Cloud trying to destroy the man that had forever altered his life.

Their blades met, for once, forces equal as Cloud stared at him over the point where they pressed against each other. He growled, bared his teeth, and narrowed his eyes, digging his boots into the ground as he did so.

“Do you know how hard it is for me every time I look at you?” the blond snarled suddenly, through heaving gasps of breath. “When I’m lying next to my wife at night – my pregnant wife.“ He clenched his teeth, mako eyes blazing. “How hard it is when I remember you’re alive?”

Sephiroth was at a loss for words, hand unconsciously tightening in its grip on the hilt of the Masamune. He wasn’t entirely sure what Cloud was trying to convey to him.

“What?” he questioned, but in the same moment, Cloud broke away from their stalemate with a spin, executing a series of fierce and heavy-handed downswings that forced Sephiroth back a few steps.

A rock tumbled beneath his boot. He faltered as he noticed the expression on the other man’s face, and Sephiroth was too distracted to side-step as a blade nicked him in the shoulder. The pain was nothing, and there wasn’t even any blood. Still, it was plainly evident then that Cloud was serious. There was something more to this supposed training session.
Sephiroth gritted his teeth and dug his heels into the ground, pushing himself forward with great momentum. He allowed the longer reach of the Masamune to force Cloud into a retreat, swinging with a fierce backswing to allow himself some breathing room. However, the younger man would have none of it. He ignored the dust swirling in his gaze and the sweat streaming down his brow, instead pushing forward. He sliced upwards at his opponent, a move which the former General easily blocked. Yet, he quickly shifted his weight, lashing out with a heavily booted foot. Sephiroth effortlessly leaned back to avoid the blow, maintaining his balance easily and managing to block the next violent downswing of the Ultima Sword. At the same moment, he swung out with a expertly trained fist to grip the hilt of Cloud’s weapon, bringing them both to a halt.

And it wasn’t then that Sephiroth even realized he had somehow marked Cloud, a short but still fiercely bleeding cut across the younger man’s cheekbone.

“Have you forgotten?” Cloud hissed, their faces so close he could feel the blond’s breath on his face. “Am I truly that beneath your notice?”

“Forgotten?” Sephiroth sent back, beginning to be thoroughly annoyed by Cloud’s evasiveness and strange behavior. How he could he have forgotten something he didn’t know to remember?

The blond shook his head, sweat-soaked blond spikes limply falling around his face and into his vision, lips moving soundlessly as if speaking to someone else. “Nevermind that,” he countered before querying again, this time his voice demanding. “Why are you here?”

Sephiroth blinked, unsure how to respond to that. Just then, he sensed a tiny shift in the blond’s movement and reacted quickly, avoiding the fist aimed for his head and twisting backwards. He extricated his grasp from the hilt of the Ultima Sword, dodging a well-placed kick. Cloud took several swipes at him, beginning another exchange of blows.

“Are you here to fight for us?” the blond demanded through clenched teeth, fierce and angry in his movements.

Downswing. Parry. Upswing. Clang!

“Are you going to die for this planet?”

Blade met blade, but Cloud pushed on, the flat of his sword screeching along the length of the Masamune with a horrible sound. He lashed out with another foot, but Sephiroth shifted his weight, pulling back his own blade and slashing at the still attacking blond. However, Cloud was ready for it, easily manipulating the heavier Ultima sword until the two legendary weapons met with another fierce ringing noise that echoed across the empty arena.

Sephiroth pulled back from the brief respite, Cloud reeling as well.

“Are you willing to die to save one of us?” the blond all but spat, something in his expression akin to sadness, though his eyes were clouded with anger and worry… hurt. So many emotions swirled about, too many for Sephiroth to interpret. He didn’t know what had gotten into the blond, only able to think that perhaps Cloud was seeking his revenge, that he had not forgiven him in the slightest.

The moment the words left Cloud’s lips, however, he wasted no time in emitting a cry of rage and launching himself at Sephiroth, blade gleaming in the bright sunlight.

