Summary: "When you want something, you'd do anything to get it...A one-winged angel uses a blond-haired SOLDIER to capture the lips of a gunslinger."
A/N: SOOOO this is my first yaoi in ever. For some reason unbeknownst to me, I deleted my yaois around three years ago. Now I don't really care, considering they were horrible.
But, if I do say so myself, I believe I have gotten a little bit better at writing in that time lapse; so I tried my hand at another yaoi.
My sister requested the idea of Cloud/Vincent, but I added a little twist to it (since Cloud's words, motives, and actions would be OOC).
You'll see what I mean.
Happy wanking.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story idea. The characters and the FF franchise belong to Square Enix.
Do it, Cloud. You know you want to.
Every part of you, inside and out, is in need of this. Don't ruin everything by running.
...If anything, Cloud, do it for me. If you don't want it, then know by Gaia that I do.
As a matter of fact, why don't I help you...?
The words of earlier in the day were now an echo in the back of Cloud's mind. Back there were the remnants of his consciousness, the only proof that he was even still functioning as a blond-haired ex-SOLDIER. The driving force within him was indeed not familiar in the sense of attitude, composure, or motive, but the identity that had assumed his position certainly was no stranger. Known for being hellbent on world domination, his lust for unstoppable malice, and insanity upon self-discovery, the real Cloud Strife cowered in fear inside the deepest corners of his mind, too afraid to re-encounter his most feared foe.
Sephiroth's mako green eyes now took over the once ocean blue orbs of his favorite puppet. His smile replaced the rare one which usually grazed Cloud's face, only in a different form. Sephiroth, moving around the room using Cloud's body as a vessel, finally came face to face with the man he so sorely wanted, but could never seem to reach, even with his power.
Vincent Valentine struggled against the chains binding his wrists tightly together, swinging with unbalance in the process. The restraints were rooted in the cracked ceiling of a room with no sign of light. Each movement sent small chunks of plywood showering down on him from the unstable interior of Shinra Manor. After a while of moving, the chunks had increased in quantity and strength, but the gunslinger couldn't keep his movements to a minimum. He was extremely confused, and beyond pissed. Upon waking and discovering that he was bound in chains, feelings of hate and sickness swelled inside of his heart; it brought back the madness of the endless malice he experienced over thirty years ago at the hands of Hojo. His now naked upper body twisted and jerked against his chains that held him. He became even more distressed when one of his old comrades, Cloud Strife, walked into the room.
"Cloud...Did you do this?" he demanded, grunting as he vehemently kept pulling.
The subject smiled strangely. "Quiet," he replied. The illusioned ex-SOLDIER dragged his hand down the ex-Turk's bare chest, laughing darkly.
Vincent instinctively cringed and shrank away from the unwelcome touch. He could barely see through the rage and disorientation clouding his vision. His mind couldn't make sense of anything going on. Was this real? Was Cloud really touching him? His body just wanted to sick into an irreversible stupor, convinced that this wasn't real.
The gunslinger suddenly felt a hand smack him roughly across the face. "Snap out of it, Vincent. I'm sure you'll regret it in the morning if you realize you were asleep for the good parts," said Cloud. A diabolical grin snaked across his face, and Vincent was suddenly so sure that this was not the Cloud that he had known for years.
"Let me go, Cloud," he said, almost hesitating to give the man a name once he saw the strange mako green color in Cloud's eyes.
Said man took hold of the zipper on his blue turtleneck and sharply tugged. "Just hold on, Vincent. I think you'll soon be thanking me whether you like it or not." The armor sitting on the young man's shoulders fell to the ground with a deep thud that sent his victim into an alarmed state. His bare chest was noticeably pale even in the dull light of Shinra Manor's upper West wing.
Vincent sighed angrily. "You're gonna regret this, Cloud."
And in a flash, the mercenary was behind Vincent, his un-gloved hands wrapped completely around the other's pale neck. Sounds of the older man's coughing and gasping for air filled the room, and made the one winged angel inside of Cloud smile. His thoughts wandered to the straining in his tight pants; that would be satiated soon enough. He turned his focus once again to Vincent; his veins were prominent of his arms as he struggled to pull away from Cloud's deathgrip on his neck. His movements became even more erratic when he started to feel the last remnants of air being squeezed out of his lungs, preparing to die; it was then that Cloud loosened his fingers teasingly, one by one, and finally let go completely.
