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[Sephiroth listens carefully, trying to discern where this is going. Some of this, he suspected, but... there were enough missing pieces that he never quite grasped the depths of it. The implication that Angeal and Genesis were created in a sense is enough to put Sephiroth into shock.
Playing god with human lives--
But if only that's where Angeal's explanation ended. He goes on, talking about his poor mother and then...
'I couldn't remove the blight that I am--'
No... Sephiroth's heart stops for a moment, because-- Angeal surely couldn't have wanted to end his life...
'So I was going to force Zack to do it.'
To say that this revelation upsets Sephiroth is... putting it lightly. It hits him like a freight train. No longer relaxed, he pushes off from the desk and rises back to his full height.] What? [He'd known something was wrong, and he elected not to intervene. It's clear that he should have, but he's grateful to this other person - he assumes Zack - for interrupting Angeal's suicidal inclinations. And Zack-- being put in that position must have been terribly painful for him. Sephiroth is struggling to even put to words how he feels, himself-- anger, sorrow, relief. It's all muddied together, gripping his chest like a vice.]
Angeal... [He hesitates, searching for the right words.] Nothing about you is a blight on this planet, nor is any part of you monstrous.
[Maybe that's easy to say when he's not the one going through it, but... he drifts towards Angeal regardless. He's always been a little awkward with affection; he never got much experience with it. But he reaches both hands out, grasping Angeal's arms at the elbows.]
I-- didn't realize you were feeling this way... ['Why didn't you talk to me?' is what Sephiroth starts to ask, but... no. He knows Angeal well enough by now to know why. More than likely, he thought himself a burden. He reconsiders his words and starts again.] Losing Genesis was painful enough. I can't bear to lose you, too.
Playing god with human lives--
But if only that's where Angeal's explanation ended. He goes on, talking about his poor mother and then...
'I couldn't remove the blight that I am--'
No... Sephiroth's heart stops for a moment, because-- Angeal surely couldn't have wanted to end his life...
'So I was going to force Zack to do it.'
To say that this revelation upsets Sephiroth is... putting it lightly. It hits him like a freight train. No longer relaxed, he pushes off from the desk and rises back to his full height.] What? [He'd known something was wrong, and he elected not to intervene. It's clear that he should have, but he's grateful to this other person - he assumes Zack - for interrupting Angeal's suicidal inclinations. And Zack-- being put in that position must have been terribly painful for him. Sephiroth is struggling to even put to words how he feels, himself-- anger, sorrow, relief. It's all muddied together, gripping his chest like a vice.]
Angeal... [He hesitates, searching for the right words.] Nothing about you is a blight on this planet, nor is any part of you monstrous.
[Maybe that's easy to say when he's not the one going through it, but... he drifts towards Angeal regardless. He's always been a little awkward with affection; he never got much experience with it. But he reaches both hands out, grasping Angeal's arms at the elbows.]
I-- didn't realize you were feeling this way... ['Why didn't you talk to me?' is what Sephiroth starts to ask, but... no. He knows Angeal well enough by now to know why. More than likely, he thought himself a burden. He reconsiders his words and starts again.] Losing Genesis was painful enough. I can't bear to lose you, too.
[ Thud!
It takes a moment for Angeal to realize that it's his legs that gave out, even with Sepiroth's hold on his arms, and he's dropped on his knees before him, looking up at the other man with his eyes stinging, and helplessly grateful and adoring.
So much for being strong for him.
He struggles to make his lungs work, for a moment, then. ]
I- I'm sorry.
[ Less for dropping like this, though he is, and more for--
For doubting Sephiroth. ]
I stayed away so I wouldn't taint you. But I - I was, also, paralyzingly terrified that you would think otherwise.
[ The older Sephiroth was fury and ragged ages and pain, carrying the burden of all that had happened. That he would not find Angeal monstrous seemed more natural. That his Sephiroth, the hero, the example, the bright hope for so many, would not - that he would reassure Angeal. It is too much, all at once. ]
It takes a moment for Angeal to realize that it's his legs that gave out, even with Sepiroth's hold on his arms, and he's dropped on his knees before him, looking up at the other man with his eyes stinging, and helplessly grateful and adoring.
So much for being strong for him.
He struggles to make his lungs work, for a moment, then. ]
I- I'm sorry.
[ Less for dropping like this, though he is, and more for--
For doubting Sephiroth. ]
I stayed away so I wouldn't taint you. But I - I was, also, paralyzingly terrified that you would think otherwise.
[ The older Sephiroth was fury and ragged ages and pain, carrying the burden of all that had happened. That he would not find Angeal monstrous seemed more natural. That his Sephiroth, the hero, the example, the bright hope for so many, would not - that he would reassure Angeal. It is too much, all at once. ]
[ Angeal does not struggle or flinch at the rough hold on his chin, and he certainly doesn't try to keep back from the kiss, rough and hungry and ungentle as it is.
In fact, after a few moments, he moans into it, half melting against Sephiroth's body and kissing back, just as hungrily. He lets Sephiroth take the lead, but he meets him halfway. Not letting the kiss be a conquest and surrender, but staking a claim that they are equals. That Sephiroth has him back fully, not as a toy, but as a partner.
And...
A part of him, the part that is exhausted from fighting against the darkness and despair and loneliness for all these years, the part that gave up once, and has been slowly, hopelessly keeping him moving forward? Properly sparks up to life for the first time since Genesis dropped the knowledge on him.
Sephiroth wants him, still.
After... he returned to himself, post the rejection by the Lifestream, when he began to learn about things, he had... thought it might be the case. But he had not properly allowed himself to hope, not even as he was offering himself to Sephiroth just now.
But Sephiroth wants him. Sephiroth, who has been made larger than life, more powerful than any person born to a woman - with all that power, and all that pain, and all weight upon him, Sephiroth wants him still.
When the kiss breaks, eventually, his eyes half-open to drink in the sight he's missed so badly. ]
Yes.
[ That kiss was not a question.
But Sephiroth needs to know that, whatever he needs right now, whatever he takes, he has Angeal's consent. Certain. Enthusiastic, even.
Right now, Sephiroth might not care.
Later, he likely will.
And he leans in for another kiss.
They have all the time, but there are so many years to make up for. There will be time for gentleness later. There will be time for Angeal to find ways to take all Sephiroth's pain away, slowly, systematically luring his mind into peacefulness.
Now, it is passion and fury and need, and he's fine with that. ]
In fact, after a few moments, he moans into it, half melting against Sephiroth's body and kissing back, just as hungrily. He lets Sephiroth take the lead, but he meets him halfway. Not letting the kiss be a conquest and surrender, but staking a claim that they are equals. That Sephiroth has him back fully, not as a toy, but as a partner.
And...
A part of him, the part that is exhausted from fighting against the darkness and despair and loneliness for all these years, the part that gave up once, and has been slowly, hopelessly keeping him moving forward? Properly sparks up to life for the first time since Genesis dropped the knowledge on him.
Sephiroth wants him, still.
After... he returned to himself, post the rejection by the Lifestream, when he began to learn about things, he had... thought it might be the case. But he had not properly allowed himself to hope, not even as he was offering himself to Sephiroth just now.
But Sephiroth wants him. Sephiroth, who has been made larger than life, more powerful than any person born to a woman - with all that power, and all that pain, and all weight upon him, Sephiroth wants him still.
