... 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.]
[ Oh... to be able to bring such joy to Sephiroth? He did not expect... no, he actually hadn't hought this far. But it is so, so incredibly good that it loosens something around his heart that the other topic they are discussing has tightened painfully.
He swallows, then breathes out deeply. ]
One day, probably soon, I will shown you why I spent some of the time after I learned just wishing that I were... human. It has been many, many long days, turning into months, and more. It will take me a while, before I stop thinking of myself as ... lesser. Wrong.
But I will, Sephiroth. Because you see me as a man and that is enough for me to try. And I do apologize for bringing the mood down but this is - the first step of keeping my promise. I won't hide.
[ A beat, then a small, wry smile. ]
It may take some good, good deeds before I will consider myself a good man, but I'm here to work on that.
[Sephiroth - too - finds himself taking a deep breath, easing it out slowly through his nose. He can't claim to understand what Angeal is going through, nor can he claim to know what makes someone human, but... he does know that he loves this man with every breath in his body. He hopes that'll be enough.
And Angeal is right-- this is part of keeping their promise. Sephiroth would rather he speak of the pain in his heart than continue to bury it. Accordingly, he shakes his head some at Angeal's apology.]
No... Don't apologize. I want you to feel free to tell me what lies in your heart. Even when it's pain. [A breath-- he thinks again of Angeal's attempt to end his own life today, and his entire chest contracts.] Especially then.
[He doesn't want to end up in that place again-- with Angeal feeling isolated and burdensome, and Sephiroth wondering what he could have done differently.
It may take some good, good deeds before I will consider myself a good man, Angeal says, and Sephiroth laughs softly.] You've always been impossibly hard on yourself. [And Sephiroth finds himself wanting to comfort him-- to soothe that doubt, that pain etched into every part of him. He spreads his fingers out across Angeal's chest again, using it as a bit of gentle leverage to push the other man back against the couch. He adjusts, sitting up on his knees a little more, sliding a bit closer-- he dips his face down until his lips are but a breath away from Angeal's.]
...So, I suppose I'll just have to carry that truth for you instead... until you're ready.
[And then he takes Angeal's mouth against his, punctuating his words with a slow, gentle kiss.]
[ One day, sooner rather than later, Sephiroth will know how literally Angeal is alive because of him and for him. And how relevant all of this will be for Sephiroth himself.
But, tonight, there has been enough of the hard truths, and even this heartache is fading, with the reassurance and the laugh and the--
--oh!
Angeal's eyes widen slightly as he is pressed back, as words upon words wash over him, not like a tempest but soft, soothing rain. Tension leeches out from his shoulders as the slow kiss makes him melt, one hand settling on the small of Sephiroth's back... and the other one cupping the back of his head, not trying to seek more than is given, not right now, but holding on, so very tenderly.
When he can finally breathe again, heart in his eyes, he quirks a small smile. ]
Back when I left home, it was for Genesis chasing after a dream, his eyes on the distant hero. But then, I got to know you. In the times when you are quiet, and determined, and kind, and radiant, and real, as human as me, but... peerless. How could I not fall in love? And how could even consider myself worthy to stand by your side... [ The hand on the back of Sephiroth's head slides, slowly and gently and deliberately, down along the length of Sephiroth's spine. Then curves around the side of a hip, and continues down one thigh, until it can stop wrapped gently around Sephiroth's knee. ] Or in your arms.
Yet, here I am. [ He tilts his face up to claim another kiss from Sephiroth's lips. ] And if you have allowed me here, then I'd better meet you halfway. As an equal.
One day, I will relieve you from the burden of keeping this from me - though not from my presence or my lov. Until then, I trust you with it.
[Oh dear... There's something terribly gratifying about the way Angeal looks at him with such surprise and awe when his back is pushed against the couch and he finds himself kissed so tenderly.
It feels even better to have Angeal's arms wrapped around him, his fingers gently tangling in his hair. It seems a bit trite to say that this is better than anything he could have imagined in the rare instances he'd allow himself to indulge, but... it's true. And then Angeal is saying sweet things to him-- every word that Sephiroth has ever longed to hear, but especially... as human as me.
Because... in the end, that's one of many things that had Sephiroth falling irrevocably in love with him. He's never been something "other" to Angeal; he's always just been a man.
But-- then Sephiroth's breath catches as Angeal's hand slides down his back, finding every little dip in his spine even through the leather. That breath stays lodged uselessly in his lungs the moment Angeal's hand wanders further down, finding the curve of his hip and lingering against his thigh. He has to remember to actively breathe by the time that hand reaches his knee, and when the breath finally leaves his body, it does so in the softest:] --oh. [It barely registers when Angeal reaches up to kiss him-- like his brain has short-circuited and fizzled hopelessly out of commission.
He's not even really thinking when one of his hands moves, falling away from Angeal's shoulder to find that wandering hand instead, imploringly urging it back up his thigh. He ends up digging his fingers under the fabric of Angeal's glove in the process, almost hungrily peeling it off his hand. He'll find room to be embarrassed about it when he comes back down to earth, but-- he's just eager to feel those strong fingers pressing against his leg again... and with one less barrier of leather between them.]
I-- [What were they talking about? Sephiroth's all but forgotten, which is... quite unprecedented for him, to be put out of sorts like this. ...Oh-- Angeal Hewley, look what you've done to him. He blinks a couple times, trying to think back over Angeal's words in some muddied half-dizzy cluster of a thought process, before he finally finds words of his own:] Holding this space for you isn't a burden.
[ So, so softly, and Angeal is looking. Very, very attentively. The way Sephiroth's breathing is not working, his eyes unfocused. The way he scrambles to get the glove off, and then struggles to identify thoughts, words.
Oh... oh, indeed.
He lets his palm slide back up along Sephiroth's thigh, slower now, letting sensation, warmth, pressure soak in through to covered, pale skin.
Much slower. ]
Stop me where it feels good.
[ Sound, touch, anything will work.
As his hand moves, his thumb kneads the muscled flesh of Sephiroth's thigh, gentle but firm, and he will squeeze slightly if he makes it all the way to the curve of the hip. All through this, his darkened eyes are on Sephiroth, and, after a moment, he allows himself to register certain sensations, pressed close as they are.
Out of almost impish curiosity, he shifts his hips, pressing and sliding them up a little. Mostly to create sensation for Sephiroth and see if he likes it, but the stimulation makes his own vision swim with stars. All of a sudden, he fully recognizes why Sephiroth was scrambling for his glove. ]
[Sephiroth is keenly aware of the way Angeal's looking at him, and he's a little surprised that he doesn't melt right there under the weight of those intense eyes, drinking in the sight of him.
He even starts to indulge it a little, letting his head tilt back as Angeal diligently works his hand up his leg. Angeal takes such great care not to rush-- to press his fingers into every inch of muscle and let the warmth of his palm press in. Sephiroth even lets his eyes flutter shut for a moment--
And then suddenly, Angeal's pushing up between his legs, sliding his hips in closer and--
It's like a reflex, the way Sephiroth's back snaps into a straight line and he meets the slide of Angeal's hips with a jolt of his own. His breathing quickens, and his lips part, but... no sound comes quite yet outside of an initial breath that shudders wildly from his throat. It certainly catches him off guard to suddenly feel like control over his own body has been soundly snatched from him-- to feel like some starved beast seeking satiation through friction and the press of Angeal's fingertips against his thigh.
And Angeal must certainly feel it-- the way Sephiroth's leg muscles pull taut with tension and delight both.
One of Sephiroth's hands had been resting peacefully against Angeal's chest before all of this, but it's now wound up tight in his shirt. Once he finds the wherewithal to be aware of it, he slowly pries his fingers free. For what purpose, he can't decide at first. He hasn't felt this disoriented in a long time, and never under such pleasant circumstances. Eventually his fingers find Angeal's pauldrons, and... he decides they're in the way. He unhooks the straps so that he can peel them off and toss them somewhere - anywhere - else, and he's satisfied with how much easier he can sink against Angeal - and Angeal against the couch - with them gone.
