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“We’ve given him thirteen doses and it’s still not working!” Hojo said, through gritted teeth.
“Maybe it needs to be administered directly from the source?” Hojo’s young assistant suggested, staring through the laboratory’s two-way mirror at their captive.
“Maybe.” The word spit out from between his teeth like a curse. He began typing his findings into his computer terminal and jotting in ideas of what could be possibly wrong.
“He’s in heat, is he not?”
“He is. And it’s ending soon,” the assistant said, eyeing her chart.
“God dammit,” he hissed. “We need that child. It could change everything.”
“I know, Sir.”
“How quickly could he be here?”
“I’ll contact him now.”
So tired.
He was so tired.
He couldn’t keep his eyes open.
His lids were far too heavy.
Every time he tried to look at his surroundings he was met with a harsh blinding light directly above him.
He gasped and looked away, holding his eyes shut tight, focusing on the orange lids and blue veins for comfort. He had not learned, his hazy mind constantly causing him to forget the light was there, only to try again moments later.
He didn’t remember much of anything, only that he had been trapped in the stasis of not being fully conscious for a very long time. Not having any knowledge at all how long it had really been.
In reality he had been there a month and three days.
He vaguely recalled, if he wracked his brain hard enough, people in the room with him every once in a while. He would always wake up sore afterward, unsure of what they were doing to his body and unable to stop it.
His legs were elevated and his bottom half was completely exposed under the gown he was wearing. It was cold. The room. The touch. Everything about his situation.
There wasn’t a single ounce of warmth about it.
He felt unsafe and immobilized, drugged out of his mind and unable to form much of a coherent thought.
“Look at that,” Cloud heard a voice speaking and his gown being lifted a bit.
He groaned weakly, turning his head a bit.
“Soaking,” the other person in the room said.
“If he’s late I may just slip in myself,” the faceless voice said.
“Not much good it’ll do,” the other voice said. “You’re nothing like him .”
“We could always try again,” the first man snickered.
“We don’t have nine months to wait. Can’t take any chances.”
The first person exhaled. Cloud felt the hand leave his body. “Fine.”
“He’s here,” Hojo’s assistant announced, standing with her clipboard tight to her chest.
She shook with nerves, knowing this was their last ditch effort. The pregnancy and conceivement of a child of Cloud and Sephiroth’s had been her idea months ago. Not only her job, but her life was on the line, should the pregnancy fail.
Hojo was counting on it. What a perfect specimen the child would become. The ultimate weapon. A child of two of the strongest forces their planet had ever known. An inevitable creature of mass destruction. A God in its own right.
It had taken some convincing in the beginning, before Sephiroth had agreed to supply what he could to make the pregnancy happen. His actions surrounding the entire situation had been nonchalant, seemingly uncaring.
He didn’t question anything, just gave what he could.
But when Cloud failed to be bred by the come administered by speculum and syringe, Hojo had begun to get desperate.
“Send him in,” Hojo said, standing from his lab chair and waiting to welcome the great soldier.
“We’ve failed to produce any results, unfortunately,” Hojo said, cowering under Sephiroth’s large frame.
“And what do you expect me to do about it?” He said, his voice smooth and even, cocking his head, his arms crossed.
“We figured,” Hojo swallowed nervously. “Perhaps he needs you . Not just...your seed.”
“Me?”
“Yes, Sir,” Hojo nodded vigorously.
Sephiroth turned to look through the mirror to the unconscious Cloud, tied up and in stirrups, his golden hair shining under the bright light.
“And what of this child? Will it grow up here? In this lab? Become nothing but fodder for your experiments?”
“Are you requesting parental visitation?” Hojo laughed, expecting Sephiroth to laugh along with him but stopped still when the man didn’t so much as crack a smirk.
“I...We…” Hojo cleared his throat. “We’ll train the child to become great. Like you. Maybe even add on some of our own genetic modifications. They may even surpass your strength. Your joined DNA will create something not of this world. Something that could bring order. The second coming of Jenova. The child would rival the greatest forces you could not dream of defeating.”
Sephiroth continued staring at Cloud as Hojo spoke.
“And you want me to make love to him?” Sephiroth said. “You think that will change anything?”
“He’s coming to the end of his heat. You won’t be able to resist yourself once you walk through that door. His scent,” Hojo shook his head, reminiscing on it. Hojo was no alpha, but even he couldn’t deny how intoxicating it was.
“Is he prepared?” Sephiroth said, leaning against the terminal and continuing to look at Cloud, who turned his head in his sleep toward the mirror, his eyes still shut tight.
“He’s dripping.”
Cloud shifted on the cold table in his sleep, his instincts rousing his body. Slowly, sound began to make sense in his ears again as he tried flickering his eyes open, shutting them again quickly.
A gloved hand touched his nude knee, gently moving his gown further up his body.
His hips raised a bit and he whimpered. He could smell something strong, the pheromone rippling through him, his fingers and tongue tingling at the tips.
“It’s alright,” Cloud heard a voice, soft and even. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Where had he heard that voice before? He couldn’t place it. He shook his head, as if in slow motion, physically incapable of any fast movements.
The touch was gone and Cloud let out a soft disapproving sob.
“I’m here,” the voice said, touching him again. The gloved thumb stroking his skin.
Cloud relaxed a bit, sinking back against the steel bed he was strapped to.
He gasped when he felt something warm against his hole, his hips twitching in response. The person touching him began rubbing against him there. He could feel the wetness, embarrassment blushing his cheeks.
Whoever it was was an alpha. There was no other reason his body would be reacting in such a way.
“God,” the mystery man spoke, beginning to press in. “So wet baby.”
Cloud whimpered as the man’s cock filled him, his hands flexing in their vices holding his wrists down.
