Two To Be Human

 

Two To Be Human

 

 

 

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

The bright moonlight made it easier for him to look over the dead town. Perched atop the Shin Ra mansion, blood red eyes scanned over the town of Nibelheim. It had been three months since the last encounter with Sephiroth, and Meteor was barely stopped by Holy.

 

Midgar was the most affected area from the catastrophe; no one knew if it was Sephiroth or Jenova's hatred that drove the huge rock there but the city was nearly inhabitable by now. Reeve did his best to restore the city along with the help of his few followers, for the sake of the remaining residents who survived the tragedy. Last he heard Cloud and the rest of the Avalanche offered their help in the project too.

 

But 'the rest of the Avalanche' did not include him. Not that they did not want him to be, just Vincent preferred his solitude. After the battle he decided to return to Nibelheim and live the remainder of his sad life alone. He did not want to incorporate in other people's lives anymore. Before, he had agreed to participate in the battle just to see Hojo dead because of what the psychotic man did to his lover, Lucrecia.

 

And her son.

 

Sephiroth…whenever that name was brought up in their conversations, sorrow washed over his heart. Whenever the group discussed about Lucrecia's damned son, he had remained silent. He wasn't against the mission, but that did not mean he supported it either. He honestly did not know what he could do in order to right the wrong and save the innocent soul.

 

Yes, to Vincent, Sephiroth was innocent.

 

Innocent in his mind, innocent in his actions, innocent in every way he existed ever since he came to this world. Sephiroth was innocent because he was born, raised and lived in a world that never once allowed him to manage his own life. To live his own life, in his own way, with his own needs. He was allowed to think, yes, but he was chained to Shin Ra and then Jenova. No matter how smart he got, how good he performed, Sephiroth remained as a priceless puppet to them.

 

And Vincent failed to save Sephiroth, the only child of his only lover.

 

Maybe Hojo was Sephiroth's real father, maybe Lucrecia did not love him the way he loved her, like she told him, but Vincent knew he could never hold grudges against the one he loved with all his heart. Even though Lucrecia left him for Hojo, he never blamed her. Even when Lucrecia was pregnant with Hojo's child, he never stopped loving her, never stopped caring for her. Because she remained as the only woman he ever loved. Whenever Lucrecia looked up to him, her emerald eyes were misty and grey with guilt, yet he dismissed her sorrow with understanding smiles, never forced, as his eyes told her exactly how he felt. No anger. No grudges. That's how Vincent's love was. Complete understanding and acceptance surpassing a saint's. The ebony-haired gunman was always there with her whenever she needed him, watching how she ran her hand up and down her swelling belly when she sat by the window, when she thought he wasn't looking, a soft smile on her lips. Vincent adored the smile, he adored the expression, adored her joy. It's not important if Hojo's the father of the baby, it was Lucrecia's too. His lover's child. The one who made those soft, gentle smiles appear in Lucrecia's graying face. The child bore not his father's sin. It was pure and it'll remain so.

 

Vincent sighed softly, feeling his hot breath hit the thick cloth in front of his face. The air was getting colder, chilly November wind raked through his thick, ebony hair. Nibelheim remained silent and dead to the world for the last two months. Maybe the 'residents' of the town had realized that their pretense was no longer needed; and so they left a month after Meteor struck, leaving the town empty as it should have been for the last six years. The buildings stood erect as old ghosts inhabited the silent walls. Vincent came to the mansion right after everyone left, stayed in the deserted town as he counted everyday that passed in loneliness and guilt. His 'friends' contacted him once in a while and he humored their calls, just to say that he was still alive. It wasn't frequent that he had calls, as they knew he needed his privacy. After two months, they slowed down, being they were also busy with their own lives. It did not bother Vincent at all; he was used to the silence and fairly missed it, though he always had his PHS nearby. Just in case.

 

Pushing himself up, he heard a few cracks from his joints as the result of squatting for too long on the roof. The sun had set a few hours ago and the sky was nearly pitched black. With his cape flapping wildly behind him, Vincent walked down the steep roof and jumped into the nearby window into the old mansion. His blood red eyes were used to seeing in the dark, being that he had dwelled in it for the past twenty-seven years, so he felt it wasn't necessary to add another source of light into the gloomy mansion. The monsters had been completely purged from the mansion last month so he did not need to worry about being attacked by floating pumpkins or swinging scythes.

 

The former Turk had cleaned a few things around the mansion; changed the bed sheets, mopped the dusty floor (actually just flooded the floor and let it dry) and brushed the cobwebs from the ceiling. He still needed to clean the furniture and rearrange them to make the mansion more inhabitable. He even watered the plants. Taking a few languid steps down the stairs towards the hall, his sensitive ears perked up at a soft creak. His right hand immediately reached underneath the cape behind him, snatching Death Penalty out of its holster quickly yet quietly as he ducked in the shadows, preventing the moonlight to reflect on his weapon.

 

Vincent's brow narrowed, hearing the creak again, only louder this time. It was like someone pushing the front door slowly, testing the sound the old hinges made. His breath slowed cautiously as he heard heavy footsteps walked into the mansion. It sounded rather human and too clumsy to be a monster so the gunman used the skills he learnt as a Turk to creep nearer towards the lobby to get a better look. After a few meters, he could hear the intruder's soft pants, inhaling and exhaling the cold night air harshly as if he just ran to Nibelheim from Rocket Town.

 

(Cid? No…he'd rather take Highwind. He would even use it to get the groceries if he had the chance to.) If it wasn't a serious situation Vincent would smirk at the mental remark. His eyes strained in the dark to identify the shadow by the door. It was a male and given the build, Vincent guessed that the man was at least as tall as him, if not taller. What puzzled him was the wet sound of water hitting the wooden floor, pooling on it until the drips sounded louder and thicker. (It's not water…)  Vincent felt his grip on Death Penalty tighten, watching the shadow slowly moved away from the door. He limped towards the stairs, towards him. Vincent wondered if the intruder already saw him but if he did, he did not show it.

 

When the shadow was only three feet away from him, Vincent jumped out of his hiding area and cocked his gun straight at the man's head. "Who are you?" He saw the dark figure stall for a while, not at all expecting a companion in the abandoned mansion. The gunman saw the intruder slowly back away, never answering the question before he turned and rushed towards the door. Vincent acted faster as usual, shooting at the door and floor to halt the intruder's progress and hesitantly, whoever he was, complied and stayed on his last spot.

 

"I asked who are you…" Vincent repeated calmly, knowing he had the upper hand of this situation. His gun was still carefully aimed at the intruder's head and he wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger on the current target should the other resisted to comply.

 

The dark shadow shifted a bit, almost swaying on his feet as he spoke with a bitten growl, "You know who I am…" Vincent felt a sudden chill crawled up his spine at the familiarity of the deep, low voice. His eyes narrowed, debating with himself at the near impossibility. (It can't be!)

 

"Stay where you are," he commanded sternly, slowly inching towards the power box on the wall. His eyes and weapon were always trained on the dark figure to make sure that the shadow followed his order. Fortunately the intruder maintained his ground, watching and waiting in silence as the gunman fumbled for the switch. Vincent narrowed his eyes, knowing the sudden brightness would affect his sight before he flipped the switch. Light washed over the dark room in an instant, not sparing even an inch to the shadows. His eyes squinting, the gunman heard a soft groan from the intruder, probably sharing his discomfort at the sudden light.

 

Vincent felt his jaws slacken, blood-red eyes widening at seeing who the intruder really was. After a while, his composure returned and his grip on Death Penalty grew confident, "What…are you doing here? How did you survive?"

 

"I haven't…survived yet," the other man spoke. It was obvious that even speaking tormented him. Vincent's eyes raked over the battered form, noting multiple, bleeding gashes marring the once untouchable body. Rivulets of dark blood dripped to the floor in a steady, agonizing tempo, seeping into the old, dusty wooden floor starting from the door until where the other man currently stood. "I came here…because…I was born here…"

 

"So you knew…," Vincent whispered, meeting the pair of catlike jade eyes in front of him evenly. The green orbs maintained their pride although he knew everything was falling apart within the battered warrior. No mortal could survive with injuries that severe…and Sephiroth was no immortal.

 

"Of course I knew…" Said Sephiroth with a growl, almost annoyed at this delaying conversation. He was tired. Tired and hurt. The air was heavier and even warmer than his body. He knew he was going to die. He wanted to return to where he first came to this world and die there, that's why he had walked all the way to this small, abandoned town from the Northern Crater, enduring the heat and frost while he only had a pair of tattered pants and worn out boots as protection. Even Masamune was lost from the last duel; the legendary weapon which only he could wield was buried deep within the crater. The silver-haired warrior laughed bitterly at his motivation. How ironic that he wanted to die at the very place he abhorred, the very place he was born and the very place that made him into what he'd became. (Let everything start and end the way it should be…)

 

"Out of my way," he said tonelessly, stepping forward and that earned him a click from Vincent's gun.

 

The former Turk cocked his gun warily, "Where do you think you're going?" He wasn't going to let Sephiroth get away so easily. It would be foolish to underestimate the former general just because he did not have his long sword. Vincent even ignored the thick smell of blood in the air as he continued to observe the other man through his gun-site.

 

Sephiroth snarled, not used to receiving negative response to his demands. He glared at the ebony-haired man murderously before steeping forward again. "I will go…wherever I want. You can't stop me."

 

"I think I can," replied Vincent, feeling the trigger at the tip of his finger. He was ready to pull it should Sephiroth try anything.

 

"Are you proposing that I should stand here all night?" retorted the silver-haired man in irritation, angered at the fact that he could not do anything to fight the older man, and the fact that he was swaying on his feet. He could hear his blood dripping on the floor, his body gradually losing its warmth. His life was slipping away, and he refused to fall right there. With what was left of his legendary strength and agility, Sephiroth dove and sprinted towards the stairs. This automatically set off the alarm in Vincent's head as he pulled the trigger, Death Penalty spitting bullets towards its prey. It barely missed the swordsman as Sephiroth leapt nearly three feet above the former Turk's head, dropping on his knees when he landed on the stairs. He was exhausted, and he was in no condition to fight anymore. Sephiroth wasted no time as he scrambled to his feet, hearing bullets whizzing over his head. He dashed towards the left wing of the building, ducking occasionally to avoid Vincent's shots. One of the bullets managed to graze his shoulder though and he only groaned at the additional pain. It was little compared to the agony he felt all his life…and it all was about to end. Death never sounded so sweet before.

