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It starts as an ordinary day in Edge. Summer is at its end, slowly giving way to autumn, and Cloud is eagerly anticipating its departure. He’s always hated the oppressive humidity, the feel of clothes sticking to his skin, the endless nights spent tangled in soaked sheets. It’s a relief to finally get some respite as the days turn shorter and the scorching heat is driven away by a cool breeze.
This is actually Cloud’s favorite time of the year—the brief interlude at the changing of the seasons, when the days are still sunny, but the sweltering heat is gone. It is the perfect time to be outside, and he uses every possible opportunity to make the most of it. Whenever he can, he leaves his bike parked in front of the bar and walks. Just walks. Aimlessly, losing himself in his thoughts.
Cloud’s only worries these days are related to his job and occasional errands. Everything else is disgustingly mundane, as it has been for a while.
All the monsters around Edge have been taken care of, and there’s nothing for Cloud to do. Sephiroth hasn’t been around either. It’s been over two years since the last time Cloud saw him. Long enough that he no longer looks over his shoulder at every turn, afraid of finding him there. Long enough to start hoping the man might finally be gone for good.
Cloud strolls down the busy streets of Edge, lost in his thoughts, enjoying the breeze. The only worry on his mind is that he might not find Marlene’s favorite ice cream on the way back, which will make her sulk for the rest of the day.
The day seems perfectly normal, just like any other—until it’s not.
Cloud takes a step and feels the pavement give. It swallows his foot like quicksand, pulling him in greedily. There’s no time to resist; no time to even gasp. It all happens too fast. The rest of his body follows, and the world is enveloped in darkness. Cloud’s consciousness slips away, drifting from his body and into this new world, this new dimension, somewhere just out of reach.
Cloud feels like he’s falling, weightless, helpless. His stomach lurches, and he wants to scream, but there is no air, no voice in this void.
Fear grips him, and it seems to go on forever, but in reality, it’s probably no more than a few seconds.
When he finally gasps, gulping for air, the street is gone; so is Edge. He turns quickly, spinning around in every direction, unable to believe his eyes. Nothing makes sense because he is no longer outside. Somehow, he was teleported to a small, nondescript room. He looks around, trying to get an idea of where he might be, but nothing here is recognizable. The walls are bare and pure white. They bear no paintings or decorations of any kind. In fact, there’s nothing on them at all—not even windows or doors!
This place looks like a box; or a prison.
Cloud’s mind starts racing, his heart suddenly pounding.
What the hell is this place?
He explores the walls with his hands, hoping to find a release switch that would reveal a door, but there is nothing. He taps, prods, and presses, but the walls remain solid.
With each passing second, Cloud’s alarm only grows. How is he supposed to get out of here? He doesn’t even have a weapon! He used to keep his sword on him at all times, but these days, he became too complacent. He believed himself safe. On such a beautiful day, on such a short walk, he never expected he might need it.
Sighing in frustration, Cloud keeps searching.
There aren’t many places to look, though. The room is empty save for a small table in its center, a king-sized bed in the far corner, and a nightstand right next to it.
The presence of a bed fills Cloud with unease. It makes him wonder about the purpose of this place. Who would create a room like this and why?
His unease grows exponentially when he looks closer and finds some rather interesting items on the nightstand.
Shiny and colorful, they’re the only things in this room that stand out, yet Cloud wishes he hadn’t seen them: bottles of lube in every flavor imaginable, an assortment of condoms in many different sizes, and even sex toys.
Blushing a fierce shade of red, Cloud quickly backs away. He definitely won’t be needing any of those! Still, their mere presence unsettles him. It makes him wonder, yet again, about the true purpose of this place.
More urgently than ever, Cloud scrambles to find an exit, checking the walls once more, desperately searching for a hidden mechanism, feeling his frustration grow. He’s already at his wits’ end when his situation becomes infinitely worse.
He hears a loud pop, and for a second, he actually thinks he found the damn door. So he spins around, hoping to see it open, but what greets him instead makes his blood run cold.
“Sephiroth!” he growls, already reaching for his sword…
…but of course, it isn’t there.
He curses under his breath, hands balling into fists.
“Cloud,” Sephiroth purrs, unconcerned about Cloud’s fury.
Hearing his voice for the first time in years immediately makes Cloud shiver. He hates it. That infuriating lilt that almost sounds like flirting. The smug confidence underneath it. The way his name rolls off Sephiroth’s tongue.
The sound washes over Cloud’s eardrums like liquid honey, and he wants to leave, now more than ever.
“What the fuck did you do this time?” he demands, feeling trapped, feeling cornered by this man he never expected to see again.
He is without a weapon or a means of escape, but for the first time in years, Cloud feels alive. The rage pulsing through his veins leaves him with a sense of purpose, teetering on the edge of violence.
He refuses to admit how thrilling that feels.
Sephiroth, on the other hand, sounds almost bored when he says, “This isn’t my doing.”
“Yeah, right! As if I’d believe that!”
Cloud wants to turn this into a fight. Which is stupid since he’s unarmed, but it’s the only thing that would make this situation bearable. He cannot stand to be around Sephiroth otherwise.
Unfortunately, the infuriating bastard refuses to cooperate. He ignores Cloud and moves to stand by the wall, studying it, just as Cloud had. He glances around the room slowly, curiously, taking in his surroundings.
“Why is there no door?” he asks, and it immediately makes Cloud bristle.
“How the fuck should I know?! It’s not like I misplaced it before you arrived!”
Sephiroth rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t engage, still refusing to give Cloud the fight he wants.
Cloud considers punching him.
“Well, if there’s no door, we should make one.”
Sephiroth extends his hand in a familiar gesture. Cloud has seen it enough times to know precisely what it means, so he tenses and waits for Masamune to appear, trying not to dwell on the fact that he will soon be alone and unnamed, trapped in a tiny room, with his mortal enemy brandishing a deadly weapon.
They both wait as seconds tick by. A long, long stretch of seconds… yet nothing happens.
Sephiroth clears his throat and repeats the motion. He does it with more force this time, but the result is the same. His hand remains empty.
“Performance issues?” Cloud asks, and Sephiroth shoots him a nasty glare.
In a different setting, Cloud would have loved this. It would have made him laugh openly, almost gleefully. Seeing Sephiroth fail is an absolute delight—it satisfies an itch he never even realized was there—but right now, it also means that they’re stuck here. Without a weapon to break down the walls, they have no way of getting out of here.
Sephiroth, however, isn’t done trying.
He activates his materia, and for a second, Cloud thinks this might actually work. A fireball forms in his hand, bright and pulsing, and Cloud’s heart leaps to his throat. The last thing he wants is to see Sephiroth wield fire, but right now, he’s so desperate to get out that the sight of it gives him hope. Sephiroth’s Firaga has enough power to take down these walls; it has enough power to level entire towns. Cloud knows this better than anyone.
But not here; not now.
The fireball dims and fizzles out before he can use it.
Even with all of Sephiroth’s considerable might, it grows no bigger than a marble before dissolving into smoke.
Sephiroth scowls, glaring at own his hand like it offends him. Cloud is dying to make fun of him, but as good as it would feel to gloat right now, he is in no mood for jokes.
“Whatever this place is, it seems to be blocking out magic.”
Sephiroth nods. For once, they’re in agreement. “What about your sword? Did you try to break down the walls?”
“I… uh,” Cloud clears his throat awkwardly, avoiding that penetrating stare, refusing to acknowledge how it makes his skin prickle. “I don’t have it on me,” he admits, and Sephiroth's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.
“You’ve gotten reckless in my absence,” he says, stalking closer. “I’ve left you alone for far too long.”
“I’m not your damn pet!”
