Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one.
Summary: Sephiroth goes missing for days. No one can explain what's happened to the silver haired general. This leaves others questioning his absence, most notably messing things up for Genesis.
Warning: Rated M for Yaoi and dark themes. A mild touch of blood and violence if you insist. Don't like, don't read; you were warned.
Author note: This is a collaboration between me and the awesome Counterfeit God. It was impossible to get it done without your help, I hope you know that; and I would have never guessed how it'd turn out. Thank you, dear.
I apologize if there are any typos. I hope you all enjoy reading.
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The metal autopsy table was frigid and unyielding against his spine, and it stunk of chemicals. He could barely keep his eyes open for the bright lights, which glared down on him mercilessly until his vision was clouded with hazy, white circles. Even when he closed his eyelids to shield his sensitive eyes, he could still see them dancing amongst the black, like misplaced halos.
He let out a muffled groan of pain when he tried to shift, to take pressure off the shoulder that was laced with a wicked, relentless kind of pain. It was deep in the tissue, that pounding ache, and he could feel it spreading to encompass even his lower back. Even turning his head was seemingly impossible for his weakened form. He couldn't escape the lights.
He could hear a drip, wet and sticky sounding, like something thick, something he should recognize, but his unfocused mind could not keep a hold on the thought, and it slithered away like so many others had. All he could feel was pain. It was an old companion, a friend even, the only one that had ever seemed to remain true.
He could hear voices. They were low and almost imperceptible, but they were there. He struggled to listen, to focus on something, anything, but his hearing seemed to fade in and out, making his head pound.
Get up!
Another moan as he uselessly attempted to rise. His limbs did not seem to be his own, completely stiff and unresponsive. The unusual sensation of panic began to edge at his consciousness, like cold, clumsy fingers, causing him to grind his teeth in protest. The thought of not being able to move was almost too much. He wanted to struggle-to fight-but his body was nothing but a shell, incapable of obeying. Even his fingertips would not flex. He tried his feet, but again was met with nothing. It was as though he was a floating consciousness, and given his lack of clarity, he might have believed it had it not been for the pain.
You feel, his mind rationalized, penetrating the oppressive fog. Your body is in no state to respond.
The thoughts calmed him instantly, even as his alien pupils rolled to the back of his skull as he let out a silent scream of agony. It was white, bleached and pure, like bone left in the sun. There was nothing but pain and pain was all he was. It was like a switch had been flipped, and he'd gone from existence to something beyond it.
"If you give him more-"
There was a tearing sound, like wet paper. Something stabbed at his throat, but was lost in the chaos, void of meaning. He arched, completely lost to his body's will, his back rising off the metal by several inches as bones cracked and split like dried tinder. He saw flashes of something, someone, but the name was lost in translation, holding only emotional meaning.
Dying. It was his only thought.
"It makes no difference! It will emerge again and again!" the voice was angry and grating. "Give him all of it!"
The white was suddenly edged with black, and the odd sensation of panic returned. Something in him screamed for him to stay, not to recede into the welcoming lack of feeling. It was important, or it should have been, but his reasoning was fading, encompassed in the white-black, his new hopeless reality.
What does it matter? He wanted to argue, but had no strength left. He couldn't fight. Without fight, what was he? What purpose could he possibly serve?
But that voice... It was so familiar. Another pinprick, blending seamlessly into the black. It was as though he was peering up from inside a rabbit hole, the corners of his world obscured. He had lost sight, he had thought, but the realization came that he had not truly lost it, only been so overwhelmed as to not see. It was there, it had always been there, he had just been looking somewhere else.
The flash again. The name teased him, rolling up his throat only to be choked off by an inhuman sound. Something light had drifted onto his face, and he focused on it, on the foreign sensation of something not pain. But it disappeared as soon as it had come.
The edges were lightening. Something was stirring. He wanted to fight. He had vowed to himself to never die without one, yet here he was, dying, his body useless to him, just another enemy to be overthrown.
He could hear a sound, loud and terrible, making his ears thrum hard enough that he wondered if they might bleed. His back made contact with cool metal, and it was soothing. He realized he could no longer lay flat, that something was obstructing him. He wanted out. Anger was building at his helplessness. It was quickly converting into an ill sort of rage, one that seemed to emanate from the core of him. There was no reasoning behind it besides a deep instinct, borne of something primal and animal that he rarely allowed freedom.
Dying.
The thought flitted through again, and something surged through his veins, hot and sharp, as though he were filled with acid. Each beat of his heart brought a new wave of the horrendous burn, but again he could not cry out. His hand clenched. His fingernails dug into his palm, and a rush of elation slid to the back of his head, where it pooled for a moment.
Then he was off the table. His vision was too sharp. It was glaring and he found himself shying from the light, but he was standing. It was a horrible stagger, but he didn't register its lack of grace; he cared for nothing but the fact that he was not laying prone any longer.
There was a crunch, something wet in his hand, with hard parts and soft ones, and something warm dripped down his skin. There was screaming. Metal clanged to the floor, obnoxiously loud, so much so that he brought his hands to his ears flinching and doubling over from the extreme stab of pain. There was more pain then, as something crackled in the air, burning insistently at his skin. With a flick of a wrist it was gone. Something brushed the edge of his vision, making him step back. Black and soft, and not at all right, though he wasn't sure what was so wrong about it. Disoriented, he blinked repeatedly as he eyed the room, searching for escape, as though it had only just occurred to him.
Freedom.
Then there was a stab again. He tore at it with his hands, but to no avail. Suddenly, the world turned on its axis. He fell to his knees, fingers curling in the warmth they found slathered onto the cold tiles. Another shot of pain. He growled like an animal cornered, trying to stand once more, but failing, his fingers struggling to find purchase on the wet ground. He crawled instead, going toward the pain's source, mind intent on nothing else.
More pain. Falling. The cold, unyielding floor. An expanse of beautiful crimson.
Freedom...
His view from the floor was marred by a single black feather that laid carelessly in the muck, sleek and elegant. He was struck by the thought that it was somehow out of place.
A moment later, the black took him.
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He closed his eyes.
A single tear rolled down his cheek, leaving a damp trail in its wake.
No, He couldn't believe it. It was impossible.
Thud, thud, thud, thud...
The rhythm of their footsteps echoed through the sterile bright corridor.
Aside from the heavy scent of antiseptic that burned his senses, there was something wrong. He could feel it entirely but paid it no heed.
"He's alright, Gen." As though sensing his uneasiness, Angeal tried to assure him, his blue eyes focused ahead of them, the thin pressed line of his lips breaking into a faint smile.
