Painting love with Blood

Dinner was a quiet affair, neither Sephiroth nor Cloud felt the need to say a word and the silence was without tension. After they had finished Sephiroth called Vincent to take Cloud to his room and draw a bath before going into the parlour to think in front of the fire. As he was lead to the room Cloud couldn’t help but wonder at the house; the halls were all decorated with expensive looking carpets and the walls were covered in portraits and paintings. There were ornaments and vases on display and even suits of armour. Half of what was in the house could belong in a museum while the other half in an art gallery. How rich was this mysterious man that whisked away Cloud like Christine had been spirited away by the phantom of the opera. No, Cloud thought, that was a bad comparison. As he was wracking his brains for a suitable comparison he barely noticed that they had arrived in a room and Vincent had gone into a small door to the left of the entrance.

Once he realised that Vincent had left Cloud turned his head to look about the room. It was large, but everything in this house seemed to be large. The bed was a four poster monster that had heavy drapes tied up with cord. A large mirror hung on the east wall; he knew it was east as he could see the last beams of the setting sun out the window on the other side. The sun always did set late in the summer here. There was a wardrobe and a chest of draws with a vanity mirror on it on the wall to the right of the east wall, which must be the north wall. The south wall had the bed, along with the door that must lead to the bathroom. The spot in-between the chest of draws and the wardrobe was taken up by a painting that stretched from the ceiling to the floor and was over two meters wide. It showed a tree with the back of a woman looking out to a battlefield that was stained with the blood of a thousand warriors. Shuddering, Cloud turned away from the painting and walked over to the bed. It was very soft, he realised, as he sat on the end of it. Collapsing back he allowed himself to close his eyes. He would enjoy his time here as it would probably be the only time he would ever stay in such luxury.

Vincent came out of the door and motioned for Cloud to enter, strange, he had not heard Vincent utter a word once. Shrugging, Cloud entered the bathroom. In accordance with the rest of the house it was large. The huge claw-bottomed tub could easily fit two fully grown men and still have room for someone Cloud’s size. There was a power shower as well, off to the left and a cupboard that Cloud could only assume held towels. The bath was steaming softly and at that moment nothing looked more inviting to Cloud. Vincent had left to do whatever he does so Cloud stripped and left his clothes on the edge of the bed, it would do no good getting them wet. Shutting the door behind him, he walked the couple of paces across the room to the bath. He grabbed a bottle of shampoo and another of conditioner before sliding into the water.

Cloud leant back into the warm water, his mind fluttering over the day’s events before deciding it was much too much effort. He was warm, fed and had a large and comfortable bed to look forward too. While his host was certainly strange it was nothing that needed to be worrying about at this minute. Washing did not seem to take much time and it wasn’t long before Cloud noticed wrinkles appearing on his fingers. After departing the bath and pulling the plug, Cloud picked up the nightshirt that had been left for him. It was too big, obviously one of Sephiroth's, and almost drowned him in its folds. It made him feel like a kid playing dress up in his father’s clothing. At the same time, he blushed; there was something sinfully erotic about wearing the seductive man’s large silk shirt. Cloud turned his head to smell the collar of the shirt. While he flushed at his actions he inhaled, and then frowned. There was none of the wood musk and pine that accompanied the man everywhere. Just the faint scent of detergent and a hint of lavender that clung to the fabric like a sleeping child to its blanket. The maids had obviously put a small packed of lavender in the draw they kept the shirts in, his mother used to do that with mint. Still, this was Sephiroth’s shirt. Cloud went and sat down in the, now empty, but still wet bath and reached his hand down at the bottom of the shirt. He was already hard, Cloud noticed to his embarrassment.

The sleeves of the shirt were too long and he ended up grasping his cock through the silk. The sensation was different from the other times from when he had masturbated. The smooth silk of the shirt a contrast to the skin of his hands. He arched his back into the side of the porcelain tub, imagining that it was Sephiroth wearing silk gloves as he ran his hand up and down his length. Those long fingers encased in black silk would slowly curl around his base, Cloud decided, before slowly bringing them up the length of his cock and back down again. Sephiroth would twist his hand and used his nails through the silk to scrape along the underside of his cock. He could see the man, those endless pools of green would be curled into a smirk, and his mouth would follow the corners twitching up. A second hand encased in silk slid up Clouds chest, under the expanse of the shirt, to brutally twist his nipple. Sephiroth was not gentle; the hand on his cock squeezed and roughly pumped him once. Cloud arched his back, neck exposed as he threw his head backwards. He was moaning now, with abandon as the silver devil continued to torture him. The smirk on Sephiroth’s face widened as covered nails drew across the expanse of his chest, reaching both nipples. The hand on his Cock was rough but commanding, possessive. Cloud could almost feel the tips of the silver strands of hair that rested softly on the shirt that Cloud wore. Gradually the strokes became faster and faster, the coil of heat that was wrapped around Cloud’s body tightened and lava began to rampage through his veins instead of blood. The coil tightened and knotted in on itself before bursting open. Cloud came harder than he had ever before. After a few minutes had passed and Cloud had recovered, he was panting still and a light sheen of sweat covered his whole body.

