Okay. Remember this post?
This is a ficlet written for vynl based on that thread.
Rating: R? NC-17? I still can't figure out the cut-off between the two because I judge it by a different scale. Not consensual.
Warnings: If you *haven't* watched AC, please don't read this. It's got several spoilers. o_o;; And it's yaoi, so if that doesn't float your boat, umm... o.o yeah. you might find it offensive.
The air shook around them as they stared each other down, and at last, the power began to melt away, twisting and shimmering as it faded. Kadaj made no move to get up, seemingly content to gaze up at Shinra's president. Off to the left, the fallen Turks were still struggling to recover from what he'd hit them with, but Rufus didn't break Kadaj's stare to look towards them. A glance could be interpreted as too many things, especially in the wake of what Kadaj had just shown him, and the last thing he needed was for the other to think that look was a silent hope for help when he just wanted to know how injured they were.
"I'm glad you understand, President," Kadaj said at last, almost a purr. He relaxed his second knee to the floor and the move brought him closer to the president's wheelchair. "I think we will have fun working together now that you understand. You will not be so quick to lie to us again, will you?"
"I wouldn't think of it," Rufus answered calmly, and Kadaj's mouth curved into a smirk that was a little too hungry for his young face.
"I wonder what it's like," Kadaj mused, tilting his head to one side. Silver bangs fell into his face and across his throat, and an eye glowed through the strands as he continued to stare up at Rufus. The gaze traveled down from his hidden face, following the line of the hooded cape. A gloved hand came up, testing the armrest, and Rufus obediently shifted his hand to one side to allow him the exploration. There was no harm in it, though it wasn't a childlike curiosity that was etched on the other's face. "Tell me, President, what it means to be you. You have your own throne, do you not? You perch up there and command the rest of the world- do as I bid and I will grant you mercy. But one has to wonder what sort of mercy can be found in the sickness that you've cast upon the world."
Black-tipped fingers caught his hand, turning it so Kadaj could examine the marks of the Geostigma. A finger pressed down against them and pain lanced up Rufus's arm, white hot and piercing. Lips parted; breath hissed softly between his teeth. Kadaj smiled and set the hand back down, giving it a little pat.
"How is the view from your throne, President, when the world you stare at is as fallen as you?" Fingers slid over the cloth covering Rufus's thighs and he could feel the heat from the other's hands. "There has to be a way for you to atone for your sins. They would throw stones at you if only they knew where to find you, I am sure. And I?" He considered that, hands pressing down tighter. There was a shift of cloth off to one side as Reno made another attempt to get up, not liking the way the conversation was going or how close Kadaj was to Shinra's president. Kadaj sent him a sideways look, lifting a hand with a careless grace.
Reno choked on air and blood- Rufus heard his teeth clack over a wet gurgle and Kadaj came back up on his knees, stretching a leg out to the side to give the red-haired Turk a push with his boot. It rolled him onto his stomach and he coughed desperately for air. Kadaj's smile widened and he looked back towards Rufus, settling on his knees again. Elbows were pressed into the chair to either side of the president's knees and he leaned forward over Rufus's lap. The older man could almost feel his breath on his face, but perhaps that was his imagination.
"We are pleased with the destruction you've managed to bring about on this hateful planet, even if we will never forgive you for what you've done to Mother," he informed Rufus. "So we will pay you that mixed homage. This is how you would like it, isn't it? We are on our knees in front of you to offer gratitude."
"Common sense tells me that your gratitude is an unhealthy thing to collect."
Kadaj laughed at his calm words and lowered his hands. They were hot against Rufus's hips and it was through sheer force of will that he didn't tense at the heavy hold. He wanted to move his left arm; his fingers tightened where they were closed around the box his men had retrieved for him and he had the distinct impression that Kadaj was just heartbeats away from being able to pick up on it. That he hadn't yet was a miracle of sorts, Rufus supposed, but this close contact was pushing it.
"You'll take what I have to give you," Kadaj assured him. Fingers curled in the material of his cape and pushed. Fists slid up Rufus's chest, dragging the ends of the cloak up towards his knees. "And you'll be grateful for it."
Too close. Rufus shifted, trying to move his arm without letting the cloak highlight the sharp corners of the box. "Stop."
