79/100: Freedom. Sephiroth/Genesis.
First and most importantly, this is the sequel to "Don't Fret Precious". Georgie demanded smut from said story. Smut that the muse did not deliver, so I started this... that the muse was adamant would not become smut. No matter how hard I tried. It's so hard working with myself.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and if you don't like bladekink (or lack thereof here) then take it up with Georgie. Oh yeah, the title is from a Silent Hill: Origins song, which is very good, and I found relevant.
Freedom
Hole In The Sky
A constant metallic clicking noise as the youngest of the remnants lounged across the room, playing with tiny pieces of equipment he had located days ago in one of the laboratories deep in the complex. A room dangerously close to where Genesis had been left to wallow in himself. If he was still there.
It had been many days since Sephiroth had last wandered down to see his lover, seeing neither need nor want to. The longer he was left, the angrier Genesis would become, and therefore more and more what Sephiroth wanted him to be once again.
And if he did escape, then it gave reason for rough treatment that Genesis would simply kowtow to, being the poor afflicted fool that he was nowadays. Punishment and a need to reclaim what he had lost would lead Sephiroth to cross his final boundary. What frustrating fun that would be then…
"Need you keep doing that?" the SOLDIER snapped, both hands remaining still on the table but his eyes revealing cold fury. Kadaj just smirked as he glanced up at him, through the dank light of the old office their mutual dislike of each other shone loud and clear.
Little hands continued clipping together the little metal clasps used to secure wires; his smugness grew as each other slipped from the grip and made that annoying sound that must have grated on a SOLDIER's mako-enhanced nerves. "Wasting time, Sephiroth, since you sent my brothers out."
How he hated the tone – the vitriol – that spat his name out at him. Fingers balled into fists on the battered metal desktop. The blood of DEEPGROUND SOLDIERs slain by Valentine had long since dried and crumbled away. They must have been here, sulking under Midgar, for months and Cloud's little Resistance had yet to find them, and they had yet to gather themselves to present their rebirth to the planet once again.
"Just because you're in a mood, doesn't mean that I have to sulk as well."
"On the contrary-"
"Oh yes, we're all just as irritable. Lusting after your little pet like a dog in heat." The slender teenager burst out laughing at the vexation that flashed across the ex-General's patrician features. Everything was so offhand in his manner. "Much longer and us acute-suffers of your little obsession just might just gang up on the poor little thing ourselves."
Finally, Sephiroth slammed his palm flat down on the desk, a dent forming immediately, and pushed his chair back. Nothing even had to be said. He left as Kadaj's laughter grew louder and louder. That arrogant, supercilious tone was so mockingly familiar. Teasingly familiar.
Months had passed since he had caught Genesis and trapped him in a simple butterfly net that was too small and plain to compliment him. Maybe that fact was the reason why the redhead had shrivelled up into something Sephiroth did not recognise. In a surrounding that was not like him, he could not shine as he had done before. A social butterfly in the midst of the world's most advanced civilisation. A jewel in the dark scene of Midgar.
Perhaps letting the Commander gain a little freedom – enough to spread his legs but not his wings – would bring forth a little bit of the only thing Sephiroth truly wanted. But not too much. Though the ex-general was known the world over as a calculating, patient man, there were some things that even he could not be restrained from.
A Genesis too much like the Genesis he had fantasised for so long about flaunting himself would be too much to keep away from until Mother's wishes were fulfilled.
-
As always, the fire was burning mutely in the corner of the room, shedding a flickering orange glow against all the metal inside. Sephiroth hung in the doorway, watching Genesis for a few moments as he slept perfectly composed on the bed, LOVELESS open on his chest and his right hand keeping it securely in place. The left slung across his stomach. A familiar tableau of their former lives.
Sneering, Sephiroth entered and paced closer. Not two steps from the door, he trod on something small and hard, feeling it right through the thick soles of his boot. He cast a look down, and found Genesis' flick blade under his foot. The blade itself was hanging out of the casing, as if it had rebounded off the wall a few feet away from being thrown. The redhead's blood still tainted the edge, the colour of the coat that was once again wrapped around that inanimate slim figure. He bent to pick it up; his expression deepened as he slipped it smoothly into a pocket.