Vincent groaned loudly and slumped down limply as he gasped for breath. The oxygen burned like fire making its way down his swollen esophagus, and he wondered if he would rather just die. His chest ached heavily as the sudden rush of air took over his respiratory system and threatened his composure. The tears that had previously filled the corners of his eyes while he was being choked suddenly gushed over and spilled down his flushed cheeks. Every breath was a struggle; he couldn't do it with no sound.
"Why, Vincent...you're starting to look pretty weak!" Cloud said, feigning surprise. He quickly rotated to Vincent's front, cupping his chin and forcing Vincent's crimson eyes to meet his. "...And I thought I was the weak one!" He giggled antagonizingly, dropping Vincent's head and walking back around to his rear. He took a few moments to look at Vincent's clothed but perfectly toned rear, his long legs, his beautifully structured back...Cloud's left hand wandered to the waist band of Vincent's black pants, reaching inside and cupping his rear end. His fingers poked and prodded his way to his front where he got a feel of quivering wet flesh. "Oooh," he cooed in delight.
"Get the fuck off of me, Cloud," Vincent said, a devastatingly threatening edge to his raspy voice. He snarled viciously as Cloud pretended to be oblivious, continuing to molest his most private parts. Cloud wrapped his hand completely around Vincent's length and jerked slowly. Vincent struggled harder to keep away from showing any sign of surrender. Sweat dripped down his back and stuck to his long, dark hair. He winced in painful reluctance and excrutiating desire as Cloud touched him in places that had remained stoic for so long...He really wished he weren't secretly pleading for this in the back of his mind. His hands trembled slightly when Cloud grabbed his chin and jerked his head towards his lips. Cloud's hot tongue battled with Vincent's, seemingly strong enough to win the battle. He moaned into the unwilling gunslinger's mouth and kissed him deeper. After a while, he pulled away from Vincent's pale lips and smirked.
"...I can see that you're struggling, Vincent Valentine. As a...small reward for cooperating thus far, I'll be a doll and satisty what I think is your small sickness for just one moment." Cloud slowly spoke these words, his tone of voice becoming more and more foreign as he went along, secretly pulling out an enormous, shiny tool of destruction. The sword did not physically match the man...but how could Sephiroth do this without his beloved Masamune? Even if Vincent used his wits and discovered that Cloud was merely a puppet, the pleasure would be too much to act on disbelief right at the moment. Cloud's smile only grew bigger as he positioned his arms in front of him, flipping the sword over so he could cut with Masamune's beautiful arch. He inhaled deeply as he raised his arms and felt the tip of the sword connect with the small of Vincent's back.
Vincent's entire body clenched tightly as he screamed violently. The touch of the cold metal slowly sliding up his back was equaled by the warmth of the blood draining from the perfectly straight wound. His arms shook intensely and rattled the chains as he fell down to his knees, becoming even more vulnerable. Cloud laughed loudly at Vincent's pain before he finally reached the back of his neck, pushing the sword in slightly before withdrawing it from the pale flesh. Vincent's shoulders visibly shuddered as blood ran like a river down into his pants. His back was the epitome of horrid torture; the line Cloud had perfectly cut along Vincent's spine was something to smile about. For a while he just stared at it, priding himself with such beautiful bodywork. It turned him on seeing his mark on the man; the tension inside of his pants was now painful...He needed more. More destruction, and he'd be ready for the taking.
Vincent trembled viciously, gasping when he felt Cloud press his legs to the back of his shoulders. He couldn't muster the strength to get up from the position on his knees. Small groans escaped his chest as he tried to push through the pain of Cloud pressing his clothed crotch to the back of Vincent's head. With one hand, Cloud cupped Vincent's chin and pulled his head up; he artistically wielded Masamune with the other. Vincent's eyes widened in shock when he saw the tool that Cloud had used to cause him so much pain. His shaky irises met his comrade's, and his suspicions were confirmed that this wasn't Cloud at all. He could barely breathe at the realization of the man who was really standing behind him, positioning his sword against his taut stomach.
Cloud giggled softly. "I knew you weren't stupid, Valentine."