When the kiss breaks, eventually, his eyes half-open to drink in the sight he's missed so badly. ]
Yes.
[ That kiss was not a question.
But Sephiroth needs to know that, whatever he needs right now, whatever he takes, he has Angeal's consent. Certain. Enthusiastic, even.
Right now, Sephiroth might not care.
Later, he likely will.
And he leans in for another kiss.
They have all the time, but there are so many years to make up for. There will be time for gentleness later. There will be time for Angeal to find ways to take all Sephiroth's pain away, slowly, systematically luring his mind into peacefulness.
Now, it is passion and fury and need, and he's fine with that. ]
Angeal--
[It's so sudden, Sephiroth can't quite catch the other man before he goes down-- his hands end up uselessly sliding off his arms. But there's something about the way that Angeal looks up at him just then that pulls at him-- something he can't quite quantify.
And then he's speaking of tainting him-- like he hasn't been a beacon of compassion, responsibility, and hope for not just Sephiroth and Genesis, but so many of the people who looked up to him in SOLDIER. Angeal has always been a modest man, but this--? It makes Sephiroth's chest ache to see and hear him behave with such self-loathing.
Faintly, Sephiroth shakes his head and eventually comes to sink down to the floor with Angeal. He's never quite sure about the norms in a lot of social situations, but if ever there were a situation that qualified for a hug, it's this. He doesn't hesitate, nor does he make Angeal come to him. He leans in to hook an arm around the other man's shoulders, while the other hand comes around to cradle the back of his head, letting his fingers thread through his raven hair.
He's not sure what to say-- doesn't even think anything he could say would adequately convey what he needs it to, so...
Instead, he lets the embrace speak for him. How could he ever throw you away, Angeal?]
[It's so sudden, Sephiroth can't quite catch the other man before he goes down-- his hands end up uselessly sliding off his arms. But there's something about the way that Angeal looks up at him just then that pulls at him-- something he can't quite quantify.
And then he's speaking of tainting him-- like he hasn't been a beacon of compassion, responsibility, and hope for not just Sephiroth and Genesis, but so many of the people who looked up to him in SOLDIER. Angeal has always been a modest man, but this--? It makes Sephiroth's chest ache to see and hear him behave with such self-loathing.
Faintly, Sephiroth shakes his head and eventually comes to sink down to the floor with Angeal. He's never quite sure about the norms in a lot of social situations, but if ever there were a situation that qualified for a hug, it's this. He doesn't hesitate, nor does he make Angeal come to him. He leans in to hook an arm around the other man's shoulders, while the other hand comes around to cradle the back of his head, letting his fingers thread through his raven hair.
He's not sure what to say-- doesn't even think anything he could say would adequately convey what he needs it to, so...
Instead, he lets the embrace speak for him. How could he ever throw you away, Angeal?]
[ Angeal quivers, in that hold. His arms move, then hesitate. Then reach up to embrace Sephiroth, holding on around his entire torso, tight, and he lets his forehead drop gently against Sephiroth's shoulder, cradled between the pauldron and the column of the other man's neck. And he finally, properly breaks.
Angeal had a moderately normal, if poor, childhood. He had parents who loved him, and let him feel safe when he needed to.
Then he started growing up, and his father... sacrificed himself for Angeal's sake, in a way, and from that point forward, he was the one who needed to make people feel protected, secure. Becoming SOLDIER, becoming a First, only made that determination stronger. And then... then he broke out on his own, but he still tried to give protection, to give to others care and consideration, even as his mind sank deeper and deeper.
Then, all of this day happened, and he was shaken yet again, and braced himself, and braced himself more, and here he is--
And Sephiroth holds him, stronger and that tiny bit older and, in his ways, so wise, and for the first time in years, he feels...
Safe.
The sobs that wrack his body are silent. The tears hot, thick. For himself, but also for Genesis, and also for Sephiroth, and Sephiroth's victims. For all those caught in the enormity of what comes and suffering for it. So long, so alone, without relief.
His hold on Sephiroth doesn't losen, through it all, though he does his best to only lean his forehead against him and not stain him with tears or snot. But he can't stop himself from crying, not for a little while.
Eventually...
Eventually, he manages to take proper breaths, and his shoulders finally relax, just a little. He raises his head, careful to not dislodge Sephiroth's hand, and unwinds one arm from around the other man's body to wipe at his eyes with the back of his hand so he can look at him properly at the beautiful face before him.
And he can't help reaching up, to trace pale skin with his fingertips. ]
I am sorry. For... for breaking down like this. And for leaving. And for doubting you.
But, more than that. Thank you, Sephiroth.
And...
[ His lips quirk, but he isn't bracing himself. Even should this Sephiroth not feel the same way (and a part of him dares to hope, here in the man's arms), he doesn't think his next words would make him push Angeal away. And that'll be enough. ]
You don't have to - answer, either way, but I think it's important for you to know this. I have been in love with you for almost as long as I have actually known you.
Angeal had a moderately normal, if poor, childhood. He had parents who loved him, and let him feel safe when he needed to.
Then he started growing up, and his father... sacrificed himself for Angeal's sake, in a way, and from that point forward, he was the one who needed to make people feel protected, secure. Becoming SOLDIER, becoming a First, only made that determination stronger. And then... then he broke out on his own, but he still tried to give protection, to give to others care and consideration, even as his mind sank deeper and deeper.
Then, all of this day happened, and he was shaken yet again, and braced himself, and braced himself more, and here he is--
And Sephiroth holds him, stronger and that tiny bit older and, in his ways, so wise, and for the first time in years, he feels...
Safe.
The sobs that wrack his body are silent. The tears hot, thick. For himself, but also for Genesis, and also for Sephiroth, and Sephiroth's victims. For all those caught in the enormity of what comes and suffering for it. So long, so alone, without relief.
His hold on Sephiroth doesn't losen, through it all, though he does his best to only lean his forehead against him and not stain him with tears or snot. But he can't stop himself from crying, not for a little while.
Eventually...
Eventually, he manages to take proper breaths, and his shoulders finally relax, just a little. He raises his head, careful to not dislodge Sephiroth's hand, and unwinds one arm from around the other man's body to wipe at his eyes with the back of his hand so he can look at him properly at the beautiful face before him.
And he can't help reaching up, to trace pale skin with his fingertips. ]
I am sorry. For... for breaking down like this. And for leaving. And for doubting you.
But, more than that. Thank you, Sephiroth.
And...
[ His lips quirk, but he isn't bracing himself. Even should this Sephiroth not feel the same way (and a part of him dares to hope, here in the man's arms), he doesn't think his next words would make him push Angeal away. And that'll be enough. ]
You don't have to - answer, either way, but I think it's important for you to know this. I have been in love with you for almost as long as I have actually known you.
[Oh Angeal...
It speaks volumes to the way he's been suffering in silence all this time that Sephiroth hooking him into a genuine embrace makes him crumble like this. But he doesn't mind. Not at all. Angeal's always taken so little for himself, insisting upon being being a shield and mountain both for others-- to protect and be relied upon. But he, too, is still but a man. He, too, needs the same love and protection he offers unto others. After all, one cannot pour from an empty cup, and it seems Angeal's was dangerously close to running dry.