 

"Stop!" Vincent ran up the stairs but Sephiroth had already disappeared into one of the rooms. (That room…) The ebony-haired gunman rushed to follow the silver-haired man's track, making sure his gun was fully reloaded should he need it again. When he finally reached the room, he saw the bookshelf had already shifted. Vincent poked his head into the secret passage, seeing a glimpse of silver disappearing at the end of the stairs. Muttering a curse, he fled down the stairs, hearing the other man's hurried footsteps grow distinct. (What more does he want with the old library!? Doesn't he already know everything?)

 

 

~*~

 

 

Sephiroth stopped running, his breath coming out in short, harsh pants. He had never felt this tired before. It felt as if his limbs were about to fall apart. (Is this…how it feels…to die?) He lifted his face wearily, looking at the empty basement. With the help of a few fluorescent lamps, he made his way through the books scattered on the floor towards the table at the back of the racks. Flashes of his past played within his mind as he remembered how it all began. (It starts from here…) The books, the documents, the reports…all there. (All lies…) The voices he heard all his life…it lied to him and played with his mind. (Jenova…I wish you were still alive…so then I could kill you with my own hands!) Sephiroth laughed bitterly, it almost sounded like he really had lost his mind. (Kill it? I don't even have the strength to keep on living…)

 

"Sephiroth." The said man turned around slowly, knowing who spoke his name so fearlessly. Sephiroth leaned against the table to remain upright, scanning the former Turk who stood at the end of the small passage across him. The gunman did not point his gun at him this time, probably realizing he did not need to anymore.

 

"What more…do you want, Vincent?" the former general spat coldly, pushing against the edge of the table to stay on his feet. He was starting to feel a little dizzy from the loss of blood. He wished his hands would stop shaking; it wasn't out of fear, it was out of weakness, and he mentally cursed as the crimson orbs noticed this.

 

Realizing the other man was not able to harm anyone anymore in his current state, Vincent gained confidence and stepped forward. He had put his gun away because he was sure he did not need it now. If Sephiroth intended to harm him, he would have done so earlier even in his weakened state. The silver-haired man's legendary title wasn't given for nothing.

 

"Why do you wish to die here?" asked Vincent calmly, trying to study the younger man's pale face that resembled his lover's so much.

 

"Because my birth mother died here," Sephiroth replied, lifting his face to return the older gunman's gaze, "Isn't that right, Vincent?"

 

Vincent sighed shakily, he was surprised to know the silver-haired man knew so much more than what he expected. "…You knew…why did you listen to Jenova then!?  What else do you know!?"

 

"Because I hate the reason I was brought to life!!" Sephiroth shook his head slowly, his head bowing as he tried to curb his pain. "It doesn't matter…I'm going to die and it'll all be over, it'll all follow me to the grave…if I'm lucky enough to even have one," he said bitterly, watching the ebony-haired man through his bloody, silver bangs. He was now where he wanted to be, he wasn't afraid to die. Sephiroth wondered when the former Turk would pull out his gun and put an end to his miserable life. He was tired and so exhausted of this world…

 

"Why did you not heal yourself?" Vincent saw Sephiroth stare at him as if he had said the most absurd thing he ever heard; yet he ignored it. "I found a few materias on you. Why do you wish to surrender so easily to death?"

 

"Why do you ask so much? Why do you care if I want to die? Why act as if you know me?" the younger man shot equally clipped before he paused, heaving heavily as his body began to grow weary from the strain. "Leave," he choked whispered, trying to maintain his pride, "If you don't, I'll make you."

 

"If I don't, what will you do, Sephiroth?" Vincent tested, advancing more confidently. He knew the other man's threats were harmless by now. "What will you do if I don't obey your orders? You can barely stand in your current state, much less fight so don't expect me to back away. You need help."

 

"I NEED!?" Sephiroth roared; his jade eyes darkened in anger as he swayed slightly on his feet, trying to control his temper. "Stop telling me what I need! I know what I need! I need absolutely nothing!!" He did not notice when Vincent stood in front of him but his temper fled when the older man's claw grabbed his right wrist.

 

Knowing the effect of the shock, Vincent countered the former general's words with a calm voice, "You need someone, an honest companion in your life. Don't bother to deny that, Sephiroth. Now, come with me, I won't let you die here." With the silver-haired man still in a daze after hearing what he said, Vincent tugged on the limp hand to move after him. When he met a resistance, the gunman looked over his shoulder and sure enough, a dark scowl was plastered on Sephiroth's pallid face.

 

"Let go," Sephiroth hissed dangerously but the gunman ignored him. He stumbled forward as the result of Vincent's forceful tug and that made his blood boil. Not really caring how his body protested such movement, Sephiroth swung his left fist towards the gunman's head. Sensing the attack, Vincent dodged and grabbed both the younger man's wrists before slamming the battered body into the dusty shelves. Sephiroth only groaned at the impact, gritting his teeth as blood leaked from his lips. His wrists were painfully pinned on each side of his head, rendering him totally helpless.

 

"Listen," his vision was becoming blurry from exhaustion but he could clearly hear each word Vincent said, "It's understandable that you don't trust me but I do wish to help. Rest now…and leave everything else to me." Something about what the older man said calmed him, how he whispered the comforting promise so confidently as if it was all right to believe in it. Sephiroth had never been a believer, but since he no longer had anything to lose, what did it matter? (The worst he can do is what I should be anyway…) Closing his eyes, Sephiroth could feel his heart slowing; his breath grew faint and weak. He let his head fall forward, feeling his forehead rest against a thick, warm, crimson cloth. The former general felt the grip around his wrists loosened and they moved to support his torso before his world faded into complete blackness.

 

 

~*~

 

 

Warm.

 

He felt something warm hit his face…and after a while he realized that it was the sun. His eyes rolled lazily under the pale lids as he refused to open them so early in the bright light. His whole body felt like it was made of lead. Letting a small groan escape, Sephiroth finally cracked his eyes open, the reality of being alive slowly hit his awareness. He found himself lying on a large bed in a fairly large room, probably the largest inhabitable room within the old mansion. There's an old piano at one corner of the room, sunlight glinted from the edge of its ebony body. The fresh smell of lilies and roses filled the room, easing his confused thoughts as he relaxed his limbs. (When was the last time I felt this comfortable?) Sephiroth yawned, feeling sleep still hovering over his tired eyes

 

"Good to see you're finally up." Catlike jade eyes widened in alarm, immediately spotting Vincent by the door. The gunman was fully clad in black; his ebony hair seemed to merge with the dark outfit he wore. He looked different without the deep red cloak; more casual and younger than his real age. Only then did Sephiroth realize that the other man's cloak was draped over him.

 

"You can use it for now, I don't need it as much," said Vincent when he saw the silver-haired swordsman was about to push the red cloth off his form. The former Turk languidly made his way towards the bedside, aware of Sephiroth's wary gaze on his every movement. "How are you feeling?"

 

"Why did you help me?"

 

"Are you hungry? I've prepared some soup in the kitchen." Vincent decided to ignore the younger man's question and that irked Sephiroth more.

 

"You should've let me die." (If you're just going to ignore me…) Sephiroth added mentally.

 

"You've been unconscious for a week."

 

That won the silver-haired man's attention as his eyes narrowed cynically, not ready to believe the gunman. Vincent ignored the glare aimed at him, taking a seat on an old wooden chair beside the former general's bed which creaked softly in protest at his weight. The furniture within the mansion needed to be repaired or replaced to accommodate the inhabiting people. Vincent would take a few chairs and tables from the other vacant houses later; he was too worried to leave Sephiroth alone. (Who knows what he will do.)

 

Sephiroth stared at the older man, wary of the small distance between them. When Vincent tried to feel his forehead, the silver-haired man jerked his face from the gunman's reach. He swore inwardly, greatly insulted when he saw an amused smile ghosting on the former Turk's pale lips. Vincent pressed his human palm lightly against the former general's forehead, feeling the heat seeping through the thick glove he wore. He could sense the anger humming from the sick man yet he pretended as if it was oblivious to him, continuing his ministrations as he checked the temperature with the back of his hand on the former general's neck before sliding it slowly to rest the palm of his hand on the hard chest. Vincent could feel the man's pulse pounding powerfully against his palm and nodded minutely, relieved to find it has gotten stronger than before. He had used Full-Cure to heal all the swordsman's injuries and kept an eye over his condition for a week. His hard work proved not to be in vain. (Son of Lucrecia…maybe I can save you.) "Stay here. I'll bring food." Glancing once at the shock-filled jade orbs, Vincent walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

 

Following Vincent's retreating form with surprise and confusion swirling in his head, Sephiroth barely registered what just happened as he gaped wordlessly at the closed door. (What…did he do?) No one had ever touched him so carefully before. It was as if Vincent truly cared about his feelings. (Usually they just grab and toss me around…not really caring if I bruised. Even if I did, it wouldn't last long enough for them to notice, and they thought they did not do anything. After that I never allowed anyone to touch me anymore…) Sephiroth winched, trying to lift his left hand and slowly traced the echoes of Vincent's alien touches as if remembering how it felt.

 

"No…" (He doesn't care…no one cares! Maybe now he's contacting Strife so they all can gang up and torture me to death. This is just a trick!) Anger returned in his chest as he shoved the red cape off him, intent of leaving the place as soon as possible. He would not let them have the chance to humiliate him even further. Exposing his legs, he realized he was now clad in a black, baggy pants. Sephiroth's sharp brows narrowed critically at this, not favoring the thought of the ebony-haired gunman changing him into them. He adored his battle-worn leather pants; they were the only possession he had left since he had lost Masamune. Once his bare feet connected to the wooden floor, Sephiroth pushed himself to stand straight and used the bedside table as a leverage to stabilize himself. When he was about to step forward, his strength fled and the former general fell to his knees with a pained groan. (I can't…get up.)

 

At the sound of the door opening, Sephiroth's head snapped up and saw Vincent stood there watching him, a white, ceramic bowl in his golden claw. Wisps of steam rose from the bowl's hot content, disappearing just inches above the ceramic. The silver-haired man growled menacingly to stop the gunman's advance, "Go away."

 

"You need to stay in bed, Sephiroth," Vincent stated flatly, nearing the sick man slowly. Sephiroth pushed himself from his crawling position to sit on the floor, a dry scoff escaped his lips as he regarded the former Turk with a piercing glare, "I don't need your fake pity, Vincent. Have you called Strife yet?"

 

The ebony-haired gunman seemed to be taken aback at the retort, a flash of hurt danced in his crimson eyes. "Sephiroth, I've promised to help you. If I want you to die, there's no need to call Cloud Strife, I can see it to myself."

