Head Over Feet: Waiting
Jun. 28th, 2011 02:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: A new piece of Head Over Feet that I dedicate to Kuromei who has been a long-standing support to me! This is also unbeta'ed.
Title: Waiting
Series: Head Over Feet
Pairings: Sephiroth/Tseng
Rating: T
Words: 1579
Description: In which Sephiroth is anxiously patient.
It was weeks before Sephiroth saw or heard from Tseng again. The sub-commander had been busy on one mission after another, as though he were avoiding Sephiroth. As though what passed between them in the training arena was easily forgettable.
Sephiroth, for his part, would not be allowed to forget. The memory haunted his dreams. The ghostly feeling and taste of Tseng's lips. The sight of the Turk flushed and bathed in sweat, clothes stickily clinging to his body. The evidence of his arousal, a bulge beneath the covering of his thin pants.
It was the sight of it which bought Sephiroth his vowel. He'd only noticed it when they were sparring, and that was when Sephiroth's own world shoved into overdrive.
Tseng was hard. For battle, for him? Sephiroth's own libido dearly wished for the latter. He took a chance; he kissed the Turk. Told himself that he was risking little with the opportunity for gaining much. They were Turk and Soldier after all. If Sephiroth didn't want to cross paths with Tseng again, he wouldn't have to.
Except that Tseng returned the kiss. With hunger, voraciously even. If not for the unfortunate appearance of that janitor, who knew how far they may have gone? Sephiroth's body filled with heat at the thought.
Sephiroth wanted Tseng. It appeared that the Turk wanted him in return. Sephiroth saw no reason to keep this from happening. Turks and Soldier weren't meant to mix, but he would have to find an exception in this case. No one else would do.
Except, for this to happen, Sephiroth would actually have to speak with Tseng. Weeks had gone by since he'd even had a glimpse of the Turk. Their schedules were completely conflicting, leaving Sephiroth standing on the precipice, his nights filled with vivid dreams and his days haunted by the memories of said dreams.
They were distracting him. Even Zack had noticed, going so far as to comment on it. Sephiroth had rebuffed his curiosities, but Zack was like a dog with a bone. He wasn't going to let up until Sephiroth revealed the truth.
“You missed.”
“I did not miss,” Sephiroth replied tightly, feeling a vein in his forehead tick, a response oddly reminiscent of Zack on another one of his long harangue's about Professor Hojo and how worthless the greasy scientist was. “I miscalculated the curve of my trajectory.”
Zack tossed him a sidelong look. “Semantics, Seph. It's all the same thing. You missed.” And then he grinned. “You were distracted.”
“I was not.”
“You were, too.”
“I was--” Sephiroth cut himself off, before he let Zack get him trapped in a juvenile exchange of phrases. “I am a busy man, Fair. Free time is at a premium. President Shinra--”
Zack snorted, waving one hand through the air. “You keep talking and all I hear is blah, blah, blah, Sephiroth.” He moved ahead of the General and started walking backward of all things, watching Sephiroth with no small amount of amusement. “Work never distracts you. And I know you've been hiding something from me. So spill it.”
Sephiroth's arms folded over his chest as he slowed to a halt, unwilling to chance Zack backing into someone important and causing an outright mess of things. “How many times must I repeat the same tired argument until you believe me?”
“When it's actually the truth,” Zack replied with a quick grin. He bounced on his heels, blue eyes sharply glancing over Sephiroth from head to toe. “So maybe I should stop asking what it is you are hiding from me and change it to who.”
If there was one person in all of ShinRa that Sephiroth trusted – though he'd never admit so aloud – it was Zack. Yet, Sephiroth still hesitated. Such things were private and he'd had enough trouble admitting the truth to himself, much less aloud to anyone else. Besides, he suspected he already knew what Zack's solution would be to the problem and was loathe to find himself accidentally locked into the nearest storage closet with Tseng.
That might solve Sephiroth's problem of being able to find said Turk, but it was humiliating. As well as disgusting. Those closets were notorious for being filthy, close in confines, and dark.
In the end, it came down to self-preservation.
Sephiroth sighed. “Zack--”
“Am I interrupting something?” The voice was simultaneously amused and curious and familiar enough that Sephiroth whirled with distinctly less poise than he was used to employing.
