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Forgetful

It wasn’t like him to be so forgetful. But yet for some reason there were things he just could not remember. Vincent had told him bits and pieces about leaving ShinRa and coming to live in the mountains of the north continent, but the rest was somewhat mysterious.

Part of him was also just a bit doubtful of the truth that Vincent was proclaiming. Still, there were few comforts these days and one of them was to have Vincent at his side, willing and quite near-happy about their current relationship.

There was just something perfectly broken about Vincent. It was frustratingly familiar but impossible to place. Licking down the line of Vincent’s stomach to the bit of hair that decorated his crotch, Sephiroth couldn’t help but wonder why he had lost so much time.

But, being prodded involuntarily by Vincent’s growing arousal, Sephiroth couldn’t really be bothered to keep pondering just how things had ended up the way that they had.

The clear fluid that gathered at the tip of Vincent’s arousal was sweet, tainted by Mako and just as addictive. Somehow Sephiroth knew that before they’d ventured into the territory of lovers, Vincent hadn’t known his body could even be so responsive.

It didn’t take long until Sephiroth found himself holding Vincent against the bed, swallowing a warm mouthful of semen and trying to see past his hair to Vincent’s angelic, flushed face.

Some things were just to be enjoyed.

And anyway, he really did find it sort of endearing when those shimmering metal fingers wound their way into his hair.