While I loathe the fact that this is necessary, I'll add the bloody disclaimer. This is a work of FANFICTION, which means that I do not own any of the characters hereby mentioned other than Mike, who is a girl. She's me if I were in FVII: AC. ALL characters OTHER than "Mike" belong to Square Enix.
This takes place sort of in a parallel universe to AC, even though the event occur, it's not all about Jenova and Sephy-san.
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"What's the matter?" She teased, the smirk on her full lips tugging into a crescendo of visual sarcasm. A single blonde bang fell in front of one of her hazel green eyes and only served to make her look more devious. Tossing her head lightly to her left, the bang follow suit and tried to tuck itself behind her ear. When the gesture failed to achieve the intended goal, Mike simply ignored the taunting sheet of hair and kept her eyes of hazel flame on her objective.
The silver haired opponent shared in her smirk, and pressed his hand into his glove, five loud cracks resounding at the pressure. Looking down to his challenger, Loz took another daring step closer, his resolve seemingly only strengthened.
"I thought you liked women that could kick your ass…" Mike taunted, her brow dancing as she continued to assail him with visual and verbal jeers.
Loz grinned.
"I do, but you're certainly not kicking my ass." His reply was witty and sarcastic and Mike's grin only broadened.
"Well then let me see if I can fix that."
Rushing forward, Mike's fists flew in a peach blur towards the man's head. Tilting his head to the left, Loz avoided one of her blows, but her left hook managed to hit his cheek hard. In a surge of energy, Mike lifted her leg and struck him roughly in the stomach. Her boot managed to make quite an impression on his torso, and the air left his lungs in a quick grunt. Despite having taken his share of punches, Loz was by no means deterred, or even fazed. The blows rolled off of him like water over duck feathers, and he straightened to retaliate.
Fists struck wherever the intended target didn't expect them to. Unexpected signs of violent affection made their marks on the other's bodies. Bruises, small cuts, all tokens of what the other considered to be love.
After a good strike to the face, Mike stumbled backwards a slight ways and took a brief moment to catch her breath. Loz stepped forward, his boots crunching on the glass that they had broken when Loz had caught Mike's leg and flung her into a nearby window. Mike, however, evened the score by sending a series of blows to Loz's silver cropped head, which made his vision hazy for a good while.
Seeming to have no inclination to give up fighting, Mike began to draw her fist back again to strike, but Loz stepped forward and caught her fist with his hand. Her strength caused his hand to move backwards a considerable bit, but his firm grip on her clenched fist did not wane.
The breath stuttered out of Mike as her eyes opened wider when her blow was so obviously deflected. Taking the moment of inaction to refuel her lungs with oxygen, Mike's chest heaved up and down with the effort of refilling her lungs. There was a slight sheen of sweat over her body causing her clothes to stick to her, particularly in the center of her back and on her chest. The simple black tank was riddled with sweat, but Loz did not step away.
Once the pressure against the palm of his hand was gone, Loz lowered his arm from over his head and let Mike's hand fall from his, swinging alone, unattended by her side. Lifting her head to better look at him, Mike studied the expression he wore. His eyes were closed, pensive as his face was turned towards hers. There were small cuts on his cheeks, even one that crossed his lip, but the blood had dried and his face still looked to Mike to be strong and determined, despite his calm visage.
"Had en-…" Mike had meant to administer another sardonic remark when Loz leaned down and silenced her. The motion was soft, smooth, one that looked practiced in lieu of the fact that Loz had never been given a chance to enjoy the perks of having someone to be close to, or to share such affection for. Everything about him was rough, hard. His hands were callused from wielding his weapon for hours of end in vast training fields where he ruthlessly slaughtered anything that got in his way. A pair of boot stuffed feet wore the scars of many hours laboring in unfavorable environments. Even his smile appeared as if he were trying to crack through stone. There was nothing remotely soft or tender about Loz, or so everyone who had met him expected as much.
There was one thing that remained startling smooth and velvet. A pair of currently split lips. They felt to Mike like feathers, the feathers of a chickadee. So smooth and perfect, however apparent her split was.
The crack in his bottom lip brushed softly over Mike's, and she breathed out, forcing her air into his mouth.
Both pair of hands, rough, cracked, and callused, remained contentedly dormant at their sides. The mere brush of lips was enough of an expression. However violent their usual spars were, whoever was declared the winner, there was nothing as tender as sharing breath. Neither bothered to intensify their contact, it would have made such a contradiction to what they shared. Fighting, sparring, training with the other was a pastime, some way that they could strengthen their bodies and watch the other grow in their power.
Pulling away, Loz slid his eyes open to look at his lover's face, to see how she looked when she was so close and so obviously his. In the broken second that Loz had to observe her, his perfectly divine lips stretched into a soft smile.