Slash! Defend! Parry! Block! Slash!

One right after another, nearly a blur to anyone who might have been watching. It seemed like Cloud was holding his own against the Great General, but to anyone who knew better, they could see that Sephiroth was in fact holding back… that he was merely defending with few, if any, counterattacks. Regardless, little by little, the blond could not hold against the onslaught.

Then a mistake, a shifted knee, and with a powerful blow, the younger male went flying several feet backwards, boots sliding across the sandy dirt and digging great furrows as they did so. His blade dug into the ground, trying to stop his momentum as his chest heaved from the force of Sephiroth’s blow. The older man hadn’t even used his full power.

“Why?” Sephiroth demanded, his breaths coming out ragged, feeling haggard in his entire body, but it was more from his annoyance than from actual strain. His hair had come loose from the bun, flitting about his face, and his clothes stuck to his form it awkward places. Still, he was not weary from the exertion of the battle, rather from the emotional damage that Cloud was wrecking on him. The younger man was confusing him, making him question everything.

Was he willing to die? Why was he there? What did it matter? And why wasn’t he trying to fight!?!

Cloud came to a stop a good twenty feet from the panting former General, pulling himself up to a firm standing position and gripping the Ultima blade firmly. He stared down Sephiroth, his own chest heaving with the exertion. He had not fought a true battle in a long time, which had only gone to show him how truly right he was for making his decision.

“Why aren’t you using your real power?” Sephiroth shot back harshly, even as he eyed the slowly and purposefully approaching Cloud. The younger male had recovered quickly from the blow and seemed ready to fight again. “You are stronger than this!”

Cloud sucked in a breath, some strange emotion flittering across his face before he hurled himself at the former General. His sword flew in a quick succession of attacks that, for anyone other than Sephiroth, might have been difficult to dodge. But they were also wild, unpredictable, almost inefficient swings of a heavy blade that wore down the blond’s stamina.

“No--”

Clang! Ring! Boot skidding across the dirt. Dust flying into the air, choking their throats and lungs as Cloud words were a denial, meant with every fabric of his being.

“--I’m--”

Sephiroth was gaining ground and quickly, finding it easy as Cloud seemed to degenerate, losing every once of his control, arms shaking in their grip.

“--Not!”

Clang! A sharp, angry sound as the Ultima Sword went flying from Cloud’s hands, lost from an unsteady grip and a powerful slash by Sephiroth. The Masamune stopped itself inches from Cloud’s neck as two pairs of eyes locked onto each other.

The blond’s chest heaved as he stood stock still, something seeming to glint in his gaze, almost like tears were threatening to fall. “I never was,” Cloud bit out softly, swallowing hard.

Sephiroth hesitated and regarded him, a bizarre feeling making its way into the pit of his stomach. His entire body was on fire from the battle, even his own breath was coming in short quick pants. Slowly, he lowered his sword, all fight seeming to have drained out of the shorter blond.

“I can’t do it anymore. I don’t have the strength or the power…” Cloud said in a weak voice, seemingly having lost all of its vigor and vitality. He seemed entirely frail then, broken, like something had stolen everything from him once again… or threatened to do so. It was then that Sephiroth noticed the shadows behind the mako blue gaze, shadows that he well knew. It was the grey formlessness of someone whose sleep had been haunted by nightmares, night after night, an endless mélange of terror and regret.

“I can’t lead them into battle… but you can,” the blond finished, never taking his solemn gaze off the man he had once idolized, worshiped in all his entirety. To a man he had once desired with every inch of his body.

Sephiroth’s eyes widened unintentionally. Was he hearing this correctly? Had Cloud come to him to ask him to lead them? To take over his position? It seemed impossible, improbable. By all accounts, he was still the blond’s enemy, still the one that Cloud should despise… hate the most.

“You are asking me to lead them?” he questioned aloud, seeking confirmation. At Cloud’s answering nod, he shook his head, gaze dropping to the ground. His hand suddenly shook on the hilt of the Masamune, but he didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t know if he could do such a thing, if he could handle that responsibility. And suddenly, the blond’s actions made sense, his questions during the battle, his reluctance… everything.

