Final Fantasy VII belongs to Square Enix.

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Relentless

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Sephiroth strolled idly around the room, his flowing, silvery mane spiraling about him as he prowled the shadows. To Cloud, who watched him askance, he seemed to glow.

"What do you want?" the blond demanded finally, thoroughly exasperated by the portentous silence between them.

"Oh…" said the perfect living weapon, and he paused to muse an exaggerated moment, one finger resting thoughtfully upon his chin; he smiled, "You, I think…" he decided.

"I think not," was Cloud's response.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever relent," Sephiroth said, sauntering nearer with that fluid, graceful stride of his, eyes piercing, footsteps silent. His delicate lips curled in a saucy smile.

Cloud began to sweat. "Relent?" he echoed, "To what?"

"Why to me, of course. What else is there? Other than me…" The smile widened; and it was wicked.

"Well," Cloud said, stepping back as the limber, otherworldly wraith approached, "there's everything else." To his disquiet, the words held a faint suggestion of doubt.

One graceful, lethal hand gestured dismissively, "Irrelevant trifles," was the certain reply, "Silly boy…" Sephiroth swooped closer, a flicker of silver and black.

Cloud found his back to the wall. Oh Hell.

A gloved finger lightly traced his fragile jawline, trailing down across his throat. Cloud felt his heart leap at that ghostly caress; and, of course, so did Sephiroth sense the escalation. "I knew it," he said, "I did."

"Stop that," Cloud insisted, as that same finger stroked his ear and gently swept across the curve of his downy cheek.

"Angsty boy… so adorable," Sephiroth crooned. "You really should take advantage of the fact that I'm not feeling especially homicidal at the moment…"

While undeniably intrigued – a fascination with death appeared to be his curse – Cloud still frowned, suspicious. Those softly stated words had only served to remind him of the one thing he dared never forget.

Sephiroth was always homicidal.

Cloud moved to turn away, but strong hands prevented his escape; and the younger man hissed with the need to distance himself as warm arms gently enfolded him. He both longed for and hated that embrace. It was a baffling contradiction.

"Such mobile little features…" Sephiroth marveled; a long finger tapped the tip of Cloud's nose. "And pretty too…" he whispered, his lips not quite touching the young man's ear, warm breath stirring the hairs on Cloud's sensitive nape. "Kiss me, you fool…" the seductive voice murmured, "I won't wait for you forever…"

"You've only been here for five minutes," Cloud pointed out, his voice not quite steady, to his irritation. He needed to go; he ached to stay.

"You're worth the wait," Sephiroth said, as his silvery head ducked, rather like a striking serpent, and a quick, teasing tongue tasted the taut, smooth skin of Cloud's dainty temple. There was a faint, panted breath, the throaty whispered words, "Mmm... aren't you delicious..." The youth's bright eyes narrowed restlessly.

"I'm not having this conversation…" Cloud gasped bravely, "I'm not having you either, for that matter."

"Ah, making me do all the work," Sephiroth accused mildly, pivoting elegantly to fully face him. The perfect visage angled closer, "And tempting me is… dangerous," he warned, glowing eyes hooded and amused. "You know you want me…" he urged, "Everyone does…" One pale brow arched sardonically; he smiled, "Even I want me…" he confessed; warm lips brushed Cloud's neck, as light as a drift of spider's silk. And with a similar snaring intention, Cloud knew, struggling against inevitable response.

"Then please, go fuck yourself," Cloud recommended, voice slightly pleading.

"Heh," Sephiroth replied, sensing acquiescence, and slipping closer still with a languid smile, cold eyes gleaming beneath feathery, lowered lashes. Lithe leather hips nudged familiarly. Cloud flinched a little and there was a soft chuckle as lips nuzzled his neck just behind his ear. Cloud's knees threatened to buckle. "See?" the voice sighed, "I knew you were interested…"

"Am not," Cloud croaked.

"That's called being in denial…" the voice kindly instructed, "Let me help you with that."

Cloud glanced sidelong at his adept assailant, tautening as that willowy, deadly body leaned intimately closer into his.

"You're so cute…" Sephiroth purred, "Pretending to resist the irresistible…" Glittering eyes pondered him intently, slightly parted lips moving in a faint, knowing smile, "You'll lose..." he sighed with a slow, sensuous blink, "I always win…" Nimble fingers wound into Cloud's fine, pale hair, taking a gentle grip.

Smiling, Sephiroth watched the slim, supple neck arch as he drew back the unresisting head, gliding his fingertips across the young man's slightly quivering throat, well aware of his pounding pulse. "And even if I don't win…" he promised, "You'll wish I had…"

"You're insane…" Cloud breathed without conviction.

"Part of my charm… and do shut up while I'm seducing you…"

Cloud was acutely aware of the predator's heat, the coiling of tension, and his singular scent – a signature of leather, a certain, indefinable musky spice, "Let us dispense with disingenuous protests…" the velvet voice advised, hypnotic and beguiling. "Give me what I want…" he sighed, his nose burrowing into Cloud's hair.

"You don't know what you want," Cloud answered, faltering. He glanced at the glowing eyes that watched him hungrily; and with an unpleasant start, he realized he just might be mistaken about that as the long, powerful fingers – a sword-master's hands – tightened upon his ribs, moving in a slow caress to linger upon his hips.

Sephiroth leaned over him, head tilted, eyes covetous. To Cloud, he seemed poised for savage violence; but then he smiled, and bent to steal a breathless kiss, one hand moving to stroke Cloud's chest, the other pressing the smaller man against the wall. Deftly, he teased; easily, he overwhelmed his prey.

"Invite me," came a husky, sensual murmur. "I'm waiting."

"No…" Cloud gasped, his slender body trembling, pliant and aroused, his eyes slightly dazed.

Sephiroth smiled again and coldly; there was a rustle of feathers as he enveloped Cloud in his wing, his lips lightly brushing and then, with subtle force, taking his quarry's soft, panting mouth, "Wrong answer…" the consummate killer whispered.

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