How ironic it is, to have everything he wanted, when his time is running off. To stand beside Sephiroth as something more than comrades, when he can't raise above him for something as simple as to spar.

It's bitter. But Genesis is greedy and he'll take whatever he can.

He may not be at his strongest, yet he commands with authority, leaving his hand on Sephiroth's hair to hold him where he wants him, to kiss again, deep and wet until his body throbs with need, until it gets easier to ignore the sharp pain that's always there, starting from his shoulder and spreading all over his body. It doesn't matter.

This is the only thing that matters.