Warnings: Emotional stuff then some sexy stuff. If you don't like explicitness, PM me and I'll send you an abridged version.
Chapter 36 : Blue Moon City
It bothered Zack. Something about yesterday, last night... even this morning. Seph's behaviour had been off, somehow. Nobody would've noticed—nobody had noticed—but he'd known the silver-haired warrior longer, and better, than anybody else left alive.
The General was always focussed when on a mission but he was never unaware. Several times, this morning, one of the others said something to him only to have to repeat it before it seemed to sink in.
Maybe he'd changed, Zack wondered but rejected the idea. Sure, he'd been kind of busy since Seph had broken them out of the lab; lots of things to adjust to, but he'd been aware of everything. The First had been comparing the current world—and the people in it—with what he'd known before, and Sephiroth had been fine up until Tseng's arrival.
Maybe it was the mission.
Sephiroth had spent nearly thirty years believing Hojo was his father and now he was on a mission to kill the man. Even though he was a creepy, sadistic slug that should've been squashed years ago, the idea of killing him might be freaking the General out. If that was the case then the problem was easy to solve: Zack would kill him. As ugly as the idea was, Zack would enjoy killing that fucking bastard. He might enjoy it too much but, he shrugged mentally, everybody had to have a dark side.
As the day wore on, though, Zack began to suspect it wasn't the idea of killing Hojo that was bothering the General. He just wished he could figure out what it was, before whatever it was happened and it was too late for him to do anything to help.
He puzzled at it, as he bounded along the skeleton road, talking first to Tseng then to Tifa. Just when he'd worked his way up to walking beside the General, the trees thinned and the landscape changed. They'd been climbing steadily, a gradual slope that even city-bred Tseng had no trouble with, but now it angled back down again and, since the forest was replaced by low bushes, ferns and brambles, they had a clear view of a wasteland of ruined buildings.
"Huh," the First rocked back on his heels, "I guess I was right about the Lost Civilization thing."
"Tifa had it right," Cloud decided, "She said it would be a 'decrepit village mysteriously abandoned by a forgotten people'."
"Not forgotten," Sephiroth disagreed, "Just extinct. This is the home of the Cetra—the Ancients. They lived here for unknown centuries before the Calamity fell from the sky, infecting Jenova, and causing family to fight family. They cleansed most of the virus from the planet, destroyed it, but doing so meant Cetra killing Cetra and so they destroyed everything they were," His voice wasn't quite detached, "They had been the dominant race on Gaia. After Jenova they were only tattered remnants, scattered and dying. But every one of them was sworn to protect the planet by whatever means necessary." His voice trailed away into the wind.
The poetic recitation from the normally blunt swordsman stunned the rest of them into silence.
As if sensing all the eyes on him, the General gathered his mask of calm professionalism around him. "We should be able to find shelter there. Perhaps someplace we can have a fire." He strode away leaving the others to follow at will.
Cloud angled himself next to his taller friend, automatically lowering his voice like they had in their cell at the lab. "Is it just me," he asked quietly, "or did that sound like 'famous last words'?"
"It came awfully close, didn't it," Zack responded, running anxious fingers through his unruly hair. "And last night... it was sweet, but weird."
Cloud looked up at him a faint flush on his cheeks, "I-I wasn't sure," he stammered, "I've hardly any memories of him. I feel like I know him, but at the same time, that I don't, you know?"
The dark-haired First looked down at his friend with sympathetic eyes, "I could say yes, but I'd be lying. Hojo didn't mess with my brain the way he did yours. I remember everything just fine." The last sentence was said with a grim acceptance and Cloud realized that maybe, in some ways, he was to be envied his cheese-grater memories.
"Anything we can do about it?" Cloud asked.
"Can't think of anything," Zack answered. He looked at the others, all waiting for them to fall in behind Sephiroth and he jerked his head at the Corporal and they began walking. "It's hard to think of anything when I don't know what's causing it." Cloud hummed a sad agreement. "All we can do is keep an eye on him and be available for when he's ready to talk about it."
"You're going to leave him alone and not bug him?" Cloud didn't believe it.
"Fuck, no," Zack scoffed, "You're going to leave him alone and not bug him and be all supportive and shit. I'm going to tease the hells out of him. If he tries to kill me, just keep everyone else safe."
