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It isn’t Cloud’s first time doing this.
It isn’t the first time he’s decided, after a rough day or week or month, to find a nice, classy bar somewhere between his office and his apartment—not so close to either to accidentally slut where he eats—to find himself a good distraction for a night. Hell, it isn’t even his first time catching the attention of a couple.
Something about this time feels…different, but he can’t really put his finger on why.
The first man catches his eye almost instantly. The redhead offers a smug smirk and struts over to where Cloud is seated at the bar. His hips swing with each step and his fine, heeled boots click pleasantly.
He rests his elbows on the bartop, leans just the right amount into Cloud’s space to communicate interest without being overbearing. Asks, “Can I buy you a drink?”
Cloud takes in what’s on offer a little shamelessly, the ball in his court. The man’s got a thing for red—his cropped hair is a dark auburn, his flared coat a deep burgundy. His single long earring catches the light, catches Cloud’s attention, and Cloud notices that his lips look like they’d feel really nice.
“Vodka tonic,” he says.
The redhead rests his chin on a hand, raises the other casually to signal the bartender, but doesn’t take his attention away from Cloud. “My name’s Genesis, by the way. But you should call me Gen.”
“Cloud,” he offers in response.
“Cute. Pleasure to meet you.” The smirk is a little less smug, but still deeply pleased, like a cat given cream. Cloud’s drink arrives and Gen tips the bartender generously.
“You’re not having anything?”
He shrugs. “They don’t serve my drink of choice here. And I’m more interested in your company, anyway.” His eyes rake up Cloud’s body in appraisal.
Cloud raises an eyebrow, manages to only choke a tiny bit on his drink. “You’re forward.”
“Mm. I like to think I’m direct.”
A deeper voice calls, “I see you’re wasting no time tonight,” and Gen’s smirk goes back to smug. Cloud turns, his curiosity getting the better of him.
And fuck.
The man who approaches them is tall and broad-shouldered, with flawless silver hair that reaches down to his tailbone. Genesis opens his posture—a subtle thing, a slight turn of his torso—and the man slides in to embrace him in a way that is both easy and intimate, presses a soft kiss to the top of his head. Then he turns the full weight of his attention to Cloud, and heat goes straight to Cloud’s cunt.
His eyes are bright green, his pupils oddly shaped—but surely, that’s a trick of the dim light in the bar, or the work of the bartender’s heavy pour. He’s a bit taller than Genesis, which means even with Cloud seated on the high barstool, the new man towers over him.
“Cloud, this is Seph.”
Cloud isn’t entirely sure how to greet this new man, so he offers his hand to shake. Seph takes it and dips his head to press a kiss to the back of it. It’s corny as fuck—but the way he looks up at Cloud with heavy-lidded eyes, dark with intent, makes it so that Cloud suddenly doesn’t quite remember how to breathe.
“Sephiroth,” the man offers. Then he asks with remarkable ease, “And are you interested in entertaining just Gen, or the both of us?”
Ah—they’re a couple of those evolved perverts, what’s it called?—oh yeah, polyamorous.
Cloud decides he can work with that.
The cab ride is a bit of a blur.
The backseat is small for the three of them, but that’s a wonderful excuse to be handsy. Seph’s arm rests around his shoulders, his hair tickling as he presses chaste kisses to Cloud’s temple, his cheek, and Gen’s hands wander in the dark. The redhead’s touch is easy and sure, and he homes in on Cloud’s most sensitive spots immediately. Cloud does his damnedest not to moan outright in the poor cabbie’s backseat, but the way he gasps and pants under Gen’s attentions isn’t exactly subtle.
They arrive at an apartment building—all tall glass and metal with a doorman out front, well out of anything Cloud could dream of affording—and Gen pulls Cloud out of the cab while Seph settles the fare, wraps his arms around Cloud’s neck and kisses him right there on the sidewalk. Cloud knows Gen didn’t have anything to drink at the bar, but the way he tastes reminds him of winters back home, of heady wine mulled with warm spices. Seph chuckles warmly at the sight and nudges them toward the building.
