ready!
Very good, everyone! Quite a few of you guessed correctly, but as promised, the ribbon goes to the first to do so, so congrats, Ravendo! Those you beat include a Ninja and Amaya the Turk of the Decorum series fame (a.k.a. Ardwynna Morrigu and Key of Ra, respectively), so you should feel especially proud, 'cause the former is seriously a ninja, I think, and the latter knows waaay too much about explosives. Lock your doors, I guess, is what I'm getting at here. But YAY! Well done. The inspiration for the Koibito (who you'll meet later) was indeed the Sacred Band of Thebes. Interesting group. And, uh, no offense intended toward them for stuff that may happen in future chapters.
Enough history, let's get back to the groping.
NOT WRATH OF GODS
Chapter 25 - Pure As Prayer
"Our intel indicated that a group of men, all with ties of some sort to Wutai and all with anti-ShinRa sympathies, were engaging in suspicious activity centering around an abandoned warehouse in Sector Four. We had gathered credible reports of them dealing with weapon-sellers, obtaining explosive materials and trying to recruit local gang members into what the targets described only as 'revolt against the tyranny of ShinRa'. We surveilled the location for three days. We had intended to do so longer, but the sector's civilian population was beginning to notice the strangers and was growing alarmed. Thus we were forced to act yesterday afternoon at precisely four-thirteen, at which time we surrounded the facility, secured all exits and proceeded inside. Of the five targets, four were discovered inside. Target One, identity unknown, set off a flashbomb as a smokescreen and escaped under its cover. Target Two, identity unknown, triggered an incendiary device he was holding and died instantly. Target Three, who has given us the name Hankan, was subdued after a brief chase and is now in custody. Target Four, who has given no name but whom I believe to be a Wutaian kenjin or wise man, surrendered peacefully and is also in custody. We also seized a cache of weapons that seemed to be bound for Wutai's northern port of Kitakaikou, and documents that are being examined and translated now."
"I will assist with that, if necessary," Sephiroth said from the other side of the conference table.
"Thank you, General." His report given, Tseng sat down.
The president nodded. "All in all, a satisfactory mission. What do you think, Rufus?"
Beside him, the reddish-blond figure of the young vice president stirred out of deep thought, having heard everything but clearly not where he most wanted to be. Rufus had come into the meeting late, as he'd left Reno's side since the mission only reluctantly. If his lover had been injured, even the elder Shinra's wrath would not have been able to drag him here.
"I think, Father, the prisoners must be made to talk."
President Shinra took note of the chill in his son's voice and patted his shoulder with a soft laugh. "No need to be bloodthirsty quite yet," he said with a hint of pride. "Verbal threats first, right, Tseng?"
The head Turk nodded, but his eyes lingered for a few moments on Rufus. He'd known the boy for years, knew Rufus was not bloodthirsty, merely quiet and analytical; a son who wanted to please his father, and his only ruthlessness came out of that wish. Tseng remembered what Reno had confided to him about Rufus's feelings, and understood the young heir's quiet anger. He had long been lonely and did not wish to be so again, and every mission Reno went on threatened the happiness they'd found together.
Rufus and Reno are growing up. What a company to have to do it in. What a world.
A voice that sounded faintly musical had begun; Commander Rhapsodos was speaking. "I have a thought. Going with the theory that it is the Koibito we are facing again..." Here he paused, and when Sephiroth said nothing, continued. "They're fanatics who oppose not only ShinRa, but the established order of Wutai. I suggest that we inform Lord Godo of this developing danger and propose a temporary truce, so that together we can rid ourselves of a shared menace."
"Which will give us another foothold in Wutai and relieve us of providing all the manpower ourselves," Shinra murmured with a pleased expression. "Excellent, Genesis. What do you think, General?"
"I believe Godo could be convinced. Furthermore, he has the resources within Wutai to overcome any national sympathy that the Koibito may still be accorded." Sephiroth's liquid-silver eyes rested on the table as he spoke, deliberately. Whether other people realized it or not, those who didn't know him well, at least, always looked at him with an annoying intensity. "But the evidence must be presented in person, by someone Godo trusts to speak honestly. I will go."
