Disclaimer: You know what I have to say: Neither parties belong to me, more's the pity. Neither do any of the characters, names, places etc mentioned in this fic. The 'story' (what little of it there is) does belong to me however, and if you steal it I'll beat yer to death with a blunt spoon...
Reviews are always appreciated. They make me feel all shiny if they're good, and help me out with my writing style if they're bad.
WARNING: slight bondage use...nothing too kinky however. But if you have a problem with bondage then I suggest you don't read.
Lonely in Wutai
I think he's a little drunk, but then, so am I. I haven't let myself go in a long long time... ever since Lucrecia was alive. She'd made me laugh, but since then, I've laughed very little, if at all, and yet now here I am, sitting here in a crappy little bar in Wutai letting myself laugh with a guy that up until recently has been trying to kill us. Strange how things work out, isn't it?
I finish laughing quietly at the story he's just told me about Rufus and the hired cross dresser, and pour another shot down my throat. That's my seventh tonight, I'd better keep an eye on what I drink from now. For once I've taken off the heavy cloak around my throat, and I'm sitting there in shirtsleeves. I feel a little uncovered, as this is hardly a thing I tend to do when with somebody I barely know, but he lets it pass as though it's not important, and carries on speaking. I sigh quietly in relief, and start to smile drunkenly again as he describes the look on Rufus' face the next morning. Hell, does this guy like to talk. It's amazing he has time to breathe between speeches, but I suppose it suits the situation. I rarely like to talk to anyone, but I listen, and I listen well. I like listening to this guy, he's got a voice that invokes complete relaxation. Even for me, it's hard keeping the barriers up as he drawls on happily about things I'm not even sure he understands what. But like I said: I listen. Listening is the best way to feel out someone's character, I've learned. I listened a lot in Hojo's lab, for there wasn't anything else I could do, and I've become able to sense people out because of that dark time. At least now I can sense this man out as he carries on speaking drunkenly, obviously oblivious to the fact that my red eyes are searching him, judging every detail of his character as I throw my head back, pouring more amber liquid down my throat but not letting my eyes leave the Turk in front of me. I can tell just from the tone of his voice that he's changed a little since we last met. He's still irresponsible, and as can be seen from the forest of empty glasses littered around his side of the table, he still drinks far too much. But who am I to judge? Ever since Meteor was destroyed and we all went our seperate ways, I've been much the same. Now Hojo has been dealt with, there's little reason for me to carry on, little else for me to do except drink and live in the shadows. I've learned to appreciate the little things more: the feel of the wind, the smell of the air. The feel of another being's flesh next to mine...
Suddenly his mood's changed, probably due to the incredible amount of alcohol now pumping through his veins. The normally confident Turk is explaining with a crack in his voice about how lonely his life has become since Meteor: how, with noone to tell them what to do, the Turks have lost any purpose. Apparently, he hasn't seen his comrades in two or three months, and somehow ended up drifting towards Wutai without any idea what to do now. He looks sad as he pours yet another glass of whiskey into his mouth. For once I feel some sort of connection with him: now our purpose is finished, neither of us have any real idea of what our lives mean, and neither of us can ever properly adjust to living in this new, peaceful world. We were both products of Shinra, in one way or another, and in a world without Shinra neither of us has a place. For once since being with AVALANCHE, I feel for another creature. We're suddenly all too similar, and I feel sympathy for him, even though we were once enemies... but is it just sympathy?
