At least he's hot

Chapter 10 - Going Down

*Warning* I.V. drugs, mild violence, cock sucking and general insanity. Enjoy!


Sephiroth was shaking like a leaf. Somehow he had ended up in Hojo’s lab, although he couldn’t remember how he had gotten there. Had he taken the elevator? Had he run down the stairs? Had he hacked and slashed his way through the floors like a madman, frothing at the mouth and ranting about the end of the world?

These were all possibilities. After seeing Rufus and Reno fucking up a storm, his brain had shut down completely. The tinge of red in his vision had blown up to a full crimson apocalypse, accompanied by a searing migraine and a mental black out. He had totally lost it.

Now here he was, standing in Hojo’s lab. The rooms were dark and empty… apparently the lucky bastard had taken the day off. No one was here except for a couple of mutated animals, stirring restlessly in their cages. The air smelled particularly foul; a potent reek of urine and shit overpowered the usual stench of antiseptic.

He wandered through the rooms like a ghost, trying to remember how he had gotten there. He ruled out the ‘hacking and slashing’ possibility first, because he would have been found out by now. ShinRa’s security was tight, and there was no way a massacre would have taken place unnoticed. So he had probably run down the stairs, hell-bent on Hojo’s demise, pissed off past the point of coherent thought. He surmised that by the time he got here the shock had worn off, and his thoughts had reluctantly returned to his twisted brain.

Hojo’s repulsive laboratory was especially eerie in the darkness. The only light was the diffuse, green glow of machinery and computer monitors. The strange jars and tanks scattered around were hidden in shadow, leaving Sephiroth to morbidly guess their contents. Brains, livers, spines? There was one tank in a corner the perfect width and length to contain a human being, and for a chilling moment he thought he saw himself floating in the murky waters. He realized he was afraid.

He found himself gravitating towards Hojo’s medicine supply, a large, stainless-steel shelf stocked with vials, flasks, bottles and syringes. He immediately recognized one vial as being the sedative he had used to render Reno unconscious the other night… a powerful concoction of chlorpromazine, morphine and a couple of other complex ingredients. The drug was typically used to calm down hysterical patients in mental wards – he knew this because a lot of his own soldiers had gone absolutely mad after witnessing all the gore on the battlefield. It had actually been used on him before, too. No one came back from WuTai completely sane.

Coerced by the crimson migraine still throbbing behind his eyes, he removed the vial from the shelf and prepared himself a dose. He had seen it done numerous times… take the syringe, stick it in the vial, draw up the liquid. It wasn’t rocket science. He actually loathed putting any foreign substance in his bloodstream, (his drugs of choice had always been alcohol and violence) but for some reason, it just seemed like the right thing to do. Doctors had told him all his life to take this shit when he was angry… perhaps there was some logic behind it. He flicked the syringe and pushed out the bubbles, looking closely at the clear liquid. I can’t believe such a small amount of this shit put Reno to sleep, he mused. It took a lot more to knock his own ass out – yet another side effect of being a Mako-mutated super soldier.

With slightly shaking hands, he stuck the point in his arm, watched the dark plume of blood curl into the syringe, and pushed in the plunger. It was a simple, unceremonious act, nothing like the glorified version seen in the media. He felt the drug come on as soon as he had injected it, a warm, welcome flood of pinpricks. It spread up his arm, through his spine, and finally into his aching, hysterical brain. All at once, the redness, migraine, and pent up rage lifted up out of his body like an exorcism. He sighed with relief and looked around the room with new, unclouded eyes. Why didn’t I do that five days ago? he wondered, stunned with mute disbelief that the madness was really gone. However, that was the purpose of the drug, wasn’t it?

He was almost reluctant to acknowledge how much better he felt. After a few minutes of leaning against the metal examining table, he stuffed the vial and a couple of clean syringes in his pocket. Maybe another dose will put me to sleep tonight, he justified. Anything to avoid that red haze of madness from returning. Eager to get the hell out of Headquarters, he left the lab and drifted toward the elevator. He usually took the stairs, but he was suddenly way too exhausted to even think about running down fifty more flights. So he pressed the ‘down’ button and waited for the bell, leaning against the wall. Maybe I’ll actually go back to work tomorrow… he mused dreamily as he waited. He had put Zack in charge of training the fresh batch of new recruits in his absence, including that little jail bait, Cloud. While Zack was enthusiastic enough, he just wasn’t too good with discipline. Sephiroth grimaced to imagine the ‘innovative’ teaching methods the 1st class soldier was deploying on the poor recruits. Yoga? Meditation? It made him want to hurl.

