Author's Notes: I found this while sorting through my files... oh, God. So I decided to finish it. :D
Be sure you know what Gackt looks like in "Illuminati" if you want to better imagine Genesis being genderqueer.
Music: Huoratron's Corporate Occult, Sisen's SaGa, and Skrillex Skrillex Skrillex!
WARNING: Lots of fucks and general bad language, drugs, man/man.
C o r p o r a t e O c c u l t
. . .
"Look what I found."
The white-haired teen opened his palm, revealing three sleek creatures of pulsating green and cold foggy glass. The needles were as long and hard as they needed to be to break through one's intercostal muscles to get to the heart. Crazy things, but all Soldiers went through a period where they practically needed a daily dose to be able to function properly.
But when Mako runs through your veins along with all sorts of interesting alien molecules, these babies were just toys to accelerate the fun.
Angeal folded his arms. "Sephiroth. Just because we're on duty leave doesn't mean we're under the obligation to get too heavily trashed to have any other course of action physically available to us."
The sleek teen whose leathers complimented the crimson of his hair folded his arms too. "And just because we're Soldiers doesn't mean we can't get off our faces every once in a while."
"Elegant," Angeal noted. "I bet you just can't wait to have the district guards pull you out a toxic waste container again."
"But that's what makes us legendary!" Genesis howled with laughter at the memory, glancing over at Sephiroth who offered a grin though he seemed more enraptured by the oily bubbles sliding lazily up the syringes."Swinging swords, training for war, honing our bodies; that's just masturbation. Everybody's capable of looking good. But feeling good is another thing entirely."
"That stuff does not make you 'feel good'," Angeal objected, and before he could open his mouth Genesis tackled him, almost smothering him with his arm around his shoulders.
"Discipline makes you feel good!" the red-head shouted merrily, "Strength training! Yes! Getting up every morning from your perfunctory bed, taking a piss in the perfunctory urinals, grabbing your perfunctory adversary's perfunctory balls in morning training sessions! Yes! It's what we live for as Soldiers, isn't it!"
"Gerroff," Angeal was grumbling with difficulty, nose pressed up against his friend's armpit, "Get off!" He gave a heave, being bulkier than both his friends even at 17, and in an instant Genesis was on the floor, still laughing as Angeal dusted his hands on his grunt pants. Even if he was practically considered First-class stuff, he still liked his old grunt uniform too much to throw it away. "You're mad, Genesis. Just barking mad," he huffed indignantly.
Genesis rolled over on the floor with a "Ha" of satisfaction, stopping when he hit Sephiroth's calves; the silent silver was sitting against the dorm wall. The red-head craned his neck to look round at him.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, comrade?"
Sephiroth's eyes seemed to sliver up in that strange manner, ghostly lashes cutting up the dark green as he gazed at Angeal in a way that the rational man didn't like one bit.
"Oh, yes."
There was a scuffling of leather soles on the squeaky clean floor, and Angeal gave a frightened yelp despite himself as he saw the two bulks of his friends suddenly leaping towards him – black, red, silver, everything blurred as two pairs of supernaturally strong arms locked around his chest and bowled him over on the ground. There was a forearm crushing his nose and a couple of hands in inappropriate places – he tried to twist around to get away from that inadvertent knee that was pressing dangerously close between his thighs, but then a few more forearms came out of nowhere and he found himself spread-eagle on the floor with two demons looming over him, grinning madly.
"You –no – NO PLEASE YOU BASTARDS - " And before he had time to let out another yell, one black-clad arm swung up and down again and –
THUMP.
The needle transpierced his chest, slipping through his ribs and piercing his already over-excited heart. And before he even had time to breathe, his entire torso gave a wild jerk and he threw the others off him as surely as a wild bull would a couple of insane riders – Mako-laced adrenaline coursed green as poison through the sticky passes and trembling walls of his heart, flowing through his veins and soaking his muscles in the wink of an eye and a second later he was on his feet again, yelling and lunging at them like a great ape.
"You inconsiderate SONS OF BITCHES," he roared – laughing as only careless boys would laugh in the face of danger, Sephiroth and Genesis ducked under as his arms swiped through thin air, and crashed through the dorm door. They ran down the corridor, passing bewildered off-duty Soldiers, most of which were much older than them (they were the youngest Second Class ever to have been admitted in the ShinRa corps) and shaking their heads as they watched the stupid young ones going about their stupid business. When they came to the garbage disposal just before the stairway, Genesis threw out a hand and knocked the door open; Sephiroth followed him in and they tumbled into a pile of stinking garbage bags.
