Genesis dropped his pack just inside the door of the hotel room and tried to wrestle his shoes from his frozen feet. His fingers felt stiff and he fumbled with the laces until frustration led him to unclip the knife strapped to his thigh and slit them right up the front. He kicked the boots off, then stripped off his wet socks to bury his toes into the plush carpet with a relieved sigh. The rest of his uniform, armor and all, found their own places flung at random around the entryway. Angeal would complain and make him clean it up, but only after he was properly warm.
Snow looked quite charming in photographs and trite happily ever after holiday films, but the reality did not measure up to the cozy depictions on television. They didn't have any such thing in Banora, although his parents had always insisted upon the most realistic of fake Holy Light trees money could buy, along with elegant baubles and twinkling electric lights. He couldn't believe he'd once longed for a snowy solstice.
They weren't even snowed in anywhere interesting, for goddess' sake. It wasn't as though Genesis actually wanted to try his hand at skiing or ice skating but he found himself a little miffed that it wasn't even an option. Angeal would like that, though, he was sure of it.
He felt his lips curl in distaste as he took in the state of the suite he would share with Angeal, lifting his nose in both disdain and to take in the scent of the place - cleaning products from every surface, herbal scented laundry soap, and the sort of sterilizer all hotels used to cleanse the space of other people's pheromones. He was perfectly happy not to have his enhanced senses assailed by the previous occupants' body odor. Who knew what people got up to here? Well, he knew , he just didn't want anyone else's indiscretions clinging to him.
The bedroom and the little entertainment space was… thematically rustic. Wooden panels covered the walls, real wood too and not veneer he was actually pleased to discover, realistic faux fur rugs and blankets decorated the floor and couch. The bed was spacious enough for half a pack to share generously, not just himself and Angeal. He wondered if the massive antlers over the gas fireplace's mantle were real.
He stripped out of the last of his clothing and found the bathing room much more to his liking. The dark slate floor had actual stairs leading down into a palatial tub full of interesting looking jets and a basket full of soaps and lotions.
Angeal found him toying with the controls, the tub beginning to fill with gloriously steaming hot water, with Genesis wrapped in one of the plush green robes provided for their benefit.
"I was wrong," Genesis tossed a green bath bomb into the water, watching it begin to spin and disintegrate into foam with a pleasant herbal scent wafting into the air, "I hope we're snowed in for a week, maybe two."
Angeal shrugged, peeling off his armor and clothing in much more dignified fashion than Genesis had managed, "You might be getting your wish. The forecast is looking grim for any chance of a helicopter getting up this way anytime soon."
Genesis left the comfortable robe in a heap on the tile and slipped into the water with a soft groan, enjoying the faint smell of mint from the spinning sphere that began to dye the water a light green. It looked almost like the hot spring pools in Mideel, without the uncomfortable sting of Mako that made the place a genuine healing retreat and not merely a relaxing one.
Angeal paused as he stood in the doorway, fatigue pants still in place but with his belt dangling loose, "I'm going to go see if I can get Seph in, he has to be freezing. Hot water should help more than just getting dry."
Genesis shrugged. While Angeal was right, and Sephiroth had been the one to fall through the ice into a hip deep pool of nearly frozen water, Genesis had tried to lure their friend into the comfort of a grooming session enough times to predict what the answer would be: "I doubt it, but feel free to ask."
Sephiroth genuinely had to be freezing, water had spilled into the high tops of his boots and he'd become less graceful the longer they had to trek from their mission post to the nearest point of civilization they could find. With a snow storm whipping up they'd almost dragged him into a cave to try and start a fire, but had managed to get to Windvale - a much less popular resort than Icicle Inn but they'd have made do with a hovel if that was what it took to get thawed out.
It would be best to get him into a bath, but Sephiroth seemed to have a strong aversion to most things people tended to enjoy. There had been a frustrating stretch of time when they'd first met that Genesis had believed Sephiroth saw himself as too good to be touched, but now he knew that Sephiroth drew in on himself at any perceived outreach of physical affection - it seemed as though he was merely a very private person, but Angeal had made it a personal challenge to break through that.
Genesis would leave him to it - he was better with people.
Sephiroth's teeth were gritted together as he slumped into the room he'd been assigned by the front desk attendant. The key card was bent in half from pressing it too hard to the electronic lock with hands that refused to stop shaking once he'd left the presence of someone who might see and feel free to report such things. Who they might report to, or why, he couldn't be certain - but it seemed everything always got back to someone, whether to Shinra or some tabloid.
His breath left him in a rush once he had closed the door. He carefully engaged both locks, gently testing the strength of them out of habit - having a door, and a locked one, was still a novelty. With the room as secure as he could make it, Sephiroth began to struggle with his clothing. Beneath his gloves his fingertips were paler than usual and stiff from the cold that felt like it was biting at him. He fumbled with his coat and belts, dropping them in the entryway and sank to the floor to work his boots from his legs. Water spilled out of them in an icy wave that began to soak into the carpet and he bit back an unpleasant whining sound that refused to stay put in his chest. His feet were a mess and he rapidly hit them with three consecutive cures - the Materia he'd been assigned for the mission was new and untested and it was his assignment to strengthen them for the next user. He stripped off his bangles and tossed them aside as well - the metal was cold enough he had genuinely worried about finding frostbite beneath his sleeves.
He shivered naked in front of the door for a moment before stumbling up to his feet like a newly hatched chocobo. His steps were unsteady as he made his way further into the suite, automatically snatching a decorative blanket from the back of a plush chair and wrapping it around his shoulders - if only to feel a small bit less vulnerable.
There was far too much… space. The room was full of things but still somehow empty - and too quiet. He wasn't used to this much quiet. He plucked up the television's remote control in fingers that still shook, and flicked the power button. He lowered the volume of some afternoon talk show, wondering if this was what people meant by 'needing background noise'. There was always background noise, he'd thought? In his dormitory, in the barracks, in the lab, and in the field it was never silent.