Sephiroth shivered, gripping Cloud’s knee with his hand, the leather stretching and relaxing from the movement as he pulled his hips back and sank in again.
Hojo and his assistant must have stretched him during his stay. But Sephiroth didn’t want to think about that. Didn’t want to think about anyone touching Cloud except himself. Not then.
Cloud’s hole was contracting around his cock, milking him, dripping at the sides as tiny whines and cries poured from his pink lips.
How beautiful.
Cloud tried again and again to open his eyes, to gaze at the man marking him, but couldn’t from the light above. He pouted and whimpered, making the attempt again in vain.
Sephiroth leaned over him, clouding the light from the beauty with his large frame. He pet Cloud’s cheek with his other gloved hand. “Look at me,” he breathed, his hips driving in and out of the boy’s quivering hole.
Cloud blinked, his long eyelashes weighing down his lids, trying again.
He opened his eyes for the first time in a month, his jaw dropping with a gentle gasp at his first look at the man inside him. He knew him. But he couldn’t place a name. He only felt a mixture of terror and desire, unsure of which emotion to trust fully.
“It’s okay,” Sephiroth said, petting his cheek again, a moan vibrating his own lips.
Cloud pressed his cheek against Sephiroth’s hand, nuzzling him with his eyes closed again. His hands flexed again in his steel cuffs, tugging and trying to get free. He wanted to hold him, wanted to touch the man inside him. He whined when he couldn’t.
Sephiroth shushed him, reaching one hand down to hold Cloud’s, lacing their fingers together.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” he pressed his face against Cloud’s cheek and kissed softly. This child belongs with us. It’ll be okay. I promise.”
Cloud turned his head, looking up into Sephiroth’s eyes. His own filling with tears. His gaze dropped to Sephiroth’s lips for a second and back up.
Sephiroth leaned in, pressing his lips against Cloud’s. Cloud opened his mouth and whined into their embrace, capturing Sephiroth’s lips in his.
Sephiroth rocked forward, tasting Cloud’s whimpers, feeling Cloud’s hand squeeze his own as he came, rutting forward with a deep groan.
He stayed inside, his mouth moving with the boy’s as he came down, his hips twitching from the added wetness, the filth of it all.
“D...don’t…” Cloud sighed, trying to formulate his words. “Go.”
“I’ll be back,” Sephiroth assured him, kissing his lips again.
“N...no.” Cloud whined, trying to nuzzle Sephiroth’s cheek from his immobile position but only reaching his chin.
“They have to believe you’re carrying the child for them,” he said. “I’ll be back for you.”
Cloud shook his head before passing out again.
Cloud awoke again days later. His life once more back in the cycle of flashing in and out for long stretches of time.
Had it all been a dream?
He didn’t feel any different.
The harsh light was back.
His dreams had all included him . His body yearned for him, missing his warmth, his words, his gentleness. The way he had touched him.
The man’s words played in his mind on a loop.
I’ll be back for you.
Had he lost his mind?
They have to believe you’re carrying the child for them.
What did that mean? What child? Where was he?
He fell asleep, mostly unconscious again, for three weeks straight.
“It was successful,” Hojo’s assistant said, a big smile plastered on her face, holding the chart of blood work. “Cloud is pregnant.”
“Excellent,” Hojo said. “We must get everything ready.”
“Should we contact him ?”
“I don’t see a reason to,” Hojo said. “He did his part. I don’t assume he would care or want to be bothered.”
“He did seem rather into it, while he was…engaging in the act,” she said.
Hojo chuckled. “Performative fucking. To trick the body. Notice how we were unsuccessful until the fake love bullshit?”
“Yes sir.”
“It seems as if it requires an act of passion. Keep that in mind. For if we ever need to create a sibling.”
The assistant nodded. “Yes sir.”
Sephiroth hadn’t expected anything upon walking into that lab. He hadn’t expected anything more than to go in and supply what they needed before leaving again.
But the very moment he was in the boy’s presence, the second he had touched his skin, he had lost himself. His body, his instincts, had become a maelstrom of ferality.
Not only physically, but mentally he had been torn apart. Laid bare to his most carnal passions.
He was meant to be his.
The promise he had made the boy hadn’t been one he had planned on keeping after he left. He had figured it was a product of the intoxication he felt while inside his body. But every moment he was away from the beautiful boy the more pain he felt.
Like a part of him was missing.
Their cells finally coming together, only to be violently ripped apart again.
He got through every day with the boy’s whimpers playing over and over again in his head on a loop. How he had cried when they had looked into one another’s eyes.
He wondered if the procedure had been successful. He hadn’t been called back to perform again, hadn’t been asked to provide any more donations.
Surely, the boy was pregnant. His child. Their child. What an absolute anomaly it would become. He couldn’t imagine them growing up being poked and prodded, used for science, like some kind of freakish monster. Like he had. If anyone was going to teach his child the ways of the world and how to harness true power, it would be him.
Cloud awoke to the sound of screams and loud banging. Groans of agony and a siren blaring.
His brain was still in a fog, but he could feel a hand touching him. Touching his wrist. The cold metal left him. His hand flexed, finally free of its bond. The same was done to his other hand.
“Come on.”
Cloud heard the voice. His voice.
He wasn’t scared.
He kept his eyes shut as he was hoisted up, weightless, into the man’s arms. He clung to him, as much as his weak muscles allowed.
His scent, his strength, his gentleness.
It was him.
It had not been a dream after all.
Sephiroth paused to move the hair out of Cloud’s face gazing down at the sleeping beauty, clinging to him, cheeks flushed, the scent of pregnancy radiating off his smooth skin.
Everything within a five-hundred foot radius was dead.
He would do anything to keep Cloud and their child safe.