Chapter Text
“Did you really think you could get away with touching yourself without me Cloud?” Cool air passes over Cloud’s parted lips as he attempts to grasp for control of his breathing. The silver general’s fingers move faster over his cock, faster, playing him like some kind of debased, naked instrument. In this dream world delirium, every note rings out perfectly.
“You answer only to me. You obey only me. You come only with my permission.”
His gasped response is barely audible, but he knows Sephiroth hears it.
“Please… I – I want -"
SLAP
Cloud’s head ricochets to the side, followed a split second later by a delayed stinging sensation that tips him over the edge and he comes with a broken off cry, his head tipped back to gaze adoringly into the laughing green eyes of his hero…
And awakens to reality with a groan at the mess he can feel drying in his pants.
Cloud will tell anyone that asks that yes, he is sleeping very well thank you, and is absolutely not having increasingly more debauched and erotic dreams in the 2 weeks since he ejaculated into a half drank, cold cup of coffee. It’s not at all like he’s becoming both increasingly paranoid and strangely exhilarated at the thought of being found out, of being punished and made an example of for all in Shinra HQ to see. Least of all by the singular focus of his obsession.
When Sephiroth passes close in the hallway the day after the “incident” as Cloud is now deeming it in his head, he almost seizes up in shame and fear as he salutes. Surely he knows, just from a look, even if he cant quite make true eye contact through the shitty regulation helmet. But the man’s eyes seem to pass over Cloud as if he is just one of the objects in the hallway.
Cloud almost jerks himself raw in the toilets later that day at the thought of being used as a human footrest for Sephiroth.
On the 15th day since his egregious coffee cup sin (but who’s counting?) Cloud volunteers for the dull post of guard duty outside one of the Shinra higher ups offices, purely so he can save energy for the marathon “alone time” he has planned for that evening. As he stands on guard, his mind races, darting between this and that but always settling back on Sephiroth. The cascading silver hair., the piercing eyes. The heavy leather boots he would love to squirm under like a bug caught beneath a cruel magnifying glass. He makes a soft, quiet whimper under his breath, eyes darting to each side before subtly adjusting himself through his pants. And all sensation in his face abruptly sinks to the pit of his stomach as Sephiroth rounds the corner and makes a bee line for the office, stopping directly in front of Cloud.
“Cadet. With me.”