Whatever. It wouldn’t take Sephiroth long to get them in shape – while most soldiers hated him for being so strict, they did learn how to be efficient fighters. War was about discipline and respect, not friendship. Sephiroth would know… he had been in the army since he was twelve. He didn’t become General by goofing off and telling jokes.

It hadn’t been easy… his white hair and feminine features hadn’t exactly been helpful in climbing the testosterone-laced ladder of the military ranks. Before he reached maturity, he had looked and sounded like a girl… kind of like Cloud.

He wished Cloud was eighteen. Damn statutory rape. He found it ridiculous that someone under eighteen was allowed to commit mass murder, yet couldn’t legally fuck.

The automated sound of the elevator’s bell snapped Sephiroth’s eyes open. Was I sleeping? he marveled, wiping a little drool off the corner of his mouth. He stretched and yawned, watching the metal doors slide apart with heavy-lidded eyes.

* * *

Rufus was fucking wasted. With every lurch of the elevator he lost his balance and became dangerously close to hurling.

After finding the secretary’s corpse, he had spent at least half an hour drinking shots and fretting around the office, wondering what the hell he was going to do… luckily Tseng, a seasoned expert in the art of murder and cover-ups, had come to the rescue and disposed of the body. He reported it as a seizure, although in reality her neck had been snapped and her tongue had been neatly sliced out and shoved down her throat. The diagnosis - cold, senseless murder. If the body wasn’t proof enough, the act was caught on the security cameras. Sephiroth had killed her in a matter of seconds, so quickly that Tseng had to run it back in slow-mo to see it. The General had walked out Rufus’ door, sauntered up behind her and snapped her neck with one quick motion. Luckily, Rufus had been spared from witnessing the cutting-out-the-tongue part, as the camera angle made it appear as though he was merely bending over her like a lover stealing a kiss. Rufus wasn’t sure which act made him sicker.

Yes, Sephiroth had killed his secretary. Rufus almost wanted to rat the psycho out, but that would wind up being more trouble than it was worth. He’d rather cover it up than have swarms of media asking him what had made Sephiroth so mad. ‘Oh, uh… I was just fucking an associate up the ass. That’s all. What’s so weird about that?’

Now the secretary’s corpse was smoldering in the garbage incinerator. So it goes.

He nearly fell to the floor as the elevator jerked to an abrupt halt, stopping on Hojo’s floor – no doubt to pick up some white-coated douche bag from the lab. He clutched the railing to steady himself and smoothed back his hair in a feeble attempt to look sober. He wished he had a breath mint. Whoever it was, he hoped they’d leave him the hell alone. He was in no mood for small talk. As the metal doors slid open he closed one eye to condense his blurry double vision.

* * *

It took Sephiroth a couple of seconds to adjust his eyes to the dim light of the elevator, so it really wasn’t until the doors closed that he noticed Rufus cowering in the corner. He had actually smelled the Vice President before seeing him – the small space reeked with the sour stench of bourbon. Breathing heavily and clutching the rail behind him for dear life, Rufus looked even drunker than he had that night at the bar. He was fucking hammered.

Surprisingly, Sephiroth found that he wasn’t even startled by the VP’s dubious presence. It’s got to be the drugs, he pondered as he pressed the already-lit ground floor button and leaned aloofly against the opposite wall. He crossed his arms and examined the drunk little blond. The VP was shaking visibly and his delicate, boyish features were scrunched up in an indecisive combination of hatred and fear, as if he wasn’t quite sure yet whether to be afraid or indignant. Sephiroth rolled his eyes and averted his gaze to the window overlooking the city. He had no desire to argue with Rufus, nor make any move to patch up their sorry excuse for a relationship. He just wanted to go home.

The elevator lurched into motion, causing Rufus to stumble drunkenly and clutch the railing with renewed vigor. Sephiroth ignored the sorry excuse for a VP and focused instead on the iridescent green glow of Midgar, rising up under him like an aquatic ruin. The view from ShinRa Headquarters was breathtaking – the building was by far the tallest in the city – and always made Sephiroth feel a mixture of awe and disgust... how could something so pretty be such a hive of murder and filth? Tonight, the hypnotic green glow seemed to taunt him like a cruel joke, a mocking symbol of man’s inner evil. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall, suddenly wishing he had taken the stairs.

