Brightly, Brightly, And With Beauty

[Fic] Kink Bingo: Bondage (Immobility) - Nagi/Omi

2009-08-29T19:59:06Z

I say Nagi/Omi, but it should really be Nagi/Mamoru, as this is set immediately post-Gluhen. It's been about eight years since I saw Gluhen, I only saw it once and I have NO desire to see it again, so hopefully I haven't made any gross errors in canon here.

Kink: Bondage (Immobility)
Series: Weiss Kreuz Gluhen
Pairing: Nagi/Omi (Mamoru)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: It's a fic for kink bingo. It's kinky, and X-rated. Nuff said.
Length: 3116

Sometimes being a bodyguard means more than just protecting someone from outside threats.

Light flooded the room abruptly, turning it from night into brightest day all in an instant. Takatori Mamoru blinked, startled by the sudden change. Then he blinked again, recognizing his own apartment and realizing that he was standing at the door with his hand on the light switch. The last thing he remembered was getting into his car and driving away from the battle. He couldn't even recall arriving at home, let alone getting in the elevator.

"Are you just going to stand there all night? Or are you going to let me follow you in?" The soft voice behind him sounded amused.

Shaking his head to try to clear it of the fog of weariness, Mamoru moved further into the apartment and let his companion enter behind him. "Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing his hand over his face. "I guess the whole thing took more out of me than I realized."

"That's not surprising." Naoe Nagi stepped inside and glanced around the room once in what Mamoru knew was a habitual gesture - checking for traps or hidden enemies. Only when he'd decided the room was safe did he close the door and activate the locks, sealing them in. "You never expected to have to fight with Weiss again."

His tone was neutral and his face nearly expressionless, but Mamoru knew him well enough now to see the flicker of concern in his eyes. "Not like this, certainly," Mamoru answered. "But at the same time, I'm glad I had one last chance to work with them. I feel like I can really put Weiss - and Omi - behind me now."

"Mm." Nagi unbuttoned his jacket and put it away, then ran a hand through his hair, pushing it momentarily out of his face. "It went better than I expected, all things considered."

"What? Them finding out that you're working for me, now?" Despite his exhaustion Mamoru chuckled. "Actually I couldn't have planned that better if I'd tried. Having you swoop down and save them all definitely put them in the right mindset to be accepting." He eyed the younger man, a little concerned. "What about you? Was it hard to see Schwartz again?"

Nagi's face hardened, and he snorted in contempt. "Fuck them. They left me to rot when they thought I wouldn't be useful anymore. Proving them wrong was ironically satisfying, nothing more." A dark smile curled his lip, closer to a smirk. "Just goes to show once again that Crawford is not as infallible as he thinks he is."

Mamoru nodded, accepting that. Not that he didn't think Nagi would try to hide it if he was distressed, because even after more than a year of working and living together, the psychic still didn't open up to Mamoru if he could help it. But there would be signs, and Mamoru didn't see any hint of distress in him.

In a way, that saddened him further. He and Nagi had a surprising number of things in common, but apparently camaraderie with their former teams wasn't one of them. The other former members of Weiss were the only family Mamoru had left, and he couldn't imagine what he would do without them. Obviously Nagi hadn't formed any sort of bonds with Schwartz in the same way.

He knew better than to offer sympathy, however. Nagi would only shut down completely, and possibly not speak to him for a day or two. "You should get some rest," he said instead, shedding his own coat. "And maybe eat something; you expended a lot of energy tonight."

"I should get some rest?" Nagi raised an eyebrow at him. "And what will you be doing? You're so tired you didn't even know where you were coming in here, did you?"

"I need to get the reports written," Mamoru said, shaking his head. He veered towards the kitchen, intending to make himself some coffee. Very strong coffee. Thank the gods for that espresso machine he'd bought last summer.

He was brought up short when he walked straight into what felt like a solid wall. For a confused moment he thought perhaps he had hit the wall, that he was so tired he'd missed the doorway despite being able to navigate this place perfectly well in the pitch dark. Then he blinked and looked again, and realized there was nothing but empty space in front of him.

Seemingly empty space. Because when he lifted a hand and pushed, he encountered very solid resistance that could only be coming from one source. "Nagi, what are you doing?" he asked, sighing.

"The only one who reads those reports is you," Nagi pointed out, still standing near the door with his arms crossed. Only the faintest fluttering of his clothes and hair in a wind that didn't exist betrayed the fact that he was using his powers. He'd regained all the control he'd lost after the collapse of the Estet Citadel, and then some.

"They still have to get written, and if I don't do them now I'll forget details," Mamoru retorted. "Besides, if I let myself slide out of them this once, it will be that much easier to do again later when I don't feel like doing them."

"I'll jog your memory tomorrow," Nagi promised, shaking his head slightly. "You went through a hell of a lot tonight, emotionally. You need a chance to recover."

He flicked his fingers slightly, and Mamoru stumbled as the unseen force pushed him away from the kitchen. He didn't struggle, knowing it was useless. If Nagi wanted him to go somewhere, he would end up going there. He'd rather not lose every shred of dignity on the way. "I can't believe you have any strength left to waste on something like this," he muttered, glaring at his bodyguard and sometimes friend as he was herded across the room.

The flicker of a smile flirted across Nagi's lips, and his visible eye was shining brightly with amusement. "You know what your problem is? You're as bad as Crawford. You always have to be in control of everything."

"I do not," Mamoru objected, rolling his eyes. "I have nothing at all in common with Brad Crawford, thank you very much. Being the head of Kritiker is something I take seriously, that's all."

"Too seriously." Nagi gestured again, and the door to Omi's bedroom opened to allow him to pass through it. "You never relax, never let your guard down, even when you're alone. You work like crazy to try to control or anticipate every little variable, so that nobody will get hurt. And then you blame yourself for the inevitable when someone gets hurt anyway. Even Crawford is wrong sometimes, and he's a precog. You have no chance."

"That just makes it all the more imperative that I..." Mamoru's jaw locked shut in mid-sentence, and no matter how he struggled he wasn't able to open it again. He made an infuriated noise and glared at the other man. Now he was starting to lose patience. Nagi was taking this too far.

"I'm your bodyguard, aren't I?" Nagi said, seemingly unperturbed by Mamoru's attempt to glare him to death. "That's what you pay me for. I'm protecting you from yourself. You need to relax - and to stop trying to control everything. So," he smirked, and there was a wicked gleam in his eyes. "I'm going to take control away from you."

Since he was unable to speak, Mamoru decided a rude gesture would adequately convey his opinion of that plan. His hand twitched at his side, but that was it. Surprised, he tried again, fighting to lift his hand. This time he didn't even get a twitch.

Now panic rose up and threatened to choke him. He throttled it ruthlessly, refusing to allow the emotion to consume him, but he could feel it simmering just below the surface of his calm. Mamoru hated being restrained and unable to defend himself.

"Do you trust me?"

Nagi's voice came from much closer than he'd expected, and Mamoru looked up to find the younger man had moved closer while Mamoru was absorbed in his futile struggle. There was an odd half smile on Nagi's face, and that wicked light in his eyes was still there.

Despite himself Mamoru thought of all the times they'd fought each other as enemies in the past. Nagi had seen Schwartz for the first time tonight in years - and Schuldig was a telepath, it was entirely possible there had been private conversations going on that Mamoru had no way of knowing about. Crawford and Schuldig could have convinced Nagi to come back to them, or even just taken his mind over and be using him unwillingly. It would be the perfect way for them to strike at Mamoru...

With an effort Mamoru shoved those thoughts aside. Nagi showed no sign of being controlled, and that was the only way Mamoru would believe the younger man would strike out at him. There was too much between them, past and present, for him not to trust Nagi.

His answer must have shown in his eyes, because Nagi's smile widened slightly and he nodded. "Good. Keep that in mind."

Then he shoved Mamoru back into the wall, hard enough to make the pictures rattle. Mamoru's breath escaped him in a whoosh, and he fought back reflexively. He still couldn't move, though he was a little relieved to find that he was able to draw breath again with no trouble.

At least, he was until Nagi leaned in and sealed their lips together, kissing him hard enough to steal his breath all over again. Mamoru would have struggled, would have pushed him away in shock, but Nagi's power kept him locked helplessly in place.

He also couldn't have returned the kiss even if he'd wanted to. After a moment Nagi lifted his head again, still with that enigmatic little smile. "Hmm, I think that would be more fun if you could participate," he murmured, backing off just enough that Mamoru could see him without crossing his eyes. "Maybe later. If I release you now, you'll just start arguing again."

Mamoru made a confused noise, still reeling a bit with shock. Their relationship wasn't like that and never had been; they were certainly more than just bodyguard and master, but even at the moments when they were closest to truly being friends, they had never crossed this line.

Not that he hadn't thought about it. Oh, just a few hundred times. Nagi as a youth had been almost pretty, in a delicate and deadly sort of way. When Mamoru had encountered him later in Europe, he'd been a wreck, physically and emotionally. But now that he'd regained his strength, his powers, and his confidence... he was breathtakingly gorgeous.

But Mamoru valued Nagi too much to risk fucking things up by making a move on him. Especially in the beginning, when things had been so uncertain between them, he'd been afraid that Nagi would take it the wrong way, think that it was a condition on Mamoru allowing him to stay. And as far as he could tell, Nagi had never so much as looked at him like that in the entire time they'd known each other.

"Why am I doing this?" Nagi correctly interpreted his shock, and laughed softly. "Because I'm tired of waiting for you to make the first damned move. I've been waiting for months, but I should have remembered that you're kind of the passive aggressive type. For all that you're a good leader and you try so hard to be in control of everything, you don't seem to ever take control unless it's forced on you. So I figured I'd see if you liked having it taken away, instead."

This time the noise Mamoru made was slightly outraged. Here he'd been forcing himself to be virtuous, and he hadn't needed to? Nagi had given him no sign that he would welcome an advance. He wasn't any kind of psychic, let alone a telepath, so how could he have known?

But that was a concern for another moment, he decided. Because right now the most important thing for him to concentrate on was the way the front of his pants were slowly undoing themselves, easing the pressure against the raging erection that had sprung into being the moment Nagi kissed him. Cool air kissed his skin as his pants and underwear slid down over his hips, and it provided a sharp contrast to the heat of Nagi's hand as he wrapped his fingers around Mamoru's cock.

Groaning, Mamoru tried to rock up into the touch. Once again he didn't even twitch, held rigid by Nagi's power. He might as well have been a statue as Nagi teased him with fingers and thumb. Even his cock was still, though from the heat streaking through his body and pooling in his groin, it would have been jumping otherwise.

"Seems like you're enjoying yourself to me," Nagi murmured, and kissed Mamoru briefly again. Then he dropped to his knees, sliding his whole body against Mamoru's, until he could wrap his lips over the head of Mamoru's cock.

The hissing growl that escaped him was the only response Mamoru could make with his jaws locked shut. He wanted to throw his head back against the wall and close his eyes, wanted to rock his hips up until his whole length was engulfed in that sinful heat. He could feel his muscles straining with the effort to move, but Nagi's grip on him didn't waver.

It was bizarre, not being able to make any movement at all. Mamoru hadn't realized how much he shifted even when he thought he was holding still. Without the tiny adjustments he would normally have made to find the position of greatest pleasure, he was completely at Nagi's mercy.

If 'mercy' was the right word. The younger man obviously knew exactly what he was doing, his lips and clever tongue stroking along Mamoru's length, sucking and nibbling at his cock like a piece of candy. He seemed to take great delight in finding the places that made Mamoru moan the loudest, and then tormenting them.

Pleasure wound tight inside him, and he was all but vibrating with the need to move. If he could have he'd have been begging, and never mind his pride. Nagi continued to torture him, slowing his pace and dragging it out until Mamoru was screaming behind clenched teeth with frustration.

In the end even Nagi couldn't hold off the inevitable, however. Mamoru came so hard his vision swam and black spots danced in front of his eyes - though that might also have been from the difficulty he was having getting enough air.

Nagi swallowed it easily, licking the last traces off his too-sensitive skin. Mamoru moaned, but that was the only protest he could make. His muscles had all turned to water, and he was fairly certain that Nagi's power was now the only thing keeping him upright. He'd have been embarrassed, if he weren't so completely wrung out.

He felt himself being lifted and turned to lie on a soft surface. Only then did he realize that he'd closed his eyes. Half a second later came the realization that he'd been able to close his eyes. Sure enough when he opened his eyes and tried to turn his head, there was nothing stopping him. He saw Nagi standing beside his bed, still with that strange half-smile on his face, but the look in his eyes now uncharacteristically soft.

"What..." Mamoru's voice had gone hoarse, and he coughed to clear his throat. He could feel the heat in his cheeks as he continued, and he cursed the easy blush reflex that still haunted him. "What are you doing?" Exhaustion was dragging at him, sleep singing a siren song that tempted him to close his eyes again, just for a minute. He fought it, needing to put his world back in order before he slept. It had been shattered almost beyond recognition today, first by the fight and now this.

"Putting you to bed," Nagi said, amusement clear in his voice. "If you manage to stay awake for another five minutes, I'll be impressed. At least I got you to relax."

It was true, Mamoru realized. Much of the seemingly permanent tension in his body was gone, and the stress headache that throbbed constantly in his temples had eased. "But..." he protested, not quite certain what he wanted to say but knowing that he couldn't leave things as they were. Nagi was still fully clothed, but he could see the strain of the younger man's pants over his erection. He was not unaffected by what he'd done to Mamoru, clearly. At the very least, Mamoru felt it wasn't fair to leave things as they were.

But Nagi was shaking his head. "We're both wiped out," he murmured. "We'll talk about it later. Now you know, and that's the important thing."

He turned to leave, but Mamoru was determined not to leave it at that. He caught Nagi's shirt and tugged hard, pulling the younger man down beside the bed. Nagi could easily have broken free, of course, but he didn't fight Mamoru's hold. He knelt on the floor, watching Mamoru with a puzzled look on his face.

Mamoru leaned in and kissed him properly, savouring the taste and feel of the other man now that he was free to participate. Nagi moaned faintly and kissed him back with equal enthusiasm.

If he'd had even an ounce of energy left, Mamoru would have pulled Nagi right down onto the bed and proved that he was not always the 'passive aggressive type'. But Nagi was right that he could barely keep his eyes open, and he could feel the fine tremors in Nagi's body that meant the other man had pushed himself to the limits of his powers. Mamoru didn't even have the strength to scold Nagi for wasting his strength the way he had.

Instead he released Nagi, but he could feel the smile stretching his lips. "We'll talk about it later," he repeated, making the words as full of promise as he could.

Nagi nodded and stood to leave. In the doorway he paused, looking back over his shoulder with one hand on the light switch. "Next time I think maybe I'll leave your head free, so I can hear you scream properly," he said, his voice practically a purr. "Sleep well, Mamoru."

Mamoru threw a pillow at him, but Nagi just dodged it and shut the door behind himself, laughing softly.

[Fic] Kink Bingo: Fisting - Nox/Tsukiyomi

2009-08-18T16:48:38Z

Ffff, why are half my KB fics coming out at least semi-het? I'm going to have to turn in my yaoi membership card at this rate. Ironically I think this might have ended up being rougher sex than my planned 'rough sex' kink fic. *snrks* Yay for demon sex?

It's been a long, LONG time since I played Shadow Hearts, so forgive me if I get any details wrong.

Kink: Fisting
Series: Shadow Hearts: Covenant
Pairing: Nox/Tsukiyomi (and therefore Yuri/Kurando)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: It's a fic for kink bingo. It's kinky, and X-rated. Nuff said.
Length: 4550

There are still times when Yuri's demons surprise him.

The stench of sulphur was almost overpowering, making Yuri wrinkle his nose as he walked up to the water. "Man, it stinks," he complained. "These hot springs of yours better be worth it, Kurando."

His cousin was staring at the water with an absent expression, and for a moment Yuri thought he wasn't going to answer. Then Kurando blinked and shook his head, and turned to look at Yuri. "Trust me, it's worth it," the younger man said, smiling.

Kurando moved to disrobe, and Yuri hastily looked away. He still wasn't sure about this whole bathing in public thing. The Japanese as a whole seemed awfully comfortable with getting naked around each other. At least it was just the two of them. Yuri hadn't been quite at ease with Joachim since the horrors of the Man Tournament. If the wrestler had been there, Yuri would have spent the whole time nervous that he was looking.

Judging by Kurando's puppy crush on Anastasia, though, the kid was totally straight. Holding that reassuring thought firmly in his mind, Yuri was able to convince himself to ditch his clothes as well.

He stepped into the water quickly, hissing as the heat of it struck him like a fist. Kurando hadn't been kidding about how hot it would be. Yuri could feel his fire demons wallowing in it, while the water demons were revelling in being submerged. It wasn't often he got to experience those two sets being happy at the same time.

"Well, my demons are enjoying themselves," he commented, looking around for somewhere to sit. The hot spring was huge, and the air temperature was cold enough that steam floated over the water in clouds, making it difficult to see the edges. To his surprise, he thought he caught a glimpse of Kurando staring at him with a dumbstruck expression. Yuri checked behind him quickly, half expecting to see a monster looming over him, but there was nothing there. He glanced down, but there was nothing about his body that should have shocked Kurando. He had some viciously nasty scars, sure, but the kid had seen them before.

When he looked up again, Kurando had his eyes closed and was leaning back against the rocks, apparently oblivious. Maybe the steam fooled me into thinking he was looking? Yeah, that's gotta be it.

Although Kurando's cheeks were awfully pink...

Damn it, now I'm just being paranoid. Yuri cursed under his breath and settled down against a rock that was close enough to Kurando for easy conversation, but far enough that wisps of steam helped screen them from each other's sight.

Almost immediately Yuri felt the tense muscles in his back and shoulders relaxing, as the hot water worked its promised magic. With a contented sigh Yuri leaned back and slid down until the water was right up to his chin.

"Yeah, okay, you were right," he murmured. "It is worth it." Already his nose was starting to go numb, and the sulphur smell didn't seem so bad.

"Hmm?" Kurando's reply came a heartbeat too late, and he sounded distracted. Yuri peered at him through the steam, and saw the younger man rubbing at his face. "Oh. I told you so." When he looked back at Yuri, his eyes didn't seem to be quite focused, and his voice was dreamy.

"Hey, you all right?" Yuri asked him, a little concerned. "You're not overheated already, are you?" The water was hot, but not that hot. And Kurando had said that he came here all the time, he should have been used to it.

"No. Of course not." Kurando shook his head again, and seemed to make an effort to be more aware. "Sorry, I'm having a hard time concentrating today. Tsukiyomi's been restless since this morning, and it's getting worse."

"Huh." Yuri reached inside himself, not going all the way into the graveyard but sort of 'peeking' to see what his crowd were up to. The fire and water types were enjoying themselves as he'd noticed earlier. The dark types, Nox in particular, were close to the surface, but they didn't seem restless, exactly. Just... interested. In what, Yuri wasn't sure, and they weren't saying. All the others seemed perfectly normal.

"Mine are fine," he said, opening his eyes again and shrugging.

"If anything, Jutendouji is quieter than usual, so I don't think it's anything external," Kurando confirmed. "It's just Tsukiyomi. Do you think something is wrong?"

"Nah, they just get like that sometimes," Yuri said. "We haven't had any battles in a while, maybe Tsukiyomi's bored."

"I'd have expected Jutendouji to be the one giving me trouble, in that case," Kurando said dryly. He did seem reassured, relaxing visibly. "I'm sure you're right, it's nothing."

Yuri forgot sometimes that Kurando was still new to the whole Harmonixer thing, that the younger man hadn't even believed he'd inherited the power until just a few weeks ago. He remembered his own early days, how strange and confusing it had been to have this other him living in the back of his head, part of him and yet separate, alien. Kurando understood what was happening to him and had people who could tell him what to expect, where Yuri had been completely on his own, but still. That initial adjustment period was a bitch.

"I'm sure it'll settle down," Yuri said, putting as much reassurance into his voice as he knew how. Playing the comforting big brother role felt a little weird, but it was also a little nice. It really drove home the fact that he had family again; someone who could actually understand some of the shit he'd been through, and not just sympathise.

Kurando nodded and smiled at him, a bright expression that reminded Yuri how young his cousin still was. Leaning back against his rock again, Kurando closed his eyes.

Only to sit bolt upright an instant later, at the same moment that all of Yuri's instincts started screaming at him that danger was near. Water splashed everywhere as they scrambled to their feet, and Yuri forgot to be embarrassed by their nudity as a small horde of monster appeared out of the steam.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Yuri muttered, seeing the monsters take shape. They were all incredibly weak creatures, things that he hadn't seen since leaving France. "Duckies? Gimme a break."

"I suppose they are appropriate to the setting," Kurando said, a thread of laughter in his voice. "At least we should be able to handle them, even with just the two of us."

"Bet I can kill more than you," Yuri taunted him. He reached automatically for his gloves, only to curse as he remembered they were sitting with the rest of his gear, on the other side of the hot springs.

"I'll take that bet," Kurando replied promptly. His smile said he hadn't missed Yuri's slip. He held one hand in front of him and concentrated briefly. There was a blur of light, and suddenly Tsukiyomi was looming over him where Kurando had been a moment before.

"Show-off," Yuri grumbled, reaching for the power of his own demons. If there was one thing he could have resented Kurando for, it was the other Harmonixer's easy transformations.

Enjoying the heat or not, Yuri's fire demons flatly refused to come out while he was standing in water up to his hips. He could have forced them, but it would piss them off and it wasn't worth the effort. The water demons would have seemed the obvious choice, but for some reason Amon was suddenly clamouring for release.

"Pfft, that'd be like asking Joachim to swat a fly. Overkill, much?" Yuri reached for Nox instead.

For once the demon didn't fight him, rushing to the surface with a feeling of anticipation that made Yuri nervous. It was too late to change his mind now; Yuri could feel Nox taking control.

It wasn't quite like being possessed, and it wasn't like being out of control of himself. He was still him, still Yuri, but also other, also Nox. It was a bit like getting drunk, when things that would horrify his rational self suddenly seemed to make perfect sense and his perspective of the world shifted.

He'd intended to wade straight into the fray, but something else caught his attention the moment the transformation was complete. There was a scent hanging in the air, noticeable even over the masking stench of the sulphur; an intoxicating, addicting scent that went to his head faster than the strongest alcohol he'd ever drunk. Nox cocked his head and drew in a deep breath of air, letting the scent roll over his tongue until it was a taste as well.

Tsukiyomi was cutting a swath of destruction through the enemies, her razor-sharp rings of light flying almost faster than the eye could see, her haunting voice crooning a spell and calling a destructive rain of light down on the monsters. Nox watched her, entranced. She was beautiful; deadly and vicious, graceful and skilled. He'd never seen anything quite like it before. Every time she passed near him, that amazing scent pulled at him again.

He wanted to get closer.

He wanted more.

He wanted...

Wanted...

Her.

The moment the desire crystallized, he was moving. He intercepted her next blow, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her close, ignoring the deadly light rings that hovered around her. She gave a musical snarl and struggled, blasting him with a wave of light that he countered with his own darkness. She screamed, a spiralling arpeggio of sound, and lashed out at him with the rings.

Ducking under her first strike, he caught her other wrist, then swept her legs out from under her. They both went tumbling down into the spring, steam and water scattering all around them. She fought, clawing and kicking at him with all her strength, but the water slowed her limbs and kept her from landing a serious blow.

Nox laughed when they surfaced for air, still battling. "What's wrong, pretty?" he taunted. "Feeling the itch? I can make it all better for you."

She hissed at him and squirmed, and he knew he was right. Oh, she wanted it all right, needed it bad, but she was too young and inexperienced to know anything but that she ached for something. Bloodlust was almost enough to sate her, but in the end it only made it worse.

She was bigger than him and more powerful magically, but he was stronger and he knew how to fight dirty. Kurando and his samurai honour couldn't hold a candle to Yuri's years of street fighting and bar brawling. He wrapped one arm around hers and wrenched it painfully, turning her so he was pressed tight against her back and she couldn't kick at him easily. He bit her neck and she screamed again, enraged beyond words by anger and need.

Then he kicked her feet apart and slid his hand between her legs, and she froze. He smirked against her neck and worked his hand lower, feeling along the armoured plates of her body for the opening he knew would be there somewhere. He was rewarded by the discovery of soft flesh as one plate shifted aside, flesh that gave way beneath his probing fingers and revealed a tight, hot passage.

Tsukiyomi moaned and leaned against him, rocking her hips to give him better access. "Told you I could make it better," Nox murmured, triumphant. He worked his fingers deeper, revelling in the way she trembled against him.

When she finally stopped fighting, he could tell by the way she relaxed and let him support most of her weight. That was the opening he'd been waiting for. He shoved her abruptly, putting her off balance and sending her stumbling forward. Of course that meant he had to take his hand away from her, and she snarled and started struggling again, outraged.

He pushed again, and again, keeping her under control by darting his hand in for a brief caress any time it looked like she might get away from him. Every time it made her moan and go limp for an instant, just long enough for him to get the upper hand again.

Then he had her up against a large rock, right where he wanted her. He bent her over and shoved hard with one hand between her shoulders, pinning her to the rough surface. She struggled, panting and growling, until he reached down and ran his fingers over her entrance again. Then she stilled, keening softly in the back of her throat.

"You're mine," Nox growled, and positioned himself. She had one second to scream again when he removed his hand, and then she was screaming for an entirely different reason as he thrust his cock home inside her. Her body squeezed him so tightly he thought he might die from the pleasure. She wasn't wet like a human girl, but the water and heavier liquid that might have been blood helped ease his passage.

She squirmed and fought, kicking at him and clawing at the rock, her talons carving deep grooves into the solid stone. He stayed where he was, pinning her with his weight against her back, enjoying her intense frustration. Finally he took pity on her and gave in to the urging of his own body, pulling back and slamming into her again.

That set the pace, fast and brutally strong, his hands at her hips holding her down and probably leaving finger-shaped bruises behind. Tsukiyomi continued to struggle, but now instead of fighting to get away she was fighting to get closer, to rock her hips up into each thrust and get more of him inside her. Nox didn't care that he was probably hurting her, didn't care that Yuri was going to freak out when he came back to his senses, didn't care about anything but the fucking God pleasure that driving into her gave him.

Yuri hadn't so much as looked at a girl since Alice had died; he who had once had a private mission to get under the skirt of every pretty girl he ever encountered. Kurando was such an innocent he'd probably never been touched, or touched anyone else. As far as Nox was concerned, it was all a bunch of stupid human moral crap, anyway. They both needed it, and he was happy to help Tsukiyomi give it to them.

He felt his balls draw up close to his body and go tight, and with a growl he slammed into her one last time, the hardest thrust yet, crushing her against the rock as he came. His cock pulsed and twitched inside her body, and it felt like his very soul was pouring out of him.

Still Tsukiyomi continued to squirm and writhe beneath him, her keening cries rising into something closer to a shriek when he didn't stir. She bucked her hips, trying to get him to thrust again, but only succeeded in making his softening cock slip free of her body completely. She screamed and clawed at the rock, sending chips of stone flying into the water.

Grunting as a particularly violent twist made her grind against his oversensitive cock, Nox firmed his grip and pinned her down again. She cried and shrieked and shook against him, struggling, and he finally took pity on her.

Sliding his hand down, he pushed into her with his fingers. After taking his brutal thrusts her passage was looser, easily taking two fingers, even three when he added one. Her cries changed to growls again, but she continued to buck and writhe. He didn't need to hear the words to know she was begging for more.

Well, he could give her more. Adding a fourth finger was harder, and he could feel the flesh straining against him a bit, trying to push the intrusion out even as she rocked her hips back, trying to force him in. She was definitely bleeding, the coppery scent of it hanging over the sulphur, adding more wetness to ease the movement of his flesh against hers. He pushed harder, until his hand was halfway inside her, and then pushed some more. Tucking his thumb into his palm, he forced the widest part of his hand past the tight flesh, ignoring her renewed cries.

For a moment he wasn't certain it would work; he half thought he might tear her open instead. Then something gave beneath the pressure and he was past the opening, and the worst of the constriction eased.

Tsukiyomi was panting now, lying still against the rock, not crying or struggling but just looking back at him over her shoulder. It was hard to read her alien features, but he thought her expression was equal parts wariness and need. Giving her a smile with too many teeth in return, he pushed the rest of his hand inside her.

Then he curled his fingers into a fist, and twisted his hand.

She shrieked loud enough to split the heavens, and clawed at the rock again. He might have thought it was a protest, but for the way she rocked her hips against him, matching his movements inside. He thrust with his fist, giving her the feeling of fullness and fulfillment that she'd wanted so badly, and his reward was the most beautiful screaming he'd ever heard.

Finally the screams turned to cries, and the cries to whimpers. Tsukiyomi collapsed to lie boneless and limp, draped over the rock. She was panting hard and he could feel her heartbeat in the delicate flesh against his hand, rapid and fluttering. Slowly he withdrew, revelling in her shudder as he forced his hand past the tight spot again.

She whimpered louder when he grabbed her hips and repositioned her, but she didn't fight him. Nox was hard and ready once more, aroused beyond belief by her sweet screams and the thrill of her pleasure. He thrust inside her once more, but this time her body didn't squeeze him so wonderfully. He was far from small, but his fist was larger still, and he growled as he realized he'd loosened her up.

Then she shuddered and mewled as light gathered around her body, and she shrank around him until the flesh was tight against Nox's cock once again. Kurando moaned softly, lying half senseless on the rock, not fighting as Nox began to thrust into him. It didn't matter to the demon which form the body he used was wearing, or which hole he was pounding into. It felt good, that was the only thing Nox cared about.

By the time he was sated, Kurando had gone completely still beneath him. Nox collapsed down on top of the smaller man, breathing hard and only partly aware anything else through the glow of orgasm.

They stayed there like that for a long moment, before Yuri finally stirred and looked around him. Sense was slowly returning to him - human sense, that was; his mind completely his own once again as Nox receded within him. When realization of what he'd done truly hit him, Yuri swore and pushed away from his cousin so hard he fell back into the water with a splash.

Kurando groaned and stirred slightly, which relieved one tiny part of Yuri's panic. He hadn't killed the other Harmonixer, at least. That was something, though against the rest of his sins it was hardly a drop in the bucket.

"Kurando?" Yuri said hesitantly, his voice hoarse with fear and horror. "Are... are you..." He swallowed hard and stopped. Asking if the other man was okay seemed the height of stupidity, after what he'd just done.

With another groan Kurando shifted, partially turning himself so that he could see Yuri. Unfortunately the move unbalanced him and sent him sliding off the rock. A startled look crossed his face as his legs refused to support him, and it changed into a wince as he ended up sitting in the water. "Ow," he mumbled, his face going bright red. He couldn't seem to quite look Yuri in the eye.

Hell, it was a miracle he wasn't screaming or cursing Yuri out. Probably the only reason he wasn't running for it - or trying to kill Yuri - was that he hurt too bad to move.

"Kurando, I'm... I...," Yuri stammered, completely at a loss. How did you even begin to apologize for... for...

"Well, that's one way of dealing with restless demons," Kurando muttered, running a shaking hand over his face and pushing his damp hair back out of his eyes. He glanced up through his bangs, and to Yuri's shock his expression was mostly chagrin and a sort of rueful, resigned amusement. "Not quite the way I would have picked, but..."

He actually looked at Yuri, and his expression turned first startled, and then dismayed. "Oh, gods. Yuri, I'm sorry. Don't look at me like that, please!"

"You're sorry?" Yuri's voice cracked, and now he was the one that had to look away. "For what? I just r-raped you, idiot!"

"You can't rape the willing," Kurando muttered, face going redder still. "Tsukiyomi was definitely willing. Which means I guess some part of me was, too."

Yuri didn't want to think too hard about that, since the corollary was that some part of him had been willing to back what Nox had done. He knew there was darkness in his soul, but he didn't want to admit it was that kind of darkness, that he could take it that far. "We should go back," he said, half babbling and not really caring. "To the others. In case it happ... uh. Lemme get your clothes. Or something." No, he was not going to think about it happening again, let alone talk about it!

"I'd really rather just sit here for a minute," Kurando said, looking pained at the thought of moving.

Or maybe just pained, Yuri realized belatedly, as he remembered the scent and feel of blood. "Shit, you're hurt. Damn it!" He glanced around, as if healing items would magically appear out of thin air. They hadn't brought anything to the springs, not expecting any trouble. At least the last of the monsters had vanished, probably wisely getting out of the way of the two 'fighting' demons.

"I'm fine," Kurando immediately denied. He shifted and winced, biting his lip. "Okay, I'll be fine," he amended, a bit breathlessly.

"Bullshit," Yuri accused him, sure of this much if nothing else.

Kurando glared. "The only healing magic I have is Tsukiyomi's, Yuri. I'm not transforming again."

Yuri blanched at the thought, and shook his head rapidly. "Oh, hell no. No, no, no. And neither am I. Fuck. I'll... uh, go get Karen, I guess. Tell her we were attacked and you're hurt. She doesn't have to know..."

He tried to stand, and nearly collapsed again. Only a quick grab at another nearby rock saved him. He swore again as he realized how shaky and drained he was. He might not be hurt the way Kurando was, but he wasn't exactly in stellar shape, either.

"Sit down before you fall over," Kurando said wearily. "We both just need to recover for a minute. I'm just sore, I'm not going to bleed out." He looked down, and added softly, "If you really can't stand to be near me now..."

"No!" The denial was reflexive, but once he'd said it Yuri realized it was true. As mortifying, as horrible as this had been, Yuri didn't want to lose that sense of family that he'd just been beginning to enjoy. If Kurando was, impossibly, willing to forgive him... Yuri was willing to be forgiven.

But he would never, ever forgive himself.

"No," he repeated more gently. "Kurando, it's not that. Really. I just... don't ever want to do anything like that to you, ever again."

Kurando ducked his head a little further, and mumbled something. Yuri shook his head, certain he had water in his ears. There was absolutely no way his cousin had said 'I wouldn't mind'.

They sat there for a few minutes, the heat soaking into Yuri's weary body, easing the tension in his muscles despite his continued distress. Kurando was still blushing and still wasn't meeting his eyes, but when he shifted and his foot brushed against Yuri's, he didn't jerk away. That willingness to touch relieved no few of Yuri's worries.

"Do demons go into heat or something?" Kurando asked, hesitantly, after a long and awkward silence. "I mean... Tsukiyomi was so restless all day, and now this... we've used Nox and Tsukiyomi together before, nothing like this has ever happened."

"Into heat? You mean, like..." Yuri snapped his head up and stared, dumbfounded. He remembered the intoxicating scent that had overwhelmed him when he'd first transformed, and the way Nox had so abruptly fixated on Tsukiyomi. "I... I've never had it happen, but..." Or had he? There had been times when his demons had been restless, exactly the same way Kurando had described. But there had never been another Harmonixer around. He shuddered at the thought.

But no, all of his demons were male. Going into heat implied... Yuri lost what little colour he'd had left. "Fuck, you think they're trying to... to reproduce?" The thought of demon babies was terrifying. The thought of Kurando having his demon babies was revolting.

To his surprise, his cousin was giving him a sardonic look. "I'm pretty sure even demons need a male and a female to reproduce, Yuri," Kurando said, rolling his eyes. "I keep meaning to talk to you about that."

"About demons having babies?" Yuri asked, blankly. "What do you mean, they need a guy and a girl? I mean, obviously, but Tsukiyomi..."

"Is as male as I am, thank you very much," Kurando snapped, glaring at him. "Tsukiyomi is the god of the moon, not the goddess."

"But... but..." Yuri sputtered, completely thrown off. "But what about..." he gestured vaguely at his chest, making a curvy shape.

"Your light demons aren't much better," Kurando retorted. "I don't know, light types are just androgynous, or something. He's male. Or did you not notice what you were doing to me when I transformed again?"

Yuri was dumbfounded for the second time in as many minutes. He hadn't really thought about it; he hadn't been letting himself think about it, but of course Kurando was right. The tightness, the lack of wetness... he'd thought it was because Tsukiyomi was just different from a human, but it made just as much sense if he hadn't been fucking the hole he'd thought he'd been fucking...

Groaning, he buried his face in his hands. The worst of it was, now that it had been pointed out to him, he was pretty sure he'd at least subconsciously been aware of it all along. Which meant there was a part of him, somewhere deep inside, that hadn't minded screwing a guy in the least. That had enjoyed it. That maybe, maybe, even wanted to do it again.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Nox was laughing at him. Yuri had a feeling he wasn't going to stop for a long, long time.

[Fic] Kink Bingo: Genital Torture - Ichigo/Ishida

2009-08-07T00:52:07Z

BINGO!

Kink: Genital Torture
Series: Bleach
Pairing: Ichigo/Ishida
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: It's a fic for kink bingo. It's kinky, and X-rated. Nuff said.
Length: 1229

Some days he wondered how close to the surface Ichigo's hollow really was.

Though it would have taken torture to get him to admit it, Uryuu did trust Ichigo. Trusted him with his life, trusted him with his soul, trusted him - and even torture would not have made him admit this - with his heart.

But there were moments... when he caught a flash of black in the other teen's eyes, when Ichigo's smile stretched just a bit wider than it should have been able to, when a cruel expression flitted over his face... there were moments when Ishida wasn't sure he trusted Ichigo with his body. Some days he wondered how close to the surface Ichigo's hollow really was.

Especially when he was pinned down, naked and helpless, and Ichigo was eyeing him more like a meal than a sex object.

"Kurosaki..." The warning he'd intended to give fell rather flat when Ichigo grabbed his cock and stroked him hard, and the rest of Uryuu's words were lost in a rush of air.

"Relax, Ishida," Ichigo said. There was a faint edge to his voice, a hint of mocking, overtones and harmonics that Uryuu had heard before. "There's nothing you can do, so you might as well enjoy it."

The words had not been intended to instil faith in him, Uryuu was certain. Quite the opposite. He squirmed and tried again to get free, but even one-handed Ichigo was easily able to grip his wrists and keep them stretched out above his head. Ichigo had all the leverage, and to add insult to injury outweighed him by quite a lot, all of it pure muscle.

His heart was pounding with an equal mix of nerves and lust. Uryuu kept a wary eye on Ichigo's face, watching for the first hint of a mask's outline that would tell him this had gone too far. There was nothing there, not yet, but Uryuu could feel the other teen's reiatsu rising.

"Scared?" Ichigo taunted him. Before Uryuu could answer, he squeezed down hard on Uryuu's cock, painfully tight.

Uryuu's breath hissed out between his teeth, and he went very still. "Kurosaki, you're hurting me."

"You can handle it," Ichigo said, casual and confident. "You take worse than this in battle and don't even notice it." He eased up, but then shifted his hand down so he could wrap his fingers around Ishida's balls, as well. He squeezed again, and this time Uryuu couldn't stop a grunt of pain from escaping him.

"That doesn't mean I enjoy it," Uryuu protested when he recovered his control. He would not cry out, he would not. It would just encourage the bastard, egg him on.

The smile that spread over Ichigo's face had the same dangerous edge to it as his voice, too hard and bright and wide to be real. Just this side of sanity - and Uryuu wasn't sure which side of the line they were currently on.

"You will," Ichigo purred, the eerie resonance in his voice turning the husky sound evil.

He released Uryuu with both hands, but before Uryuu could register and take advantage of the fact that his arms were free, Ichigo had scooted down and taken Uryuu's cock into his mouth. The soft, wet heat of him felt sinfully good, but it was the warning edge of teeth against his tip that made Uryuu go utterly still.

Ichigo made a growling sound that somehow managed to convey satisfaction along with threat. He lowered his head further and sucked hard in a way that made Uryuu moan helplessly. Then he gasped, because Ichigo had let him feel the edge of his teeth again, scraping hard against the side of his shaft.

"Fuck, Kurosaki," he breathed out, trembling on the edge of pleasure and pain. Ichigo took a little more of him into his mouth, and bit down a little harder, keeping him balanced perfectly between two extremes.

He could have fought, could have beaten Ichigo off him and gotten away. He could have, but he didn't. Not because Ichigo could hurt him before he got loose, though that was certainly true. Not because Uryuu didn't want to hurt him in turn, which he would certainly have to in order to get free. Not because Uryuu was afraid that leaving now would mean losing Ichigo for good.

No, he didn't fight because Ichigo was right, the bastard. The skittering thrill of not knowing whether Ichigo would take it that little bit too far added an element of danger to the whole thing, making his heart pound that much faster and his cock throb that much harder.

Then Ichigo slid the rest of the way down, the tip of Uryuu's cock nestled in the muscles of his throat as he swallowed. At the same moment he twisted his fingers around Uryuu's balls again and tightened them, squeezing viciously enough to make Uryuu break his vow not to cry out.

It hurt, fuck, he'd never felt anything quite like it, not even in his deadliest battles. But at the same time Ichigo was now bobbing his head up and down on Uryuu's cock, licking and sucking and scraping his teeth until the flesh felt ten times as sensitive as it should have been.

Uryuu alternated between whimpers and hoarse shouts, rocking his hips up into Ichigo's mouth, writhing to try to get free of the painful constriction on his balls. Orgasm was building, but coming slower than usual because of the pain mixed with the pleasure. That only made Uryuu all the more aware of it, of the slow coil winding tight in his gut and the liquid fire worming its way through his veins.

Then Ichigo stopped moving abruptly, his mouth just barely covering the tip of Uryuu's cock, though he was doing amazing things with his tongue over the head. Caught right on the threshold of orgasm, Uryuu groaned a protest, and then screamed when Ichigo clamped his teeth down hard. For one heart-shattering moment Uryuu was honestly afraid he intended to bite the head right off.

With panic and lust gripping him in equal measure, Uryuu looked down at the other teen and saw the thing he'd most been dreading. The eyes that looked back at him were black and gold, not white and amber. Ichigo's cruel expression promised that he'd only begun to explore what 'agony' really meant.

Terror shot through Uryuu, adrenalin pumping through his body and bringing every nerve to full alert. In that instant Ichigo dragged the tip of his tongue hard over Uryuu's slit, and released his grip with fingers and teeth completely, leaving only pleasure to overwhelm him in a crashing tsunami wave.

The world spun and went black, and Uryuu screamed again as he came.

For a moment afterward, he thought he'd gone blind. For a moment, he thought he was dead. Then he realized he'd closed his eyes at some point, and forced them open with a groan.

Ichigo had settled beside him, smirking and generally looking very pleased with himself. Uryuu stared into his perfectly normal, human eyes, and saw only the smug satisfaction of a teenaged male who'd made his partner come hard enough to see stars.

Some days, he really did wonder how close to the surface the hollow was.

Other days, he was afraid he already knew the answer.

Today, he wasn't entirely sure it was a bad thing.

[Fic] Kink Bingo: Caning - Raidou

2009-08-05T19:16:06Z

This is set during the first game, right after you defeat the first Red Cape in, uh, Ginza-cho I think it was. No real spoilers for the game. The idea is based on the interview with the game designers in the walkthrough book, where they mention that Raidou's outfit is in fact an accurate representation of what high school boys in Tokyo wore during that period. I have no idea if caning was a common punishment in Japan, but it certainly was in England at that time.

For those not familiar with the Shin Megami Tensei series, 'dia' spells are healing magic, and 'agi' spells are fire magic.

Kink: Caning
Series: Devil Summoner
Pairing: Raidou/Leanan Sidhe
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: It's a fic for kink bingo. It's kinky, and X-rated. Nuff said.
Length: 2975

Who knew skipping school could be as dangerous as going to Dark Tokyo?

The piles of paper fluttered gently, held in place by heavy paperweights despite the breeze coming in from the window. Raidou propped his elbows on the desk and sighed, looking at the seemingly endless stacks. Trust Narumi to find an excuse to leave the filing for him to do. There was so much of it; the older man must not have filed a single thing since Raidou had started working for him.

Not that Raidou had anything better to do. Things had been quiet since he'd defeated that Red Cape. People were already starting to believe the whole thing had been some kind of bizarre mass hallucination. It was amazing what humans could convince themselves of, really. But it left Raidou without any footwork to do for the moment, and he was bored.

"If you don't feel like dealing with paperwork, there is another option," Gouto commented, jumping up onto the desk. He sat and licked at one paw, his ears flicking nonchalantly, but Raidou could tell the cat was watching him carefully.

Raidou raised an eyebrow at his - partner? familiar? he still wasn't sure - and waited. If he played along by asking, Gouto would only draw it out. Gouto might not be a normal cat, but he was definitely a cat nonetheless.

Heaving a sigh, Gouto finally gave it up as a bad cause. "Oh, all right. Since you're too dense to figure it out for yourself. School." Raidou blinked, taken aback, and Gouto's whiskers pointed forward in a smug cat smile. "Yes, that's right, school. That place you're supposed to go on weekdays now that summer is over? That fancy uniform of yours isn't just for attracting the ladies, you know."

Raidou snorted. When exactly had he been attracting any girls? He was too busy chasing down demons in Dark Tokyo to bother with that sort of thing. School was even more of a waste of his time than dating. What could they possibly teach him that would be useful to the fourteenth Raidou?

Still, Gouto had a point that it would be something to do other than paperwork. And he probably ought to at least put in an appearance once in a while, or they'd expel him and then he'd have more problems. He had to keep up some thin facade of being normal, or people would start asking too many questions he couldn't answer.

Sighing again, he pushed away from the desk and turned to hunt down his school bag. He hesitated over his weapons, but finally unbuckled the belt and laid the sword and gun on the desk. He still had his summoning tubes in the unlikely event that he encountered a demon on this side of reality, and the weapons weren't exactly standard school issue.

At least at the school itself, he didn't have to worry about being attacked.

"Perhaps things were done differently in your last school, Kuzunoha, but at this academy we expect a certain level of commitment from our students."

Raidou kept his eyes lowered submissively, hands at his side as he held the slight bow. He could track the headmaster's movement by watching the man's feet pace back and forth in front of him, and the shifting shadows betrayed the expansive gestures the man was making. Raidou was astonished just how worked up the man was getting. All because he'd missed a week of school?

"Our students are some of the best in the city, and we take that very seriously," the headmaster continued, his deep voice resonating with disapproval. "We rely on each and every student to do his part to help keep that reputation spotless. We cannot have our pupils chasing about the city with no regard for the rules, attending classes only when it suits them. Is that clear?"

Cautiously Raidou looked up, and opened his mouth to agree that he understood. The headmaster scowled and made a chopping gesture as if to physically cut him off. "No, I don't want to hear your excuses," the man said. "Take some responsibility, Kuzunoha, don't try to worm your way out of it."

Meekly Raidou returned his eyes to the floor, though inwardly he was calling the man several very uncomplimentary names. He'd never made excuses for his failures in his life. If he were that sort, he'd never have earned the title of Raidou. But trying to argue would only look like he was proving the man right about him.

"Now. I understand your circumstances are... somewhat exceptional," the headmaster continued. "I know that you are an orphan, and that you have special permission to have a job. In no way does that excuse you from your obligations to the school. However, in light of that, I am prepared to grant you one more chance. Are you willing to commit to attending all your classes in the future?"

Relieved that he wasn't going to be expelled after all, Raidou nodded silently. Finding another school, especially one willing to take him with no records and grant him an exception to the rule against having a job, would have been incredibly trying. He'd just have to figure out some way to keep his investigations from interfering with his class schedule.

If only he could politely ask the demons to hold off attacking or kidnapping anyone except on weekends and school holidays. Yeah, right. At least he didn't have to worry about cram school or a sports club commitment.

"Very well. It'll be six of the best, I think, to impress upon you just how serious we consider this offence. Bend over the desk." The headmaster gestured at a wooden desk placed in one corner, which Raidou had always assumed was for those serving detention. He blinked in incomprehension, and the headmaster made an impatient noise as he picked up a curved-handled cane that had been sitting on his blotter. "Don't be insolent, Kuzunoha, or I'll add a stroke for keeping me waiting. Hurry on, now."

After another moment of incredulous staring, Raidou finally accepted that the man intended to beat him. The idea was ludicrous. One portly, aging old man with a cane, inflicting corporal punishment on a Raidou? For missing school while he was out hunting demons so the innocents of the city could go safely about their lives?

It was all he could do to keep himself from laughing in the man's face. Only the strong will and discipline that had allowed him to earn his title kept his face impassive, and he bent over the desk without a word. Without needing to be told he flipped the back of his cape and jacket up out of the way, arranging them carefully so the holsters with his summoning tubes weren't revealed. The teachers had never commented on them, but he didn't want to draw attention to them now.

The headmaster lined up behind him, and Raidou steadied himself by gripping the edges of the desk. The whistling of air past the flexible cane warned him that the first strike was coming, and he braced himself.

The headmaster wasn't sparing him at all, he could tell that much. It stung and burned, like the cane had been enhanced by an agi spell. Raidou grunted and his hands tightened on the edge of the desk. Not from pain, but from restraining his reflexive reaction. His instincts were screaming at him that he was being attacked, and that he needed to deal with his attacker. He was now very grateful that he'd left his sword and gun at the agency, or he might have done something inexcusable without meaning to.

The second strike landed, and this time he managed not to make a sound. Adrenalin raced through his system, his body going into overdrive as it readied him for a battle that he had no intention of fighting. Raidou fought to keep his breathing slow and steady, reminding himself over and over that it was a human striking him, not a demon.

The third stroke landed in the same place as the first, redoubling the pain and burning there. His buttocks throbbed, and he could imagine that to an innocent schoolboy unfamiliar with pain it would be the worst kind of hell imaginable. He'd been hurt far worse than this dealing with demons, but that hardly meant he was enjoying this.

Except that an odd thing happened as the fourth stroke fell. Perhaps because he was depriving it of its natural reaction, or perhaps because for once he was at the receiving end of pain without it being a life or death situation; whatever the reason, his body began to react in a different way. Raidou's eyes went wide, and his breath hissed out between his teeth as his cock throbbed in time with the welts on his backside.

He'd experienced something like this a few times before in easy battles, when the thrill of the fight - sometimes compounded by the effects of a charm spell or two - made his heart pound and the blood rush through his veins in a way that was far more pleasant than painful. Then he'd been able to distract himself with the simple fact that taking his attention off the battle was as good as presenting his throat to the demons. Now, there was nothing for him to fight, nothing for him to focus on except what was happening to him.

The fifth blow landed, a little harder than the others. Raidou's breathing was growing a touch ragged, and he felt lightheaded. The sixth blow was hardest of all, and dizzily Raidou wondered if his lack of outward reaction was irritating the headmaster. Probably by now a normal boy would have been crying from pain.

For a moment the headmaster remained poised behind him, and Raidou wondered if the man was planning to keep going until he did get a reaction. Perhaps Raidou should fake the appropriate response if he did continue. It would sting his pride, but the sooner this was over, the better.

Thankfully it didn't come to that. The headmaster lowered the cane and stepped away. "There, now. I hope this will serve as a valuable lesson to you, Kuzunoha. I don't want to hear of you missing classes again, is that understood?"

Raidou nodded, straightening and tugging his jacket and cape back into position. He kept his head down, more so the man wouldn't see the look in his eyes than out of a proper attitude of submission and servility. He bowed, and turned to go.

Striding through the halls, he was grateful that the cape was long enough to hide the way his pants were stretched tight across the bulge of his erection. He kept his face impassive, but his fists were clenched tight under the cape with the effort it took to keep that perfect control.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," Gouto commented, trotting along at his heels. Raidou glanced down, not for the first time wondering if the cat could make himself invisible or something. He certainly hadn't seen his partner in the headmaster's room, and nobody seemed to be paying attention to him now. "You'd better do something about that, though," the cat continued, blithely ignoring Raidou's glare. "Those stripes will last for a week, and you don't want them hampering you in battle."

The twinkle in his eye told Raidou that Gouto was well aware of the other effect of the caning, but thankfully the sometimes irritating cat kept his mouth shut about it.

The moment he was alone in the hall, Raidou ducked into a tiny janitor's closet and shut the door behind him, 'locking' it by wedging a heavy box up against it. In the dim light of the single, bare bulb, he pressed himself face-first against the cool cinderblock wall and just let himself breathe for a moment. His backside felt like it must be glowing bright enough to provide a second light source, but the worst of the pain had subsided. Gouto was right that it was enough to slow him down in a fight, though, and that couldn't be allowed.

He selected one of the glowing tubes in the holders across his chest, and positioned his hands. Murmuring the words of the chant beneath his breath, Raidou focused on the demon he wanted to summon. He was getting much faster at summoning as he gained more practice, at least, and in seconds a Leanan Sidhe appeared before him.

"Oh? What's this? Poor little Raidou, did you get in trouble at school?" she cooed, batting her eyes at him. Beneath the outward expression of sympathy there was a glitter of dark amusement, and Raidou sighed. He supposed it was too much to expect his demons not to be smug about the situation. He'd lost face, and that sort of thing was important to them.

"Don't worry," she continued, sweeping her long hair back over her shoulder and smirking at him. "I'll make it all better for you. Can't have you going to class in that state, can we? Hold still, darling."

Raidou closed his eyes against the bright flash of magic that was coming, and waited for the familiar tingling rush of the diarama spell. Instead the next thing he knew a warm, lithe body was pressed up against him.

His eyes flew open, but his automatic protest was rendered incoherent by her lips pressed tight to his. Even standing on the ground she was at least a full foot taller than him, and he was trapped between her supple body and the solid wall. He could have struggled, but she wasn't hurting him and he didn't want to make her angry.

His mouth was occupied, but he - gods, she was good with her tongue, who knew there were that many erotically sensitive places in a person's mouth? With an effort Raidou forced himself to focus. His mouth was occupied, but he didn't actually need the chant to dismiss a demon, it just helped. He lifted his hand to make the gesture of dismissal, but froze when she brazenly slid a hand into the front of his pants and wrapped slender fingers around his cock.

Suddenly it took all his concentration just to remember how to breathe. Vaguely Raidou was aware that he was clutching at her shoulders, his head tilted back to better meet her kiss, hips rocking in time with her strokes on his cock. Her wonderful, amazing, talented fingers were doing things to him that should have been considered the darkest sort of magic, because they utterly erased his ability to think. He was reduced to a living, breathing set of nerves, quivering helplessly with pleasure.

Then he was shuddering with pain as well, and he gave a tiny, undignified yelp against her mouth as she traced the nails of her other hand over the welts on his ass. He wasn't sure just when she'd dropped his pants, and didn't really care. The added stimulation pushed him right over the edge, and he came harder than he ever had before in his life.

He lost track of the world for a minute or two, and when he came back to himself he found he was sitting on the floor, slumped over against the wall, panting. Feeling dazed, he looked up to see the Leanan Sidhe floating in the air again, not a hair out of place but her smug expression wider than ever. "So long, Raidou darling," she crooned. "Do call on me again, next time you need... help." Her smile became a wicked smirk, and she vanished.

For a long moment Raidou simply couldn't move, feeling drained and limp with the force of his orgasm. After a moment he realized that it didn't hurt to be sitting down, and when he cautiously shifted he discovered that the pain from the headmaster's beating had vanished completely. She had healed him then, at least.

A soft cough drew his attention to the corner, and his cheeks flamed as he realized that Gouto was still sitting there. The cat was industriously washing himself, seemingly paying no attention whatsoever to what was going on around him, but Raidou could hear a soft, rumbling purr that sounded more like a chuckle. With an effort he picked up a nearby clump of cleaning rags and tossed them at his partner.

Gouto looked up, and now his laughter was more audible. "Don't take it out on me, I'm not the one who was foolish enough to summon a seductive-type demon while in that state," he said smugly. "Of course she took advantage. What did you expect?"

Raidou groaned as he realized Gouto was right. That had been a singularly foolish thing to do, but the Leanan Sidhe was his primary healer and he hadn't given it a second thought.

Ah, well. No harm done. Though he might end up blushing the next few times he summoned her, and she was undoubtedly bragging to the other demons about her 'conquest' of their summoner even now. No lasting harm, then. He was healed, his other problem was also taken care of, and now he just needed to find the energy to get to class before someone realized he'd been gone far longer than the headmaster would have kept him.

"Don't feel too bad," Gouto said as Raidou hauled himself to his feet and started straightening his uniform. "It could have been much worse." When Raidou raised an eyebrow at him, Gouto coughed to smother another chuckle. "Think about who else you might have summoned for that healing spell."

Raidou did a quick inventory of the demons he was carrying, and blanched. Gouto was right, it could have been much worse.

The only other demon with a dia-type spell he currently had with him was the Incubus.

[Fic] Kink Bingo: Public Humiliation - Kanda/Lavi

2009-08-04T06:01:55Z

Kink: Public Humiliation
Series: D.Gray-man
Pairing: Kanda/Lavi
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: It's a fic for kink bingo. It's kinky, and X-rated. Nuff said.
Length: 5489

A bet is a bet, after all.

The book that Bookman had lent him was fascinating, a diary written by a samurai during the Thousand Years war. Kanda had never heard of the man, but considering the source he was willing to bet it was a genuine artefact. Under other circumstances he might have been completely absorbed by it.

'Other circumstances' being defined as 'not having Lavi in the room'. The loudmouth was chattering away a mile a minute, teasing Johnny, Reever, and the rest of the scientists present into laughing as well. The sounds of merriment were a little fragile, but the gaping holes where their lost comrades had once sat were still too obvious for laughter to come easily. Unfortunately that just seemed to make Lavi determined to work harder at it.

It still wouldn't have been so bad if the moron hadn't been bound and determined to include Kanda, as well. "C'mon, Yuu, lighten up, will ya?" the redhead said, poking him repeatedly on one shoulder. "Get your nose outta the book and actually talk t'the rest of us, for once."

"Why would I want to waste my time doing that?" Kanda snapped, glaring at him. Lavi just grinned and kept poking him, and Kanda growled. Not for the first time he debated going to Komui and demanding that his room be finished now, not later, so he had somewhere to escape everyone. Private quarters were a low priority for the new Headquarters, or so he'd been told. The longer he was forced to share space with Lavi, the less Kanda cared about the Order's priorities.

"You're stuck with us, y'might as well enjoy it," Lavi told him. "I bet you'd even have fun if you let yourself. We're not the enemy, after all."

"No, you're not the enemy," Kanda agreed sourly. "Just an annoying, idiotic, loud-mouthed moron. I'd rather deal with the enemy. At least I can kill them without anyone objecting."

"Hey, I'm not a loudmouth," Lavi protested, laughing. If Kanda's insults bothered him he showed no sign of it, as usual. Kanda hadn't really expected him to, but it would have been a nice surprise.

"Of all the things I just called you, that's the one you choose to argue?" Kanda rolled his eyes. "You couldn't keep your mouth shut for five minutes if your life depended on it."

"Wanna bet?" There was a dangerous gleam in Lavi's eye, and the quality of his grin changed. Kanda eyed him warily, sensing a trap but not sure where the tripwire was.

"Bet on what, your ability to keep your mouth shut? On what terms?" Kanda asked. He was fairly certain he would win any such bet – short of being asleep, he'd never yet seen Lavi go without talking for more than a few breaths. On the other hand the idiot was far too smug.

"Fifteen minutes, and if I win, you have to wear a pretty dress for the rest of the day," Lavi challenged him, to muffled snickers from the others in the room. "You might as well be proper eyecandy, if you're gonna be the second hottest Exorcist in the Order. After Lenalee, of course."

He grinned wide enough for Kanda to put his fist through. The thought of proving that comparison was tempting, but Kanda restrained himself with an effort. He was getting very tired of the idiot making that particular joke. If Kanda lost a bet like that, Lavi would never let him live it down. Was fifteen minutes of silence really worth the risk?

Then again, all he really had to do was up the ante. "Twenty minutes, and if I win, you have to do anything and everything I tell you to for the rest of the day," Kanda replied, leaning back and crossing his arms with a smirk of his own.

Lavi raised an eyebrow, but his smug grin didn't slip an inch. "Done, starting on my mark," he replied instantly. The eagerness of his response worried Kanda a little, but he still thought Lavi was overconfident. "Don't think any of Lenalee's dresses will fit you, which is a shame," Lavi continued, eyeing Kanda significantly. "Might have to see if Miranda can whip something up for you."

"Are you going to start, or just keep proving my point for me by continuing to blab?" Kanda asked, making his tone as acidic as he could. This time he was the one who won snickers from their observers.

Lavi made a dramatic zipping motion across his mouth, and gave Kanda a thumb's up. Immediately the others started teasing him, asking leading questions or trying to provoke him into making some noise. Kanda returned to his book, pleased. In some ways this was noisier than Lavi's conversation had been, but when he won the bet he would be able to order the moron out of his presence for the whole rest of the day.

Despite himself he kept sneaking peeks at the redhead over the pages of his book, checking to make certain Lavi wasn't cheating somehow. Lavi grinned wider every time he caught Kanda at it, which only made Kanda scowl the harder.

The first five minutes passed without so much as a peep from Lavi, though he did take to making comical miming gestures, warding off the attempts of the others to trick him into talking. Eventually people stopped trying so hard and returned to their earlier conversations, though someone did announce when ten minutes had gone by. Lavi settled back in his chair, watching with an oddly quirked smile on his face. Kanda forced himself to stop looking, telling himself that he wasn't worried in the least. It would never last.

At the fifteen minute mark Kanda gave up trying to concentrate on his reading, staring narrowly at Lavi. The moron just wiggled his fingers in acknowledgement of Kanda's regard, his grin widening again and the look in his eye mocking.

The door opened and Lenalee poked her head in, smiling when she spotted them all. "Hey, guys," she said, stepping in and coming to join them at the tables. "Jeryy just made fresh chocolate chip cookies! I stole some, but I can't eat them all myself so I thought I'd share. They're still warm! Who wants one?"

Lavi perked and sat up, holding his hands in front of him like a dog's paws as he made a pleading expression at Lenalee. She giggled and shook her head. "If you want some, you just have to ask," she said.

"He can't," Reever said, chuckling. "He's got a bet on with Kanda. He's still got..." he checked his watch. "Three minutes. Too bad the cookies will be cold by then. May I?" he added, and Lenalee nodded with another giggle. Reever made a production of taking a cookie and biting into it with an appreciative sound.

Others started clamouring for their share, and Lenalee handed out cookies to everyone who asked. Lavi drooped visibly and his expression grew more and more pathetic, but to Kanda's frustration he didn't so much as whimper.

Finally there was only one cookie left, and Lenalee held it up, considering. Lavi poked his lip out in an exaggerated pout, and she giggled again. "Oh, all right. I suppose I can take pity on you. Here." She handed the cookie to Lavi, who made a kissing gesture at her and bit into it happily. "What's the bet about, anyway?"

Kanda relaxed, seeing his salvation present itself at last. "I bet that he couldn't keep his mouth shut, and he just lost," he said smugly. Lavi nearly choked on the bite he'd just taken. He swallowed and stared at Kanda in surprise. Kanda smirked back at him. "You had to open your mouth to eat the cookie."

"Wha... hey, that's not fair," Lavi burst out, incensed. "You meant that I wasn't allowed to talk."

"Which you just did, rendering the whole point moot," Kanda pointed out, as close to gleeful as he ever got.

Lavi blinked, then groaned and buried his face in his hands, as everyone else started to laugh. After a moment Lavi began to chuckle as well, and his expression was ruefully amused when he looked at Kanda again. "All right, y'got me fair and square, Yuu," he agreed. "I s'ppose you want me outta your hair for the day or something?"

That had been Kanda's plan, but now that he'd won the victory he found he wanted to savour it. "No, I think you need to be taught a more lasting lesson." Now Lavi looked nervous, which made Kanda feel better. "Considering what you were planning to inflict on me, that seems only fair."

"Now, Yuu, you know I wouldn't have gone too far, right?" Lavi said, laughing uneasily and raising his hands in a gesture of warding.

"I know no such thing," Kanda retorted. "Quite the opposite, I'm sure. Since you were doing such a good impression of a dog for Lenalee just now, why don't you keep going? Sit." He pointed at the floor next to him, his smirk widening.

More snickers and giggles broke out as Lavi heaved a dramatic sigh and hauled himself out of his chair, moving around the tables to sit next to Kanda on the floor. He even sat so he was kneeling with his hands on the ground, playing along by taking the posture of a dog. "So are you gonna..."

Kanda cut him off with a sharp gesture. "Dogs don't speak," he reminded the other man.

Lavi rolled his eyes. "Woof," he muttered. Then he paused and grinned again, and raised his volume. "Woof. Yap, yap. Woof! Woo..."

"Do you really want me to discipline you like a dog, too?" Kanda asked, and Lavi shut up in mid-bark, looking sheepish. Lenalee had her hand over her mouth, but her shining eyes betrayed the fact that she was laughing just as hard as the science division members.

Satisfied at last, Kanda settled down to read his book again.

Kanda had expected Lavi to get bored and start complaining within minutes, and he'd spent a few pleasant moments devising possible punishments for him. Then he'd gotten truly caught up in his book, and honestly forgot the younger Bookman was even there.

It wasn't until Lavi nudged his leg and gave a convincing imitation of a dog's pathetic whine that Kanda remembered his companion. Surprised, he glanced up to see that everyone else had left the room. Lavi was sprawled out beside him, making pleading eyes at him.

"What?" Kanda asked automatically. Lavi rolled his eyes and whimpered again, reminding Kanda that he'd ordered the redhead not to speak. A moment later his stomach growled loudly, answering the question for him anyway.

"Is it dinner already?" Kanda was surprised, but now that he was paying attention he realized he was hungry as well. "Huh. Too bad I can't do this all the time. I think this is by far the most pleasant afternoon I've ever spent in your company."

Lavi made a rude noise, which Kanda chose to overlook. Kanda stood and stretched, then looked down at the other man. A mocking smile spread over his face. "I suppose you've been a good enough boy to deserve some food, but it would be rude to take my dog out without a leash."