So Sephiroth remains crouched there, tenderly running his fingers through Angeal's hair as he cries-- letting him have this moment to crumble, to break, to come apart and knit himself back together as he needs. It-- feels good for Sephiroth, too... to be able to provide this. He's remaining present and steady for Angeal, but he's still shaken that he was inches from losing his dearest friend and he didn't even know. How could he have been so blind to his suffering?
...Eventually, Angeal's breaths even out. He's lifting his head, apologizing, tracing Sephiroth's face so sweetly. Sephiroth starts to shake his head, to tell him that he has nothing to apologize for, but then Angeal continues and--
'I have been in love with you--'
Sephiroth feels like he's been struck by a freight train all over again, but it's markedly less out of horrified shock and more out of... pure awe. Evidently, it's not just Angeal's suffering that he's been blind to. He's perfectly gobsmacked, trying to find some kind of footing-- he's not sure how to proceed from here.
At first, he laughs. It's a warm and incredulous little thing. Because... he's been silently harboring his own affections for quite some time, but he'd always assumed that Genesis and Angeal had feelings for each other. They'd been close for so long, and Sephiroth... well. He couldn't help but feel like the odd man out at times. His own self-imposed suffering, he supposes-- he's slowly beginning to realize what a fool he's been.
And it's right there in his foolishness that he finally finds the right words.]
Angeal... Do you remember that first training exercise we'd had together? [It might sound like he's changing the subject, but just humor him for a moment.] I wasn't used to training with real people back then. Only programs. You were unpredictable in ways that I wasn't accustomed to, and... I sliced my hand upon your blade. I had been content to continue on, as I'd always been made to do, but... you stopped the exercise then and there. [He vividly remembers the way his heart hammered in his chest when Angeal took his hand, gingerly pulling his glove off to inspect the injury.] You took care of me, mended the cut. We talked for quite some time-- never circled back around to the exercise.
[A beat, and Sephiroth smiles softly.]
No one had ever done that for me before, and it's always been you ever since. --How could I not love you in turn?
It speaks volumes to the way he's been suffering in silence all this time that Sephiroth hooking him into a genuine embrace makes him crumble like this. But he doesn't mind. Not at all. Angeal's always taken so little for himself, insisting upon being being a shield and mountain both for others-- to protect and be relied upon. But he, too, is still but a man. He, too, needs the same love and protection he offers unto others. After all, one cannot pour from an empty cup, and it seems Angeal's was dangerously close to running dry.
So Sephiroth remains crouched there, tenderly running his fingers through Angeal's hair as he cries-- letting him have this moment to crumble, to break, to come apart and knit himself back together as he needs. It-- feels good for Sephiroth, too... to be able to provide this. He's remaining present and steady for Angeal, but he's still shaken that he was inches from losing his dearest friend and he didn't even know. How could he have been so blind to his suffering?
...Eventually, Angeal's breaths even out. He's lifting his head, apologizing, tracing Sephiroth's face so sweetly. Sephiroth starts to shake his head, to tell him that he has nothing to apologize for, but then Angeal continues and--
'I have been in love with you--'
Sephiroth feels like he's been struck by a freight train all over again, but it's markedly less out of horrified shock and more out of... pure awe. Evidently, it's not just Angeal's suffering that he's been blind to. He's perfectly gobsmacked, trying to find some kind of footing-- he's not sure how to proceed from here.
At first, he laughs. It's a warm and incredulous little thing. Because... he's been silently harboring his own affections for quite some time, but he'd always assumed that Genesis and Angeal had feelings for each other. They'd been close for so long, and Sephiroth... well. He couldn't help but feel like the odd man out at times. His own self-imposed suffering, he supposes-- he's slowly beginning to realize what a fool he's been.
And it's right there in his foolishness that he finally finds the right words.]
Angeal... Do you remember that first training exercise we'd had together? [It might sound like he's changing the subject, but just humor him for a moment.] I wasn't used to training with real people back then. Only programs. You were unpredictable in ways that I wasn't accustomed to, and... I sliced my hand upon your blade. I had been content to continue on, as I'd always been made to do, but... you stopped the exercise then and there. [He vividly remembers the way his heart hammered in his chest when Angeal took his hand, gingerly pulling his glove off to inspect the injury.] You took care of me, mended the cut. We talked for quite some time-- never circled back around to the exercise.
[A beat, and Sephiroth smiles softly.]
No one had ever done that for me before, and it's always been you ever since. --How could I not love you in turn?
[Angeal's moan is like a siren's song, sinking its melodious teeth in and dragging out more of Sephiroth's ravenous hunger. The hand he'd tangled up in Angeal's collar relinquishes that grip, only to travel down lower-- to find Angeal's hip and dig his fingers in. He uses that as leverage, pinning Angeal soundly between the wall and his body, rolling their hips firmly together. Sephiroth is already hard, hungrily seeking friction between them.
And... well. Angeal is right. Right now, Sephiroth doesn't care. His boundaries and inhibitions have all been practically frayed into nothing. He's been a cruel and wicked thing for so long-- used to taking what he wants without asking.
But that yes still puts its hooks in him, and the wheels turn in his mind.
He doesn't greet Angeal's lips again just yet.
Sephiroth has existed in this place for long enough that he knows dreams and one's will play a significant part in where you end up. He's developed a mastery in navigating it after all. And so... he moves his hand from Angeal's hip, sliding it to his back as if to support him. A strange gesture when they're up against the wall until-- suddenly the wall is no longer there, and Sephiroth is guiding him through a doorway.
Even if Angeal were to elect not to look, he'd know they were somewhere entirely different from the lighting alone. It's warmer, fuller... a jarring difference from the wide open emptiness they'd been occupying moments before. And... a familiar one at that. It's an apartment, cozy and modest. Plants - thriving and green - line every window. Photos with unmistakable faces neatly line the walls and counters. Most curiously of all are the flickering images - blink and miss them - of Sephiroth and Angeal that shimmer about various places. Watering plants together, cooking in the kitchen, reading on the couch--
Memories of a kinder time.
But if Sephiroth regards any of this at all, it's fleeting and disinterested. He's far more intent upon pulling Angeal with him down the hall and into the bedroom.]
And... well. Angeal is right. Right now, Sephiroth doesn't care. His boundaries and inhibitions have all been practically frayed into nothing. He's been a cruel and wicked thing for so long-- used to taking what he wants without asking.
But that yes still puts its hooks in him, and the wheels turn in his mind.
He doesn't greet Angeal's lips again just yet.
Sephiroth has existed in this place for long enough that he knows dreams and one's will play a significant part in where you end up. He's developed a mastery in navigating it after all. And so... he moves his hand from Angeal's hip, sliding it to his back as if to support him. A strange gesture when they're up against the wall until-- suddenly the wall is no longer there, and Sephiroth is guiding him through a doorway.
Even if Angeal were to elect not to look, he'd know they were somewhere entirely different from the lighting alone. It's warmer, fuller... a jarring difference from the wide open emptiness they'd been occupying moments before. And... a familiar one at that. It's an apartment, cozy and modest. Plants - thriving and green - line every window. Photos with unmistakable faces neatly line the walls and counters. Most curiously of all are the flickering images - blink and miss them - of Sephiroth and Angeal that shimmer about various places. Watering plants together, cooking in the kitchen, reading on the couch--
Memories of a kinder time.
