Archive of Our Own

Sephiroth remembered the first time he saw Genesis since his untimely departure from Shinra. The initial moment of sheer happiness before realizing that it was not Genesis, but a single creature that wore the face and skin of his best friend. The telltale scent of apples and leather did not linger in the air when it neared Sephiroth, nor did the sunkissed waters that filled his eyes with life shine; they were shrouded. Its movements were humanoid, clunky and uncoordinated. The creature assessed Sephiroth briefly before swinging its replicated sword gracelessly, but Sephiroth couldn’t move. He watched as the beast lunged towards him, and it sliced from his pectoral to his shoulder, enough to cut through the thick leather of his signature long coat.

He jumped backward to create distance between the creature, his free hand coddling the wound. Warm blood cascaded down his chest, but Sephiroth still couldn’t kill it. His brain sputtered, reaction training down the drain. It lunged again with its sword pointed to jab him, aiming for his solar plexus. Sephiroth felt time slow, the copy moving in slow motion. Die at the hand of this thing , or kill his best friend.

He chose life.

It was quick, a blink, and you’ll miss it type of moment. Sephiroth stepped to the side and severed the copy’s torso from its legs. It screamed. The voice of his best friend pierced the silence, and Sephiroth felt himself crumble. He gripped Masamune hard enough to blanch his knuckles and watched the copy fell silent, dissipating in a green haze before his eyes.

He felt a piece of his soul leave him.

—

It was a copy, Sephiroth learned, a new technology. Though Sephiroth could barely remember much else, including how he made it to his apartment tucked deep inside of Shinra. He remembers jumping into a helicopter, and a faceless Turk attempted to debrief him. Shock ran thick and left Sephiroth a dissociated shell; the Turk eventually left him be. It must have been odd. Shinra’s strongest SOLDIER reduced to something so human.

He didn’t even feel the usual eyes of SOLDIERs and infantrymen follow him as he walked through the winding halls of Shinra. Sephiroth then found himself inside his apartment, the half-attempted stoic façade deteriorating the moment the door clicked shut. He walked to his bed, stripping his clothes off as he went, not bothering to pick anything up, and simply left his prized gear to wrinkle on the floor. He sat on the side of his bed, eyes fixated on the bone-white walls.

Genesis. Angeal. His best friends. Gone.

The severity of the situation seemed to have finally caught up to him after weeks of denial, after that. That faint glimmer of hope that they’d return as though nothing had happened died inside of him. His friends had betrayed Shinra; they had no chance of returning now. Their only ticket back would be as science experiments, and seeing their bodies cut open and dissected would destroy Sephiroth.

His mind fell back to his time with Genesis and Angeal. He missed Angeal’s parental nature over Genesis and himself, and Genesis’ wittiness and his love of poetry. Sephiroth missed it all. The claws of loneliness had ripped into his skin before Sephiroth could barely process emotions, but it pierced him deeper now and left an ache deep inside of him.

He felt something warm and wet slide down his left cheek; he wiped it with his hand, holding it up to his face. A tear. He was crying. Sephiroth couldn’t remember the last time he cried. Another one fell down his right cheek, then his left again. They didn’t stop. He wanted them to; he felt weak and helpless for the first time since he was a little boy, hidden under Shinra's thumb. He felt like he was back in the mako tanks, drowning without dying, without being able to vent his pain. He promised himself long ago that he’d never allow himself to feel that helpless again, but here he sat, alone and abandoned by those he hoped he’d have for the rest of his life.

He let the tears fall but refused to make a sound in fear of someone listening. Sephiroth curled his knees to his chest, silver hair falling around him like a curtain. The leather of his pants felt cold against his bare chest. The action felt reminiscent of the times spent in a lab as Hojo poked and prodded every inch of him, protecting him with the only thing he could: his body. He was subjected to a vicious cycle of humiliation and trauma that followed him well into adulthood.

Anger, burgeoning sharp and fiery, was a dangerous emotion to haul when in possession of great power. It was directed at his creators, who allowed their toys to break. And Sephiroth knew he was only a successful experiment in the end.

Sephiroth let his emotions simmer, grief and sorrow amalgamating the labile anger. He refused to allow it to bubble over, fearful of the repercussions of allowing his heart to drive him instead of his head. He imagined Shinra scrambling to cover the atrocities committed in his act of revenge against them, depicting themselves as the victims. He knew he’d be painted as the villain here, just as they did with Genesis and Angeal.

Sephiroth didn’t know how long he remained like that. Only the disappearing sun gave notice to the change in time, and it had slipped below the horizon line when he felt himself come to. Hunger had rooted itself into his stomach, though it wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling. His appetite had dwindled into almost nothing in the past weeks, and he felt the juts of his hip bones sharpen. The soft rises and dips between each rib bone deepened, and his muscles shrank. Even Hojo, a man with little care for anyone’s wellbeing, showed concern during his last mako treatment the week prior.

Instead of getting up to eat something, anything, he moved to the center of his flimsy mattress and curled up. It was another sleepless night, but now with wet cheeks and a broken heart.

