Darkness Falls

Disclaimer: That Cloud and Sephiroth are not mine is something that I despair of on a daily basis. In other words, Final Fantasy VII (c) and its characters are the property of Square Enix, they are not mine, and I am making no money whatsoever from this work of fan fiction.

A/N: Big thanks to Kiheki, my lovely and only reviewer! Hehe. In other news – why did nobody tell me about Dissidia earlier? Wow. Check out the trailers on YouTube. On with the story – it is seriously Cloud/Seph from herein, so if you’re not cool with that, jog on my friend. In addition, I know that this story is pre-Advent Children, and so the whole shoulder-stabbing thing hasn’t happened yet, but my muse wanted it anyway. So there.


Darkness Falls

Part 3

Cloud stirred, vaguely aware of something cold against his back. He shivered; make that very cold. Shifting uncomfortably, he put a hand to his throbbing forehead; a grunt of pain escaped him as it came away sticky with blood. This was not good.

“Ah, so you’re awake then,” a cold and terribly familiar voice cut across the silence.

Cloud raised his head, despite the pain that flared behind his eyes at the movement, and regarded Sephiroth with a cool stare.

“What...are you doing?” he managed, thankful for the – albeit very small mercy - that he was not slurring his words.

A mocking smile, then, and Sephiroth crossed the floor towards him, coming to a halt and kneeling mere inches away from Cloud’s face. The younger swordsman felt his heart pounding hard against his chest, the proximity of the General shooting fire through his veins.

“I am teaching you a lesson,” he said lowly, like a parent lecturing a naughty child, “That you will never forget.”

Slowly, a gloved hand reached out and settled in his hair, stroking absently through the golden spikes. Cloud snarled and tried to jerk out of his grip, but then Sephiroth’s own grip tightened, yanking hard on his hair and holding his head firmly in place.

For a moment, the taller man’s eyes closed, his head tilted back, and Cloud could only watch in confusion. When they opened again, he knew that he would never be able to forget the arrogant cruelty of that gaze; pools of jade that narrowed, sharpened, biting into him as their owner’s blade had done on so many occasions.

Sephiroth leant in very close, then, so that their lips were almost touching. He felt Cloud’s shallow breaths against his mouth, prompting a familiar stirring in his groin. There was a slight flush to the younger man’s cheekbones; as his chest heaved to draw in more oxygen, Sephiroth could see the outline of lean, tight muscle through his shirt. He bit back a groan, but Cloud had not missed the way that his eyes darkened.

“She is telling me... to tear you limb from limb,” he crooned against Cloud’s lips. “To paint these walls;” at which he gestured with a free hand, “with your blood.” It was only then that Cloud realised they were still in the depths of the Northern Cave.

“Get on with it then! ... Wouldn’t want... to keep mommy waiting, now would you?” Cloud taunted, deciding that the strong backhand he got for his effort was entirely worth it. He spat blood onto the floor and waited for the stinging of his lip to subside.

“You are playing with fire, Strife,” he warned, “and whilst I am loath to kill you so soon into our little game, I can make your last moments very much more... uncomfortable.”

Cloud eyed the masamune warily, sword hand clenching into a fist as he wished for the security that came from wielding his own blade. Seeming to guess his thoughts, Sephiroth laughed and stood up, taking a couple of steps back from his prisoner. Cloud felt the loss keenly, as the cold air of the cave rushed against him, no longer held back by the larger, warm body of the General.

“That ridiculous hunk of metal that you term a sword is the only thing keeping you upright” he sneered, “But feel free to use it...if you can.”

Reaching behind himself, Cloud realised that he was indeed propped against First Tsuguri, its having been driven about a third of the way into the cave floor. Despite the pounding that started in his head at the very thought of removing the sword, the potent mix of adrenaline and mako coursing through his veins was enough to force
Cloud to his feet, though his legs were still unsteady.

“If only your friends could see you now, oh brave hero, stumbling like a lamb to the slaughter!” Sephiroth sneered, holding the masamune ready in an aggressive stance. The mention of his friends, however, could only have a strengthening effect upon Cloud. He had to succeed – for Aerith, for Zack, and for AVALANCHE. Wrapping both hands around First Tsuguri’s hilt, he pulled with the strength of his friends behind him, and the handsome weapon was free in mere seconds.

Lacking any time to appreciate his success, Cloud brought the sword up into a defensive stance just as the masamune slashed towards his face, the clashing of the two swords echoing off the cave walls. His aching muscles protested, and his arms shook with the effort as he pushed against Sephiroth with all his remaining strength. His adversary, meanwhile, had the nerve to look amused, even bored, and the slightest flick of his wrist, the bare minimum of effort, sent Cloud crashing back to the floor, panting heavily.

“Your body is weak, for all of its enhancements,” Sephiroth mused, stalking around Cloud who was leant back on his arms, struggling to hold himself upright despite his light, lean frame. He tried to reach for his sword again, but Sephiroth kicked it away; both heard it clatter against the other side of the cave.

“You will bow down to me,” he promised, his voice low, with an undercurrent of heat that made Cloud shiver. Unconsciously or not, both men’s bodies were reacting to the eroticism that seemed to hang in the air between them.

“You will bow down to me, and I will kill you,” Sephiroth clarified. In a swift and silent move, he drove the masamune deep into the meat of Cloud’s shoulder before the younger man had even registered the pain.

He cried out, then, and Sephiroth’s eyes hooded further at the sound, at the sight of him impaled on the end of the blade. He shivered, allowing himself to wonder what it would be like to penetrate the youth by...other means. Jenova screeched angrily in his mind, the momentary pain made his arm spasm, and he twisted the blade still buried deep in Cloud’s shoulder. Cloud instinctively jerked against the pain, but only succeeded in impaling himself further.

When he moaned this time, feeling the warm blood run down his chest, it was accompanied by another kind of heat entirely; one that spread out over his lower belly and pooled in his groin.

Even in the midst of such agony, he was hard – and Sephiroth had seen it.

Breath coming in short, shallow pants to match Cloud’s own, Sephiroth let go of the sword and dropped to crouch over the younger man’s prone form. As Cloud watched through heavy eyes, Sephiroth put one gloved hand into his mouth, teeth pulling the leather away to reveal perfect, pale skin. Repeating the process with his other hand, he could barely believe the state of his prisoner, the taut bulge in the leather that stretched across his lower body, leather soon smeared red from the wound deep in his shoulder.

Hands free of their confinement, Sephiroth reached out and cupped Cloud’s cheek, tilting his face upwards. The raw need that he found in those deep blue eyes, need that perfectly matched his own, was startling. So startling that he abandoned whatever taunting he had planned, and roughly pulled their lips together; Cloud’s cry of pain as the sword bit further into his body was the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue inside, deepening the kiss as Cloud struggled to regain some ounce of control.

His refusal, even now, to submit aroused Sephiroth beyond belief and, firmly shutting Jenova’s enraged cry from his mind, he slid his free hand down Cloud’s body and firmly grabbed the hard bulge between his legs. The blonde’s wail of pleasure reverberated around the cave, breath coming in harsh pants as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Ohhhh...god...” he moaned low, as Sephiroth’s grip became a lazy stroke.

“Yes,” the General purred, drawing the word out, “I see you finally understand.”

TBC