At least he's hot

Chapter eight: After the fact

Knock, knock, knock.

Rufus’ eyes snapped open. He looked around blearily, disoriented from sleep. He was sprawled out on his couch, the television was on, and a tell-tale bottle of sleeping pills was sitting on the coffee table.

He had recently gotten a prescription for sleeping pills, after suffering from mild insomnia associated with the recent events. His doctor had said, with a look of grim knowing, “Everyone that works for ShinRa has a prescription for sleep aids. Perhaps you should consider working somewhere less… well… evil.”

After worrying about Sephiroth for hours on end, he had slipped two of the sleep aids under his tongue. Apparently just one would have done the trick… he hadn’t even made it to bed.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

It was quite obvious that someone knocking on his door. He wondered who it could be at this hour… what time was it, anyway? He squinted his eyes to read the clock on his wall… 4:39, it said. Almost morning, for Christ’s sake.

Whoever’s knocking better have a good reason, he sourly thought. Mulling over who it could have been, he had a rather stupid revelation. It was probably Sephiroth, back from his ‘mission.’ He hoped so. Another urgent knock forced him to jump up from the couch and limp over to the door. He peered through the peephole.

Yes, indeed it was Sephiroth, looking horribly bloody and exhausted. Without further hesitation, he opened the door.

“Christ…” he murmured. The General looked deathly pale, and a blood-soaked bandage was wrapped around his waist. His monstrous sword was strapped to his back. It seemed he was just doomed to look progressively worse every time he knocked on the door.

“I’ve been knocking on your fucking door for fifteen minutes,” Sephiroth huffed. “What’s your problem?”

“Oh… I’ve been taking sleeping pills…” Rufus mumbled. “You should… uh… try them some time. They work pretty well.”

Silence. Sephiroth looked like a fucking corpse.

“Umm… what happened?” he finally stuttered.

“Just what I told you would happen,” Sephiroth spat. It wasn’t hard to tell he was in one of his ‘moods.’ “I fucked Reno up really bad. He’s probably going to kill himself.”

Rufus blushed awkwardly. What do you say to something like that? Thanks? He looked down at the blood again… it soaked the General’s midsection. “You’re hurt,” he stated.

Sephiroth looked at Rufus like he was stupid. “Yeah, Reno stabbed me,” he said dryly.

More silence. Sephiroth made no move to come inside, so Rufus remained in the doorway, unsure of what to say or do.

“Oh. This is why I came up here,” the General mumbled. He slid a hand into his trench coat pocket and withdrew a small, black tape. “Here,” he said, shoving it into Rufus’ breast. The push nearly knocked the wind out of him. “It’s that video of us in the elevator,” he continued. "You have to destroy it so no one finds it. Crush it, burn it, whatever.”

“Oh… OK,” Rufus murmured. He turned the tape over in his hands. Reno’s scrawled handwriting adorned the side. It read, “HELL YA.”

“Thanks,” he said, looking up nervously at the General’s pale-as-death face. The features remained stoic as stone.

“Well, I’m going home,” Sephiroth finally said, after another unnerving pause. “Incase you couldn’t tell, I’m not in a very good mood. Actually, I’m pissed.”

“Is… there anything I can do?” Rufus stammered. “You want a drink?”

Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed. “No. Didn’t you hear me? I’m pissed. At you. At Reno. At everybody. I’m pissed at this whole world. I’m fucking done, I swear to God.” With that, he turned and left, quickly disappearing around the hallway corner.

Rufus stood in the doorway, slack jawed and dangerously close to tears. Had that really just happened? He had a sinking feeling that he’d just been kicked to the curb, if anything had been there in the first place.

He turned and plodded inside, softly closing the door behind him. Cool. Sephiroth hates my guts. I had the hottest man in existence and I totally fucked it up. He glumly looked down at the tape. This stupid recording is probably all I have left,

He set the tape down on the coffee table and shuffled into the kitchen. This occasion called for a tall, stiff drink. He pulled some orange juice out of the fridge and morbidly poured himself a mostly-vodka screwdriver. Fuck it, right? With a defeated sigh he took the drink and returned to the living room, flopping down on the couch.

He wondered what Sephiroth had done to Reno. He assumed it had something to do with sex. Rape, torture, whatever. It seemed to him that the General had done it out of his own accord, not for Rufus’ sake. Just as he had feared. Apparently, Sephiroth was nothing but angry about the ‘date rape’ Rufus had so willingly admitted to. No jealousy, no pity… just anger.

For good enough reason, I suppose, he pondered. I shouldn’t have dialed Reno’s number in the first place. Guilt heated his cheeks. He took a large gulp of the screwdriver, as if he could drown out the thoughts. Why was he even feeling guilt? Why was he feeling anything? Sephiroth was a prick. So what?

But his distressed mind begged to differ.

He grabbed the tape and ambled over to his VCR. Might as well relish in misery, he morbidly decided as he slipped the tape in and pressed play. Flicking on the TV, he quickly sat back down on the couch, his interest peaked with wretched curiosity.

The screen flickered. A bird’s eye view of the elevator appeared, grey-scale and grainy. For a dull minute or so nothing changed. There was no sound.

However, in a burst of blurred pixels, the stars of the show soon appeared – Rufus coming first, followed closely by Sephiroth. In a fluid motion that was almost graceful, Rufus ran straight into the glass back wall that overlooked the city and the General ferociously pinned him there, black gloves covering pale hands. A flood of silver hair followed their movement.

Rufus sighed, sipping his drink. He hadn’t thought much of the night since it had happened, but the tape brought back a raw sensation, feelings he had forgotten.

