Final Fantasy VII, SOLDIER/Turks, staff party
It had started out as a simple party, a sort of ‘Thank Loki We Survived’ end of the year party where the senior members of the Turks and SOLDIERs took over a large lounge, swapped You’re Not Gonna Believe This One stories, nibbled snacks and drank punch that was sure to be doctored some time during the day. Reno had started the ‘doctoring’ with a bottle of something that was green and glowed like mako but he assured everyone was perfectly legal while guaranteed to get a SOLDIER shit faced drunk. Then Zack had added something, not wanting to be outdone, but when asked, he only stated that it was legal.
But now, Tseng was wondering if it had been even a remotely good idea to let those two add to the punch as his eyes flickered around the room where an impromptu orgy had broken out. Clothes and uniforms were strewn everywhere while the slapping of skin on skin mixed with moans, groans and soft curses as Turks and SOLDIERs mixed freely. Reno and Rude were double teaming a newly promoted First with ruby eyes while Cissnei and Gun were proving that they didn’t need any man in their life to enjoy themselves. Zack had produced a cadet with wildly spiking blond hair from somewhere and had him pinned in a corner, mostly covering the cadet with his body as he proceeded to screw him into the wall.
“You’re thinking again,” purred a voice in Tseng’s ear accompanied by a sharp thrust, and Tseng barely managed to catch the moan before it slipped out. Silver hair cascaded past his shoulder as Sephiroth bent over the Head Turk’s back, forcing Tseng’s chest farther into the back of the leather covered couch. “If I didn’t know you weren’t as influenced as everyone else here, I would feel insulted.”
A chuckle slipped out of Tseng as he turned his head to glance back at the Silver General, the long coat and armor abandoned some time earlier along with Tseng’s jacket and tie. The white shirt and undershirt had been stripped from the Turk, revealing a shimmering green and blue dragon tattooed on his skin, winding its way around his body to rest its head on his shoulder. That had gotten a surprised look and a gentle touch before Sephiroth had decided to see if the inked skin tasted any different than the rest of his chest.
“We know we’re sober, but they don’t. That’s all the excuse we need,” he purred, pressing back on that hard erection. There were many who would kill to be in his current position, bent over the back of a couch with the Silver General fucking him, if only for the ability to use it for their own gain later. But Tseng had nothing that Sephiroth needed that Sephiroth couldn’t get himself, and the same was true for Sephiroth in Tseng’s case.
Another sharp thrust as teeth latched on to Tseng’s undecorated shoulder, and the Turk moaned softly. Perhaps they might see if they could get together more often like this. With plans unfolding to coax Sephiroth into his apartment, Tseng shoved his hips backwards and convinced Sephiroth that the time of talking was done.