Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Transcendence ❯ Transcendence ( Chapter 1 )

Title: Transcendence
Author/Artist: GuiltyRed
Rating: NC17
Warnings: m/m sex
Word count: 1443
Summary: Always together, eternally apart - until one took the initiative.
Prompt: Chaos/Vincent: Xenoform, mind sex - "we are two sides of the same coin"
A/N: Set just before “Advent Children”. Title inspired by Josh Groban's “Remember Me” from the Troy soundtrack.



Vincent leans forward, not willing to accept even the comfort of the stone at his back. He rests his left arm across an upraised knee, bronze talons tapping at the air in time to an unknown tune. His heart embraces the solitude.

::But you are not alone. You are never alone. Not anymore.::

Obsidian lashes lower across his vision, blurring the world ever so slightly as he forces his eyes to focus on them; it makes the meditation easier. “What do you want from me? There is no battle to be fought.” In a bitter tone he adds, “Not anymore.” Just beyond his shadow, water ripples over the last great sacrifice, the place where Aerith had fallen at the hands of the nightmare. “We are obsolete, if not redundant.”

As always when Chaos comes near, Vincent feels a pulse of heat and the sensation of fangs within his mouth, wings furled at his back.

The gunslinger relaxes into the presence and asks again, “What do you want?”

::Are you content to remain frozen? Time moves on with or without us, Vincent. Shall you stay here and wait for it to come back to you, or will you seek it out?::

“There is nothing to seek.” The words unsaid are more plain: Everything I have lived for is gone.

::But I am here.::

Strong, tattered wings fold gently around him, wrapping Vincent in their warm embrace. Sweat beads on his forehead and he gasps as Chaos overlaps his being, energy on flesh, the memory of an ancient world in his soul.

::I am here for you, Vincent. Why do you think I stay?::

“You stay,” Vincent rasps, voice harsh in the wash of heat, “because you are trapped, as am I.”

::No…::

Vincent feels as though he is being gently pulled backwards, out of his body and into the waiting arms of the creature within. Hot, dry breath caresses his cheek. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the watchful stare of sun-bright gold.

::No, Vincent. I exist here because I was trapped. I stay…because I have grown fond of you.::

“What an odd dream,” Vincent murmurs aloud, the words quickly swallowed by mako-thick air.

Delicate claws stroke his throat, tilting his head back. Chaos brushes his cheek against Vincent's like a cat. ::I know you miss her, still. Always. I miss her too. She gave me to you, and you to me. For this, also, I stay.::

Tears held too long spill from tightly closed eyes, and Vincent shudders in his sleep. Grief-heavy breath almost wakes him with its harsh grind in his chest.

Strong arms and gentle wings enfold him, hold him, enforce comfort upon him when he would have run. ::Stay with me, tonight. Sleep, and stay with me.::

As the tears begin to flow within his dream, his body relaxes into a deeper slumber. Vincent allows himself to be turned until he is kneeling face to face with Chaos, and he stares, surprised. All this time he had believed Chaos to be but a monster, wild wings and terrible eyes glimpsed in passing as he lost control. Now in this quiet moment he truly sees Chaos for the first time, and all his old beliefs crumble away like dust.

Nearly-black skin patterned with bright scarlet, heat radiating in an almost-visible haze, dark corona of energy rising above his wings and head like a storm cloud - Chaos watches Vincent watch him, and when he smiles his eyes glitter like stars.

Vincent raises his hand, bare fingertip tracing one burning line where it curved around a lean-muscled bicep. He grips gently, feeling the strength within the other's flesh: a coiled potential of motion as deep and patient as liquid stone pooled in the heart of a volcano.

A hand tipped with razor-sharp talons lifts to caress Vincent's face so lightly it feels like the kiss of a breeze. ::I am with you, Vincent, because I choose to be.::

In this moment, Vincent knows that it is his choice now: stay and explore what might be offered, or wake and turn away.