—

Weeks had passed, and Sephiroth continued to descend his spiral of depression and grief. He refused to seek help and allowed himself to fade. The light in his eyes had begun to dull, depicting his loss of life. He was still called to duty almost daily, mostly to control the Genesis copy infestation and to file paperwork. Most of them wore masks now, and he was thankful for them. At least he didn’t have to see their dying expression; at least it muffled their screams; at least he didn’t have to see the face of the man who betrayed and abandoned him. Sephiroth was a shell of himself, executing his given tasks and then returning home to stare at a wall or attempt to sleep. But it didn’t matter how much he slept, a perpetual, burgeoning exhaustion that waned his senses. Extinguishing the copies was becoming more arduous every day.

He didn’t know what he’d do if he saw an Angeal copy. Angeal hadn’t been reduced to something to kill on sight. His worth was still there, and Sephiroth prayed to the gods it would stay that way. Killing one of his only friends over and over again was arduous and heartbreaking enough.

When the sun blazed near red in the evening light, Sephiroth found him. Genesis in the flesh. A tar-black wing had sprouted on his left shoulder, his feathers trembling in the wind. A gradient of gray crowned his hair; his skin pallor and faded. His eyes, the ones Sephiroth could get lost in, were as dull as stone. He was reading one of his copies of LOVELESS, blade resting against the rock he was leaning against.

Sephiroth stared, keeping the flood of questions behind a dam in his head. “Genesis?” he asked with such a quietness, that it did not reach Genesis’ ears.

The man was deeply engrossed in his beloved copy of LOVELESS. Sephiroth could tell it was the same one he was given as a child: the yellowing pages, the frayed tips and scratches along the black leather cover and spine, and the gold-plated, rusted letters along the cover. Sephiroth remembered the book well. However, something seemed…off with Genesis. As Sephiroth watched, he noticed the deep furrow in Genesis’ brow and the way the book shook like a dying tree in a windstorm in his hand.

A careless snap of a twig beneath Sephiroth’s foot stirred Genesis from his book. His eyes narrowed at the sight of Sephiroth.

“Genesis…” Sepiroth handled each syllable with care, his love evident in his words.

“So you’ve found me. I figured you would, one day.” Genesis sighed, placing LOVELESS in an exactly sized pocket inside his garish leather coat. His fingers twitched for his blade.

“I was looking for the last of the copies in the area; I suppose I found the real one instead. Gen, what are you doing?”

“I was trying to read in silence, but you disturbed me.”

Sephiroth took note of the rigidness in Genesis’ voice, the stutter in it. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Genesis simply narrowed his eyes, almost assessing his friend, trying to find any reason to attack him. His right hand had fully grasped his blade now; his grip near bruising. It was rare to see Genesis contemplative; he was one to blurt the first thing that crossed his mind.

“I’m dying, Sephiroth. As is Angeal.”

Sephiroth felt his heart lurch at those words. He expected Genesis’ words to sting, not wrench him open.

“What?”

Genesis lowered his gaze, a frown washing over his lips. “Cell degradation. I don’t know much about it yet.”

“Is that why you left?”

“Yes.”

Sephiroth was quiet for a moment, piecing together his words. “Why don’t you come home? I know Shinra wouldn’t let you die.”

Genesis scoffed, “You really think Shinra would do that? They don’t care about me, isn’t my current status ‘shoot to kill’?”

“Genesis, please. I can’t lose you.”

“Are you trying to tell me you actually care for me? Now? You never showed it in our years of friendship. I felt like nothing but something to fuel your ego, Sephiroth. I was always lesser than you in Shinra’s eyes.” Genesis’ voice evened, laden in anger.

Sephiroth’s eyes widened, words scattered across his brain. He could barely form a coherent sentence. “That isn’t true.”

“How brainwashed are you?” Genesis laughed, whole and hearty. “I suppose it makes sense; you are their poster boy.” The look in his eyes was meant to hurt.

“Genesis, stop it.” A thorned, foreign pain coiled around his throat.

“Fight me.” The words came out suddenly, though delivered with emphasis.

“I will not.”

Genesis stood, his balance off-kilter. He ran his hand along the shaft of his blade; the signature glyphs appeared as he went, then he lunged towards Sephiroth with his blade ready to strike. Sephiroth summoned Masamune by the time Genesis reached him, the clash of their swords echoing throughout the clearing.

With their faces a mere few inches apart, Sephiroth could see the effects of the cell degradation. Genesis’ usual porcelain skin had diminished to something akin to peeling paint. Plush, rosy lips had faded, and cracks lined them. Any remnant of those bewitching blue eyes had completely dimmed. Sephiroth felt a pang in his heart. Genesis was hurting, it seemed.

“Are you in pain?”

Genesis’s face betrayed what words he wouldn’t say.

Sephiroth made a pained noise, “Genesis…”

“I don’t want your pity!” Genesis made a strange noise of pain and doubled over, his body seizing.

“Genesis!” Sephiroth yelled, franticness filling his movements. He reached over to Genesis to try to help, only for the man to flail to keep him away. His wing fluttered wildly, free feathers floating all around them.

Genesis suddenly stopped; he stood upright once more and locked his sword with Sephiroth’s. They stood for a moment, a power struggle developing once more.

Genesis dislodged his saber from Sephiroth’s and aimed for his heart with the tip. Sephiroth parried it, jumping backward. Genesis only closed the distance, their swords clattering once more. Their blades met in a fury of blows, and Sephiroth countered them all with his practiced ease, making no effort to go on the offensive. He would not fight Genesis.