"Goddess," Genesis panted, more out of excitement than true fatigue, "Maybe that wasn't such a grand idea."
"Of course it was, since it was yours," Sephiroth countered, grinning impishly at him.
"Oh, my ever-faithful subject," the red-head soliloquized, putting a hand on his heart.
"And being fucking stupid doesn't necessarily stop an idea from being grand," Sephiroth added, but his friend decided to ignore that. Genesis twitched his nose. "Smells," he groaned, before pricking up his ears. "Do you hear him coming?"
There was a great crash and tumult out in the corridor; Genesis sniggered at his friend, who merely smiled again and recovered the syringes from his pocket with a crystalline clink.
"Come on," he said, "Do me."
"I'm afraid I don't have Hojo's expert touch," Genesis lamented, to which Sephiroth stared at him rather gravely.
"Are you serious?"
"No but honestly, I don't see why you get to have more appointments with him than me. I'd love to be as daily trashed as you are."
It wasn't like it wasn't amusing to watch the young silver-haired man wandering the corridors of the ShinRa HQ with his pupils ridiculously dilated and his lips parted as if he was about to pounce on anything that wore tight fabric.
"Don't give me that," Sephiroth sniffed indignantly, "He trashes my body because he seems to think I'm his property. You, however, he seems to respect too much to trash so thoroughly."
"Did I sound like I wanted to be the favourite?" Genesis cried.
"Yes, you did," Sephiroth grinned.
"At least Hojo doesn't infuse my treatment with fucking aphrodisiac like he seems to do yours."
"It's because you don't need it, darling."
"Well neither do you!"
"Are you quite sure of that?" Sephiroth practically purred, "You see, unlike you, I believe it's necessary to weaken me before being able to dominate me."
"Oh, that's just wrong!" Genesis wrinkled his nose delicately, "If you took that out of the laboratory context, however… it would be a different story."
Sephiroth raised his eyebrows at his friend… but then his brow furrowed as he saw Genesis's eyes narrow on the syringes.
"What…"
And then Genesis lunged, with a delirious "Allow me to prove you wrong!" – he grabbed a syringe, and dragged his friend down from the trash bags to the floor where he straddled him and readied the ShinRa-stamped pharmaceutical.
"There was no need to attack me," Sephiroth said, not even struggling.
"I thought you said you needed weakening?" Genesis's eyes glinted.
"Never when you're concerned."
"Now you're weakening me," the red-head smiled.
"I just meant that it's not in your physical capacities to do so."
The smile was replaced by an irritated frown. "Oh, and aren't you just so clever." And then his arm came down and -
THUMP.
… He could only marvel at the expression of pure joy that seemed to light up his friend's fine features; back arched and hands frozen in the air, Sephiroth seemed to enjoy the effects on a much different level than Angeal had. Then again they had sort of forced the man into it. Sephiroth let out a quiet but ecstatic groan as he lay there, eyes closed-
"Look, not that I don't appreciate you squirming like a girl between my thighs, but maybe you could –"
A fist came out of nowhere and caught Genesis right in the gob, impact point from which his entire body sort of flew out of perspective. He found himself sprawled on the floor with Sephiroth looming above him, roles reversed; the silver-haired took the time to pull the syringe from his chest and ready the third.
"I thought you were done soul-searching your sexuality," Sephiroth growled, eyes sparking like severed wires. "Or perhaps you need more help?"
"Ooh, if you wouldn't mind," Genesis answered, and -
THUMP.
• • •
"Would you two stop copulating, please? We're in the process of being kicked out if you hadn't noticed."
They didn't really know how they had gotten from the Second-Class dormitory to the streets, but the darkness was all around them and their steps resonated loud as gunshots as they scrambled down the rest of the stairs that led to the pavement.
"We're not copulating," Genesis objected, though his hands were all over Sephiroth.
"Oh, yeah, no, you were just helping him stand up right weren't you?" Angeal sighed irritably.
"Physical contact," Sephiroth let out in one of those strange out-of-character breaths, "You should try it for once in your life, Angeal."
"Says he who only enjoys being touched when he's so stoned he can't tell which hands are his," Angeal countered.