But if Sephiroth regards any of this at all, it's fleeting and disinterested. He's far more intent upon pulling Angeal with him down the hall and into the bedroom.]
[ Angeal feels guilty about this weakness, because he is not the only one who has been suffering in silence. He knows, now, some of it, or at least begins to understand. But, when he looks up, Sephiroth's eyes are soft at him, and, while concerned, not unhappy.
It stands to reason, he will probably consider later. Sephiroth has been strong and powerful and heroic, but his accomplishments have ever been tied to war. To hurting others. And Angeal may not have been close to Sephiroth in the ways that the other Sephiroth thought, but he has paid attention. He has seen the exquisite self-control, the kindness beneath the perfect SOLDIER demeanor, the genuine caring for those he has grown to trust, even the ones who frustrated or infuriated him... regularly.
Perhaps... this kind of protection and care is going to be good for him, too. That he can do it. That he has the trust to do it.
But those will be thoughts for later. For now, he has poured out his heart, and Sephiroth laughs, and he can't take in breath, suddenly. Even while he's still held, which is why he doesn't freeze altogether, but it still... hurts, for a moment. Except it is a normal, sweet kind of hurt, not like the frozen loneliness from before, and he welcomes even that--
Until Sephiroth's words follow, and his mouth helplessly quirks at the question. How could he forget? Those were some of the easiest memories for him to hold on to, and, over the last two years, he has cherished them so much. Does he remember? Yes, of course.
As the words follow, he remembers the training in question, and his own surprise, at being able to inflict an wound - of course, it hadn't been him. It had been Sephiroth who cut himself on Angeal's sword - in retrospect, it makes more sense. Of course he had been concerned, anyway--
No one had ever done that for me before...
He can breathe again, now, but his chest aches all the same. The fingers caressing Sephiroth's face turn into a whole palm, cupping his cheek, thumb brushing along the flawless cheekbone. ]
I won't insult you by doubting that you can differentiate love and gratitude - but I would have taken either. So long as I'm welcome by your side.
[ ... and, on the subject of taking care of Sephiroth. ]
Let's... ah. Settle somewhere more comfortable for you?
It stands to reason, he will probably consider later. Sephiroth has been strong and powerful and heroic, but his accomplishments have ever been tied to war. To hurting others. And Angeal may not have been close to Sephiroth in the ways that the other Sephiroth thought, but he has paid attention. He has seen the exquisite self-control, the kindness beneath the perfect SOLDIER demeanor, the genuine caring for those he has grown to trust, even the ones who frustrated or infuriated him... regularly.
Perhaps... this kind of protection and care is going to be good for him, too. That he can do it. That he has the trust to do it.
But those will be thoughts for later. For now, he has poured out his heart, and Sephiroth laughs, and he can't take in breath, suddenly. Even while he's still held, which is why he doesn't freeze altogether, but it still... hurts, for a moment. Except it is a normal, sweet kind of hurt, not like the frozen loneliness from before, and he welcomes even that--
Until Sephiroth's words follow, and his mouth helplessly quirks at the question. How could he forget? Those were some of the easiest memories for him to hold on to, and, over the last two years, he has cherished them so much. Does he remember? Yes, of course.
As the words follow, he remembers the training in question, and his own surprise, at being able to inflict an wound - of course, it hadn't been him. It had been Sephiroth who cut himself on Angeal's sword - in retrospect, it makes more sense. Of course he had been concerned, anyway--
No one had ever done that for me before...
He can breathe again, now, but his chest aches all the same. The fingers caressing Sephiroth's face turn into a whole palm, cupping his cheek, thumb brushing along the flawless cheekbone. ]
I won't insult you by doubting that you can differentiate love and gratitude - but I would have taken either. So long as I'm welcome by your side.
[ ... and, on the subject of taking care of Sephiroth. ]
Let's... ah. Settle somewhere more comfortable for you?
[ Angeal is entirely too focused on Sephiroth, and willing to accept wherever he is taken to look around - but the familiar, hard-missed scent hits him, and he can't help stumbling a little in surprise, steadying himself against the other man.
He never thought he would find himself back here.
Then Sephiroth is moving them, and he follows without resisting, just breathing in and trying to not get overwhelmed, his eyes misting enough that he follows the direction provided without thinking or looking. ]
Eventually... we'll find a place to make our own again.
[ Almost absently, and with a lopsided smile. A promise, in a way, or a hope, perhaps. Difficult to come by, for either of them.
But he is not distracted enough that when Sephiroth stops and claims his mouth again, he doesn't answer in turn. ]
He never thought he would find himself back here.
Then Sephiroth is moving them, and he follows without resisting, just breathing in and trying to not get overwhelmed, his eyes misting enough that he follows the direction provided without thinking or looking. ]
Eventually... we'll find a place to make our own again.
[ Almost absently, and with a lopsided smile. A promise, in a way, or a hope, perhaps. Difficult to come by, for either of them.
But he is not distracted enough that when Sephiroth stops and claims his mouth again, he doesn't answer in turn. ]
[Sephiroth very nearly melts into the way Angeal's palm frames his cheek, running his thumb over its curve. He's always been a bit touch-starved, but it's never been more apparent than it is right now. Slowly, it's starting to sink in that he's allowed to have this-- that Angeal wants to give it freely.]
Hm. [Angeal's remark earns him a little hum of a laugh.] Well... if you're not satisfied by my answer, perhaps I can find another way to reassure you.
[He'll be bypassing that remark to move elsewhere for the moment, because he's sliding his arm from around Angeal's shoulders and taking a fistful from the front of his collar instead. Despite the slightly rough gesture, he's incredibly gentle when he pulls the other man closer towards him. There's only a moment of hesitation, of doubt-- Sephiroth isn't exactly privy to how these sorts of things are supposed to work. Just what little he's seen in movies, read in books. He hadn't even really been particularly interested in trying until he met Angeal.
But he's hoping it's romantic enough - and that he's not marring the moment with his weird socially awkward tendencies - when he decisively tilts his head and closes the rest of the distance between their mouths. It's a sweet little thing, this kiss. Sephiroth is careful not to ask for too much, keeping the motions of his lips simple and tender.
The only thing that betrays Sephiroth's measured gesture is the way his fingers start to tangle in Angeal's hair, a hint silent yearning that comes awfully close to urgency-- almost as if he's afraid to let him stray too far from him again.]
Hm. [Angeal's remark earns him a little hum of a laugh.] Well... if you're not satisfied by my answer, perhaps I can find another way to reassure you.
[He'll be bypassing that remark to move elsewhere for the moment, because he's sliding his arm from around Angeal's shoulders and taking a fistful from the front of his collar instead. Despite the slightly rough gesture, he's incredibly gentle when he pulls the other man closer towards him. There's only a moment of hesitation, of doubt-- Sephiroth isn't exactly privy to how these sorts of things are supposed to work. Just what little he's seen in movies, read in books. He hadn't even really been particularly interested in trying until he met Angeal.
But he's hoping it's romantic enough - and that he's not marring the moment with his weird socially awkward tendencies - when he decisively tilts his head and closes the rest of the distance between their mouths. It's a sweet little thing, this kiss. Sephiroth is careful not to ask for too much, keeping the motions of his lips simple and tender.