For several floors the small elevator was dead silent, save the low humming of machinery and hollow echoes reverberating from the vast metal tunnel through which they descended. Sephiroth found himself nodding off, drifting between consciousness and weightless dreams. He nearly forgot Rufus was there… he might as well have been on another planet.

“You killed my secretary.”

Sephiroth reluctantly opened his eyes to discover Rufus glaring intently at him, squinting slightly. “What?” he said.

“You killed my secretary,” Rufus repeated vehemently. “You snapped her fucking neck.”

Sephiroth sighed tiredly. Why was Rufus even talking to him? He vaguely remembered being annoyed by the pug-faced woman… he remembered leaving the office, walking up behind her, then… uh… oh, that’s right. He smiled despite himself.

“Yeah, so maybe I killed her,” he confessed. “So what? She was fucking heinous.”

Rufus looked like he was gong to explode. His sweaty face turned bright red, his glassy eyes became feverish. “So what?” he repeated. “SO WHAT?!?”

“Yeah, so what. That’s what I said, isn’t it? Are you deaf? What the hell is your problem?” Sephiroth felt the first twinges of anger festering in the back of his head. Why hadn’t he just taken the stairs?

“My problem?” Rufus squealed. “You’re the one with a problem! If I hadn’t busted my ass covering it up, you’d be locked up for murder!” The VP was huffing loudly, drunkenly, swaying slightly. He reminded Sephiroth of an animal that had been shot with a tranquilizer dart.

“Yeah, well, if you hadn’t fucked Reno up the ass then she’d still be living,” he sneered. “So just shut the fuck up, will you? You’re giving me a headache.” He sighed again and turned his head once more to look out the window. Even the hedonistic glow of Midgar was more welcoming than Rufus’ obnoxious presence. The last thing he wanted was to become angry again, and Rufus was pushing him.

Silence again, save for Rufus’ loud huffing. 41, 40, 39… it seemed as if the elevator would never reach the ground floor. Sephiroth closed his eyes and tried to think peaceful thoughts. Chocobos, green fields, blue skies… shit like that.

Suddenly Rufus pushed himself off the wall and briskly staggered over to Sephiroth, reeking of bourbon and cologne. Sephiroth regarded the little blonde through heavy-lidded eyes with a mixture of annoyance and confusion. “What the hell is it now?” he mumbled.

Rufus’ eyes narrowed. He looked like he was about to cry. Then he slapped Sephiroth, hard, across the face. The surprising force of the slap snapped his head to the side, and immediately he tasted blood, bitter and metallic. His ears rang. He saw stars. For a couple of seconds, he was so shocked he couldn’t even register what had happened. Then, without the slightest warning, the full force of rabid madness flooded back into his brain with a vengeance, bright red and searing hot. Red, blood red, burned like hellfire in his head and in his eyes. The calming effect of the drug meekly dwindled away, overpowered by raging adrenaline.

Rufus shrunk back, almost certainly regretting his brash action. He squeaked something in apology but Sephiroth didn’t hear it through the loud hum of rage that pounded like a war drum in his ears. Nothing the VP might have said or done at that point could have possibly redeemed him. It was simply too late. No one in their right mind laid a hand on Sephiroth. And a bitch slap? It was suicide.

“You fucking whore,” Sephiroth hissed through clenched teeth. “You think you can treat me like one of your fucking fan boys? You lure me into your bed, you lie to get attention, you send me flowers, then you turn around and fuck Reno behind my back?” He let out a deep sigh in a desperate attempt to calm himself, as the red behind his eyes was so thick he could barely see. “And then – then – you fucking slap me like I’m some kind of bitch?!?” Before Rufus could even whimper, Sephiroth grabbed his narrow wrists and easily twisted them above his head with one hand, pinning them against the wall behind him. “I didn’t even realize I had a heart until you fucking demolished it,” he snarled. He squeezed the blonde’s neck with his free hand, tightening his fingers around his delicate throat until the VP’s heavy, drunken breathing quickened to strangled gasps. He leaned in close, glaring into the wet, water-blue eyes, wondering whether or not he should just kill the bitch here and now… and pay the consequences later.

No one had ever treated him so badly. The few men he had been close enough with to call a partner had never had the balls to say so much as a harsh word against him. No one had ever dared to break his heart. Even his loathing of Hojo was belittled before this wrenching pain that seemed to sink like a stone in his gut. He was humiliated, empty, stricken, and that slap just seemed to exacerbate it- like Rufus was rubbing it in his face.