 

The former general let out a bitter laugh, inching towards the bedside and grabbing the soft mattress to pull himself up. "Maybe you can't do it, because I remind you so much of my birth mother." He paused; smirking in satisfaction when he saw the hollow depression flickered in the other man's eyes. "Tell me, do I?"

 

Vincent closed his eyes, feeling the warm tears pricked from behind his eyes as he struggled to calm himself. He did not want to compare their resemblance because it had haunted his life for so long and it hurt. "Yes…," he finally choked,"…you do look so much like Lucrecia." The gunman lifted his face to look at the younger man, a composed, grim expression on his face as it was his turn to ask, "What else do you know?"

 

Sephiroth had regained his footing beside the bed, leaning against the bedside table to remain standing. "That my mother is long dead and my father is indeed a horrific monster-dead if I remember right that you killed him, about Jenova project and everything that happened to the people around me until my supposedly second 'death'? I'd say plenty," he spat acidly, the sarcasm thickly coated the word 'death'. He saw the ebony-haired gunman did not even appear perturbed by his harsh tone or else he was good in hiding it. (If you think I don't know anything, I do. I'm not a fool, Vincent…Lifestream has showed me more than enough.) "I also know you, Vincent Valentine. If you truly loved her, why did not you take her away?"

 

Crimson eyes could only widened in awe and curiosity at the silver-haired man's knowledge. (Perhaps he DOES know everything…) "It was beyond my power to convince her to follow me, and I regret that," Vincent admitted sorrowfully, remembering how Lucrecia chose Hojo over himself. His head snapped up hearing Sephiroth's dry scoff.

 

"Mother left you because you're weak. All that you can do now is regret all your life until the day you die."

 

Vincent smiled bitterly, knowing the truth spoken by the younger man. He did regret, and still continued to. "I am now…only death is still so far away from me," he whispered melancholically. He stepped forward and placed the bowl on the chair beside the bed, stepping back slowly as the former general watched his every movement. "Enjoy your soup; call me if you need anything else." With that, Vincent stepped out of the room with a heavy heart filled with grief. 

 

 

~*~

 

 

Dark clouds hovered above Nibelheim, casting a dark shadow over the small depressing town. Rain pelted against the windowsill in a heavy downpour, it had been raining non-stop for two days now. Vincent remembered the weather in the mountains were usually unpredictable during cold months so he stayed inside the mansion. Sitting on the top of the stairs, he disassembled Death Penalty and polished every part of the weapon, examining every inch to make sure it stayed in top condition. The gun was the last memento from Lucrecia, which meant it was more than a weapon to aid in battle for him. Swiping a large mug from beside him, he indulged on the hot coffee in his hands as he sipped the black liquid slowly. Thunder was raging outside the mansion; he could not remember witnessing such a bad weather in Nibelheim before.

 

(I wonder if his condition has improved...) He tossed his gaze at the closed door across him, wondering if he should check on the room's occupant. Vincent hadn't stepped into that room for two days now, being his wound still stung from their previous encounter. However the gunman realized; there's no use of feeling hurt, when he was the first one who had hurt the man. He failed to save his lover, now he had almost failed his lover's son. Vincent carefully placed his mug down and straightened, feeling that he should at least check on the man.

 

Standing in front of the door, the ebony-haired former Turk suddenly felt a sudden brush of chill crawled up his spine. At first he hesitated, debating with himself whether to enter the room or not. He slowly pressed his ear on the old oak door, trying to listen to the movement inside the room. It was too quiet… Hearing no sound from the other side of the door alarmed the gunman, his heart drenched with worry. He quickly turned the knob and pushed the old door open. He half-cringed at the creaky sound it made while his crimson eyes scanned the dark room almost frantically. The worst it could be was the former general fleeing or committed suicide. The last possibility churned his stomach.

 

"Sephiroth." Vincent breathed out in relief, seeing the silver-haired man was still lying on the bed. He could see the younger man's chest rose and fell softly in the dark so that erased both options swiftly. Feeling he had barged in needlessly, Vincent thought an apology was needed, "I'm sorry. I just wanted to check on your condition. Are you feeling better?"

 

"…"

 

He saw Sephiroth's eyes were open, the luminous green of his eyes as the result of his various Mako treatment was obvious in the darkness. The silver-haired swordsman kept his silence, staring at the ceiling blankly. Seeing the other man did not appreciate his presence, Vincent gave up on expecting any response. "Have you eaten? I will take away the dish then." When he stepped nearer to the bedside, he saw the bowl was still sitting on the chair as the last time he placed it there, and the content was untouched. Vincent narrowed his eyes slightly at this, not favoring the idea of Lucrecia's son trying to starve himself to death.

 

"I'm not really that bad of a cook if that's what you're afraid of," he mumbled slowly, taking the bowl to dispose the stale content out of the window. The wind was raging hard outside and Vincent had to struggle a little to close the window back. Rubbing his arms where the chilly breeze had touched, he glanced at the lying form on the bed. The man was too quiet, too still for his comfort.

 

"Sephiroth?" By now Vincent did not care if the general would punch him for being an annoyance. Better being annoying than being ignorant. He kneeled beside the swordsman's bed, seeing the glowing catlike orbs were now focused on him. "Are you all right?" Vincent asked again, hoping the other man would react. Shout at him, punch him in the face. Mock him. He did not care; he just needed a response from the other man so it would dispel his anxiety.

 

Vincent saw Sephiroth parted his parched lips as if to say something, concentrating to listen to the younger man's voice in the heavy downpour. Sephiroth breath left his mouth soundlessly before he finally could form a word, "…C…c-cold…"

 

At once Vincent placed his human palm on the silver-haired man's chest and his eyes grew dramatically at how icy the skin felt. He grabbed the pile of sheets discarded on the floor and draped it over Sephiroth's prone form. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Vincent half-chided, his brows knotted into an annoyed frown as he rubbed his human hand against one limp arm to produce some heat. Hearing Sephiroth's teeth clatter from the cold made him realized that it wasn't enough, so he needed to think of a way to make the former general warmer quickly. He briefly scanned the room and was dismayed to find no fireplace in the room. (There's only one way…) Vincent licked his lips, suddenly nervous to voice his suggestion.

 

"Sephiroth, you may not like this, but it's the only way to prevent you from freezing to death." The silver-haired man just looked at him mutely; his eyes were glazed with exhaustion. Vincent cautiously crawled on the bed after he discarded his boots on the floor, fixing the layers of blankets on the cold body before he wrapped his arms around the robust torso. Sephiroth let out a soft groan as the older man lifted his torso up almost into a sitting position; his face was pushed between the crook of Vincent's neck while the older man ran his claw up and down his covered back, trying to regulate his blood flow.

 

"Nngh…" Vincent shivered hearing the former general's soft moan, feeling the man released a sharp breath on his neck as the Sephiroth stiffened slightly at the unfamiliar contact. After a while, the younger man finally relaxed in his hold and curled himself against Vincent to obtain more heat from the gunman. Vincent lowered his head until his chin rested on Sephiroth's shoulder, gathering more of the blanket in his arms and readjusting the pillow behind the silver-haired man's head. Cautiously, he lowered himself and Sephiroth on the bed while keeping their tight embrace. Although in his hazy state, Sephiroth realized what was going on and his eyes grew as wide as saucers, not believing what was currently happening.

 

Feeling the silver-haired man struggling under him, Vincent lifted himself up to look at the silver-haired man's expression. "You don't have to worry; I'm here just to keep you warm. I won't breach anything without your consent." That assurance managed to ease Sephiroth a bit before he finally stopped struggling altogether a few moments later. His body was still shivering from the cold; therefore Vincent did his best to make sure he covered the swordsman's body with his own. The ebony-haired man brushed the silver bangs out of Sephiroth's face with his human hand and rested his fingers on the smooth cheek, trying to distribute as much heat as possible.

 

"Sleep now. Do not worry about anything." Vincent watched the son of Lucrecia slowly close his eyes, adjusting to the new position and heat, before the gunman shifted and made sure that both of them would be comfortable for another six hours. Resting his head on the pillow beside Sephiroth's head, Vincent slowly followed his suit into a peaceful slumber.

 

 

~*~

 

 

He thought he heard birds chirping outside the window. The fresh scent of wet soil and damp air after rain mingled within the air as he opened his eyes, feeling the warm pecks of sunrays peeking through the tiny cracks on the wall. At first he did not remember where he was, staring blankly at the old ceiling. He felt very comfortable, despite this feeling of being pressed down. Then he heard soft breathing besides his own, the hot air tickled his right ear slightly. (Vincent.) Sephiroth turned his head and there he was, the gunman, sleeping so peacefully while they shared the same pillow. Vincent's body was nearly all over his, reminding the silver-haired man about the temperature last night. (I nearly froze to death…)

 

"Mmm…" A sudden nervousness slammed into Sephiroth's chest when Vincent slowly regained his consciousness. He watched unblinkingly as the older man groggily lifted his head from the pillow, pushing himself up on all fours before he hovered over the silver-haired man. His human hand slid up from Sephiroth's shoulder to his neck, then his cheek. Sephiroth wasn't sure how to react while Vincent's fingers roamed his face; he even doubted the ebony-haired man was fully aware of what he was doing, so the former general opted to watch.

 

He could see Vincent frown slightly before his eyebrows eased, probably finding the silver-haired man's temperature healthier compared to last night. Still with his eyes closed, Vincent placed a finger under the swordsman's nose as if to check his breathing. Sephiroth did not realize he was holding his breath until the frown reappeared on the gunman's face, now hovering mere inches above his own. The silver-haired man jumped and exhaled sharply when Vincent slid his hand downwards, placing his palm flat on the younger man's left chest. Finally the ebony-haired man opened his eyes, feeling the sudden gust of air hit his face, ruby red meeting icy jade for the first time that day.

 

"…Good morning." Sephiroth blinked in confusion at how casual the older man sounded; as if there was no enmity existed between them at all. He saw the gunman slowly rise, his heat fading as the former Turk sat next to him on the bed. The sunlight washed over the older man's body and he noticed that Vincent was still clad in his black clothes. At once an unfamiliar warmth rose to his cheeks, remembering the ebony-haired man's promise last night. Sephiroth struggled to compose himself, putting the usual indifferent mask up when he realized Vincent was watching.

 

"I will be in the kitchen to make some breakfast," Vincent told the silver-haired man as he slipped into his boots. "You can continue sleeping if you wish, you really need the rest." Before Sephiroth could open his mouth to say anything, the gunman was already gone.