The only thing that betrays Sephiroth's measured gesture is the way his fingers start to tangle in Angeal's hair, a hint silent yearning that comes awfully close to urgency-- almost as if he's afraid to let him stray too far from him again.]
Edited 2024-05-12 18:49 (UTC)
[Sephiroth doesn't let Angeal stumble far, grip still firm. He searches the other man's face for a moment, watches those deep blue eyes glisten when the memories come washing over him like a tidal wave. It pulls at his heart, deep underneath all of this churning chaos, but not enough to cool the immense heat of his anger or his desire.
If anything, Angeal's words make it all come roiling to a boil. Sephiroth is certainly not ready to articulate how that makes him feel, and it shows. He's even less ready to let his walls down and accept that kind of vulnerability when he's barely had time to process the years worth of festering hurt and betrayal that never got closure. They're nearly to the bedroom, but that journey is cut short by Sephiroth crowding Angeal into the nearest wall, slamming his back flat against its surface. His fingers tighten further around the other man's chin like teeth clamping down, a flash of heartbreak and fury in those serpentine eyes of his.]
Enough. What good is your word when you've broken every promise you've ever made to me? Keep your flowery promises to yourself, Angeal.
[It's a terribly callous thing to say-- and Sephiroth knows it. It's hateful and scathing, and it's on purpose-- because he doesn't know how to be anything else anymore. Because - in this moment - he wants Angeal to hurt with him... to feel betrayed and lost, just like him. It's selfish and cruel, and he doesn't care. He's been alone all this time, drowning so deeply in it for so long-- what's the rest of eternity?
...Of course, Sephiroth doesn't really want that. He's sick of this damnable loneliness, of Jenova, of life in its entirety. Eventually, he'll regret saying these nasty things to Angeal.
But today is not that day.]
If anything, Angeal's words make it all come roiling to a boil. Sephiroth is certainly not ready to articulate how that makes him feel, and it shows. He's even less ready to let his walls down and accept that kind of vulnerability when he's barely had time to process the years worth of festering hurt and betrayal that never got closure. They're nearly to the bedroom, but that journey is cut short by Sephiroth crowding Angeal into the nearest wall, slamming his back flat against its surface. His fingers tighten further around the other man's chin like teeth clamping down, a flash of heartbreak and fury in those serpentine eyes of his.]
Enough. What good is your word when you've broken every promise you've ever made to me? Keep your flowery promises to yourself, Angeal.
[It's a terribly callous thing to say-- and Sephiroth knows it. It's hateful and scathing, and it's on purpose-- because he doesn't know how to be anything else anymore. Because - in this moment - he wants Angeal to hurt with him... to feel betrayed and lost, just like him. It's selfish and cruel, and he doesn't care. He's been alone all this time, drowning so deeply in it for so long-- what's the rest of eternity?
...Of course, Sephiroth doesn't really want that. He's sick of this damnable loneliness, of Jenova, of life in its entirety. Eventually, he'll regret saying these nasty things to Angeal.
But today is not that day.]
[ Physically, he relishes the slam against the wall. He even relishes the blazing glare at him.
The words, on the other hand, make him slip one step closer to the ever-yawning abyss of self-hate that he has barely crawled out of, and some of the light leaves his eyes. This is his doing. He did betray promises, and he did leave Sephiroth alone, and he deserves this.
But he doesn't look away, or let the hurt show much beyond that. His hands come up to the small of Sephiroth's back, beneath the wing. ]
Got it.
[ He is not here for himself, after all. He is here for Sephiroth, and to begin to atone by alleviating this loneliness. He is just... very, very far from even beginning that atonement, very obviously.
That doesn't shake his resolve.
Nor cool his desire. ]
The words, on the other hand, make him slip one step closer to the ever-yawning abyss of self-hate that he has barely crawled out of, and some of the light leaves his eyes. This is his doing. He did betray promises, and he did leave Sephiroth alone, and he deserves this.
But he doesn't look away, or let the hurt show much beyond that. His hands come up to the small of Sephiroth's back, beneath the wing. ]
Got it.
[ He is not here for himself, after all. He is here for Sephiroth, and to begin to atone by alleviating this loneliness. He is just... very, very far from even beginning that atonement, very obviously.
That doesn't shake his resolve.
Nor cool his desire. ]
Edited 2024-05-13 05:03 (UTC)
[ Hearing, almost feeling that hum makes Angeal's heart quiver, and then. Then, the kiss makes it melt, utterly and completely, and his hold on Sephiroth turns so, so tender, and the palm on his cheek cupping it sweetly. His face heats up a little, eyes so very bright on Sephiroth.
He follows the direction of the grip on his hair, and comes in for a kiss of his own, just as sweet if a little more lingering, then shifts to lean their foreheads together. ]
I am, in fact, very satisfied. Happy, even.
[ Soft breath out, and he leans back a little, not letting go - in fact, his arm giving a little tug. ]
If we're not moving, then at least consider that my legs are probably going to be more comfortable to sit on than crouching.
[ ... as ever, gentle concern and trying to make things better.
Emotional upheaval does not, in fact, make some things change at all. ]
He follows the direction of the grip on his hair, and comes in for a kiss of his own, just as sweet if a little more lingering, then shifts to lean their foreheads together. ]
I am, in fact, very satisfied. Happy, even.
[ Soft breath out, and he leans back a little, not letting go - in fact, his arm giving a little tug. ]
If we're not moving, then at least consider that my legs are probably going to be more comfortable to sit on than crouching.
[ ... as ever, gentle concern and trying to make things better.
Emotional upheaval does not, in fact, make some things change at all. ]
[To be so tenderly beheld this way-- it's such a foreign and intoxicating feeling. Every little touch Angeal offers is laden with affection and sweetness, speaking loudly for his heart. It feels silly to have not known how Angeal felt all this time when he holds him like this, looking at him like he's seen the stars for the first time.
He savors that lingering kiss, the way their foreheads gently bump together afterwards and their breaths mingle. Happy, even, Angeal asserts, and-- knowing that he was able to provide that joy soothes some deeply buried ache in Sephiroth's chest.]
Oh? I had intended to move, but... [After his plan to kiss Angeal, of course. His eyes wander a bit, drinking in the way the other man has leaned back to make space for him. And with that encouraging little tug at his waist? He's a lot less inclined to get up now.
He's generally tried not to let his mind wander overmuch to self-indulgent thoughts about what Angeal feels like to touch, to kiss, to... straddle. But he'd be lying if he said he didn't find himself hooked into them from time to time, especially after a sparring session or a quiet moment of camaraderie together.
And not having to wonder a moment longer? Far be it from him to refuse.
Sephiroth's lips curve into a smile that's far more playful this time. He adjusts, parting his legs as he comes forward to sink snugly into Angeal's lap. His pulse quickens a little at the intimacy of it, a warm little flush oh-so-faintly coloring Sephiroth's immaculate face.]
More comfortable, indeed. How thoughtful of you.
[He pauses, giving Angeal's collar another little tug.]
And you'll tell me if you're uncomfortable, correct? [A soft chuckle. He knows Angeal would probably just as soon let his legs fall off before he inconvenienced him, but--] I'm not particularly keen on dragging you around if your legs fall asleep.
