[As Angeal continues on, Sephiroth's confusion only grows. It seems as if something profound happened during that mission, but he's struggling to grasp where all of this is coming from. He doesn't have any better idea of where Angeal ought to start than the man himself does, but he does his best to consider it.
The fact that Angeal is already remarking that he has unfavorable news, and that it may or may not be unfavorable enough to incite a promise that he won't leave-- well. Sephiroth isn't exactly reassured.]
I'm afraid I don't understand, but... [He pauses, and at the heart of all of this, he's really just worried about Angeal. Everything else is secondary.] Let's start with you, I suppose.
[ Assuming that Angeal himself understands it all, or knows what is best... or, at least, what isn't worst, may be slightly overestimating him. He has had a little time to think things through on the way here, and all he's come up with is that, well.
Neither Genesis nor himself reacted well to finding out what they are. Sephiroth probably won't, either. And how bad that will be... Angeal doesn't know. The future Sephiroth seems to have faith that Angeal will make a difference to it, to him, but without the bond that Sephiroth had with his Angeal...
Still. Hiding the truth, and letting him learn from vehemence and lashing out... that will be worse. ]
As you may have... guessed, [ he lets his wing beat lightly against the wall, ] Genesis and I are not ... quite human. My mother had ... cells implanted in her from something that the scientists did not, and I am certain still do not, understand. From her genetic material, Genesis was created. I was born the more conventional way, but the changes are still... in me.
When my mother realized what her long-past deeds have brought, she took her own life. [ His gaze strays to the Buster Sword, leaned against the wall as he had left it that day, then drops to the floor. ] But what I am means that I am somewhat more... durable. Monstrous, hopeless, but durable.
I couldn't remove the blight that I am from the star on my own. So I was going to force Zack to do it... [ He doesn't dare meet Sephiroth's eyes. But he can't not at least try to gauge his reactions. ] I was interrupted, and made to reconsider.
[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.
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'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.
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 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?
[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.]
[ 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. ]
[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.
[ 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.
[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?]
[ 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. ]
[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.]
[ ... 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.
[It's very much involuntary, the little sound that ends up jarring itself out of Sephiroth's throat when Angeal pulls him even tighter, keenly aware of how closely their hips are pushed together and the way his legs end up having to wrap around the other man when they lift off the ground. Oh dear... what a compromising position he's just found himself in.
His face - his whole body, really - heats up, but he manages to keep his well-practiced composure and not let his mind wander... too much. It skips for the briefest moment to how Angeal might feel settled in between his legs like this in... ahem, other and certainly more provocative situations-- only for him to immediately and almost frantically rip that train of train away to something far less inappropriate, dear god. Whoops.
Please don't comment on how turned on he is. Please.
In fact, he's going to pretend - with great determination - like nothing happened, and focus instead on... that scrap of paper that just wafted to the ground. It's almost convincing, too-- how unbothered he tries to pretend he is. If Angeal didn't know him well enough to be able to pick that sort of thing apart, that is. But he's banking on Angeal being merciful, as he often is.]
Impressive. I'll take that as a victory. Have you been practicing?
[Internal panic and a desperate attempt to distract them aside, he does mean it. He's quite taken with that wing of Angeal's, honestly.]
[ Oh... Oh, Goddess but that reaction is adorable, and Angeal would enjoy it more - and show his appreciation - if he weren't actually focusing on not making a mess of Sephiroth's things. It still makes his eyes soft and his hold - well. Not changed.
But the words make the smile slip away, most of the way, and he remains quiet until he settles them down on the couch, loosening his hold but far from letting go, unless Sephiroth tries to climb down off his lap. ]
Not controlled in a small space like this, no. But I've done a lot of flying, over the last two years, including fighting while flying. [ Thanks, old friend. ] I've learned things out of necessity.
[Sephiroth considers removing himself briefly, if only out of feeling a bit mortified, but... Angeal is still holding him and has kindly followed his lead, so... he's assuming he wants him to stay. Not that Sephiroth doesn't, mind you, but. He does end up adjusting, removing his tangled fingers from Angeal's hair and scooting back a little, so that he feels slightly less awkward and obvious about, uh... being hard on Angeal's lap. Ahem.
And anyway, he's a little more concerned with the change in Angeal's demeanor. He thinks back over what he said in conjunction with Angeal's reply, and then onto what caused this entire meeting in the first place, and...]
Ah-- forgive me... It must be a difficult subject for you.
[His mind drifts a bit-- to what Angeal must have been doing all this time. How lonely and confused he must have felt. Admittedly, Sephiroth felt that way too after Angeal and Genesis left, but... it's not quite the same. Angeal's been dealing with something unfathomably difficult, and that's only more starkly apparent now that he knows how close he was to losing him for good. Sephiroth's brows furrow a bit, and he ends up resting his free hand against Angeal's bicep, giving a soft squeeze.]