Though the light in the room was partial, it fell across her face and illuminated her. It made her the brightest thing in the room, made it look as if she radiated and glowed from her centre, sending off light beams to the darkest corners. Her lips were slightly damp from where his had met with hers, caught her soul by taking her lips and making them part of his being. Two eyelids, two thin curtains for such mind-numbingly gorgeous hazel green eyes, quivered. From his position above her, Loz could read every movement of her eyes as the lids reflected the motion.
When they reached the zenith of their shivering, Loz saw the curtain draw, revealing to him those intoxicating green eyes. They were confused, why had he pulled away, why had he stopped? Her full lips stretched into what Loz knew to be an amusing remark. That was always her way, everything was heated words of pending violence or sarcasm. It was funny, so light-hearted, and yet so dire. Deliciously contradicting.
As he brought his mouth to join hers once more, he thought that "delicious" was the perfect way to describe her. She was salty from the sweat that had run onto her swollen lips, and yet there was something distinctly spicy about her flavor.
God, she was perfect. A breath of life into his.
Mobilizing her hands, Mike placed both of her palms against his chest, simply letting them rest there as she made their breathing coincide. Their lips remained tenderly pressed, on the verge of no longer touching, and they shared breath. Loz could no longer tell his breath from hers, their lungs had synchronized so well, two bodies relying on the other for life. It was so much more meaningful than any sexual encounter or lusty moment. Sex did not require the other's cooperation, sex could not understand what it meant to need the other body for their life. As far as Loz was concerned, this was all the more physical contact he needed to satisfy him. His trust was hers entirely when he realized that she could suck the breath from his lungs and steal his life through his mouth if she felt thus.
Loz's existence relied on her…in the moment and in reality. What he would do if she wasn't there? His survival physically would continue, but the person he had become would crumble away until all that was left was a shell.
Placing his hands over hers, Loz pressed hers to his body. Maybe Mike could feel how his lungs were responding to her. It was a stupid thing to do, really. Almost a childish gesture. Before Mike, Loz had been nothing more than an overgrown child, incapable of making his own decisions and thinking for himself. She had been so hateful and cold to him when they'd first met…she hated his weakness.
But that part of his life was over. He was a child no longer.
Allowing their lips to move apart, both parties remained close, resuming their breathing, accustoming themselves to breathing on their own, the breath that they expelled warming the other's moist lips. Rubbing his middle and index finger together, Loz felt their callus before he took his middle finger and ran it over her bottom lip, which was so beautifully puffed. When his rough fingertip met her lip, Mike closed her eyes again and let her mouth remain parted. When Loz slipped his finger somewhat into the interior of her mouth, feeling the slick moisture of her inner lip, he grunted. Putting his hand on the back of her head, Loz let his fingertip slide down to her collarbone and brought her face towards his. Snatching her bottom lip between his teeth, Loz tugged, pulled so gently, working her lip, pulling her mouth into his.
Passion, it raged within his body as if it were a tiger that Loz had kept caged for too long. It was neglected, battered, cold, but somehow incredibly persistent. He grunted slightly as the space between them heated externally with the internal fire blazing within them. Mike's skin was warm, Loz could feel the burning in her core and was surprised that her lips hadn't singed his.
Venturing a small peak at her while they were so close, Loz slid his eyes open a little, intending to pull away so that he could get a better picture of her. However, the first image that danced across his eyes was not Mike's face, eyes closed, mouth open and slick, but it was Kadaj that swam into view like a lurking shark. He was leaning against the doorway of the room with his arms folded across his chest and an unreadable expression playing on his face.
Suddenly letting go of her, Loz pulled away as if Mike were made of lava and she had burned him. His teeth had left her lower lip damp, shining with his saliva, and also marvelously plump. Taking a step backwards, Loz watched as Mike's entranced look became one of confusion and pain.
"Loz, what's wrong?" her words floated over to him and smacked him in the face, causing more damage than any of her lethal punches ever could.
Keeping his eyes on the figure of Kadaj, Loz intended to remove himself from Mike, but he would not leave her until Kadaj was gone. It wasn't about her, she wasn't involved other than to consider her guilty by association. Kadaj, sensing that Loz wasn't going to just leave his lover alone with him, consented to his brother's logic, and turned to leave the building.
Lox remained motionless until he could hear the nearly inaudible rumbling of Kadaj's motorcycle growl into the distance.
Mike, however, had been completely oblivious to Kadaj's presence, and was still concerned about his behavior.
Her boots crunched over glass, the sound nearly cleaving Loz's head in half. The shriek of the glass under her rubber soled boots was enough to make him grimace at the sound.
More shards voiced their protest of Mike's progression towards him, causing Loz's head to fill with pain. The ache was overwhelming, what was happening to him?
"Loz, what the hell is the matter with you?" she asked, stopping once she realized the equivalent exchange that they currently shared. It was no longer tender sharing of breath and life force, but an exchange of steps. For every one she took, he also took.
Backing away from her entirely, Loz turned around, away from her, and ran.
