Rating: M (for slash and smut)
Description: In which both men get what they've been asking for.
The missive came at exactly noon, when Sephiroth would be finishing his shift for the day, and was delivered personally by one Zack Fair. Perhaps the only one Sephiroth could trust with such potentially damaging words.
Tseng knew that the military hierarchy would frown upon he and Sephiroth building something beyond a working relationship. Friendship would appall them, much less whatever else might be brewing. And when it came down to it, Tseng was far more expendable than Sephiroth, at least according to Shinra. This care and tact was as much for the Turk's protection as it was for their privacy.
The missive was brief and to the point, without a wasted word.
I find that the training arena is too public. My personal quarters have an appropriate private ring that is more preferable. See you at seven.
If anyone had intercepted it, the note would have come off as stiff, formal, nothing more than a training exercise between two of ShinRa's top employees. Only Tseng –and most likely Fair as well – knew what truth lay behind the invitation. It was like a dream come true to Tseng, if he believed in such things as insubstantial as dreams.
Seven hours seemed to drag into eternity for Tseng, who couldn't concentrate on his reports, much less finalizing the infiltration plan for a certain mission that Heidegger thought of the most importance. Luckily, this mission wouldn't be assigned and completed until after Tseng returned from his brief leave of absence. Which started the moment the clock ticked past five in the evening.
Tseng sat back in his chair, drummed the end of his pencil against his desk, and watched the minute hand tick by. His thoughts were everywhere but on his work. No. That was inaccurate. His thoughts were specifically in one place, on one person in particular.
Sephiroth of course. How could they not be? The invitation had been given and accepted. Tseng was to meet with the Great General at seven this evening. Had they said out loud te reasons for this meeting? No. But Tseng could read between the lines, could see the hunger in Sephiroth's eyes. Could read the desperation in that kiss they'd shared.
Tseng knew exactly where this evening was going. How could he concentrate on anything else? He'd always thought himself capable of focusing through any distraction, but clearly, his composure had never faced the prospect of sex with Sephiroth.
Just the thought was enough to send a shiver down Tseng's spine, complimenting the low curl of arousal that was building in his groin.
Tseng closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against his chair. He drew in several deep breaths, forcing calm where anticipation had taken control. He was more than ready for tonight and it showed.
"Whoa." A voice interceded on his thoughts, causing his eyes to pop open, finding Reno standing in his doorway, a smirk on his lips. "Whoever she is that caused that look on yer face, I gotta know, yo."
Tseng's eyes narrowed and he sat up, chair snapping into place. How his subordinate had managed to both open the door and stand there long enough to observe him spoke testament to Tseng's level of distraction. "Aren't you supposed to be on assignment?" he asked, avoiding Reno's insinuation.
One hand waved through the air. "Child's play. Been done with that since this mornin'." He snapped off the door frame, striding toward Tseng's desk with a prowling sort of grace that had attracted Tseng once upon a time, until Reno's personality drove him away. "I'm more interested in what's got ya so distracted, boss." The last was said with a purr as he leaned forward, planting his palms on Tseng's desk.
"And I wonder what Veld was thinking appointing you as subcommander in my absence," Tseng replied with a barely repressed snort.
Reno, however, was not fooled by Tseng's change of subject. "He knows talent when he sees it," he replied flippantly, and tilted his head to the side, blue eyes sharp and incisive. "Who, on all of Gaia, could have caught yer eye, I wonder. Not a civilian, that's for sure. Not another Turk, or I'd know. Someone else then."
Tseng returned his attention to his untouched paperwork, avoiding Reno's inquisitive stare. "I have work to finish before my leave, Reno."
"Military?" Reno continued as though Tseng hadn't spoken, and he stepped back, one hand tapping his chin. "Would have to be. You wouldn't settle for anythin' less than command, too, I wager. And ya do have taste, so that leaves out Heidegger." His lips curved with a familiar, mischievous intent.
Trying not to twitch, Tseng gathered up his many stacks of unsigned documents and clipped them all together, shoving them in the top drawer of his desk. "Are you done?" he demanded as he locked the drawer and slipped his keys back into his pocket, rising to his feet in the same motion.
Reno smirked. "Do ya really think I need ta guess, yo?"
Ignoring him, Tseng edged around his desk, glancing at his clock. A quarter to five. Hmm, close enough. "I am going on leave, Reno, but I will return. Don't think I'll have forgotten this irritation by then."
Reno laughed, following him out of his office, lingering even when Tseng made it obvious he had no interest in listening to his subordinate. "I think it'll be good for you. You could stand to relax, boss."
This time, Tseng completely ignored Reno, heading directly through the outer office and toward the hallway beyond it. Reno's added comment to have fun followed him out the door, but luckily, Reno himself did not follow.