The next thing I know, I'm beginning to fantasize about him: this lazy, unkempt assassin as he drawls on, becoming more and more incomprehensible with every drink he takes. I can imagine him sprawled out beneath me, eyes clenched shut as he pants my name. I imagine that relaxing voice of his being used in a quite different way as I tease his release slowly from him. Perhaps it is more than sympathy, then. I normally ignore such desires, deeming myself not worthy of having them fulfilled, but the liquor in my veins is overcoming my better judgement, and before I quite know what's happened I'm sitting close to him, staring into the mako-green eyes that conflict so harshly with my dark red ones, leaning in towards him as he begins to feel uneasy under my stare. The fantasies are running through my head at a disasterous pace now, I can't back off. I'm starting to pant a little. I can feel myself already starting to go hard at the idea of having him, tasting him. I can smell him from here... the smell of cheap aftershave and cigarettes and yet suddenly it's like an aphrodisiac to me. I lick my lips before I speak, and the red-haired Turk stops talking and gulps silently. He seems already to know what question it is I'm about to ask him.
"Do you want to -"
I allow myself a smirk. It's been a long time since anybody has so readily accepted an offer from me, but perhaps for a Turk and an ex-Turk, there's some sort of connection. We are indeed similar. We work along the same thought trails, even though at a first glance he seems to almost be my opposite. I know one thing though: both of us are lonely, and perhaps just for tonight, we won't have to be.
I get up, grabbing my cloak as I head for the door of the bar without turning back. If he wants to come, he'll come. I won't force my desires on him if he doesn't want them. That would make me as bad as Hojo. However, he already knows that once he's accepted, he'll be drawn into my dark world. I said that to him when he first saw me and offered to buy me a drink earlier, and I know he knows the same applies now. He knows once he follows me, he can't draw back. I also know he won't turn me down: I can hear his footsteps as he follows me back to what is now my home: a little shack hidden innocently on the outskirts of Wutai.
I stop at the door and wait for him to catch up. He's much more drunk than me, and I turn back with a smirk to see just how badly he's staggering. Eventually he realises where it is I am and walks towards me with a feral grin, which I suppose could be called rather attractive. I feel his hands slip around my waist as I search my pockets for the keys. He's going to be the intense type, but then, I always expected him to be. He might be hard to tame, but that doesn't mean I won't try. In fact, it might be fun to try. He leans up on tiptoe and begins to nip at my neck as I open the door, brushing my hair aside as he starts to nibble on my ear. I'd be a liar if I said it didn't affect me, and I turn to kiss him as we come over the threshold into the hallway. No, he can't turn back now, he knows as well as I do that he's come too far. Still leaning into the kiss, I turn and kick the door shut. His lips are young and warm and supple. They taste just as I had expected them to: sweetened with liquor, bittered by cigarettes, and he has a taste of his own. Something that demands my attention, that I can't get enough of. I probe his mouth as deep as I can, hungry for that taste as he groans into my mouth and wraps his hands in my hair. It's been a long time since I've had such willing contact with another being, and I savour it, like a fine wine, letting my human hand trail down his more than willing back. He's got a fine body, and I wonder what it would look like splayed out, his eyes shadowed with lust, waiting for me. Just the thought of it makes me return his groan, and I can't help but let my hips move instinctively forwards. We both break the kiss and ghasp as our erections rub against each other. It seems he's just as excited as I am and he grins up at me mischieviously, almost innocently, but I know that no Turk is innocent, that part of us is taken away or hidden deep. But if I were to just look at him now, with no knowledge of who he was, I could almost consider him child-like. From the look in his eyes, and the shallowness of his breath I know he doesn't want to wait. He's impatient, so I lead him through to the bedroom.
My idea of what a bedroom should look like is obviously very different to his, as when we get in he stares around the place with a look of awe. I'll admit it's furnished a little old fashioned, but I prefer candlelight to the cold harsh electrical light, and four poster beds with red satin sheets are just a matter of taste. I hear a 'woah' escape from his mouth as he stares round like a lost puppy, and then he sits down on the edge of the bed, looking up expectantly, lustfully as I close the door behind us. I manage to just about surpress a smirk as I walk towards him. Who would've thought it... a submissive Turk? Well that will make the evening a little more interesting...for me, at least.
