Red Equals Passionate
[A glimpse becomes a look; they could not be more different but they still balance each other out. GenesisxRosso; drabble series]
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the FFVII franchise.
A/N: Mentions of sex; anyway, I'm pretty sure I meant for this piece to be mostly serious...and then it somehow turned crack-ish at the end. It doesn't help matters that I can totally see Rosso emasculating poor Gen like this...This was meant to be in Rosso's PoV, but Gen stole the spotlight first...DX
I love Genesis' character as much as I love Rosso's...but the temptation of torturing him when Rosso is the "torture" method of choice in a pairing fic is too strong for me to resist.
Fights
Place two personalities sharing a singular trait—passion, for example—and the chances of a heated confrontation were inevitable.
This was the case with former First Class SOLDIER Genesis Rhapsodos and Deepground Tsviet Rosso the Crimson. It did not take too long for a simple discussion to evolve into a heated argument and a heated argument into a full-blown fight. The scorch marks on the steel walls of Rosso were evidence of their battles, while the messed up sheets and discarded clothes were the evidence of what followed the fights.
Angry makeup sex; it couldn't be called anything else if they forgave each other and/or compromised at the end of every round.
Even at this point, the battle would carry on only now they went from beating bruises into each other's bodies to a superiority complex; if married, marriage counseling would have been lost on both of them.
Rosso used her body to pin down the ex-SOLDIER, keeping him beneath her as she teased him. Mako-accented blue eyes glared back at her, promising vengeance once the owner of the eyes succeeded in freeing himself. She smirked back at him, a layer of arrogance contained within the smirk.
"I'll ask you again." A well-timed pause.
"Who's the queen here?"
Genesis sighed in resignation. It was probably good for his ego that Angeal, Sephiroth, or the puppy were not around to have met Rosso. They'd never let me live it down…
"You are."
Rosso did not let up on her grip or pinning him down, her smirk activating alarm sirens in his mind.
"Who's the little peasant boy who doesn't know his place?"
"……I am."
Yes, vengeance would come in swift and silent wings...