"Goddess, and I thought it would loosen you up a bit!" Genesis surged off of the last stair and groped at Angeal, practically climbing on the man's back. "Come on."
"I am loosened up," Angeal grumbled, "And I don't like it."
"Awww," Genesis cooed, "Looks like you need a bit of entertaining."
"Maybe you can ask them," Sephiroth put in, and nodded behind them when the two others looked over at him. They were wandering down one of the most frequented streets of the military district; there were neon signs flashing multicoloured strobe lights above their heads, and people wearing stuff that seemed to flash with the same frequency (though that might've just been part of the side-effects). And sure enough, a little group of women were trotting towards them, giggling and looking so severely not-quite-naked that they weren't sure whether it would be polite to ask them how much they were taking since nudism seemed to be the new fashion up here when it got late enough for depravity.
"Sephirooooth," they cried out.
"Ah, attention-stealer," Genesis groaned, to which Sephiroth stated, "Attention-whore", whilst Angeal just stood there thinking they were all fucking idiots, which was probably right.
"Got lost, did you?" the rational one called out to the girls, "The Honeybee's below the plate, you know."
"Fuck you!" They called back, taking turns and tacking on imaginative offensive things.
"Well that wasn't very courteous of you," Sephiroth said, stumbling slightly against Genesis but still managing to maintain a somewhat serious expression.
"Oh? Well it wasn't very courteous to stab me with a fucking needle either, was it," Angeal growled back.
"Felloooows," Genesis cooed, "I think it's high time we cooled down properly. Let's go inbetween the worlds, shall we?"
"Yes, yes, yes," Sephiroth sighed, and Genesis laughed at him affectionately, mumbling something about how sad it was that his friend wasn't naturally that likeable while taking him around the shoulders.
• • •
'In between the worlds' was an expression that signified the actual interior of the plate, between the 'Upper world' and the slums. There was a series of interconnected basements which made up an intricate web of debauchery, which was supposed to be held secret. One portion was entitled to Soldiers and ShinRa employees, and the rest was open to the general population, though children below twenty rarely went because of the strict controls at the entrances. And besides, those who went were those who were of the age where reality begins to kick in and true depression begins to open its maws; this was the place to chase the cobwebs of knowledge and conscience away, this was the place to throw away the white stones that you used to mark your life's path.
You could enter at the establishments that owned the basements, so when the trio strode into the usual bar, the bar owner immediately ushered them into the back room.
"Nice to see you fellows looking like actual masculine men," the man joked, to which Genesis replied, "We won't be for long!", and when Angeal started asking why he'd said that the other two quickly seized him and practically dragged him down the steps so that they wouldn't have to elaborate on that night their friend had been too far gone to remember about.
The music was so loud that pretty soon they'd have to shout directly into each other's ears to be heard; Angeal was frowning as they wandered from the steps towards the crowd, Genesis was laughing with his arm around him, and Sephiroth had his chin up, eyes heavy-lidded and head slightly tilted as though he was silently judging everything around him as worthless-yet-interesting.
"Sephiroth!"
There were small groups of youths scattered around before the actual dancing crowd, and one detached itself from the dark anonymity, several wearing latex and poofy vaporous material and ridiculous accessories.
Angeal was beginning to dread hearing about that night he couldn't remember as he looked at them.
"Remember us?" shouted a pair of twins, the most ridiculously dressed ones of the lot; they looked like sadomasochistic Pierrots, and nobody could've guessed what they truly looked like under all that make up and sequin-arrangement and wigs and general disguise.
"No," Sephiroth said, though he seemed to be visually feasting on them.
The males (well, they seemed to possess a somewhat masculine anatomy) came forward. "We're Third Class- "
"No you're not," Genesis shouted, interrupting them. "You're nobody down here. And so are we."
"Should've maybe dressed up a bit more?" the girls suggested. "If you didn't want to be recognized, that is." They looked the men up and down; Genesis was in his usual red leathers, Angeal had a rather tight-fitting top and grunt pants, and Sephiroth was in his customary black leather trousers and a half-open, silver-dusted shirt.
"We do not do costumes," Angeal stated in a very grave tone, as if anyone who objected would get a whopping.
"He means he doesn't," Genesis grinned, and the girls looked up at him approvingly; they took him and Sephiroth towards one of the black lights that lined the clumsily cut walls.