Cloud's eyebrows were raised. "If he tries to kill you," he repeated dubiously.
Zack shrugged a little, "Probably won't happen."
"Uh-huh," the Corporal's disbelief hadn't gotten any lighter.
Zack turned to him, grinned, and slapped him on the shoulder, "Even if he does, I'm good, I'd survive." Then he sauntered off, the perfect picture of complete self-confidence.
Cloud stopped, still trying to process it. "You're a complete loon, you know that right," he called after the First. Zack just waved and kept walking.
Watching him stride away, Cloud felt like he'd lived through something like this before. That Zack had led him into potential death with a grin and a swagger. It had turned out okay that time; he was sure of it, but the memory—if memory it was and not some hallucination—was fuzzy and filled with static. There'd been stairs. It had been dark. A dark tunnel. Things in the dark. Zack had killed those things. A room, a room with books. No, not books. Tubes. A cold metal table. A voice saying 'he's coming out of it' answered with 'impossible!' He knew that voice. Hated that voice. Prayed to that voice to give him a number...
...the time… has come...
Suddenly a sharp pain ran up from his chest and stabbed into his temple. He winced and hunched against the pain. He brought his hand up to massage it but it was already gone. What the fuck? He squinted against the pale sunshine but the pain didn't return. Was this one of the symptoms Dr. Imeera had warned about? This was so not the time to start suffering mako withdrawal. He opened his mouth to call his friend back, to warn him and then he shut it again. What could Zack do? There was no clinic, no medicines, no way to prevent it; besides, it could just be a reaction to the forest and everything that had happened? Why give the First something more to worry about?
With a shake and shrug, he forced the incident from his mind.
He'd already fallen behind the others. They'd bunched up, both as protection from the wind but also because there was no place for hostile creatures to hide in the stunted greenery. Sephiroth, in the lead, and Cloud, trailing behind, were the only two not in the main group. Cloud hurried up the path in time to hear Zack's voice drifting over the landscape. "So, can we do some treasure hunting because, if this is the home of the Ancients I want to see if I can find Aerith something. That would be friggin' cool, wouldn't it?"
"Maybe we can find out more about what the Cetra did to contain the virus," Tseng's controlled voice also floated easily in this oddly barren, alien setting, "That would be more useful than a trinket."
"Fuck, Tseng, where's your head?" Zack remonstrated, "This is my girl we're talking about. I can't go on a trip and not bring her back a souvenir. No wonder you don't have anyone."
"I wouldn't mind hunting around," Tifa interrupted any brewing argument. Her voice was cool and faintly mocking. "Maybe we could find a place with a roof and a fireplace to camp in tonight." With that practical comment the matter was settled. The ruins would be explored and any useful items scavenged. Tomorrow they would continue their journey fully rested.
With a destination and a purpose in mind, they walked faster and their spirits were raised. It didn't take long to cross the sere landscape. They stopped at the top of a wide terrace that separated the wilds from the city and encircled much of the ancient town. It had a retaining wall made with natural stones. They could see that it had been carved and fitted to form a once smooth surface nearly two metres high. The evenness of the curve indicated a level of technical ability and practicality never mentioned when talking about the Ancients. Usually, it was all about their mysticism and prophecies, not about housing and agriculture. Now, the wall was crumbling. Some sections had collapsed and spilled their stones, like a waterfall, toward the town. Clumps of the fibrous grass grew in the cracks.
The path they'd taken had widened as they drew nearer, turning into a road. Here it dropped through the terrace in what would have been a gradual slope back when it was new. Now, broken stones rose and dipped unevenly. Coarse moss and tough vines grew in the cracks making it treacherous footing for everyone. They stood at the top of the incline and looked out over most of the ruined city. The road flowed through the centre of town from east to west in an almost perfect, straight line. It disappeared on the far side into a dense patch of forest, only dimly glowing.
They could see that another street, almost as broad, crossed it in a glaring 'Ψ' pattern. That road ran up a curving cliff with some kind of structure carved into it. Tseng thought it could be a temple or government hall since it loomed so distinctly over the rest of the town. The Turk suggested they head up the road immediately, arguing that if the Ancient's had knowledge of how to contain or destroy the Jenova virus, then it would likely be in such an important building. However, after looking at the sun's position, the rest of them vetoed the idea. Aside from finding a spot to spend the night, there was more than enough to scrounge through in the town's remains. They'd be climbing out of the valley tomorrow anyway, and the path to the temple was as likely a direction as any of the others.