"No!" Lazard said before he could stop himself, and flushed when he found all eyes curiously on him. "I mean, Godo himself informed us that he could not guarantee the general's safety in Wutai, even in a time of peace."
"I guarantee it," Sephiroth said coldly, looking straight ahead with a chillingly blank expression.
Genesis scowled prettily and leaned forward, undaunted by what he sometimes called Sephiroth's 'pissiness'. "Back then, the Koibito targeted you in particular. Are you insane?"
"No."
"I'm inclined to agree with them, General," the president said, putting an instant stop to all other voices. "We can't afford to risk you on an assignment someone else could do."
"Godo and I get along pretty well," Genesis volunteered. "And my sympathy for the Koibito is known. Moreover, of us three, I'm probably the best-liked in Wutai. Let me go."
Sephiroth's fingers tightened around his chair's arm-rests. Lazard hadn't though his beautiful hands could get any whiter. He looked at Sephiroth's face and found it pointing in Genesis's direction, seemingly expressionless but with eyes that appeared to be shouting something.
"Actually, sir," Lazard found himself saying, "maybe a non-SOLDIER would be less threatening. I, as a mere executive - "
"What is this?" Shinra interrupted wryly. "Has Wutai turned into a prime vacation spot without my knowledge? What's making everyone want to go?"
"The porn, would be my guess," Genesis said, and repressed laughter jostled the table from all sides. Even the president shook his head and chuckled.
"We require not only diplomacy but strength. Commander Rhapsodos, take a few SOLDIERs with you as an escort, light armor only."
"Yes, sir."
"Dismissed." President Shinra took note, with some passing curiosity, at his son's hasty departure, then shook it off. "If you are planning to stock up on...artwork, Genesis, see me before you depart. I have a list."
"Of course, sir." Once the bulky man had left, the 1st wrinkled his nose. "Ew, he's gonna make me buy het, or Gaia forbid, yuri! Tseng, help!"
The Turk commander looked with faint amusement at Genesis for a moment before excusing himself and heading in the same direction his employer had. With only Genesis, Lazard and Sephiroth remaining, the room's atmosphere turned instantly heavy with awkwardness and hesitation. In the moments before he succeeded in making it blank, the general's face resembled that of a creature suddenly caught in a trap. One in front if him and the other behind, Genesis and Lazard gazed at each other, showing no outright malice, nothing but cool courtesy, with only a hint of challenge. Sephiroth felt their emotions pulling at him like children engaged in tug-of-war, and anger flared up that he directed at Genesis.
"You should have spoken to me before volunteering for the Wutai mission."
"You're not mad about that," Genesis said, with a comfort and informality that Lazard envied. "You're just annoyed that I'm trying to protect you."
The temperature dropped several degrees in the space around Sephiroth's rigid frame. "I do not need to be protected," he said coldly, spitting out that last word as though it had a bad taste.
"Fine. But I'm not gonna stop. And don't think I'll be respectful about it, like the director."
What is he doing? Lazard thought in alarm. "Actually, Sephiroth, I'm sure Genesis was only...uh..."
"I love you the most." The commander spoke as though he hadn't heard Lazard at all. "I'll protect you even if you come to hate me for it."
A beat of silence and stillness. Then Sephiroth, speechless from anger or confusion or something else his mask-like face didn't show, turned and, with his remarkable hair billowing out behind him, stalked out of the room. Left alone with Genesis, Lazard looked at him with incredulous shock, and a little anger.
"Well, Director," the SOLDIER sighed, "shall we scramble ungracefully past each other in a race to see who can comfort him first?"
"I...I don't think Sephiroth would like that."
"He wouldn't. Very good."
Strangely, when Genesis smiled, there was very little malice in it - just about the same amount as usual. As a competitor for Sephiroth's heart, Lazard had expected sabotage, veiled threats, even an outright challenge. And yet what he was facing was barely a smirk. They had never faced each other like this, had hardly spoken since love had made them adversaries. Lazard was unsure what to say, so he settled for the question that was presently puzzling him most.