Tseng went home, anticipation curling in his belly, his thoughts bouncing in a million different directions. He showered, was too nervous to eat anything more than a cup of coffee, and packed a bag. For anyone watching, it would appear as though he had met with Sephiroth for some sparring.
At seven o'clock precisely, he arrived at Sephiroth's apartment and pressed the buzzer to announce himself before he could lose his nerve. He waited, with growing expectation, heart thudding in his chest.
The door opened. Sephiroth stood in the entryway, looking utterly edible in a pair of dress slacks and a button-down shirt, the top button loosened and revealing a patch of pale skin. Tseng's mouth went dry.
"Tseng." A smile twitched at the corner of his lips.
"Sephiroth." Tseng inclined his head.
"Please come in."
All perfectly polite conversation with no hint that Tseng was gobbling Sephiroth up with his eyes, or that he intended to divest Sephiroth of his clothes at the first available opportunity. As Tseng entered and Sephiroth closed the door behind him, Tseng could feel the heated intent of Sephiroth's gaze on him, taking in Tseng's more casual attire, a pair of comfortable jeans and a wool sweater.
The lock on the door engaged with a click; Tseng dropped his bag inside the hallway with a noisy thump.
"What's in the bag?" Sephiroth asked. He sounded amused.
Tseng smirked. "My cover." He paused, gaze flicking around the hallway, noting the three visible doors and the open room at the end, obviously some kind of main area. "Are you going to give me a tour?"
"I thought we were here to spar."
Tseng tossed a look over his shoulder, noting the teasing glint in jade eyes, the way they narrowed with an evident hunger. "If you'd prefer to do so..."
"I didn't say that." Sephiroth gestured ahead of him. "We should start with the main room then."
And so it went. Tseng followed Sephiroth into the massive main room, which was decorated in muted shades of black and grey. One side was decked out like a small gym, with enough open flooring for sparring.
It was very austere, very formal, and very cold. It didn't look lived in, leaving Tseng to wonder if Sephiroth actually spent much time in his apartment. He didn't own a television or sound system, but a bookshelf was packed with books. Tseng nodded approvingly.
Sephiroth then showed him the kitchens, also looking as though they didn't get much use, and Tseng spied several empty cartons of take out in the trash can. The office held more bookcases and a powered down computer terminal. The bathroom had a tub/shower stall combo that was big enough for two, prompting Tseng's mind to go down a distinctly erotic route. Not that he hadn't already been inundated with fantasies.
He was this close to Sephiroth, breathing in the man's heady cologne, practically feeling the tangible heat from the General's body. He could feel Sephiroth's gaze on him and every time Sephiroth touched his arm to guide him, Tseng burned. He wanted. He needed and he wasn't sure how much longer his patience would last.
"This," Sephiroth said, opening a door and gesturing inside, "is my bedroom."
Tseng stepped inside, eyes glancing around approvingly. The bed was large enough for four and seemed to take up most of the room. There were more bookshelves, too. Tseng nodded. This would do.
"I noticed you saved the best for last," Tseng said, half-turning to face the other man who had entered completely, moving to stand next to the Turk.
Jade eyes darkened. "Does it suit?"
"It's perfect," Tseng replied, in a tone that was better described as a purr. He turned, hooked his fingers in Sephiroth's shirt, and dragged the General in for a kiss. Without Sephiroth's intimidating books, they were nearly the same height, which made things a lot easier.
Their mouths crashed together and Tseng moaned into the kiss, pressing against Sephiroth, rubbing their bodies together. Arms came up around him, Sephiroth crushing Tseng to him, his fingers pressing against Tseng's spine as the other hand wandered lower, squeezing and groping through the thick fabric of his jeans.
Tseng went from half-hard to desperately needy in the span of a few seconds. He rolled his hips against Sephiroth's, hungry for friction, loving the taste of Sephiroth on his tongue. His hands smoothed across Sephiroth's chest, one arm curling around the General's neck as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling wetly with Sephiroth's.
Sephiroth was rocking against him, the length of his cock a tangible bulge in the front of his pants. He was no less effected by the kiss, a thought which made Tseng quite giddy.
He reluctantly broke off the kiss, half-breathless, heat flushing his entire body. "Bed?" he suggested.
"Naked," Sephiroth agreed.
Tseng attacked Sephiroth's buttons with a vengeance and battle-scarred hands went for Tseng's belt and zipper. Both articles of clothing were gone in a flash. Sephiroth's pale throat and collarbones were bared and Tseng dropped his mouth to them, laving the ridge of bone with his tongue.
Sephiroth drew in air sharply, pushed down Tseng's boxers, and curled fingers around the Turk's aching length. He stroked Tseng skillfully, Tseng bucking into his hold, liberal amounts of precome easing the way.