 

Half an hour later, Vincent walked into the bedroom with a tray of mushroom soup and a glass of water. His eyes softened at the sight of Sephiroth sleeping on the bed, curled within the confine of thick covers. (Just like a child...) Placing the tray on the bedside table, Vincent grasped the silver-haired man's shoulders and shook him gently. "Sephiroth." The younger man's eyelids fluttered open slowly, his jade orbs moved to regard the ebony-haired man's presence. Vincent offered him a tiny smile, unused to do it for himself, "Breakfast is here."

 

He watched the catlike eyes blinked a few times until the grogginess was fully out of them, replaced with a new sense of acuity. Sephiroth barely made a sound when the former Turk helped him to sit on the bed, only winched slightly because his body was still not used to the new position. Vincent wrapped his cape around the silver-haired man's shoulders to ensure the man was warm enough. "I'll try to find a shirt for you later. The rain has stopped but it is still cold outside," promised Vincent, securing the cape around Sephiroth with one of the belts. Suddenly the silver-haired man's hand shot up and gripped his wrist firmly. His strength barely returned but it was enough to halt the gunman.

 

"You pulled me from death's grip…twice. Why?" There was no anger or sarcasm in the swordsman's tone, but confusion. He lifted his face to stare at the gunman with almost childlike curiosity, unable to comprehend the older man's treatment towards him after all he had said and done. Jade eyes narrowed slightly in apprehension, "Don't tell me it's because of my mother. She died too long ago, before I even know her."

 

Vincent sighed, letting his hand fall on the pile of thick covers on the bed after Sephiroth released him, "It's true…," he admitted, "…part of the reason was for Lucrecia, but you too, Sephiroth, deserve a lot of better things in your life." He gazed at the former general from beneath his dark bangs, "You never had the chance, but now I'm trying to give you a better beginning, at least that's how I think. You deserve better."

 

Sephiroth felt his throat tighten, "How…how could you sound as if you know me so well?" Vincent shook his head slowly, "No, to tell the truth, I don't know you, Sephiroth. That is just what I felt when I tried to put myself in your position. Added with the information I've gathered during the travels, I managed to grasp a little of the facts." Sighing softly, the gunman added almost in a whisper, "We hide behind the mask of apathy; our pain is much more similar than we think…"

 

"…Maybe," Sephiroth mumbled, eyes downcast to look at his hands in his lap, "…because your accuracy was astounding…" No one had tried to relate to his pain before; no one even cared to try. They all thought he had no feelings thus he did not experience these problems called emotions. They're wrong. (I am human…why won't they treat me as one?) Sephiroth did not realize when Vincent had moved closer, the older man slowly pulled the former general to his chest. "No one should endure such great sorrow in his life. You're only human, Sephiroth, there is no wrong in letting it out." Sephiroth blinked, not comprehending the older man's words but slowly he realized the burning sensation behind his eyes, feeling something hot and wet dropped on his cheeks.

 

"I'm not crying." It was useless to protest his body's urges but his pride still wouldn't let him show any weakness.

 

"It's alright to cry, Sephiroth." Vincent pulled the silver head closer, stroking it carefully as if the silver-haired swordsman was made of glass. "It's alright…no one's here to blame you for it."

 

"I am not crying," protested the silver-haired man firmly, his voice muffled as he buried his face into the older man's chest. Vincent smiled knowingly, allowing the other man a moment to sort himself out while he stroked the silver mane behind Sephiroth's back. He pushed the platinum strands stuck behind the man's neck and shuddered slightly when Sephiroth moaned at the caress. (Why do I feel this way? Is it because he's your son, Lucrecia?) Vincent felt the younger man began to pull away so he let him go. There was a faint flush on his cheeks, probably from the breakdown but other than that, the jade eyes glowed as intense as ever.

 

"I'm…sorry," the swordsman apologized, much to Vincent's surprise but he managed to hide it, "About what I said before too."

 

"I've already forgiven you," Vincent confessed softly.

 

The former general looked at Vincent with a solemn expression, "Tell anyone about this, I'll hunt you down, Vincent." The former Turk couldn't help but to chuckle at the younger man's threat, it was rather humorous the way the silver-haired man said it so seriously. He knew the subject itself wasn't humorous and Sephiroth was mildly startled seeing the ebony-haired man burst like that. "Don't worry, my lips are sealed," Vincent guaranteed when his chuckle died down after seeing the annoyed frown began to form on the younger man's face. Sephiroth's frown faded at the promise and he nodded.

 

"What's so amusing about that anyway?" Sephiroth enquired curiously. He knew the gunman was a silent man, and it was rare to see him even smile. Vincent almost had the urge to laugh again but cleared his throat.

 

"Because you said it so seriously…and you're pouting."

 

Sephiroth arched a sharp silver brow, "I don't pout."

 

"Yes, you do."

 

"No, I don't."

 

"You are now," Vincent pointed out, his lips twitched into a smile. Realizing he was tricked, Sephiroth narrowed his eyes in an attempt to glare at the ebony-haired man before giving up, huffing as he turned to look elsewhere. Vincent cleared his throat again so he wouldn't break into a grin, afraid it would annoy the swordsman further. "So…breakfast?" Sephiroth watched as the older man took the big china from the tray and stirred the content. His stomach decided to inform them about its obvious empty state with a loud grumble. Sephiroth turned the brightest pink possible when the Vincent stared at him with a mild shock dancing in his crimson eyes. He never felt so embarrassed in his life…and his stomach never complained THAT loud.

 

"It must be really hungry," mused Vincent out loud, his lips curled into an amused smile when the silver-haired man vainly wrapped his arms around his naked stomach. (Never knew The Great Sephiroth could blush…he looks more human now.) He spooned the soup and held it in front of the former general's face, hinting the other man to open his mouth. Sephiroth leaned back slightly, a ghost of frown on his face, "I can feed myself-" 

 

"You're still very weak, let me," Vincent persisted and finally the swordsman permitted the ebony-haired man to feed him. Sephiroth opened his mouth slowly, allowing the spoon to enter and his tongue could detect the rich, milky taste of the mild food as it was spread all over his mouth. He had a feeling that it was the most delicious food he ever had for years. His appetite kicked in and he almost scared Vincent when he hungrily accepted every spoonful the gunman held out.

 

"Do you want more? There's still some left in the kitchen," asked Vincent while he put the bowl on the tray. Sephiroth closed his eyes, relishing the feel of having food in him. "No, I don't think I'll need more anytime soon…" The silver-haired man opened his eyes only to find the former Turk offering him a glass of water, which he accepted quite openly. He wasn't afraid of tarnishing his pride any longer; he had Vincent's word for it. The ebony-haired gunman made sure Sephiroth could grip the glass by himself before he released it, "I will head out to find more supplies. If you need to refresh yourself, the shower is over there. There are clean towels on the rack." Vincent pointed out towards a door at one corner of the room, making sure the catlike, Mako eyes followed his movements. "The water heater works, you just need to give it some time to heat up."

 

"I'll be alright, Vincent," replied the silver-haired swordsman, sipping his water slowly. The former Turk nodded, satisfied to hear the assurance. When Vincent was about to rise, the former general remembered about the weather outside. "Wait," the ebony-haired man saw Sephiroth unbuckled the belt around him, "Wear this. It's cold outside." Vincent hesitated for a while, watching as the silver-haired man held his cape up to him. He could stand the cold but not wanting to start any argument, he accepted the thick cloth the younger man offered. Sephiroth watched unblinkingly as the gunman wrapped the cape around him expertly, his fingers deftly buckled four of the six belts on the cape. After flicking the long, ebony hair behind his neck out of the cape, Vincent turned to look at the man sitting on the bed, "I won't be long."

 

 

~*~

 

 

The water was hot yet soothing, erasing his fatigue and stress as it showered over him, cleansing the white lather off his pale body. He raked his long fingers into the thick, wet, silver strands on his head, massaging his scalp in a slow ritual. After Sephiroth made sure he had rinsed his hair and body, he stretched his arms forward and placed both palms flat against the warm tile as he just stood there under the shower, letting the hot water hit on his form in full force. The warmth it provided him was different, different from another body pressed against him last night. (The heat…)

 

Suddenly Sephiroth felt a painful force slam against his chest, causing him to double over and slump to his knees with a surprised cry. His chest stung like it was stabbed by millions of daggers and his blood felt like it was acid, burning his limbs like a slow poison. Sephiroth gritted his teeth while he did his best to wrap his arms around his torso and curled on the floor. A wave of agony washed over him and the silver-haired man was forced to bite his lower lip from screaming. The pain was followed by nausea in the pit of his stomach so he clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to curb the urge. His stomach churned painfully when bile rose to his throat, his eyes watered at the sickening feeling. After a while of struggling, Sephiroth felt the pain ebb. Panting harshly, the silver-haired man pushed himself up and sat under the hot shower, trying to ease himself from the recent attack.

 

It wasn't long until the pain began again, assaulting his chest and head this time. Sephiroth couldn't bear the pain anymore as he cried out when his chest throbbed. Blood dripped from his nose before he vomited it all over the tile; the hot water mixed and washed the crimson liquid away. Sephiroth held his chest as he vomited again, feeling as if something was stuck inside his chest, torturing him by making it harder for him to breathe. The former general coughed hard before he lurched again, his palms flat on the warm tile as dark blood gushed out of his mouth, along with something else. Sephiroth felt his strength fading; he laid on the tile in exhaustion. The swordsman could barely keep his eyes open as he watched the hot shower washed the blood off. In the pool of blood laid a round sphere. Its size was bigger than any normal materia and it did not reflect any light. Jade eyes widened when Sephiroth finally recognized what it was.

 

"B…black…materia…" His world was spinning before he heard a familiar voice.

 

"Sephiroth?"

 

The said man snapped his head towards the low voice, eyes still wide with shock and pain. He did not hear when Vincent came in. The gunman stood still at the door, an old suitcase fell from his hand while his eyes stared at the silver-haired man, or more precisely, the red temporarily coloring the tile. He also noticed a familiar black orb sitting on the bloody tile, the sight of it filled his heart with dread. Vincent snapped out of his trance when he heard another string of pained coughs from Sephiroth, and the swordsman was already huddled at one corner of the shower. It was what originally made him rush back to the mansion; it panicked him to think the younger man was in some kind of danger.