Lavi gave a huge, put-upon sigh. Kanda just smirked as he unwound the cord sash he wore at his waist. It was nice to be able to turn the tables on the irritating bastard for a change. Deftly Kanda slipped one end of the cord around Lavi's throat, and tied it securely. He checked to make sure it wouldn't go tight if pulled on; he fully intended to haul on the leash, but he didn't want to choke Lavi to death. Well, not really.

Satisfied, he gripped the long end of the cord and tugged. "Heel," he commanded smugly, and headed for the door.

Lavi made one attempt to scramble to his feet, which Kanda responded to by yanking hard enough to pull him off balance again. Lavi growled under his breath, but Kanda ignored it. For the first time he understood why Lavi was so impervious to Kanda's snarls and glares. They just made the whole thing even more entertaining. Not to mention satisfying.

There weren't too many people in the halls, but everyone they did encounter stopped short and gaped at the sight of Lavi crawling along at Kanda's side. To give Lavi credit he carried it off with flair. He grinned and nodded at everyone who stared, acting for all the world as if it was perfectly normal for him to behave this way. Only the faint flush on his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment.

Waves of badly stifled laughter met them as they entered the cafeteria. "I didn't know we were allowed to have pets," Allen called, grinning. Clearly the story of the bet had been making the rounds.

"Aw, he's so cute," Miranda cooed, the sugary voice she was trying for somewhat ruined by the choked laughter beneath it. "I've never seen a breed like that, what is he?"

"Just a mutt," Bookman said, unexpectedly joining in the fun. Lavi made dramatic whimpering noises and clutched at his chest, then grinned and flipped his master off.

"Bad dog," Kanda said, jerking on the leash again and smothering his own amusement. This was more fun than he'd expected it to be.

By the time they reached the food window, the last of the shocked stares had turned into muffled snickers. Jeryy handed Kanda a tray with his usual assortment of sushi, but there were also two wide, shallow bowls. One was filled with water, and the other with meat and potato scraps. "For your cute little puppy," Jeryy said, grinning down at Lavi.

Instead of searching for the emptiest, most out of the way corner, for once Kanda deliberately sat in a crowded area. The scientists willingly shuffled down to make room for him at the end of the table, so Lavi could sit on the floor next to him. Kanda smirked as he leaned over and placed the food and water bowls on the floor. "Good dog, you can eat now," he taunted.

Lavi's face was now red enough to clash with his hair, but he only sighed and obediently leaned over to try to eat his dinner. Nobody was even attempting to stifle their laughter anymore, calling out encouragements of 'good dog' and 'pretty puppy'.

Kanda was hungry, but he found himself spending more time watching Lavi than eating himself. Lavi didn't have a dog's long and flexible tongue, of course, or an extended muzzle. As a result he was forced to make an absolute mess of himself as he shoved his face into the food. The emptier the bowls got, the harder it was for him to get at the contents. By the time he'd eaten as much as he could, even the back of his neck and ears were bright red. Kanda didn't think he'd ever seen someone look so embarrassed.

It was thrilling. For once Kanda had the upper hand against the bastard. He wished he could do this every day. As he watched Lavi make an idiot of himself, he wondered how far he could push things.

One thing was certain. Lavi humiliated and on his knees was a memory he planned to savour for a long time to come.

Lavi fought the urge to squirm, sitting on his haunches at Kanda's side while the other man finished his dinner. He could feel the heat on his face and knew he had to be blushing bright red. It wasn't something he often did involuntarily, but he had no control over the reflex now.

At least nobody would think it was in any way suspicious. All around him people continued to laugh and tease him, all of it good-natured but still intended to embarrass him. The teasing Lavi could handle. It was his own reaction to being forced to abase himself like this that made his blush genuine. Every laugh and giggle, every sly glance and comment, and especially every smirk and order from Kanda made the ache in his groin a little bit worse. Lavi had never been this hard before in his life.

He wasn't sure just what exactly was turning him on so badly. It wasn't the makeshift collar and leash itself, or any specific thing Kanda had made him do. It was just something about his powerlessness to stop it from happening, or maybe the satisfied gleam in Kanda's eyes every time he looked at Lavi.

For the moment his problem was hidden by the fact that he was on his hands and knees, but if anybody noticed he was going to be humiliated for real. He shifted slightly, trying to ease the tightness in his pants where they strained against his erection. He eyed the water bowl, but the effort of getting any more water out of it would only provoke more laughter, and leave him worse off than when he'd started.

Without meaning to he sighed, and was startled to feel fingers threading through his hair. When he looked up he discovered that Kanda was petting him, smirking all the while. "Something wrong, puppy?" Kanda taunted him.

Lavi bit his lip to stifle a groan, and it came out as a whimper instead. At least that was in keeping with his act. Having Kanda touch him like that made the whole thing exponentially worse. Lavi swallowed hard, fighting the temptation to butt his head against the other man's hand like a real dog would, just to prolong the contact. Or better yet, roll over on his back and beg for belly rubs.

Well, something near his belly, anyway.

Then Kanda actually scratched behind his ears, and Lavi couldn't take any more. He ducked his head to get out from under the touch, and glared up at Kanda. "Yuu..."

"Dogs don't talk," Kanda cut him off, his smirk widening.

Inspiration struck. "Yeah, well, dogs also get walked a couple times a day," Lavi muttered, keeping his voice low enough that nobody but Kanda would be able to hear him. "Unless making me piss my pants is part of your strategic humiliation plan?" He met Kanda's gaze squarely. He didn't really have to go that badly, but with a bit of privacy in the washroom he'd be able to take care of the obvious signs of his arousal.

Kanda raised an eyebrow like he was actually considering it, the bastard. Lavi ground his teeth and waited. He didn't think Kanda would go that far, but then again he was getting even for an awful lot of things Lavi had done to him in the past. In the end, though, Kanda nodded. "Three minutes."

"Thank y... what?" Lavi did a double-take, staring at him. "Yuu, it'll take me that long just to get to the bathroom and back!"

"Then I suggest you run," Kanda said smugly, and made little shooing motions. "Two minutes, forty seconds."

Cursing under his breath, Lavi scrambled to his feet and headed out of the room at a dead run. There was no way he was going to have time to take care of his problem, no matter how fast he ran, but he also couldn't say he'd changed his mind without making Kanda suspicious.

He did use the bathroom, because he was going to have to at some point and he didn't think he'd be able to convince Kanda to let him off the leash - literally - a second time. It was difficult to go with his cock aching with need, and Lavi had to grit his teeth against the urge to touch himself. He really didn't want to find out what Kanda would do to him if he was late.

Running back to the cafeteria, Lavi could hear the sound of chanting from several feet away. It wasn't until he opened the door that he realized people were counting down. Cheers and boos broke out in equal volume as people realized he'd returned.

He skidded to a halt at Yuu's side just as the count reached three, and dropped down to sit on the floor again. He clenched his fists in his lap, hoping nobody had noticed the awkward state of his body while he was standing. Lavi was panting, and his ragged breathing showed no signs of calming. It had very little to do with his brief run.

To his mingled pleasure and dismay, Kanda started petting him again. The smirk on the other Exorcist's face clearly said that he was doing it because he thought it was embarrassing Lavi. Which it was, just not quite the way Kanda thought it was. "Good dog," Kanda said, his voice a satisfied purr that made Lavi have to bite down on another groan.

By the time dinner was over, Lavi was in agony. When Kanda stood and tugged on the leash Lavi crawled after him with a muffled whimper. It hurt to move, and the process of getting through the halls only made it worse.

Their dormitory room was empty when they reached it, everyone else still out socializing or performing assigned tasks. Lavi wasn't sure whether to be grateful or not. Witnesses made it worse, but they also eased the temptation to simply jump Kanda and have done with it.

"Sit," Kanda ordered again, pointing to the floor beside the chair where he'd been reading earlier.

With a soft whimper Lavi curled up next to it, tucking his knees against his chest and burying his overheated face in his arms. Maybe if he didn't have to see Kanda smirking at him, he would survive the rest of this bet. He wasn't counting on it, though. At the rate he was going, he was going to come in his damned pants the moment Kanda petted him again.

To his surprise, Kanda didn't immediately sit down. Lavi could sense his presence, hovering over him. Fervently Lavi prayed Kanda wasn't devising some new, more inventive way to embarrass him.

"Are you okay?" Kanda asked after a moment. He sounded reluctant, but even so the show of concern shocked Lavi. He looked up to find Kanda frowning down at him.

Lavi opened his mouth to answer, but hesitated when he remembered that he wasn't supposed to be talking. Kanda made an impatient gesture, which Lavi took as permission to speak. "I'll be fine," he said, wincing as his voice came out hoarse.

Kanda's frown only deepened. "You're lying," he said. "Something is really bothering you."

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Lavi countered. "To embarrass me into silence, and maybe make it so awful that I'd never be tempted to tease you again? Congratulations, it's working."

"So you're saying you'll never tease me again?" Kanda sounded sceptical.

Chuckling, Lavi had to concede the point. "Well, no. You're just so damned cute when you go all growly and flail at me. It's hard to resist."

To his surprise, Kanda snorted and looked both amused and rueful. "I finally understand why you do it," he muttered. "Humiliating you is... fun. I'll just have to find excuses to do it more often."

"Oh God, please," Lavi mumbled, burying his face in his knees again as he felt his cheeks go hotter still. As horribly embarrassing as the whole thing had been - not to mention frustrating as hell - he knew he'd willingly throw any bet Kanda ever made with him in the future, just to get a chance to experience it again.

"Hmph. Serves you right," Kanda said, obviously mistaking Lavi's reaction for one of horror. He settled into his seat and picked up the book he'd been reading earlier.

Resigned to his suffering, Lavi shifted so he was a bit more comfortable, and settled in next to him. When Kanda started absently petting him again, he even managed not to moan, just letting his head rest on his knees and struggling to control his breathing. The feel of slender fingers carding through his hair was pleasant, and if he were a real dog his tail would have been thumping two hundred beats a minute. Instead it felt like his heart was going about that fast.

When they'd been alone in the room earlier, Lavi had amused himself by going over the records in his head, reminding himself exactly what that book had said and which parts were inaccurate. Now he couldn't seem to summon the concentration to think about anything but how hard he was. At least in the dining room he'd had the distraction of all the teasing. Here there was only Kanda, who was completely absorbed in his book.

That thought made Lavi hesitate. The other man really was totally wrapped up in the journal, partly because it was just that fascinating and partly because he was probably having to think hard to translate the ancient Japanese dialect it was written in. He would certainly notice if Lavi actually got up and walked out or even tried to sneak off, but as long as Lavi remained in place and stayed quiet, Kanda probably wouldn't even remember he was there. Just like before dinner.

Slowly, an inch at a time, Lavi worked his hand between his knees and his body. It was a struggle to keep his breathing steady. He bit his lip hard enough that he tasted copper, and managed not to make a sound when he was finally able to squeeze his aching cock through his pants. It hurt, he was so hard, but it hurt so good.

He pressed his palm down and rubbed slowly, careful not to make any movements that might be noticeable. If he'd been using his normal quick, hard strokes he'd have come in about thirty seconds flat. Drawing it out was pure torture, but it was better than not getting any relief at all. His cock jumped and twitched beneath his hand, the rough material of his pants scraping over the sensitive flesh with every pass. It took every bit of discipline he had to keep from gasping for air or rocking his hips up into his hand.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Lavi froze, horrified and agonized, seconds away from orgasm. The blush that swept over his face this time was painfully genuine and possibly the worst he could ever remember blushing. Including earlier that night, and that was saying something. So much for Kanda not noticing.

When he hesitantly looked up, however, he found Kanda frowning at him in apparent concern rather than scowling in disgust. "Wh-what?" Lavi asked, cursing himself for the betraying stammer.

"You're shaking," Kanda observed, his frown deepening. "And you're curled up even tighter than before. Are you crying?" He sounded incredulous, and just the tiniest bit guilty. "I haven't made you suffer any worse than you were planning to do to me!"

Lavi nearly choked on a rather hysterical laugh. He changed it into a cough, hoping Kanda wouldn't realize. Who knew Kanda would actually feel guilty about driving Lavi to tears? Though Lavi was a little insulted that Kanda thought he could be broken that easily. "No,, I'm not crying," he said. It would have been a good excuse, but his pride wouldn't let him take it.

"Then what the hell is wrong?" Kanda repeated, exasperated. "Tell me the truth, damn it. Consider it an order."

"Oh, you bastard, you would," Lavi muttered, banging his forehead against his knees. But he'd made a bet, and he wouldn't welsh on it. An order was an order. "Fine. God damn it. I was trying to get off without you noticing, since you didn't give me enough time to do it in the bathroom. Happy?"

The gobsmacked look on Kanda's face was priceless. Under other circumstances, Lavi would have enjoyed it. "You. What?" He sounded like he was certain he'd misheard.

"I said, I'm trying to jerk off, since you've been fucking cock-teasing me all God damned night," Lavi repeated with exaggerated patience. He was trembling, his hand still pressed hard on his erection, fighting the need to push just that little bit further and send himself over the edge.

"I've been teasing you," Kanda repeated flatly. "By what, humiliating you?"

If it wasn't physically impossible, Lavi would have bet that he'd just gone redder still. He met Kanda's eyes defiantly, daring the other man to call him perverted or sick. Kanda just stared back at him, with the most shocked and bewildered expression Lavi had ever seen. When he said nothing more, Lavi swallowed hard. What the hell. Kanda already knew what he was up to.

With a deliberate motion he wrapped his fingers around his cock as best he could and stroked, keeping his eyes locked on Kanda's all the while. He was so close now that it barely took two strokes before his whole body convulsed and he came so hard he practically saw stars. He couldn't stop his eyes from sliding closed, and the faintest whimper escaped him as he shook with the force of his orgasm.

If Kanda said anything in the next few seconds, Lavi missed it. It took him a moment to become aware of the room again. Panting softly, he opened his eyes and saw Kanda still sitting there frozen, gaping at him. Lavi gave him a wry smile, and waited for the bomb to explode.

Abruptly Kanda stood and left the room, book still clutched forgotten in his hand. Lavi stared after him, caught completely by surprise. That was not the response he'd expected. Yelling, disgust, even bloodshed would have been anticipated responses, but this was weird.

He waited, but Kanda didn't return. After a while Lavi moved to clean himself up, changing into his pyjamas since his pants were a mess. It was almost time to sleep, anyway. He pulled the cord off his neck and sat on his bunk, staring at it in his hands, wondering what he was supposed to do now. Had he grossed Kanda out so thoroughly the other man didn't even want to look at him now? Would Kanda tell everyone? Maybe that was what he was doing right now, letting everyone know how twisted Lavi was.

When the door opened Lavi looked up apprehensively, but it was only some of the others returning for the night. "Hey, Lavi, did he let you off the leash early?" Reever joked when he saw Lavi sitting there. "Time off for good behaviour?"

"He sure managed to get the most out of that bet, didn't he?" Johnny said, and his smile was a little more genuine than it had been earlier that day. "You did kinda deserve it, though."

Lavi relaxed marginally. If Kanda was spreading stories about him, these guys hadn't heard them yet. It wasn't really the sort of thing Kanda would do, anyway. He wasn't given to talking at all, let alone spreading nasty gossip.

Kanda returned not too much later. He paused in the doorway, looking at Lavi like he wanted to say something, but the presence of the others obviously put him off. He didn't look angry or horrified, at least, which Lavi counted as a small victory.

"Y'forgot this," Lavi said softly, holding out the cord in one hand. With his eyes he offered a silent apology. He hadn't meant to disturb Kanda that badly.

Kanda glanced at the cord, then at him. Slowly he shook his head. "Keep it," he said, his voice a touch huskier than usual. "You'll need it the next time you lose a bet to me, anyway. I'm sure it won't take long."

Blinking, Lavi looked at him again, and reassessed his estimation of the other Exorcist's reaction. Kanda was just the faintest bit flushed himself, and his breathing wasn't quite even. Suddenly his abrupt exit took on a whole different meaning. Lavi's mood underwent a sharp upward swing, and a slow smile spread over his face. "Don't count on it, Yuu," he said, because he couldn't admit just how thrilled he was to hear that. "I ain't gonna make it easy for you."

"We'll see," Kanda said, and stalked over to his own bunk. He paused before settling in, and looked down at Lavi. The heat in his eyes was enough to make Lavi shiver in response. "Good dog." His mocking tone almost covered the hint of a question beneath it. Probably nobody but Lavi could hear it.

Lavi let out his breath and nodded just the tiniest bit, enough so that Kanda would see it but the others probably wouldn't notice. He grinned as he clutched the cord in his hand. Now he just had to hope that whatever Kanda chose to bet on next time, it wouldn't be too hard for Lavi to lose.

[Fic] Kink Bingo: Suspension - Duo

2009-08-04T05:56:36Z

Wow, it's been a while since I wrote any GW. I'm determined to do a different fandom for each square on my bingo card, which I guess means I'll be delving into some new and old fandoms.

Kink: Suspension
Series: Gundam Wing
Pairing: Duo
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: It's a fic for kink bingo. It's kinky, and X-rated. Nuff said.
Length: 1051

There's nothing quite like zero gravity.

There was nothing quite like hanging in the solitude of space, watching the Earth turn slowly below him while the stars twinkled in the endless blackness beyond. It was Duo's favourite place to be, and when he was out here alone in his gundam, he could kind of understand what Quatre meant when he talked about his 'space heart'.

He had a while yet before the Oz transport ship he was planning to ambush would launch, more than half an hour. He'd positioned himself in an orbit that would put him on an intercept course, and then turned off all his thrusters so the defence satellites wouldn't detect him. Now he just had to wait, alone in the darkness of space, with only the view of the Earth and his Deathscythe for company.

Reaching down, Duo undid the buckles on his harness and shrugged free, drifting out of the seat and into the cramped free space of Deathscythe's cockpit. He triple-checked the seals on his pressure suit, then used two cords to attach different places on his suit to two parts of the chair harness. Once he was certain he was secure, he punched the button that would open the cockpit.

The atmosphere inside was expelled explosively into the vaccuum, and Duo was yanked out along with it. The cords caught him before he'd gone very far, jerking him to an abrupt halt and turning his momentum into a lazy spin along his axis. Outside the cockpit the vast expanse of space was even more obvious than when looking at it through a viewscreen. Only the thin fabric of his p-suit and two little strings were keeping him alive and safe now.

It was a rush completely unlike the adrenalin of battle, where everything was live or die and it all happened too fast to process. This was slow and majestic, making him feel tiny but somehow not insignificant, like he was one miniscule part of a massive and impressive whole.

Duo let himself drift there for a while, just enjoying the view. Then he made tiny adjusting blasts of his wrist thrusters, cancelling his spin and relative motion until he seemed to be hanging absolutely still beside Deathscythe. He knew he was really zipping along at an astonishing speed, circling the Earth in orbit, but it felt like there was absolutely no motion.

He closed his eyes and just hung there, the lack of weight making his body feel odd and unfamiliar, almost alien. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and throat; hear the soft sounds of his breathing in the closed system inside his helmet. Slowly, carefully, he worked his hand out of the glove and sleeve of the suit, careful not to break or loosen any of the pressure seals. His suit had been intended for someone a bit bigger than him, 'to give him room to grow' as G had put it, and he had a bit of manoeuvring space inside. He managed to worm his hand down inside the front, until he was cupping his soft cock through the fabric of the thin thermal pants he wore beneath the suit.

His next exhale sounded a little harsher in his ears, and he squeezed himself gently. Opening his eyes again, he stared down at the Earth so far below him in all her beautiful, majestic glory, and stroked his cock slowly. He started to harden, the reflex a little belated in the confusion of zero-g, and his soft moan echoed inside his helmet.

With firm, even strokes he worked himself to full attention. He squirmed despite himself, his hips trying to rock up into each touch, but with no weight and nothing to push off of the motions got him nowhere. He added a twist to each stroke at the end, rubbing his thumb over his weeping slit, loving the freedom of being able to writhe all he liked without gravity controlling his movements.

A particularly forceful thrust moved him just far enough around his centre of mass that he started rotating slowly again, but to him it just looked like the Earth and stars had started spinning around him. He timed his strokes so that he finished each one as Earth reached zenith again, a frustratingly slow pace that had him writhing even more in moments.

Now he could feel the safety cables tugging at him, holding him in place so that he didn't go tumbling off through space into oblivion. He ignored that gentle pull, still concentrating on the amazing sensation of being completely, utterly weightless. It made the tension building inside him seem that much more urgent, the contortion of his muscles due to pleasure alone as he pushed himself towards orgasm.

The air seemed to have vanished from inside his suit, leaving him panting for oxygen that just wasn't there. Duo might have been worried if he hadn't been able to clearly see the green lights on the readout for his suit controls, assuring him that the oxygen flow was perfectly normal. He felt lightheaded and dizzy, perhaps a side effect of all the blood rushing to his cock.

Finally he couldn't take it any longer, and his pace sped despite his best efforts to keep it steady. The rocking of his hips grew more violent, but the cables kept him from spinning away. He was free to focus only on the amazing sensation of orgasm in zero g as he came hard enough to see more stars than there already were.

For long moments afterwards he simply drifted there, content to just relax every muscle and allow himself to recover. The nothingness of space embraced him, cradling him like nothing else he'd ever experienced.

In the end, a soft triple beep in his left ear brought him back to reality. The shuttle had launched; he had just enough time to haul himself back into the gundam, close up tight and get ready for battle. With a sigh Duo carefully insinuated his hand back into the sleeve and glove, and then grabbed for the cable to pull himself back inside. At least he had one more memory to add to his tiny collection, of moments when he had been literally free of the weight of the world on his shoulders.

[Fic] Kink Bingo: Watersports - Soul/Maka

2009-08-04T05:45:51Z

Okay, posting my fics for Kink Bingo. I've got three done so far, I'll post more as I write them. I'm trying for a blackout, but I don't know if I'll actually manage it. I got an incredibly sucky bingo card. Not a single thing I really wanted on it, and a whole bunch of things I don't personally find sexy in the least.

It's really difficult to write a hot fic for something you don't think is hot! I can't believe I actually managed to write this kink at all. *sweatdrops* I hope it's good for those who do like it, though.

Kink: Watersports
Series: Soul Eater
Pairing: Soul/Maka
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: It's a fic for kink bingo. It's kinky, and X-rated. Nuff said.
Length: 2058

Soul loves making Maka lose control.

The front door had no sooner closed behind them than Soul had Maka pushed up against it, kissing her hard. She kissed him back, running her hands through his hair, soaking up his presence the same way he was soaking up hers. In the years they'd been together she'd noticed that he was most eager to touch her after a dangerous battle, especially if they'd used soul resonance. Generally she felt the same; merging souls was such an incredibly intimate experience, and it felt good to match that by merging their bodies as well.

This time she had something more pressing to take care of first, however. "Soul, just a minute," she pleaded when he pulled back for air at last. "I'll meet you in your bedroom, okay?"

"What? Why?" he demanded, disgruntled. "We already made our report to Shinigami-sama. Anything else can wait, can't it?"

"Not this," she muttered, blushing. When he only stood there, still blocking her against the door with his bigger body, she flushed harder and swatted his arm. "I have to use the bathroom, all right? Let me by."

An odd look came into his eyes, a sort of bright amusement mixed with the heat of lust. Instantly Maka was wary. She'd seen that look before, and it almost always ended with him convincing her to do something completely outrageous. Sometimes she thought he got off on seeing how bright a shade of red he could make her blush.

He bent slightly and scooped her up without warning, one hand at her shoulders and one under her knees. Maka shrieked a little in surprise and clung to his neck. She'd have struggled, but she was afraid of throwing off his balance and making him drop her. "Soul, put me down! I'm not kidding," she demanded, pounding on his back with one small fist. "Don't make me use my book. If I knock you silly you won't get any tonight, and you know it."

"If you knock me silly, I'll drop you," he pointed out in an overly reasonable tone, seeming unconcerned by the threat.

She made an outraged noise, knowing he was right, and he grinned down at her. He carried her not into the bedroom as she'd expected, but into bathroom. "Wha... I can walk idiot, I don't need you to carry me," she said, feeling her face flame brighter yet. "I wasn't injured!"

"I know," he said, unruffled. To her extreme embarrassment he actually set her down sitting on the open toilet, instead of just putting her on her feet. Then, before she realized what he was up to, he'd snaked one hand under her short skirt and was tugging at her panties, pulling them down until they were below her knees.

"Soul!" she protested, aghast but almost amused despite herself. She had no idea what he was up to, but if he wanted to spend the night doing everything for her, she supposed that wouldn't be so bad. "Okay, all right, you can leave now," she said, rolling her eyes and pointing at the door.

"No."

Before she could quite absorb his refusal, he leaned in and kissed her again, slipping his tongue into her mouth and brushing against all the places where she was most sensitive. She moaned a protest, squirming uncomfortably, unable to really enjoy the kiss. She really, really had to go; she'd been on the verge of heading for the bathroom when they'd been hustled out of Shibusen on an emergency mission that morning, and it had been one long, drawn-out battle after another since then. It was especially difficult to hold it when she was sitting like this, and she was getting desperate.

Breaking the kiss, she shoved at him hard. He didn't so much as rock back on his heels, the bastard, like a living wall of solid muscle. He grinned at her again, and this time she punched his shoulder hard enough to make him wince. "Get out, twit," she demanded again.

"No, " he repeated, trying to kiss her again. She turned her face away this time, and he shrugged and trailed his mouth down over the sensitive column of her neck instead, making her gasp.

Vaguely Maka wondered just when he had gotten so good at distracting her by seducing her. It was hard to even remember that she needed to protest, except it was also difficult to enjoy what he was doing when her body was making other, more urgent demands. "Soul, please, I really have to go," she pleaded softly.

He chuckled against her throat. "So, go," he said, like it was the obvious solution.

Maka was absolutely certain her face had never been quite so red before. She could feel the heat all the way to her ears, and almost fancied she could see the reflected glow of red off her cheeks. "With you right here?" she squeaked, mortified. "Why?"

"Because I like making you lose control," he murmured, cupping her breast with one hand through her shirt and thumbing the nipple. "Any way I can."

Arching up into his touch, Maka moaned. She fought to hold out, struggling to keep her muscles clenched tight, determined to last as long as she could. He continued to fondle her breast, scraping his sharp teeth over her neck at the same time, something that always made her shiver with pleasure.

In the end she held it perhaps another minute or so before her body betrayed her. Maka couldn't quite muffle her groan of relief as her bladder finally began to empty itself, the sensation mixing pleasantly with what Soul was doing to the rest of her body. He chuckled when he heard the first trickle, and she hit him again just on general principle.

Then he dropped his hand and worked it under her skirt, pressing his thumb against her clit before she realized what he was up to. She gasped and somehow managed to stop peeing, though the burn made tears come to her eyes. "Wh-what...?"

"Don't stop," he said, amusement clear in his voice as he nipped at her throat. "I thought you said you had to go. Don't mind me."

"It'll get all over your hand!" she protested, appalled.

"Yeah, so? I'll wash it after." Soul shrugged and continued tracing slow circles around and over her clit, making her shudder beneath his touch.

"It's dirty," she whispered, tipping her head back to stare at the ceiling so she at least wouldn't have to see him watching her.

"A lot of the things I do to you are dirty by somebody's standards," he said, tracing the shell of her ear with his tongue. "But keep fighting if you want. It just makes seeing you lose it in the end even hotter."

Trembling, she forced herself to let go again, relaxing the tight clench of her inner muscles. This time instead of a steady stream there was only a trickle, even though she still had to go nearly as badly as when she'd started. Maka moaned and squirmed, not understanding, and gasped when the motion pushed her clit more firmly against his thumb. That made the trickle stop completely for a moment, until he let up the pressure and she was able to go again.

"Soul..." She tried to pull away from him for a moment, but he just followed the motion of her body, keeping the same steady pace. She was starting to feel the throb of building orgasm deep in her body, driving her to push against him instead of away, but the need for relief was still stronger than the desire for release. "Please, just... just stop for a minute," she begged.

Instead he flicked the edge of his nail harder against her clit, making her cry out and tense up again. This time even when he pulled away it took a moment for her body to relax and let her pee again, and tears of frustration and humiliation spilled over her cheeks. He did it again, and again, waiting each time for her to start to go again before he continued tormenting her. Each time it took longer for her to relax, her body straining more and more for orgasm every time he did it.

"God, you're hot like this," he told her, his voice a low growl that made shivers run down her spine. "You should see yourself, Maka. So fucking hot, writhing and crying with need, and it's all for me." He bit down a little harder, not enough to draw blood but enough for her to feel it, and she cried out and arched up into him.

This time when he drew back slightly her body simply refused to relax, no matter how hard she tried or how her bladder ached. She needed release too much, primed for orgasm and unable to think about anything but the two conflicting needs that he'd pushed her to the edge of. "Do it," she pleaded, sobbing. "Soul, do it, make me come, oh god please, I can't stand it. Please!"

He growled and shifted his hand, pushing two fingers deep inside her and putting firm pressure on her clit at last. He fucked her with his hand and she rode him helplessly, arms around his neck and aching breasts pressed against his solid chest. When she finally hit the peak she screamed and shuddered against him, and he drew it out as long as she could stand it. Only when she squirmed to get away from the overstimulation did he finally stop, but he still didn't remove his fingers from inside her.

As the clenching spasms of her inner muscles eased, Maka felt the urgent need to pee taking precedence again. "Move your hand," she begged, hoping he would stop tormenting her now that he'd made her come.

"Nope," he said, and she could feel his grin against her neck. With a sob she conceded total defeat and stopped fighting.

For a moment nothing happened, and fresh tears welled up from need and frustration. Then finally her body relaxed enough for a tiny trickle to escape. She felt more than heard his rumble of approval, and her cheeks flamed red again as the trickle increased to a stream that flowed over his hand before falling to meet the water below.

Only when her bladder was completely empty did he finally remove his hand. Maka lay slumped against his shoulder, his arm behind her back cuddling her close. "You're a jerk," she mumbled into his shirt, not wanting to look at him and let him see how she'd been crying.

"You love me for it," he countered, stroking her back gently.

"You're still a jerk," she insisted, and he laughed. He reached for the toilet paper and cleaned his hand off, then proceeded to gently and carefully clean her as well. She put up with it, hardly able to object further at this point, and sort of enjoying the way he was taking care of her. "I don't suppose I can convince you to promise me you'll never do that again?" she asked, more wistfully than seriously.

He surprised her again when he stood abruptly, lifting her with him still pressed chest to chest. She wrapped her legs around his waist in a reflexive attempt to keep him from dropping her, and then gasped when the solid, insistent heat of him pressed against her private places. Even through the thick material of his pants she could feel how hard he was, as hard as he usually was just before he took her.

"Oh," she said, a little nonsensically. He hushed her by kissing her fiercely, and she could feel the pent up passion in his embrace as well. Without even breaking the kiss to look where he was going, he carried her into the bedroom and threw them both down onto the bed. His hands worked feverishly on her clothes, and she returned the favour eagerly.

He still hadn't promised not to repeat the humiliation he'd just put her through, but as she felt his skin against hers at last, Maka decided she wouldn't call him on it. If it was going to get him this hot, well... she might just have to see if she could always hold it until they were in private together.

[Fic] A Long Road To Destiny - FFVII/FFX - Zack, Cloud & Sephiroth - 6/25?

2009-07-29T17:15:00Z

I was out on a boat yesterday and got a little seasick myself, so I had fresh sympathy for Cloud's plight while writing this. ^_^

Title: A Long Road to Destiny
Series: FFVII/FFX fusion
Pairing: Cloud, Zack & Sephiroth
Rating: R
Warnings: violence, angst, swearing, the usual
Chapter length: 5618
Total length: 33,768

The summoner's journey is a long, hard path to walk. Having guardians you trust makes all the difference in the world.

Cloud clung to the railing, trying not to be too obvious about the desperation in his grip. The receding shore grew smaller and smaller behind them, leaving them alone in a vast expanse of ocean. Soon Kilika would be out of sight completely, and it would be a full day before Luca and the mainland came into view.

"Missing Kilika already?" Zack teased him. His guardian stood nearby, hands shading his eyes as he looked out over the sun-sparkled water. "If anyone should be getting homesick for it, it's me."

"It's 'homesickness' for solid land, not Kilika in particular," Cloud murmured. They'd forced him to eat breakfast early that morning, and he could feel it sloshing in his stomach as the ship rocked along. "At least it's nice and calm today."

"Yeah," Zack said, but he didn't sound like he really agreed. Cloud glanced up and found Zack frowning out at the sea, so calm it was like a mirror. The sky was clear and bright, with only the faintest hint of clouds on one horizon.

"Something wrong?" Sephiroth asked, apparently hearing the same note of worry in Zack's voice that Cloud had picked up. The other man was resting in the shade of the umbrella set up for that purpose, shielding his pale skin from the sun.

"It's a little too nice," Zack said, shaking his head. "You've heard the expression 'calm before the storm'? That's what this reminds me of. We're on the early side of hurricane season, but only barely. There have been storms this early in the past."

"If there was a storm coming, there would have been warning flags up and the captain wouldn't have weighed anchor. He knows the sea as well or better than you, Zack." Sephiroth seemed unconcerned, which reassured Cloud a bit.

"Yeah, I guess." Zack glanced at Cloud. "Don't worry, kid. Seph's right, the captain knows his business. And whatever else people say about the Al Bhed, they always warn us when there's a big storm coming."

"Was I being that obvious?" Cloud muttered, ducking his head. The thought of being at sea in a storm made him sweat nearly as bad as the fires in Kilika's temple had. He felt Evned stir within him at the thought, and quickly urged the aeon back down again. His control over it still wasn't perfect, and he didn't want to encourage it in any way.

"Only a little," Zack said, smiling at him. "How's your stomach? You look a little green around the gills. Oh!" He smacked his forehead, startling Cloud. "Geez, I almost forgot. Here, try these." He reached into his pocket and produced, of all things, a handful of tantal greens.

"Haha, very funny," Cloud said, glaring at him. "What do I look like, a chocobo?"

"Well, now that you mention it..." Zack eyed Cloud's spiky mop of bright yellow hair significantly. Cloud punched him, and his guardian laughed. "No, seriously. You don't eat them, you just chew on them. They help with seasickness." He offered them again, his expression eagerly sincere. Cloud eyed him warily, not quite trusting that it wasn't some kind of prank, but he could find no hint that Zack was secretly laughing at him.

"If you cannot trust your guardians, your journey is doomed to fail before it even begins," Sephiroth put in unexpectedly.

"I trust you both with my life," Cloud said, sighing and reaching for the greens. "I'm just not sure I trust him with my pride." Sephiroth smiled and inclined his head, acknowledging the point. "I'm just going to throw them up again, you know."

"Try them and see," was all Zack would say.

Cloud broke off a generous sprig and popped it in his mouth. It tasted... well, green. He couldn't come up with any other word for it. He chewed it, the tough fibres grinding but not really giving way beneath his teeth, producing a faint trickle of minty juice.

Almost immediately the worst of his nausea subsided. Cloud nearly choked in surprise, then coughed and chewed a little more vigorously. "It helps," he said, thrilled. "I wouldn't want to eat anything, but I'm not about to lose my breakfast anymore, either." The sensation still lingered, but it was much easier to ignore. Maybe this journey wouldn't be such a torment after all.

"I've got more than enough to last the whole trip," Zack declared. He looked justifiably smug. "Can't have our summoner wasting away to nothing before we even get to Luca! So, now that you're not clinging to the rail like a lifeline, want me to show you around the ship a little?"

"Yes, please!" Cloud agreed eagerly.

Sephiroth chuckled. "Yes, go help Zack run off some of his energy so he doesn't go stir-crazy. I'll stay here in the shade, thank you."

"Spoilsport," Zack laughed. "C'mon, Cloud. We'll leave old Sourpuss McLazybones here to his beauty sleep while we have some fun."

Instead of dragging out in an eternity of illness, the day flew by in a whirlwind of fun and new experiences. Cloud already knew that Zack was familiar with ships, but he hadn't realized how much his guardian knew about them. He also hadn't realized that Zack knew almost everyone on the ship at least by sight - and if he didn't already know them, he quickly charmed them into friendliness.

Zack showed him the massive paddles churning the water at the back of the boat, and took him down below to greet the chocobos who powered them by running endlessly in a set of giant wheels. Cloud got a tour of the bridge, and peeked into the room that held the huge gears connecting the paddles and the chocobo wheels. He even managed to eat a light lunch, which was arguably the highlight of the day.

"You look like you had fun," Sephiroth observed when they both returned, sun-flushed and windblown, to the top deck.

"I had no idea boats were so interesting," Cloud exclaimed. "I didn't even know there were chocobos, or anything. Zack knows everything." He'd developed a touch of hero-worship for his guardian over the course of the day. Which was only fair, really, considering the way he already idolized Sephiroth.

"The greens seem to have worked their promised magic," Sephiroth noted, smiling at him. "The wind has picked up, but the waves don't seem to be bothering you at all."

Surprised, Cloud looked out over the water and realized he was right. The earlier glass-smooth surface had vanished into a froth of small wavelets, and the boat was rocking quite a bit. Yet Cloud was still only a little nauseated, easily ignored. "Thanks, Zack," he said, the words warm and sincere. "I was really dreading this, but it's been a great day."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, no problem," Zack answered, distracted as he stared out over the water. The clouds were still sitting on the western horizon, but they were no longer a thin mist. Piles upon piles of them broke the line between water and sky, reaching in some places high enough to make Cloud feel dwarfed, and they were a dark grey in colour. Dim flashes lit the clouds from within at irregular intervals, and Cloud shivered as he realized it was lightning.

"Is it going to storm after all?" Cloud asked uneasily.

"Maybe, but I'm sure it's nothing," Zack said, obviously making an effort to sound reassuring. He turned away from the rail and clapped Cloud on the shoulder. "Let's go check out our quarters. You're the only summoner on the ship, so we get the reserved cabin all to ourselves."

"Reserved cabin?" Cloud repeated, surprised. He followed Zack back down the stairs, and this time Sephiroth came with them.

"Sure," Zack said. "This is one of the main ferries between Kilika and Luca, so they see lots of summoners between calms. As a courtesy they keep one cabin reserved if there's a summoner aboard." He stopped in front of a discreetly marked door and threw it open with a grin. "Ta-dah... what the fuck?"

The room within was complete chaos. Their bags - Zack's and Sephiroth's bags, really - had been brought down, and someone had torn into them and scattered their belongings everywhere. Almost everything had been broken, torn, or otherwise ruined. The bedding on the berths had been knotted together - and from the smell of it, someone had used it as a toilet as well. Written in what looked like charcoal across one wall was a single word: 'Heretic'.

Cloud stood there, gaping, torn between rage and humiliation. "I guess somebody noticed I'm Al Bhed," he said, his voice tight. He started to pick his way forward, hoping to at least salvage some of their equipment, but Sephiroth grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"Let the ship's crew take care of the mess," Sephiroth said quietly. "Zack, you stay here and watch over him while I speak to the captain. People who are willing to go this far might be tempted by an opportunity to act more directly, and they must still be on the ship somewhere."

"They won't get the chance," Zack promised, his eyes snapping with outrage. He shut the door again to block the worst of the stench, and gestured for Cloud to wait across the hall.

The ship's mate who hurried down the stairs a few minutes after Sephiroth's departure was pale and sweating, and looked oddly nervous. Cloud eyed him warily as he approached, but the man stopped just out of arm's reach and bowed to Cloud. "The captain sends his regrets and apologies, my l-lord summoner," he said, stumbling only a little over the title. "We'll clean up the mess right away, and he respectfully offers one of our other cabins for you tonight."

"And our belongings?" Sephiroth prompted, coming down behind the man.

The mate gulped and glanced over his shoulder at the former summoner. Cloud had to bite his lip on a laugh as he realized why the man was so anxious. It wasn't guilt, as he'd first thought, but rather an understandable and very healthy fear of Sephiroth's displeasure. Having seen the man deliver one scathing dressing-down in Besaid already, Cloud had a certain amount of sympathy for innocents caught in Sephiroth's fury.

"Anything we can fix or salvage we'll give to you in the morning," the sailor said. He hesitated, but when Sephiroth gave him a pointed look, he added unhappily, "Anything that needs replacement will be our own expense, of course."

"Thank you," Cloud said, doing his best to play the part of the dignified summoner. He even bowed to the man, making the sign of Yevon.

"The room in the far corner is unoccupied," the man said, pointing at the door furthest from the soiled cabin. "It's much smaller, but..."

"But we're just one summoner and a couple of guardians, not a whole big party," Zack said, apparently taking pity on the man. "We'll manage."

The room was indeed much smaller, with only four narrow hammocks slung from posts instead of berths built into the walls, and almost no room for luggage. Cloud could immediately see why the room was still empty; it was right next to the engine room, and he could hear the creaking of gears and the occasional strident 'wark' from the other side of the wall. The mate was eyeing him anxiously, looking like he expected a tantrum of some kind in response.

Cloud smiled. "It will be nice to be able to hear the birds," he said. "Practically like being at home." Obviously relieved that Cloud wasn't going to kick up a fuss, the mate bowed again and hurried off.

"Well," Zack said, leaning his sword against the wall before settling easily into one of the hammocks. "This isn't so bad, really. Could have been a lot..."

Cloud just barely managed to get a hand over his guardian's mouth in time to stop him from finishing the sentence. Unfortunately his hasty lunge also tipped the hammock over and dumped Zack out, getting them both tangled up in the process.

"Don't say it," Cloud scolded his bemused friend. Sephiroth, chuckling, moved to help untangle them. "Just don't ever say things like that. The universe is always happy to prove that you're right -things can always get worse."

The first real crash of thunder jolted Cloud out of a sound sleep. He flailed in the darkness, disoriented, and spilled right out of his hammock as the world tilted on its axis.

A strangled yelp came from Zack's direction, but anything he might have said was drowned out by a second peal of thunder, and then a third. Something crashed and shattered, and the tiny, flickering glow of the banked lantern abruptly became the bright light of full flame. Cloud smelled oil and smoke somewhere nearby, and fought off a surge of panic.

"Blizzara," Sephiroth snapped, and ice crystals smothered the flames. That left them in total darkness except for the intermittent flashes of lightning, but Cloud was grateful.

"What's going..." Cloud's question was cut off as the ship heaved again, and his stomach heaved with it. The calming effects of the greens had long since worn off, and he had to swallow a rush of bile.

"Looks like that storm hit after all," Zack shouted between crashes of thunder. "We must have set sail right before the warnings came in."

"Should we go up on deck and try to help?" Sephiroth called.

In the next flash, Cloud saw Zack shaking his head, his expression grim. "No, the best thing we can do now is stay out of the way. I just hope they got the sails furled in time."

"What happens if they didn't?" Cloud asked, fighting with his unhappy stomach. If Zack answered him, he missed it when the ship heaved again and tossed them all against the far wall of the cabin. Cloud landed on something soft, and heard a grunt from Sephiroth nearby. A moment later strong arms wrapped around his waist, and he blushed as he realized he'd landed on his guardian.

"Hold tight to me," Sephiroth shouted into his ear. Cloud nodded and clung to the bigger man. Sephiroth was tall enough to be able to brace his legs on the other wall of the narrow cabin, keeping them relatively secure. Somewhere not too far away Cloud could hear Zack muttering curses to himself, but he sounded determined rather than afraid.

On the other side of the wall Cloud could hear the frantic warking of the chocobos, and from somewhere above came the occasional shout and pounding feet of the sailors. The scent of brine and seaweed was overpowering, overlaid by the sharp smell of ozone.

Sephiroth's body was warm and solid beneath him. Cloud was desperately trying not to throw up on him. Fear, oddly enough, helped him to keep his dinner down, but it left him paralysed in exchange. He knew how to swim, but all his practicing had been in placid little mountain lakes and the calm expanse of the Moonflow. If the ship broke up and dumped them in the water, he was certain he would drown.

It took Cloud a moment to realize that the shaking he could feel wasn't a result of him shivering in terror, but rather the feel of the deck vibrating oddly beneath them. In the next lull of thunder he heard an odd, hollow groaning noise, followed by several sharp cracks like bones snapping. Though he'd never been terribly superstitious, to Cloud the noises sounded like a hungry ghost coming to pull them down to share its watery grave.

"Get against the outside wall, as fast as you can!" Zack shouted. Cloud had never heard him sound so panicked. "Seph, quick, the mainmast is coming down, it'll land right on top of us!"

Sephiroth's arms tightened around Cloud's waist, yanking him to one side as the bigger man rolled them over. The cracking became an ear-splitting crash, and Cloud gave an involuntary shout as the world seemed to explode into splinters.

He braced himself for the expected pain as the slivers drove into his flesh, but he felt only an odd, dull pressure in several places. When he opened his eyes cautiously, he saw the debris being slowed and deflected by what could only be the glow of a protect spell. It was over between one crash of thunder and the next, and then rain was pounding down on them from the new hole in the wall and roof.

The mast had come down just a little off centre, and crushed the cabin next to them while only tearing through the roof and one corner of their room. Cloud tried hard not to think about anyone who might have been on the other side of that wall. For that matter, if they'd still been in the cabin originally assigned to them, they'd probably have been crushed as well. Their unknown tormentor had unwittingly saved their lives.

The ship lurched again as it crested another wave, and what felt like a tonne of water crashed down on them through the hole. Caught by surprise, Cloud choked and sputtered, coughing as he came up into clear air again. The rain slammed hard against his exposed skin, and he could already feel the ship tilting up on the next wave.

"Here!" Zack shouted, and pressed something rough into Cloud's hands. "Tie this around your waist, then pass it around Seph!"

Belatedly Cloud realized that what he was holding was the long end of a piece of rope, scrounged from one of their hammocks by the feel of it. Zack had already tied it around himself, and held the other free end. Hastily Cloud wrapped the cord around his waist and knotted it a few times, then did the same for Sephiroth.

They had to pause again as another wave came roaring into the cabin. This time Cloud was able to get a good breath and hold it, so he wasn't flailing to try to get back to the air. In the eerie calm imposed by the water, the thunder crashes sounded distant and unreal. More clear was the same horrible groaning noise that had preceded the fall of the mast. There were no snapping sounds accompanying it, not yet, but Cloud had a sinking feeling it wouldn't take long.

They surfaced again, still tied together by the rope. "We need to get out of here," Zack shouted. "The whole cabin sounds like it's ready to collapse. Follow my lead, and try to stay out of the way of the sailors."

He waited for the next wave to come, then kicked off the floor and let himself be pulled out of the cabin through the ruined wall along with the receding water. Cloud was nearly yanked off his feet when the rope tugged sharply at his waist, but he swam after Zack as well as he could. Sephiroth followed right behind him, moving carefully to keep from getting his long sword snagged on any debris.

The pull of the water was strong, and before Cloud knew it they were out of the cabin. The rail was coming up fast, with nothing but open ocean beyond it. For a horrible moment Cloud thought that Zack had miscalculated and they would be swept right off the ship.

Then the rope at his waist pulled tight and halted his momentum, just as the water level dropped enough that he was able to get his head above water. Panting for air, he glanced back to see that Zack had caught the edge of the wall as he'd passed, and was holding them in place. "Quick, Seph!" Zack called his voice strained with the effort of holding against all their weight. "Tie the rope to the rail before the next wave comes!"

Sephiroth was already working before the last words had left Zack's mouth. In seconds he had lashed his end of the rope securely to the railing. On the next wave Zack let go and swam the short distance to the rail as well, and tied his free end on. Thus assured that they wouldn't be swept overboard, Cloud let himself breathe a sigh of relief.

Now he was able to turn his attention to the rest of the ship. Sailors ran frantically here and there, struggling with water-logged ropes and sails, to not much effect Cloud could see. The bridge had been ruined by the collapse of the mast as well, and there was no sign of the captain, but Cloud spotted the first mate shouting orders from the wheel.

A few other passengers were crawling out of the cabins or clinging to any solid surface. Cloud would have felt sorry for them, without two powerful guardians to help keep them safe, but he was too worried about their own safety.

"Should we summon?" he called to Sephiroth, uncertain. "There has to be something we can do!"

Sephiroth shook his head. "Aeons can do nothing against the forces of nature," he said grimly. "All we would accomplish would be to frighten the sailors, make them think that fiends or even Sin itself was nearby."

Cloud grimaced. He hadn't thought of that, but of course that would be the first thought to occur to most people. Summoners didn't call upon their aeons lightly.

"All we can do is pray," Zack said from his other side. "I know you don't believe in Yevon, but you might try invoking whatever power it is the Al Bhed do believe in. We can use all the help we can get."

If there were any Al Bhed gods, Cloud's mother had neglected to mention them to him. Instead he bowed his head and prayed fervently to the fayth, asking them to watch over him and his guardians. He thought he heard a faint echo of the hymn in response; perhaps it was Jymavun and Evned's way of comforting him.

The ship groaned and shuddered again as it climbed another huge wave. Cloud opened his eyes just in time to see the crest of the wave looming over them, the slope looking far too steep for the ship to climb. Somehow they made it over the top, but the ship canted oddly sideways as it slid down the other side.

The shouts of the crew took on a more frantic tenor, and Cloud saw Zack's hands go white-knuckled on the rail. "C'mon, get her turned, get her turned," Zack chanted, his eyes locked on the oncoming swell.

Cloud wasn't sure he actually wanted to know the answer, but morbid curiosity impelled him to ask. "What happens if the ship doesn't turn?"

It was Sephiroth who answered him. "If the wave hits us broadside - sideways, on the long axis of the ship - we will almost certainly be capsized."

Swallowing hard, Cloud returned to his prayers, wishing he'd kept his mouth shut after all.

He had no idea how far was 'far enough', but the crew must have managed it because the ship only rose and plunged and rose again, never rolling onto its side. Cloud was frankly too terrified to be sick, which was just as well or he'd probably have puked on both his guardians.

After what seemed a lifetime and a half of thunder and lightning and waves, the rain finally began to lighten. The wind stopped competing with the waves to try to knock them off the ship. When Cloud looked up again it was still storming, but although the waves were still high they no longer rose above the ship itself.

"Is it over?" he heard himself ask plaintively.

A passing crewmember overheard and stopped to answer him. "Almost. I think we're through the worst of it. Don't untie yourselves just yet, though."

"It's not a hurricane, is it?" Zack asked anxiously. "We're not just coming into the eye?"

"No, it seems to be just a really bad storm," the sailor assured them.

"Did we lose anybody?" Zack wanted to know.

"The captain died when the mast went down," the sailor confirmed. "Several of the passengers and crew as well. Nobody went overboard, thank Yevon."

"Lucky for you, eh Tiran?" Zack said with a relieved grin. "Never did meet a sailor that could swim worth a damn, but you're worse than most."

The man smiled back. "Hey, not everybody can be a blitz star," he joked in return. "Some of us actually do work to make a living."

He turned to go, and Cloud relaxed a little more. The fact that the man had talked to them for so long said better than words ever could that the worst danger was past. "You know him?" he asked Zack curiously.

"Yeah, his family lives like, three houses down from mine," Zack said. "He taught me to swim, actually, which is why I was teasing him. In a week I was swimming circles around him, poor guy."

Cloud laughed, and ended up with a mouthful of saltwater when another wave rose high enough over the side to splash him. He coughed and sputtered, and then Zack was the one laughing at him.

As if to mock them for relaxing, one last lightning bolt lashed down out of the sky, so white it was blinding. Cloud shouted in startled reflex, but he couldn't hear his own voice over the roar of thunder that accompanied the lightning. His ears rang even after the thunder faded, but not enough to block the cracking noise that was quickly joined by shouts and screams from the crew. Cloud looked over just in time to see the secondary mast crash to the deck, split almost perfectly in half by the lightning. The piece that remained standing was burning despite the rain pouring down on it, while the part that had fallen got caught in the next wave and was pulled overboard. One hapless crewman, pinned beneath it when it fell, was knocked over the side with it to disappear into the water.

"Man overboard!" somebody shouted, and ropes were immediately flung over the side. Even from where he stood Cloud could see it was hopeless. The ship was moving so fast that the drowning man was already out of reach of the ropes, and in moments they would leave him behind entirely. As he was swept past only a few feet from Cloud and his guardians, Cloud got a good look at the man's terrified face and recognized him as the same crewman who'd stopped to talk to them just minutes before.

Zack recognized him as well. "Tiran! Shit, I've gotta do something, he'll drown! Seph, watch Cloud, I'll be right back."

Before Cloud realized what he was planning, Zack drew a knife and hacked right through the thin cords binding him to Cloud and the railing. Cloud shouted and lunged for him, but his fingers closed on empty air as Zack scrambled up and over the rail in a controlled dive.

"Zack!" Cloud screamed, and only the rope around his own waist stopped him from mindlessly throwing himself after his guardian. A moment later Sephiroth had grabbed him firmly around the chest, keeping him in place.

"You can't go after him," Sephiroth said. His voice was grim, and when Cloud looked up at him, he saw the other man staring at the place where Zack had disappeared into the water with grief in his eyes.

"We have to do something, they'll get left behind," Cloud shouted, thrashing in Sephiroth's grip. Now that the first mindless panic was over he knew his guardian was right; throwing himself into the water wasn't going to accomplish anything but getting him drowned. But he couldn't just leave Zack to die.

"There's nothing we can do," Sephiroth insisted. "Zack is a remarkably strong swimmer; he may yet be able to catch up with the ship." Though his words were encouraging, his hopeless tone told Cloud he didn't believe it, either.

"No!" Though Cloud had only known them a few days, it already felt like Zack and Sephiroth were the most important people in his life. They'd been the first people to ever stand up for him, to really care about him and help him. Zack was the only person he'd ever met who could tease him and make him laugh, instead of leaving him feeling mocked and abused. Cloud was only just beginning to learn what friendship could really be like; he couldn't lose that now. He just couldn't.

His arms were pinned by Sephiroth, and there wasn't room to summon properly anyway. He threw back his head and screamed his defiance at the pounding storm and raging sea. "Jymavun!"

The shaft of light that pierced through the sky was far more dramatic against the storm than it had been on a sunny day. The clouds swirled around it like a vortex, and when Jymavun burst through it seemed like the aeon carried the sunlight with her. Cloud felt Sephiroth go rigid against his back, but all his concentration was on his aeon and he couldn't spare the thought to wonder why.

She came to hover beside the railing, her wings beating steadily against the twisting winds of the storm. "Help Zack," he begged her. He wasn't certain just what she could do, but it was better than standing there doing nothing.

She crooned at him and tugged at a lock of his water-logged hair with her massive beak, preening him like a little chick. Then she spread her wings wider still and did a flip in midair, streaking off behind the ship towards the place where Zack and the crewman had gone into the water. It was already far behind them, but when he strained Cloud thought he could just make out two dark heads bobbing in the water.

Jymavun overshot them and did a wingover, turning herself neatly. As she flew back to the ship she dipped low, her massive talons dragging through the water and sending up splashes of water on either side of her. Abruptly she lifted again, wings beating harder than ever but moving more slowly than before. Cloud bit back a sob of relief as he saw the two human-shaped burdens she clutched in her claws.

She flew over the deck and hovered again, just long enough to release the two men she carried. They came tumbling down to the deck, and she gave a piercing shriek that sounded to Cloud like laughter. Then she was gone again, dissolving into the rain in a swarm of pyreflies.

Sephiroth finally released Cloud, and there was just enough slack in the rope for him to kneel beside Zack. The older man was panting and looked a little dazed, staring at the place where the aeon had been. "So that's what flying is like," he said, his voice awed. "Wow." He blinked and focused on Cloud, and his expression softened. "Hey, kid, quit that." He reached up and touched Cloud's face, and only then did Cloud realize that some of the water on his cheeks was too warm to be rain. "I'd have been okay. Though I'm not ungrateful for the help!"

"Idiot," Cloud muttered, scrubbing at his face and trying to hide how very frightened he'd been. "You just... idiot! Do you realize how fast the ship is going?"

"Yeah, well, I kinda wasn't thinking about that when I jumped," Zack admitted sheepishly. "But really, I'd have managed." He glanced over Cloud's shoulder, and his eyes widened.

Nervously Cloud looked as well, and what he saw left him staring open-mouthed with amazement. Everyone on the ship but Zack and Sephiroth was bowing to him, their hands held in the attitude of prayer. The sailors in particular were bent nearly double, and Tiran was right down on his knees.

"Go back to your duties," Sephiroth called, his voice firm but not stern for once. "We are not out of danger yet." Another toss of the ship emphasized his words, and the sailors hastily scrambled to return to the work they had been doing to keep the ship on course. The other passengers milled together some distance from Cloud and his guardians, eyeing them and whispering among themselves. Resolutely Cloud turned his back on them, determined to ignore them.

"Hey, not that I'm not grateful or anything, but are they supposed to do that?" Zack asked in a low voice as he climbed shakily to his feet again. "The aeons, I mean. I thought you were only supposed to summon them in a battle?"

Cloud looked at him, dismayed. Was that why everyone was ogling him? Had he yet again broken another rule of summoning that he hadn't even known existed?

"It is not that it isn't permitted," Sephiroth said slowly, an odd look in his eyes as he studied Cloud. It wasn't the same sort of staring that the sailors and passengers were doing, but a softer and almost awed look. "Rather it is simply that most summoners cannot bring the aeons forth except in extreme circumstances, which usually means they are already engaged in battle. There have been some, most notably the majority of the high summoners, who were able to call on their aeons at will. I have only heard of a few throughout history who were capable of doing it without at least some semblance of a summoning ritual."

Cloud shifted uneasily, staring at his feet rather than meet that strange expression. He had an uncomfortable suspicion that Zack might be looking at him that way as well now, and he didn't want to confirm it.

[Fic] A Long Road To Destiny - FFVII/FFX - Zack, Cloud & Sephiroth - 5/25?

2009-07-08T18:31:43Z

Finally have some time off work, and I'm slowly recovering from exhaustion and burnout. I'll write as I am able to. Hopefully this bloody headache will go away soon. I'm now on day 28. ;p

Title: A Long Road to Destiny
Series: FFVII/FFX fusion
Pairing: Cloud, Zack & Sephiroth
Rating: R
Warnings: violence, angst, swearing, the usual
Chapter length: 5705
Total length: 28,150

The summoner's journey is a long, hard path to walk. Having guardians you trust makes all the difference in the world.

Something fizzed over Cloud, a jolt of power that skittered over his nerves like a pyrefly over the Moonflow. He gasped and coughed, wondering why it was so easy to breathe. He remembered the searing pain of the cold air after the fire, remembered the way his lungs had shrieked in protest and every inch of his skin had throbbed with the pain of his burns. Why didn't he hurt now?

He opened his eyes, dazed, and found Zack and Sephiroth crouched over him. "I don't think it worked," Zack was saying, looking worried and fearful. "Maybe another phoenix down would help?"

"No, he's awake," Sephiroth murmured, and nodded at Cloud. Zack looked down at him, his expression both relieved and fearful.

"Hey, kid. You okay? You gave us a hell of a scare, there," Zack murmured. He got one arm behind Cloud's shoulders and helped him to sit up. "Can you talk? What happened?"

Slowly memory returned. He wasn't in Nibelheim, and nothing was burning around him. The fire in the doorway was gone, and Sephiroth held the Kilika sphere that had caused it to appear. Shivering, Cloud looked away from it. "I'm okay," he croaked, though he felt anything but. "I'm sorry. I just... I'm sorry."

"You've been caught in a fire yourself," Sephiroth said, sounding certain. "That's why you're so frightened of it."

Miserably Cloud nodded. He knew his guardians deserved an explanation for his shameful behaviour, but it hurt to even think of talking about it. It was the worst memory he had, and just thinking of it was enough to bring the horror and pain crashing back down on him. Somehow he forced his voice to work, the words emerging shaky but understandable. "I was ten. There had been a drought that spring and summer, and even the snowmelt hadn't helped. A thunderstorm swept through in the middle of the night, and the whole area went up like kindling." He shuddered, and Zack rubbed his shoulder encouragingly.

"Most of the town burned to the ground," Cloud continued doggedly, fixing his gaze on the safe solidity of the stone floor in a vain attempt not to see the flames in his mind's eye. "The winds made it impossible to stop the fire before it spread. We lived on the outside of the village, and by the time it got to us..." He closed his eyes, unable to describe what it had been like when the fire had roared over their house, waking him in the night.

"Wait." Zack sounded confused, and Cloud glanced up to see him frowning. "If you were one of the last houses hit, there should have been plenty of time for someone to warn you to get out. How'd you get caught?" Grimly Cloud looked back at him, giving his guardian the full view of his damned eyes, and said nothing. Horror and outrage dawned on Zack's face. "They didn't. They just left you to die because you're Al Bhed?"

"Afterwards, they said they were too busy trying to stop the fire," Cloud said bitterly. "That they hadn't thought it would get as far as us. That they assumed we would hear the shouting, or that we had already gotten out. Some of them even meant it." Tifa had apologized to him later with tears in her eyes, saying she'd been too busy trying to help her sickly mother get out of their own home next door, and he'd believed that she at least had been sincere.

"You humble me," Sephiroth murmured, surprising Cloud. "You have suffered far more than I, and more cruelly. Yet you are determined to make this journey despite all the odds against you, while I stew in my bitterness and refuse to save them."

"Like Zack said, not all Spirans are prejudiced assholes," Cloud admitted, uncomfortable with the way Sephiroth was looking at him. "And I have a promise that I have to keep. Besides." He laughed, the sound containing little mirth, and finally admitted the truth. "A large part of why I'm doing this is so I can thumb my nose at all of them. It's just my own way of showing bitterness."

"And you'll do it, too," Zack said, patting his back. "You've made it this far, against worse odds than I thought. How did you survive the fire, though?"

"There's a former guardian who sometimes comes to my village, to help us with the fiends and to train anyone who wants to learn to defend themselves," Cloud told him. "Sir Zangan happened to be camping nearby that night, and he came running when he saw the flames. He used ice spells to put the fires out, and he healed us afterwards." He looked down at his arms, where the burns had been worst. Only the faintest of scars showed there now, thanks to Zangan's magic. Unfortunately his mother had been far more badly burned; she carried visible scars to this day, though Zangan had kept her from dying or being crippled. "If not for him, my mother and I probably wouldn't be alive now."

"I know of Sir Zangan," Sephiroth said. "I've heard nothing but good said of him, though I've never met him myself. I'm sure he would be proud of you, now."

"Maybe we'll run into him on the journey," Zack said. "I'd like to thank him, myself. After all," he grinned at Cloud. "If not for him, I'd be short one summoner. Are you able to keep going?"

Cloud looked at the doorway nervously. It was clear now, with no sign of the fire that had filled it only minutes before, but he didn't trust it. "What if it comes back while I'm walking through it?"

"It will not," Sephiroth assured him. "It is merely a test of courage. As I said before, the fayth's intention is to test you, not to harm you."

"But what if that's the part the priests sabotaged?" Cloud persisted, sweating at the thought. "What if they rigged it so it will come back?"

"He's got a point, Seph," Zack said. He stood, and eyed the doorway, then shrugged. "Oh, well. Only one way to find out, I guess."

Before Cloud could realize what he intended or do anything to stop him, Zack stepped through the doorway. Cloud shouted a belated protest, but no flames licked out at his guardian. Zack made it through to the other side completely unscathed.

"What?" Zack asked, turning back to laugh at Cloud's horror. "No big deal. Not like Seph couldn't have healed me if it had hit me. The fire wasn't that bad."

Cloud could only shake his head, his voice lost in his terror and relief.

"Are you trying to give your poor summoner a heart attack, Zack?" Sephiroth asked dryly. "You're supposed to be preserving his life, not attempting to cut it short." He offered Cloud a hand up.

Feeling embarrassed that he needed the help, Cloud accepted his hand and let Sephiroth pull him to his feet. He was still a little unsteady, but he managed to stand on his own with no further assistance.

Even with Zack's example it took every bit of courage Cloud had to make himself step through the doorway. Cloud couldn't shake the irrational fear that the fire was just waiting for him. Sephiroth's solid presence at his back helped, as did the encouraging smile Zack gave him from the other side.

And then he was through, no worse for wear. Nothing terrible had happened; there wasn't so much as a whiff of smoke. Cloud let himself breathe again, shoulders slumping with relief.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Zack said. "Just trust us to protect you, okay? That's our job."

"You make it sound so easy," Cloud said. He looked hopefully at Sephiroth. "I don't suppose that was the worst of it?" To his dismay, but not really to his surprise, Sephiroth shook his head. Cloud sighed. "I was afraid of that. All right, let's go."

Somehow Cloud managed to keep his composure for the most part, though it wasn't just the heat that had him sweating as they progressed through the Trial. When they reached a room with a pit filled with fire, his attempt to stay calm started to fall apart. He stared at the door on the far side, trying to find some way to get to it that didn't involve going through the pit. Of course there was probably a way to turn the fire off, but he wasn't sure he could bring himself to walk the length of that, knowing the flames might return at any moment.

Zack was studying the lines on the floor and walls, trying to figure out what each sphere recess powered. Sephiroth stood back impassively, letting them solve the puzzle but keeping a sharp eye out for anything that didn't belong.

"Okay," Zack said finally, approaching a glowing Kilika sphere set into the wall above the pit. "So all we have to do is... huh?" He tugged at the sphere again, then yanked. It didn't budge. "Is it supposed to do that?" he asked, scratching his head. "Because I'm pretty sure we need that one to go over there."

Sephiroth approached, frowning. "All the spheres should be movable," he said, pulling at it himself. The smooth surface offered no purchase, and he fared no better than Zack had.

Cloud's stomach sank. "Let me guess. That's the one that turns off the fire down there."

"Looks like it," Zack confirmed, sighing. "How were they planning to let the next summoner through, though?"

"Undoubtedly they have a solvent for whatever fixative it is they've used," Sephiroth said. "However, there is more than one way to put out a fire."

Cloud felt the tingle of rising energy, and a soprano voice sang the Hymn softly over the crackle of the fire. Another voice answered it, a deep thrum that somehow managed to give an impression of being opposed to the soprano despite being in perfect harmony.