Rufus trembled weakly, squirming and gasping. “You – you can’t do this,” he choked thickly, tears streaming down his flushed face. His wide eyes swung wildly around the small room, then settled on a space behind Sephiroth’s head. “Th – the camera,” he stuttered desperately. “You can’t hurt me – it’s g-gonna get caught on the video camera.”

Sephiroth followed Rufus’ gaze to the spot on the ceiling where a security camera was perched, then widened his eyes in mock terror. “Why, you’re right, Rufus!” he gasped. “Whatever shall I do?” He sighed pensively, watching the VP squirm and shudder with distracted interest. “Ah, I’ve got it,” he finally said, and released his grasp on the younger man’s throat to reach out and grab the camera. With one hard yank, he ripped the piece of equipment out of the wall. It made a pathetic beeping noise as it died in his clenched fist. Holding it up for Rufus to see, he cracked a little smile. “Is this what you were so concerned about?” he sneered. “Well don’t worry… no one’s going to catch us now… it’s just you and me.” He dropped the broken camera on the floor and smashed it under his steel toed boot, drinking in the sweet look of horror plastered on Rufus’ face.

“Please… I’m sorry,” the blonde pleaded hysterically, looking down miserably at the scattered remains of the camera. Copious amounts of tears flooded down his flushed cheeks and splattered onto the floor. He had temporarily given up struggling and was now just shivering piteously against the wall. “I’m so sorry… just don’t hurt me…”

Sephiroth laughed harshly and callously un-tucked the blonde’s black shirt, sliding a hand up underneath. “You’re sorry?” he whispered, brushing his lips against Rufus’ wet cheek, savoring the salty tears. “No… I don’t think you’re sorry enough. Not yet.” He moved his lips down and covered Rufus’ mouth with his, hungrily raping the wet heat with his tongue. His hand groped the silky soft flesh of Rufus’ stomach and inched up to his chest. It had been so long since he had felt the blonde’s skin and tasted his mouth… how many days had it been? For some reason though, his memories of their past lovemaking were much sweeter than the present scenario. Rufus’ mouth tasted sour with bourbon, his hair smelled like Reno’s cologne, and a damp chill of sweat clung to his skin. To make matters worse, Sephiroth’s head ached, and his senses were distorted with the bitter twinge of heartbreak.

So it wasn’t exactly a heavenly fuck. But here he was, already getting hard… so what the hell? Why not make Rufus suffer a little for his actions? If anyone deserved a lesson in humility, it was him. And Sephiroth couldn’t deny the fact that he had sorely missed the blonde in the past weeks. Maybe a little too much, he hated to admit.

“Well….” Sephiroth pondered out loud, grazing his fingertips up and down Rufus’ chest. “What am I going to do with you?” He stole another kiss, nipping the VP’s trembling lower lip, while he tried to form a course of action. He adored Rufus’ mouth; his sultry, pouting lips were soft and delicate, nothing like the thin, rough lips of most men, and the inside of his little mouth was hot and slick, always ready to be raped. As Sephiroth slipped his tongue past Rufus’ lips again, he had an idea. Why was he raping that wet mouth with just his tongue? He broke the kiss and gazed hungrily down at Rufus’ flushed, fuckable face.

“Get on your knees,” he bluntly commanded, releasing the blonde’s wrists. Rufus just stared back at him with a stupid expression on his face, as if the action was unthinkable, impossible. Sephiroth’s eye twitched with exasperation. Perhaps the idiot needed some assistance. Cracking a dry smile, he clenched his fist and punched Rufus hard in the gut, hard enough to make the VP’s breath escape him with a sorry hiss. Gasping and groaning, he slowly sank to his knees, flushed face blanching to a plaster-white pallor.

“There,” Sephiroth smirked, glowering down at the crumpled up blonde. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Rufus’ response was nothing but a breathless gasp. 25, 24, 23… As Sephiroth unzipped his pants, he glanced up at the slowly dwindling numbers of the elevator’s descent. Not really caring if it was a stupid idea, he hit the ‘emergency stop’ button on the panel, just to make sure he was done before they reached the bottom. Why not? He had already destroyed the camera. It would embarrass Rufus more than it would him if someone caught them in here.