His eyes fell on the familiar – if randomly absent – form of Tseng, who stood with his hands behind his back, one eyebrow arched as his gaze flicked between Zack and a now mortified Sephiroth. Tseng, for his part, didn't look much the worse for wear for all that he'd spend the last six weeks bouncing from one mission to the next, his clothes perfectly pressed, his expression composed, save for the glimmer of heat in silver eyes.
Zack leaned around Sephiroth, waving cheerfully. “Hello, Tseng. I see you returned from Glacier in one piece.”
“Yes, I did,” Tseng confirmed. “Though if I never see another snow-covered mountain again, I won't complain.” His gaze flickered to Sephiroth, head inclining in a show of respect. “Good afternoon, General.”
Sephiroth twitched. “Tseng,” he replied respectfully, and thought that Zack would have to be a moron to miss the tension simmering in the air. The way Sephiroth couldn't keep his eyes from Tseng and the way the Turk was watching him in return.
The memory of the kiss replayed in the back of Sephiroth's mind, complete with color and taste and touch.
“What brings you down to the military side?” Zack asked, the slow curve of his lips all the proof Sephiroth needed that his best friend was at his most observant.
“I delivered a copy of my report to Heidegger,” Tseng replied, frustration coloring the amusement in his tone. “Apparently, it was of the utmost importance.”
Zack snorted. “They've got you playing delivery boy again? Sucks to be you.”
“Indeed.” Tseng made a noise of agreement in his throat before allowing his gaze to slide to Sephiroth, who should have been recalling the details of the Glacier mission and wondering why it was so important. “It did, however, provide me with the opportunity to borrow a moment of the General's time. If he is so inclined.”
Sephiroth was glad for his self-control, as it prevented him from breaking into a broad grin and betraying the truth of his reaction. “At present, I have the time for a meeting,” he replied, and his eyes shifted to Zack. “Fair, if you'll excuse us.”
Black eyebrows nearly crawled to his hairlines. “No problem, Seph,” Zack said, blue gaze bright with thought. “I can see where I'm intruding. I'll catch ya later.”
He waved a hand through the air and turned, heading down the hall away from Sephiroth and Tseng, though not without a passing, considering glance over his shoulder. Sephiroth signed inwardly. Zack was no fool. No doubt he'd already put two and two together and would be harassing him about it soon enough.
Best to make things worth the inevitable teasing then.
With Zack gone, the hallway was unusually abandoned. Where there was normally a hustle and bustle of couriers, low ranking officers, and harried secretaries, the corridor was oddly silent and empty. Rather fortuitous, actually.
Sephiroth shifted his gaze back to Tseng, finding the Turk watching him intently, those molten eyes darkening to a gunmetal grey. “Your mission was a success?” he asked, inwardly cursing himself for having only topics of work to start the conversation.
“By Turk guidelines, yes,” Tseng replied, a hint of dark humor in his tone. “But it wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Something inside Sephiroth leapt with thrill. He turned, folding his arms behind his back, to conceal his out of character glee. “Walk with me,” he said, and Tseng fell in step beside him.
“I am on leave for the next week,” Tseng said, before Sephiroth could even formulate a more useful segue into the conversation he intended to hold. “I find that my week of down time is inexplicably free.”
There was an invitation in his words. All Sephiroth had to do was accept it. He felt ridiculously grateful that Tseng had been the one with the courage this time. He'd have only flubbed it up.
Sephiroth spoke, voice even and not betraying the excited racing of his heart. “I would be interested in another spar with you, Tseng,” he replied, being purposefully vague. “Tuesday and Thursday are my free evenings.”
Silver eyes watched him from the side, a glance Sephiroth caught in profile. “Thursday would suit.”
Pausing mid-stride, Sephiroth looked directly at Tseng, wondering if the building lust was as obvious in his eyes, as it was in Tseng's. “Thursday it is.”
Tseng's lips twitched before he inclined his head. “I'll see you then,” he said, and politely excused himself, just before a random soldier came striding down the hallway, playing oblivious witness to their conversation.
Sephiroth watched Tseng go, anticipation curling inside of him.