Ice crystals swept over the surface of Sephiroth's sword, racing towards the point where they burst free into the air. A massive crystal formed right before the summoner, and Cloud blinked as he realized there was a blue-skinned woman trapped inside. This had to be Macalania's aeon, the queen of ice.

The crystal shattered abruptly, leaving her standing beside Sephiroth, inhumanly beautiful. They almost looked like they belonged together, with Sephiroth's ice-pale hair and skin. Cloud glanced at Zack, and found his other guardian staring at the aeon, clearly entranced.

Sephiroth inclined his head, the summoner acknowledging his aeon. "Tiphereth, if you would be so kind?"

She smiled at him, and Cloud heard Zack sigh in admiration. "Now that is a woman," Zack commented.

"Too much for you to handle," Cloud teased him, watching in fascination as the aeon gestured at the fire pit below. Ice crystals began to form there, and Cloud thought he could hear the deeper version of the Hymn vibrating in anger. Sizzling and cracking noises filled the air as the flames fought to melt the ice.

For a moment it looked like the fire would win. Then the aeon snapped her fingers and the whole room exploded in ice and frost. The flames sputtered and died, and the aeon looked smug.

"Thank you, my dear," Sephiroth murmured, smiling back at her. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, and winked deliberately at Cloud. Then she dissolved back into a cloud of pyreflies.

"Hey, Cloud, I think she likes you," Zack said, elbowing him.

"Ow. I hope she still feels the same way when we get to Macalania," Cloud said, rubbing his ribs.

"Worry first about the aeon you must face today," Sephiroth advised. "I'm afraid the fayth isn't likely to appreciate having his Trial interfered with by his opposite element. Zack, grab the Kilika sphere we left in the antechamber, we'll need it to open the door. Come quickly, the fire will return eventually."

That reminder nearly sent Cloud running in the other direction. He froze, heart hammering in his throat, panic at the thought of crossing the pit freezing his feet as surely as the aeon had frozen the fire.

"Steady," Zack said, pushing gently on his shoulder. "Just take it one step at a time, kid."

Somehow Cloud got his feet moving; first one, then the other, until the stairs down into the pit were before him. When he reached the bottom step panic got the better of him and he bolted, needing to get out of the place where the flames had been as quickly as possible. Thankfully in his fear he simply ran in the direction he'd already been facing, and so ended up crossing the pit without even being really aware of it.

Sephiroth caught him at the top of the stairs on the other side, or Cloud might well have brained himself running straight into the wall. Zack emerged right behind him, sphere in hand. Gulping for air, Cloud turned in Sephiroth's arms to look back. Frost still covered the stones of the passage, though he could see places where it was beginning to melt. They'd all made it safely across with time to spare.

"Not bad," Zack said, laughing. "Wish I'd had a timer on me. That was a hell of a sprint. Ever thought about training as a blitzer?"

Cloud blushed and shook his head. "I doubt the Psyches would have me. Anyway, I had other things I wanted to do." Not that he hadn't thought about it, but then what child growing up on Spira didn't imagine becoming a blitzball star?

"Well, if you ever change your mind - like, if someone else defeats Sin before we get there, I mean - think about it. The Psyches aren't the only team who would take you."

"Recruit him later, Zack," Sephiroth said. "For now, let him concentrate on the Trial and the fayth. We're not out of trouble until he has the aeon."

Reminded that he still had more of the Trial to face - not to mention that he was going to have to go through that pit a second time to get out - Cloud made himself focus. "I just hope the fayth isn't too irritated about us cheating," he said as they moved through the next door.

"Unfortunately Kilika's fayth is not known for his easy-going nature," Sephiroth said. "Better to hope that he places the blame where it belongs, on the priests who forced us to take that step."

"Nice job encouraging him, Seph," Zack said with a sympathetic grin as Cloud groaned.

Thankfully they reached the chamber of the fayth without running into any more traps. "Wonder what the priests think we're doing in here for so long," Zack chuckled. "Since they'll be assuming that we're stuck at the firepit."

"Likely they'll assume we're stubbornly attempting to find a way across," Sephiroth replied. He looked oddly uncomfortable, shifting restlessly, with a troubled expression on his face.

"Are you okay?" Cloud asked him, concerned. "You don't think they trapped the chamber, do you?"

"What?" Sephiroth blinked at him, and Cloud had to repeat his question. "Oh. No, I don't think they'd risk the direct wrath of the fayth," he said, shaking his head. "Forgive me, I am... preoccupied. Din is restless, so close to his home."

It took Cloud a moment to realize that he was referring to his aeon, the piece of the Kilika fayth's power that he held within him. Cloud tried to imagine what it would be like to have that many aeons, and couldn't. Just having Jymavun's power made it feel like his skin wasn't quite big enough to hold him.

Well, he was about to find out what it was like to have at least two aeons, assuming this one didn't succeed in killing him where Besaid's had failed.

"This time I will wish you good luck, since we can only hope the fayth is reasonable," Zack said, smiling encouragingly. "So, good luck."

"Thanks," Cloud said, proud that his voice was only a little shaky. Once more he stepped inside a Chamber of the Fayth, letting the door close between him and his guardians. Out of curiosity, Cloud tested the door, and wasn't in the least surprised to find it locked.

"Looking for a way out already?"

Cloud spun, startled, and found the fayth already hovering over the buried statue. This one was a man in the prime of his life, battle-scarred and with the muscles of a warrior, dressed not unlike the Crusaders Cloud had seen. He was watching Cloud with a derisive expression in his eyes that made Cloud's shoulders go tense. He'd seen that look from too many Spirans, especially recently. Was this fayth just another closed-minded, prejudiced asshole?

The fayth smiled, mocking him. "You don't have the guts to go all the way," the fayth declared. "I've seen your type before. Always looking for the escape route, 'just in case'. Always relying on others to do the hard work for you. You'll back out at the first sign of real difficulty."

Stung by the accusations, Cloud bit his lip to stop himself from saying anything rash. The fayth's words only hurt because they struck too close to home. He had been relying on Zack and Sephiroth too much.

On the other hand... "You have no idea what I've been through just to get this far," he said through gritted teeth. "Yes, I needed help, but that's why summoners have guardians. I'll make it if kills me."

The fayth's smile darkened, and Cloud gulped, regretting his rash promise. The fayth lifted a hand, palm up, and a ball of fire gathered between his fingers. "Prove it," he taunted softly. "Take my power, and prove yourself worthy, if you've got the guts."

Cloud eyed the flame nervously. It burned with all the colours of fire, so hot at the centre it was intensely white. He wanted to tell himself this was just a test of courage like the Trial, that it wouldn't truly harm him. Something in the fayth's eyes told him it wouldn't be that easy.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Cloud demanded, anguished. First Besaid, and now Kilika. Were they just taunting him with a dream he would never have?

"If you cannot handle the tests we give you, then you are not the champion we need," the fayth said scornfully. "You'll face far worse than this before the end."

Cloud looked again at the ball of fire, and swallowed hard. Every instinct he had was screaming at him to flee.

"Now, will you take my power and become a warrior for us? Or will you run home to hide behind your mama's skirts? I'll even make an exception for you and open the door," the fayth taunted him.

Cloud reached inside himself and touched the core of power that was his connection to Jymavun. She sent him a burst of wordless encouragement, and he clung to the memory of the moment when he'd first summoned her. The pain she'd put him through had been worth it in the end. He had to believe this would be, too.

Before he could change his mind - or perhaps come to his senses - Cloud reached out with both hands to grab at the fayth's power.

Agony shot through him, and the sickening scent of cooking meat filled the room. Cloud screamed and tried to yank his hands back, but the fire came with him. It sank slowly into his skin, filling his veins with acid.

Then it reached his heart, and Cloud discovered whole new levels of agony. He collapsed, his body completely out of his control as he writhed on the ground in pain. He couldn't feel his hands anymore, but if the horrible scent of burned meat was any indication, that was probably a mercy. He thought his heart was going to burst, and he wondered if it was burning too.

It went on and on, time stretching out and every second lasting an eternity of agony. It was worse than when he'd been caught in the fire as a child, a million times worse. At least then he'd passed out from pain and lack of air fairly quickly, and had been spared the full brunt of what had happened to him. This time something kept him from the oblivion of unconsciousness, forcing him to remain aware of everything that was happening to him.

Finally, as it had in Besaid, the fayth's power slowly began to settle inside him. Unlike in Besaid, however, this power had left true physical damage behind. Cloud retched with agony and the smell of his own burned flesh, curling up instinctively in a vain attempt to protect his damaged body.

"You'll do," he thought he heard the fayth murmur. "You just might be the one we need, after all." It released whatever grip it had on his mind, and Cloud was finally able to faint from the pain.

Cloud half roused when he felt the tingling energy of a life spell sweep over him. Unfortunately it healed him just enough that his body started registering the pain signals from his hands again, and he screamed with a voice already gone raw. Someone swore, and another spell was cast over him that plunged him back into the blessed oblivion of sleep.

The next time he woke, awareness came slowly, his mind fighting it out of a vague certainty that waking would be painful. Voices reached him through the haze of darkness, familiar and comforting.

"...can't be normal. Are they trying to kill him?"

"Summoners do die in prayer to the fayth, though it's very rare. But I cannot say I've ever heard of one being physically injured before." That was Sephiroth's voice, Cloud hazily identified.

"Are the priests right? Is what he's doing sacrilege?"

"If you doubt..."

"No. No, damn it, I don't doubt him. The priests are wrong, or he wouldn't have received the aeon at all. I'm just starting to doubt the sanity of the fayth!"

"Testing me," Cloud said, or tried to. It came out as an indistinct mumble. Reluctantly he forced his eyes open, and blinked blearily at Zack. In what was rapidly becoming a familiar sight, his guardian was watching over him with a worried expression.

"Hey, how're you feeling?" Zack asked when he saw that Cloud was awake.

"My hands..." Cloud was afraid to look at them. They weren't hurting, which could be a very bad sign.

"They seem to have healed well, but you should make certain you still have your full range of motion." Sephiroth's voice was far closer than Cloud had expected it to be, and he could feel the rumble in the wall he was leaning against. He looked up and realized to his incredible embarrassment that Sephiroth was carrying him like a little child.

Cloud felt his face go hot. "I can walk," he squeaked, mortified. How embarrassing that the man could carry him so easily. Cloud knew he wasn't exactly huge for his age, but he didn't think he was that scrawny.

"Your hands?" Sephiroth prompted, with no indication that he intended to set Cloud down.

Figuring that continuing to protest would only make him look sillier, Cloud obediently tried flexing his fingers. They felt a little stiff, but loosened up as he worked them. There wasn't even any scarring. "I think they're okay," he said, more relieved than words could possibly express. "Thank you."

"He shouldn't have needed to heal you in the first place," Zack burst out, gesturing angrily. "What the hell are they doing to you in there?"

"Testing me," Cloud repeated. "At least, that's what they said." He kept his eyes on his hands, still not really believing there was no damage. "Jymavun's fayth said she was testing my strength of will, and Evned's said he wanted to see my courage."

"You have the aeon, then," Sephiroth said. Cloud nodded. He could feel the heat of the new power within him, a seething flame next to Jymavun's calm energy. It was incredibly uncomfortable, and Cloud hoped it would settle in time and stop feeling quite so much like an actual fire burning inside him.

"Testing you? For what?" Zack looked at Sephiroth. "Is that normal?"

"It was not my experience, but I can't say whether it has ever happened before," Sephiroth replied, sounding troubled. "It isn't something that is discussed, even among summoners. The experience is intensely private."

"Well, that's useful." Zack sighed. "We'd better find somewhere to hole up for a few days, until you recover. Somehow I don't trust the priests enough to be willing to stay at the temple, and apparently my first plan was a bit optimistic."

Cloud grimaced at the reminder of the disastrous scene with Zack's mother. There was still a deep but lingering hurt in his guardian's eyes, and Cloud would have done just about anything to be able to erase it.

For the first time since waking, he actually looked beyond his guardians, and he blinked. He'd thought they were still in the temple, perhaps making their way back through the Trial, but they were well into the forest outside. He could see the gates to Kilika itself just ahead. "How did you get me out of there?" it occurred to him to ask.

"Few minutes after you went in, the door opened again," Zack explained. "Seph went in when you didn't appear, and carried you out again."

"It should not have happened," Sephiroth said. When Cloud glanced up at him, he looked perturbed. "The door is only supposed to open when the triumphant summoner approaches with his or her new aeon - or when the summoner dies. You were unconscious, but certainly not dead."

"Maybe they're not trying to kill me after all." Cloud rested his head against Sephiroth's shoulder, trying not to be too incredibly self-conscious about being carried. It felt like every eye was on them as they entered the village, people pointing and whispering behind their hands. Cloud knew it wasn't his imagination when Zack moved so that Cloud was mostly hidden between him and Sephiroth, protecting him from the stares.

"I'm starting to think it might be a good idea to head for Luca sooner rather than later," Zack muttered, his gaze flicking back and forth over the crowded docks. "At least there, people see lots of Al Bhed, even in the company of Spirans. Damn it, why does my mother have to be the biggest gossip on the island?" To Cloud's surprise Zack looked miserable. "I'm sorry, Cloud. This is my fault. I screwed up."

"Don't blame yourself," Cloud said. "You couldn't have known."

"He is right," Sephiroth added. "You cannot spend time regretting past mistakes when your attention needs to be in the present, guarding your summoner."

Zack shook his head and squared his shoulders, appearing to take heart from Sephiroth's words. "You're right. We'll just have to..."

"Rao, oui!"

Cloud turned automatically at the sound of his first language, and found three angry-looking men heading straight for them. Goggles hid their eyes, but even if they hadn't spoken Cloud would have known them for Al Bhed by the wetsuits they wore. "Is something wrong?" he asked in the same language, a little nervously. Had they heard the gossip and were coming to confront him for being a summoner?

To his surprise, their angry gestures were clearly aimed at Zack and Sephiroth. "Did you think we wouldn't notice you taking one of us if you dressed him up like a Spiran?" the first man demanded, still in Al Bhed.

"Don't worry, kid, we've got your back," a second one added directly to Cloud. "What happened to the rest of your shipmates? Are you hurt?"

"Uh..." Cloud gaped at them, floundering for something to say.

"You are under a mistaken impression, gentlemen," Sephiroth said, his voice dry and accent flawless. The Al Bhed all stared to see a Spiran speak their language so well, just as Cloud had done when Sephiroth first spoke to him.

Zack was looking back and forth between Sephiroth and the Al Bhed, one hand on his sword hilt though he hadn't drawn it yet. "Someone wanna translate for those of us who only swear in Al Bhed?" he asked with a sort of grim humour.

"They think you're, I don't know, kidnapping me or something," Cloud told him. "Seph, put me down, please."

This time Sephiroth obeyed, though Cloud was dismayed to find that his legs were still too shaky to support him. Sephiroth had to steady him with a hand around his waist. "These are my... my friends," Cloud said in Al Bhed, changing his wording at the last moment. Telling these men that Zack and Sephiroth were his guardians was probably not a good idea. "They're helping me, not hurting me."

The Al Bhed looked surprised, and a little contemptuous, but their hands dropped away from their weapons. Sephiroth made a subtle gesture at Zack, who let go of his sword with obvious reluctance.

"Friends with Spirans? And dressed like one, too," the first man said. "Are you trying to pretend to be one?"

The third man, silent until now, nudged the first and leaned over to whisper. Cloud caught the words 'blue eyes', and knew they'd finally noticed that he was part Spiran. "I'm dressed like this because these are my clothes," he said anyway. "But... thank you for trying to rescue me." He did appreciate the sentiment - these Al Bhed were strangers to him, yet they'd been willing to risk their lives to protect him from they'd believed was danger.

Without thinking about it, he made the sign of Yevon and bowed to them. It had become an automatic gesture over the last few days. He realized halfway through what he'd done, and mentally kicked himself, but completed the gesture. If nothing else, it would emphasize that he wasn't one of them.

Sure enough when he raised his head, he saw them turning away with disgusted looks. Cloud sighed and rubbed his eyes, reminding himself that he might as well get used to it. It had been a nice change to deal with friendly Al Bhed on the way to Besaid, but now they would look on him with the same distrust and contempt as the Spirans.

"That went well?" Zack said, his inflection making it a question.

"As much as could be hoped for," Sephiroth said as they moved towards the docks again. "Nobody is injured or dying. But I think you may be right about leaving the island sooner rather than later."

Another Al Bhed was running towards them, a young woman. This one took no notice of them, tearing past them and heading straight for the group they had just left. "Hey, guys!" Cloud heard her call in Al Bhed. "You'll never guess what I just heard. The Spirans are totally up in arms, claiming that an Al Bhed raided the temple and forced the fayth to make him a summoner!"

"Uh-oh," Cloud muttered, going tense.

"They may not realize it's us the rumour is referring to," Sephiroth replied quietly.

Cloud gave him an incredulous look, then glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough the leader of the Al Bhed group was staring after him with a thoughtful expression that was rapidly darkening into anger. The man turned away and started talking to the others, gesturing emphatically, but they were now too far away for Cloud to hear their words. "I don't think we're going to be that lucky."

"More trouble?" Zack asked, reaching for his sword again.

"Don't," Sephiroth said, waving him off. "Going for your weapon first will only incite violence. They've offered no threat as of yet. We need to teach you Al Bhed, or your lack of understanding could become a larger problem in the future."

"Yeah, sure, in all our spare time," Zack said wryly. "One of these days."

Cloud was still watching the group of Al Bhed, but to his surprise they made no move to follow him. "Looks like they're just going to let us go," he said, not quite sure he believed it. "Maybe they just figure I'm too Spiran to bother themselves with."

"Or perhaps they are wise enough not to believe every rumour they overhear from a Spiran," Sephiroth pointed out. "In any case, clearly the Kilikans are not likely to welcome our further presence here. We'd best inquire about passage to Luca."

"Damn it, I really wanted to give Cloud a chance to eat something," Zack sighed. "Well, I'll see what I can do about getting something to help with that seasickness. Seph, can you take him for the moment? I'll go on ahead and arrange things."

"That might be wise," Sephiroth agreed. "I can protect him for the moment. Go."

Zack saluted him briefly, then turned and dove straight into the water off the side of the dock. He cut through the water like a pro, weaving through the slower traffic, and was out of sight in seconds.

Cloud and Sephiroth continued to walk at a more sedate pace, Cloud keeping his head down so his eyes wouldn't be immediately obvious to anyone who glanced at him. "Maybe I should buy a hood or something, to hide my hair, too," he sighed.

"Perhaps, but I don't think you'll find such a thing here," Sephiroth said, chuckling softly. "As you pointed out earlier, Kilikans seem to believe that less is more where clothing is concerned. Don't worry too much, Cloud. People will adjust, once the rumours have spread and the idea isn't so new. The more aeons you control, the less they can possibly protest that you don't deserve to be a summoner."

Looking down at his hands once more, Cloud could only hope that the trend wouldn't continue. If the next fayth was even more difficult to deal with than Evned's had been, he was certain he wouldn't survive long enough to need to worry about what the Spirans' future reactions might be.

[Fic] A Long Road To Destiny - FFVII/FFX - Zack, Cloud & Sephiroth - 4/25?

2009-06-25T04:10:10Z

Title: A Long Road to Destiny
Series: FFVII/FFX fusion
Pairing: Cloud, Zack & Sephiroth
Rating: R
Warnings: violence, angst, swearing, the usual
Chapter length: 5632
Total length: 22,445

The summoner's journey is a long, hard path to walk. Having guardians you trust makes all the difference in the world.

Zack was hanging over the railing, standing at the prow like an odd second figurehead, the wind of their passage ruffling his spiky hair and the spray off the bow leaving glittering drops of water on his skin. If Cloud hadn't already seen repeated examples of how agile his guardian was over the past two days, he'd have been worried about how far out the man was leaning. Zack could scramble over the ropes and masts as easily as any of the sailors. He strolled across the decks as if they were solid ground, though the seas had been fairly choppy on the two day trip between Besaid and Kilika.

If Cloud hadn't been so busy being sick the whole time, he might have hated his guardian for that easy competence. Any of the stunts Zack made look so easy would have landed Cloud in the water before he could say 'let's blitz'. As it was he could only cling to the rail with a death grip every time he had to lean over to throw up.

"Please tell me we're almost there," he begged miserably.

"I can see the peak from here," Zack assured him. "In a minute or two you'll be able to see the whole island. Look."

He pointed, and Cloud glanced forward. Sure enough the familiar conical shape of a volcano rose up out of the ocean's blue waters. Seeing it made Cloud feel a little better, and a little homesick. He was used to being surrounded by shapes like that, jagged peaks and smooth cones creating a skyline that was as unique as a snowflake. The endless flatness of the ocean disturbed him.

Unfortunately moving his eyes away from the steady line of the horizon made his nausea worse again. There was nothing left to bring up, but the bile burned in his throat until tears came to his eyes.

Zack patted his back. "You really weren't kidding about the seasickness, were you? We'd better spend a few days in Kilika resting up and getting you fed, or you're gonna waste away to nothing by the time we get to Luca."

When he was able to stop gagging, Cloud looked up at Zack and shook his head. "We can't afford it," he croaked.

"I've got some gil saved up, and there're fiends in the woods outside the temple. We should be able to make some gil hunting them," Zack assured him. "But that'll be just for supplies. Kilika is my hometown, and I've still got family here. Haven't spoken to them in a while, but I'm sure my mom and dad will let us crash there."

"Why haven't you spoken to them?" Cloud asked, studying his guardian curiously.

"Ran away from home to join the Crusaders," Zack said, shrugging. "Never quite had the courage to go home again and find out if I was forgiven. Not like they abused me or anything. Just, I never did take orders well. Always had to do things my own way, if you know what I mean."

"Which is why the Crusaders politely asked you leave after you'd been with them less than a year," Sephiroth said dryly as he joined them. "It was that or put you in charge, and the mere thought of you in a command position terrifies me. If nothing else, you'll want to make your peace with your family before we leave the island. A summoner's pilgrimage is dangerous, and not just for the summoner. Many guardians do not survive."

"Yeah, I know. That's why I'm gonna do it," Zack said. "What about you, Cloud? Got any loose ends you need to tie up before you go off to Zanarkand?"

"Yeah." Cloud fixed his eyes on the rapidly approaching shore. "Nibelheim is only a day off the path near the Calm Lands. I need to say goodbye to my mother." And show everyone that he was capable of making something of himself, but that felt like too petty a reason for a summoner to admit to. Wasn't he supposed to be some kind of shining light to the rest of Spira, now? Just being near Sephiroth made him feel like he had to live up to the image a summoner was supposed to project.

"Then we should certainly do that," Sephiroth agreed. "The purpose of the pilgrimage is not only for the summoner to pray at each temple, Cloud. It is to allow the summoner to put his mind at rest, deal with any issues that might cause him to feel regret. Do not be afraid to let yourself linger over things if you need to, or be momentarily distracted by them. So long as you always continue in the end, anything is permitted."

"Sounds good to me," Zack said, nodding. "C'mon, they're just about done docking. Let's get you back on solid ground."

"Is there any solid ground in Kilika?" Cloud asked wryly. What he remembered of the town from his brief stopover on the way to Besaid seemed to indicate otherwise. From the deck of the ship all he could see was an endless series of docks and huts built right over the water. There were nearly as many people swimming from one place to another as there were walking over the docks.

"Well, relatively solid," Zack acknowledged with a grin.

"There is land beyond the village," Sephiroth said as they headed down the gangway. "The mountain itself is surrounded by lush forest and the temple is built into the side of the volcano."

"Why build over the water, then?" Cloud wanted to know. The idea of spending more time than he absolutely had to anywhere near the water, let alone over it, was horrifying to him. The docks were easier to handle than the ship's deck, but Cloud was fairly certain he could still feel them swaying slightly beneath his feet.

"Mostly because in order to build on land we'd have had to cut half the forest down," Zack told him, leading the way further into the town. "Plus this way it's easier to keep the fiends out. It makes us a little more vulnerable to Sin, but..." He shrugged. "As we saw in Besaid, being on the island proper wouldn't save us, either."

People were starting to pay more attention to them as they moved away from the area frequented by tourists and summoners. Cloud automatically ducked his head to hide his eyes, trying not to draw anyone's notice, but then he realized he wasn't the one people were staring at. It was Zack they were pointing to and whispering about.

"Do they recognize you?" Cloud asked, puzzled. Zack's sleeveless shirt showed off the shoulder and upper arm tattoos that clearly marked him as an islander, though his clothes were Lucan in style. Surely that wasn't enough of a contrast to make people stare? Not with an Al Bhed dressed like a Calm Lander walking right next to him.

"Oh, probably." Zack shrugged. For some reason that made Sephiroth sigh and roll his eyes, and Zack grinned at him. "What?"

"I'm simply marvelling at the notion of you displaying modesty," Sephiroth said dryly. "An occasion to mark on the calendar, certainly."

"Hey, there's a difference between bragging to show off, and basking in well-deserved attention," Zack protested with a laugh.

Cloud felt like he was missing an important part of the conversation. He opened his mouth to ask, but before he could get the words out Zack lit up and pointed in excitement. "Hey, there it is!"

The hut he pointed to looked much like all the others around it, made of wood and decorated with bright woven banners. A woman was tending to the flowers that grew in boxes in front of the windows. She looked up, her attention drawn by Zack's shout, and did a double-take. "Zack? Is that you?" she gasped.

Zack rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a sheepish smile, coming to a stop. "Hey, mom."

"Zack!" she cried, and threw herself at him. He caught her in a hug and spun her around. She was laughing and crying at the same time.

Cloud was a little envious. His mother had never hugged him like that. Somehow he rather doubted his own homecoming would make his mother any more likely to be affectionate. He glanced at Sephiroth, and was surprised to see a wistful expression on the summoner's face as well. He tried to remember if he'd ever heard anything about Sephiroth's family, and couldn't. All he knew was that the man had been from Bevelle, though from the sounds of it he was living in Luca, now. Cloud didn't even know if his guardians were still alive.

"Where's dad?" Zack asked when his mother had finally calmed down.

"He's up working at the docks," Zack's mother replied. "With the summoners coming through again, the town elders wanted to make sure everything was in good repair." She looked troubled. "I don't think he's forgiven you just yet, honey. When we heard you'd left the Crusaders... he didn't take it well. As long as you were training to fight Sin I suppose he could console himself by telling people you'd left for good reasons, but..."

"Well, if that's all it takes, it's no problem," Zack said, laughing. "I may not be the next commander of the Crusaders, but I think being a guardian to the next High Summoner ought to rank right up there."

"Guardian?" Zack's mother looked shocked and delighted. "Sweetheart, that's wonderful! I'm so proud of you!" Predictably she turned and bowed to Sephiroth. Cloud decided there was no point in feeling hurt about it. Sephiroth just had the air of a summoner about him. Maybe in time Cloud would have it too, but he suspected people would always look to Sephiroth first.

"Uh, wrong summoner, ma." Zack sounded amused, but he was obviously trying hard to keep a straight face. "Seph's just along for the ride, to help us out. Cloud, stop trying to hide behind him and come say hi to my mom." When Cloud reluctantly stepped forward and mumbled a greeting, Zack slung an arm around his shoulder and ruffled his hair. "Mom, meet Lord Cloud, next High Summoner."

"Zack, that's not funny," she said, frowning. "It's not funny at all."

Startled by the unexpected change in her attitude, Cloud made the mistake of looking right at her. Her lips tightened into a white line when she got a good look at his eyes. His stomach sank, and he fought down a groan. Zack was so incredibly open-minded that he'd been expecting the man's parents to be the same way, but it seemed it was a trait Zack had picked up elsewhere.

"Huh?" Zack sounded bewildered. "Of course it's not funny, it's the truth."

"Zack..." Cloud bit his lip on his next words. He wanted to beg his guardian to leave well enough alone and just get the hell out of there before they caused a scene, but this was Zack's family. Cloud had no right to ask the man to just walk away from them.

"To think that my own son would pull such a prank," Zack's mother said, shaking her head and planting her hands on her hips. "It's disgraceful. Bad enough that you're consorting with an Al Bhed at all, but to try to pass him off as a summoner! What would your father say?"

Cloud ducked his head, though the damage was already done. He tried to back away, to leave Zack to argue with his mother in relative privacy, but Zack's hand tightened on his shoulder and held him in place. When Cloud glanced at him, he saw Zack's jaw was set in a determined expression that Cloud was rapidly becoming familiar with.

"It's not a prank, and it's certainly not disgraceful," Zack said. His voice was very tight and controlled. "He's a summoner. End of story. The fayth accepted him, and that's all that matters."

"Lies!" she gasped. "Al Bhed are not permitted to even set foot in the temples, everyone knows that. They're heretics, damning us all to an endless life of Sin because of their forbidden machina."

Cloud scrunched himself down a little more with every word, trying to get out of sight despite Zack's hand holding him in place. She was actually shaking with outrage now, pointing at him as her voice rose, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. Fervently he wished that becoming invisible was one of the powers granted to a summoner.

Another hand steadied his other shoulder, bracing him. "Perhaps we should leave you to discuss this with your mother alone, Zack," Sephiroth said. His voice was so low it practically rumbled. "Family matters are best dealt with in private."

Cloud shot the man a grateful look. He wasn't sure if Sephiroth had read his desire to sink into the ground, or if the former summoner found the confrontation distasteful for personal reasons. At this point Cloud was just about willing to kiss anyone who would get him out of this mess.

Zack snorted. "Is that supposed to be some kind of test? I did learn my lesson in Besaid, thank you. You're not his guardian, I am. Cloud doesn't go anywhere without me."

Sephiroth gave him a little approving smile, but Cloud wished Zack would let it go just this once. He would rather be just about anywhere but in the middle of this.

"We raised you to be a good, Yevon-fearing boy," Zack's mother proclaimed. "You were always too strong-willed for your own good, but no son of mine will ever participate in such heresy!"

Zack smiled grimly at her. "Then I guess I'm no son of yours, am I? C'mon, Cloud, Seph. Let's go. We've still got a temple to take by storm."

With that Zack turned and marched away, leaving his mother sputtering in shocked disbelief behind him. Cloud hesitated, trying to find some way to make it better, but there was nothing he could do.

"Come," Sephiroth repeated Zack's command, and pushed at Cloud's shoulder. Cloud stumbled for the first few steps, then got his feet under him and hurried to catch up with Zack. Behind them he could already hear the neighbours closing in, surrounding Zack's mother and demanding to know what was going on.

"Zack..." Cloud trailed off, not knowing what to say. How did you apologize for being the cause of someone getting disowned?

"Don't." Zack smiled at Cloud over his shoulder. His voice was firm but his smile wasn't, wobbling just slightly at the edges. It was obvious that he was trying to hide how much he was hurt, and that just made Cloud feel even worse. "This isn't your fault. I'd forgotten how devout my parents are. Though I don't remember them being this intolerant. I ran away from home because they wanted me to be a priest, did I tell you that? I suppose that should have warned me."

"But if you weren't..." Cloud started, still trying to make amends.

Zack stopped and turned, putting his hand over Cloud's mouth. "Don't even think about suggesting I find someone else to guard. I told you: stupidly prejudiced Spirans are not going to drive me off. Not even if they're my own family." He looked at Sephiroth. "Little help here, Seph? He's in awe of you. Maybe you can get it through his head."

Cloud blushed, and Sephiroth chuckled. "Zack is correct. If you do not wish to have him as your guardian any longer, that is one thing. But in all the time I have known Zack, I have never yet seen him give up on something he was determined to do. No matter the obstacles."

"Geez, Seph. You're gonna embarrass me, here." Zack's cheeks were lightly flushed under his tan, and he scratched his head. "Aren't you the one who's always insisting I don't need anyone else swelling my ego?" He turned to Cloud, one eyebrow lifted. "You do still want me as a guardian, right? This isn't some subtle way of telling me you don't want me anymore?"

"No! Of course I still want you," Cloud exclaimed. It had never even occurred to him that Zack would think he was attempting to get rid of him.

"Then quit trying to convince me to leave," Zack said with a touch of amused exasperation. "Now c'mon, we're wasting daylight and there're a lot of fiends between here and the temple."

Zack hadn't been kidding about the fiends. Cloud was out of breath and shaking with weariness by the time they reached the base of the stairs leading to the temple. If not for Sephiroth's white magic he'd never have made it that far.

"How do the villagers get back and forth?" he demanded, collapsing down to sit on a stone bench obviously placed there for that purpose.

"Generally they go in large groups, escorted by a squad of Crusaders," Sephiroth said. He went up the first set of steps in order to touch the blue sphere there to restore his magic, then returned to join them at the bottom.

Zack, the bastard, didn't even look winded. "This isn't so bad," he insisted. "How did you make it all the way from the Calm Lands?" He seemed to have mostly recovered from the argument with his mother, though there was regret and hurt lingering in the back of his eyes.

"Luck," Cloud replied, finally catching his breath. "And it wasn't so bloody hot out until I got as far as Luca. How can you live like this?" His clothes were soaked through with sweat, and he was willing to bet his face was the colour of a ripe tomato.

"Hot?" Zack looked astonished. "Are you kidding me? We're barely into spring! Half the islanders are still wearing winter clothes."

"Winter clothes?" Cloud repeated, staring right back at him. Zack was in a sleeveless shirt and pants, but almost everyone else Cloud had seen in Kilika and Besaid had been half dressed at best. "Zack, if they were wearing any less, most of them would be naked!"

"If a guy is wearing a shirt, that's winter clothing," Zack told him, laughing. "If anyone is wearing sleeves, it's gotta be freezing out."

"There is often snow on the ground all year round in the mountains around Gagazet, Zack," Sephiroth said. "To someone from that region your 'winters' are warmer than their summers. It took me years to become accustomed to Luca's heat, and Bevelle is far more temperate than the upper reaches of the Calm Lands."

"All year round?" Zack's eyes went impossibly wide. He looked at Cloud, disbelief written large on his face. "He's pulling my leg, isn't he?"

Cloud shrugged. "Nibelheim is below the snow line for at least a couple of months every year, but you don't have to go very far to find it again."

"Ugh." Zack shuddered. "Okay, now I'm reconsidering this guardian thing. I'm curious to see snow, but I don't want to have to deal with that much of it!"

"The pass over Gagazet is always covered in snow," Cloud informed him, daring to tease back. At least, he hoped Zack was only teasing. "And Lake Macalania is frozen solid year round, despite being in the lowlands."

"The fayth in Macalania is rather fond of ice," Sephiroth said, looking amused and almost fond. "I must say it was my favourite temple, despite the cold. It and its fayth are arguably the most beautiful."

"Great, I'm looking forward to it." Zack's tone said exactly the opposite of his words, and Cloud chuckled.

"Well, we won't get there any faster by sitting around here," Cloud said. He hauled himself to his feet with a groan, eyeing the seemingly endless stairs. "Let's go."

By the second landing he was out of breath. By the fourth he was sweating hard again, and wishing he was dressed like Zack even if it would make him feel naked. By the fifth he was more than ready to sit down again, and there was still no end in sight.

"Is this supposed to be some kind of punishment?" Cloud gasped, pausing briefly to pant for air. "Or is this just a practical joke you play on the summoners, and the real entrance is somewhere else?"

"Wimp," Zack teased him. "High Summoner Ohalland used to run up and down these stairs every day when he was training for blitzball. It's still one of the traditional drills the Beasts use."

"Fine. You run," Cloud said, bracing his hands against his knees and trying to get his wind back. "Eventually we'll catch up to wherever you've collapsed, and I'm sure Lord Sephiroth will be kind enough to heal you."

"You think I haven't done it before?" Zack asked him, grinning. "Running the stairs, I mean, not passing out from it."

"You know, if I weren't so grateful for you, I might hate you," Cloud said, sighing. "You're too perfect. And smug about it."

"Wait until we get to Luca," Sephiroth said as Zack laughed. "He's actually been quite pleasant to deal with on this trip."

By the time they neared the top Cloud was seriously starting to wonder if the whole thing was worth it. Between the climb and the steadily rising heat he was about ready to just keel over.

"Almost there," Zack coaxed him from the top. "Just one more flight, you can do it."

"At least I only have to go down the stairs when I'm exhausted from dealing with the fayth," Cloud muttered, forcing himself to take just a few more steps. Beside him Sephiroth chuckled.

They finally reached the top, and Cloud was able to look down at the temple itself. It lay at the far end of a natural depression, surrounded by columns topped by burning flames somehow trapped in crystals.

Cloud stared at the centre of the depression in disbelief. Almost the entire area was covered in more of the clear crystal, and it did nothing to obscure the massive fire burning just beneath the surface. The tongues of flame licked greedily at the crystal, as if they were searching for a weakness, hungry for the people strolling casually back and forth above.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Zack said, standing with his hands on his hips, surveying the area. "The flames appeared when Lord Ohalland brought the calm, and they've been burning ever since. Man, I've missed this place. Feels like coming home." He threw out his arms like he was trying to embrace the whole mountain, head tilted back to bask in the light and heat from the flames.

"Much as I would like to allow you to enjoy your homecoming, it would probably be best to move quickly," Sephiroth murmured regretfully. "The faster we proceed, the less likely we are to run into a confrontation. There are a great many people here."

"Yeah." Zack sighed and dropped his hands. "That is, assuming the priests don't decide to make a scene anyway. I'd like to think the Kilika Temple is more reasonable, but then I didn't expect my own mother to turn against me, either."

They moved forward, debating methods of convincing the priests to cooperate, should they prove reluctant. Cloud remained where he was, rooted to the stone, staring at the giant fire beneath the ground with a rising sense of panic and horror. They wanted him to walk over that? What if the fire found a way through to devour him? What if the crystal broke, and dropped him right into the heart of the flames?

He wasn't sure how long it took the others to notice that he hadn't followed them, because his sense of time was distorted by his strangling fear and it was hard to look at anything but the fire. One moment they weren't with him, and then suddenly they were, concerned voices and supporting hands only vaguely registering through his all-consuming horror.

Finally Sephiroth moved to stand between Cloud and the fire, breaking his line of sight. Cloud gasped and nearly collapsed, his shaking legs giving out on him. Only a quick grab by Zack kept him on his feet, and even then his guardian was the one supporting his weight.

"I can't," Cloud said, his throat so dry his voice emerged as a squeak. He tried to swallow, but there was no moisture in his mouth, either. The flames had sucked it away, eaten it up like they wanted to eat him up. "I can't, the... the f-f... I just can't."

"You're afraid of the fire." Sephiroth's deep voice was soft, and he made it a statement rather than a question. Cloud nodded anyway, burning with shame and embarrassment. He felt like a craven coward, like the useless trash the Spirans had always called him.

"Oh, boy. This could be an interesting Trial," he heard Zack say from behind him. "Look, Cloud, we don't have to walk over the flame to get in. We can just go around the edge, see? No problem."

Warily Cloud turned his head enough to see where Zack was pointing. Sure enough there was a stone ring around the crystal, wide enough for two to walk abreast. It passed under some of the smaller flame crystals, but compared to the main fire they were hardly even worth noticing. Cloud was fairly certain he could handle them.

Even so he fixed his eyes firmly on the back of Zack's belt as his guardian led the way. The brown leather was safe, even comforting. As long as he was watching it, he didn't have to see the hungry fires all around him.

"Steady," Sephiroth murmured. "There are more fires inside, but none of them will harm you. My word on it. This is the home of the aeon of fire, and the fayth likes to surround himself with them, that is all."

"I'm g-glad this wasn't the first temple," Cloud managed to say, trembling. "I might have changed my m-mind."

They made it into the cool, dim interior of the temple without any further problems, which Cloud counted as a success. The inside was indeed lit by more of the crystal fires, but they were scattered widely enough that Cloud could pass through them without feeling like one was surely about to drop on his head. There were people here and there, civilians as well as priests. Some were praying, but most were hard at work on the stone walls and floors, repairing and restoring them.

"Up there, same as Besaid," Zack said, pointing at the stairway to the Trial. Oddly, there was no priest waiting at the top to greet summoners and turn away the curious.

Taking a deep breath, Cloud nodded and began to climb. His legs protested being asked to go up yet more stairs, but he ignored them, focused on the ordeal to come. Another Trial, another fayth, another aeon; one step closer to Zanarkand.

A flustered-looking priest emerged from behind the door just as Cloud reached the top. The priest paused at the sight of him, seemed ready to say something unpleasant, and then appeared to change his mind. He bowed, his movements stiff. "Lord Cloud," he said, sounding like he had to force the words out. "Kilika Temple is honoured to receive a summoner, as always. The fayth is beyond. Yevon be with you."

Cloud eyed him nervously, waiting for the catch. The man said nothing further, still bowing to him, and finally Cloud returned the gesture.

He entered the antechamber of the Trial, feeling a little more optimistic. "Well, they let me in without a fight this time," he said as the door closed behind Zack and Sephiroth. Maybe now that he actually was a summoner, they wouldn't be as reluctant to allow him inside the temples.

"I don't like it," Zack said slowly, surprising Cloud. His brow was knitted, and he was frowning. "How did he know your name?"

Cloud blinked, startled. That hadn't even occurred to him.

"News of this nature travels quickly," Sephiroth pointed out, but he looked troubled as well.

"Going to my family first was a mistake." Zack shook his head. "We should have come straight here. Someone from the ship got here before we did, and warned them. Something smells as rotten as an ochu." He looked grimly at Sephiroth. "Is it possible they could have done something to sabotage the Trial?"

Cloud's eyes went wide, and Sephiroth's frown deepened. "If you're asking is it physically possible, the answer is yes," the tall summoner said. "If you're asking my opinion of whether they would stoop to such a level... well, my belief in the moral integrity of Yevon's faithful dropped sharply ten years ago, and has fallen even further in the last few days."

Cloud was floored. He wouldn't have been surprised if the priests had denied him entrance or even physically thrown him out again. But to let him in with a false smile on their faces, while having pulled something so underhanded, was beyond him. "How could they sabotage their own Trial? Doesn't that go against their precious teachings as well?"

"It never fails to amaze me what depths people will sink to when they believe they are the righteous ones," Sephiroth said.

"Great." Zack raked a hand through his hair, eyeing the entrance to the Trial warily. "If they'd stoop to messing with the Trial, I don't trust them not to have made it potentially fatal as well. It's supposed to be difficult. How are we going to know what belongs, and what's a trap?" He blinked, and looked at Sephiroth. "You've been through here before, right? Would you remember it well enough to be able to spot something out of place?"

"Only summoners and their guardians are permitted beyond this point, Zack," Sephiroth reminded him sternly.

Zack's jaw was set, and the look in his eyes was defiant. "Yeah, so? They cheated first. The game is rigged and the refs have all been bought, and I'm calling them on it. Besides, you are a summoner."

"I have no intention of addressing the fayth, so it would still be cheating," Seph said, but he looked like he was contemplating the idea.

"No." Cloud made his voice as firm as he could, considering it wanted to tremble with fury at what the priests had pulled. They both looked at him in surprise. "We'll do it the right way, or not at all," Cloud insisted. "We already have enough problems with people claiming that I'm cheating or forcing the fayth somehow. We'll manage."

Zack clapped him on the shoulder, and grinned. "That's the spirit. You're right; we shouldn't sink to their level."

Sephiroth was giving him the oddest look. If Cloud hadn't known better, he'd have thought it was pride and satisfaction. "There is one way I could accompany you without breaking any rules," Sephiroth said. "As your guardian. That is, if you would have me?" He raised an eyebrow at Cloud.

Zack's jaw dropped, and he stared at Sephiroth. Cloud would have done the same, except he was literally frozen in shock. Him? Lord General Sephiroth wanted to be his guardian?

"You... but... you're a summoner," Cloud sputtered, struggling to gather his scattered thoughts. "You should have a guardian, not be one!"

"You refuse, then?" Sephiroth said it as if it didn't matter one way or another to him, but there was an amused glint in his eyes as he watched Cloud.

"Wha... no, no! Of course I would have you," Cloud rushed to say. "But I don't... you shouldn't... Zack?" He looked pleadingly at his guardian.

"He's got a point, Seph," Zack said, sounding a little stunned. "Can you be both a summoner and a guardian?"

"There is nothing in the teachings of Yevon against it," Sephiroth said. He shrugged. "Truly, who better? This is not my pilgrimage, so the fact that I am a summoner is simply an indication of my power, not my purpose."

"Then yes," Cloud said, still not quite certain that this was actually happening. Had he passed out from the heat and exertion somewhere along the way, and this was all just a dream? "If you're sure. I would be honoured."

Zack pumped his fist in the blitzball sign of victory. "Yes! Not quite what I'd planned when I dragged you out of Luca, but I think this may be even better." This time Sephiroth's raised eyebrow was directed at Zack, who grinned in response, unrepentant.

"Then, let us proceed," Sephiroth said, gesturing at the entrance to the Trial. "Don't expect any hints, however."

"I wouldn't want them," Cloud said firmly. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, more determined than ever to live up to the honour Sephiroth was showing him.

The first puzzle seemed simple enough; there was a door with an empty sphere recess, and a glowing sphere in another recess in the wall. Confidently Cloud grabbed the Kilika sphere from the wall and inserted it into the door.

The solid door vanished, replaced by a net of fire. Cloud froze as the heat and light washed over him, the crackling echoing in his ears. He could smell the smoke and the fire itself, feel it biting into his flesh like a starving Nibelwolf. Above him he could hear his mother shrieking in agony, her voice nearly swallowed by the roar of the firestorm, his own screams of terror and pain blending with hers in terrible harmony. He couldn't breathe, the heat smothering and the smoke choking him, the fire consuming all the air. He welcomed the darkness that rose to consume him, preferring it to the hunger of the flames.

[Fic] A Long Road To Destiny - FFVII/FFX - Zack, Cloud & Sephiroth - 3/25?

2009-06-20T05:19:05Z

As usual, the number of chapters is constantly shifting and changing on me. Writing with a rough outline is definitely easier than writing entirely by the seat of my pants, but I still end up with a lot of changes.

I still hate writing by hand. ;p

Does anyone know any good comms to post this to? It doesn't seem appropriate to put it up on ffvii_yaoi, my usual comm, since there's no yaoi in it.

Title: A Long Road to Destiny
Series: FFVII/FFX fusion
Pairing: Cloud, Zack & Sephiroth
Rating: R
Warnings: violence, angst, swearing, the usual
Chapter length: 5821
Total length: 16,813

The summoner's journey is a long, hard path to walk. Having guardians you trust makes all the difference in the world.

Cloud scrambled to his feet, desperate to do anything he could to protect Zack. Maybe if he could just focus the Sin scale's attention on him, he could run and draw it away from his vulnerable guardian.

"Hey!" he shouted, waving his arms to attract its attention. "Ujan rana, ikmo!"

It took a step towards him and lowered its head, canting its wings forward. Cloud paled. A dozen lethal looking spines quivered between its feathers, ready to launch. He doubted he would fare any better against them than Zack had.

Light flashed off a thin arc of metal as it slashed through the air. It cut the scale in two so cleanly that it took the fiend a moment to realize it was dead. Under less dire circumstances Cloud might have laughed at the shocked expression it wore as pyreflies drifted up from its disintegrating body.

Seph swept his blade sharply through the air to shake the ichor off it, and tossed a bit of fluff at Zack. The unconscious man stirred, groaning, and Cloud recognized the item as a phoenix down. He'd heard of them, but he'd never seen one before.

"Saving his life at the cost of your own is the correct sentiment for a guardian, but try to save it for truly dire circumstances," Seph advised Zack dryly. "Sacrificing yourself at the start of the journey won't do much to help him make it as far as Zanarkand."

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks," Zack rasped, equally dry. He pushed himself into a sitting position and winced, testing each limb gingerly. He was still obviously injured, and still wavering on the verge of collapse. Cloud wished there was something he could do.

As if reading his mind, Seph turned to him next. "Since you didn't heal yourself earlier, I assume you are either too drained or don't know any spells advanced enough?" Seph asked Cloud. He gestured and murmured a spell, and Zack's injuries vanished.

Cloud ducked his head and mumbled an affirmative. The truth was that he didn't know any spells, not even the most basic cure. He knew summoners were traditionally white mages as well, but surely there were exceptions? Or perhaps this was just another way in which he failed as a summoner. The hollow ache in his chest was accusation enough that he didn't have what it took.

Seph simply nodded, accepting his reply at face value. He held out a satchel full of small bottles. "Take these around to the injured, then. Zack, do you have yours?"

"Yeah. You gonna go help the civilians?" Zack asked, subdued.

"Yes. Join me there when you've dealt with the combatants." Seph turned and headed for the front of the temple.

Cloud surveyed the battlefield, for the first time able to really pay attention to what was going on around him. The dead and dying lay scattered over the beach, with the living wandering among them like lost souls. Cloud saw one man whose arm had been ripped off bleeding out on the sand, while another who had lost an eye was trying helplessly to staunch the wound. The smell of blood was so thick in the air Cloud could taste it, a rank copper tang in his nose and throat, mixed with the scents of vomit, excrement, and an indefinable stench that Cloud could only label as 'Sin'.

Cloud swallowed hard, wanting to vomit himself. There was a part of him that had always pictured battle as being exciting, even glorious. He'd imagined himself triumphing over Sin and all the fiends, a mighty warrior and summoner. He'd never imagined anything but the fiends dying, however, or the sound of people moaning in agony or coughing out their last breaths. He'd certainly never pictured himself as a helpless bystander who could do almost nothing to help those suffering. Suddenly battling Sin didn't seem so glorious after all.

"Give the potions to people who need them to survive," Zack told him. "Don't waste them on people who will survive until morning without, or who are so badly hurt they'd need more than one to survive at all. Understand?" He gave Cloud a grim look. "I know it's hard when people are hurting, but it's the only way to save as many people as we can. You have to be ruthless. Can I trust you?"

Feeling numb, Cloud nodded. Zack patted him on the back and moved out among the injured, pulling out his own bag of potions.

Cloud turned and walked the other way down the beach. At first people ignored him, absorbed in their own pain. He struggled to look at them objectively, trying to decide who to give the healing potions to. Would that person die without it? Would this one die even with it? It was such a hard line to walk, when all he could see was blood, and all he could hear was the cries of the dying.

He stopped next to a man whose leg had been savaged. It was one of the civilians, with no armour to protect him from the damage the scales could inflict. Someone had tied a rough tourniquet above the wound, keeping the man from bleeding to death, but Cloud could see it wouldn't work for long. On the other hand, it was the only major wound visible, so if it was healed enough to stop bleeding the man would probably survive.

Good enough. Cloud knelt next to the man, and fumbled a potion out of the bag. The injured man was only barely conscious, and Cloud had to coax him to swallow the potion. Once he had it down, though, the magic-laced liquid swiftly went to work. Cloud could see the flesh repairing itself, right before his eyes.

"Wha..." The man roused a bit, and stared at his leg in shock. "How... oh! Thank..." he glanced at Cloud, stared right into his eyes, and gulped. Cloud bit his lip to keep from scowling, knowing the stranger was hesitating to give thanks because he was Al Bhed.

"Don't mention it," Cloud said gruffly, standing and turning away to look for the next person he could help. The Spirans might not be as grateful to be rescued by an Al Bhed as they would be to be saved by one of their own, but at least he could feel like he was making an important difference.

Others had noticed that the man he'd helped had gotten up. "Please, it hurts," one of the Aurochs whimpered, reaching out towards him. "Help me, please."

"My hand, I'll lose my hand, give me those!" demanded one of the Crusaders, less politely.

"I don't have enough for everyone," Cloud said, backing up nervously and clutching the satchel to his chest. Hands grabbed at him as people tried to snatch the bag away, and he yanked it up out of their reach. More people were looking his way, drawn by the clamour rising around him. Those who were mobile were converging on him, and Cloud didn't like the look in their eyes. Desperation and anger were never a good combination, especially when they were aimed at an Al Bhed by a Spiran.

"Zack," he called, trying to turn so that nobody was coming at him from behind. That just gave them the idea to start circling. He groped for his sword and swore under his breath when he remembered it was still lying on the ground where Zack had knocked him over. Realizing he was unarmed, the men closing in on him looked eager.

"Zack!" Cloud tried hard not to panic. He reached inside himself in what was already becoming a reflex, but there was still only the hollow ache where Jymavun's power should have been.

"Hey!"

Zack was suddenly beside him, and the approaching men looked much less certain of their victory. "Enough of that," Zack scolded them. "Crusaders, you should be ashamed of yourselves. You know how triage works. Now get out there and help the civilians."

Several of the men, the ones whose armour marked them as Crusaders, looked sheepish or apologetic. A few even murmured 'Yes, sir' or saluted Zack briefly. Cloud breathed a sigh of relief as they backed off, and drew the civilians with them.

"Maybe you'd better stick with me," Zack said. He ran a hand through his spiky hair, apparently oblivious to the ichor, blood and grime on his glove. He looked tired and pained, and Cloud wondered if Seph's spell had really healed him completely.

Cloud nodded glumly, embarrassed all over again that he couldn't even be trusted to handle a simple task like handing out potions to the injured. Was he going to need Zack to babysit him for every little step through his whole journey? They'd kill each other before they ever got near Zanarkand. He had to learn to stand on his own.

For now, though, Zack was right that he was better off staying with his guardian, and not just for his own benefit. As they moved together among the wounded, Cloud tried to make sure he was the one doing all the heavy lifting and other physical tasks. Zack gave him a wry smile that said he'd noticed, but didn't object.

Cloud was grateful that his guardian let him get away with it. For one thing, concentrating on taking care of the older man meant he wasn't poking at the hollow place inside him, or paying too much attention to the horrible injuries they were tending to. By the time they reached the end of the beach Cloud knew that battle was anything but glorious. He saw more blood in that hour than he'd ever seen before in all his life combined, and he never, ever wanted to see the inside of anyone's body again.

When the last of the potions had been drunk and the last bandage administered, Zack stretched until his back cracked, groaning. "All right, that's as much as we can do for this lot. Let's go see if we can help Seph with the civilians."

Cloud nodded, though he was a little reluctant to face even more wounded people. At least here on the beach there were no dying children.

They helped a pair of Crusaders limp around the temple, back to the common area. Cloud flinched and bit back a cry when he saw what was left of the village. To say it was utter chaos was understating the matter. Most of the homes and shops had been destroyed, with only rubble and debris left to mark what had been someone's entire life. Trees had been torn up by the roots, huge boulders wrenched out of the ground. Even the temple had taken damage, the graceful arches of the roof broken and scarred. The scent of sap from the smashed trees mingled with the stench of blood and burning things. Fires raged everywhere, no doubt started when the bonfire had been scattered in every direction by Sin's gravitational pull.

Cloud flinched away from the heat and crackle of the fires. He thought he could hear screaming from within them, but he was fairly certain it was only a memory. These fires were starting to burn out now, finding little to sustain them once the seasoned wood of the huts was gone. Anyone caught in them would have died while he was still on the beach.

Crews were working to dig survivors out of the rubble. Everyone wore a shocked, numb expression, as if they simply couldn't process this much horror and so their brains had shut down to protect them. Cloud imagined a similar expression was probably on his own face. It certainly matched how he was feeling.

He moved to help one of the rescue crews, grabbing a broken timbre and helping another man haul it away, heedless of the splinters it drove into his skin. Vaguely he was aware that Zack had gone to join a bucket brigade working to put out the last of the fires.

Cloud wasn't certain how long they worked. The first few people he helped to rescue were alive, though one of them died in the arms of the man who pulled her out of the ruin. After that, they were simply uncovering more bodies to be placed at the end of a silent row outside the temple. Cloud didn't even try to keep count. He didn't really want to know.

Someone passed around a bucket of fresh water and a ladle. Cloud drank, trying not to be too greedy. When he handed the bucket off to the man he'd been helping to carry things, however, their eyes met briefly for the first time.

The man, one of the priests judging by his clothing, blinked twice at him and then seemed to realize who he was looking at. "You!" He dropped the bucket and stepped back, one hand lifted to point accusingly at Cloud. "This is your fault. Sin came because you profaned the temple!"

"What?" Stunned by the completely unexpected accusation and already exhausted beyond tolerance by the events of the day, Cloud couldn't find the wits to do more than gape at the man.

"But Sin always targets the temples," someone protested hesitantly.

"What drew it here, tonight?" another woman argued. "There haven't been sightings anywhere near here!"

"It was the heresy of a non-believer coercing the fayth into granting him an aeon that drew Sin to us," the priest insisted, the light of fanaticism burning in his eyes. Others murmured agreement, a rising swell of angry mutters and shouts.

For the third time that day Cloud found himself facing the beginnings of a mob, gathering around him. He cast a frantic look around, searching for Zack, but there was no sign of his guardian this time.

"The priests are right," a man cried. "You're a heretic. How can you bring anything but evil to Yevon's faithful?"

The first stone caught Cloud from behind, smashing into his shoulder hard enough to leave a bone bruise. He staggered, biting his lip to keep from crying out. That would only egg them on, as he knew far too well.

"Enough!" Seph's voice was deep enough to rumble like thunder, an ominous warning of the storm to come. Anger flashed in his eyes like the lightning to accompany the thunder. He stepped into the centre of the crowd, one hand on his hilt in a clear threat, and stood near Cloud in a way that made it plain he was supporting the Al Bhed.

"Is this the kindness that Yevon teaches?" he demanded. "Is this the goodwill and tolerance that will win Spira free from Sin for all time? If you wonder at the cause of Sin's appearance here tonight, look first to your own actions. Your bigotry and prejudice are more likely to be at fault than any summoner, no matter their race."

A few people had the grace to look shamed. Unfortunately it was obvious that most of the crowd was simply looking for an easy target to blame. "Yevon's teachings hardly apply to one who blasphemes the very fayth itself," the priest shouted.

Seph's scowl deepened. "I suggest you reconsider your words, sir, and quickly. Or perhaps you have no wish to have the sending performed for your loved ones?"

More people backed away from the priest, looking alarmed. Cloud felt the blood drain from his face, and he fought off panic. "Seph," he whispered urgently, trying to get the man's attention without drawing the focus of the crowd back to him. Defusing the mob by reminding them that only a summoner could perform the sending was all well and good... as long as the summoner could actually perform the sending.

The priest appeared to be thinking along the same lines, or perhaps he simply saw the look on Cloud's face. "Can he even perform it?" he scoffed, gesturing rudely at Cloud. "No temple would train one such as he. Even if he does know the ritual, a sending performed by a heathen would be worse than useless!"

People were muttering again, now afraid that their loved ones would all end up as fiends for lack of a proper sending. Cloud saw Zack shoving his way through the tightly packed crowd, but he didn't think this was a problem his guardian could protect him from.

"Seph," he whispered again, tugging at the man's sleeve to get his attention. Seph's eyes flicked briefly to him, acknowledging him, before returning to stare down the crowd. "Seph, I have no idea how to perform a sending," Cloud all but squeaked. "I'm as likely to turn them into fiends as send them to the Farplane." And doing that would surely turn the islanders against him once and for all.

Seph closed his eyes briefly, and looked resigned. When he opened them again, he focused his gaze on the priest once more. "Lord Cloud is not the only summoner on the island," he said, his voice soft but no less menacing for the lack of volume. "I am perfectly capable of performing the sending, and if you doubt my ability, I suggest you contact your superiors in Bevelle and ask them for my references. However I find your attitudes and continuing hostility towards a summoner to be offensive and highly distasteful. Frankly I'm not certain the people of Besaid deserve the protection or guidance of any summoner, if this is how you treat one."

Now the voices in the crowd were alarmed, crying out for forgiveness and begging him to reconsider. Seph stood there like a regal statue, apparently unmoved by their pleas, still watching the priest.

The man looked first at Seph, then at Cloud, then back to Seph. He swallowed visibly, and made the obeisance to them both. "Forgive me," he said, his voice trembling with the effort it took him to speak politely. "I am overwrought. Perhaps I have even been affected by Sin's toxins. I spoke without thinking."

"Convenient," Zack muttered as he finally reached Cloud. He spoke loud enough for Seph and Cloud to hear him, but not for his voice to reach anyone else. "I hate how people use Sin's toxin as an excuse for bad behaviour. Sorry, Cloud, I didn't realize you'd gotten so far away from me."

Seph inclined his head slightly to acknowledge Zack, and finally nodded at the priest. "Very well. Place the dead near the docks. I will perform the sending over the water." Cries of relief and thanks came from the villagers. Seph ignored them all, turning to stalk away, gesturing at Zack and Cloud to follow him.

The moment they were out of sight of the crowd, he turned on Zack. "Fiends and Sin are not the only dangers to a summoner," he said, his voice rumbling dangerously again. "A guardian must never, ever leave his summoner unprotected, let alone allow the summoner out of his sight. I'm disappointed in you, Zack."

Zack blanched, then flushed and hung his head. "I know, you're right," he said, subdued. "I'm sorry. I was so focused on helping the villagers..."

"That's no excuse." Seph was as implacable with Zack as he had been with the priest. "A guardian's first duty is to his summoner, always. Especially considering these people had already demonstrated a willingness to harm your summoner."

"Don't be mad at him," Cloud protested. The last thing he wanted was to become a thorn in the friendship these two obviously shared. Zack would only come to resent him that much sooner. "Sin was gone, and the fiends were dead. Rescuing people and putting out the fires was more important..."

"No, he's right, Cloud," Zack said firmly, putting a hand on his shoulder and smiling apologetically. "I deserved that scolding. I won't forget again." He looked at Seph, his expression almost sad. "You're really going to do the sending?"

"Someone must." Seph shrugged and looked away, clearly uncomfortable with the subject.

"It was you who summoned the aeon out there," Cloud realized. "But... I don't understand. You said you weren't a summoner. That was Bevelle's aeon, wasn't it? You have them all already. Can't you just go straight to Zanarkand and stop Sin?"

"I am no longer willing to sacrifice myself for the good of the people of Spira," Seph said. "Frankly I don't believe they deserve it. Perhaps living with Sin's punishment for a time would teach them to value what they have more." He turned and walked away while Cloud was still trying to absorb that boggling statement.

Zack squeezed his shoulder, then released him. "C'mon. You'll want to see this. We'll have to get training for you somehow, I guess. People are going to want you to perform the sending."

Cloud followed him as they both trailed after Seph. "You knew he was a summoner," he said, still confused. "Why aren't you his guardian?"

"Well, I was sort of hoping to be," Zack admitted. "Like I told you earlier, I dragged him with me this far because I thought maybe being here would inspire him again, remind him of why he did it the first time."

"How can anyone stop being a summoner?" Cloud wanted to know.

Zack looked sombre. "Do you know what happens to a summoner who doesn't become High Summoner, when the calm comes?"

"I never really thought about it." Cloud frowned, turning it over in his mind. "I suppose people still need sendings performed and that sort of thing."

"They do, but they're not as worried about it when Sin's not around," Zack said. "Most of the dead can be trusted to make their own way to the Farplane without Sin to corrupt them. See, the thing is, people are stupid. You should know that better than anyone." He sighed. "Summoners who don't make it as far as Zanarkand are considered 'failed' summoners, by almost everyone from the lowest village idiot to the highest maester. People would much rather ridicule others for not achieving a goal they can't even aspire to, than honour someone for not quite making a sacrifice."

"Failed?" Cloud repeated, shocked. He stopped short on the path, staring at Zack in disbelief. "How can anyone think that? All summoners are willing to risk their lives to make the journey, to sacrifice themselves at the end to protect the rest of the world. Even if they never go further than Besaid, they're still heroes!"

Zack smiled at him. "I'm glad to hear you say that," he said. "Nice to know I'm not the only one who thinks so. Now maybe if we can just convince Seph that the whole world isn't ranged against him, he'll lose some of that bitterness he's always carrying around."

Seph was waiting for them at the foot of the docks. "Watch, and learn what you can," he commanded Cloud softly. "Someday you may need to do this yourself. It's not difficult, and you can't 'screw it up'. It is simply a matter of willing the souls to move on to the Farplane where they belong. Every summoner has a different ritual."

"I doubt anyone will ever want me to perform a sending, any more than the villagers here did," Cloud said. He touched his still aching chest, and looked down. "Besides, I'm... not sure I actually qualify as a summoner anymore. I lost the aeon. I think... Sin..." He choked on a sob, unable to make himself finish the words.

"What?" Zack looked shocked, then dismayed. "Oh, shit. I never even thought of that. Uh, maybe you can go back and talk to the fayth again?"

The thought of going back and trying to survive that agonizing ordeal again made Cloud blanch. Bad enough that he might well have to deal with similar treatment from the rest of the fayth. He really didn't want to have to repeat the experience more often than he absolutely had to.

"There's no need to go to such an extreme," Seph assured him, much to Cloud's relief. "Aeons do occasionally fall in battle, just as people do." He gestured at a glowing blue sphere just at the head of the pass to the village. "Do you know what these are?"

Cloud shook his head. "I saw them all over the place when I was travelling. I figured they were to mark the path, like a beacon or something."

"They serve that purpose as well, but their primary function is healing." Seph smiled slightly. "Just touching one will restore your health and energy. They are ancient machina, approved by Yevon for the use of travellers. Touch it."

"They heal you?" Cloud stared at it, feeling dismayed and foolish. How often had he staggered by one of these spheres, barely able to stay on his feet after an encounter with a fiend? "But I'm not injured now."

"You are not, but your aeon is," Seph told him. "These spheres are the only practical method to heal an aeon. It is rather difficult to pour a potion down their throat."

Zack clutched his chest and staggered dramatically. "Did you just make a joke? Look out, the world's gonna end."

Ignoring him, Cloud focused on the sphere, hardly daring to allow himself to hope. When he touched it he felt the tingling sweep of energy pass over him, just like having a cure spell cast on him. It sank into the hollow inside him.