It was forced. Genesis could see it.
Rounding a corner, they approached the door. A shudder ran down his spine as Angeal swiped his keycard.
He didn't feel good about this.
Unlike the corridor, the lights in the spacious hall were dim. Lab assistants moved around in a flutter of white lab coats, barely acknowledging them.
'Titles don't matter here,' he reminded himself.
Angeal's posture became stiff, making him look toward the very source of unease.
Professor Hojo.
There was a hideous grin on his lips as he looked at them, dismissing the assistant who had informed him of their arrival with a wave of his hand.
"Hehehe, what brings you here?"
Angeal was about to open his mouth when Hojo interrupted him, turning to walk toward some room, probably his office.
"You must be Sephiroth's friends, I assume."
"Yes, professor. Do you know where we can find him?"
The emotion that shook his friend's voice kept him from speaking. Was it worry? Anxiety? His hands balled into fists.
"How should I know? He's you're comrade in arms." The old man turned around, taking off his bloodied latex gloves and threw them in an odd-looking bin in the corner of his room.
Azure eyes were still riveted on the bin. His heart was beating unusually quickly in his chest.
"Sephiroth was sent to a mission five days ago. He called me the day he had returned but from then, he's just disappeared. I... We..." Angeal paused, looking at him before looking at the man who sat comfortably in his chair with an unsettling smile on his lips. His friend looked troubled, probably stuck between lying, to save Sephiroth further trouble, or to tell the truth.
That was it.
In a red blur, Genesis was there, yanking the man from the collar of his lab coat and holding him a few inches above the ground. To that, the smile on the professor's lips only grew.
"Goddess damn you, where is Sephiroth?" Genesis inquired, his usually melodious voice a dangerous hiss.
"Hahaha. It seems Hollander's pets have taken a liking to my little pet." The elder threw his head back, the grating laugh fuelling redhead's anger.
Why was he so angry?
"You..." He was mustering all his energy to punch the professor straight into hell when he heard it.
"He's dead."
It was like the time was frozen itself. A heavy silence fell in the room.
He was paralyzed. Denial was the only thought that rang loudest and clearest in his dazed mind.
'He's dead... He's dead... He's dead...' He repeated in his head, not able to grasp the meaning.
How was it possible? Sephiroth, dead?
The corners of his lips were twitching upwards. It was the most hilarious joke he'd ever heard. Sephiroth and dead didn't go together in the same sentence.
He threw his head back, laughing. It must be joke. Hojo was playing with them to see how they'd react.
Slender fingers tightened around the skinny throat, threatening to crush his wind pipe.
The laughter died as though it had never been there followed by a grimace as Genesis noticed the mild shock the man was trying to hide.
"I didn't know you had such a good sense of humor, professor, but I'm afraid I'm in no mood for your humorless jokes. Where is Sephiroth?" His voice was barely audible, the anger tingeing it.
The goddamned professor with his sadistic smile was back. "I told you, he's dead. Why would I joke about such a matter, when Sephiroth is-..."
Genesis almost threw him away, not even bothering to look where the man fell.
"Damn you." He almost kicked the door open, azure eyes taking in the doors that occupied the wall in front of him.
"Where are you going, Genesis?" Angeal's question fell on deaf ears.
There was a strange feeling inside him, something urging him to search, like some monster craving for blood. His frame was shaking as he pushed the doors open one by one, until he was standing in front of the exact same door Hojo had come out of minutes ago.
He pressed his shaking hand on the cold immaculate surface, taking a deep breath. He opened the door.
Another icy tear followed in the same trail on his emotionless face.
He knew it was it, he knew it but the sight that greeted his eyes was far from anything logically possible.
Mako hung heavy in the air, overriding the smell of antiseptic.
Blood. Lots of dark blood.
It was everywhere; on the floor, on the hideous tools that lay haphazardly here or there, on the metal bed...
On the black leather, on the silver pauldrons that had fallen by the bed.
It was two weeks that no one knew what had befallen the silver haired General. And despite what Hojo had told them, despite what his eyes had witnessed, he knew it wasn't possible.
He wouldn't accept it until he saw his lifeless corpse.
"Ah, General."
The old man's voice brought him out of his thoughts. Pushing the chair aside, he stood up, hastily wiping the damp trail with his bare hand.
Forcing a smile, albeit faint, on his lips, he greeted the elder.
"Professor." He nodded his head, mostly in respect.
He didn't like anything related to labs but out of the three professors, he liked and respected Gast more than he did the other two, especially Hojo.
Seating himself in the chair on the other side of the circular table, Gast put his glasses on the cold metal surface.
"How are things going?" The professor started, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking at Genesis.
He wasn't looking back, instead he was looking though the thick glass of the picture-window that occupied the wall surrounding the cafeteria. He decided to remain silent.
"You seem very tired. I assume something has been bothering you." Again, Gast tried to make him say something.
The answer however, he wasn't sure about. He never believed himself capable of doing such a thing; caring for someone aside from his childhood friend and himself. Especially since that person seemed to be the missing silver haired SOLDIER.
Their friendship wasn't an easy one from the beginning. It always bordered on extremes, never in between. So why was Sephiroth of so much importance now? Why did he try so hard to get missions where they had sent the silver haired to see what had happened there? Why was he letting it do this to him?
"Gast, I..." He was about to voice it out, but stopped himself. He couldn't. Whatever was happening to him was his own business. He had too much pride to allow him the luxury of sharing his burden. It was his and his alone.
"Sephiroth is missing." He paused, tearing his gaze from the window."For two weeks." The elder seemed startled."Hojo says he's dead, but it's obvious he's not telling the truth. I think he's doing something."
There was a shadow of sadness clouding Gast's eyes as his features turned thoughtful.
"Let me get this straight. You're saying that Hojo is experimenting on Sephiroth?"
Genesis nodded subconsciously, suddenly fearing the question he knew would follow.
"He can't do that without killing himself if it wasn't on Sephiroth's volition."
Silence hung around them, communicating the same question both of them feared voicing.
Had Sephiroth let them experiment on him?
A waiter brought a cup of steaming coffee for Gast.
It left them with two options. Either Hojo had somehow managed to restrain Sephiroth or whatever the mad scientist was planning to do, the silver haired was complying with his wishes. And he knew that both he and Gast didn't like to believe in the last one.
"I will find out about it, don't worry. As the head of the science department, whatever experiments they might be running should first pass before my eyes."
To that Genesis only smirked but said nothing. As much as he respected the man, but sometimes, just sometimes Gast was very naive.