Gen somehow manages to get more touchy in the elevator. And Cloud only had one drink, but the more those deft, capable hands touch him, the more heavily he feels his buzz settle into his bones, feels his awareness go warm and syrupy.
The elevator dings, the apartment door closes behind them, and Gen has him pushed up against a wall, has his thigh between Cloud’s legs, pressing hard against his pussy, before he can react. A broken moan comes out of him and Gen chuckles, nips at his lips with his teeth.
Cloud cracks his eyes open, sees Sephiroth carefully hanging his coat by the door. He wonders briefly about the dynamic between the two of them—if Seph is the kind that just likes to watch.
And almost as if he could feel Cloud thinking about him, those strange eyes find his, and he grins. There’s something in it just this side of predatory. It makes Cloud choke out another moan.
Gen groans, “Goddess, Seph, look at him. He’s so easily overwhelmed.”
And overwhelmed is right—Cloud can barely form a thought before Genesis touches, kisses, grinds it away. He’s still in all his clothes and he’s so warm, his head is so fuzzy…
Genesis tugs off Cloud’s scarf, and those soft, warm lips and that clever tongue work over his bared neck. Cloud knocks his head back against the wall, arches up into the other man’s body, but somewhere in his sudden movement is something sharp and piercing, and a warning chill shoots up his spine.
When Gen pulls back from him, his lips are tinged red with Cloud’s blood. He licks his lips and makes a pleased sound, his pupils huge like he’s drunk.
Fear sinks into Cloud’s stomach like a stone, and his arousal spikes in spite of it. Something in the very back of his mind, something almost primal, shouts danger.
But Seph lays a soft hand on his cheek, tips his face up to meet those strange, catlike eyes.
“You’re safe,” he says, and that deep baritone wraps warm and soothing around Cloud’s awareness. “There’s nowhere else you’d rather be.”
And whatever was bothering Cloud just a moment ago suddenly seems unreachable, irrelevant. He smiles, sags a bit more between the wall and Genesis.
Gen makes a small, put-out sound. “You know I like how they taste when they’re scared.”
Sephiroth hums. “I do. So much that you’d drain him without even giving me a chance to play.” His touch on Cloud’s face is so gentle, so light, and Cloud finds himself preening against that cool hand. He likes how Genesis touches him, how Genesis kisses him, but Seph seems so much more restrained. He wants to know what the other man will offer him.
Cloud begs, “Touch me,” one hand in Gen’s hair, the other reaching toward Seph. “Please.”
A dangerous smile. “So polite,” he purrs, and he leans down to press his mouth to Cloud’s. His hair falls in a curtain around them, and Cloud giggles briefly at the way it tickles.
But when Seph kisses his mouth open, he forgets how to think of much of anything else.
Kissing Seph is like taking a deep breath of cold mountain air, is bright and harsh in his lungs. Where Genesis was hot and impatient, Seph moves like time means nothing to him; slow, indulgent, savoring.
There is another brief, sharp pain, this time in the kiss, but Cloud knows that he is safe, that there is nowhere else he wants to be. So when his mouth warms with the metallic taste of his own blood and Sephiroth sucks on his tongue, Cloud just moans and grinds against the friction of Gen’s leg, still wedged firm between his own.
The kiss is broken suddenly and Cloud sees Gen’s hand twisted in that fall of silver hair, hears him grit out, “Share,” before he pulls Seph to him in a hungry kiss.
There’s a soft pink flush high on Seph’s cheeks that wasn’t there before. Cloud isn’t sure he’s ever seen something more beautiful.
“You can’t tell me his arousal isn’t delicious,” Seph purrs when they pull apart, and Gen grunts in a way that conveys both fondness and a touch of annoyance.
“It is,” he pouts.
Sephiroth turns the weight of his gaze back to Cloud, and those slit pupils are magnetic. He leans down, lifts Cloud effortlessly up into his arms, and Cloud hooks his knees over Seph’s hips automatically. Sephiroth walks them further into the house, lays soft kisses against Cloud’s face.