Suddenly Jymavun was there again. Cloud actually gasped with relief as he felt the strong, steady pulse of her power. Before he realized what was happening tears welled up in his eyes, all the terror and pain and grief of the day catching up to him. He fought them down, not wanting to cry like a little baby in front of his guardian and the man who had given him back his hope - twice, now. It was almost enough to make him believe in Yevon's kind guidance.

"That's better. Now, watch what I do," Seph repeated. He patted Cloud gently on the shoulder as he walked back towards the dock, and Cloud saw a look of deep sympathy and understanding in his eyes. Presumably he, too, knew the pain of losing an aeon, even if he'd known from the start that they could be healed.

Cloud and Zack trailed after him, stopping a respectful distance from the end of the pier. In the dim glow of the setting moon Cloud could just make out the blur of dark shapes lurking beneath the water. At first he thought they were fiends, but after a moment he realized they were the bodies of the dead.

"Watch," Zack said quietly. As if he'd needed to tell Cloud to do so. Cloud could hardly tear his eyes away, and he felt breathless with anticipation.

Seph waited until all the villagers, priests and Crusaders had gathered around the end of the dock near the shore. Then, to Cloud's utter astonishment, Seph stepped off the dock and onto the water, as easily as if he was walking over solid ground. He stopped when he stood directly over the bodies, and paused for a moment with his eyes closed, his long sword held before him like an offering to Yevon.

Then he began to dance.

'Dance' was the only word Cloud could find to describe it, although the motions were clearly meant to be a pattern of strike, parry and block. Seph moved with the leaping grace and beauty of a dolphin, ghosting over the surface as fluidly as if he was made of water himself. Moonlight flashed off the long arc of his blade as it whistled through the air, almost too fast for the eye to follow. His silver hair swirled around him in counterpoint harmony to the motions of the sword, and the soft splash of his feet over the water kept time.

Cloud watched in awe as pyreflies began to rise from the bodies of the dead beneath the water. First one, then three, then a dozen; until a cloud of them floated so thick over the surface it was hard to see Seph.

Finally Seph executed one last spinning jump and thrust his blade straight into the air. The pyreflies seemed caught by the momentum of the gesture, swirling up and around him until they disappeared into the night sky, blending into the shining light of the stars.

A burning sensation in his chest confused Cloud for a moment, until he realized that he'd literally forgotten to breathe. He gasped for air, trying not to be too obvious about it, but Zack gave him an amused look. "He's something else, isn't he?" the guardian said.

"Can I be him when I grow up?" Cloud asked wistfully. He was - he hoped - not done growing just yet, but he knew he would never be able to pull off the aura of controlled power and lethal grace that Seph wore like a cloak. More importantly he didn't think he would ever have the confident poise and air of command that seemed inherent in Seph and made people want to follow him.

Zack laughed. "No, 'cause you're gonna be the High Summoner, remember?"

Cloud looked down, pressing one hand over the gentle pulse of Jymavun's power in his heart. "Maybe," he allowed, smiling slightly. "If he doesn't beat me to it once we convince him to believe in people again. He's got a head start, after all."

"Ha! That's the spirit." Zack slapped his back, and then turned to face Seph. The summoner had returned to the solid wood of the pier just a few feet away from them. There were tight lines around his eyes and mouth, and his steps seemed to drag just the tiniest bit. Zack lifted his hands and bowed in the traditional greeting from one of Yevon's faithful to a summoner. For once he didn't tease; there was nothing in his voice or expression but respect. "Lord Sephiroth."

"Sephiroth?" Cloud squeaked, staring. That was a name even he knew. Sephiroth had been the general of the Crusaders, the youngest ever to be granted that rank, before he'd left them to become a summoner himself. Everyone had expected Sephiroth to be the next High Summoner. Cloud had only been six when Sin had appeared the last time, but he remembered people speaking Sephiroth's name in excited whispers. Half of Nibelheim had travelled down the mountain to the Calm Lands to see him when he'd passed there.

Cloud had disobeyed his mother's order to stay at home, sneaking out to follow the other villagers down the mountain. His memories of that day were hazy, but he remembered being awed by the sheer presence of the summoner and his two powerful guardians.

And then Sephiroth had passed on to Mt. Gagazet, and vanished. Everyone assumed that he'd either died on Gagazet or in Zanarkand itself, as so many other summoners had. Another summoner had succeeded in defeating Sin less than a month later, but people still spoke of Sephiroth's loss in tones of grief and regret. And here the man was, standing right in front of him.

Belatedly Cloud realized he was just standing there like a fool, gaping at the man who had been the closest thing to a hero Cloud had ever had. His memory of seeing Sephiroth that day, of the way people had treated the man with respect and awe, had been one of his inspirations for becoming a summoner himself. Hastily he ducked his head and brought his hands together, bowing. This once he would make the obeisance and truly mean it with all his heart.

"Stop that, both of you." Sephiroth sounded irritated and uncomfortable, almost embarrassed. Cloud didn't have the courage to lift his head to see what the man's expression was. "Zack, I told you years ago, there's no need to call me that. It is a title I no longer have any wish to possess, and you are my friend."

Cloud dared to turn his head enough to see Zack, who had straightened. His guardian's expression was oddly sympathetic. "You may not want it, but you sure earned it tonight," Zack said, his smile gentle. "C'mon, shows of genuine respect from me are few and far between. Don't check the toes of a gift chocobo."

Sephiroth ignored Zack's teasing with no more than a long-suffering sigh in response. "Cloud, please, stand up. At the very least, as one summoner to another I no more outrank you than the moon outranks the sun."

"Nice analogy, Seph," Zack commented, tugging at a lock of Cloud's blond hair and giving Sephiroth's own silver mane a pointed glance. Sephiroth chuckled softly and inclined his head in acknowledgement of the comparison.

Hesitantly Cloud lifted his head, feeling as shy as he had when he'd once tried to ask Tifa on a date. His heart was pounding just as hard as it had then, but this time it was awe that caused his nerves rather than a crush. He felt like he suddenly didn't know how to speak to the man, as if he should be apologizing for having treating him so casually before.

"Lord Sephiroth," he started awkwardly. "I... I should thank you... I don't deserve... I mean..."

"Please, I beg you. Don't call me that," Sephiroth said. "The last thing I want is for people to realize that I am still alive and among them. I... am not that person any more. I am simply Seph, a former crusader - and former summoner, when I must be."

Cloud nearly swallowed his tongue, but he couldn't disobey a direct request. "All right... Seph. Um. Wh-what will you do now?"

"Come with you as far as Luca, I suppose," Sephiroth said reluctantly. "You need training, and I doubt you will find anyone else to give it to you. I can at least teach you the basic white magic spells by then, and explain the most important things you need to know about what is expected of a summoner."

"You're coming with us?" Zack lit up like the Blitzdome at night, his eyes hopeful.

"Only as far as Luca," Sephiroth repeated sternly. "Since I must return there, anyway, I might as well go with you."

Cloud bowed again, overwhelmed. Of all the people in Spira, he would be getting private lessons in being a summoner from Lord General Sephiroth. Not in his wildest dreams of becoming a summoner had he ever imagined anything like this.

"I won't disappoint you, sir," he promised fervently. "I'll do whatever it takes, I swear it." He would live up to Sephiroth's expectations of him if it killed him. He owed the man nothing less, after what Sephiroth had done for him this day.

[Fic] A Long Road To Destiny - FFVII/FFX - Zack, Cloud & Sephiroth - 2/26

2009-06-11T16:33:18Z

Title: A Long Road to Destiny
Series: FFVII/FFX fusion
Pairing: Cloud, Zack & Sephiroth
Rating: R
Warnings: violence, angst, swearing, the usual
Chapter length: 4800
Total length: 10,992

The summoner's journey is a long, hard path to walk. Having guardians you trust makes all the difference in the world.

Cloud wasn't sure when the fayth released him. At some point he was vaguely aware that he'd fallen to his knees and was hunched in on himself, arms wrapped around him as if to help keep him from exploding. The raw energy pouring through his system was too much for him to handle, too much for anyone to handle. It was like he'd swallowed the whole universe, and now it was trying to expand inside him.

He struggled to hang on to himself, clinging with metaphorical teeth and nails to life. He forgot about his desire to bring the Al Bhed and Spirans together, forgot about his need to prove that he wasn't useless. There was no room in his brain for thought, only a primitive will to survive driving him to fight through the pain.

Slowly, so slowly he'd have screamed in frustration if he hadn't already been screaming in agony, the searing pulse of power began to subside. After some indefinable amount of time, Cloud was able to stop screaming long enough to gasp for breath. Seconds or centuries later awareness of the world outside his skin returned as the pain eased. The air in the Chamber felt blessedly cool against his over-sensitive body.

Cloud forced his eyes open, panting for air and trying to stop the shaking in his body. The fayth had vanished, the Hymn continuing as if nothing had happened, but it had left an invisible mark on Cloud. Deep inside him he could feel something resonating to the Hymn, something very large and very powerful.

He had no idea what had just happened. Surely not all summoners went through this! He'd nearly died, and he still wasn't sure if he'd passed or failed the test. Or if it had been a test at all, and not just the fayth trying to kill him for his presumption.

He tried to get to his feet, and nearly cracked his head open on the floor when his knees gave out on him instead. If he'd thought he was physically exhausted and emotionally drained before he'd entered the temple, it was nothing compared to how he felt right now. He desperately hoped Zack hadn't gone wandering off, because he didn't think he'd make it very far on his own. How long had it been?

After a moment to rest and gather his wits, he managed to half crawl, half drag himself over to the nearest wall. With that for support he somehow made it to his feet, and lurched over to the door. He touched it, and nothing happened. Trembling, he pushed at it with all the strength he had left, and still nothing happened. It remained locked, and there was no other way out.

"You couldn't kill me, so you're going to keep me here until I starve to death?" he cried out, pounding weakly at the door. "Why did you send me here if it was just to die?"

He swayed as power rose abruptly within him. Ghostly feathers brushed against the inside of his skin, making him shiver. A momentary harmony joined the melody of the Hymn, and the whole chamber resonated with it. The door slid open smoothly, as if it had never resisted him at all. Trying not to cry with relief, Cloud staggered out into the larger chamber beyond.

Zack was still there, practicing headshots against the wall with a blitzball that he'd produced from somewhere. He missed the next shot when he caught side of Cloud, his eyes going comically wide. "Cloud! Are you okay? What happened, did it not work?"

Cloud opened his mouth, but nothing emerged past his abused throat but a croak. He shook his head, and that proved to be a mistake. The world spun with the motion, and kept spinning even after he made himself stay still.

Strong arms caught and supported him, lowering him gently until he could sit on the stairs. For the second time that day Cloud realized he could hear Zack talking to him as if from a great distance, sounding concerned. "...kay? Cloud? Hey, answer me! Damn it, what the hell happened in there?"

"I don't know," Cloud croaked, then coughed weakly. Zack grabbed a canteen and unscrewed the cap, holding it to Cloud's lips. Gratefully Cloud gulped down the contents, the cool water helping to ease some of the rawness in his throat from the screaming. "How long was I in there?"

"Eight minutes and thirty-five seconds ," Zack replied, shocking him. "I didn't expect to see you for hours yet. Seph warned me some summoners stay in the chamber for a day or more. Did it refuse you after all?"

"I'm not sure," Cloud said slowly. He pressed a shaking hand against his chest, where it still felt like there was something more inside him than there had been before. "I can't tell if it was testing me, or just mocking me and trying to kill me." He coughed again, and groaned. "Either way, it's over."

Zack brushed his bangs back off his sweaty brow, looking worried. "I think we'd better get you back upstairs. I should've brought a potion or something with me, but most of my equipment is still back in the temple's guest quarters. C'mon."

Cloud tried to find the strength to protest that he couldn't walk yet, but it seemed Zack had other ideas anyway. The guardian slung one of Cloud's arms over his shoulder and wrapped his own arm around Cloud's waist, then hauled him to his feet. In that position most of Cloud's weight was supported by Zack, and all he had to do was stumble along beside the bigger man.

"I know you're not supposed to talk about what happened in there," Zack said, subdued. "And I won't ask. But... do you really think it was trying to kill you? I couldn't hear a thing from out here, but you sure sound half dead."

"Yes. No. I don't know." Cloud rested his head against Zack's shoulder. It was oddly comforting to have the man there next to him, supporting him. Nobody but his mother had ever been this close to him before, and she wasn't a physically affectionate person. Not that she didn't love him, she just didn't show it by touching him. "Still sure you want to be my guardian?"

"Yeah." Zack didn't say anything else, but the conviction in his voice was firm enough that he didn't need to.

The priests were lurking in the vicinity of the main chapel above, ostensibly cleaning or performing other tasks but all of them jumped the moment the door opened and Zack carried Cloud through. They looked first shocked, then smug as they saw the state Cloud was in. It wasn't hard to tell they believed he had failed utterly.

Stung, Cloud somehow found the strength to pull away from Zack and stand on his own. He was still a little unsteady, enough that Zack had to help him with a hand on his shoulder as they descended the stairs, but he managed. How often had he seen that look in the eyes of the people of Nibelheim? They all took every chance they could find to ridicule him and call him a failure, to tell him that he wasn't good enough to be one of them.

There was only one person who wasn't waiting in anticipation of his failure. Seph frowned when he saw them, and strode across the room to meet them. "What happened? Could you not get through the Trial?"

"Nope, we made it through no problem," Zack said. Cloud let his guardian tell the story, since he needed all his strength for walking. "He went into the chamber, then staggered right back out again a few minutes later, looking like he'd been battling Sin for days. Is that normal?"

"No," Seph said, studying him curiously. Cloud flushed, but did his best to ignore it. "No, it's not. Summoners are often drained when they leave the chamber, sometimes even to the point of collapse, but I've never heard of one being injured."

"I told you it was folly." The high priest stepped out of an alcove, scowling at the three of them. "No Al Bhed could ever become a summoner. I only hope you have not so drastically offended the fayth that it will refuse to treat with other apprentice summoners for a time. Let this be a lesson for you, heathen."

The new power inside Cloud stirred, and his own anger rose to match it. A furious sort of restlessness overtook him, and he was seized with the need to do something. Without thinking about what he was doing he turned and stormed out of the temple. "Watch," he snarled back over his shoulder at the priest. "And eat your words."

When he stopped he found himself at the centre of a tiled area just in front of the temple. The mosaic pattern of the stones was the same as the glyph in the chamber of the fayth, and for the briefest instant he thought he could see the little girl standing there, smiling at him. Then the power rose up inside him, a huge feathered beast fighting and clawing to burst free. Cloud thrust a fist into the air, throwing his head back and screaming his defiance of the priests and all their petty prejudices.

Something screamed back at him from high above, and a shaft of pure light speared down through the clouds. Something large and solid burst through after it, spiralling rapidly towards the ground. At the last possible moment it snapped out its massive wings and slowed, landing beside him with a violent thump. It screamed again, the piercing cry of a hunting raptor, wings canted back and head extended to its limit.

Cloud had never seen anything like it, but there could be no doubting what it was. Besaid's aeon, the first milestone in the summoner's journey. It had come to his call, marking him as a true summoner, no matter his race.

He could hear shocked whispers around him, but all his attention was on the aeon. It - she, there was no mistaking her femininity despite the alien nature of her form - cocked her head at him. She trilled softly in the back of her throat, a sound of welcome and apology. "It's okay," he assured it, losing his heart utterly as he stared into her beautiful, too-intelligent eyes. It looked... sad. "I forgive you. I don't know why you did it this way, but it's okay." Hesitantly he reached up and ran his fingers through the feathers just behind her crest. She crooned and lowered her head so he could reach more easily, and he grinned and scratched harder.

"Wow," a soft voice said from just behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see Zack hovering a respectful distance away, with all the villagers and priests ranged out much further behind him. "Wow, she's gorgeous. Guess you did it after all, huh? I knew you would." He smiled, and Cloud actually believed that he meant it. "So what's your name, beautiful?" He addressed his last words directly to the aeon, and she chirped at him. Cloud experienced a wash of amusement, and realized it was coming from the aeon. His own feelings echoed hers. It seemed Zack would flirt with anything female, not just pretty Spiran girls.

"Jymavun," he answered for her, the name appearing in his mind. "Her name is Jymavun. You should go," he added, a little shyly. "Someone might need you." He remembered hearing somewhere that only one incarnation of a particular aeon could exist in the world at any given moment. While he kept her here to show off, another summoner elsewhere might be dying.

She made a sound remarkably like a chocobo's wark, then stepped back and fanned her wings. Cloud and Zack hastily got out of the way, and she launched herself into the sky with a powerful thrust of her hind legs. In moments she was gone, faded away into nothing like the spirit she truly was.

"Well," Zack said, and patted his shoulder. "That's that. Nobody can argue that you can't be a summoner, now."

"Yeah," Cloud agreed, still watching the place where Jymavun had disappeared. Deep in his heart he could feel the aeon's power still pulsing, slowly settling into something his body could handle without pain.

His life would never be the same again.

The bonfire crackled and roared, the flames leaping into the night sky. Showers of sparks like a swarm of pyreflies danced and spun around it. Cloud kept well away, wary of the flames and preferring to stay as much out of sight as possible. Standing near the fire would just make him a more visible target.

The bonfire appeared to be the only thing enjoying the celebration. Even the music was lacklustre, as if the players would rather be doing anything else. The Spirans gathered around were subdued, clustered together in tight little knots, whispering among themselves and casting nervous glances at Cloud when they spotted him. He wondered what exactly they thought he was going to do. Summon Jymavun to rain destruction down on them? Raze the temple in a fit of heretic rage?

Not that he wasn't a little more tempted every time he caught one of those sidelong glances.

"This is bullshit."

Cloud jumped, and turned to find that Zack had appeared beside him. For such a big man he was remarkably good at being stealthy, and as far as Cloud could tell, he wasn't even doing it on purpose.

"What is?" he asked, uneasy. He'd known Zack less than a day, but he already knew that the dark, brooding expression the man wore now was unusual. Was Zack mad at him? Had he done something wrong, broken yet another unspoken law of Yevon that he didn't even know about?

"This." Zack gestured at the crowd, his movements short and choppy. "They should be dancing, singing, welcoming you! A new summoner is always something to be celebrated. In Kilika we have a huge party every time someone masters our temple's aeon, and we're not even the start of the journey."

Cloud shrugged. He hadn't expected anything different. They weren't stoning him or chasing him off the island, at least. That had to count as a step in the right direction. "I told you this would happen. Nobody is going to be happy about an Al Bhed summoner. It's only going to get worse from here." He looked away from Zack, and fought to keep his voice casual. "Sure you don't want to change your mind?"

Zack snorted. "Not if Lady Yunalesca herself walked up and asked me to be her guardian." He clapped Cloud on the shoulder, and let his hand rest there, squeezing gently. "This just makes me all the more determined to go with you. If nothing else, somebody's gotta remind you that not all Spirans are prejudiced assholes."

He smiled, and Cloud flushed. He had been starting to feel that way, he realized. But even in Nibelheim there had been a few people who had been kind to him. Tifa, first and foremost. There had been random strangers on the road here who had given him shelter or a ride, Spiran as well as Al Bhed. And now there were Zack and Seph, who championed him as if there was nothing strange about him, as if it was the only choice they could have made.

"Where's Seph?" he asked, reminded of the other man's existence. The enigmatic man had vanished at some point while Cloud was absorbed with Jymavun, and Cloud hadn't seen him since.

"Oh, brooding somewhere, probably." Zack shrugged. "He does that a lot. Don't worry, it's not you. I think this place holds a lot of memories for him, and they're not all good."

Cloud nodded. He knew how that could work, all too well. As long as he knew it wasn't something he'd done to drive Seph away, he would leave the man to his own thoughts.

Looking around at the villagers, he sighed. "How soon do you think I can sneak away? Without offending anyone more than I already do just by existing, I mean." He was already tired of the suspicious, fearful looks. He knew he was going to be seeing a lot more of them before he reached Zanarkand, but that didn't mean he had to voluntarily remain here to be stared at right now.

"Oh, you could probably plead exhaustion any t..."

"Sin!"

Perhaps it was an inbred survival instinct, or perhaps it was just grim experience. Everyone over the age of ten whirled to face the source of the shout, even though most of them shouldn't have been able to hear over the music and roar of the bonfire. They all stood frozen for a long moment, disbelieving.

Rising up out of the ocean behind the temple was a huge, solid mass. Cloud stared at it, baffled by the fact that he couldn't find a head or tail. Then he realized that what he was looking at was just a fin, like the dorsal fins on the dolphins who had followed the ferries. He swallowed hard and shivered. He'd heard stories of the monster all his life, but this was the first time he'd ever actually seen it. It was an honour he'd just as soon have forgone.

Gravity seemed to reverse itself. First small, light things began to float upwards, then larger objects. People started screaming and running for shelter, snatching up children and shoving other people out of the way. Many headed straight for the temple as the sturdiest structure in the village. Cloud heard the sound of breaking branches in the trees, and some of the smaller buildings were starting to tear themselves to pieces. A small child was dragged right off the ground, shrieking, and its mother lunged for it frantically.

"Crusaders, to arms!" called the same deep voice that had cried the warning. Cloud finally spotted Seph standing on the roof of the temple, his hair flying around him like a beautiful silver banner. He showed no signs of panic, only a calm, assured presence. "Gather on the beach, half circle formation. We will repel the fiends from there. Civilians, take shelter in the temple!" He turned and leapt down from the side of the temple that faced the beach, and the moonlight flashed off the long blade of a sword held in his left hand.

Already a swarm of dark shapes were detaching from the fin, flying through the air to land out of sight behind the temple. Cloud heard a screech and a man's battle roar, and he knew Seph had engaged the first of the fiends.

"Anyone who can handle a weapon of any kind, form line behind the Crusaders," Zack shouted, his voice somehow pitched to carry over the chaos, just as Seph's had been. "Fishing spears, nets, slings, I don't care. You!" He pointed at a group of people in matching yellow clothing, who were helping people get to the temple. "Aurochs. Grab your blitzballs and get down there. You should be able to kick hard enough to at least stun them for a minute. Anything that buys the Crusaders time to kill them is worth it!"

The players of the Besaid Aurochs hesitated, looking at each other uncertainly. "Should we oughtta be listenin' to him?" one of them asked hesitantly.

The man in the captain's uniform shrugged. "He sound like he knows what he doin', ya? Better dan doin' nothin'. Aurochs, move out!"

"Cloud, c'mon, we gotta get down there," Zack urged him, tugging at his arm.

Nodding, Cloud followed him around the temple. As he ran he grabbed for the short sword hanging from his belt. He wasn't exactly a trained fighter, but he'd survived the journey here. The sword was one he'd gotten from a fiend along the way, and it was poisoned, which helped a lot.

To his surprise, Zack shook his head and gestured at Cloud's sword. "No, forget about the fiends. Keeping them off your back is my job. You need to summon and try to chase Sin away from the island, or we'll be overwhelmed eventually."

"Chase off Sin?" Cloud's voice squeaked, and he'd have been embarrassed if he wasn't too busy being panicked. "With just the first aeon? Are you crazy?"

"You don't have to kill it, just drive it away," Zack insisted. "Hurry!"

They'd reached the beach, and it was a scene of utter chaos. Crusaders battling Sin scales seemed to be everywhere, and more scales were trying to edge around their flanks. Civilians, including the Aurochs, were holding those ones at bay. Seph was at the head of the battle, long sword flashing and hair swirling around him as he spun and slashed. Scales fell before him in waves, killed before they ever came close enough to attack him.

Cloud closed his eyes to try to concentrate, but he couldn't block out the noise and the smell. People were screaming and shouting, the fiends were voicing inhuman shrieks, and above it all rose Seph's commanding voice back by Zack's shouted orders. The stench of blood and ichor was heavy in the air, like a rotten perfume that made Cloud want to gag. Sin's deadly gravity still pulled at him, threatening to drag him right off his feet.

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to ignore it all and reached for the core of power that now lived inside him. He could feel Jymavun resonating with something, as if she was responding to the presence of Sin. Softly, drifting over the clamour of the battlefield, he thought he heard the Hymn of the Fayth. He used that to help him focus, humming along with it under his breath.

Power surged inside him, and once more he thrust his fist up into the air. A beam of light cut through the night sky, and Jymavun fell screaming out of the heavens right behind it.

The world around him seemed to fade away, colours bleeding out and sounds softening as he if he was experiencing everything through a layer of gauze. In contrast both Jymavun and Sin were bright and sharp, looming large in his vision and the only things he could truly focus on. He felt Jymavun's thoughts merge with his own, alien and yet comforting at the same time. She screamed her rage at the monster, and turned her dive into a shallow arc that sent her speeding towards Sin.

Cloud's spirit soared out across the water with Jymavun, marvelling at the sensation of flight as the air rippled over her feathers. She swerved abruptly to dodge a piece of debris, then ducked under another, fighting for every inch she got closer to Sin. The fierce winds pulled at her, trying to suck her into the vortex of destruction that swirled around Sin.

Finally she reached the monster itself. Alternately hovering and darting through the air, she clawed at it and buffeted it with her powerful wings. Though Cloud could see that she was doing damage to the tough hide, Sin seemed oblivious to her efforts. Lurking below the surface of the water, he could just make out the creature's true bulk. It was massive, like a mountain come to life. Cloud despaired. How could he ever hope to beat that? Let alone do so with only the first aeon.

Jymavun backwinged and hovered, power building before her as she concentrated all of her energy. A beam of light so bright it seared Cloud's eyes all the way from shore lanced out, strafing across the side of the monster.

This attack it noticed. With a sound of rage like nothing that could ever come from the throat of something natural, Sin reared up farther out of the water. Too late Cloud and Jymavun saw the tentacle lash out straight towards her.

Jymavun tried to dodge, but Sin was unbelievably fast for something so huge. The tentacle caught her squarely across her body, and the aeon exploded in a shower of pyreflies.

Jerked abruptly back into his own body, Cloud screamed in shared agony. It felt like he was dying, nearly as horrible as when the fayth had poured her power into him. He fell to his knees, clutching at his chest. Frantically he searched inside himself for a trace of that power. Surely it wasn't truly dead? Was it only his own that would suffer the consequences of his rash attack on Sin, or would every summoner lose access to Besaid's aeon?

The sound of screaming nearby reminded him that Sin wasn't the only opponent he had to worry about. He opened his eyes just in time to see a blitzball headed straight for his face at high speed. Cloud yelped and ducked reflexively, but he was too slow to hope to avoid it. Someone flung a hand between him and the ball, catching it neatly an instant before it would have made contact, saving him from a broken nose or worse.

He looked up to see Zack holding the ball in one hand, his giant sword in the other as if it weighed no more than a chocobo feather. "Hey, watch what you're aiming at!" his guardian yelled at two nearby Aurochs. Tossing the ball up, he executed a spinning kick that sent it blazing straight at a Sin scale, hard enough to knock the fiend over. Two more fiends immediately launched themselves at him. Zack got in front of him, wielding his sword with the same careless ease with which he'd handled the blitzball.

Cloud fumbled for his own sword, knowing it was hopeless. Without an aeon to fight Sin, they were surely doomed.

Sin voiced its inhuman roar once more, and the pull of the cyclone increased as if in response. Cloud looked towards the ocean, certain he was about to see his own death crashing down on him.

Instead he saw what had to be an aeon flying high above the water, racing towards Sin like an arrow launched from a crossbow. It was far larger than Jymavun, a mighty dragon to her graceful gryphon. Even from this distance Cloud could feel the power resonating from it. Throbbing in his eardrums he could hear the Hymn of the Fayth, so strong he couldn't even be certain whether the voice was male or female.

A massive wheel spun over its back, and power built so quickly Cloud's head ached with it. Like Jymavun its weapon was a breath attack, a beam of light bright enough to tear the heavens in two. It followed the same path Jymavun's attack had taken, but instead of merely scoring deeper into the monster's flesh it sliced the top of the fin clean off.

Sin screamed in pain and fury, and turned away from the island. Slowly it sank beneath the water once more, and the maelstrom of debris above it began to settle. There were still scales scattered over the beach, but a few ragged cheers were already breaking out among the embattled Crusaders and villagers.

"Look out!"

Something hard hit Cloud from behind, throwing him to the ground and knocking the wind out of him. He flailed, thinking that a fiend had somehow gotten past Zack to get at him while he was distracted by the aeon. There was a soft, meaty thud above him, and the coppery tang of blood filled the air. He heard a soft 'oof', and then the weight on him seemed to increase exponentially.

He squirmed, and managed to get his head and arms out from under whatever was on him. When he craned his neck around to look, he found Zack slumped over him, protecting him with his own body. A handful of deadly looking spines protruded from his back, and Cloud could feel something warm and wet dripping down onto his back.

"Zack!" Frantic with worry, Cloud wrenched himself the rest of the way out from beneath his guardian. Zack didn't so much as twitch, out cold. Cloud hoped he was only unconscious. From the looks of it, the spines were only the latest wounds the man had taken.

Movement caught his eyes, and he looked up to find a Sin scale looming over them. Its wings shone with an eerie glow, and its menacing aura was unmistakeable. Cloud groped for his sword, and cursed when he realized it was still trapped under Zack's body. He snatched at the hilt of Zack's sword, but it was literally too heavy for him to lift.

The light of the scale's wings began to flicker ominously.

[Fic] A Long Road To Destiny - FFVII/FFX - Zack, Cloud & Sephiroth - 1/26

2009-06-08T03:53:13Z

Okay, so... I don't normally write fusions. The idea for this started as an RP years ago, and has stayed with me ever since. I'm having trouble writing much of anything at the moment, so I'm jumping on anything that I can get excited about. Much thanks to killiana for RPing this idea with me in the first place, and for giving me permission to make a fic out of it.

What this IS: a fic about FFVII characters, as if they had grown up on Spira rather than Gaia. It is a fusion, not a crossover. There are some obvious parallels, and some things that I've changed completely. This is still my pre-Crisis Core-release concept of these three characters, though I've included a few elements from CC as well. At the moment it's planned to be gen, (with some mention of and leaning towards canon het pairings, ie Zack/Aerith and Cloud/Tifa. Please do not bitch to me about the inclusion of these pairings. I like them, they're an integral part of the characterization, and there won't be anything blatant. Deal.) But we all know how fast things can turn yaoi in my stories. ;p

What this is NOT: a retelling of FFX events with the FFVII characters inserted in place of the originals. Obviously places and certain events are the same, but the plot is entirely constructed around the FFVII characters. There are no appearances of any FFX main characters. This is not one of my 'RP-style' stories; it is written as a true narrative and is only loosely related to the original RP we wrote.

I'm replaying FFX now to remind me of the settings and situations, but there may be errors in this story for things I haven't found again in the game. If you see anything blatantly wrong, please let me know!

Title: A Long Road to Destiny
Series: FFVII/FFX fusion
Pairing: Cloud, Zack & Sephiroth
Rating: R
Warnings: violence, angst, swearing, the usual
Chapter length: 6192
Total length: 6192

The summoner's journey is a long, hard path to walk. Having guardians you trust makes all the difference in the world.

If not for the high probability that there were fiends in the water, Cloud might have been tempted to throw himself overboard and swim for it the moment land came into view. Actually he was tempted anyway, he just wasn't - quite - desperate enough to try it. He clung to the rail and willed the island to approach faster, trying not to throw up. Again. Not that there was anything left in his stomach to lose, but bringing up bile hurt.

"Who ever heard of an Al Bhed that gets seasick?" he heard a crew member comment to another behind him.

"I still say it's suspicious that he wants to go to Besaid," the other replied. "I can't believe the captain let him on the ship."

Cloud flushed and ignored them, as he had ignored all such comments since the moment he'd boarded. Since the day he'd left home, actually, but it got worse the closer he got to his goal. An Al Bhed travelling throughout Spira was hardly an unusual sight, but one bound for the home of the first aeon was rare indeed. He couldn't exactly lie about his destination to these sailors; this ferry didn't go anywhere except between Kilika and Besaid.

And there it was, rising up out of the ocean like a tropical jewel, covered in lush greenery with the occasional ruin poking up here and there out of the trees. The beaches that surrounded it were so white against the cerulean blue of the ocean they were almost blinding. Cloud had never seen anything so beautiful in his life, and not just because it meant he'd soon be back on solid ground again. In just a few minutes he would reach the end of more than a month of exhausting travel, the dream he'd been striving towards for nearly ten years now.

Of course, if he succeeded, he was going to have to turn around and go right back again, but this time he'd be making the journey as a summoner. Everyone who had ever laughed at him, ever picked on him for his damned Al Bhed eyes, ever told him there was no place in the world for someone neither properly Al Bhed nor Spiran - they would all have to eat their words. He'd show them he was more than just worthless trash.

"Docking complete, captain," the first mate reported. "We can start letting the passengers off, now."

Those were the magic words Cloud had been waiting for. He heard a couple of snickers as he bolted for the gangplank, but they were easier to ignore than usual. All he cared about was the beautiful, wonderful, blessedly solid land only a few feet away.

Standing on the shore was bliss. Reaching the cool shade of the trees overhanging the path to the village was even better. Raised on a mountainside that was half-frozen even in the warmest part of summer, Cloud could never have imagined any place could get so hot. Kilika had been bad enough, but Besaid was ridiculous.

When he crested a hill and the village came into view below him, he forgot all about the heat. There it was, rising up like a giant stone shepherd with a flock of tents and huts; the temple of Besaid, home of the first aeon. The start of every summoner's pilgrimage since Sin had first appeared. Here, if he could prove that he was right and the fayth would accept a half-Al Bhed summoner, Cloud would begin his own journey.

But first he had to convince the priests to let him into the temple.

He kept his eyes on his feet as he made his way into the village. There were some blond Spirans, and here in the islands they weren't as rare as further inland. He suspected there was more Al Bhed blood in the islander population than the prejudiced Spirans were willing to admit. Cloud was dressed like a Spiran, and he knew the only accent he had was that of the Calm Lands, where he'd been raised. If he could just keep anyone from seeing his blasted eyes, he might be able to fool them into thinking he was truly one of them.

Excited whispers sprang up all around as people took note of him, and at first Cloud thought his ploy had failed. He cringed, waiting for the first angry shout - which hopefully would come soon enough before the first angry fist that he'd be able to turn tail and run. But as he strained his ears, he realized that the word being repeated over and over was not 'Al Bhed', but 'summoner'.

Some of the tension drained from his shoulders. Of course. Here, at the start of the summoner's journey, the people must be used to seeing potential summoners come and go. Now that Sin and its spawn were rampaging once more, not many people were risking the dangerous ocean voyages. So any stranger to this tiny village would almost certainly be either a summoner candidate or a guardian.

As he approached the temple the door swung open, revealing a kindly-looking priest of Yevon. Cloud kept his eyes down as he made the obeisance, pretending to be even shier than he actually was. The priest returned the bow, and smiled at him. "Have you come for the Trial, my son?"

"Yes, maester," Cloud replied, ducking his head a little further. For once he was grateful that his hair had gotten too long during his journey, since his spiky bangs helped to hide his face.

"Where is your guardian?"

Cloud bit his lip, and chose his words carefully. "I've had to come a long way, maester. I didn't want to risk anyone else's life before I knew if I would even succeed. I'm sure once I've proved myself, I'll find a guardian." Maybe. If there was anyone out there crazy enough to agree to guard a half-Al Bhed. Cloud had a sneaking suspicion he would be the first summoner to complete the journey without a guardian, as well as the first one with Al Bhed blood.

"Ah." That seemed to satisfy the priest, at least. "Very selfless of you, my son. There are those who desire to be guardians but have no summoner; they often come here to wait for candidates who might need them. I believe there is one in residence this very moment. He arrived yesterday. But come. First you must face the Trial."

Relieved that it apparently wasn't completely bizarre to arrive with no guardian, Cloud followed the priest into the temple. His eyes widened, and he looked around with a sense of awe. There was a tiny little chapel dedicated to Yevon in Nibelheim, but this was the first time he'd ever been inside a proper temple. The one in Bevelle undoubtedly put this one to shame, but Besaid's temple was more than enough to impress a country boy like Cloud. Surrounding the central room like a ring of stone guardians were statues of every High Summoner who had come from Besaid. Arching above them were much larger statues of Lady Yunalesca and Sir Zaon, the first summoner and guardian. The statues were beautifully worked, every detail lovingly picked out and brought to life in the stone. The oldest statues looked a little worn, as if they'd been polished so often the stone was starting to wear away, but somehow that just made them appear even more perfect.

The priest turned to say something, and a shocked look crossed the old man's face. Too late Cloud realized he'd lifted his head to get a better view of the room, and revealed his eyes.

He spun and tried to bolt, but the priest was fast for his age. He managed to get a hand on Cloud's collar and jerked him half off his feet. "Heathen!" the priest thundered. "How dare you set foot in a temple of Yevon?"

Cloud twisted frantically, trying to slide out of his tunic. He only succeeded in tangling himself so his arms were bound, making it that much easier for the priest to hold him. Worse, the yelling was attracting the attention of the other priests, who were converging on them from other parts of the temple.

"An Al Bhed!" one of the acolytes exclaimed, skidding to a halt as he got a good look at Cloud. "What's he doing here?"

Boiling over with shame and fury, Cloud glared for all he was worth. "I'm not hurting anything by being here, damn it. I'm only half Al Bhed!"

They weren't listening. Two more acolytes grabbed at him, pinning him securely in place. The old man shook him roughly, like a dog with a cactuar. "You seek to defile our temple, is that it?" he demanded.

"No! I just want to take the Trial," Cloud spat.

There were gasps from the group of priests, and he saw at least one make the holy obeisance like a reflexive attempt to ward off his heresy. "Planning to sabotage the Trial, no doubt," one said grimly.

"Or desecrate the Chamber of the Fayth," the old priest agreed. "Throw him out, and be certain he doesn't get back in."

Cloud growled, but didn't bother to defend himself further. The fucking Spirans were all alike; they took one look at his damned eyes and assumed he had to be up to no good.

The junior priests and acolytes were not gentle as they 'escorted' him to the door. More than one took the chance to punch, kick, or otherwise hurt him, taunting him all the while. He refused to give them the satisfaction of responding in any way. That was a lesson he'd learned the hard way, from the bullies at home in Nibelheim. But when they literally threw him out the door he landed awkwardly against the stairs, and Cloud couldn't quite stifle a cry as he felt something in his arm snap.

He lay stunned for a long moment, gasping for air as pain and the heat pressed down on him. He felt like he was being smothered, as if there wasn't enough room in his body for air and his despair at the same time. All around him he could hear shocked whispers turning to angry mutters as the priests informed the villagers of their version of events.

Cloud wanted very badly to cry. Not only had he failed to become a summoner, not only was he now too broke and injured to even be able to crawl home again, but if he was very lucky he was about to have a mob of angry Spirans out for his blood. Well, at least that would solve the problem of what to do next, since they'd likely rip him to pieces for 'defiling the temple'.

The same pride that kept his burning eyes from spilling over also forced him to his feet. By the fayth, he would at least face the bastards like a man, not the coward they liked to call him. Swaying with pain and exhaustion, he spat at the temple. "Bnazitelat yccrumac!" he shouted hoarsely, lapsing into Al Bhed as he sometimes did when he was too angry to think in Spiran. "Cuhc uv y ceh clyma yht y lyldiyn!"

"Okay, I got the gist of most of that," an amused tenor said from behind him. "But what's banizlat mean?"

"Bnazitelat," a deeper voice corrected him. "It means 'prejudiced'."

Surprised to hear someone speaking his language with no discernable accent, Cloud turned. To his further surprise both men before him were obviously Spiran. One, dark-haired and broad-shouldered, looked oddly familiar, though Cloud was certain they'd never met. The other, taller and more solemn than his companion, had a face much too young for the pure silver colour of his long hair.

A guardian and summoner, or Cloud would eat his sword. He was probably about to eat their swords. Grimly he braced himself and glared, daring them to do their worst. Let them strike the first blow. The rest of the village would follow soon enough.

The dark one winced and gestured at his arm. "Ouch. That looks painful. Hey, Seph, you gonna do something about that, or make me waste a hi-potion?"

A cool green glow settled over Cloud's body, and the pain in his arm vanished. Startled, he stared at the taller man, who was murmuring the last words to a cura spell under his breath. Gingerly Cloud flexed his hand, then bent his arm, testing it. There was no pain, not so much as a twinge. When he reached up to wipe the blood from his mouth he found the cuts and swelling there had vanished as well, along with the bruising that had been threatening to force his eye shut.

All that with a cura? Most of the healers Cloud had ever met would have needed to cast curaga to heal that much with a single spell. Cloud was awed.

"Better?" the brunet asked. "What was that all about, anyway? The priests here seemed nice enough when I talked to them yesterday. They sure as fayth didn't break anything throwing me out!"

"You're not Al Bhed, Zack," the tall man pointed out with a sigh that said he was used to having to state the obvious for his companion.

"Well, no. But still... hey, can you even understand us?" The man, Zack, was looking at him in concern. Cloud hadn't found his tongue yet, too shocked by the rescue from an entirely unexpected quarter. "Uh, crap, I don't think he speaks Spiran. The only Al Bhed I know is rude. Seph?"

"Lyh oui ihtancdyht ic?" Seph asked. As before, his accent was flawless.

Finally Cloud managed to remember how to talk. "I'm an Al Bhed who was just thrown out of a temple of Yevon. Most Spirans would have left me to rot, at best. What does a summoner and his guardian care about me?"

Zack blinked, and grinned. "Oh. I guess you do speak Spiran. Well, good. That makes this a lot easier."

"I am not a summoner," Seph demurred. "But that is beside the point. Why were you trying to enter the temple?"

Cloud's crushing defeat got the best of him, and he spoke without thinking. "To sabotage it, obviously. To defile it with my evil and unholy presence. Because I certainly can't think of ten better ways to accomplish that than just walking in and..."

Black spots ate at his vision, and Cloud lost track of what he was saying. Cure spells were useful, but they still required some energy from the one affected, and this one had pushed him past already strained limits. Distantly he was aware of a concerned voice, but his knees had gone weak and it took everything he had just to stay on his feet. Strong hands braced him by the shoulders, nudging him to sit. Cloud obeyed gratefully, ending up with his head between his knees as he fought just to breathe.

When his vision cleared he found both of the strangers crouched next to him. "Take it easy, kid," Zack said gently. "We're not the bad guys, okay?"

"When was the last time you ate?" Seph asked, frowning.

"In Luca," Cloud mumbled, ducking his head in embarrassment. When Zack made a shocked noise, Cloud gave a half-shrug that ended with his shoulders hunched. "I get seasick. I couldn't keep anything down."

"A seasick Al Bhed? Wow, that's a new one." Zack looked bemused. "Tell you what. How about I buy lunch, and you can tell us your story when you're not all cranky and fainting from hunger? Never saw a situation that didn't look better when you're sitting on the outside of a good meal."

Cloud would have liked to protest that he didn't want charity. However much he might not want it, unfortunately, he did need it. The last of his gil had bought him passage on the ship to Besaid, and he was too weak to fight fiends to earn more. Assuming he wouldn't pass out in the middle of a battle, like he had just now. At least it seemed as if these two Spirans genuinely wanted to help him, for whatever bizarre reason.

"Fine. But I don't owe you anything," he said, wanting to make that clear. The fayth alone knew what these two wanted from him. They had to want something. Nobody was nice to an Al Bhed just for the hell of it. He'd learned that lesson all too well in his life.

"Paranoid little bastard, isn't he?" Zack remarked to Seph, clearly amused. "No, you don't owe us anything. C'mon, let's get some food into you."

There weren't exactly a lot of options for buying food; Besaid was such a tiny village that the only reason there were services for travellers at all was because of the temple. Zack managed to cajole a young mother into selling him some fried balls of fish paste and coconut. Every time she cast a suspicious look at Cloud, Zack would smile and distract her by flirting, making her blush. Something about his smile made Cloud certain he recognized the man, but he couldn't figure out how for the life of him.

Zack had been right about one thing, at least; with more than his fair share of the fish balls in his stomach, Cloud found he suddenly had a much brighter outlook on life. The mob had been deflected, he wasn't injured, and for the first time in days he wasn't either starving, or sick, or both.

"So?" Zack asked, watching with that amused smile still on his face as Cloud polished off the last of the food. "What's your name, kid? You gonna tell us your story, or do we have to start making guesses? Because I'm warning you, I've got a hell of an imagination."

"And an amazing ability to embarrass people in the most spectacular way with your conjectures," Seph commented drily. "I suggest you not put him to the test," he added to Cloud.

His mouth twitching with a desire to smile despite himself, Cloud ducked his head. "My name is Cloud. I came here to take the Trial," he admitted, braced for the cry of outrage that would surely follow.

It never came. "Huh," Zack said, sounding intrigued. "I didn't think there were any Al Bhed who followed Yevon."

"He's part Spiran," Seph said.

"How can you tell?" Both Cloud and Zack stared at him in surprise. Then they blinked at each other, startled by their perfect unison. Cloud shook his head. He knew he looked like a full-blood Al Bhed. Hadn't people been calling him a bastard and his mother a whore his whole life, for just that reason? She swore she had never been with anyone but his father, but Cloud was probably the only person in the entire village who actually believed her.

Seph raised an eyebrow at them. "He has blue eyes," he pointed out. "Pureblood Al Bhed always have green eyes. It's subtle, but unmistakeable if you know what to look for. Was one of your grandparents Spiran?"

"Two of them, actually," Cloud said, unable to keep a touch of bitterness out of his voice. "My father was Spiran. So my mother claims, but..." He looked up at Seph shyly. "You're the first person who's ever been able to tell." Maybe his faith in his mother wasn't so misplaced after all. He tried to remember the Al Bhed he'd met on his journey here, but he couldn't recall noticing their eye colour. He'd seen blond hair and the distinctive swirled pupils, and hadn't needed to look any further. He flushed, realizing he'd behaved exactly like one of the Spirans he hated so much for judging him by his eyes. "Do they really all have green eyes?"

"Wouldn't you know?" Zack asked him curiously.

Cloud shrugged. "Until a month ago the only other Al Bhed I'd ever seen was my mother. She has green eyes, but how was I supposed to know it wasn't just her?"

"So you were raised Spiran," Zack exclaimed in the tone of one who has just had a revelation. "That explains the clothes and the lack of accent. And the seasickness, I guess." He smiled, taking the bite out of his teasing words. "And that's why you follow Yevon. Makes sense. Must be hard on you, though."

"Don't get me wrong," Cloud corrected him, eyes narrowed. "I grew up in a Spiran village, but my mother raised me to be smart enough not to believe anything on blind faith. I don't follow Yevon and I do think you're all nuts for sitting around, hoping to someday be 'good enough' that Sin won't return. But I'm Spiran enough that I respect the Summoner's Choice, and I think if one person is willing to sacrifice themselves to buy everyone else a little time to breathe, they should be honoured."

"You don't believe in Yevon, but you want to be a summoner?" Zack stared at him. "You realize that's a total contradiction, don't you?"

Cloud sighed. "I thought... maybe if a half Al Bhed became a summoner, it would make both groups stop arguing over religious differences and start working together to find a real solution. Instead of just doing the same things over and over again, creating more and more hostilities between the races."

"A noble sentiment. Unfortunately for you, Al Bhed are indeed forbidden from setting foot in any of Yevon's temples." Seph frowned. "However, any Spiran who wishes to attempt the Trials may do so. As a half Spiran, you should fall into that category."

"He oughta know," Zack told Cloud. "I think he's got every temple rule and precept memorized."

Curious, Cloud studied the tall man. He wasn't dressed as a priest, and claimed not to be a summoner. Yet he knew so much about Yevon, and there was a sort of... otherworldly aura to him, as if there was a part of his attention fixed on a world nobody else could see. Cloud knew that look; he saw it in his own eyes sometimes when he caught an unexpected glimpse of his reflection in a pond or window. And it had been on the face of every High Summoner's statue in the temple.

"I think perhaps I'll just go have a chat with the priests," Seph said as he rose, a determined glint in his eyes. "Remind them of some of the tenets of their own faith. I believe you two have private matters to discuss."

"Huh? We do?" Confused, Cloud watched him walk away.

"I think I know what he means," Zack said. "I'm gonna take a wild guess that you don't have a guardian yet?"

Cloud snorted. "Are you kidding me? Who in their right mind would guard an Al Bhed summoner?"

"Well, me for one, though I'll admit people have accused me of not being in my right mind before this," Zack informed him cheerfully. "Lucky for you, I happen to be a guardian in need of a summoner. Works out nicely, I think."

"You... what?" Cloud stared at him, certain he'd misunderstood. "You're offering to be my guardian? You don't even know me!"

"I wouldn't know any other summoner I happen to meet here, either," Zack pointed out. "I like your attitude. You've got guts, and heart. And I know you're doing this for a good reason, which is more than I can say for the glory hounds."

Cloud flushed. He might say he had lofty and noble reasons for sacrificing himself as a summoner - and he did, on some level. But the true reason he was doing this was to prove that everyone who had ever called him a loser was wrong. Including himself.

"Do you realize what you're letting yourself in for?" he asked. "These priests won't be the last to call me a heretic and throw me out. Spirans and Al Bhed will be trying to stop me, maybe even hurt me, for stepping all over their beliefs. They'll call you a traitor."

"You're facing all that and worse. If you can handle it, so can I," Zack insisted. "So what do you say?"

Cloud was totally at a loss. This ran completely counter to everything he'd ever learned about people. Zack seemed sincere. If he had an ulterior motive or hidden agenda, he was the best damned liar Cloud had ever met.

"I'd be crazy to say no," he finally replied, shaking his head. "But I won't hold it against you when you come to your senses later."

"Not gonna happen. I don't have any senses to come to, at least if you believe Seph and my mentor." Zack stood and clapped him on the shoulder. "Now, c'mon, Seph's probably got those priests nicely cowed by now."

They found Seph on his way back to them, looking very pleased with himself. He raised an eyebrow when he saw them walking together. "You've come to an agreement, then? Excellent. I believe you'll find the priests have had a change of heart. They're in a much more tolerant and welcoming mood, now." He inclined his head to Cloud in a respectful nod. "Luck has little to do with the success of a summoner, so I will simply wish the blessings of the fayth upon you, Lord Cloud."

Cloud sputtered and blushed. "I'm not a summoner yet," he protested. "I haven't earned that title." He didn't think he'd ever get used to hearing people call him that. Assuming anybody other than these two crazy Spirans bothered.

"I have faith in you," Seph said with a small smile. "Take care of him, Zack."

"Yes, sir!" Zack gave him a Crusader's salute, though the solemnity of the gesture was somewhat ruined by his huge grin. Seph waved them off, and headed for the path to the beach.

"Who is he?" Cloud asked Zack under his breath as they walked to the temple.

"Seph? He's, well... Seph." Zack shrugged helplessly. "He doesn't like to talk about his past, much. I spent a year in the Crusaders, and my commanding officer was an old friend of his. Angeal introduced us when he took me under his wing, and then Seph and I just sort of stuck together after I left." Zack sighed and looked rueful. "I convinced him to come with me to keep me company while I waited to find a summoner because I was kinda hoping to talk him into coming along. He needs something to make him feel useful, like his life is worthwhile. Obviously Yevon had other plans, though. Or he wouldn't have dumped you so blatantly into my path. Might as well have had a glowing sign over your head."

Cloud wasn't sure he much liked the idea of Yevon messing with his life, even if it had won him a guardian and entry to the temple. But he decided it wasn't worth arguing the point. The last thing he wanted to do was alienate Zack now by starting a religious argument.

He couldn't stop himself from tensing up as they walked into the temple. Zack hitched his sword harness a little higher, making it easier for him to get at the hilt of the huge broadsword slung across his back. It was a subtle gesture, nothing the priests could object to, but Zack might as well have shouted that he would back Cloud against the priests.

Despite himself Cloud was touched by the obvious and unquestioning support. He still had to wonder about Zack's sanity, but he no longer doubted the man's sincerity.

The acolytes glaring at them from the wings noticed, too. They hesitated, then turned their backs, deliberately ignoring Cloud and his new guardian. That was more than fine with Cloud, who was just as happy not to have to deal with them again. There was no sign of the old priest, either.

"I hope you know the way to the Trial, because I don't have a clue and I don't think they're going to show us," Cloud whispered.

Zack glanced around, then pointed at an open staircase ending at a closed door. "Up there, if this is the same layout as Kilika temple. You first, Lord Cloud."

"Don't you start," Cloud grumbled. Zack only laughed at him in response.

Nobody stopped them as they headed up the stairs, but past the first door they found only an empty room with four solid walls. Cloud halted, looking around in confusion. "Is this the wrong place?"

"I think maybe it's the start of the Trial," Zack said. "Let's just poke around a bit."

It took them some trial and error to work their way through the ensuing maze of spheres and invisible hallways. Cloud was awed all over again by the blatant and prolific use of magic. Seeing people cast the occasional esuna or fira spell was one thing. This was something else again.

As they rode the large platform down into the depths of the temple, the quality of the air around them changed. It felt almost electric, so pure it hurt to breathe, like standing at the top of the world's tallest mountain in the middle of a thunderstorm. A high, sweet voice that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once sang the Hymn of the Fayth. It was the most beautiful thing Cloud had ever heard, and he closed his eyes so he could absorb himself in it.

"...oud? Cloud? Hey, Cloud! Wake up!"

Someone shook him by the shoulder, snapping him out of the hypnotic effect of the music. Dazed, Cloud flailed, and nearly struck Zack by accident. When he realized it was his new guardian holding him and not an enemy or a bully, he calmed slightly, but he was very confused to find himself sitting on the floor in the middle of the elevator. Hadn't he been standing a moment ago?

"Hey, you okay?" Zack asked him, concerned. "You zoned out on me, there. Thought I'd lost you for a second. What was that all about?"

"Sorry, I just..." Shaken, Cloud rubbed a hand across his eyes. "It's the Hymn. It's so beautiful, I guess I... got lost in it." That had only happened to him once before, when he'd been a young boy. That it would happen now seemed to confirm his suspicions about the nature of the fayth. He was certain they would never hurt him, but it was still disturbing.

"Hymn?" Zack looked baffled. "What Hymn?"

"What Hymn?" Cloud stared at him. It wasn't as loud as it had been a moment before, but it was definitely still there, the soprano voice soaring like a bird in the sky. "The one someone is singing right now."

"I don't hear anything," Zack informed him uneasily. "It's dead silent down here. We must be way underground."

"But... but..." Cloud didn't know what to say. The song was so clear to him that it felt like the singer must be right behind him, just out of sight. How could Zack not hear it?

"Maybe it's a summoner thing," Zack suggested, offering him a hand up. "I don't have the aptitude for it, that's why I'm a guardian instead of a summoner myself. Can't be good at everything, I guess." He grinned. "Besides, I'd rather be around to enjoy being a hero once the journey is done, I'll admit it."

"Maybe," Cloud agreed, subdued. He looked around, and found they were in a large room with walls of carved stone. The elevator behind them and a broad staircase ahead were the only obvious exits. He decided he might as well try the visible one before searching for more hidden passages.

He was halfway up the stairs when he realized Zack wasn't following him. "Aren't you coming?" he asked, turning to look back over his shoulder in concern. Zack hadn't already changed his mind about being his guardian, had he? Had Cloud's little space out moment upset him that much?

Zack shook his head, but he didn't look like he was having second thoughts. "That's the Chamber of the Fayth up there," he said. "Nobody but the summoner is allowed inside. I have to wait out here. You're on your own, kid. Good luck."

On his own? Cloud panicked. What if there were more stupid puzzles inside? He'd needed Zack's help to get through the first set of Trials. What if there were traps, or fiends? What good was a guardian supposed to be if he was waiting around outside?

Reason reasserted itself. Gritting his teeth, Cloud turned and marched up the stairs, not allowing himself to look back. An hour ago he'd thought he would have to do all of this by himself, with no guardian at all. To whine now that it wasn't fair to deprive him of his guardian was ridiculous. He could do this.

He would do this.

He'd half expected to find the door locked by another puzzle, but it opened easily at his touch. When he stepped inside it snapped closed behind him again, abruptly enough to make him jump. Gingerly he tested it and wasn't really surprised to find that now it was locked.

"Great," he muttered, speaking aloud to keep himself company. "Just great. I guess that was my last chance to change my mind." Not that he planned to, but it was always nice to have the option of escape. Being cornered like this made him nervous.

His eyes were slowly adjusting to the muted light, and he surveyed the room. What illumination there was came from the eerie glow of the complicated glyph inscribed in the centre of the floor. Beneath it he thought he could see something, like a statue of some kind. There were no other exits, no sign of spheres or other glyphs to activate.

Approaching the glyph, he bowed and held his hands before him in the traditional prayer. Then his mind blanked. What was he supposed to do now? Was there some ritual or spell he was supposed to perform? Most apprentice summoners trained for years in a temple before attempting this, but that hadn't exactly been an option in his case.

Reminding himself of a promise he still had to keep, Cloud took a deep breath and drew strength from the Hymn. "I know I'm not a normal summoner," he said awkwardly. "I don't know all the rituals and frills, or how to be properly pious, or whatever. But I need your help. Uh, please." Not sure what else to do, he made the obeisance again.

"So. You've made it this far."

The voice matched the soprano still singing the Hymn, and when Cloud looked up he found a young girl standing on the glyph, watching him. She wasn't transparent or floating or any of the other traditional ghostly qualities, but the edges of her form were indistinct as if he was looking at her through water or flawed glass. There was also a sort of glow around her, like pyreflies so thick he couldn't see any one individual.

Cloud had seen something like this once, long ago. He stared at her, feeling both awed and vindicated. "It is you," he breathed out. "I'm not crazy." Nobody had ever believed his wild story of the fayth who'd saved his life on the frozen slopes of Mt. Gagazet. He'd soon stopped telling anyone, wary of being labelled insane. But he'd never forgotten the events of that day.

"You've made it this far," she repeated, tilting her head and studying him solemnly. "But can you go the distance? Can you do what needs to be done? It won't be easy."

"I know. The Spirans and the Al Bhed are both going to hate me." Cloud clenched his fists. "I'll do whatever it takes."

"Then take my power if you can, if you dare, child of two worlds. Prove that you have earned the right to be a summoner. Show me that you have the strength of will we need from you."

She reached out towards him, her expression challenging. Cloud felt a deep sense of foreboding, but he stepped forward to take her hands. His only other choice was to run away, and that was no choice at all.

Power slammed into him the moment his skin touched hers. It felt like he was frying inside his own skin, and he couldn't stop himself from screaming in agony. She gripped his hands tight to keep him from pulling away, and poured her essence into him until he was sure he would burst.

He screamed until his throat was raw, and then he screamed some more. Tears streamed down his face, but he was hardly aware of them through the haze of agony consuming him.

The Spirans had been right after all; the fayth would not accept an Al Bhed summoner. Cloud didn't know why this one had suddenly rejected him, but he was going to die here, alone and unmourned, and he had only himself to blame.

[Fic] Naughty Is Nice - Soul Eater, Kid/Liz/Patti

2009-03-30T06:22:39Z

The moment the idea for this came to me, I HAD to write it. The Soul Eater fandom just gives a whole new meaning to the idea of 'weaponkink'. *sweatdrops* I'm sure it's been done before, but eh, I don't care. It's hot. *purrs*

This is sort of a semi-sequel to 'A Different Kind Of Symmetry', but only in that it makes a few oblique references to that story. In no way do you need to have read the first one to understand or enjoy this.

Title: Naughty Is Nice
Series: Soul Eater
Pairing: Kid/Liz/Patti
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: graphic sex, gunkink, incest
Length: 5061

The best birthday presents are the ones you give to yourself.

This is not worksafe!

Kid's home was tucked into a secluded corner of Death City, surrounded by carefully manicured parkland. It was safe and sheltered, and more importantly it was perfectly symmetrical inside and out. Kid always took a moment to just breathe a quiet sigh of appreciation when he entered. It was such a relief to leave the chaotic world behind for the pleasant order of his domain.

The little ritual of relaxation was ingrained, and it was what distracted him for the critical moment that let his attackers get the jump on him.

They hit him from both sides at once, grabbing his arms and pushing him forward so they could get in behind him. He yelped and struggled, but with his arms pinned he couldn't do much to fight.

"Liz! Patti!" he shouted, panicked. The girls should have been home an hour ago; a private meeting with his honoured father had kept Kid at Shibusen late. Had his unknown assailants already hurt them?

The thought made him snarl and fight harder. He gathered his power and prepared to blast them with the raw energy of his soul - cruder than he preferred his attacks to be, but effective. He heard muffled swearing behind him and had just enough time to realize it was a woman - a witch? - before someone clamped a cloth over his mouth and nose.

Something had been poured over the cloth, the odour of it so disgustingly sweet that it made Kid gag. The room spun and lurched around him and he lost control of the energy he'd gathered. It trickled away harmlessly into the air. He would have echoed his attacker's curse, but blackness was rushing up to meet him and all he could do was fall.

Consciousness returned reluctantly, fighting Kid every step of the way. He was vaguely aware that there was something important he should be concerned about, but he couldn't quite remember what it was. His mouth was dry and he had a headache, but he wasn't suffering from the after-effects of the drug nearly as much as a human would be...

The drug! Memory returned abruptly, and Kid barely managed to stifle the reflex to gasp and jerk upright. If he was very, very lucky, the witch who had captured him wouldn't realize the effects had worn off. As long as he didn't betray that he was already coming out of it, he might be able to surprise her into giving him an opportunity to break free.

Cautiously he shifted, trying to mask the movement as the normal restlessness of sleep. His hopes of escape were dashed when he heard a faint rattle of chains and felt something tight binding his wrists in place. He was tied down, hands and feet held spread apart.

{Aha! He's awake!}

"Liz?" he gasped, the voice as familiar to him as his own. He was at the same time upset and relieved - disappointed that she wasn't out there somewhere searching for him, but comforted beyond belief that she hadn't been killed by whoever had taken him. He struggled to open his eyes, feeling like each lid weighed about a hundred pounds. He needed to see for himself that she was there and unhurt, and find out what the situation was.

"Wow, that was fast," Patti commented cheerfully, confirming that she was present as well.

{Well, Stein did say it might not work as well on a shinigami.}

Stein was involved? Kid felt his blood run cold. Since the kishin had been destroyed years ago the doctor had shown no signs of further insanity - or at least, no more than he'd started out with. If he'd lost his mind again and was working with a witch, they were in a great deal of trouble.

At last he managed to focus, and the very first thing he saw was Patti. Unlike him she wasn't tied down, and she knelt a few feet away with Liz held loosely in one hand. Standing guard, he assumed with a feeling of pride and grim satisfaction. Their captors had made their first major error in assuming that incapacitating the meister meant the weapons were helpless as well. Stein must not have been involved in actually containing them; he knew the sisters were perfectly capable of wielding each other.

The second thing Kid noticed was that he was completely naked, and so was she. He flushed and tried to repress an automatic and totally inappropriate response to the sight of her. Childish mannerisms or not, he'd come to appreciate over the last few months that she was very definitely not a little girl. However, this was so not the time or place to be thinking about that.

If nothing else, Stein + knock-out drugs + naked = very bad under any circumstances. Quickly Kid looked them both over for random new scars or lines of obvious stitching, and thankfully found none.

"I take it you can't undo whatever's holding me." He tested the strength of his bonds as he spoke, and was dismayed to find that they were more than enough to hold him. Simple metal handcuffs he possibly could have broken, but his wrists and ankles were encased in metal-reinforced leather padlocked to a sturdy chain. The chain was connected to the posts of a bed...

Wait, this was his bed. And his room, he confirmed as he looked around and saw the familiar symmetrical surroundings. Stein and a witch had taken him captive and locked the three of them into Kid's room? But why?

To his further shock Patti giggled and held up her other hand. A more delicate chain dangled from her fingers, and at the end was a set of tiny keys. About the size that would fit the padlocks holding him in place, in fact. "I could, buuuuuuuut..." She tilted her head and studied him, her eyes making a slow progression from his face to his toes, lingering in the middle. "Nah! Dun wanna!"

{You're way too hot like that for your own good,} Liz agreed, and he recognized the particular purring overtone in her voice. It was the way she sounded when she was about to suggest something naughty she knew he would object to - or when she called his name just as she was about to come.

With an effort Kid wrenched his eyes away from Patti's breasts and his mind off that train of thought. "Wait, you two are the ones who ambushed me?" he demanded, now thoroughly baffled. Patti giggled and nodded, and he caught a glimpse of Liz's smug smile in the barrel of the gun. "Why?"

"Hmmm? Didn't think you'd let us tie you up if we just asked," Patti said, tapping the barrel of the gun against her bottom lip thoughtfully.

"Th-that's not what I meant," Kid sputtered, blushing. "Of course I wouldn't. Why would you want me tied up?"

{Oh, Kid. We have really got to work on getting you past this naive streak,} Liz said with a rueful chuckle.

"But he's cute when he goes all red and squirmy like that!" Patti pouted.

{If he hasn't stopped blushing after three months of sleeping with us, he's not going to,} Liz said. Kid, of course, promptly blushed harder. {See? But he's just so completely clueless, it's sad. There's such a big, interesting world out there he knows nothing about.}

"That's what we're for," Patti said, shrugging and grinning. "Let's play a game!"

Kid groaned. Patti's idea of a 'game' in bed usually ended up with him thoroughly ashamed and embarrassed by his own behaviour. That it also generally resulted in him coming hard enough to see literal stars was - irrelevant. Really.

{Play along, Kid,} Liz said in a mock-stern tone of voice. {This is our birthday present.}

"Happy birthday to us," Patti sang, and giggled.

"But I already have a present for you," he protested. That was what he'd stayed behind at Shibusen to talk to his father about, arranging for a week's vacation for them somewhere warm and relaxing.

{Not your present to us, dummy.}

"Ours to each other!"

