Life is Good : Omake

Warnings: Smut galore ahead.

Spoilers : Oh yeah, in case anyone is curious to know about the background on this lil' fic. With the powers vested upon me as a hyperimaginative writer, the world of FF7 as we know had been wiped out. Everyone died, except for the protagonists in this story. Also, (1) Zack's spirit was rescued from being sucked up by Neo-Omega, dragged to the world of living, has become a livin' and breathin' bag chock-full of mako (he has plenty of mako in his erm, bodily fluids). (2) Cloud has the ability to change his body e.g. grow a wing, thanks to Jenova's cells inside him. But this change requires a lot of energy, and Zack happens to be a very convenient source of that energy… (1) plus (2), you do the math.

"Nnn.."

Spasm. The involuntary jerk of hips.

Velvety lips glided from the root of his hardness, traced the outlines of veins, and then encircled the bulbous head with moist warmth.

Ah, delicious suction.

Delightful spasms danced around his navel, down the treasure trail and all the way to the scrotum. He shuddered; fatigued, but still responsive.

A wet tongue flicked on the reddened head, and its tip slipped into the small opening there, persuading more of the sweet milk to flow out.

There wasn't much left in his sacs since the last orgasm; he was already pleasantly emptied many, many times in the past few hours by his insatiable lover.

"Mmm?" Something long and slim was probing inside him – again. When did it enter? he distantly wondered, still lost in his dreams.

"Hnn.. what –unnh– …" Another long one found its way there, coated with cooled, slippery slickness that was the night's worth of spent passion. The two, or was it three, fingers –he presumed– pressed and made little suggestive humping motions. As if he wasn't stretched enough already, he thought.

Sweat-sticky sheets clung onto his skin. Uncomfortable. His sleep-depraved eyes refused to open. Fingers could only grapple around those sheets blindly, hoping that he could fend off the source of the annoyance.

Strong hands pinned his wrists to the bed. The familiar, warm weight lying atop him. He felt his backache returning, but he didn't struggle. He let out a tired yawn.

"..wanna sleep. Please," he muttered dreamily, mentally batting away a marauding tongue licking his neck and down to his chest, mixing saliva with droplets of sweat from the past hours of intense, sensuous lovemaking. Teeth scraped his perked nipples, followed by lips rubbing against the firmed tips; he let out a soft moan in response. Mischievous suckles in-between, leaving his nipples wet, slightly puffed and very pink.

Gentle, coaxing, but not terribly lustful. Yet.

".. 'm tired. G'away," It was supposed to be a command, but the crack at the edge of his voice made it sound like a weak plea. He kept his eyes shut, half-expecting to be left alone. Who was he to demand when he'd been the one being mounted, and thoroughly ravished for the past many days and nights?

Calloused hands released their grip on his wrists, sliding along his arms and shoulders, caressing. Those hands eventually reached his neck, cupped his jaws and tilted his face upwards. Simultaneously, those lips that had assaulted his naked torso a minute ago, had found their way to the same place, and moved in for a tender kiss.

He simply surrendered to the pleasurable invasion of hot breath and exploring tongue, of fingernails against his jugular and throaty growls harsh against his lips, and as he recalled dimly, of strong knees parting his thighs and throbbing hardness nudging his sperm-slicked entrance. His back arched and pressed against the heavy weight atop him, his cock semi-erect and bobbing with his movements – against his will; against his desire for a restful slumber for the night. Leg muscles twinge in protest from too much work in too short span of time. Even bed creaked threateningly in agreement.

More, he heard the other say. Unspoken, but understood.

"Don't wanna… mm' worn out," he murmured, forcibly pulling away from the kiss, and then found himself embraced tightly. Escape was futile. Trapped.

"N.. no…."

It was becoming unbearably hot and suffocating. This time he thrashed weakly against the strong hold. Tenderness slowly gave way to lust, the petal-soft kisses on his neck and face became hungry and desperate, fingers that touched lovingly now roamed wildly on his sides and back, clawing, bruising, grasping. Caught in a vivid nightmare, unable to fully awaken himself. Panic began to build up deep inside, in tandem with the rising heat pulsating from his groin.

It is so easy, a persuasive voice whispered at the back of his mind.

Hush, little one, and surrender, it cooed.

Just yield, and allow to be penetrated, it commanded.