“No, not a pet. My puppet,” Sephiroth croons, and something inside Cloud snaps. He grabs the closest thing he can find and hurls it and Sephiroth’s head.
Sephiroth sidesteps easily and grabs the projectile out of the air. He tuts at Cloud with a smirk, treating him like a naughty child. It makes Cloud see red. It makes him want to skin him alive.
But then he looks down at Sephiroth’s hands, and everything stops.
With absolute horror, he realizes he threw a bottle of lube.
“You should buy me dinner first,” Sephiroth mocks, and Cloud wants to die. Blood rushes to his face, sudden and overwhelming, making him feel hot all over.
“Fuck you!” he gasps and cuts across the room, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. The room is too small, however, and the few extra steps barely make a difference. Sephiroth cackles, loving his discomfort, and Cloud desperately wishes he had a sword to run him through.
He opens his mouth to say something scathing, something horrible, but before he can, Sephiroth distracts him.
“What’s that?” he asks, pointing at an envelope lying on the floor. Cloud must have knocked it off the table in his rush to get away, but he has no idea what it is.
When he doesn’t answer, Sephiroth decides to find out for himself. He strides over and picks it up. It is sealed with red wax and stamped with an emblem Cloud does not recognize. It resembles Shinra’s logo, making him wonder if this room is somehow related to them. Perhaps it is an undiscovered remnant of Hojo’s fucked up experiments.
Sephiroth either doesn’t notice the emblem or he doesn’t care because he breaks the seal without a second glance.
The letter consists of a single sheet of paper, no longer than a note, but it is their only clue. Right now, it may as well be the tome of all knowledge, and Cloud can barely breathe as anticipation grips him.
He waits… and waits, but Sephiroth says nothing.
“Well?!” he snaps, unable to bear the suspense any longer. “What does it say?”
With a frown, Sephiroth starts reading:
“Your deepest, darkest secret. Your deepest, darkest shame.
Slyly carried, deeply buried, one you now must name.
Lies and cunning will be punished, do not even try;
Once you own what you want, doors will open wide.”
“Is this a joke?” Cloud asks, trying to snatch the paper out of Sephiroth’s hand, but he pulls it away. “We need to reveal a secret? That’s it?”
“Not just any secret, Cloud. Something we’re ashamed of.”
Cloud rubs the back of his neck, his mind in a tailspin. “Is there anything else in that stupid letter?”
Sephiroth shakes his head. “That’s it.”
“Screw this. I’m not doing it,” Cloud says immediately. He refuses to reveal anything about himself in front of Sephiroth. Secrets are secret for a reason, and this man is the last person who should know them!
Sephiroth’s reaction shocks him, though. There is no anger or attempt to change Cloud’s mind. He simply shrugs, folds the letter, and places it down on the table. He sounds completely unbothered when he says, “It’s up to you, but the note was clear: we won’t be able to leave until one of us reveals something he’s ashamed of. And Cloud?” he says pointedly, looking straight into his eyes, “It will have to be you.”
The finality in his voice makes Cloud’s blood boil.
“Oh, yeah? Why me?” he demands, squaring his shoulders, preparing for a fight once more.
“Because I’ve never done anything I’m ashamed of.”
Cloud hurls the table at his head before he can stop himself. It splinters against the wall, shattering into pieces. His hands shake, and he cannot stop them. He hates this man more than anything in the world.
Sephiroth brushes a few errant wood chips off his sleeve, infuriatingly unruffled. “You can be angry all you want, but that’s simply how it is.”
Cloud glowers at him, absolutely livid. “What makes you think I have things I’m ashamed of? Maybe I have nothing to reveal either!”
Sephiroth shrugs once more, still so damn unflappable, and slowly makes his way to the bed. He lies down, making himself comfortable, and says, “Then we best get used to this place, because we’re not going anywhere.”
“This is insane,” Cloud whispers, rubbing his tired eyes. He can feel a migraine throbbing behind his temples. “How long can they even keep us here? There’s no food or water. We’ll starve if we stay locked in here for days!”
As if on cue, a new table appears in the center of the room, right where the old one used to be. It’s laden with food and all sorts of beverages—alcoholic and nonalcoholic alike. Cloud gapes at it in disbelief.
“Hello?! Is someone listening?” he demands, glaring at the ceiling. He takes a quick sweep around the room, looking for hidden cameras or microphones, but he finds none. Chest heaving, feeling like a caged animal, he slams his fist against the wall, channeling his frustration. “You’ll pay for this, whoever you are!”
Sephiroth leans back against the headboard and yawns. Fucking yawns! His attitude only incites Cloud further.
“How can you be so fucking calm?! Doesn’t this bother you?”
“Not particularly,” Sephiroth says, and Cloud wishes he had something else to throw at him.
“What would I achieve by getting upset, Cloud? I don’t think anyone is listening to us. I think this room is programmed to respond to certain verbal cues, that’s all. Besides,” he says, stretching languidly like a giant cat, crossing his legs at the ankles, “the Lifestream is dreadfully boring. After I absorbed all knowledge, there was nothing left for me to do. I’m in no hurry to get back.”
“I’ll send you right back,” Cloud mutters under his breath as he sits down on the floor.
Sephiroth looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “What are you doing down there?”
“What does it look like? Did you expect me to stand until we find a way out?”
Sephiroth rolls his eyes. “Well I certainly didn’t expect you to sit on the floor.”
“Where else am I supposed to sit? I’m sure as hell not sharing the bed with you!”
“Oh, I see. So I take it you’re also planning to sleep on the floor? Perhaps standing up, like a chocobo?”
Clout turns beet red, both from anger and embarrassment. “Better than sharing the bed with a snake!”
“In that case, I hope you’re comfortable down there because we don’t know how long it’ll take us to get out. We could be stuck here for days, even weeks.”
Cloud shudders at the thought. He cannot imagine spending weeks in this tiny room with Sephiroth of all people. They haven’t even been here an hour, and he’s already driving Cloud up the wall. A whole week would leave him certifiably insane.
The worst thing is that Sephiroth clearly has no intention to help. Cloud will have to figure this out on his own.
The thing is, he really, really doesn’t want to reveal any of his secrets in front of Sephiroth.
Opening up to people has never been easy for Cloud, even when it came to his friends. There are countless little things he never told them about himself; thoughts and feelings he has never shared.
Revealing something deeply personal or embarrassing in front of Sephiroth is downright unthinkable.
But then he gets an idea: he could lie.
If he shares a fake secret, who is to know?
The letter warned against lying, but that’s the thing about secrets—you’re the only one who knows the truth.
Cloud nods to himself slowly, feeling hopeful for the first time since he arrived. He closes his eyes and tries to come up with a plausible lie. A dark, shameful secret a person might want to hide.
The poem mentioned something about wants, probably speaking of desires, but Cloud resolutely ignores that part. All he wants is to get out of here. That is his one and only desire.
It doesn’t take long to come up with a lie.
“A year ago, I ran over a man. I hid his body in the bushes and drove away. I never told anyone.”
He stands up and scans the walls, waiting for a door to appear.
Any second now! Any second…
A few feet away, Sephiroth is still lounging on the bed, observing silently. He doesn’t seem to have much faith in Cloud’s plan, but Cloud doesn’t let that stop him.
When he hears a loud rumble, and the room starts to shake, a huge grin splits across his face. It feels like a mighty earthquake, making him stumble and lose his footing, but he keeps grinning, certain that he’s done it. He’s more than ready to leave!
But instead of revealing a door, instead of granting him freedom, the walls move inward, closing in on them.
The bed screeches against the floorboards as the it is pushed toward the center of the room, leaving ugly scratch marks on the floor.
The tremors last no more than a few seconds, but once they stop, the room is visibly smaller.
“What the fuck?” Cloud gasps in disbelief, pushing at the nearest wall, but it refuses to budge.
A new letter appears on the table, and Cloud lunges for it immediately. He rips it open without a second thought.
“Lying incurs a penalty. Fake secrets lead to smaller rooms.”
At least it’s not another poem, he thinks hysterically, staring at the paper in disbelief. He crumples it into a ball and throws it at the wall.
“I can’t believe you actually expected that to work,” Sephiroth says in a bored voice, and Cloud regrets not aiming for his head.
“Shut up.”
“Any other bright ideas, Cloud?”
“Seriously, shut up! Or better yet, do something to help!”
Sephiroth smirks. “Now why would I do that when I’m having so much fun watching you fail?”
Cloud lets out a string of the filthiest curses known to man, while Sephiroth looks on with a sardonic smile. He is, beyond any shadow of a doubt, the most infuriating man alive! He makes Cloud’s blood boil.
Unfortunately, Cloud has nothing left to throw at him, so he decides to ignore him. He has more important things to focus on, anyway.
He has to come up with a secret.
Since lying is out of the question, it means that Cloud will have to share an actual secret in front of Sephiroth… and that poses a serious problem. The last thing he wants is to give that bastard any kind of power over him. Sephiroth already acts like he knows everything; like he knows Cloud better than he knows himself. Cloud cannot even imagine how smug he will be if he learns something truly embarrassing.
No… that is absolutely out of the question.
But that leaves Cloud with very few options. He doesn’t have that many secrets to begin with. He doesn’t like to broadcast his feelings to the world, that much is true, but there aren’t many things he’s actually ashamed of. Nothing he’s actively trying to hide.
Except… Well. There is one secret that fits all the necessary conditions to a t, but Cloud refuses to even consider it. He would rather die here of old age than admit that in front of Sephiroth.
There has to be something else.
Cloud racks his brain for hours, slowly driving himself insane, yet he still comes up with nothing.
In his desperation, he starts looking for loopholes.
Lies are not allowed; but what about half-truths? Maybe it’s enough to admit to something bad, yet not truly awful. Regrets, instead of shame. Cloud has those in abundance.
After a few hours, he convinces himself it’s worth a try.
He takes a deep breath, clears his throat, and speaks again. “Countless people died because I wasn’t strong enough. If I’d stopped Sephiroth sooner, they all would have lived. I’ll never forgive myself.”
The words burn on the way out, and his lungs contract. He’s only ever admitted this once, to Tifa, after several beers had left his head spinning. Even then, the words cost him a lot, and he regretted them instantly when he saw grief and pity swirling in Tifa’s eyes. He never brought it up again.
Until now.
He refuses to look at Sephiroth, too afraid of what he might find. Tifa’s pity was bad enough, but seeing Sephiroth gloat would destroy him. He doesn’t want to give this bastard the satisfaction of knowing how badly he had hurt him.
Cloud hates revealing such personal things to Sephiroth, but he tries to remind himself this a necessary sacrifice in order to escape. It will all be worth it, just as long as he can get out of here.
He waits, hoping and praying for the door to open, feeling the weight of Sephiroth’s gaze upon his back.
And then, finally, that ominous rumble, deafening like thunder! The walls shudder, shaking and swaying before moving inward once more.
“Fuck!” Cloud curses, kicking the wall, as if that will stop it from advancing.
Another envelope appears on the table. “Guilt is not the same as shame,” it says, and Cloud wants to scream.
It feels like everything in here is trying to mock him.
“What the hell do you want?!” he yells at no one in particular, but of course, it is Sephiroth who answers.
“I think the demands were quite clear.”
“And I think I told you to shut up!”
Sephiroth scoffs, but keeps his mouth blessedly shut, and Cloud thanks the gods for small mercies. The last thing he needs is to hear the bastard’s voice. He’s stressed enough as it is.
He scratches his head, the panic creeping up his spine. It feels like the world is closing in on him—both literally and figuratively. He doesn’t know what the hell he is supposed to do. He’s just admitted something deeply personal in front of his mortal enemy, and for what? They’re still stuck here. Meanwhile, the bastard is probably having the time of his life, loving the thought of Cloud suffering because of him.
What is he doing, anyway?
Cloud’s curiosity gets the better of him, and he regrets it immediately. Chancing a glance at Sephiroth, he finds him fiddling with something bright pink and sizeable. The object makes a strange buzzing noise, and Cloud freezes.
“What the hell are you doing now?”
“Finding ways to entertain myself,” Sephiroth drawls, and Cloud makes the mistake of looking down at his hands. He nearly chokes on his own tongue when he sees a giant pink vibrator pulsating in Sephiroth’s hand.
Quickly, he turns away, but not fast enough. The room suddenly feels several degrees hotter, and he hates himself for not ignoring Sephiroth as he planned.
Damn him!
Cloud can’t afford these distractions. If Sephiroth wants to play with sex toys—this strange, impossible combination of words forces an unbidden image into his mind, winding him like a punch to the gut—then let him. Cloud has better things to do. He needs to come up with a proper secret.
Unfortunately, that is easier said than done.
Nothing he can think of is good enough. It doesn’t help that he is thoroughly distracted. Every so often, he glances at Sephiroth to see what he’s up to. Luckily, he’s not doing anything sexual. He’s lined up the vibrators on top of the bed, and he’s left them running, buzzing loudly in a irritating cacophony of noise. Cloud suspects he’s doing it just to piss him off, relishing in his obvious discomfort. He knows this because Sephiroth smirks every time he catches Cloud looking.
Over the next few hours, Cloud reveals five more secrets, five facts about himself he never wanted Sephiroth to know, but they’re all rejected. They all fail to satisfy some impossible criteria.
The room is now barely big enough to fit the bed. They can squeeze past it by hugging the wall, but one more mistake, and the bed will be crushed, leaving them with nothing.
The table is long gone, as is the nightstand. If they destroy the bed, they won’t even have a place to sit on anymore.
By now, Cloud is utterly desperate.
All that’s left is that secret, and at this point, he is actually desperate enough to consider it.
He closes his eyes, his heart pounding.
There are only two options here, neither of them good. He can either stay here forever, or reveal his darkest secret to Sephiroth in order to escape his presence. It is an impossible choice. Cloud would rather endure lifetimes of torture than be forced to make it.
He reminds himself that getting out of here is his main concern. As soon as he does, he can kill Sephiroth and make him take this secret to his grave.
Or the Lifestream, whatever.
Cloud hypes himself up, telling himself that this is the logical thing to do, no matter how terrifying it may be.
He takes a few deep, shuddering breaths, his body strumming with tension, and opens his mouth.
It snaps shut when Sephiroth grabs his arm.
“Careful now,” he warns. “You better be certain this time. There’s no more margin for error.”
Cloud looks down at his hand, at the fingers pressing into his skin like brands. The grip is not painful at all, yet it burns through Cloud’s skin, down to his very soul.
He swallows thickly.
He hasn’t been around Sephiroth this long without them trying to kill each other since he was a trooper. It’s making him stupid. And the longer it lasts, the worse it gets. Cloud needs to get out of here as soon as possible.
Spending time with Sephiroth in this amicable, almost friendly atmosphere isn’t normal. It’s messing with Cloud’s head. He needs to step back, reestablish boundaries, and remember that he hates this man.
This man, who’s been holding onto his arm for what feels like an eternity.
Cloud wrenches it away and moves back, putting as much distance between them as possible.
“I’m sure,” he says gruffly.
“Just like you were the last five times?”
“I’m sure,” he snaps sharply, but Sephiroth still doesn’t look convinced. With a mocking little bow, he gives Cloud the go-ahead.
“By all means, then.”
He’s so annoying and infuriating that for a second, Cloud actually considers lying. For one crazy moment, he wants the walls to close in and crush him and put him out of his misery, just so he wouldn’t have to reveal the truth in front of this bastard.
His palms are sweating, his heart racing so fast that he can hear blood pulsing in his ears. It’s making him dizzy. There’s a giant lump in his throat that makes him feel like he swallowed a Materia, and his tongue is heavy like lead.
He turns away from Sephiroth, unable to bear the sight of him. He refuses to give Sephiroth the satisfaction of seeing his face when he finally reveals this secret. Still, he can feel those mako eyes boring holes into his back.
Cloud balls his hands into fists, but even so, he can’t stop them from shaking.
It is ridiculous, really.
He has faced death more times than he can count, saved the Planet from certain destruction, defied the odds again and again, yet even at his lowest he was never this afraid. This terrified.
“My secret,” he starts, but his voice cracks, so he clears his throat and tries again. “My secret is that it’s all fake. The hate. The anger. It is all a lie I keep telling myself and others. The truth is that my feelings never changed. Even after everything.” He squeezes his eyes shut and swallows thickly, sounding pained. “To this day, I still want him. I want things I never… Unforgivable things. And it’s killing me. I’ve never been more ashamed of anything in my life.”
His voice trails off in a whisper, his thoughts a jumble. He’s shaking so much, he has no idea what he even said. He can only pray that it will be enough.
Yet despite the panic and the chaos in his head, one thing he is sure of—he never mentioned Sephiroth by name. He clings to it like a lifeline. If Sephiroth ever asks, Cloud will deny it until his dying breath. He will lie and say it was about Zack, or Hojo even; anyone other than Sephiroth himself.
Cloud has never admitted this to anyone, and now that the words are out, he’s dying to see Sephiroth’s expression, to peek into his eyes for any hint of what he might be feeling. But Cloud can’t bring himself to turn around. It’s too terrifying. Mortifying, even. He desperately needs the door so he can flee. So he can get his sword and end Sephiroth without giving him a chance to say anything devastating that would crush Cloud’s spirit for years to come.
Getting mocked for this would destroy him. His shameful feelings are bad enough on their own, even without Sephiroth using them against him.
The room rumbles again, but Cloud can barely hear it over the pounding of his own heart. He’s still leaning against the wall when it slips away, sliding back into its original position. The nightstand and the table, along with everything that was on them, return to their rightful places. A door—plain and unremarkable, yet the most beautiful door Cloud has ever seen—appears on the wall. He breathes a sigh of relief.
The ordeal is finally over.
Without a word, without even acknowledging Sephiroth, Cloud makes a beeline for it, desperate to get away.
But his life is never that simple.
Strong arms seize him from behind, fingers twisting into his shirt. He’s spun around and slammed against the wall. Sephiroth looms over him, suddenly only inches away, his eyes like liquid fire, fierce and bright.
“You expect me to let you leave? After all that?”
“Damn right I do!” Cloud bucks against him, shoving at his chest, but Sephiroth is like a mountain, immovable. “Let go!”
Sephiroth does the opposite; he grabs Cloud’s wrists and pins them above his head.
“I never knew you felt this way, Cloud,” he purrs, crowding him, crushing him against the wall, overwhelming him. His scent is heady, almost as delicious as the weight of his body.
Cloud has spent years imagining what that broad chest would feel like against his own, but the reality is beyond anything his mind could come up with.
“I never said it was you!”
It is a futile lie, and Sephiroth sees right through it. He laughs.
“Oh? Who is it about, then? Who else are you pretending to hate?” His free hand curls around Cloud’s hip, holding him in place as he grinds their lower bodies together. “Is there someone else you desire? Because let me tell you right now—I do not share.”
Sephiroth bites his neck, making him, staking his claim like a fucking animal, and Cloud’s knees nearly buckle. He tries to hold back his gasps, but he fails miserably. They turn into strangled moans, needy and desperate. How humiliating! Cloud wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
He tries to push Sephiroth away, but it’s useless. The more he struggles, the more Sephiroth seems to enjoy it.
Still, it’s not like Cloud couldn’t fight back. Not really. Even without a weapon, he’s pretty sure he could subdue Sephiroth long enough to make it to the door. The problem is that he can’t force his own body to obey him. His traitorous hands slip around Sephiroth’s neck, clutching, pulling, tugging him closer instead of pushing him away.
“Stop,” he pleads, but predictably, Sephiroth doesn’t. He covers Cloud’s neck with scorching kisses, sucking and biting. They’re hungry and brutal, dismantling all of his defenses.
“Fuck,” Cloud whimpers as teeth sink deeper into his skin, his knees trembling.
The sound makes Sephiroth’s lips curl into a smirk, and Cloud wants to kick him in the balls. Smug fucking bastard… He will pay for this!
Just… not right now.
“Oh, Cloud,” Sephiroth purrs between kisses, his hot breaths sending shivers down Cloud’s spine. “You’re always so full of surprises.”
He sounds positively delighted as he devours Cloud’s neck, shoving his knee between Cloud’s thighs to rub against his crotch. Cloud’s brain short-circuits. His hips buck against Sephiroth’s leg, grinding urgently, desperately, and he hates himself for it.
“No,” he moans, his mind drifting, lost in a haze of desire, while he struggles to collect his scattered thoughts. It is a herculean effort, but eventually, he recovers enough willpower to push Sephiroth away.
“No,” he repeats more firmly, actually sounding like he means it this time, but it changes nothing. Sephiroth still refuses to hear him. He grabs Cloud’s arm and throws him onto the bed like a rag doll.
Cloud lands on the mattress with a soft oof, and immediately rolls over onto his back. When he looks up, Sephiroth is already there, pouncing on him, straddling him. He pins Cloud’s wrists above his head and kisses him, pouring some strange liquid down his throat.
The kiss is wild and aggressive, preventing Cloud from spitting it out. He tries not to choke as he swallows.
It tastes tangy and sweet, and it could be poison for all Cloud knows, but all he can think about is the fact that Sephiroth is kissing him. He never imagined something like this could happen outside of his dreams and fantasies.
Cloud’s lips tingle as they part, as he feels the liquid burn its way down his throat. It sits in his stomach like a searing ball of fire.
“What the hell was that?”
“Just a little something to help you relax,” Sephiroth replies with an ominous smile, and Cloud feels a chill seep into his bones.
He glances at the nightstand, then at Sephiroth, horrified.
“You didn’t!”
“Let’s give it a few minutes to kick in,” Sephiroth says, trailing a hand suggestively down Cloud’s torso.
“Why?”
Why drug me when you already know I want you?
Why have sex with me at all?
What do you hope to achieve?
But all those questions are too embarrassing, and Cloud can’t bring himself to ask them. As always with Sephiroth, this has to be some power play. It is not enough for Cloud to simply want him; he needs to be in control. To make Cloud unable to refuse. He probably doesn’t even want this. He’s just getting off on the thought of having Cloud at his mercy.
Rage and shame choke Cloud, but his body still reacts. His skin prickles, covered in a sheen of sweat, blood turning into molten lava. It must be because of the damn drug, he decides as his cock hardens without even being touched.
Still, Cloud refuses to give in. With an angry growl, he bucks against Sephiroth, trying to dislodge him.
“Shh. Relax, Cloud. Why are you fighting me when I’m about to make your dreams come true?”
Sephiroth’s fingers slip beneath Cloud’s shirt, lifting it up and off, leaving him naked from the waist up. He examines him like he wants to devour him, eyes raking over every inch of exposed skin, and Cloud whimpers. He feels like a petrified chocobo in the clutches of a ruthless snake.
This is going to be humiliating, he can already tell.