And when his voice came out once again, it was just as quiet as Cloud’s, if not more so. “Why me?” he asked, gaze finally rising to lock with the blond’s. “Why not Zack?” The dark-haired man was a smarter choice. He was trustworthy, loyal, skilled… sane, most importantly.

Cloud shook his head. “It has to be you,” he answered firmly. “Zack is Zack. He’s my friend. I love him dearly. I trust him, and we both know he’s strong.” The words became defiant then, strong, showing significantly more of that leadership Sephiroth knew was buried in his opponent. “But he’s not you! He’s not the Great General Sephiroth.”

Mossy eyes widened in disbelief. He found himself at a loss for words, only knowing that he had to protest. He couldn’t do it; there was no way. He simply wasn’t sane enough… nor did he think anyone else would trust him.

“But--“

The blond cut him off, however, before he could even properly turn him down.

“I need you to do this!” Cloud insisted, hands curling into a fist. “I can’t go! If I do… I know something will happen. If I’m not here…” He paused, fisted hands beginning to shake at his sides as he stared at the ground, fear, and sorrow swirling in the blue orbs. “If I’m not here, who will protect them?”

Sephiroth was startled by the sheer vehemence in the other man’s tone, but still, his reluctance was heavy within him. It wasn’t a matter of believing whether or not he was capable; he could certainly be a leader. He had done so before, but it was more a matter of whether or not he was of a mind to do so successfully. He could very well lead them all to their doom in his madness. He couldn’t have that on his soul, not along with everything else.

“Cloud, I…” he trailed off, unable to completely deny him, not when those eyes looked up at him again, bright and so full of trust. It was something Sephiroth was certain that he did not deserve.

“Command them, Sephiroth,” Cloud said in a voice full of command but also pleading. “You’re the only who can. I don’t understand it. I can’t explain it, but I trust you… that you’ll make the right decision, that in your hands is our peace.”

The very word itself was almost foreign to him, except for the feelings that he had for his best friend. “In my hands?” Sephiroth floundered.

Cloud sighed, running a hand through his hair and wincing as if the motion pained him. “I hear him… but he can’t answer me. I could never make it into SOLDIER. And in a fight against immortals, I may as well have signed a death warrant.” He locked eyes with the man that had once been his idol and in many ways probably still was. He was powerful. He was strong, nearly unflinching in the face of all that he had been forced to bear.

“We need victory,” the blond stated firmly. “Above all, Gaia needs peace.”

“How can you say that?” questioned Sephiroth. “How can you trust me?” It still baffled the other man in so many ways, this unwavering belief that Cloud had in him. Even after all that had occurred, it was still present.

Cloud bit his lip but didn’t move his gaze. “Once long ago… I may have even loved you. Regardless, I idolized you, and more so, I trust Zack. You’re not the same, and we all make mistakes.” He took a deep breath, disjointed explanation only further confusing Sephiroth. “I trust you because I know if I don’t, then we may all be doomed.”

Doomed. It was such an absolute word, implying no other option. Was there truly no one else that Cloud had to rely on a half-sane man only recently returned to life?

“And what If I say no?”

Limp blond spikes wavered as Cloud shook his head. “You won’t,” he replied firmly. “Because you know as well as I do that this is why you are here, this is why you’ve been given the second chance. Despite what I asked of you, I know you only used a fraction your strength, while I was giving it all I had.”

Sephiroth sighed, tearing his gaze away from Cloud’s yet already knowing his mind had been made up. He could not turn from the path laid from him no more than Cloud could stand up to the force of the demi-deities. Not with the skill that Sephiroth had been shown. If it was truly his fate to take this course, then he was not one to deny. The Planet needed him, and in response, in thanks for this gift, he would answer her call.

“What about the others?” he inquired tiredly, a way of agreeing to Cloud’s request without actually saying so. “Won’t they disagree?”

