Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. I just like to try and convince myself that I do by making them do disturbing things like this. :P
Oh yeah, this story contains yaoi. HojoxSephiroth yaoi. Or, Hojo raping Sephiroth. Yes, I realize that Sephiroth is Hojo's "son". Which makes Hojo a very, very perverse individual. And so does, in retrospect, make me a pretty sick individual for writing about it. But, then again, writers don't usually write without an audience, now do they? ; )
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Sephiroth sat, disinterested gaze shifting from the old, antiquated candle, the crumbling wax, to his pale, delicately boned hand, which he passed over the fire sporadically, moving back and forth, contemplating, calculating, wondering...
There was a shuffling from the cave outside. A shuffling that sounded larger than a rat, but smaller than most other land walking creatures found readily outside. He listened to the grotesque rhythm of the footsteps, the noise vaguely familiar, and his attention held rapt. He continued moving his hand over the candle, steady despite the nearness of the creature outside. The door creaked open, and Sephiroth paused in his musings.
Hojo stepped from the lurid darkness outside his sanctum, glasses catching what little light there was and shielding his eyes from view. Sephiroth turned to face the scientist, cold fire lighting his eyes with something dangerous.
"What. Are you doing here." he hissed, silver hair falling ominously before his face. He once again passed his hand over the small orange fire seemingly floating above a small pool of yellowish wax.
"I am here for you, my precious specimen." Hojo made a jab at his glasses, shoving the farther up his crooked nose.
"Haven't you done enough already." Sephiroth bitterly retorted. He clenched his fist, quickly, deliberately, causing the tiny flame to flicker. Shadows played across the his haunted features, dying both skin and hair temporarily a burnt orange colour.
"Hn. You are mine Sephiroth, I created you and I can undo you."
Sephiroth glared with lucid hatred at the shadow who would threaten him so. "You can undo me? You think you can?" he spat.
To this, Hojo chuckled. Sephiroth remained silent, staring at his supposed "creator". The scientist who'd taken his life away. The man who'd fed him lies and deceit for the better part of his life.
The one who dared impose himself now. Now, when he had only just made it out of that life.
"I hate you."
The wicked grin on Hojo's face only widened. His glasses slipped down his nose, exposing wild eyes that belied his normally calm composure. He straightened, spreading his arms in an insane embrace that only seemed to add to his formidable presence. Two or three hairs had worked their way out from the tight ponytail that held them back, now hanging loose before his twisted visage.
"I do believe that those sentiments are shared by most of Midgar, however not only for me..." he glanced at the silver-tressed ghost, causing a vicious hiss to escape between clenched teeth. Hojo took a step toward him.
"What do you want from me?!"
He pushed his glasses up with one finger. "You." Another step echoed throughout the foreboding chamber, macabre embrace still held toward an unseen entity. "Your soul." The candlelight flickered, casting orange shadows unto the blackened stone. "Your body."
"You... you're sick. SICK!"
Somehow, Sephiroth found himself backed against the bookshelf. The old chair that was formerly occupied by his weight clattered to the floor, and Hojo continued to advance. Sephiroth reached for his sword, only to discover that the sheath hung empty, then recalling where it had gone. He glanced at the table where it lay, polished steel sparkling mockingly in the light. He swore silently at his carelessness.
"I'll kill you with my bare hands, Hojo." He assumed battle stance, falling back onto his SOLDIER training.
"Will you now?" Once again, Hojo lowered his arms, clasping his hands behind his back. His expression turned back to a semblance of what it was, however his eyes never lost their insane light. They were face to face, fetid breath washing over Sephiroth's cat-like features. He barely flinched.
"Hn. You're going to kill me then." Hojo smoothed back the three black clumps of hair that jutted from his forehead. He looked up at Sephiroth with ravenous hunger, incurable darkness. "Well?"
Sephiroth was struck speechless. The great General of Shinra, struck down by a disgusting worm half his size and dwarfed a thousandfold by his power.
And so the worm began to laugh. The genius, twisted by dark curiosity and madness, tainted by innumerable trials and the promise of infinite power, stood before the General and laughed. And as the laughter receded, he was transformed into something... different.
Something inhuman.
And before he realized it, Hojo had made his move. His fingers closed around the glowing orb, the materia, that would be his specimen's downfall. He took a deliberate step, agile for a man his age, shoving the magical sphere deep within his body.
Sephiroth recoiled, tremors wracking his lithe frame, gasping as air was forced out of his system by the sheer power of the blow. His eyes glazed over, and it was all he could do to remain conscious. Calculating eyes bored into him as the hand retracted, allowing him to collapse to the hard stone floor. Even then the pain did not recede, and he shook, curling into a fetal position at the madman's feet. He broke into cold sweat, a feeling of nausea forcing it's way up his throat. A sensation of intense heat graced the area where the materia still glowed within him, but still he fought the sickness.
Hojo looked down upon his prey, slightly stooped and with his hands concealed behind him. His narrow visage bore an expression of triumph, an expression that angered Sephiroth. He stirred, just managing to get to his knees, but doubling over moaning and clutching his sides when the effort proved too much. Hojo, again, grinned triumphantly. He delivered a harsh kick to his stomach, causing him to retch and roll away in renewed agony.
He now lay prone on the ground, vulnerable, expression that of pure torment. Straddling his hips, Hojo proceeded to strip the squirming man of his clothing, leather squeaking and multiple belts clinking together as they were thrown aside like so much rubbish.
Sephiroth felt the brush of fabric against his naked flesh, the cold of metal from zippers and the touch of Hojo's calloused hands. He shivered at the cold in the air, the aura of evil the man seemed to emit. The purr of a zipper seemed the only noise in the silence, Hojo not even bothering to remove all of his clothes.
Hojo flipped him over, and then was thrust inside him. He bit back a cry, clenching his jaw and fists in a vain attempt to stop the screams that bubbled their way to the surface, the curses that threatened to overwhelm. To utter a sound would be to submit.
He refused to submit.
Thrust after thrust came, and Sephiroth closed his eyes, angry tears welling up behind closed lids. Hojo came down on him hard and fast, causing pain to radiate up and down his spine. His entire body felt heavy, the materia was taking it's toll, and he let Hojo take him without moving. His cheek scraped against the floor, silver silk knotting and falling in curtains over his face.
The pain faded to a dull throb as Sephiroth receded into his own mind-- a technique developed over years of torment at the hands of this man.
There was still pain, yes, but he was unaware of it. He lost sense of his body, his self. And suddenly, the intrusive presence was gone.
There were heavy, echoing footsteps as Hojo left the dark chamber without a single word. Sephiroth was left trembling on the ground, silver eyes wide yet unseeing and pupils dilated, blood and sweat covering his form and matting his hair. The materia in his system left a residual glow-- just to the right of his beating heart.