He backs up onto the bed with a pant as I kneel in between his legs, ducking down and pulling him roughly back into a kiss once we're both comfortable. There's need building in me right now, and this time the kiss is more frantic, even from him. It's been years since I've felt this needy - of anything, but the Turk has something... a smell, a taste, a presence that's driving me wild, and I find myself attacking his mouth as I lay him down, kissing him so hard that he's being pushed into the pillow behind him but I can't help myself, and he seems to be putting up no resistance, if not adhereing to it even. It seems he likes the idea of me being in control, as he just groans louder and trails those slim fingers up and down under my shirt. I rock down onto him as we kiss, just for the sake of it, just because I can, and I grin when he breaks away to let out a whimper of need and wraps his legs instinctively around my waist, while grabbing handfuls of my hair. Oh but the sight of this normally headstrong creature so under my power is exciting. My head is suddenly filled with more fantasies, of him squirming and panting and groaning under my touch... just my touch. It's been forever since I've had the power of pleasure and release over a subject so willing, and now the chance is here I intend to use it. I continue to rock against him slowly, his legs still wrapped tightly around me, pulling me instinctively closer as I brush our cocks together. I just want to hear him moan my name, and I get it, or at least something that sounds like my name beyond the lust and alcohol. He seems to like being under me so I'll let him stay there as I unbutton his shirt with my good hand, and continue to rock, feeling the effect it's having on me now too. I let slip a quiet groan as I stare down at him, eyes closed tightly and trying his best to stop the moans escaping his mouth. Once his shirt is open I force myself to stop, leaving the Turk beneath me panting and staring up at me, almost pleading in his lust-filled eyes. I look at him fierily with my red eyes and kiss him again, but only lightly now. There are more important things I'm interested in right now, such as working out just how deep his submissive streak is. As I kiss him, my hand works its way up his body, brushing his nipple momentarily as it passes causing him to gasp, but my hand just continues upwards until I'm pushing one of his arms up above his head, and I push it to the bed.
The next thing I know, he's broken the kiss in shock of what I'm doing. I'm only holding his wrist lightly, not enough to hurt him but he seems a little hesitant, and I can understand why: I know the figure Hojo has turned me into is scary, and I know how suspicious a Turk has to be to survive. However, he's trusted me thus far... I look him sincerely in the eyes, asking his permission. It wouldn't be right to make him do something he doesn't want to, I above anyone should know the feelings attatched to that. He's still panting, but I can see the questioning look in his eyes. He's unsure wether to let me carry on, it's obvious he's never been in such a situation before and perhaps he feels a little overpowered by me? I'm about to let his hand go when he closes his eyes and nods quickly. That's the signal I wanted. A second later I've got both of his arms pinned to the bed and I'm kissing him hard. My tongue is being met with just as much passion from the redhead. Now the nervousness of the situation has passed, I think he's beginning to like being under my power. Even though I'm really not doing anything to him, I can feel as his hips shift up off the bed towards me. His cock rubs against mine and this time it's me who moans louder, unable to stifle the cry due to the unexpectedness of it. Well, that will have to be dealt with. It won't do for him to be making me moan rather than the other way around.
I return to rocking against him. It's the only thing I can think of to distract him from what I'm doing behind his head, and it seems to be working: he has his eyes closed and he seems to be struggling with furrowed brow to keep himself calm. I know I can't carry on doing this for long, or he'll be spent before I want him to be. I just need him to hold it off long enough for me to finish what I'm doing. There's a piece or two of silky cloth that I use to tie back the bed curtains and I'm pretty sure it could come in useful for keeping the impatient creature under control. I suddenly realise he's opened his mako-green eyes, and is watching me as he continues to groan. I can't help but smirk. He doesn't protest when I grab one of his hands and tie it quickly to the bedpost. In fact, he offers his other hand to me shakily when I go to tie it, with a flash of a smile in between pants. I stop rocking against him and he whimpers, suddenly feeling the loss of friction as do I, but I remember that such a willing partner has not been mine since... I can't remember. I have to remind myself to take my time, to savour his feeling, his taste, his smell. Like saving water for an inevitable drought. It's unlikely that the Turk will want this to happen again, and I've been without feeling for so long that the sensations of this night are something I'll have to store in my memory and feed off when the loneliness takes its toll.