"I don't know about you, but I'm looking forward to this," Zack, standing with his hands on his hips, bounced a little in excitement. Tifa, standing with her hands clasped behind her, echoed the sentiment and did her own version of Zack's bouncing. Tseng seemed eager and even Vincent's eyes sparked with curiosity.
Only Sephiroth looked at the old buildings and reflected nothing. His expression was so unmoving it was like a porcelain mask, beautiful and cold. It was the face Cloud had seen on countless magazine covers and news reports: ShinRa's perfect weapon; a heartless, soulless killing machine. It made him shiver.
"Teams of no less than two people, I think," Tseng suggested. Everyone nodded.
"I don't want to tramp over broken stones—too much like walking in the Nibel Mountains," Cloud said. Tifa grinned. "Besides someone should stay here as sentry in case, you know, something tries sneaking up on us."
"Do we really need a central command post," Zack teased.
"It makes sense to have a reserve," Sephiroth said "but since we've agreed to stay in teams, I will remain behind with Corporal Strife." His face and voice didn't change, but Cloud had the feeling that the General was relieved to have an excuse to stay behind. "Leave the packs with us and just use your field bags." Since the packs were heavy and bulky this suggestion met with unanimous approval. There was no discussion about who would be in what team, the four explorers just naturally split into two groups. Tifa and Vincent took the buildings to the left, and Tseng and Zack headed over to the ones on the right.
Cloud looked up at his General, still looking cold and aloof. A soft breeze made his long hair writhe around him as if mimicking a lover's caress. Cloud had memories of that hair. He blushed and shifted his weight as he became partially erect. He sighed internally. It was like he'd regressed several years to the height of puberty's hormonal overload, erections every time he so much as breathed.
Since Sephiroth looked like he would stand in the middle of the road until the sky fell and the sun darkened, the Corporal grabbed most of the packs and moved them off the road to an intact portion of the wall. He shrugged out of his own pack and added it to the pile. Then he sat down, dangled his feet over the side, and looked out over the ancient city.
The closer buildings were constructed in squares, not unlike those in Nibelheim had been. Farther away on the other side of the north-south road, the buildings were rounded and kind of pinkish. They also appeared, from a distance, to be in better shape than the nearer buildings and Cloud couldn't help but wonder if the difference was significant. He was sure he remembered reading a book or something about the effects of major crises on all aspects of a culture, from clothing to child-rearing, eating and houses. During and just after a catastrophe, all of it would be fluid and vulnerable to exploitation. Maybe the pink swirly buildings were older and better built, and the ugly square structures were hastily erected in the aftermath of disaster, and that's why they were crumbling ruins.
Before and after Jenova?
Perhaps. As Sephiroth said last night 'It's a workable theory'.
As expected, the General followed him to his perch. He dropped the packs he'd carried and stood beside Cloud, looking down at him. Cloud said nothing, just waited. "I'm surprised you aren't exploring with the others."
Cloud waited, unsure of what to say. He was just as glad not to be exploring the city. His feet hurt which, as an enhanced soldier, he was never going to admit even if it had been over three years since he'd done any serious rough-country marching, and he also wouldn't say the city completely creeped him out; he kept expecting spectres or zombies to appear and challenge them all. He couldn't say it because that would make him appear weak in front of the General. He could say that searching through the ruins for booty made him think of shopping, but with lots of dust, no selection and less convenience... and he's always hated shopping.
He could also mention that he was worried about Sephiroth, and about himself, and this would be the perfect time to either talk or think. He could poke at potentially painful emotional wounds… He shuddered, and settled for a simpler, easier, explanation.
"First thing a trooper learns is to never volunteer for anything that requires work. That," he pointed to where Vincent and Tifa were scrambling over a pile of fallen stones, "is work."
Sephiroth snorted quietly, knowing the answer was a cover, but willing to accept it for the small truth it carried. He wrapped his coat around him and sat beside his lover on the wall. He had to shift around for a while, settling Masamune and moving his hair to the side so he wasn't sitting on it. Cloud couldn't resist a smile. The General's hair was so impractical. It was the one bit of whimsy in an otherwise controlled existence.