With Angeal and Genesis it was admittedly quieter, but… there was sound, and movement, and breath in the confines of a tent or their shared dormitory, but it wasn't like any previous squad he'd been put in charge of. The one before them had been tense and frightened of him and they hadn't spoken outside of drills or necessary corrections to their form and behavior before they'd been moved out. Before them… it had been a long time since Rhadore, and those people had never been quiet even if it would save their lives. It hadn't…
Which was preferable? Deferent silence or the threat of camaraderie? He wasn't certain anymore. Angeal was steady and easily shifted between command and correction with a strange good humor that was nothing like any alpha Sephiroth had served with. Genesis was more tumultuous, questioning every order but not in a way that put Sephiroth's authority or experience in doubt - and the omega was almost frighteningly competent for someone only three years older than himself.
The thing he appreciated most about the pair was that neither seemed inclined to be intimidated by him. They kept trying to lure him into more socialization, but while reciprocation seemed the most correct answer to such things Sephiroth had no idea how to accept it. The things they took for granted as normal interactions eluded him, both men being far more tactile than anyone Sephiroth had ever interacted with.
A touch to a shoulder to get his attention rather than call his name. A close brush to step past rather than request that he move. An invitation to be close to them… each of which made him more and more tempted to accept. It was strange enough that they wanted to interact at all - even stranger that he realized they merely wanted to become his friends . He'd never had the luxury before.
Sephiroth sat down gingerly on the edge of the couch, grasping the edge of another blanket and draping it over his lap. He tucked the plush material beneath his toes and curled in on himself, covering as much of his body as possible. With no clothing to change into, he resigned himself to nudity until his own dried out.
The sound of the television drowned out the uncomfortable silence, but the chatter was nothing more than meaningless syllables as he slowly began to stop shivering. He knew he would warm more quickly if he took a shower, yet the idea of standing up for even that long was less than ideal - his legs ached from the cold and the long trek through a nearly white-out blizzard had sapped his reserves. He'd been carefully poised when they'd reached the small town that existed only to support the winter resort. It had been humiliating enough to be seen that way in front of his two man squad, he didn't need to be perceived as such by strangers.
His attention swung to a door in the far wall as someone rapped at it and he frowned to find no peephole and not a single lock to be found to separate his room from the next. Sephiroth rose and wrapped the blanket in his lap carefully around his hips, keeping the other draped over his shoulders. Keeping it there was a good excuse to not force himself to stand at attention, and he clutched the blankets closed as much as possible - it wasn't as though Angeal and Genesis hadn't seen him bare before, communal showers being the norm in the SOLDIER barracks, but he felt doubly exposed this way.
"Hey," Angeal stood on the other side of the door, stripped down to his undershirt and the warm flannel pants he'd been wearing beneath his uniform. Sephiroth had never bothered - the cold was usually only a superficial discomfort, and he wasn't assigned to wear them regardless.
Usually, of the three of them, Angeal was the most diplomatic - Genesis was too quick to judge and his verbal filter was barely existent even in front of superior officers. Sephiroth himself… knew that he was socially deficient, no matter what training he'd been given and after reading the books on proper behavior and etiquette, he rarely knew what to say. He knew he came off as cold and emotionless, but he simply had no idea how he should interact in any given situation.
Angeal didn't bother to beat around the bush or spare his feelings as he spoke up again, and Sephiroth realized he'd been meant to say something back to his greeting only after the other man opened the door wider and stepped aside.
"You look miserable, come on," Angeal beckoned, clearly planning to stand there as long as possible until Sephiroth gave in, "we've got a bath big enough for six and you're getting in it."
What would be the harm? He shifted the blanket closer around himself, still unable to completely warm up. A bath would be practical, he told himself, and if one was already available and he didn't need to stand as he would in a shower…
He'd forgotten to answer again but how did one accept something so personal and… he shook off the spiral of trying to figure out what would be appropriate. He nodded, hesitantly stepping into the other suite with a soft, "Alright."
Ahead of him, Angeal pulled his shirt over his head as he led the way to the bathroom, draping the fabric over the back of a wooden rocking chair that looked far more decorative than functional with an elaborately woven wicker back. Sephiroth stood in the doorway of the bathroom, feet still on the carpet of the main room rather than the slate floor. He watched as Angeal stripped the rest of the way, a strange feeling tugging at his stomach as he stepped down into the water.
An even stranger sensation fluttered in his chest as Angeal casually pressed a kiss to the top of Genesis's head, the other man sighing and sinking deeper into the pool of green-tinged water.
"I can go," Sephiroth said, realizing suddenly that he had been meant to refuse the offer to join them. Angeal had been being polite, this was a social construct that Sephiroth hadn't realized wasn't genuine, "I apologize, I didn't mean to intrude."
"Get in here," Genesis demanded, lunging up out of the water and stalking around the bathing pool to grab at Sephiroth's blanket cloak and yanking away the one around his waist, "you're making me feel cold again standing there like that."
Sephiroth tried to clutch the blanket tighter but his fingers still ached with cold and the plush cloth was easily stripped away, "You don't have to," he said, turning away from two matched expressions he couldn't interpret, perhaps they only needed reminded, "I'm not a part of your pack."
He went motionless as Genesis fingers lightly encircled his wrist, shoulders rising reflexively and the fine hairs at the back of his neck prickling in alarm. No one touched him like this. Ever. He didn't know what to do at the close contact, eyes wide as he turned back, and feeling even more confused as the omega began pulling him inexorably closer to the water - he did everything but drag Sephiroth into the bath, dropping in himself with a splash. Water surged up over the lip of the pool to lap over Sephiroth's cold feet.
Genesis' eyes were narrowed and he was leaning forward in a clear threat to grab at him again and force him into the water. Angeal at least was politely looking away from him, and Sephiroth tried to interpret it regardless - some things he never truly understood and his comprehension of body language was worse than his ability to recognize emotional expressions. Genesis was, ironic as the phrase was for a bibliophile, an open book.