They spent about an hour together, Gast mostly talking about the things he had seen during his expedition around the world while Genesis listened, albeit unenthusiastically, halfheartedly memorizing every bit of information that seemed useful, both in war tactics or just knowledge.
His mind was wandering, processing everything that could give him some clue. The company was far too tranquil for Sephiroth's death. He was Shin-Ra's prized poster boy. However the old man might keep the information from spreading to not make people panic. With the war still raging, it would be a huge disadvantage.
Whatever had happened to Sephiroth that was the reason they had kept everyone in the dark. But he was determined to figure it out.
He knew the company far too well to believe its inept lies.
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It was late at night, he had just returned to his quarters after training a squad. He took off his coat, throwing it on his black leather sofa as he went to take a shower.
He had just turned on the tepid spray when he heard his phone ringing. Turning off the water, he draped a towel around his body as he rushed outside, nearly slipping on the tiles.
Looking around, he located the ringing but couldn't find the device.
It was Gast's voice speaking through the answering machine."General, I... There's no need for you to worry. Everything's fine, I assure you. Just wait a little longer and everything would be fine."
Just as he was going to grab the phone, the line went dead.
Beep, beep, beep, beep...
"Damn it, Gast. What's going on?"
The old man's voice was different from how it was earlier in the morning. It lacked the usual playfulness. It was tired, flat, monotonous.
"You're hiding something."
There was something very wrong that even Gast didn't want them to know.
There were knocks on the door.
Cursing under his breath, Genesis loosened his vice-like grip on the phone before dropping it on the sofa.
Seeing the prized member of the Turks, he smirked. He let the mechanical door open with a swish.
"Tseng." He acknowledged with a weary yet amused expression on his face.
"General." The Turk's posture was tense.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Genesis leaned against the doorway, blocking the raven haired man's way.
"No, sir. I'm here to give you the reports you had asked me for; regarding the activities in the area General Sephiroth had been assigned two weeks ago."
Always detailed. He couldn't resist the sigh that passed his lips as he again was reminded of the unusually long period of his friend's absence.
"Tell me, Tseng." His azure eyes fixed on the Turks dark eyes. "You don't have any information about the situation, have you?"
"No sir, why wou-…"
Genesis cut him mid-sentence. "So you're telling me that the Turks don't know where Sephiroth is?"
"Yes, sir."
Another ringing filled the apartment; Genesis looked in the direction of the sound. Closing his eyes, he dismissed the irritation that threatened to overtake his mood.
"Thank you, Tseng. Have a good night." He said with a false grin, closing the door without bothering to hear the Turk's next words. In fact, Tseng had been much of a help to him, bringing him the reports, even personally transporting him to the site when off duty, but he couldn't stop himself from doubting. Turks were always closer to the president than they were. They must know all about this.
Perhaps, Tseng wasn't helpful for nothing. Even the thought made a shiver run down his spine.
If there was anything left related to Sephiroth, they wouldn't let him get the information so easily, now would they? They knew that he was wasting his time. And they let him.
Growling deep in his throat, he walked toward the couch, taking his PHS from under his coat.
"Hey Angeal. How's everything-…" A tired smile crept to his lips but it was brief, soon replaced by a frown that creased his brow. His friend had just been assigned on a mission, how could he… "Where?" His long hurried strides carried him toward the bathroom again as he hastily began drying his wet body, tossing the fabric in the tub. "I'm going there."
With that he flipped his phone shut, opening the closet in his bedroom to get a fresh set of his attire.
The files Tseng had brought him were left forgotten on the glass coffee table.
In less than a quarter, he was ascending the tall tower of Shin-Ra toward the labs.
They had found him.
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Genesis pounded on the door twice, but knowing Hojo, it wasn't enough to bring down the door. Activating his materia, he let the fire melt it down.
Walking through the sizzling and crackling metal frame, he watched the silver haired man, his features calm despite the fire that was burning inside him.
"You've been here all along…" His voice trailed off, a grimace marring his features.
"Obviously," Sephiroth answered darkly, his gaze holding no amusement as his emerald eyes flicked to the damaged doorway where smoke was wisping out from the abused metal.
"What are you doing here, Genesis?"
His tone had a biting edge to it, and he was sitting stiffly, looking out of place in his strange lab garb. They were little more than hospital scrubs of a sickly green color that made the General appear all the more pale…
One fiery eyebrow arched, confusion flashing on his face before it was hidden quickly. "What am I doing here? What am I doing here?" He let a hollow laugh escape his lips, "Isn't it obvious?"
"I don't know," Sephiroth answered honestly, looking worn. There were dark patches beneath his eyes, and his arms were crossed loosely over his chest.
He moved away from the cold steel of the exam table, stepping closer to the redhead, his footfalls silent, and his feet bare.
There was still that sensation of challenge about him, and his very presence was as oppressive and overwhelming as ever.
His hands were trembling, as were his lips. His whole frame was trembling with unadulterated rage. He started pacing up and down the room. Maybe it could calm him down. "Calm down... Calm down..." He was murmuring under his breath.
He stopped, a few feet away from Sephiroth.
His eyes darted up and down his frame, taking a subconscious notice of everything, but it was all for distraction. He couldn't look into those green eyes.
All hell would break loose...
"Goddess damn you..." He hissed.
"Don't tell me this was a rescue mission," Sephiroth said mockingly, with a slight tilt of his head. His look was predatory, and his pupils narrowed at his friend's curse.
"Stop mocking me, Sephiroth." He pronounced the word with as much venom as he could."I... We've been looking for you every day, nonstop, even on missions and you..." He took a deep breath but it didn't help him.
"I always thought that you hated labs, but I'm starting to believe you always enjoyed it."
"Enjoyed it?" Sephiroth repeated, allowing his incredulousness to seep through his veneer of cold. "You think I like it here?" he asked, laughing lowly, humorlessly. "Yes, Genesis, this is most certainly my idea of paradise. I enjoy being prodded like a test tube experiment, and I spend my days purposefully making your life difficult," he said with anger, his lips a thin line. He was finding it difficult to keep his calm. Weariness had long ago overcome him, and he could count on one hand the hours of sleep he had since entering the labs.
"You're a fool," he observed quietly, hatefully.
He knew it was wrong, his misdirected hatred, but he could scarcely control it. Genesis, always thinking he was needed, that he, Sephiroth could not go a day without him. Genesis was dependent, and the General found that sad, despite the fact that part of him was grateful that the redhead cared enough to even search for him.