"Why did you antagonize him just now? It almost seemed like - "
"Like I was doing it on purpose?" Genesis sighed, and it sounded like a brief laugh. "Of course."
"Wh-What? Why?"
"Because, Director." A hint of scorn now crept into Genesis's voice and expression. "Because I'll be away for awhile, so he has time to stop being angry with me. I couldn't have him isolating himself from both of us, so I decided to jump in and rescue you. You'll forgive the absence of a white horse and heroic music, I trust."
Lazard's mouth fell open, his jaw wobbling. Genesis was pushing he and Sephiroth together, at his own expense, for Sephiroth's sake. Most people would not think him capable of such selflessness. The director, who had never hated Genesis but envied and felt bitterly toward him, felt humbled, impressed...and hurt. Lazard liked to think that no one cared for Sephiroth as he did, and yet Genesis... He puts me to shame.
"You...really love him."
Genesis's eyes gazed at him solemnly, displaying both peace and pain. "Boundlessly, eternally, infinitely. Since we were children."
Gods, how do I compete with that?
"You too, hmm?"
"Yes. Commander...I respect you. I'm glad Sephiroth has you in his life. But even if you believe you're the better match for him, I won't give him up."
A wide smile, a laugh that came out more haughty than it was meant to. "Of course I am, and of course you won't. I'd beat you bloody if you did."
"...what?"
"Seph cares for you," Genesis said airily. "If you abandoned him, I would make you pay. I would do the same if I thought you were toying with him or just in this to sleep with him. But it's more than that, it's love, and I must honor that."
"But you won't back down either."
"Never."
"Then, what do we do...with..."
"With this impasse we've reached? Well, we could fight to the death for him, with swords or subtlety. We could wage our own private war with lies and intimidation and perhaps a goblet of poisoned wine for good measure. Or you could grab one arm, I the other, and we could pull on dear Seph until he breaks. And he is capable of breaking."
"Stop," Lazard said harshly. "I don't want to do any of that. Who he is with should be Sephiroth's decision alone."
"How troublesome you are, Director. How unlike the previous admirers. Well, I'll win, ultimately, but if someone was going to come close..." Now Genesis strolled to the door, glancing back over his shoulder. "I'm glad it was you."
azazaza
Zack was restless from the moment he fell asleep, frowning, shifting, emitting soft groans that had Angeal on the edge of his seat, wanting desperately to comfort him. But the commander had been given permission to be in the room with his student only after promising he wouldn't approach or touch him without the doctors' permission. In the small observation room, three faces watched the sleeping teenager through the glass window...though Hollander's eyes frequently wandered, sadly, over to Angeal's tense form.
"He's taking a rather long time to get to the beta level," Dr. Oren commented, glancing at the brain-wave monitor.
McCall nodded. "Do you think it's the commander's presence? Should I pull him out?"
"Possibly, and no," Hollander murmured. "Wait a little longer."
Five minutes passed. Ten. If anything, Zack looked even more agitated; those watching him began to squirm in response.
"He needs to relax, the episodes only occur during beta," McCall said. "Should we give him a tranquilizer? Drugs don't seem to affect the attacks."
Hollander shook his head. "Give Angeal the okay to touch him. I think he can calm the boy."
Oren went to the door and softly called something to the commander. Angeal rose from his chair a little more eagerly than he'd intended and was at Zack's side almost instantly. "Puppy, it's all right," he murmured, running an open hand over the silky black hair. Oren and McCall were surprised to see Zack quiet and go still almost immediately.
"Remarkable," McCall whispered, as they watched Angeal regretfully return to his chair. "Brain activity's already decreasing. Beginning the shift into beta waves."
"How long - " Hollander began, but stopped at the sound of a chair suddenly pushed back over a linoleum floor; Angeal had leaped up. Oren and McCall, interrupted just before they could call attention to the video monitors, closed their mouths and looked directly at the subject.
Unmistakable. First, Zack's breathing began to accelerate. Then his hips jerked upward, again and again in a desperate, anxious sort of rhythm. Please, no more than this, Angeal prayed to any god who might be listening, and a silent wail ripped through his frozen body as Zack's bent legs lifted up to his chest. He heard the doctors enter (except Hollander, who stayed behind to watch the monitors and avoid facing his son's anguish any closer) but didn't take his eyes from Zack.
