Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Teaser: “ 'Bahamut's blood, Gen,' he'd say, giggling like some sort of school girl. 'Didn't you know that using the word 'anything' is a dominant's wet-dream of an opening?' ”
Inspiration: When VVKiti asked me to write her a fan-fiction a while ago (it's been a bit... >.<) and mentioned this pairing, I immediately knew what I wanted to do with it!
Technically, this is one of my commissions (*cough*), but it was also written in honor of VVKiti's birthday this year! Hope your day is terrific, hon~
Rating: M, because you can't spell 'dominant' without it!
-Partial to full nudity
-Some sexual content
Main Pairing: Larard Deusericus/Genesis Rhapsodos
-(past) Genesis Rhapsodos/Sephiroth
-Angeal Hewley/Cloud Strife
Setting: Crisis Core-ish, though I will probably just take the whole time-line/space-time-continuum thing into my own hands :wink:
POV: Genesis Rhapsodos, himself (First person perspective) and Tseng pops in for a moment or two~
Summary: Lazard declares Genesis' stamina to be lacking. Genesis, enraged, sets out to prove him wrong. Too bad he forgot exactly who he was dealing with...
Additional ANs: I've never written anything with Lazard before,and I've never written Genesis as such a prominent character! I hope I'm up for the challenge and don't end up embarrassing myself...
This story has been in progress for longer than I really care to admit. What I had was revamped and revised when I realized VVKiti's birthday was approaching so quickly. I have to say, I rushed to write this, so there may be a lot of errors, but I hope that the intention makes up for all of that! Surprisingly, I managed to write only slight smut!
Word Count: 2589 words for VVKiti's Birthday!
Standing outside of the office, I had the same distinct sensation that a child has when he's standing outside of the principal's office. Of course, I was no child but the Director of SOLDIER's office was more intimidating than the principal's office had ever been.
I was finally returning from a brief, simple mission in Banora –my home town– and despite the fact I had no idea exactly what time it was, I knew for a fact that I was quite late. The passage of time was something I rarely saw fit to mark, outside of things like missions, and since the mission had been successfully completed rather quickly, I had paid little heed to the time that passed while I rested underneath an apple tree and read “LOVELESS”. When I had realized my tardiness, I had rushed back to Midgar as fast as I could.
Now, here I stood, lingering nervously outside of Director Lazard Deusericus's office. Normally, tardiness wasn't that big of a deal to the director, but unfortunately for me, I was a least an hour late and tardiness had become a bad habit of mine lately. Well, surely returning late from three consecutive missions shouldn't earn the label of habit, but I knew that would be how the director would see it. Goddess knew there would be hell to pay.
Stop it, I ordered myself sternly. Such childish cowardice is not permitted of one beloved by the Goddess.
Though my hand trembled as I reached out and knocked lightly on the door, I contented myself with the knowledge that I had acted and therefore displaces and defeated the very youthful faintheartedness that I'd been fighting.
“Enter.” It was neither a greeting nor a request: it was an order. Being as that order had come from the director, I was obliged to obey, but I wasn't willing to stick my neck on the chopping block without being prepared. Cautiously, I stuck my head into his office, needing to see what his mood was so I could prepare.
His normally meticulously-styled hair seemed a bit rumpled, as though he'd run his hand through it thoroughly a time or two. The charcoal-stripped blazer he wore so habitually was draped haphazardly over the back of his chair and his glasses lay upon his desktop at an odd angle. His usual blue tie was askew and his shoulders seemed hunched forward.
Swallowing hard, I withdrew. Shit. I knew what he looked like angry –for a while, I'd treated making him angry as a game of sorts– and that was not anger. Goddess knew I could handle it if he were angry, but instead, he seemed disappointed, and that was always something a bit more sensitive to deal with. Hell, even as a child, I'd preferred to deal with my parents' anger over their disappointment.
“ 'There is no hate, only joy / For you are beloved by the goddess / Hero of the Dawn, Healer of Worlds'...” I murmured to myself, trying to sooth my own discomfort for a moment.
“Genesis?” he inquired, his tone sharp.
Fuck. I knew I should have muttered in my 'I'm in a boring meeting and Sephiroth will at least enjoy my commentary' volume. Still, ready or not, I had to go in now since he knew I was the one standing out here. Taking a deep breath, I tried to steel myself against the tongue-lashing I knew was to come as I straightened my clothes. With as much calm as I could muster, I pushed the door open and walked into his office.
It was with an incredibly absent wave of his hand that he directed me to take a seat across from him. His blue eyes were still busily perusing some piece of paperwork. I hoped it help no baring on my situation, but it was hard to tell whether it would or not. The director was a very busy man, after all.
