The Experiment

Authors: Yahnkehy and The Prince's Jewel

Notes: This is a collaboration fanfic, not role-play, per se, but similar being as it is a joint effort.

Genre: Final Fantasy VII, post AC, post DoC

Spoilers: Possibly a few, but mostly just mentions of major happenings in the original FF7 game, some for Advent Children.

Warnings: Uniquely done MPREG *ducks rotten tomatoes*, angst, broken Cloud, pissy Reno, slight OOC, hurt/comfort, yaoi, kissing, brat.

Pairing: Cloud x Reno

Disclaimer: Not mine; there'd be more yaoi if it was.

The Experiment

Prologue: The Past Will Always Bite You in the Ass

At eleven, Reno Tsubasa was admitted into the SOLDIER program and, after the first five injections, mustered out again. Turns out that the wily little brunette had altered his records to state that he was seventeen rather than the minimum thirteen, which was a big no-no when it came to the battle-ready divisions of the Shinra Corporation. So, the too-young kid had immediately broke into the Turk headquarters and sat in the president's seat until the old man had come in. To say the least, Reno had been accepted into the ranks of Turk and put through the program during which he'd been given Mako injections to beef up his body's resistance to pain and injury. He didn't bother to tell them about the previous SOLDIER injections that had already accomplished that. So what if he was just a little stronger and partially immune to injury?

After the last injection, though, the scientist in charge of giving him the Mako shots noticed that once dark brown hair had become lighter and was slowly turning red at the roots. Curious, the head scientist, Hojo, had questioned the boy.

"Have you had Mako injections before, Tsubasa?" Hojo had asked and settled a clipboard across his bent knee, eyeing the boy across from him with almost fanatical glee.

"Yeah, kinda. Got mustered out of SOLDIER when they found out I wasn't as old as I said I was, yo." Reno had simply shrugged as if it was unimportant.

Hojo, on the other hand, was almost beside himself; various projects that were currently operating showed signs of decay and it would only be a matter of time before the effects were known to all. Sephiroth had been observed muttering under his breath about his mother while in stasis for recovery—soon enough the ramifications of using JENOVA cells to create assassins would come to light. "That's very interesting. How about you come to my lab once a month and receive treatments that will enhance your SOLDIER injections as well as the Mako treatments? The therapy will, of course, help balance the conflicting program treatments and stall any severe complications. What do you say, Tsubasa?"

Cerulean blue eyes, enhanced by both Mako and SOLDIER treatments, watched the scientist warily for a moment, judging the pros and cons of such an arrangement. "You gonna tell old man Shinra about the SOLDIER treatments or are we gonna keep it under the table, yo? I'm not too keen on gettin' shoved outta Turk like I was SOLDIER."

"Oh no, dear boy, this will be between just the two of us. Once a month you'll come here and take the therapy treatments. No one will know unless you tell them. It's part of the doctor/patient confidentiality clause." Hojo had smirked and turned his rolling chair around before standing up. He had motioned to the boy to follow him.

An hour and a half of concocting, testing, and concocting some more finally had yielded the desired serum. Hojo had rolled Reno's sleeve up and plunged a needle into the boy's forearm quickly. Almost desperately, he had depressed the plunger and shoved the scarlet fluid into Reno's veins. "Free to go but come back in a month for another dose. Don't be late or we'll have to double the dosage and that could cause sickness and discomfort. Come to me if you have any complications or unexpected developments and we'll take care of things accordingly." He then shooed Reno out of the laboratory.

For Reno, life was normal; Turk training, mock-battles, and finally he'd been foisted off on a seasoned veteran. Rude had become Reno's other half quickly, but the now-redhead had kept his monthly injections secret.

The first six months of the prescribed year of treatments went by almost without a hitch; Reno noticed that his strength was greater and he took less damage than expected in hard missions, but there were a couple of curious side effects that he didn't quite know what to do about. First, his fingernails and hair grew almost abnormally fast—he'd been in Turk less than five months and had to cut his hair twice that amount before finally giving up on it all together. Then he noticed that his skin, while still durable, was soft and almost femininely smooth. His features had shifted from that of a rough and tumble junkyard dog to almost androgynous and, in the right circumstances, feminine. But, the changes that he seriously didn't like were the appearance of small breasts and the steady shrinkage of his member. Not something the now twelve-year-old was pleased about. When he'd told Hojo of these changes, the scientist had simply waved them off and said that they were only temporary but that the therapy shots needed to be stepped up a bit more. Instead of the originally agreed upon once a month, it became bi-weekly.

For awhile, the changes halted and seemed to revert to normal adolescent changes, so Reno decided to just ignore them. Pubes appeared, and his dick stood to attention for just about any pretty girl he saw. He masturbated with increasing frequency, enough so that Rude had started knocking. By the time his thirteenth birthday and a paycheck coincided, he'd arranged for vacation time and headed for the Honeybee Inn. He was hornier when he left that when he arrived.

At his next treatment, he'd asked if the increased sex drive was normal. It was. Hojo encouraged him to work off his sexual appetites as frequently as possible, and suggested that if girls weren't cutting it maybe boys would. When Reno had given him a dumbfounded look – not that he didn't know guys did that, but still! – Hojo had proceeded to give him the most thorough physical exam he'd ever had in his life, and he'd ejaculated no less than fifteen times by the time the man had finished – and Hojo hadn't fucked him.