He savors that lingering kiss, the way their foreheads gently bump together afterwards and their breaths mingle. Happy, even, Angeal asserts, and-- knowing that he was able to provide that joy soothes some deeply buried ache in Sephiroth's chest.]
Oh? I had intended to move, but... [After his plan to kiss Angeal, of course. His eyes wander a bit, drinking in the way the other man has leaned back to make space for him. And with that encouraging little tug at his waist? He's a lot less inclined to get up now.
He's generally tried not to let his mind wander overmuch to self-indulgent thoughts about what Angeal feels like to touch, to kiss, to... straddle. But he'd be lying if he said he didn't find himself hooked into them from time to time, especially after a sparring session or a quiet moment of camaraderie together.
And not having to wonder a moment longer? Far be it from him to refuse.
Sephiroth's lips curve into a smile that's far more playful this time. He adjusts, parting his legs as he comes forward to sink snugly into Angeal's lap. His pulse quickens a little at the intimacy of it, a warm little flush oh-so-faintly coloring Sephiroth's immaculate face.]
More comfortable, indeed. How thoughtful of you.
[He pauses, giving Angeal's collar another little tug.]
And you'll tell me if you're uncomfortable, correct? [A soft chuckle. He knows Angeal would probably just as soon let his legs fall off before he inconvenienced him, but--] I'm not particularly keen on dragging you around if your legs fall asleep.
[ Angeal blinks at Sephiroth's response, then can't help a small chuckle of his own, low and deep and honest. The last ... day has been such a roller coaster, from the lowest he's ever been, through feeling even worse, to the highest, happier than he could have believed himself ever to get.
He knows he has deprived the both of them of this, and he regrets it--
A thought that completely leaves his mind as Sephiroth straddles him, and he can hold on to him properly like this, feel his heart beating, uh. Trying not to think ... for the moment, about the exposed skin on his chest pressing against Angeal's clothes, ahem. Oh... actually, that faint blush kind of takes his breath away, too.
He forces air in his lungs (and it smells of Sephiroth, this close), and manages another smile. ]
I'm glad. [ A beat, and the smile turns a little lopsided, half wry and half... shy, somehow. And a whole lot aware how ridiculous it sounds, and maybe it's a joke? ] You wouldn't have to, you know. I can fly us if they do.
He knows he has deprived the both of them of this, and he regrets it--
A thought that completely leaves his mind as Sephiroth straddles him, and he can hold on to him properly like this, feel his heart beating, uh. Trying not to think ... for the moment, about the exposed skin on his chest pressing against Angeal's clothes, ahem. Oh... actually, that faint blush kind of takes his breath away, too.
He forces air in his lungs (and it smells of Sephiroth, this close), and manages another smile. ]
I'm glad. [ A beat, and the smile turns a little lopsided, half wry and half... shy, somehow. And a whole lot aware how ridiculous it sounds, and maybe it's a joke? ] You wouldn't have to, you know. I can fly us if they do.
[Leave it to Angeal to blame himself for their relationship not blossoming into romance sooner when Sephiroth was equally stubborn about not saying anything. (Not everything has to be your fault, sir.)
Sephiroth finally relinquishes his grip on Angeal's collar, letting his arm slide comfortably back around the other man's shoulders. His other hand remains in Angeal's hair, however... The motions of his fingers have eased into something more relaxed, less yearning now-- idly combing sections of those soft raven strands between them.
--Did Angeal struggle to catch his breath just now? There's something to be said about the way having this effect over him feels, Sephiroth thinks. Having the ever stoic and stern Angeal be this over the moon for him makes him feel powerful in a way no elegant lash of Masamune could ever grant him. So... of course, when Angeal manages that sweetly lopsided smile for him, Sephiroth can't help but smile back. Fond. Warm. A little teasing, even.]
You didn't answer my question. [Which he assumes means: no, Angeal will not tell him if he gets uncomfortable. Still, the remark about flying earns a candid laugh.] I suppose, if you think you can carry me.
[Is that a challenge? It's hard to tell. They're pretty close in size, and Angeal's quite strong, but... Sephiroth's never had anyone even remotely try to pick him up before. For good reason, of course. Why risk losing a hand to such a silly endeavor?]
Sephiroth finally relinquishes his grip on Angeal's collar, letting his arm slide comfortably back around the other man's shoulders. His other hand remains in Angeal's hair, however... The motions of his fingers have eased into something more relaxed, less yearning now-- idly combing sections of those soft raven strands between them.
--Did Angeal struggle to catch his breath just now? There's something to be said about the way having this effect over him feels, Sephiroth thinks. Having the ever stoic and stern Angeal be this over the moon for him makes him feel powerful in a way no elegant lash of Masamune could ever grant him. So... of course, when Angeal manages that sweetly lopsided smile for him, Sephiroth can't help but smile back. Fond. Warm. A little teasing, even.]
You didn't answer my question. [Which he assumes means: no, Angeal will not tell him if he gets uncomfortable. Still, the remark about flying earns a candid laugh.] I suppose, if you think you can carry me.
[Is that a challenge? It's hard to tell. They're pretty close in size, and Angeal's quite strong, but... Sephiroth's never had anyone even remotely try to pick him up before. For good reason, of course. Why risk losing a hand to such a silly endeavor?]
Edited 2024-05-13 23:39 (UTC)
[Even after all this time, with so many of his memories muddied and half-there, Sephiroth hasn't forgotten the way Angeal looks when he's been wounded. Even when he maintains nearly perfect composure, there's a switch that goes off in his eyes. Pain turned inwards-- a knife he uses to drive into his own heart. Sephiroth's words have soundly hit their mark, but...
He doesn't know if it satisfies him or if it simply makes him angrier that Angeal accepts his snarling words without so much as a fight. And then he's sliding his hands along the small of his back and--
There's another flare of something. Sephiroth doesn't know anymore, but-- the audacity to still move his hands so sweetly against his back after Sephiroth has viciously aimed to tear at Angeal's heart. Somewhere underneath the flames, his chest aches again. Angeal choosing kindness in the face of Sephiroth choosing to inflict pain-- it feels like a blade cutting soundly into his ribcage, and there's a breath of a moment where Sephiroth starts to falter, to rethink.
His grip on Angeal's jaw loosens suddenly.]
"Got it"? [A scoff...] Is that the best you can do?
He doesn't know if it satisfies him or if it simply makes him angrier that Angeal accepts his snarling words without so much as a fight. And then he's sliding his hands along the small of his back and--
There's another flare of something. Sephiroth doesn't know anymore, but-- the audacity to still move his hands so sweetly against his back after Sephiroth has viciously aimed to tear at Angeal's heart. Somewhere underneath the flames, his chest aches again. Angeal choosing kindness in the face of Sephiroth choosing to inflict pain-- it feels like a blade cutting soundly into his ribcage, and there's a breath of a moment where Sephiroth starts to falter, to rethink.
His grip on Angeal's jaw loosens suddenly.]
"Got it"? [A scoff...] Is that the best you can do?
[ Angeal's own heart aches with the familiar words brought back to him. Not thrown in his face, not quite, but without the lightness of a game as they have been addressed to him before. His own reaction is conditioned, a breath out and lowering of his eyebrows... and not being goaded, because he knows, they both know, that he will never let loose against Sephiroth.