{The rules are simple. You get to lie there helplessly, and we get to do whatever we like.}

"If you beg pretty, we might take pity on you," Patti informed him blithely, her innocent expression totally at odds with her mischievous tone. "Squirming's good, too."

"Please let me go," Kid replied promptly, giving them a wry look. Patti giggled.

{Not even close to good enough. Don't worry. I'm sure you'll have enough practice to get better at it by the end of the night.}

"I still don't see wh-why..." Kid stammered and trailed off, his gaze fixed helplessly on Patti's mouth as she ran the tip of the gun's barrel over her full lips. He couldn't have said exactly what it was that caught his attention so thoroughly, but he couldn't have looked away if his life depended on it. When she flicked her tongue out to taste the gleaming metal, a tiny noise escaped him that was shamefully close to a whimper.

"Ooooh, you were right!" Patti squealed, bouncing in a way that made her breasts move enticingly and clapping her hands together. "He does think it's hot!"

{Told you,} Liz said smugly. {He's always staring whenever one of us is using the other.}

"That's... I'm just admiring the fact that you're so competent even without me wielding you," Kid protested. All right, yes, a large part of what he found so attractive about them both was that very autonomy, the fact that they didn't need him the way most weapons needed a meister, but chose to let him wield them because it made all three of them stronger. And yes, he therefore thought it was hot when he saw them together this way. It reminded him of the day they'd met, of the fiercely independent spirit he'd seen in both their eyes.

But they hadn't needed to drug him, strip him and tie him to his bed to prove that!

"Hush," Patti scolded him. "That's not begging."

{Well, we already found the best way to shut him up and distract him.}

Patti giggled, and this time Kid was expecting it when she slid her mouth slowly along the side of the gun. The fact that he knew it was coming didn't make him any more prepared for it, however. When she opened her lips and went down on the barrel with exactly the same expression and motions she used when she went down on him, he groaned and fought to keep from squirming.

"I th-thought... you didn't sleep with e-each other," he gasped, panting for air. When had the room gotten so hot?

He'd seen them hold and support one another when having sex with him, and even nuzzle each other affectionately during and after, but never do anything that could actually be considered incestuous. Granted, Liz was a gun at the moment which somewhat strained the definition, but still. There was no mistaking the sexual intention behind what Patti was doing.

"We're just playing," Patti assured him, her innocent expression now somewhat ruined by her wicked smile. "D'you like?"

"I..." Kid's words got lost somewhere in his throat as she drew the now glistening barrel down over her throat, tracing the delicately flushed skin just over her breasts. She teased them both for a moment, then flicked the muzzle over her pert nipple with a deft twist of her wrist. He forgot what he'd been about to say, totally fixated on the contrast of the shining metal against her rosy skin. Symmetry or not, he thought it might have been the most perfect thing he'd ever seen.

Liz purred. {Honey, if it's gonna get you this hot and bothered, I think we might just have to make an exception or three. Right, Patti?}

"Yep, yep!" Patti giggled and dropped the gun, running the muzzle along his rapidly hardening cock.

"Ah, gods!" Kid closed his eyes and threw his head back, his back arching at the unexpected sensation. He knew from experience that the Twin Pistols never got any colder than Liz and Patti's body temperature would be, but he hadn't expected Liz to feel so scorching against his sensitive skin. At the same time the implicit danger and threat made his mouth go dry again. They were always 'loaded', since they didn't fire bullets in the first place. One slip of Patti's finger could end things very messily.

He tried to convince himself that the pounding of his heart was from nerves and not arousal, but he wasn't doing a very good job.

"Hey! Eyes open," Patti said, and the whine he could clearly hear in her voice warned him that he'd better obey. He found her pouting at him, tapping Liz against her bare thigh impatiently. When she saw that he was watching again, she smiled brightly. "No looking away, that's cheating."

{You'll just have to give him something he can't look away from.}

"Okay!" Patti's eyes lit up at the challenge. She lifted the pistol to tease at her nipples again, then trailed it lower to circle her navel.

Then, to Kid's disbelief and helpless arousal, she slid it lower still, into the blonde curls between her thighs. She moaned and rocked her hips forward, her eyes falling half-closed in a sensuous look he always enjoyed putting on her face.

Instinctively he tried to reach for her, wanting to run his hands over her sweet body and kiss her until she pouted from arousal instead of sulking. He managed to move his arms about an inch before the chains and cuffs stopped him, and he remembered exactly where he was. He growled, frustrated, and Patti giggled at him.

{Ah, this feels weird,} Liz said, and he sensed her mentally squirming.

"Feels good," Patti countered, sliding the gun in a little further. Seeing that he was watching, she grinned and spread her legs until she was almost doing a split, giving him a much better view. She had Liz's barrel shoved firmly into her, holding the pistol upside down the way Kid did so she could push her clit against the trigger guard.

Chains rattled as Kid tried again to reach out, unable to keep still even though he knew it was futile. He was so hard he ached with it, and the need to touch was overwhelming. "Patti..."

"Say 'please'," she coaxed him, watching him from under lowered eyelashes.

"Please," he said, and this time he meant it. He still didn't understand why they'd tied him up in the first place, unless they'd been afraid he would just leave when they started this. They needn't have worried. Like most of the outrageous things they talked him into trying, he was totally unable to do anything but let them sweep him along with them.

"Mmm, nope! Not good enough," she declared, and giggled. She arched her back and lifted her other hand to cup her breast, thumbing her nipple in time with the thrusts of the gun. Kid whined in the back of his throat.

"Please, I want to touch you," Kid begged, straining against the chains. It was driving him mad to see that look on her face and know he'd had no part in putting it there. It threw his sense of balance off, and the need to fix it was nearly as strong as the desire to have his hands on her so he could help push her over the edge and feel the reaction of her body when she came.

"Getting... ah! Closer..." she said, and he wasn't sure if she meant he was closer to winning his freedom or she was closer to coming. Possibly both.

"Patti!" The chains rattled louder as Kid growled and thrashed. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to press Liz even deeper inside her, wanted to slide his hand between her and the gun to rub his fingers against her clit until she was screaming and writhing against him. He wanted her hands or her mouth or her body on him, damn it.

"Oh!" A beautiful flush was spreading over Patti's face and down her chest, her nipples drawing even tighter as she squirmed and rocked against the gun. "Nnn... Kid! Ah!" Her voice rose sharply and she cried out, shuddering. Her eyes closed completely, and she tipped her head back and arched in ecstasy.

Kid was slightly mollified that she called his name when she came, but it wasn't even close to being enough. It was over too fast, her breathing slowing again as she withdrew Liz from inside her. One of Kid's favourite things to do was to keep touching them after they'd come; sometimes they were too sensitive and begged him to stop, but sometimes he could push them into a second orgasm that seemed to be ten times as intense as the first. Knowing he could do that to them, give them that much pleasure, was a powerful feeling.

Right now he was experiencing the opposite, knowing he'd had nothing to do with the look of smug satisfaction on her face. He struggled again, but they knew his strength too well. He couldn't budge the chains.

{Aw, poor Kid. He looks frustrated,} Liz teased, making Patti giggle.

"He's all worked up," Patti said, moving closer so she could run her hand lightly over his rock-hard erection. He cried out and thrust up against her hand, but she drew away after just a few maddening moments.

{He doesn't like being left out,} Liz said.

"Hee. We can fix that."

Kid tensed as she trailed the muzzle of the gun over his cheek, then pressed it against his lips. Unthinking, he obediently opened his mouth so she could slide the barrel inside. Liz tasted of a combination of gunmetal and Patti, and it made Kid groan.

Then suddenly instead of hard metal in his mouth he had a soft tongue, and Liz was leaning over him as a human, kissing him. She still tasted like Patti, and it drove him wild. He automatically tried to wrap his arms around her, and moaned again when the restraints stopped him.

"Heh. This is really driving you nuts, isn't it?" Liz observed, her eyes gleaming. "You just can't stand not being in control."

"I want to touch you," he rasped, trying to glare up at her. He had a feeling he mostly just looked desperate. "You didn't have to tie me up to get me to agree to this."

"It's not because we thought you wouldn't agree," she said, amused.

{It's 'cause it's hot to watch you squirm!}

Until he heard Patti's voice echo in his mind instead of his ears, Kid hadn't realized they'd switched places rather than Liz simply transforming. Liz tapped Patti's barrel against his collarbone with a particularly evil smirk. "Enjoying yourself?" Liz asked.

Common sense told Kid to say 'no'. It was too dangerous, and far too perverted. They'd coaxed and teased him into doing some very questionable things, even some that made this look tame, but that didn't make this any less wrong. At the same time he couldn't shake the image of Patti's face as she'd come with the gun deep inside her, and desire made him want to say 'yes'. Caught between two equal and conflicting responses, Kid could only whimper.

Then he gasped as Liz slid the pistol down over his chest and circled his nipple with the tip. "That sounded more like a 'yes' than a 'no' to me," she purred.

{Do it, do it, do it!} Patti cheered.

Liz leaned down and fastened her mouth to his other nipple, biting and sucking almost hard enough to hurt. Almost, but not quite. Kid cried out and rocked up against her. She was kneeling between his spread legs and if he arched his back he could just rub his aching cock against the soft flesh of her breasts.

"Definitely a 'yes'." Liz gave him her version of Patti's wicked smile, and sat up again. Kid started to cry out in protest, but froze when she brought the gun down to rub the muzzle along the side of his cock.

He stayed as still as he could, hardly daring to breathe. He couldn't stop himself from shivering, fine tremors running through his whole body. His cock jumped and twitched as she continued to tease him. When she went further down to toy with his balls he let out an explosive breath and closed his eyes, shuddering. The warm metal against his even hotter skin felt solid and dangerous, and a little thrill went through him with every tiny motion.

"Oi, Kid. Breathe," Liz reminded him, sounding amused. He tried, he really did, but the air kept catching in his throat every time she nudged him with Patti.

{Haha, you're gonna kill him.}

"Seem like fair payback for the way he always pushes us past our limits," Liz said, but she took pity on him and pulled back slightly. Kid's body finally remembered just how breathing was accomplished and he gasped for much-needed air to keep from passing out for the second time that night.

Looking at them kneeling there, he was reminded all over again why he'd fallen so hard for them. Liz was gorgeous, her long blonde hair falling to tease at her bare breasts and her blue eyes filled with amusement, desire, and love. In her hand the sleek lines and shining metal of Patti as a pistol represented their intense independence and loyalty - to each other, and to him once he'd won a place in their hearts.

Yet again he tried to reach out and was stopped by the restraints. "Damn it! Let me out of here."

"That was so far from begging, it might have set you back a bit," Liz told him, smirking.

{Bad Kid, no biscuit!}

"We're not done with you yet."

"Liz..." His growl turned into another gasp as she dropped the pistol again, sliding the barrel below his balls and rubbing the tip against his hole. His eyes went very wide. She couldn't mean to... she wouldn't really...

She could and she would and she did. Kid choked on a cry as she eased the gun inside him, forcing the wide barrel past the tight ring of muscle. It hurt a little, but he couldn't stop himself from squirming. His brain broke trying to contemplate all the many and varied ways in which this was so wrong, while his body wallowed in the thrill and pleasure of it. The little ridge of the sight scraped against something inside him that made him see stars, and he shouted and arched his back in startled reaction.

{Oooh, he likes it. Is that one for me, or you?}

Liz laughed. "I don't think we're keeping track any more. Fuck, he looks hot like this. Too bad you can't see it."

Patti's reply was decidedly smug. {He was hot watching me with you, too. Only fair.}

Kid wanted to say something, anything - joining the conversation would have given him something to focus on other than the mind-blowing sensations they were evoking from his body. As it was he could only whimper and writhe, his cock weeping with need and unable to get even the slightest friction.

"Please," he whispered, his voice cracking with need. "Liz, gods, please. I need you, I need... ah, gods. Please!" He shuddered as she started thrusting with the gun, running the sight over that sensitive place inside him every time. If there was still pain he was totally oblivious to it, focused whole-heartedly on the pleasure.

{Mmmm, now he's playing along.}

"I suppose that deserves a reward." Liz smiled at him, her eyes dancing with mischief, and if he hadn't been so completely mindless he might have felt nervous. "Besides, damn it, I want some!"

She shifted forward until she was straddling his hips, and lowered herself carefully onto him. He groaned as the tight, wet heat enveloped him, then shouted when she twisted the gun inside him. She was forced to lean back at a strange angle to keep one hand on Patti, but she managed.

Liz wasn't often the one on top - Patti was the one who liked to ride him, while Liz preferred to be pounded into. It took her a couple of awkward tries to find her rhythm, and Kid couldn't help her by bracing her waist with his hands. When she did finally settle into a rocking motion it was thankfully hard and fast. Kid didn't think he could take much more teasing.

"Yesss," he hissed, thrusting up into her as much as he could. "Yes, like that, Liz, fuck."

{Hee, I love it when he talks dirty.}

"Oh yeah," Liz agreed, her voice breathy and rough with need. She squirmed, which did very interesting things to her body around Kid's cock, and he cried out. "C'mon, Kid, don't stop there. Talk to me, darling."

He growled. "When I get out of these chains I am going to pin you to the fucking bed and make you come so many times you're begging me. And then I'm going to do the same to Patti."

{Oooh, super stamina?}

"He didn't say he was going to fuck us, just make us come."

It was his turn to smirk, though it was hard to hold the expression as she rocked against him a little harder. "Maybe I'll just keep tormenting you until I've recovered, and that's how I'll know when to take pity on you."

{Oh, fuck yeah.}

"I'll - ah! - second that." Liz was shivering above him and her movements were growing jerky, and he knew she was getting close. It was all he could do to hold his own orgasm off, but he wanted her to come first since he couldn't use his hands to finish her. As frustrated as he was with both of them at the moment, he still didn't want to leave her hanging.

She cried out and shuddered, her inner muscles squeezing down around him. At the same time she twisted the gun again, ramming the sight hard into the sensitive place inside him. That was it for Kid; his fragile hold on his control snapped. Once again he proved that their most insane ideas were the ones that made him come the hardest, but he was too busy seeing stars to feel ashamed of himself.

The feeling of aching emptiness as Liz withdrew Patti brought him back to earth. He blinked at her and squirmed, making a sound of discomfort, and she smiled wearily at him. "Now you know how we feel when you're not in us anymore." She shifted and slid off him, ending up curled on one side against his chest, her head on his shoulder and arm flung across his chest with Patti still in her hand.

A moment later Patti was human again, snuggled against him on his other side and smiling at them both. "That was fun," she declared brightly. "Let's do it again!"

Kid groaned. "You have to let me go from this time, first," he pointed out. As much as he always enjoyed the perfect symmetry of having one of his girls on either side of him, he'd appreciate it a great deal more if he could participate.

"Hmm, I dunno. Do we actually want to let him out?" Liz asked her sister, raising an eyebrow. "He did make that threat..."

"Isn't that a good reason to let him go?" Patti asked, blinking. She squirmed against him, and he could feel the wetness between her thighs when she pressed against his hip. "Listening to you guys was hot!"

"Only if he starts with you, then," Liz said.

Chains rattled and this time the bed frame groaned as Kid yanked viciously at his restraints. "If I don't get to touch you in the next thirty seconds, there's going to be hell to pay," he warned between gritted teeth.

"So impatient!" Patti teased him. She licked at his nipple, which made him moan. "We are touching you!"

"I think we'd better take him seriously," Liz laughed. Patti sighed dramatically, but produced the chain with the keys again. In moments they had him free, and he wrapped his arms around them both and pulled them close. He kissed them thoroughly, one after the other, and they sighed and melted against him.

"Next time, don't drug me," he said when they'd settled down again. He knew better than to think there wouldn't be a 'next time'. They'd obviously enjoyed themselves, and he'd learned the hard way that they would repeat the experience if they'd liked it that much. "And don't scare me like that, either! I thought maybe you'd both been hurt by whoever was grabbing me."

"Awww, sorry!" Patti said, and kissed him lightly again.

"We didn't think of that," Liz said with a touch of guilt.

"Next time we kidnap you, we'll let you see it's us first," Patti declared cheerfully.

Liz nodded and yawned, cuddling a little closer. "Best birthday present ever, though." Patti giggled and made a noise of agreement.

"Oh, we're not done yet," Kid said, and this time he was the one with the wicked purr. "Did you think I was making an empty threat?"

Liz was satisfied and in danger of falling asleep, so she was the one he grabbed and rolled over. They ended up with him pinning her to the bed, just as he'd promised. She squealed with surprise and wriggled beneath him, which only made him smile wider before shifting so he could hold both her wrists in one hand. That left his other hand free to slide down over her body, teasing every inch of skin he passed.

"Hehehe. Somebody's in trouble," Patti sang.

"You're next," Kid assured her, pinching Liz's nipple to make her moan.

"Okay!" Patti agreed, grinning fit to kill. "Want some help?"

Kid paused, raising an eyebrow at her, then grinned as well. "Why not." If seeing them use each other as a gun to touch themselves had been hot, watching them actually touch each other would be hotter still. He certainly wasn't going to complain.

"Ah, Kid! Don't... Patti! Nnngh... Kid!"

[Fic] Two Wrongs Make A Right - Soul Eater, Kid-Liz-Patti gen

2009-03-12T01:09:22Z

Aaaand this is the fic I'd actually intended to post today. It's the one responsible for making me finish Foresight all in one sitting... I'd promised myself I wouldn't write any more Soul Eater until it was finished, and this story wouldn't leave me alone. ;p

This is a semi-prequel to 'A Diffirent Kind Of Symmetry', but only in that it was something I wrote in Symmetry that gave me the idea for this one. You absolutely don't need to read one in order to appreciate the other.

Title: Two Wrongs Make A Right
Series: Soul Eater
Pairing: Kid-Liz-Patti gen
Rating: PG
Warnings: A touch of angst, lots of sap.
Length: 8498

Sometimes you have to do the wrong thing to get the right result.

Years ago, the midway had rung with the sounds of circus music and children's laughter. The wind blowing through it had carried scents of hot popcorn and cotton candy, and it had been crowded with people.

Now the only sounds were the echo of gunfire and the laughter of a monster, and it smelled of rot and blood. At least the lack of people meant there wasn't anyone for Death the Kid to dodge as he soared along on his skateboard, chasing the pre-kishin they'd come to kill.

Finding it had been easy enough. Actually hitting it was another matter. It skittered along ahead of them, moving far faster than anything that had once been human had a right to. Worse, it was taunting him, the bastard. It laughed every time it dodged his shots, occasionally turning and smirking back over its shoulder at him. Kid growled and fired again, but it was useless.

{We need to pin it down,} Liz said, sounding just as frustrated as Kid felt. {We're never going to get anywhere at this rate.}

{I'm getting tired of being 'it',} Patty agreed, and Kid could see her pout in the reflection off the barrel of her gun.

"If you have any suggestions on how to accomplish that, I'm willing to entertain them," Kid said, then cursed as the pre-kishin turned a corner abruptly and vanished.

They flew around the same corner a moment later and nearly smashed straight into a solid wooden wall. Kid yelped and reflexively kicked down on the back of his skateboard, grabbing at the front as it rose to pull it higher still. He did a complete flip in the air, passing close enough to the wall that he felt the rough wood catch at his clothes. He landed on his feet with the board tucked under his arm.

{Whee, that was fun! Do it again!} Patti cheered.

"No time," Kid replied grimly. "It's getting further ahead with every moment that goes by." He dismissed the board and stepped forward, opening the door cautiously lest the killer be waiting in ambush. Nothing attacked as he walked inside, but Kid didn't let his guard down for a moment.

He hadn't taken two paces inside when he realized what the building had been. The sign outside had long since rotted away, but the array of mirrors before him could belong to only one place in the circus.

{Yay, the fun house!}

{Maybe we'll get lucky and it'll get lost in the maze.}

"Let's hope, Kid agreed. Taking a deep breath, he double-checked his hold on the twin pistols, then walked into the maze.

Immediately he was confronted by several versions of his own reflection. Many of the mirrors had shattered or turned dark with age, but there were more than enough left in one piece. Some were curved or warped, skewing his reflection and distorting the symmetry. Kid paused in front of one that magnified his head out of all proportion to his body. The asymmetry created by the damned white stripes in his hair was even more blatant than usual in that image. He shuddered, feeling vaguely nauseated.

{Forget about your reflection. Just worry about the pre-kishin,} Liz reminded him sharply.

"I haven't forgotten," Kid replied loftily, though in truth he had been distracted for a moment. He berated himself silently as he proceeded. It was unacceptable for him to let his wits wander on the job. The fact that it happened so often only made the transgression all the worse. He was Shinigami's son, and was supposed to be setting an example for others.

He caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Kid spun and fired at the same time, strafing the whole area. Glass shattered and flew everywhere, and he was forced to duck to avoid being cut.

{Kid! What are you doing?} Liz said, sounding panicked. {Don't you know it's seven years of bad luck if you break a mirror? You just broke, like, five of them!}

The monster laughed again, a high-pitched cackle that set Kid's teeth on edge. Kid caught another glimpse of it scurrying away, but this time the image was warped so he knew it was only a reflection.

Smirking, Kid headed for that mirror at a trot. The pre-kishin had made a tactical error in its choice of hiding place. Mirrors were integral to many of Kid's powers as a shinigami, and he understood how they worked better than most people understood why the sun rose and set.

If he'd seen the reflection of the monster while standing over there, then he'd been at a thirty-two degree angle to the mirror. The pre-kishin would therefore have to have been precisely thirty-two degrees on the opposite side of the mirror. Kid looked that way, and found himself facing another mirror. Very well, that mirror was twenty-seven degrees angled from this one, so...

He followed the trail of mirrors rapidly. Every so often he would catch another glimpse of the monster, and start his calculations anew. As he drew closer the glimpses became more frequent, until Kid could see multiple images of it at all times.

When the reflections he saw were arranged just so, Kid lifted Patti and Liz and opened fire. Once again the mirrors were blown to pieces, but this time instead of laughing the pre-kishin screeched in pain. Kid had shot it right through the mirrors.

{Nice,} Liz said in reluctant admiration, and Kid allowed himself to preen a bit.

{That's our Kid,} Patti agreed, snickering. {Go get 'em!}

He fired again, but without the mirrors to hide the shot the monster saw it coming and dodged. It turned another corner, but Kid didn't need to trace the reflections to follow it this time. There was a trail of dark blood splattered all over the floor, marking the killer's path clearly.

{Oh, crap, there's the exit,} Liz exclaimed as Kid ran around another twist and a red sign came into view. Kid quickly calculated the real position of the doorway and opened fire, and was rewarded with another squeal from the pre-kishin.

Kid ducked through the frames of the mirrors he'd just shattered, careful not to slice himself open on the jagged shards that remained. Being able to take the direct path was much faster, and he smiled fiercely as he saw the pre-kishin limp into another room down a short hall. Its injuries were slowing it down. Now it was only a matter of time.

{Quick, quick,} Patti said, and Kid could sense her doing the mental equivalent of bouncing up and down. {After it, before it gets away!}

Kid plunged into the next room hot on the heels of the monster, and promptly tripped. He staggered, flailing wildly to catch his balance, and cursed as the monster made it out of the room through the next door. Warily Kid checked the floor, expecting to find it littered with traps of some kind, but he was baffled to discover it was perfectly smooth.

Well, never mind. He looked up and started to move forward, and nearly tripped again. It took his horrified brain a moment to acknowledge what he was seeing. The whole room was skewed. The walls and ceiling were angled and painted to look as if the room was built on a ramp. Worse, the table, the chairs, even things like the fake fruit in a bowl were all out of proportion in such a way that they fostered the optical illusion. He'd tripped because he'd automatically tried to compensate for an incline that wasn't there.

But the room! Kid felt nausea and panic rising as he took one shaky step forward, and then another. It was wrong, the whole room and everything in it was just wrong. How could anyone deliberately create such a terrible place? And to call it 'fun'! It was disgusting and perverted.

{Uh-oh,} Patti said, subdued.

{Here we go again,} Liz sighed. {Hang in there, Kid. Look, it's such a tiny room. Just a few more steps and you'll be out, and you'll never have to see it again.}

{See? Almost halfway,} Patti chirped helpfully.

Kid glanced back to assess his progress, and that was even worse. The optical illusion didn't work when he wasn't looking at the objects from the right perspective. Instead of seeming to rest on a decline, the things nearest him simply looked warped.

Bile rose in his throat to choke him, and he nearly lost his lunch. Coughing, Kid staggered. That just made him trip again, his hindbrain still trying to compensate for an angle that wasn't there.

He hit his knees hard and stayed there, gasping. "It's horrid," he moaned, clutching at his head. If only he could drag the image from his brain by sheer force of will. "It's awful, I can't bear it... that a place like this should exist in the world..." He shuddered. "Such a world isn't worth living in!"

Distantly he heard Liz and Patti talking to him, the tone of their voices alternately coaxing and exasperated. The words couldn't penetrate the haze of despair that enveloped him. He'd dropped them both when he went down, and they lay forgotten before him on the floor. Hands over his eyes, he rocked back and forth and tried to purge the terrible image from his mind.

{Kid! Kid, look out! Patti, NO!}

Something warm sprayed across his hands and face, jolting him back to awareness of his surroundings. The distinctive coppery scent of blood filled the air, and a limp body tumbled into his lap a moment later. Kid caught it reflexively, and to his shock realized it was Patti. Her shirt was torn and a long, deep gash across her chest and stomach was bleeding freely.

{Behind you!} Liz shrieked.

Kid didn't take the precious seconds required to look up. He grabbed Patti and rolled before Liz even got the second word out, and that was the only thing that saved them both. A huge, razor-sharp piece of glass cut through the air right where they had been, and broke further when it impacted the floor.

There was still more than enough left to make a deadly weapon for the pre-kishin, however. It laughed and slashed at him repeatedly, and it was all Kid could do to keep himself and Patti out of its reach.

Every time he dodged, Patti whimpered faintly and turned a little paler, and a fresh spurt of blood would run over Kid's hands. He had to do something to stop the bleeding, quickly - but first he had to get the pre-kishin to stop attacking him for a moment. Kid scanned the room frantically, looking for something to distract the killer with, but it was impossible for him to focus on anything except how warped the room was.

{Kid! Over here,} Liz cried from where she still lay abandoned on the floor. {Just shoot it! It can't dodge, it's too injured.}

"Shoot it? With just you?" The thought made Kid grimace in revulsion. "I can't use just one of you. You know that! It's not..."

Liz cut him off with a scream, reverting to her human form and snatching up the nearest object, which happened to be a chair. She smashed the pre-kishin over the head with it. The rotten wood broke on impact, but it was enough to stagger the monster for a critical moment.

"Take care of Patti," Kid ordered, setting her down gently and lunging at the pre-kishin. He was at a disadvantage without his weapons, but unlike most meisters he was far from helpless when unarmed.

Fear for Patti and rage that the monster had dared to hurt her gave Kid even greater strength than usual. Two swift strikes left the pre-kishin sprawled helpless on the floor, and a third finished it off. The reddish glow of the killer's soul gave a hellish look to the room, but Kid ignored it for the moment.

"Patti?" he asked anxiously, turning back to the sisters now that the pre-kishin was taken care of.

The first flung object caught him by surprise. The chunk of wood struck him full across the face. If it hadn't been so rotten, it might have broken his nose. Shocked, Kid ducked, and the second piece missed him by inches. "Liz!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

She was standing over her sister, her fists clenched and tears streaking her face, glaring at him. "How could you?" she demanded, choking on a sob. "How could you? Patti is bleeding in your arms, and you won't use me to deal with the threat because it wouldn't be symmetrical? Do we mean that much less to you than your precious symmetry?"

"What?" Kid stared at her, not understanding what she was saying. "No, of course n-"

"We've never said a word about you barging in to organize our rooms as well as yours," she overrode him, her voice rising hysterically. "We never once complained about you making us late for class every day so you can check every inch of the house, or losing a pre-kishin while you admired the scenery, or even the times you've abandoned us to go haring off back to Death City to check on some stupid detail you might have forgotten about. But this time you've gone too far! You risked Patti's life!"

"No, it's not like that," Kid protested, taking a step back and raising his hands as if that would protect him from her rant. "You don't understand. Liz, of course you and Patti are important to me. But I'm Shinigami's son, I have to set an example. I have to do things right."

"Death the Kid, if my sister dies because of your stupid obsession with symmetry, I will never forgive you!" Liz shrieked. She turned away from him, and her shoulders shook with the sobs he could faintly hear as she knelt next to Patti. Gently she scooped her sister up and cradled the unconscious girl against her chest.

Dazed, Kid stood rooted to the spot, staring at her. "D-dies?" he stammered, floored. "But... but she can't..." Patti couldn't die. That was just... not allowed. That was even more wrong than the existence of this room. It couldn't happen, that was all there was to it.

Yet there she was, pale and limp in Liz's arms, blood already soaking through the makeshift bandage Liz had constructed from their white jackets. Her soul was flickering weakly, like a candle on the verge of going out. Her blood covered Kid's hands and jacket, sticky and undeniable.

Belatedly he realized that Liz was struggling. Patti was small for her age, but she was heavier than she looked. "Let me," Kid started, moving forward to take her from Liz.

She levelled a vicious glare at him, and he froze with his hands outstretched before him. "Don't. Touch. Her," she hissed, more furious than Kid could remember ever seeing her before. "Just get us back to Death City. After she's been treated and is healing, I'll think about talking to you again."

There was nothing Kid could do but agree with her. He nodded, and bit his lip as she turned and stalked out of the room. He followed her, trying to figure out how he could possibly make her understand why he'd had to do what he did. His life would be so much easier if other people would just acknowledge how vitally important symmetry was to the correct way of doing things.

Except, looking at Patti now, Kid didn't feel nearly as smugly righteous as usual.

Liz obviously hadn't forgiven him by the time they reached Death City; she snarled and chased him right out of the examining room the moment Patti was handed over to a doctor's care. Kid spent a very long night lying in his bed staring up at the perfectly symmetrical tiles of his ceiling, unable to sleep. His mind refused to accept the idea that Patti could die, that he might lose both his partners because of this one mission. His heart, however, felt the terror of the possibility all too keenly.

To his extreme relief when he checked in the mirror the next morning he saw Patti awake and smiling at Liz, who was sitting by her bedside holding her hand. Patti still looked extremely pale and wan, but it was a vast improvement over the way she'd looked when he'd last seen her.

Determined to make it up to the sisters and show them that they were important to him, Kid spent the whole morning scouring the stock of every florist in Death City, searching for the components of the perfect get-well-soon bouquet. It ended up being much smaller than he'd hoped for, but there was a distressing lack of perfectly symmetrical flowers in the city. He certainly couldn't give her something that was flawed. What kind of message would that send?

It felt like his heart was pounding in his throat as he approached the room Patti had been given in the infirmary. He had to remind himself repeatedly not to clutch at the flowers or wring the stems, lest he damage or twist them. The door was open, and Kid could hear the sisters talking softly as he came close.

"...n't be mad, Liz," Patti said, sounding unusually weak and subdued. "Kid can't help it."

Startled to hear his own name, Kid paused with his hand raised to knock on the door. He hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but they continued talking before he could decide whether to enter or come back later when they weren't discussing him.

"I know, I know. I shouldn't have said that to him. I just... argh! He makes me so mad sometimes."

"Hehehe-OW."

"Don't giggle like that, then."

"But your face was funny!"

"I swear he's getting worse, Patti." Liz sounded like she was on the verge of tears again. Kid couldn't have moved now if his life had depended on it. Worse? What did she mean, worse?

"A year ago if one of us had been hurt like that, I'm pretty sure it would have been enough to jerk him out of his little perfectionist world," she continued. "But it was like he couldn't even conceive of the idea of doing something that wasn't 'right'."

"Mm."

"And I don't think something as mild as that funhouse room would have debilitated him like that when we first met him. How long until seeing anything unsymmetrical incapacitates him? How long until he refuses to even leave the house?"

"Mm."

"He doesn't even respond to us trying to coax him out of it half the time anymore. I don't know what to do, Patti. What if... what if he starts to think we're flawed because we can't live up to his perfect standards?" Her voice dropped to a whisper that Kid had to strain to hear. "What if he doesn't want us anymore?"

"No! Never," Patti cried. "Kid wouldn't leave us!" She paused, then added in a tiny voice, "Would he?"

Kid wanted to charge into the room and assure her that he would never do any such thing, but it felt like he was literally frozen in place. His whole body was ice cold, and he didn't think he could have spoken if his life depended on it.

"I don't know any more, Patti. I just don't know." Liz sighed miserably. "If he keeps getting worse at this rate, it may not matter. Eventually one or more of us is going to get killed when he has one of his fits."

"Mm."

"Oh, geez, listen to me go on when you're tired and hurting." There was a rustle of fabric and the scrape of a chair across the floor. "Look, you just worry about getting better, and let me worry about Kid for now. We'll figure something out. I'm going to see if I can find some water or something for us to drink."

Realizing she was heading for the door, Kid's brain shut down and he panicked. He couldn't let her find him listening to their private conversation. He bolted for the exit, practically flying as he raced down the hall. Only when he was outside the building did he notice that his hands were empty. At some point he'd dropped the perfect flowers he'd worked so hard to find. The gods alone knew what Liz would think when she saw them.

Kid walked home in a daze, hardly knowing what to think about what he'd overheard. He wasn't getting 'worse', he was getting better - better at doing things right, better at coming close to the perfection he needed to live up to his honoured father's name.

Wasn't he?

Other people just didn't understand. His honoured father did, Kid was certain. Just look at the perfect symmetry of Shibusen itself. Didn't that mean Kid was in the right, just as he'd always believed - no, just as he'd always known?

And yet, he couldn't argue with the fact that Patti had nearly died because he had been so distracted by the horrifying wrongness of that twisted room. Perhaps - just perhaps - Kid needed to learn to be more tolerant of imperfection. Clearly, other people were never going to understand the incredible importance of symmetry. The world would continue to be full of places and objects that Kid found repellently wrong, and there was nothing he could do about it. Acknowledging the foulness of the situation was one thing, but allowing it to distract him to the point that it affected his performance was hardly approaching perfection on his part.

What about asymmetry in his own actions, though? The idea of fighting with just one of the sisters in hand was so completely wrong, on such a deep level that Kid couldn't begin to articulate the reasons behind it. He'd been able to take care of the pre-kishin without needing to use Liz by herself - but what if he hadn't? What if the extra seconds it had taken him had been long enough for Patti to bleed out?

Was Liz right that symmetry was more important to him than their lives?

"NO," Kid exclaimed, shaking his head hard. That was one statement he could make with absolute certainty. Order and symmetry were vital, even necessary, for the world to function - but he couldn't function without his partners.

Looking up, Kid realized he was standing in the main hall of his own house with no idea how he'd gotten there. The beautiful symmetry of the architecture, decorations, and furnishings soothed his agitated mind, but for once it wasn't enough to calm him completely. It only served as a reminder of Liz's harsh words about his 'obsessions'.

Clearly, he needed to do something to correct his imperfections. If that paradoxically meant that he needed to allow himself to occasionally exhibit flawed behaviour - well, for Liz and Patti he would manage it somehow. What he needed to do now was to raise his tolerance for such things.

Taking a deep breath, Kid squared his shoulders and strode forward into the living room where he and the sisters spent most of their time. It was just as perfectly arranged as the rest of the house, of course, but his first impulse on entering was to double-check and measure to make certain that everything was still exactly as it should be. The candles had a stubborn tendency not to melt in perfect symmetry unless he sculpted them, and there was always the possibility that one of the pictures had shifted a millimetre or two and was no longer hanging perfectly straight.

Instead of going over everything carefully, however, Kid forced himself to march right up to the largest of the decorations, a lovely abstract black and white painting that his father had given him for his last birthday. Without allowing himself to think too hard about what he was doing, Kid reached out and shoved at one corner of the frame, tipping the picture noticeably to one side.

Horror struck him an instant later. Wrong, it was wrong, there was something wrong in his house. It had to be fixed. NOW. Before, gods forbid, anyone saw it and realized what a disgusting, depraved person he had to be. In a total panic Kid righted the picture, then pulled out his measuring tape to make certain it was level.

He paused with the tape halfway to the picture, breathing hard and staring at the frame in shock. Had he really just done that? He'd intended to walk away and leave the tilted picture, forcing himself to ignore it. But he literally hadn't been able to stop himself from fixing it.

Swallowing hard, he shoved the measuring tape back into his pocket. With a shaking hand he reached out to the picture frame once again, and rested his fingers against it. He willed himself to push it, but the memory of the sickening feeling of something wrong ate at him and kept his hand from moving. At the same time the need to measure it and check that it was hanging straight was growing rapidly, tearing away at his good intentions. He'd moved it; even that was more than he'd ever done before. Surely that was enough for one day? He could check it now, and tomorrow come back and do it again. That would be all right, wouldn't it?

But he knew it wouldn't be any easier tomorrow. In fact, the only thing that would be easier was justifying to himself why he didn't have to do it. Screwing his eyes shut so he wouldn't have to see it, Kid pushed at the frame and immediately stepped back out of reach.

Even with his eyes closed, he knew it was wrong. He could feel it in his gut, a twisting sense of nausea that threatened to make him lose his breakfast. It was wrong, he had to fix it. He had to. How could he allow such a thing to exist in his own house? Only a completely despicable person would be able to tolerate such disorder!

Whimpering, Kid clutched at his head and forced himself to stay where he was. "You can do this," he muttered to himself, his voice cracking and wavering. "You can do this, you can. You have to. For Liz and Patti."

"How could you?"

"This time you've gone too far!"

"Death the Kid, if my sister dies because of your stupid obsession with symmetry, I will never forgive you!"

The echo of Liz's voice gave him the strength he needed to turn his back on the painting. The memory of Patti's body lying broken and bleeding in his arms was enough to let him walk slowly out of the room. Only when he'd turned a corner and knew he wouldn't be able to see the painting did he open his eyes again, and even so he kept his gaze fixed firmly forward.

He'd successfully left it so the picture was wrong. Now Kid needed to find something to distract himself with, so he wouldn't have to keep thinking about the fact that the picture was wrong. There was nobody here but him, nobody to see, so it didn't matter that the picture was wrong. When Liz came back, she would have to understand how much she and Patti meant to him, because the picture was wrong. All he had to do was leave it until then and they would both forgive him, and it wouldn't matter that the picture was wrong...

With an anguished cry Kid turned on his heel and sprinted back into the room. He lunged for the picture, choking on bile as he frantically scrabbled at the frame. For a horrible moment his fingers slipped and it refused to budge, and he had a terrifying thought that maybe it was stuck that way. Forever.

Then he managed to get a firm grip on it and it moved easily back into place. Sobbing with relief, Kid leaned his head against the cool glass and just let himself shake. It was okay, everything was alright again. It was all right again.

After a long moment he looked up and stared at his reflection in the glass. It was hardly the best mirror he'd ever used, but he could tell he was pale and his pupils were far too large. He looked like he was on drugs, or in shock.

He'd gotten as far as the bottom of the stairs, he told himself grimly. Next time, he would get at least as far as the second floor. Then he would get as far as his bedroom. He would do it over and over again, as many times as necessary, until he could actually leave it that way for a significant length of time and not think about it.

It was the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life, but Death the Kid reached out and pushed the picture out of alignment once more.

Liz couldn't remember ever feeling so drained and exhausted. She'd spent the whole night sitting by Patti's bedside, fretting over her unconscious sister and feeling alternately guilty and exasperated about Kid. In the small hours of the morning she'd cried herself hoarse, terrified that she was going to lose both of the most important people in her life.

With the first rays of dawn hope had returned, when Patti opened her eyes and groggily asked why Liz was crying. The doctors were optimistic that she would make a full recovery. Patti was going to be fine, and Liz wouldn't have to find out what it would be like to live without her sister.

As for Kid... Liz glanced down at the slightly squashed and wilted bunch of flowers in her hand, and shook her head. She still had no idea what to do about Kid, but she did know what the first step towards a solution had to be. An apology for her harsh words the day before.

"Kid?" she called as she entered the house. "I'm home."

There was no clear response, but straining her ears, she thought she heard the sound of someone talking in the living room. It had to be Kid; none of their friends ever came here after the first visit, because of the way Kid hovered over people to ensure that they didn't move anything even a fraction of a centimetre out of place.

Poking her head into the room, Liz found him standing in front of the biggest picture, his hands clenched on the mantle below it. His head was down and he was muttering to himself. "Walk away. Just walk away. Just turn around, and walk away!"

"What are you doing?" she asked, completely baffled. This was weird behaviour even for him.

He jumped and whirled as if she'd startled him. She was shocked to see that he was in a state of complete disarray. His hair was mussed as if he'd been clenching his hands in it, white-striped and all-black spikes going every which way instead of lying in the symmetrical style he preferred. His eyes were wide and his expression was wild, and he was breathing hard. He looked like he was ready to fly right out of his skin from sheer nerves.

He said nothing for a long moment, just stood there staring at her like a deer in headlights, so finally she broke the silence. "Listen, Kid. About what I said yester..."

"NO," he blurted out, waving his hands frantically. His voice was about an octave higher than usual, and cracked as if he was under a tremendous amount of strain. "No, don't look, you can't look, it's horrible, you can't see it nobody can see..."

Without any warning his golden eyes rolled up into his head, and he collapsed.

"Kid!" Liz dove forward and barely managed to catch him before he bashed his brains out on the edge of the mantle. They went down in a heap, with Kid sprawled over her lap and in her arms. He was out cold, she realized in astonishment. His eyes flickered beneath the lids and he was twitching faintly, but he showed no signs of waking.

"What on earth?" Stunned, Liz felt his forehead to see if he was feverish. His skin was clammy and pale, and she could see he'd been sweating hard. That was all they needed, Kid ending up in the hospital right next to Patti. But he'd been fine last night when they'd returned to Death City, and he wasn't overheated now.

Baffled, she glanced around the room to see what could have caused such a reaction. Her eyes quickly settled on the picture he'd been standing in front of. It was tilted, visibly hanging off centre even to her eyes. To Kid, who could instantly tell if something had been moved out of place by even a millimetre, it must have looked absolutely horrible. She had no idea what could have caused the picture to shift like that, but she knew she didn't need to look any further for the cause of Kid's hysteria.

"Honestly," she muttered, getting angry at him all over again. "It's just a stupid picture, not the end of the world!" It was exactly what she'd been afraid of, that he would continue to get worse until even small things could incapacitate him completely.

"I suppose I'd better fix it if I want him coherent when he wakes up," she decided, sighing in irritation. She wasn't terribly gentle when she dumped him off her lap onto the floor. Standing, she reached for the picture frame to straighten it. Without a measuring tape she wouldn't be able to make it perfect, but hopefully it would be enough that he wouldn't just collapse again the moment he opened his eyes.

"Leave it."

It was Liz's turn to jump. She looked over her shoulder, wondering if she was hearing things. Kid had propped himself up on one hand and was looking up at her through one eye. The other was covered by his hand, which was clutching at his hair as if he was trying to keep himself from flying to pieces. He was shaking and his voice was hardly more than a croak, but his expression was grimly determined.

"Excuse me?" she said, certain she'd misunderstood. Death the Kid would never stop someone from making something symmetrical. It was like asking the sun to rise in the west.

"Leave it where it is," he repeated. "Don't touch it."

"But... but..." Liz stammered, completely floored. "Don't tell me you moved it like this!" That was even more incomprehensible than the idea of him not allowing her to fix it.

"You and Patti are more important to me than symmetry," he said. He closed his eyes, and hunched in on himself. "I can't let either of you be hurt because of me again. I have to learn to tolerate it. No matter how wrong it is."

"Kid..." Liz trailed off, having no idea what to say. She felt horribly guilty for the uncharitable thoughts she'd just been having about him. She knew better than anyone but Patti how hard it would have been for him to do something like this.

Impulsively she knelt beside him and pulled him into a tight hug. He made a startled noise and went rigid, but didn't fight her hold. After a moment she felt his arms tentatively wind around her in return, and he rested his head on her shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered into his hair. "And I'm sorry for what I said yesterday. I was just so scared."

"You weren't wrong," he replied, almost as softly. "Not about all of it, anyway. It was my fault. So I'm going to do something about it. Even if it kills me." He pulled back enough to glare balefully at the painting, but winced and looked away almost the instant he saw it. He was trembling in her arms, clutching at her like a lifeline. "I keep fixing it," he admitted. "I hold out as long as I can stand it, then I fix it and let myself breathe for a minute. Then I move it again - but it gets harder every time, not easier."

"I have an idea," she said, and patted him on the back before unwinding from him and standing. "Stay there, and don't touch the picture. I'll be right back."

She ran up the stairs to her room, and dug quickly through her desk drawer. Kid insisted that even their rooms be perfectly symmetrical, which meant all of her personal items were tucked safely out of sight. The cool feel of a metal picture frame met her fingers, and she pulled it out with a triumphant noise.

"Here, this should help," she declared as she entered the living room again. Kid was on his feet but he looked sheepish, and on second glance she realized that although the painting was still skewed, it was hanging at a different angle.

Shaking her head, she placed the picture she carried on the mantle just below the big painting. It was a photo of the three of them in their 'pose', snapped by one of the others when they were practicing one day. For once they were all exactly in position, and though Liz personally thought they looked ridiculous, she knew Kid loved seeing it.

Turning around, she smiled at Kid. "Now every time you want to fix it, you'll be reminded why you're doing this in the first place," she said. "Think that'll help?"

He looked at the picture, then at the painting, then back at the picture again. Slowly he nodded. "Yes. I think it will," he said softly. He looked at her, then hesitantly smiled. "Thank you, Liz."

"Hey, what are partners for?" she asked, and his smile widened. "Now come on, the best thing you can do is probably to get out of here and distract yourself. Come with me back to the infirmary. Patti was wondering why you hadn't come to see her yet."

"What? Go outside?" His eyes widened, and he shivered. "But people will see me!"

"So?" She stared at him, puzzled all over again. "People see you all the time, Kid." He'd never suffered from social anxiety that she knew of.

"They'll know!" he insisted, somewhat hysterically. "They'll be able to tell, they'll know what a horrible person I am. I have something so awful in my home, it's... I can't go outside!"

She sighed, and reminded herself not to get irritated. He was trying. "All right, all right, don't go. But if we're staying here, I'm going to bed. I was up all night."

That distracted him enough to break his incipient panic, and he looked at her with genuine fear in his eyes. "Is Patti going to be okay?" he asked, so quietly she almost couldn't hear him.

"They think so, yeah," Liz said, and his shoulders drooped with relief. "They said she'll be able to come home in a couple of days."

He looked at the picture and the skewed painting, and straightened his shoulders. "Then I'll just have to work hard to improve before that, so she'll know how much she means to me."

Liz had to smile at him again, her irritation once more forgotten. "She already does, Kid. And so do I. But it means a lot to us anyway."

Liz could tell Patti still wasn't feeling well, even though the doctors had cleared her to go home. Her little sister was quiet and subdued, speaking only when spoken to and sticking close to Liz's side. The absence of her usual childish giggle seemed to make the atmosphere heavy with silence even when they were talking.

Worse, Patti's feet were starting to drag as she tired, and they were still only about three quarters of the way home. Liz honestly wasn't sure she would make it. Stopping, she tugged Patti to a halt as well. Liz stepped in front of her sister and crouched, gesturing at her back. "Hop on."

"Really?" Patti's face lit up, and Liz finally got to hear the giggle she'd missed so much over the past few days. Patti scrambled onto Liz's back, and Liz carefully stood again. "Yay, piggy-back," Patti cheered. She wrapped her arms around Liz's neck and hugged her. "You're the bestest big sister ever!"

"No, the best sister ever would have thought to arrange for someone to carry you home," Liz said. "Or at least would have offered you a ride earlier."

"Nope. Bestest," Patti declared loyally. She seemed more animated for a few minutes, but then her head drooped onto Liz's shoulder and she yawned. "Sleepy," she said.

"Well, those painkillers are probably still in your system," Liz said. "Straight to bed for you when we get home."

"No, I wanna see the picture!" Patti exclaimed, sitting up again. "I still don't believe you."

Laughing, Liz gave in. When they finally reached Kid's house - their house, though that thought still felt strange to Liz sometimes - she accordingly headed for the living room first.

"Kid? Hey, Kid! Look who's home," Liz called. There was no answer, and the living room was empty. "Huh, that's weird. He's been pacing around in here for days. Maybe he finally found something to distract him."

"Wow," Patti breathed out, staring at the tilted painting in wonder. Liz noted that the candles beneath it had also been permitted to burn down naturally, so they were now all different shapes and sizes.

"Hey, the picture's missing," she realized. "I guess he took it with him." Patti yawned again, so wide it was a wonder her jaw didn't crack, and Liz chuckled. "Okay, you've seen the picture. Bedtime for you, little sis."

"But I wanna see Kid," Patti said, her lips pursing in the beginning of a pout. "I haven't seen him for days and days."

"I'll send him to you as soon as I find him," Liz promised. Patti was still pouting, but thankfully she didn't start outright whining.

They found Kid much sooner than Liz had expected, however. He was sprawled out on Patti's bed, his position suggesting that he'd been sitting and then toppled over sideways when he fell asleep. For he was asleep, though it looked like his dreams were anything but peaceful. His eyes flickered and he kept twitching, little whimpers escaping him occasionally. Clutched tightly to his chest with both hands was the picture of the three of them.

"Awww!" Patti's voice was hushed, but full of both awe and amusement. "Kid go seepies! Looks like he needs a nap, too."

Liz shook her head, exasperated, but when she caught a glimpse of herself in Patti's mirror she saw a tender little smile on her lips. "I guess you can sleep in my room instead," she said, starting to turn away.

To her surprise, Patti squirmed to be let down. "No! I wanna sleep next to Kid," she insisted. "He's having bad dreams."

Liz looked over her shoulder, uncertain. Patti's bed was fairly small, and her little sister was a restless sleeper. Besides, she was still injured. But then she remembered the way Patti had driven her crazy over the past few days, constantly asking about Kid and demanding to know when he was going to come visit her. She'd obviously missed him a great deal. Liz's smile widened as she carefully set her sister on her feet.

Patti limped over to the bed and slid in against the headboard. Gently she lifted Kid's head and arranged it so he was using her lap as a pillow. For a moment Liz thought Patti had managed to do it without waking him, but then Kid groaned and stirred.

His eyes opened, though they didn't look focused properly. Liz was standing beside the bed, so she was the one he saw first. "Liz?" he said hoarsely. He sounded groggy, like he still wasn't all there. "What happened... where's Patti?" His eyes widened in panic, and he struggled to sit up. "I thought she was supposed to come home today! Did something happen, is she okay? Di-mmph!"

Patti lifted her hand from his mouth after just long enough to stem the flow of words, and giggled. "I'm right here, silly."

"Huh? But... what...?" He blinked at her, then appeared to realize that he was lying half sprawled over her lap. Liz was amused to see him blush bright red. He tried to sit up further, but swayed and collapsed again instead.

"When was the last time you slept?" Liz asked in concern, sitting on the edge of the bed and putting a hand against his forehead. He wasn't feverish, though he certainly looked like he might be sick.

"I don't know... what day is it?" he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. "Before we went on that mission."

"You haven't slept in three days?" Liz exclaimed, astonished. She'd known he wasn't handling the stress very well, but she hadn't realized he was this badly off.

"I can't sleep," he said, haunted. "Every time I close my eyes, I'm sure that when I open them again everything will be wrong, and then I have to run downstairs to check, only that means I'm looking at the painting and if I look at it I have to fix it, and..."

With another little giggle Patti clamped her hand down over his mouth again. "Kid's babbling," she announced with glee. "He's funny when he's sleepy!"

His expression was sheepish as he pushed her hand away. "I haven't fixed it in hours," he said proudly. A moment later he sagged again and added miserably, "But I still can't stop thinking about it, and I can't bear to leave the house with it like that. It's hopeless. I'll never be able to do this!" He looked up at them with tears in his golden eyes. "I'm sorry, I swear you're more important to me than symmetry! I'm just such a useless, despicable..."

This time they both stopped him, Liz putting her hand over Patti's so he wouldn't easily be able to shake loose again. "You don't have to do it all at once, Kid!" she told him. "You didn't get this bad overnight, and you're not going to fix it that fast, either. It's okay."

He looked back at them, despondent. Patti giggled again and leaned over to kiss him firmly on the cheek before tugging her hand out from under Liz's so she could throw her arms around him. "Thank you for trying so hard," she said happily. "I love you, too!"

"We both do," Liz said, smiling as he blushed again. "Even if you do drive us nuts sometimes."

"I... I just don't know what else to do to try to fix myself," Kid confessed, looking at them helplessly. "Will you... help me? Please?" he finished in a whisper.

"Silly!" Patti exclaimed, and hugged him tighter.

"All you ever had to do was ask," Liz told him, and ruffled his hair just because she could. It was already mussed, so for once he couldn't accuse her of ruining his symmetry.

Patti yawned again, her eyes drooping. Kid looked startled, then dismayed. "I'm sorry, you should be resting," he said. He pulled free of them and tried to slide off the bed, but they both grabbed at him.

"You're not going anywhere," Liz said. "You need sleep as bad as she does, and frankly I'm not sure you can stand on your own. I'm certainly not going to carry you."

"Stay here," Patti demanded, another pout threatening.

"But I told you, I can't sleep," Kid protested. "Not really. I'll only keep you awake..."

"I missed you," Patti insisted.

There wasn't really much Kid could say to argue with that, Liz reflected. Thankfully he was smart enough not to try, or Patti might just have thrown a full-scale tantrum. Hesitantly he settled back down, laying his head on Patti's lap only when she pushed on his shoulder to put him there. Liz moved to prop the pillows behind Patti, making sure she'd be comfortable even sitting up.

Despite his protests, it was obvious that Kid was fighting sleep and losing. He kept blinking repeatedly and rubbing his eyes, and Liz saw his jaw clench once as he hid a yawn. He seemed determined to remain awake, and looked almost frightened by the idea of sleeping. How bad could nightmares about crooked pictures really be?

Liz looked at Kid again - the dark circles under his eyes, the smudges on his face where tears had dried - and concluded that for some people they were bad enough. He was trying hard, that was the important thing.

To her surprise, Patti started singing softly, paraphrasing an old lullaby their mother had once sung to them. "Hush, shinigami, don't say a word, Patti's gonna buy you a mocking bird..."

Kid's eyes went wide, and he craned his neck to stare up at her as if he'd never heard a lullaby before. Well, maybe he hadn't. They still knew absolutely nothing about his family history. They didn't even know for certain that he'd had a mother. He wasn't human, after all, though it was easy to forget that sometimes.

The song brought back poignant memories of their own mother, singing to them when one of them had a nightmare. Liz remembered drifting off to sleep with her mother's sweet voice in her ears, cuddled close to Patti and feeling safe and secure and loved. They were some of the best memories she had, and it saddened her to think that Kid had never known anything like it.

Impulsively she joined in on the next verse, and Kid transferred his astonished gaze to her. She smiled at him, and stroked his hair gently as she recalled her mother doing. Slowly, despite his best efforts, his eyes drifted closed. By the end of the song he was sound asleep, and this time he showed no signs of being haunted by nightmares. On the contrary, a tiny smile hovered on his lips, and he looked unusually sweet.

Unfortunately, as Liz discovered when she tried to move, he wasn't the only one who had fallen asleep. Liz had been singing the last few verses by herself without noticing it - Patti had drifted off, and was cuddled against Liz's side with her head on the older girl's shoulder. That left Liz effectively trapped, unless she wanted to wake them both again. Sighing, she gave in to the inevitable and leaned her head back against the pillows, closing her eyes.

There were worse ways she could think of to spend the day than napping with her two most important people.

[Fic] Death Comes To Everyone - Soul Eater

2009-03-12T01:00:49Z

I woke up this morning with this in my head, and I couldn't stop crying until I wrote it down. >.< Thankfully it is short; I was still almost late to class.

I hesitate to actually call this a deathfic, but it kind of is. So if you're really sensitive to that sort of thing, be warned.

Title: Death Comes To Everyone
Series: Soul Eater
Pairing: gen
Rating: PG
Warning: angst, omg angst. But sap too.
Length: 1306

Living for a thousand years has its drawbacks.

Hospitals were often noisy and frantic, with people rushing in all directions; doctors, nurses, patients and visitors made for crowded hallways. Ordinarily nothing could make a dent in that chaos, but today a wave of respectful silence followed in the wake of one particular visitor. The tall creature in his jagged black cloak was instantly noticeable in any crowd, and the stark white mask was recognizable by even the smallest toddler in Death City.

Most of the staff were used to his presence, but the nurse at the desk on the fourth floor was new. She actually squeaked when she saw him, clutching her clipboard to her chest, her eyes wide. He paused, and looked down at her. "It's all right," he assured her. "I don't bite. I leave that to my Deathscythes." He chuckled.

"Sh-shinigami-sama," she stammered. "Um. C-can I... help you?"

"No, thank you. I know the way," he said, and glided off down the hall once more.

An older, more experienced nurse patted the first one on the shoulder. "Never seen him up close before?" she asked. "It's okay. Everybody gets nervous the first time."

"Is something wrong?" the first nurse asked, looking after him apprehensively. "I mean, is he here to... to collect a soul from someone?"

"You didn't know? One of his very first Deathscythes is here," the second nurse said. "He comes to visit her fairly often."

"Wow, we have a Deathscythe here? I had no idea." The first nurse shook her head. "Wait, I thought they were dead?"

"No, one of them is still alive." The second nurse's smile was sad. "Though he's come in good time. I think this might be his last visit."

Shinigami stepped inside one of the private rooms, and checked to make certain there weren't any nurses or doctors present. The only occupant was the frail old woman in the bed, sleeping peacefully while machines beeped or hummed softly around her. She was tiny and ancient, and looked as if a strong breeze would blow her away.

He locked the door and used a touch of his magic to change all the windows into mirrors. There was only one person left alive in the world who was permitted to see him without his mask, and she was lying in the bed before him. He didn't want anyone else peeking.

When he turned back to her, she had awoken and was staring at him with a bemused smile. "Shinigami-sama?" she said, her voice quivering and soft with age. Her hair was pure white and the colour of her eyes had faded until they were more grey than blue, but it wasn't hard for him to remember what she had looked like at her most beautiful, so many years ago.

He reached up and pushed back his mask and hood, revealing a man seemingly in his early twenties. His stark black hair had three white rings emblazoned around his head, and his golden eyes were warm as he smiled back at her. "Hello, Patti," he murmured, moving forward.

"Kid!" she exclaimed, her whole face lighting up. She lifted a shaky hand, and he took it in both of his own as he sat next to her. "Oh, it's good to see you!" She giggled, a sound that tugged at his heartstrings with the thousands of memories it evoked. "Is Liz coming?"

He hesitated. Sometimes she still remembered everything, but more and more often now when he came to visit she seemed to be living in the past. His own appearance, hardly any older than when she'd met him more than seventy years ago, had to add to her confusion.

Today of all days, there was no reason to remind her of something that would only hurt her. "She'll be here," he lied, keeping his voice steady though his throat ached with unshed tears. Liz had been gone for nearly a year now, and Patti's health had declined rapidly since then. The sisters had never been separated before, and he knew they wouldn't be for much longer. "She's primping. You know how she is. She always has to look her best."

"Especially for you," Patti agreed slyly, and grinned. "Tell me a story while we wait?"

"Of course," he said. He lifted one hand to stroke gently through her wispy hair. "Once upon a time there were two sisters..."

"Were they princesses?" she asked eagerly. "Make them princesses!"

"No, they weren't royalty," he said. "In fact, they were robbers. One day a prince came along, not knowing that they extracted a toll from anyone who travelled through their realm..."

He continued to spin out the story, his heart aching more with every word. He remembered listening to Patti tell this story and others like it to his daughter when Deatha was very small. Sometimes he brought her with him on his visits, but today he'd left her at home with his current Deathscythes watching over her. She was still far too young to understand why her mother and Aunt Patti couldn't live 'forever' like she and her father would.

"...and that's how the two sisters and the prince vanquished the evil spider queen, with the help of all their brave friends," he finished, and she beamed at him.

"Did they live happily ever after with their prince?" she asked.

"They were happy together," he said, his voice growing hoarse though he refused to allow tears to form in his eyes. She would want to know what was wrong, and he didn't want to tell her. "For as long as they lived." 'Ever after' didn't really exist, not for humans. Only for shinigami.

She yawned, her eyelids drooping. "When will Liz get here?" she demanded. "I'm so sleepy."

"Then why don't you take a nap?" he suggested, still stroking her hair. "I'll wake you when she arrives."

"You'll stay?" she asked, suddenly anxiously. She squeezed his hand, so weak he barely felt it, and he squeezed hers back carefully.

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised.

"Okay." She smiled sweetly at him. "Love you, Kid."

"I love you too, Patti." He leaned over and kissed her gently, and she sighed and closed her eyes.

She was asleep almost immediately, but he kept his promise and stayed by her side. With another touch of magic he silenced the machines, so he could hear her soft breathing and so the alarms wouldn't bring doctors and nurses running to try to get into the room.

After several minutes her breathing slowed, and her grip on his hand relaxed. He watched her soul flicker and waver, then rise slowly to hover above her body. Once there it strengthened again, becoming just as vibrant as he remembered it being.

Now, when she couldn't see him, he allowed the tears to run freely down his face. He reached out and cupped the soul in his hands, cherishing it for a long moment. "Goodbye, Patti," he whispered. "Give my love to Liz." With a gentle push he sent it on to where it belonged, where he knew Liz was already waiting for her. Someday he would join them there as well, but it would be a very long time in coming. He had a lot of work to do, first.

Standing, he glanced at one of the mirror-windows, studying his own reflection. After a moment he nodded and pulled the hood up and mask down once more, covering his face. This was the last time he would ever remove it. Death the Kid had died with Patti, and only Shinigami remained now.

As he released the magic obscuring the windows and unlocked the door, he thought he heard the ghostly echo of a childish giggle, followed by a warm chuckle he hadn't heard in a year. Beneath his mask, Shinigami smiled through his tears.

[Fic] Foresight Is 20/20 - DGM, Kanda/Lavi - 17/17

2009-03-10T14:32:41Z

DONE! *punches fist in the air triumphantly* Thanks to everyone who expressed concern about my hand - thankfully it's my left hand that's injured, so I'm able to write by hand well enough. It just takes forever to type it up. ;p

Also many, many thanks to all of you for your patience, and for the wonderful comments that I'm so bad about replying to. *shamefaced* Every one helps keep me going and encourages me, and I appreciate them more than I can say.

This story has been such a struggle, but I'm glad I let it do what it wanted instead of forcing it to follow my outline. It bears little resemblence to the original concept and I've lost a lot of the scenes that prompted me to start it in the first place, but it's a much better story now. *laughs*

Title: Foresight Is 20/20
Series: D.Gray-man
Pairing: Kanda/Lavi
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: violence, angst, yaoi, swearing, the usual
Chapter length: 6032
Total length: 69,961

Forewarned may be fore-armed, but sometimes knowing in advance isn't everything it's cracked up to be.

"Lavi!" The cry of horror came from Kanda and Lenalee on the same breath, and Lavi was hit by a vision of what would happen if they turned from the Akuma to try to rescue him. It was potentially even worse than the original vision of Lenalee's death that had sent him here in the first place. He had to keep them focused on it, or the only thing he would have accomplished was to bring Kanda here to die as well.

The Bookmen might not normally get involved in the fights they observed, but Lavi hadn't lived his whole life on the battlefield without learning a few dirty tricks. Tyki had made a mistake by getting close enough for Lavi to retaliate. He dug his thumbnail into the soft flesh between tendons on Tyki's wrist, searching for the nerve cluster there.

"Ow!" Tyki exclaimed, and jerked his hand away. That freed Lavi's mouth and took the pressure off his throat. He coughed and drew a deep breath.

"Kill the Akuma!" he shouted at the others, trying to put confidence into his voice that he didn't feel. "I'll handle Tyki!" He slammed his foot back, aiming not for the crotch or instep, which Tyki might have expected, but for the kneecap. He didn't connect solidly, but even a glancing blow was more than enough to make Tyki curse in pain and release him completely, stepping back to dissolve into the wood of the cabin. Lavi didn't bother spinning to face where the other Noah had been, knowing Tyki would emerge from a totally different direction.

Unfortunately his warning had come a little too late. The third level had shaken off Bookman's cocoon of needles, a bit dented now but not much the worse for wear. Kanda and Lenalee's moment of inattention allowed it to strike them both from behind. Lavi bit off a cry as he saw them both hit the deck hard. There was still a chance they would recover and win, but not if Tyki got at them. Lavi needed to focus on Tyki as the greater threat, not help them with the Akuma. With an effort he turned his back on the Exorcists and waited for the other Noah to make his move.

"You think you can handle me, do you?" Tyki taunted him, his voice coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. "I think you're getting a bit ahead of yourself."

Sweating hard, Lavi did his best to ignore the continued sounds of battle and cries of pain from the others. Where would Tyki appear next? Behind him? No, too predictable. Off to one side, then, but which side?

There was a sudden explosion of movement in the air, and a wave of dark, fluttering wings engulfed him. Lavi shouted in terror and flung himself back, frantically trying to escape the cloud of Tease. He hit the railing and almost went over the side into the water, but he hooked his hammer around a nearby capstan and kept himself aboard.

Of course, that meant his hammer was occupied for a moment, and that was when Tyki chose to reappear and attack. The older Noah feinted once at Lavi's face and threw a brutal punch into his midsection, driving all the air out of his lungs and nearly pitching him over the rail. Lavi managed to turn his body with the momentum of the blow and slide out from between Tyki and the rail so he wasn't pinned, but that just put him right back into the cloud of Tease.

After his last experience with the nasty creatures, Lavi found it nearly impossible to fight the primal, instinctive fear that tried to turn his limbs to water when surrounded by them. He felt the first nibbles on his exposed skin and flailed wildly to drive them off, utterly panicked.