He tried to remember when anyone had ever cared. Angeal? The last person he would have expected was Genesis. The redhead was icy at his core, something Sephiroth had learned long ago. He always had motives, which made the General perpetually suspicious of his actions.
But was there a motive? There must have been. Sephiroth could not bring himself to believe otherwise.
Sephiroth's remark echoed in his head, like a blow banging against his consciousness."Yes, Sephiroth. I'm a fool. I'm a fool because you didn't even bother to call me after you came back from your fucking mission only to disappear for two weeks without any trace." A single tear rolled down his face, his voice rising in volume."I was a fool for searching for you, losing hours of my beautiful life while you let them poke and prod you."
Sephiroth was very still, his eyes tracing the single tear making its descent down his friend's perfect face.
"I was a fool not to believe Hojo when he told me you're dead." With that he turned around, striding back toward the corridor.
"Genesis," Sephiroth called quietly. He took a step in the direction of the door, his expression emotionless, despite the turmoil that was shaking him to the very center of his being.
"Wait..."
He stood, his head drooped. He should go. Why did he have to wait when all Sephiroth did was mock him?
"Why did it matter to you that I was gone?" Sephiroth asked in the barest of whispers.
He tilted his head, glancing over his shoulder through the veil of auburn tresses.
Sephiroth was standing there, in the lab garb.
All the more vulnerable than he ever imagined possible.
"Because I cared..." And you proved me that I shouldn't have.
Sephiroth looked at the floor, frowning, his breathing more heavy than he liked. His silver hair tickled at his fingertips, and he pushed it away thoughtlessly. It was a long time before he allowed his eyes to focus once again on his friend's form.
"I'm sorry," he stated simply."I've been down here a long time. I didn't mean to…" He let out a rough sigh that was nearly a growl."I don't know how to do this. You must know that by now."
Sephiroth turned his back, laying his hands flat on the chilled exam table. His shoulders were tense, and his eyes bored into the scratched, shimmering surface.
"No, Sephiroth, I don't know. And I'm sorry doesn't suffice. You hurt that fool more than in one way." He started walking again, closing his eyes. He had to stifle the voice that begged him to stop, he had to shut down his mind and feelings, or he'd be trapped here.
"Don't leave," Sephiroth demanded, his anger resurfacing as he turned back in the direction of his friend. He hated how he sounded, he hated it so much, he wished to run Masamune across his wrists in penance. How dare he sound so weak?
He was struggling to maintain his strict control, but he could see that Genesis' emotions were genuine, and something inside him was reacting.
He jerked as he walked, Sephiroth's demand like a shot through his spine. He nearly doubled over, leaning his clenched hand to the wall as his whole frame shook. He clasped a hand to his mouth to stifle a sob that threatened to break free, before walking again. His graceful strides more like a hurried stagger he barely could manage.
Sephiroth's hearing easily picked up the sound, and something stabbed in his chest. His breathing came out ragged and felt like fire as it emerged from his throat.
Genesis moved quickly, but it was not fast enough. Sephiroth easily caught up to him, grabbing him by the shoulder and roughly spinning him around.
He had to know that it was real. He had to know that it was true, that he was not imagining it.
His pride... His pride... He couldn't let Sephiroth steal that from him.
Without looking at him, the redhead tried to push him away, to free himself.
"Don't, Genesis," Sephiroth breathed, trying to keep his hand on Genesis arm from shaking, lest his friend notice.
"Let me go!" He almost yelled, anger building up inside him.
"I didn't know," Sephiroth said softly."I thought that you..." He stole himself for a moment, his next words coming out through bared teeth, "I thought that you hated me."
Genesis knew it was futile. He was hopeless.
Sephiroth's eyes were searching, but he could not see the redhead's face, as it was obscured by his hair. There was a strange, alien sensation of panic rising within him, as he wondered if he was making a terrible mistake, exposing himself to this man, this man that could easily turn into a monster. They were enemies, weren't they? Had they ever truly been friends?
Angeal had sealed them together, it had seemed, yet here they were standing in a darkened corridor of the labs.
Angeal is not here, Sephiroth reminded himself. Genesis is the one who came for you.
"Let me go, Sephiroth..." He whispered, his voice weary."Please..."
He had never felt like this. He wanted Sephiroth to hold him back in place, not let him go, as much as he wanted to break free.
He could feel tears running freely down his face now, and he lowered his head even more. He feared this, his hopelessness.
"No," Sephiroth snarled, his temper rising, his disbelief coming to the fore. "Why did you come here?" he repeated, his voice growing louder. "Answer me!" he shouted, nearly coming undone by the sight of his friend's tears. "I need to know," he added, almost too quietly for anyone but himself to hear. But he knew Genesis heard.
The General's hardened gaze softened, and his grip became slack.
As he waited for a response, his heart painfully insistent in his chest, making him feel an ache throughout his body that had nothing to do with physical pain.
Why do I feel this way? Sephiroth cursed himself.
"I told you, now let me go." He whispered, yanking his shoulder free.
"Don't," Sephiroth said once again, as though it would somehow change things.
He knew he was waiting. He knew as he walked away, his pace slow, too very slow for the part of him that wanted to run away.
He was waiting for Sephiroth to come and yank him from his shoulder again. But he knew it was a fool's hope anyway. His friend wouldn't tear at his pride because of him.
"No one has ever cried for me," Sephiroth said softly, his eyes glazed with liquid. No tears fell. "And why would they?" he finished, his tone full of a hopelessness that he always kept hidden away.
He knew that later, he would blame both himself and his friend for this. He would blame Sephiroth at wounding his pride, he knew he would. But now, he couldn't afford thinking about it as Sephiroth's reply rang through the empty corridor.
"Why did you mock me then?"
Sephiroth found it difficult to level his gaze at his friend. "Because I couldn't believe it. Because no one has ever come to find me," he answered truthfully, swallowing to keep his voice steady, certain, as it was meant to be.
"Not even Angeal," he added, his look becoming pained.
"Hojo..." He paused, biting his lip to keep his voice from trembling, keep the sob back down in his throat. "Hojo told me you're dead..."
"I never believed him. Neither did 'ngeal... at least for my sake."
"Angeal didn't come here," Sephiroth observed. "But you did."
The General shook his head, as if to empty it of the barrage of thoughts that were making it difficult for him to gather his words.
He wanted to turn and go, go back to the cold, apathetic lab, where he knew nothing but pain and despair. He didn't like the way Genesis' tears made his hands shake, or the way the expression in the man's eyes made his chest constrict.
"I was worried about you."