I sit back up away from him and admire my handiwork for a second with a dark smile. He looks perfect like that, lying with his hands tied with black silk, his mako eyes shadowed with lust, his innocent-looking lips parted to let out excited pants. His open shirt reveals a chest that's lean but firm, and it's rising and falling quickly in time with his breathing as he looks up at me, waiting. I have the overwhelming urge to just take what I want from him now, but I force myself to slip from between his thighs and kneel beside him on the bed. He's looking at me, wondering what I'm doing, but he needn't wonder for long, as I pull off my own shirt slowly and drop it at the foot of the bed. I know it's teasing, I know it's cruel but he seems to be quite enjoying the show. His eyes open wide as he gapes at my chest. It was once as tanned as his, once as smooth and muscled, but now it's almost pure white from years asleep in Shinra mansion, and there are scars that Hojo put there that pothole me. I panic. For a moment I think he's staring at me in horror like so many others and I'm preparing myself to listen to the disgust in his voice. Suddenly he just gasps, eyes still wide open.
"Jes'... you're fuckin' beaut'ful." He drawls lustfully.
I can't help but let myself smile a little at that. I've never been called beautiful before. Normally when people see what Hojo did to me, they try to ignore it or just look repulsed and walk away. But then, I suppose he must understand a little about scars, from those two delicate red ones under his eyes. I'm in my own world of thoughts for a moment, and it takes the Turk a whimper and a shift of his legs to bring me back to the present.
I nod. I know he wants me to carry on and I oblige, trailing my hand across his stiff erection before proceeding to unbutton his pants. I don't mean to go so slowly, but my clawed hand is useless for anything bar fighting, and I'm struggling to undo his buttons. However, I eventually get it done and slip his pants from under him... to find out he's wearing nothing underneath. Had I expected anything different from him? No, not really. I quirk an eyebrow at him and he just shrugs as best he can with his hands tied to the bedposts. He's incredibly erect, and there's precum dribbling tantilisingly from his tip. I don't want to tease him much more, but there's something just too inviting about it, so I lean over and wrap my lips around the end.
He releases a halting gasp at the unexpected sensation and arches up from the bed, but I'm expecting that, and I restrain his hips against the sheets. His taste swims around my mouth and I savor it, licking anything I can as he seeps more. He's groaning my name and shifting around above me, obviously unsure what to do with himself because of the confinement of his hands. I know he's not going to last much longer. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see his face, screwed up as he writhes around helpless while I tease his tip, caressing his slit only lightly with my tongue. I know it's cruel, but there's something about seeing the redhead writhe around on my bed thats oh too interesting to watch. After all, it's been a long time since I've been able to give this sort of pleasure to anyone, and it feels so good to be able to do it again, to know I've not lost my touch. I find myself smiling against his length as I hear him call my name and plead. It occurs to me that I've never heard the Turk say please to me before. This is the first time I've met him since Meteor, and it's oddly arousing to hear one of those who'd been trying to kill me just months ago, begging me to give him release. Of course, I'm not that cruel. I know now's the time to give him what he needs, and I reluctantly pull away, replacing my mouth with my hand and pumping him hard. I've been doing this barely ten seconds when he screams, his hips thrusting off the bed and his head thrashing around, that red hair of his plastering across his sweating forehead as he coats my fingers in his load.
He stiffens completely for a moment, before sighing and collapsing limply back onto the bed. I sigh with him, but for a different reason: I've been starved of physical love since before Hojo did what he did to me, and being able to cause pleasure again is something I've missed. After a moment letting him recover, I climb back so that I'm straddling his hips this time, and look down into his eyes. Even after the recent orgasm, there's still lust in his eyes which I, for one, am glad about. I feel content that I've given him this, but I can't help but feel the throbbing in between my legs. I am only human under all the scars and mutations after all...
