Trapped. Trapped in the worst of all places, one filled with pink fluff that was supposed to be edible, filled with sickening sweet and sticky circles on sticks, filled with chewy pink and orange balls covered from start to finish with sugar. Stuck with a sulking, angry, psychotic man who was bent on taking over the world with his experiment-crashed-from-space, dead mother. It was pure evil, and I had absolutely no way to escape it.
To top it off, I was getting strange urges to rid the aforementioned nutcase of his leather pants. Whatever the hell was happening, I did not like it and I wanted out. Badly. Plus, that idiot was looking at me in a very provocative manner, which was only making matters worse. What the hell was going on?
And whose bright idea was it to trap me in a candy shop with Sephiroth?
The man appeared as if he would like nothing better than to tear my head off and stick it in the cotton candy machine, just so he could laugh his demented laugh and then eat it. Yes it was sick, but being trapped in a candy shop with a madman wasn't exactly ideal. Plus, I hated candy. It was sickening, and the air conditioner had broken, making it sweltering in there. How the hell did the guy stand it, encased in all that leather!
Apparently, he didn't. He began to strip himself of his leather, pulling down the zipper in front slowly. Staring at him, I felt myself twitch internally; dammat, where were these urges coming from! Before long, the mighty Sephiroth was completely naked, staring at me as if daring me to touch his naked flesh.
I, Vincent Valentine, am no uke. If this was going to happen, (which it wasn't, until we got trapped in here in the first place) he was going to be underneath me, as it always was. So I stood there, passive. Finally he approached me, and ripped off my red, tattered clothing. He took down my hair, he completely and violently undressed me. It was rather unnerving, but as if I was going to act like I was afraid. Vincent Valentine was not afraid of anything.
But I never say that. In fact I never say anything, because the human race gets on my nerves rather frequently. If I say nothing, then there is nothing to respond to, giving people little reason to talk to me in the first place. But this was my stream of consciousness mind you, what I was thinking at the time.
There we were, completely exposed. He kissed my lips, pulling me toward him by the small of my back. His tongue slipped in between my lips, exploring my mouth and inviting mine to do the same. I felt his semi-erect member rub against mine, and something in my brain snapped. I pushed my tongue forcefully into his mouth, and with our bodies pressed against each others, we struggled for dominance.
I groped his erection, feeling him buckle slightly. I forced my tongue all the way into his mouth, claiming victory as my own. He stumbled backwards, taking me to the floor with him. On top of him, I planted kisses down his stomach until I got to his cock, wrapping my mouth around him and making him gasp. He arched his back, sending it completely inside of my mouth. I felt his silvery pubic hair tickle my nose. He wrapped a tightly muscled calf around the back of my head, urging me onward.
I moved up and down, at a torturously slow pace, his hoarse voice moaning my name. His long, pale fingers were caught in my hair as I tasted him again and again, salty and bitter. Finally my pace increased, and he began to cry out, pleading for me to go on. I complied, finally his liquids pour out into my mouth, and I swallowed them all down sinfully, wiping my chin and licking my hand.
I turned him over, biting the nape of his neck softly. I entered him first with one finger, biting and nibbling at his neck. He began to beg for me inside of him; how easily he was dominated, I never would have guessed. I entered another finger, and his begging became even more urgent. "Yes my little Uke, as you wish." I entered my erection, and I felt him gasp. In and out I pumped, gripping his erection and moving back and forth in the same rhythm, as he struggled to kiss me.
I stopped, to much protest from Sephiroth. Turning him over to face me, I slid back into him, pumping away at his erection with one hand, and leaning on the other. My tongue tangled with his, another small battle for dominance. I tasted the salty sweat of his neck, and committed his groans to my memory. Something told me this would never happen away.
He came, screaming out my name. I silenced him with another kiss, possibly the last one. I felt the hammer of his cold, rotten heart against mine. I removed myself from him, my fingers tangled in his hair, his body pressed against mine. I kissed him one last, final time, resigning to leave my mark on his pale skin, sucking as hard as I could.
My phone rang, amongst the tatters that were my clothing. Cloud's rasp of a voice was on the other line, giving me directions on how to get out. I took note of them, put my untouched cloak on (I had taken it off earlier) and left Sephiroth lying on the cold, tiled floor.
Days later, we sighted him from the airship. Yuffie was having a conniption fit, as usual. I saw him turn to look, his long silver hair freely flowing in the gusts of wind. I wanted to hold him in my arms, bastard that he was. I wanted to kiss him, just one last time. You always want what you can't have, I mused to myself.
In an instant, he was gone. It was as if he disappeared completely.
We had another meeting, one in a less... sticky situation. Weeks and weeks later, I found myself back in his arms. Wasn't I supposed to be the Seme? I suppose I could have him, just not often. Whatever we felt, it was mutual. I got to taste the salt of his sweat, and the bitter sting of his semen again and again.
Maybe it would be what a schoolgirl would call a happy ending. I personally think it's just the begining.