Title: Chains of Rapture
Pairing:
VincentxCloud, RenoxCloud, SephirothxCloud
Rating:
R
Warnings:
AU, OOC, angst, yaoi, non-con, self-mutilation, rape, abuse (physical/mental/emotional), language, violence
Summary:
It's been three years since he saw those eyes and tasted those lips. Would life be kind enough to grant him this last chance?
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor do I own any of the music mentioned within this story. I do, however, own any and all OC's, so if you wish to use them then please ask for permission first before hand. Thank you and enjoy!

Chapter 9

A few hours went by and the deliveries were finished. After stopping by the store to let Kei know they were completed and to drop off the invoices, he began to make his way back to the ShinRa building. His nerves were on fire, wondering what that bastard wanted from him.

Despite all the things the silver-haired General had done to him in the past, he continued to go back to him after...well, awhile. Every time he went back, he could feel the physical pain that the man inflicted for pure enjoyment, but it never registered until after he arrived home.

Arriving in the parking lot, he parked in the back of the building (per Sephiroth's orders so not to arise suspicion), and began the long walk to the top floor of the large building. His mind wandered as he walked into the cool building, to the elevator, and up to the floor.

He got his life together, or as together as a fucked up slave could get it, before one night of bar hopping crumbled it to pieces. Furrowing his brow as he absently bobbed his head to the metal beat ringing in his ears, he tried to sort it all out. Do I still love him—truly?

When the doors opened, he walked onto the plush crimson carpet and made his way to the end of the hallway. Stopping at the last door, he paused before raising his hand up and knocked on it twice, softly and hesitantly. Shifting to one foot, he suddenly felt shy and completely powerless. Shutting off his music player, his hand brushed against his phone but he paid no mind to it.

The door opened to reveal Sephiroth in all his glory, his long silver hair cascading over one pale shoulder in a damp fashion, wearing only a pair of black silkened pants that hung off of his hips. His Mako green eyes held a glint of mischievousness before he spoke, "Come."

Come. That single word sent a shiver down Cloud's spine, reminding him of dark places and crimson eyes. Sparing the thought as the General moved out of his way, he stepped into the expertly cleaned apartment. Despite the tidiness that the home held, he knew that it's walls were soaked in blood—his blood.

Another shiver worked down his spine as he slid off his boots and looked up over at Sephiroth who now sat on the dark leather couch. The blonde bit the inside of his cheek as he forced his face to shield itself, not betraying his emotions of inner turmoil what so ever. When he sat down (he didn't realize that he had even moved), those cursed lips grazed his ear with a deep whisper, "I want to play."

Blue eyes slightly widened in fear before the hard gaze they held fell into their default dead color. Hands fell over his body, clothes falling to the floor in flurries of heated kisses and harsh bites. His body could take the beating, it always did. As the General's lips made their way down his chest, his phone rang out loudly from the pile of clothes.

Pausing, Sephiroth looked into Cloud's eyes before reaching for the phone. Looking at the screen, his gaze went from lustful to rage in a heartbeat. "What is he doing calling you?" His voice dripped venom as he shoved the phone in the blonde's face to show the name it displayed. Vincent. Cloud only blinked, his mind not catching up with the scene unfolding.

"No matter," Sephiroth said almost nonchalantly, "you're mine. And I'll soon make you remember that." As he lowered back onto Cloud's chest, he bit hard onto his supple flesh causing the blonde to whimper and close his eyes tightly. He felt his mind disconnect with his body once more as the pain began to grow into something barely tolerable.

His soul knew that with each passing moment, he was dying inside again. Memories of past agony rushed past him and he shivered slightly, his Mako blue eyes glazing over as Sephiroth's hands and mouth reaped him of his blood and any pleasure he ever knew of.

Cloud's sense of time disappeared; for all he knew, he'd been laying here on this man's couch for months, but he couldn't find it in himself to care anymore. Closing his eyes slowly, he envisioned crimson eyes staring into his openly, showing all those emotion he knew were normally hidden. Even when Sephiroth continued to beat that beautiful body, scaring it into more of an imperfection, he only heard one line over and over.

Would you mind if I killed you?

oOo

It was almost midnight when he finally dragged himself home, his body trembling slightly. After he closed the door to his apartment, he slumped against it, closing his eyes as he took in a shaky breath. He went too far again, he thought sadly as he tried to muster up the energy to get himself into the shower. Toeing off his boots, he pushed himself off of the door and began to slip off his motor gear.

"Cloud?" Blue eyes opened slowly and looked towards the hallway where Vincent stood, in his signature leather, cape, and headband. Shaking his head slightly, Cloud just dropped his things where he stood and trudged his way towards the bathroom. Stumbling slightly when he got to the hall closet, he braced himself on the wall with a slight moan.

Closing his eyes again, he bit his split bottom lip harshly to try and gain some kind of focus. I need to get clean, come on, dammit!