Eventually, his head dips down until his forehead is just resting against Angeal's. He lets the other man's hand explore its way up to his hip before he sinks his fingertips in, pressing Angeal's palm down firmly against the curve of it and holding it there. Sephiroth wants him to feel it twofold when he rolls his hips forward, seeking friction until he feels a sharp tug deep in his belly.
It's then that Sephiroth finally makes a sound, his mouth breathlessly forming around Angeal's name.]
[ Angeal has seen before reflexes take over Sephiroth's motions in battle, practiced grace deadly and beautiful.
This is different. This seems more instinct, uncoordinated and determined, a need finally allowed satiation, and he would possibly get drunk on simply watching - were the stimulation not driving him higher and higher and hotter and hotter.
He is not... quite silent.
When Sephiroth's hips start moving, he manages a low, raw, ] yeah. Just like that, so good.
[ But, after that, coherence falls apart for him, and he only manages quiet groans when Sephiroth's angle is particularly good, or the pressure is just right, his pupils blown out and his body on fire.
Then Sephiroth is scrambling with his pauldrons, and he... realizes he is very far from coordinated enough to help, so he lets Sephiroth release them - himself biting at the fingertips of his remaining glove to take it off, and placing his palm on the way-too-tempting bare skin. Only for his fingers to curl, helplessly, in pleasure, blunt nails less scratching than sliding along Sephiroth's skin, trembling. So he takes his hand away, not to mar skin that is exposed unintentionally, and settles his hand to mirror the other hand on Sephiroth's hip, moving with him, encouraging, then tightening as his own world narrows down to this. Sephiroth's body moving against his, warm forehead pressed against his, curtain of silvery white hair shutting away all the rest of existence.
Then Sephiroth's breathlessly crying out his name, and Angeal comes undone, fingers digging into the man's hips and his own thrusting up, helplessly. ]
Seph... oh, Seph.
[ It's just this side of a quiet growl, not enough left to consider if the affectionate form of the name will be welcome, wanted, just caught up in him. This is ... how he wants them to be. Inextricably bound.
... later, he might concede the mess is less pleasant, but, Goddess, this feels so incomparably good, right now. ]
[Angeal's bare fingers find their way to Sephiroth's exposed chest, dragging down his skin-- and he swears they leave his skin scorched in their wake. Add that to those delectable noises Angeal has begun to make, the way he groans softly but with such urgency-- well, it certainly leaves Sephiroth's body aching with want. He starts to protest when Angeal inevitably pulls his hand away, but he can't find it in him to complain too much when both hands end up pressed against his hips.
It does, however, make him realize how deeply he yearns for skin-to-skin contact, and for the first time, he's begrudging how much of his body he keeps concealed under many layers of clothing. He's a little at war with himself-- torn between wanting to shed some of it and being reluctant to separate himself from Angeal long enough to do so. Either way, he's not going to last too long like this. Touch-starved and repressed as he is, he's already coming apart at the seams, losing himself in a heady daze. His immaculate composure has all but dissolved, and while that would normally be something he'd find worthy of shame, he just... can't be bothered.
Perhaps he'll be more embarrassed of the way he's nearly fallen apart after the fact-- of the way his breaths have begun to come out in shorter excited pants the more Angeal meets his rhythm, of the way he barely strangles back a moan when Angeal digs his fingers into his hips and thrusts against him.
Right now? He's more than happy to let himself be wrapped up in this wondrous thing he'd never quite allowed himself to want so badly.
His skin is practically on fire, and he's ravenous for more contact. He'll compromise with his earlier indecision by electing to at least get Angeal's pants pulled off his hips.] Just a moment... [Sephiroth takes this time to free his hands of their leathery prisons before he adjusts his position and slides one hand down between them. It's more to give an indication of his intentions more than anything-- to carefully slow the motions of Angeal's hips rather than jarring them to an unsatisfying stop. Indulgently, he'll press his palm against Angeal's bulge for a moment, letting his hand knead to and fro between his legs-- a little apology to make up for taking pressure away when he scoots his own hips back a bit. His endeavor to remove Angeal's pants is stopped short when his hand eventually slides back up and is met with not only one but two belts. And that's not including the suspenders Angeal happens to be sporting on top of it. It's never occurred to him how annoying the standard SOLDIER uniform is until now, and this realization is met with a grunt of impatient exasperation.]
Must you wear so many belts?
[In the heat of the moment, he - of course - fails to recognize his own hypocrisy. He's far more annoyed at the effort it's taking just to gain access to Angeal's pants, resolving that if he can just get them unzipped and opened, he'll be satisfied. He has to undo the loops on both belts, but he bypasses the suspenders entirely by sliding his fingers under the suspender's harness, finding the button clasping his pants shut, and deftly undoing it. Thankfully, standard issue SOLDIER pants are fairly spacious, so once he gets them unzipped, he's able to open them a fair bit.
Pleased with his little victory, he goes right ahead and slips his now-bare hand in, pushing Angeal's underwear down until he's exposed his cock. With a satisfied hum, he wraps his hand firmly around him, letting his fingers press curiously along his length. He'll gladly continue what they started in a moment, but for now, he just wants to... admire. Take a little moment to appreciate the way Angeal's face is wracked with pleasure and awe, those beautiful stormy eyes heavy-lidded with dizziness.]
[ ... talking about interesting noises Angeal is making, he makes one that is just this side of a whimper when Sephiroth's hand stills his motions, eyes opening wide and mind blanking out for a moment. He really hasn't thought so far as to Sephiroth specific attention there, fingers gentle and yet more used to holding a sword than, well, this. Just a little harder than he has done himself, and so, so good. A single question floats up in his mind. Is this how Sephiroth has touched himself?
... If Sephiroth's hand is still there, he can feel Angeal's erection practically jumping as a result of that thought, getting even harder.
It does help him focus somewhat, at least. ]
Of course.
[ Whatever Sephiroth wishes. And, as he starts with his own gloves, Angeal forces himself to concentrate enough to start working on the buckles of Sephiroth's coat, too. That can't be comfortable, in the way they are. So when the question comes, his first reaction is a rumbling snort, because that question coming from Sephiroth himself is, well. Rich.
But then it turns into a thoughtful hum, as he finally manages to push dark leather back from broad shoulders, letting Sephiroth get rid of it the rest of the way when he wishes. ]
Now that you mention it, I suppose I don't have to. Not anymore.
[ He is not SOLDIER, anymore, and he never will be, again. He doesn't have to - he shouldn't - be wearing the standard issue clothing--
And then his thoughts get again blanked out when Sephiroth just goes for the prize his cock and that alone, and this is one more time today that Sephiroth, one or another, has managed to totally short out his mind.
After a long moment, he laboriously swallows, makes his eyes focus on the beautiful, smug face above him, also far, far more relaxed than he has ever seen it, and so breathtaking like that, and his lips twitch slightly. ]
For me, much. [ His voice almost breaks at the end, this is so much sensation and emotion all at once, but he presses on, reaching one hand (it shakes slightly, he notices) to run the pad of a finger from the exquisite tip of Sephiroth's chin, down the pale column of his throat, and then down his chest, and further. Until he can cup Sephiroth, in turn, letting the heel of his palm slide, pressing ever so slightly, along the length. ] But what about you? Is this how you want to... go on?
[ It's very, very challenging to even think like this. But he both doesn't want Sephiroth to lack attention... and wants to touch, himself.
Still... it is Sephiroth's choice.
(This time. He has many, many ideas about other times.) ]
[It's quite gratifying to be able to pull a noise like that out of Angeal-- stoic and calm Angeal who never so much as nearly-whimpers at anything.