Willing and subservient, there shall be no pain – only pleasure, it promised.

Desirable. Tempting. Enticing.

He spread his legs further wantonly, obedient to the voice, and he let out a long, low moan when thick hardness filled him in a single push. Still slightly stretched from the last lovemaking, he could take in the entire girth and length without feeling too uncomfortable. Still soaked with the warm, slippery seeds from the last few couplings, he gave no resistance to the intrusion into his body. He felt his muscles clamp involuntarily around the invading phallus, eliciting a low growl from the other.

It is so easy, indeed.

His partner began thrusting his hips, slowly at first but none too gentle, eventually gaining speed and momentum with each passing second. The hard flesh pulsed inside him, excited by the tightness and the contractions around it. It surged and receded, carving its way deeper and deeper, occasionally at different angles, stroking and massaging extremely pleasurable regions that left the younger man panting breathlessly and crying out in small, ecstatic moans.

A storm of desire, feelings and emotions welled up from within him, threatening to overwhelm his shaken soul. However, he bit his lips to stifle any words from escaping. He couldn't say anything.

This timeless, ageless, act of lovemaking wasn't his to decide in the first place. But he wasn't complaining at all.

The rigorous thrusting continued, never once breaking in rhythm. Ceaselessly pounding, plundering aggressively. He could very well visualize how the congealing cum from the last lovemaking sessions were being pushed deeper and further inside him. The passageway inside him was being shaped and molded according to his mate's desire, lovingly coated with warm, lubricating pre-cum and creamy semen, paving the way for more seeds to flood his inner chambers.

Such a delicious thought. He moaned with unrestrained passion, silently begging for more, wordlessly wanting their bodies to join, merge, and become one.

His back protested against the growing aches and pains, and so he reached around in the darkness, grasping his partner's sides and holding on for his dear life. He was falling, falling, and falling.

Spasm. The involuntary jerk of hips.

Almost there.

He raise his hips and hooked his legs around his partner's waist, allowing the invading flesh to burrow far, far deeper than before. He mewled with pleasure when a sweat-slicked palm pressed on his weeping arousal, and fingers curved to tighten around it.

Possessiveness.

A few more short, quick breaths, a few more waves of uncontrollable pleasure washing over his body, a few more times of bucking and jerking uncontrollably on that sweat and cum-soaked sheets, and finally, finally, a powerful orgasm crested over and crashed upon him. He opened his eyes then.

Mako blue stared into iridescent maroon.

Drawn curtains had blocked out moonlight, leaving their bedroom as dark as a starless night. He couldn't make out the features on his partner's face, couldn't see if the other was trembling in the throes of his own climax, didn't know if his beloved was drowning in the molten bliss as he was.

Rhythmic, primeval groans of pleasure interspersed with tender callings of his name. Sweat-slicked thighs fastened tightly against the curves of his ass. Heavily sex-scented breaths hot against his cheeks. His partner was cumming, and cumming hard.

Each time his partner's eyes glazed and darkened, each time the throbbing hard flesh pulsed and twitched, each time another thick spurt of hot, potent seed was propelled to his innermost depths, inundating, adding to the pool that made his belly bulge a little more, each time their small bed creaked dangerously with the weight of two men coupling continuously like animals in heat – he felt ever more satisfied.

Contented. Bliss.

Bred. Mated.

Loved.

"Nnh."

"Not comfy?"

"N..no. It's just that – mmh.. I think he's practicing his omnislash. Oh god."

"Hmm. I wonder if he'll be as cute as you, and as strong as me?"

"Nngh.. You're responsible for this too, Zack."

"My beautiful boyfriend, with his beautiful belly, carrying my beautiful baby…"

"Are you even listening? Stop touching.. mmmmh.."

"C'mere. Daddy wants to love you both."

"Ah, don't lick there. And s-stop pinching my nip.. unnh!"

"I'm so turned on, darlin', seeing you on the bed, naked, ravished, and pregnant. Let me in.. nnh.. wanna love you again."

"Stop saying such weird things! I-I'm all dirty. You need a shower. The bedsheets need cleaning. And I haven't even cooked–"

"Breakfast can wait."

"But we've already done it five times this morn– aaahh.."

"Gods, Cloud, you're still so hot and tight. Love you.. nnh.. love you.. hahh.. love you oh god so, so much.."

And so, the sex continues.

The end?