Thursday it was.
a/n: This isn't quite the smut that she asked for, but that'll come in the next piece. Yes it will. *grins*
Feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Title: Waiting
Series: Head Over Feet
Pairings: Sephiroth/Tseng
Rating: T
Words: 1579
Description: In which Sephiroth is anxiously patient.
It was weeks before Sephiroth saw or heard from Tseng again. The sub-commander had been busy on one mission after another, as though he were avoiding Sephiroth. As though what passed between them in the training arena was easily forgettable.
Sephiroth, for his part, would not be allowed to forget. The memory haunted his dreams. The ghostly feeling and taste of Tseng's lips. The sight of the Turk flushed and bathed in sweat, clothes stickily clinging to his body. The evidence of his arousal, a bulge beneath the covering of his thin pants.
It was the sight of it which bought Sephiroth his vowel. He'd only noticed it when they were sparring, and that was when Sephiroth's own world shoved into overdrive.
Tseng was hard. For battle, for him? Sephiroth's own libido dearly wished for the latter. He took a chance; he kissed the Turk. Told himself that he was risking little with the opportunity for gaining much. They were Turk and Soldier after all. If Sephiroth didn't want to cross paths with Tseng again, he wouldn't have to.
Except that Tseng returned the kiss. With hunger, voraciously even. If not for the unfortunate appearance of that janitor, who knew how far they may have gone? Sephiroth's body filled with heat at the thought.
Sephiroth wanted Tseng. It appeared that the Turk wanted him in return. Sephiroth saw no reason to keep this from happening. Turks and Soldier weren't meant to mix, but he would have to find an exception in this case. No one else would do.
Except, for this to happen, Sephiroth would actually have to speak with Tseng. Weeks had gone by since he'd even had a glimpse of the Turk. Their schedules were completely conflicting, leaving Sephiroth standing on the precipice, his nights filled with vivid dreams and his days haunted by the memories of said dreams.
They were distracting him. Even Zack had noticed, going so far as to comment on it. Sephiroth had rebuffed his curiosities, but Zack was like a dog with a bone. He wasn't going to let up until Sephiroth revealed the truth.
“You missed.”
“I did not miss,” Sephiroth replied tightly, feeling a vein in his forehead tick, a response oddly reminiscent of Zack on another one of his long harangue's about Professor Hojo and how worthless the greasy scientist was. “I miscalculated the curve of my trajectory.”
Zack tossed him a sidelong look. “Semantics, Seph. It's all the same thing. You missed.” And then he grinned. “You were distracted.”
“I was not.”
“You were, too.”
“I was--” Sephiroth cut himself off, before he let Zack get him trapped in a juvenile exchange of phrases. “I am a busy man, Fair. Free time is at a premium. President Shinra--”
Zack snorted, waving one hand through the air. “You keep talking and all I hear is blah, blah, blah, Sephiroth.” He moved ahead of the General and started walking backward of all things, watching Sephiroth with no small amount of amusement. “Work never distracts you. And I know you've been hiding something from me. So spill it.”
Sephiroth's arms folded over his chest as he slowed to a halt, unwilling to chance Zack backing into someone important and causing an outright mess of things. “How many times must I repeat the same tired argument until you believe me?”
“When it's actually the truth,” Zack replied with a quick grin. He bounced on his heels, blue eyes sharply glancing over Sephiroth from head to toe. “So maybe I should stop asking what it is you are hiding from me and change it to who.”
If there was one person in all of ShinRa that Sephiroth trusted – though he'd never admit so aloud – it was Zack. Yet, Sephiroth still hesitated. Such things were private and he'd had enough trouble admitting the truth to himself, much less aloud to anyone else. Besides, he suspected he already knew what Zack's solution would be to the problem and was loathe to find himself accidentally locked into the nearest storage closet with Tseng.
That might solve Sephiroth's problem of being able to find said Turk, but it was humiliating. As well as disgusting. Those closets were notorious for being filthy, close in confines, and dark.
In the end, it came down to self-preservation.
Sephiroth sighed. “Zack--”
“Am I interrupting something?” The voice was simultaneously amused and curious and familiar enough that Sephiroth whirled with distinctly less poise than he was used to employing.