Angeal watched them go and shook his head, sighing deeply. What on the Planet was he doing here? But the thing was, he asked himself that every night. He wondered if he really wouldn't appreciate there being an absence of nights like this in his life. Someone had to watch out for their stupid arses, anyway. This was probably a necessary evil that he had to go through whilst his friends slowly let go of their youth. It was quite terrible how drugs didn't last on him though, if they even had any effect after the initial electric shock. He did like having his wits about him, and being able to conserve his sense of dignity, but the fact that he was practically always the only sober one was a little grating after a while. Though, he didn't know how they'd achieved it but they had managed to get him unconscious once or twice, so perhaps his metabolism wasn't as frighteningly invincible as that.
When he saw his two friends come back towards him, he had to sigh again; he hated to admit it but Genesis made quite a terrific transvestite. Sephiroth, however, had managed to stop the mutilation from going too far; they'd stuck three red sequins along each cheekbone so that his gaze was underlined with a bloody smatter; a military cap had appeared on his skull, and his throat seemed to be lacerated with strings of black fabric.
"You forgot something," Genesis shouted gleefully, springing up without seeming in the slightest bit ashamed of his heavily khol-outlined eyes, black-painted lips and generally grotesque outfit. He was wearing PVC shorts, for God's sake… and fishnets… Oh, dear. Angeal's hands curled into fists as he looked his friend up and down with a very pitying look on his face. Thigh-high platform heels, gel-spiked hair, sleeveless PVC vest and fishnet sleeves… he couldn't bear to look any longer.
"Genesis…"
The transvestite had a black light pen in his hand, but Sephiroth grabbed his wrist before he could do anything with it.
"Before you go and make my nipples UV-reactive, let me just bring a few additions to your own work of art," he deadpanned, before taking Genesis's face with one hand and etching lines of invisible ink around his left eye. "There you go."
"Please don't write anything demeaning on him," Angeal begged, "I'm afraid I couldn't be seen in your company any more if this goes any further."
"You bloody woman," Genesis snapped at him, to which Angeal couldn't help laughing and saying "Me? Look who's talking!" But then Sephiroth pulled both of them into the crowd, and the press of bodies and sweeping lights swallowed them.
• • •
Green raced through his veins, tainting his blood cells, condensing along the slick insides of his veins and between the fibres of his muscles; like a mist it crept up through his nervous system, weightlessly settling there.
The drug itself was supposed to give you a kick of energy, yet since he was in perfect condition it only served to enhance the world around him, and his own physical capacities. It would've been impossible for him to describe how everything felt, how heightened every sensation seemed, and how he just generally didn't give a fuck because this was like being even more on top of the world than usual.
Not that there was anything remotely special about being something akin to a test subject, when he was actually in the 'laboratory context' as Genesis had put it. But once he was out of there… he couldn't possibly mope about the emotional side-effects of virtually having no childhood to speak of, or being sprayed with ultra-condensed icy water before every 'check-up', or having every part of his body sampled and prodded and violated - because no one was as respected as he was. And for a teenager, that was all one could dream of in a world where everyone was fickle and everyone who rose to any given status of importance was eventually torn down.
He was torn down daily and respected for it – there was a sort of reverse psychology about it, and he liked the fact that everything that could ever happened to him eventually seemed to be balanced out somehow by something positive. It was a rather impersonal feeling, being worthy of respect; he didn't feel like he owed anyone. It was just like that. And he had to say, he rather appreciated it.
Not that this meant that he was vain. Or perhaps he was. It was certainly vain to abuse of certain substances in order to obtain unique sensory experiences such as this. And Gods was it worth it, he didn't care if it was vain; what was the use of analyzing every experience? These nights existed to be felt, not to be thought about.
There was a surge of applause all around them, and the green lights swung over to the next musician. This one looked very queer, and not exactly human; he had multicoloured cotton dreadlocks spilling from his head, mismatching eyes, and what looked like a pink soother clenched between his teeth.
"What the fuck?" Angeal was, to say the least, perplexed, not to mention fighting the urge to block out his ears as the crowd screamed at the creature on the scene. The creature went over to the mixing platforms and started dealing out a heavy bass rhythm, to which everybody started dancing like crazy. Then Angeal's face began truly decomposing as he saw more creatures spilling onto the scene – women in tightly laced corsets, puffy fabric that seemed to mark the absence of a skirt rather than actually be one, and stripy stockings that only accentuated their lack of underwear once your eyes climbed up the stripes, to the garters, to the… skin.