Cloud ran another hand through his hair, a habit Sephiroth now realized was one of nervousness or apprehension. “You let me worry about them. I don’t know why, but they trust me. And Aeris trusts you. That should suffice.”

The former General nodded at his words, though he knew it was not going to be easy. In many ways, this new task made everything that much harder for him, as if he had to live up to higher standards. He could no longer dwell on his mistakes or his disgust for his family. He had lives that depended on him, an entire planet of them to be exact. Somehow, he had to find a way to subdue the insanities and become a semblance of whole.

He dragged his gaze back towards Cloud, finding that the blond was giving him a strange look, one he wasn’t sure how to interpret. Was that pride? Relief? Sephiroth couldn’t be sure. But before he could even question, the younger man stuck out a hand, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Without thinking, Sephiroth accepted the handshake.

“Thank you,” the blond murmured. And for some reason, the former General couldn’t quite explain it, those two simple words seemed to sum it all up. There was nothing more that needed to be said between them. A handshake, an acceptance, gratitude… and everything was settled.

Sephiroth was going to be the new leader of the reborn AVALANCHE. He knew that Zack would never let him live it down.

----

Bang! Bang!

The sound reverberated around the shooting range as the defenseless targets were rigorously decimated with round after round of precise shooting. Elena was working off some steam and toning her art as well, content to be by herself and relieve some tension. As she cocked her rifle, ready to shoot again, she was reminded of why she had come in the first place.

Tseng. Her dear commander.

After he had last left in a huff, claiming he was going back to the “laboratory” he had actually never returned. She suspected where he went but didn't have any definitive proof. Let the man have his secrets. Sooner or later, it she would be cajoling them out of him and offering up her aid. But for now, she was going to work her irritation out at the man-shaped targets, trying to ignore the way her imagination conjured up a picture of Tseng to overlay them.

Tseng was her best friend… or as close as he could be to one considering it was more commonplace for him to keep his distance, but there were times that he annoyed her to no end. And this was one of them.

She sighed at that thought, firing again.

He could be so close-mouthed at times, and brushing her off like that was a definite pet peeve. The Commander really needed to get laid. And not by some random guy he picked up in a bar either. They had been slowly and diligently breaking him away from that particularly dangerous habit. It was time he found someone worth his time. Someone he could share his secrets and his pain with. Elena could only do and be so much for him. And frankly, it was really beginning to drag her down as well. It wasn’t that she would ever abandon him, but it was high time that he did something for himself and stopped being so damned afraid.

Gah.

Bang!

Another hole through the head, nearly straight through the one she had made earlier. Still perfect as always. She rarely came to the shooting range to practice anymore, using it mostly as a tension reliever than anything. Her accuracy was damn near perfect, a fact she was very proud of. Not even Maria, her sister, had been as good a markswoman. Ugh… Maria, probably not the best time to think of her either, not when she was already peeved with Tseng.

Elena sighed and pulled back the rifle, laying it aside for another gun, something with a bit more of a punch to it. At the moment, she really just wanted to destroy something… or for that matter, pummel someone. That would work as well.

It wasn’t until she picked up another gun that she heard the sound of booted feet approaching behind her. She easily recognized the gait and familiar cologne, knowing in an instant whom was entering, and a small smirk tugged at her lips. Perhaps she would get to pummel someone after all. She chuckled as she started dismantling the rifle, preparing to end her practice for the day.

“I see you’ve learned to be minutely quieter in your sneak attempts,” she teased without turning around.

There was a snort. “I see you’re wit has not lessened in the slightest,” came the dry response as a dark, spiky-haired man came strolling up next to her, arms crossed over his chest as he gazed down at the many implements and gun pieces strewn about on the table. He could feel his eyes cross merely looking at them.

“And yet, you’re comebacks never cease to amaze me,” she replied drolly, making a huge gesture with her free hand. Elena carefully packed the pieces away, ensuring they would work properly the next time she needed to use them. Considering what was going on around them, that would probably be very soon.