He lets Angeal slide the jacket off his shoulders, then obligingly peels it off the rest of the way until it lands behind him on the floor in a muted thump. Admittedly, it does feel much better now that it's gone-- especially when they're pressed close like this. The air hitting his flushed skin is enough to send prickles up his back, but he doesn't shiver. Of course not.]
We'll find you better clothes. [Less complicated. Again, ironic coming from him, but.] You can borrow mine in the meantime.
[Which-- is another one of those things Sephiroth never really let himself humor until now, but... now that he has, he's a bit enamored with it. They're close to the same size, with Angeal being slightly taller and more barrel-chested next to Sephiroth's more lean stature. But... he'll probably fit just fine into most of Sephiroth's casual shirts and pants. He'll revisit that thought later, when Angeal isn't looking beautifully dazed beneath him, his voice nearly cracking from the pleasure.
Angeal's hand is wandering now-- his trembling fingers taking in the curve of his chin first. When they meet his throat, Sephiroth indulges them-- tipping his head back to allow further access, then leans into them as they trail down his chest. He's never quite cared for being revered, but it's so much different when it's Angeal looking at him this way, taking the time to intimately admire his body. His lashes flutter when Angeal's strong hand eventually slides down to his groin, a pleasant and maddeningly tempting pressure that reflexively bucks his hips forward a little. The sensation coaxes a soft groan out of him, followed by another stuttered breath as he tries to measure his breathing. His fingers twitch, his slow strokes along Angeal's cock jarring to a stop for a moment-- but he's very, very careful not to squeeze Angeal too hard in the process.
But what about you?
...There's a deep-rooted part of him that can't help but think he needs to stay in control-- the product of all those years of grueling training and exercises that have been etched into the fiber of his being. Even in a situation like this, he finds it impossible to completely let go. But-- none of this is about control, is it? It's about trusting another person enough to be vulnerable, to express every need and want that's gone buried all this time.
And he trusts Angeal.]
I had something of a plan... [He's mostly been going with the flow, figuring things out as he goes... but he did have a little idea of his own. Undoing his pants had been part of that plan, but Angeal seems eager to do it himself, so... by all means.] Go ahead.
[ Angeal's mouth twitches, eyes widening slightly at the idea of wearing Sephiroth's clothes. That... is not exactly what he was thinking of - it is, however, more appealing. At least right now, very much so. Still, he can't help but tease. ]
If you think that will be less frustrating.
[ And then he can sink all his attention into Sephiroth's reactions. His reverence is not the kind that turns Sephiroth into a distance, unreachable person who must be, always, perfect and flawless. No, his is appreciation and attraction, and he is enjoying the give-and-take of touch and reaction, going both ways. Warm, and real, and so, so breathtakingly gorgeous. His own hips buck slightly, helplessly, as the hand on his cock stills, firm, so good, and eyelids flutter.
But not enough that he misses... something in Sephiroth's expression, at the question. Not at the touch, so he doesn't stop it, but there is a fleeting moment of uncertainty which gets chased away by determination bordering on bracing himself.
Angeal isn't straying from the truth when he responds, ] now I am very, very interested in your plan.
[ Yet... some things do need to get said, and his other hand comes up to caress Sephiroth's face, thumb eventually brushing his lower lip. ]
But if you're not certain about something, or just not ready, you don't have to agree to it just because I am asking. That's why it's a question, you know? 'Not right now' is a very acceptable answer. As is simply 'don't.'
All right?
[ This is mostly new to Angeal himself. He can only imagine how much more so it is for Sephiroth. It absolutely stands to reason that some things need to be said. Before he causes more suffering. ]
[Listen, if Angeal's going to start spending more time at Sephiroth's apartment (or rather, if Sephiroth is forbidding him to leave), wearing his clothes seems like the natural conclusion to make. Especially if they're going to end up coming back off anyway...]
Far less frustrating.
[But he does pause and mellow a little when Angeal's free hand reaches his face, his thumb pulling ever so gently at his bottom lip. It feels so much different when his gloves are off. His palm is so warm against his cheek, and his fingers... a little rough from a life of hard work but not unpleasantly so. He finds himself leaning into the touch, turning his face into it to kiss those pleasantly rough fingers.
The words that follow only make Sephiroth smile all the more fondly at Angeal. Even in the heat of the moment, he's thinking of Sephiroth's comfort and well-being. For that alone, Angeal earns a kiss - soft and enamored - against his lips.]
Don't worry. I'm aware. I don't intend to let you bully me into anything unless I like it. [His fond smile turns into a serpentine little smirk just then, his fingers teasingly pressing along Angeal's length until his thumb finds the sensitive tip. Partly to be a bit of a bastard... and partly because he likes the way it feels when Angeal bucks into his hand.]
And... as long as you know the same standards are true for you -- that you are not obligated to do something you don't like -- then I am content.
[ ... in that case, you want to give him your bathrobe for easy access, not your clothes. The response does make Angeal smirk, just a little. He's definitely looking forward to Sephiroth's reactions to said clothes... both good and frustrated.
And he will be getting some clothes of his own, he thinks. He hasn't forgotten that, whatever Sephiroth may end up choosing, Angeal himself will no longer be with Shinra. But this is for... another time to figure out.
For now, he is very happy to watch Sephiroth, feel him, melt into that kiss and, yes, buck into his touch and groan helplessly. He is very, very hard at this point, and thus very, very sensitive, and Sephiroth's touch is so good, and he presses on with his own, still through fabric. ]
It wouldn't be fair otherwise. [ Yes, for once, he actually is willing to include himself in the fairness consideration. Not because he is afraid of Sephiroth in any way, but because he needs them to trust each other for what is coming - the bad, but also the good. And he won't break that trust any further than he already has. ] So... your plan?
[TECHNICALLY... that's still an article of clothing. Okay, okay, semantics aside, that would be a more logical choice, and maybe that'll get thrown into the self-indulgent pile of clothes that gets shoved into Angeal's arms later.
The way Angeal melts into that kiss, groaning against his mouth, has Sephiroth nearly melting himself. To think he gets to be the one working these delightful pleasured sounds out of Angeal... He'll give another kiss before moving his free hand encouragingly to Angeal's, self-indulgently pressing it a little more firmly against his groin - his hips pushing forward in kind - with a soft exhale before letting his own hand trail up a bit and rest a little further up Angeal's forearm.]
Get me out of my pants first.
[And he'll even behave and stop teasing Angeal long enough for him to do so undistracted. Or... as undistracted as they can get when they're both incredibly turned on.]
[ Or Angeal could keep Sephiroth distracted by walking around in just boxer briefs and wing feathers. That is also an option. That said, yes, he will wear his boyfriend's clothes. At his own discretion but liberally.
For now... only the now exists, and Sephiroth's touches, and the feel of his eagerness, in the presses on both side of his hand. Angeal grins. ]
With pleasure.
[ He raises his hand to prompt Sephiroth to lift his, his own free hand settling on Sephiroth's shoulder, and then gets to work. For a moment, he considers properly undoing the belt and releasing the pants, but, for the sake of evenness and mental comfort, he will limit himself to what Sephiroth ... instructed him to do. He slides his fingers beneath the belt to reach for the button and undo it, and then, eyes crinkling slightly, takes a moment to undo the zipper beneath it, the slide of the edge of his palm ahead of the zipper pressure and teasing of its own. Then he goes on to run his fingers back along the underwear-clad shaft a couple more time, tightening the fabric against skin to offer more sensation, and only then carefully frees Sephiroth's cock to fully touch. And promptly wraps his entire palm around it, giving a careful but deliberate squeeze and slide. ]
You spoil me. [ In appreciation, not an objection. ] So I'll just have to spoil you back, right?
[ It stands to reason, right?
A couple more slow, tight pumps, and he lets go, to make sure that no elastic or anything like that is pressing wrong.
