Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit gained. This is a fanwork.
Summary: Perhaps it was one of those things that wasn't supposed to be questioned.
Notes: 15MinuteFiclet, keyword: 'Question'
Perhaps it was one of those things that wasn't supposed to be questioned. Questioning would only lead to doubt, and doubt was one of the many things Vincent didn't want to creep into his mind for a very long time.
He knew it was inevitable given what had just happened, but every second retaining the bliss that had washed over him was a second that somehow was clear from the sins of his past.
He pulled the blankets up to cover more of his body. The room wasn't exactly warm and even with the heat of the man beside him, the chill was slowly overtaking him. He assumed he'd been a bit sweaty as well, though somehow thoughts of sweat seemed out of place. Yet despite what his mind threatened to tell him, he hadn't just been with a china doll.
Yes, it seemed surreal, but it was the type of surreal feeling that didn't carry guilt or regret. It carried relief and possibilities, though that was yet another place Vincent didn't want his mind to wander. So far it had only been one encounter, one night. There was nothing to indicate that anything else would come of it.
Somewhere deep down inside, Vincent found himself actually staring down a sliver hope that wanted the last few hours to turn into something more. If nothing else, his body could handle it. Despite looking so angelic and harmless in sleep, the man beside him had been demanding and thorough, for lack of a better term. Vincent knew that even with the body he was trapped within, he would be sore for the next day.
His body... There hadn't even been a comment about it, save for murmurings about the smoothness of his skin. And Vincent knew those penetrating eyes had been on him the entire time.
And now his bedmate for the evening, maybe his bedmate for sometime longer, was sleeping gracefully to Vincent's left side, seemingly oblivious to the monsterous claw that Vincent had spent the first part of the evening trying to hide.
It was a wasted effort anyway - he knew full well that it was no secret and there was no way to keep it a secret, especially when all his other clothing was being pulled away.
He'd let lust overtake him, a feeling he'd though long buried and turned to dust by years of nightmares. But in the hands of another, he had stopped questioning.
There was a bit of dim light in the room, coming in through a space inbetween the dark curtains on one small window. It was just enough to help Vincent see the man beside him.
He found himself questioning everything as he watched his lover take the slow breaths of sleep. He found himself questioning how he'd ever ended up in such a situation. But Vincent didn't condemn himself. He had done that for much too long.
He reached over with his right hand to fix a few stray strands of silver hair that fell across his partner's face.
Vincent couldn't begin to find the questions. Perhaps that was why he had just let himself be led along. Sephiroth did seem to be able to do that to people.
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