* * *

When the elevator lurched to a dead halt, Rufus clenched his sore stomach and swallowed hard, fighting down the bile rising in his throat. He was in so much pain he didn’t even care if someone walked in on them… his reputation seemed insignificant compared to the throbbing in his gut. However, when the doors didn’t open and the lights turned red, he dully realized that no one would be coming in anyway. Sephiroth, the conniving bastard, had stopped the elevator. He was trapped for an immeasurable amount of time with a professional killer who possibly wanted him dead. He looked up and shuddered – Sephiroth looked like the devil himself in the glaring red light; his unnaturally green eyes glowed eerily with what seemed like a light of their own, and the tint of the emergency lights gave Rufus the disconcerting impression that the General was covered in blood. Yet… despite the fear, despite the nauseating panic, the fact still remained that Sephiroth was fucking beautiful. It almost wasn’t fair how angelic his face was, how his lips curved so seductively, how erotic and taunting his slender hips could be when he moved… his whole body was agonizingly magnetic, every movement he made was painfully arousing. So why did his mind have to be so damn ugly? Why couldn’t he just be… perfect?

Well, no one’s perfect. Sephiroth was just a prime example of imperfection. And for some fucked-up reason, it was more erotic this way. Did Rufus really want a toned-down, passive version? He was already aroused, and he had to admit it was partly because of the rough treatment. So he was a little masochistic. So what?

Rough fingertips clenched his jaw and tilted his face upward, dispelling his sentimental thoughts. He found himself inches away from Sephiroth’s big, stiff cock. “I want to see if your mouth can do anything but bitch,” the General growled. Before Rufus could say a word of protest, his mouth was stuffed. Sephiroth relentlessly pushed forward, leaning forward with one hand on the wall, until his length was crammed down the VP’s throat.

Sephiroth’s cock felt bigger at this moment than it ever did before, if that was possible. It forced his mouth open as wide as it would go, straining the muscles in his jaw, and it filled his throat so completely that he didn’t even have room to gag. Copious amounts of tears flooded down his face as Sephiroth acquired a slow yet brutal rhythm, pulling out just enough so he could breathe before he pushed back in. Rufus’ own cock was already becoming a uncomfortable pain in between his legs… he desperately wished Sephiroth would have mercy on him and relieve the pressure building up when he was done, but this time he wasn’t so sure. For now, he tried to tease Sephiroth as much as he was able, running his tongue along the underside of his shaft and indulging in the almost-helpless groan that escaped the General’s lips. Despite the pain in his gut and the suffocating size of the cock crammed down his throat, he knew he had some control at this point – Sephiroth’s orgasm was completely his to manipulate. He used this scant control to its fullest extent, just to see if he could torture Sephiroth as much as his position allowed. Through his tear-glazed eyes, he could see that the General was biting his lip, trying like hell not to moan again. And Rufus could have sworn that he saw something deeper than hatred in those bottomless Mako eyes. Affection, perhaps? Love? Or maybe it was just the glow of feverish lust – Rufus was damn good at sucking cock, especially when he was liquored up.

“Fuck,” Sephiroth gasped, a mixture of yearning and exasperation in his hoarse voice. He leaned his forehead against the wall and bit his lip again, eyes drifting shut. Rufus could tell he was already getting close. Emboldened by the effect he was having on the silver-haired man, he let his hands drift up and grasp his strong, black-clad legs, pulling him closer. Sephiroth didn’t seem to mind – in fact, Rufus thought he heard a muffled sigh – so he took the cue and grazed his fingers up to caress his thighs, then his slender, narcotic hips. The tightness between his own legs was nearly unbearable, his hard arousal pressing urgently at the seams of his slacks. He had never been able to really touch Sephiroth before… now the combination of the General’s erection in his mouth and the hot, seductive hips moving under his fingertips was driving him crazy. He imagined Sephiroth naked in his bed, pinned under him, sighing, submitting… he let his hands slide back to the perfect curve of his ass, lightly running his fingertips over the fabric, wanting to rip it away and feel the skin underneath. Still, no protest, just another tortured groan. He worked the General’s cock harder, faster, tightening his lips around the swollen shaft.

“Ah – damn you…” Sephiroth moaned breathlessly, rocking his hips. Rufus felt a hand twist into his hair, pulling it brutally, urgently. The General had abandoned all sense of control and was groaning loudly, uttering a stream of curses that was music to Rufus’ ears. Seconds later he climaxed hard, crushing the VP’s face into his groin as he spilled his seed deep down his throat. Rufus swallowed it eagerly, savoring the taste of surrender. Sephiroth took a deep breath and let it out slowly. A sheen of sweat glimmered on his skin, making it glow in the red light. The elevator was warm with their body heat.