“Fight me, damn it!”

“I will not! You’re ill.”Genesis summoned a fireball and lobbed it at Sephiroth, who sliced through it. “I will not fight you, Genesis. Not now, not ever.”

“You’re a coward. All you do is hide behind your reputation, but I see the sad, broken man you are. You’re nothing more than a science experiment.” Genesis flapped his wing once before taking to the skies, loose feathers raining down on Sephiroth.

Sephiroth watched as Genesis shrank into nothing more than a grain of sand in the distance, then disappeared into nothing. An inky feather drifted in front of his face, a gloved hand catching the delicate thing. He ran his thumb and index finger along its spine, hot tears rimming his eyes before dripping down.

Sephiroth tucked the feather into his pocket. He would spill tears over it later.

—

Another day killing Genesis copies was drawing to a close. Sephiroth waited in the deserted wilds outside of Midgar to be transported back to Shinra, a frown thick on his lips. These copies were not masked, and he was forced to see his face, graying and degrading.

After his encounter with the real Genesis, Sephiroth slipped further under. His words haunted him; he’d never seen such hate in Genesis. He was a petty man, yes, but never hateful. What happened to his Genesis? He was left to ponder that in every waking moment.

When a thick-tired car appeared on the horizon, Sephiroth sighed lightly and dismissed Masamune. The weapon dissipated from his hand as the driver stopped next to him, a cloud of dust trailing behind the vehicle, blowing into Sephiroth's face. He coughed and swatted the particles away and glared at the silhouette of the driver and walked to open the door. Cissnei.

"Hello,” she greeted. She was always one of Sephiroth's more favored Turks. She felt…human compared to the rest of them.

"Hi." He offered nothing more.

Once Sephiroth settled himself comfortably, Cissnei rotated the car around and drove off in the direction of the Shinra’s headquarters.

The silence was palpable, and though Sephiroth was used to and preferred silence, it felt odd with Cissnei. He stole second glances at the Turk. She looked tense: eyebrows furrowed, her knuckles were pallor as she gripped the steering wheel, lips quirked. She looked tense.

Sephiroth usually wouldn't be concerned about the emotions of others, but he cared for Cissnei just a little.

"Is something troubling you?" Sephiroth asks, eyes scanning the horizon line.

"Yes."

Sephiroth looked to Cissnei whose eyes were focused on the road. She didn't offer him her gaze. "You. You're what's bothering me."

Sephiroth blinked, unsure of how to proceed. "How so?" He asked after a thick moment of silence.

"You…you're not yourself. I don't like seeing you like this. You're losing weight, your eyebags almost look like bruises, and you just look…sad. I'm worried for you, Sephiroth."

"Oh." Sephiroth lowered his head.

Cissnei sighed, "Is this about Genesis and Angeal?"

"Yes."

Another silence passed between them, and Sephiroth wished he hadn't been born. He’d rather die than face confrontation about his emotions.

"I'm sorry." Cissnei broke the pause. “I know you guys were close.”

“We were.”

Though Sephiroth knew he should make no effort to find Genesis, he still wanted to see him. Perhaps it was for the sake of the past; perhaps it was just to have any contact with the man he cared for, regardless of the outcome, but their distance hurt Sephiroth. He thought of Cissnei and her capabilities, and what she could do for him. She had access to information and resources he did not. She could find Genesis for him, and Angeal for that matter.

“Cissnei?”

“Yes?”

“Could I ask a favor?” The words were foreign on his tongue. No, he was the great Sephiroth; he wouldn’t ask for help.

“Depends on the favor.”

“If any reports come in about the real Genesis or Angeal, could you tell me?”

Cissnei was quiet for a long minute, and Sephiroth desperately waited for her answer. She sighed. “You could get me in a lot of trouble for this. You’re only permitted to receive information about the copies, not the originals. Ya’ know, in case you turn on us too.” She pointed a dainty finger at Sephiroth to emphasize her point.

“I won’t abandon Shinra.”

She chuckled, “I’d hope not. And yes, I can. I would be sending an encrypted file of their spotted locations to your phone, but that’s the best I can do.”

“Thank you, Cissnei.”

“You’re welcome. I hope you get the closure you need.”

—

Most of Sephiroth’s time belonged to his cell phone now, jumping from every sound it made. Tunnel vision often formed from his staring, waiting for Cissnei to give a signal.

It was when the moon soared high in the sky when Sephiroth received a text from an unknown number a few weeks later. He wasn’t asleep, of course. Fatigue had been beaten into his bones now, and an easy task now felt akin to moving mountains. But a rush of energy flooded him upon seeing the message, and something reminiscent of hope brightened his heart. He opened it quickly, finding that Genesis, Angeal, or both were topside in Sector 8. He could get there quickly, if he borrowed a motorbike.

—

The stone-bricked streets and extravagant buildings of Sector 8 were a stark contrast to the steel walls and floors inside Shinra. Passerby strolled the streets, most of them with bright faces. Life seemed comfortable here. LOVELESS posters stole a space in almost every shop, home, and business. Sephiroth had the sneaking suspicion that he would find Genesis here.

The map Cissnei had sent him was simply a dot on a map of building silhouettes, so Sephiroth had cross-referenced it with a more detailed one. He discovered the building the map had pointed to was the theater house, where LOVELESS was playing. It wasn’t a far walk from where he parked his borrowed motorbike.

Sephiroth ignored the piercing stares and whispers of civilians as he passed them. After all, he made no attempt to disguise himself, clad in his signature outfit. He wound through the streets with his head buried in his phone, avoiding the gaze of people and ensuring his arrival would be a hasty one. He watched the moving blue dot that represented his current position with careful eyes; his heart beat loudly in his chest, enough to feel like it would rattle his ribcage.

”You have arrived at your destination,” The robotic voice told Sephiroth minutes of walking later. He stopped in his tracks. The theater's marquee hung far above the chipped sidewalk, and Sephiroth had to croon his head to see beyond it. An enormous depiction of the lead actor of LOVELESS was stretched across a curved billboard; LOVELESS was printed in white, bold letters beneath her.

Red.

Faded, and just a dot of it above the building, but it was enough. Sephiroth squinted, a clear view of Genesis sitting with his legs dangling over the roofline fading in. He was drinking. He inhaled a hefty sip from a half-drunk bottle of something before setting it down next to him. Genesis hadn’t noticed Sephiroth below. He glazed back to the theater to ensure it was open; the lights confirmed it was.

Something inside of Sephiroth snapped. Perhaps it was his heart finally breaking. That was all it took for him to race inside the building, flagging a theater attendant down to ask how to get to the roof. She was frightened by Sephiroth’s urgency and appeared to recognize him. It took her a moment to gather her bearings. “There’s a stairwell down the theater hall to the right. They’re behind 2 black double doors. That’ll take you right up to the roof.”

Sephiroth nodded before almost running to the given area. He burst through the doors and took 2 stairs at a time, feeling almost winded by the time he climbed all 6 flights. His arm felt weak as he reached for the steel handle of the door. Could he really face Genesis again? After what he said? Would he be mad to see him again? Thoughts stampeded in his head, all doubt and insecurity. Then he sighed, grounding himself before a shaky arm pulled the knob down. A chilled gust of wind battered across his cheeks when the door opened, and the city ambiance settled in his ears. Genesis turned his head at the loud sound of the door opening.

“Hello,” he offered, far kinder than what Sephiroth received previously.

“Hi,” Sephiroth returned, closing the gap between himself and Genesis. He leaned against the cement barrier and knit his fingers together. Genesis’ gaze remained forward, though a slight smile graced his lips. He looked greyer, stonish. He also looked at peace, as though he’d accepted his death.

They sat in silence for a while, though Sephiroth fought back the urge to ask a thousand questions. “What are you doing up here?” One managed to slip past him.

“Enjoying my time; I am a dying man, you know.”

Sephiroth sighed at that, a frown weighing down his lips. “Genesis…”

“My friend, do you fly away now?
To a world that abhors you and I?
All that awaits you…”

Genesis stopped, his words twisting on his tongue.

“Is a somber morrow.
No matter where the winds may blow.”

Sephiroth remembered; he’d never forgotten it.

“LOVELESS, Act III,” Genesis said; he finally offered Sephiroth his gaze.

Sephiroth simply nodded, his frown twisting up into a light smile.

“I’m forgetting things now.”

Sephiroth hummed thoughtfully, “Cell degradation?”

“Yeah. But the third act of LOVELESS can apply to you now. Why do you continue to follow Shinra? They’ve caused you nothing but pain. Pain you don’t deserve.”

“That's all I know.” It was the truth; it was all Sephiroth knew. He was born into it, raised on mako and vital regulators. Pain was something he was well acquainted with, something he almost felt he deserved. Sephiroth wasn’t a man worthy of love. Who could love him? He was designed to kill.

“You’re trapping yourself, release your chains already.”

“Are you trying to convince me to desert Shinra?”

“Perhaps.”

“I can’t.” Sephiroth shook his head.

“But you can.”

Sephiroth lowered his head, still shaking it. He wanted to be with Genesis but only like the old times. Destroying sparring rooms in the heated fury of battle, Genesis stealing treats from the kitchens for Sephiroth when he was hauled up in Hojo’s labs. He wanted the old times back, he realized.

“I miss the old times,” Sephiroth decided aloud.

“Me too.”

Sephiroth felt the tell-tale wetness brimming in his eyes. He sniffed and quickly wiped his eyes, not wanting to cry in front of one of his closest friends. But a gloved finger poked beneath his chin, lifting Sephiroth’s head up and towards Genesis. Fresh tears slipped down his face. Genesis regarded him thoughtfully.

“You cannot recreate the past, but you can create your future, Sephiroth.”

Sephiroth laughed lightly through his tears, “You always know just what to say, don’t you.”

Genesis smiled, light and airy. He didn’t let go of Sephiroth’s chin, only pulled him closer. “Have I ever told you how much I love your eyes?”

“No.” Sephiroth felt his heart flutter.

“They remind me of chrysoprases. Like someone carved 2 perfect gems and stuck them in your eyes.”

Sephiroth would have joked about that statement’s morbid tone, but he smiled instead, almost dazed at Genesis’ sudden flattery.

Genesis and Sephiroth’s eyes met again, something strange forming between them. Sephiroth leaned forward, closing the distance slowly. Genesis didn’t move.

They kissed.

Both of their eyes fluttered closed. It was soft, and the most comfortable Sephiroth had felt in months. Genesis’ lips disappeared from Sephiroth a few moments later, and he was gone by the time Sephiroth opened his eyes. Once again, gray-black feathers rained from the sky.

Sephiroth looked to the sky thoughtfully, a rare smile gracing his lips, eyes near glimmering. Something pleasant radiated throughout his chest, and it felt like the pieces of his shattered heart were binding themselves back together.

Sephiroth never would have thought he was in love with his best friend.

—

Sephiroth could eat again. He enjoyed food; he enjoyed cooking. Gradually, he gained his signature physique that he knew garnered plenty of fans in his club.

He felt better. Just a bit.

It seems Genesis cured him with his words, perhaps his kiss like in one of the fairytales Genesis read to Sephiroth when they were younger.

A calm had set over Shinra. Genesis nor his copies had made any appearances since that night. Sephiroth’s duties had diminished to paperwork, though he couldn’t complain. Usually, he’d prefer being out in the field anytime, but it’s one less Genesis he had to witness die.

The night was a brisk one, but Sephiroth left the windows and balcony door open for the chill to prickle his skin. It kept him awake. He’d been given an unfairly large stack of paperwork that was due in the morning, per the president’s orders. His eyes skimmed the pages thoughtlessly, brain barely processing what was in front of him. He simply signed his name on the line, sorted the sheet, and moved on.

Too many hours had passed, and Sephiroth’s mountain of paperwork had only lessened by half. A breathy sigh left his lips, and he tucked a stray silver lock behind his ear. His eyelids felt like weights; his head was practically swimming. Sephiroth could have sworn he was seeing shadowed black figures in his peripheral vision.

He has stopped at some point, closing his eyes for what he told himself would be a small break.

The flap of wings registered in Sephiroth’s ears.

He jolted awake, eyes looking right to the balcony of his home office.

“Genesis!” Sephiroth said a bit too loud. He rushed from his desk to outside on the balcony.

He laughed softly, “I found you this time.” Genesis’ hair had bleached; white replaced the stonish gray. It almost blended in with his skin.

Sephiroth simply stared in awe. Despite Genesis’ graying appearance, it felt as though he was radiating with light. “Yes.” He was too dazed and tired to say anything else.

“I’ve come because I need your help.”

Sephiroth shook his head lightly, silver hair shaking with his movements. “With what?” He mentally dismissed the concern for Genesis infiltrating Shinra, and how dangerous it could be for him, especially since they were outside in plain sight.

“I’ve found a way to cure cell degradation.”

The words felt like being doused in ice water, and Sephiroth’s fatigue and shock slipped away. He curled an eyebrow, waiting for Genesis to continue.

“I need your blood or something with DNA from you. Your cells…they’re special. The experiments you were a part of as a child make you special, Sephiroth.” Sephiroth liked the way Genesis said his name, carried with care. It took a moment to process the rest of Genesis’ words.

“I see…” Sephiroth pondered. He wanted to know more but decided that was not the correct time; this was about Genesis. “There’s a syringe in my first aid kit; I’ll go get it. We can do a blood transfusion.” Sephiroth rushed off to this bathroom, quick to pull open the cabinet containing his first aid kit. Its contents sprinkled across the floor and counter as he dug through the container to find the needle. It was a tiny thing, not really meant to give blood, but it was better than any other method Sephiroth could think of.

He undid the safety packaging as he walked back to his office. Genesis had thankfully come inside and closed the door behind him.

“That’s a hefty amount of paperwork, have you been deduced to being a secretary?” Genesis tapped the stack with his pointer finger. His tone was casual despite the situation.

“Well, you’ve been causing less trouble with your copies lately, so there’s not much work to do.”

“I can always create some work if you need it.”

Sephiroth smiled lightly, “I’ll stick to paperwork.” He moved closer to Genesis, “I need you to take off your coat and gloves.”

“Okay.” Genesis shrugged off his coat and gloves and draped them over Sephiroth’s office desk chair. He still wore the uniform of SOLDIER. Sephiroth took in the sight of Genesis’ toned arms. He’d never noticed Genesis’ physique before, how slender he was. Sephiroth’s eyes raked up and down his form, ingesting every detail he could.

Sephiroth realized he’d been staring. “Sorry,” He cleared his throat and rolled up the right sleeve of his black sweater. It had been a while since he’d put on plain clothes. He liked the feeling of sweaters, he found. Sephiroth kneaded the skin above his median cubital vein, prompting the vein to swell. He was quick with the needle, ignoring the pinch, and collected the blood. “I know this isn’t sanitary, but it’s the best I can do.”

Genesis scoffed lightheartedly, “I’ll risk a disease over dying.” He offered his wrist.

Sephiroth kneaded above the vein and looked to Genesis, “are you ready?”

Genesis simply nodded, eyes fixated on the needle.

Sephiroth inserted it and pumped his blood inside.

The effects were instant.

Genesis fell forward, grabbing on Sephiroth as he almost seized in his arms. Genesis’ grip was near bruising, but Sephiroth let him cling to him. Pain sounds and pants filled the room, and Genesis’ had gone lax against Sephiroth. He lowered them to the floor slowly, Genesis practically on top of Sephiroth. Sephiroth’s hand went to cradle the back of Genesis’ head, stroking the once soft locks.

The stark white slowly morphed into the brilliant auburn Sephiroth was accustomed to, and his pained sounds and breath began to soften.

“Are you ok?” Sephiroth peeled back lightly to look at Genesis.

Genesis nodded, his hands going to feel his face and hair. He breathed a sigh of relief and looked to Sephiroth. Those pelagic eyes had returned, as did the soft rosiness that dabbled his cheeks. His wing fluttered in delight, and he laughed that soft, delicate laugh that Sephiroth had grown to love.

Their gaze fell into one another, and the world stopped spinning.

Their lips met again, and Genesis’ were so soft. His wing curled around Sephiroth, pushing him closer. They melted beneath each other’s touch: Sephiroth’s hands curled in Genesis’ hair and the base of his neck, Genesis wrapped his arms around Sephiroth, pulling their chests together. Their heads moved in their kisses, and an urgency arose. Soft movements became more frantic, and hands wandered and caressed one another. Genesis’ tongue licked the seam of Sephiroth’s inner lip, silently asking for permission. Sephiroth was almost startled by it but eased back into the rhythm as Genesis guided him.

Sephiroth was by no means a virgin, though his times laying with another were emotionless. He simply went through the movements and nothing more. It had mostly been Shinra infantry and fans who offered themselves up on a platter for Sephiroth’s taking, and sex almost always left a guilty and bitter aftertaste in his mouth. They used him to satisfy their fantasies, and he used them to get some relief. He’d never kissed any of his bed partners; his conscience wouldn’t allow for it.

Genesis’s hands snaked beneath Sephiroth’s sweater, his cold hands sending pleasure-tinged chills down Sephiroth’s spine. He groaned into the kiss, and Genesis slipped deeper inside Sephiroth’s mouth. It almost felt like Genesis was devouring him so softly. His head swam, and not from the fatigue. He’d never experienced pleasure like this: warm, genuine, and personal. Genesis wasn’t a fan; he was a friend, a lover now.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Genesis whispered into Sephiroth’s mouth.

Sephiroth peeled back just far enough for their lips to touch as he spoke. “You have?”

“Yes, you big idiot. I’ve always loved you, ever since we were kids. I don’t know how you haven’t picked up on that yet.” Genesis laughed and kissed Sephiroth’s chin.

The idea of being loved was such a strange and foreign concept in Sephiroth’s mind. How could anyone love him? As flawed as he was and is. But the way butterflies tickled the edges of his stomach; he supposed it wasn’t a bad thing. “I suppose I’m oblivious to certain things,” he said.

“Yes, you are.” Genesis kissed a gentle line down Sephiroth’s jaw. Sephiroth suddenly felt Genesis’ hands pushing back on the line of his shoulders, pushing him to lay flat on the floor. He straddled Sephiroth, their growing erections brushing against one another between their clothes. His hands went up Sephiroth’s sweater, pushing it above his chest. “Take this off.”

Sephiroth obliged, sitting up slightly before taking off his sweater, leaving it to sit rumpled next to him. The floor was cold against his back, and goose bumps prickled his skin.

“You’ve lost weight,” Genesis commented.

“I know.” There was a frown on Sephiroth’s lips.

“Why?”

“You…”

“Me?”

“You broke my heart back there, Genesis.”

Genesis paused in thought. “Have you ever heard of Kintsugi?” he said after a minute of silence.

“No.”

“It’s from an ancient, lost culture. They mended their broken ceramics with gold. The cracks would be illuminated, but it creates something new and beautiful. I may have broken you, but we can create something new. Together.”

Sephiroth laughed and draped a wrist over his face. “That was really sappy.”

“It was not!”

“Yes, it was.”

“I’m trying to make you feel better.”

“An apology would go a long way, Genesis.”

Genesis paused, looking like a deer in headlights.

“I-I’m sorry. I was angry, angry at the world, and Shinra for failing me. Your loyalty aggravated me, but I understand now. I miss Shinra, in a fucked up kind of way.”

Genesis paused again, and a small smile graced his face.

“ My friend, the fates are cruel
There are no dreams, no honor remains
The arrow has left the bow of the goddess
My soul, corrupted by vengeance
Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey. ”

“Are you really quoting LOVELESS when we’re about to have sex?”

Genesis laughed with his whole chest, “yes.”

Sephiroth covered his face with both his hands and sighed, despite the laugh he suppressed. Genesis pried Sephiroth’s hands away from his face and kissed him. Genesis pressed Sephiroth’s hands to the floor, holding them down with his own. Their kiss was soft and tantalizing until Genesis ground his hips against Sephiroth’s, and he then realized how hard he was. It almost hurt. He moaned into Genesis’ mouth and bit Genesis’ lower lip.

Genesis let go of Sephiroth’s hands and slid his own up and down Sephiroth’s chest. Pleasure shot up his spine, and he moaned softly, earning a soft smile from Genesis.

“You don’t have to do all the work, you know.” Sephiroth’s voice was gruff, lower than he expected.

“But I want to.” Genesis’s tongue ghosted over Sephiroth’s nipple to end their conversation.

Sephiroth keened; the wet warmth was a stark contrast from the cold air still circulating around the room, and the floor he was lying on. “Gen…” He groaned out.

“Good,” Genesis purred.

Something akin to crackling electricity erupted beneath Sephiroth’s skin at that. Genesis seemed to notice Sephiroth’s reaction and laughed lowly.

Genesis planted a line of kisses down the center of Sephiroth’s chest, fingers trailing over every rise and fall of ribs, and the slight sunkenness of his stomach. An unconscious disheartened look crossed Genesis’ face. Sephiroth chose not to comment, but he wished he knew what Genesis was thinking.

“Before we get really into it, can we move to my bed? This floor isn’t the most comfortable.”

Genesis paused, “Yeah,” was all he offered. He peeled himself from Sephiroth and stood, offering a hand to him. Sephiroth took it and rose, but Genesis didn’t let go of his hand. Instead, he led Sephiroth to his bedroom.

“It’s quite interesting that my guest is leading me to my own room,” Sephiroth commented with a chuckle.

Genesis scoffed as he walked into Sephiroth’s room, “I’ve been coming to your apartment since you got it, Sephiroth.”

“Fair enough.” Sephiroth sat on the edge of his bed, allowing Genesis to sit on his lap. He pulled Genesis’ sweater above up, allowing Genesis to slide it up and off his wing. He shucked it to the floor and collided his now-bare chest with Sephiroth’s, slightly pushing him back. Startled by the movement, Sephiroth’s hands flew to Genesis’ back and clawed at the base of his wing. The appendage flapped wildly as Genesis let out a hiss.

“Sorry,” Sephiroth whispered and went to rub the base of the wing.

Genesis moaned loudly as Sephiroth’s fingertips drew shapes on the boney coracoid. “Keep doing that.” His forehead fell against Sephiroth’s shoulder, nails riving red lines down the expanse of his back.

Sephiroth obliged; he ran his fingers along the curved line of the wing then settled for rubbing the base of the plumes. The appendage fluttered lightly against Sephiroth’s digits, showcasing its feelings. Genesis let out satisfied sounds as Sephiroth moved between each feather and curled his fingers into Sephiroth’s skin like a cat. Sephiroth returned to the base of Genesis’ coracoid and massaged the flesh softly, eventually coming to stop.

“Feel good?” Sephiroth asked.

“Mhmm,” Genesis murmured against Sephiroth’s shoulder, voice laden in bliss.

Sephiroth turned and kissed Genesis’ head, flattening the flyaways and discordant chunks of hair with his palm. “Do you want to continue?”

Genesis peeled away from Sephiroth’s shoulder, “My dick is throbbing, Sephiroth, yes.”

Sephiroth snorted and pecked Genesis’ lips once. “There’s lube in the nightstand.”

“Oh, you’re making me get it? How rude, I’m your guest.” He said it without bite, teeth showing in a light smile.

“You’re sitting on me. I can’t get it unless you get up.”

Genesis sighed, “fine.” He stood and went to rummage for said lube, returning promptly. Before returning to Sephiroth’s lap, he peeled his leather pants from his legs, cock springing free. It was well-fitted for Genesis.

“You’re staring again.”

Sephiroth shook his head lightly, “sorry,” he mumbled while scratching the back of his head.

“I get it; I’m beautiful.”

“You are so full of yourself.”

“Are you telling me I’m ugly?”

“N-no.”

“Good, now take your pants off.”

Sephiroth stood and did as he was told, slipping out of his tight black jeans and underwear. He pulled Genesis in for a kiss, their bare dicks rubbing together for the first time. The friction sent pleasure to pool in Sephiroth’s stomach. Their lips met again and again until there was no air in their lungs. They panted against each other’s mouths; their eyes drilled into one another’s.

A wicked smile crossed Genesis’ visage; then he pushed Sephiroth onto the bed. He straddled Sephiroth and ground down his hips, their moans spilling into the room. Genesis brought Sephiroth’s hand to his mouth and eyed the details of his hands. “You have pretty hands,” he whispered. He ran his fingers along the scape of them, the soft words melting Sephiroth where he lay. A slight blush dusted his cheeks.

Genesis locked his gaze with Sephiroth’s, and he took Sephiroth’s fingers into his mouth, swallowing to the hilt. Genesis’ tongue swirled over the digits and over the finger pads. He sucked lightly; their gaze still fixated on one another. Pleasure crackled down Sephiroth’s spine, a shiver racking his whole body. The corners of Genesis’ eyes held a smile; he seemed pleased with Sephiroth’s reaction.

Genesis gently gripped Sephiroth’s wrist, removing his fingers from his mouth. A lewd ‘pop’ sounded between them, and a string of saliva connected them together. “Finger me,” Genesis whispered, voice laden in desire. He raised his hips, the need so clear in his eyes.

Sephiroth uncapped the lube bottle and smeared some on his fingers, intermixing the saliva with the cold substance. He sat up and wrapped his free arm around Genesis to hold him close. His fingers teased the ring of muscle, circling it. Genesis sighed and bucked downward in an attempt to get Sephiroth inside of him. “Hurry, please.”