An arm wrapped itself around his shoulders, helping support his weight. Opening his eyes, he looked to see Vincent holding onto him. "'m fine," he mumbled, his head swimming slightly. Shrugging the arm off of him, he pulled out a towel and dragged himself into the bathroom where he closed the door. Placing the towel on the sink, he stripped himself of his clothing, not bothering to glance at the mirror to assess the damage.

He knew how bad it could be, looking at it wouldn't make any difference what so ever. Turning the water on, he let it run until the steam filled up the whole room. What the hell, he thought carelessly as his eyes lifted to the mirror. His blue eyes widened slightly at the extent of his battered state.

Bruises covered his neck in the shape of fingertips, bite marks along his shoulders, chest, and stomach. He had a nasty bruise that began to form on his jaw, and plenty more on his stomach. His own blood was smeared across his chest, his nipples purple from abuse. He could see that the teeth marks that were left behind were scabbing over already, but still looked ugly all the same.

Red emotion covered his senses and he let out a feral growl before slamming a fist onto the counter top, hanging his head in defeat. He went too far, all because of a phone call?

A hesitant knock resounded from the door, but he made no answer as he slowly turned to get into the shower. When he closed the dark curtain, he heard the door open slowly and Vincent's voice carry over the sound of the shower. "Cloud? Are you alright?" The blonde growled softly before replying that he was alright, why would it matter anyways?

Just sitting underneath the almost boiling water seemed to make it better. Letting his shaking hands cover his face, he sank to his knees, utterly broken as a silent sob wracked through his body. He didn't move when he felt the cold air from the curtain wash over his wet skin; or when he felt the warmth of soap run across his flesh in a soothing manner.

His blue eyes peered from between his fingers to stare at the water that had a pink tint to it from the blood run down the drain. "What has become of you, Little One?" He didn't move at the question when the water disappeared and arms wrapped around him to help him into the large towel.

The events of the night caught up with him as he was now dressed in a pair of boxers that Vincent had gotten for him, and led him onto the couch. Sitting down, the blond drew his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them protectively, dead gaze staring at everything and nothing.

After a few minutes, he was wrapped up in a large blanket and a steaming cup of tea sat on the table untouched. The ex-Turk sat next to him, unsure of what to do. Running his hand through his damp blond spikes, he finally chanced a look towards the older man, seeing the unguarded worry in those crimson eyes. "What are you still doing here?"

His tone was harsh, but so soft it almost was missed by the gunslinger. "I—was going to wait for you to come home," he said, placing a hand on Cloud's shoulder. "I wanted to talk to you."

Looking back to the floor, he felt his heart hammer in his chest from the slight contact, but nothing else. Silence passed between the two, until finally that hand moved and grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm out to twist the blond to face Vincent. With a sharp gasp, Cloud struggled in his grip but after a moment, gave up.

Closing his eyes, he felt those eyes boring into his skin horribly. He isn't supposed to be here, he thought dismally, he's not supposed to see what I've become. Soft caresses ran across his skin and he shivered slightly at the touch, a pained whimper escaping his throat. "How long has this been going on?"

The blond shook his head, his own way of saying 'drop it'. "No, Cloud." Blue eyes looked up into crimson, seeing the undying concern in them. "Tell me," his voice almost pleaded, "was this—because of me?" Cloud flinched at that, biting his cheek to keep from saying anything. After a moment, the blond shook his head again.

"No," he said weakly, his voice reverting to its broken chords. "That—wasn't the only reason." He could feel the beginning of the emotion return in his chest, and it ached, oh Shiva it hurt so bad. To have this man he once loved—might still—holding onto him as if he didn't, he'd break; to have everything shoved back in his face in the span of a week.

"What is going on, Cloud? When have I lead you to believe you couldn't trust me enough to talk to me?" Tears began to sting his eyes again, the pain escalating until it filled every void part of his body. The words registered slowly, his gaze softening from being pained to thoughtful. He could make up an excuse, really, but for some reason he just didn't want to.

He wanted to curl up into those hands that were tracing the scars and scabs on his wrists, let the tears come, and hide away from the world in that warmth he knew would be there. "I'm not worth it," he whispered hesitantly, blue eyes opening to stare at the floor once more. "Everything fell apart--." What are you doing? His mind screamed, trying to get his mouth to quiet down.

"I was—so alone, Vincent." When he said the older man's name, it was barely a whisper, more like his lips forming the word. His body began to shake slightly, his hand falling from the ex-Turk's grasp to land back in his lap. "Talk to me, Cloud."

Blue eyes shifted to his house guest, staring into his face for anything out of place. His brow furrowed slightly before shaking his head and turning to sit back on the couch, his arms folding over his knees. "Who hurt you like that?"

Silence greeted his answer as azure eyes gazed at the floor once more, in a last resort of defiance. Finally, he whispered so softly that the ex-Turk barely caught it, "Do you really have to ask?"

oOo

Aww, poor Cloud! :sniffle: I didn't go into great detail with that scene with Sephy because I don't think I could have handled it. :shudder: Evil... Please don't kill me! :hides: