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alphabet drabble meme: 'O'
15. Olive
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Pairing: Angeal/Sephiroth/Zack
For:
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“I think you have enough to feed all seven sectors,” Sephiroth had said dryly when Zack upended his back and poured out a clattering mountain of cans. One struck the kid’s foot, prompting him to dance around the kitchen swooning with faked agony while Sephiroth calmly inspected the guilty can. Angeal watched with unabashed amusement. That amusement didn’t stretch to watching Zack stick his fingertips into the olives when all three men were naked in bed later that night and still slick with sweat.
“Zack, put the olives away,” Angeal commanded. Maybe it was a result from having been the SOLDIERs’ lover for a while or just his flippant personality that made a grinning Zack wiggle his olive-topped fingers in Angeal’s face.
“Look! Angeal, look, it looks like bugs are trying to eat my fingers off. No, seriously, you should’ve seen some of the weird shit I’d find at home, especially after monsoon season. It was like Hojo’s less evil but more retarded twin decided to fuck around with all the beetles and stuff.”
Angeal rolled his eyes. Always one to take an opportunity, Sephiroth calmly reached around Zack’s upright torso and guided the hand back so that he could run his tongue up a long digit and suck the fruit off with a light pop.
Zack made a ‘guh’ sound and, as usual, let his mouth run off without thinking. “I wonder why they say people have ‘olive’ skin when it doesn’t look or feel like olives at all and if you don’t want to stop doing that then I won’t complain, Mister General Sir Man.”
Sephiroth smirked around the calloused fingers he was nibbling on.
“Zack, you’ll get juice on the covers,” Angeal sighed, managing to grab the can of olives from Zack’s free hand and put it safely on the bedside table. Zack had the presence of mind to snag a few fruits before they were placed outside of his reach. His dopey smile suddenly sharpened into a smirk not unlike Sephiroth’s.
“Mister General Sir Man,” Zack sniffed imperiously at Sephiroth, “it appears to me that your compatriot doesn’t fully understand the situation. I feel it is our responsibility—nay, our duty, forged in the fires of inter-departmental prank wars—to guide him back to the correct path.”
“Indeed, Lieutenant,” Sephiroth purred, looking more catlike than ever as he narrowed his eyes playfully at the rather wary Angeal. With that wicked little smirk Zack leaned forward on all fours over Angeal’s outspread legs, being careful not to crush the few olives in his grip, and tilted his head downwards purposefully. Since some time had passed since the last round of sex he confidently breathed out against Angeal’s tip, unable to resist a triumphant expression when his mentor let out a quiet, deep sound of surprised arousal.
Sephiroth shifted to draw Angeal into a kiss, and while the man was distracted Zack gleefully picked an olive between forefinger and thumb and carefully balanced it on the rounded tip of the other’s manhood. Angeal’s groan of exasperation into Sephiroth’s mouth quickly turned to something more primal when Zack decided to take a bit more than the olive into his own mouth. The teenager made quite sure to thoroughly lave the warm flesh with his tongue as he pulled back, mirroring what Sephiroth had done to his fingers, and laughed aloud at the mixed irritation and laughter in Angeal’s expression.
“I win.”
Zack ducked the flying can of olives with a laugh.
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