Sephiroth slipped a single finger inside and massaged Genesis’ walls. Genesis began to fuck himself down on Sephiroth’s finger, desperate to chase his own high. Sephiroth simply allowed his lover to do the work, feeling the warmth of his lover over his fingers.

He slipped in a second finger, and Genesis keened. His head bowed against Sephiroth’s shoulder, teeth teasing his skin. Genesis’ wing fluttered along with his movements, almost as if to vent his pleasure. Sephiroth loved the slight wind on his face to cool his sweat.

“Sephiroth!” Genesis mewled and tossed his head back.

Sephiroth kissed Genesis’ collarbones as a response, teasing a hickey into his skin. He slipped a third finger inside and curled them. Genesis nearly screamed. “Do that again,” he whispered. He stilled as Sephiroth massaged a spongy part inside of him. Genesis morphed into a moaning mess, nails riving the flesh of Sephiroth’s arms. Sephiroth hissed but didn’t mind it, and continued on.

“I’m gonna…” Genesis trailed.

Sephiroth stopped.

“Why?”

“I want you to cum when I’m inside of you.”

Genesis laughed lightly through his heavy breath, “I see. Get on with it then.”

“Alright.” Sephiroth grabbed the lube bottle again, pouring some of the substance onto his fingers before slicking his dick up. He felt Genesis’ eyes on him as he moved to position himself below Genesis’ hole. “Ready.”

“Yes, please, just hurry up.”

Sephiroth chuckled at Genesis’ impatience and slid inside.

“Fuck,” Genesis moaned before beginning to move in a circular motion.

Sephiroth gripped Genesis’s hips to help him through the movements. Something bloomed inside of him that he’d never felt before: true, weightless pleasure. It felt so strange having no guilt with his partners, that Genesis truly wanted this and showed it. He couldn’t help it as small noises escaped his lips as Genesis moved.

Genesis moved with so much fervor that his hips began to shake. He was breathless and looked absolutely stunning as his head tilted backward. He left his hickey-laden neck exposed for Sephiroth to dot more.

Sephiroth bit into Genesis’s shoulder hard enough to draw blood, and Genesis mewled, his fingers further curling into Sephiroth’s arms. He kissed the wound apologetically and lapped the beads of blood.

Genesis halted unexpectedly, his head flopping forward to Sephiroth’s shoulder once more. His breathing was ragged, chest heaving up and down. “It seems I still haven’t recovered my full strength.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, Genesis. I’ll do the rest.” Sephiroth snapped his hips up, and Genesis nearly lost his balance.

“Harder,” Genesis groaned.

That was all it took for Sephiroth to pound into him. His grip on Genesis’ hips became iron, nails waxing crescents into the plushy skin. His hips began to burn from his thrusts, and Genesis’ moans morphed into something more primal. Sephiroth felt as Genesis wrapped his arms around him, he pushed hard enough to nearly crack Sephiroth’s bones.

“Gen, you feel so good.”

“Keep going; I’m so close.”

Sephiroth felt his own orgasm brewing, something electric. Pleasure snaked throughout his body and pooled in his stomach, ready to burst soon.

A singular cry from Genesis made Sephiroth topple over the edge. He pushed himself deep inside Genesis and let himself go. Electricity crackled beneath his skin as he orgasmed, flashing out to every nerve in his body. He groaned through it all, eyes squeezing shut. Whatever he just experienced was the best feeling he’d ever felt.

Once the fog cleared from Sephiroth’s head, he grabbed Genesis’ dick and stroked him as he continued to thrust inside of him.

“Please!” Gen yelled as he came, cum painting stripes across Sephiroth’s torso. He fucked him through it until Genesis’s moans of pleasure morphed into pained whimpers.

Sephiroth collapsed backward, taking Genesis with him. His wing flapped to display his surprise but draped over Sephiroth.

They lay in silence, long enough for their ragged panting to soften into even breaths. Genesis’ wing felt warm against Sephiroth’s skin. Safe. He felt loved.

“Sephiroth?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you get us a towel?”

“If you get off of me.”

Genesis removed himself from Sephiroth, both cringing at the half-dry cum peeling from their skin. Sephiroth swiftly walked to his bathroom, wiping the fluids from his torso, and tossed it to the corner. He returned with a second towel and stopped before Genesis, who was leaning back on his hands with his eyes closed. How could someone be as pretty as him? With his flushed cheeks and glistening skin, he looked celestial.

Genesis opened one eye and smiled with a scoff, “you’re staring again.”

“I know. You look pretty.”

Genesis laughed lightly, laid back, and closed his eyes; careful to avoid crushing his wing.

Sephiroth took the invitation to clean Genesis. He treated Genesis as though he would shatter on him if he pressed too hard and committed every centimeter of him to memory. Sephiroth wanted to remember this night.

“Genesis?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Genesis pulled Sephiroth down for a kiss. “I love you too.”

Genesis pulled Sephiroth to lay next to him, his wing once more draping over Sephiroth. It felt strange to Sephiroth, feeling the warmth of another with the same warmth inside of him. There was no bitter aftertaste, just…love.

Sephiroth didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, if he would leave Shinra with Genesis, or if Genesis would return home. He questioned if he’d even be alive when the sun set tomorrow, but that was tomorrow’s problem. For now, he’d revel in Genesis’ arms, and for the first time, he slept with a smile on his face.