"Let me try to wake him."
"Commander, that has no effect, except possibly for hurrying the experience," Oren said apologetically. "Let me try something else."
Even as Oren spoke, McCall had hurried past them, a blur of white, and yanked the blanket off of Zack. After the now-routine attempt (and failure) to grasp hold of the invisible assailant, McCall began pinching Zack's skin in different spots, first lightly, then more sharply. Angeal held back his automatic objection to this in hopes it would actually work, but Zack didn't seem to register the rapid touches. The commander did step closer when McCall took a needle-like implement from his lab coat pocket, but Oren grabbed him by the elbow.
"We're trying to help him. Trust us."
He did...at least as much as he could bear to trust anyone with Zack. But Angeal could swear he felt each prick of the instrument. Zack yelped softly at them, though it was hard to be sure exactly what he was reacting to. His face showed both pleasure and pain, with the pleasure growing ever more dominant. It was the opposite for Angeal, who had felt a brief rush at seeing Zack aroused but now felt only anger and sickness at the horror of this.
"Minimal response to pain," someone said. "Brain waves?"
"Middle beta, no sign of REM."
"Prep five mgs of Revival and get a Med Sense readout."
The medical banter came to an awkward halt at what happened next. Angeal had thought this couldn't possibly get any harder to witness; he had forgotten Fate's indifference to human hurts. Zack's limp arms slowly, weakly rose as though reaching for something...his hands easily found what the others had sought without success, settling in mid-air as though clutching a pair of shoulders above him. "Fuck," Oren swore in a shaky voice. McCall, a steadfast worshipper of science alone, unconsciously made the Mideelian sign for petitioning Gaia, thumb and forefinger forming a circle in front of one's heart.
They recovered faster than Angeal, who felt his feet turn to lead at the sight of Zack smiling, smiling, the poor child forced to take pleasure from this violation. How dare this thing touch him, Angeal fumed, relieved the thought hadn't been How dare this thing touch what's mine! Oren went past him, slapped a syringe into the other doctor's hand, and McCall quickly wiped a spot on Zack's forearm before injecting it.
"What - " Angeal choked out.
"A stimulant, a strong one. It may be able to wake him."
"Now?" Didn't they realize how embarrassed Zack would be?
The medicine entered Zack's bloodstream quickly. More suddenly than the assault had begun, the boy's limbs fell back onto the bed, and there was a moment of silence and stillness. The oppressive air of the room was only noticeable now that it lifted, as if something were departing. But before anyone could express relief or even exhale, Zack's fingers flexed and scrambled in search of something they couldn't find, and still unconscious, the teenager broke into sobs that shattered every heart in the room. From a content albeit disturbing pleasure, they had consigned Zack to what looked like a nightmare of abandonment and misery.
Screw permission. Angeal practically flew to his student and lifted the slender upper body to hold against his chest. It was a small but welcome mercy that Zack hugged him back, burying his face in Angeal's shirt and clinging to him the way Zack always did in the aftermath of trauma. Heart aching to see his apprentice so distraught, Angeal tucked the boy's head beneath his chin and gently rocked him, whispering words of comfort.
"Ssh, Puppy, it's okay, I'm here, everything will be all right..."
Zack continued to wail and hold on as though he feared being ripped away, crying too hard to speak any audible words. Angeal hardly noticed the tear that ran down his own cheek as he soothingly stroked Zack's hair, but he noticed Dr. McCall approaching, and shot him a malevolent glare that halted him in his tracks. For a moment.
"I'm sorry, Commander. Please, I just want to take a look at him."
Angeal allowed this, grudgingly. Luckily Zack was too focused on his misery or the arms around him or both to notice the hands and eyes that carefully examined him for bruises and other evidence of assault. It was Angeal who tensed, not Zack, when the doctor folded back his hospital gown and frowned with a faint blush.
"What is it?"
"He...he hasn't ejaculated," McCall said quietly. "I believe he needs to, quite badly."
Angeal stared at the doctor. He would not let himself look...there.
