Disclaimer: I don't own them, they own me.
Warning: erm... angst? cliched-ness?
AN: One-shot, but can be read as a sequel to Nephilim. Title snatched from Kamelot.
AN2: With my last small story, Attraction have reached past fifty reviews. Thank you all my wonderful readers! This one is dedicated to all of you for being this kind and wonderful and giving me so many happy moments along the way. And to Jenna, because she is amazing. Thank you!
"This could be the last time, you will
Stand by my side
I can feel my soul it's bleeding,
Will you fly with me this evening?"
/Three Doors Down – By My Side/
--
„Sephiroth, stop!" Genesis' voice came out a long, suffocating whine, muscles tensing in objection, but his weak opposition was nothing to the other man who stayed sternly silent, gripping Genesis' wrist tighter.
With a sudden rush of terrified anger, Genesis jerked his hand free. „I said stop!"
Sephiroth looked at him trying to come across as strong and confident even though his body was trembling, fear and pain and shame written all over his face. He shied away from the silver haired general, arms sneaking around his own waist.
„I don't want to do this," he whispered, eyes downcast. Sephiroth stepped close, tracing Genesis' cheekbone with the back of his fingers.
„Gen…"
„No."
„Gen, look at me." He didn't know what worked on the other man, his reassuring tone or the soothing touch, but Genesis slowly raised his head, locking their eyes. Not even during the madness of the Wutaian War had he ever seen the azure eyes like this… It gripped at Sephiroth's heart as he ran a hand through brown locks, stroking them back from that beautiful face. „Do you trust me, songbird?"
For a long time he though he'd receive no answer, but then he heard the quiet, barely there whisper. „You know I do."
„Then let me go through with this. It's only you and me here, only the two of us," Sephiroth almost purred with velvet-wrapped persuasion, his thumb running lazy circles on ivory skin. For a few moments he waited, then, as Genesis slowly nodded, he allowed himself a small smile and an equally small peck to one delicate eyebrow. „Give me your hand."
He saw Genesis' eyes freeze over, but the narrow hand came to rest in his, filling him with an oddly warm feeling. He slowly lifted it up, giving it a reassuring squeeze, then cautiously guided the bare fingers until they touched the soft, silky feathers billowing in the gentle breeze, shining dark in the light of the dying sun.
Genesis cringed visibly with the touch, but the black leather clad hand held his tightly, leaving no chance to pull away. His eyes burned, chest heaving with moist, suffocating breaths, fingers itching to get away from… from…
He shut his eyes, tears threatening to run freely once again, and while he could let them flow when he was alone, he wouldn't do it now, not here, not now, not like this. His fingers tore into the heavy, satiny mass of feathers, as if that would make his wing disappear, as if the pain would purify him from its cursed existance, but he was stopped once again, slender, leather-clad fingers sliding between his and clutching tightly, securely, reassuringly.
„Don't."
The deep, silken voice was full of tenderness, it made him want to snap, to scream, to curl into a ball and shut the world out.
A world he no longer belonged to.
„It's not your fault," Sephiroth spoke again, as if reading his thoughts, and Genesis forced open his burning eyes.
„It is your fate. Your dreams and pride are no more. From the Goddess's bow, the fated arrow is released."
The familiar words hurt, their truth hurt like he was trying to force sharp blades up his throat, making his voice raw, traitorous, shredded red velvet. His head was reeling with the acrid sickness gripping him so tight he had difficulties breathing, like he was choking on his own words and he shut his eyes once more.
„Genesis…," he could feel fingers sliding under his chin clad in soft, cool, nice-smelling leather, tilting it up, but he refused to open them again, to look into those shining green like a cat's. „Look at me, songbird."
The voice was so soft, almost affectionate, but there was no mistaking that it was not a request, but an order, laced with so much power and dominance that in his current state, Genesis couldn't even dream about resisting it. The last rays of the sun landed in the azure pool of his irises and lit them up with a sorry replacement of their usual fire, yet so blindingly beautiful.
It took a moment or two for them to trully start seeing, and they went wide with stunned disbelief, and his free hand reached out to catch one slightly iridescent black feather that landed on his palm softly and silently, until another roll of the gentle breeze sent it flying once again.
Sephiroth flapped his own wing, pulling the redhead with him and stretching out his other hand invitingly too, a smile in his eyes that didn't reach his lips because they were gently pressed into silently trembling ones before their feet slowly rose from the ground.