Genesis' face was lost in a twist of a frown, instead of the perpetual smirk. Flames danced shadows across his sharp features, softening them in a way that without realising, Sephiroth had reached out to trace with fingertips. Flesh was as flawless and supple as he remembered; warmer than his memory had served him in the time gone by.
The stray hand returned to his side as soon as Genesis stirred. Just a simple flicker of confusion before sleep claimed everything once again and consciousness never had a chance.
The slumber was deep: it was perhaps the first time anxiety had come back to conquer the redhead since Sephiroth had found him and dragged him screaming from his brother into captivity. He only stirred a few times as the ex-General bent down to pick up the intimate weight of his former lover; it was no strain to practised muscles.
So many times had he relocated the man from the sofa of their apartment to the bedroom; to lie besides him until duty called. Just like those rare occasions, Sephiroth's actions were in complete silence, each as fluid as his super-human abilities could manage to avoid waking his high-strung companion.
Once again, up those dark corridors to the upper levels of the complex. The little light from Genesis' fire died as soon as distance paired with a lack of concentration defeated the man's natural talent for magic. And all the while, Genesis never woke – or he did a splendid job of acting like he didn't.
Sephiroth kept his eyes constantly on the quixotic expression that passed over the other's face as he settled into the warm bare chest that he knew so well, dreaming of sweet kisses and mornings bathing in the gentle light on the country. He knew that much for a fact. Reading into Genesis' very dreams as they both remained dormant in the Lifestream – though in very different ways – was a common practice for him. And had become yet one more thing that kept him determined to resurrect himself.
As he passed the old computer room where he had been sitting previously with Kadaj, those young, malicious green eyes followed his movements from the other side of the glass, smirking as if he could see right through Sephiroth, identifying his retaliation to the mockery as a weakness.
In a way it was: an obsession that was consuming wholly too much of his time for Mother's liking.
He continued on, reaching the small system of rooms he had adopted for himself – far from what he had been used to in his life of minimalistic luxury at ShinRa and the complete void of the Lifestream. Genesis would no doubt complain about it once he assumed that being out of that wardroom meant that his captivity was over.
The little metal bed had not been slept in for days and the springs groaned a little as he settled Genesis down. Again, a flash of confusion darted over the redhead's features; he let out one of those noises that had earned him his first namesake, before the darker side of his personality had come to light. Then, all that dream-like content passed as Sephiroth pulled away, slipping LOVELESS closed and onto the floor besides the bed.
He did not know when Genesis would wake; so having no need or desire to watch the man sleep, Sephiroth left the room.
-
The clack of heels approached from down the hallway; the sound was hollow and sharp and distinctive against the metal floor. Each SOLDIER had their own pattern, usually heavy and clumsy in comparison to those Sephiroth knew the most. This was equal, graceful; telling of a rhythm more in the hips than anything else. He had heard that gait so many times, he could see the man in his mind's eye, smirking and brushing his fringe back with one languid hand as the long red duster would flow freely behind him. And when the door slid open, he met with that exact sight. Surprisingly.
The crimson coat that hung from Genesis' shoulders, a darker shade than the last one and decorated with shreds of black leather, was the only thing that kept Sephiroth from brushing the arrival off as an apparition of an overactive, frustrated imagination.
The redhead strutted over, hips swaying and the index finger of his right hand trailing along the long, clear steel desk as he made his way closer. The smirk was back on his full lips. "I suppose a 'thank you' is in order."
Sephiroth scoffed bitterly, settling back into his chair, hands flat on the desk in front of him. "And what makes you think that?" He looked up, straight into Genesis' blue eyes, and found not a hint of weariness or resentment in them. Maybe this was a hallucination after all.
Raising a hand, Genesis took a few strands of the hair that framed one side of the other's face and twisted them nonchalantly around his finger. "I'm out of that damn room for one thing."
"That does not mean you're free."
Genesis let out a bark of a laugh. He swung himself down to sit on the edge of the desk, legs crossed and hands in fists behind him. "Kept as your pet and I didn't even have to give myself to you. Do you know what that means, Sephiroth?" Crystal eyes turned to him once again, the sneer clearer in them than it was on his face.