"Why is it green?" he asked after a moment, wisps of steam curling up around him as he gazed into the deep pool with suspicion, "is it contaminated? There were no raw Mako springs located on the map of the area."
Genesis chuckled, "It's a bath bomb, it turns the water whatever color you like, there's a whole basket of them."
Sephiroth's lips shaped the word 'bomb?' questioningly, but he still stepped down into the water. He expected it to sting, to burn, a long association with the color causing him to grit his teeth and brace himself.
It did sting, a bit, but it was merely the heat prickling against his chilled skin. He hissed and immediately regretted the sound as both pairs of eyes turned to him, he locked down his expression, hiding the tiny pain he should never have voiced. Why was he so weak around these men?
It wasn't merely this moment, it was a series of them. He slept more easily with them in the room - trusted them entirely to keep watch when it was their shift in the field… and he'd been forced to trust them to get him here to safety when they could perhaps have left him.
He had told himself he wouldn't get attached. Ever again.
"Hey," Angeal spoke across from him and Sephiroth opened his eyes, realizing he'd closed them as his body became more acclimated to the heat and his skin began to stop prickling uncomfortably as he warmed.
Sephiroth found the two men closer than they had been and he couldn't resist the urge to step back. As if he had anywhere to go, he felt his hips hit the back of the tub and his knees impacted rather forcefully against the bench there. He dropped down onto it, a wave of water splashing up behind him to soak the tiles as Genesis' swift plunge had done.
"I'm…" he trailed off, wondering if he should apologize for his inattention. He wasn't certain, lifting his head to meet Angeal's eyes, "Yes?"
"Can we help you?" Angeal's voice was soft when he uttered the strange request, his body language entirely opaque - Genesis as well had moved closer, although he seemed to be deliberately demonstrating every movement as he did so.
Uncertain whether he should attempt to leave, he asked, "Why? Grooming practices are a pack activity and I am not a member of your pack. I have always bathed myself, I do need assistance."
"Because we want to," Genesis answered, waving off the question with a hand in the space between them, then reached out with his palm up, "give me your hand, please."
That was a word Genesis usually reserved for sarcasm or some form of extortion, and Sephiroth was hesitant as he held his hand out. He nearly flinched as Genesis took it, the other man still moving slower and more methodical than usual. Easy and gentle were not words he would have associated with the energetic omega, but the soapy cloth he rubbed over Sephiroth's hand was both of those things.
The scent of the soap was soothing, some herbal concoction that was surprisingly pleasant. Sephiroth was used to using what was provided to him, the soap and shampoo unscented and harsh on his skin - particularly useful when stripping the remnants of Mako from his body after a treatment or test.
For a long moment the feeling of cloth running over his skin was all he could feel - the way Genesis grasped his wrist and pulled him a little closer making him shiver. He didn't know what to do with his hand once Genesis had finished and picked up the other, curling it against his chest. It felt strange, warm and tingling in a way that had nothing to do with warming his chilled body.
He wasn't certain what he was doing when Genesis gently lowered his other hand into the water to rinse off the soap. He realized that the tingling sensation was… pleasant. He wasn't used to being touched in anything but perfunctory ways to move him where he was required to be or with instruments rather than hands.
Genesis had a soft frown on his face as he reached out and took Sephiroth's hand again, turning it over palm up and bringing it to his face. Sephiroth resisted the urge to pull it away as the omega's nostrils flared against the skin on the inside of his wrist. The place where a scent gland should produce hormones, he realized. There was one there, as it should be biologically, but it was useless. He couldn't impart his scent onto anything, or anyone, if his body simply didn't emit the proper pheromones. Likewise the scents of others and the information one could gather from them was lost on him entirely.
Sephiroth knew there was something wrong with him.
Hojo insisted that these differences made him 'perfect' and 'above such base animal instincts and urges' that having a secondary gender bestowed upon the 'masses'. He had never presented. He had never once released pheromones that gave away his emotions. He was uncertain about others', unable to parse through a scent profile to determine what other people felt - this was a defect that the professor said was a regrettable side effect to what set him apart from 'common animals'.
The strange look on Genesis' face somehow intensified and he used the hold on Sephiroth's hand to maneuver his body the way he wanted. He felt his muscles stiffen in alarm as the omega settled behind him, his body a line of heat even beyond the steaming water that lapped against him as Genesis moved through it.
"Duck down in the water a bit," the omega touched Sephiroth's shoulder, his thumb rubbing against the useless gland just where his neck curved, nudging him from the seat until he sank deeper into the tub. He wasn't certain why he didn't jerk away and get out of the water. He'd never done this with others who had attempted to lure him into grooming activities - he was not a part of a pack, and thus it wasn't… would never… be required of anyone to do so. He did not want to put anyone in a position where they believed he needed this.
He didn't know why he obeyed.
He looked up to find Angeal close, too close, and the tension in his body should have made him push away. Instead he went motionless. He could see Angeal's eyes locked just over his shoulder at Genesis, his head tilting to one side, the same unfamiliar and confusing expression on his face as he reached out and casually touched Sephiroth's face.
A shiver ran through him as Angeal cupped his chin and leaned close, pressing his face into Sephiroth's throat as though it was a completely normal thing for someone to do to their squad mate. He could feel Genesis shivering behind him too, but it didn't stop. The vibration strengthened and Sephiroth found himself going limp between them. Angeal caught him , held him up out of the water before he could slip all the way down into the green foam.
Academically he understood, suddenly, what Genesis was doing. But the action did not explain what was wrong with Sephiroth - Genesis was purring, a sound that omegas made when content or to soothe members of their pack or their pups. He had watched a documentary about the activity once, and seen videos of the relaxing effect it had on both the omega generating the combination of sound and physical vibration, but Hojo had dismissed it as psychosomatic when he had brought it up.
Sephiroth was distinctly not in Genesis and Angeal's tiny pack of two, and thus this physiological action should not have an effect upon him. He could only remember anything like this happening once before, on Rhadore, when he had been shot.