The redheaded Turk looks up at me half dazed, and when he's finally managed to stop panting he glares drunkenly.
"You're one mean son 'f bitch." He drawls, allowing that feral grin to come back into his face. He looks more than half like a cat, bright green eyes and a mane of wild red hair. I reach down and move the hair out of his face as he can't do it himself and I allow myself a smirk at the 'compliment' he gives me.
"I take it you enjoyed?" I purr down at him, and I can't believe how warm the tone of my voice is. I haven't heard myself speak like that in years, and I think even the Turk is taken aback by it. Even he knows something of who I am.. what I am, and the grin fades a little with what I say, though the lust stays there. He licks his lips slowly and nods. I think he's just discovered a love for being teased, and I'm beginning to discover a love for teasing him, so perhaps I can allow myself to relax and enjoy the feeling of being with someone for once, instead of hiding in the shadows of the world, friendless. He seems to have calmed down again, and straddling his hips I realise he's still half erect, even after the orgasm just a few minutes ago. That's also something I'm glad about, as now he's agreed to come here in my home, in my bed, he's mine for the night. I bend down and kiss him again. Slowly this time, taking my time to explore his mouth as my hand trails down his neck lightly. He makes a noise in the back of his throat like a growl that seems to indicate he likes it. I notice his fingers keep flexing, probably wanting to move them to return the favour, but I think I prefer this way. He's the first in a long time that I've really enjoyed. Perhaps because we're so similar below the surface, I can connect with him on a more personal level. Even the AVALANCHErs I had trouble connecting with, but with one such as him: a Turk, a lost soul, it seems natural. In fact, if I think hard, I haven't felt this comfortable with another being since... Lucrecia.
Her name catches me off guard and I can't help but break the kiss and pull back for a second, eyes closed to try and regain my composure. Lucrecia... The Turk shifts underneath me, and I open my eyes to see he's looking up at me with a confused... maybe even worried expression in those green eyes. After a moment, I reassure him with a half smile and lean back down to carry on what I was doing. No, I won't allow myself to lose this. I won't allow myself to fall into misery tonight, when there's finally someone that's willing to overlook my flaws and just think of me as normal. My hand resumes its caresses of his throat and I kiss him again. I can feel his erection is getting harder as we kiss, and he's groaning again, as am I. The need is coming back to me, and I start to kiss him more forcefully. That taste in his mouth is still there and I suddenly can't get enough of it. My hand trails down his stomach as we kiss and he shudders, nipping on my bottom lip out of instinct and making it bleed a little. I know it's time I stopped just pleasuring him and satisfied myself. I can't prolong this any longer, as much as I want to. The need is too strong now. I back away, licking the blood from my lip and leaving him there as I stand up and work to remove my own pants. Thankfully that's one place Hojo didn't think to scar or change, which is surprising, but I'm grateful for it. The Turk looks me over with an expectant grin, and I return it with a smirk of my own as I sling my pants over to where I dropped my shirt and come back onto the bed. He shifts his hands. I think he wants to touch me and his expression turns to one of mock disappointment when he realises I haven't the slightest inkling of freeing him. I can't help but let a dark grin spread across my face at that. He's treating me like a normal person, and it's making him all the more attractive. I shudder. I want to know what he will feel like buried inside me. I take him in my mouth again with a reluctant groan and a helpless laugh from the Turk. He thinks I'm doing it to tease him again but I'm not. I don't have anything we could use for lubricant in the room, and this is the best thing I can think of, coating his erection with my saliva as he writhes around again above me, breathing my name out in between groans. There, it's done and I back off, climbing to straddle his hips yet again. There's a flash in his eyes as he finally understands what it was I was doing and he stares up at me with his eyes glazed over in lust. I can't help but return that look in my red ones, and I sigh as I slowly lower myself onto him.