Sephiroth blinked, curious of the answer as the redhead leant in closer. Hands once again travelled towards him; fingers curling around the black leather straps that crossed his bare chest. He could taste Genesis' breath so close as the other tilted his head as if preparing for the first kiss in eight years. Breathing in the scent of pure spice that surrounded him, intoxicating, Sephiroth subconsciously moved himself to the perfect angle to contact. But the lips he was yearning to touch curved upwards sharply, white teeth sparkling as Genesis spoke again.
"It means that I won."
Stiffening, the ex-general pulled back sharply, rapidly rebuilding his icy countenance. Genesis laughed again, as harsh and derisive as it had been in the days of his illness. Memories of anxiety, pain and solitude flashed up, reminding Sephiroth of his foolish susceptibility and weakness. It reminded him of just how much he hated Genesis. The very thing he yearned to possess, he craved to free himself from.
Mostly, Sephiroth resented the sudden shift in power. Genesis was the one the strings now, pulling and manipulating to gain an emotional response and so far, it was working. Too easily. He was up to his old tricks, perhaps as an entertainment to his bored twisted mind or an act to achieve something that Sephiroth could not quite pinpoint. Had the silver-haired SOLDIER's last actions of humiliating the redhead awoken that dark desire within him, bringing back the superfluous character he knew so well or driven him to the brink to desperation to free himself in whatever means possible? His body certainly was the best weapon he had; the only one that would work against Sephiroth.
"Since when was it a challenge, Genesis?" Sephiroth pulled the redhead across the desk towards him. He ignored the victorious smirk as those long legs settled either side of the chair.
"You held a knife to my throat and gave me your terms. Yet you were the one that gave in."
With his free hand, Sephiroth took the flick blade out from his coat. Their expressions swapped as soon as azure eyes caught the sight of it. That entire arrogance was shown to be a façade in one simple action. Had it all been natural, Sephiroth knew he would have smirked again, not showing any hint of a weakness or a scent of fear. That wide doe-eyed loved-up frailty that the redhead had lost himself to somewhere between Nibelheim and his reawakening returned with vengeance in a split second.
But a split second was as long as it lasted. A flicker that betrayed him. However, Sephiroth mentally complimented Genesis for his ability to leave him wondering what was going on for so long. Mostly, he enjoyed being the one empowered. It was the way things were meant to be.
"This knife?" he asked, casually gesturing with it. All Genesis did was nod. The blasé expression wavered on his face when he saw the stain of his own blood on the edge; mind frantically wondering if he'd pushed Sephiroth too far.
Far enough for punishing.
Sephiroth did not like to be teased. He never had. And he did not appreciate giving Genesis a measure of freedom only to have disparagement spat back into his face. Quite obviously, the redhead had not learnt his lesson from the last time, as he hadn't so many times before. Sephiroth did not directly intend to install a fear inside his lover, although he did not regret the fact that he had. Respect was all he wanted. A respect and a solid awareness and resignation to the fact that he would always be second best; the puppet to dance on his strings.
"So tell me," Sephiroth said, resting his hands on Genesis' thighs, surging forwards into the space between to fill the gaze of wavering cerulean eyes completely. "What should our challenge tonight be, hmm?" He lifted his left hand, holding the blade to Genesis' cheek and bringing his face back to where he had turned to the side, averting his eyes from the predatory gaze.
The blue was deep, soft and the onyx pupils dilated, adding to that annoying sense of hopelessness that infected Genesis' whole mien now. His plump lips parted and his voice came out firmly. "I tire of your games, Sephiroth. You can only humiliate me by rejecting me at the last minute so many times before your efforts become futile."
"So it doesn't hurt you?"
"Nothing you could possibly do can." The redhead turned away again. It surprised Sephiroth that he had yet to be pushed away. Perhaps Genesis had resigned himself to the fact that they were once lovers, and there would always be some level of intimacy between them, no matter how many times he denied anything further. "Wounds will heal over time, but my memo—"
"Ah, yes. You've locked all those our precious little moments away in your head, and each time I reject you, it reaffirms that the sex we once had was special, doesn't it?"
Genesis sighed, attempting to pull away. "There's more to life than sex, Sephiroth."
"Coming from you? That's awfully hypocritical."
He saw the sudden twist to Genesis' features; how his jaw twitched the second before his hand rose. But Sephiroth caught his wrist an inch away from his cheek. The sardonic smile on his lips widened and he stood, pushing Genesis back onto the desk.
