[ Tseng does not think that he could deny Sephiroth anything when he looks at him this way. What a terrifying prospect it is, that anyone should hold so much power over him that was not earned by rank or in blood, but by a single flash of eyes gone so bright with something intriguing that Tseng cannot help but to be entranced by them. And now he is in the most perilous position of all, because he knows how Sephiroth's lashes drift when Tseng touches his face, how peaceable and sweet and breath-taking he can look against the open plane of his palm, and that image will haunt him with longing for as long as he lives. The curse has spread and now Tseng's got it too—not just in spades, but in all the suits to boot. ]
Yes.
[ Tseng agrees, and that revelation is where it is supposed to end. He is a scoundrel with a cold heart, a ruthless predator, the nefarious—but necessary—shadow cast by Sephiroth in all of his resplendence and glory. That Sephiroth found him in such an unseemly arena in the first place ought to be his first tip that Tseng can do nothing for him but pollute his waters, but now Sephiroth is drifting closer, and there is that look that he would happily debase and destroy himself for, so he supposes that they are both feeling ruinous tonight.
He says "show me," and it is as if he's sunk strings into Tseng's skin, because Tseng is moving before he knows it, his other hand raising to clear away a drift of silver hair. Every kiss he's ever known has been a quick and dirty set-up for an equally disposable punchline, but kissing Sephiroth is more like a song, a soft introduction that culminates into a ravenous chorus. The issue is that Sephiroth's lips fit the act so perfectly, so plump and pleasant to hold within his suckling mouth, that there is little choice he has but to kiss him breathless right there upon his shitty thrift store couch. ]
no subject
Yes.
[ Tseng agrees, and that revelation is where it is supposed to end. He is a scoundrel with a cold heart, a ruthless predator, the nefarious—but necessary—shadow cast by Sephiroth in all of his resplendence and glory. That Sephiroth found him in such an unseemly arena in the first place ought to be his first tip that Tseng can do nothing for him but pollute his waters, but now Sephiroth is drifting closer, and there is that look that he would happily debase and destroy himself for, so he supposes that they are both feeling ruinous tonight.
He says "show me," and it is as if he's sunk strings into Tseng's skin, because Tseng is moving before he knows it, his other hand raising to clear away a drift of silver hair. Every kiss he's ever known has been a quick and dirty set-up for an equally disposable punchline, but kissing Sephiroth is more like a song, a soft introduction that culminates into a ravenous chorus. The issue is that Sephiroth's lips fit the act so perfectly, so plump and pleasant to hold within his suckling mouth, that there is little choice he has but to kiss him breathless right there upon his shitty thrift store couch. ]