Looking down Cloud realised that he had made a mess, the cuff of the shirt was covered in his cum but at least the rest was in the bath and would wash out. His face was as red as a strawberry as he tried not to think of what he had just done. He had jacked off over a man he barely knew and had come harder than he had ever done before. What’s more he had soiled the man’s shirt. He would have to change shirts. After running water though the bath to clean it and then discarding the shirt in a laundry chute Cloud looked around the bathroom for another. Only to realise that there was no other shirt. He would have to sleep nude for he doubted he would find sleeping clothes in the chest of draws or the wardrobe in the room. Perhaps he could use his boxers to sleep in? Cloud went through the door to find his clothes, only to look on in horror at the empty end of the bed. Vincent or some maid must have taken his clothes to be washed, for there was no sign of them in the room. Gingerly Cloud climbed into the bed and wrapped the sheets around him. He was uncomfortable, sleeping with nothing on. Nights at his hometown were cold an often you had to wear thick pyjamas to keep warm. Even on hot nights cloud still wore a t-shirt and boxers to bed. Cloud was exhausted; the events of the day had tired him, coupled with being awakened early the morning before. Within five minutes he was asleep.

Sephiroth stared into the dancing flames as they flickered in the fireplace; bright, merry, oranges and yellows that devoured the wood turning it first into black charcoal then into white ash. A process of reformation, almost, that could not be reversed. They were entrancing, he decided, before turning away to face the window instead. There was something else that was entrancing, something that was currently sleeping a floor above. Sephiroth sighed and turned back to the flames, his head hurt.

Cloud was confusing. He was obviously stubborn but would bend if manipulated the correct way. He was trusting and yet suspicious of everything as if it would hurt him. The most confusing thing of all was what he made Sephiroth feel. Sephiroth’d had many toys, they all broke so easily. The many beautiful toys he had that would hold his attention for a while. He always wanted the same things from those toys. Their red blood running down from their skin and the pleasure they could bring him. Sephiroth was possessive he acknowledged that but he also would not mind if a toy ran away. With Cloud it was different. He wanted to hold him to himself forever. Never let him go and keep him chained to Sephiroth for the rest of eternity. He wanted to see him aroused, bleeding and bound to his bed. Yet he also wanted to hold him close; to wrap his arms around him and never let anything but himself touch the boy. Sephiroth wanted Cloud more, more than a toy. Before the toys had all been for pleasure of the body. Now he wanted Cloud’s love his adoration and his eyes to be forever fixated on Sephiroth’s own. Yes, Sephiroth decided, Cloud would not be a toy. Cloud would be something more... permanent in Sephiroth’s life.

With that decided Sephiroth left the chair beside the fire and exited the room. He had many things to prepare.

Upstairs, wreathed in the bonds of sleep, Cloud tossed and turned. Visions of green eyes with slitted pupils clouded his dreams. Long slender fingers that held so much strength, yet had the potential to be as soft and gentle as a butterfly’s wings. Occasionally these dreams would be interrupted by a brief horrifying scene of being dressed up in a maid’s outfit or some pink puffy dress by a cackling Aeris who stood alongside Zack laughing. They might be joined by a mocking redhead if the dreams felt pitifully vindictive. In his unrest he had tossed the sheets off him leaving his naked body exposed to the night air. It was not cold, that would’ve awoken him. The night air was mild; however it was colder than under the sheets so Cloud’s nipples puckered in response to the change in temperature. Cloud lay on his left side with his right leg thrown over to the other side of the bed and his right arm serving as an extra pillow beneath the one that supported his head.

Just as Cloud’s dreams slipped back to the soft touches of long fingers and the intense gaze of green eyes there was movement in the opposite side of the room. The portrait of the blooded battlefield swung open revealing a dark corridor. Through the darkness stepped a tall figure with a long waterfall of silver hair. His silken robe flapping open revelling that he wore nothing underneath, Sephiroth strode towards the bed that held Cloud. He stopped a pace before the bed to stare down at the skin that was revealed to him. A pink tongue darted out to wet a suddenly dry pair of lips. As if sensing the intense gaze Cloud shifted in his sleep, curling into more of a ball. The moon shone down upon the two figures illuminating pale skin as it glistened and rippled. The portrait door swung shut.