 

Sephiroth saw Vincent's attention shifted towards him after it was settled on the bloody black orb, his crimson eyes just looked at him with sadness in them. Then Sephiroth realized his state of undress and color rose to his cheeks. He bowed his head and let his long, wet, silver mane obscured his face as well as parts of his body. Sephiroth tensed seeing the older man unfasten the buckle of his cloak and toss it behind him before his right foot stepped into the bathroom. The nearer the ebony-haired gunman came, the harder he tried to merge with the walls. Panic was not something the former general usually felt; he rarely did so, with the title of a great warrior, yet with the presence of someone superior or stronger than him, he did feel a fragment of it. When Vincent was right in front of him, Sephiroth almost lost all hope to escape.

 

"Sephiroth." The silver-haired man jumped when he felt cold, metal fingers on his shoulder. Vincent kneeled in front of him until they were face to face. "You…," he trailed off, his eyes darted towards the bits of blood on the silver-haired man's chin before his finger traced it and wiped it off. Sephiroth never once blinked, confused himself at the gunman's behavior. "Are you feeling alright? Are you hurt?" Sephiroth was too dazed to move, so Vincent took it upon himself to find out. He pried the hair covering the younger man's face to find the jade eyes. Vincent traced his hand over the naked chest, checking if there was any injury there. When he ventured further, Sephiroth suddenly felt very self conscious about his situation and tried to push the other man away. Vincent instantly pulled the younger man into his arms and tried to calm the former general down. He wasn't there as a threat, he was there to aid.

 

"It's alright; I'm just relieved you're unscathed."

 

"B-black…ma…teria…," Sephiroth did not realize he was shaking until he sputtered that out.

 

"It's not going to cause anymore harm," Vincent assured the trembling figure in his arms, mentally reminding him to get the materia out of Sephiroth's sight as soon as possible. "Come; let's get you back to bed." Vincent was prepared to pull the silver-haired man to his feet and Sephiroth blanched, "B-but…"  "What's wrong?" Vincent was confused why the former general would be so paranoid. It's not like anyone would blame him for owning the Black Materia. (There's no anyone else here…except me…)

 

 

~*~

 

 

"Sephiroth." The silver-haired swordsman looked up at the call and he was surprised to feel warm lips pressed against his own. He could see his own reflection in the crimson eyes before they slowly closed. Sephiroth felt a claw dug into his damp hair, raking the long strands down his back before it squeezed his waist slightly. That broke whatever control Sephiroth had as he returned the kiss, his hands shot out and grabbed the gunman's shirt. Vincent groaned in approval and pulled the swordsman closer to him as they both rose. Sephiroth pushed the older man until they both stood under the shower; the hot water soaking their bodies completely. A slick tongue brushed against his lips, begging for entrance and Sephiroth parted his lips as his own joined in the dance. Vincent moaned when their tongue brushed each other and the silver-haired man felt himself growl at the sound, his fingers crawled to weave through the thick, wet, raven hair behind Vincent's neck. Feeling the need of air surpassing their need for the lip lock, the two men reluctantly parted and panted heavily.

 

"Vincent…what…why?" Sephiroth heaved, the pain in his chest decreasing as he managed to swallow more air into his lungs. He did not understand why the older man wanted to be near him. He was a monster, a freak; no one had ever wanted to be near him, moreover kiss him. Vincent held the swordsman's chin and tilted his face up gently. "What is it, Sephiroth?" he asked, worried when he saw the younger man looked flustered. (Did I do anything wrong? Was it wrong that I kissed him?) Vincent frowned slightly. (But he returned it.)

 

Sephiroth gripped the thick fabric of Vincent's shirt tightly, wondering if he should tell the gunman. "I…," he felt Vincent squeeze his waist as if to encourage him but he couldn't bring himself to look at the former Turk's face, afraid of what the gunman would say about it. "That was…my first kiss."

 

Vincent's eyes widened in disbelief but deep down he felt relieved that he did not do anything wrong…unless he was considering stealing the man's first kiss.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

Their eyes met after they spoke the same words in unison. Vincent offered the confused swordsman a comforting smile, brushing a thumb over the moist lips he just kissed so passionately earlier, "I wouldn't know…you're a natural." Sephiroth flushed at the compliment but part of him was proud of it. Vincent tucked a wet strand of silver behind Sephiroth's right ear before he asked, "Do you regret it?"

 

Sephiroth did not know what he felt but it was definitely not regret. He answered by brushing his lips against the other man's, feeling the older man shiver at his touch when his hands ventured south. "It was…special," he admitted, the feeling was bizarre and he liked it, "No one's ever wanted me…in this way…before."

 

Vincent couldn't believe his ears, he pushed the younger man far enough to view his pale, naked torso for his ruby eyes inspection. The silver-haired man was like a marble statue carved with a supreme superior skill, every inch of his features screamed with flawless perfection and ethereal beauty. His silver hair was like a stream of polished silk, caressing and framing his strong body with its gentle glow. His icy clear green eyes twinkled as if there were little stars in them, intense and mesmerizing in their gaze. The skin was smooth to his touch as he traced Sephiroth's throat with a lone finger. (There is no way…not a soul yearned for this body…) Vincent only stopped when the younger man fidgeted uneasily at the attention; his ears were already red in embarrassment. He chuckled lightly and Sephiroth glared at him while a hint of a smile threatened to appear on his usual stoic face.

 

"Embarrassed that someone sees you without pants on?" Vincent grinned when the red on Sephiroth's face turned a few shades darker. He pulled the silver-haired man into his arms again and guided him towards the rack. "Towel," he explained simply when Sephiroth arched his brow at his actions. Supporting the former general with one hand, Vincent snatched a large, white towel from the rack and did his best wrapping the cloth around the younger man's waist with his claw. Seeing Sephiroth hold the towel securely in his hands, Vincent had the urge to tease, "Don't think you can keep it, I will take it off you in a few minutes."

 

Sephiroth made a slightly amused look at the older man's words before his lips curled ferally, "Try as you might, Vincent. I won't give in so easily, you will have to fight for it." As soon as he said that Vincent growled hungrily and attacked his lips, nearly driving them both towards the wall. Sephiroth growled into the kiss, surrendering wasn't his nature. Using the new talent he just learnt he had, the swordsman pushed his tongue into the older man's mouth, tasting the hot cavern with equal vigor. His legs were still wobbly and sometimes he felt the former Turk's hold on him tighten when he nearly tripped over the dusty floor. Somehow they managed to get to the bed without breaking the kiss. Hearing Vincent's sudden hum made Sephiroth open his eyes, and he managed to catch a sly glint in the crimson eyes before he was pushed on the bed.

 

Sephiroth fell on the soft mattress with a groan, surprised at the sudden change of flow. The towel was barely hanging around his waist; it could fall off easily with a soft tug. Before he could recover from the mild impact, the raven-haired man crawled over him, wet, dark bangs carressed the silver-haired man's face as the older man reclaimed his lips. Feeling Vincent's fingers trying to loosen the towel, Sephiroth wriggled underneath him and drew the older man closer. "Aren't you a little overly dressed, Vincent?" He managed to undo the first few buttons of the former Turk's dark suit before the Vincent stopped him.

 

"I…" Vincent did not know how to explain his condition but when he saw the frown forming on Sephiroth's face, he knew it was impossible. He was an ugly beast, a creature far too repulsive to be loved. Surely the swordsman would hate him if he knew. "…I can't…"

 

Sephiroth felt his heart stung from the humiliation. It's a rejection, what else? No one would want a monster; no one could love a monster. He thought he finally had the chance to be human but the gunman turned out to be one of them, the ones who destroyed his hopes. "I knew it…" Sephiroth made a move to get up; he wanted to get away from everything. Vincent saw the pain and fury in his eyes so he tried to stop him.

 

"Sephiroth-"

 

"Don't call my name!" Sephiroth glared at the former Turk, his eyes were too glassy to even notice the sadness in the crimson orbs. He shoved the gunman off him but Vincent easily pushed him back on the bed. The former general snarled and struggled all his might against Vincent's hold but it wasn't enough to throw the gunman off him. Vincent leaned down to whisper into the silver-haired man's ear, "Sephiroth, listen to me-" 

 

"Let me go! I don't need to listen to you or anyone! Let me-!" His breath hitched and he squeezed his eyes shut as a soft gasp left his lips.

 

"Now, will you listen?" Vincent asked, his voice husky. His tongue flicked over the sensitive earlobe, teasing the smooth skin under Sephiroth's ear, rendering the former general helpless under him. The gunman made sure Sephiroth felt his hot breath as he trailed soft kisses down the pale neck. The silver-haired swordsman shuddered and gasped at the alien sensations attacking his body. He had never been treated so before. Finally Vincent succeeded in wrenching a low moan from the swordsman when he sucked on a vein. He nudged a knee between Sephiroth's long legs gently and slowly rubbed his way up. Jade eyes shot open and Sephiroth let out a startled cry at the unfamiliar contact, his body arched up against Vincent's. Long silver hair lay tousled amongst the crumpled sheet as Sephiroth writhed on the bed from Vincent's touch. The ebony-haired man wrapped his claw around the swordsman's waist to support him, watching the naked chest rose and fell rapidly through lust-filled eyes. After a few good thrusts, Sephiroth clawed at Vincent's back as he released.

 

Vincent swore he heard a few rips when the swordsman tugged on his shirt but he did not care about it, his attention was currently aimed on the panting, sweaty body underneath him. Sephiroth's skin was flushed and dampened in sweat; he could feel the delicious heat coming from the man's body. The silver-haired man was indeed untouched as he claimed to be. When Vincent leaned to capture the peach lips again, Sephiroth opened his eyes and his gaze halted the ebony-haired man. "Why?" he inquired shakily, his breath was still erratic from the recent orgasm. "Why are you doing this? If you don't want to, just leave me alone. This…this is too low, even for you…"

 

Vincent frowned, "What?" Then he realized what exactly the silver-haired man meant.  "Sephiroth, are you saying that I'm taking advantage of you?" He felt so disgusted with himself when the whole meaning sunk in. (I made him think no one wants him. He thinks…he's not worthy of being loved…) "You misunderstood me; I did not mean any of that."

 

"Then what is it?" Sephiroth asked; tears of humiliation began to prick in the edge of his eyes, "Tell me! Because I don't understand why you're treating me like this! First you held me like I was about to break at any moment and then you pushed me as if I'm the most nauseating monst-!"

 

"No! You're not the monster! I AM!!!"

