-1Holding Hands We'll Fall
Cloud/Sephiroth
R

Part Three: Touch

"Sephiroth…"

A multitude of questions flitted about Sephiroth's head, but one stood out above all others. Why was Cloud calling to him in his sleep? Especially when he… He stared, eyes traveling downward again to observe the hand that was softly moving beneath the covers. The sheer intimacy of the situation suddenly struck him. Cloud was sleeping. In his own bed, in his own room, and Sephiroth was standing here, watching him, as he pleasured his own flesh… A hint of color crept past Sephiroth's defenses, and his pupils dilated noticeable. He licked his suddenly dry lips. He should leave. Only…

Something willed him to stay, to see Cloud as he could never have him. Free, and comfortable, and giving… His eyes stayed glued on Cloud's hand-shaped mound beneath the blankets, following the distinct motions. A low, burning pang rippled through him as his body started responding. What would it feel like to have Cloud's small, gentle hand wrapped around his shaft? How fast would he go? How hard would he squeeze? How long would it take for Sephiroth to give himself up to the loving ministrations of this beautiful young man and finally release into his coaxing hands?

Sephiroth allowed himself to be caught up in the rhythm, to let his questions and insecurities, his desires and his identity to all fall away. All that existed in this moment, was Cloud and his stroking hand.

Cloud whimpered suddenly, his hips thrusting up, apparently needing more than his slumbering attentions were giving him. Sephiroth's mouth watered. It would be so easy to put his hands on Cloud now, to tear away the blankets and sink his hungry mouth down over that aching flesh, just as he'd done countless times in the past. But that was what he always did, and he had come here in hopes of somehow seeking a change…so he remained where he was, uncertain and wanting.

His hissed as he continued to watch Cloud struggle for release, and looked down to discover that his own hand had betrayed him. For the very first time in Cloud's presence, he had touched himself. The relief of it was almost his undoing. He snatched his hand away from his aching, protesting sex. He needed this, but…not now, not here… He paused. Why was it that he wouldn't even pleasure himself when he was with Cloud? What was the point in denying himself so completely? Was it because he didn't want the boy to see what he wasn't willing to give him? Or simply because seeking sexual pleasure in that way could be construed as a weakness?

Sephiroth snapped, the strain finally wearing him down. As if in a daze, he slid his hand back to the front of his pants and slowly undid the fastenings. A rush of forbidden arousal sizzled through him. What he was doing was unorthodox, ill-advised, and ridiculously risky. If he were anyone else, he could get into a lot of trouble for this. And if Cloud discovered him… Well…he'd cross that bridge if and when he came to it.

The first touch of Sephiroth's hand on his skin was like a jolt of electricity, burning his flesh with the threat of power. He forced back a pleasured hum as he encased his flesh in the tight grip of his hand and began to move. He matched Cloud thrust for thrust, letting the sleeping man lead their joint passion, his eyes never leaving the form of his young lover. Heaven was in this room, so tauntingly close, yet somehow still unattainable, and Sephiroth yearned to reach out for it, if only someone would show him how.

He panted in rough, silent gusts of breath, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out across his skin. Cloud thrashed heavily, his hips never-ceasing their rocking movements now as he climbed closer and closer to wherever his dreams were taking him, unknowingly taking Sephiroth along with him.

Sephiroth shuddered and stilled his movements slightly. If Cloud didn't hurry, Sephiroth was going to leave him behind, and there was no way that Sephiroth was going to allow himself to climax before his lover, although it was looking like he may not have any choice, short of stopping his ministrations, and he was too far gone for that.

Another groaning whimper escaped Cloud's lips, and Sephiroth came apart at the seams. A deep, twisted pleasure scoured through him, stripping him bare of everything that he was, leaving behind an empty void of numbness and satiation. "Cloud…" The word left his lips unbidden as he convulsed into his hand, release flooding out into his palm, the scent of his thick, tangy musk permeating the air.

Looking over at the bed with glazed eyes, Sephiroth saw that Cloud was still struggling, his satisfaction hovering just beyond his reach. The man's flushed face was drawn up in an expression of tortured bliss, and tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. "Seph…" Cloud cried his name again in such a desperate, pleading voice, that Sephiroth was a slave to its will.

Wiping the proof of his indiscretion on a towel that was draped over the back of Cloud's desk chair, Sephiroth took the final step to the side of the bed. The blanket fell away without much prodding, leaving Cloud's writhing, sweating form bare to his eyes. Slowly, Sephiroth extended his hand and touched the boy's skin.