Zack frowned. “You’re a bit tense,” he commented, pushing aside her comments. “Might I ask why?”

“Where’s your shadow?” she returned, ignoring his question. “Don’t you need your General to protect you?”
He snorted again. “Where’s yours? Isn’t there a Commander you should be doting over?”

“Touché.”

There was a moment of silence. The click of a snap was heard as Elena closed the lid to her carry-all gun case. Zack shifted for a moment before speaking again.

“So… you going to tell me why you were… shall I say, tense?” he asked with a smirk before eyeing her almost lustfully.

She sighed and regarded him with an expression that bordered on annoyance. “Do you want to spar? I’m feeling the need to have a few victories.”

Crystalline eyes flashed in competition, even as he grinned, rolling his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “Sure,” responded Zack. “A mild workout might be nice.” He was not intimidated in the least. He was certain that this time around, the slight Turk would not be getting the better of him. He could throw her teasing out for good.

Elena rolled her eyes. “You’re all talk and no action, soldier boy,” she retorted, snapping the last gun case closed with a loud click. She turned to look him in the eye, raising a brow. “Ready to get your ass kicked?”

He snorted. “Please. I’m interested in seeing you try.”

She nodded. “Good. Leave that toy behind, and let’s go. We’re going hand-to-hand.” She made a half-hearted waving gesture towards the Zanken Sword strapped to the dark-haired man’s back.

He shrugged as he unbuckled the sheath crossed over his chest, laying it against the wall. He was certain no one would steal the blade… and if they tried, they would have to be pretty strong to even lift the damn thing. Kudos to them if they actually managed to walk off with it. He could always tease someone into buying him another. Besides, that arrogant blonde was leaving her prized guns behind.

“Hand-to-hand, eh?” he questioned with a raised brow. “You just want to touch me.”

Elena rolled her eyes before moving swiftly towards the door. “Yes, please, soldier-boy-with-no-skills, let me shove you to the ground and have my wicked way with you.”

“Ooh, feisty. Just the way I like them.”

It was the blonde’s turn to raise a brow, shooting him a glance over her shoulder. “Like Sephiroth?” It was a question and innuendo both.

Zack literally winced. “Ouch, a shot to my pride,” he responded playfully before wagging a finger at her. “Me and Seph are best buddies, but his eyes are for dark-haired men of a decidedly more quiet and introspective nature.”

Elena snorted. “I knew it. Both of them are too damn blind and stubborn though. Stupid bastards,” she muttered under her breath.

“Ah!” exclaimed Zack as they walked out the door and into the training arena. The sun was nearing its final descent, and the day had gotten significantly cooler than its sweltering heat of earlier. “This must be the reason for the tense lines in your forehead. A certain Commander stretching your patience thin?” he questioned as they strode to the center of the arena, Elena pulling a pair of fingerless gloves from her pocket and slipping them on as they did so.

They squared off, each in their defensive stances as Elena seemed to consider his question. “You could say that,” she responded. “So for right now, you get to be my punching bag.” She punctuated her words by beginning the duel, almost without warning. One moment she was speaking, the next she was rushing forward, a fierce expression to her face.

Zack was ready, waiting for her to make the first move. She lunged at him with an uppercut, which he easily blocked. Elena shifted her weight, lashing out at him with a high and boot-heavy left kick before quickly swiveling and aiming another angry heel at him. He backpedaled intuitively, reaching out to grab the angry appendage. He pushed it to the side, throwing her off balance as he aimed an open-palmed smack at her shoulder.

She shrugged off the annoying strike, pivoting on her foot to regain her balance before darting forward again, executing a series of quick hand movements, which he was forced to block one right after another. Small though she may be, the sassy blonde was quite quick, and Zack found himself having a bit of difficulty keeping up with her. The dark-haired man was strong, easily capable of snapping the short woman in half, but in terms of speed, she most assuredly outrivaled him. He panted slightly, shooting her a grin over their fists.