He sets Cloud down on an expansive, plush bed draped in dark silk sheets, and he sets to work undressing him. Genesis joins them, watches fondly.
Seph croons, “Cloud,” and Cloud’s hole clenches around nothing, eagerly, in response to just the sound of his name from the man’s lips. “Why don’t you tell Gen exactly how you like to be touched?”
The air goes out of him in a rush. He nods, dizzy with his desire to comply, and says, “I like to be teased.”
“That’s a lovely start,” Sephiroth says. He settles in behind Cloud, pulls him back to rest against his broad chest, then hooks his legs under Cloud’s to spread them wide. Cloud makes a small, self-conscious sound at feeling so open, even with his binder and underwear still on. “More specific, now.”
He swallows, and with some effort, meets Gen’s hungry gaze. “Your mouth on my neck,” he breathes. “Light touches on my sides, my chest, my thighs. Touch my—my pussy,” he stammers, his face going hot. “But not my clit, and not inside me, not until I beg for it.”
Genesis chuckles, a dark gleam in his eye as he crawls toward Cloud on the bed. Says, “He likes you in his head, I think.”
Cloud nods, not entirely understanding what Genesis means—only understanding that the more he obeys Sephiroth, the more he lets himself bend under the gentle push of the man’s will, the better he feels, the safer he feels.
Sephiroth presses his lips to Cloud’s neck in a soft kiss, smiles against him, and Cloud hears in his mind, Is that so, little puppet? And that direct injection of thought, what might have felt like an invasion, once, instead feels just as good as the hands and mouths on his skin.
He whispers, “Yes, Sir,” the title coming thoughtlessly.
Gen purrs, “What a darling creature,” and sets about following Cloud’s instruction.
He kisses Cloud’s mouth, first, and it’s night and day from how he kissed before. Before it was hurried, demanding—now Gen ghosts his lips over Cloud’s, flicks his tongue against him in just the barest touch, then retreats—and when Cloud tries to chase him, Sephiroth’s arm around him flexes, barely perceptible, but his strength holds Cloud like a vise.
Cloud rocks his hips against nothing and makes a desperate sound. He feels Sephiroth’s pleasure vibrate the string between them.
Genesis gets Cloud’s binder off over his head and brushes the backs of his hands down the side of Cloud’s ribs, the touch light enough to tickle. Cloud’s nipples stiffen in the cool air, and he knocks his head back onto Seph’s shoulder, digs his fingertips into the man’s legs on either side of him, just to have something to do with his hands.
“Please,” he gasps out.
“Is that what you mean by begging?” Gen asks, his tone derisive. “I’m sure you can do better for me.” He trails open-mouthed kisses over Cloud’s collarbone, brushes one callused thumb light, so light, over a nipple, and Cloud cries out.
“My, but he’s sensitive,” rumbles from behind him.
Gen hums, drags sharp teeth over Cloud’s ribs. Warmth drips down the side of his body, but there is nowhere Cloud would rather be—especially when Gen runs a hot tongue over him, when he groans at the taste and Cloud thinks, He likes it, I’m making him sound like that.
Something sings in his head from Sephiroth, something green—envy?—and he feels sharpness on the side of his neck again, feels Seph’s mouth seal around him and he cries out, ”Please!”
Gen slips a hand into his underwear, and Cloud is so wet that Gen’s fingers slip against him and he almost wants to be embarrassed—but Seph sucks on his neck and his body arches into the touch, taut and tense. Gen strokes gently over his hole, retreats when Cloud tries to grind against him. The redhead pulls one hard nipple into his mouth and sinks his teeth into Cloud’s small tit.
Cloud screams between them, overcome with the feeling of both of them piercing him at the same time, even as his hole stays woefully empty, his stiff clit ignored; he feels his orgasm spill hot over Gen’s hand, onto the bed, as they extract his blood so, so gently. He trembles at the pleasure that pulses through him, can barely hear himself stuttering out, “Fuck, fuck thank you, gods…”
Good boy. echoes in his head and the only response Cloud can muster is a weak moan.