When he finally looked up at me, he glared. The man was always, always gracious and courteous –even to his over-bearing bastard of a sperm donor and his younger half-brother. He reeked polite professionalism everywhere he went. That he actually glared at me told me that my situation was much, much worse than I'd feared.
“You,” Lazard ground out through clenched teeth, “are late. Over two hours late.”
Unbidden and uncontrollably, my eyes widened. Was I really that late? Had I lost that much time underneath that tree?
“I was about to send Angeal and Zack to look for you, since what seemed to be a simple mission had delayed a First Class SOLDIER for so long.”
My breathing hitched, but I forced myself to calm down. “I'm sorry, sir. I have no excuse. I'd finished the mission early and ended up exploring my favorite parts of my childhood home. When I realized I'd lost track of time, I hurried to return to Midgar as fast as possible.”
I hoped the response would pacify him. I mean, I had been incredibly polite, which even I could admit was rare, and what I’d told him wasn't exactly a lie: my favorite part of life in Banora had always been the apple orchards and I had rushed back to Midgar when I realized I'd lost track of the time.
“You should have called in, Genesis! I realized Banora is your home town and that you likely have memories to relive and people to visit, but please at least pretend you care about your duties!”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, bowing my head and waiting for the worst of it to be over. Shiva's teeth, I hated it when people were disappointed with me! “My apologies, sir. I won't allow such a thing to happen again.”
“You're damn right it won't! You took five hours to complete a mission you were allotted three hours to take care of. For such a disappointing lack of stamina, I'm demoting you two ranks and putting you in charge of the newest shipment of female cadets.
I should have registered that the rank he demoted me to was lower than Zackary's. I should have thought about the fact I got stuck with the least favorable duty ever allotted to a First Class SOLDIER. I should have noticed the curl of his lips as he spelled out my punishment. Instead, all I heard was the insult. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with my stamina,” I seethed darkly, rising to my feet as I glared at the blond man.
“Is there now?” he provoked. “How do you intend to prove that, soldier?”
“Name any task. If I outlast your expectations, I get to keep my rank. Deal?”
His smirk was nothing short of incredibly smug. “You have yourself a deal, soldier. Meet me back here in two hours and do not be late.”
I was sure that if Zackary ever became aware if my current situation, he'd laugh his tight little ass off.
“Bahamut's blood, Gen,” he'd say, giggling like some sort of a school girl. “Didn't you realize that using the word 'anything' is a dominant's wet-dream of an opening?”
If I'd thought about it, that fucking smirk should have told me something.
I'm sure he'd intended to shock me by tying my hands to the bedposts. He was actually fairly lucky he hadn't. The first man who'd tried to surprise me with a little bondage play had required extensive retrieval surgery. With gentle tugs, I tested the strength of his knots. They were tight enough, sure: they would have subdued a normal human, but I was enhanced and with my strength, I could have easily snapped the bindings.
Still, I played along: it was a game of submission, after all.
He'd stripped my torso bare before binding my arms, so I lay half-naked on the coverlet of the bed in his quarters and shivered at the frosty air the air conditioner was expelling. Gaia's tears, why had he tied me up directly below an air vent, anyway?
“Shall I warm you up?” he inquired, his tone lilting and provocative.
Empty sky, this seemed like a better idea when I was still mad at him!
“Name the terms, Deusericus,” I demanded, eyeing the blond man slowly.
“If you can go an hour of pleasure-torture without begging to be taken, you get to keep your rank.” He smiled like he was being reasonable with me.
Luckily for me, I was used to unreasonable demands in bed. Sephitoth had been rather fond of playing this sort of game with me, though he had also preferred to add a blindfold and a ball gag to the mix. I was glad that Lazard hadn't seen fit to blindfold me –not being able to see what was done to me made me all the more sensitive to each and every stimulation.
Being a bit of a player –Zackary much preferred to call me a "man-whore", but he was fucking my ex, so I really couldn't bring myself to care– came in handy sometimes. When Lazard's surprisingly warm and calloused hands touched me gently, I didn't even flinch. “When does my hour begin?” I asked rather forcefully. When I had just been allowing such bedroom games, one of my partners had manipulated the situation so I would lose no matter what. I would not allow that to happen here.
He smiled slightly. “Right about now,” he replied.
“And what constitutes my defeat: actual begging or any noise at all?” Hey, it was a game to him: I simply wanted a better explanation of the rules.