"President?" Kadaj's smile was lazy and bright mako-infected eyes were half-lidded and glowing. His voice was a purr again and Rufus's internal alarms went off at the look. He could feel himself tensing and he couldn't stop it. Kadaj felt it; there was no way he couldn't. If anything, the edges of his smile just pulled wider. "You don't have the right to tell me to stop."
He caught the end of the cloak and pushed it up, bunching it up at Rufus's hips. The president lifted a hand, moving to catch Kadaj's wrist. The youth let himself be grabbed and simply lifted his other hand, closing it tight around Rufus's. Dark marks on pale skin jumped to life, twisting and burning as if they were eating their way through the skin into bone and marrow. He felt his ragged breath more than he heard it, felt it rip through clenched lungs as the pain streaked up to burn in his throat. He heard Reno say something- rather, heard Reno try to say something, but it was more noise than actual words.
Kadaj tossed the hand carelessly to one side and Rufus couldn't make his muscles listen to him. His arm was like a dead thing that was connected to him at the shoulder, limp and pulsing with pain, and it hung off the side of the wheelchair. Kadaj's fingers found the hem of his pants and Rufus told himself he must be imagining things, except that when he blinked it was burned into his eyelids, and it hadn't changed when he opened his eyes again. Fingers clenched even tighter around the edges of his precious box, knuckles white against metal that had long since grown warm, since he couldn't exactly lower the case to push Kadaj to one side.
"Stop," he said again.
The click of metal, the hiss of a zipper, and he couldn't get his right arm to listen to him. Kadaj was ignoring him completely and leather slid against bare skin. "Our gift to you, President," he said, and lips curled back in a toothy smirk. "Shinra."
"Nnnpres-" Reno tried. He had been rolled so that he was looking away and Rufus found himself glad suddenly that he couldn't see what was going on. Rude, on the other hand, was face down, and Rufus finally flicked a quick look their direction when he saw the bald man start to shift in preparation to face them.
"No," he said, and it was a wonder Rude knew which one of them he was talking to. He saw the other man's shoulders tense at the order. "No," he said again, flatter now, and Rude's fingers curled into fists against the floor as he made himself relax again.
Kadaj laughed. "Don't you want them to see, President?" he asked, a lazy taunt, as he gave Rufus's pants a sharp tug. It brought him forward on the chair; his head hit the cushion behind him and he clenched the box against him, hard enough that he knew the edge was going to leave a bruise where it was digging in. "The young should always aspire to be like the old, shouldn't they, and follow faithfully in their footsteps. The exception is, of course, if the older should fail. Then the younger needs to find a different way to do it. A better way to do it. The dream is still the same; the goal is still the same. All it takes is a little more work, a little more drive, a little more imagination." He smiled up at Rufus, taking in the other's closed off expression. "A little more need."
And with that, he lowered his head.
Rufus had told himself not to react- not to tense, not to move, not to close his eyes. But Kadaj's mouth was on his skin, hot and wet and unwanted, and his teeth clenched tight enough that he felt his jaw pop. Gloved fingers dug into his thighs hard enough to hurt and silver hair spilled around Kadaj's head, sliding over an exposed abdomen and bare thighs. He wasn't breathing- couldn't breathe, because he didn't know what it would sound like. Eyes clenched shut for a moment before he forced them open and he fixed his gaze on the far wall, searching for anything that was better to look at, better to focus on, than the fact that Sephiroth's youngest clone was sucking him off.
Rufus remembered for a moment that life had been normal years ago, but it was a fleeting thought and he couldn't really remember what it had been like.
He had to breathe; his exhale was a ragged, sharp burst of air and the inhale was strained. He had enough feeling in his arm to lift his hand to the arm of the chair. It moved no further than that, as pain was knifing through the weakened muscles, and he clenched his fingers as tightly as he could on the hand rest.
Gloved hands slid down his legs, over his knees and down the length of his calves. When they came back up, they caught Rufus's knees and pushed them further apart. It changed the angle, changed the heat, and Rufus damned himself that his body was reacting to this when it should have known better. Teeth and tongue scraped over sensitive flesh and his chest was tight as he kept his breaths and his protests locked inside. Kadaj was undeterred by the silence; hands slid over thighs once more, and one hand closed around the base of an erection Rufus didn't want to admit was his. The other hand pressed against a flat abdomen and slid upwards, and Rufus forced his hand to move. The need to keep Kadaj from brushing against what was hidden beneath his cloak was enough, at last, that he could throw his hand from the arm rest and catch Kadaj's wrist. There was more than pride riding on this, more than dignity and decency. This was the fate of the world, tucked inside a black box and digging into his ribcage.