His distraction was nearly disastrous. Tyki stepped through the Tease and reached for the shaft of Lavi's Innocence, dark power already crackling around his hand and the shark's grin firmly on his face. Realizing what he intended, Lavi threw the hammer away from him, out of the Noah's reach. If it was destroyed, he had no doubt that it would mean an instant victory for the aspect of Noah within him.

Unfortunately that left him without any way to attack or defend himself. Tyki swept his legs out from under him, sending him tumbling to the deck. The Tease swarmed after him, and Lavi imagined he could almost hear them chittering with hunger for his flesh and blood. He shuddered and rolled away, hands scrabbling desperately to regain his Innocence.

He found it just as Tyki's heavy boot connected solidly with his ribs, driving the air out of his lungs yet again. Lavi wheezed and tried to swing the hammer around to strike Tyki in turn, but the bastard just laughed and danced away again.

Lavi was growing desperate. He already knew there was no way he could win this battle. Tyki had proved that the last time they'd fought. If the other Exorcists could help him, then maybe - but they had all they could do just to hold off the damned third level.

"You can't win, you know," Tyki said, smiling as if he knew he was echoing Lavi's own thoughts. "Not this battle, and not the war. Not even against yourself. You might as well give up now. I'll even make it fast and painless if you do."

"Yeah, and if I believed that, I still wouldn't give you the satisfaction," Lavi growled. He felt the Tease nibbling at his newly-healed skin, and had to fight off another wave of panic.

Frantically he searched the futures, trying to find something, anything, that would turn the tide of this battle. Preferably before the third level damaged Lenalee past mending. Lavi couldn't see Tyki's actions, but he could at least see the general aftermath of any idea he came up with.

Plan after plan revealed visions of death and destruction. Battling the Tease all the while, with Tyki's laughter carrying over the shouts and cries from the others, Lavi began to despair. Maybe there wasn't any way to win. Had it all been for nothing?

He summoned a brief burst of flame to chase off the Tease, gaining himself some breathing room. Tyki became visible as the Tease lifted, and Lavi lunged towards him. The bastard actually had the nerve to stand there smirking at him, waiting until the last possible moment before he sank into the deck out of reach of Lavi's hammer.

Frustrated beyond belief, Lavi slammed the hammer into the deck anyway. It didn't make him feel any better, but it did at least keep the Tease off his back a moment longer.

If he could just pin Tyki down for one minute - thirty seconds, even! But the only thing the bastard couldn't melt right through was Innocence, and if Lavi could hit him with the hammer in the first place, he wouldn't need to...

It struck him then with all the force of a blow from his own hammer. He knew what he had to do. There was one other thing Tyki couldn't pass through at will - another Noah. If he could just get close enough, he could hold Tyki. There was one way. It would work, it would work; it would save Lenalee and Kanda, and all the others...

...but not him.

Conflict threatened to overwhelm him. Lavi's self-preservation instinct howled at him to save himself, backed by more than a decade of training as a Bookman that said he must preserve his own life at all costs. His heart shrieked at the idea of leaving the others to die. And over it all rose the voice of Noah.

It was as bad as the conflict over Allen, if not worse. Lavi hit his knees, teeth gritted and hands over his ears as if that would help block out the noise in his mind. He was so absorbed in his internal struggle that he hardly even registered it when the Tease descended on him again.

Save himself? Or his friends? Sacrifice himself and die an Exorcist, or flee through the Ark now and live... as a Noah?

Feeling like he was literally being torn in two, Lavi screamed.

Kanda heard Lavi scream; a helpless, hopeless sound that had nothing to do with external pain. He'd only heard Lavi make a noise like that once before - right before Lavi had nearly lost himself to Noah.

"Lavi!" Half panicked, Kanda ducked a strike from the Akuma and turned to scan the deck. It took him a moment to find the Noah. Lavi was crouched in a ball, huddled against the railing with a cloud of Tease around him and his Innocence lying abandoned at his feet.

"La..." Kanda's second shout was cut off abruptly as the Akuma struck him from behind, Lenalee's warning coming seconds too late. Kanda was slammed into the deck and pinned there by the chains now wrapped completely around his body. They tightened, holding him in place and slowly squeezing the air out of him.

He heard Lenalee cry out, and from the corner of his eye saw the Akuma grab her out of mid-air. Bookman was already out of the fight, his Innocence rendered useless by the ephemeral chains, and Krory had gone over the rail and hadn't yet made his way back onto the ship. None of them could reach Lavi, assuming they could even do anything to help him.

Tyki was still laughing, but Lavi had stopped screaming, and that was a bad sign. Gasping for air, Kanda struggled to get Mugen at an angle where he could strike the Akuma. It felt like his heart was going to pound its way out of his chest in sheer panic.

"Okay, that's enough of that."

Lavi's voice had the same curiously flat, dead tone that Kanda had heard before. He did something, and the Tease suddenly lifted away to hover over him uncertainly. Lavi stood, facing Tyki with a mocking smile. "Don't kill them too quickly, Tyki. Where's the fun in that?"

"Lavi! No!" Lenalee cried, then choked as the Akuma squeezed her tighter. Kanda redoubled his efforts to free himself, but the more he struggled the heavier the chains seemed to get.

It has to be a trick, he told himself frantically. He hasn't really given in. Not now, not after everything!

"Ho?" Tyki seemed unimpressed by Lavi's apparent change of heart. "Do you really expect me to fall for the same thing again? Fool me twice, shame on me."

"What was it you wanted me to do to prove myself last time?" Lavi asked, tapping his cheek and pretending to think hard. "Oh, yeah, I remember."

His hand shot out, pointing straight at one of the ship's crew. The man screamed and clawed at his face, and then his whole body seemed to swell until it burst the skin. Something that resembled an Akuma but wasn't quite the same emerged.

Lenalee shrieked in denial, and Kanda felt as if ice gripped his whole body. If this was a trick, Lavi had just taken it much, much too far. There was no going back from this. His Innocence would surely turn on him the moment he touched it again. Lavi had fallen to Noah's influence at last, and there would be no bringing him back from the edge this time.

"Well, well." Tyki sounded surprised. "Impressive. I notice you didn't choose to turn one of your friends, however."

Lavi laughed, a derisive sound that chilled Kanda's soul further. "Have you ever actually tried to turn an Exorcist? It's harder than you think, and I don't have enough time to break one of them here and now." Kanda couldn't see Tyki from where he was pinned, but the Noah must have looked sceptical because Lavi shrugged. "Try it yourself, if you don't believe me."

"Hmm?" Tyki stepped into view, and smiled like a shark at Kanda. Kanda felt something pushing at him, as if it was trying to squeeze him right out of his body. Then Mugen flared with green light so brilliant it was almost white, and the pressure released him abruptly.

The Akuma's chains loosened their grip as well, but Kanda was in no shape to take advantage of the opportunity. He lay gasping on the deck, fighting just to breathe, every ounce of his will concentrated on not letting go of Mugen. His hand was spasming and his whole body was in agony, but the thought of Tyki trying that again and succeeding was more than enough incentive for Kanda to hang on.

"It appears you're right," Tyki said, shrugging as he dropped his hand. "A pity. That would have been ironically amusing."

"It's not a total loss," Lavi pointed out cheerfully. "I can always take one or two home with me, and play with them there. Given enough time and attention, they will break. Especially once their Innocence is gone."

"Speaking of which, what about that?" Tyki indicated the hammer still at Lavi's feet.

"Mm." Lavi looked down at it with an expression of distaste, like a cat presented with rotten food. "If I touch it, I'll Fall. While that would also be ironically amusing, it won't do the Earl's side much good." He grinned back at Tyki. "I know. Why don't you destroy it? That way you know it's gone for real this time."

Kanda heard muffled cursing from Bookman's direction, and Lenalee was sobbing. Tyki looked delighted. "I believe I will," he said, stepping forward.

With an incoherent shout of rage and fear, Kanda scrambled over the deck to try to snatch the hammer out of Tyki's reach. He wasn't even sure what he thought that would accomplish; his subconscious simply insisted that if the Innocence was destroyed, they would lose any last hope of saving Lavi.

He made it perhaps two feet before something caught him and held him by the scruff of the neck. Weakened as he was, Kanda couldn't break free and ended up pinned to the deck once more. "Trying to make it better with a kiss again?" Lavi taunted him, leaning down to grin at him. "Sorry, Yuu. You're not gonna get a chance to keep that promise."

Kanda snarled up at him, but what he saw when he met Lavi's eyes left him stunned. There was no sign of the predatory, alien expression he'd seen last time Noah had taken over. There was only Lavi looking back at him, determined and genuinely apologetic.

"Lavi..." Kanda gasped, and tried to grab for him. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but he had a very, very bad feeling about this.

At that moment Tyki picked up the hammer, the Innocence reverting in his hand as his dark energy crawled over it. Quick as the flash of his lightning seal, Lavi released Kanda and lunged for Tyki instead. He clamped one hand on the other Noah's arm, the other coming to rest on the shining Innocence sitting on Tyki's palm.

"Gouka Kaijin," Lavi said flatly, and smiled into Tyki's shocked expression. An instant later flame burst into being around them both, burning with all the heat and fury of a volcanic explosion.

Lenalee shrieked again, Krory cried out from somewhere, and even Bookman gave a shocked shout. Kanda realized he was yelling as well, loud enough that his throat ached with it, too stunned and numb to even know what he was saying. He was close enough to the fire that it sucked all the air right out of his lungs and left him feeling scorched inside, but that was nothing compared to what the two in the centre of the conflagration must be experiencing.

Tyki was screaming in agony and struggling to get away, but Lavi had wrapped both arms around the other Noah and was refusing to let go. Lavi alone made not a sound, though his teeth were clenched in pain and Kanda could see the flesh burning from his body.

Something inside Kanda rebelled. After everything they had been through, after everything Lavi had sacrificed, Kanda refused to let it end this way.

Summoning a reserve of energy he didn't even know he possessed, Kanda surged to his feet and threw himself into the flames.

The fireball closed around him, cutting off his view of the rest of the ship and roaring in his ears. Kanda's entire world was engulfed in flames, heat, and smoke. If he'd thought he felt scorched before, he was learning a whole new definition of agony now. He wasn't sure if he was screaming or not; it didn't really matter. He couldn't see a damned thing, but he knew Lavi and Tyki were still in here somewhere because he could still hear Tyki's cries.

He impacted with a body and pushed hard to send them both tumbling out of the flames, hoping he'd found the right Noah. They hit the deck hard, and when he could see again Kanda was relieved to find it was Lavi he'd knocked free.

Behind them the fire flared once more, then went out as abruptly as it had begun. The sudden slap of cooler air against his burned skin redoubled the pain Kanda was in. He coughed and struggled for air, feeling like knives were being driven through his lungs with every breath he took.

"Kanda! Lavi!" Lenalee shouted, and Kanda was vaguely aware of the sound of staggering footsteps coming towards them. Lenalee dropped to her knees beside them, hands hovering over them as if she desperately wanted to touch them but was afraid of hurting them further. "Oh, my God, are you all right? No, never mind, that's a stupid question. Can I help?"

"Tyki?" Kanda croaked, and even that one word felt like he'd torn out his throat to say it.

"Fled," Krory answered as he moved into sight, dashing Kanda's hopes that they'd actually managed to kill the bastard. "He was badly hurt; the third level took him and ran."

Rough, gnarled hands braced Kanda by the shoulders. Fingers pressed hard against spots on his neck and upper spine, and it became a little easier to breath. "Help Lavi," he ordered Bookman, pushing the old man away when he tried to help Kanda sit up.

Bookman only frowned in response, and Kanda felt his temper boil over. He opened his mouth to say something scathing, and never mind how much it hurt to talk - but to his surprise, Lenalee beat him to it.

"What more proof do you need that he's still on our side?" she demanded. "Help him, Bookman!" Her voice caught on a sob. "Please. I beg you. We've already lost Allen, I can't bear to lose Lavi, too."

"I wasn't going to refuse," Bookman told them irritably. "I'm just not certain there's anything I can do. He's burned too badly for the pressure points to even register."

"Miranda! Can't you do something?" Lenalee implored someone behind him. Kanda managed to turn his head just enough to see a stranger in an Exorcist's uniform leaning against what was left of the cabin wall. She looked unhealthy, pale and sweating very badly. A glowing disc spun just above her arm, a match for the giant one that hung over the main mast.

"I've got him on the Time Record the moment he entered the fight," the woman - presumably Miranda - said. "I hadn't activated it until now because I wasn't certain which record was the Akuma's. If I trigger it now he'll heal, but it will only be temporary." Her lower lip wobbled, and she looked ready to cry. "I can't save his life, you know that."

"No, but I can, given enough time to work with," Bookman said gruffly. "Do it."

She nodded, and the disc on her arm glowed brighter. More discs appeared over Lavi's body, spinning in place like a psychotic set of clocks. The horrible burns faded, leaving behind unmarred skin. Lavi's breathing became easier, and the lines of pain on his face eased. Even his clothes were returned to normal. With a start, Kanda realized his own pain had vanished far faster than could be accounted for even by the lotus spell, and when he looked down he saw more discs spinning over him.

When the damage was gone the discs faded. Bookman leaned in with his needles and began to work. "Can you save him?" Kanda demanded after an agonized moment.

"If you stop jogging my elbow," Bookman said, pausing momentarily to glare at him. "Be quiet or leave."

Miranda looked even worse off than before, and Krory was steadying her. Lenalee was still kneeling next to Kanda, tears on her face but her smile full of fragile hope. "I don't know how you two got here, but..." She trailed off and shook her head, sniffling. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you both."

"That's no cause to get emotional," Kanda said, horrified by the tears. The last thing he wanted was to have to deal with Lenalee breaking down on him. "He can tell you the whole story as soon as he's awake."

"Why isn't he awake?" Lenalee asked Miranda, worried.

The dark-haired woman shook her head. "The Time Record doesn't affect the mind, or you'd all forget everything every time I activated it. His subconscious is telling him that he's going to be in a lot of pain if he wakes, so his conscious is hiding from it."

"He'll wake soon enough," Bookman said absently. He leaned back and dusted off his hands, frowning. "For now, we should move him someplace a bit more sheltered, and let the sailors do their work."

For the first time Kanda realized that the ship's crew were giving them a wide berth, skirting the edges of the deck to stay away from the cluster of Exorcists. It didn't seem to be fear, but rather respect that kept them away. Whatever the reason, Kanda was grateful for it. He didn't want to have to deal with a bunch of ignorant laymen at the moment.

"Let's get you both down below, in the cabin," Lenalee said, offering him a hand up. He ignored it and stood on his own, then scooped Lavi up gently in his arms. Lenalee picked up Lavi's Innocence, which had returned to its hammer form and was lying on the deck where the scorched circle had been.

"Lead the way," Kanda said gruffly, glaring when Bookman raised an eyebrow at him. His expression dared the old man to make a comment about his care with the injured Noah.

Bookman shrugged, and headed for a door which presumably led below decks. Kanda followed carefully with his precious burden. He would never admit aloud how much Lavi had come to mean to him, but his actions spoke for him. Not for anyone else would he have leapt into the flames like that.

He just hoped the idiot would appreciate it.

Tyki was still out there, and so was the Akuma, plus plenty more where they'd come from. God alone knew what consequences Lavi would suffer from what he'd done, turning that man into an Akuma. Perhaps sacrificing himself in the attempt to destroy Tyki had been enough to make up for it, since he hadn't Fallen when he'd touched his Innocence.

Despite all of that, however, Kanda couldn't help but feel like they'd won. They'd saved Lenalee and her Innocence, and proved where Lavi's loyalties lay beyond a shadow of a doubt. Even Bookman seemed to grudgingly accept that his former heir's status as a Noah might not exclude his position as an Exorcist.

Now all that was left was to win the war. Kanda smiled grimly down at the man in his arms. They might yet manage to pull off even that.

The world shifted and rocked gently beneath Lavi, though the surface he was lying on felt solid enough. Groggily he opened his eyes, and discovered that although the room itself stayed level relative to him, the lantern hanging from the low ceiling was swaying back and forth in time with the movement of the earth.

No, not the earth, he belatedly realized. The ship. He was on a ship on the ocean, the waves just high enough for the rocking to be felt. Memory came back all in a rush, and he gasped and sat up abruptly.

"Oh! You startled me," Lenalee exclaimed, jumping. She was sitting across from him, looking at him with a worried expression. "How do you feel?"

"I..." Lavi's voice was hoarse, and he coughed a couple of times. She offered him a cup full of water, and he drank it gratefully. His voice was much closer to normal when he tried again to speak. "I feel like shit, but considerin' I didn't even expect to be alive..."

"You shouldn't be," a familiar scathing voice said from one side, and he turned his head to see Kanda leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and face set in a scowl. Only his eyes betrayed his true emotions; they were locked on Lavi, and he looked concerned and relieved. "That was the stupidest damned stunt I've ever seen you pull. And that's saying something."

Lavi smiled back at him, a little giddy. "It worked, didn't it?" he said lightly. He patted the holster on his thigh automatically, and frowned when he found it empty. "What? Where's..."

Kanda extended his hand, the tiny hammer resting on his palm, and Lavi took it from him. Its power prickled over his skin like a continuous jolt of static electricity, and he sensed it wasn't entirely happy with him, but it didn't seem inclined to cause him to Fall just yet. He sighed in relief, and tucked it into its holster where it belonged. "I don't suppose I actually managed to kill Tyki?"

"No such luck," Kanda said sourly. "But you chased him off, and the Akuma with him. I doubt we'll see them again any time soon."

"Noah heal fast, unfortunately," Lavi sighed. "Or fortunately, in my case. How did I survive, anyway?"

"Kanda knocked you out of the fire," Lenalee explained. "Then Miranda used her Innocence to erase your wounds long enough for Bookman to save you, and the rest you're healing on your own."

"Yuu did what?" Lavi stared at him, floored. The other man shrugged irritably and looked away, but there was the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"Don't make such a big deal of it," Kanda said. "It was instinct, that's all."

Lavi smiled, a soft expression that was nothing like the manic grin he had once so commonly displayed. "Thanks, Yuu."

"Now what do we do, though?" Lenalee asked, worried. "We're still days away from Japan, and I don't think Miranda's going to last that long. The moment her attention wavers, the Time Record will end and the ship will fall apart."

"Thankfully, we've got the answer to that right here," Lavi said, tapping his chest. "I can take everyone who survived through the Ark. It won't be easy, but we've got enough Exorcists to handle it, I think."

"Can you take that many people?" Kanda asked, surprised. "I had to be touching you for you to pull me with you. There must be thirty people on this ship, or more."

"I said, 'everyone who survived', not 'everyone on the ship'," Lavi said softly, full of grief and guilt. "Other than the Exorcists, I don't sense more than three or four living souls on this ship. Everything else is..." he grimaced, searching for words to describe it. "It's like the presence of an Akuma, only a lot weaker. I think it's the virus I'm sensing."

"What?" Lenalee exclaimed, startled and dismayed. "But... but... Oh, no! The Time Record..."

Lavi nodded. "I don't understand how it works, exactly, but I saw several people get hit and keep walking when they should have turned to dust. Once whatever's keeping them alive is gone, they'll all get hit with it at once."

"The man you turned," Kanda exclaimed, straightening abruptly and staring at him. "I couldn't understand how your Innocence could forgive that - or how you could have done it in the first place, if you weren't really under Noah's control."

"He was already dead long before I turned him," Lavi confirmed.

"No!" Lenalee cried, and buried her face in her hands. "No, no, I can't stand this! Why must so many people die! Why can't we save anyone!"

Lavi's foresight warned him where this could lead; Lenalee might have survived the battle with the third level thanks to his and Kanda's intervention, but her spirit was a delicate thing. If it was crushed completely, she would be just as useless as if she'd lost her Innocence.

He caught her hands and pulled her into a hug. "I'll tell you a secret," he murmured into her ear as she sobbed and clung to him. "Allen's alive."

That was possibly the one thing that could have caught her attention and dragged her out of her incipient depression. She pulled back and stared at him, eyes wide and shining with tears. "What?"

He nodded. "He's alive, with the Asian branch right now," he said. "And there's a chance he'll even meet us in Japan, though I'm not sure how exactly." He shrugged, and smiled. "So, wipe those tears off your face. Y'don't want him to know you've been crying. Y'know how he is, he'll just fuss over you."

She laughed weakly and scrubbed the tears from her face, then leaned over and hugged him again. "Thank you," she said. "For everything. It must have been so hard on you! I don't think I'd have had the strength to do what you did."

"Huh?" Lavi blinked at her, confused. "What'd I do?"

"Going undercover with the Noah," she said, as if it should have been obvious. He made a startled noise, and she smiled up at him. "Brother told me, after you left his office that night. He made me swear on my life not to say a word to anyone."

"That's why you were so insistent on seeing him before you left," Kanda said with the air of a man who'd just had a revelation. He turned on Lavi. "Did everyone know but me?"

"Hey, this is the first I'm hearing of it!" Lavi protested. It did explain a few things, though. He'd wondered why he'd never seen a future where his defection sent Lenalee over the edge, given how very fragile she was about things like that.

She nodded. "Yes, but I ended up being late. I wanted you to know that at least a few of us still believed in you, no matter what," she added to Lavi. "But I couldn't exactly tell Kanda to pass on the message."

"I should hope not!" he exclaimed. "That would have ruined everything. But we can talk about it later. You need to go round everyone up, and bring them to the main deck so we can get out of here. From what I can see, Miranda ain't gonna last much longer, and we need to be gone before she breaks under the strain."

Lenalee nodded and jumped to her feet, hugging him yet again before running out of the room. Lavi sighed and pushed himself to his feet as well. The cabin was tiny, as rooms on ships tended to be; that put him easily within reach of Kanda.

The other man promptly reached out and punched him in the chest. Hard. "Ow! Hey, what was that for?" Lavi asked, wide-eyed.

"For making me think you'd actually given in to Noah," Kanda snapped.

Slowly Lavi smiled at him. "So, does that mean you're still gonna stick with me, so you can keep your promise to kill me if I do?" he asked hopefully.

Kanda glared at him, and there was far more heat in his eyes than could be accounted for only by his anger. "I'm not even close to paying you back for everything you put me through," he said. "Especially after the stunt you just pulled."

Remembering just what Kanda had already demanded as partial payment on that debt, Lavi shivered. "So I guess that means it wasn't just a one time thing?"

He saw it coming, so he wasn't surprised when Kanda growled and grabbed him by the arm, spinning him around to pin him to the cabin wall. What did surprise him was the vision that swept over him a moment later, of slick skin and heated flesh, and cries of pleasure so intense it was almost pain.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Kanda said, his voice jerking Lavi back to the present. "I thought that damned vision of yours was done with!"

"Different vision," Lavi told him, his voice husky and the smile on his face big enough to swallow his hammer. That one vision soothed his fear that they would never have a chance to be together again, and that made him feel a whole lot better about everything.

"Don't worry," he added. "It's gonna take you a long time to make me pay you back for everything. 'Specially since this is hardly gonna be the last of it." He'd just have to make certain to stay one step ahead of Kanda's mental tally.

"Idiot," Kanda said, but he was blushing again. Then to Lavi's extreme delight Kanda leaned in and kissed him, fast but hard, before pulling away entirely. "Now make yourself look human. Nobody was paying much attention in the fight, but if you want them to be willing to follow you through the Ark..."

"Yeah, good idea," Lavi said. "Wonder if Krory has an extra uniform jacket I could wear, that'd probably help, too." He closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment, and when he opened them again he could see that his hands were the pale colour of his true self.

"Oh, damn it, I don't have my eyepatch," he realized, exasperated. "Oh well. Maybe they won't notice. We're not gonna have a whole lotta time to stand around gazing into each other's eyes, anyway."

Kanda was staring at him, looking shocked. Lavi cocked his head. "What? Did I miss something?" he asked, concerned. He reached up and touched his bare forehead, checking to make certain the Crown of Thorns wasn't still showing. To his relief there was nothing but smooth skin beneath his fingertips.

"You..." Kanda started, but couldn't seem to finish the sentence. He looked around quickly, then growled and unsheathed Mugen, activating it so that it shone silver. "Look."

He angled the blade so that Lavi could see part of his face in it, like a mirror. Lavi was about to ask what the hell he was on about, when he realized just what he was looking at. "They're both green," he said, as shocked as Kanda had been a moment before. "Yuu, both my eyes are green!"

Deactivating his Innocence, Kanda sheathed it again. "Maybe you've finally gotten some control?"

"Maybe," Lavi agreed, startled all over again by the thought. "Or maybe Noah finally realized how much I'm willing to sacrifice to keep myself out of his control. He's being awfully quiet. I won't do him much good if I'm dead, after all."

He smiled, ecstatic. Maybe it really was possible for him to control his Noah after all. "C'mon, Yuu, we're running out of time," he said cheerfully. "Let's go save the world, before Noah gets bored and starts bitching at me again. Allen's prob'ly waiting for us." He caught Kanda's hand and dragged the other man bodily out of the room, though Kanda didn't resist much. He also didn't attempt to shake loose of Lavi's hand, which made Lavi feel like he was walking on air.

"Idiot," Kanda repeated, but there might have been the ghost of a smile on his lips when he said it.

[Fic] Foresight Is 20/20 - DGM, Kanda/Lavi - 16/17

2009-03-09T14:06:20Z

Yay, the end is near! 17 is finished and with my beta, I will post it in the next few days. Sorry for the long delay. I hate taking so long to finish a story. This one took even longer than it should have, because I injured my hand on Monday and typing is suddenly far more difficult than it should be. ;p

Title: Foresight Is 20/20
Series: D.Gray-man
Pairing: Kanda/Lavi
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: violence, angst, yaoi, swearing, the usual
Chapter length: 4455
Total length: 63,929

Forewarned may be fore-armed, but sometimes knowing in advance isn't everything it's cracked up to be.

The echo of a scream woke Lavi abruptly from a restless sleep, and he flailed. His mind was still caught half in dreams, half in visions, and he couldn't seem to find his way to the present. Where was he? What was he doing? What the fuck was going on?

A hand grabbed him by the shoulder, hard, and shook him. "Lavi. Lavi!" Kanda's voice intruded on the visions. The voice and grip gave him an anchor to fix on, something to help lead him back to the present. He gasped as the world around him snapped into focus, and he knew he was back where he belonged.

Had the scream been a dream or vision? Or had it actually happened here and now? It must have, or why would Kanda be shaking him awake? "What the fuck?" he demanded, staring around wildly, looking for the threat. The banked fire in the middle of the clearing where they'd made camp sent up a few sparks as if in answer, but otherwise there was only the crickets chirping beyond the little circle of dim light that enclosed them.

"That's what I want to know," Kanda replied sourly. "You started moaning in your sleep, and then screamed Lenalee's name." He looked like he was trying to cover worry with anger, and failing. "It's the same thing you did when you had that vision about Allen. Is Tyki going after her, next?"

Bracing himself, Lavi reached for the future and was immediately swept up in a swirl of visions centred on Lenalee. "No... not quite," he said grimly. "The ship they're on, Lenalee and Bookman and some others, it's going to be attacked by a third level." His voice shook despite his best efforts to keep it steady, and when he wiped a hand across his forehead it came away covered in sweat. In the best possible outcome he could see, Lenalee would burn out her Innocence saving the others, and be a helpless civilian for the rest of her very short life. In the worst...

Kanda swore viciously. "And I suppose you're going to tell me we can't do anything about this, either. What, does Lenalee become the next Grand General if she survives, or something?"

Lavi had to swallow hard before he could speak again. He wrenched himself away from the visions, clutching at Kanda with one hand to help hold himself in the present. "No, this we can do something about... if we can get there in time." He shook his head. "They're on a ship halfway between China and Japan. This is going to happen soon, tonight."

"Damn it!" Kanda pounded the ground beneath their bedroll with one fist. Then he frowned. "But Allen must have been nearly as far away, and you said we'd have been able to reach him in time to save him. It didn't occur to me at the time, but how was that possible?"

"Because I'm still a Noah whether I'm on the Earl's side or not, and as long as that's true, there are certain things I can do that he can't prevent," Lavi said quietly. "Such as accessing the Ark." When Kanda only stared at him blankly, he shrugged. "How did you think the Noah manage to show up all over the damned place, whenever they want to? The Ark is connected to everything, everywhere."

"Then why the hell have we been walking across Asia to catch up with Tiedoll and the others?" Kanda demanded, put out. "With you hardly well enough to travel in the first place?"

Lavi gave him a scornful look. "Think for a minute, Yuu! The Earl knows I can do this. He can't stop me, but he can sure as fuck make it as difficult as possible. He'll have booby traps and ambushes set up all over the damned place, and I can't see inside the Ark from outside it. It won't be as simple as just waltzing in and waltzing right back out again."

"Oh." Kanda blinked, and looked a bit shamed. "That makes sense. But..."

"But to save Allen, or Lenalee, it would be worth the risk," Lavi finished quietly. "At least, I think so, but we already know what will happen if I do something like try to ignore Lenalee's danger for the sake of protecting my own hide." It would send him right back into the kind of moral conflict that had caused him to fall to Noah three days before, and there was no guarantee that Kanda would be able to shock him out of it again. The same tactic might not necessarily work a second time.

"Well, I'm certainly not going to vote that we sit around here having tea while there are Exorcists in danger," Kanda said. "Let's go. What do we have to do?"

Lavi tried not to let his relief show too much. He hadn't really expected Kanda to argue against going, but there was always the possibility. As he had learned the hard way since gaining his powers, there was always a possibility for just about anything to happen - and, bizarrely enough, it was often the least likely futures that were the ones that ended up happening.

"Well, first we break camp," he said, finally releasing his hold on Kanda. "Then we put up a great big 'Here I am, kill me now!' sign on our backs, and head off." Kanda snorted.

Lavi sat up and pushed the blankets aside, reaching for his boots. He was still mostly dressed; they were both too tired after days of hard travelling to do anything but fall asleep when they finally made camp, and anyway neither of them was green enough to make the mistake of being caught vulnerable in the middle of the night if an enemy attacked. Lavi counted himself lucky that Kanda hadn't objected to Lavi curling up right next to him when they slept, and in fact had even unbent enough to sometimes reach for Lavi first.

"Why are you getting so little warning of these things?" Kanda wanted to know as he slipped into his uniform jacket and strapped on his belts. "First Allen, now Lenalee; you've had less than an hour's warning. You knew about the danger to Suman and other things days in advance, sometimes weeks."

"I dunno, and it worries me," Lavi admitted grimly. He pulled his Innocence from its holder and activated it, and was glad to see Kanda do the same. Better to be prepared now than to have to waste precious seconds when they were under attack. "I think maybe the Earl is working to block me somehow, now that he knows what I'm capable of."

"Great. That's just what I wanted to hear," Kanda said sourly. "I'm ready if you are."

Lavi nodded, and hauled his bag over his shoulder. "All right. Grab my left arm, and hang on tight." When he was certain Kanda had a firm grip on him, Lavi took a deep breath and stepped sideways out of reality.

It was a very odd sensation, and he'd never become used to it no matter how many times he'd done it. It felt like somehow being perpendicular to everything, like a stick figure on a flat paper who had stood up and discovered the third dimension.

When the world righted itself again, they were standing in a circular room full of books. Lots of books, enough to put most libraries to shame. The shelves ran all the way up to the ceiling, and that was a good three stories high. Every inch of space was crammed with books, scrolls, tablets, and anything else that could be written on.

Lavi had quite frankly expected to be attacked the moment they appeared, and every muscle in his body was tense as he quickly scanned the room. Everything was just as he had left it, not so much as a single sheet of paper out of place. When nothing jumped out at them after a long minute, he relaxed marginally. "Huh," he said, surprised. "That's weird. No ambush, no traps, and they didn't even trash the place."

Standing a foot away with his own Innocence raised, Kanda was looking around with an expression of mingled wariness and curiosity. "What is this?"

"My room, of course," Lavi said. "What else would a former Bookman do with a room completely under his control, but create a library of every history ever written?" He sighed wistfully as he looked around again. "If there's one thing I really do regret about being exposed as a spy, it's losing access to this room. There are parts of history that aren't in our records - the Bookman is only one man, and he can't be in two places at once. I could've filled in all the gaps, from here."

Kanda glared at him briefly. "Don't get too sentimental over it," the Exorcist said. "I might start to wonder if you're tempted to change your alliance after all."

"Oh, it wouldn't be worth changing sides for real," Lavi replied with forced cheerfulness. "Not quite, anyway."

There was something wrong, something that nagged at him subconsciously and refused to allow him to lower his guard. Something more than just the lack of anticipated traps and enemies. It skittered over his nerves like an itch he couldn't scratch, and it was threatening to drive him nuts. The air seemed to tremble around him, as if with anticipation, yet there was a strangely fragile feeling to everything. It was as if his instincts were trying to tell him the whole place would shatter and blow away into nothing if he put one foot down wrong.

"Let's get out of here. The sooner we're gone, the happier I'll be." Unfortunately, he couldn't just step sideways and leave the same way he'd come in. He didn't have the same level of control as Road or the Earl, and couldn't create a doorway that would go anywhere he wanted it to.

He paused with his hand on the door, checking the path ahead. "Aha, there they are," he said drily. At least a dozen second level Akuma waited just outside his door. They knew he was there somehow - sensed the sudden presence of a Noah nearby, likely. They were all standing tense and alert, ready to spring their trap the moment he opened the door. He wondered why they hadn't been waiting inside the library.

"Guess they couldn't get into my room without me here," he finally decided. It was his space, after all, and the Ark didn't care whose side he was on. The Earl could probably override that, and maybe Road, but they surely had better things to do. He gave Kanda a wide grin and tapped the shaft of his hammer against his palm. "Ready to run the gauntlet, Yuu?"

Kanda gave him a grim smile in return, and tightened his grip on Mugen. "Bring it on."

Lavi whooped and kicked the door open hard enough to break the hinges and send it crashing into the nearest Akuma. "Hi ban!"

The flame snake roared down the hallway, and Akuma exploded in its wake. Some were smart enough to duck out of the way, only to have the Hell's Insects chew through them a moment later.

Lavi and Kanda raced down the hall at full tilt. More Akuma appeared at every intersection, and when they burst through the door to the 'outside', they found a swarm hovering over the empty city. As one they sent their respective second level attacks towards the hoard, the Insects and flame entwining in a deadly dance.

A sense of power rushed through Lavi, and he laughed as he gleefully sent his Innocence towards the next cluster of Akuma. Whatever else Kanda might have thought of him before he'd awakened, Lavi and Kanda had always made a powerfully destructive fighting combo. With Lavi's new ability to predict surprise attacks and anticipate the enemy's tactics, they were damned near invincible.

Still more Akuma poured into the area. Lavi wondered if every second level the Earl had was here. If so, the bastard had made a huge tactical error, because it still wasn't going to be enough to stop him. By the time Lavi and Kanda were done with them, there wouldn't be a single second level left.
Something about that thought nagged at him through the heat of battle and the euphoric sense of inevitable victory. Why had the Earl made such an obvious mistake? Why hadn't one of the other Noah come to direct the Akuma, or fight the Exorcists directly? For that matter, where hell were all the third levels?

Again the feeling of destructive glee surged through Lavi, trying to wash away his concerns, but this time he realized what was causing it. Noah had apparently decided to try subtlety, since brute force coercion wasn't working.

"It's a delaying tactic," he shouted at Kanda, furious with himself for falling for it even momentarily. "The Earl knows I can't use my power to find the right door if I'm busy using it to fight! He's trying to keep us away from the ship long enough to kill the others!"

"Then stop using it to fight, idiot," Kanda replied, as if it should have been obvious.

Lavi hesitated, because not fighting while surrounded by Akuma ran counter to every instinct he had as an Exorcist. He met Kanda's eyes for a brief moment, and nodded. After everything they'd gone through, he couldn't not trust Kanda to watch his back.

Summoning all his discipline as a Bookman, Lavi closed his eyes and willed himself to forget about the battle still raging around him. Futures where Kanda, Lavi, or both of them died because of his inattention tried to grab him, but Lavi shoved those aside too and focused on the present.

This aspect of his powers was the most difficult to invoke, and the least reliable. It was easy to focus on a specific event in history or place in the present and say 'show me that'. Slightly more difficult was peering into the future and saying 'show me what will happen'. But to focus on something as insubstantial as a need and say' show me what I want to find', that was something else again.

Lavi scanned the area, thinking hard about Lenalee and the ship he'd seen in his vision, and on his need to be there. He kept being distracted by the movements of the Akuma, but after a moment he realized that his gaze was being drawn back to a particular street again and again.

"That way," he shouted, pointing. He waited a split second for the Hell's Insects to clear the path, then bolted in the indicated direction. The urge to check the immediate future for traps was almost overwhelming, but Lavi knew that if he lost his focus he might never get it back again.

At the first crossroads he had to stop and do it all over again. It was rather like trying to get directions by playing the children's game of 'hot and cold', and it was incredibly frustrating. Worse, there was a growing sense of urgency in the back of Lavi's mind that he had a sinking feeling was his foresight trying to warn him, but unable to show him an actual vision because he was busy looking at the present.

The sense of impending doom spiked sharply just as they rounded the next corner, so much so that Lavi lost the thread that was leading him to the right door. He cursed under his breath - then swore again loudly when he realized he didn't need it any more. The same third level from his vision was about to pass through one of the doorways.

"Hold it right there!" Lavi commanded in his most authoritative voice. He forced himself to reach out and connect with Noah to a limited extent, drawing on that power to reinforce his words. "That's an order."

The Akuma turned back to face him, and for one second Lavi thought it had actually worked.

Then the monster's skull-like face displayed what could only be called a smirk, and it held up its hands as though looking through them to frame a photograph. "Title: the turncoat has no power."

"Fine, then we'll do this the hard way," Lavi growled, swinging his hammer around and expanding it rapidly. "Hi ban!"

Flames exploded around the Akuma, but when Lavi checked the future he was dismayed to find there wasn't a single one where the Akuma was even damaged. Third levels varied in power considerably; the Earl had obviously picked one of his strongest for the assault on so many Exorcists. Small wonder there was a good chance Lenalee would die or be burned out forever.

The Akuma started to laugh, and Lavi swore again as it stepped out of the flames and vanished through the door. "Oh, no you don't," he snarled, and he plunged through the door after it.

Unfortunately it turned out to be not quite the door he'd wanted. The Akuma could apparently fly; the fact that the door let out fifty feet in the air didn't bother it in the least. Lavi, on the other hand, found himself rapidly plummeting towards the ocean.

With a strangled yelp he rapidly extended his hammer. The head hit the deck with a resounding crash of splintering wood that made him wince. Well, at least it would alert the other Exorcists on the ship that something was wrong. Already he could hear shouts of alarm and warning bells ringing below.

His powers warned him, and he reached out to catch Kanda just as the other man came racing over the threshold. Kanda grunted and clutched at him when he realized how high up they were. "Watch it, that first step is a killer," Lavi said with a trace of his old battle humour.

"Idiot," Kanda retorted, and rolled his eyes. He grabbed the hammer shaft with one hand, and Lavi let go to allow him to slide down to the deck below. The Hell's Insects were already racing out towards the Akuma, but Lavi doubted they would have any more effect than his fire seal.

He didn't follow Kanda immediately; he wanted to be certain that the door to the Ark had closed behind Kanda and would stay closed. The last thing they needed was for that horde of Akuma to come pouring through and make everything even more complicated. They wouldn't be able to open the door again once he'd closed it, thankfully. Only a Noah could do that, unless the Earl specifically granted an Akuma the ability.

Another flash of vision hit him, and he loosened his grip abruptly. He slid down the shaft and the deadly needles that had been aimed straight at him passed harmlessly over his head instead.

"Hey!" he yelled down at the rapidly approaching deck. "Watch where you're aiming, old panda." He ducked to avoid another attack. "Damn it, I'm on your side!"

"If you expect me to believe that..." Bookman started, his eyes narrowed. Lavi hit the deck and swung his hammer around, using his shoulder as a fulcrum to get that much more speed. Bookman threw up his hands and shouted when he saw the hammer heading straight towards him, but his words were drowned out by a sudden hail of fire from more Akuma hidden above the clouds. Lavi was sweating and chilled at the same time; he'd barely managed to expand the hammer head in time to protect Bookman and the others.

"Argue later, fight now," he ordered Bookman, who was still eyeing him suspiciously. "You and Lenalee help Kanda with the third level - Lenalee, no matter what, don't follow it out over the water or high into the air above the boat. Understand?" She nodded, wide-eyed, and he smiled grimly at her. "Krory, you and I are gonna take care of the ones above the clouds, as soon as I move things so we can see 'em."

Krory hesitated for a split second, but another hail of fire seemed to decide him. His face changed from his normal, gentle expression, to one of fierce aggression. "Just tell me what to do," he said, his voice a low growl. "I'm thirsty."

Lavi nodded and turned to shout at the crowd of strangers who had to be the ship's crew. "You lot, man your stations. Keep this ship moving forward!" They shouted assent and scrambled to obey. Lavi struggled not to feel guilty, knowing he'd just sent most of them to their deaths. If he didn't do what he had to, they would all die.

As if in confirmation of his thoughts, almost immediately two of the men were struck by the fire from the hidden Akuma. They fell to the deck, screaming. The giant wheel that hung over the main mast spun slowly, and Lavi winced as he felt the power of Innocence sweep over the ship. To his shock the two men got back to their feet, and even the damage done to the ship seemed to reassemble itself like magic.

Lavi stared, floored. Had an Exorcist with the ability to cure the Akuma virus been found? If so, it was a huge stride forward for the Order.

But every future he could see for those two men showed them dying within the next day at most. Not a cure, then; just a temporary delay. Still, if it kept them at their posts for the duration of the fight, Lavi would thank his lucky stars and mourn them later.

"Boy! Are you here to fight, or woolgather?" Bookman barked, and Lavi remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

"Brace yourself, Kro-chan," he shouted, and formed the ring of second level seals around him. The wood seal was one that he rarely used. Its effect was limited, though very, very powerful when he put it to the right use. Like right now. "Tenchi Bankai!"

A shaft of light speared into the heavens from around his hammer, straight into the clouds. They swirled sluggishly around the beam as if the hand of god had reached down and stirred them, and then they began to disperse.

"Now!" Lavi called, as he caught sight of tiny winking lights far above them that were reflected moonlight on the Akuma's metal skins. "Go, Kro-chan!"

Krory leapt into the air, and Lavi swung his hammer up after the other Exorcist. He expanded the shaft as fast as it would go, and Krory was able to use its momentum to push himself far higher than he would have been able to reach on his own.

Satisfied that those three were taken care of, Lavi turned to join in the fight with the others. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be going well. There had been a slim possibility that Kanda would be able to finish the thing quickly, but this third level was far more powerful than the one Lavi had brought to Barcelona. It resisted all of their attacks, laughing as it either dodged or shook them off like mere irritations.

Worse, both Kanda and Lenalee were moving sluggishly. When Lavi looked closer he saw what looked like glowing chains wrapped around Mugen and the Dark Boots. Kanda was battered and bleeding from a corner of his mouth, but as grimly determined as ever. Lenalee and Bookman oddly didn't seem to be injured at all. Lenalee was still valiantly struggling to attack, though the dance of her Innocence was both less graceful and less deadly than usual.

Even as Lavi watched the monster lashed out and caught Lenalee hard across the chest, sending her flying backward to crash into the mast. She choked and coughed up blood, stunned. Lavi cursed and rushed to help her, but before he could reach her several miniature versions of the giant wheel formed over her body, spinning in place. Her injuries vanished, and she straightened as if she'd never been hurt at all.

"I'm fine, help Kanda," Lenalee waved him off when she saw him coming, and plunged back into the fray.

"I don't need any help," Kanda growled, outraged at the implication. Whatever was healing the ship and crew, it definitely wasn't extending to him. "Nigentou!"

The second 'blade' of ghostly energy formed in his off hand, and Lavi swung his hammer around to the ready position. "Let's beat this bastard," he said, gleeful. There were still futures showing the Akuma winning, but there were now nearly as many where the Exorcists won.

"As if we needed you to tell us that," Kanda said with a sniff of disdain. He charged in after Lenalee, both swords swinging and connecting hard with the Akuma's side.

He staggered it, and Lenalee quickly followed it up with a blow that sent it toppling over onto its side. Bookman seized his chance. "North crime!" he shouted, flicking his fingers at the Akuma.

A deadly rain of needles fell on the monster, and it screamed as they penetrated its tough armour. In moments it looked like a quivering ball of spiked iron, without a single sign of the Akuma visible.

"We did it!" Lenalee cried, and the crew began to cheer raggedly.

Lavi checked the future again, and frowned. There were now more futures that showed the Akuma winning, not less. The key seemed to be how quickly they acted on their advantage. Bookman would try to question it, but there wasn't time for Lavi to warn him.

Bringing his hammer up, he activated the ring of seals once more. He would kill it now before it had a chance to shake off the attack. Bookman could argue with him later about the lost opportunity to gather information. "Goummph!"

He was cut off by a hand covering his mouth, and another grabbed his wrist and stopped him from hitting the seal. An arm was placed strategically over his throat, cutting off his air, and Lavi's immediate attempt to struggle got him nowhere. His assailant had all the leverage.

"Oh, I think not, little brother," a low voice purred into his ear. Lavi froze, his blood running cold. He knew that voice. He rolled his eyes as far to the side as he could, and Tyki obliged him by leaning over Lavi's shoulder until he was visible.

Panicked, Lavi struggled with everything in him to move his hammer, but Tyki was stronger than he was. "Apparently you didn't learn your lesson from our last little discussion," Tyki said, his shark's grin spread over his face. "Shall we go over it again?"

[Fic] A Different Kind Of Symmetry - Soul Eater, Kid/Liz/Patti, Soul/Maka - 2/2

2009-03-03T01:29:54Z

See? I didn't make you wait too long.

Title: A Different Kind Of Symmetry
Series: Soul Eater
Pairing: Kid/Liz/Patti
Rating: NC17
Warning: het, explicit sex, voyeurism, incest? (does it still count as incest if they're having sex with someone at the same time, but not with each other?)
Chapter Length: 5046
Total Length: 11,219

Symmetry has always been the most important part of Kid's life, but maybe there's more to the concept than he realizes.

Not safe for work!

Long after the sounds from Soul and Maka's room had stopped, Liz and Patti found him huddled in front of the mirror. Presumably they'd come in to check on him; he wasn't actually aware of them until Liz put her hands on either side of his face and forced him to look up. Something about what she saw made her look first shocked, then upset. "Oh, Kid," she murmured, her voice breaking. Patti was right behind her, hovering anxiously over her shoulder because Kid had wedged himself into a corner and they couldn't both get at him.

"You're crying," Patti said, reaching out to brush her fingers over his cheek. He felt the wetness there and realized she was right. When had that happened? Recently, if the tears were any indication. Well, it would explain why he'd had so much trouble just trying to breathe, but that meant he'd been crying the whole time he'd been sitting there. He'd been too lost inside his head to even notice.

"That's the third time today, when you haven't been this bad in months," Liz said, the frown on her face a sharp contrast to her gentle tone. "What's going on? Talk to us, Kid. Are we your partners or not?"

"I'm a depraved, horrible person, and I don't deserve to exist," Kid told them miserably. The litany was familiar from frequent repetition, but he'd never meant the words quite as much as he did now. "And this time you'd both agree with me." He was shaking, his guilt and shame too much for him to bear.

"Never!" Patti cried, and flung herself at him, shoving her sister out of the way. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. "Never, never, never! Nobody's allowed to say stuff like that about our Kid!"

"Not even you," Liz added dryly.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew what I'd done." Kid clenched his hands on his knees, trying to pull himself in even tighter. Patti was having none of it, pushing herself on him until he had to either move his legs to let her into his lap or suffocate.

Of course, the moment he relented and uncurled enough for her to sit, he was excruciatingly aware that his pants were still undone and he was a mess. Patti either didn't notice or didn't care - it was hard to tell with her, sometimes.

The shift in position allowed Liz to settle in beside him, her shoulder against his but her body turned so she could see his face. "Try us," she challenged him, one eyebrow lifted.

"I..." Kid was very tempted to lie, or just refuse to answer. But they were his partners, and he'd seen too many painful examples over the years at Shibusen of why it was a bad idea to keep secrets from your partner. Better they find out now, from him, than later in some other way. If they wanted to leave him, he wouldn't blame them or try to stop them.

"I used the mirror to spy on Soul and Maka having sex," he admitted, hunching in on himself as much as he could with Patti snuggled up to his chest.

There was no immediate outcry of disgust. They didn't even recoil from him. To his shock, Patti's first reaction was to punch the air and cheer. "Yay! I knew it! Soul and Maka, sitting in a tree..."

"And you didn't invite us to watch?" Liz demanded. He wasn't sure if her indignation was false or not. It certainly looked real.

"Liz!" he protested, scandalized. Bad enough that he had done it. He certainly wouldn't have invited the two of them to join him in his depravity.

"Can we watch next time?" Patti asked with every semblance of innocence. Only the wicked gleam in her eyes made him certain that she knew exactly what she was asking.

"Patti!" Kid hardly knew how to handle this. Neither of them had the particular amused tilt to their lips that he'd learned meant they were just ruffling his feathers, but they couldn't be serious. Could they? If they were teasing him, the joke was in extremely bad taste.

Liz laughed, and slung an arm over his shoulders. "If you were looking for an outraged moral reaction, you're talking to the wrong people. Remember how we met?"

"Gimme yer money," Patti said, aiming her hand at him like a gun. "Bang!"

"B-but..." Kid sputtered, completely thrown.

"Not to mention we just came home considerably richer than we started the night, and not a single casino caught us cheating," Liz added smugly. Patti blew a raspberry, presumably indicating her opinion of the casino security teams.

"But...!"

"But, nothing." Liz grinned and hugged him a little tighter. "What, did you think we'd cry 'shame on you!' and storm off in a huff? Please. You'll have to do a lot worse than a little harmless voyeurism to chase us off."

"I doubt Soul and Maka would consider it 'harmless'," Kid pointed out sourly.

"Okay, I wouldn't tell them about it, no," Liz agreed. "But their reaction isn't relevant. Hell, Kid, I wouldn't care if you'd been spying on us having sex. It's still not anywhere near enough to drive us away."

"You?" Kid looked back and forth between them, startled. He knew they were close, but he hadn't thought they were that close.

"No, not like that, twit." Liz thumped his shoulder. "It was a general statement. We're not sleeping with each other."

"But we're real good at sharing." Patti's voice had an unusual note in it - almost like she was purring. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in close. Her grin was less playful than usual, and a great deal more predatory. The sisters exchanged a glance that he couldn't interpret. They were good at that, holding entire conversations sometimes without saying a single word. It occasionally drove him crazy, but tonight it made him nervous for some reason.

Liz shifted so she could drape herself over his shoulder and murmur right into his ear. "So? What did you think?"

"Th-think?" he repeated, a little startled by the seeming non-sequitur. He wasn't used to having them quite this close to him. Patti had moved so she was straddling his legs, which made him far too aware of the state of his clothing, and Liz's new position pressed her breasts against his side.

"Of the show?" she prompted him. "Was it hot?"

Patti wiggled in his lap, making him gasp. "I think he liked it," she giggled. "No fair! He did have too much fun without us."

"It wasn't fun," Kid protested, trying not to think of how much he had enjoyed it at the time. She wiggled again, and he grabbed her waist to try to hold her still. His body was still sensitive from what he'd been doing earlier, and the friction of her rough shorts against the soft skin of his cock was causing a reaction. The feel of the warm, bare skin of her midriff didn't help, either.

"Oh yeah?" Patti stuck her tongue out. "Liar, liar, pants on fire." Then to his shock she reached down and slipped her hand right into his open fly, running curious fingers over his shaft.

He jerked, startled, but her weight kept him in place. Teeth closed on his ear, and tugged lightly at the delicate skin. "I'm inclined to believe Patti, given what's dried all over the mirror," Liz teased him, her voice a husky purr that matched Patti's earlier tone.

He flushed again, both from embarrassment and in reaction to what they were doing to him. "Wh-why..." He broke off with a gasp when Liz trailed her mouth down to bite at his throat instead. He remembered Soul mouthing Maka in the same spot, and moaned.

"Ooh, he likes that," Liz said, licking the place one last time before looking up to grin at her sister. "That's one for me."

"He likes this, too," Patti said, stroking her fingers over his cock again. "And I made him squirm first. Two for me."

"Guess I'll just have to work hard to catch up," Liz said, and didn't sound dismayed by the prospect. She ran one hand over Kid's chest, her fingers working on the fastenings of his jacket.

"What are you doing?" Kid demanded, and his voice cracked on the last word as Patti squeezed him.

"Seducing you, dummy," Patti said airily, somehow still managing to look completely innocent despite the hand she had down his pants.

"Since it's working," Liz said, nibbling at his ear again. "We were starting to believe you just weren't interested in sex, or something."

"We waited and waited and waited and waited," Patti huffed, pouting in exasperation.

"But you never made a move." Liz succeeded in opening his jacket and dress shirt, and slid her hand over the bare skin of his chest. Her fingers found and tweaked a nipple, making him moan again. "Two for me! And there are all those rumours about how Shinigami-sama must have budded you or cloned himself or whatever. I thought maybe we were too human for you."

"What?" Kid exclaimed, momentarily distracted from what they were doing by the idea of his honoured father cloning him. "That's ridiculous. We... ah!"

Patti grinned at her sister. "Three for me," she chirped, and rubbed her thumb over his slit again.

"Who knew you were just shy?" Liz said, amused, pinching the nipple once more and then scraping her long nails down his chest hard enough to leave a mark behind. He groaned and threw his head back, arching into the touch helplessly. "Hmm, teeth and nails. I think maybe he likes it a little rough, Patti."

Patti giggled, and though it was the same sound she always made, now Kid heard undertones of something that definitely wasn't childlike. "Lucky us," she said, and ducked her head to bite down on the nipple Liz had been tormenting. At the same time Liz moved her hand down to join her sister's on Kid's cock, and together they stroked him slowly.

With a strangled shout Kid rocked his hips into their touch, completely lost under the spell they were weaving around him. Now he knew how Maka had felt, and what had put that drugged look of ecstasy on her face.

Slowly, not quite believing this was actually happening, Kid moved his hands up from Patti's waist. When his fingers brushed the bottom of her shirt, he slipped his thumbs beneath the stretchy material to rub over the skin just beneath her breasts. He held his breath the whole time, half expecting one of them to slug him for taking liberties like they usually did when he unthinkingly got too personal.

Instead Patti gave a breathless moan that made Kid's cock throb, and she shifted in an obvious effort to get him to move higher. He obliged her, pushing her shirt up and cupping her full breasts in his hands, thumbs teasing the stiff nipples.

She squirmed and stopped biting and licking his chest to smirk up at Liz. "I win," she declared smugly.

"Bullshit you do," Liz retorted. "This isn't over yet. We're just getting started."

"I think I'm the one who's winning, actually," Kid said, dazed. He released Patti with one hand and caught Liz by the back of the neck, tugging until she was close enough for him to lean in and kiss her.

Remembering the fierce passion Soul had showed, and the way it had made Maka react, Kid did his best to put everything he was feeling into the embrace. Awe and wonder warred with desire and need, with a healthy dose of lust and even love mixed in. She moaned and melted against him, opening her mouth and tangling her tongue with his but letting him dominate the kiss. She tasted of wine and faintly of gunmetal, and he'd never experienced anything so intoxicating.

When he finally pulled back she gasped and half-collapsed against his shoulder, panting for air. "Oh, wow," she said, and now she was the one who sounded dazed. "Patti, you have got to try that. Where the fuck did you learn to kiss like that, Kid?"

"No fair! My turn!" Patti pushed Liz out of the way and fastened her mouth to Kid's before he could answer. Unlike her sister she took charge of the embrace immediately, biting at his lip and sucking on his tongue when he slid it into her mouth. Her taste was gunmetal and sugar, and it was just as addicting as Liz had been. His feelings for her were equally as intense, and again he tried to communicate all of it through the inadequate means of the kiss.

"Whooee," Patti said when she was forced to come up for air. She blinked rapidly, then grinned. "Again!"

"Oh, no you don't," Liz cut her off before she could kiss Kid again, and elbowed her out of the way. "You had your turn, now he's mine again."

"Hey!" Kid protested being fought over like a favourite toy, but he was laughing as well. "I thought you said you were good at sharing."

"We're not having a catfight to see who gets to keep you to herself, are we?" Liz pointed out loftily, one eyebrow raised. "Good enough. Now stop talking and kiss me again, damn it. I've waited way too fucking long for this."

Technically she kissed him first, but it hardly mattered who initiated the embrace. Kid slid his hand down from her neck over her back, which made her squeal against his mouth and shiver. When his hand reached the waist of her low-riding pants she moaned. He tried to work his fingers under the fabric as he'd done with Patti's shirt, but there was no room. He had to settle for cupping the curve of her ass through the material, but even that was enough to make her shudder.

"God damned tight pants," she muttered when she broke away. "Why do you make us wear these stupid matching outfits, anyway?"

"Mine aren't tight," Patti gloated. " 'Specially not now." She threw her shorts at Liz, and only then did Kid realize she'd taken the opportunity to strip down while he was preoccupied with Liz. Now she sat naked in his lap, totally unashamed and unabashed. Her large breasts gave the lie to her childlike appearance, as did the heavy-lidded look of desire on her face. Kid gasped as she grabbed his cock again and positioned herself, the muscles in her thighs bunching as she slowly lowered herself onto his shaft.

The tight, wet heat of her body was unlike anything Kid had ever felt before, and he cried out and fought the urge to thrust up. He didn't want to hurt her, and he knew it could be especially painful for girls the first time. Assuming this was her first time. He was starting to wonder, given just how good they both were at seducing him.

"Ahhh! Patti, you cheated!" Liz exclaimed. Patti just made a smug noise and tipped her head back as she came to rest against his lap again, this time with his cock buried inside her. Her whole face was glowing with pleasure, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, and they both moaned when the slight change in position let him press that much deeper into her body.

"Hmph. See if I let you get his lap again anytime soon." Liz reached for the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up over her head, baring her upper body to his view as well. She shook her head, letting her long hair drift over her shoulders to drape appealingly over her breasts, half hiding them. Somehow the teasing glimpses he got were even sexier than seeing them outright.

The sense of something wrong tugged at Kid's mind despite the fog created by the incredible feel of Patti squeezing around him. It was a familiar pull, a feeling that something was badly out of balance and needed to be fixed, right now. It was too strong for him to ignore or brush off, but he was confused. Granted the position the three of them were in was hardly symmetrical, but it hadn't been bothering him two seconds ago. He fought it, irritated that it was distracting him from what might well be the most important thing he'd ever done in his life.

Then Liz undid her pants and slid a hand inside, and Kid understood what was unbalanced. Liz thought Patti had 'won', and in winning had left Liz locked out of the circle of intimacy. She meant to get herself off while watching them have sex, just as he had done earlier with Soul and Maka.

Having experienced that for himself, Kid knew the last thing he wanted to do was inflict Liz with the achingly lonely sensation of being just on the outside of something you wanted badly to be part of. "No," he said, his voice rasping in his throat as he struggled to focus. "Liz, Patti, stop."

Liz froze with a startled whimper, her hand still down the front of her pants. Patti squirmed unhappily in his lap until he tightened his arms to stop her, but the motion meant he had to pause for a moment to gather his thoughts before he could continue. "Not like this," he finally managed to say, shaking his head. "We do this together or not at all, same as we do everything else."

"Huh?" Liz looked confused, and Patti's eyes went very wide.

"Do you have two?" the younger girl exclaimed, and reached behind her to pat at the crotch of his pants like she expected to find a second cock hidden in the loose fabric there.

"No, of course not," Kid snorted. He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth so he could kiss the palm briefly, then he reached for Liz again. "Take your pants off and come here," he demanded. "I want to taste you."

A delicate flush swept over her face. He was fascinated to see that it went all the way down to her breasts, turning the creamy skin a beautiful shade of rosy pink. Her dusky nipples crinkled and pulled into tight little peaks, and he brushed his fingers against one just to hear her gasp. She moaned and scrambled to shed the rest of her clothes.

Patti tried again to squirm, and Kid held her still and gave her a stern look. She pouted at him, but he'd developed a certain immunity to her pouts long ago. He struggled not to show how easily she could break his control just by moving like that again; it was already taking everything he had not to flip her over and thrust into her as hard and fast as Soul had taken Maka.

Liz climbed into his lap in front of her sister, and the look on her face was almost shy. He put one hand on her hip and urged her up onto her knees, which put her slick curls right in front of his face. She smelled just like she tasted, and Kid leaned forward tentatively to place his mouth against her. She gasped and arched her back, one hand braced against the mirror to steady herself and the other tangling in his hair to hold him in place. Not that he needed the encouragement, not when she tasted even better here than her mouth, and every tiny flick of his tongue and scrape of his teeth made her moan and shudder.

Clearly growing impatient, Patti wrapped her arms around her sister from behind and buried her face between Liz's shoulder blades. She wriggled again, too hard for Kid to hold her still this time, and he gave in to what they both wanted so badly and released her. With a pleased noise she lifted herself up, then sank back onto him again before repeating the motion. Kid gasped, which made Liz moan again and rock against him.

Kid's tongue found a harder bit of flesh among the hot folds, and Liz made a noise that was closer to a scream than a moan. Belatedly it occurred to him that Soul and Maka could undoubtedly hear everything they were doing, but he dismissed the thought the moment it came to him. He'd worry about it later. He focused his attention on the sensitive place he'd found, and Liz rewarded him by tightening her hand in his hair almost to the point of pain and pushing herself against his mouth.

That made Patti giggle for some reason. "Lizzie is se~xy," the younger girl chanted, matching the rhythm of her movements to her words. "Sex, sexy, sexy sex!"

Liz laughed, the sound shaky and breathless. "Too bad you can't see the mirror now, Kid," she said, flexing her fingers in his hair. "Bet it's a lot hotter than Soul and Maka were."

For a moment Kid did regret it, because from this angle he couldn't see anything and he could only imagine what their expressions would be right now. But there would be plenty of chances for him to see it if he had anything to say about it, and it didn't seem like they'd be inclined to argue with him.

Moaning again, Liz rocked her hips a little harder against him. He responded by flicking his tongue repeatedly against that sensitive place, and let her feel just the edge of his teeth as well. The trembling in her body became shudders, and this time she did scream as she threw her head back and strained against him. He pressed harder, and her hips bucked. "Enough! Enough," she pleaded, though she made no move to pull away first. "Oh god, Kid, please, I can't take it. Enough!" She screamed again when he closed his teeth gently on the nub, and he felt the muscles in her thighs and stomach tighten.

"I don't think he believes you," Patti snickered. She slowed her pace, teasing them both and making Kid moan. Liz shrieked, and this time she did jerk her hips out of his reach. Kid fell back against the mirror, panting for breath and, he was fairly certain, grinning like an idiot.

Liz slid out of his lap, but before he could protest the loss she climbed right back on again, behind Patti this time. She put her hands on her sister's waist, supporting and encouraging her. "You are one hell of a son of a bitch, Death the Kid," she said breathlessly, smiling at him over Patti's shoulder. "And I mean that in the nicest possible way."

"Touch me now," Patti demanded, increasing her pace again. "My turn, Kid!"

"Say 'please'," Liz teased her, and Patti stuck her tongue out and rocked her hips hard to make Kid gasp again.

"Close enough," he declared, and reached eagerly for her. Her breast felt heavy in his hand, and she squirmed and moaned when he thumbed the nipple. He slid the fingers of his other hand through her slick curls, and she squealed and shuddered. He found the same hard nub of flesh that Liz had, and it seemed to be just as sensitive a spot on Patti. She leaned back against Liz and moved faster, matching the rhythm of his fingers against her.

He released her breast and wrapped his arm around her waist, his hand resting on Liz's hip to make sure she was still included. Liz moaned, her eyes half closed but watching them all in the mirror. The look of smug satisfaction on her face, combined with Patti's expression of frantic pleasure and need, was the most erotic, appealing thing Kid had ever seen, but he was having trouble concentrating on it. Patti felt too good, her body hot and slick and tight around his cock, and now that he wasn't distracted by Liz it was overwhelming him.

Their weight kept him from moving much, but he rocked his hips up into her thrusts as best he could. He ached to be able to drive into her hard and fast, and resolved that next time he was going to be the one on top.

Then all thought was swept from his mind as the world splintered, and everything exploded. He gave a strangled shout as his muscles tightened, arching up as hard and deep into Patti as he could manage. She gave a little cry as well, letting herself rest in his lap but grinding against his fingers to remind him that he was supposed to be moving them. Reflexively Kid flicked his fingers over her again, not really aware of what he was doing as the world slowly resolved itself around him again.

Something he did made Patti scream, and then she was shuddering and convulsing around him, her whole body shaking with the force of what had to be her orgasm. Kid groaned and pushed up into her, wanting more of that incredible sensation even though he'd just come.
Patti was squirming again, her hands scrabbling at his chest like she was searching for something to hold onto. Liz wrapped her arms around her sister's waist and held on tight, supporting her. Patti kept making little mewling noises of need and pleasure, her face flushed with ecstasy. For once she looked her true age, and Kid thought she was more beautiful than ever.

Dropping one hand, Liz caught Kid's wrist and pulled him away from her sister. "Enough, Kid," she murmured with a soft laugh. "You're going to drive her insane. You do like teasing us, don't you?"

"Do I?" he asked somewhat vaguely, too giddy and limp with pleasure to think properly. Patti collapsed against his chest, bracing herself on her forearms and panting, her face inches from his. Liz draped herself over her sister, and Kid didn't mind in the least having both their weight on him.