The mouths on him withdraw and Gen’s grin is broad, bloody, his eyes glowing bright. “You were right, Seph.” He drags his tongue over the two small puncture wounds on the side of Cloud’s tit, flicks over his other nipple, and Cloud shudders. “Would have been a shame to spend him too soon.” Gen’s fingers massage over the swollen flesh of Cloud’s labia, still denying him the attention where he craves it.
Seph’s hands come up from behind to cup either of Cloud’s small, perky tits and tug on his nipples. He purrs into Cloud’s ear, “You want to thank Gen for making you feel so good, don’t you?”
Cloud squeezes his eyes shut and whimpers, nods. Sephiroth pinches and rolls his nipples, and Cloud’s empty cunt clenches in need of something.
Believe it or not, he likes to be quite the pillow princess.
Sephiroth untangles himself from Cloud, and Cloud feels bereft for the briefest moment before he feels a gentle but firm push on his body. His hand goes to Gen’s cheek as if tugged by a string, and Genesis’s eyes go wide for a moment before his expression settles back into that pleased, knowing smile.
Kiss him down. Slowly.
Cloud crawls into Gen’s space, uncaring of his own state of undress, of the mess of his slick cooling between his legs. He straddles the other man and brings their mouths together, pushes what he can of Gen’s clothes off of him. He runs his hands up his ribs, digs his fingertips in on either side, just below the scars on his chest.
His experience is not out-of-body, exactly, but he feels himself slide between active participant and passive onlooker. When Cloud thinks to kiss Genesis lightly, the way he enjoys being kissed himself, a soft nudge presses him to go deeper, harder. Though he would normally be more reserved with his tongue, when he licks into Gen’s mouth, his body lights up with the thrill of Sephiroth’s praise, of being a good boy, and he leans into it to chase that feeling.
You’re doing so well, Cloud. Listen to him.
So he does. He guides Gen down to the bed with an arm around his waist, drinks down each chuckle and sigh and gasp and moan that he lets fall under Cloud’s (Sephiroth’s?) attentions.
Cloud presses open kisses to Gen’s neck, and invisible hands guide him down, to kiss over his chest, to flick his tongue over smooth, silvery scar tissue, to nip at his belly while his hands work Gen’s pants open.
“That’s good, Cloud,” Sephiroth says, this time aloud. Cloud’s pussy twitches at the praise, and when he feels the man’s fingers drag down the waistband of his shorts, he starts to turn to look at him.
But his head is pulled back, and he isn’t sure if it’s by Gen’s hand, tangled in his hair, or by Sephiroth’s will.
Cool air hits Cloud’s dripping pussy and Sephiroth’s long, cool fingers spread him open, tease at the edge of his hole. Then Seph’s mouth presses an open, wet kiss to the crease where ass meets thigh.
Take care of him, Cloud, and I’ll take care of you.
Cloud is grateful that Gen helps with getting his pants off, because he’s not sure he can remember how clothes work at this point—not with the way that Seph’s fingers tease over his slick folds, the way that mouth plays over sensitive skin so, so close to where he wants it. Gen watches him with a sly smile, leaned back with his shirt open, a tiny, delicate lace thong stuck wet to his cunt.
Cloud tugs the cloth aside and licks a long stripe up the center of him, over his heavy, thick clit, and pleasant static crinkles in his head at Gen’s moan.
That’s good, little puppet. More.
And just as with kissing Genesis, there are gentle, invisible tugs and pushes to show him how, exactly, he should play with Gen’s cunt. He begins gently, but that not-voice tells him that Gen quite likes a light drag of teeth, likes to have his pussy spit on, needs something inside to get anywhere near an orgasm.
Cloud finds he quite likes following directions.