His eyes fell on the familiar – if randomly absent – form of Tseng, who stood with his hands behind his back, one eyebrow arched as his gaze flicked between Zack and a now mortified Sephiroth. Tseng, for his part, didn't look much the worse for wear for all that he'd spend the last six weeks bouncing from one mission to the next, his clothes perfectly pressed, his expression composed, save for the glimmer of heat in silver eyes.
Zack leaned around Sephiroth, waving cheerfully. “Hello, Tseng. I see you returned from Glacier in one piece.”
“Yes, I did,” Tseng confirmed. “Though if I never see another snow-covered mountain again, I won't complain.” His gaze flickered to Sephiroth, head inclining in a show of respect. “Good afternoon, General.”
Sephiroth twitched. “Tseng,” he replied respectfully, and thought that Zack would have to be a moron to miss the tension simmering in the air. The way Sephiroth couldn't keep his eyes from Tseng and the way the Turk was watching him in return.
The memory of the kiss replayed in the back of Sephiroth's mind, complete with color and taste and touch.
“What brings you down to the military side?” Zack asked, the slow curve of his lips all the proof Sephiroth needed that his best friend was at his most observant.
“I delivered a copy of my report to Heidegger,” Tseng replied, frustration coloring the amusement in his tone. “Apparently, it was of the utmost importance.”
Zack snorted. “They've got you playing delivery boy again? Sucks to be you.”
“Indeed.” Tseng made a noise of agreement in his throat before allowing his gaze to slide to Sephiroth, who should have been recalling the details of the Glacier mission and wondering why it was so important. “It did, however, provide me with the opportunity to borrow a moment of the General's time. If he is so inclined.”
Sephiroth was glad for his self-control, as it prevented him from breaking into a broad grin and betraying the truth of his reaction. “At present, I have the time for a meeting,” he replied, and his eyes shifted to Zack. “Fair, if you'll excuse us.”
Black eyebrows nearly crawled to his hairlines. “No problem, Seph,” Zack said, blue gaze bright with thought. “I can see where I'm intruding. I'll catch ya later.”
He waved a hand through the air and turned, heading down the hall away from Sephiroth and Tseng, though not without a passing, considering glance over his shoulder. Sephiroth signed inwardly. Zack was no fool. No doubt he'd already put two and two together and would be harassing him about it soon enough.
Best to make things worth the inevitable teasing then.
With Zack gone, the hallway was unusually abandoned. Where there was normally a hustle and bustle of couriers, low ranking officers, and harried secretaries, the corridor was oddly silent and empty. Rather fortuitous, actually.
Sephiroth shifted his gaze back to Tseng, finding the Turk watching him intently, those molten eyes darkening to a gunmetal grey. “Your mission was a success?” he asked, inwardly cursing himself for having only topics of work to start the conversation.
“By Turk guidelines, yes,” Tseng replied, a hint of dark humor in his tone. “But it wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Something inside Sephiroth leapt with thrill. He turned, folding his arms behind his back, to conceal his out of character glee. “Walk with me,” he said, and Tseng fell in step beside him.
“I am on leave for the next week,” Tseng said, before Sephiroth could even formulate a more useful segue into the conversation he intended to hold. “I find that my week of down time is inexplicably free.”
There was an invitation in his words. All Sephiroth had to do was accept it. He felt ridiculously grateful that Tseng had been the one with the courage this time. He'd have only flubbed it up.
Sephiroth spoke, voice even and not betraying the excited racing of his heart. “I would be interested in another spar with you, Tseng,” he replied, being purposefully vague. “Tuesday and Thursday are my free evenings.”
Silver eyes watched him from the side, a glance Sephiroth caught in profile. “Thursday would suit.”
Pausing mid-stride, Sephiroth looked directly at Tseng, wondering if the building lust was as obvious in his eyes, as it was in Tseng's. “Thursday it is.”
Tseng's lips twitched before he inclined his head. “I'll see you then,” he said, and politely excused himself, just before a random soldier came striding down the hallway, playing oblivious witness to their conversation.
Sephiroth watched Tseng go, anticipation curling inside of him.
Thursday it was.
* * * *
a/n: This isn't quite the smut that she asked for, but that'll come in the next piece. Yes it will. *grins*
Feedback is welcome and appreciated!