Face slack, the gunslinger crumples sideways until he lies in the tangle of his cloak, clawed gauntlet twitching slightly as the hand beneath reaches for the dream.

Moving on its own, Vincent's hand trails back up Chaos' arm, then down his chest, palm flat against the smooth planes.

Chaos echoes his movements, each touch a mirror.

A perverse sprite inspires Vincent to run his nails across the place where Chaos would have a nipple, were he human.

Teeth flash in a grin as Chaos responds, claws teasingly light across Vincent's pale chest.

Vincent gasps and leans into the touch. Thirty years…no, more than thirty. He's known no human contact like this since he was a Turk, since before…

::But, I am not human.::

“I don't care.” Vincent closes the distance with a kiss, tasting the heat and the ash and the timelessness that is Chaos.

Sharp teeth press against his lip but do not bite. Through his hand on Chaos' chest, Vincent feels the low moan rumbling without sound. Chaos grips him by the shoulders and holds tightly, as though afraid the man would flee him. His wings crash against still air, sounding thunder. ::Thirty thousand years…::

Vincent pulls back just enough to gaze into amber eyes honey-thick with heat. “This is new for me,” he whispers, sharply aware of both his own curiosity and his lack of experience. “I've never…”

Chaos smiles a profound and knowing smile. ::In dreams, you have always. Everything. Nothing is unknown to you, though you might not remember.::

Vincent allows himself to be laid back upon a bed of moss. Knowing hands explore him, gentle him, stroke away the pain from old, insistent scars. He arches up into the touch, body and soul begging to be renewed.

When Chaos bows his head to lap at Vincent's sweat, human hands grip the winged shoulders and urge him lower. Chaos purrs and licks, fangs perilously close to sensitive flesh. Careful not to scratch, he closes his lips around the head of Vincent's cock and suckles it, tugging with his mouth as his tongue presses in rhythm.

Vincent cries out as release surges through him like a wind-whipped ocean seeking land.

For a moment he nearly wakes.

Then Chaos is there, kneeling between his legs, parting them gently while silently asking permission with eyes of molten gold.

“Yes,” Vincent whispers, understanding now that this is more than sex, it is a union of souls: human and elemental. It is the culmination of all the battles, and all the battles yet to come - for he sees in Chaos' old-wise eyes that it is far from over.

Chaos enters him respectfully, proudly, pressing their bodies together in honor of the bond already strong between them. Vincent grips him about the hips with his legs and pulls him closer, offering himself freely, overwriting the forced union so many years ago when neither of them had had the choice.

Wings beat against the rising air, catching a current and lifting the two high above the ground. Beyond Chaos' shoulder, Vincent sees the vast expanse of space, and he holds tighter - not from fear, but from deepest wonder. He clings to Chaos, feeling him on every inch of his skin and deep inside his core.

::You belong to me.::

“Yes.”

Chaos holds Vincent as close as possible. His voice grows harsh as his thrusts become quicker and his flight erratic, but still Vincent hears the words. ::And I belong to you.::

Emotion floods him, images of things past and yet to be, faces lost and living forever in the Lifestream - and Chaos, choosing his human avatar for this age of the world, and loving him.

Physical boundaries lose meaning in this dreamtime, this world away from worlds - bodies shift, and now Vincent is the one claiming, entering Chaos as they fly high enough to pierce the skin of heaven. Powerful limbs pull Vincent closer, taking in all of him until he falls, tumbling into eyes of golden fire.

Vincent cries out, incoherent as his world shatters and reforms. Yes—always—you chose me?—what must I—what can I—oh God, Lucrecia—Aerith—I can't—I'm just-

::You can.::

Eyes crusted with salt flutter open. Lips part with a whispered moan as Vincent wakes fully. He can still feel the hot strength around and within him, still hear the low voice like the slide of stone deep within the earth. His cloak rustles like tattered wings as he stands, eyes searching beyond the water for the storm that is to come.