Genesis couldn't say more than this. He had a very bad feeling about this. He knew he had showed him too much. Enough to make him vulnerable. And he knew that Sephiroth would never stop taking advantage of those weaknesses, those mistakes that were made unintentionally.
Why did being around him make him feel this way? As much as he was afraid of expressing himself, he couldn't stop himself doing so. It felt like a constant war between two parts of him that Sephiroth's presence brought out their differences.
"I know," Sephiroth responded with a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly, as he felt the tiredness sapping the life out of his very bones. Even that small show of weakness made the darker part of him burn with self-hatred. "What I said," he started, unable to look away from Genesis' tear-stained face. His hand rose slightly, as he contemplated something, but it quickly fell to his side fruitlessly as his pride washed over him in a vengeful wave. He wasn't sure he had it in him.
"I'm glad you came here," he said instead.
He stood by his friend silently, never having felt so exposed. Even lying half-dead and naked on Hojo's exam table as the scientist cut into him with a scalpel had never felt so painful.
"What's he done to you?" Genesis asked, his face emotionless, but his voice betraying him, like always.
He made an attempt to grab Sephiroth's hand, but stopped, looking away.
"There was a lot of blood... Your blood."
Sephiroth laughed, a dark and hollow sound. Genesis' movement had not been lost on him, but like one another, neither could not seem to complete the motion. Comfort, is what it would have been, caring. But even such a simple act as bringing his hand to his friend's face was too much for Sephiroth to handle. He had never been one to offer any sort of consolation, physical or otherwise, and it confused him that the urge came to him now, during such a strange time.
The laughter confused him, made him look at Sephiroth quizzically.
His hands balled into fists as he thought about the answer. Was he laughing at him? Was it all a game he was playing all the time? The awkward silence was unnerving.
"As you can see, I am not dead," his tone lacked its usual mocking quality. He shook his head once more, silken strands of molten silver catching on his shoulder. He was lost in thought, remembering being surrounded by crimson, and the rising horror that all that liquid, all that blood, had been his own.
"Though, I think I may have been close to it. Why Hojo spread such lies, I can't tell you. He is a sadist who feeds on others' pain. His motives are clear only to himself," Sephiroth commented, not bothering to hide his disgust.
"He forced you into this, didn't he?"
"Down here? What other choice would I have?" Sephiroth answered with venom, though it was not directed at his friend. His eyes were unfocused, and his jaw was tight with tension.
"We can run away now." Genesis looked toward the direction he had come from earlier. He smiled gently before looking at Sephiroth.
The General looked behind them, toward the lab and its gloomy, uninviting corridor. How many times had his screams echoed off of those walls unheard? He frowned, hating the loss of his mask, that always made things so simple, so clean cut.
He felt unnerved by Genesis' smile. It was too kind to be directed at him, something in him screamed. How was any of this happening?
Genesis grabbed Sephiroth's hand, silently urging him, his azure eyes fixed on the features that changed in a millisecond.
Sephiroth's hand, which at first was slack, tightened possessively around Genesis' thin, graceful fingers. He didn't want to let go, and that thought frightened him. He wanted those tears, he wanted that pain, because for once, it was all for him. How could it be? He asked himself once again.
His eyes found the gleaming tables, cleared of his blood. They looked so harmless from this spot, so unimportant. He let out a strangled sound as he forced himself to look away.
His teeth were bared behind his lips, which were pressed into a thin, white line.
He felt Sephiroth's hold tighten, and with it, there was something in his chest that constricted with a myriad of feelings. Fear overpowering all of them every second that passed.
What would Hojo do to them if he found out? Most importantly, what would Hojo do to Sephiroth if he ran away? Wasn't it the reason he had always stayed under the sadistic professor?
"I don't ever want to be here again," Sephiroth breathed, his chest hitching with the rage he was biting back. Hojo flashed in his mind's eye, making the hatred rise to an almost unbearable boil.
His eyes sought Sephiroth's, swirling with something he didn't want to think about. He knew it was fear, he could feel it emanating from him.
Fear and care. Both foreign feelings for his silver haired friend.
"We can run away Sephiroth." He repeated, trying to both reassure himself and his friend.
"And go where?" Sephiroth questioned bitterly, his pupils thinning out to slashes across his brilliant emerald irises.
He was looking at the silver strands. Sephiroth was right. Where could they go? Shin-Ra was everywhere, and that meant no matter where they went, Hojo would claim Sephiroth back.
"I will not run, Genesis, not from this," Sephiroth stated, hating the defeat in his tone, despite the fight that was still left in his heart.
He lowered his head as he began playing with the long silver lock, before letting go, distancing himself.
"Don't let him hurt you more than this."
Sephiroth released Genesis' hand and took a step back, hating how much the sorrow must be showing on his face. "I don't have a choice."
"Don't let him hurt you alone. We-..." He closed his eyes shut before opening them again, looking at Sephiroth. "I'll be there for you."
He hated himself.
And Sephiroth couldn't see this. His silver haired friend couldn't see the fight he had with himself every time he was around, and for once Genesis didn't care. But he knew that he had to face the consequences later, alone.
"We both know how this ends," Sephiroth said, straightening, even as his exhausted body protested. "I know that you would be, but I can't allow you to do that, not for me."
Sephiroth's head lowered, and his shoulders shook, but he made no sound, his long, silver hair nearly touching the floor as he bent, arms across his abdomen protectively.
He could not cry, but he felt something breaking. His barriers seemed to be collapsing in one massive pile of rubble, leaving him bereft, vulnerable.
He had never before loathed his weakness so much.
Genesis kneeled in front of him, his wide eyes full of concern as he reached for Sephiroth's face, trying to make him look at him. "What happened?"
"What am I?" Sephiroth asked suddenly, his eyes filled with a terror that hadn't been present in them since he was a boy.
"Sephiroth look at me. Look at me!" He urged, watching the silver haired in front of him made his breath stick in his throat not to come up.
It felt like he was losing him, like he was drifting far and far away, where no one could reach.
There was another hollow, hateful laugh, half choked, as it clawed its way out of his throat. "He was right... He was always right."
Genesis' chest constricted with fear.
"No, he wasn't right. Don't believe him. Do you hear me?" Genesis tried to make him see the truth. "He's a liar. You shouldn't believe him."
His thumb was caressing his cheek, as though wiping the invisible tears he knew Sephiroth couldn't afford shedding.
Sephiroth was smiling now, though instead of being a pleasant expression, it was insidious. "You didn't see. You didn't see what I saw," he responded shaking his mane of hair until it was a tangled mass over his face. His hands found the soft strands, tearing at the roots with enough pressure to make his knuckles go white.