[Sephiroth can't help but watch Angeal with rapt attention. The way he teases him with his palm as he unzips his pants nearly drives him mad, and Angeal taking his sweet time to drag his fingers along his length through the fabric of his underwear drives a sound out of him that he can't quite quantify. Eager, perhaps, with a growl of impatience mixed in.]
Angeal--
[But the moment Angeal's hand fully meets his cock without the barrier of fabric, firmly yet carefully pressing around him and finally providing friction, it's like a lightning bolt arcs up Sephiroth's back. It curves him up and forward, jarring something approaching a pleasured gasp right out of him. He's so unbearably touch-starved, he's surprised and almost embarrassed by the way he's reacting-- his self-control has all but melted away. The sensation - and the reminder that it's Angeal providing it - is enough to make his world spin. And yet, he's razor focused. So much so that his slitted pupils flare out wide, certainly not unlike a cat whose just laid its eyes on something it wants.
He almost doesn't hear what Angeal says next, the way his heart pounds vibrantly in his ears, and it takes him a moment to recalibrate himself and find a coherent stream of thought.
...Right. He'd had a plan.
He lifts a hand and-- for half-second it flutters. He notices immediately, brows furrowed subtly, and stops the tremor with well-practiced control. It's a very fleeting thing - blink and you'll miss it - the way he almost looks annoyed with himself. But he doesn't linger on it, promptly moving that hand to cradle the back of Angeal's head, fingers threading easily through his raven hair. His other hand has shifted underneath Angeal's cock by now, more cupping it than anything. His voice is relatively measured when he finally finds the wherewithal to speak.]
Ah. I... was thinking-- [He's sinking down slowly now-- sliding so close that he has to move his face to the side of Angeal's, lips against his ear. It takes a little adjustment to find the right spot, but he eventually manages to slide the length of his cock against Angeal's, just enough that it makes his breath stutter a little. He adjusts his hand a bit to cradle them both.] --we could try it like this?
[But he, of course, stops there to await Angeal's answer. It seemed like a nice idea in his head, but that doesn't necessarily make it nice in practice, after all.]
[ Angeal smirks a little at the growl, but doesn't slow down further. He wants to make this good, not actually try Sephiroth's patience. So when contact happens - and, oh, it's somehow different to have his hand wrapped around Sephiroth rather than himself - he sinks into sensations, including watching his
Partner. Watching his partner...
get lost for a moment or ten.
(This close, he can see the way his pupils change, and a part of him, a very, very quiet at this time part, does remark that he should have realized Sephiroth is not only human a long, long time ago.) (Then he realizes it doesn't matter. They are here now.)
His hand slows down somewhat, as Sephiroth makes an attempt to speak, then to move, and he adjusts accordingly ... letting his hand slide across Sephiroth's shoulders and hold him close, wrapping the warm palm around the opposite, powerful shoulder.
Sephiroth finishes the thought, the demonstration, the question, and Angeal loses his breath for another moment. Despite it being the most logical option, the fact that it is wanted by Sephiroth still, still is almost too much.
He shifts his hand so his fingers tangle with Sephiroth's, around their joined lengths, and squeezes, very gently. ]
I will very much like that, yes. [ A beat, and then, quieter, a little sheepish. ] Just let me know if it gets too dry for you?
[ ... not that he has anything actually useful. But he can, uh. Spit? That can help a tiny bit. For his part... he can work with dry. Over the last months and months, whenever he has indulged, it has been halfway mixed with punishing himself, so, uh. Sephiroth's comfort levels might be more relevant. ]
[Dear gods, Angeal. If Sephiroth were privy to his thoughts, he might have actually barked a rare laugh and startled them both. But it's not like he has any room to judge. He doesn't exactly know what he's doing, and he fully intended on just Dealing With It. He is, after all, a weird mess of a man whose experience with human intimacy of any kind is close to negligible. Moreover, he knows he's not going to last much longer anyway. If this were going to be a slower, more drawn-out sort of endeavor, he might feel differently.
...Actually, now that they're intimately entangled like this, it occurs to Sephiroth that he doesn't actually know how to... proceed, exactly. He'd planned all the way up to this point, and it does feel good to be pinned together like this, but now-- hm.
He's probably thinking way too hard about the logistics - of who moves first and how much and so on - before he finally just gives up.] Feel free to take the lead. [Just in case Angeal feels comfortable enough to do so.
Otherwise, Sephiroth is going to try and experiment with his movements, albeit awkwardly, starting with the slow and curious roll of hips.]
[ He will get those rare laughs. They have just taken their time to get here and distracting further might just border on frustration. Plus...
He wants to, just for a short little while, not feel entirely a failure.
He'll be the butt of jokes easily, after. Promise.
Besides, he blinks slightly at the ... request? Request, and smiles warmly, nodding, but also lets Sephiroth experiment-- oh. That slide, against his body and against his cock, is so good, and the sound he makes is a low rumble close to a purr, the hand on Sephiroth's shoulder caressing skin, trying to not catch on silvery strands. And, on the other side, he moves their joined hands up and down, and then twisting his wrist a little. Friction and pressure, and attention on how it works on Sephiroth.
... that said... ]
Want to... shift a bit?
[ ... meaning. Sideways, so they're properly stretched on the couch, and he leans a little that way. ]
[It's less that Angeal is anything approaching a joke or a failure, and more that Sephiroth would simply be relieved to know he's not only one feeling like he's floundering hopelessly through this. He's so used to knowing how to gracefully traverse nearly any situation, and having all of that stripped away into raw vulnerability is... quite terrifying. He trusts Angeal, of course, but...
Well. It's a complicated mess of emotions. One that he'd rather not linger on too much if he can help it.
For the time being, he's glad to lose himself in this rush of heat and desire. His head dips a little lower until his face is faintly buried against the curve of Angeal's shoulder, where he's a little more willing to indulge in a muffled but pleasured sound or two as Angeal starts to find a little rhythm and friction with their movements. He's content to follow his lead, only making a small adjustment here and there until--]
--You want to move now? [If Sephiroth sounds a little exasperated-- well. He is, having been jarred out of his reverie a little. It would be more comfortable, true... but the way they're entangled makes movement a little difficult. It's not like Sephiroth has a tiny couch by any means, but it's not exactly the most spacious thing for two mountain-sized men to be rolling about on.
It's with a sigh that he relents.] As you wish. [But then he lifts his head until his mouth finds the stretch of exposed skin between the neckline of Angeal's shirt and his jaw, suckling a rough little kiss into his neck-- teeth and all. An affectionate warning to punctuate his next words:]
You best not let me fall off this couch, Angeal Hewley.
[And then he'll relinquish some of his weight into leaning with him. His fate is in your hands, Angeal. No pressure.]
[ ... leverage, but his thought gets distracted by that sucking, which makes him groan loudly and buck up into their joint hands hard, eyes half rolling back. ]
Goddess, Sephiroth. That feels good.
[ Will it leave a mark? On a SOLDIER's body, probably less than usual, but they will get to those, too.
Then he smiles, softly, and tilts his face down to claim Sephiroth's lips for a long moment. ]
I won't let you fall, not ever, from now on.
[ And yes, that is a promise that goes beyond the couch.
His ... unoccupied arm wraps around Sephiroth's waist, and his wing shifts so he can hold Sephiroth from the other side, and tilts sideways until he can hook his foot on the edge of the couch, and then pushes himself until he's supine on it, with Sephiroth still on top of him. Leaving him the control, but with much easier ability to move. (They are, indeed, a little too large, both, to be comfortable to move on the couch lying sideways. Another time, elsewhere. Besides... he likes to feal Sephiroth's weight on top of himself, he wonders if Sephiroth will like the reverse, too.) ]
There. [ He turks his wing out of the way again. ] This should give you much better leverage.