Lucia had fussed over him oddly, the alpha female growling faintly in her throat as she forced him to take off his shirt to be certain the bullet had passed through and wasn't lodged in his arm. She'd wiped the blood away with a wet wipe and disinfected it, and the look on her face had been just as incomprehensible as Angeal's.
Glenn had insisted on supporting him from behind, just like Genesis was doing now, and he'd thought the omega had simply been vibrating with energy - he had read that phrase in a fictional book he had read for recreation when it was permitted and thus it made sense. Glenn was volatile and hyperactive by nature. But, perhaps, there had been something else to it. Sephiroth had relaxed in a fashion that was entirely improper for the situation and location.
He pushed the memory aside, his breath coming in quick gasps of alarm as he felt his body relaxing against his will - he tried to push himself away from them, or he wanted to try, but his eyes closed instead and his head fell back onto Genesis' shoulder.
Genesis began to somehow purr louder, harder, the vibration of it so strong he thought it would make ripples in the water. It made Sephiroth weak. It made him pliant as Angeal began to run his fingers through his hair and wipe his face with the soapy cloth.
Sephiroth wasn't supposed to be susceptible to this. It wasn't supposed to be real - Sephiroth wasn't entirely real, he wasn't human, he did not have 'instincts' to fall back on. He'd thought so, anyway.
He knew Hojo would be furious. A part of him didn't care. Perhaps they wouldn't tell anyone? They hadn't revealed any of his habits or reported any of the minor transgressions they had witnessed to the science department or the Turks as his previous squad had.
Would it be safe to be weak?
With them?
Genesis and Angeal both made strange noises, the omega's hand still rubbing at the gland on one side of his throat and Angeal carefully washing his face. The growl that slipped from Angeal's chest and the incessant purring from behind him made letting go easier. He let out a shuddering breath and stopped fighting it.
"Sephiroth," Genesis' voice was unaccountably quiet as he cradled the man against his chest, feeling the body he held suddenly go entirely lax, "Seph, darling, are you with us?"
Angeal shook his head and mouthed, 'What the hell?' at Genesis, watching Sephiroth's pale eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. His lover gave a helpless shrug.
"I don't think he can really hear us," Genesis said, still speaking softly but not in a conspiratorial whisper, "I don't think subterfuge is all that important just now - and I don't think he'd appreciate it if he could hear it."
Angeal leaned close again, carefully maneuvering around Sephiroth and pressing his nose to the scent gland that was barely even visible against his pale skin.
He lifted Seph's hand again, nudging Genesis to draw his attention, "He's not wearing any gland patches. I thought he just… always wore them." Chemical hormone blockers could only do so much, but he knew you could double up and cover your scent glands to make yourself damn near unreadable. A good thing in the field, tracking people or monsters, but universally seen to be unhealthy both physically and psychologically.
"It doesn't make sense," Angeal said, "nothing should make him completely walled off without both the injections and the patches along with them."
"I thought he was just… cold," Genesis admitted. The blockers affected more than just your own scent - they made it more difficult to read others emotions and needs, "He always seems as though he just ignores other people's feelings."
Genesis of all people would know - he had been that way when they'd first met as children, always drawn in on himself. His parents were… odd. They had strange ideas about what were appropriate levels of affection between family - and somehow that had always left Genesis on the outside looking in. Genesis would merely turn up his nose and give a haughty sniff, as though it didn't hurt to be rejected by parents that had 'paid good money for an inferior pup whose pheromones didn't quite match up'.
Scent matching in adoption was a bullshit science as far as Angeal's mother had been concerned anyway, there was no way to know if a mother's scent will match an infant's until they had bonded for at least a few weeks.
So, Angeal's mother has carved out a place for the boy whose parents never noticed another adult was scent marking him, which was valid science and necessary for proper child development. It had gone a long way to bringing Genesis up from undersized and touch starved to the tallest and strongest omega in SOLDIER. It was hard to see the sickly youth in the robust man. The boy who had been afraid to reach out was now the one always ready to give and receive affection.
"What if he isn't ignoring them?" Angeal drew the question out thoughtfully, "What if he's simply never sensing them?"
Genesis couldn't help but shiver, the purr rumbling in his throat and vibrating through him into Sephiroth stuttering slightly before he brought it back to an even rhythm. "I can't imagine that, the world being so… flat and colorless."
A look of sudden comprehension flooded Genesis' expression and he leaned down and pressed his face against Sephiroth's scent gland the way Angeal had.
"That's it," he whispered, "that's what he smells like. It's barely there, just… just the smallest bit of lavender-pink you know?"
"Not everyone has hormone synesthesia," Angeal smiled fondly. Genesis had been so confused after presenting that other people didn't see 'the colors' the way he did, "what do you mean by 'lavender-pink'?"
"He smells like a baby , like a pup that hasn't ever presented. Like his hormones are so subtle they're practically nonexistent unless you're cuddling him. It's no wonder we've never smelled him at all - he's just not giving anything out and probably not receiving anyone else's signals as well. Like a fucking baby, Angeal, a six foot tall baby, he's a baby what the fuck?"
"He isn't a child," Angeal said, frowning, the scolding tone more automatic than genuine. He couldn't argue the bit about the scent though. He hadn't exactly spent a great deal of time around children as an adult, but he knew that everyone's hormones didn't truly become strong enough to give away emotion and even location until after presentation - it just wasn't advantageous in their evolution for anything to be able to scent your pups. So children's hormones were only really readable to their parents and other pack members when they were very close at hand.
It was only after presentation that their hormones began to kick in, a miserable time for everyone as they had to learn to try and regulate their emotions and try and parse through the pheromones around them that they'd been oblivious to before. Angeal had suffered quite a bit less than Genesis in that regard - his mother was calm and even keeled at the worst of times and it had been far more easy to adjust. Genesis had not only his parents, who were already unhappy with how he had presented and were also more than a little overbearing, but also a handful of household staff who had their own dramas playing out alongside everything else.