I won't force you to speak of the things you've endured more than you're willing, but... please know that you don't have to carry the weight of the world alone. It's not a burden to walk this path with you.
[ Angeal blinks. Grateful, both for the touch and the words.
Then one hand shifts up again, to gently brush hair away from Sephiroth's face, and caress his cheek again. ]
There will be things to come to terms to, but that is not - I mostly... Don't want to make light of leaving you, for all that time. I am so, so sorry, Sephiroth.
And thank you, for this. It'll take time before my words will mean anything, but...
You don't have to carry it all, either. Walking this path, today and into tomorrow, with you, is how I - never dared to dream, before. But I do want.
[Sephiroth hums, finding himself leaning into the plane of Angeal's open palm. His eyes drift shut for a moment, simply savoring this blessing. He seldom allowed himself to even humor something like this until now-- that he could be beheld and loved in such a way.
He's trying not to dwell too much on the almosts and what-ifs, but he still feels a profound ache in his chest that things got so nearly irreparably bad.]
You're here now. [A breath; finally, he opens his eyes.] But... you were the one in danger of being lost to me - to all of us - forever, and I... would have been lost without you.
[If only he really knew how true that was.]
I only wish that I had seen it sooner. I wish... that I had seen many things sooner.
[But he manages a smile, bittersweet though it is. His hand falls away from Angeal's arm, wandering instead - curiously - to the center of his chest. He lays his palm flat against the other man's sternum, letting his fingers slowly spread out. It's strange: he's never done this before, has never dared to do this before, and yet... Somehow it feels so familiar, like he's done it a thousand times.
He maps out Angeal's heartbeat with his fingertips, almost entranced. If it weren't for the subject matter, he might be willing to get lost in it entirely.]
--Promise me that we'll not hide the truth from each other again. No matter how painful. No matter how frightening.
[ Angeal's heartbeat beneath Sephiroth's hand is firm and strong, if a little erratic (he is not exactly not turned on, even if the conversation is certainly... putting a damp on that). And he almost smiles, too, the touch and Sephiroth's eyes on him a balm over hurts that he never allowed himself to consider he deserved healing from.
So, so many things. ]
I went away. You don't have to take that one up on you - you couldn't know there's a need for your hand to reach out. It's on me, and I won't make that mistake again.
[ Then Sephiroth's request makes his breath catch, and his eyes widen. He breathes out, then in. ]
I ... I do promise. But you, as well.
[ The Sephiroth who came to him earlier...
How long had he endured, alone and in silence, before changing reality? This is how long Sephiroth can hold in his pain - and Angeal does not want him to. Truth may be difficult, and emotions even more so, but...
[It's true that Angeal is the one who left, and Sephiroth did try to look for him. But... maybe he could have looked harder or given him a reason not to feel like he had to weather that burden alone. He can't help but feel responsible somehow.
But... he's also a smart enough man to know that this just isn't an argument he's going to win against Angeal, so he concedes in silence.
Instead, he focuses on those steadying breaths Angeal takes-- the way his chest feels as it rises and falls under his palm. Sephiroth smiles again-- but this time it leaves out the bitter and offers only the sweet. Leave it to Angeal to hold him to the same standard.]
I promise. A partnership is founded on equality.
[A beat.]
Assuming... we are partners?
[And... leave it to Sephiroth, currently sitting on Angeal's lap after a heartfelt confession and a shared kissed but moments ago, to still find room to be Unsure if he's allowed to call Angeal his boyfriend.]
... then his heart actually skips a beat beneath Sephiroth's hand before it speeds up, and huh, that hurts a little, but that question! ]
Partners. I... think I like that word. [ His expression full of wonder. ] And I think many others will still fit. Yes, Sephiroth. We are.
[ He does know him enough to know that this is a time for reassurance first.
Then... quieter. ]
Does it not... bother you? To consider yourself equal with a [ monster ]... an experiment?
[ And someone still beneath Sephiroth's abilities, but Angeal can concede that if that hasn't disturbed Sephiroth before, it is hardly going to start now. And that the skill gap isn't quite as impossible to breach as the one between himself and the Sephiroth from the future. ]
[Oh, how Sephiroth's eyes and smile warm at the way Angeal's heartbeat drums under his hand-- at the way Angeal looks at him in that moment. It makes his entire ribcage come alive with warmth and electricity.
Slowly, he begins to trace soothing circles across Angeal's chest.