His warm, wet tongue swirled about my nipple and I bit back a sharp gasp. “Actual begging,” he answered. “I might even cancel the rest of your punishment if you make me beg instead before the hour is up.” His tone was wry –almost like he expected me to be capable of it. But that was ridiculous: why should I be capable of making him beg? It wasn't as though I could touch him or manipulate his body in the way he was manipulating mine.
When the realization dawned upon me, I wanted to laugh out loud. The bastard was attracted to me –and this was his version of making a move, obviously. Well, two could play this game, damn it!
In my mind, I recited my beloved poem to help me focus on something other than the rasping of his tongue against my skin, the warm trails he left behind that quickly cooled, or the teasing nip of his sharp teeth. 'When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end / The Goddess descends from the sky / Wings of light and dark spread afar / She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting...'
When his tongue lashed across my other nipple, I let out a low moan. “S-sorry,” I apologized, forcing the stutter into the faint tone. “No one has touched me since Sephiroth and I ended things...” Well, no one but myself, but in that respect, it didn't count. Though it was the truth, I also was figuring that admitting such a thing might help me manipulate him some.
He drew back and arched a brow. “I find that hard to believe, Genesis.” His voice was soft and tender as his fingertips sweeping along my jawline. “Such a beautiful man as you, alone for all those months?”
He couldn't have feelings for me, could he? Surprisingly, the notion wasn't as disturbing to me as it might have been. After all, the director was an attractive man, and it already seemed that he might have similar bedroom tastes as me. “Well, Angeal has his cute little cadet, Sephiroth and Zackary are together...” I trailed off. “Unlike him, I wasn't willing to jump head-first into a relationship so soon after ours ended and then I just... grew used to being alone.”
He didn't reply –instead, he traced a line down the center of my chest with his tongue, pausing to play along the edges of my navel. I gasped and mewled, my body shifting as though I couldn't decided if the sensation was weird or wonderful. Feeling his lips quirk into a smile against me skin, I resumed my mental recitation. Though I was trying to take my mind off of what he was doing to me, I still allowed my body to simply react. After all, I needed him intoxicated with lust and he definitely seemed the sort who enjoyed wringing each and every noise from his lover's lips.
When those hands carefully unbuckled my belt and unfassioned my pants, my attention jerked back to him. To my surprise, he placed a chaste kiss on my jutting hipbones before opening his mouth to speak. “ 'My friend, do you fly away now / To a world that abhors you and I? / All that awaits you is a somber morrow / No matter where the winds may blow.' “
I'm certain that my eyes widened. He knew “LOVELESS”, and he had quoted it so perfectly, his tone caressing each and every syllable with melodic cadence.
He kissed my navel as he worked my pants down my hips. There, he paused and looked directly at me, warmth and desire and something else swirling in his blue eyes. “ 'My friend, your desire / Is the bringer of life...' “
“ '...the gift of the goddess,” I finished softly, swallowing hard.
My favorite lines. How did he know my favorite lines? And to hear them quoted so seductively by a man who was taking so much pleasure in cultivating my desire! It was far more moving than any of the plays based off the poem, than any interpretation I'd ever heard or come to on my own.
He pressed a kiss to the proof of my desire and I cried out softly.
With a patient smile, he whispered, “ 'Even if the morrow is barren of promises / Nothing shall forestall my return...”
After that, I couldn't think clearly enough to remember the rest of the poem –let alone, my own name.
Director Deusericus touched Genesis's wrists rather tenderly, I noted, especially since the bruising was no longer there to see.
The pair wasn't exactly being discreet in the cafeteria, but they weren't being as blatant as Hewley and Strife could be a times.
I'd noticed some bruising on Genesis's wrists when I'd run into him late yesterday in the hallway down by the executive quarters. He'd looked a bit dishevelled –which was incredibly rare in and of itself, since the First Class SOLDIER prided himself on his appearance. All he'd said to me was “ 'There is no hate, only joy / For you are beloved by the goddess...' Good day, Turk Tseng.”
Even though all of the other things had been rare in and of themselves, this one took the cake. Genesis wasn't especially fond of the Turks –in fact, that was quite the understatement, considering his rather strenuous reaction when he'd sound out that Reno was friends with First Class Fair.
A smirk pulled across my lips. Genesis was always rather discreet about taking lovers, despite the sheer number he'd had, but the way he smiled at Lazard and the way that Lazard smiled back, his touch lingering on the red-head's unbruised wrists, I had no doubt: Genesis, at long last, had taken a lover. And Lazard, at long last, had finally gone after what he'd wanted for years.
Shiva almighty, it's about damn time.
Even if the morrow is barren of promises
Nothing shall forestall my return
To become the dew that quenches the land
To spare the sands, the seas, the skies I offer thee this silent sacrifice
~ "LOVELESS", Act V