“You know,” he insinuated. “There are better ways of working off your tensions.”

“What?” the blonde demanded over their movements.

Again with the boots, a right leg came lashing out at him. He ducked to avoid it, dropping to one knee to sweep out at her with his free foot. She was well acquainted with this move, however, and easily avoided the kick, attempting to aim a fist at his head.

Elena fell into his trap, realizing this two seconds too late. As he rose to a standing position, he grabbed the attacking limb in his stronger grasp and yanked her towards him. Caught off balance, she stumbled forward until he had grabbed a hold of her other arm as well. Smirking, Zack pinned both wrists behind her back with hands, though the end result had them in a… precarious position.

He was pressed up close to her body with her bent backwards and their faces almost inches apart and her hands bound behind her back. Either she had been ridiculously easy to defeat, or she had wanted to lose. Zack couldn’t really be sure, but he found he quite liked the feeling of being this close the hot-headed blonde. She was panting slightly from the exertion, her face flushed with both exercise and something else. Desire? Anger?

Only one way to tell.

“I usually find that rolling around the sheets clears away all aggravation,” Zack taunted before leaning forward and closing the short distance between them, sealing up any retort she could have made with his lips. Elena tasted crisp, like the air after a storm when the rain had fallen in thick torrents, coating everything in a fresh layer of water. Almost immediately, her lips parted to allow him entrance, their tongues continuing the physical duel.

He stroked along her inner crevices, sliding his tongue along hers and tasting every inch of her mouth. They shared the same breath for several movements as he ravaged her with his lips, Elena giving as good as she got. Despite their awkward position, she managed to move against him, pressing her lips forward and trying to control the kiss. Her boldness set a fresh wave of arousal through him, and without thought, a slight growl of desire bubbled up in his throat.

She was hot, like a stoked fire and in no way did she shy from the kiss. Only the need for air separated their hungry movements, and when they pulled apart, he was not surprised to find that the blonde was grinning, brown eyes already darkening with lust.

“Well, soldier boy,” she commented slyly. “Looks like you got some guts after all.” With that said, she leaned forward and kissed him again, almost biting his bottom lip with the force and esurience behind her move.

He released her wrists, cupping her chin and directing the kiss with one hand, determined to take back control. The other he wrapped around her back, pulling her body against him fully. But as he said before, she was feisty and refused to allow him domination. The Turk balanced herself carefully on one foot before taking a knee and rubbing it seductively along the inside of his thigh, not quite tall enough to rub against his swiftly swelling groin, but her point was well made.

Elena took full advantage of the fact that her hands were now free. She snaked her palms between their bodies, running her fingers over his shirt-covered chest before heading further south, slipping them beneath until her hands were splayed over his flat abdomen and across his heated skin. He made a growling sound deep in his throat, breaking off their kiss… only to attack her neck with voracity, nipping and sucking at her fair skin.

“Perhaps we should… take this indoors,” the blonde gasped out, falling deeply under his erotic spell. Judging by the arousal she could feel pressing against her, he fared no better. She always thought that the dark-haired man was sexy but had been waiting for the right opportunity. She didn’t need someone shy.

“Mmm,” Zack mumbled against her neck, tongue curling about a particularly sensitive spot for her. The hand at her back pressed her closer as fingers worked to untuck her shirt and splay across her skin. “Where?” he managed, the blood rushing to his groin affecting his coherency.

She bit her lip in consideration, barely able to think straight with the desire that was rushing through her. Elena’s hand roamed up his stomach and chest, smoothing over muscles that were hot and firm.

“Showers?” she somehow gasped out. She knew by habit that they were mostly empty by this time of day.

He made noise deep in his throat again, and she could only assume it was an affirmative. Another lick across the hollow of her neck, and suddenly, Elena found herself hefted up as if she were nothing more than a sack of grain and slung over his shoulder.

“This… is very undignified,” she protested, though she was laughing as well. It was erotic that he wanted her that much.

