The night air is still as a strong soldier stands guard outside his dear Emperor's quarters. A sword with durability that only some have seen in ages hangs at the man's side with his hand resting loosely on the hilt. Sharp green-blue eyes act just as deadly as his sword as he holds his gaze straight ahead; deterring all that think they will bother the Emperor tonight. Long silver strands sway and bangs brush against his cheeks as he hears a knock from inside the room. Heavy, black boots turn around immediately and his black gloved hand reaches for the gold-plated handle. The hand on his sword tightens as he barges straight in the luxurious chambers.
His hands analyze everything while he searches for the source of the knock. The deep purple drapes in front of the windows don't so much as stir and the rug on the floor seems to have every strand in place. His eyes slowly wander over to the bed with lavender, silk sheets. Suddenly he wishes that the lamps in the room were off so that the shadows would be as black as his coat, not wanting the man he serves to see the slight warmth dusting his cheeks.
"Is something the matter, Sephiroth?" the man lounging in the bed asks, appearing as though he's just gotten seated beneath the sheets.
The soldier stares straight at the Emperor with his highest sense of duty, "No Emperor Mateus, I must be hearing things."
Sephiroth turns sharply on his heel, intending to return to his post for the rest of the evening when he freezes in his tracks by Mateus' voice. "Oh no you aren't, I merely hit my knee as I got in bed is all." The sheets shuffle and the sound of gentle steps resides in the soldier's ears, bleeding into his memory. "Are you comfortable simply standing outside my door?"
"Yes." No hesitation whatsoever resides in his words, having been taught from the get-go what things to say and with which response times.
"You're lying to me." Mateus stands behind Sephiroth's tall frame as he admires the strands that look like spun silver. "I hate liars." he states simply, flaxen locks dusting into his face while his longer hair, bound with a small cord, rests over his shoulder. "Do you wish to please me?"
Sephiroth stays facing the door, emotions in check and his senses on high alert as Mateus' long, nails brush over his shoulder, "Yes."
The silver haired soldier can feel the crescent moons forming into his skin through the thin material, Mateus' nails not only long but sturdy and durable. He grows aware of how close the Emperor actually is; chest and back practically touching. A miniscule smile worms itself onto Sephiroth's countenance and Mateus eats it up before it can disappear into a scowl. "It would be in our interests to get to know one another and each others boundaries don't you believe so?"
If he hadn't been trained to hold his tongue and any other gesture to show certain emotions and what he's thinking a relieved sigh would slip from his lips this instant. A crash echoes outside of the bedroom and Sephiroth immediately takes action, effectively gaining distance between him and Mateus. The heavy door is pushed open with ease for the strong soldier, the sword at his side being unsheathed and pointed at the intruders before him. All that's left is shadows as they begin to dash down the hall and towards the corner leading to the throne room. Sephiroth's heels click and clack on the stone as he prepares to follow them.
Mateus wraps his fingers around Sephiroth's wrist, proceeding to yank him back into the room. His hands grab the lapels of Sephiroth's jacket, yanking the sharp face towards his own and letting their warm lips meld together like hot irons. The backs of Sephiroth's legs hit the end of the elaborate bed, the veils around it parting as he's forced to sit down, and then pushed down on his back. Sephiroth's long lunar hair spreads around him like a pair of angel wings, the silver atop the deep violet and lavender sheets glimmering in the moonlight streaming into the room. Mateus sits regally atop Sephiroth's waist, the imperial look in his eyes clouded by what one can only deem the thin line between love and lust.
"Let them go, they will return soon enough to try and take my life and they will fail miserably like the rotting insects they are."
A grin full of malice lines Mateus' lips as he gazes down at Sephiroth, those words reverberating in Sephiroth's ears. The soldier lets a smirk tug onto his countenance at the sentence and realizes just how evil and selfish this man he serves can be; just what he's looking for in fact. The gloves on Sephiroth's slim fingers drop to the floor in a tiny pile and those fingers replace themselves on nothing other than the Emperor's fashionable hips. Mateus leans down with a sense of purpose and right to capture the pale pink lips still held in a smirk. The katana leans against their legs that tangle together with their bodies slowly moving further up the king sized bed, the mattress giving as they do and surrounding them with what seems to be an endless sea of purple.
Gold and silver drape next to one another as the two kiss; forbidden, morally wrong, and completely unheard of. But neither cares of what anyone thinks as they meet time and time again in rough kisses. Each and every piece of draped clothing is flung over the side of the bed as pale chiseled skin touches and there's no going back after that. The Emperor grips Sephiroth's hard with a firm tug, bright green-blue eyes obediently meeting his. "Your post has been officially reassigned to in the chambers I am in; do I make myself clear my puppet?"
"Yes." Comes the simplest of answers from the silver haired soldier, selling his soul to the darkest of Emperors.