[Oh... Admittedly, Sephiroth wasn't expecting such a strong reaction to his affectionate warning bite, but he's certainly filing it away for use later. It feels... good to know he can pull these raw desirous things out of someone he's always known to be so composed, so reluctant to allow himself to indulge in anything. Not just that, but... he finds himself wondering what other things Angeal will like.
A thought he doesn't have long to mull over, as Angeal is moving in to kiss him. And it's not a short little peck-- it's a long and slow kiss that's easy to sink into. He's hesitant to part from it, but Angeal's assertion-- no, his promise is worth it. It's not lost on him, either-- how when they start to shift, Angeal moves his wing - a thing he has made it clear he abhors - to shield him from falling. It's a beautiful gesture above all else. How can Sephiroth not smile in turn?
Very nearly does he ask Angeal to let it stay-- to say that it feels like a second embrace from someone he loves. But he thinks better of it, worrying that it would be unwelcome and ruin the mood. Another time, perhaps...
He does his best to make the switch in position as graceful and easy as possible. It takes some adjustment-- to figure out how to adjust the weight on his knees so he doesn't simply crash full-bodied on top of Angeal. Which... would not be pleasant or attractive. His free hand eventually finds a place above Angeal's head, allowing him to further adjust and sink a little lower against him. Despite his earlier grumbling, it does indeed prove to be far more comfortable-- more pleasant to be stretched out atop Angeal properly. It feels good to let the weight of his hips rest more fully against their hands, and he takes a moment to simply enjoy the sensation of it-- to let it sink in that they're really here, half-naked and pleasuring one another on his couch. He first hums his approval and then:]
Very well. A point for you.
[And as if to reward him, Sephiroth dips his head to kiss him, only... because of his position, he soon finds his hair spilling over his shoulders and pooling around Angeal's neck and face. He'd be more annoyed by it, except he can't help but laugh - a soft yet rich little thing - at the string of complications they seem to be having. Because that, too, is beautiful in its own way. Imperfect and human.]
...Would you mind?
[He'd brush his hair out of the way himself, but he's not keen on detangling their hands, and his other hand is presently keeping him propped up, so... Help would be nice if Angeal is so inclined.]
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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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He swallows, then breathes out deeply. ]
One day, probably soon, I will shown you why I spent some of the time after I learned just wishing that I were... human. It has been many, many long days, turning into months, and more. It will take me a while, before I stop thinking of myself as ... lesser. Wrong.
But I will, Sephiroth. Because you see me as a man and that is enough for me to try. And I do apologize for bringing the mood down but this is - the first step of keeping my promise. I won't hide.
[ A beat, then a small, wry smile. ]
It may take some good, good deeds before I will consider myself a good man, but I'm here to work on that.
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And Angeal is right-- this is part of keeping their promise. Sephiroth would rather he speak of the pain in his heart than continue to bury it. Accordingly, he shakes his head some at Angeal's apology.]
No... Don't apologize. I want you to feel free to tell me what lies in your heart. Even when it's pain. [A breath-- he thinks again of Angeal's attempt to end his own life today, and his entire chest contracts.] Especially then.
[He doesn't want to end up in that place again-- with Angeal feeling isolated and burdensome, and Sephiroth wondering what he could have done differently.
It may take some good, good deeds before I will consider myself a good man, Angeal says, and Sephiroth laughs softly.] You've always been impossibly hard on yourself. [And Sephiroth finds himself wanting to comfort him-- to soothe that doubt, that pain etched into every part of him. He spreads his fingers out across Angeal's chest again, using it as a bit of gentle leverage to push the other man back against the couch. He adjusts, sitting up on his knees a little more, sliding a bit closer-- he dips his face down until his lips are but a breath away from Angeal's.]
...So, I suppose I'll just have to carry that truth for you instead... until you're ready.
[And then he takes Angeal's mouth against his, punctuating his words with a slow, gentle kiss.]
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But, tonight, there has been enough of the hard truths, and even this heartache is fading, with the reassurance and the laugh and the--
--oh!
Angeal's eyes widen slightly as he is pressed back, as words upon words wash over him, not like a tempest but soft, soothing rain. Tension leeches out from his shoulders as the slow kiss makes him melt, one hand settling on the small of Sephiroth's back... and the other one cupping the back of his head, not trying to seek more than is given, not right now, but holding on, so very tenderly.
When he can finally breathe again, heart in his eyes, he quirks a small smile. ]
Back when I left home, it was for Genesis chasing after a dream, his eyes on the distant hero. But then, I got to know you. In the times when you are quiet, and determined, and kind, and radiant, and real, as human as me, but... peerless. How could I not fall in love? And how could even consider myself worthy to stand by your side... [ The hand on the back of Sephiroth's head slides, slowly and gently and deliberately, down along the length of Sephiroth's spine. Then curves around the side of a hip, and continues down one thigh, until it can stop wrapped gently around Sephiroth's knee. ] Or in your arms.
Yet, here I am. [ He tilts his face up to claim another kiss from Sephiroth's lips. ] And if you have allowed me here, then I'd better meet you halfway. As an equal.
One day, I will relieve you from the burden of keeping this from me - though not from my presence or my lov. Until then, I trust you with it.
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It feels even better to have Angeal's arms wrapped around him, his fingers gently tangling in his hair. It seems a bit trite to say that this is better than anything he could have imagined in the rare instances he'd allow himself to indulge, but... it's true. And then Angeal is saying sweet things to him-- every word that Sephiroth has ever longed to hear, but especially... as human as me.
Because... in the end, that's one of many things that had Sephiroth falling irrevocably in love with him. He's never been something "other" to Angeal; he's always just been a man.
But-- then Sephiroth's breath catches as Angeal's hand slides down his back, finding every little dip in his spine even through the leather. That breath stays lodged uselessly in his lungs the moment Angeal's hand wanders further down, finding the curve of his hip and lingering against his thigh. He has to remember to actively breathe by the time that hand reaches his knee, and when the breath finally leaves his body, it does so in the softest:] --oh. [It barely registers when Angeal reaches up to kiss him-- like his brain has short-circuited and fizzled hopelessly out of commission.
He's not even really thinking when one of his hands moves, falling away from Angeal's shoulder to find that wandering hand instead, imploringly urging it back up his thigh. He ends up digging his fingers under the fabric of Angeal's glove in the process, almost hungrily peeling it off his hand. He'll find room to be embarrassed about it when he comes back down to earth, but-- he's just eager to feel those strong fingers pressing against his leg again... and with one less barrier of leather between them.]
I-- [What were they talking about? Sephiroth's all but forgotten, which is... quite unprecedented for him, to be put out of sorts like this. ...Oh-- Angeal Hewley, look what you've done to him. He blinks a couple times, trying to think back over Angeal's words in some muddied half-dizzy cluster of a thought process, before he finally finds words of his own:] Holding this space for you isn't a burden.
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[ So, so softly, and Angeal is looking. Very, very attentively. The way Sephiroth's breathing is not working, his eyes unfocused. The way he scrambles to get the glove off, and then struggles to identify thoughts, words.
Oh... oh, indeed.
He lets his palm slide back up along Sephiroth's thigh, slower now, letting sensation, warmth, pressure soak in through to covered, pale skin.
Much slower. ]
Stop me where it feels good.
[ Sound, touch, anything will work.
As his hand moves, his thumb kneads the muscled flesh of Sephiroth's thigh, gentle but firm, and he will squeeze slightly if he makes it all the way to the curve of the hip. All through this, his darkened eyes are on Sephiroth, and, after a moment, he allows himself to register certain sensations, pressed close as they are.