Seeing the state his silver haired friend was in, Genesis felt even more hopeless, he didn't know how he could help him, how he could make the feeling in his chest that was burning him alive cease. He caressed him gently, his voice barely audible. "Let me see it Seph. I'm here. I will be here forever."
He hated Hojo for doing this. He wanted to burn down the labs, kill that man for bringing Sephiroth to this point, for making him so hurt. His eyes were burning anew.
His lips were moving silently, mouthing his friend's name like a mantra as though it'd bring them out of the nightmare they were both stuck in.
Sephiroth swallowed, taking measured breaths that seemed to sear his lungs. Genesis' words had penetrated his haze, and disbelief again came to the forefront. How could he have been so wrong about him? Was this all a lie? Would Genesis turn from him, laughing? The gentle touch was almost agony, so foreign and full of unspoken promises that made him feel like he was being torn asunder. I will be here forever, he repeated in his mind, the words so unexpected, they took him aback like a physical blow.
He knew what must be done.
He wanted to scream curses, to tear apart anything that would dare take this from him, whatever this was that had eluded him for so long.
Sephiroth straightened to his full height, backing away, confusion marring his perfect features as he struggled to rein in his lost control. "You need to go. You can't be here. Just leave me," he ordered. "I'll forgive you." It was a lie, he wouldn't. He couldn't. Not after everything, but he forced himself to say it anyway.
There were no barriers between them now, just the lie he had spoken, and he felt as though he were bleeding out his very soul to the man in front of him.
He hated Hojo, He hated Shin-Ra, He hated everything.
Fear tore his heart to shreds.
He loved him.
And he let go, because Sephiroth needed him.
He kissed him.
Sephiroth's spine stiffened, but he didn't pull away. It took him a moment to register what was happening, his famously swift reflexes abandoning him momentarily. Genesis was kissing him.
His mind was compiling every moment they ever had together, but nothing had prepared him for this.
If Sephiroth wanted anything from him, just anything, Genesis would give it to him. He closed his eyes, combing his hand through the waterfall of silver locks.
He was there for him, all open and bare, and he just had to ask, no, he just had to take, and he would give it to him. Not out of sympathy, not out of pity, but out of this emotion he just had discovered.
He was trembling as he pulled away.
What if Sephiroth rejected him?
Sephiroth searched Genesis' eyes for some hint that all of this had been nothing but deception, but he could find no such evidence. Sephiroth could still smell leather. Genesis' mouth had been soft and yielding for those few, precious seconds, and the warmth of his body had made the General want to pull him even closer. Everything had been so cold only a moment before, hadn't it? That already felt like a lifetime ago.
His eyes were locked with Sephiroth's emerald. He still held onto him, uncertainty filling his mind.
Maybe he shouldn't have done this.
There were several seconds of baited silence. Seemingly of its own accord, one of Sephiroth's hands found the hair at the nape of his friend's neck. With a lust he hadn't realized he had, he roughly brought the redhead to him, fingers, tangling in his hair, and lips crushing and insistent. His other hand was moving through the straps on the man's chest, tearing at them with abandon.
He barely registered the 'clink' as he inadvertently tore a buckle from its binding at Genesis' waist, sending it tinkering across the shining, antiseptic-white floor.
Genesis' hands plunged into Sephiroth's silvery mane as he responded to the kiss, pushing himself toward the hands that mercilessly tore at his outfit. The fear was washed away by the height of the feelings Sephiroth had triggered inside him.
The doubt nowhere to be found.
Sephiroth pulled away, though still remained close enough for his breath to ghost across Genesis' pale throat. He could see the pulse beneath the skin, and something in his chest stirred again. Without warning, he bit down on the exposed flesh, tenderly at first, then with more pressure. Before he could draw blood, he moved an inch, marring even more of the perfect expanse of skin, his tongue swiping at the raw nerves he left behind.
Genesis' eyes widened, pleasure pulsing in their depth as he felt the heat wash over his neck. Sephiroth's breath was tickling his skin, and he lowered his hands, gently caressing Sephiroth's back.
The General bit down, hard, white teeth clicking until they found purchase. With a brutal forcefulness that would have knocked the wind out of anyone else, Sephiroth pushed Genesis' body into the wall, pinning him, one arm resting on the wall behind the man's head, and the other forcing its way under the black undershirt.
It only took a moment before he could taste blood, and he couldn't be bothered to stifle the possessive, dark growl that pushed through his chest. He sucked at it and licked at it, surprised at how warm and delicious it was. It was not the first time he had tasted blood, but it was the first time it had been offered to him willingly.
Something about willingness made him desire it that much more. Genesis was his. He knew it, and he wouldn't be denied.
A moan broke from his lips as his back hit the wall, his skin stinging where he knew there was blood. He could feel Sephiroth licking it, and it made him shiver. Tugging at the sickly green fabric, he tore it, letting it fall to the ground as he worked with his gloves, wanting to feel the foreign skin with his bare fingers.
He closed his eyes, tilting his head to a side as he felt the expanse of Sephiroth's naked skin against his hands.
"Sephiroth..." He whispered, tasting the word in his mouth as though it was the first time he was saying it.
He would savor this, every moment of this would be carved in his mind, the feel of Sephiroth's soft lips, his heated skin, everything.
"Mine," Sephiroth responded, putting forth every raging emotion he was feeling into that single word. His free hand moved to Genesis' shoulder where it dug into the tender flesh after carelessly yanking off the pauldrons. The clang was loud and resounding, but Sephiroth ignored it entirely, intent on Genesis' jawline, which he traced with subtle nips until he made his way to the man's mouth, which he kissed almost violently.
The taste of blood intermingled with the flavor that was distinctly Genesis, and the combination made Sephiroth let out a small groan of pleasure that was muffled by his friend's mouth.
Genesis was dying to hear that word, and the moment it rang in his ear, all the restraints were broken. He pushed his body toward Sephiroth, his hands roaming furiously, and he moaned as the silver haired General played with him.
Everything about Sephiroth seemed perfect. Everything.
Even the ugly scar that marred his perfect back.
Genesis froze in his spot, forgetting everything altogether as he ran his fingers over the coarse surface.
Sephiroth flinched, his body stiffening unwelcomingly at the touch. "Leave it," he said breathlessly, still managing to sound as commanding as ever.
"What is this?" He touched it yet again, despite the reaction, unable to accept it as part of the reality he was feeling with every inch of his being.