He also sat close enough that Cloud could feel his body heat, even through the thick leather coat. The scent of him swirled in the air between him before being carried away. The sun was warm. There were birds singing from somewhere; their voices cut through the odd stillness coating the town as if to warn the ghosts of invaders. There were occasional flashes of colour as the other four scrambled over collapsed walls and into exposed upper levels. Small plumes of disturbed dust puffed into the air only to be dragged off by the breeze. It was quiet, peaceful, safe—and a lie.
Shit, Cloud thought. He had to bring it up or it would be like running away. He hated this emotional stuff.
"Zack's worried about you," he said without looking at the tall warrior. "He says something's been wrong since the mission briefing."
"He does," Sephiroth's voice gave nothing away.
"Hmm," Cloud confirmed. Even as he said it he knew he was being a coward. He was letting Zack take responsibility for the worry and distancing himself from the General's response. 'Zack wasn't the only one with concerns, Strife,' he told himself, 'be a man and own up to it.'
He swallowed and then turned to face the General, his lover. "I think so too. What's wrong, Sir?"
"I could ask you the same question." It was a poor parry and Cloud ignored it. He continued to look at his General, waiting for an answer. "Nothing's wrong with me, Cloud," Sephiroth finally responded, "Now what's wrong with you?"
The blond sighed. "My 'nothing' is probably a lot like your 'nothing'."
Sephiroth raised one sculpted brow in appreciation; a small half-smile bent his narrow, sensuous lips. Green eyes locked onto blue. The moment stretched. Worries fell away. Breath quickened. They leaned…
The moment was shattered by a shout and a crash. They turned in time to see Zack jumping out of a cloud of dust with Tseng securely in his arms. The First landed them on a nearly-intact building next to the one that had just collapsed. The SOLDIER's whoop of excitement could be clearly heard and soon Vincent and Tifa emerged onto a roof to take a look.
The two on the retaining wall resumed their innocuous 'eyes front' positions. They carefully watched as Zack jumped down to street level with Tseng still being carried. They could hear the Turk's protests about the 'indignities' and being 'perfectly capable' of getting down on his own. They could see the SOLDIER grin unrepentantly as Tseng straightened his suit and ran a hand over his tidy hair.
When Zack waved at them, they waved back.
"Tonight, I don't care if there are fireflies, meteor showers or Odin himself," the General growled, "The only wonder of nature I want to see spread out in front of me is you... naked."
Cloud swallowed as his heart bumped into overdrive. "Yes, Sir," the Corporal agreed.
It was just as well they didn't try to duck out for some private time. Soon after the building's collapse the teams began ferrying loot back to the 'command base'. Potions, elixirs, jewellery, bits of armour and weapons, and even cloth, were brought back to be examined and discussed. Most of the goods were of average interest, but they found a materia that Sephiroth tentatively identified as Comet. He couldn't be sure because there had only been two examples of Comet materia found and nobody had ever managed to master them. One user had apparently killed himself when the rocks fell on him rather than on the target area. It was powerful, but also unstable and unpredictable. When the globe flared as Zack approached, the decision to assign it to him was easy and unanimous.
Of course, then they'd had to spend some time redistributing all the materia so that no one had too much. Materia was great, everyone agreed on that, but every orb you wore, every spell you cast, would pull something from you: energy, focus, health; each one required a small sacrifice. Wear too many, and you'd be too weak to survive in the field. ShinRa had had people working on ways around the carry-limit but, as far as they knew, no solution had been found.
Zack, having to choose which one of his equipped materia to hand over to Vincent, who was the only one not up to his limit, decided to juggle the three that he could most easily give up. Sephiroth pulled them out of the air and gave the first one, a Haste, to the gunman.
Once they'd finished that up it was getting too dark to continue the exploration. Tifa had wanted to spend the night in the weird curly houses but Vincent, who'd taken off in the middle of their examination of the loot, reported that the buildings had no heating system that he could identify. Considering Tifa and Tseng's vulnerability, they decided to use one of the more intact square houses instead. They'd found one that had a most of its roof, and a wood stove they could cook on and use to heat the room. It even had mattresses, lumpy and heavy, but still good insulation from the cold floor. The only thing lacking was running water. For that they'd have to go to the community wells and haul it in.
It didn't take long for Tifa and Tseng to start shivering once they'd stopped scrambling over the ruins. Sephiroth had them stay in the room while the others scrounged firewood and brought in the water. Cloud was volunteered to sit between them under blankets, lending them his body heat.