"Now, now, my fox, how many times have I told you it's not nice to bite?" chided Sephiroth. He leant completely over Genesis, nestling comfortably into the cradle of spread legs. The blade on the flick knife settled against pale flesh. Just a quick reminder, lest the SOLDIER decide to lash out again, before pushing down the collar of his black turtleneck. Sephiroth admired the light pink scratches of their last encounter. They were pretty, he had to admit, but he preferred the flawlessness of sun-kissed flesh, like a bare canvas that assured Genesis' fidelity to him.
The fingers of his free hand traced the shell of the redhead's ear, flicking over the plain silver stud he wore in his left ear and down his neck to pull the scarlet duster from his shoulders by gripping the collar. And for the most part, Genesis cooperated. Only his eyes betrayed his lack of consent.
"Why bother?" he asked as a whisper so quiet that had Sephiroth not been looming so closely, he might not have heard. "Why bother continuing this charade? I know you will only leave in a few moments."
Sephiroth scoffed, taking the knife away, sliding it back into itself, and left it across the desk. "My dear, you've thrown down your glove. How can I resist the challenge, and how can I resist you?" He leant down the last few inches, aiming for Genesis' mouth, but met with a cheek when the other turned away.
"You've done it before. Do it again."
With a smirk, Sephiroth lowered himself again to feverishly kiss down Genesis' neck, ignoring the slight squirms that followed. Red-gloved hands tried to rise to push him away, but were restrained by his jacket tight around his elbows.
He heard the muffled thud of Genesis' head meeting the desk; a quick glance showed his eyes glassy and staring at the broken computer at his side. His features were twisted, leading Sephiroth to the assumption that the ministrations were not as forceful as the redhead expected.
"Sephiroth," that cultured voice called softly, and repeated until he raised his eyes. It was a tricky task, flesh being as addictive as it always had, only more so from their bitter time apart. "I'll do whatever you wish of me, but I will not help you," Sephiroth silently remarked on the lack of a stab at Mother like there ordinarily would have been – perhaps Genesis felt he needed to tread lightly in such a delicate situation. Perhaps that was a wise decision. "in whatever you're planning, so long as you do not take from me the man I love."
There was such a naked honesty, a pleading tone to Genesis voice – unlike anything he had ever seen, even in the throes of orgasm – that it struck Sephiroth deep. Surprising him twice: parts of his consciousness he thought he lost years ago reacting in various ways. A need to comfort, protect, embrace and kiss Genesis because he knew the man found it so difficult to express this much to anyone, let alone the one who had been insisting on his destruction for a vast part of the last decade.
Blue eyes still faced away, and for that Sephiroth was thankful. As much as he was afraid of the look in his own eyes, he did not want to know of Genesis'. The latter blinked but remained still, lifeless and utterly subordinate should the SOLDIER decide the ignore his wishes with a sneer.
Sephiroth found himself sliding off his lover; taking steps away from the desk and reorganising his leather uniform into pristine order. On the desk, Genesis sat up and shrugged his coat back into place. Neither of them looked at each other, the silence spoke plenty of words.
What would Genesis take this as? A sign that somewhere deep down, the General he fell in love with was still alive? It was curious. Sephiroth was a recreation of himself, formed from tainted lifestream at Mother's will… and yet there was still some tenderness in him towards the mercurial redhead. Was whatever they once shared so powerful to cross all boundaries against the wills of Jenova?
Or it could have just been Genesis' Goddess poisoning his own mind? A method certain to lead him astray from a path of destruction.
Softly, a gloved hand curled under his chin, drawing it upwards. As green eyes refocused, he found Genesis' face immediately before him, cerulean eyes as bright and sparkling as water. He pressed a gentle kiss to Sephiroth's lips and broke away with the slightest of smiles. A tiny voice nagged the silver haired SOLDIER into admitting that was beautiful, not the scars and cuts of their more recent turn of relationship. But he did nothing to express that emotion.
In a swish of black leather, he turned and strode across the room, to the large window that partitioned the room from the corridor. The reflection in the glass was poor; he could only make out the red blur of Genesis behind. "Go find the remnants, I wish to speak with them. After that, do what you want."
The redhead nodded. "Thank you."