Oh, that whisper travels down Genesis' spin, he sighs, turning his head to kiss Sephiroth's jaw. How long did he dream about this? But now, even if eager, he feels secure, steady in his position touching Sephirtoh, calling him pet names, sharing warmth with him.

"Our room," it could hardly be called a room, but who cares? "We have a bed enough for two," he says with a smile. Then, he remembers Sephiroth's first kiss, the implied lack of experience.

He moves his hand up and down Sephiroth's spine as if to ease a nervous animal, and asks.

"Do you have any preference?"