Sephiroth's expression which had been open and full of lust, darkened. He pulled away, still close to the man, but no longer touching him. The ball of pleasure that was pooling in his lower stomach seemed to pulse with need the longer he kept himself away. In mere seconds, his body was demanding he return to Genesis' caress, but he paid it no heed, one fist clenched.
"I said leave it alone," Sephiroth repeated, his tone brooking no argument.
"I'm sorry." He caressed the sharp angle of Sephiroth's shoulder.
But it didn't stop the questions in his mind. It must be Hojo's doing, it had to be.
With his free hand, he touched where his neck had been stinging from the silver haired's affection, smirking as his fingers became damp with his own blood.
"How did it taste?" He asked, more to himself than Sephiroth.
He had always loved blood, his or others, it didn't matter. His smirk widened. It was his favorite color anyway.
Sephiroth's eyes flicked to the crimson that coated Genesis' fingers, a knife of desire stabbing through him.
He wanted to taste it again. He wanted more of it. He wanted the redhead entirely at his mercy, as it should be. As it should have always been.
Genesis licked his fingers, looking up through thick auburn locks, wanton challenge flashing through their depths.
Forcefully, the General caught his friend's hand. Their eyes met for a moment, as Sephiroth brought the digits to his lips, slowly devouring them to the knuckle before sucking them clean. He could taste the residual blood, faint, but still present. He pushed thoughts of the scar far from his mind, moving forward again so that his body was once more pushing Genesis' back into the wall.
It didn't have to matter, not right now. He rarely shied from his thoughts, always keen to take them apart like they were pieces to a puzzle, but the half-healed wound... It was not something he dared to think about.
Genesis kissed him again, his lips brushing against the soft curve of Sephiroth's lips, moaning against them. His hands wandered away from the forbidden spot to tangle between the long silver locks, caressing gently.
As if trying to make amends for what he had done, he gently licked Sephiroth's lips, tasting what remained of his blood on them.
His need was strong enough that Genesis' gentle teasing was almost painful. He wanted this more than he ever cared to admit to himself.
He couldn't wait any longer, he wouldn't. With the taste of copper on his lips, he pulled roughly at his friend's pants, undoing them with deft fingers.
He realized idly, that Genesis wasn't wearing anything underneath, and he smiled wickedly. The skin was smooth and wonderfully heated, making the General bite back a groan. He needed this.
Genesis shivered at the coldness of the labs hitting his naked skin, Sephiroth's mouth swallowing the growl that rose through his throat. He arched his back, closing his eyes as he pushed himself against Sephiroth, wanting, needing.
His hands were pulling at the locks Sephiroth had been so intent on snatching a lifetime ago.
He wanted Sephiroth and nothing, could stop him.
When one of the General's hands made contact with Genesis' hard, but soft flesh, it was as though everything that had come before faded into nonexistence. Sephiroth growled possessively, fingers curling and stroking with certainty.
Even then, it was not enough. That realization frightened him. He wanted everything. All of it, all that Genesis was willing to give.
It had never been given to him before, yet here was Genesis, a man he had hesitantly called friend, who had nearly been his enemy, offering his submission so freely.
It was almost too much to bear. He wouldn't think of Angeal, or the fact that Hojo could come down the hall at any moment.
Genesis could see it through the thick haze of lust as Sephiroth's eyes darkened, and when he gripped him, he could do nothing. He pushed his head back to the wall, closing his eyes as his lips moved on their own accord.
"Seph..." Trembling, breathless, wanting as he pushed into Sephiroth's hand, arching his back as he clawed at the wall, at Sephiroth's back.
"Say it again," Sephiroth ordered.
It was only Sephiroth. The world only limited to them, and already it was too much, just too much for him to bear. He needed nothing else. He was there with all his consciousness. To hell with everything else.
It felt like Sephiroth's voice reverberated through him, making him shiver, making him want more as he pushed against him yet again, a loud moan breaking past his lips.
"Seph-ph..." He threw his head back, wanting to collapse on the floor. His nails were digging into skin as he tried to hold, drawing dark crescents of blood.
The pain shot through him, exquisite in its purity. Paired with Genesis' surrender, he knew of nothing else more pleasurable.
"Turn around," he instructed, reluctantly releasing the redhead. He couldn't wait, not anymore.
"C-can't... Oh, Gods-s..." Genesis held onto him, as though his very life depended on it.
Sephiroth gave him a look of amusement, a slight smile on his lips. He knew he had the man at his mercy.
He knelt, ignoring the gasp of shock as he quickly took Genesis' length into his mouth, the slickness on the tip sticking to his lips.
It was hard, but velvety soft, and he could feel the veins pulsing beneath his tongue. Genesis tasted better than he ever could have imagined.
He reached for Sephiroth's hair, grabbing at the silver locks. He pushed against his lips, not able to control the beast the silver haired had willingly unleashed.
He let his fingernails dig into the skin of his friend's thighs, his mouth moving quickly, mercilessly, taking all that was offered.
He was almost brutal about it, knowing that Genesis would be on the verge of pain. He wanted it that way.
If he was to give himself up, he must give it all.
His breaths escaped his lips in quick gasps, scorching his lips in their heat. His hand was fisting the silver locks as he moved in rhythm with Sephiroth. It was already too much. If the silver haired continued this for long, he knew he would be finished. It would be finished, all of his paradise would quickly turn back to the dark corridor of the labs.
No, he didn't want that. He wanted this to last as long as possible. He knew there was no forever but now that he was in heaven, he wanted to linger as long as he could.
Sephiroth forced himself to pull away for a moment, his eyes filled with predatory desire.
"S-stop... Sephiroth..." He tried to breath, opening his eyes through the thick haze of sweat that was running down his skin.
"You're mine, say it," he ordered looking up in the azure eyes.
"F-fuck me." He said, countering the order with his melodious voice.
Sephiroth licked his lips. "Not until you say it." His smile was cruel.
He looked down, azure eyes mere slits of blue as he watched Sephiroth, kneeling down. His lips stretched into a faint but genuine smile as he urged him to stand up.
Sephiroth rose, resting both hands on either side of Genesis, trapping him against the wall.
He placed a chaste kiss on Sephiroth's lips.
"Yours," He purred against the shell of Sephiroth's ear.
Sephiroth didn't budge until he heard the words, then his posture loosened. "That's right, mine," he whispered, smiling genuinely for the first time in a very long time.
He grabbed Genesis by the shoulders, then shoved him face-first into the wall, paying no mind to the man's inevitable discomfort.
He knew he was nearing the point of no return, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to care.
Genesis had asked for this, he reminded himself.