Genesis looked incredibly disturbed as he pulled himself up onto the edge of the tub, his legs dangling in the water as he dragged the limp body up with him to cradle him close and begin to finger comb his hair.
"Do you think anyone's ever done this for him?" he asked, suddenly, and Angeal felt a little sick at the thought that no one ever had.
He could see the pain on Genesis' face, the tension in his shoulders, the way the bad memories of his own childhood morphed the pain into anger and his purring grew into something more fierce and protective than soothing - but Sephiroth didn't come out of his trance, out of the sort of complete relaxation a very young child fell into in just this sort of circumstance. Being cared for by pack, being purred for, being treated well.
"It's almost as if," Genesis said, slowly, as Angeal waded through the water to fetch shampoo, "as if no one has ever touched him. Or…"
"Or no one ever touched him like this. He did say a moment ago that he has 'always' bathed himself. I thought he meant as an adult, but I think it was literal." Angeal felt something in the pit of his stomach open up as he began to wash the long mass of silver hair he pulled over Sephiroth's shoulder.
"I have one of the most beautiful people on the planet naked in my arms," Genesis said, quietly, "and all I want to do is protect him."
Sephiroth came back to himself slowly, feeling beads of water dripping down his forehead from his soaked hair. It felt heavier than usual, draped over the back of what he was resting upon. He blinked up at a ceiling in a dim room, colorful lights flickering ahead of him then drew his attention to the rather large television installed within a heavy oak cabinet and bracketed by shelves full of miscellaneous decoration.
Some dramatic program played on the screen, a man dropping to one knee and grasping a woman's hands with a pleading expression. It felt as though he were hearing it through wads of cotton stuck into his ears but eventually the soundtrack and dialogue reached him. He felt no need to move, no desire to do so, until he realized the heavy warmth on either side of him was the bodies of his squadmates.
Angeal was nestled into the corner of the couch they were sharing for some reason, eyes half closed and not entirely awake as he watched the film. On his other side, Genesis was paying more rapt attention, sipping from a bottle of water filled with bubbles. He could hear the fizz as Genesis set it down on a table beside him.
Sephiroth blinked a few times and tried to stop himself from shifting to get even more comfortable. He didn't feel a terrible sense of urgency at first, warm and pressed between two equally bodies. Genesis was leaning against his side and Angeal's thigh was lined up with his. He hadn't been touched so much in… ever.
"Back with us?" Genesis asked, head tilted to one side to look at him. His expression was strange - it had been strange in the tub before…
Uncertain what to say, not at all accustomed to such a situation, he murmured a quiet, "Yes."
It seemed to mollify the omega, who offered him a fresh bottle of sparkling water with his eyes locked on the program he had been watching. Now that Sephiroth was more aware, Genesis turned the volume up.
Sephiroth spun the bottle between his palms, condensation dripping between his fingers as he studied the elegant glass. He couldn't be entirely certain, but it looked expensive. He'd always wondered why people purchased pre-filled containers of water when it came from the tap already filtered and safe to drink. The only times he had used such a thing were the pouches that came with emergency survival supplies, specially crafted and formulated for hot weather environments.
He spun off the aluminum cap and took a small sip, pulling the bottle away and wrinkling his nose as the strange fizzing sensation filled his mouth with… movement. It buzzed on his tongue and down his throat, leaving a very faint taste of citrus and something plant-like. A picture of a lemon and a slice of cucumber was on the label and he had merely thought it was decoration. He wasn't certain whether he found it pleasant or hated it.
Another sip did not solidify his opinion, and he frowned in concentration as he continued to slowly empty the bottle. By the time there were only dregs left he realized that Genesis was watching him sidelong, a faint smile twitching the corners of his mouth.
"You didn't have to finish it if you hated it you know?" he said, taking the empty bottle back and setting it on the table.
Angeal roused from his half-doze and leaned around Sephiroth to look at what they were speaking about and gave a little groan, "You gave him that? It's gross!" he insisted, "at least give him something nice."
"It's perfectly nice ," Genesis answered back, the words snappish and the last word bitten off. If he hadn't been smiling broadly, Sephiroth would have thought he was genuinely angry. He didn't know what to make of the exchange.
Sounding disgusted, Angeal pushed himself up off of the couch and ambled off towards the kitchenette. The room was the mirror image of the one he had been assigned, with the overlarge bed on one side and a sectioned off area of cabinets and minor cooking equipment. He opened the refrigerator and came back with two chilled bottles of plain water, which Sephiroth took gratefully.
"Do you have any preferences for dinner?" Genesis passed over a few sheets of laminated paper held together by a plastic spiral, and Sephiroth stared at it blankly for a moment before he realized it was a menu, "We were just waiting for you before we ordered."
"You didn't have to wait," Sephiroth protested, the words blurring in front of his eyes as he tried to make sense of it. He had never chosen his meals, unless it was the occasional offer of a different flavor of nutrient drink or self heating rations that all seemed to taste the same regardless of their ingredients.
He barely understood what half of the meals available were, without an ingredient list. He did understand that Hojo would be furious with him for consuming something that wasn't in his personal control. Trying to mask his ignorance, he handed the menu to Angeal and shrugged - another thing that always angered Hojo but he couldn't think of any other response.
Something flickered over Angeal's face as Sephiroth tried to school his own back to blankness to cover his confusion, "I'll get two of what I pick then," he said, and Sephiroth felt relief flood through him, "if Genesis picks it'll be something just as bad as his gross water choices."
"You just have no taste," Genesis said, "I'll bet his palette is far more refined-" he broke off in the middle of his sentence when Sephiroth flinched as the other man nudged his side with his elbow.
The room went… still, somehow. Both men stiffened and Angeal frowned, his nostrils flaring as though he'd smelled something unpleasant.
"I was just teasing," Genesis said, breaking the unexplained tension, "Angeal could you just get me what you choose as well? I suppose we could make it easier on the staff."
"Sure," Angeal seemed to hesitate for some reason, before moving to the telephone mounted on the wall beside the bed and speaking into it to request food. Strangely, it sounded as though he was ordering far more food than was needed - two separate meals and two each of what he chose.
