FIRST BLOOD – dream sequence

Cloud awoke from blissfully dreamless sleep to find himself slouched against the smooth mahogany of Hollcomb’s desk, his head pillowed against his arms. He blinked his eyes slowly as they adjusted to the gloom; he couldn’t remember turning the lights off but the office was lit only from the slight sliver of light that filtered through under the door. The blond raised his head painfully and felt his tendons and muscles scream in protest. He pushed himself up off the desk and raked a hand through his hair sluggishly. He probably hadn’t slept for very long, because he still felt exhausted, with the added bonus that his shoulders and back were now raking their own versions of hellish pain across his nerves.

Sighing, he got up and took a few wobbly steps towards the door before freezing completely; as he’d got to his feet he’d felt something brush past him, a dim sense of a presence nearby. Narrowing his eyes, willing himself to see clearly in the dim light, he swiftly surveyed the room. Hollcomb’s empty office, furnished with its narrow desk and overflowing shelves, seemed darkly sinister in the room. Heart beating erratically, he scanned the darkness nervously once more before turning back to the door with another sigh.

“Looking for something, Cloud?”

The blond’s breath caught in his throat, a smooth and tremulous hiss that sounded ridiculously loud in the quiet room. Sephiroth’s voice had come from directly behind him and Cloud forced himself to turn around nonchalantly.

“How the hell d’you get in here?”

The silver-haired man shrugged, and the slightest ghost of a smile teased the corner of his mouth. Cloud’s heart fluttered and he forced himself to scowl at Sephiroth.

“The door wasn’t locked.”

Which was in no way an explanation for the fact that the blond hadn’t seen him when he’d peered through the gloom or why the man had simply been waiting there in the dark. He shot the taller man a tired, dismissive look, forcing every single bit of impatience he could behind his expression. “Right. Have you spoken with Zack?”

Another shrug, and Sephiroth’s smile grew slightly wider, curling and twisting its way treacherously through Cloud’s rampant thoughts and straight to his groin. Definitely not good. What are you, sixteen? Get a grip on yourself!

“Zack is unimportant.”

Cloud froze, cursing the darkness; Sephiroth had moved slightly to his left and into a dim pool of light. The shadows that flowed across his handsome face turned it harsh and threatening, all sharp angles and glowing green. He stared at Cloud now, awaiting a reaction.

“What?”

“Zack doesn’t matter. Your little rebel friends don’t matter. Reeve certainly doesn’t matter and neither does his little neo-company,” Sephiroth intoned, walking outside the light to Cloud’s left. The blond jumped when he felt a hand brush against his shoulder and then the silver-haired man was standing right behind him.

Sephiroth’s hands travelled up both of the blond’s arms to rest lightly on his shoulders and Cloud struggled to maintain his facade of detached anger. He tensed, opened his mouth to protest and prepared to whirl around and push the other man back when Sephiroth leaned in and continued, breath rushing out in a soft caress against Cloud’s ear.

“But you, Cloud, matter very much.”

It was little more than a soft, whispered hiss, and over his own wildly beating heart it was barely audible. He was frozen, unable to think, to concentrate, to move, as the silver-haired man chuckled softly behind him. He felt one of Sephiroth’s hands leave his shoulder to cup his chin, fingers splaying against his throat, and he closed his eyes, unable now even to breathe.

Another breathless chuckle against his neck forced a shiver through him and he struggled to regain control of the situation before everything went to hell. Sephiroth’s presence was devastating; it filled his entire world, forced the air from his lungs and left him reeling and dizzy. He had to get out of here. He twisted his head slightly to jerk it out of the man’s grasp but Sephiroth reacted with lightning speed, squeezing his hand around his throat and dragging his chin firmly back into place.

Cloud’s heart stomach twisted in violent fear. He raised his arms to the hand that was wrapped around his throat and tried to pry the man’s fingers off. No sooner had he moved that another shock sent him reeling and he probably would have stumbled to his knees had Sephiroth not been supporting him.

The silver-haired man pulled Cloud’s head further to the side and ran a hot, moist tongue up the side of the blond’s neck all the way up to his jawline, where he nibbled slightly before withdrawing.

Cloud couldn’t have stopped the moan that wormed its way past his throat if his life had depended on it. The man’s touches were liquid fire against his flesh and he found himself pressed backwards against the other’s taller frame almost involuntarily; he doubted if he could manage to stand on his own without fluttering like a leaf. He couldn’t clear his eyes or focus his gaze. Behind him he heard, and felt, as Sephiroth sighed and shook his head.

“Everything I’ve done, Cloud, has been for you.”

And that pierced through the thick haze of lust that he was floating in. He struggled to clear his head. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Everything. You wanted to follow me out of Midgar, Cloud, and I took you away. You wanted to be scared of me, you wanted to hate me and so I made myself a great threat to you and everything you loved. I left destroyed creatures and burned memories for you to find and revisit.”