"It's a simple biological imperative, Commander, and I think it may be why he's crying. Of course it's not Zack's fault that he's forced to enjoy what this thing does to him, but it is obviously pleasurable for him. If you look at it that way...then we didn't rescue him. We interrupted."
With this in mind, the way Zack's legs were squirming could be taken as the boy trying to get the stimulation he needed. Angeal held Zack tighter and realized for the first time that Zack had now and then looked sad when someone vowed to stop the unseen assailant from touching him again. He thought of the way Zack looked and behaved during the 'attacks' - happy, willing, writhing, moaning. And what had the boy said to Genesis? That he felt alone, except when he was asleep.
Angeal was startled out of his thoughts by the sight of McCall's hand going where he had never let anyone touch. "What are you - !"
` McCall didn't seem thrilled about this either. "Angeal, he's too far gone to leave like this. It may be part of what's upsetting him, and we need to calm him. He's asleep, he won't remember and he'll feel better."
"You're not touching him."
"Angeal - "
"I understand your reasons, Doctor, but too many strangers have touched him without permission. Too many have tried. I can't let you do what I've spent two years guarding him from." Zack's sobbing was a little quieter, but it was still with urgency that his hidden face nuzzled Angeal's throat and neck. Angeal brushed his lips over the spiky hair, smelling the familiar purple-flower shampoo. A scent of innocence. Angeal swallowed, with difficulty. "Zack is my responsibility. I'll do it."
McCall nodded after a moment. Behind him, Hollander was coming closer and saying "Angeal, that's not a good idea. You were just on trial for - "
"This is a necessary medical procedure that I can't allow a virtual stranger to perform," Angeal said shortly. "If required, you can all swear to that. Now, please. Zack would not want anyone to see this."
After a brief discussion among them, Hollander and McCall agreed to leave. Oren would remain as a witness for Angeal's protection, in the observation room with all the monitors. Impatient and knowing it was the best he'd get, Angeal agreed and waited till they were out of sight before drawing Zack's hospital gown up and folding it out of the way. If Gaia was merciful, Angeal thought, then the fire he felt in his face wouldn't be visible to the cameras. There was that rare, forbidden, so-beautiful-it-damned-him sight of Zack fully aroused, hard beyond the point of return. Being this far gone might even be painful...whatever the consequences, he couldn't allow his Puppy to remain like this with no relief.
Despite knowing he should hurry, Angeal rubbed his hand in a circular motion on Zack's taut stomach and murmured "Puppy, it's me. I'm gonna help you, okay? If you want me to stop...let me know somehow." More clinging, more heaving sobs. "Ssh, okay, you'll feel better soon. Just...s-sleep, Puppy."
Trying not to think, warning himself to not get anything out of this, Angeal finally took him in hand, and was encouraged with a groan that sounded needy. As business-like as he could, the commander wrapped his fingers around the blood-darkened shaft and started to work it carefully, up and down, doing what he did to himself when he needed release. It must have been what Zack wanted, because he thrust further into the hand that stroked him, and though he continued to weep the sobs had faded into aroused gasps. Angeal couldn't bring himself to hurry, as though this were a distasteful obligation. Conflicted though he was, there was one thing Angeal was sure of. He wanted Zack to feel loved and accepted and cared for.
"It's okay," he reassured, sensing that the boy was holding back. "It's all right, baby." Baby? Where did that come from?
Whether it was the endearment or not, something was getting through to Zack. The flood of tears dried up and the kid displayed only pleasure and urgency, his breathing matching Angeal's strokes in speed as he neared the peak.
"Ah! Ah! Ah..."
His cry was exultant as he came, its relief uncomplicated and un-guilty. Angeal wasn't so lucky. With one arm he cradled Zack and held him as he came down. His free hand hovered in mid-air, claw-like and frozen, splattered with sticky white. Zack was now sleeping in peace again, obviously it had been the right thing to do, but...
Angeal stared at his soiled hand, remembering suddenly his first kill and the remorse that followed. That guilt was nothing to this.
Poor Angeal. He got to touch and couldn't even let himself enjoy it. And poor Zack, as always.