Fighting got him hard. Training got him hard. Watching Tseng fill out reports got him hard. Watching TV got him hard. Hell, making fuckin' coffee got him hard. Also made him have to pee, which was a great reason to head for the bathroom where he could jerk off. He drank lots of coffee. He spent half of every day in the bathroom, jerking off, and most of the rest of it propositioning and fucking Shinra employees. Males and females. By the time his fourteenth birthday rolled around, he was pretty well known as a sex-crazed slut.

For his birthday, he threw an orgy. He fucked every single one of his guests unconscious, and then fucked them while they were out. The party made the Shinra recordbooks. Hojo simply snickered, and said it was normal for teenagers to be lusty when he complained about being horny all the time.

It was bad enough always being horny, but he was hyper too. He'd been hyper to start with, but he grew increasingly bouncy. Never sitting still for long, always twitching or jiggling, driving whoever was around him nuts. He complained about that, too. Hojo gave a put upon sigh, tested him, and adjusted the treatments.

The change didn't affect his libido at all. If anything, that got stronger, but Reno wasn't nearly as hyper. No one would ever call him mellow, but he didn't cause people to climb walls, or bend him over the nearest desk to fuck what was left of his brains out. Well, no, he still did the last, but not because they wanted to wear him out. It was because he made sure he was as sexy as fucking hell, and willing to live down to his unofficial title as the Shinra slut.

For his fifteenth birthday, he went to the slums, and fucked his way through all whores his money bought him. Then he went back to Shinra, walked into the barracks, and offered himself to any SOLDIER or grunt who thought they could keep up with him. In the end, only Sephiroth and a First-class soldier the General favored could wear him out.

That year, he went through six or seven people a night, plus anyone he caught in the showers, the elevator, or the stairwells. Not that he raped anyone, but he could be damned persuasive, with his pretty boy looks and the sensuality he'd learned to use. Weekends he had off, he spent in Sephiroth's bed, or his favorite's, and when he was really lucky, Sephiroth's bed with the favorite, too. The rest of the week, and the weekends he worked, he more often than not went to bed hard, woke up hard, and never ever seemed to be able to reach the limits of his need.

The night before his sixteenth birthday, Sephiroth went insane. For his birthday, he was assigned to the Shinra Mansion, and Hojo. Just him, Hojo, and two lab assistants in the mansion, if you didn't count the two guys in the Mako tanks. Hojo gave strict instructions that none of 'em were to leave the grounds.

Hojo found him literally fucking furniture on the third day. The bastard had the gall to laugh at him, then ordered him down to the lab. Reno went willingly, sure the man would find out what was wrong and fix it. About all he could ever remember, after, was the look of shocked understanding the very familiar dark-haired SOLDIER gave him when Hojo gave him his shot before telling him to strip so for a proper exam. The other was that the exam was even more thorough than the first one Hojo had given him.

Reno spent the next two years with the fingers of one hand up his ass, and his other hand busy on his cock, damn near twenty-four hours a day. The exceptions were the treatments that were again once a month, the only time hands other than his own gave him any relief. He learned to look forward to hearing Hojo tell him it was time for another examination and treatment. He learned to anticipate the required stripping off and the insults over his body that came before the physical he craved. Learned to enjoy the feeling of surgical-gloved hands pinching and poking at sensitive parts. Begged for the instruments to be attached, or inserted, because whatever Hojo hooked up to him sent him into a state or orgasmic bliss he just couldn't reach on his own. He also learned to look at the dark-haired SOLDIER no matter what, because no matter how callous Hojo was, or how rough, the SOLDIER always met his gaze with the look of someone who didn't condemn, the way others had. To the SOLDIER, he knew he wasn't a slut.

His eighteenth birthday, he spent celebrating his transfer from the mansion at a whorehouse. He still had to go back for the treatments, but somehow the SOLDIER made it better, no matter how much he wound up begging for the humiliating pleasures Hojo eventually gave him.

Two months after his twentieth birthday, he was kneeling on a cliff high above Midgar. In front of him, a freshly-dug grave held the remains of that SOLDIER. Reno didn't understand why he had cried there until his next treatment, which took place in the sterile whiteness of a lab, and he had nothing but the mirrors to watch when he begged Hojo to rape him with his machines.

When he was twenty-one, Sephiroth died – again. Two more years passed fairly quietly, years full of treatments, sex, and missions, before Hojo died in the Deep Ground incident. But not before twenty vials of the once-again modified scarlet serum had gone into Reno's veins and another into his abdomen. Hojo had assured him the final vial was the most important, and he should be perfectly fine without any other treatments.

He was. Except, without the treatments, his libido cut itself in half, then in half again. Plus, the changes that had worried him when he was twelve seemed to be coming back. They were a little bothersome at first, but Hojo was dead and he couldn't ask. He just fastened his clothes more than usual. By the time he fought Yazoo in downtown Edge, he was getting nervous about it, really starting to wonder what was going on. By the time he found out, it was too late.

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