Next Round (4/7)

Vincent remained quiet. Sephiroth had gained at least enough strength to remain seated for more than a few minutes at a time, but that just made everything all the more creepy.

He stared blankly ahead, eyes not moving from that one point on the wall that must have been extremely interesting as he hadn’t grown tired of it yet.

There was a lot to digest now, even for the war hero. He had a hard time accepting he’d lost his mind the very night after he and Vincent had met. He had an even harder time accepting it had been so many years ago.

And he simply could not digest the fact that his lover, a mediocre soldier and an ex-miner had actually managed to kill him.

Talk about big ego.

Eventually, he managed to blink. Slowly at first, then it was as though someone had pushed the play button and the speed returned to normal. He slowly turned his head to Vincent. “More than six years,” he said. It was no question, just a blank statement, a fact.

Vincent simply nodded then felt his hand travelling to Sephiroth’s, fingers entwining. He didn’t stop it; quite the contrary. He even managed to relax his head on Sephiroth’s shoulder, not daring putting its weight on the other yet.

He closed his eyes and just enjoyed the touch, still not believing when his inner voice repeated the name. Then he felt a hand travelling up his spine slowly, gently until it reached the back of his head. That touch made his heart skip a beat then double its pace to compensate.

“Seven years,” Sephiroth continued, rolling his head so it rested on Vincent’s forehead and scalp. His breathing deepened and Vincent’s heart reacted the same way as to the touch.

The other started nudging him with his head, pulling it up, forcing eye contact. And all the time those fingers kept on holding Vincent’s hair, pulling with more force each passing second.

“I will make it up to you,” Sephiroth continued, purring, teasing, promising, his lips spread into a little smirk. His strength was definitely returning.

Vincent just moaned, his entire body as hypersensitive as the last time. He found his nose lacking in fulfilling his body’s need for oxygen.

Then Sephiroth bit him. It wasn’t dangerous nor was it painful, but it wasn’t that much less – his teeth remained still and sharp on Vincent’s chin, making Vincent freeze on the spot, showing defeat. Not that there were any losers in this. Then he just collapsed, lips on lips, body on body, hands on hands as Sephiroth took control and just pushed him on the bed and himself on top.

It didn’t last long, though. Sephiroth was still weak and his arms started shaking; as much as Vincent loved , needed even, that heavy body on his, he had to settle for the change of roles and him on top of Sephiroth.

That wasn’t so bad; not when those still trembling hands squeezed the low of his back, pushed him lower; not when his own hands ended up tangled in the endlessly long hair; not as he felt teeth pulling his lower lip and him returning the gesture.

It was just the way it was supposed to be and his entire body responded to it.

Then the phone rang. It took him a moment to register it and, as much as his entire body fought against it, he pulled away.

Sephiroth just cocked his head. “Ignore it.”

Of course, if it were any other tune, he wouldn’t have even blinked before doing exactly that. But this was Reno. “I can’t… I must…” he said between breaths and slid off the sofa as well as the body on it.

“Reno?” he asked flipping the phone open, trying to control his breathing.

“Just callin’ to check if I can come or am I interrupting you and mister perfect over there.” Reno didn’t bother hiding the resentment in his voice.

Vincent cleared his throat afraid that, if he said something right now, his voice would break from the force his heart was pounding with. “Please, don’t do this… just,” he paused, sighing and trying to hide it, “come home. We need to talk.”

“Damn right, yo,” came the reply and the familiar click of the line breaking from the other side. Vincent flipped the phone off and, forgetting about Sephiroth for just a second, concentrated on some nonexistent spot on the bookshelf, numb.

“Reno?” he heard Sephiroth ask, voice serious. It brought him back to the present and he blinked a few times before turning to face him. Sephiroth pulled himself to a sitting position, lips pursed, eyebrow raised, genuinely intrigued. “The redhead I thought I saw this morning…”

Vincent nodded slightly, hating where this was going but more than aware of it needing to go there sooner or later.

“This might be just a coincidence,” the other eyebrow slowly slid up, “but I remember a certain redhead named Reno, and…” The corners of his lips quirked a bit as Vincent’s cheeks turned just half a shade redder. “A certain… interesting Turk,” both eyebrows moved even higher if that was possible, “with foul mouth, attention span of a fruit fly…” He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. Vincent was quiet, but his faced said everything. It was hard not to draw conclusions from it.

Sephiroth’s head fell to the pillow and he exhaled, while Vincent remained still as a statue, standing before him.

“How long?” Sephiroth asked, his eyes closed.

“A year,” Vincent stated blankly.

Sephiroth snorted, eyes still closed, lips now in a sarcastic smile, fingers of one hand on the bridge of his nose.

“I… I wish I could say I was sorry, but…”

“But, of course, you can’t,” Sephiroth interrupted, finally opening his eyes. “It wouldn’t be you if you regretted loving.”

Vincent just exhaled and blinked, taking his time before opening his eyes again.

“And you do love him, otherwise you wouldn’t be here now.” He shifted again, trying to find a comfortable position for his weak body. “And this is his place, isn’t it?” Vincent nodded. “And he’s on his way now.” Vincent nodded again and Sephiroth snorted, again. “Fucking idyllic.”

Vincent inhaled sharply, surprised by the reaction even though he tried his best to hide it. “This isn’t fair,” he whispered.

“Life isn’t fair,” Sephiroth responded, resigned even. “Nothing is ever fair, Vincent.” His eyes left Vincent’s, focused somewhere in the distance, a place visible only to his mind. “As soon as I’m able to walk, I shall leave.”

“No, I,” Vincent tried, shaking his head. He had no idea what he was supposed to say, though.

