raisedbymoogles (raisedbymoogles) wrote in kinkfest, @ 2008-11-26 12:19:00 |
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Current mood: | calm |
Current music: | Distant Radio - Devics |
You Were An Angel (FF7, Cloud/Sephiroth)
Title: You Were An Angel
Author: raisedbymoogles
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: UST
Prompt: Kingdom Hearts - Sephiroth/Cloud - wingkink - It was a lot more difficult to care for three feathered wings than a single leathery wing.
Word count: 1020
Summary: On the outside, it's just some bandaged wounds and a backrub, but things are never that simple with these two.
Cloud's wing beat a stuttering staccato against Sephiroth's arm, all the fight he had left to him after their brief and ugly battle. The mad General held him close around the waist and dipped his tongue against a scrape over Cloud's eyebrow, thoughtfully rolling the blood back in his mouth as Cloud hissed - the wound had been inflicted before he'd arrived, by Nobodies judging by the dusty-dry taste, though who knew what they wanted with his Cloud. Then again, the blond's association with the Keybearer was probably reason enough for them to attack. Regardless, they'd been beaten, but at a cost, and Sephiroth hadn't minded taking advantage afterwards.
Cloud beat his wing against Sephiroth's arm again, and Sephiroth tilted his head, noticing for the first time an erratic shudder to its movements. Its smooth black skin was mottled in blood, angry scrapes marring the tender flesh across the widest part of the wing. Sephiroth felt himself scowl, his brows drawing together - this will not do. Putting his free hand over the wound, Sephiroth called forth the dark magic that had become a part of him and spun it into the web of Cloud's wing.
It worked like a charm: after all, Cloud's wing was of the Darkness as well, and it knows its own. As the skin knit, Cloud moaned and slumped in Sephiroth's grasp to dangle like a doll. Sephiroth smiled, swept his largest wing around the blond and took to the sky.
***
Cloud woke up with the scent of the desert in his nose and mouth. He jolted up and immediately regretted it - damn Nobodies anyway, and damn Sephiroth for good measure - but forced himself not to fall back onto the cushion he'd been laid out on. He was shirtless, his wounds clean and bandaged and his red sash tied around his waist. He was sitting on a rough red stone balcony overlooking endless sands and an equally endless sky that the sun burned from blue to white.
The sun, Cloud thought as his skin prickled. Depending on how long he'd been left out here, he was going to have one hell of a sunburn.
Determined to give his anonymous benefactor a stern talking-to - pale skin, bright sunlight, do not mix, idiot! - Cloud swept aside the tattered curtain across the doorway and strode into the building.
At the first glimpse of a dark wing and silver hair he leaped to one side, rolling and coming up ready to meet an attack that never came. Sephiroth was slumped on a threadbare lounging sofa, naked to the waist as he was, his largest wing draped over the back of the sofa. His two smaller hip wings, the ones Cloud knew did most of the work during flight, dragged listlessly on the floor. Cloud's darkness was utterly still, his face hidden against the arm of the sofa without a hint of green glow to betray his eyes.
Cloud approached, fingering the bandage across his chest. His own leathery wing flexed easily against his back, showing not a twinge of pain from having been all but shredded earlier. He hated his wing sometimes as a constant mark of his unforgivable sin - besides, it's not like the thing let him fly - but, how he felt about his wing wasn't the point, was it?
He hadn't been close to Sephiroth without a sword in his hand since their world had fallen. Cloud knelt by the foot of the sofa, on one of the cushions thoughtfully standing by. Sephiroth's hip wings fluttered gently as he drew close enough to smell them, sharp steel and cold winds and old, old wounds. When he touched them, he could feel them quivering with exhaustion, the muscles knotting all the way up the middle of Sephiroth's spine.
Caring for Sephiroth's wings was trickier than caring for his own; the feathers forced him to work by touch alone, and there was a lot more area to cover. Cloud tucked his head down and stroked firmly through the feathers before he could change his mind, ruffling them up a section at a time to check the black skin for scratches or foreign matter before petting them smooth again. They hung still under his ministrations, neither shrinking back nor trying to get closer, as polite as a show dog being groomed. Cloud wiggled loose and discarded a broken feather and patted the area down again until it shone black and formless as an overcast night.
First one wing, then the other; then his back, moon-pale, the muscles slowly unknotting as Cloud dug his fingertips in. Just seeing to the parts with feathers didn't make up the whole of the wing, Cloud knew from experience. There was a whole web of muscle at the base, and the swells across Sephiroth's hips were tight and firm and strong. They had to be, for Sephiroth's hip wings were the ones that carried him in flight. Cloud pressed in with his whole weight, and this time Sephiroth, inert until now, responded with a groan and a flap of his single shoulder wing.
"I was wondering when you were going to admit you were awake," Cloud said, shaking out his hands.
"I didn't want you to stop," Sephiroth grumbled into his arm.
"Hmh." Cloud shrugged selfconsciously. "You're not bad when you're not trying to kill me. Don't get any ideas," he added when Sephiroth drew breath to speak.
Sephiroth let his breath out in a sigh, then asked, "Do my other wing?" He sounded so plaintive, almost childlike, that Cloud couldn't refuse.
"Sure." As soon as he spoke, Cloud flushed red. Doing the back of the wing was one thing, but to do the front he'd have to all but sit in Seph's lap - oh, man.
Sephiroth was sitting up, supple and graceful as a serpent, with an evil snap in his uncanny eyes. Cloud braced himself, but even he couldn't fight a void-black, silk-soft wing swept around his bare shoulders as Sephiroth's smile drew lines of fire from his lips all the way to his core.