He had to breathe, and he hated the sound of this breath even more this time than the last. Once he'd started breathing again, he couldn't stop, and he thought he heard Kadaj laugh at the tight, strained sound of it. The silver haired youth let him hold onto his hand, content to keep his gloved fingers pressed against smooth skin. Rufus wanted to reach out and tear the hair from his skull.
Lips and tongue and heat and not this, not this, and not him-
His head tilted back; teeth gritted and slid against each other. His fingers flexed and tightened on Kadaj's hand as the other man worked him down to madness. There was a roaring in his ears and he struggled to hear through it, struggled to look past this moment and what was going on. It was impossible to get distracted from this, however- impossible to escape him.
"Don't," he heard himself say, but it was far too late and he wasn't sure anymore which one of them he was talking to.
Kadaj moved his hand and swallowed him to the hilt, and Rufus felt his hips lift from the chair, canting slightly towards the other. Fingernails bit into Kadaj's hand as he realized what was doing and Kadaj's free hand traced patterns down his side. A mouth slid free; warm breath ghosted over sensitive skin. Kadaj tilted his head to one side, just enough to peer up at Rufus's tight expression, and his smile was wicked. He pushed himself to his feet in a lithe move and Rufus forced himself not to lean back away from him. It wasn't like there was anywhere to go anyway. Kadaj's free hand lifted to his hood, fingers curling in material and the hair hidden beneath. The grip had the material falling across his eyes, blinding him, and then a mouth was on his as his other hand started to move.
He tried to pull his head away, but Kadaj wouldn't let him move. Fingernails dug into the black metal of the box and the arm rest of his chair as Kadaj kissed him hard enough to hurt; a soft mouth was bruising against his. When a tongue pushed past his lips Rufus's first thought was to bite down, and power hissed through his veins, wicked sharp and biting. He heard a strangled sound and realized it was his, and Kadaj pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth as he laughed. Strands of hair were pulled free as Kadaj pushed his hood further up on his head and he met the other's brilliant stare, willing himself to give nothing away in the look.
He wasn't sure he succeeded; he didn't know if that smirk Kadaj sent him was because he lost that fight or because the other was amused by his defiance. A hand tightened around him; breath stuttered through aching lips and Kadaj was right in his face again, kissing him. Their eyes locked over the kiss and Rufus felt some of the cushion on his arm rest peel up under his clenched fingers.
He couldn't fight it. Up, up, up, and he lost the battle. Everything pulled tight for one sharp instant and Rufus thought perhaps he hated himself most for closing his eyes at the last moment, not wanting Kadaj to see what was in them, as the other forced release from him.
They stayed that for a long moment afterwards, breathing in and out of each other with Kadaj's stare burning holes in Rufus's eyelids, before Kadaj was finally satisfied enough to pull back. Two fingertips pressed against the bottom of Rufus's chin, tilting his head back for a last kiss as the other straightened, and Rufus opened his eyes at last. He watched as the teenager neatly refastened his pants and smoothed the shroud back over them, feeling oddly detached from the moment. Kadaj finished just a few moments later and bright mako-eyes turned on his face again.
He made sure Rufus was watching when he wiped his hands off on the cream-colored cloth, and Kadaj straightened once more to his full height. Rufus considered his smile from the shadows of his hood, slowly noticing the pain in his fingers where they had locked on the box he held close to his chest, and something almost vicious knifed through his gut at the realization that Kadaj still didn't know.
"It's been a pleasure, President," Kadaj assured him. "I will see you again soon." He turned away and started towards the door, and Rufus watched him, fingernails sliding against black metal in hungry, hateful anticipation. The youth stopped over the fallen Turks to eye them a few moments, then dismissed them with a condescending "Hn!" and kept going.
The door clicked into place behind him and silence followed in his wake- silence as the Turks tried to figure out what they were supposed to do and say, silence as Rufus thought towards the future and a time when he would see those bright eyes shatter like stained glass windows.
"I will be in my room," he said at last, because it was all he could say, and his fallen bodyguards said nothing as his chair glided from the room.
Oh-so appropriate icon yoinked from one of continuum's icon posts.