Looking into their eyes, he saw a depth of love and need that easily rivalled the intensity in Soul's expression before. With a sense of wonder, he finally understood just what it was about Soul and Maka that had drawn him so strongly. It wasn't really the erotic aspect of watching them together, though that had certainly played a part. It was the beauty of their feelings for each other, as their souls resonated together so well they became a perfect match. Different, and yet balanced. What he had done by spying on them was ugly and sinful because it was unreciprocated, throwing everything out of balance and degrading the beauty of their symmetry in the process.

He chuckled, then started to laugh helplessly. In that moment he realized two very important things. The first was that Maka was right - he was lonely, a soul-crushing loneliness that had been with him for so long he'd never realized it was there. Small wonder he'd been so desperately drawn to the image of Soul and Maka together. It was a glimpse into a world he'd only been vaguely aware of, like a window he could peer through to see a paradise he longed for so badly it hurt.

The second thing he realized was that he was a complete and utter idiot, because the answer to that loneliness was sitting right in his lap, and had been there for years if only he'd noticed. He didn't need to intrude on Soul and Maka's private moments to experience that balance - that love - vicariously. He had the real thing right here, twofold. Even the fact that there were an odd number of people didn't throw the balance off, because all three of them matched each other's feelings.

"What's so funny?" Liz asked, startled.

"Perfect symmetry," he said, reaching up with one shaking hand to caress first her cheek, then Patti's. "Right in front of me all along, and I never saw it."

"No we're not," Patti mumbled around a yawn, snuggling in a little closer. "We don' match right 'less we're guns."

"Perfect," Kid insisted, and smiled. "But don't go to sleep here, Patti. There's a nice big bed right over there, and we'll all be much more comfortable in it. Stay with me tonight?"

Patti gave a sleepy cheer and kissed him soundly. Liz stretched and purred at him. "I thought you'd never ask. C'mon, Patti. The bed will definitely be more comfortable." She pulled away from him and stood, then tugged Patti up as well. Kid gasped when he slid out of her body, the cool air a shock after her intense heat.

"Aww, but I like cuddling on him," Patti complained.

"You'll like it more in a moment," Kid promised her, and shed his now thoroughly dirty clothes before he crawled into the bed after the sisters. It took them a few tries to find a position that suited all three of them, but they finally settled with Liz and Kid facing each other, heads together and arms loosely over each other's waists, cradling the smaller Patti between them. It wasn't symmetrical, but Kid decided that for just this one thing, he really didn't care. The symmetry of their souls was enough to make up for it.

Kid wondered if there was any possible way he could thank Soul and Maka. If not for his brief obsession with them, his eyes might never have been opened to the possibilities before him. If only all his obsessions were as easy to shake as this one had turned out to be, and as rewarding.

In the end, however, he decided that discretion was definitely the better part of valour in this case. Soul and Maka were better off not knowing - especially if he didn't want Soul to rip out his vital organs. It would never happen again, that was the important thing.

"So, are you going to let us watch with you next time?" Liz asked as if reading his mind, her eyes sparkling as she grinned at him over Patti's head.

"Liz!"

"Yay, we can make it a game! Let's see who gets off first!"

"Patti!"See? I didn't make you wait too long.

Title: A Different Kind Of Symmetry
Series: Soul Eater
Pairing: Kid/Liz/Patti
Rating: NC17
Warning: het, explicit sex, voyeurism, incest? (does it still count as incest if they're having sex with someone at the same time, but not with each other?)
Chapter Length: 5046
Total Length: 11,219

Symmetry has always been the most important part of Kid's life, but maybe there's more to the concept than he realizes.

Not safe for work!

Long after the sounds from Soul and Maka's room had stopped, Liz and Patti found him huddled in front of the mirror. Presumably they'd come in to check on him; he wasn't actually aware of them until Liz put her hands on either side of his face and forced him to look up. Something about what she saw made her look first shocked, then upset. "Oh, Kid," she murmured, her voice breaking. Patti was right behind her, hovering anxiously over her shoulder because Kid had wedged himself into a corner and they couldn't both get at him.

"You're crying," Patti said, reaching out to brush her fingers over his cheek. He felt the wetness there and realized she was right. When had that happened? Recently, if the tears were any indication. Well, it would explain why he'd had so much trouble just trying to breathe, but that meant he'd been crying the whole time he'd been sitting there. He'd been too lost inside his head to even notice.

"That's the third time today, when you haven't been this bad in months," Liz said, the frown on her face a sharp contrast to her gentle tone. "What's going on? Talk to us, Kid. Are we your partners or not?"

"I'm a depraved, horrible person, and I don't deserve to exist," Kid told them miserably. The litany was familiar from frequent repetition, but he'd never meant the words quite as much as he did now. "And this time you'd both agree with me." He was shaking, his guilt and shame too much for him to bear.

"Never!" Patti cried, and flung herself at him, shoving her sister out of the way. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. "Never, never, never! Nobody's allowed to say stuff like that about our Kid!"

"Not even you," Liz added dryly.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew what I'd done." Kid clenched his hands on his knees, trying to pull himself in even tighter. Patti was having none of it, pushing herself on him until he had to either move his legs to let her into his lap or suffocate.

Of course, the moment he relented and uncurled enough for her to sit, he was excruciatingly aware that his pants were still undone and he was a mess. Patti either didn't notice or didn't care - it was hard to tell with her, sometimes.

The shift in position allowed Liz to settle in beside him, her shoulder against his but her body turned so she could see his face. "Try us," she challenged him, one eyebrow lifted.

"I..." Kid was very tempted to lie, or just refuse to answer. But they were his partners, and he'd seen too many painful examples over the years at Shibusen of why it was a bad idea to keep secrets from your partner. Better they find out now, from him, than later in some other way. If they wanted to leave him, he wouldn't blame them or try to stop them.

"I used the mirror to spy on Soul and Maka having sex," he admitted, hunching in on himself as much as he could with Patti snuggled up to his chest.

There was no immediate outcry of disgust. They didn't even recoil from him. To his shock, Patti's first reaction was to punch the air and cheer. "Yay! I knew it! Soul and Maka, sitting in a tree..."

"And you didn't invite us to watch?" Liz demanded. He wasn't sure if her indignation was false or not. It certainly looked real.

"Liz!" he protested, scandalized. Bad enough that he had done it. He certainly wouldn't have invited the two of them to join him in his depravity.

"Can we watch next time?" Patti asked with every semblance of innocence. Only the wicked gleam in her eyes made him certain that she knew exactly what she was asking.

"Patti!" Kid hardly knew how to handle this. Neither of them had the particular amused tilt to their lips that he'd learned meant they were just ruffling his feathers, but they couldn't be serious. Could they? If they were teasing him, the joke was in extremely bad taste.

Liz laughed, and slung an arm over his shoulders. "If you were looking for an outraged moral reaction, you're talking to the wrong people. Remember how we met?"

"Gimme yer money," Patti said, aiming her hand at him like a gun. "Bang!"

"B-but..." Kid sputtered, completely thrown.

"Not to mention we just came home considerably richer than we started the night, and not a single casino caught us cheating," Liz added smugly. Patti blew a raspberry, presumably indicating her opinion of the casino security teams.

"But...!"

"But, nothing." Liz grinned and hugged him a little tighter. "What, did you think we'd cry 'shame on you!' and storm off in a huff? Please. You'll have to do a lot worse than a little harmless voyeurism to chase us off."

"I doubt Soul and Maka would consider it 'harmless'," Kid pointed out sourly.

"Okay, I wouldn't tell them about it, no," Liz agreed. "But their reaction isn't relevant. Hell, Kid, I wouldn't care if you'd been spying on us having sex. It's still not anywhere near enough to drive us away."

"You?" Kid looked back and forth between them, startled. He knew they were close, but he hadn't thought they were that close.

"No, not like that, twit." Liz thumped his shoulder. "It was a general statement. We're not sleeping with each other."

"But we're real good at sharing." Patti's voice had an unusual note in it - almost like she was purring. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in close. Her grin was less playful than usual, and a great deal more predatory. The sisters exchanged a glance that he couldn't interpret. They were good at that, holding entire conversations sometimes without saying a single word. It occasionally drove him crazy, but tonight it made him nervous for some reason.

Liz shifted so she could drape herself over his shoulder and murmur right into his ear. "So? What did you think?"

"Th-think?" he repeated, a little startled by the seeming non-sequitur. He wasn't used to having them quite this close to him. Patti had moved so she was straddling his legs, which made him far too aware of the state of his clothing, and Liz's new position pressed her breasts against his side.

"Of the show?" she prompted him. "Was it hot?"

Patti wiggled in his lap, making him gasp. "I think he liked it," she giggled. "No fair! He did have too much fun without us."

"It wasn't fun," Kid protested, trying not to think of how much he had enjoyed it at the time. She wiggled again, and he grabbed her waist to try to hold her still. His body was still sensitive from what he'd been doing earlier, and the friction of her rough shorts against the soft skin of his cock was causing a reaction. The feel of the warm, bare skin of her midriff didn't help, either.

"Oh yeah?" Patti stuck her tongue out. "Liar, liar, pants on fire." Then to his shock she reached down and slipped her hand right into his open fly, running curious fingers over his shaft.

He jerked, startled, but her weight kept him in place. Teeth closed on his ear, and tugged lightly at the delicate skin. "I'm inclined to believe Patti, given what's dried all over the mirror," Liz teased him, her voice a husky purr that matched Patti's earlier tone.

He flushed again, both from embarrassment and in reaction to what they were doing to him. "Wh-why..." He broke off with a gasp when Liz trailed her mouth down to bite at his throat instead. He remembered Soul mouthing Maka in the same spot, and moaned.

"Ooh, he likes that," Liz said, licking the place one last time before looking up to grin at her sister. "That's one for me."

"He likes this, too," Patti said, stroking her fingers over his cock again. "And I made him squirm first. Two for me."

"Guess I'll just have to work hard to catch up," Liz said, and didn't sound dismayed by the prospect. She ran one hand over Kid's chest, her fingers working on the fastenings of his jacket.

"What are you doing?" Kid demanded, and his voice cracked on the last word as Patti squeezed him.

"Seducing you, dummy," Patti said airily, somehow still managing to look completely innocent despite the hand she had down his pants.

"Since it's working," Liz said, nibbling at his ear again. "We were starting to believe you just weren't interested in sex, or something."

"We waited and waited and waited and waited," Patti huffed, pouting in exasperation.

"But you never made a move." Liz succeeded in opening his jacket and dress shirt, and slid her hand over the bare skin of his chest. Her fingers found and tweaked a nipple, making him moan again. "Two for me! And there are all those rumours about how Shinigami-sama must have budded you or cloned himself or whatever. I thought maybe we were too human for you."

"What?" Kid exclaimed, momentarily distracted from what they were doing by the idea of his honoured father cloning him. "That's ridiculous. We... ah!"

Patti grinned at her sister. "Three for me," she chirped, and rubbed her thumb over his slit again.

"Who knew you were just shy?" Liz said, amused, pinching the nipple once more and then scraping her long nails down his chest hard enough to leave a mark behind. He groaned and threw his head back, arching into the touch helplessly. "Hmm, teeth and nails. I think maybe he likes it a little rough, Patti."

Patti giggled, and though it was the same sound she always made, now Kid heard undertones of something that definitely wasn't childlike. "Lucky us," she said, and ducked her head to bite down on the nipple Liz had been tormenting. At the same time Liz moved her hand down to join her sister's on Kid's cock, and together they stroked him slowly.

With a strangled shout Kid rocked his hips into their touch, completely lost under the spell they were weaving around him. Now he knew how Maka had felt, and what had put that drugged look of ecstasy on her face.

Slowly, not quite believing this was actually happening, Kid moved his hands up from Patti's waist. When his fingers brushed the bottom of her shirt, he slipped his thumbs beneath the stretchy material to rub over the skin just beneath her breasts. He held his breath the whole time, half expecting one of them to slug him for taking liberties like they usually did when he unthinkingly got too personal.

Instead Patti gave a breathless moan that made Kid's cock throb, and she shifted in an obvious effort to get him to move higher. He obliged her, pushing her shirt up and cupping her full breasts in his hands, thumbs teasing the stiff nipples.

She squirmed and stopped biting and licking his chest to smirk up at Liz. "I win," she declared smugly.

"Bullshit you do," Liz retorted. "This isn't over yet. We're just getting started."

"I think I'm the one who's winning, actually," Kid said, dazed. He released Patti with one hand and caught Liz by the back of the neck, tugging until she was close enough for him to lean in and kiss her.

Remembering the fierce passion Soul had showed, and the way it had made Maka react, Kid did his best to put everything he was feeling into the embrace. Awe and wonder warred with desire and need, with a healthy dose of lust and even love mixed in. She moaned and melted against him, opening her mouth and tangling her tongue with his but letting him dominate the kiss. She tasted of wine and faintly of gunmetal, and he'd never experienced anything so intoxicating.

When he finally pulled back she gasped and half-collapsed against his shoulder, panting for air. "Oh, wow," she said, and now she was the one who sounded dazed. "Patti, you have got to try that. Where the fuck did you learn to kiss like that, Kid?"

"No fair! My turn!" Patti pushed Liz out of the way and fastened her mouth to Kid's before he could answer. Unlike her sister she took charge of the embrace immediately, biting at his lip and sucking on his tongue when he slid it into her mouth. Her taste was gunmetal and sugar, and it was just as addicting as Liz had been. His feelings for her were equally as intense, and again he tried to communicate all of it through the inadequate means of the kiss.

"Whooee," Patti said when she was forced to come up for air. She blinked rapidly, then grinned. "Again!"

"Oh, no you don't," Liz cut her off before she could kiss Kid again, and elbowed her out of the way. "You had your turn, now he's mine again."

"Hey!" Kid protested being fought over like a favourite toy, but he was laughing as well. "I thought you said you were good at sharing."

"We're not having a catfight to see who gets to keep you to herself, are we?" Liz pointed out loftily, one eyebrow raised. "Good enough. Now stop talking and kiss me again, damn it. I've waited way too fucking long for this."

Technically she kissed him first, but it hardly mattered who initiated the embrace. Kid slid his hand down from her neck over her back, which made her squeal against his mouth and shiver. When his hand reached the waist of her low-riding pants she moaned. He tried to work his fingers under the fabric as he'd done with Patti's shirt, but there was no room. He had to settle for cupping the curve of her ass through the material, but even that was enough to make her shudder.

"God damned tight pants," she muttered when she broke away. "Why do you make us wear these stupid matching outfits, anyway?"

"Mine aren't tight," Patti gloated. " 'Specially not now." She threw her shorts at Liz, and only then did Kid realize she'd taken the opportunity to strip down while he was preoccupied with Liz. Now she sat naked in his lap, totally unashamed and unabashed. Her large breasts gave the lie to her childlike appearance, as did the heavy-lidded look of desire on her face. Kid gasped as she grabbed his cock again and positioned herself, the muscles in her thighs bunching as she slowly lowered herself onto his shaft.

The tight, wet heat of her body was unlike anything Kid had ever felt before, and he cried out and fought the urge to thrust up. He didn't want to hurt her, and he knew it could be especially painful for girls the first time. Assuming this was her first time. He was starting to wonder, given just how good they both were at seducing him.

"Ahhh! Patti, you cheated!" Liz exclaimed. Patti just made a smug noise and tipped her head back as she came to rest against his lap again, this time with his cock buried inside her. Her whole face was glowing with pleasure, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, and they both moaned when the slight change in position let him press that much deeper into her body.

"Hmph. See if I let you get his lap again anytime soon." Liz reached for the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up over her head, baring her upper body to his view as well. She shook her head, letting her long hair drift over her shoulders to drape appealingly over her breasts, half hiding them. Somehow the teasing glimpses he got were even sexier than seeing them outright.

The sense of something wrong tugged at Kid's mind despite the fog created by the incredible feel of Patti squeezing around him. It was a familiar pull, a feeling that something was badly out of balance and needed to be fixed, right now. It was too strong for him to ignore or brush off, but he was confused. Granted the position the three of them were in was hardly symmetrical, but it hadn't been bothering him two seconds ago. He fought it, irritated that it was distracting him from what might well be the most important thing he'd ever done in his life.

Then Liz undid her pants and slid a hand inside, and Kid understood what was unbalanced. Liz thought Patti had 'won', and in winning had left Liz locked out of the circle of intimacy. She meant to get herself off while watching them have sex, just as he had done earlier with Soul and Maka.

Having experienced that for himself, Kid knew the last thing he wanted to do was inflict Liz with the achingly lonely sensation of being just on the outside of something you wanted badly to be part of. "No," he said, his voice rasping in his throat as he struggled to focus. "Liz, Patti, stop."

Liz froze with a startled whimper, her hand still down the front of her pants. Patti squirmed unhappily in his lap until he tightened his arms to stop her, but the motion meant he had to pause for a moment to gather his thoughts before he could continue. "Not like this," he finally managed to say, shaking his head. "We do this together or not at all, same as we do everything else."

"Huh?" Liz looked confused, and Patti's eyes went very wide.

"Do you have two?" the younger girl exclaimed, and reached behind her to pat at the crotch of his pants like she expected to find a second cock hidden in the loose fabric there.

"No, of course not," Kid snorted. He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth so he could kiss the palm briefly, then he reached for Liz again. "Take your pants off and come here," he demanded. "I want to taste you."

A delicate flush swept over her face. He was fascinated to see that it went all the way down to her breasts, turning the creamy skin a beautiful shade of rosy pink. Her dusky nipples crinkled and pulled into tight little peaks, and he brushed his fingers against one just to hear her gasp. She moaned and scrambled to shed the rest of her clothes.

Patti tried again to squirm, and Kid held her still and gave her a stern look. She pouted at him, but he'd developed a certain immunity to her pouts long ago. He struggled not to show how easily she could break his control just by moving like that again; it was already taking everything he had not to flip her over and thrust into her as hard and fast as Soul had taken Maka.

Liz climbed into his lap in front of her sister, and the look on her face was almost shy. He put one hand on her hip and urged her up onto her knees, which put her slick curls right in front of his face. She smelled just like she tasted, and Kid leaned forward tentatively to place his mouth against her. She gasped and arched her back, one hand braced against the mirror to steady herself and the other tangling in his hair to hold him in place. Not that he needed the encouragement, not when she tasted even better here than her mouth, and every tiny flick of his tongue and scrape of his teeth made her moan and shudder.

Clearly growing impatient, Patti wrapped her arms around her sister from behind and buried her face between Liz's shoulder blades. She wriggled again, too hard for Kid to hold her still this time, and he gave in to what they both wanted so badly and released her. With a pleased noise she lifted herself up, then sank back onto him again before repeating the motion. Kid gasped, which made Liz moan again and rock against him.

Kid's tongue found a harder bit of flesh among the hot folds, and Liz made a noise that was closer to a scream than a moan. Belatedly it occurred to him that Soul and Maka could undoubtedly hear everything they were doing, but he dismissed the thought the moment it came to him. He'd worry about it later. He focused his attention on the sensitive place he'd found, and Liz rewarded him by tightening her hand in his hair almost to the point of pain and pushing herself against his mouth.

That made Patti giggle for some reason. "Lizzie is se~xy," the younger girl chanted, matching the rhythm of her movements to her words. "Sex, sexy, sexy sex!"

Liz laughed, the sound shaky and breathless. "Too bad you can't see the mirror now, Kid," she said, flexing her fingers in his hair. "Bet it's a lot hotter than Soul and Maka were."

For a moment Kid did regret it, because from this angle he couldn't see anything and he could only imagine what their expressions would be right now. But there would be plenty of chances for him to see it if he had anything to say about it, and it didn't seem like they'd be inclined to argue with him.

Moaning again, Liz rocked her hips a little harder against him. He responded by flicking his tongue repeatedly against that sensitive place, and let her feel just the edge of his teeth as well. The trembling in her body became shudders, and this time she did scream as she threw her head back and strained against him. He pressed harder, and her hips bucked. "Enough! Enough," she pleaded, though she made no move to pull away first. "Oh god, Kid, please, I can't take it. Enough!" She screamed again when he closed his teeth gently on the nub, and he felt the muscles in her thighs and stomach tighten.

"I don't think he believes you," Patti snickered. She slowed her pace, teasing them both and making Kid moan. Liz shrieked, and this time she did jerk her hips out of his reach. Kid fell back against the mirror, panting for breath and, he was fairly certain, grinning like an idiot.

Liz slid out of his lap, but before he could protest the loss she climbed right back on again, behind Patti this time. She put her hands on her sister's waist, supporting and encouraging her. "You are one hell of a son of a bitch, Death the Kid," she said breathlessly, smiling at him over Patti's shoulder. "And I mean that in the nicest possible way."

"Touch me now," Patti demanded, increasing her pace again. "My turn, Kid!"

"Say 'please'," Liz teased her, and Patti stuck her tongue out and rocked her hips hard to make Kid gasp again.

"Close enough," he declared, and reached eagerly for her. Her breast felt heavy in his hand, and she squirmed and moaned when he thumbed the nipple. He slid the fingers of his other hand through her slick curls, and she squealed and shuddered. He found the same hard nub of flesh that Liz had, and it seemed to be just as sensitive a spot on Patti. She leaned back against Liz and moved faster, matching the rhythm of his fingers against her.

He released her breast and wrapped his arm around her waist, his hand resting on Liz's hip to make sure she was still included. Liz moaned, her eyes half closed but watching them all in the mirror. The look of smug satisfaction on her face, combined with Patti's expression of frantic pleasure and need, was the most erotic, appealing thing Kid had ever seen, but he was having trouble concentrating on it. Patti felt too good, her body hot and slick and tight around his cock, and now that he wasn't distracted by Liz it was overwhelming him.

Their weight kept him from moving much, but he rocked his hips up into her thrusts as best he could. He ached to be able to drive into her hard and fast, and resolved that next time he was going to be the one on top.

Then all thought was swept from his mind as the world splintered, and everything exploded. He gave a strangled shout as his muscles tightened, arching up as hard and deep into Patti as he could manage. She gave a little cry as well, letting herself rest in his lap but grinding against his fingers to remind him that he was supposed to be moving them. Reflexively Kid flicked his fingers over her again, not really aware of what he was doing as the world slowly resolved itself around him again.

Something he did made Patti scream, and then she was shuddering and convulsing around him, her whole body shaking with the force of what had to be her orgasm. Kid groaned and pushed up into her, wanting more of that incredible sensation even though he'd just come.
Patti was squirming again, her hands scrabbling at his chest like she was searching for something to hold onto. Liz wrapped her arms around her sister's waist and held on tight, supporting her. Patti kept making little mewling noises of need and pleasure, her face flushed with ecstasy. For once she looked her true age, and Kid thought she was more beautiful than ever.

Dropping one hand, Liz caught Kid's wrist and pulled him away from her sister. "Enough, Kid," she murmured with a soft laugh. "You're going to drive her insane. You do like teasing us, don't you?"

"Do I?" he asked somewhat vaguely, too giddy and limp with pleasure to think properly. Patti collapsed against his chest, bracing herself on her forearms and panting, her face inches from his. Liz draped herself over her sister, and Kid didn't mind in the least having both their weight on him.

Looking into their eyes, he saw a depth of love and need that easily rivalled the intensity in Soul's expression before. With a sense of wonder, he finally understood just what it was about Soul and Maka that had drawn him so strongly. It wasn't really the erotic aspect of watching them together, though that had certainly played a part. It was the beauty of their feelings for each other, as their souls resonated together so well they became a perfect match. Different, and yet balanced. What he had done by spying on them was ugly and sinful because it was unreciprocated, throwing everything out of balance and degrading the beauty of their symmetry in the process.

He chuckled, then started to laugh helplessly. In that moment he realized two very important things. The first was that Maka was right - he was lonely, a soul-crushing loneliness that had been with him for so long he'd never realized it was there. Small wonder he'd been so desperately drawn to the image of Soul and Maka together. It was a glimpse into a world he'd only been vaguely aware of, like a window he could peer through to see a paradise he longed for so badly it hurt.

The second thing he realized was that he was a complete and utter idiot, because the answer to that loneliness was sitting right in his lap, and had been there for years if only he'd noticed. He didn't need to intrude on Soul and Maka's private moments to experience that balance - that love - vicariously. He had the real thing right here, twofold. Even the fact that there were an odd number of people didn't throw the balance off, because all three of them matched each other's feelings.

"What's so funny?" Liz asked, startled.

"Perfect symmetry," he said, reaching up with one shaking hand to caress first her cheek, then Patti's. "Right in front of me all along, and I never saw it."

"No we're not," Patti mumbled around a yawn, snuggling in a little closer. "We don' match right 'less we're guns."

"Perfect," Kid insisted, and smiled. "But don't go to sleep here, Patti. There's a nice big bed right over there, and we'll all be much more comfortable in it. Stay with me tonight?"

Patti gave a sleepy cheer and kissed him soundly. Liz stretched and purred at him. "I thought you'd never ask. C'mon, Patti. The bed will definitely be more comfortable." She pulled away from him and stood, then tugged Patti up as well. Kid gasped when he slid out of her body, the cool air a shock after her intense heat.

"Aww, but I like cuddling on him," Patti complained.

"You'll like it more in a moment," Kid promised her, and shed his now thoroughly dirty clothes before he crawled into the bed after the sisters. It took them a few tries to find a position that suited all three of them, but they finally settled with Liz and Kid facing each other, heads together and arms loosely over each other's waists, cradling the smaller Patti between them. It wasn't symmetrical, but Kid decided that for just this one thing, he really didn't care. The symmetry of their souls was enough to make up for it.

Kid wondered if there was any possible way he could thank Soul and Maka. If not for his brief obsession with them, his eyes might never have been opened to the possibilities before him. If only all his obsessions were as easy to shake as this one had turned out to be, and as rewarding.

In the end, however, he decided that discretion was definitely the better part of valour in this case. Soul and Maka were better off not knowing - especially if he didn't want Soul to rip out his vital organs. It would never happen again, that was the important thing.

"So, are you going to let us watch with you next time?" Liz asked as if reading his mind, her eyes sparkling as she grinned at him over Patti's head.

"Liz!"

"Yay, we can make it a game! Let's see who gets off first!"

"Patti!"

[Fic] A Different Kind Of Symmetry - Soul Eater, Kid/Liz/Patti, Soul/Maka - 1/2

2009-03-02T08:41:31Z

Not to be punny or anything, but this fandom is EATING MY SOUL. *sweatdrops* It won't leave me alone. I've declared that I am not allowed to write any more Soul Eater until Foresight is finished, period, end of story (literally). I refuse to let Soul Eater do to D.Gray-man what FFVII did to Tenipuri. I will not let a fic sit unfinished with only two mostly-written chapters left to go! ;p

Since I already have several more rabid bunnies for this fandom, I imagine it will be good motivation to finish Foresight QUICKLY. >.<

This was supposed to be Soul/Maka/Kid. Now it's... really complicated. o.O This fandom is corrupting me! Not only am I only writing het, I had a perfect opportunity for sib-cest, and didn't take it! *hangs head* I need to turn in my hentai membership card, obviously.

It was also supposed to be a oneshot, but it's too damned big for an LJ post, so you get it in two pieces, instead. ;p

Title: A Different Kind Of Symmetry
Series: Soul Eater
Pairing: Soul/Maka mostly in this part, but Kid/Liz/Patti overall
Rating: NC17
Warning: het, explicit sex, voyeurism, incest? (does it still count as incest if they're having sex with someone at the same time, but not with each other?)
Chapter Length: 6171

Symmetry has always been the most important part of Kid's life, but maybe there's more to the concept than he realizes.

Not safe for work!

Someone had pulled both curtains to one side of the window. Kid tried not to look in that direction, because every time he caught sight of it, he twitched. Really the entire suite was just so horribly asymmetrical, but at least everything else was where it belonged. The curtain was asymmetrical and out of place.

Gritting his teeth, Kid deliberately turned his back on the window and continued to shuffle through the papers and magazines on the low table. They'd been in Monte Carlo for a week now, and although Liz and Patti had long ago learned not to leave their things scattered around in the common areas, Soul and Maka had no such consideration. Not for the first time since they'd arrived in Europe, Kid cursed his honoured father's generosity in letting them rent a suite instead of separate rooms.

But he wasn't supposed to be cleaning up, he reminded himself firmly. No matter how much his fingers itched to sort the magazines so they were more aesthetically pleasing. He was looking for a note or some other indication of where Maka had gone.

The door opened, and Kid glanced up to see Liz enter from the room the girls were sharing. Behind her through the doorway he could see Patti peering under the bed, as if expecting to find the missing girl crammed into the three inch gap between frame and floor.

"Well, all of her stuff is still here, as far as I can tell," Liz said unhappily. "She didn't even change into her clothes! And her bed hardly looks like it's been slept in at all. She must have gotten up right after Patti and I fell asleep."

Kid twitched again, struggling to concentrate on what Liz was saying. Turning to see her had brought the damned window back into his line of sight. Finally his patience snapped. "Aargh! Who would do such a thing?" he demanded, clutching at his head.

"What? Do you think someone actually took her?" Liz looked startled and dismayed. "Did you find a ransom note or something?"

He couldn't take it anymore. It was going to drive him insane. Kid marched over to the window and yanked one curtain back to the other side of the frame where it belonged. He stood there for a moment, breathing hard, then turned and gave Liz a smile that was only a little shaky. "That's better. Sorry, what were you saying?"

Liz sighed and shook her head, amused. "I suppose I should be grateful you haven't spent all week rearranging the rooms to be perfectly symmetrical."

"I can't, the shape isn't symmetrical to start with," Kid said a touch sourly, thinking of the hours of effort he'd put into making his bedroom acceptable. It was still far from perfect, but at least it didn't drive him half mad just to look at it.

She blinked at him, then chuckled. "If I look in your room, it's going to be as close as you could make it, isn't it?"

Clearing his throat, Kid adjusted his jacket, making certain it was straight. He could feel a light flush on his cheeks, but he ignored it with dignity. He'd come a long way in the last few years towards getting a handle on his obsessions, in no small part thanks to Liz and Patti's influence, but the universe could only ask so much of a man.

"So, you didn't find any sign of her, either?" he asked, bringing the conversation back to the important matter at hand. She shook her head, and he sighed. "I suppose we'd best wake Soul, then."

They both looked at the door to the third bedroom in trepidation. Kid had claimed one room mostly so he could have a place he could arrange to his liking and retreat to when the chaos in the rest of the suite started to get to him. None of the girls were going to share with Soul, of course, so he'd gotten the extra room to himself while the girls squeezed in together. It wasn't an ideal arrangement, but it was the best they could do.

It was still barely dawn, and there had been no sign of life from Soul as yet. Kid had been hoping they would discover that Maka had only stepped out for a moment, because the prospect of telling Soul that his partner had gone missing - well, Kid could predict what would happen, and it wouldn't be pretty.

Still, the reaction would be much worse if they continued to allow Soul to sleep after establishing that something was definitely wrong.

"You and Patti go check the lobby," Kid ordered. "I'll fill Soul in, and we'll join you there in a moment."

"Okay." Liz reached back and caught Patti by the arm, hauling her out of their room.

"Are we done playing hide and seek?" Patti asked, confused. "But Maka's still winning!"

Kid waited until they were gone, then steeled himself. He tapped twice on Soul's door and opened it, already speaking. "Soul, wake up. We can't find..."

His voice caught in his throat and he froze in the doorway. He'd just found Maka. She was rather difficult to miss - in fact, he was seeing more of her than he'd ever seen before. She was curled up against Soul's side, her head on his shoulder, and both of them were naked to the waist.

Kid was instantly trapped between two powerful and wildly conflicting reactions. Presented with this image years ago when he'd first met them, Kid would have fallen instantly into a funk under the sheer, overwhelming weight of their asymmetry. Long blonde hair versus short, wild white; Maka was on her side while Soul was on his back; and of course, there was the obvious contrast of male and female.

And yet... and yet, he couldn't tear his eyes away, and it wasn't disgust or revulsion that held him fascinated. Maka looked pale and delicate against Soul's tanned chest. She'd filled out a lot compared to the flat-chested girl she'd been when Kid first met her. Soul's arm was wrapped around her waist and his hand rested just beneath her breast. The strong, muscled lines of his arm and hand made a stark contrast with her soft curves. There was a tender intimacy implied by their positions, and the easy way they slept so close together.

A low rumble filled the room, like a dog's warning growl, but it wasn't until Soul suddenly moved his hand to cover Maka's exposed chest that Kid realized what he was hearing. He jerked his eyes up and saw that Soul was awake, his red eyes open and locked on Kid with a death glare. When he saw that he had Kid's attention, he narrowed his eyes in a dangerous expression and mouthed clearly, 'Get out'.

For one more moment Kid remained, transfixed now by the intensity in Soul's eyes. He didn't think he'd ever seen such depth of emotion before, and he wondered if Maka realized how incredibly lucky she was.

Then he saw Soul's fist clench as Maka began to stir. Reason reasserted itself, and Kid fled before Soul decided that killing him was more important than not disturbing Maka.

He retreated to his own room, hoping to take solace in the symmetry he'd arranged there. He leaned against the door, needing its solid presence to help him stay upright. He was breathing hard, fighting to focus. Flashes of memory kept intruding, distracting him from his attempts to regain his calm.

It was the little details that kept coming back to him: the way his hand had looked against her skin; her face tucked into his shoulder; the mingling of their gold and silver hair; the fiercely protective and possessive expression in Soul's eyes.

Hideously asymmetrical, and yet breathtakingly beautiful at the same time. Kid's brain was threatening to shut down under the paradox. To make matters worse, his body wasn't confused in the least and was making itself very clear on the issue. The young shinigami had experienced the phenomenon humans referred to as 'hormones' before this, but never so strongly.

Voices from outside reached him dimly through the haze in his brain. "Maka! There you are."

"Huh? Were you looking for me?"

"It's stupid that you're all crammed in there. We live together anyway."

"Soul and Maka, sitting in a tree..."

"Shut up, idiot! I slept on the floor."

"Aww, that's so sweet!"

"Where's Kid?"

"I don't know, he was supposed to meet us downstairs to go look for you."

"Hide and seek! Kid's winning now!"

"Kid?" There was a knock on his door. "Kid, are you in there?"

'No, stay out,' he tried to say, but it came out as a hopeless moan. He heard the door open, and it lodged against his foot. It was only then that he realized he'd collapsed to the floor at some point. He was on his hands and knees, head on the ground and eyes squeezed shut like that would protect him from the images in his brain.

"Kid? Oh, geez." Liz squeezed through the narrow opening and knelt next to him. She rubbed his shoulder with one hand, speaking in a low, soothing voice. "What set you off this time?" He whimpered, rendered totally incoherent, and she sighed. "Patti! Get in here, I need you."

"Huh?" He heard soft footsteps, then Patti's familiar sing-song voice. "Awww, poor Kid. Don't worry, we'll make you all better!" She sat on his other side and nudged him until his head was cradled against her shoulder.

He clung to their familiar presence, soaking it up like an antidote to the madness in his mind. They continued to murmur to him, a litany of reassurances and comfort that had evolved over the years of their partnership. Finally he had recovered enough to be able to take a deep breath, and he looked up at them sheepishly.

"I'm okay," he said, a little hoarsely. "Sorry."

"No worries," Liz said. Patti released him and allowed him to sit up properly. "It's been a long time since I've seen you that bad, though. What happened? Was Soul's room that horrible?"

Just thinking about it made heat rush through his body and threatened to send him plunging right back into chaos. "I don't want to talk about it," he said hastily.

"I'm huuuuungry," Patti declared with a pout. "Breakfast time?"

"Soul and Maka went ahead to get us a table at the restaurant in the lobby," Liz said. "We should hurry, they're probably getting worried."

Kid's flush increased, and he wondered nervously if he was going to be thrown back into conflict just by seeing the two of them. That could make finishing this mission very difficult.

"Eeeeeeh?" Patti leaned forward and peered at him closely, eyes wide. "Kid's blushing!"

"I'm doing no such thing," Kid immediately denied, even as he felt himself blush harder. He pulled every inch of his shinigami dignity around him and held it to him like an ephemeral version of his cloak, but he had a feeling it wasn't helping much.

"Heh, sure looks like you are," Liz said, patting his shoulder and grinning at him. "Don't be embarrassed. Not like it's the first time we've seen you in a funk. Probably won't be the last, either, even if you have gotten better."

He decided to let her believe her version of the cause of his blush. Pushing himself to his feet, he offered a hand to his partners, and smiled at them when they let him help them up. "Thank you, both of you." The words were unnecessary after so long together, but he knew they were still appreciated.

"Breakfast!" Patti insisted, and used her grip on his hand to tow him to the door. Smiling, he let her take the lead, with Liz following behind shaking her head like an indulgent mother.

Soul and Maka had indeed saved them places, and thankfully said nothing about the delay. Then again, they were nearly as used to Kid as the Thompson sisters. He was grateful for that understanding as he settled into a seat, making certain to keep Liz and Patti between him and the other two. In particular, he wanted to be out of Soul's immediate reach, because there was still a great deal of irritation and anger lurking in the weapon's red eyes whenever he looked at Kid.

The meal was awkward, to say the least. The others seemed to write Soul's hostility off to grumpiness at having been woken so early, but Kid was excruciatingly aware of the true cause. He kept his attention on his food, carefully rearranging everything so it was symmetrical on the plate, then eating precise amounts from each side so he wouldn't throw it out of balance for more than a moment.

He didn't normally put that much focus into his food anymore, but today he used it as an excuse not to have to look at Soul and Maka. Even so he frequently caught himself sneaking glances at them, trying to decide if they were acting any differently than usual. As far as he could tell they were behaving exactly as they always did, which implied that the relationship had been going on for a while.

Well, it was fairly common for a meister and weapon to end up in a romantic relationship, he knew that. The strength and intensity of the bond formed by a good pairing easily crossed the line into that territory. And it didn't really surprise him that Soul and Maka would have gone that route.

It was only that he could not get the image of the two of them together out of his head. Any time he caught a glimpse of Soul's strong hand or Maka's long golden hair, it sent him right back to the small eternity he'd spent frozen in their doorway, staring at them. Most especially he couldn't shake the memory of Soul's intense glare, and the depth of emotion in it.

Kid couldn't wait for breakfast to end, and he sighed with relief when they finally got their bill. "You all go ahead," he said, reaching for it. "I'll authorize payment for it and meet you outside."

"Just don't go AWOL on us this time," Liz teased him with a smile. "You've got five minutes, and then we're coming after you!"

He smiled weakly and waved her out, then went to take care of the bill. When he was done he turned to leave, and found himself face to face with Soul. A very irritated, predatory-looking Soul.

He froze again, heart pounding in his chest, struggling not to be caught in the other boy's gaze. Soul slung an arm over his shoulder to steer him towards the door, giving the appearance of two casual friends together to an observer, but Kid could feel the implied threat in the tight grip Soul had on him. "Maka doesn't know you saw us," Soul murmured in Kid's ear as they walked towards where the girls stood clustered outside the window. "If you say one word to anyone, or do anything to embarrass her, I won't bother challenging you to a duel. I'll just kill you where you stand. Got me?"

The low growl in his voice made a shudder run down Kid's spine, but it wasn't fear that caused the reaction. Kid bit his lip hard to keep from moaning, and tasted the sharp copper of blood in his mouth. "I wouldn't do anything like that," he said carefully when he had control of himself again. "It was an accident, and I was just startled. Really, Soul. What do you think of me?"

"Just so we're clear," Soul said, and flashed a smile that showed far too many sharp teeth. Kid swallowed hard, and was relieved when Soul released him to walk to Maka's side.

Now all he had to do was make certain Soul never realized how much he kept thinking about the sight of them together, and Kid might yet survive this.

The main street of Monte Carlo was packed with noise and confusion, people everywhere and glaring neon signs on all sides. The casinos went beyond just 'overboard' in their attempts to draw people inside to spend money. It was a riot of noise, colour, and life.

"Waaah!" Patti exclaimed, eyes shining enough to rival the neon as she bounced on her toes. "It's so bright!"

"This is the life," Liz declared, stretching her arms up over her head and grinning when some passing boys whistled at the way her already short shirt crept up further. "Best way to celebrate finishing a mission ever. I can't believe Shinigami-sama let us stay the extra night."

"Fun, fun, fun," Patti chanted. "We're gonna have so much fun!"

"Where do you want to start, Kid?" Liz asked, glancing back over her shoulder.

Kid had fallen behind, stunned by the impact of the city. It was the first time they'd visited the main drag at night, and it was like walking into a different world. He was only vaguely aware of the sisters talking, his attention caught by one thing after another. This glaring sign, that glittering dress; this music blaring from an entranceway, that snatch of raucous laughter and conversation. It was as if the world had shattered to pieces, and all of the bright shards were whirling in and out of his sight.

He felt like he was drowning, lost in too many conflicting details. He couldn't focus on any one thing long enough to even properly identify it before it was lost and the next image was demanding his attention. His mind tried frantically to impose order on the chaos, and was doomed to failure.

Someone put a hand firmly over his eyes, blocking his sight and leaving him in blessed darkness. He gasped and coughed, his body remembering the importance of breathing. It felt like the world had tilted beneath his feet and he couldn't quite keep his balance. He flailed, and someone caught his hand and steadied him.

"It's okay," Liz said, her voice right in his ear, helping to block out the sounds as well. "Kid, just breathe, it's okay. We're right here."

He concentrated on following her suggestion. It was Patti who'd covered his eyes, he could tell now, and Liz who was steadying him. Not for the first time he gave thanks to whatever higher power had caused them to think he looked like a good target and brought them into his life.

"I'm okay," he said, though his voice shook and put the lie to his words. He was afraid it would just happen all over again the moment Patti let him see.

Perhaps she sensed that, because she only tilted her hand enough for him to see them leaning in close. The rest of the world was still blocked out. "Aw, Kid's having a really bad day," Patti said sympathetically.

"I guess this really isn't your kind of place, is it?" Liz said. He heard her sigh and saw a brief flash of regret and disappointment in her eyes before she smiled at him. "Oh, well. We'd probably just have spent too much money anyway. Let's go back, right, Patti?"

Her little sister wasn't as good at controlling her expression; she nodded, but she was pouting and clearly unhappy.

Kid felt guilty. How often in their years together had they passed up a chance to have fun in order to take care of him? And how many more chances would they have to party in a city like Monte Carlo? "Don't be ridiculous," he said. "There's no reason for you to have to sit around the hotel room just because I'm having issues. It's not as if you need me to guard you. You're perfectly capable of taking care of each other."

"Are you sure?" Liz looked at him uncertainly. "First you collapsed this morning, and now this - you're worrying me, Kid."

He made himself straighten his shoulders and lift his head, giving them as confident a look as he could manage. "I'm certain. The hotel is only a few blocks behind us, and those streets were fairly quiet. I'll be fine once I get back to our rooms. A night of peace and quiet would do me some good, actually. Maybe it's just having to be here, living in close quarters with Soul and Maka, that's got me so off balance."

"Well..." The longing in Liz's eyes was clear when she looked out over the glittering street. Finally she gave in to temptation. "All right. As long as you're sure."

Patti cheered and linked arms with her sister. "Bye-bye!" she chirped. "Don't have too much fun without us!"

"Don't you have too much fun, period," Kid replied, drawing on his dignity. He gave them a superior look that was unfortunately somewhat ruined by the amused smile he couldn't quite hide. "And don't spend too much money!"

They waved over their shoulders at him, and he turned away before his attention could be caught by the chaos of the street again.

He made his way carefully back to the hotel. It was easier if he found an object at least mostly symmetrical in the direction he wanted to go, and focused only on that until he reached it. Then he would look ahead and find the next thing, and walk towards that. From the whispers and giggles around him he knew people thought he was drunk or high, but he ignored them with an effort. Once inside the hotel lobby he headed straight for the elevators, with their decorations of beautifully worked, blessedly symmetrical iron grillwork.

Even so Kid was sweating hard by the time he made it back to their suite, and just short of hyperventilating. He shut the door of his room behind him, kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto his bed. The wall across from the bed was where he'd spent most of his efforts carefully arranging things until it was a view of perfect symmetry, and he fixed his attention firmly on it. Slowly his breathing started to calm.

Just as he was starting to regain his equilibrium, a sharp cry rang through the suite. He was on his feet looking for the source of the threat before he even consciously registered the sound. He could sense Soul Eater and Maka's souls nearby, but there was nothing else in the immediate area.

A second cry was followed by a moan, at the same moment that Kid realized what the peculiar resonance he felt between the two souls meant. Kid's mind was inexorably pulled back to the image of them as they'd looked that morning, and heat ran through his veins like liquid fire.

The desire to see it again was almost overwhelming. Maybe if he could understand what it was that drew him despite the horrid asymmetry, he could deal with it and get on with his life. Or better yet, maybe seeing them now would make him realize that it had all been a momentary aberration, and there wasn't anything attractive about the image. Then he could put it out of his mind once and for all.

He was actually reaching for the big mirror on the wall, his fingers inches from the surface, when he came to his senses. Shocked and appalled at himself, he snatched his hand back. To use his shinigami abilities to spy on them having sex - it was not only perverted, it was a gross misuse of his power. Almost as importantly, if Soul ever found out about it, Kid was a dead man.

Still the urge persisted, as bad as any of his obsessions had ever been. It was all he could think about, the image occupying his mind until it locked out everything else. Would motion enhance the contrast between Soul's powerful body and Maka's lithe curves? Would he see that same intensity in Soul's eyes, but born of passion instead of anger?

Would he ever get rid of this obsession if he didn't look? It wasn't something he could check on or fix, like straightening his picture frames, in order to relieve the strain on his mind. What if it just kept getting worse, until he was right back to the state he'd been in years ago?

That thought broke Kid's will completely. He'd come so far, and put so much effort into improving. Backsliding was the worst fate he could contemplate. He couldn't let that happen, at any cost. He reached for the mirror again before he could change his mind. Just one look, enough to put his mind at rest, and then he would never do such a shameful thing again.

Everyone knew his honoured father could use mirrors to communicate with people, and many had made the logical deduction that Death the Kid could as well. What very few people realized was that the connection didn't have to go both ways.

Summoning his power, Kid placed his hand on the mirror and brought to mind the clearest image of Maka and Soul he could think of. Not surprisingly, it was the picture of them in bed that morning. The mirror clouded over, and Kid held his breath. Now he just had to hope they were within sight of a reflective surface big enough to give him a good look.

The image resolved itself, and Kid gasped and took an involuntary step back. They were in range of a mirror, all right. In fact they were standing in front of the large mirror in Soul's bedroom, which meant the image was exactly the same as it would have been if he could simply see through the wall.

Soul was mostly hidden behind Maka, cradling her from behind. Her head was tilted back to rest on his shoulder, her eyes closed, but Soul was staring straight at Kid.

For a frantic moment Kid thought he'd worked the spell wrong and he was visible. But Soul's expression didn't change to outrage, and finally Kid realized the other man was only watching their reflections.

"Open your eyes," Soul growled, the sound of his deep voice sending shivers down Kid's spine. It seemed to have a similar effect on Maka, because she moaned and shuddered. "Look," Soul insisted, his red eyes burning with passion and need.

Maka opened her eyes slowly, looking almost drugged. That was when Kid realized that Soul had one hand on her breast inside her open blouse, and the other was hidden beneath her skirt between her legs. The muscles on that arm flexed, and Maka cried out again.

Kid's resolution to only look for a moment flew right out the window. They were unbearably beautiful together, to the point where he felt actual pain in his chest. It had nothing to do with symmetry, and everything to do with the matching expressions of intense love and desire in their eyes.

Maybe that was just a different kind of symmetry, when it came right down to it.

"Soul," Maka whimpered. She braced herself against the mirror with one hand, and Kid hesitantly stepped close again so he could lay his palm against the image of hers. It gave him a sense of contact with them, as if he was now involved in what they were doing.

With an evil little grin, Soul stopped whatever he was doing with his hidden hand, and tugged at her skirt. Maka moaned a protest, but obligingly wriggled her hips to help him get the material down. That left her dressed only in lacy panties and a matching bra, with her blouse hanging open off her shoulders.

Kid felt his breathing speed up as Soul ran his fingers under the lace that covered Maka's curls, and she moaned again. "See?" Soul murmured. "Look at yourself. And you wanted to know why I can't keep my hands off you." Maka's expression was one of tortured ecstasy, and Kid couldn't blame Soul in the least for wanting to see it as often as possible.

Without consciously being aware of what he was doing, Kid slid his other hand into the front of his pants. He shuddered when his fingers met heated flesh, his cock already hard and aching. Some vague part of him knew that doing this was even worse than just watching them, but the rest of him really didn't care at that moment. He'd never felt anything as incredible as he did when touching himself with Soul seemingly staring right at him with that heated expression.

He squeezed his cock once, then reluctantly let go long enough to fumble his fly open. That gave him enough room to get a good grip and stroke, and he bit his lip to stifle the moan that wanted to escape him. If he could hear them even before he'd activated the mirror, they would be able to hear him as well.

Deliberately he matched his pace to the slow flex of muscles in Soul's arm, teasing himself as Soul teased Maka. She was whimpering and rocking her hips into each touch. "Soul, please," she cried, panting for breath. "I... I need... please!"

"Say it," Soul ordered, stilling his hand. Maka shrieked a protest, and Kid nearly echoed her as he stopped in mid-stroke.

"Soul..." Maka choked out, all but begging. She still had her hand pressed to the mirror, and Kid imagined he could feel the heated touch of her skin against his.

"Say it," Soul repeated, sharp teeth bared. He leaned in close to her, trailing his mouth over the side of her neck. Kid shivered in unison with Maka, gaze fixed on Soul's fierce eyes.

"I want..." Maka took a deep breath, trembling. "I want your cock in my pussy. Please." She was flushed bright red, but despite the shock of hearing her use such language, Kid thought the blush was from desire more than embarrassment.

The words had a galvanising effect on Soul. His eyes went dark and he growled, hooking two fingers in the delicate lace of her panties and yanking. The sound of tearing fabric was nearly lost in Maka's gasp, and both sounds thankfully covered the low moan Kid couldn't quite suppress.

Soul turned Maka around and backed her against the mirror, kissing her passionately. He wrapped strong arms around her waist and lifted her, and she locked her legs around him in response. Then they were moving together, Soul thrusting hard enough to rattle the mirror. Both of them were making little sounds of need and desire that were the hottest things Kid had ever heard.

Maka's body blocked most of his view now, but he could still see the only thing that really mattered; the expression on Soul's face as he drove into her body again and again. His eyes were open as he kissed her, shining with the depth of his emotion. Kid felt like he was drowning in red, and couldn't tear his gaze away.

When Soul ended the kiss and Maka tucked her face into his shoulder, Soul's face was only inches from the mirror. The image was so clear that Kid half believed he could reach right through the glass to touch him, to make him look at Kid with that painful intensity.

Maka was making the most amazing noises, little cries that rose in tone and volume with each thrust, until she was shrieking. She threw her head back so hard it was a wonder the mirror didn't break, her back arching as her orgasm hit her.

Kid pressed himself against the mirror, the glass cool against his heated face and cock. He imagined he could feel Maka against him through the glass, and that was all he could take. He stuffed his other fist in his mouth to muffle his helpless shout as he came hard all over his hand and the mirror.

Two more thrusts and Soul followed her over the edge, his teeth gritted and eyes falling shut at last as he shouted his pleasure. Kid immediately regretted the loss of that hypnotizing gaze, and wished he dared say something to make Soul look at him again.

All three of them stayed there for a long minute catching their breath; the two lovers still tangled together, and their clandestine observer pressed tight to the mirror, as close to them as he could get.

Finally Soul let Maka slide slowly down to rest on her feet again. She was trembling hard enough that he had to keep an arm around her waist to help steady her. "You all right?"

Her voice was hoarse when she answered, but full of dreamy pleasure. "I'm so glad the others went out for the night."

"Mm." Soul looked smugly satisfied. "I love it when you scream. It's not as much fun when we have to stay quiet."

Biting his lip, Kid stepped back and drew his hand out of his pants. He was a mess, and his skin crawled with the need for a shower. He wouldn't be getting it any time soon, though; not if he didn't want them knowing that he was here, and suspecting what he'd been up to. His heartbeat was still frantic, but guilt and shame were creeping over him. What had he done?

He reached out to clear the image from the mirror, but froze when Maka gasped and went rigid. "Oh, no!"

"What?" Soul said, startled and alarmed. "What's wrong?"

"It's Death the Kid!" Maka said, her voice a strangled whisper. Kid was certain his heart had stopped in his chest, and the sweat on his body suddenly felt ice cold. "He came home without the others for some reason. He's right in the next room!"

Relief swept over him as Kid realized she was only sensing the presence of his soul nearby, not aware of him watching them in the mirror. Soul relaxed as well. "So?" the weapon asked, thumping her gently on the head. "Don't scare me like that, idiot. I thought I'd hurt you."

"But he must have heard us," Maka said, burying her face in her hands. Kid couldn't see her expression with her back to the mirror, but he imagined it was a good match for his own - humiliated and embarrassed.

"Yeah, so?" Soul repeated. He shrugged casually, but Kid could see he was watching carefully for her reaction. "Is it really the end of the world if he finds out we're sleeping together?"

"It's not that," Maka moaned. "It's... it's cruel, rubbing his nose in it like this."

"Huh?" Soul and Kid spoke on the same breath, and now Kid was pretty sure it was Soul's bewildered expression that matched his own. "How's that again?" Soul asked.

"Can't you see it?" Maka asked, lowering her hands and looking at Soul. "He's so lonely."

"Lonely!" Soul laughed. "He's got Liz and Patti. Why would he be lonely?"

"It's not the same," Maka insisted. "Their relationship isn't like ours. If you could see his soul the way I do..." She shook her head, clearly unable to put what she saw into words.

Kid was stunned. His soul looked lonely?

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now." Soul drew her away from the mirror and pulled her towards the bed by one hand. "What's done is done."

Now Kid could see Maka's face again. She looked troubled and worried, yet her eyes were soft and full of love when she looked at Soul. "I just wish he could open up enough to let himself get that close to someone," she said. "He deserves it."

"Stop thinking about him while you're in bed with me," Soul scolded her. "You're gonna make me think I'm not doing my job right." He pulled her close for another kiss, the look in his eyes promising that he planned to do everything in his power to erase Kid from Maka's mind entirely.

Hastily Kid erased the image before he could be drawn in again. Once was bad enough. He wasn't going to violate their privacy like that ever again.

He slid down the mirror to collapse on the floor. After a moment he tucked himself into a tight little ball, face buried in his knees, fighting to steady his breathing. His attempt to purge their image from his mind had backfired spectacularly, and he knew he would never, ever forget what he'd just seen. Even now, just moments after experiencing it, he desperately wanted to see it again. It was all he could do not to reactivate the mirror and watch whatever it was Soul was now doing to draw the moans he could faintly hear from Maka.

With all his heart, Kid wished he had never opened Soul's door that morning. He had a horrible suspicion he was going to regret it for the rest of his life.

[Fic] It's Just A Dance - Soul Eater, Maka+Soul

2009-02-24T07:42:51Z

I know, I know. *sweatdrops* I finally had a chance to rewatch ep 60 of D.Gray-man, and discovered I'd forgotten a few very, very important details. So chap 16 & 17 need to be rewritten. While I'm working on them, here! Have a new fandom. A het one, at that. *sweatdrops*

Does anybody know if there's an official age for the main characters yet? The Star Clan was wiped out thirteen years ago and Black Star was 'a baby' at the time, so he can't be more than 14. Justin Law is 17 according to the wiki article, and he looks significantly older than them. I'm guessing Liz is the oldest at maybe 15-16, Kid and Tsubaki are 14-15, and the others are 13-14, but it's so hard to tell for sure. Aargh, why must I get dragged into fandoms like Soul Eater and Naruto where the characters are too damned young for what I want to do with them? ;p

Still feeling my way into these characters, so if you spot any glaring OOC-ness or inconsistencies, please let me know. (Please let me know no matter how long I've been writing in a fandom, actually.)

Title: It's Just A Dance
Series: Soul Eater
Pairing: Maka+Soul
Rating: PG13? Maybe? I don't think it rates an R.
Warning: het, suggestive language
Length: 10,138

It was just supposed to be a dance, not a life-shattering event.

When had he gotten so big?

I knew he was tall, but it was so much more impressive from up close when he could tuck me under his chin and still have room left over. And when had his shoulders gotten so broad, or his chest and arms so muscled?

"Maka."

We live together. He's always stumbling out of his room in the morning dressed in just a pair of loose shorts and a tank top. How could I have missed noticing it when he stopped being a boy, and became something a lot closer to a man?

"Oi, Maka."

Maybe it was just the contrast? The last time we danced together I was still able to look him straight in the eyes. His shoulder hadn't felt like a solid piece of granite beneath my hand. Could he really have grown up so much in just one year?

"Maka!"

"What?" I jumped, startled, and looked up to find Soul's red eyes glaring down at me.

"You're the one that dragged me onto the dance floor," he growled. "At least pay attention! I'm not doing this again."

His deep voice rumbled in his chest. It was a weird sensation when I was pressed close enough to him to actually feel it, and it made me shiver. My cheeks went hot - no, hotter. I was already overheated, almost feverish. What in the world was wrong with me?

"Hey. You okay?" His scowl turned into a frown. He let go with one hand and laid the back against my forehead. "You're bright red. Idiot. Why didn't you say something, if you were getting sick?" Now the scowl was back, but the look in his eyes was still worried. "You really wanted to go to the dance that badly?"

"I'm not sick," I said, wondering if I was telling the truth. I dropped my eyes, because it felt like the weight of his gaze was pressing against me, making it hard to breathe. Maybe I was sick after all. "It's hot, that's all. There are too many people in here."

To my disappointment and dismay, Soul sighed and stopped dancing. "So go stand outside, if you're so hot." He grabbed my hand and towed me towards the balcony.

"Hey!" Damn it, there went all my hard work cajoling him into dancing with me. He's such a good dancer, I have no idea why he seems to object to it so strongly. It's like pulling teeth to get him onto the dance floor, and usually I don't manage it. "That was only half a dance. That doesn't count. Soul, you promised!"

"Under duress," he snorted. When I opened my mouth to protest further, though, he waved me off. "Fine, fine, I'll keep my promise. As soon as you stop looking like you're about to faint."

Though the air outside had been warm and balmy earlier that day, the light breeze felt like a slap of ice against my skin. I shivered, suddenly regretting the backless, shoulderless dress I'd chosen for the ball. Then again, hadn't I been too hot just a moment before?

Soul stopped and looked down at me, then drew me to one side of the doorway so we weren't blocking it. He took my chin in his fingers, gently enough that it wouldn't hurt but firm enough that I knew I wasn't getting away without a fight, and turned my face up so the moonlight fell on it. "Are you hot or cold?" he demanded. "Make up your damned mind."

"I..." The word emerged as a squeak, and I couldn't force another sound out. My throat had gone as dry as the desert. He loomed over me like an irritated, protective shadow, his suit blending into the equally dark stones in the dim light. The reflection of the candles in his eyes made them almost seem to glow from within, and his sharp teeth gleamed. When had he gotten so close?

I shivered again, my heart pounding in my chest so hard it was a wonder he couldn't hear it. Really, what was wrong with me? I'm not afraid of Soul, I could never be afraid of him. He's my partner and I trust him, and he's saved my life too many times to count. He would never hurt me, so why was I suddenly acting like I was scared of him leaning over me?

"Twit," he said, and finally let go. "You really are getting sick. Stay here, I'll get you some punch or something."

I nodded, not lifting my eyes from the fascinating pattern of stones at my feet. Not having to stare up at him was helping me regain a little composure, at least. Maybe if I didn't look at him for long enough, I would recover and everything would go back to normal again.

Something warm and soft settled over my bare skin, and I was enveloped in the musky scent I associate with Soul. I forgot my new resolution not to look at him; when I glanced up, I saw him sauntering back to the party, now dressed only in his shirtsleeves.

Sure enough, the light wool fabric draped over my shoulders was his suit jacket. It was big enough to hold two of me, but if I held the edges and pulled it close it was almost like having him wrapped around me. I snuggled into it with a vague feeling of guilt. For what, I wasn't sure, and I didn't want to poke at the feeling too hard to find out.

Soul made it maybe three feet past the door before he was ambushed. Liz and Patti appeared out of nowhere and attached themselves to him, one on each arm. "What the..." Soul said, startled.

Liz made the most pathetic, pleading face I'd ever seen and cut him off. "Please, Soul, you have to rescue us," Liz begged.

"Damsels in distress!" Patti chimed in, nodding vigorously.

"Kid is going to drive us insane," Liz continued desperately. "Last year he spent the whole dance making us do one move over and over until it was perfect, at least until Medusa ruined things. Now he's measuring off the dance floor and marking it with chalk, so the dance is perfectly symmetrical."

"So?" Soul growled, eyebrows drawing together. "What's that got to do with me?"

"I just want one dance, one normal dance I can actually enjoy!" Liz said. "Besides, if we're dancing with someone else, maybe he won't drag us into it."

"Dance for real," Patti said, giggling.

"Find someone else. I don't dance," Soul said dismissively, and tried to turn away. They only clung to him harder.

"You were just dancing with Maka," Liz pointed out. "You're good at it! Don't be shy." I had to cough to cover a snicker at the idea of Soul being shy. This was highly entertaining.

His scowl deepened. "That's different. She blackmailed me." He glared back over his shoulder at me, and I smiled innocently and wiggled my fingers at them in a wave. I'd spent weeks doing research, gathering material, making certain that this year Soul wouldn't be able to wriggle off the hook. There was no way anyone else would be able to convince him to dance.

"So? Consider this extortion," Liz said cheerfully. "Patti, time for you to throw in your two cents."

The younger Thompson sister was normally so happy and easy-going that it was always a shock when she did turn serious. I squeaked at the fierceness of her glare, and it wasn't even directed at me. Soul looked stunned. "Dance with us, or I'll fucking crush you," Patti declared.

Obviously panicked, Soul looked around for something to rescue him. He saw me, and sighed with relief. "Look, I can't. I'm supposed to be getting Maka a drink. She's not feeling well."

"Oh? What a shame." Liz gave me a sympathetic look. "But that's okay. Patti can get her a drink while you dance with me, and then we can switch. That's even better! You don't mind if we borrow Soul for a few minutes, do you Maka?"

What was I supposed to say to that? The situation was a lot less amusing now that it looked like they were actually going to win, but it would have been petty of me to refuse. Besides, what real claim did I have on Soul's time? He was my partner, not my boyfriend. I couldn't stop him from dancing with other girls.

Something sour squirmed in my stomach, and I think my expression was a little sickly when I smiled at Liz. "No, of course not," I said. "I'll just be out here enjoying the cool air."

"See?" Liz said brightly, hauling at Soul's arm again. "She's fine. Well, not fine. You really do look awful, Maka. Maybe you should go lie down somewhere?"

"No, I just need a few minutes to recover," I said. No way was I going to toddle off home and leave Soul in their clutches. At the very least, I could rescue him after a few minutes by insisting he keep his promise to me. From the look in her eyes, I didn't think Liz was really going to let him get away with just 'a few minutes'.

"All right! Fine. One dance," Soul growled, and allowed himself to be dragged off to the dance floor.

I leaned against the doorway and watched as my partner took Liz in his arms. Liz was much taller than me; not as tall as Soul, but enough to be able to easily talk to him and see his face, even from that close. She looked happy, and despite the sullen expression on Soul's face, the thought crossed my mind that they looked really good together.

For some reason that didn't sit well with me, and I brushed the thought away like an irritating fly.

"Somebody's got a cru-ush."

The sing-song chant from behind me startled me so much I jumped, and it felt like my heart leapt into my throat. I turned to see Patti smiling up at me, holding out a glass of punch as promised. "Thank you," I said automatically, though my mind was locked on what she'd just said. An odd feeling of panic was creeping up on me, as if she was looking right into my soul and there was something there I didn't want her to see. I reluctantly untangled one hand from Soul's jacket and accepted the glass. "Wh-who are you talking about?"

"Liz," Patti clarified, hopping up to sit on the railing so she could swing her feet, giggling.

"What?" My first reaction was relief. Then what she'd said actually sank in, and I felt stunned. Liz? Had a crush on Soul?

"For like, a month now," Patti said, nodding and grinning like she was sharing something amusing. "It's funny to watch. She all 'hey, look at me, I'm hot!'." She posed for a moment like a flirting girl, then stuck her nose in the air and crossed her arms over her chest. "And he's all 'pfft, whatever, I'm too cool for girls.'." She snickered and dropped the pose. "Maybe tonight he'll get the hint. If she tries any harder, she's gonna fall out of her dress."

I looked at the two of them, and sure enough Liz was dressed to kill, with enough cleavage showing to smother a man. I glanced back at Patti, who actually had the bigger chest of the two of them, but her dress wasn't nearly as low-cut despite being identical in every other way.

A low, familiar chuckle cut through the noise of the crowd, and this time when I looked I saw that Soul was laughing. It's not something he did often, but I'd heard it before. Never quite like that, though. There was a thread of warmth beneath it that made the sound anything but innocent.

Were they dancing too close together? Soul's arm was all the way across Liz's back, when with me his hand had rested just short of my spine. For that matter Liz had her arm wrapped around Soul's neck, not just a hand on his shoulder. She was smiling up at him with an invitation clear in her expression, and from the look in Soul's eyes, it wasn't entirely unappreciated.

"I think he noticed," I said flatly. My voice came out cold and hard, and I felt an answering lump of ice in my chest. Soul was my partner. Mine! He wasn't supposed to look at other people like that. He was as bad as Papa, flirting with any pretty girl who came along, any shameless hussy who threw herself at him like a cat in heat...

"Maka! Are you jealous?" Patti asked, her eyes wide and alarmed.

"What?" Jolted out of my increasingly angry thoughts, I blinked at her. "J-jealous? Why would I be..."

