InsaneJournal

Sephiroth watched him move, watched him dance with the fire as they fought. Genesis always thought that his friend watched to gain some advantage, to decipher the rhythm of his motion, or at least that’s what Sephiroth himself supposed.

If only Genesis knew the truth of it.

After their friendly duel, after both men had bowed to one another and then gone their separate ways, Sephiroth appropriated the shower, securing the door behind him. Genesis, as always, would be on his way back to his own quarters, or Angeal’s; asking him to stay was out of the question, though Sephiroth would have been lying to say he’d never considered such a thing.

Sephiroth stripped and set his gear aside, then dialed the water temperature to a chill spray. Blood running mako-hot, he stepped under the icy needles; his breathing did not change.

Ice, he thought, give me ice; the fire has been too much.

He leaned into the spray, palms flat to the wall as his hair fell sodden about his shoulders. Behind closed eyes he watched Genesis leap and spin, watched that smile bloom like embers flaring to life within the wind of his motion.

Sephiroth let his left hand drop to scrub lazily across his chest and belly as he imagined a crimson glove tracing those same lines. A sharpening of sensation between his legs caused him to shift slightly so the cold water no longer hit quite there; he lowered his hand to grip himself and gasped at the contrast of hot skin on chilled flesh.

Hot… I expect Genesis’ hands are always hot.

He licked his lips and began slowly jacking himself off.

If he were here, he would give me that wicked smile, the smile that could melt paint from the walls. He would smile, and even naked he would be the avatar of fire, eyes blazing hot as lit brandy.

Yes, he would smile that wicked smile and then sink to his knees beneath the water spray, hair darkened to the color of charred wood, breath hot as banked coals. I would feel his gaze travel from my face downward, and I would know that his is no position of submission as his lips part to…to…

Sephiroth paused, panting. He didn’t have the right words for what he was thinking, and the coarse phrases just didn’t seem to fit.

…and his mouth would be so hot, his tongue touching me in ways I’ve never known but have often imagined, imagined every time he’s smiled that wicked smile and lit me on fire with his eyes. Genesis would hold me captive with his hands and his mouth and his tongue, eyes mercifully shut as he…

Sephiroth gasped softly, his hand flying over his shaft as the heat of his skin turned the water spray to steam.

He would hold me captive, demanding pleasure in my flesh until I’m ready to beg and then…and then…

“Goddess!” Sephiroth hissed, muscles locking with the force of orgasm. His hand moved firmly, urging the final tremors from his sex.

Leaning heavily against the wall, he turned the shower dial to a slightly warmer setting, to replace the mako steam with a more natural sort. He reached for the soap.

His senses sparked to life: there was someone here.

And that someone was now clapping.

Blazing bright eyes locked on him, burning through the haze of steam. “Very nice, very nice! I can understand why I wasn’t invited…but why did you make me pick the lock?”

Sephiroth didn’t need to see the smile to know that it was there – and it was wicked.