It-- makes him profoundly happy to hear those words - 'Yes, Sephiroth. We are.' - and know that... for perhaps the first time, he's allowed to possess the kind of closeness he's always craved. He's watched others around him develop meaningful relationships for a long time, and he's always felt so isolated on his little island. If only he could go back and tell his younger self - confused and afraid of his own developing crush on Angeal - that things would turn out alright.
...But that joy falters when Angeal speaks again, giving voice to his insecurities.]
Angeal...
[His hand pauses against the other man's chest, fingertips pressing firmly-- almost grasping at the corded fabric of his shirt.]
What they did to you does not define who you are. It does you a great disservice to be defined so callously as an "experiment". You are a man, above all else. A good man. One worthy of being cherished.
...What bothers me is that you would think yourself beneath me at all.
[Sephiroth has grown to understand that Genesis always harbored some sizeable resentment on that front. But Angeal? He thought they'd come to an understanding. He knows finding out difficult truths about himself has undoubtedly affected his confidence and self-worth, but... It doesn't make it any easier to hear such a thing come out of Angeal's mouth. As it were, there's only one way Sephiroth will ever think about you being beneath him, Angeal, and it has nothing to so with equality.]
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The fact that Angeal is already remarking that he has unfavorable news, and that it may or may not be unfavorable enough to incite a promise that he won't leave-- well. Sephiroth isn't exactly reassured.]
I'm afraid I don't understand, but... [He pauses, and at the heart of all of this, he's really just worried about Angeal. Everything else is secondary.] Let's start with you, I suppose.
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Neither Genesis nor himself reacted well to finding out what they are. Sephiroth probably won't, either. And how bad that will be... Angeal doesn't know. The future Sephiroth seems to have faith that Angeal will make a difference to it, to him, but without the bond that Sephiroth had with his Angeal...
Still. Hiding the truth, and letting him learn from vehemence and lashing out... that will be worse. ]
As you may have... guessed, [ he lets his wing beat lightly against the wall, ] Genesis and I are not ... quite human. My mother had ... cells implanted in her from something that the scientists did not, and I am certain still do not, understand. From her genetic material, Genesis was created. I was born the more conventional way, but the changes are still... in me.
When my mother realized what her long-past deeds have brought, she took her own life. [ His gaze strays to the Buster Sword, leaned against the wall as he had left it that day, then drops to the floor. ] But what I am means that I am somewhat more... durable. Monstrous, hopeless, but durable.
I couldn't remove the blight that I am from the star on my own. So I was going to force Zack to do it... [ He doesn't dare meet Sephiroth's eyes. But he can't not at least try to gauge his reactions. ] I was interrupted, and made to reconsider.
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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.
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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. ]
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[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?]
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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.
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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?
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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?
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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.]
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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. ]
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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.
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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.
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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?]
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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. ]
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...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.]
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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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His face - his whole body, really - heats up, but he manages to keep his well-practiced composure and not let his mind wander... too much. It skips for the briefest moment to how Angeal might feel settled in between his legs like this in... ahem, other and certainly more provocative situations-- only for him to immediately and almost frantically rip that train of train away to something far less inappropriate, dear god. Whoops.
Please don't comment on how turned on he is. Please.
In fact, he's going to pretend - with great determination - like nothing happened, and focus instead on... that scrap of paper that just wafted to the ground. It's almost convincing, too-- how unbothered he tries to pretend he is. If Angeal didn't know him well enough to be able to pick that sort of thing apart, that is. But he's banking on Angeal being merciful, as he often is.]
Impressive. I'll take that as a victory. Have you been practicing?
[Internal panic and a desperate attempt to distract them aside, he does mean it. He's quite taken with that wing of Angeal's, honestly.]
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But the words make the smile slip away, most of the way, and he remains quiet until he settles them down on the couch, loosening his hold but far from letting go, unless Sephiroth tries to climb down off his lap. ]
Not controlled in a small space like this, no. But I've done a lot of flying, over the last two years, including fighting while flying. [ Thanks, old friend. ] I've learned things out of necessity.
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And anyway, he's a little more concerned with the change in Angeal's demeanor. He thinks back over what he said in conjunction with Angeal's reply, and then onto what caused this entire meeting in the first place, and...]
Ah-- forgive me... It must be a difficult subject for you.
[His mind drifts a bit-- to what Angeal must have been doing all this time. How lonely and confused he must have felt. Admittedly, Sephiroth felt that way too after Angeal and Genesis left, but... it's not quite the same. Angeal's been dealing with something unfathomably difficult, and that's only more starkly apparent now that he knows how close he was to losing him for good. Sephiroth's brows furrow a bit, and he ends up resting his free hand against Angeal's bicep, giving a soft squeeze.]
