In which Seph is insane
Nov. 29th, 2013 07:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pegunicentSydney strains against the leather straps, glaring murder. Sephiroth double checked that the bands weren't chafing or rubbing too hard on the soft skin. Sydney still preferred dresses, still wore his hair long and braided. He was so young, so pretty, if Sephiroth didn't know, couldn't *smell*, he wouldn't know it was a young man in front of him.
Lately Sydney had been driving him crazier than usual with his scent, the sweet softness of youth edging frequently with the bitter salt of arousal. In the mornings, at odd moments through the day, frequently before sleep Sydney reeked of sex and spent seed. Sephiroth had been careful, he'd been courteous when they were in Wutai, he always made sure to relieve himself far away from the child that he'd taken in. He knew how not to be a monster. But Sydney was no child, not any more. Now he was strong and smart, fighting to stand his own ground in this new world that promised to rip him apart if Sephiroth wasn't careful. He mocked Sephiroth's care, flaunted his scent, pushed Seph's buttons until it came to this.
Sydney was his. Kneeling on the bed, he made sure the buckles on the belts were tight. Then he moved down, nuzzling and petting at his boy. He could feel the anger under Sydney's skin, taste the frustration in his sweat and the tears that squeezed out from clenched eyes. Behind the Silence Sydney was screaming at him, Seph could feel it in the vibrations of his throat.
Following the smell of bitter musk he slid downwards, spreading thin legs and pushing ruffled skirts aside from his goal. Neither of them had ever been in the habit of under clothes, wetness staining leather and linen alike as they matured. Now, even angered, Sydney's body twisted at the lightest touch of Seph's hands, responding with sticky wetness and firm, blood filled muscle.
Sephiroth inhales the smell, tasting it so he can memorize the complex flavors. He has to hold slim hips down to the mattress, tight thigh muscles tremble and flutter under his palms. It doesn't take long for the seeping, weeping moisture to explode in a few short, hard pulses of bitter salt in his mouth. After he swallows he searches for more, more flavors and more ways to encourage them.
He tastes the tears at the corners of Sydney's eyes, the blood in his mouth where he's bitten through his lip, and then the dark, hidden funk of his sphincter. The more he covers Sydney, the more his own scent pervades the room, sheathing his boy in a blatant message of possession. The more he tastes and pins and takes the higher Sydney's arousal spirals, as though he dances to the rhythm of Sephiroth's hands and tongue. Sydney shatters around him, spread open and held Silent on Seph's mouth.
Sephiroth hears his breathing even out, his heart skip and then settle in easier beats after he comes again. Carefully, mindfully, he licks the mess away, ensures that Sydney is comfortable, then takes care of his own hardness with sure, hard strokes that splatter mako tainted semen over the sheets.
Even without sullying Sydney's dress, the boy smells of him, reeks of mako, magic, and Sephiroth. It's enough for now to set him at ease. He can go about his duties, go to the office and be sure that even if Sydney somehow escapes the apartment, every SOLDIER will know not to touch what is his.
For now, Sydney is safe.
Lately Sydney had been driving him crazier than usual with his scent, the sweet softness of youth edging frequently with the bitter salt of arousal. In the mornings, at odd moments through the day, frequently before sleep Sydney reeked of sex and spent seed. Sephiroth had been careful, he'd been courteous when they were in Wutai, he always made sure to relieve himself far away from the child that he'd taken in. He knew how not to be a monster. But Sydney was no child, not any more. Now he was strong and smart, fighting to stand his own ground in this new world that promised to rip him apart if Sephiroth wasn't careful. He mocked Sephiroth's care, flaunted his scent, pushed Seph's buttons until it came to this.
Sydney was his. Kneeling on the bed, he made sure the buckles on the belts were tight. Then he moved down, nuzzling and petting at his boy. He could feel the anger under Sydney's skin, taste the frustration in his sweat and the tears that squeezed out from clenched eyes. Behind the Silence Sydney was screaming at him, Seph could feel it in the vibrations of his throat.
Following the smell of bitter musk he slid downwards, spreading thin legs and pushing ruffled skirts aside from his goal. Neither of them had ever been in the habit of under clothes, wetness staining leather and linen alike as they matured. Now, even angered, Sydney's body twisted at the lightest touch of Seph's hands, responding with sticky wetness and firm, blood filled muscle.
Sephiroth inhales the smell, tasting it so he can memorize the complex flavors. He has to hold slim hips down to the mattress, tight thigh muscles tremble and flutter under his palms. It doesn't take long for the seeping, weeping moisture to explode in a few short, hard pulses of bitter salt in his mouth. After he swallows he searches for more, more flavors and more ways to encourage them.
He tastes the tears at the corners of Sydney's eyes, the blood in his mouth where he's bitten through his lip, and then the dark, hidden funk of his sphincter. The more he covers Sydney, the more his own scent pervades the room, sheathing his boy in a blatant message of possession. The more he tastes and pins and takes the higher Sydney's arousal spirals, as though he dances to the rhythm of Sephiroth's hands and tongue. Sydney shatters around him, spread open and held Silent on Seph's mouth.
Sephiroth hears his breathing even out, his heart skip and then settle in easier beats after he comes again. Carefully, mindfully, he licks the mess away, ensures that Sydney is comfortable, then takes care of his own hardness with sure, hard strokes that splatter mako tainted semen over the sheets.
Even without sullying Sydney's dress, the boy smells of him, reeks of mako, magic, and Sephiroth. It's enough for now to set him at ease. He can go about his duties, go to the office and be sure that even if Sydney somehow escapes the apartment, every SOLDIER will know not to touch what is his.
For now, Sydney is safe.