He yanked the scrubs from his hips, barely missing a second before he was skin to skin with Genesis. He was hard enough for it to be painful, particularly when he slowly inched himself into Genesis' body.
There was resistance, almost too much, and the wetness that had pooled on the tip of his cock was barely enough to grant him entrance. There was the familiar burn of a too-tight fit, but it was deliciously perfect to him, even as he felt Genesis tense.
Genesis closed his eyes, pain striking his features before he relaxed, releasing the breath he didn't knew he was holding. Instead of reaching back to Sephiroth's waist, he splayed his hands on the wall. He knew what was coming.
He let out a groan of pleasure as his flat stomach came to rest against the small of Genesis' back. His fingers latched onto the man's hips, as Sephiroth looked down at their joined forms.
His lips were at Genesis' ear. "I won't be gentle with you," he stated, grabbing a lock of red hair and forcing Genesis' head back so that their eyes met.
He was shaking from exerting control, the urge to thrust almost unbearable.
"I know you wouldn't. I'm ready for it," Genesis whispered seductively, leaning his head back on Sephiroth's shoulder as he accepted the challenge.
With a hand, he reached out and caressed the silver haired's face, while with the other he held onto the small of Sephiroth's back only momentarily.
Sephiroth shuddered at his lover's words, running his fingers slowly down the man's side.
Genesis breathed in the scent, closing his eyes as he inched closer, breathing against the skin of Sephiroth's throat, gently kissing it.
Sephiroth pinned Genesis to the wall without warning, teeth clamping possessively onto his neck as he began to thrust, each movement feeling like liquid fire that seemed to ignite him down to his fingertips.
There was pain at first, and then slowly a pleasure, though he scarcely knew which was which. Genesis was warm and yielding, his skin slick with sweat. The smell of leather clung to his skin, and Sephiroth moaned, fully losing himself to sensation.
He let the walls melt away, and allowed the scent of Genesis to invade his nostrils and chase away the antiseptic smell of the labs that always set his teeth on edge.
Genesis, he thought reverently, though he dared not speak it aloud.
Genesis closed his eyes, letting the pleasure wash away the pain as his silver haired lover thrust into him. Sephiroth's damp locks trailed against his skin, tickling it. He moved his hips, trying to match the pace the man had set, his hands clutching at the walls for support.
"Seph..." The name passed through his scorching lips as he breathed, shallow, quick, hot.
Their coupling was violent, Sephiroth shamelessly taking what he wanted, what he didn't want to admit to himself that he needed.
He needed this, the smell that was distinctively Sephiroth's, the vigor with which he pushed inside him that could have left anyone bleeding to death.
He felt like he was fainting, that he no longer was inside his body. No, he tried to stay, opening his eyes as he tried to look back at Sephiroth's face, see his unique emerald eyes, and remember all of it.
"Sephiroth..." He breathed again, lust pulsing through his eyes as he watched him move.
It made him feel alive, made him feel like he was on fire, burning.
At his name, Sephiroth's breathing hitched, and his hand slipped between Genesis and the wall. He gripped the sweat-slick erection with his long fingers, strokes imprecise as he attempted to keep their brutal rhythm.
Nothing mattered anymore, just this. Genesis felt hot and perfect in his hand, and his palm was growing steadily stickier. He knew that Genesis would not be able to go on for long.
Genesis' head lolled backwards, eyes widened with pleasure as Sephiroth stroked him, his breaths hitching in his throat every time their bodies slapped together. Sephiroth's heat was melting him.
His pupils dilated, Genesis tensed, his body freezing as he came. It felt he was no longer there, they were soaring upwards as time stretched into nothingness. He could hear the growl that passed his lips, more like a shout of Sephiroth's name.
It was his bliss, his heaven.
By Sephiroth's side.
It was the arch of the Banora Whites overhead, summer sunrays penetrating through the leaves, dancing against their bare skin. It was the span of unruly moonlit silver locks, that angelic face, that unforgettable shade of green.
They were laughing care freely.
Sephiroth's scent invaded his senses as he finally breathed, opening his eyes.
Euphoria washed over him as he felt his lover behind him, still thrusting into him. A smile was on his lips.
"Yours, Sephiroth. Yours..." It was just a whisper, barely audible.
He didn't care enough to think whether he wanted Sephiroth to hear it or not. He just cared enough to have his lover by him all the night.
Sephiroth mercilessly continued to take him, fingers groping at the man's sides as he felt every clench of his climax. It was perfect, and Genesis was beautiful, his sounds nearly as arousing as his lithe, straining body.
Sephiroth was on the brink of his carefully leashed control, the edge coming closer and closer, looming below him like a cliff.
Genesis was slack below him, and he took full advantage, forcing into him as far as he could go. He nipped at the man's ear, a hand splayed across his chest holding him close.
When it happened, his world seemed to go white and soundless for a moment. He knew nothing but being surrounded by heat. He could smell blood and their intermingled sweat, sickly sweet in the cold air of the labs.
He held into him so tightly, he wondered fleetingly if he would break.
He knew he made a sound, but he was too far gone to know whether it was a muted growl or a shout. He leaned heavily onto his lover's spine, his breathing uneven and his lungs feeling as though they were being penetrated by needles.
"Genesis," he said quietly, pulling back red hair that was damp with sweat so that his tongue could lap gently at the damaged, bloody skin of his throat.
"Yes, Sephiroth." He whispered, his hands caressing the heated skin of his lover's back, his head leaning to his shoulder as he watched him through the haze, lovingly admiring him.
There was an amused laugh, short but genuine. He caught the look in his friend's eyes, but he could scarcely allow himself to believe it. His look became suddenly distant, but Genesis did not see it.
How could all of this have happened, he wondered.
It didn't seem possible.
"I'm here…like I promised." He said soothingly, gently pushing the silver locks behind Sephiroth's ear.
"I know," Sephiroth acknowledged, catching the redhead's hand and stroking it with his thumb.
"Hojo will be back soon," Sephiroth said quietly.
Genesis looked at the dented wall in front of him, dismissing what he said. "You asked me why did I come here," He paused, unsure whether to say it or not, "I love you."
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Author note: Well the little quirk up there. I know it was completely unnecessary, but I couldn't help play with the fact that even if Gast had been around that would change nothing in Sephiroth, or anything.
Anyways, I'm assuming that the professor, finding himself guilty of what was happening to the boy, and his great love of nature flew Shin-Ra only to come back years later and that's it. When he reached Shin-Ra it was too late to change anything. Most definitely our good president has better uses for both Hojo and Sephiroth than to let the good professor ruin everything.