The alcohol in my system has at least made me relax enough for this not to be too painful. In fact, there's barely any pain at all, just the warm sensation as the Turk's length presses against my walls as I lower myself. He groans and his eyes clench shut, his head twisting to the side at the sensation of my walls around him. I groan too, but I do my best to keep my eyes open. I want to see his face, want to see the feelings run through him when we're doing this. I don't think he wants me to take my time, as his hips buck up into me suddenly so that he's buried completely inside me, and what's more, he's just hit my prostate. I open my mouth to groan or yelp, but nothing comes out and for a second all I can see is colours flashing in front of my eyes. He might be tied up, but I can tell he knows how to make somebody feel good without the use of his hands. From what he's been telling me tonight, he's had a lot of practice, and he seems determined to pay me back for teasing him, as he keeps bucking up into me every time I lower myself and somehow he keeps managing to hit that sensitive spot. Eventually I give up trying to tease him slowly, and the lust and need take over. I'm suddenly riding him hard, and we're both groaning and panting at the sensation. I'm leaning over him, clutching to the bedcover as if it's the only thing stopping me from collapsing, and it feels as though it is. I'm managing somehow to keep my eyes open through this and watch him, his head tossing from side to side and his mouth contorted into a painful smile. His hands are struggling to free themselves from the bonds, though I don't think he knows he's doing it. I know he's too drunk to last much longer, and from the warmth spreading through the pit of my stomach, neither will I. It's when he hits my sensitive spot again that I'm pushed over the edge. For some reason I shout as I come, clenching my eyes and my teeth and crumpling the sheets with my good hand, and I know from the way my walls are suddenly coated with warmth that my muscle spasm has pushed him over the edge too. He doesn't scream this time, he just moans something incomprehensible before letting his muscles relax and panting below me. I stay where I am for a second, unable to move as the space between me and him is filled with sticky warmth. Eventually it passes and I sigh, collapsing down onto him.
Normally I'd force myself to get up, clean myself up and tell him to get out, but for some reason that doesn't even enter my head this time. I'm too comfortable, too at ease with him to just let it slip away.
After he's caught his breath he looks down at me resting on his chest, and there's something there in his eyes that's not just lust anymore. He smiles at me, not the cat-like grin from before, but something different. The only thing I can do is look back questioningly, wondering what it is behind that look that's so appealing to me because I don't have the strength to speak. He seems to though.
He's just made me laugh for some reason, which is difficult enough on the best days. I finish laughing into his chest and oblige. No sooner are his arms free than they're wrapped around me. I tense up for a second. I'm not used to affection like this, it seems strange...but good. Eventually I just sigh and allow myself to lie with my head on his chest, still rising and falling a little hard. I never expected him to be the afterglow kind, and I never expected myself to allow him to be, but it somehow seems comfortable. For once I don't feel alone, and for once I don't feel as if I deserve to be.
"Will you stay the night?" I find myself saying. Words I never thought I'd say again, but right now I don't want him to leave. He shifts and looks down into my red eyes, moving my hair from in front of my face.
"If you wan' me to."
I think for a second and nod as I close my eyes, burying my face in his chest. If he thinks he's moving from this position tonight, he's very very mistaken. He doesn't seem to want to though. He just sighs and tightens his grip on me. From a distance we must look odd: the Turk and the ex-Turk, wrapped in each others arms, but beneath that we're the same. The lonely throwbacks of a world of Shinra. Who knows? Perhaps we'll be company for each other beyond just tonight. I suppose I'll have to wait and see.
I'm disturbed from my thoughts when he leans down and kisses my forhead.
" 'night Vince."
I smile a little at the nickname and sigh again.
That's the last thing I say or do before I fall asleep in his arms, and for once I pass a peaceful night. For once, my sleep isn't plagued with dark dreams.