At first, the Corporal didn't mind. He vaguely hoped to chat quietly about what had been happening back in the world while he'd been gone. He tried to avoid topics that might be sensitive but ShinRa had been so woven into the everyday lives of practically everyone and everything that sensitivity proved to be impossible. In the end, he was glad it didn't take the others long to build up the fire and gather the water. They could join in the conversation and keep it flowing, and he could shut up and relax.
Once the fire was going—thanks to a carefully thrown Firaga—they heated up their MRE's to a temperature above lukewarm. It didn't help with the flavour but both Tseng and Tifa could feel their core temperatures rising to safer levels as they ate the heated goo. They moved from under the blanket and found more comfortable places to sit while they digested.
To everyone's amazement, except perhaps Vincent who didn't care, Tseng produced a small tin of rich black tea from the southern islands. Sephiroth actually perked up when he saw the tin. Again, he helped heat the water to the proper brewing temperature and sat, sipping the tea, with the look of a satisfied cat, half sleepy, completely content.
Cloud couldn't look at him.
The General had looked like that after his orgasm the day before, and all the Corporal could think of was how he wanted to see that expression on Sephiroth's face again for the exact same reason. He kept the blanket on his lap, to cover up his problem, but he was sure Zack knew. Vincent might know. He was pretty sure Sephiroth knew—and was enjoying Cloud's discomfort. He was supposed to sleep between Tifa and Tseng and there was no way he could do that in his current condition. And it didn't look like they'd be able to sneak off somewhere private without everyone guessing what they were up to.
Shit.
He'd have to take care of it himself.
As soon as it was dark enough to provide a curtain of privacy, the Corporal gave a broad stretch and a wide yawn. He scratched his chest. "I'm going to go get ready for bed."
"Are we still teaming up for this?" Tifa asked dubiously, "No offense guys, but I don't want—or need—any of you guarding my back while I empty my bladder."
"I'd say it's safe," Zack backed her up. "We just spent all afternoon scrambling all over this place and encountered nothing." Everyone nodded their heads in agreement.
As far as Cloud was concerned, it was perfect. He grabbed his sword, making sure to hold it in front of him until he was out of the room. Once out of the building he let out a relieved breath, harnessed his sword properly and reached down to adjust his pants before heading out at a brisk walk to find a halfway decent place to take of his problem.
It was just as well he didn't look back or he would've seen Sephiroth's smile deepen in satisfaction.
"The night may hold dangers that the day did not," the Silver General calmly said, "Therefore, it may not be wise to wander around alone. I will find Corporal Strife and make sure he comes back safely. Commander, make sure everyone stays here until we've secured the area."
Zack's eyebrows weren't the only ones that lifted at the transparent excuse.
"I can wait," Tifa offered with a sly smile, "but watch out for snakes. They like to hide in dark places."
Tseng coughed on his tea. Zack snorted. Light colour graced Sephiroth's cheekbones.
*I bet she's wonderful at catching snakes, stroking them and making them feel at home in her dark places,* Chaos purred. Vincent clamped down on the involuntary response its word caused. He crossed his arms firmly over his body, holding himself in place and merely shook his head when Tifa brightly asked, "More tea?"
It was easy for the genetically-modified warrior to track his lover through the dark streets. The scent of him, of his arousal, lingered in the air. As he had suspected, the Corporal was travelling much farther than required to just urinate. No, the blond was heading for a more private area, one out of earshot of the others.
It was perfect. At least it soon would be.
Sephiroth brought out his wings and raced toward his lover. Sensing the danger, Cloud turned but it was too late. He was scooped up and carried off, flying over the rooftops. He started to protest only to be shushed, "Do you want to be dropped?"
Cloud stilled in his arms. His breathing was rapid but he was calm. "Where are you taking me, Sir?" he asked.
"I told you earlier, Cloud. I want to see you spread-eagled before me. I think a bed would be best and, according to what the others said, the shell houses still have theirs." He bent his head and put his lips right next to Cloud's ear, "They won't be able to hear you scream, Cloud, and I intend to make you scream. For me."
The warm breath dripped over his ear, the deep voice echoed in his body. Cloud shivered. He decided not to wait until they had a bed. He turned his lips to the long column of Sephiroth's throat, so smooth, so strong... so tasty. He nibbled at it, licking it and nipping at it, humming in approval at the flavour.
