4. Change of pace

The following months flowed in such a comfortable way that Cloud was left mildly surprised. He was used to being unsettled, and the last time life seemed to stabilize around him the accident with the time materia had happened. There was a tiny voice, a mixture of vague curiosity and fear, still present deep in his mind, resurfacing from time to time, wondering if he truly relaxed, would another crisis happen just to mess his life up over again?

He supposed he'd never not worry about something or other, but it was too easy to be content with his life as it was, including the frequent encounters with Sephiroth - both the sparring and the sex, though truth be said their sparring sessions had the tendency to evolve into the latter.

They had grown comfortable with each other's presence and with their respective unique communication styles. They even had gotten used to sleeping in the same bed. It had occurred first as simple happenstance, namely falling dead asleep after sex at the end of a long day, but they soon found it wasn't half as embarrassing or unsettling as they'd have imagined.

Nowadays Cloud couldn't even muster a halfhearted discomfort - just for appearance's sake - at their attraction or the acting on it. Except the occasional raised eyebrow from Genesis when they answered all the incredulous questions with no, they weren't in love - that was annoying to a considerable degree.

It was not love. He couldn't have said what it was if his life depended on it, but surely not love. They didn't do anything different together than with their other friends (obviously besides the sex), nothing a couple would do. No dates, no romantic moments, nothing even remotely close to what Cloud would call being in love.

It was not love and he was sure they didn't want it to be love either. For a change, things were just right as they were.

And they were rather heated at the moment.

Cloud was having a hard time gathering his thoughts, or deciding which sensation to focus on. There were so much to feel: the mixed smell of Sephiroth's hot breath, leather, and sweaty arousal; muscles shifting in an endless dance under his restless fingers; lips to find and clothes to shed. Today's spar was even more intense than usual, with Sephiroth looking at him from the beginning in a way that made heat sizzle up in Cloud's stomach. He wasn't as keen on winning as usual, more like wanting to put a closure to the session rather hurriedly. They were all over each other in the training room, barely managing to leave the room with their clothes intact to head for the nearest bedroom.

Still, that didn't mean that Cloud wanted to be under Sephiroth, and even his lust-fogged mind recognized the back of his legs bumping to the bedframe.

"There's no way you'll pin me down to the bed. Nope."

He aimed for a tone leaving no room for argument but it came out rough from lust and so was less convincing.

"Hmmm." Sephiroth made a noncommittal sound while licking and biting Cloud's neck, eliciting small, gasping breaths from the man. He slowly stroked the blond's vertebrae, his long fingers feeling out each bone, the minute change of texture of faint scars on smooth skin, stretching his hands out to cover more of the firm muscles as he slowly traveled down. He squeezed and massaged, and pressed their bodies close to feel the sizzling heat between them. Cloud let out a moan very close to a whimper when Sephiroth started drawing lazy circles on the sensitive underside of his buttocks, knowing well that touching that part could make Cloud reconsider many things. He chuckled into Cloud's neck, low and dark, voice full of amusement.

The lazily teasing, so very confident attitude that was Sephiroth's trademark had the tendency to both annoy and attract Cloud at the same time. This time was no exception. He swallowed several moans as the light caresses sent electric shivers up his spine. He would have held out more, just for stubbornness, if not for noticing the slight trembling of Sephiroth's muscles under his hands, or the way the man was pressing his hips to Cloud's in an undulating pattern. He licked his dry lips; they both wanted the same thing.

"OK, you won. For now. One of these days, you know, it'll be my turn to top."

Cloud's voice was husky with desire, his strong hands trailing everywhere around Sephiroth as if he tried to touch and map all of his textures and clear-cut forms and smooth planes. In a sudden, quick maneuver he grabbed Sephiroth's shoulders and shoved him onto the bed. He straddled those narrow hips, his thighs stretching wonderfully and making heat flare up with renewed passion where their skin met, and fiercely kissed the man under him. Wide pupilled green eyes flashed with an unrecognizable emotion - was it challenge? - as Sephiroth retaliated the sudden attack by seizing Cloud's hard cock. Blond spikes waved as Cloud dropped his head and a visible tremble shook through him. He rocked into Sephiroth skillful hand, his own fingers curling into the hard muscles of the chest beneath him more as a way to secure himself in the waves of pleasure than feeling the other. The accelerated heartbeat under his palm made a safe anchor to the present.

Sephiroth was doing what he loved – making Cloud forget himself in pleasure, watching the way the rapturous extasy erased the lines of cold hardness from Cloud's face. A triumphant little smirk crept over his face as his sure fingers played Cloud by the rhythm of a well-known music.

Catching that smug little smile, Cloud's eyes narrowed dangerously. Two can play that game, he thought, and positioned himself a bit higher on the man's lap and pushed down, rubbing his cock hard to Sephiroth's. Now it was his turn to moan. A strong hand flew to grab Cloud's hips while long fingers firmly massaged his length in rhythm with his undulating movements. Soon, all thoughts about control and dominance were forgotten between panting breaths, hands gripping slick and sweaty flesh, the heat, the connection.

It's not love, Cloud thought as Sephiroth stretched him with two, then three fingers, brushing against his prostate again and again until Cloud saw stars and barely could hold himself from blowing apart. They were comrades, sparring partners, equals and rivals in fights, and friends. All of which had never seemed possible to him. And there was the need, heating them, coercing them to touch, to bind, to connect on many levels. Maybe it was the cells, maybe it was chemistry. Anyway it was pure want, and neither of them played it down when it surfaced, neither of them lied.

It's not love, Cloud thought as he lowered himself, moaning at the feeling of being filled, throbbing, the heat rising steadily to flaring, consuming flames.

It's not love, he thought as he rode Sephiroth, both of them dissolving into pleasure, but it's close enough.