A rather Malkovitchian 'What the fuck' spiraled around his head, alongside 'What am I doing here', as he was shoved around mercilessly by the crowd; he tried to wade his way through to find the pansexual weirdoes that were supposed to be his friends, but as the lights flashed and throbbed over the crowd he could see that it was futile. He tried to wade his way back, but that seemed pretty much impossible too. Fucking hell. Fuck!
It was probably a good thing that he couldn't find the two others, because they were engaged in a certain type of sensory exploration that he… probably wouldn't have understood. The beat was a hypnotic trashy dragging, and there were queer voices reverberating back and forth, studded every now and again by very sexual moans that probably hadn't been picked for their musicality, but that still blended with the music very well. And it made everyone go wild.
Sephiroth no longer had any type of hold on his senses. He had been holding onto them in a rather loose grip, but now the green fairies had drifted up to his brain and he was completely and utterly absent; a creature of pure sensation and mindless bliss. And Genesis, of course, had not known better than to take advantage; it hadn't really been the goal but… well, actually maybe it had.
They were slap bang in the middle of the lurching crowd but neither seemed to care if they were pushed or punched or lunged at by random overly zealous nobodies. Genesis had an arm around Sephiroth's shoulders – his cap had long since been knocked off and his hair fell about in long lanky strands, coming to stick to Genesis' PVC with the static. They jumped to the beat, and every time their feet left the ground both had the sensation of leaving their physical bodies – Sephiroth was laughing a deep, unselfconscious laugh, head thrown back and eyes half-closed. Upon the next couplet of sexual groans in the song, there seemed to be a wild surge of libido throughout the crowd – with the effects of the drug Genesis suddenly felt as though if he didn't fuck someone right now, he would melt away into nonexistence. The fear and exhilaration of it had him completely out of his mind with raw sensation, and before Sephiroth could even react he'd pulled the man's head around by his hair and caught his mouth in a hot, lip-rending kiss.
"The fuck are you doing," the silver growled half-consciously after about ten minutes of mindless making out, his pseudo-resistance only serving as fuel to the redhead's urges.
"Shut the fuck up," Genesis growled back, lips moving against Sephiroth's as he kept a hold of the guy's hair, swaying as they were in the midst of the crowd.
"Get off – my fucking – hair - " He was surprised Sephiroth still had such reflexes even when his mind was a hundred miles underground.
"Kiss me again."
"What – darling," Sephiroth slurred, "Last time was exceptional. I'm not into men."
"The question isn't men, it's me," Genesis smiled, grabbing him around the neck and pulling him down again to thrust his tongue as far as it could possibly go inside the other's man's mouth. But the constant lurching made Sephiroth clamp down his teeth – or perhaps it had been wholly intentional – either way, Genesis broke away with a howl of pain, before swerving around to give Sephiroth a gigantic punch in the face – having no balance whatsoever, the silver fell backwards, arms out as he held onto strange bodies that pushed him the other way again. He fell against Genesis, who caught him around the waist and pulled him along through the sweating, half-naked bodies that lunged and swayed and danced as if they'd all been lobotomized and music was the only thing capable of stirring their bodies.
Sephiroth was in a daze of brushing skin and a delirious succession of musky perfumes, so when he was slammed against a wall he had no idea who was who and what was where – to put oneself in his mind wouldn't be accurate, since he'd lost his, but his physical body felt glorious under the assault of the deep bass and … a mouth? Yes… his arms came around a heaving, writhing body that was lounging against his – there was a burning wetness that seemed to be biting at his mouth, pummeling his lips with a dizzying force that made him hold onto the body for fear of losing balance. He was breathing heavily, panting between kisses – and he could feel his heartbeat pounding against his ribs as the man before him pulled his head to the side by the chin and continued down his neck, biting the oversensitive muscle and making him groan in delight. Then there was this – unbearable, intolerable pressure between his legs as the man pressed a thigh between his – his hand came up to grab the other man's wrist, forcing the man's hand down to the hard plain of his belly, moving down, down till the fingers slipped into his trousers – he yanked the wrist downward when there seemed to be a hesitation, growling with mild insistence. The other man was smiling doggishly.