Tseng reached for Sephiroth's pants, stripping the General out of them as quickly as possible, pleased to find that Sephiroth wore no underwear. Kinky. He curled fingers around Sephiroth's cock with one hand, and traced the knob of a hipbone with the other. Sephiroth's skin was so pale, all Tseng wanted to do was leave marks in it.
A low groan echoed in Sephiroth's throat. His fingers clenched in their hold of Tseng's cock, a brief squeeze that dragged a noise from Tseng. One that he wasn't sure he would be willing to admit to later.
Sephiroth chuckled, a wholly erotic sound. "I wonder what other sounds I can wring from you."
"Take me to the bed and find out," Tseng replied huskily.
Invitation given, Sephiroth accepted, tipping both Tseng and he to the bed where they landed with a bounce and a tangle of limbs. There was an amusing struggle as Tseng sought to disentangle his pants from his feet and Sephiroth did the same, but then hands and mouths returned to where they ought to be.
Tseng managed to grab a handful of silver hair, fingers running through the silky length of it, while his other hand curled around Sephiroth's cock once again. He threw a leg over the silver-haired man's hips, dragging Sephiroth closer, into a delicious, steady grind. Sephiroth was no less busy, his mouth ruthlessly devouring Tseng's throat, one hand finding a nipple and rolling the sensitive flesh until it pebbled beneath his touch. Tseng arched with a bitten off cry, hating how sensitive his nipples were but loving the pleasurable sensations that were rocketing through him.
"There's another one," Sephiroth said against Tseng's throat, his voice a pleasing rumble that made Tseng shiver.
Tseng released Sephiroth's length and curled an arm around the general, dragging them closer for a satisfying grind. Pleasure shot through him, his pulse throbbing in his veins, as he danced the line of release.
"Are you going to count them all?" he asked, and nipped at Sephiroth's ear, breathing hotly over the curled shell.
Sephiroth growled and Tseng's world shifted sideways as Sephiroth threw his weight around, pinning Tseng beneath him. He grabbed both Tseng's hands, pinning them to the bed beside Tseng's head, his hair a silver curtain around their faces. Sephiroth lowered himself down, their groins coming into spine-tingling contact, their lengths sparring and rubbing, exchanging slick fluids.
"Maybe later," Sephiroth said, and his lips crashed over Tseng's, a desperate kiss that made Tseng groan in his throat. He bucked up against Sephiroth, even as the other man ground down against him.
His pulse racing, breathing stuttered, Tseng gripped Sephiroth's hands. Their bodies pushed and pulled, rocking together, arching toward climax. He moaned into the kiss, Sephiroth's tongue tangling with his own. He could hear the sound of Sephiroth's quickened breathing, he could feel the weight and heat of the general above him.
Tseng's arousal shot into overdrive, his every fantasy come to life in bright technicolor. He felt like he'd been straddling the edge for hours, dancing on the tip of arousal, waiting for Sephiroth to touch him, and to be able to touch Sephiroth in return.
When his release came, it struck him like lightning. Tseng jolted, breaking off from the kiss with a gasp, head thrown back, body surrendering to pleasure. He spurted between their bodies, creating a sticky mess. He bucked up harshly, slamming his hips against Sephiroth's, body undulating beneath the other man's.
Sephiroth breathed a curse, his jade eyes bright with arousal, his fingers tightening almost to the point of pain around Tseng's hands. He grunted, bore down, rigid length sliding messily against Tseng's sensitive flesh. It came as no surprise when he followed Tseng's example within seconds, spilling between their bodies with a bitten off cry of pleasure.
For a moment, the only sound to be had was that of both men sucking in desperate breaths, Sephiroth losing energy and sinking down, resting his forehead on Tseng's bare collarbone. Silver hair mixed with black and sweaty bodies picked up a chill beneath the unrelenting breeze of the ceiling fan.
"Well," Tseng said, groping for something intelligent to say but his brain was no longer firing on all cylinders.
Sephiroth chuckled. "My opinion exactly." He gently released Tseng's hands, sitting back on his haunches as he straddled the Turk splayed out beneath him.
Tseng flexed his fingers, gazing at the delicious picture Sephiroth made. Hair tousled, skin flushed, stomach spattered with a mixture of their come.
"Well," Tseng repeated, licking his lips. "What now?"
Sephiroth flicked a hand through his hair and looked down at Tseng's belly, swirling his free hand through the combined release there. "We do this again. Preferably now." He lifted his hand, examining his finger, before casually tasting the spill on it.
Tseng's cock did a lurch of joy. "My opinion exactly," he said, and lunged forward, trying to pin the general beneath him. Wanting to do with his hands and mouth all the things he had ever fantasized about doing. Over and over, until they were both a dirtied, satiated mess.
Yes. That sounded just fine to him.
a/n: And this here would be the last one, my friends. I don't see any more in this series. I do hope you enjoyed.
Feedback is welcome and appreciated.