A hand rubbed over her exposed bottom where he squeezed the plump flesh once. “So is an erection hard enough to drive through concrete,” he replied huskily. “Which way to the showers, woman?”

She laughed lightly, not minding the odd position quite so much. It did after all give her a great view of a firm backside. “The door there… to your right,” she mumbled, hoping his superior SOLDIER intelligence would help him figure it out. Obviously, it did, and moments later, they were strolling quickly across the abandoned courtyard. He threw open the door to the locker and shower room and stepped inside.

“You wanted me that bad, soldier boy?” she couldn’t help but tease as he didn’t even pause in the locker room, making straight for the showers on the other side.

He chuckled. “I think I have a masochistic side,” Zack commented. “Otherwise, there’s no way I can explain this attraction to you.” His words echoed around him in the emptiness of the adequately sized shower room.

“Ooh, big word,” the Turk teased as she found herself being lowered to the ground and immediately pressed up against a wall directly beneath a showerhead. Without them having to press anything, the water started, the automatic sensors working for once. It figured.

But he quickly silenced her, pressing his lips hungrily to hers at the same moment that one hand made short work of the buttons of her shirt, pushing the dampened dress shirt aside and revealing the lavender, lacy bra she wore underneath. Elena refused to be submissive, however, and started working on his dark pants, even as he swept a sword-calloused hand over the flat of her stomach.

She was infinitely glad that his pants didn’t require a belt, her nimble fingers easily undoing the button and working the zipper down. Without preamble, she dipped inside, wrapping her hand around the warm and almost rock-haired silken length beneath the fabric. He unconsciously thrust forward into her touch, even as he pushed up her bra, cupping her right breast in one of his hands and swiping a thumb over the already peaked nipple. She gasped into his mouth, arching her back when he performed the action yet again. His one free hand worked at her own pants, unlacing the ties. It was remarkable how easily they ignored the water sluicing around them, soaking their hair and clothing, the heat from it creating a fine mist in the locker room.

Nor did they seem to notice that they had been seen either. Rude and Aeris, who happened to be looking for the each of them singularly, had decided to search together. The sound of the running shower had them peeking into the shower room, but one glance had them quickly deciding they would try to talk to their friends later. Aeris had giggled as they departed, while Rude somehow managed to remain stoic. That was more of Elena than he had ever wanted to see. It was like looking at his sister or something. The two voyeurs disappeared without a word, leaving Zack and Elena to their business.

It was quickly becoming hot and heated within the shower room. Elena’s pants lay in a soaking pile at her feet, clad in only the remains of her undergarments. She couldn’t even remember when they had kicked off their shoes, not that it really mattered. Not when Zack’s pants followed hers to the floor and she had her fingers wrapped his hot length, stroking him firmly. He had left the warmth of her mouth to latch onto her nipple with his lips, tongue laving over the sensitive nub. His free hand paid homage to the unattended breast, remarking at how she fit perfectly in his palm.

Her back arched into his touch, a whimper escaping her throat as her free hand roamed beneath the shirt he still wore, hard-packed muscles firm against her fingers. He was already leaking copious amounts of precum, and she could feel her own juices flowing, more than ready for him to be inside her. She was heated, a flush spreading through her body and arousal causing her breath to come in short pants.

“Zack,” she moaned, her voice pleading.

He made a hungry noise in the back of his throat. “You taste good,” he mumbled, dragging his tongue over the swell of her breast and up her chest. He licked at her collarbone before swiping the appendage in the hollow of her throat and kissing at the base of her ear. “Sweet…”

Elena, however, was getting impatient. She released her hold on his shaft, much to his chagrin before reaching up and entangling her fingers in his spiked hair. Using a small bit of force, she dragged his head up so that she could look straight into his eyes, desire spiking through her at the darkening cerulean orbs that were heavy with lust.

“I’ve not been dancing around you to wait this long,” she growled. “You can whisper sweet nothings all you want later.”

