Disclaimer: I don't own these guys, they own me.
Warning: angst, yaoi references
AN: Back and posting again. I was cut off from the net for a while and I started working, so hence the long silence. Fortunately, boring office job gives me bunnies. :P Title snatched from Disturbed. It's amazing and one of the best Seph/Gen songs I have ever heard, so I rec you check it out!
This one is for Dark Seraphim, her prompt was cars, naughty things happening in cars, anything related to cars, and this is what came out of it. Hope you'll like it dear!
His footsteps are quite audible in the great, rigid emptiness of the basement, even their echo is furious, just like him. Usually, it would make him feel better, but he doesn't even notice it now, gloved hands balling into fists and blue-green eyes burning so bright one could probably read by their light.
In the back, there are three cars parked separately, all sleek curves and immaculate glossy surfaces, the best of the best Shinra can provide, and that quite means the best on the entire Planet. Still, there is not a hint of admiration in Genesis' eyes as he stops by the classy red convertible, fishes the keys out of his pocket and opens the front door.
His hand is suddenly grabbed, black leather on red.
"Forget it," the feline, velvet voice commands sternly, and the redhead's lips spread into something that more resembles a snarl than a smile as he turns around to face the other, voice dripping acid.
"You don't get to order me around, general."
"Oh, but I think I do, songbird. And I'm not letting you drive like this," the voice is an unmistakable fuck-with-me-not, and Genesis' eyes get that fire to them that heralds hell unleashed, but it dies down the moment Sephiroth slips into the car with the keys. "I'm driving."
"Oh, like it wasn't you who had landed us in Medical last time," Genesis remarks with so much sarcasm, but nevertheless taking the passanger seat.
„Oh, like it wasn't you who couldn't keep his hands to himself if my memory serves me well," and that it indeed does, but it's not like Genesis would accept defeat that easily, even if deep inside he is glad that he can just sit back and watch things pass him by and doesn't have to run alone, because there is nothing that terrifies him more.
Especially when his world is covered in an intricate spider web of cracks.
"I didn't really hear you complaining," he flicks a stray strand of his hair out of his face irritatedly, catching the side glance Sephiroth gives him from the corner of his eye.
"Then perhaps you shouldn't, either," the silver general starts up the engine and immediately lowers the roof, knowing that's how Genesis likes it.
The sun is almost blinding as they leave the semi-darkness of the parking floor behind, the sky gradually becoming bluer and bluer as they leave the city behind. If any higher-ups had any idea, they would probably throw a fit, but some things are just far more important for them to care.
It's workday and while the Midgar streets are swarming with traffic, the country roads are practically abandoned, something Genesis is silently grateful for too. There is nothing surrounding them but grassy plains and timidly bowing trees here and there and sky, sky, sky, reaching into the endless horizon and pouring gold down on them.
It's so much easier to breathe here.
Normally, Genesis would ask the man on his left to go faster and faster until the engine is roaring like a real beast and the wind tears at his bright auburn locks with hungry fingers and lies flat against his cheeks, fading into the eternal distance.
Not today though. He notices the short glances from Sephiroth, of course he does, and he knows his unusual silence worries the other man, but still he turns his head away, not saying anything. This pace they are going at is fast enough but still safe. So is silence.
He hates it though, hates needing it, this small feeling of security, himself for being so weak and his companion for providing it, but most of all, he hates the man who made him need it.
Angeal, of all people. How ironic.
Only the protesting sound of deforming metal makes him realise he is gripping the door with far too much force, and he lets go of the abused material as if it has burned his fingers.
Sephiroth opens his mouth to say something, but in the end doesn't. He knows his lover far too well to know anything he could say would only fuel his anger, and even though he usually would deliberately go for that, to bring forth that fire that makes the redhead so captivating, this is clearly not a time like that.
Maybe, if he remains silent, a little time will be enough for Genesis to calm down. Quick to anger, it is just as easy to make him smile. Though, he has a feeling this isn't one of those times either. As the scenery around them starts to get more and more familiar, the redhead just seems even tenser, nails digging into his palms so hard they would leave red marks weren't it for the gloves.
