(no subject)
Some still, cold voice in his head warned him not to fight Sephiroth. He was infinitely stronger than Cloud was, the muscles in his shoulders and arms were like whipcords. If Cloud struggled then he might respond with violence, and Cloud would be damaged - emotionally, at least - forever. Whereas if Cloud...let him... If he closed of his mind, his senses and his emotions - everything that went to make up the real Cloud Strife - than nothing could happen to him. He could stop thinking...stop feeling...retreat to some hidden place inside himself and wait until the storm was over. It was just a meaningless physical act that was going to take place. It couldn’t touch his as a person at all.
“How sweet you feel, querida. How sloth and cool, like water in a desert.” Sephiroth said softly. His hand captured Cloud’s chin, turning his face up to Sephiroth’s, and he kissed Cloud on the mouth, his lips war and tinglingly sensuous. For a moment a shiver went through his innermost being which had nothing to do with fear, and he suppressed it ruthlessly, shocked at his own momentary weakness. Sephiroth laid a trail of small, light kisses across his Cloud’s cheek to his ear, gently tugging at the soft pink love with his teeth.
“You are trembling,” He whispered.
“Is it any wonder?” Cloud tried one last plea. “I beg you - let me go, please...”
“Do you truly find me so repulsive?” His tone hardened. “Then close your eyes, querida, and think about the benefits instead. The thought of my money should make you more...amenable if nothing else.”
“I don’t want your money,” His head twisted in desperate negation. “I don’t want anything of yours.”
“Truly?” Sephiroth jeered. “What a paragon you must be. Then you can pay me instead, Cloud. A payment in kind, in return for my hospitality.” His hand stroked Cloud’s shoulder and then slid down for his fingers to close with terrifying intimacy on his nipple. “A debt it will give me infinite joy to collect,” he added softly.
Cloud lay, rigid and unmoving, as Sephiroth began to caress him. The ordeal would soon be over, he tried to hell himself. He was hotly, eagerly aroused, and he’d probably been leading a celibate life in this wilderness for some time. Cloud wouldn’t have to endure this lingering exploration of his body for too long. But, as the long, suffering moments passed, he realised he was being naively optimistic. For Sephiroth Valentine was in no hurry at all. His hands and mouth touched Cloud as if every cell, every nerve-ending in his quivering flesh was a unique and fascinating experience for him. Sephiroth was, Cloud realised, the breath catching in his throat, hell-bent on forcing him to his own pitch of excitement. No doubt Cloud’s reluctance, his attempted rejection of him. Had piqued his male arrogance, and how he was determined to make Cloud respond to him as Sephiroth wanted. But it would take far more than determination, Cloud thought, his body jarring in shock as he felt Sephiroth’s tongue lazily encircling his nipple.
In fact, Cloud hadn’t really the slightest idea what it would take, but it certainly wasn’t the kind of practised caresses that Genesis Rhapsodos had undoubtedly enjoyed. I’m not even a person to him, Cloud thought, stiffening in hostility as Sephiroth’s long-fingered hand slid down the curve of his hip, lingering there, alerting him to the possibility of other, even more startling intimacies. I’m just a substitute. As Sephiroth parted Cloud’s thighs he had to sink his teeth into his lower lip, his whole body tensing in outrage.
“You are not a very ardent lover.” Sephiroth Valentine’s voice held amusement, and something else, less easy to analyse. He was probably annoyed that his technique wasn’t having the desired effect for once.
“I made no promises,” Cloud resorted flatly, but his voice wavered.
“No, that is true.” Sephiroth’s hands framed Cloud’s face, forcing Cloud to meet his direct gaze. “But I made one to myself.”
So, he was right, Cloud thought. Cloud lifted one shoulder in a shrug, “I’m sorry if it’s dented your macho pride to discover you’re not instantly desirable to anyone you meet.”
“I do not,” Sephiroth said with faint irony, “meet a great many.”
For a moment Cloud was assaulted by something like compassion. Sephiroth had been anticipating a passionate reunion with Genesis Rhapsodos, who probably knew everything there was to know about pleasing a man. And instead... Cloud stopped abruptly, right there. Life was full of disappointments, and Sephiroth had no right - no right at all - to jump to the insulting conclusion that Cloud was on offer in place of the absent Genesis.
“In any case, querida -” the mockery was back in full force, “- You should not have issued the invitation if you did not intend me to accept.”
What invitation? Cloud asked himself wildly. His lips parted in angry denial, but Sephiroth silenced them once again with his mouth. The kiss was deeper this time, his lips and tongue exploring Cloud slowly and languorously, as if he was savouring him in some intense and unique way. Another quiver of mingled fear and excitement rippled through Cloud. He’d never known a kiss could be like this - never imagined that a man’s mouth could be so cool on his, and yet burn down to his very soul. In spite of himself, Cloud could feel a small coil of heated pleasure beginning to unwind deep inside his body. The movement of Sephiroth’s mouth on his, the play of his hands on Cloud’s skin were too beguiling, too insidious. Cloud could beel the resistance, the anger ebbing out of him, and, in its place - what? Something Cloud couls not recognise - or had never before experienced. Sexual curiosity, perhaps, or something deeper and, infinitely more dangerous. He didn’t know, and it scared him.
Sephiroth lifted his head, and looked down at Cloud. “Querida,” he whispered, “don’t I please you - just a little?”
It was the last thing Cloud’d expected to hear from him. He was the arrogant ravager that he needed to hate, and now, instead...
“I - I don’t know.” Cloud almost croaked the words.
“Say my name.”
Cloud’s throat felt dry. He didn’t want to say it. It was too personal - too intimate. It brought Sephiroth too close, not just physically, but spiritually in some strange way, and Cloud didn’t want that. It would be, in its way, a form of submission.