Cloud shook his head slightly, disbelieving. He struggled now against Sephiroth, but the man held tight.

“You wanted to be rid of the girl, Cloud, because she complicated things,” he continued, voice now turning accusatory. “I took care of that for you, Cloud. You wanted to be left alone, so I made them fear you, I made you a puppet and a tool. You wanted Tifa to stop chasing after you, and I made myself hard to forget.”

There was a pause, and Sephiroth’s voice was vicious when he spoke next. “You wanted to be alive again, to fight for something again, so I came back for you, Cloud. I’ve given you everything you’ve ever wanted. Everything!”

Cloud desperately fought to struggle out of the man’s grasp. He was spun furiously around and pushed back roughly until his thighs slammed against the edge of Hollcomb’s desk. Meeting Sephiroth’s gaze was like a slap to the face; the man’s features were angry and sharp, his eyes narrowed and pupils dilated. He held both of Cloud’s struggling hands in his own and leaned closer.

“You will give me this in return, Cloud.”

And his lips came crashing down against Cloud’s with no warning. Panic ignited within the blond in a thunderous wave. No, no, no, no, no, NO! Not like this. Never like this! He pushed against the older man, snarling, and struggled to free his trapped hands. Sephiroth pulled back with a smirk; there was a sort of twisted laughter dancing in his eyes, and as Cloud shoved, hard, against Sephiroth’s weight, he simply released one of the blond’s wrist and back-handed him with the flat of his hand.

Cloud’s head flew to the side and he crumpled against the desk, raising a trembling hand to his cheek. He made the mistake of checking for blood, eyes leaving the silver-haired man for slightly less than a second. When he looked up, the edge of Masamune came to rest against his exposed neck and he froze, his right hand instinctively traveling halfway to his hip. It was a pointless reaction; he’d left his sword by the door when he’d entered Hollcomb’s office.

“I offered to do this the easy way, Cloud.” Sephiroth offered him a small, twisted smile and a shrug. “You’re just so damned difficult to please.”

Pinned in an awkward crouch, the blade pressing against the tender skin of his neck, Cloud could only glare up at the man. “What the hell have you done with Zack? He would never have let you out of that lab. Not like this.”

Sephiroth met his glare coldly. A slight frown creased his forehead and he sneered at the blond. “You’re not concentrating, Cloud. I said before, Zack is unimportant. What I’m here for…” He paused, and a twisted smile was the only warning the blond got before Sephiroth’s sword arm swung sideways and back to drive the blade deep into Cloud’s shoulder.

His scream was cut short as Sephiroth closed the distance between them and slapped his free hand against the blond’s mouth, using his weight as leverage to drive the blade through Cloud’s flesh and between two of his ribs. When the blade had penetrated through to the wood, Sephiroth gave it a last push until its tip was several inches deep into Hollcomb’s desk, effectively pinning the blond in place.

His hand left Cloud’s mouth and the blond looked up in panic at Sephiroth’s face as the other leaned towards him, smirking.

“What I’m here for, Cloud…” Sephiroth repeated before dipping his head into the hollow of Cloud’s neck, trailing a path of feather-light bites down to his collarbone.

Cloud’s eyes were unfocused and staring, and his breath came in large ragged gasps. The blade in his shoulder was agony, and each intake of breath sent a fresh wave of pain and nausea coursing through him. He felt Sephiroth’s teeth on his neck sharply, felt the weight of the man press down on him as he leaned forward, felt a hand travel down to his shirt and push the material out of the way.

Felt the silver-haired man’s breath against his flesh as the words were breathed out just under his earlobe.

“… Is you, of course.”

The man’s touches sent waves of fire raging against his skin and Cloud bit back a sob of despair at how utterly fucked up he was. He could no more fight the man than fight his own heart, his own lust. Every touch, every brush of Sephiroth’s fingers against his skin pierced through the searing pain of the blade and the throbbing in his jaw. A small part of him wanted to fight, wanted to pull the blade out of his flesh and tear this man to shreds, but it was drowned out by the rushing noise of his heart thrumming in his ears.

He forced his mouth open, willing himself to react, to fight back, to scream, to do something to stop this madness.

There was really nothing he could say to prevent what was happening, but there was no chance to speak. Sephiroth’s grinning face was only a few inches away and then those smirking lips were pressed against his own, nibbling and teasing and unstoppable.

When he felt a strong hand reach down and snake its way into his pants to grip him in one long, languid stroke, Cloud threw his head back and moaned.

Amidst the swirling green of Sephiroth’s eyes, he surrendered.

* * *

Author’s notes

Posted this here first because it’s the very first bit of actual slash in this story, aside from the previous few dreams were Cloud was stuck in his own twisted memories; those weren’t quite as detailed and/or obvious. Just wanting to make sure I’m taking this in the right direction before offering it up to the world over at ff.net. Feel free to tear it apart if you like. Second scene in the chapter, unless I decide to switch things around a bit.