 

Silence filled the room after Vincent's outburst. Everything seemed to halt in the dead town. Sephiroth stared at the ebony-haired man in disbelief, he had known the man was almost as calm as a dead lake thus he never expected the man to shout so loud. (He called himself a monster?) Vincent sat with his head hung, not even the swordsman could see his face from his lying position. The gunman's wet, ebony hair hid his face well from the silver-haired man's scrutiny. Water dripped from the wet strands, damping his already soaked clothes and the mattress in silence. Vincent sighed deeply, his shoulders slouched dejectedly.

 

"…Because I'm a monster…" It was all he could whisper because it's the truth. He was. As the deafening silence stretched, he could feel the dread in his heart grew. The silver-haired man hated him. (No one could ever love you. You're only confusing him…just give up.)

 

"…I…apologize…." Vincent did not know anything else to say except apologizing. He couldn't lift his face to look into the jade eyes, afraid that he was going to tarnish their innocence with his sinful appearance. He opened his mouth weakly, "…I'm a monster…a demon… Sephiroth, I am nowhere near your league. You are far different, you are pure…" he whispered softly and looked down, seeing he caught a few silver strands between his fingers, "…innocent…and far more beautiful than I am…" Vincent looked at his golden claw, curling each finger to hear the soft clinks it made and closed his ears, tears of defeat threatened to fall from his eyes.

 

"I'm just hideous."

 

 

~*~

 

 

"Do you think I care?"

 

Vincent barely heard what the Sephiroth said when a hand shot up and grabbed the wrist of his claw. The gunman had no time to react as he was slammed into the bed before the younger man rolled on top of him, straddling his waist and pinning his wrists beside him. Sephiroth gazed down at Vincent's stunned face with a contemplative look; his damp silver tresses framed his face like a graceful waterfall.

 

Sephiroth leaned down so their noses were barely touching each other. "I told you, I know plenty, Vincent. I know who and what you are," he whispered calmly before he rose, jade eyes slowly darted towards the golden claw in his grip. "Is it because of this small, unique appendage, you're pushing me away?" he mused rather humorously before he returned to look at the shocked crimson eyes, "I want to see every inch of your body, Vincent." The gunman swallowed, feeling a little uncomfortable in his tightening pants while he saw the silver-haired man leaned down again, so close until their hot breath mingled with each other's. "Every inch…" Sephiroth whispered sultrily, knowing the effect of his words on the older man. He slowly slid the claw off Vincent's supposedly-malformed left hand, a little anxious of how it would look himself. He placed a palm against Vincent's chest to still him and felt the man's heart thump wildly in his chest. Sephiroth offered his best comforting smile to the former Turk before he tore his eyes from the panicked, ruby orbs to look at the limb.

 

It was deformed, yes, but not as hideous as Vincent had claimed. Instead of soft, human skin color, the skin was deep purple with red veins underneath it. Instead of pink nails, he had long, sharp, black claws on every finger. Sephiroth bet each could slice through flesh like melted butter. Despite the callous appearance, Vincent had the limb well-tended; the skin was smooth and the claws were clean. Sephiroth narrowed his eyes; the hand was more like a human's than a beast's. The skin even felt warmer than he thought it would.

 

"Don't…look at it…please…"

 

The former general turned to look at the Vincent, the ebony-haired man had his face turned away from the sight, eyes closed as if afraid to look at it himself. His brows knotted with worry that the silver-haired man would hate him more for it. However, he was shocked to feel a soft kiss to his malformed palm. His eyes actually bulged when the soft kisses turned into playful licks.

 

"S-Sephiroth?"

 

Sephiroth let Vincent's index finger slipped out of his mouth, licking the saliva hanging from it seductively as he smirked, "Now don't tell me you're chickening out because of this again."

 

Vincent rose from the bed with a roar, flipping the younger man to his back with his inhuman strength and fervently crushed his lips against Sephiroth's. "You…are…precious," the ebony-haired man breathed between their kisses, his tongue against the inner side of the swordsman's mouth. Sephiroth only growled into their heated tongue battle while his hands hastily tried to remove all the fabric covering the gunman's body. He unbuttoned every button of the dark shirt, nearly succeeded in undoing the older man's belts before Vincent grabbed his wrists and pinned them of the bed while his lips moved to attack the pale neck hungrily. Having nothing to close his mouth, Sephiroth gasped sharply when the gunman sucked and bit on his shoulder. With his hands pinned down, he opted for another way to get back to the other man. Sephiroth bent his leg and rubbed his knee against the older man's crotch. Vincent grunted at the contact, his eyes glowed with lust when he saw the younger man's sly smirk. Sephiroth was using his own move against him. Vincent returned the smirk with his own, his lips brushed down towards a pert nipple. Sephiroth jerked at the new sensation and let out a series of low moans as Vincent continued to work that wonderful mouth of his on his right nipple. The former Turk nibbled on the sensitive nub carefully, feeling the younger man's muscles jump at his treatment. Licking the pink flesh lovingly as a momentary good bye, Vincent turned to apply the same treatment on the other one and Sephiroth was left writhing in ecstasy.

 

Feeling he had tortured Sephiroth enough with his chest, Vincent slid lower to the man's abdomen, his soft kisses turned wet and demanding. He traced the taut muscles with his tongue, enjoying the sounds he wrung from the former general's throat with every lick and graze he applied. He dipped his tongue into the swordsman's belly button and that caused Sephiroth to arch his back up with a hiss. Vincent felt a hard nudge against his throat and he smiled evilly. (You're a stubborn one, Sephiroth. I want to hear you scream.)

 

Sephiroth's eyes shot open at the tug on his towel. Before he could react, Vincent tore the thick cloth off him and threw it on the floor behind him. The silver-haired man was breathless which, in turn, rendered him speechless. He saw Vincent's eyes roam over his now exposed body before they settled at the juncture of his thighs. Sephiroth reddened, his first impulse was to cover himself and scramble as far away as possible but Vincent erased that option quickly when their eyes met. The predatory lust within the gunman's eyes was almost terrifying and Sephiroth felt drawn into them as Vincent kept their eye contact while he lowered his head. Sephiroth's breath hitched and the swordsman couldn't help but to think he needed a few extra gulps of air soon enough.

 

"Aaahh!!!"

 

Vincent held on the pale hips as the swordsman bucked under his face. He listened to the other man's haggard breathing with a victorious smile before swirling his tongue to caress the thick organ. "Vincent!" He winced feeling Sephiroth's pale fingers dig into his thick hair, the slightly-long fingernails scraping frantically against his scalp. He willed himself to relax when Sephiroth's grip on his hair slackened and ran his hands on the damp thighs to comfort the former general. Slowly Vincent lowered his head, swallowing more of the hard flesh into his mouth. By the time he reached the hilt, Sephiroth was too dizzy with pleasure to produce any coherent word.

 

"Vin…cent…" His throat and lips felt dry, he could hear his own pulse beating in his ears. The adrenaline rush was different than when he was in battle. His voice was growing hoarse and he couldn't think of anything to say except Vincent's name, the man who introduced him to this whole new experience. Sephiroth lifted his head from the mattress to look at the older man and the sight of a dark head on his groin did little help to his situation. Long, ebony hair spilled around his waist and pooled on his stomach, where the gunman had his hand on, teasing the taut skin with his human fingers. Sephiroth saw Vincent's eyes gleam when they caught his own cloudy, jade orbs and he felt the gunman's mouth turned into a vacuum around him. The silver-haired man's head fell back on the bed with a hoarse cry before his body arched. He felt the gunman's hand roam until his back, slipping down to squeeze the firm flesh of his ass. Vincent heard another string of moans when he began bobbing his head up and down.

 

"Ah…ahh…Vincent!"  Sephiroth felt sweat glide down his now damp skin while his hips moved on its own accord to match the gunman's tempo. How ironic that he did not even sweat while fighting with enemies but he was entirely soaked in his own perspiration while 'battling' with his lover.

 

His lover.

 

The realization hit him hard almost like Vincent's skillful mouth but he was overwhelmed to finally have someone who loved him and wanted him despite who he was. He wanted to thank the man for giving him a chance to be human. Sephiroth wanted to feel him, to hold the body against him and kiss those pale lips he had grown to cherish. Blissful heat gathered in the pit of his stomach and Sephiroth had to bite the sheet to keep from screaming as he reached his completion for the second time.

 

Vincent relaxed his throat and concentrated to swallow the thick liquid flooding his mouth. He was experienced in this so it wasn't hard for him to take the younger man incredible length in his mouth. After the ebony-haired man was sure Sephiroth had finished, he released him and slowly kissed his way up the pale body. The silver-haired man was panting hard and Vincent realized he was gasping himself. Sephiroth had his eyes closed, his chest heaving to regain his breath. A few strands of silver were plastered to his body and Vincent brushed the ones matted on the handsome face gently, laying his palm against the smooth cheek. "Sephiroth…" Pale lids slowly opened and two intense Mako orbs regarded him with darkening lust. Vincent barely felt a pair of hands wrapped around his waist, drawing him closer to the mesmerizing gaze that held his own. Sephiroth licked the gunman's lips before claiming them for a gentle kiss. Vincent closed his eyes and returned the kiss as gently as he could, his hand moved down to grasp the younger man's erection. He wanted to pleasure the silver-haired man as best as possible.

 

Sephiroth tore away from their kiss with a soft groan. "No…stop." Vincent stopped his strokes and looked at the silver-haired swordsman with confusion in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

 

Sephiroth tugged on the older man's dark suit, hating the thick material's unneeded presence because it prevented him from seeing his lover's true form, "You're not being fair, Vincent. I want to see you. Let me see you…" Begging never suited the legendary warrior and Vincent knew this, diving to give the man a soft peck to stop him. "You don't have to say please to me, Sephiroth. Your wish is my command." On any other day, Vincent would have laughed himself silly at how hopelessly romantic he sounded just now but today was undoubtedly special. The usually cold, silent Vincent Valentine who cared nothing about the world did not presently have a sexy silver-haired man underneath him. Sephiroth had revived that part of his dead heart and he realized the first time their lips met, he was in love again.

 

With Sephiroth. His lover's son.

 

Maybe he was fated not to be with Lucrecia but her son. He was the only one able to understand the former Turk after the many experiments and deformation he endured. Lucrecia hated him for being an assassin, but Sephiroth understood and accepted him for who he was before, now and perhaps in the future too. (I will stay with him as long as I'm needed because I love him, I don't need any other reason…)

 

Sephiroth watched Vincent's eyes dim with tender emotions, a soft smile played on his lips as the man pushed himself up into a sitting position. His right hand reached up behind his head and undid the thick, red dressing around his head. When the cloth was undone, he tossed it on the floor and raked his free hand through the thick, ebony hair to tame it. Sephiroth felt a chuckle rise in his throat and he let some of it slip out. Vincent stared down at the silver-haired man when he felt the vibration from the body underneath him and arched a single brow questioningly at the swordsman's amused smile.

