Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 7
Bliss
Soft kisses trailed down his neck and he threw his head back, arching. He mouthed a silent moan that did not escaped his throat, turning his head down to meet crimson eyes with mako green. His lover smirked, long raven hair pooling around him as he teased his way down Sephiroth's torso, kissing and licking and touching every inch of the white skin.
Sephiroth knew that he was dead, that he should be dead, but he wanted to live. He wanted to feel, and Vincent had always granted him his wish. There were gaping holes in his memory, gaps that he had never found the will to fill. He had asked Vincent once, when he first awoke in the freezing Northern Crater, about who he was, what he was. His question went unanswered.
He dug a hand into silky black hair, gasping as sensations shot through his body as his lover swallowed him whole. A brief vision of a long silver blade flashed through his mind, accompanied by the odd exhilaration of piercing it through a girl's pink red innocent back. Masamune, his mind supplied, Ancient, it said. He blinked away the visions, pushing them to the back of his mind. He knew that he was missing a vital part of his mind, but the pain that had crossed his lover's eyes when he asked about his past had caused him to stop asking. If he had ever hurt Vincent, he didn't want to know. He never wanted to.
He moaned softly, the sound melding with Vincent's harsh gasp as he was entered. His lover started to thrust, maddeningly slowly. Growling with impatience, Sephiroth gripped slim hips with his calves, rocking back to him. Vincent had always been patient and gentle, too patient, too gentle, with him. It was almost as if he was atoning for a sin he had done him. If he truly were, Sephiroth would never want him to stop atoning. He was a selfish man that way.
Later that night, as he lay cradled in Vincent's arms, sated and safe, he mused that sometimes, the old saying was right. Ignorance was truly bliss.
End
Soft kisses trailed down his neck and he threw his head back, arching. He mouthed a silent moan that did not escaped his throat, turning his head down to meet crimson eyes with mako green. His lover smirked, long raven hair pooling around him as he teased his way down Sephiroth's torso, kissing and licking and touching every inch of the white skin.
Sephiroth knew that he was dead, that he should be dead, but he wanted to live. He wanted to feel, and Vincent had always granted him his wish. There were gaping holes in his memory, gaps that he had never found the will to fill. He had asked Vincent once, when he first awoke in the freezing Northern Crater, about who he was, what he was. His question went unanswered.
He dug a hand into silky black hair, gasping as sensations shot through his body as his lover swallowed him whole. A brief vision of a long silver blade flashed through his mind, accompanied by the odd exhilaration of piercing it through a girl's pink red innocent back. Masamune, his mind supplied, Ancient, it said. He blinked away the visions, pushing them to the back of his mind. He knew that he was missing a vital part of his mind, but the pain that had crossed his lover's eyes when he asked about his past had caused him to stop asking. If he had ever hurt Vincent, he didn't want to know. He never wanted to.
He moaned softly, the sound melding with Vincent's harsh gasp as he was entered. His lover started to thrust, maddeningly slowly. Growling with impatience, Sephiroth gripped slim hips with his calves, rocking back to him. Vincent had always been patient and gentle, too patient, too gentle, with him. It was almost as if he was atoning for a sin he had done him. If he truly were, Sephiroth would never want him to stop atoning. He was a selfish man that way.
Later that night, as he lay cradled in Vincent's arms, sated and safe, he mused that sometimes, the old saying was right. Ignorance was truly bliss.
End
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