Duty discharged, Angeal dropped back into his place on Sephiroth's other side and he felt himself relaxing for some reason. The alpha's body was warm even through the dark green robe that he wore and Sephiroth looked down to realize he was dressed in just such a thing himself.
"Was I…" he trailed off for a moment, uncertain once more what he should say, "cooperative? I don't entirely recall…"
Angeal gave him another enigmatic expression, his eyes softening somehow and the smile on his lips small, "You were just fine," he said, "I think you were exhausted, on top of everything else. We burned a hell of a lot of calories on that trek and you more than either of us when you got drenched. Food will help."
Sephiroth nodded - the hollow pit in his stomach must be hunger, the twisting feeling in his abdomen a lack of food rather than his equally spiraling emotions. He turned his attention to the screen in front of them when Angeal did the same, feeling his tense muscles relax ever so slightly without being beneath both of their regard.
Genesis muttered something beneath his breath about 'trite holiday films' and Angeal answered back with a smothered chuckle that he very well knew that the omega loved it anyway.
"What's your favorite?" Angeal asked, and Sephiroth realized the question was aimed towards him.
Unable to understand what the question was, Sephiroth hesitated before giving a non-answer that he hoped would appease, "I… suppose I do not have one.
He felt more than saw the two men look at one another behind his back, but they didn't try to challenge him for the prevarication. They sat in silence for several more moments before Genesis spoke up again.
"Since you were resting, I'll sum up," he said, waving a hand towards the television, "it's an overly dramatic retelling of the Holy Flame tale, the poor girl and her destitute family in the middle-of-nowhere-bumfuck mountain village is flipped around to be in the slums in Midgar and they've changed the little girl to a dashing young man trying to find his place in the world. He joins a theater troupe, desperate to play the lead role in the newest Loveless play, and the Holy Flame is all metaphorical and is personified into a romance."
Sephiroth made a soft sound of understanding in the back of his throat, although he didn't entirely understand at all. He'd read a book of mythology which had contained the legend of the Holy Flame and a few of the traditions surrounding the winter solstice. He'd felt sad, and concerned, as he'd read it, the small girl running from house to house, begging for a simple coal or tiny bit of lit tinder. Without a hearth flame or solstice candle the Wild Hunt would pass through and mistake anyone lying in the dark and cold for the dead and sweep them up in its passage across the world and into the Lifestream.
He'd liked that Shiva had answered her prayers, giving her a candle that never lost its flame or substance, and had been foolish enough to ask if it was a true story and whether the secret and hidden shrine that still held the candle existed. Hojo had locked him in an overgrown lot the night of the Solstice, telling him he had better hope he was wrong that myths and legends had any basis in rational fact.
Sephiroth hadn't been swept away by an undead horde led by a god, but he'd curled up in a corner of the lot that was at least somewhat out of the wind and shivered with as much fear as cold. It was just a myth. He knew that now, at least.
And he knew now that he had a much higher tolerance for cold weather than he might have otherwise, and thus the experiment had indeed been a success. He couldn't bring himself to be pleased with the result.
The man on the screen pulled the woman into his arms and kissed her, the group of actors around them burst into whoops and applause. He felt his lips twitch - the actors playing actors was rather funny. A sound huffed out of his nose as the couple was inundated by well wishers, dragged apart to be hoisted on their companions' shoulders and allowed to kiss again before the literal and metaphorical curtains closed. White text began to scroll up the screen to instrumental music that seemed to lean heavily towards different kinds of bells.
Genesis' smile was wide and when his eyes met Sephiroth's they grew wider still, "Let's watch another one after we eat. They're going to play them all on a loop until the day after tomorrow."
Sephiroth startled as a chime sounded from the door, a little tinkling sound as the hotel staff pressed the button to summon them. Angeal rose and went to fetch the rolling cart laden with what looked like giant silver bells - but perhaps that correlation was merely the effect of the music.
The three of them gathered around the table near the kitchenette, the surface barely able to hold every platter. As he had expected, Sephiroth didn't recognize most of the food on the plates - and yes, Angeal had ordered two separate meals with a serving for each of them. At a glance, Angeal explained briefly that rations had additives to bulk them out nutrition and calorie wise, and they needed to eat more especially after their arduous hike. He felt a little stupid for not realizing, but once again neither of them gave any indication that they would react unfavorably.
He could pick out ingredients that he was somewhat familiar with, things that looked a great deal more… vibrant, was the only word he could think of. Ready to eat rations tended to be as bland in color as they were in flavor, although they were one hundred times more preferable to nutrition drinks if only in that they had a variety of textures.
He could pick out potatoes, small chunks of them that had brightly colored red, purple, and golden skins. The meat could have come from any creature, he thought, but it didn't matter when it was covered in thin streams of some reddish liquid.
There was a moment of hesitation as he reached out to try one of the potatoes and he only realized he was being watched by both men when he had already brought the bite to his lips. And then he couldn't pay attention to either of them as flavor burst across his tongue. The potatoes were soft on the outside, the colorful skins somehow crisp like a paper-thin cracker. Salt and fat and sweetness mingled together in his mouth and he forced himself to take another piece slowly instead of putting more into his mouth before he'd swallowed.
The meat was soft and white, the liquid it was covered in sticky sauce that was savory and addictive. The little strips of red and green vegetables were likewise overwhelming in flavor. He'd thought that 'mouth-watering' had been merely a metaphor for enjoyment, but he discovered it was an accurate description.
He ate a bite of each thing in rotation, switching out the flavors of each and testing how they mixed and matched in taste and interest - he enjoyed the texture of the 'capsicum' the most. Asking Angeal what the crunchy strips of vegetable were called had been a little bit embarrassing, but the alpha didn't voice any judgment, he hadn't snapped and Genesis hadn't rolled his eyes - even though he'd seen the man do so for questions from others that he thought should be obvious.