I won't force you to speak of the things you've endured more than you're willing, but... please know that you don't have to carry the weight of the world alone. It's not a burden to walk this path with you.
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Then one hand shifts up again, to gently brush hair away from Sephiroth's face, and caress his cheek again. ]
There will be things to come to terms to, but that is not - I mostly... Don't want to make light of leaving you, for all that time. I am so, so sorry, Sephiroth.
And thank you, for this. It'll take time before my words will mean anything, but...
You don't have to carry it all, either. Walking this path, today and into tomorrow, with you, is how I - never dared to dream, before. But I do want.
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He's trying not to dwell too much on the almosts and what-ifs, but he still feels a profound ache in his chest that things got so nearly irreparably bad.]
You're here now. [A breath; finally, he opens his eyes.] But... you were the one in danger of being lost to me - to all of us - forever, and I... would have been lost without you.
[If only he really knew how true that was.]
I only wish that I had seen it sooner. I wish... that I had seen many things sooner.
[But he manages a smile, bittersweet though it is. His hand falls away from Angeal's arm, wandering instead - curiously - to the center of his chest. He lays his palm flat against the other man's sternum, letting his fingers slowly spread out. It's strange: he's never done this before, has never dared to do this before, and yet... Somehow it feels so familiar, like he's done it a thousand times.
He maps out Angeal's heartbeat with his fingertips, almost entranced. If it weren't for the subject matter, he might be willing to get lost in it entirely.]
--Promise me that we'll not hide the truth from each other again. No matter how painful. No matter how frightening.
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So, so many things. ]
I went away. You don't have to take that one up on you - you couldn't know there's a need for your hand to reach out. It's on me, and I won't make that mistake again.
[ Then Sephiroth's request makes his breath catch, and his eyes widen. He breathes out, then in. ]
I ... I do promise. But you, as well.
[ The Sephiroth who came to him earlier...
How long had he endured, alone and in silence, before changing reality? This is how long Sephiroth can hold in his pain - and Angeal does not want him to. Truth may be difficult, and emotions even more so, but...
They are important. ]
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But... he's also a smart enough man to know that this just isn't an argument he's going to win against Angeal, so he concedes in silence.
Instead, he focuses on those steadying breaths Angeal takes-- the way his chest feels as it rises and falls under his palm. Sephiroth smiles again-- but this time it leaves out the bitter and offers only the sweet. Leave it to Angeal to hold him to the same standard.]
I promise. A partnership is founded on equality.
[A beat.]
Assuming... we are partners?
[And... leave it to Sephiroth, currently sitting on Angeal's lap after a heartfelt confession and a shared kissed but moments ago, to still find room to be Unsure if he's allowed to call Angeal his boyfriend.]
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... then his heart actually skips a beat beneath Sephiroth's hand before it speeds up, and huh, that hurts a little, but that question! ]
Partners. I... think I like that word. [ His expression full of wonder. ] And I think many others will still fit. Yes, Sephiroth. We are.
[ He does know him enough to know that this is a time for reassurance first.
Then... quieter. ]
Does it not... bother you? To consider yourself equal with a [ monster ]... an experiment?
[ And someone still beneath Sephiroth's abilities, but Angeal can concede that if that hasn't disturbed Sephiroth before, it is hardly going to start now. And that the skill gap isn't quite as impossible to breach as the one between himself and the Sephiroth from the future. ]
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Slowly, he begins to trace soothing circles across Angeal's chest.
It-- makes him profoundly happy to hear those words - 'Yes, Sephiroth. We are.' - and know that... for perhaps the first time, he's allowed to possess the kind of closeness he's always craved. He's watched others around him develop meaningful relationships for a long time, and he's always felt so isolated on his little island. If only he could go back and tell his younger self - confused and afraid of his own developing crush on Angeal - that things would turn out alright.
...But that joy falters when Angeal speaks again, giving voice to his insecurities.]
Angeal...
[His hand pauses against the other man's chest, fingertips pressing firmly-- almost grasping at the corded fabric of his shirt.]
What they did to you does not define who you are. It does you a great disservice to be defined so callously as an "experiment". You are a man, above all else. A good man. One worthy of being cherished.
...What bothers me is that you would think yourself beneath me at all.
[Sephiroth has grown to understand that Genesis always harbored some sizeable resentment on that front. But Angeal? He thought they'd come to an understanding. He knows finding out difficult truths about himself has undoubtedly affected his confidence and self-worth, but... It doesn't make it any easier to hear such a thing come out of Angeal's mouth. As it were, there's only one way Sephiroth will ever think about you being beneath him, Angeal, and it has nothing to so with equality.]
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