He grinned. “No wine and chocolates for the Turk?” he teased, moving closer to her so that their bodies were pressed together tightly. He undulated his hips, rubbing his groin along her belly and slipping a knee between her legs. She parted them willingly, sliding her other hand along his abdomen and wrapping it around his back to draw him closer.

“Later,” she affirmed huskily. He chuckled and slowly drew back, only enough distance to remove his water-soaked shirt and allow her to extricate herself from the tangle of straps and cloth from his hurried attempt at removing her shirt and bra.

Suddenly, a look of surprise crossed into his face. He made a show of patting down his body and staring down with regret at his pants before giving her a hopeless look, one that she could interpret instantly.

The blonde grinned. “Didn’t Sephiroth teach you boys to always be prepared?”

Zack ran a hand through his black spikes. “Eh… Do you always do what Tseng tells you to?” he teased in return.

“Point taken,” she responded before grabbing his arm and pulling him towards her, an almost lecherous grin on her face. “No worries. I’ve got it covered.” Zack pressed up against her body, their bare limbs intertwining beneath the soft fall of the shower, water still warm. His hands fell to both sides of her body, tracing along the length until they settled on her hips.

In an unspoken agreement, he lifted her up at the same moment that she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he pressed her back up against the wall, pinning the blonde between him and the tile of the shower. She wrapped her arms around his neck, darting her head forward to kiss him soundly, her lips nearly devouring his. Zack’s was pressed to her entrance, poised and waiting though it took much of his restraint to not simply dive in.

She arched her back, pulled him closer and made a whimpering sound deep in her throat, giving him the permission he sought. Without further preamble, a slight growl rumbling in his chest, Zack snapped his hips forward and thrust deep inside her in a smooth, easy motion. She let out a gasp into their kiss, unconsciously tightening her hold around his neck as his fingers gripped her hips tightly. Kami, she was hot and tight, slick wetness wrapped around his shaft and gripping him.

She moaned and squirmed in his hold, shifting her body down against the intrusion and bucking her hips to take him in further, deeper. He pumped his hips, withdrawing only to shove back into her again, pushing her harder against the wall. Elena didn’t seem to mind too much, her passionate cries only growing louder and echoing through the empty shower. He panted, head dropping until it was buried in the crook of her neck, his tongue sliding over the flesh of her shoulder.

The warm, slick walls of her sex enclosed about his member, gripping, squeezing around him, and she moaned, water trickling down their bodies. It was a raw dance of passion as they twisted and writhed in an attempt to reach the greater pinnacle of pleasure, their orgasms just beyond the threshold. He slid deep inside her, the feeling of being filled enough to push her past the edge. She threw her head back and came with a keening cry, entire body tensing up around him. A few additional thrusts later and he followed her, spilling his seed deep inside.

As the last tremors faded, the only sound that could be heard was their heavy breathing and the soft fall of the water from the shower. Their limbs shook slightly from much needed release, and their bodies were covered in sweat, despite the water streaming down them.

After a moment, Elena was the first to speak. “Not bad, soldier boy,” she commented, squeezing his shoulder with her hands.

He laughed lightly, looking up with eyes still hooded with lust. “That’s the best you can do?” he questioned, slightly hoarse. “Not bad?”

She raised a brow, slowly extricating herself enough from his grasp to slide to the floor, his spent shaft sliding out of her as she did so. “Can’t let your ego get too big otherwise your head would swell.”

“My ego?” he questioned, trailing one hand down her side. For such a spitfire, her skin was very soft to the touch, almost like silk. “Speak for yourself, Madam Turk.”

She laughed. “Very well then, Zack,” she responded, putting emphasis on his name as she raised a brow. “I might be persuaded to change my opinion…” Elena gave him a seductive look, her meaning clear.

The dark-haired man laughed as a hungry gaze took over Elena’s brown eyes. It seemed they were a perfect match for each other. “Can you handle it?” he questioned, tone throaty.

A provocative grin was his only warning before the blonde Turk pounced.

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Umm… Surprise?

Lol. That was my first het lemon… so how about leaving me a review, ne?