Out of almost impish curiosity, he shifts his hips, pressing and sliding them up a little. Mostly to create sensation for Sephiroth and see if he likes it, but the stimulation makes his own vision swim with stars. All of a sudden, he fully recognizes why Sephiroth was scrambling for his glove. ]
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He even starts to indulge it a little, letting his head tilt back as Angeal diligently works his hand up his leg. Angeal takes such great care not to rush-- to press his fingers into every inch of muscle and let the warmth of his palm press in. Sephiroth even lets his eyes flutter shut for a moment--
And then suddenly, Angeal's pushing up between his legs, sliding his hips in closer and--
It's like a reflex, the way Sephiroth's back snaps into a straight line and he meets the slide of Angeal's hips with a jolt of his own. His breathing quickens, and his lips part, but... no sound comes quite yet outside of an initial breath that shudders wildly from his throat. It certainly catches him off guard to suddenly feel like control over his own body has been soundly snatched from him-- to feel like some starved beast seeking satiation through friction and the press of Angeal's fingertips against his thigh.
And Angeal must certainly feel it-- the way Sephiroth's leg muscles pull taut with tension and delight both.
One of Sephiroth's hands had been resting peacefully against Angeal's chest before all of this, but it's now wound up tight in his shirt. Once he finds the wherewithal to be aware of it, he slowly pries his fingers free. For what purpose, he can't decide at first. He hasn't felt this disoriented in a long time, and never under such pleasant circumstances. Eventually his fingers find Angeal's pauldrons, and... he decides they're in the way. He unhooks the straps so that he can peel them off and toss them somewhere - anywhere - else, and he's satisfied with how much easier he can sink against Angeal - and Angeal against the couch - with them gone.
Eventually, his head dips down until his forehead is just resting against Angeal's. He lets the other man's hand explore its way up to his hip before he sinks his fingertips in, pressing Angeal's palm down firmly against the curve of it and holding it there. Sephiroth wants him to feel it twofold when he rolls his hips forward, seeking friction until he feels a sharp tug deep in his belly.
It's then that Sephiroth finally makes a sound, his mouth breathlessly forming around Angeal's name.]
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This is different. This seems more instinct, uncoordinated and determined, a need finally allowed satiation, and he would possibly get drunk on simply watching - were the stimulation not driving him higher and higher and hotter and hotter.
He is not... quite silent.
When Sephiroth's hips start moving, he manages a low, raw, ] yeah. Just like that, so good.
[ But, after that, coherence falls apart for him, and he only manages quiet groans when Sephiroth's angle is particularly good, or the pressure is just right, his pupils blown out and his body on fire.
Then Sephiroth is scrambling with his pauldrons, and he... realizes he is very far from coordinated enough to help, so he lets Sephiroth release them - himself biting at the fingertips of his remaining glove to take it off, and placing his palm on the way-too-tempting bare skin. Only for his fingers to curl, helplessly, in pleasure, blunt nails less scratching than sliding along Sephiroth's skin, trembling. So he takes his hand away, not to mar skin that is exposed unintentionally, and settles his hand to mirror the other hand on Sephiroth's hip, moving with him, encouraging, then tightening as his own world narrows down to this. Sephiroth's body moving against his, warm forehead pressed against his, curtain of silvery white hair shutting away all the rest of existence.
Then Sephiroth's breathlessly crying out his name, and Angeal comes undone, fingers digging into the man's hips and his own thrusting up, helplessly. ]
Seph... oh, Seph.
[ It's just this side of a quiet growl, not enough left to consider if the affectionate form of the name will be welcome, wanted, just caught up in him. This is ... how he wants them to be. Inextricably bound.
... later, he might concede the mess is less pleasant, but, Goddess, this feels so incomparably good, right now. ]
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It does, however, make him realize how deeply he yearns for skin-to-skin contact, and for the first time, he's begrudging how much of his body he keeps concealed under many layers of clothing. He's a little at war with himself-- torn between wanting to shed some of it and being reluctant to separate himself from Angeal long enough to do so. Either way, he's not going to last too long like this. Touch-starved and repressed as he is, he's already coming apart at the seams, losing himself in a heady daze. His immaculate composure has all but dissolved, and while that would normally be something he'd find worthy of shame, he just... can't be bothered.
Perhaps he'll be more embarrassed of the way he's nearly fallen apart after the fact-- of the way his breaths have begun to come out in shorter excited pants the more Angeal meets his rhythm, of the way he barely strangles back a moan when Angeal digs his fingers into his hips and thrusts against him.
Right now? He's more than happy to let himself be wrapped up in this wondrous thing he'd never quite allowed himself to want so badly.
His skin is practically on fire, and he's ravenous for more contact. He'll compromise with his earlier indecision by electing to at least get Angeal's pants pulled off his hips.] Just a moment... [Sephiroth takes this time to free his hands of their leathery prisons before he adjusts his position and slides one hand down between them. It's more to give an indication of his intentions more than anything-- to carefully slow the motions of Angeal's hips rather than jarring them to an unsatisfying stop. Indulgently, he'll press his palm against Angeal's bulge for a moment, letting his hand knead to and fro between his legs-- a little apology to make up for taking pressure away when he scoots his own hips back a bit. His endeavor to remove Angeal's pants is stopped short when his hand eventually slides back up and is met with not only one but two belts. And that's not including the suspenders Angeal happens to be sporting on top of it. It's never occurred to him how annoying the standard SOLDIER uniform is until now, and this realization is met with a grunt of impatient exasperation.]
Must you wear so many belts?
[In the heat of the moment, he - of course - fails to recognize his own hypocrisy. He's far more annoyed at the effort it's taking just to gain access to Angeal's pants, resolving that if he can just get them unzipped and opened, he'll be satisfied. He has to undo the loops on both belts, but he bypasses the suspenders entirely by sliding his fingers under the suspender's harness, finding the button clasping his pants shut, and deftly undoing it. Thankfully, standard issue SOLDIER pants are fairly spacious, so once he gets them unzipped, he's able to open them a fair bit.
Pleased with his little victory, he goes right ahead and slips his now-bare hand in, pushing Angeal's underwear down until he's exposed his cock. With a satisfied hum, he wraps his hand firmly around him, letting his fingers press curiously along his length. He'll gladly continue what they started in a moment, but for now, he just wants to... admire. Take a little moment to appreciate the way Angeal's face is wracked with pleasure and awe, those beautiful stormy eyes heavy-lidded with dizziness.]
That's better, don't you think?
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... If Sephiroth's hand is still there, he can feel Angeal's erection practically jumping as a result of that thought, getting even harder.
It does help him focus somewhat, at least. ]
Of course.
[ Whatever Sephiroth wishes. And, as he starts with his own gloves, Angeal forces himself to concentrate enough to start working on the buckles of Sephiroth's coat, too. That can't be comfortable, in the way they are. So when the question comes, his first reaction is a rumbling snort, because that question coming from Sephiroth himself is, well. Rich.
But then it turns into a thoughtful hum, as he finally manages to push dark leather back from broad shoulders, letting Sephiroth get rid of it the rest of the way when he wishes. ]
Now that you mention it, I suppose I don't have to. Not anymore.
[ He is not SOLDIER, anymore, and he never will be, again. He doesn't have to - he shouldn't - be wearing the standard issue clothing--
And then his thoughts get again blanked out when Sephiroth just goes for
the prizehis cock and that alone, and this is one more time today that Sephiroth, one or another, has managed to totally short out his mind.After a long moment, he laboriously swallows, makes his eyes focus on the beautiful, smug face above him, also far, far more relaxed than he has ever seen it, and so breathtaking like that, and his lips twitch slightly. ]
For me, much. [ His voice almost breaks at the end, this is so much sensation and emotion all at once, but he presses on, reaching one hand (it shakes slightly, he notices) to run the pad of a finger from the exquisite tip of Sephiroth's chin, down the pale column of his throat, and then down his chest, and further. Until he can cup Sephiroth, in turn, letting the heel of his palm slide, pressing ever so slightly, along the length. ] But what about you? Is this how you want to... go on?