“No running,” Sephiroth murmurs as he takes Cloud’s belt off. He wraps the cold leather around his wrists and secures them to the headboard. Cloud is powerless to stop it. His mind refuses to accept that any of this is real. And now, he’s captured, bound to the bed, unable to escape even if he wanted to. He jerks his arms, but it only makes the leather cut deeper into his skin.
“You’re gorgeous when you’re squirming helplessly at my mercy.”
Damn you!
Cloud tries to glare, but all he can do is sob when Sephiroth’s fingers hone in on a nipple and twist.
“Don’t touch me!”
Sephiroth chuckles, rolling the little nub between his fingers, feasting his eyes on the flush spreading across Cloud’s skin, gloating when he sees him respond to his touch.
A hand slides up and wraps around Cloud’s throat.
“I can do anything I want, Cloud. You’re mine now.”
The grip tightens to the point of pain, blocking Cloud’s airways, leaving him even more lightheaded. The room starts spinning before him. He squirms, struggling to get oxygen into his lungs, but it is impossible. The edges of his vision grow dark, his consciousness ebbing away, and it is only then that Sephiroth relaxes his hold, granting him air.
Cloud gasps, taking in large gulps of air, his chest heaving, nearly choking on oxygen. Sephiroth studies him with a smile. “What a perfectly malleable plaything you are. A gift for me to enjoy.”
“Fuck you,” Cloud spits.
“Not yet, puppet. You have to earn it first.”
The word rocks Cloud to his core. He’s always hated being called that, but there’s something different about the way Sephiroth says it now. Almost like flirting; like a fucking endearment. Cloud doesn’t know what to make of it, but it affects him way more than he would like. More than he ever imagined it could.
Sephiroth bears down on him, and for the first time, Cloud can feel his cock pressing into his side. He is already hard, and dear gods, he’s huge.
Cloud trembles at the thought of having that thing inside of him, and assures himself this feeling is revulsion.
But even he no longer believes such lies.
Sephiroth watches him squirm, eyeing the throbbing bulge in his pants, and Cloud knows there’s no way for him to hide how affected he is. How badly he craves this.
“When I called you empty, I had no idea how dire it was. I did not realize just how badly you needed to be filled.”
Cloud bucks under him, pulling on his restraints, his hands aching.
“Patience, puppet. I will give you what you need soon enough.”
“No… stop,” Cloud demands, but his voice is weak, barely a whisper, and Sephiroth only laughs.
“Stop? Oh no, Cloud. We’re just getting started.”
His dominant hand drifts down and cups Cloud’s cock through his pants. He’s already achingly, embarrassingly hard, and the touch makes him whimper, his hips jerking involuntarily.
“Look at you,” Sephiroth croons. “So aroused, yet you still deny it. Still trying to fight me. Perhaps you actually get off on the idea of me forcing you.”
Cloud gapes at him, utterly mortified. He feels stripped raw, exposed like never before.
He would rather die than admit it, but… it is true.
It’s not just the thought of being with Sephiroth that does it for him. He wants to be dominated, maybe even forced. All of his fantasies were based around violence; succumbing to desire in the heat of battle, bloody and wounded. He’s always imagined sex with Sephiroth as pleasure laced with pain.
Besides, his guilt is so strong that even in his fantasies he couldn’t imagine having sex with Sephiroth without being forced. No matter how much he wanted it.
But he’ll never admit that!
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You arrogant bastard! You think you got me all figured out, but I’m only in this state because of the shit you poured down my throat!”
“Right, of course,” Sephiroth says with a patronizing chuckle, and Cloud vows not to give him the pleasure of seeing him come.
As Sephiroth’s hand moves over him, though, he fears it’s already a losing battle. And it just keeps getting worse.
Sephiroth takes Cloud’s discarded shirt and uses it to blindfold him. All sensations intensify. Being bound, blind, and half-naked in the presence of his greatest enemy is absolutely terrifying…
…and incredibly arousing.
Cloud grits his teeth, expecting pain. A nervous flutter runs through him at the thought of Sephiroth claiming him roughly, with no preparation.
What happens next is worse—so much worse—for it isn’t pain but pleasure that assails him.
Something soft sweeps down his body, from his neck, to his chest, all the way down to his navel. It tickles, and Cloud gasps, trembling at the intensity of the unexpected sensation.
It is a feather, he realizes, jerking against his restraints.
Every stroke leaves his skin electrified, and even though it is soft and barely there, to Cloud it feels like being zapped with a thousand-volt current, a million thunderbolts slamming into him all at once. The feather swirls around his erect nipples, drawing moans from his parted lips.
The knowledge that it’s probably one of Sephiroth’s own feathers moving across his skin, leaving fire in its wake, makes everything infinitely worse.
It flits across Cloud’s skin in a deeply intimate caress, seemingly everywhere at once. Or maybe that’s Sephiroth’s hair falling over his torso, soft as silk.
Cloud is hyperaware of every inch of his body; of the cold leather digging into his wrists, the sheets tangling around his feet, the blood rushing through his veins. It all feels overwhelming right now.
He shudders, twitching and squirming, simultaneously moving closer and pulling away. But there is nowhere to go; no mercy to be found. Sephiroth’s touch and scent and voice are everywhere.
“Do you like this?” Sephiroth asks, running the feather over Cloud’s abs, making him writhe. “Or would you prefer to be degraded? To be owned?”
He sounds like he already knows the answer, and Cloud wants to kick his teeth in.
The trouble is that he also sounds so incredibly, infuriatingly hot.
“Who do you belong to, Cloud?” he purrs, and Cloud’s body responds, arching into his touch before he can stop it.
“Certainly… not… you!”
“Wrong answer.”
Sephiroth’s teeth clamp over a nipple without warning, making Cloud howl. It is the most humiliating sound that has ever come out of his mouth, and they’re just getting started!
Sephiroth’s hands grip his sides, pinning him to the bed, preventing him from moving, while his tongue and teeth attack him without mercy. In this, as with everything else, Sephiroth shows no restraint. He is determined to get what he wants.
He growls when Cloud tries to squirm away, gripping tighter, sucking on Cloud’s nipple until it’s raw and aching.
“Stop! Stop,” Cloud sobs, but it only spurs Sephiroth on.
The tension between them builds and crests, and when Sephiroth rocks his hips and rubs his giant cock against Cloud’s, Cloud comes on the spot, soiling his pants.
He wants to die.
“I… hate… you,” he gasps, struggling to catch his breath, the fireworks still going off behind his eyelids.
“That was fast,” Sephiroth says smugly, rubbing it in. He sounds like he won the fucking lottery. Cloud despises him! “Must have been very pent up. Or were you just that desperate for me to touch you?”
The truth hits too close to home, and Cloud cannot stand it. “Enough! You had your fun, now let me go.”
“Let you go? Oh Cloud, we’re nowhere near done.”
Sephiroth grinds his rock-hard cock against Cloud, making him bite his lips to hold back his moans. The thought of Sephiroth getting so turned on by him is almost too much to bear. He wishes his hands were free, so he could touch him, so he could…
No!
“Just fuck me already and get it over with!” Cloud tries to sound authoritative, but it’s a difficult thing to do when he’s bound and blindfolded, covered in his own come.
“Not so fast, puppet. I told you, you’ll have to earn it.” Fingers curl around his throat once more, and Cloud shivers. “You’ll have to beg for it.”
Cloud’s stomach plummets, his cheeks burning. “You must be out of your mind. I’ll never beg! Never!”
“We’ll see.”
Sephiroth yanks his pants down roughly, and it takes Cloud a second to realize that he removed everything.
Cool air kisses his skin, making him shiver. He’s fully naked now in front of his enemy, and he’s never felt more vulnerable in his life. He still can’t see, and he desperately wishes he could. Especially the expression on Sephiroth’s face.