Sephiroth's arms tightened. "You do like to play dangerously," he purred in approval. Cloud opened his mouth and bit down on the sensitive nerve bundle at the joining of neck and shoulder. In response, Sephiroth pumped his wings faster.
If the buildings had had windows they were gone now, so the General tucked his wings close to his body and flew right in. He spun them around, flaring his wings, and brought them to an abrupt halt, but he didn't want to stop, so he backed the Corporal up against the nearest wall in a rush and dragged that blond head away from his neck. Cloud's eyes were glowing with excitement and his breathing was quick and harsh. The General pushed a leg up against his lover's groin and could feel the blond's arousal, thick and hard, against his thigh. Sephiroth thrust his hips forward, pressing his erection against Cloud's warm flesh.
Except it wasn't flesh. It was cloth and leather, and straps and armour, and too much!
He pulled back. "Strip," he ordered and began undoing buckles.
"Yes, Sir," Cloud acknowledged. His hands worked almost as fast as the General's.
Sephiroth watched the blond disrobe even as he pulled his own clothes off. The sword harness and armour fell within seconds. The top was gone only moments later. Cloud undid his pants and pulled them down even as Sephiroth was tugging off his gloves. For this, he wanted bare hands: bare hands on naked flesh.
The Corporal swore as his pants got trapped around the heavy combat boots. Sephiroth heard the laces tear and the 'thud' as the boots were pulled off and unceremoniously dropped. Then Cloud was naked, pale and shining in the dim light. His erection rose stiff and proud from the centre of his body.
So slender, so strong... and his.
Sephiroth couldn't be bothered removing his boots. It was enough that he had his pants open and lowered. "I can't wait," he growled. The glow from his eyes should've lit the room like a flame.
"I don't want you to," Cloud answered, chest heaving.
Sephiroth opened his arms and Cloud jumped up and grabbed on; arms wrapped around broad shoulders, legs gripping narrow hips. Sephiroth's long erection nestled in the crack of his ass so Cloud rubbed himself against it, silently begging. The General spit on his fingers and reached around and down, finding Cloud's entrance and hastily stretching it.
There was no finesse, no technique, just desperate need and increasing urgency.
"Now, now, now," Cloud begged even as he feasted on whatever flesh he could draw into his mouth or reach with his tongue. He chewed on a sensitive ear only half buried in that long silver hair. "Do it. I want it. Do it," he whispered hungrily.
Sephiroth didn't respond in words, he couldn't. With one arm he lifted the blond higher. With the other he positioned himself at the younger man's tight entrance. He wanted to push in with one long stroke but even his lust-hazed mind knew it was impossible, so he used short, rough jerks to dig himself in. Each thrust stretched Cloud's unprepared flesh and the blond tipped his head back, panting harshly, moaning softly, and always, always, chanting 'yes, yes, yes'.
Finally he was in, all of his considerable length surrounded by his lover's heat. He wanted to pound, thrusting as fast and as hard as he could, racing through the sensations until he reached his peak. He wanted to stay still, penetrating and enveloped by his lover's body until Cloud writhed in helpless agony. Instead, caught between opposing impulses, he twisted and rubbed, and moved his hips in a sinuous wave, massaging the blond's fat erection between their bellies, almost hard enough to make him erupt.
Almost...
The younger man begged, he pleaded. He tried to move but strong arms held him helpless. One strong hand pressed on the light coating of down between the blond's shoulder blades. Not moving it, just holding firmly, making his lover know who was in control. Hot eyes watched in avid pleasure as Cloud lost himself in the torturous pleasure.
"Scream for me, Cloud," the General ordered, but the blond couldn't. He didn't have the breath.
All he had was the desire, the need for more, for harder and faster. He tried to explain to the General—his lover, his torturer. He brought his lips to Sephiroth's and devoured them. Strong hands held that slim jaw as Cloud urged Sephiroth to open up, let him in, and when he did, Cloud tried to swallow him down. He sucked the General's tongue into his own mouth and made love to it like he was sucking on his cock.
It wasn't dainty. It wasn't romantic. It was wet and messy, filled with greed and desperation. And it broke the General's control.
