Disclaimer: I do not own CCFF7, FF7, any of that. I just write this craziness.
Warnings: lemon yaoi, an OC (who is not involved in said lemon), voyeurism, questionable photography, Sephiroth/Genesis.
Author's Note: This has been a long time coming… no pun intended. This is from the point of view of a Turk whom I've never mentioned in The Memory of Falling, but might briefly have in Fallen and a bit more in A Soul Seeking Holy. This takes place after A Taste of Banora and before the next chapter. IE, they are still in Banora. And yes, it was this fic that made me call this whole series Photographs.
HAPPY SEPHESIS DAY!!!
BENEATH THE APPLE TREE
After living and working out of Midgar for so long, she had forgotten what the countryside was like. The rolling hills, the arched trees, the soft sunlight, it was all very alien now. Her shoes crunched softly as she walked across the crisp green grass. There was no need to stay hidden for now, though soon her talents would be put in to play.
Tseng owed her for this.
Glancing down, she fiddled with her camera, changing the settings to work better in the lighting she was bound to work in. Though it was sunny outside, glaringly so, she would have to be sitting somewhere in deep shadows to go unseen, undetected, by these two stars of SOLDIER. If she was discovered… Akane was certain Tseng would get a bag of her dismembered parts rather than a report in the coming week.
Frowning, Akane sidestepped behind an outcropping of the cliff, pressing her back to the jagged, uncomfortable rock wall. She could hear faint talking, just too far away to make out exactly what was being said, though she could tell who was saying it. The languid, flowing tones of Genesis reached her ears first, followed by the low, clipped pattern of Sephiroth's voice.
The hike to this spot had taken over an hour for her, and she was far from out of shape. Turks needed to be fit. Running around in broad daylight in a pressed black suit would cause issues for anyone, though. Akane tugged lightly at her tie, loosening it just enough so it didn't feel like a businessmen's noose anymore. That was better, though it was still hot out.
Sometime in the near future Akane would have to send Tseng a thank you letter. A very angry thank you letter with some blackmail enclosed, to keep with Turks tradition. Akane was already thinking about what she could possibly enclose to make the quiet, serious Wutaian man cringe when something else cut through her concentration.
It was a moan.
Akane's frown deepened. She wasn't sure which one of them made that sound because she had never heard such an utterance come from either before. Yes, she'd heard the grunt of battle, but that, that was something much different.
Crouching, Akane pulled the lens cap off her camera, leaning around the corner with the little viewfinder pressed to her light brown eye. Akane took a shot of the surroundings, to establish where the photographs would be from, a part of Turk protocol. That done, she worked the zoom lens, patiently moving in visually with the focus. At least Tseng had provided her with a telephoto lens rather than asking her to commit certain suicide with a wide angle or just the average lens. Those required her to be too close, and that would definitely be the end of her.
At first she focused on a patch of trees, or their leaves, rather, the foliage thick and full, purple dumbapples hanging here and there. She still did not understand why such a nature-confused fruit could possibly considered a delicacy, but to each their own, she supposed. Right. Rolling her eyes, she turned the camera slightly, having to readjust her cliff-hugging crouch to stop her shoulder from cramping.
That was when she saw it.
At first, all she saw was waving silver hair, what seemed to be forever of it, and she knew immediately that she located half of Tseng's problem. Sephiroth, the silver General, had his back to her, for which Akane was thankful. She had never been sure how well mako did enhance, and she wasn't willing to be the field study on its effects on eyesight. Or hearing. Akane took another shot, the soft click and whirr of the camera making her cringe.
A grated moan made it to her ears. That sound was another foreign one to her ears. Akana frowned, zooming a little more. She tilted the camera down, trailing over the cascade of silver hair only to find pale, smooth skin rather than the black leather she had been expecting.
She almost dropped the camera.
Instead, she shifted her angle again, right cheek now leaning against the cliff, that slight shift further to the side allowing her to see what—or rather who—was under the General. Genesis. The other half of Tseng's inquiry. Tseng had no idea that he was in line to view an exclusive porno shoot when she got back. At least half of Midgar would kill for such photos. Hells, she was certain just about everyone in the ShinRa would give that year's salary to see it and not die, half a year's salary if they were killed in the process.
Akane snapped a few more photographs, catching Sephiroth on the out swing, one in the middle, the last will all of his muscles taut as his and Genesis' bodies met. Genesis had his back partially against the gnarled trunk of one of the Banora White trees, and with how hard of a pounding he was taking, that was going to leave a mark. Sephiroth had one hand planted on the grassy ground as support, the other clutching the redhead's ass, holding it up from the ground, to his angled thrusts.
The longer Akane lingered and watched, snapping photos now and then, the louder Genesis' sounds of pleasure, and added to that, surprisingly, was a low purr. Akane's eyes widened when she realized the rumbling, sultry sound came from the General himself. His head was ducked, nuzzled into the crook of Genesis' neck, pale cheeks flushed slightly pink. The look on Sephiroth's face was one of rapture. She snapped a picture of that, too.
She had a feeling in her gut—which was rarely wrong—that these photographs would be the only relic of their happiness one day.