Does he like what he sees? Is he disappointed? Perhaps he’s merely bored.
Nothing happens for a few seconds, and it feels like eons. Cloud waits, unsure what to expect. He strains his ears for any kind of clue, but there is nothing but silence.
What is Sephiroth doing? What’s the holdup?
He’s still there, though. Cloud can feel him looming over him.
Perhaps he’s watching, stroking himself to the sight of Cloud bound and naked before him.
Arousal rushes through Cloud at the thought, so strong it leaves him winded. Desperately, he wishes he could see.
He flinches when Sephiroth’s hands settle on his thighs, the touch surprising but not unwelcome.
No, he corrects himself quickly. It is unwelcome. It is vile and revolting!
Yet Cloud’s cock still twitches when Sephiroth’s fingers inch closer to his groin.
“Spread your legs,” Sephiroth orders, and Cloud locks his knees together just to spite him.
He is already growing hard again, and he blames Sephiroth and that damn concoction he made him drink. It must have been a very potent drug because Cloud feels insatiable!
Sephiroth shifts on the bed, and Cloud keeps his legs closed, prepared to fight him every step of the way. But to his surprise, Sephiroth never tries to pry them apart. His hair tickles Cloud’s thighs while his hands run down his sides possessively.
Cloud jolts when something hot and wet engulfs his cock, and pleasure tears through him like a sword.
It takes him a moment to comprehend that it must be Sephiroth’s mouth on him, and he keens.
Holy shit, he thinks. This cannot be real!
But it is.
Sephiroth is blowing him, licking the juices off his cock, smacking his lips obscenely.
Cloud sobs and spreads his legs wide, no longer able to deny him. He digs his heels into the mattress and thrusts deeper into that moist heat, feeling giddy when Sephiroth lets him.
How pathetic!
Even with his mouth full, Sephiroth’s lips stretch into a smirk, probably gloating at the sight of Cloud so out of control.
This time, when Sephiroth pushes his knees apart, Cloud does not resist. He does not resist when Sephiroth hikes his legs over his shoulders, nor when his fingers move down his thighs, closer to his center.
The calloused digits are shockingly gentle. They’re already slick when they find Cloud’s entrance and circle it in slow, tantalizing strokes.
Cloud hates it; he absolutely loathes it!
Violence he could handle, but this… this tenderness is unbearable!
“Just fuck me already!” he roars as a finger sinks into him torturously slowly. It wiggles and curls, making his insides clench.
“What’s the rush, Cloud? I thought you didn’t want this?” The fingers stretch his walls, scissoring. “Or are you finally done pretending?”
Cloud hates him with every fiber of his being.
“I just want to be free of you!”
“You’ll never be free of me,” Sephiroth says, pressing kisses to his inner thighs, making his legs quiver. Teeth scrape over delicate skin, and Cloud sobs—a pathetic, needy sound he never thought himself capable of. “You know what you need to do if you want me to fuck you.”
Cloud refuses to beg.
No matter what, he will keep at least this last shred of his dignity.
He will!
And so the torture continues.
Sephiroth’s fingers move in and out of him, leaving him loose and wanting, fully hard once more. With every stroke of his fingers, Cloud’s cock twitches against his stomach, weeping and desperate. If Sephiroth keeps this up, he’ll make Cloud come again, and he’ll never live it down!
But that is exactly what Sephiroth aims to do.
He takes Cloud back into his mouth, redoubling his efforts, swallowing hungrily. His fingers—three of them now—ram into Cloud faster and faster, while he relaxes his throat and hums. The assault comes from all sides, and it’s too much!
The man’s name crawls its way up Cloud’s throat and rolls around his mouth, desperate to turn into a pleading moan, but Cloud bites his tongue to stop it. He groans and resists, no matter how futile it may be.
Sephiroth’s fingers set a punishing pace, making pleasure explode inside Cloud every time they brush against his prostate. They are relentless! There is absolutely nothing Cloud can do to change what happens next.
With a shattering scream, he explodes down Sephiroth’s throat, his toes curling. He jerks his hips, wishing he could use his hands to hold Sephiroth down and make him swallow every last drop, to make him pay for what he did. But he can’t, so he just grinds against Sephiroth’s mouth, shamelessly finding pleasure at the hands of his enemy.
Sephiroth groans around him, swallowing, gorging on his essence. He drains him until Cloud is spent, then licks him clean, lapping at the head of his cock until Cloud’s whole body starts trembling from overstimulation.
“Enough!” he begs, and for once, Sephiroth actually listens. He moves away, and Cloud begins to hope this might finally be over. But he couldn’t be more wrong.
Sephiroth flips him onto his stomach and shoves his face into the pillow. It muffles him, nearly suffocating him.
He hears a low buzzing sound, and all the remaining air rushes out of him.
“What are you doing?” he whispers urgently.
Sephiroth answers by shoving a vibrator straight into his already abused hole.
Cloud cries, arching back, squirming desperately, but there is no escape. He bites the pillow to stop himself from screaming. Drool dribbles down his chin.
Sephiroth leans over him, hair cascading down Cloud’s back in a sensual caress. His teeth sink into Cloud’s shoulder, the full length of his body pinning him down while the vibrator keeps pulsing inside of him.
Cloud’s soul ascends.
His hips start rolling, rubbing his spent cock against the sheets until it starts to harden yet again.
How is this even possible, he wonders, sobbing wantonly.
Maybe it’s this place, where time doesn’t seem to matter; maybe it’s the drug Sephiroth gave him.
Or maybe it’s the long stretch of years Cloud has spent yearning for this man.
This bastard who sees everything.
“Already hard again,” he mocks, squeezing Cloud’s ass, changing the settings on the toy so that it pulses harder. His hand slips beneath Cloud’s body, gripping the base of his cock. Cloud whimpers. “I won’t let you come again until you beg.”
Cloud bites his lips, refusing to make a single sound.
“So stubborn,” Sephiroth murmurs, squeezing Cloud’s cock while the toy continues to vibrate inside him. “If you won’t beg, then at least show me how needy you are. Get yourself off on the mattress while I watch.”
Cloud wants to tell him to go fuck himself, but his body yearns and hungers, and before he can stop himself, he’s already moving, rutting against the sheets. They chafe and burn his cock, but he’s too desperate to care. His prostate has never been stimulated like this, and he cannot take it. All he wants is release. He thrusts frantically, nearly delirious, moaning as the vibrator milks him.
He’s too damn close!
But Sephiroth, ever the sadist, doesn’t let him come. He pulls the vibrator out just before he does, leaving him gaping and empty, clenching around nothing. Cloud sobs, his body convulsing. His hips keep moving at a truly devastating pace, each thrust sending him closer and closer to the edge.
“Sephiroth,” he cries. He means it as a warning, as an order or a threat, but it comes out in the form of a truly broken moan, a wanton cry of a forbidden lover’s name, staining his lips forever.
Sephiroth hums in appreciation. “Never has my name sounded so good. Say it again.”
He traces the rim of Cloud’s gaping hole with the tip of a finger, smirking when he feels it clench. The finger sinks into Cloud’s body down to the first knuckle, but after the vibrator, it’s nowhere near enough.
“Please.”
The word spills from Cloud’s lips, quiet and disgraceful.
“Hm? I didn’t quite catch that, Cloud. You’ll have to speak up.”
Cloud presses back against that sinful finger, trying to push it in deeper, but it won’t budge. Curling slowly, it continues to tease.
Cloud wants to keep fighting this, but what’s the point? He’s already fallen so low; he bared his heart and came twice at Sephiroth’s hand, debasing himself in unimaginable ways. He may as well go all the way and satisfy his deepest, darkest needs.