Pressing Masamune right above Vincent's bellybutton, Cloud pulled it up slower than before. He watched Vincent scream in peril at the pain and loss of blood. Cloud snarled and pressed harder as he lead Masamune up Vincent's stomach, through the middle of his chest, and between his collarbones, slowing down dangerously before sliding up Vincent's throat. The gunslinger struggled even more than before, making this wound not so symmetrically perfect. Tears ran down from his frantic, bloodshot eyes as he stared in cowering fear into the intruder's eyes. He gripped the chains tightly with his hands and tried to suppress some of the pain. He could no longer scream once Cloud slipped Masamune up his throat and the bottom of his chin. Cloud pulled his hand away from Vincent's chin before Masamune could cut his fingers. The sword dropped with a loud clank as Cloud withdrew his body completely from touching the gunslinger. Like before, he stopped for a few moments just to watch.
Vincent was half-dead. It was remarkable how much damage his body was able to take without suffering instant demise, but the man inside of Cloud felt no remorse or sorrow. The black-haired man was destined for death. Cloud walked around to witness the damage he had done in the front. Though Vincent was slumping quite a bit, Cloud could clearly see the uneven laceration making its way up Vincent's chest and throat. Blood dripped from the bottom of the shaken man's chin. Streaks of beautiful crimson still ran fluidly down into the front of Vincent's pants. The picture was perfect; action was now required. It was the perfectly executed image of torture to get the man off in no time at all. The man smiled brightly; he couldn't believe he had done so well!
Now, there was no time to waste. He stepped towards Vincent's slowly dying body, and pulled his head up. Vincent's crimson eyes were already half gone, but his lips trembled quickly as he prayed for death. Cloud swiped his hand underneath Vincent's chin to capture as much blood as he could. A small groan rumbled the gunslinger's frame, and Cloud moved quicker. Retreating to his rear, he fussed with his pants and pulled them down sharply. Falling to his knees, he coated his throbbing length with his victim's blood. Each stroke sent him shivering; he threw his head back and moaned, almost giving into his hand before he even touched Vincent. Throwing his hazey eyes back on the shrunken bleeding man, he forced Vincent's pants off of his crouching legs. The muscles in his arms nearly popped while lifting Vincent's ass onto his lap. Cloud filled the bloody man with his leaking member, smiling when he heard a quiet whimpering groan.
It wouldn't take him long now. The feel of Vincent's tight, untouched rear was perfect to top off the night. Cloud barely had to move as he lifted Vincent on and off of his dick. He didn't know, or even care, if Vincent was even still alive to feel it. The warmth suggested life, as did the quiet pained gasps that occasionally escaped Vincent's poor, parched lips. Cloud inhaled with a growl as he felt himself leaking even more into the man's body. Each touch to the core of the lacerated man sent him moaning loudly, pushing and pulling harder. The man was soon too into it to sit stagnant; he lifted himself onto his knees and started thrusting with each pull he exceeded on Vincent's body. His eyes soon became hazy as he stared up into the ceiling, growling loudly as each of his thrusts got harder and stronger. Vincent's arms hung limp from the chains, and that was all Cloud needed to look at before he called out loudly and released himself inside of Vincent. He pushed and pulled harder as he rode out his bliss. Vincent's entrance seemed to get tighter once Cloud orgasmed, making Cloud smile and giggle loudly. He pulled away and stood up, still reeling from the feel of his climax. He still felt a massive weight being satiated inside of his gut.
...And I've got you to thank.
The one-winged angel finally parted with his blond-haired puppet. Cloud's eyes instantly transformed back to the ocean blue depths that everyone knew, his mind becoming his own again. It was a huge headrush, one that he found completely impossible to fight. Just as he was getting used to being back in his own body, he fell sharply to the cold, hard floor. Pain shot through his back and made the headrush all the more excrutiating. Clutching his head and rolling to his side, he opened his eyes and caught a horrifying glimpse of two men. Sephiroth, who was standing and smiling brightly; and Vincent Valentine, a slumping, bloody mess on the floor. Nausea rolled up into Cloud's throat and he slapped his hand over his mouth, fighting the urge to throw up. Casting a look down at his naked body and bloody cock, he felt hot tears filling his eyes to the brim. He could no longer look at his former comrade without believing he was caught in a nightmare. Anger filled his heart as he looked up at Sephiroth, the one-winged angel, the master of puppets, who was now walking away.