Instead, a corner of his mouth twitches up. ]
I don't think promising you I'll do better will help?
[ His expression softens. ]
And I am sorry that I fucked up like I did. [ Oh, more than anything he can even begin expressing. ] But those are just words. You deserve better.
[ It is as simple as that. In the end, until his deeds match the words, Sephiroth is right. He might as well keep his flowery promises to himself. ]
Instead, a corner of his mouth twitches up. ]
I don't think promising you I'll do better will help?
[ His expression softens. ]
And I am sorry that I fucked up like I did. [ Oh, more than anything he can even begin expressing. ] But those are just words. You deserve better.
[ It is as simple as that. In the end, until his deeds match the words, Sephiroth is right. He might as well keep his flowery promises to himself. ]
[ Yes, and no. While, perhaps, not knowing the full extent of things, Angeal is at least somewhat aware that Sephiroth has not had what one would call a conventional childhood. He hasn't been caught up in a tree when a pair of teenagers were making out and whispering sweet things in the shade beneath starlight, torn between wanting to interrupt and tease them, and trying to not move, curious, fascinated, and embarrassed all at the same time. He hasn't watched his parents share moments of tenderness. He hasn't experienced half the town being in an uproar because of a lovers' quarrel.
There are things in which it is understandable if Sephiroth does not take the first step, and Angeal can and will take responsibility for being an idiot and afraid, and not looking close enough to know that there is a first step to be taken, rather than each of them languishing (heh... possibly not exactly languishing) alone.
Either way, he is melting into the gentle touches, his eyes (tired and still a little wild and) adoring up at Sephiroth. His expression turns sheepish - because Sephiroth isn't wrong, he probably would leave his legs to fall asleep - but there is a bit of a smile to it also. ]
It'd be a shame to break us if we're feeling comfortable. [ ... no, right now, disentangling from Sephiroth does not feel appealing at all. ] I've wanted to be this close to you for a very long time. But ... let's see.
The couch?
[ He isn't letting go or trying to get up.
The last two years, he has learned many things about his own flight, after all.
His normal strength is one thing. His wing, yet another. ]
There are things in which it is understandable if Sephiroth does not take the first step, and Angeal can and will take responsibility for being an idiot and afraid, and not looking close enough to know that there is a first step to be taken, rather than each of them languishing (heh... possibly not exactly languishing) alone.
Either way, he is melting into the gentle touches, his eyes (tired and still a little wild and) adoring up at Sephiroth. His expression turns sheepish - because Sephiroth isn't wrong, he probably would leave his legs to fall asleep - but there is a bit of a smile to it also. ]
It'd be a shame to break us if we're feeling comfortable. [ ... no, right now, disentangling from Sephiroth does not feel appealing at all. ] I've wanted to be this close to you for a very long time. But ... let's see.
The couch?
[ He isn't letting go or trying to get up.
The last two years, he has learned many things about his own flight, after all.
His normal strength is one thing. His wing, yet another. ]
[Maybe that's part of what's so infuriating about all of this. Sephiroth is hellbent on instigating a fight, or at least drawing some form of aggression out of Angeal, and Angeal continues to meet him with patience. More patience than he rightfully deserves.
And that's the sticking point for Sephiroth, really. What he deserves. Because it certainly isn't soft hands and kind words, and Angeal insinuating that he does just makes him bristle all over again.]
And what would you know of what I deserve? Where were you while my hands wrought unthinkable destruction? I came within a breath of destroying this Planet in its entirety, Angeal, and even then, you were absent.
It goes far deeper than simply doing better.
My hands are irrevocably stained with the blood of thousands. Blood that I gladly bathed in-- all while you wallowed in self-loathing. The man you once loved is dead, Angeal. All that stands before you now is but a harbinger of death, and if you came here seeking anything different, then you are a damned fool.
Do not dare speak to me about what I deserve.
[There's nothing gentle at all about the way Sephiroth relinquishes Angeal, with one last shove against the wall before he turns and starts storming back down the hallway.]
And that's the sticking point for Sephiroth, really. What he deserves. Because it certainly isn't soft hands and kind words, and Angeal insinuating that he does just makes him bristle all over again.]
And what would you know of what I deserve? Where were you while my hands wrought unthinkable destruction? I came within a breath of destroying this Planet in its entirety, Angeal, and even then, you were absent.
It goes far deeper than simply doing better.
My hands are irrevocably stained with the blood of thousands. Blood that I gladly bathed in-- all while you wallowed in self-loathing. The man you once loved is dead, Angeal. All that stands before you now is but a harbinger of death, and if you came here seeking anything different, then you are a damned fool.
Do not dare speak to me about what I deserve.
[There's nothing gentle at all about the way Sephiroth relinquishes Angeal, with one last shove against the wall before he turns and starts storming back down the hallway.]
[ Angeal doesn't flinch at the words, and he doesn't flinch when he's pushed away, but he doesn't hesitate to push off from it and follow. ]
Do you think I could find you without seeing what has happened? I know, Sephiroth. I know what my wallowing and confusion did to you. That is why I am not seeking who you used to be. I'm not who I used to be, either, and my failures which led to your suffering, and then aided your rage, are mine to bear, to remember, and to do better.
And I've sought death before. It didn't exactly give me anything worth having - I told you. I'm here to take from you. And certainly not fake relief.
What's done is done. Neither of us can undo it, and I wish I could. But what I deprived you of, then, I'm here to give now - and you won't be rid of me. You may not be who I knew. But you are still yourself.
And if there is one person I can dedicate myself to, it's you. Even after all that you did and almost did.
Do you think I could find you without seeing what has happened? I know, Sephiroth. I know what my wallowing and confusion did to you. That is why I am not seeking who you used to be. I'm not who I used to be, either, and my failures which led to your suffering, and then aided your rage, are mine to bear, to remember, and to do better.
And I've sought death before. It didn't exactly give me anything worth having - I told you. I'm here to take from you. And certainly not fake relief.
What's done is done. Neither of us can undo it, and I wish I could. But what I deprived you of, then, I'm here to give now - and you won't be rid of me. You may not be who I knew. But you are still yourself.
And if there is one person I can dedicate myself to, it's you. Even after all that you did and almost did.
[Angeal is following him, determined to say his piece. Sephiroth nearly makes it to the portal before Angeal's words finally slow him down, beckoning him to turn sharply on his heel. His eyes are sharp, his body still bristling with anger. But... then slowly, Sephiroth tilts his chin up, his expression gradually easing into well-practiced indifference.]
And if I don't want it? If I don't want you?
[He wouldn't be fooling anyone. Not after the way he pinned Angeal to the wall, chasing after his mouth like a starved animal but moments ago. Certainly not when he'd brought him here of all places and with the intent of ravaging him senseless no less.
Maybe, in some misguided way, he thinks he's protecting Angeal from him by behaving this way. Because, no matter how much he may still yearn and ache for this man, Sephiroth knows his hands only bring pain and destruction. And Angeal is too complacent to take it, to keep giving without regard for his own well-being, thinking it's deserved. Sephiroth has already slipped too far-- snarling ugly things in his profound anger and reaching for Angeal in violence rather than gentleness. He'd just defied Fate itself to save a past version of him, only to defile the one who once belonged to him with bitterness and fury.