“Very well.” Sephiroth pursed his lips, smiling slightly, trying for eye contact. “Then it would only be fair that we both leave.”

Vincent blinked, saying nothing. That obviously intrigued Sephiroth enough that he tensed, pulling himself up some more.

“I see,” he continued as Vincent remained quiet, still. He shook his head slightly. “Then we do have a bit of a situation here… Valentine.” The last word was spoken in such a manner that Vincent wasn’t sure if he felt actual physical pain or his imagination was that good.

“Not now, please,” Vincent tried but Sephiroth’s eyes told him it was futile.

Sephiroth’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh?” he asked, cynical smile on his lips. “When then, Vincent?” He extended his hand towards Vincent, who moved closer, as obediently as ever. He leaned his head into Sephiroth’s hand and sighed.

Kissing was out of the question now, no matter how much Vincent wanted it, needed even. He never thought he’d feel this way, but it slowly started sinking in, this fact of him caring for both of them, if not equally then specially and differently but with equal strength.

He had no idea what to do. All this time he was certain, to the point that he would have bet his life on it, that it was Sephiroth. It was always him, it had always been him.

Even with Reno he always made it sound so simple. And then, when push came to shove, it turned out to be anything but a black and white situation.

Then Vincent heard the key being pushed into the lock and door opened before Reno. He shot them a deadly glare, growled even, but it was too low for him to notice it himself while both Sephiroth and Vincent heard it clearly.

He didn’t bother waiting for an explanation; in his mind it was all too clear and simple. “By all means, take the bed. Not like I’m gonna sleep in it ever again,” he said as he rushed through the apartment.

“Reno…” Vincent whispered as he jumped off the sofa.

But Reno was unfazed. “If you’ll excuse me, I just need a quick shower after a long day at work and I won’t bother you again.”

“Reno,” Vincent tried again, a little louder, but Reno just disappeared through the bedroom door, shutting it behind himself loudly.

“I see his manners are unchanged,” Sephiroth commented dryly as he pulled the blanket off his too long for the pyjama bottoms legs. He pulled himself to the edge of his bed and let the legs fall down.

He looked at Vincent, but then decided not to ask for help; not after seeing those red eyes narrowed and not looking at him kindly, perhaps for the first time ever.

“How a man can fall so deep is beyond me,” Sephiroth continued his commentary, even after seeing the not so nice change on Vincent’s facial features. He pushed himself off the bed into a shaky stand. “Even for a Turk,” he added then heard a rather animal like sound from deep in Vincent’s throat.

It was unfair saying it and both of them probably knew it. Didn’t stop Sephiroth, though. And it made Vincent all the more furious. Without a word, he stormed into the bedroom, manners equally loud. Then he tried to compose himself before tapping his fingernails on the bathroom door.

He didn’t get any answer nor did he expect it. The water in the shower cabin became louder, though. So did the knocking. “Reno, please,” he whispered then placed his earlobe to the cold wood. Nothing that he could hear pointed to Reno actually hearing him. “It’s not what…”

“The fuck it ain’t!” Reno yelled from inside the bathroom, startling Vincent. There was a loud sound of something crashing and, ten seconds later, Reno unlocked and opened the door, damp hair as well as shirt and shorts, pointing he didn’t actually bother using a towel.

“Don’t play with me,” he started, angry. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t think you can use me for whatever the hell your mind came up with. And don’t fucking patronize me with that martyr shit!” Reno wanted to continue his yelling match at the statue Vincent had become, but then his eyes caught something behind Vincent and Reno shut his mouth.

“Need me to take care of your vermin problem?” Vincent heard Sephiroth say, slightly amused.

Vincent turned around sharply only to see Sephiroth leaning to the doorframe, a glass of water in his left hand, as dominant as ever even if not in his full glory. He wanted to speak, to finally say something to the only two people he actually loved in this world, but all of this became too much.

The last straw was hearing Reno produce that sound of anger again, which just made Sephiroth regard this entire situation even more humorously.

He could feel the shift in both of them that could lead to physically harming one another, and that was enough to make Galian wake with worry. With all the self control he possessed, he kept the Beast at bay at least physically. He produced a growl that was anything but human, filled with the desperation and pain of a hurt animal, and fled the apartment with stealthy speed that managed to surprise both Sephiroth and Reno.

A few seconds after they were left alone, as the realization of what they’d done slowly started sinking in, they regarded each other, confused.

“I need to get drunk,” Reno said resignedly as he ignored Sephiroth while walking by him.

“Stand in line,” Sephiroth commented dryly then emptied his glass of water.

---

He needed some time alone. It wasn’t easy doing what he did, fleeing like that, but he had a feeling the two of them had been willing to tear each other apart over him.

And he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve any of them. That was the culprit of this entire farce.

Sephiroth, the real him, the stubborn war hero with a patience of a rock and self control surpassing any human; he was just too much. Vincent managed to fail him three times by now; not saving his mother, not saving him and, finally, even betraying him in the worst possible way.

And, of all people, with Reno. Sweet and simple Reno with his careless antics that needed to be fought with and through to reach the core of pure gold. If anyone had the slightest idea how simple and special Reno was, they’d be standing in lines to win him over.

Vincent didn’t deserve him and it was just a matter of time before he’d have fucked it up.

Calling Chaos, because where he was going now needed wings, he couldn’t shake the thought of never returning off. Perhaps it was the right thing to do. They wouldn’t miss him because, after realizing how much better their lives would be without him, they’d have no reasons to.

And he knew how to hide. Chaos spread his wings, happy to use them now, happy to travel north, even if it meant the future of sleeping for decades yet again. He was a simple creature and all Vincent needed now was simplicity.