They all ate in silence, Sephiroth eating every scrap of food on the first plate, and then just as slowly savored and enjoyed the second - something he'd had before that had been unpleasantly soft and tasteless was somehow made delicious. The spiral coils of the pasta were pleasantly chewy instead of disintegrating in his mouth, the creamy white sauce filled with vibrant green herbs and bits of some pink protein. He asked, and was answered 'bacon', and nodded as he ate the large portion one little coil at a time.
The third plate he eyed with a little more trepidation. If the meals were a revelation of flavor and vitality, the 'dessert' was something heretofore forbidden and came packed with baggage he wasn't certain he could explain - but he had to, didn't he? It felt like a test, was it?'
"I am not permitted," he said after several minutes had passed and both Genesis and Angeal had finished their portions. Sephiroth was apparently less skilled than he would have liked at concealing his longing to taste it. He had liked the sweet and savory flavor of the potatoes, but he wondered how sweet something that was specifically meant to be enjoyed as such, with no nutritional value whatsoever, was meant to taste like.
Genesis reached out and put a hand on his arm and he realized his fingers had gripped the spoon hard enough to bend the handle of it. He set it down, embarrassed at such a childish display of illogical want.
"I won't tell," Genesis said, "neither of us will, right Angeal?"
The spoon's handle was twisted but still usable as he tentatively scooped up a tiny portion of the white on white cake, a tiny slice of red fruit that smelled fresh and… the only word he could think of was 'bright'. He brought it to his lips, closing his eyes as the sweetness flooded his mouth and coated his tongue. It was fluffy and sweet. He recognized 'vanilla' from the most common nutrient drink he had been given, but there was depth to it and a lack of chalky texture that made it very pleasant. He made an embarrassing sound.
Angeal put a hand on the back of Sephiroth's neck, his thumb smoothing over the thin membrane that stretched over the scent gland that had never worked but somehow the movement was incredibly soothing. Genesis' hand had slipped down to press against the secondary gland that had, again, never served its purpose. He could feel the same strange lassitude that had overcome him in the tub - it should have warned him, it should have made him recoil, but he could help himself from leaning mindlessly into the touch - a touch he didn't deserve, that wasn't his , he wasn't one of them . The creeping unease washed away the desire to relax. This too was forbidden, not only by the professor but through his own good sense and survival instinct.
He dropped the spoon onto the table and pushed himself back and out of the hands that were too soft and comforting. Sephiroth felt a thick knot rise in his throat, and a flicker of humiliation flooded his face with heat. He'd let them too close, they'd seen him in ways he had never before allowed. The need for warmth had shifted into a different kind of need that he didn't know how to comprehend himself let alone apologize for. He tried anyway.
"I am sorry," he said, "This is not, I can't…" He couldn't think properly, the words rambling and incoherent. He would be punished for being so pathetic. "I apologize, excuse me," he bit out, lowering his head.
"I'll not do this again," he said, uncertain whether he was apologizing for trying the cake or accepting their touches, "and I would…" the words caught in his throat. He needed to ask, but what if he put the idea into their heads? If they hadn't thought to report his infraction, his errors in judgment that allowed them to see his bare weakness and leave himself completely in their power to the point he had lost time in the bathroom? If he asked them, and they didn't realize how terrible his transgressions truly were, they might report it. If he didn't ask them, they could report that he hadn't asked. Or they would report that he asked them not to tell? Which would come with harsher penalties?
He took a few steps away from the table, eyes flicking about the room. He knew they were wide and wild and couldn't seem to control his own facial muscles to smooth his expression or stop the trembling in his hands. They shouldn't be so close, shouldn't want to be so close, getting close to him was too dangerous.
Angeal was rising from his seat.
Sephiroth's eyes found the door to his room and he bolted for it, ignoring the calls of the men behind him to stay and speak to them more. If he left it alone, they might leave it alone. He had to hope.
Sephiroth closed the door behind him and held the knob carefully still, waiting to see if they would attempt to follow him. He couldn't bear the thought of Angeal needing to restrain him to report properly and apologize more appropriately for intruding upon their personal business. The fact that he had ended up getting their attention, focusing themselves on him rather than one another as was more appropriate deserved more than a stammered few words of panic. But he couldn't figure out what he would say.
He shut his eyes and listened to the very soft voices on the other side of the door - they must be far from the door and whispering, he couldn't make out any words. One came closer, lighter steps, and so it had to be Genesis. The omega knocked.
"You don't have to hide in there, we aren't upset," Genesis said, his voice far too gentle for someone who… he was gentle before, his hands had been very careful, he'd purred for him. Genesis hadn't seemed like the type to…
"I am fine," Sephiroth said, and added once more, "and I apologize again."
A huff of air, a more familiar sound from the temperamental omega, frustration, "You can't stay in there forever."
Angeal spoke up, a bit further from the door and less threatening for it, "We're going to be snowed in for days. Get some sleep, we'll figure it out in the morning."
Sephiroth did not, in fact, get any sleep. The sheets were cool and smooth when he shimmied beneath them, ordinarily a luxury he enjoyed. Now he just fought down a shiver and curled his knees up. He laid awake, thoughts spinning endlessly as he prepared himself for what may or may not happen when they returned to Midgar. Not liking the thought of being trapped here for days on end like this, in some kind of stalemate waiting for the shoe to drop.
The worst possible outcome, and as he had to come to grips with, the most likely, was that Angeal would report his infraction to the director and thus the director would immediately send his report to professor Hojo. He would be called to the labs and would have to submit to correction. Physical, for being so stupid and careless as to cause himself potential damage by stumbling into a frozen stream. Psychological, for being so weak as to let himself agree to bathe with them. Behavioral to be certain he did not make that mistake again - to remember that he was above such things, that he was not human, that he was a superior being who did not need such things as companionship outside of a battlefield.
He would perhaps be reassigned to another squad who had orders to watch him closer, to report on his every breath, and that would be even worse than the ones before Angeal and Genesis - they had only reported him for their own self promotion and hadn't been watching him as closely as they could have.