“Say my name,” Sephiroth urged again huskily. “And kiss me - just once, amor.”
Cloud needed to say no, to reject Sephiroth utterly and finally, but somehow his mouth wouldn’t frame the word. Instead, on a soft sigh, conjured up from the depths of his being, he heard himself whisper “Sephiroth,” and his hands lifted to his shoulders to draw Sephiroth down to him. As Cloud’s lips touched his he knew he was lost. Small rivers of fire were suddenly running through his veins, and his pulse was going crazy. He could feel his own hardness growing, responding to the feeling of the stronger male’s skin and body on his. Resentment, bitterness, even fear were being submerged by darker, more potent forces that were impossible to resist - even if he’d wanted to. It wasn’t just a kiss - it was a fever, a delirium, a madness.
Somewhere in the hot swirling darkness that enveloped Cloud he was aware of Sephiroth’s hands sliding under his hips, lifting him for the first thrust of two fingers within him. There was a discomforting pain that caused Cloud to screw his eyes shut and throw his head back, sweat covering his neck that Sephiroth licked away with his tongue. Then before he knew what was happening the fingers were withdrawn after stretching him for some time and Cloud once again felt his hips lifted, to the first unequivocal thrust of his manhood.
There was a pain so sharp that the darkness was rent with jagged lights, and Cloud had to fight to subdue a small moan. One side of his mind wanted to beg Sephiroth to stop. But as Cloud lay beneath him, numb and speechless, he felt his body gradually coming to terms with this new and shattering sensation. If there had been any justice the pain should have killed the need and brought Cloud, with shame, back to his senses. But, as it receded Cloud found other, even stronger feelings taking its place. As Sephiroth began to move again imperatively, intensifying his first possession of Cloud, he arched to meet him, bringing a groan of satisfaction from Sephiroth’s throat. Sephiroth kissed Cloud again, hungrily, the slide of his tongue against Cloud’s mirroring the movements of his loins, slow now, and deep, and infinitely controlled.
Too controlled, Cloud thought, his body twisting, obeying an instinct he hadn’t know he possessed as his hands tightened on Sephiroth’s shoulders, adsorbing the play of muscle beneath his sweat damped skin. How could he be so patient...? Even as the question formed on Cloud’s mind, the rhythm of his possession changed suddenly - sharpened, quickened, as if he was trying to reach some hidden core in Cloud, some undiscovered wellspring of feeling. As it did Cloud felt Sephiroth suddenly hit something he never knew he had in him, all of a sudden there was a river of molten lava running through his veins and he gave a loud cry. His back arched to meet the movements that Sephiroth was making, the savage urgency of it caught him up, and carried Cloud down into some deep, dark chasm of the spirit where all coherent though spun away. Only sensation remained, the sweet agony splintering Cloud as Sephiroth reputedly brought that wave of lava down upon him - tearing him apart.
Cloud heard Sephiroth groan huskily in turn, his body convulsing in spasm after ecstatic spasm and it was all too much. The cosmos raced behind his eyes as Cloud felt him reach a peak that he had never experienced before. Sephiroth then slumped beside him, burying his face in the pillow his arm thrown across Cloud, keeping him pinned beside him. For a while Cloud remained still as his mind tried dazedly to come to terms with what had been happening. But, as sanity returned, it brought shame in its wake, and a frantic, horrified disbelief.
Oh, God, what had he done? Cloud wailed silently. What had he allowed Sephiroth to do? Cloud tried to edge away from Sephiroth, but the imprisoning arm tightened, pulling Cloud against him. Sephiroth muttered something slurred and husky in his own language, and a few minute later his even breathing told Cloud that he was asleep. Cloud lay rigidly, hating Sephiroth’s total relaxation... the way his warm breath fanned Cloud’s shoulder. They could have been sleeping together all their lives, Cloud though resentfully. The least he could have done was allow Cloud to crawl away - heal his aching body in solitude. But the pain Sephiroth had inflicted, though real, was the least of Cloud’s worries. Infinitely more disturbing was the reality of his own capitulation. Why couldn’t he have retreated from him - remained immune through it all, as Cloud had intended?
Cloud could never forgive himself for that - and yet he had to. It had happened, but now it was over. What Cloud had to do was carry on with his real life, as if this had just been some nightmare, terrifying at the time, but forgettable, Cloud told himself, biting his lip. Slowly and carefully Cloud turned his head and stared at Sephiroth - this total stranger who had just known him more intimately than any other human being. Who’d made Cloud experience feeling and emotions he’d never dreamed existed.
He was... attractive, Cloud acknowledged with deep reluctance, although that didn’t excuse anything. In fact, he was handsome with a strong, almost classic bone structure, fine and delicate but by no mean’s effeminate. His hair was thick, a glossy shining silver that spooled over both Cloud and Sephiroth, covering them in a spun blanket of silver. His lashes were almost indecently long and Cloud wondered how he managed to have such pale skin in such a hot and sunny environment. As he slept his mouth curved slightly, as if some dream of recollection was making him smile.
Cloud shuddered, then reached out a cautious and turned down the lamp. He had seen, he told himself, more than enough. The last thing he wanted was Sephiroth’s image imprinted on some memory band in Cloud’s mind forever. Yet as he fell asleep, Cloud could not hope in weary and guilty fantasies that this would become more than just another notch on Sephiroth’s bedpost. For Cloud knew he would always remember this handsome stranger that taught him how to experience pleasure properly. That was Cloud’s last thought as he surrendered his mind and body to weary oblivion.
Finally, done! I am ill in bed right now so do not expect any updates from me too quickly. Don't worry it's not bird flu, just bad migranes, dizzyness, and quite a few, nasty, symptoms. all in all just normal flu.