[ It's very, very challenging to even think like this. But he both doesn't want Sephiroth to lack attention... and wants to touch, himself.
Still... it is Sephiroth's choice.
(This time. He has many, many ideas about other times.) ]
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He lets Angeal slide the jacket off his shoulders, then obligingly peels it off the rest of the way until it lands behind him on the floor in a muted thump. Admittedly, it does feel much better now that it's gone-- especially when they're pressed close like this. The air hitting his flushed skin is enough to send prickles up his back, but he doesn't shiver. Of course not.]
We'll find you better clothes. [Less complicated. Again, ironic coming from him, but.] You can borrow mine in the meantime.
[Which-- is another one of those things Sephiroth never really let himself humor until now, but... now that he has, he's a bit enamored with it. They're close to the same size, with Angeal being slightly taller and more barrel-chested next to Sephiroth's more lean stature. But... he'll probably fit just fine into most of Sephiroth's casual shirts and pants. He'll revisit that thought later, when Angeal isn't looking beautifully dazed beneath him, his voice nearly cracking from the pleasure.
Angeal's hand is wandering now-- his trembling fingers taking in the curve of his chin first. When they meet his throat, Sephiroth indulges them-- tipping his head back to allow further access, then leans into them as they trail down his chest. He's never quite cared for being revered, but it's so much different when it's Angeal looking at him this way, taking the time to intimately admire his body. His lashes flutter when Angeal's strong hand eventually slides down to his groin, a pleasant and maddeningly tempting pressure that reflexively bucks his hips forward a little. The sensation coaxes a soft groan out of him, followed by another stuttered breath as he tries to measure his breathing. His fingers twitch, his slow strokes along Angeal's cock jarring to a stop for a moment-- but he's very, very careful not to squeeze Angeal too hard in the process.
But what about you?
...There's a deep-rooted part of him that can't help but think he needs to stay in control-- the product of all those years of grueling training and exercises that have been etched into the fiber of his being. Even in a situation like this, he finds it impossible to completely let go. But-- none of this is about control, is it? It's about trusting another person enough to be vulnerable, to express every need and want that's gone buried all this time.
And he trusts Angeal.]
I had something of a plan... [He's mostly been going with the flow, figuring things out as he goes... but he did have a little idea of his own. Undoing his pants had been part of that plan, but Angeal seems eager to do it himself, so... by all means.] Go ahead.
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If you think that will be less frustrating.
[ And then he can sink all his attention into Sephiroth's reactions. His reverence is not the kind that turns Sephiroth into a distance, unreachable person who must be, always, perfect and flawless. No, his is appreciation and attraction, and he is enjoying the give-and-take of touch and reaction, going both ways. Warm, and real, and so, so breathtakingly gorgeous. His own hips buck slightly, helplessly, as the hand on his cock stills, firm, so good, and eyelids flutter.
But not enough that he misses... something in Sephiroth's expression, at the question. Not at the touch, so he doesn't stop it, but there is a fleeting moment of uncertainty which gets chased away by determination bordering on bracing himself.
Angeal isn't straying from the truth when he responds, ] now I am very, very interested in your plan.
[ Yet... some things do need to get said, and his other hand comes up to caress Sephiroth's face, thumb eventually brushing his lower lip. ]
But if you're not certain about something, or just not ready, you don't have to agree to it just because I am asking. That's why it's a question, you know? 'Not right now' is a very acceptable answer. As is simply 'don't.'
All right?
[ This is mostly new to Angeal himself. He can only imagine how much more so it is for Sephiroth. It absolutely stands to reason that some things need to be said. Before he causes more suffering. ]
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Far less frustrating.
[But he does pause and mellow a little when Angeal's free hand reaches his face, his thumb pulling ever so gently at his bottom lip. It feels so much different when his gloves are off. His palm is so warm against his cheek, and his fingers... a little rough from a life of hard work but not unpleasantly so. He finds himself leaning into the touch, turning his face into it to kiss those pleasantly rough fingers.
The words that follow only make Sephiroth smile all the more fondly at Angeal. Even in the heat of the moment, he's thinking of Sephiroth's comfort and well-being. For that alone, Angeal earns a kiss - soft and enamored - against his lips.]
Don't worry. I'm aware. I don't intend to let you bully me into anything unless I like it. [His fond smile turns into a serpentine little smirk just then, his fingers teasingly pressing along Angeal's length until his thumb finds the sensitive tip. Partly to be a bit of a bastard... and partly because he likes the way it feels when Angeal bucks into his hand.]
And... as long as you know the same standards are true for you -- that you are not obligated to do something you don't like -- then I am content.
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And he will be getting some clothes of his own, he thinks. He hasn't forgotten that, whatever Sephiroth may end up choosing, Angeal himself will no longer be with Shinra. But this is for... another time to figure out.
For now, he is very happy to watch Sephiroth, feel him, melt into that kiss and, yes, buck into his touch and groan helplessly. He is very, very hard at this point, and thus very, very sensitive, and Sephiroth's touch is so good, and he presses on with his own, still through fabric. ]
It wouldn't be fair otherwise. [ Yes, for once, he actually is willing to include himself in the fairness consideration. Not because he is afraid of Sephiroth in any way, but because he needs them to trust each other for what is coming - the bad, but also the good. And he won't break that trust any further than he already has. ] So... your plan?
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The way Angeal melts into that kiss, groaning against his mouth, has Sephiroth nearly melting himself. To think he gets to be the one working these delightful pleasured sounds out of Angeal... He'll give another kiss before moving his free hand encouragingly to Angeal's, self-indulgently pressing it a little more firmly against his groin - his hips pushing forward in kind - with a soft exhale before letting his own hand trail up a bit and rest a little further up Angeal's forearm.]
Get me out of my pants first.
[And he'll even behave and stop teasing Angeal long enough for him to do so undistracted. Or... as undistracted as they can get when they're both incredibly turned on.]
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For now... only the now exists, and Sephiroth's touches, and the feel of his eagerness, in the presses on both side of his hand. Angeal grins. ]
With pleasure.
[ He raises his hand to prompt Sephiroth to lift his, his own free hand settling on Sephiroth's shoulder, and then gets to work. For a moment, he considers properly undoing the belt and releasing the pants, but, for the sake of evenness and mental comfort, he will limit himself to what Sephiroth ... instructed him to do. He slides his fingers beneath the belt to reach for the button and undo it, and then, eyes crinkling slightly, takes a moment to undo the zipper beneath it, the slide of the edge of his palm ahead of the zipper pressure and teasing of its own. Then he goes on to run his fingers back along the underwear-clad shaft a couple more time, tightening the fabric against skin to offer more sensation, and only then carefully frees Sephiroth's cock to fully touch. And promptly wraps his entire palm around it, giving a careful but deliberate squeeze and slide. ]
You spoil me. [ In appreciation, not an objection. ] So I'll just have to spoil you back, right?
[ It stands to reason, right?
A couple more slow, tight pumps, and he lets go, to make sure that no elastic or anything like that is pressing wrong.
And he's all yours, Sephiroth. ]
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Angeal--
[But the moment Angeal's hand fully meets his cock without the barrier of fabric, firmly yet carefully pressing around him and finally providing friction, it's like a lightning bolt arcs up Sephiroth's back. It curves him up and forward, jarring something approaching a pleasured gasp right out of him. He's so unbearably touch-starved, he's surprised and almost embarrassed by the way he's reacting-- his self-control has all but melted away. The sensation - and the reminder that it's Angeal providing it - is enough to make his world spin. And yet, he's razor focused. So much so that his slitted pupils flare out wide, certainly not unlike a cat whose just laid its eyes on something it wants.
He almost doesn't hear what Angeal says next, the way his heart pounds vibrantly in his ears, and it takes him a moment to recalibrate himself and find a coherent stream of thought.
...Right. He'd had a plan.