"Thought you didn't want me," Genesis purred against the silver's throat; looking up, he marveled at how magnificent Sephiroth looked with his head back against the wall, eyes closed, lips parted, shadows trickling to embrace his Adam's apple as his throat extended, completely at the redhead's mercy.
Sephiroth was too far gone to reply – he simply lowered his chin to glare down at him and renewed his request, taking both of Genesis' wrists and forcing them down to his stomach – with a grunt of effort Genesis freed himself and slammed the other man's hands against the wall, mashing his mouth against Sephiroth's again and pressing himself up against the man from the hips upwards.
"You gorgeous creature," Genesis breathed, "All mine."
Sephiroth moaned into his mouth as the redhead bit down on his lower lip, and he sounded so fucking aroused that Genesis couldn't help catching on – unable to stop now that he'd started, he let himself slide down the other man's chest, hands coming back down to take care of the buttons. He let his tongue play over the hollows of Sephiroth's hips, and the man bucked shamelessly against him as he did so – laughing, Genesis continued along the line of Sephiroth's trousers as the buttons came undone.
Sephiroth could hardly control himself – the contact of the other man's moist tongue against the most sensitive parts of him made his heart pound so wildly that it seemed the blood rush would never stop – he didn't even feel his feet touching the ground as he arched his back towards the other man's ministrations, head still thrust back in ecstasy. He felt the tip of that tongue harden and push against his flesh all the more deliciously, and then it came over the bump of his erection, pressed up as it was against his stomach under the pants – the pooling of heat due to the fabric between tongue and skin was driving him mad. Genesis ran his tongue down from head to hilt, before sliding the fabric down and freeing him; in a bewildering surge of sensation Genesis swallowed the head, twirling around it playfully his tongue, before taking him in completely, nose against abs.
Sephiroth let out a wanton cry of delight – the play of the other man's tongue and the pressure of his lips each time he withdrew was too much, too much, it was too – marvelous – it was only a few seconds until he felt the tingling in his veins, the rush of arousal invading his arms and legs and stomach and – he brought up his own forearm and bit down hard as he climaxed, groaning against his bleeding skin as the other hand pressed against the wall to support his weight. Genesis had closed his eyes, hands gripping the other's bucking hips as he felt the bumps moving up the man's shaft; his brow contracted in a frown of concentration as Sephiroth exploded in his mouth.
Flash.
Withdrawing in a fit of panic at the sudden interruption, Genesis looked up, only to see Angeal with his mobile phone pointed at them both. He was white with shock, though a smile curled his lips at the idea that he'd finally be able to exact his revenge. And Genesis laughed at the sight of him… but Angeal didn't care. They'd be sorry in the morning.
• • •
It was glorious.
Genesis had run up to him as they warmed up at the back of the gymnasium, where morning training took place for both Second and First Classes.
"Angeal," he panted as he shed his leathers and sat down to bandage his wrists, wearing combat trousers and not much else. "Angeal, you know I love you."
"No, no, no," Angeal grinned mischievously, "Nothing you might say will stop me, Gen."
"Please," Genesis growled, standing up and trying to intimidate his friend though he was slightly too short to do so.
But it was too late. Sephiroth came in looking like he'd just taken on a truck in broad daylight, walking straight across the floor where everybody was sparring, interrupting a dozen duels who swore at him irritably. Even his hair was in a sorry state of dishevelment, which meant he really hadn't woken up in a merry mood.
He came up to his two friends and cleared his throat, looking very dignified.
"Morning."
Angeal couldn't help himself – he burst out laughing, all dignity forgotten, slapping his thighs and howling at Sephiroth's very serious demeanour. Genesis had his face in his hand, halfway between panic and amusement as he waited to see what would happen. It was inevitable anyway, Angeal always overpowered him if he didn't team up with someone to take him on. Oh, man…
"Just promise you won't be angry with me," he started tremulously, "Whatever photos Angeal might have edited to make it seem like - "
"To make it seem like what?" Sephiroth's eyes dangerously narrowed as Angeal took out his mobile.
"You're going to love this," Angeal smiled, "All hail drugs!"
He showed him.
The sheer walloping that Genesis received thereafter should've knocked him unconscious, had he been a normal man. Instead, he looked up from the floor where he'd fallen as Angeal held back the hysterical silver-haired man, and smiled a toothy, blood-spattered smile.
"You did like it, you know."
• • •