“Please,” he repeats, louder this time, with more conviction.
“Please, what? Use your words, puppet. Tell me what you want.”
His finger keeps circling Cloud’s entrance, distracting and encouraging at the same time.
“Please… fuck me,” Cloud begs, making his downfall complete.
Sephiroth grabs his blindfold and yanks it off.
Cloud squints, the light suddenly jarring, but it doesn’t take his eyes long to adjust.
Everything is so much worse now that he can see. It feels a lot more real when he can see the hunger in Sephiroth’s eyes, the bulge in his pants, the smug curve of his lips.
“You sound so lovely when you beg,” he says, and Cloud can’t breathe. He trembles with anticipation and shame in equal measure.
At some point Sephiroth must have taken his shirt off because he is naked from the waist up. Cloud stares at his chest, itching to touch it. His wing is curled against his back, but unmissable. Cloud can’t pretend this is the man he used to admire as a child. This is the monster that came after, with his inhuman features on full display. Yet Cloud still wants him. He watches in awe as Sephiroth unzips his pants and takes out his cock, stroking it slowly with his eyes fixed firmly on Cloud.
It is a scene straight out of Cloud’s fantasies. He cannot take his eyes off that cock. It is absolutely gorgeous—veiny and red, with a thick, swollen head.
Cloud swallows, licking his chapped lips.
It doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Kneel,” Sephiroth orders, and stands over him on the bed, his wing extended behind him.
Cloud scrambles to obey, but with his hands still tied, it takes some maneuvering.
Somehow, he still ends up on his knees before his greatest enemy, with his hands bound above his head and Sephiroth’s gorgeous cock dangling in front of his face.
He looks up, and their gazes lock. Sephiroth smirks and slaps his cock against Cloud’s lips, using it to pry them open.
“Who would have thought this was all it took to bring you to your knees.”
Cloud flushes with shame and tries to jerk away, but Sephiroth won’t let him.
“Now, now. Be a good boy, Cloud. Show me how badly you want my cock.”
Sephiroth slides it in deeper, and Cloud considers biting the damn thing off just to teach him a lesson.
But he can’t.
He’s wanted this for so long… and now it’s right there for the taking.
The cock sits heavy on his tongue, and Cloud breathes it in. Its musky scent is too heady, exquisite just like the precome coating his tongue. Cloud moans, swallowing greedily. The taste is intoxicating.
He cannot believe this is all for him; that Sephiroth got hard from watching him. From touching him.
That alone is enough to get him moving.
He takes that beautiful cock deep into his mouth, stretching his lips around its girth. It feels like velvet against Cloud’s tongue, and before he knows it, he is moaning, sucking on it like a man possessed.
He can’t stop watching Sephiroth’s face as he does it. His expressions and his obvious arousal are as addictive as his cock.
Cloud whines, sucking harder, wishing his hands were free so that he could grab Sephiroth’s hips and tug him closer. But Sephiroth needs no invitation. He watches Cloud like a hawk, studying his every reaction. It doesn’t take him long to realize what Cloud needs, so he grabs the back of his head and claims his mouth with complete abandon. Cloud chokes, feeling filthy and used, but his cock throbs yet again, hard enough to burst.
“Look at you,” Sephiroth murmurs, deeply pleased. He groans when he makes contact with the back of Cloud’s throat. “Even when you’re choking on my cock, you still want more.”
Cloud glares with tears in his eyes, but his mouth is too full to argue. At least, that is what he tells himself.
In truth, he has no desire to fight. Not anymore. He’s already decided to let himself have this.
So he closes his eyes and relaxes his throat, letting the sensations guide him. His throat feels raw by the time Sephiroth is done with him, yet even so, when he steps away, Cloud’s mouth chases him, greedy for more. A long string of precome keeps them connected.
Cloud licks his lips, following it like a lure, letting it reel him in, but the knowing look Sephiroth gives him makes him shrivel in shame.
Sephiroth shoves him back down and settles between his legs, kicking them apart. Even he is slightly flushed by now, and the color suits him, Cloud decides, staring at him in disbelief.
It’s still impossible to believe any of this is real.
Sephiroth’s hands run down his body as they stare into each other’s eyes. His touch is gentle and slow, and this feels far more romantic than it has any right to. Unease grips Cloud, sharp and overwhelming. He tries to roll over onto his stomach, but Sephiroth stops him.
“Aren’t you gonna… from the back?” he asks in a small, trembling voice.
“Why? So you can pretend I forced you?” Sephiroth brushes the back of his hand over Cloud’s weeping cock, making him sob. “No, Cloud. I refuse to play along with that little fantasy.”
He enters Cloud slowly, too slowly, in painfully tender increments.
Cloud’s mouth falls open in a silent scream.
“I want you to watch as I fuck you and know that it is me. I want you to come screaming my name, so that you can never deny how much you want me.”
Cloud whines and turns away, but Sephiroth grabs his chin and forces his head back.
“Eyes on me, puppet.”
They’re still staring into each other’s eyes when Sephiroth bottoms out and Cloud feels like dying. He falls into those boundless mako depths and drowns in them. He cannot get out. Not ever. But the gaze in Sephiroth’s eyes, the expression on his face, is uniquely special. It is not smug like Cloud expected it to be. It is not soft or affectionate either, but there is something dark and possessive in it that makes Cloud feel owned.
“Sephiroth,” he whines, unable to stop himself, and Sephiroth leans down to kiss him. It is hungry and wild, untamed just like the man himself.
Without breaking the kiss, he starts moving, and pleasure consumes Cloud like wildfire.
Sephiroth is huge, but Cloud was so thoroughly prepared that it doesn’t hurt at all. He wishes it would, though. Sex with Sephiroth was never supposed to be like this. They were supposed to rip each other apart, biting and scratching, kicking and screaming. These gentle kisses were never part of the plan. They destroy Cloud worse than any pain could have.
He bucks against his restraints, desperately trying to pick up the pace; Sephiroth reaches for his wrists.
“We don’t need these anymore, do we?”
He cuts the belt, leaving Cloud unbound but naked, with his greatest enemy on top of him. Inside of him.
This could be Cloud’s last chance to get away. Sephiroth knows this too, so he studies him, waiting for his next move, and Cloud…
Cloud uses his newfound freedom to grab fistfuls of Sephiroth’s hair and yank him down for a scorching kiss. They both groan as they come together, all tongues and teeth.
Sephiroth starts moving again, and this time, he is no longer gentle. There is no more teasing, no playing around. There is only raw hunger consuming them both.
Still, it is not enough.
Cloud wants Sephiroth to break him. To make this a night he will never forget.
“Harder,” he orders, or begs—even he can’t tell anymore. His legs wrap around Sephiroth’s waist, heels digging into his ass, urging him to move faster. But the bastard won’t!
“How long have you wanted this, hm? Even as you chased me around the world? Did you touch yourself thinking of me, hiding beneath the sheets, stifling your cries with your friends in the same room?” He snaps his hips, and Cloud can only moan, eyes rolling back in pleasure. “I should have made you mine years ago.”
Sephiroth hikes his legs higher, changing angles, setting a truly punishing pace. Cloud’s head falls back, his spine arching.
“You are mine, Cloud. You belong to me. Never forget that.”
Cloud whimpers, clawing at his back. “Harder. Harder!”
“No,” Sephiroth says with a wicked smile. Sheathed fully inside Cloud, he stops moving and starts licking his nipples instead, sending ripples of pleasure through his body. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
His teeth sink into Cloud’s nipple, already tender from what he had done to it before, and Cloud’s patience snaps.
He loops Sephiroth’s hair around his forearm and tugs as hard as he can.