With two fingers knuckle deep, laving his tongue over Gen’s sweet, musky center, Gen twists his fingers in Cloud’s hair. A third finger, and Gen cries out and rocks up into his mouth, and Seph rewards Cloud with a single, circular stroke over his clit. Cloud lets go for a brief moment to shout his pleasure, but both Gen’s hands and Seph’s will push him back down.
Be good, now. he hears, with just the barest edge of a threat.
And he knows better than to stop for something so self-indulgent as speaking, so he pleads in his mind, hoping that it will be enough to vibrate the thread between them, I will, I’m sorry, I’ll be good, please touch me more Sir please
Gen fucks into Cloud’s mouth, onto his fingers, and Cloud’s jaw aches with the effort of keeping his mouth open and his tongue working, but fuck, he loves it. He loves feeling useful between the two men. He loves doing well, loves how close Seph feels to sliding inside, so fucking close. He spreads Cloud open and swipes a finger over him and Cloud moans into Gen’s cunt, but doesn’t stop pleasuring him.
Seph says aloud, “Don’t be shy, my little plaything. He can take more than that.”
Genesis barks a laugh and swears. Cloud’s hand moves as if being physically guided, pulls his fingers out of Gen so that he can hold all of his fingers together and start to work his entire small hand inside. Gen is hot and impossibly tight around him, but when he so much as considers pulling back or going slowly, dissatisfaction blooms sour across his awareness, and that is the opposite of what he wants.
When the broadest part of Cloud’s hand breaches Gen’s cunt, when the man arches his back, squeezes tight around him and moans, only then does Seph return attention to his clit. Cloud groans around Gen’s small cock, curls his hand into a fist, and begins to rock it inside.
Seph’s tongue strokes once, hot, over Cloud’s asshole, and Cloud spills a second time, this time over Sephiroth’s hand.
He croons Good boy, into Cloud’s mind, and sharp teeth sink into the fleshy part of his inner thigh.
Cloud is overwhelmed; his body goes limp and heavy, but Sephiroth keeps him moving in spite of himself. Seph circles the knuckle of Cloud’s thumb inside of Gen’s tight, wet cunt in just the way that he loves. He coaxes Cloud’s neck to arch back, so that Gen can see his dazed eyes, his flushed face, can see the strings of spit and slick pull long and break between them.
And that visual serves to stoke the hunger in Gen’s eyes; he pushes Cloud’s head back between his legs, bucks his small cock hard up against Cloud’s tongue until he comes, shouting, and Sephiroth’s delight wraps warm around Cloud’s mind.
Cloud understands that he is a thing to be used, expertly puppeted by Sephiroth’s power, and there’s nowhere else he would rather be.
Kiss him, his master commands. Cloud pulls his hand mostly out of Genesis, smiles, catlike, at the way he groans at that, and climbs up his body to kiss him. The flesh of his tongue splits under sharp fangs, and all he knows is joy and the smell and taste of iron and slick; he is warm and safe.
Sephiroth climbs over top of him and pleasure sparks hot up Cloud’s spine—an echo of his master’s pleasure in his own cunt as the man sinks his cock into Gen beneath them. Sephiroth snaps his hips once, hard, and the impact against his ass makes Cloud keen, painfully aware of how empty he remains.
Genesis chuckles, his lips bright with Cloud’s blood. “You’re crueler than I am sometimes, love.” He strokes the back of his fingers over Cloud’s cheek, leans up so that he can kiss Seph. His hands find Cloud’s ass, spread him open so that the rush of air and the echo of each thrust vibrate through his most sensitive parts.
“Would you like to see me fuck him, Gen?”
Cloud screams, “Fuck, please!” from where he lies pressed between them.
The redhead laughs. “I can’t quite tell if he wants it.”
A shard of anger wells up, sharp and bright, and Cloud sinks his teeth into Gen’s shoulder. Sephiroth seizes the back of Cloud’s neck in one hand, as if he’s scruffing a kitten, and breathes, “Naughty.”