 

"Are you giving me a striptease, dear Vincent?"

 

The former Turk laughed lightly, now knowing the truth from the other man's position. He leaned down and nuzzled the crook of Sephiroth's neck lovingly that earned himself a soft sigh before rising again. "If you like it, I can do it for you." Sephiroth smiled deviously, his eyes shone with barely curbed desire. "Later. I want you now," he slipped his fingers into the gunman's pants and tugged it down to indicate his urgency. Vincent growled in agreement, shrugging the already unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders and threw it behind him. He pulled the belts off his waist and let it fall on the floor, now struggling with his pants. It had grown too tight after a while. Sephiroth felt his lips curl into an amused smile when he heard Vincent curse under his breath for his stubborn pants to move.

 

Vincent sighed frustratingly, "Amusing, huh?" The silver-haired man chuckled again and the gunman decided that he loved the rich, soft sound coming from the swordsman's mouth. "Very entertaining," Sephiroth admitted wholeheartedly, his smile widened into a grin when the ebony-haired man rolled his eyes.

 

Vincent saw two pale hands reached out to him and grasped his hips. He did not know when Sephiroth had pushed himself up, seeing the younger man's silver head in front of his stomach. He gasped feeling a slick tongue snaked on his stomach, lapping at the skin around his belly button before dipping into it. "Uhh…Sephiroth…" The swordsman only answered him with a low hum, the vibration from his mouth made the former Turk moan. Vincent stroked the thick, silver mane as encouragement, allowing the younger man to lower him on the bed. Once his back was settled on the bed, Sephiroth crawled over him predatorily.

 

"I'll take care of it from now," he whispered, fingers sliding under the tight leather pants. Vincent swallowed tightly and let the silver-haired man pulled the stubborn cloth down. He lifted his hip and Sephiroth pulled the pants completely off his legs. Discarding the soft leather on the floor, the swordsman drank upon the sight of Vincent's naked form hungrily. Vincent wasn't as shy as Sephiroth; he did not mind being fully exposed as long as he consented it. Vincent nearly laughed seeing color rise on the younger man's pale face as those mesmerizing, jade orbs eyes fell on his crotch. He pulled the swordsman to his face; he shivered and heard Sephiroth grunted when their skins contacted each other for the first time. Vincent smiled softly, stroking the flushed cheeks with the back of his fingers. "Like what you see?" he whispered into the other man's ear teasingly.

 

Sephiroth chuckled nervously; it was obvious that this whole thing was new to him. Part of Vincent felt sorry that the man had lived a secluded life all these years yet part of him felt grateful that he was given the honor to teach the silver-haired man about love. Vincent ran his hands through Sephiroth's silky hair, raking the silver tresses to the back of his head with utmost care, pampering his lover with his undivided affection.

 

"Sephiroth?" Vincent realized he could never get tired of staring at those catlike jade eyes.

 

"Hmm?" Sephiroth drew closer, teasing the gunman's lips with his lazily.

 

"I love you."

 

Jade eyes seemed to stare at him unblinkingly for a while in total silence. Vincent held those magnificent eyes confidently, he would only speak the truth and the truth was; he loved this man. "I love you," he repeated with the same determination in his eyes as he said it before. He saw the jade eyes grew glassy and a soft smile grew on Sephiroth's lips.

 

"Vincent, you're an idiot," Sephiroth chuckled lightly; he couldn't believe that he could produce such sound, "But I'm glad you felt the same way as I do." He kissed the gunman's lips passionately, feeling the older man contributed in the activity. Sephiroth never thought he would enjoy kissing someone so thoroughly before yet now he felt that he needed it every second to feel truly alive. As they slowly parted, Sephiroth nuzzled the ebony-haired man's neck in content, "I love you, Vincent Valentine."

 

 

~*~

 

 

No words could describe the joy he felt. Vincent placed a soft kiss on top of the silver head, raking the damp tresses to gain access to more skin. He kissed the younger man's temples, cheeks, jaws, nose, chin and then lips. Sephiroth sighed in content as their lips met; his hands traced the curves of the older man's body fondly, trying to memorize every shape and contour. When they parted, Sephiroth kissed the gunman's jaws and neck, licking his way down to the man's throat. Vincent closed his eyes and bared his neck for the former general, feeling the soft nips travel to his shoulder. He relaxed his body and let the silver-haired man have his fun, he trusted Sephiroth. Vincent heard himself moan when the Sephiroth licked on his left nipple. "You're a fast learner," he choked out, gasping when the silver-haired man applied more pressure on the sensitive flesh.

 

Sephiroth smiled against his chest, "I was taught…" he nipped the nub and watched Vincent arched in pleasure, "…not to learn…" his hand crawled its way down the gunman's form, "…but improvise," he finished, sucking the pink nub as his hand reached its target, which caused Vincent to arch on the bed, his mouth gaped to let out a long, loud moan. Sephiroth mentally complimented himself at his immediate victory as he continued to squeeze Vincent's erection in his hand. The silver-haired made sure he was being gentle though, he wanted to return the kindness Vincent extended to him. The ebony-haired gunman could have easily taken advantage of his naivety yet Vincent maintained his dignity and taught Sephiroth how to share the pleasure.

 

"Aah…Sephiroth…" Vincent struggled to regain his breath, swallowing large gulps of air into his lungs as he bucked into the younger man's hand, rubbing himself against the muscular body above him. Sephiroth groaned at the tantalizing friction and added the pressure to his hand, causing Vincent's moan to grow louder. The former Turk's eyes flashed bright red before he grabbed Sephiroth's butt cheeks, causing the swordsman to jerk his face up and Vincent took advantage of the parted lips, pulling the younger man into a hungry kiss. Sephiroth was stunned at the sudden turn but he liked surprises, diving in for more. He quickened his pumping and the older man tore away, gasping to breathe. Seeing this opportunity, the former general slid his body down to the gunman's crotch. He observed his achievement proudly, running a wet thumb over the swollen head. Watching Vincent arch at the blissful sensation was enough encouragement for Sephiroth to slip a slippery finger into his mouth, tasting the older man's essence.

 

"Stop teasing." Sephiroth looked up and realized Vincent had been watching him all along. Smirking, the former general sucked on his finger while keeping his eyes on the ebony-haired man, seeing those enchanting blood red orbs darkened with lust when he drew the finger out clean.

 

Vincent swore he was about to burst when he saw the silver-haired man lick his fingers seductively. Being desirable was Sephiroth's natural talent, he mused with envy. The gunman had to hold himself from thrusting up when Sephiroth slithered his tongue out to lick him, reminding himself that the younger man was still inexperienced in lovemaking. "Sephiroth," he licked his dry lips before continuing, "You don't have to take me whole. I understand that this is your first time, don't push yourself too ha-aaaghh!" Vincent squeezed his eyes shut and tried his best to hold himself. (Hold it, Vincent. You need to hold yourself. He's just a child. He's just starting.) The former Turk moaned, moving his hips to get more friction. (Gods, he definitely knows what he's doing.)    

 

"Don't worry, Vincent," Sephiroth gave the heavy balls a firm squeeze, watching the older man's twitch of pleasure as his other hand moved to fondle with the leaking arousal. He still had a taste of the gunman on his tongue but he wanted more. Opening his mouth, he made sure Vincent was watching him before he sucked the gunman in slowly, almost agonizingly slow. Vincent inhaled sharply before he let out a strangled cry, not believing how talented the other man was.

 

"Sephiroth!" The former general sunk deeper and felt the tip of the hard flesh poke his throat. He forced himself to relax so he wouldn't choke, caressing the underside of the hard length with his tongue and teeth. Vincent hissed, nearly losing control as sweat glided down his skin. He wouldn't be able to hold on much longer with all the pleasure bombarding his senses. He needed to warn the former general "S-Sephiroth…I'm going to…uhh!"

 

Hearing the ebony-haired man's warning, Sephiroth began sucking relentlessly, forcing the older man to the edge. Vincent fell on the bed and gave a hard buck, shoving himself into the hot mouth as he exploded with a throaty scream.

 

 

~*~

 

 

Sephiroth licked his lips in satisfaction, savoring Vincent's musky taste like a succulent cream. Vincent was panting hard beneath him; the former Turk was still in a daze at the incredible orgasm Sephiroth had just given him. A dark shadow loomed over him and he was met with a pair of concerned, jade eyes.

 

"Vincent? Are you okay?"

 

The gunman nodded weakly, too bewildered to trust his own voice. After his heartbeat had calmed down, he swallowed, "Sephiroth, I'm…I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't hold. Did I hurt you?" He cringed at the thought of hurting the other man. The former Turk felt damp palms cup his cheeks gently, "Vincent, I wanted it. You did not hurt me." Vincent let the silver-haired man peck his lips before he wrapped his arms around the man's neck. "Don't let me hurt you, Sephiroth. If I did anything you don't like, tell me and I won't do it again, okay?" he whispered, embracing the younger man against him. He could feel Sephiroth smile against his neck, "I promise, Vincent." The former Turk merely nodded and pulled the other man's waist down, pressing their crotches together as their husky moans echoed each others when their erections rubbed against one another. He felt Sephiroth bite on his shoulder to stop himself from crying out but the pain was barely noticeable with the waves of pleasure they shared. He enjoyed seeing the former general throw his head back, baring his long, pale neck as he moaned when the ebony-haired gunman bucked his hips, thrusting against the younger swordsman.

 

When it was getting too painful to ignore the urges, Sephiroth pushed himself up until he hovered just a few inches above the older man and stared straight to into the crimson eyes. No words needed to be said as their gaze spoke thousands of meanings. Vincent gave his lover a gentle kiss, stroking the handsome face with passionate eyes. "You're hurt enough. I don't want to add into your pain. I want you to take me, Sephiroth."

 

Sephiroth was slightly amazed at Vincent's trust on him. He was totally inexperience in this and he could jeopardize everything. At Vincent's consoling nod, he smiled and nodded gratefully, mouthing 'I love you' before he brought his fingers to trace the swollen lips. Vincent took the swordsman's hand and kissed the slick fingers before gently guiding three of them into his mouth. Sephiroth moaned softly when Vincent's slick tongue teasingly brushed against his long digits.