Rufus gently pulled his mouth away and grinned slightly. “So,” he said softly. “Can my mouth do anything but bitch?” He realized his hands were still gripping the General’s backside… he trailed them over to his hips and squeezed them lightly.

“I guess you proved me wrong,” Sephiroth sighed, brushing his long hair out of his eyes. “Where the hell did you learn how to do that…”

Tightening his grip on the General’s hips, Rufus raised himself to his feet. He looked up into the taller man’s lazy, half-lidded eyes, which were quizzically scanning his face. He was so hard he could barely stand it, so he softly guided Sephiroth’s hand down to it, keeping his gaze locked on the green eyes. The confounded expression on Sephiroth’s face grew, and a half-smile curved his lips.

“I thought I was teaching you a lesson,” the General murmured. “Not turning you on…” The hand massaged his arousal, running prickles down his spine.

“You should know by now the effect you have on me,” Rufus whispered. He stole a quick kiss from the General’s lips, indulging in the feel of them. “You drive me absolutely mad…”

“Is that so?” Sephiroth asked. The perplexed look still shadowed his face. “That makes two of us, then…” He leaned down and stole another kiss, letting it linger, slipping in his tongue. When they parted Rufus was breathing heavily.

“Well?” the VP sighed. “Are you going to return the favor? I can’t take it much longer…” He felt as though he’d bust any second, just from the hand that was teasing him.

Sephiroth raised his eyebrows, tilting his head slightly. “Do you really think you deserve to cum after fucking Reno?” he asked, hardening his voice slightly. The hand left his arousal, leaving a hollow yearning in Rufus’ groin. “No… I don’t think you’ve earned it yet,” he said. “You still haven’t learned your lesson on breaking my heart.”

Rufus snorted despite himself. “So the Great General Sephiroth has a heart after all,” he taunted softly, trying to hide his disappointment. “And all along I thought it was made out of stone…”

“For the most part,” Sephiroth replied. “Don’t expect to find flowers on your desk anytime soon.”

Rufus sighed, feeling his cheeks flush. “So what, maybe I got a little carried away,” he admitted. “At least I did something to show I care…”

“Yeah, yeah…” Sephiroth mumbled. He derisively pushed the “down” button on the wall, as if to dismiss the conversation. All at once the lights flared to their normal brightness and the elevator lurched into motion, dispelling the dark red moment like waking from a dream. Rufus was quickly reminded that he was drunk… he had almost forgotten. Once again, the General leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, except this time he kept his cool, analytical gaze fixed on the blonde. Rufus dumbly stared back, wondering whether the General was really serious… was he really going to leave Rufus to jerk it all by himself? And, more importantly, did he actually care about him? How was that even possible? Was it even worth imagining that Sephiroth raping Reno to hell and back then slaughtering a secretary was a sign of devotion?

Well… yes. It was very possible. Nothing was too bizarre to be impossible in Sephiroth’s warped brain.

12, 11, 10… This might be the longest elevator ride I’ve ever taken… Rufus mused. And then he had an idea. Probably not a smart one, and certainly not a very tactful one… but an idea, nonetheless. He bit his lip, took a long look into Sephiroth’s bottomless eyes, and popped the question.

“Come home with me tonight.”

The words hung in the air. Time slowed like molasses. Sephiroth’s expression didn’t change… but Rufus could have sworn he saw him blink.

6… 5… 4… Rufus wondered if his idea had been a bad one. Probably.

3…

2…

“Okay. Why the hell not?”

When the metal doors finally slid apart, Rufus couldn’t wipe the shit-eating grin off his face.


AUTHOR's NOTE - Hey, sorry it took me so damn long to write this chapter. I came up with like six different story lines, all of which I nixed before finally settling on this one. Sorry if anyone got offended by the needle part - I just didn't know how else to calm Sephiroth the fuck down. It was either that or shoot him with a tranquilizer dart... and that idea's really not as cool. However, I did finally come up with a feasable plot for the rest of this twisted story, so don't expect such a long wait this time. Hint... there's gonna be a lot of sex, a lot of bloodshed, and a lot of fucking drama. Only a few more chapters til the end, folks. So write a comment on your way out, tell me if the chapter sucks, and sit tight for the next one.