The best outcome would be that they remained silent and used this against him at a later date. What they would do about it was uncertain. He didn't want to think about them that way, but there had never been anyone who did not want something from him.
His stomach twisted, nausea rising in his throat as he remembered three people who hadn't wanted anything from him either - but then they might have one day. He had to tell himself that. He'd let them close too, far too close. He'd gone so painfully still when Glenn had wrapped his arms around him. He couldn't stop himself from leaning into Lucia's hand when she brushed her fingers through his hair. He'd fallen asleep leaning against Matt's side.
And he knew how that had gone, in the end. He reached up and pressed his fingers to the gland on his neck, the skin there sore and feeling hot. He drew his other hand against his chest and frowned. His nostrils flared as he brought his hand closer, nearly pressing his nose against the skin of his wrist where Genesis had touched him. An unfamiliar scent was there, painful, raw, sweet at first but sour fear underneath it all in a way he couldn't explain. Genesis, had he been in pain? How would Sephiroth have known? He never could before.
Another twitch of pain made his stomach cramp and he curled around it, his arms wrapping around his middle as he brought his knees up as though to protect his vital organs from a blow. Sliding further beneath the blankets that smell was overwhelming, trapped in the space around his body. He shivered, feeling sweat break out on his forehead and the back of his neck throbbing with a pain that began to creep up into his skull.
"Well that went spectacularly," Genesis placed the beautiful slice of cake back on the cart to be taken back. The smallest of bites was missing, a quarter of a spoon full of cream and a nibble's worth of strawberry. Sephiroth had licked the tiniest traces from the crooked spoon and Angeal plucked it up and tossed it in the garbage - no reason to scare the mundanes, Genesis supposed.
"You smelled that at the end too, right?" Angeal sighed, leaning back against the door after pushing the cart into the hallway.
Genesis nodded, lips twisting into a grimace, "He was fucking terrified - of us , or of something he thought we might do, maybe. Who knows, there's something going on there… what makes him afraid of someone learning he'd eaten cake."
"I don't think that was all of it," Angeal said, staring hard at the closed door the separated them from the distraught man on the other side, "he seemed upset that he relaxed with us - he was afraid then too, a bit, but he didn't really smell like it until the cake. He hadn't smelled like anything till then…"
"Goddess, that bothers the hell out of me," Genesis stepped closer, tucking his head under Angeal's chin and pressing his nose to the scent gland at the curve of his neck. His anxiety was a green so dark it was almost black, like crushed herbs left to oxidize, and his concern and care were a honey-golden balm that Genesis breathed in to center himself.
The arms that wrapped around him kept him steady - Genesis didn't get emotional often, as much as that might surprise… well, anyone who had ever spent more than an afternoon in his company. His fits of pique and temper weren't emotions so much as reactions , or at least that was how he felt about it. He knew he smelled orange and sickly yellow, the memory of the way Sephiroth had collapsed onto him at the slightest bit of care and then panicked at the same filled him with a kind of discomfort he didn't think he'd ever felt before. At least not for someone else.
Angeal bent his head and rubbed his chin against Genesis' shoulder in return, bringing up his hands to gently rub his wrists all over Genesis' neck and shoulders, stripping off the thick green robe. He slapped his palm against the light switch, pulling Genesis with him to the bed and drawing him beneath the plush white blankets. Neither of them did much more than twine their limbs together, listening to each other breathe as Angeal's calming scent filled the space around them.
He'd had plans for the gloriously massive bed from the moment he'd seen it. He'd perhaps even entertained a teeny tiny fantasy that they might be able to lure Sephiroth into it.
There were so few things they truly knew about the other man, about the other… alpha? That had been a natural assumption, such a clearly obvious truth that he didn't think anyone had ever questioned it before. He was simply cold and unattainable, rigorously self controlled, and theoretically using the most powerful and probably weapon's grade scent blockers to avoid giving anything away that he didn't mean to.
But that wasn't the case, was it? Sephiroth didn't smell like anything, because he just… didn't. That wasn't normal, and it certainly wasn't healthy. Angeal's mother had been the one to give him the puberty talk when he'd burst into their home sweating and panicked during his first heat, afraid of what his parents would think to not only have a son who didn't seem to measure up in any way they wanted but also to present as an omega when both his mother and father were alphas.
Angeal's mother hadn't been able to explain why Genesis was being assaulted by colors as well as the heavy and conflicting scents from the Rhapsodos' household, but she'd commiserated that it must be doubly confusing for him.
He thought through the small things they'd learned over the last few hours. The fact that Sephiroth smelled like that . The fact that he had also fallen entirely pliant and limp at the first sign of physical affection and the way he'd gone nearly tranced out when Genesis had instinctively begun to purr. The fact that he had never tasted cake. That last part was less biological and more offensive to Genesis' feelings. Cake. He'd never had cake.
Omegas were protective by design, but he'd always hated the term 'nurturing'. The only thing Genesis had properly practiced nurturing was a grudge. But fuck if those two things might go hand in hand.
Quietly, barely breathing into Angeal's chest, "Who is Sephiroth afraid of? The fuck does it mean that the first thing we smelled from him was fear?"
The sound that rumbled out of the alpha's chest was rather the opposite of a purr. It was a threatening sound that nearly made Genesis relax just as deeply as Sephiroth had - it promised comfort and care and more than that, retribution.
"I don't know," Angeal said, turning his body in a purely instinctive movement that put Genesis beneath him and grabbed the blanket to pull closer around them both - hiding Genesis from the world at large in a way that usually irritated him.
He had the distinct feeling that Angeal wished he could grab Sephiroth and shove him into a little nest with Genesis, and as that was unattainable then Genesis would let him fulfill that need the only way he could, submitting instead of pushing back and tilting his head to let his alpha scent him all over again, until they were both as soothed as much as they could be. Which would have been much better, again, if they could both drag Sephiroth in here with them.
"I don't know," Angeal said again, the growl in his voice going deeper and a little darker, "but I'm going to find out."