“I’ve been good,” Cloud spits. Beneath him, Gen smiles peacefully, teases his fingertips along the edges of Cloud’s wet folds. Cloud chokes out a moan, manages to snarl at Seph, “I’ve begged. I want you inside of me.”
Gen’s grin is dangerous. “And what about me? You’d leave me out?”
The frustration has pulled Cloud just enough out of Sephiroth’s haze that he understands, if only in broad strokes, what the two men—or, the two creatures—are.
But even with his wits returning to him, he realizes there is nowhere else he wants to be.
Cloud tips his head to the side, bares his neck long to Genesis in a clear offer. Says, voice thick with lust, “Want you inside me, too.”
Gen’s eyes flick past Cloud, and something hums between him and Sephiroth; then Seph pulls Cloud’s hips up, and Gen takes Cloud’s face in his hands and kisses him.
Sephiroth ruts his cock—thick, hot, slick with Gen’s wetness—over Cloud’s cunt, knocks into his small cock and drags back to catch at his hole. Cloud’s legs tremble at the promise of finally being full.
He can hear Sephiroth’s smile in his voice. “He’s waking, Gen.” Another slow drag over his cunt. “And still he wants us.”
Gen pulls back enough to search Cloud’s eyes. “Is that so, little toy?”
“Please,” is all Cloud can get out, his voice shaking.
He feels a gentle press against the back of his mind, like a request for entry.
“In me,” he pants, in answer to both of them—to Gen’s warm, full mouth, to Sephiroth’s teasing attentions and his will, poised just over him. “Please.”
Genesis pulls Cloud’s neck to his mouth, and just as Cloud feels the sharp pain of a new puncture, something warm and soft pushes into his mind and Seph pushes into his cunt.
Cloud has never before felt so full, so desired, so useful.
Sephiroth hilts himself, his hips hitting Cloud’s ass with a sinfully wet sound, and Cloud lets out a choked cry. With Gen’s fangs so deep in his flesh, with Cloud’s heart pounding so fast that some of his blood slips past the man’s greedy mouth, he hears Gen’s voice, albeit far fainter than Seph’s.
I know, baby. His chuckle bounces in Cloud’s mind even as it vibrates against his neck. He’s so much, isn’t he?
Sephiroth rolls into him like waves crashing—a slow drag out, an artful roll of his hips to stroke back inside, carving space for himself inside of Cloud. Each thrust pulls Cloud closer to overwhelm, closer to falling apart.
Gen draws his tongue over the wound he’s made in Cloud’s neck, watches his lover fuck into him. Cloud doesn’t realize he’s crying until Gen licks over his cheek to catch his tears.
“Oh Seph. You might break him.”
Cloud’s upper body falls heavy onto Genesis, his hips only staying up because of Sephiroth’s hold. He shakes his head.
“No? What is it?” Gen strokes his fingers through Cloud’s hair languidly, as if he isn’t being jostled by the way Seph fucks violently into Cloud.
“Want it,” he slurs. “Don’t care. Please.”
He can feel Seph’s pleasure. I refuse to break a plaything this lovely.
Sephiroth’s hands encircle the entirety of his waist, guide him with each roll of his hips so that his cock hits that swollen, aching spot deep inside. Genesis slips his hand down to work Cloud’s clit, each stroke infuriatingly slow, perfectly in time with Seph’s. His pleasure builds and builds until he isn’t sure that he can bear it—how could a fragile, human body be expected to hold so much?
Seph drapes his body heavily over Cloud’s back and grinds in shallow thrusts that make Cloud see stars. He breathes Come for us, into his mind, and Cloud screams, hoarse and desperate between them as he spills again. Then there is a mouth pressed to either side of his neck, and the edges of his self blur and melt.
He thinks thank you, unsure and uncaring if it will be the last thought he has.
Cloud comes back to his body in fragments.
A soft mouth presses kisses to his shoulder. Fingertips stroke sweetly over his hip. He is held between warm, firm bodies.
“Can we keep him?” he hears, distantly.
A chuckle. “You know I can’t say no to you.”