The images of the two men seemed to entwine and mold into each other as Sephiroth attacked the Vice President’s neck. It was a pixilated blur of lust, rising and falling, barely discernable in the dark grey haze.

The image was terrible, but it affected Rufus more than any of the high quality porn he owned. The memories flooded him, flushed him. He could feel it as it played out on the screen, Sephiroth’s gloved hands, his mouth, his hair. He could also feel himself growing hard.

The General’s hands slid down Rufus’ chest, snaking up the shirt and down the pants.

Rufus bit his lip. He was painfully erect now, eyes fixed trancelike on the screen. Without looking down he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, unable to restrain himself. Why the hell not? He probably wasn’t going to feel anyone’s caresses but his own for a while anyway.

The blurred image acquired a more rhythmic motion as the two began to grind against each other in a wanton display of sexual desire. Their backs arched; the General’s hands gripped Rufus' hips.

Rufus took his free hand and wrapped it around his swollen length. A groan escaped his lips as he began to rhythmically stroke his shaft.

Sephiroth’s hands were working in rhythm as well, skillfully teasing Rufus’ cock in time with his deliberate thrusts.

He quickened his strokes… he could already feel the heat of orgasm building in his groin. He recalled his reaction when he had felt Sephiroth’s arousal rubbing up against him for the first time. It had been a poignant blend of surprise and knee-quaking lust… surprise at the large size of it, lust at the realization that it was hard for him.

The screen seemed to glow with the heat of their lust, the motion frenzied, the glass fogging. Sephiroth was ravaging him, devouring him. Rufus could almost hear their sighs, the General’s deep growl and his own breathless moans. He wished he could stand up and warp into the tape. He wanted to be caught in Sephiroth’s wicked embrace again.

Vodka screwdriver sloshed out of the glass as he furiously thrust his cock into his hand, faster, harder, riding that hot wave of euphoria as it swelled. He wanted Sephiroth severely, to feel him, kiss him, fuck him. He wanted to own him.

Ah - he was mine… all mine…

He let out a loud, heated moan as a mind-wrecking orgasm exploded through his senses. He spilled his seed with a shutter, jerking his hips up into his tightly clenched hand.

As if on queue the stars of the show suddenly stopped, quickly pulling away from each other and stumbling out the parted metal doors. Then the room was empty. Just a dark, boring box. Rufus almost expected an encore or some credits. But that was it… a few seconds later the tape ended and the TV screen abruptly turned bright blue.

He sighed and leaned back in the couch, still holding his twitching cock as the afterglow pulsed in his bloodstream. He took a sip of vodka. “Wow,” he murmured out loud, unable to form a more complex thought in his sedated mind.

Wow.

As the heat of orgasm slowly left him, emptiness filled him again. Sephiroth wasn’t here. He was gone. There would be no more heated scenes in the elevator, or anywhere else for that matter.

He was gone.

I guess it’s back to screwing fan boys and sniveling associates, he realized with a sharp twinge of regret. Christ… I think I’d rather be stabbed in the eye with a rusty screwdriver.

He finished his drink with a tilt of his head. Despite his stubborn desire to stay up and mope he quickly dozed off, sinking into the plush couch.

* * *

The cold night air barely took the edge off Sephiroth’s boiling hot rage. He walked quickly, head lowered, hands shoved in his pockets. He barely noticed the throbbing wound in the center of his gut. It was like a paper cut, a mild annoyance.

Why was he so mad? The rage consumed him, blinded him. He was actually seeing red. This was not just an expression.

He had thought that screwing Reno would have taken the edge off. However, for some fucked up reason, it had just made it worse. Sure, it had been fun at the time, but after the fact, when he was cleaning the room up, a foul mood had descended on him like a toxic cloud. The smell of antiseptic had made him nauseous, the white walls had closed in on him, and his eyes had begun to water from the glare of the flickering fluorescent lights. Something like an emotional KO had hit him, a horrible mix of claustrophobia and gut-wrenching despair.

He probably shouldn’t have chosen Hojo’s lab in the first place. Why did he pick it?

He quickened his pace, as if he could outrun the feeling.

He had felt it before, of course. Every time he stepped foot in the lab he felt it. Every time he saw Hojo, or glimpsed at the monitors and screens. That same anger, the twinge of despair. Something terrible was hidden in that lab, concealed under layers of amnesia and white lies.

This was something very few people knew about Sephiroth - he couldn’t remember his childhood. Nothing before age twelve. The doctors all said he had cracked his head open… that would explain all the stitches, right? So why that feeling? Why did the labs conjure up such a wretched emotion?

He wasn’t fucking stupid. And the way Hojo smiled at him made him want to explode.

His apartment complex loomed up in the distance, a grim monstrosity of concrete and rust. He lived in the industrial section of Midgar, under the shadows of factories and smokestacks. Sure, he could afford to live somewhere nicer, but for some reason this place felt like home.

The Mako treatments, the flashbacks, the hollow despair. Something didn’t add up. Thinking about it made him sick with rage.

He had already decided to take a leave from work. He had made the decision when he was slicing a red spiral down Reno’s cock. I’m going mad, he had suddenly realized. And it was true.

He needed a week off to collect his head. No booze, no sex, no fights. Just time to think. Maybe he’d come to a conclusion on things… for better or for worse.

He had a sinking feeling it was going to be for worse.


AUTHOR'S NOTE

Yeah, sorry this chapter's so short. I'm working hard on the next one, and I promise it'll be up soon. Sorry for lagging so much... I just moved and stuff. So yeah. Post comments, I love them more than... uh... peanuts. And that's a lot.