The attack is too sudden, taking Sephiroth unawares. He falls forward, grunting in pain. He’s distracted enough that he doesn’t fight back when Cloud rolls them over and settles on his waist.
Their positions are suddenly reversed; Sephiroth is lying on his back, with Cloud sitting on top of him. He looks shocked, and a little guarded, and it occurs to Cloud that Sephiroth probably thinks he’s running away. It also occurs to him that he probably should.
But they’re way past that now. Leaving is the last thing Cloud wants to do.
With a truly obscene moan, he leans forward, resting his palms on Sephiroth’s chest, lifts his ass until only the tip of Sephiroth’s cock is still inside him, then slams it back down, making them both groan. Sephiroth’s hands fly to his hips, clutching, encouraging, holding him in place while he starts to thrust into him from below.
Cloud throws his head back, surrendering to pleasure. He keeps bouncing on Sephiroth’s cock, taking it deeper and deeper with every plunge. He never imagined letting loose like this in front of Sephiroth, but desire consumes him.
“Oh, puppet. If only you could see yourself now. How gorgeous you are.”
“Sephiroth,” Cloud moans the name like a prayer, the vowels slurring together.
Their bodies collide frantically, making the bed shake, slamming the headboard against the wall. Their movements are so violent and unbridled that they make the wall crack under the onslaught.
Perhaps this was the solution all along, Cloud thinks, on the verge of hysterical laughter. Perhaps if they truly let themselves go, they could tear down these walls and grind them into dust. Perhaps they never needed a door at all.
He rolls his hips, bouncing greedily, making their bodies slap together wetly. His cock bounces between them, throbbing and urgent. Sephiroth takes it into his hand and strokes him roughly to completion.
It doesn’t take long; Sephiroth’s touch is pure magic, and Cloud cannot resist it.
“Sephiroth!!”
Even after coming twice, he falls apart embarrassingly fast, spilling between Sephiroth’s fingers, covering his chest with his come. Some of it even splatters onto his face, and the sight is nearly enough to send Cloud over the edge once more.
Unable to resist, he leans down and licks the spunk off Sephiroth’s cheek. It is still warm on his tongue when Sephiroth turns his head and kisses him, making the taste explode between them.
Cloud breaks the kiss and keeps moving, staring at Sephiroth without blinking, determined to catch the exact moment he comes undone. After everything that happened here, he needs this. He has to see Sephiroth in his moment of weakness. He cannot be the only one baring his soul tonight. And with the way Sephiroth watches him, Cloud wants to believe this means something. There has to be something more to it than simply toying with Cloud.
There is something unhinged in Sephiroth's eyes, something wild and savage in the way he’s gripping Cloud's hips, a total lack of control in the way he’s slamming him down onto his cock.
“Oh, Cloud. You’re perfect. I could play with you forever.”
“Hnng, Sephiroth!”
This is all a bit much right now. Cloud’s body is too high-strung, too sensitized. But he doesn’t want to stop yet; he wants to see Sephiroth come.
“Fill me,” he moans, and with a savage growl, Sephiroth takes control.
He flips them around, slamming Cloud onto the bed, and takes him hard, bending him backward, nearly snapping him in half. His wing unfurls behind him, unleashing a torrent of feathers into the air. Cloud sobs, overwhelmed. The stark contrast between this and the tenderness he experienced earlier makes this feel even more intense. High-pitched whines fall from his lips, and it should be embarrassing, but he cannot bring himself to care.
He is too far gone to fight any of it anymore. He wants this!
When Sephiroth claims his lips, he kisses back with equal need and urgency, moaning into his mouth. He meets him thrust for thrust as Sephiroth takes him brutally, ramming deep into his body, making him feel like he’s being ripped apart, mauled by a wild animal.
Sephiroth comes groaning his name, and it’s the hottest thing Cloud has ever heard. Warmth spreads through his insides, and he blushes, feeling owned like never before.
Sephiroth kisses him, devouring his mouth as the pleasure slowly ebbs, his hands cupping Cloud’s face in a way that feels too intimate. Almost inappropriate.
Cloud flees from his touch, panting, his head spinning.
When he twists away, Sephiroth lets him go. He sits upright and looks down at Cloud, broken and spent, struggling to catch his breath. Cloud wonders what he sees.
Uneasiness settles in the pit of his stomach as the silence around them stretches.
He watches Sephiroth rise and dress himself. He looks down at his own body, littered with bites and bruises, and covers himself with a sheet. It would be wise to leave as soon as possible, but his limbs refuse to move. He doesn’t want to leave until they talk this through, but this is Sephiroth, so of course that’s not going to happen. Still, Cloud stares at his back and prays for him to turn around. To say something. To give some indication that this meant something!
After everything that happened here, Cloud feels forever changed, and he refuses to believe he’s the only one.
But maybe he is.
Maybe Sephiroth already got what he wanted—a way to turn this into a weapon, a new addition to his arsenal against Cloud. Maybe that’s all this ever was.
A lump forms in Cloud’s throat as Sephiroth heads for the door. His hands twist in the sheets, clutching so hard they begin to shake.
Fucking bastard… But what did Cloud expect? He really should have known better.
“Catch,” Sephiroth says, and Cloud barely looks up in time to avoid getting his nose broken. He’s even more confused when he looks down at his hands and finds a small bottle of orange juice. “Thought you might want to keep that as a souvenir.”
“A souvenir? What are you—” he starts to ask, but then it hits him. He remembers the fruity flavor of the “drug” Sephiroth gave him and realizes with absolute mortification that there was never any aphrodisiac involved. Just orange juice. A placebo to lower his inhibitions, nothing more. Everything else was just Cloud letting loose.
He blushes furiously, glaring daggers at Sephiroth, who smiles smugly one last time.
“I’ll see you soon, Cloud,” he promises and heads out the door, leaving Cloud with a jumble of thoughts, his heart a mess. He almost wishes Sephiroth had killed him once they were done, so he wouldn’t have to live with this. With these memories. Echoes of the needy sounds he made, recollections of his pleas. They make him shudder with shame.
Slowly, Cloud gathers his clothes, gets dressed, and leaves.
When he uses the door, he reappears back in Edge, on the same street he was taken from. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. When he comes home, he realizes he was gone for only a few minutes. No one even noticed his absence. Marlene pouts when she doesn’t get her ice cream, but apart from that, life continues as normal, boring and predictable as ever.
Cloud never mentions what happened to anyone. He keeps it a secret, but he is forever changed.
Sometimes, he tries to convince himself that it was all a crazy dream, another one of his fantasies that felt too real. After all, Sephiroth is dead. He’s stuck in the Lifestream, and it is best for everyone that he never finds another way to return.
Cloud suppresses his feelings, as he had done for years, but they’re much harder to contain now that he knows what Sephiroth’s kisses feel like, when he knows what he sounds like when he comes.
He tries to lie to himself again and again, grasping at straws. When that doesn’t work, he tells himself things would be different out here in the real world. Even if Sephiroth came to him, Cloud would be forced to kill him. He couldn’t let himself be seduced.
Every night Cloud lies awake, tossing and turning, telling himself this is for the best. But the words refuse to sink in. His first taste of Sephiroth awoke an insatiable hunger inside him, leaving him constantly burning, craving his touch.
A few weeks later, Cloud wakes up in the middle of the night with a hand crushing his windpipe and a solid weight upon his chest. His eyes snap open, and he’s instantly on high alert.
“Miss me?” Sephiroth purrs, caging him in, pinning his limbs so he cannot struggle.
Is this another dream, Cloud wonders. A nightmare?
Sephiroth crushes their lips together, taking and claiming, devouring, reminding Cloud who he belongs to.
With a soft whimper of the man’s name, Cloud closes his eyes and surrenders.