 

After Vincent had lathered the fingers enough, the gunman brought the silver-man's hand down his body. Vincent spread his legs apart and guided a slick finger to his entrance. He barely felt the intrusion of the lone finger so he decided to push another one, all the while keeping his eyes on Sephiroth's face. The silver-haired man had his eyes closed, a streak of blush was apparent across the bridge of his nose.

 

"Push your way in…probe deeper, Sephiroth." The former general blushed redder at the rousing orders yet obeyed Vincent's directions, doing exactly as the gunman told him. Vincent moaned and arched slightly, "Scissors your fingers…now push the third one in-ahh…good…" Vincent wrapped his arms around the former general's shoulders to support himself as he jerked up every now and then as younger man probed deeper. When the tips of the Sephiroth's fingers brushed against his sweet spot, white sparks burst in Vincent's eyes as he screamed and rode the plunging fingers. By the time the former general jabbed four fingers inside him, Vincent was writing with need.

 

"Sephiroth…please! I need you now!"

 

The silver-haired man realized he too was in desperate need of another contact. He positioned himself between the gunman's legs, making himself comfortable for the next move. "Vincent, I-" 

 

"I believe in you," ruby eyes gazed at Sephiroth with complete trust. The swordsman so far had showed him more of his true nature than he could ever imagine. Vincent never knew Sephiroth could be so passionate, devoted and considerate to his lover. He could feel the younger man push into his tight ring muscle slowly not to hurt him. Vincent had prepared himself for the intrusion, knowing very well about the younger man's size and thickness. The former Turk gasped out loud, moaning his encouragement and wriggled his hips as the silver-haired man continued to sink into him. It had been a long time since he last made love with someone else with him being the submissive one, so Vincent had to bite his lower lip when he was forced to stretch more than he could bear. He could hear Sephiroth grunt beside his right ear, panting softly as he fully sheathed himself inside the gunman's body.

 

The delicious heat engulfing him was blissfully pleasant. Sephiroth had to regain his breath for fear of blacking out from the pleasure. When Vincent wiped the sweat from his forehead, he leaned into the touch. "You're so tight," the former general choked out.

 

"It's not my first time so don't worry about hurting me," Vincent admitted lowly, "You are being very gentle, Sephiroth. The gentlest lover I've ever had." Catlike jade eyes dimmed after hearing what the gunman said. His pale fingers ran on the gunman's sides, appreciating the beauty of his lover's writing form before they settled on the slender hips, gripping firmly. Taking this as a cue, Vincent wrapped his legs around the lean waist, the sheet tight in his grip. Sephiroth watched the crimson eyes closed calmly before he began moving, slowly pulling out before sliding in into the heat. After the first friction, both men groaned at the pleasure they felt coursing through their bodies. Sephiroth placed his palms on the mattress, gripping the sheet as he kept moving, thrusting into the older man. Vincent pushed himself up to meet the silver-haired man's thrusts, moaning endlessly. He threw his head back with a hoarse cry, arching from the bed when the former general hit his prostate. That seemed to trigger something within Sephiroth as the swordsman growled, keeping that angle as he moved faster, slamming into Vincent in a wild pace.

 

Vincent roared in pleasure, his eyes burnt bright as he ground against Sephiroth, almost causing the younger man to lose his breath and balance. The swordsman squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the older man's erection brush against his abdomen. The gunman clawed at his back and he hissed when Vincent dug his sharp claw into his shoulder. Sephiroth dove to capture the ebony-haired man's parted lips to stop himself from screaming, not wanting to spoil the moment they were sharing. Vincent viciously sucked on the probing tongue, bucking his hips desperately for more contact before he climaxed, shooting his semen all over their bellies.

 

The wet warmth spilled between them only added to the encouragement for Sephiroth after the older man's tight walls contracted around him, squeezing him rather painfully. The silver-haired man grunted, giving a few extra thrusts before he shoved as far as he could go, filling Vincent with his essence and a throaty groan. Sephiroth slumped forward until his forehead rested against his lover's sweaty chest, gasping in exhaustion. Their lovemaking was wild and rabid; it had taken all of his stamina and strength, even if he was dubbed as the most powerful man on the planet.

 

Vincent unhooked his legs from the younger man's waist tiredly, letting them fall on the soft mattress. He could barely keep his eyes open to look at the top of his lover's head. With his remaining strength, Vincent pushed the swordsman beside him and felt the man slide out of him slowly. Sephiroth groaned softly at the change of position, too tired to say anything else before he pulled Vincent into another soft kiss.

 

"That…was…amazing."

 

The ebony-haired gunman smiled and ran a hand through Sephiroth's thick, wet mane. He remembered how he clawed on the man's back and grabbed a Cure materia from his gun to fix the problem. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly, caressing the now-healed scratch marks.

 

Sephiroth shrugged minutely, snuggling closer towards the former Turk like a lazy, contented cat. "Sore."

 

Vincent chuckled lightly before he wrapped his arms around the younger man. "I think I know how you feel."

 

"Vincent," he looked at the peering jade eyes, "Thank you."

 

The gunman smiled and rubbed their noses affectionately, "Don't thank me, Sephiroth. You've given me more than I could dream of." A silver brow rose in a silent query as Sephiroth watched Vincent play with his silver hair with his human fingers.

 

"You reminded me how it felt to be human."

 

Sephiroth stared at the crimson orbs contemplatively before his lips twitched into a smile, almost as if he was struggling not to laugh. "What is it?" Vincent asked in confusion but the silver-haired former general merely shook his head. A little annoyed at the swordsman's reluctance, the former Turk chose to use the knowledge he just acquired from their heated activity. Sephiroth let out a sound similar to a startled yelp, rolling to his back to avoid the tickling fingers to his spine.

 

"Don't do that!" he breathed, the touch still tingling on his sensitive, damp skin.

 

Vincent crawled on top of him and nuzzled his neck fondly, "Tell me then…or do I have to beg for it?" From the way those jade eyes shone, he knew Sephiroth was really considering the options.

 

Sephiroth smiled, although he was tempted about the offer, he would wait until they both had enough rest first. No one knew how things could turn out from such a simple word. "Alright, you win," he would always remember this day where he surrendered so easily. He pushed himself up on his elbows, looking at the pile of clothes on the floor. Vincent followed suit, looking at the clothes scattered on the floor in puzzlement. "What…?" He saw a tiny, green light under his shirt and upon closer inspection, saw that it was his PHS.

 

It was on.

 

"It was on since your outburst, probably that's why you did not realize it," provided the silver-haired swordsman, amazed at the multiple reactions flashing on the Vincent's face in a short period.

 

 

~*~

 

 

 "Oh my God…"

 

 "You've been saying the same words since the past 5 minutes, Reeve," said Tifa nervously, shaking the dark-haired man out of his shock. Cid choked on his cigarette, wiping the tears out of his red eyes as he continued to gape at the PHS on Reeve's table. "They were at it THAT long!?"

 

Barret rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "Ergh, did not think it'd turn that way. So…are we still gonna ask if Vince's gonna help us?"

 

"…I…don't think so…" answered Cloud, he was still in a dazed state. He did not believe Sephiroth was still alive and Vincent was taking care of him.

 

Yuffie jumped excitedly, a dark blush coloring her cheeks as she covered them with her palms. "They sound HOT! Ohmaigawd! Vinny's got a boyfriend!" The shinobi pranced around the room before she stopped in front of Cloud. "Cloud? Are you okay? Your face looks red."

 

The blond swordsman smiled nervously, "Uhh…Reeve, do you know someplace to change around here?"

 

"Yeah, count me in too; I need to change my pants." Everyone's eyes seemed to bulge at Cid's blunt statement. His blond partner could only grow redder.

 

"I did not need to know that," said Tifa a her face burnt crimson, looking at her two friends in disbelief.

 

"To the left at the end of the hall, this floor," Reeve instructed calmly, or seemed to be so. His fingers were tapping on the hard wood of his table and he only did it when something disturbed him. The two blonds walked briskly into the hall, unbelievably followed by Barret.

"Barret!?"

 

"Uhh…sorry, Tifa. I gotta go, it's getting uncomfortable in here, ya know?" at that, the dark man disappeared into the hall. Tifa could only stare at the empty hallway in disbelief. "Men. Too easy." She turned towards Reeve, who jolted in surprise at the sudden attention.

 

"Reeve?"

 

"Hmm?" The dark-haired man opted to just smile at the martial artist, partially glad that he was sitting behind the table but that caused the wine-colored eyes to regard him dubiously. The dark-haired woman stepped closer to his table and he squirmed a little, clearing his throat at the never-ending stare. Finally Tifa threw her hands above her head in desperation. "I can't believe this!"

 

"Red? Are you okay?" Yuffie squatted beside the fiery beast, patting his furry head amiably.

 

"Dead kittens…"

 

"Huh?"

 

"Dirt, sunset, stale bread, rocks, squashed spiders, red meat……uh, that's not good."

 

"Hey, Red. What are you talking about?" asked the shinobi, not understanding why Red mumbled those random things to himself.

 

Red looked at her with a straight face, "Don't mind me, Yuffie. I'm trying to think I'm not actually here." He then turned back to stare at the wall, "I'm not here… I'm not here…" The young shinobi was about to ask again when she noticed something that made her shriek.

 

"Eeeww!! Red soiled the carpet!"

 

 

~*~

 

 

"Is that really necessary?"

 

Vincent turned to look at the bed, Death Penalty still smoking in his hand. "I never think I'm going to need it anyway." He placed the gun on the bedside table, moving to sit on the bedside. He felt a hand finger the black strands behind his back and he instinctively leaned into the touch.

 

"I don't know…maybe you'll need it," Sephiroth tried to reason, staring at the shattered communication device, "I can be hard to handle sometimes."

 

Vincent smiled to himself. "So I learned. I'll take my chances."

 

Sephiroth lay on his side, supporting his head in one hand while tracing his fingers along the older man's spine. "Quite a view you gave just now. Are you trying to turn me on?"

 

"Actually," Vincent spun to face the silver-haired man; his eyes narrowed critically, "I think you are trying to turn me on. Like now," his eyes scanned the younger man's alluring pose eagerly. Sephiroth chuckled lightly, settling himself comfortably on the bed as he pulled the sheet to his waist. "Later, Vincent. We need rest."

 

The gunman arched his brow in amusement, "Already covering up? By the way, are you hungry? It's nearly lunchtime, I better prepare something." An arm snaked around his waist to pull him close as glowing, catlike eyes looked at him intensely.

 

"I already had my lunch."

 

The black materia laid at one corner of the cold, white tile, completely ignored.