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Commands

Looking back, Cloud was sure he should have realized sooner. But he also knew that hindsight was always crystal clear and sometimes it was easy to miss the obvious for far, far too long.

Sometimes, Sephiroth liked being told what to do. Not just in the basic pass-the-salt, don't-squeeze-the-toothpaste-in-the-middle way, but in other ways.

Get those pants off.

Hands and knees.

Suck.

For Cloud, it was a bit of a paradigm shift. He had never been a superior officer-- Learning was definitely a bit of a curve, though Sephiroth never complained about hesitation when it came time to give commands. He simply waited, watching with cool green cat's eyes for Cloud to compose himself.

Cloud never wanted to think about it too much. Because Sephiroth-- on his own had-- Maybe with orders to follow, he felt safer? Cloud didn't want to know.

Not when Sephiroth was stretching himself with his left hand, three fingers sliding in and out with obvious practice. His right hand was on his erection, stroking slowly, waiting as Cloud pulled off his layers of work clothing and tossed them on the floor.

Cloud knew he'd have to pick them up later. Sephiroth would protest and tease and he was a good soldier not a maid--

His fingers barely working as he fumbled with buckles and zippers, Cloud scrambled out of his leather and knits. His boots fought a good fight, but he got them off along with everything else.

He wanted to tell Sephiroth to suck on him, take him right to the edge. But he wanted more than a few thrusts in Sephiroth's ass, too. Somewhere between kisses and hands everywhere, Cloud asked if Sephiroth was ready for him.

As if there was any possibility otherwise.

Sephiroth never seemed to give up full control, though, Cloud couldn't help but notice. Not this time, not any time. By the time Cloud's erection was buried deep, Sephiroth was the one fucking himself on Cloud's body. Every arch and thrust and angle shift-- that was all Sephiroth, which was fine with Cloud. He could give the orders but when it came to this, to how Sephiroth needed it... It was best to simply give and take as directed.

They were absolutely a tangle by the time Sephiroth came, semen hot and sticky against Cloud and his hands and everywhere. Sephiroth tensed, too, and Cloud managed only a couple of token thrusts before his own orgasm. He cried out, shifting and moving shallowly until he felt so empty that he couldn't move.

Then he just looked up into Sephiroth's eyes and tried to find words-- some request or other, some praise, something... Cloud couldn't find them. Not yet. Sephiroth was patient, after all, and would wait.

Cloud would compose himself before long. They'd get cleaned up and Cloud would pick up the bedroom and talk about work and Sephiroth would listen and try not to make comments about any of Cloud's clients.

Someone would squeeze the toothpaste in the middle and blame the other. And they'd fall back into bed and begin anew.