It's not right. He's not so far gone that he can't see that in this moment of clarity. All he'll do is mar an already broken man further, and it leaves a snarled knot in his stomach. He's not capable of healing either one of them.]
And if I don't want it? If I don't want you?
[He wouldn't be fooling anyone. Not after the way he pinned Angeal to the wall, chasing after his mouth like a starved animal but moments ago. Certainly not when he'd brought him here of all places and with the intent of ravaging him senseless no less.
Maybe, in some misguided way, he thinks he's protecting Angeal from him by behaving this way. Because, no matter how much he may still yearn and ache for this man, Sephiroth knows his hands only bring pain and destruction. And Angeal is too complacent to take it, to keep giving without regard for his own well-being, thinking it's deserved. Sephiroth has already slipped too far-- snarling ugly things in his profound anger and reaching for Angeal in violence rather than gentleness. He'd just defied Fate itself to save a past version of him, only to defile the one who once belonged to him with bitterness and fury.
It's not right. He's not so far gone that he can't see that in this moment of clarity. All he'll do is mar an already broken man further, and it leaves a snarled knot in his stomach. He's not capable of healing either one of them.]
Edited 2024-05-14 13:44 (UTC)
[ Angeal pauses at the question, blinking. And, yes, looking for Sephiroth, he was afraid that might be the case.
But that question was answered, and he finds himself... Unhurt by it. Instead, his mouth quirks up at one side. Because, come on. ]
Still stuck with me.
[ The hint of a smirk solidifies, just a little, and he steps in front of Sephiroth once again, and, once again, reaches for him. Instead of wrapping a hand around his waist, he tangles fingers in a strand of silver hair. He knows. He knows that every part of him has been soaked in blood. And that doesn't scare him. ]
I'm not as fragile as I was, Seph. You waded through rage and destruction, some of it not even your own, but in very many ways, not unfounded. I sank through a pit of despair and guilt and pain.
But we're standing here, neither of us free of them, but neither are we drowning in them, anymore.
I can take your fury, and stand beside you beyond it, not because I'm invincible, impervious to it. But because hurting you back won't take away my hurt, only add to yours.
[ He lets go of the strand of hair and pokes a finger into Sephiroth's chest. ]
Don't think I won't push back, though. Just... when it's not about lashing back. You know as well as anyone that I'll put my foot down when something's gone too far.
But that question was answered, and he finds himself... Unhurt by it. Instead, his mouth quirks up at one side. Because, come on. ]
Still stuck with me.
[ The hint of a smirk solidifies, just a little, and he steps in front of Sephiroth once again, and, once again, reaches for him. Instead of wrapping a hand around his waist, he tangles fingers in a strand of silver hair. He knows. He knows that every part of him has been soaked in blood. And that doesn't scare him. ]
I'm not as fragile as I was, Seph. You waded through rage and destruction, some of it not even your own, but in very many ways, not unfounded. I sank through a pit of despair and guilt and pain.
But we're standing here, neither of us free of them, but neither are we drowning in them, anymore.
I can take your fury, and stand beside you beyond it, not because I'm invincible, impervious to it. But because hurting you back won't take away my hurt, only add to yours.
[ He lets go of the strand of hair and pokes a finger into Sephiroth's chest. ]
Don't think I won't push back, though. Just... when it's not about lashing back. You know as well as anyone that I'll put my foot down when something's gone too far.
[Sephiroth regards Angeal curiously as he proposes moving to the couch and asserts his disinclination to untangle themselves in the same breath.]
...The couch would be acceptable.
[Is Angeal actually going to fly them over? Sephiroth looks at him incredulously, an amused quirk curving his mouth, but he's willing to let him give it a shot. It's-- charming that Angeal is so unwilling to let him go for even a moment so that they might move elsewhere.]
It would be greatly appreciated if you could refrain from knocking things off my desk.
[It's said in a lighthearted tone, not meant to chide Angeal in any sincere manner. But... a little extra caution couldn't hurt. Not only is Angeal's wing considerably large, but it's probably powerful enough to create a gust that would easily obliterate the paperwork Sephiroth currently has stacked into neat, organized piles. No amount of adoration he has for this man would save him from the depths of Sephiroth's frustration if he's forced to sort through that mess.]
...The couch would be acceptable.
[Is Angeal actually going to fly them over? Sephiroth looks at him incredulously, an amused quirk curving his mouth, but he's willing to let him give it a shot. It's-- charming that Angeal is so unwilling to let him go for even a moment so that they might move elsewhere.]
It would be greatly appreciated if you could refrain from knocking things off my desk.
[It's said in a lighthearted tone, not meant to chide Angeal in any sincere manner. But... a little extra caution couldn't hurt. Not only is Angeal's wing considerably large, but it's probably powerful enough to create a gust that would easily obliterate the paperwork Sephiroth currently has stacked into neat, organized piles. No amount of adoration he has for this man would save him from the depths of Sephiroth's frustration if he's forced to sort through that mess.]
[ ... look. For the last two years or so, he has had the chance to even see Sephiroth all of once. And then he got to see what he suspects Sephiroth, here and now, will never want to become. And now he can hold him and be held, and, yes, he'll cling a little.
At the instruction, his eyebrows fly up, but he can't help his lips twitching, anyway. Sephiroth might be unaware the amount of indulgence (inasmuch as it is indulgence, as paperwork is important) Angeal is willing to grant him-- actually, Angeal might have been unaware until now, too. They have yet to discover where Angeal will be drawing a line, but he suspects it might ... take a lot of effort to discover the limits. He still glances at the desk, to see the situation there, and hums. This will certainly be a challenge....
... and he finds himself very curious if he can, ah, rise up to it. He obviously can't use the full length of the wing, for this, so it'll be a matter of working harder with a smaller wingspan, but he glances around to gauge the angles in which the gust will reflect the least. ]
As you wish.
[ Arms tighten a little around Sephiroth, pressing them flush against each other, and the wing moves, beating softly until they are airborne, if only jsut hovering, to avoid both the harder gust and the less control he'd have over it if he goes higher, but he can manage that.
And off they go towards the couch, only a single, solitary sheet of paper floating to the ground among the white feathers.
Close enough? ]
At the instruction, his eyebrows fly up, but he can't help his lips twitching, anyway. Sephiroth might be unaware the amount of indulgence (inasmuch as it is indulgence, as paperwork is important) Angeal is willing to grant him-- actually, Angeal might have been unaware until now, too. They have yet to discover where Angeal will be drawing a line, but he suspects it might ... take a lot of effort to discover the limits. He still glances at the desk, to see the situation there, and hums. This will certainly be a challenge....
... and he finds himself very curious if he can, ah, rise up to it. He obviously can't use the full length of the wing, for this, so it'll be a matter of working harder with a smaller wingspan, but he glances around to gauge the angles in which the gust will reflect the least. ]
As you wish.
[ Arms tighten a little around Sephiroth, pressing them flush against each other, and the wing moves, beating softly until they are airborne, if only jsut hovering, to avoid both the harder gust and the less control he'd have over it if he goes higher, but he can manage that.
And off they go towards the couch, only a single, solitary sheet of paper floating to the ground among the white feathers.
Close enough? ]
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