With a muted roar Sephiroth adjusted his grip on his lover, using his arms to lift the smaller man up and then drive him down on his hard shaft. Faster, harder, just like he'd demanded, until the sound of flesh on flesh blurred. Or maybe it was lost behind the buzzing in his ears, the pulse in his body.
Cloud started a high keening sound. It was pain. It was pleasure. Sensation. It made his skin come alive. It made his body weak even as he bruised broad shoulders so that he wouldn't fly away. But he could feel it starting. He wasn't just his physical shell anymore. It wasn't just him. Sephiroth's breath was in his mouth; his sweat was in his skin. Their scents were all around. Their voices echoed off the curved walls.
"Scream for me, Cloud," the General ordered and eased a slim hand between them. He wrapped his fingers around the Corporal's fat, weeping erection and pumped.
Cloud tightened... and screamed.
Whatever rhythm he'd had was gone. He jerked and twisted helplessly in the General's grip, out of control and unaware of it, but he didn't completely surrender. As he spasmed and emptied himself, his body clenched and pulled on the thick length inside him. Squeezing it and moving on it, demanding that his lover follow him into the abyss.
"My beautiful Cloud," Sephiroth whispered before he too, lost the power of speech. His legs trembled from the force of his climax and he gave up trying to stand. He collapsed onto his knees, Cloud cradled protectively in his arms. He was careful not to separate their bodies. He wanted, needed, to fill his lover up with his essence, to mark him in this small way.
Cloud had his arms wrapped securely around Sephiroth. He let his head rest on one strong shoulder as his body recovered from the overwhelming assault. Harsh breathing was interrupted by broken moans of completion. He dragged in breath; feeling wrung out and spun dry. He could smell the General, in his thick, silver hair. Without thinking, without even being aware of it, he took a handful of those long strands and swung them around until he was covered by them. "My Gen'ral," he murmured and snuggled closer in weary contentment.
"Hello, Raincloud," Sephiroth whispered in recognition. He wondered if he should be disturbed by the reminder of the smallest Cloud appearing here, in this situation, but in the next thought decided he didn't care. At least they were here, able to share this.
He stroked a trembling hand down Cloud's back, soothing him—soothing them both. He used long strokes, up and down, and with each pass he could feel the tidy surgical scars and the rougher entry wound scars that had come first. That moment from three years ago came back to him. Cloud, holding their hands as they approached Jenova, lost in his trance as his very presence kept them safe from her power. The shot that tore through him, ripping him open. Instinct made the teen let go of their hands so he could clutch at the gaping wound in his belly. Then he had looked up at Sephiroth, horrified at what he had done. He'd been reaching out a blood covered hand, still trying to protect his General, when another bullet had hit him and he'd dropped first to his knees and then flat on his stomach.
He hadn't put out his hands to break his fall; he hadn't even tried.
Sephiroth had thought he was dead.
There'd been so much blood and Cloud had been so still, and Jenova had been yelling at him, bludgeoning his mind with her demands for freedom, for revenge, for obedience, for love. Hot spikes of alien emotion driving through his mind and down his spine into the very core of his being. It had been so very hard to remember that he wasn't her son. Then Zack had pushed him over the edge into the mako stream below—saving him by sacrificing himself.
He'd always known that Commander Fair would be alive. When he'd emerged from the mako in Mideel, he'd known and had vowed to find the SOLDIER and rescue him. When he'd negotiated with ShinRa to take over their army, he'd known and had made it a condition of the contract that he be allowed to look for his SiC. Once he'd signed the contract, he'd received an anonymous message he hadn't bothered to trace back to the Turks. It had been a report on Zack's current status and location... and Cloud's as well.
Both of them, alive.
Three years ago they'd sacrificed everything to keep him safe. Could he do less?
"Cloud," he whispered, "we need to go back."
"Hmm," the young man answered. Perfectly happy to stay just where he was.
"Cloud, you can't go to sleep here."
"Can too," he mumbled.
Sephiroth gave the blond a shake, "Well then, you shouldn't." Reluctantly he lifted his lover off his lap, sliding out of the younger man's tight body and releasing a gush of fluids. He made his voice stern, "Attention, Corporal Strife!"
Cloud jumped up and stood to attention. "Yes, Sir," he snapped back. Then he blinked, surprised to find himself standing.
