A Pleasant Aftermath...Until They Get Home.
Who: Cloud Strife and Sephiroth
What: Sephiroth seeks sanctuary with Cloud. Cloud does the unavoidable and introduces him to AVALANCHE, with not so expected results.
Where: Edge of a forest to Seventh Heaven Bar
When: After this nws thread.
Rating: PG-13 to R? There might be some violence involved.
((Not a part of spiral_rpg.))
He's a grown man, and yet no matter how much water he splashes on his face, he can't stop blushing.
It's not that he's an untried youth...far from it. The main problem here is that he can't remember whether he's had relations with Zack, and what the extent of those relations were. His memories are spotty at best on the most optimistic of days, and downright broken on the worst.
He doesn't think this will be part of those days forgotten.
Cloud gives up and screws the cap back onto the water flask, the sound of scraping metal louder than normal in the quietness of the forest. He knows no amount of liquid is going to keep the heat down. He can feel the flush flaring every time his eyes are attracted towards Sephiroth... The man must have decided that wandering around coatless is easier for early morning rituals than Cloud would have thought. He swallows, feeling heat pooling in interesting areas of his body, as the corded muscles in Sephiroth's arm flexes while he retrieves his belongings.
Staring at his arms naturally leads to staring at his legs, and his hair, and his...other parts as he bends over. Cloud adjusts his position, busying himself with pulling on gloves. Both of them. Sephiroth had torn the other one off with a growl, just after flipping him over onto his knees, barring his insecurities, inadequacies, and sense of failure all in one move. But the man had done nothing at the sight of Cloud's shame, said nothing but hot whispered words about how Cloud felt to him. His eyes soften, inevitably drawn towards Sephiroth again as his mind turns and mulls that over.
He had been vulnerable, pliable. Easily exploitable.
Sephiroth hadn't done anything.
Unaware of the soft, barely there smile taking residence on his face, Cloud continues to Sephiroth-watch. He's also unaware of the vision he makes, hair tousled messier than their usual spikes, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, quickly fading bruises along his neck though one does cling stubbornly to a distinct shade of purple. Though his clothes are in order, being of simple zips and buckles, it's obvious to anyone who looks that he's been thoroughly worked.
What: Sephiroth seeks sanctuary with Cloud. Cloud does the unavoidable and introduces him to AVALANCHE, with not so expected results.
Where: Edge of a forest to Seventh Heaven Bar
When: After this nws thread.
Rating: PG-13 to R? There might be some violence involved.
((Not a part of spiral_rpg.))
He's a grown man, and yet no matter how much water he splashes on his face, he can't stop blushing.
It's not that he's an untried youth...far from it. The main problem here is that he can't remember whether he's had relations with Zack, and what the extent of those relations were. His memories are spotty at best on the most optimistic of days, and downright broken on the worst.
He doesn't think this will be part of those days forgotten.
Cloud gives up and screws the cap back onto the water flask, the sound of scraping metal louder than normal in the quietness of the forest. He knows no amount of liquid is going to keep the heat down. He can feel the flush flaring every time his eyes are attracted towards Sephiroth... The man must have decided that wandering around coatless is easier for early morning rituals than Cloud would have thought. He swallows, feeling heat pooling in interesting areas of his body, as the corded muscles in Sephiroth's arm flexes while he retrieves his belongings.
Staring at his arms naturally leads to staring at his legs, and his hair, and his...other parts as he bends over. Cloud adjusts his position, busying himself with pulling on gloves. Both of them. Sephiroth had torn the other one off with a growl, just after flipping him over onto his knees, barring his insecurities, inadequacies, and sense of failure all in one move. But the man had done nothing at the sight of Cloud's shame, said nothing but hot whispered words about how Cloud felt to him. His eyes soften, inevitably drawn towards Sephiroth again as his mind turns and mulls that over.
He had been vulnerable, pliable. Easily exploitable.
Sephiroth hadn't done anything.
Unaware of the soft, barely there smile taking residence on his face, Cloud continues to Sephiroth-watch. He's also unaware of the vision he makes, hair tousled messier than their usual spikes, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, quickly fading bruises along his neck though one does cling stubbornly to a distinct shade of purple. Though his clothes are in order, being of simple zips and buckles, it's obvious to anyone who looks that he's been thoroughly worked.