He lifts a hand and-- for half-second it flutters. He notices immediately, brows furrowed subtly, and stops the tremor with well-practiced control. It's a very fleeting thing - blink and you'll miss it - the way he almost looks annoyed with himself. But he doesn't linger on it, promptly moving that hand to cradle the back of Angeal's head, fingers threading easily through his raven hair. His other hand has shifted underneath Angeal's cock by now, more cupping it than anything. His voice is relatively measured when he finally finds the wherewithal to speak.]
Ah. I... was thinking-- [He's sinking down slowly now-- sliding so close that he has to move his face to the side of Angeal's, lips against his ear. It takes a little adjustment to find the right spot, but he eventually manages to slide the length of his cock against Angeal's, just enough that it makes his breath stutter a little. He adjusts his hand a bit to cradle them both.] --we could try it like this?
[But he, of course, stops there to await Angeal's answer. It seemed like a nice idea in his head, but that doesn't necessarily make it nice in practice, after all.]
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Partner. Watching his partner...
get lost for a moment or ten.
(This close, he can see the way his pupils change, and a part of him, a very, very quiet at this time part, does remark that he should have realized Sephiroth is not only human a long, long time ago.) (Then he realizes it doesn't matter. They are here now.)
His hand slows down somewhat, as Sephiroth makes an attempt to speak, then to move, and he adjusts accordingly ... letting his hand slide across Sephiroth's shoulders and hold him close, wrapping the warm palm around the opposite, powerful shoulder.
Sephiroth finishes the thought, the demonstration, the question, and Angeal loses his breath for another moment. Despite it being the most logical option, the fact that it is wanted by Sephiroth still, still is almost too much.
He shifts his hand so his fingers tangle with Sephiroth's, around their joined lengths, and squeezes, very gently. ]
I will very much like that, yes. [ A beat, and then, quieter, a little sheepish. ] Just let me know if it gets too dry for you?
[ ... not that he has anything actually useful. But he can, uh. Spit? That can help a tiny bit. For his part... he can work with dry. Over the last months and months, whenever he has indulged, it has been halfway mixed with punishing himself, so, uh. Sephiroth's comfort levels might be more relevant. ]
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[Dear gods, Angeal. If Sephiroth were privy to his thoughts, he might have actually barked a rare laugh and startled them both. But it's not like he has any room to judge. He doesn't exactly know what he's doing, and he fully intended on just Dealing With It. He is, after all, a weird mess of a man whose experience with human intimacy of any kind is close to negligible. Moreover, he knows he's not going to last much longer anyway. If this were going to be a slower, more drawn-out sort of endeavor, he might feel differently.
...Actually, now that they're intimately entangled like this, it occurs to Sephiroth that he doesn't actually know how to... proceed, exactly. He'd planned all the way up to this point, and it does feel good to be pinned together like this, but now-- hm.
He's probably thinking way too hard about the logistics - of who moves first and how much and so on - before he finally just gives up.] Feel free to take the lead. [Just in case Angeal feels comfortable enough to do so.
Otherwise, Sephiroth is going to try and experiment with his movements, albeit awkwardly, starting with the slow and curious roll of hips.]
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He wants to, just for a short little while, not feel entirely a failure.
He'll be the butt of jokes easily, after. Promise.
Besides, he blinks slightly at the ... request? Request, and smiles warmly, nodding, but also lets Sephiroth experiment-- oh. That slide, against his body and against his cock, is so good, and the sound he makes is a low rumble close to a purr, the hand on Sephiroth's shoulder caressing skin, trying to not catch on silvery strands. And, on the other side, he moves their joined hands up and down, and then twisting his wrist a little. Friction and pressure, and attention on how it works on Sephiroth.
... that said... ]
Want to... shift a bit?
[ ... meaning. Sideways, so they're properly stretched on the couch, and he leans a little that way. ]
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Well. It's a complicated mess of emotions. One that he'd rather not linger on too much if he can help it.
For the time being, he's glad to lose himself in this rush of heat and desire. His head dips a little lower until his face is faintly buried against the curve of Angeal's shoulder, where he's a little more willing to indulge in a muffled but pleasured sound or two as Angeal starts to find a little rhythm and friction with their movements. He's content to follow his lead, only making a small adjustment here and there until--]
--You want to move now? [If Sephiroth sounds a little exasperated-- well. He is, having been jarred out of his reverie a little. It would be more comfortable, true... but the way they're entangled makes movement a little difficult. It's not like Sephiroth has a tiny couch by any means, but it's not exactly the most spacious thing for two mountain-sized men to be rolling about on.
It's with a sigh that he relents.] As you wish. [But then he lifts his head until his mouth finds the stretch of exposed skin between the neckline of Angeal's shirt and his jaw, suckling a rough little kiss into his neck-- teeth and all. An affectionate warning to punctuate his next words:]
You best not let me fall off this couch, Angeal Hewley.
[And then he'll relinquish some of his weight into leaning with him. His fate is in your hands, Angeal. No pressure.]
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It'll get you better--
[ ... leverage, but his thought gets distracted by that sucking, which makes him groan loudly and buck up into their joint hands hard, eyes half rolling back. ]
Goddess, Sephiroth. That feels good.
[ Will it leave a mark? On a SOLDIER's body, probably less than usual, but they will get to those, too.
Then he smiles, softly, and tilts his face down to claim Sephiroth's lips for a long moment. ]
I won't let you fall, not ever, from now on.
[ And yes, that is a promise that goes beyond the couch.
His ... unoccupied arm wraps around Sephiroth's waist, and his wing shifts so he can hold Sephiroth from the other side, and tilts sideways until he can hook his foot on the edge of the couch, and then pushes himself until he's supine on it, with Sephiroth still on top of him. Leaving him the control, but with much easier ability to move. (They are, indeed, a little too large, both, to be comfortable to move on the couch lying sideways. Another time, elsewhere. Besides... he likes to feal Sephiroth's weight on top of himself, he wonders if Sephiroth will like the reverse, too.) ]
There. [ He turks his wing out of the way again. ] This should give you much better leverage.
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A thought he doesn't have long to mull over, as Angeal is moving in to kiss him. And it's not a short little peck-- it's a long and slow kiss that's easy to sink into. He's hesitant to part from it, but Angeal's assertion-- no, his promise is worth it. It's not lost on him, either-- how when they start to shift, Angeal moves his wing - a thing he has made it clear he abhors - to shield him from falling. It's a beautiful gesture above all else. How can Sephiroth not smile in turn?
Very nearly does he ask Angeal to let it stay-- to say that it feels like a second embrace from someone he loves. But he thinks better of it, worrying that it would be unwelcome and ruin the mood. Another time, perhaps...
He does his best to make the switch in position as graceful and easy as possible. It takes some adjustment-- to figure out how to adjust the weight on his knees so he doesn't simply crash full-bodied on top of Angeal. Which... would not be pleasant or attractive. His free hand eventually finds a place above Angeal's head, allowing him to further adjust and sink a little lower against him. Despite his earlier grumbling, it does indeed prove to be far more comfortable-- more pleasant to be stretched out atop Angeal properly. It feels good to let the weight of his hips rest more fully against their hands, and he takes a moment to simply enjoy the sensation of it-- to let it sink in that they're really here, half-naked and pleasuring one another on his couch. He first hums his approval and then:]
Very well. A point for you.
[And as if to reward him, Sephiroth dips his head to kiss him, only... because of his position, he soon finds his hair spilling over his shoulders and pooling around Angeal's neck and face. He'd be more annoyed by it, except he can't help but laugh - a soft yet rich little thing - at the string of complications they seem to be having. Because that, too, is beautiful in its own way. Imperfect and human.]
...Would you mind?
[He'd brush his hair out of the way himself, but he's not keen on detangling their hands, and his other hand is presently keeping him propped up, so... Help would be nice if Angeal is so inclined.]