Sephiroth smiled; properly trained soldiers never stopped responding to the voice of command. "Let's find something to clean ourselves with," he suggested and Cloud looked around with eyes still hazy with sex but clearing fast.
It didn't take long. There were still cloths in what they took to be the bathroom. Cloud was bleeding slightly and had to reassure the General, repeatedly, that he wasn't seriously hurt, that he didn't need to cast Cure on himself, and that he was perfectly capable of walking on his own. He ached, but that was from being well-used rather than damaged, and he didn't mind the slight pain. It was a reminder that the General, once known for his icy, implacable control, had lost it with him; had pounded into him with all the finesse of a sailor hitting land for the first time in six months. It also meant that Sephiroth didn't think of him as fragile, or damaged, or less. So, no, he didn't mind the ache at all.
They tidied themselves up, dressed themselves and left through the front door rather than through the window. Once outside the looked at each other and, without a word being spoken, brought out their wings and decided to fly. It was a playful trip, with the General taking time to instruct Cloud on controlling his flight. They dipped and swooshed, and ducked and bobbed so it took them only twice as long to return to their camp as it had taken them to reach their hideaway.
It was over too soon.
A quick moment to tuck their wings away, a not-so-quick kiss, and they entered the room that had been turned into their campsite. Vincent was draped on the half-destroyed wall separating the kitchen from what had probably been the front room. He turned his head as they entered then went back to his previous trance state.
It was obvious that the others hadn'tstayed in the building as the General had ordered, but then, he hadn't really expected to be obeyed. They were already in a group on the mattress. Zack was lying between Tifa and Tseng. Tifa seemed to be asleep already. Tseng's eyes slitted open, checked them out, then fell closed again. Zack waved a lazy hand.
With a regretful sigh, Cloud removed his heavy gear and settled in beside Tifa. He watched, with mournful eyes although he would deny it, as Sephiroth tucked up behind the Turk. He wanted to sleep beside his lover. The General raised his head and caught Cloud's gaze with his own. There was a world of longing in that gaze, a yearning ache that called to him.
As badly as he wanted to sleep next to the General, Cloud realized that it was nothing compared to how much Sephiroth wanted to sleep next to him.
It was going to be a long night.
Flowers, thousands of them, nothing but flowers as far as the eye could see.
He'd been here before.
"You're back," the soft voice was surprised but welcoming.
Cloud turned to face her. Green eyes, brown hair, pink ribbon, bright smile. "You're Zack's girl, Aeris, I mean Aerith," he hastily corrected himself, "I'm sorry, I can never remember which."
"Don't worry about it. I answer to either.
"Aerith!" They both knew that voice, "My number one girl," Zack bounded up to them, "and Cloud, my bestest friend." The SOLDIER's smile rivalled the sun for brightness. In fact, if it had been any wider, Cloud would've needed sunglasses.
"Man, I haven't been here in forever." He beamed down at his flower girl. "I missed you," he said before scooping her up and twirled her around. Cloud hastily backed up, out of the way of swinging limbs. When they started kissing, he turned around to give them some privacy. He wandered away in an attempt not to hear the soft, moist sounds, the whispered intimacies, but distance made no difference. It was as clear from ten paces away as from one.
He coughed, "I hate to interrupt but, why are we here? There has to be a reason, right?"
"Maybe it's because we're in the Cetran capital," Zack suggested.
Aerith-or-Aeris gasped, "You're there already?"
"Yeah," the SOLDIER confirmed enthusiastically, "and I found you the prettiest bracelet–"
"You're very close, you know," she interrupted him to state cryptically.
It was Cloud who asked, "Close to what?"
Instead of answering his question, she said, "It's nearly time."
"Time for what?" Cloud's voice rose.
She didn't answer that question either. "You have to go find him. Just remember what I told you about sacrifices." She was so serious that all Cloud could do was nod. She gave a sharp nod in return. "Good. Now, wake up," she instructed as she waved them away and he was blown out through the white nothingness, just like he had been before.
He awoke on the hard bed with a jerk. His heart was racing. He could still smell the flowers.
"Aw, shit," he heard Zack mutter, "I wasn't ready to leave yet."
He sat up and looked to the other end of the bed. Sephiroth was gone.
AN: The book Cloud kinda-sorta remembers reading is based on 'The Shock Doctrine' by Naomi Kline—a very interesting book that I still haven't finished reading because it's disturbing and rather scary.