Perhaps bringing him to their most cherished secret place wasn't the brightest idea after all. But they need to talk undisturbed and without corporal sleuths listening in to every word that they say. Probably that's why Genesis didn't even bother to voice any objections, and that silence speaks volumes to someone who knows him as well as Sephiroth does.
The silver haired man turns left, leaves the road at a place where there is no sign of any trail between trees that grow densely here, and the convertible protests by shaking on the uneven ground until they reach a clearing leading down to a small, clear lake. He stops the car there, turns the engine off and pockets the keys. Genesis is already out of the vehicle, and Sephiroth silently joins him in leaning to the hood of the car.
"Genesis," he sighs, shakes his head glancing at the other, whose eyes are fixed on the glistening surface of the water and the gracefully bowing reeds.
"How dare he do this?" the redhead almost growls, voice dripping fury, seeking outlet, waiting for just a crack to break free, like a volcano about to erupt and scorch the very earth around it. It's been a long time since Sephiroth had seen his hot-tempered lover so pissed, but most likely it's not the last time. Being around a pissed Genesis usually means great make-up sex, but unfortunately, this doesn't seem to be a likely option right now, because for the first time in a long while, Genesis is not pissed at him.
"Why do you have to do this?"
"Well, I think that's quite obvious!" Genesis snaps, harsher than he intended, but damn, it feels good. "Sorry for not thinking that my lover fucking someone else behind my back is all right!" he lets out an annoyed huff of breath, crosses his arms, lips pressed into a thin line. "Angeal, always the noble moralist! But I should've known, should've seen through that facade right from the start! All that 'he's my protegé' and 'you know I would never do something like that' bullshit, and save myself the trouble of being surprised to go home to find him in our bed with that little snot!"
"Genesis..."
"To think that I believed all that, believed that he cared," the redhead goes on unperturbed, hands balling into fists once again and voice dropping down to a whisper, and there is just so much even a war hero known for his nerves of steel can take.
"Genesis!" Sephiroth raises his voice, and that shuts the smaller man up immediately, something so rare it practically never happens, on both of their fronts. "When we first came here, was Angeal with us? Lately, when we sneak down to the VR in the dead of night to spar, do we invite him? And yet who is there every damn time to save your sorry ass from the consequences of your careless actions? Who is taking you in every damn time we have a fight to listen until you finished the last word you had to say?" He stops, voice now calmer, gentler seeing the narrow shoulders starting to shake, invisible to anyone else but his enhanced eyes. "If you think he doesn't care, you are a fool, Genesis."
"That's exactly why..."
...it hurts so much.
He would never say that, never, but he doesn't even have to, because Sephiroth knows, understands all too well, because, even though Genesis seems to have forgotten, he is in quite the same shoes, except refusing to give Angeal hell for something that was just as inevitable as fortunate, their black haired lover finally finding someone that means to him what Genesis and Sephiroth does to each other. He knows exactly that loss is what his mercurial lover fears so much, even when there is no other possible outcome for them but to gain.
It'll just take time to make him see it.
"How about we go home, sit down and talk it over like the serious, reasonable men we are rumoured to be?" he offers with a small, hopeful curve of his lips, lifts one hand to give Genesis' shoulder a light, reassuring squeeze, and the redhead blinks away unshed tears with a ghost of a smile.
"That is Angeal's line."
"I know," the silver general sais, green eyes now warm and caressing like the summer breeze around them.
"Remember what we did the first time we came here?" Genesis suddenly asks, looks at him with mischief in his eyes.
"We were sparring some half a mile from here and you managed to burn down a considerable amount of the woods," Sephiroth's lips curve into a taunting smile.
"But after that?" the redhead narrows his eyes smugly, pushes the infamous red coat off his shoulders.
"You mean what we did in the lake?" the silver general puts on his most innocent look that makes Genesis snort every single time with just how utterly wrong it looks on him.
"I did say we must repeat that sometime. How about now?" Genesis smiles, kicks his boots off and starts walking towards the water, and having no better option, Sephiroth chuckles and follows, hands already on the numerous buckles keeping his clothes in place.