@nowalive
Catch Sephiroth just grabbing Tseng by the face for a whole ass kiss
Tseng runs through the standard litany of things to do before he leaves in the morning: breakfast warm on the stove for Sephiroth to wake up to; lunch for work is on the credenza by the door, alongside his keys and wallet. Tie’s straight, shirt tucked, everything’s in order.
His last order of business is always to kiss the sleeping Sephiroth just at the corner of his mouth. A bestowment he grants as feather-light as he’s able so as not to disturb him. So when he feels rough-hewn, furnace-warm hands grasp his newly-shaven cheeks, draw him down to be enveloped by a kiss that precludes every rational, quotidian thought he clings to.
There’s a serenity in the mindless, heedless euphoria, the bare-faced honesty and the splendid simplicity of that kiss. Of wanting that requires nothing more of him than to be present. To be nothing but himself. To be accepted and adored utterly, even in the ephemerality of an uncomplicated kiss.
Tseng breaks the kiss, dislodges himself unwillingly from the exultation of that mouth, and laughs breathless with a blank, obtuse sort of senselessness. “I feel like my day’s going to feel twice as long now,” he says softly, kissing gingerly upon the corner of Sephiroth’s mouth. “Because all I’ll be thinking about is how I can’t get back to those lips soon enough.”