It hit me then, with the force of a blow. Oh gods, she was right. The sick feeling in my gut, the ice in my chest, the anger over Soul's flirting... I was acting like a jealous girlfriend, and I had no right. Soul wasn't cheating on me, there was no rule that said a weapon had to stay glued to his meister's side at all times. Unlike my Mama and Papa, I had no claim on him beyond that professional relationship.

Suddenly my earlier shivers and overheated sensation took on a whole new meaning, as did my preoccupation with Soul's body when we were dancing. I'd been oblivious to more than just Soul growing up, apparently. At some point I'd fallen in love with my partner, and never noticed until my nose was rubbed in my feelings.

"I'm not jealous," I lied, my voice faint with shock. I felt breathless and dizzy, and I couldn't stand even looking at Soul and Liz. It was as if, now that I'd realized the truth, it hurt that much more to see them together. "I'm just really not feeling well. I think Liz is right, I should go home and lie down."

Not waiting for her to answer, I pushed my way through the crowd and headed for the door. Halfway there I realized that I should return Soul's jacket to him, and I paused. One look convinced me I didn't want to go anywhere near them. They were even closer now, Soul's head bent to put his face close to Liz's as they danced, and they looked beautiful together.

I couldn't deal with it. It was cowardly of me and I knew it, but I fled with my tail between my legs and my heart so heavy it felt like I would never be happy again.

Normally I'm the kind of person who falls asleep easily. Maybe it's because I fill my days with so much activity: studying, training, going on missions, or just hanging out with my friends. Tonight, though I longed for the oblivion of sleep, my mind simply refused to shut down. I lay there in my bed, curled up beneath the blankets, with Soul's jacket still draped over me. I hadn't been able to bring myself to let it go, wrapping it around me like a comforter and wallowing in the scent of him.

I was being pathetic. Worse, I was being stupid. I might not have a claim on Soul, but Liz didn't have a claim on him yet, either. He was obviously interested in her, but one dance wouldn't make them a couple. If I told him tomorrow how I felt...

Gods, but what if he didn't feel the same? What if it made things awkward, and ruined our partnership? The thought of losing him was more than I could stand, and it had nothing to do with how hard it would be for me to find a new weapon I could resonate with.

No. No. I couldn't let fear stop me. If I didn't tell him, I'd have to spend the rest of my life watching him with other women, just like my Mama had watched Papa. Except, unlike her, I'd have only myself to blame for my misery. Soul cared about me, I knew he did. It was obvious every time we matched our soul wavelengths, every time I held him in my hands in a fight. Surely if I just made my feelings clear, that caring could turn into something more.

Tomorrow, first thing, I would tell him what I had realized. I wouldn't let myself run from this. Having made the decision, the sick feeling finally left my gut and I was able to relax, even smile. Yes. Everything would be okay, as long as I had the courage to face him. I felt sleep creeping over me at last, and I welcomed it.

Some time later, a soft tapping at my door drew me from slumber. Still half asleep, I rubbed at my eyes and made a sound that hopefully Soul would interpret as an inquiry. He opened the door and stuck his head inside, then came all the way in when he saw I was awake.

"Hey," he said, coming over to lean down and check my temperature again. I blushed and fought the urge to squirm at how close he was. "You're still a little warm," he said, mistaking my flush. "You worried me, running out like that. Idiot. I came as soon as I realized you were gone."

"Sorry," I mumbled, still not awake enough for coherent speech. "You didn't have to leave."

He made a 'whatever' noise, then smiled and tugged at the blanket over my shoulders. "I'm gonna want that back, you know. But it can wait 'til morning."

Belatedly I realized that the 'blanket' was actually his jacket, which I was still snuggled into. With a mortified squeak I buried my face in my pillow, and he laughed. "Go back to sleep," he said, patting my head and ruffling my hair a bit. "I'll check on you again in the morning."

I flicked my fingers at him, waving at him to go away, and he chuckled again. The sound was low and smooth, and it made my heart flip-flop and did interesting things lower in my body. How had I not noticed before this how hot he was?

He left my door open a crack, probably so he could hear me if I called for him in the night. That made me feel warm all over. Yes, he did care about me, I knew it.

"She's okay," I heard him murmur to someone in our living room. "Still a little feverish, but she's sleeping."

"Oh, good." The voice was unmistakeably Liz, and my whole body went cold. "I'd have felt awful if I'd been distracting you when she was really sick!" Her voice changed from worried to seductive. "So, now that you've been reassured, why don't we..."

They moved out of range, and I couldn't hear the rest of what she said. I didn't want to hear it. There was only one reason I could think of for Soul to bring her here, alone. For a moment I was angry that he was brazen enough to come here with her, right in my home, right in front of me - even Papa had never had that much nerve.

Then reason reasserted itself. It was Soul's home, too, and he had every right to bring a girl here if he wanted to. It was none of my business. I had no claim on him, and now I never would. One dance might not be enough for Liz to have a right to him, but this... this was different. Saying anything now would only lose me her friendship, and might even make Soul mad at me. It would certainly make things awkward.

I pulled the jacket up over my head completely and plugged my ears, screwing my eyes shut as if that would help keep me from hearing anything as well.

All I really wanted was to hide under the covers and forget about the whole thing, but I was doomed to failure. I got away with lurking in my room for one day under the pretence of being 'sick', but after that Soul started making concerned noises about taking me to the infirmary. Faced with the prospect of trying to explain to the too-perceptive nurse why I was faking illness, I decided that getting out of bed was the lesser of evils after all.

"What's with you?" Soul asked as we packed up our books after class. "You've been dragging around like a lump all day. I thought you said you were better?"

"Yeah, you didn't answer a single question in class today," Liz said, looking up from filing her nails. "That's not like you. Still feeling under the weather?"

I kept my eyes glued to my books, because if I didn't I knew I was going to end up glaring at Liz. The elder Thompson girl had plunked herself down in the seat next to Soul first thing that morning, and proceeded to spend the whole class leaning over her books in such a way that Soul could get a good look down her shirt if he cared to. And he had - not that I'd been watching him or anything, but it was hard to miss when I was sitting on his other side.

"Oh, are you not feeling well, Maka?" Tsubaki asked.

The genuine concern from all of them just made me even crankier, especially from Liz. "I'm fine," I said, trying not to sound as sour as I felt. "I'm just tired, that's all."

"It's a shame you had to miss the rest of the ball," Liz said sympathetically. "Don't worry, though. I kept Soul from turning into a wallflower, since you couldn't."

"Tormented me all damned night, you mean," Soul grumbled. His words only confirmed what I'd already known, that Liz had spent the night with him. Hearing it from them made it hurt more, though.

Standing, I slammed the lid of my bag closed. It was soft fabric, so it only made an unsatisfying dull 'thud', but it was the best I could do. If I had to spend one more minute watching Liz flirt with him, I was going to break something. Or someone. "C'mon, Soul," I ordered. "Let's go see if there are any missions available. We've still got a long way to go before we've got ninety-nine souls again."

I'd expected him to jump at the idea. He was always ready and eager for a fight. So I was shocked when he frowned and shook his head. "Not until you're a hundred percent again," he said. "I don't want you passing out in the middle of a fight, or making yourself worse."

"Besides," Liz said while I stood there gaping at him. "Soul promised to help me train today. I'm starting to fall behind the rest of you. I suppose I'll have to subject myself to breaking a sweat occasionally." She pouted and gave a dramatic sigh, while Tsubaki and Patti giggled and the boys rolled their eyes.

"If you want help training, Liz, you should come to the best of the best," Black Star declared, jumping up to pose on top of the desk. He jabbed a thumb at his chest and grinned. "I, the great Black Star, master of the stage and arena, would be the obvious choice!"

"But you're so high above me, I couldn't hope to keep up with you," Liz cooed, batting her eyes at him. "I need someone in the middle to help me improve, first, before I can benefit from your wisdom and expertise. Right?" She smiled and attached herself to Soul's arm.

"Oi!" he objected, scowling at the implication that he was so far beneath Black Star, but he didn't shake her off.

Black Star was puzzling his way through her statement, trying to decide if she'd been complimenting him or not, but I didn't want to hang around for the rest of the conversation. Liz? Train? The girl who wouldn't even play a pickup game of basketball for fear of breaking a nail? Yeah, right. There was only one reason I could think of why she would be so determined to get Soul alone, and he seemed willing enough to go along with it.

"I'll be in the library, then," I said, hoping my voice didn't sound as choked to them as it did to me.

No such luck. "Oi, Maka," Soul started, frowning. Whatever it was he wanted to say, whatever platonic, friendly concern he wanted to voice, I definitely didn't want to hear it.

For the second time in three days I fled from my partner, feeling like my heart was being torn to shreds.

{Maka! Behind you!}

I barely got the scythe up and around in time to block the strike. The force of the blow sent me flying, and I struck a building hard enough to knock bricks loose. I nearly lost my grip on Soul.

Then I was frantically blocking again, trying to keep the two massive clubs wielded by the pre-kishin from connecting. If just one hit landed squarely, my bones would be so much powder inside my body.

{Pay attention,} Soul snapped. {That's twice you've nearly been hit because your head is in the clouds. What's the matter with you?}

"Nothing! My head is right where it belongs," I shouted, all the angrier because I knew he was right.

To my horror I felt Soul's shaft begin to give way under the unrelenting blows. He grunted in pain, and I broke away and leapt backwards again, trying to get out of range.

This was supposed to be an easy mission, almost beneath our level. That's what the assignment had said, but we were having far more trouble defeating the pre-kishin than we should have been. This was not the time for my wits to be wandering.

Yet I couldn't stop thinking about Soul, the solid weight of him in my hands a constant reminder. For the first time, I had some sympathy for Death the Kid and his overwhelming obsessions. I finally understood how one thought could occupy your mind to the point that it was literally impossible to think about anything else.

One of the monster's clubs crashed into the wall bare inches from my head. Chips of brick went flying, and I felt at least two stinging lines on my face that meant I'd been hit. I ducked, knowing the second club would be right behind the first. I brought Soul up and around in a sweeping arc to cut the monster's legs out from under him.

At least, I tried to. It was a move I'd performed a hundred times before, but my arms felt strangely limp, as if I was suddenly too weak to handle the weight of the scythe.

Or... as if it had gotten heavier. The thought made my blood run cold. There was only one reason for something like that to happen.

{Maka!} Soul partially transformed, lunging up out of the scythe and getting one blade arm above my head just in time to block the club heading right for it. The impact was hard enough to jar my whole body. There was an awful crunching noise that I was terrified was the sound of his arm breaking.

"Soul!"

"Stop worrying about me and concentrate on fighting," he said, red eyes glaring at me. Thank Shinigami, there was no indication of pain in his expression.

He melted back into the scythe as I rolled out from between the pre-kishin's legs. That left it caught between me and the wall, and confused for a critical moment. I chopped down with Soul, and we finally scored a hit: a deep gouge across its back and shoulder.

It roared with pain and fury, and lashed out blindly behind it. I saw that one club had a big chunk missing from it, the source of the earlier crunching. Once again I barely ducked out of the way, afraid now to use Soul to block lest the force of the blow damage him. If the shaft bent - or worse, broke - what would that do to his human self?

I didn't know, and I didn't want to find out. I couldn't bear the thought of his strong, beautiful body lying broken and bleeding at my feet. I just... I couldn't bear it.

Another near miss grazed my left shoulder hard enough to make the whole arm go numb, and I cried out as I almost dropped Soul. He was growing heavier, as if his weight was doubled with every passing minute. If this kept up, soon I wouldn't be able to lift him at all. Just like when Black Star had tried to wield him.

{We can't take him like this,} Soul growled, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. Damn it, now was not the time for me to be distracted by the way his voice made my insides squirm! {We need to finish him off, fast. Use the Witch Hunter.}

I nodded, and jumped back far enough to grant us the necessary few moments to concentrate. "{Soul}," we spoke as one on the first word, but my voice froze in my throat and Soul finished the ritual incantation alone. {Resonance!}

I felt his soul pushing at mine, struggling to connect and merge. Panicked, I tried to shield mine from him, something I had never done before. In that instant when I'd felt the first touch of his soul, I'd realized something that should have been obvious.

When our souls resonated together, it worked like a kind of empathy. I could feel his mind, and he could feel mine. If I allowed us to connect now, there was no way I could hide my new obsession with him. He would know everything in an instant.

With a frantic cry I dropped him, scrambling back in an instinctive attempt to put distance between us. I couldn't let him find out. I couldn't. It would change everything, make things awkward between us. I'd never be able to look him in the face again.

{MAKA!} he cried, aghast, and a moment later he'd transformed - putting himself squarely in the path of the massive club already headed straight for me. I'd forgotten about the monster, forgotten about our mission and what we were supposed to be doing. In my panic, I'd forgotten everything but him.

This time the horrible sound of impact was Soul's body breaking, and I screamed. Soul tumbled into my arms as I leapt to catch him. He was coughing up blood and curled around himself in agony.

"SOUL!" It felt like the word was torn right out of my heart, bypassing my throat and leaving a gaping hole behind.

He clutched at my arm - still alive, thank Shinigami-sama and all the other gods - and looked up at me. I'd expected to see pain and anger in his face. Instead his beautiful red eyes were full of confusion and betrayal. "Why... didn't... you link... with me?"

I choked on a sob, and only then realized that tears were running down my face. The price of keeping my secret was going to be his life, because there was nothing I could do to protect us without him in my hand. Too high, I wanted to scream. Too high a price, but I'd already made my choice and now I had to die with it.

I huddled over him, cradling him in my arms. The blow would hit me first, and neither of us would see it coming - that was the best I could do, now. At least we would go together.

The monster roared, and I heard the whistle of the club through the air. I braced myself, but the crushing impact never came. Instead there was a series of explosions that left my ears ringing, and a shriek of pain from the pre-kishin. I looked up, disbelieving.

"Maka! Soul!" Death the Kid came soaring in on his skateboard, Liz and Patti firing so fast I couldn't see the individual shots.

"Kid!" I'd never been so grateful to see anyone. At that moment, I'd even have welcomed my Papa.

"Stay there, we'll handle this," the young shinigami commanded us. He regarded the pre-kishin with an expression of disdain. "I see that you, too appreciate the perfect symmetry of matched weapons, but you're a hundred years too early to defeat us." With a yell he dove in to attack again, guns blazing.

I clung to Soul, praying with all my heart that he would be all right. If only we both got through this okay, I would make sure I never allowed my problems to get him hurt, ever again.

No matter what it cost me.

In a period of time so short it would have embarrassed me if I hadn't been so preoccupied with Soul, Kid had defeated the pre-kishin. Its soul hung in the air, burning with the ugly red fire that marked someone who had eaten human souls.

"Liz, you eat this one," Kid ordered imperiously. "Patti's got one more than you right n... Liz? Liz!"

The elder Thompson sister wasn't paying any attention to her meister. She'd transformed and dropped to her knees beside us, her hands hovering over Soul like she wanted to touch but was afraid to cause more damage. "Soul! Are you... no, that's stupid, of course you're not all right. Where are you hurt? Is there anything I can do?"

I wanted to growl at her to back off, and fought the urge to yank Soul out of her reach. "I'm fine," Soul blatantly lied. "Maka's hurt, help her first."

"Idiot," I exclaimed, fresh tears rolling down my face. "I'm only scratched, you're the one who's hurt." Why did he have to be so damned chivalrous, so sweet and protective, always putting me before him and making me fall for him all the harder?

"You're both hurt, and we need to get you both back to Death City," Kid said firmly, putting an end to the argument before it could really get started. "You're just lucky we happened to be... Patti! Don't take that!"

While none of us was paying attention, Patti had collected the soul and absorbed it. She flashed a victory sign in response to Kid's anguished cry.

"No! What have you done?" Kid moaned, dropping to his knees and clutching at his head. "Now you have two more than Liz. It's unbearable. I have no right to call myself a meister, let alone a shinigami. I should just give up and die right here..."

"Kid!" If I hadn't been supporting Soul's weight with both hands, I'd have brained the young shinigami. "Soul's hurt, this is no time for you to be worrying about how many souls they each have!"

"I'm sorry," he whimpered, head on the ground and a palpable aura of gloom hovering over him. "I'm such a failure, I don't deserve to go on..."

"I'll handle this," Liz said with a resigned sigh. She turned away from us and patted him on the shoulder. "Now, now. It won't take us any time at all to collect two souls for me to eat, really!"

"Maka..." Soul squeezed my hand, and I knew he was going to ask again why I had refused to synch with him.

I couldn't answer that in any way that wouldn't condemn me forever, so I shook my head. "Later," I whispered, though I had no intention of ever allowing the subject to come up again.

He scowled at me, eyes narrowed suspiciously, but finally nodded. It was an indication of just how injured he was that he didn't force the issue, and that only strengthened my resolve to do what I had to do.

"You're what?"

Soul looked like I'd just told him Black Star had died - stunned and in shock, completely unable to comprehend what he was hearing.

"I'm leaving," I repeated, forcing my voice to stay firm. "I need to take time off to think about some things, and it's not fair to you to make you wait around. So you should find yourself another meister. There are lots of unpartnered meisters in Shibusen; any of them would jump at the chance to have you."

"I don't want them, I want you!" Soul protested. The words actually felt like a blow to my chest, my heart hurt so badly. "What the hell is there to think about?"

"A lot of things, and I don't want to discuss them with you," I said stubbornly.

Now he looked hurt, as if I'd wounded him somehow. "You can't leave, Maka. We're a team!"

"No, we're not," I said, and despite my best efforts a tear escaped to roll down my cheek. "Not anymore." I knew he would think I meant because I was leaving, but the truth was far worse than that. Not only could I not resonate my soul to his without revealing my pathetic crush on him, I was deathly afraid that I wouldn't be able to wield him at all. In trying to hide the truth from him, I'd thrown our souls so far out of synch we might never be able to fix it.

He deserved better than that; deserved better than a partner so lost in her emotions she couldn't even wield him. He was so strong, and getting stronger every day. I had no doubt that he would become a Deathscythe - I only doubted now that I would be the one to help him get there.

"Maka, look at me," he demanded, but I shook my head and turned away. "Maka!" I heard him try to get up to grab me, but he grunted with pain and collapsed back against the pillows immediately, defeated by his injuries.

I headed blindly towards the door, my vision blurred by the tears I could no longer hold back. I promptly ran right into someone, a woman who exclaimed in surprise and steadied me by the shoulders so I wouldn't fall. "Maka! What in Shinigami's name?"

My heart sank, and I looked up to find the last person I wanted to see. Liz was alone, which was highly unusual. Obviously she'd been coming to see Soul. Probably she intended to 'keep him company', too. For one moment, I hated her for stealing him from me.

No, no. I couldn't let thoughts like that poison me against my friends. It's none of my business what they do together. Of course she was worried about her boyfriend, and wanted to be with him. I was the interloper here, not her.

She looked from me to him and back again with a raised eyebrow. "Am I interrupting?" she asked uncertainly. "I can come back later."

"Yes," Soul snarled, at the same moment I shouted, "No!"

"I was just leaving," I choked out, before he could say anything else. "I... Please, take care of him." It was as close as I could bring myself to letting her know that she had my blessing, and that I wouldn't try to interfere. I bowed quickly, and then all but ran from the room.

Soul's voice carried down the hall, chasing after me all the way to the exit. "Maka, don't you dare run away. You can't leave me like this. Maka!"

Sobbing, I did the only thing I could do if I really loved him - I walked out of his life and set him free.

By the time a few weeks had passed, I was thoroughly miserable. Going to class was such a torment that I'd caught myself seriously considering dropping out of Shibusen entirely. No matter how far away I sat, I couldn't escape seeing Soul, sitting with Liz and the others. Only the fact that I knew I would later regret giving up my life-long dream kept me stubbornly in class day after day.

Even if I'd been ready, I couldn't begin to think about looking for another partner. Not until Soul found someone else, which he showed no signs of doing. At least he'd stopped trying to corner me or talk to me, after the first week. Now he just watched me constantly from across the room, looking at least as miserable as I felt. That only made me feel worse, because the whole point of torturing myself like this was so that he could move on with his life and find someone who could make him happy.

Liz was certainly trying her best. I hardly saw him without her attached to his arm anymore. Every time I encountered them I ground my teeth and told myself repeatedly that I had no right to be jealous, and I almost managed to be civil.

As bad as the days were, though, the nights were far worse. Mama's big house was empty while she was travelling, so I'd moved back there. But it was too empty; the echo of my footsteps made me feel as hollow as the house.

It was at night that I missed Soul's familiar presence the most. The casual comfort of watching a movie together on the couch, being able to fall asleep knowing he was just on the other side of the wall, even the frequent arguments over who'd left the bathroom a mess or burned the food - all of it was gone, the memories echoing in my heart like my footsteps in the halls.

Maybe that was why I was ambushed so easily. It wouldn't have been the first time I'd longed so much for the feel of him that I imagined his presence in the house. It wasn't until he spoke that I realized he was actually there.

"Maka." His voice seemed even deeper than usual, and I felt warmth shudder through my body.

I stared at him, frozen in the entranceway. "H-how did you get in here?" I blurted out, panicked. I couldn't deal with this right now, couldn't deal with him. Having him so close after weeks of being apart was eroding my already fragile composure. It took everything I had not to throw myself into his arms and beg him to forgive me and take me back.

He shrugged, hands shoved in his pockets, leaning against the doorway to the living room in a pose that should have looked casual, but didn't. There was too much tension in his body, like a pale panther readying himself to pounce. "I broke the lock on the back door," he admitted. "I'll pay to have it fixed."

"You... you what?" Words failed me for a moment as I tried to picture him doing such a thing. Well, no, it wasn't that hard to picture. He could be remarkably aggressive, and once he set his sights on something nothing would sway him. But... "Why?"

"Because this is apparently the only way I can get you to come near me," he said, his red eyes flashing with anger and determination as he pushed away from the wall and prowled towards me. He caught my hand in his before I realized what he intended, and hauled me to the living room. "We have unfinished business to settle."

It was walk or be dragged - his grip on my hand was just short of painful, and I couldn't get free no matter how hard I tugged. "Soul, you're hurting me!" I protested, hoping to guilt him into easing up.

"No, I'm not," he said, glaring at me. "I know exactly how much you can take. Don't lie to me, Maka."

I looked away, shamed. I hadn't thought of it that way, but he was right. I didn't want to lie to him. I didn't want to tell him the truth, but there was too much trust between us for me to break that with stupid lies.

He hit a button on the stereo as we passed it, and slow music began playing. Bewildered, I looked around and saw that he'd pushed all the furniture against the wall to create a clear space in the middle. When he turned and put his other hand at my waist, I realized what he intended.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, my voice a little shrill. I tried to resist as he began to dance, but it was like standing in a downpour without an umbrella and trying not to get wet. Impossible and unrelenting.

"I still have a promise to keep," he said, moving with the slow beat and forcing me to move with him. "We never got to finish that dance."

"You broke into Mama's house just to dance with me?" I wasn't sure if I wanted to laugh, or cry. It was worse than torture to be this close to him, revelling in the feel of his strong body so close to mine and knowing it was something I could never have.

"This whole mess started at the ball," Soul asserted, still glaring. "You've been acting weird since that dance. I figured maybe if I recreated it, I could figure out what the hell went wrong."

"Nothing went wrong!" I shook my head, trying not to meet his eyes without blatantly avoiding his gaze. "It had nothing to do with the dance..."

"Bullshit," he interrupted, eyes narrowing. "I'm not giving up this easily, Maka. I'll get it out of you one way or another. What are you hiding from me?"

"I'm not hiding anything!" I realized I sounded hysterical, but I couldn't seem to calm myself. The wild beating of my heart made my voice shake and my whole body tremble. "Soul, let me go! I don't want to do this."

His hands tightened on me, and he growled. "I don't care," he snapped back. "Prove it. If you're not hiding anything, then resonate with me."

"What?" I thought I'd been panicked before. Now I learned a whole new definition of the word.

"Resonate with me," he insisted. "Do that, prove to me that you're not hiding something and really want me gone, and I'll go. I'll never bother you again. But not until you prove it."

I felt his soul pushing at mine, almost shoving, threatening to roll right over me. Frantically I tried to break free, but he had me well and truly caught in his arms and he was so much stronger than I was. I had two choices; resonate, or shield myself from him completely. If I did that, I knew I would never be able to synch with him again. Let him find out the truth, or lose him forever?

I'd thought I had already made that horrible decision when I'd chosen to set him free, but given a second chance my heart betrayed me. I'd been so miserable without him, so lonely and desperate to have him back, that I found myself matching with his soul despite my best intentions to shut him out.

I felt the merge begin, felt his wild anger sweep over me - followed by crushing despair and almost paralysing fear. I hadn't even thought he was capable of feeling those things, and it caught me completely by surprise. The shock made me forget to struggle for a moment, and before I knew it the merge was complete.

Our souls resonated together, sparking and flaring against each other occasionally because of the friction between us. It was far from the best resonance we'd ever achieved, but it served its purpose.

His recreation of the dance we'd shared at the ball meant that my thoughts and feelings about that event were close to the surface. I had no hope of hiding them, and I felt him absorb them all. The way being so close to him had made me feel; the awareness of how much he'd grown; my sudden realization of what was wrong with me; even the horrible jealousy I'd felt when he'd danced with Liz. It was all right there, written large across my heart for him to see.

"That's it?" he said, incredulous. "That's what you've been hiding? That's why you tried to break up our partnership?"

Then, to my shock, he started to laugh. It was a real laugh, not just a chuckle. His body shook so hard with it that he finally stopped dancing and lowered his face to bury it in my hair, though he didn't loosen his grip. All I could sense from him was overwhelming relief, bordering on hysteria. There was more beneath that, but I couldn't reach past without increasing our connection further.

Of all the possible ways I'd imagined he might react if he ever found out, this definitely wasn't one of them. I stared at his chest as he laughed, nonplussed and a little hurt. I started to struggle against the resonance again, trying to break free and distance myself from him. "What the hell is funny about all this?" I finally demanded.

"I thought you'd found someone else you wanted as your partner more, and you were trying to let me down easy," Soul said, his voice choked with laughter. "I was starting to seriously wonder if I could get away with just killing whoever it was, so you'd have to take me back again."

"Of course not!" I was horrified by the very idea. The thought of having to find a new partner after he'd moved on would have been depressing even without taking into account my crush on him. Find someone I wanted more than Soul? Impossible.

He was still laughing, and I started to get mad. How dared he act like it was some kind of.. of... of joke? How could he have resonated so closely to me, and yet brush off my feelings like this? "Well, I'm glad someone is entertained by this," I said coldly, my hand itching for the weight of my book. If I'd had it with me, I'd have hit him so hard he wouldn't wake up for a week. "Let me go. You got your answer."

"Maka..." He pulled back and looked at me, but though he opened his mouth several times, nothing came out. There was an odd look in his eyes, like a flame burning behind the red iris that threatened to eat me alive. I could feel an answering fire deep in his soul, reaching towards me, and I shied away from it. Finally he just shook his head and gave me a crooked smile. "You're an idiot," he told me, his voice husky.

Then he shocked me again by leaning down and kissing me.

I made a startled noise, my lips parting slightly, and he took advantage of it by pressing his tongue deeper into my mouth. The feel of it trailing slowly over the surface of my lips was like lightning pouring through my body, and he licked at every inch like he was trying to memorize the taste of me. I could feel the barest hint of the sharpness of his teeth, and every time they grazed my skin an extra jolt shot through me.

The physical sensation alone would have been enough for me to drown in, but the connection brought our souls close together again. I was deluged with a rush of emotions from him that threatened to sweep me away entirely. Love, lust, and need; desire and joy and relief; a fierce exultation and determination not to ever, ever let me go again.

When he finally pulled back I gasped for air, my body urgently reminding me that oxygen was more necessary than pulling him back down to kiss me again. I wasn't sure I agreed, but maybe it was for the best. There were questions I needed answered before I could begin to sort out my own feelings. "What about Liz?"

"Liz? What about her?" Soul asked, his brows drawing together in a puzzled frown. "She's not a part of this."

"She's your girlfriend! Of course she's a part of this!" I protested, my heart sinking. Was Soul more like my Papa than I'd thought? Could he go so easily from one lover to the next, taking his own pleasure without any thought for the heartbroken woman he left behind? I'd thought he was different, better than that, but...

"My girlfriend?" I could feel his shock. He stared blankly at me. "Where the hell did you get that idea?"

Despite myself a rush of memories swept over me, and I knew he could see them as well. The two of them dancing, Patti telling me about Liz's feelings, the way they'd spent so much time together afterwards - and most damning of all, the words I'd accidentally overheard the night of the ball, when she'd spent the night at our apartment, with him.

"Stupid." He shook me slightly, to bring my focus back to him in the present. He was scowling at me, but I could feel the warmth of his rather smug amusement through our bond. "She didn't spend the night. Though, not for lack of trying on her part. As if I'd let myself be distracted when I was worried about you being sick. As if I'd want some other girl, at all!"

"But... but I saw the way you looked at her," I said, confused. I could tell he wasn't lying, but it didn't match what I'd seen and heard for myself. "When you were dancing, and after..."

"Sure, she's hot," he said with a shrug. "Why shouldn't I look? I was flattered she wanted me so bad."

He wasn't telling the whole truth, I could sense that. Slowly but steadily our synchronization was improving, our souls coming closer to truly merging than ever before. There was a complicated mix of emotions whenever he thought about Liz; not nearly as intense as what I'd felt from him when he'd kissed me, but it wasn't as straightforward as he was making it out to be.

He must have felt my disbelief, because he sighed. "All right, yes, I thought about taking her up on it," he admitted. "She offered herself, no strings attached. I've been so frustrated, waiting so long for you to notice me back, not even sure you would ever look at me that way. But in the end, I couldn't do it. I want you, not her."

"B-but... but she's so much more attractive than I am," I said in a small voice, hating myself for sounding like a little girl begging for reassurance. "She's older, and she knows what to wear to make herself look good, and she uses makeup and nail polish, and she's got a much bigger chest..." How often had he teased me about not being very well developed? I knew I wasn't, I could hardly avoid realizing it, but I'd never felt so self-conscious about it before.

"So? Maybe I like flat-chested girls," he said, his voice gone deep and husky. The sound matched the heat of his emotions, and both made me shiver.

He tugged my hand with his to get me moving, and started dancing again. We were closer now, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body, close enough to smell the intoxicating scent of him. But we still weren't touching anywhere other than our clasped hands, his hand at my waist and mine on his shoulder.

That reminded me of the reason I'd been so jealous of him dancing with Liz in the first place. "Why don't you dance with me like you did with her?" I demanded, trying to sound firm and not let him feel how much I'd been hurt by it. "I have to blackmail you to dance with me and you do it like you can't wait to get away, but you seemed to be enjoying yourself with her."

"Because I don't have the same problem dancing with her that I do with you," he told me, giving me a sardonic grin.

"P-problem?" I sputtered, incensed. I wasn't that bad a dancer! I hadn't stepped on his foot once at the ball. I'd spent hours practicing alone in my room, just so he wouldn't have that excuse not to dance with me again.

"Not that," he growled. "This." He slid his arm all the way around my waist and cinched me close to him, pulling me right up on tiptoe as he leaned down to kiss me again, hard.

And suddenly I knew exactly what his 'problem' was, because I could feel him hot and solid against me, his body's interest in mine unmistakable. I could also feel what he felt, feel how much it affected him to have me so close to him. I squeaked into his mouth, my heart racing as I felt a blush warm my cheeks. He chuckled, the same rich, sensuous sound I'd heard him make when dancing with Liz.

He didn't hold me there long, just enough to get his point across. Then he let me slide down his body to stand properly, but still held me much closer than before. When he broke the kiss this time I hid my face against his shoulder, embarrassed. Not by what he'd done so much as my own reaction to it. He made me feel as shameless as... as Blair. And worse, I knew he could sense that in me.

"S-soul," I whispered, my voice shaking. "I... I can't..." Part of me wanted to fling myself at him and find out just how good it would feel to do something like that while our souls resonated so closely, but the rest of me knew I would regret rushing into it, later. "I'm not ready..."

"I can wait," he said, the hand at my back slowly stroking up and down my spine in a way that was both soothing and maddening at the same time. "It wouldn't be cool at all to push you. At least now I have hope." Gently he let up on the pressure of his soul, and allowed the connection to fade. There were two of us again, instead of one soul with two minds and two bodies.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" I asked. It wasn't like Soul not to speak his mind about something he wanted.

"I did," he said. "How many different ways do I have to say 'I'd die to protect you' before you get the idea?"

"Oh." That left me speechless for a moment, as I thought about all the times he'd risked his life to protect me, and the way he'd always, always put me first. "Why didn't I ever feel it when we resonated, then?" I was absolutely certain I'd never felt anything from him before that was at all like what I'd sensed when we'd kissed.

He snorted in amusement. "Because, apparently unlike you, I'm capable of keeping my mind on business. I'm not thinking about that in the middle of a battle, only about how to win and keep you safe."

I smacked him on the chest, hard, because he deserved it. He winced, but just held me a little tighter in response. "So, are you going to come home, now?" he asked. "Or am I going to have to drag you?"

"Not yet," I said, and smiled against his shoulder when he growled.

"What? Why not?" he demanded. "What the hell do I have to do to get you to..."

I couldn't quite reach high enough to kiss him to shut him up, so I compromised by putting a hand over his mouth. He glared down at me, his eyes intense with frustrated emotion, and I smiled at him.

"You still owe me a full dance, first" I told him firmly. "You're not wiggling off the hook that easily."

Slowly he smiled, the curve of his lips against my palm making me shiver. I pulled it away, and the fanged grin he was giving me was full of something that was both a threat and a promise. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said. "You can have as many dances as you want. I like having you this close, now that I don't have to worry about you getting too close and freaking out on me."

"Then we might not get home for a while," I said, and tucked my head under his chin.

He chuckled again and tightened his hold on me. "Good thing this CD is long, then."

I sighed with happiness. Liz would just have to live with disappointment. He's my partner, and we fit too perfectly together. Body, mind - and Soul.

[Fic] It's My Party... - Zombie Loan, Chika/Shito, 6/6

2009-02-22T17:49:04Z

At last, the final chapter. Maybe someday we'll get around to writing the second story, but don't hold your breath. >.< We're lazy, and have both already moved on with other things.

Title: It's My Party...
Series: Zombie Loan
Pairing: Chika/Shito
Rating: NC-17
Warning: yaoi, language, arguing, zombies
Chapter Length: 2945
Total Length: 31,994

Chika didn't realize anything was wrong until Shito approached Michiru and started thanking her for helping him when he was injured. Even then Chika simply watched in shock, thinking Shito was finally learning the lesson that there were actually people who cared about him...

...until Shito asked out of the blue if he could kiss Michiru.

Chika growled, his expression thunderous. There was only one reason Shito would just go around throwing himself at people like that.

Over in the corner, Soutetsu was laughing his head off. "You got into my tequila by accident, didn't you Shito?" he howled. "Your habit of hitting on the girls is as bad as ever."

That, of course, only drew Shito's attention. To Chika's further irritation, the other boy then hovered over Soutetsu and blithely asked if he could kiss him. Soutetsu, the letch, agreed of course. "Oh, bring it on!"

Chika couldn't take it any more. "Oi! Shito," he snarled, hurt and trying very hard not to show it. "Can't you keep it in your damned pants?"

Not like he'd never seen Shito do this before, he reminded himself grumpily, huffing and turning away so he wouldn't have to watch if Shito did kiss Soutetsu. Hell, it was how he and Shito had gotten together in the first place.

Only, since that night, he couldn't remember Shito ever asking to kiss anyone but him. Fuck, it was about the only time he got any real affection out of the prickly bastard.

Shito was just leaning in to kiss Soutetsu when he heard Akatsuki's words. He was distracted, befuddled by the tequila he hadn't meant to drink, and turned to look at the other boy.

Unfortunately, Akatsuki's words didn't do anything to change the unfounded opinion that had had him throwing himself at everyone but Akatsuki the moment he was drunk.

The fact was, Akatsuki understood now. He knew what Shito was, and how much of a monster he really was. Though he knew Michiru and Soutetsu knew it as well, it was somehow different, because in all the months that he and Akatsuki had been sleeping together off and on, one thought had kept him going. The thought that so long as Akatsuki didn't know what he was, he would keep treating him like a person.

Apparently he'd been staring at Akatsuki a little too long, because Soutetsu gave him a shove. "He's the one you really want, isn't it?" he guffawed. "Though I certainly wouldn't mind a bit of that pretty ass of yours, Shito."

As Shito stumbled back towards Akatsuki, he felt Soutetsu's hand take a sampling of that pretty ass, and then give it a whack.

Chika hadn't been aware that he was capable of moving that fast. Actually, he hadn't even been aware that he was planning on moving at all, until he found himself halfway across the room with Soutetsu's wrist in a crushing grip, snarling into his senpai's face. He was tipsy himself - he'd been curious to try the tequila, and it wasn't half bad, but unlike Shito he'd been aware of what he was drinking.

"Hands off," he growled at Soutetsu, knowing a drunken Shito would be even less likely to object to the handling than Shito normally would, and that was saying something. So Chika would protest for him.

Soutetsu just smirked at him, of course. He'd been there when the whole thing had started, and Chika was pretty sure he knew it was still going on, given the comment he'd just made. "Maa, maa, Chika," he said, in that mock-soothing tone he had that irritated Chika so much. "I didn't mean any harm..."

Chika released him and jerked away. In the same motion he caught Shito by the arm and hauled him towards the door, his face set and eyes snapping with anger. "You. Come with me. We need to talk."

Shito's reflexes were definitely not what they should be, and he had barely realized that Akatsuki was intervening before he suddenly found himself hauled out the door by a livid boy.

"Talk?" he protested, though he didn't actually fight as he was dragged along. "I don't like talking."

Well, it was true.

Tough!" Chika snapped, glaring at him. "You're doing it anyway!"

"Chika-san..." Michiru started tentatively, probably planning to try to intervene and stop them from killing each other. Chika gave her a glare unlike any he'd ever before levelled at the inoffensive girl - usually he reserved that level of intensity for Shito alone. She gulped and took a step back, waving her hands wildly to show she wasn't going to say anything further. Just before they left Shito's room, he saw Soutetsu grab her by the arm and pull her down to whisper urgently into her ear.

Well, if she hadn't known about this particular detail of his fucked-up relationship with Shito before, she would now. Chika was so far beyond caring it wasn't even funny.

Shito grumbled under his breath as Akatsuki dragged him off. "Let me go," he suddenly said, raising his voice and trying to tug his hand from Akatsuki's grasp. "S-Stop it. I...I don't want you to do this right now. You know I'm a monster."

To his drunken brain, all of this made complete sense. It was probably lucky that there was no one around to hear him talking like this.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Chika refused to let up on his grip until he had them both safely in his room with the door closed behind them. Not that a simple door would stop some of the others from eavesdropping, but at least they wouldn't be able to see anything. "What exactly don't you want me to do, huh? What, I'm not good enough any more? Decided Michiru or Soutetsu is more to your taste?"

He snarled, hurt and trying to cover it with righteous anger, but not doing a very good job. Despite their mutual antipathy, he'd thought maybe, maybe there was starting to be something more than just irritation and good sex between him and Shito. And then the asshole had to haul off and do something like this.

Abruptly Chika slumped, and let go of Shito's arm. "I don't even know why I'm bothering," he muttered, turning away and rubbing a hand over his weary eyes. "Do what you want. Not like I've got any say in it. But don't expect to crawl out of their beds and into mine. I don't share."

Shito stood where he was, his head hanging. He'd never let Akatsuki get to him like this if he were sober, but when he was drunk the emotions were so much closer to the surface, boiling and seething inside him and he was so much less able to cope with them.

"You'll be like them, now," he said tonelessly. "You know I'm nothing. I'm just a monster. I'm not a person."

"Oh, bullshit!" Chika exploded, turning back and slamming his hand into the wall just beside Shito's head. He'd been very, very tempted to punch the asshole instead, but he'd once promised Shito that he would never take out his anger on the prick in bed. They weren't exactly making out, but sex was the centre of this whole discussion so that was close enough.

But gods, it was tempting.

"Why, because you were born a zombie? So fucking what?" Chika raged. "When have I ever treated you the way you expected me to, huh? Why do you keep thinking so fucking little of me?"

Shito flinched away from the blow, anyway, as if Akatsuki had meant to hit him and only missed.

If he were sober, this conversation would be going entirely differently. He struggled just to think, and it wasn't working terribly well. "I don't think little of you. They...they hurt me, because I'm not a person," he said, his gaze fixed at a point somewhere on the floor.

"I...I always thought," he said softly. "It was good that you thought I was a person, because that was why you were always so nice to me. There's no point in being nice, now."

He couldn't quite figure out how to convey that it wasn't that he thought badly of Akatsuki. He thought badly of himself.

If not for the fact that he already had a pretty damned good idea of just how far Shito had been broken - and what that bastard Toho had probably done to break him - Chika might have lost it entirely.

As it was, he turned away and took a couple of deep breaths, struggling for control of his temper, his shoulders so tight it was a wonder the tendons didn't snap. "Don't you ever compare me with that asshole of an exorcist," he snarled. "I'm nothing like him, got it? So what if you were born a zombie? You're still you, and you're still as alive as the rest of us. It doesn't give you any more right to be a prick than anyone else has. And it doesn't give me any more right to hurt you. Got it?"

At least now that he knew how long Shito had been alive, the incredibly twisted depths of the other 'boy's' mind finally started to make some sense.

Shito looked up, his expression almost vulnerable as he looked at Akatsuki. He...knew? He knew Toho?

He swallowed, hard. "You met Toho?" he asked. Then his eyes widened with concern and he grabbed Akatsuki by the shoulder, turning him around. "What did he do to you? Did he hurt you?" His eyes travelled over Akatsuki's body, as if searching for signs of a wound. Of course, even if Toho had hurt him, obviously the signs would have been long gone by now. Akatsuki hadn't been injured when he arrived to rescue Shito, after all.

Or 'rescue' him, in any case. He had only retrieved his hand. Shito was the one who rescued him, later.

Chika would have snapped at him, if he hadn't seen the genuine panic in Shito's eyes. Grudgingly he admitted, "The bastard came to the Ferryman's office to tell us you'd been taken. He did... something. I don't know. I couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but just stare at him like... like a landed fish!" The memory sat very badly with him, even now. "And later he attacked Michiru and I." Soutetsu had rescued them that time, but he saw no particular reason to tell Shito that. Let him think Chika had gotten out of it on his own. He would have. Soutetsu had just... sped things up a little.

He looked back at Shito, losing some of his anger as his eyes grew serious. "He's the one, isn't he. That hurt you." He didn't make it a question, because Shito would only dodge a question, probably try to insist that nobody had ever hurt him. The words had never actually been said aloud between them, after all.

Shito swallowed hard. Right now, even if Akatsuki had framed it as a question, he might have been honest. There was no point in trying to hide it, and there was a part of him that desperately wanted the other boy to understand. There had been so many misunderstandings, he now realized, and even though it was still very hard to trust him, right now he wanted to avoid any more.

"He is only the most recent," he said, his voice thick with shame. "The exorcists have always hurt me, since I was very young. For 150 years, they've hurt me, and no one has ever been...the way you've been."

His voice was a little bit pleading. Was it so difficult to understand why he had expected Akatsuki to treat him like all the rest?

"Well, I'm not one of them," Chika snapped, glaring at Shito and fiercely willing him to believe it. "Got it? I don't give a fuck whether you were born as a human or a zombie or a potato chip! You're who you are now, and that hasn't changed since before you were stupid enough to get yourself kidnapped, so why would I change the way I act? And I swear to the gods, Shito, the next time you accuse me of behaving like they would, I'll..." punch you out, he wanted to say, except that would only be doing exactly what Shito expected - hurting him, just like the exorcists had.

"I'll think of some kind of suitably dire punishment," he muttered instead, irritated that he couldn't come up with anything better. "Maybe I'll just tease you for an hour and not let you come, until you apologize properly." There, that was more like it.

Shito was silent for a moment, then stepped forward and slipped his arms around Akatsuki's neck. "I got it," he said, though his voice was still a little nervous.

"I didn't...mean to equate you with them," he added lamely. "It's just that no one's treated me like you, before. And I thought you hated me for so long. And I didn't believe that I could have friends. So I was just waiting for you to change your mind and decide it was more fun the other way..."

A part of him that was still at least a little sober couldn't believe he was saying this so openly and honestly.

"I do hate you, asshole," Chika said, but his heart wasn't in it and he turned to catch Shito's waist and pull him closer, putting the lie to his words. He sighed and buried his face in Shito's shoulder, not teasing the skin of his neck yet, just soaking up the other boy's presence. He'd been worried, damn it, far more worried than he'd let on to the others, and not just because his hand had been rotting right off his arm. Part of him had been terrified that he would never see Shito alive again - or that even if they managed to rescue him, Xu Fu would just come along and take him away.

Actually that was still a possibility, but Chika was trying not to think about it. "Just 'cause I don't like you much doesn't mean you can just go kissing anyone you want, though," he growled, turning his head to nip lightly at Shito's neck. "You're mine. At least, you are as long as you want to keep doing this with me. You can leave any time you wanna, but I'm not fucking sharing."

Shito stiffened guiltily, then sagged a little. There was no way he could promise that. Not with Toho around. But perhaps Akatsuki already understood that. Well, he would do his best, regardless. At least with Michiru and Soutetsu, it hadn't been anything serious. Just a passing fancy from the alcohol, and he'd been too nervous to go after Akatsuki himself.

"All right, fine," he said softly, sliding his arms up and wrapping them tightly around the other boy. "No one else."

"All right," Chika said gruffly, holding Shito just as tightly in return. This had to be one of the most fucked-up relationships he'd ever heard of. Talk about 'co-dependant', for one thing. On the other hand, he didn't think he'd have it any other way. For it to be different, Shito would have to be different, and - as much as Chika sometimes hated him - he didn't want the arrogant prick to change. Much.

Before his thoughts could get any more disgustingly maudlin, he pulled back and kissed Shito fiercely - but gently, knowing his lingering temper would carry him away if he wasn't careful. The last thing he wanted to do was break his promise not to take anything out on Shito in bed.

Shito returned the kiss with equal passion, allowing the surge of hormones and arousal to mix with the lingering alcohol in his system to carry thought away. For a long moment, as they tore each other's clothes off and stumbled towards the bed, he didn't worry about Toho or think about monsters or zombies.

Later, he curled up next to Akatsuki and listened to him breathe. A part of him still couldn't reconcile this with the battles they fought on a daily basis, but the rest of him was aware that the fights had rarely been serious for some time.

"Don't think this means I like you," he muttered, pillowing his head on Akatsuki's shoulder and cinching his arm around him tightly. Because the forms had to be followed.

He was pretty sure he didn't want to go back to his room tonight. Akatsuki's bed was small, but comfortable, and there were probably still party hats and confetti lurking in Shito's room.

"Didn't we already cover this?" Chika asked, yawning and turning over so he could hitch Shito a little closer. He liked it when the other boy stuck around afterwards. Not for some kind of gay cuddling thing or something, but just because... it was nice, to have another warm body there, to keep that tacit reassurance that he was alive and feeling.

"At least I finally got you to call me Chika," he said, smiling into Shito's hair. "You know I'm never gonna give up on that, right?"

"Hmph," Shito grumbled. "Of course not. You don't give up on anything," he growled.

He burrowed a little closer and closed his eyes. "Just go to sleep...Chika," he mumbled resentfully.

That earned him a delighted smile from Chika, though Shito wouldn't have been able to see it in the dark. "Sleep well, Shito," Chika murmured in turn.

We may yet survive being linked to each other after all.

[Fic] It's My Party... - Zombie Loan, Chika/Shito, 5/6

2009-02-11T14:59:09Z

Sorry for taking so long with this part *sweatdrops* We've been going back and forth, trying to decide if we're likely ever to write the second story, and it's looking less like we will with every passing week. Which is a shame, but taking the first chapter of the second story and sticking it on the end of this one actually wraps things up surprisingly nicely. If we ever do decide to write '...And I'll Die If I Want To', we can always take that chapter out of this story again. *grins*

Title: It's My Party...
Series: Zombie Loan
Pairing: Chika/Shito
Rating: NC-17
Warning: yaoi, language, arguing, zombies
Chapter Length: 6805
Total Length: 29,049

Shito worried at the problem for the next few days. Akatsuki hadn't renewed his attention, but that wasn't unusual. They had gone days or even weeks without having sex many times before, and it was likely that Akatsuki was tired or simply not in the mood. But the fact that he hadn't tried to make Shito make it up to him in any way only added to the perplexity.

Finally, on the third evening, when the signs of Toho's torture had faded completely, Shito went to Akatsuki's door and knocked.

He really had no idea what was going to come out of his mouth when Akatsuki answered the door, but he stood there nervously, waiting.

Chika had been playing loud music on his headphones while he studied, so he almost didn't hear the knock. It intruded on his conscious awareness in a belated sort of way, and he blinked and lifted his head. Pulling the headphones off, he turned to look at the door. "Yeah? C'mon in, not like it locks," he invited whoever was out there. Michiru, probably, or maybe Koyomi come to ask him for something. Maybe Bekko had summoned them again. That would be good, since it would probably mean either a free meal or a target to hunt.

Shito opened the door at the invitation and paused, staring at the boy on the bed.

"I..." he said. Maybe this was a bad time.

But no, he had chosen this time. He had chosen it.

He crossed the room quickly and sat down on the bed. "I'm ready now," he blurted, feeling like an idiot.

"Ha?" Chika stared at him, baffled, notebook dangling forgotten from his fingers. It didn't take a genius to realize that Shito wasn't talking about being ready to hunt or something like that. The only time Shito ever showed that particular mix of stiffness and submission was when they were doing something sexual.

But this was the first time Shito had initiated anything since the very first encounter, and then he'd been drunk. Chika's eyes narrowed and he sat up, the music still blaring from the headphones hanging around his neck. "Hey, wait a sec. You're not drunk again, are you?"

Shito twitched with irritation at the question. The stupidity of the question served to dispel some of his nerves and he squared his shoulders, fixing Akatsuki with a glare. "Is it so impossible to think I might want sex when I'm not drunk?" he asked irritably. "If you think I only want you when I'm drunk, then why have you been throwing yourself at me every few days like a horny rabbit?"

So far, so good. Right?

Maybe?

Chika's lips twitched, and he choked down a snicker. That would probably just make Shito punch him, and if the asshole was finally making a first move, Chika didn't want to scare him off. "C'mon, gimme a break!" he protested. "It's been like, six months and the only time you've ever come to me instead of the other way around was when you were drunk!" He shook his head, and allowed the grin to escape. "But hey, not like I'm complaining. You're as welcome to jump me as the other way around."

He shut off his music and tossed the headphones aside, leaning forward but not quite closing the distance between them. He was going to make Shito start, damn it. "Well?"

Shito's eyes widened faintly and he looked a bit like a deer caught in headlights. "W-well I didn't think you had a problem with it," he snorted. "It seemed like you liked making the first move."

Why wasn't Akatsuki closing the distance between them? It was weird. Shito had registered his desire, after all. What was he waiting for?

Was he really...waiting for Shito? He hesitated, then leaned forward a little further, kissing Akatsuki with a bit more tentativeness then he intended.

Chika returned the kiss with interest, and he only made Shito keep up control for a few moments before he reached up and caught the other boy at the back of the neck with one hand, firming the kiss and taking control of it. Shito was so obviously uncomfortable with taking the lead in a sexual situation it was funny. Chika had made the point he wanted to make, and gotten the confirmation he needed that Shito wasn't just tolerating him but actively wanted it in turn.

He shifted forward until he was kneeling instead of sitting, and that put him above Shito, with Shito's head forced back at an angle in order to maintain the kiss. Chika kept his firm grip on the back of Shito's neck, but let his fingertips wander more gently over the sensitive skin of the side.

Okay, this was ground that Shito had covered before, and he felt himself relaxing as Akatsuki took control of the kiss. He moaned softly as Akatsuki shifted up and forced his head back, holding him steady.

So far the experiment was going very well. Better than he had expected, actually. Akatsuki actually seemed to care if he really wanted it, and from what he'd said it sounded like he'd been...worried. That still blew Shito's mind a bit. Akatsuki, to the best of his knowledge, didn't like him very much. Oh sure, he acted like a friend sometimes, but neither of them would admit that they were friends on pain of death, and they fought constantly. Why should bed be any different?

And yet, it was starting to seem like it might be. Different.

He reached up and took hold of Akatsuki's shirt, slowly undoing the buttons.

Feeling Shito relax into the embrace, Chika knew he'd made the right choice. When Shito started undoing the buttons on his shirt Chika made a purring noise of pleasure, and swiped his tongue over a particularly sensitive spot in reward. At this point they both knew each other's bodies as well as any two people could - what each of them liked, what they didn't like, and where and how it felt best.

He ran his other hand up under Shito's shirt, teasing by dragging the edges of his nails over the taut skin and peaked nipples.

Shito grunted and moaned softly as Akatsuki brushed his fingers over his nipples. He opened Akatsuki's shirt and ran his own fingers over the other boy's chest in turn, then performed the next bit of rebellion he had planned.

He broke the kiss and ducked his head down without waiting for Akatsuki to bring the kiss to an end and free his mouth. Before Akatsuki could protest, he latched nervously onto the other boy's chest and flicked his tongue against his peaked nipple.

He had lain awake for the last few days considering what he might do if he had total freedom and didn't have to worry. He had recalled the time he had asked for permission, and Akatsuki had been so surprised, and decided to try something like this. Perhaps planning out a sexual encounter seemed odd to some, but to someone like Shito, it seemed logical.

It was surprise as much as arousal that made Chika moan, but he arched back to give Shito better access, the hand at Shito's neck drifting upwards to thread fingers through that beautiful dark hair. Shito was being unusually aggressive tonight. Chika didn't know if he was trying to make a point, or just finally comfortable enough with this to try getting some of his own back, but either way he didn't mind. Having one place where he got to dominate Shito was fun, but as long as Shito didn't try to take control in bed every time, like he did in the rest of their lives, Chika didn't mind giving it up once in a while.

Shito hadn't meant to take control, precisely, and he fully expected Akatsuki to reassert control at some point very soon. And yet, he continued not to do so, just moaning and petting him and arching to make it easier for Shito to do what he was doing.

It was...strange, and not unpleasant. Under other circumstances, without the thunder of Shito's heart roaring in his ears, he might have really come to enjoy it. As it was, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He left off torturing the other boy's nipples for a moment and lifted his head, nibbling at Akatsuki's earlobe. "What would you do," he whispered, trying to pitch his tone jokingly. It sounded a little bit wrong coming from him, but he needed an answer to a question he was definitely not courageous enough to test experimentally. "If I decided I didn't want to do this after all?"

"Wh-what, right now?" Chika stammered, looking down at him in confusion. His gaze was a little befuddled; Shito had been doing a damned good job with his tongue, as usual, and lust always made it harder to think. Shito couldn't be serious. Could he? "Why would you come to me if you didn't wanna?"

Surely Chika hadn't done something to make him change his mind. Or had giving up that bit of control been the wrong thing to do? Maybe Shito had been testing him, and didn't like the result. Growling, Chika let his head drop back again, his fingers tightening in Shito's hair. He really, really hoped that hadn't been a serious question.

Akatsuki's reaction didn't give Shito a lot of confidence. He hesitated, frowning, since he hadn't gotten the straight answer he'd hoped for. "I...I didn't say I didn't want to," he rallied uncertainly. "I just asked a hypothetical question. Forget it."

He growled and bent his head again, licking at Akatsuki's chest once again as his hand dropped down to Akatsuki's waistband.

It sounded like Akatsuki would definitely object under those circumstances. He hadn't sounded angry, per se, and it wasn't like Shito couldn't overpower him if he needed to, but he had definitely not sounded pleased. It was very different from the refusal from a few days before, when he'd backed off with no questions asked.

Something wasn't sitting right with Chika. This whole encounter just seemed off from start to finish. Shito hadn't answered his question - just told him to forget it. But something told Chika this was too important to just shrug off as 'Shito being weird'.

"Oi, wait, wait," he gasped, somehow finding the strength of will to grab Shito's wrist and stop him before he got more than the belt undone. Taking a deep breath and trying to calm his raging hormones so he could think, he studied Shito's expression. "What are you asking, exactly?"

Fuck, this was what Shito had been afraid of. He looked away, unable to meet Akatsuki's eyes. "I was just asking," he growled. "Just...just teasing you. You're being so passive tonight, I wondered if you'd just let me get up and walk out of here anytime I wanted."

There, that sounded reasonable, right? Run through the Shito-filter, that seemed like a reasonable question.

Never mind that the answer of what Akatsuki would do should have been obvious to any normal person from the start.

"I am not being passive," Chika retorted, stung. "Geez, just 'cause I let you take the lead for once! Ungrateful. Of course I would!" Couldn't Shito just ask a damned simple question without turning it into a power game?

It took Shito a second to understand what Akatsuki had actually said, and not what it sounded like he was saying, but at the last moment he stopped himself from saying 'really?'.

He eyed Akatsuki for a moment, then smirked. "Well, fine then," he said. "How hard was it to answer a simple question, anyway?"

And he leaned in to resume the kiss, a little shocked by how relieved he was.

Chika made a muffled noise of protest, but he was more interested in continuing what they were doing than in picking a fight with Shito. Even if it was really something that deserved to have a fight picked over it. He kissed back fiercely, growling and trying to disprove that 'passive' comment from before.

When they separated for air again, though, he couldn't stop himself from snapping, "You make it sound like you thought I'd keep you here and rape you whether you want it or not! Fucking hell, Shito, just what the fuck do you think of me, anyway?"

Shito was silent for a moment. Maybe a hair too long. "I don't think that," he said. "Don't be stupid. I could fight you off, anyway, even if you were inclined."

He didn't want to pick a fight with Akatsuki, either. He had been worried about angering the other boy, but not in this way. It hadn't occurred to him that Akatsuki would be offended by his questions, that what Shito had worried he would do would be offensive to him to even contemplate.

Though he understood the concept of rape and that most people didn't engage in it, he hadn't really expected that that applied to him.

"Like I would ever even think about it!" Chika yelled, incensed by that pause and what it implied. "You've got a damned high opinion of your own irresistibility! Asshole!" He punched Shito in the shoulder - hard.

Then he kissed him again, because it was that or hit him again, and he didn't really want to hit him. It pissed him off beyond belief that Shito could ever think he was capable of something like that. Yet... the fact that Shito had thought he needed to test Chika, when Chika had certainly never given him any reason to think it was necessary... and Shito was awfully good at sex. And so uncharacteristically passive about it...

Was it possible there had been someone in Shito's past who hadn't stopped?

Not like Chika was going to change a damned thing if it was true. Shito would neither welcome nor appreciate any hint of pity on Chika's part.

Shito flinched a little when Akatsuki yelled at him and then kissed him hard. He could feel the anger resonating through the other boy and he reached up and curled his fingers in the open flaps of other boy's shirt, struggling to just return the kiss with enthusiasm instead of being stiff and nervous like he wanted to be.

He really hadn't meant to piss Akatsuki off.

Slowly, his hands started to move again, hoping to soothe Akatsuki's anger by distracting and pleasuring him. His one hand brushed against Akatsuki's nipple while the other went after his fly again.

This time Chika didn't protest when Shito went after his pants. Indeed he returned the favour, fumbling with Shito's belt and fly a little more roughly than he'd actually intended to, anger making him impatient. He pulled away from the kiss but immediately dropped his mouth down along the curve of Shito's jaw to his neck, biting and sucking to leave small marks behind. Let Shito bitch at him. It could be his form of penance for thinking such a rotten thing of Chika.

He got his hand around Shito's cock and stroked slowly, putting enough pressure into his grip that it would be just on the right side of painful.

Shito was starting to get very, very nervous. He opened Akatsuki's pants and slipped a hand inside, stroking the other boy's cock with much less pressure then Akatsuki was using on him. It wasn't painful, but the threat was there, and he was cursing himself for having provoked the other boy at all.

I knew it, he thought irrationally. How could I have been so stupid? Now, he was certain that Akatsuki was going to hurt him. He was just gearing up for it, that's all.

"I-I'm sorry," he said softly, though he knew it wouldn't do any good.

"Idiot," Chika accused him, still more than irritated. He did ease his grip a bit, but he nipped at Shito' shoulder again instead. "Don't fucking apologize to get me to stop, moron! Just tell me if I do something you don't like! I'm not a fucking mindreader!"

Damn it, now he was second-guessing himself. He'd thought that Shito hadn't objected to the things they'd done because Shito liked them too. What if he'd been wrong? What if all this time Shito had been going along because he'd thought he didn't have a choice? Would Chika ever know for sure? How was he supposed to trust that Shito would tell him if something was bad in the future? How could he possibly know where the lines were?

Shito's breathing was starting to quicken, and it wasn't entirely from arousal. If he wasn't supposed to apologize, then what was he supposed to do? Apologizing only seemed to have made Akatsuki even more annoyed, and he just wanted the other boy to stop being annoyed at him.

"I...I'm not a mindreader either," he said helplessly. Akatsuki had eased up a bit, but he wasn't sure if that was because he was no longer so angry, or whether it was just coincidence.

Akatsuki's temper was one thing in the normal world. Shito could easily hold his own and give back twice of what he gave. But the last thing he wanted to do was have a fight while half-naked and with the other boy's hand wrapped around his dick. Even if he hadn't already been so hurt in the past, it wouldn't have been an ideal position to be fighting in.

"I just told you, didn't I?" Chika retorted. Gods, why did Shito have to be such a fucking prick?

An idea came to him, and he released Shito's cock, pulling away until he wasn't touching the other boy at all, just glaring at him. "Tell me what you want," he said, his expression and tone an unmistakeable challenge. "Tell me exactly what you want, Shito. I won't do a damned fucking thing unless you tell me to, tonight." And fuck Shito if he thought this was a sign of passivity - it was just a different kind of control, because Shito couldn't force Chika to do anything he didn't want to.

And maybe it would serve as a lesson to Shito about the difference between submission, passiveness, and weakness, as well as reassuring Chika that he wasn't forcing the other boy somehow.

Shito stared at him in shock, flabbergasted by the command and utterly at a loss about what to do. His heart pounded in his ears as he struggled to try to make this fit in with something he knew how to cope with.

But he couldn't. He didn't know where to begin. He was looking out over a minefield, and all he really wanted to do was zip up his pants and run. He'd never thought of sex in terms of what he really wanted. He knew things that felt good, and things that didn't. But as for directing a sexual encounter, he didn't have a clue.

"Akatsuki..." he said softly. "Don't. I...I don't know."

"For fuck's sake, Shito, it's not like it's that hard," Chika said, rolling his eyes. He decided to take some pity on the obviously floundering boy, though. "Fine. Want me to put my hand on your cock?" Maybe if he made the first suggestions, forced Shito to actually think about it and acknowledge each step, that would make it easier. Once Shito got into things, surely he would be able to think of things to tell Chika to do. How hard could it be to come up with things like 'harder', 'faster', 'touch that', 'don't do this'?

Shito considered that suspiciously. "Okay," he said finally, after what probably looked like a bizarrely long deliberation.

He looked away, flushing. "I don't understand why you're being like this," he said awkwardly, his heart set to pounding again as he hoped he wasn't about to make Akatsuki angry all over again. "Why don't you just do what you want? What...what do you get out of making me try to guess?"

Chika was reaching for Shito's cock, but he stopped with his hand an inch from the heated flesh, looking at Shito with a startled expression. After a moment his surprise turned to something close to sympathy, though he buried it deeply under what he hoped looked like resignation. "And here you always claim to be the brains of this operation. Fuck, we're in trouble if you're the smart one. Listen, stupid."

He laid it out slowly and carefully, like he was talking to a particularly slow five-year-old. "I'm not asking you to guess what I want. I just told you what I want. What I want is for you to tell me what you want. Not to just go along with what I'm doing, and not to say what you think I want to hear, but what you want. Consider it an order, if that makes you feel better."

Shito drew in a breath and let it out, trying desperately to believe that Akatsuki was telling the truth, that he really did just want to know what Shito wanted, and would actually do what he wanted.

"All right just...just a minute." He drew away from the reaching hand, struggling to think, and looking away from Akatsuki's face. So soon after Toho's most recent visit, it was even harder to trust the other boy. Toho had all but convinced him that any friendships he might have built were completely false, and he only still believed in those friendships by the thinnest of threads.

"I'm not stupid," he added gruffly. "I don't expect you to understand anything about me. But fine, if it makes you feel better, believe that I'm just too stupid to understand what you're asking for."

He swallowed hard and turned to Akatsuki. Maybe honesty would get him out of this situation. "I want...I want for you to make me feel good, and not to hurt me, and for me to not have to think about what to do next, but just to feel. Is that clear enough for you to comprehend, or do I have to use smaller words?"

Chika coughed to hide a laugh, but his wry grin was clearly visible. "That's cheating," he accused the other boy. "But okay, fine, I get the picture. If we're gonna do it that way, though, there's one thing I want first." He became serious abruptly, staring fiercely into Shito's eyes, willing him to understand how important this was to Chika. "I want you to swear, on your life or your honour or whatever you would swear by, that if I do something you don't like or don't want you will fucking tell me. That clear enough for you, or do I have to use smaller words?" He deliberately echoed Shito's words, and his mocking tone of voice.

"That really matters so much to you," Shito said, feeling, for the first time, obscurely guilty for having equated Akatsuki with the exorcists from the Xu Fu. Perhaps...perhaps because Akatsuki didn't think of him as a monster, he truly didn't see it the same way.

He swallowed, willing himself to internalize his own next words. "I swear on my life that I'll tell you if you do something I don't like," he said firmly. His eyes narrowed. "If you swear that you won't get mad at me or somehow take it out on me if I disappoint you."

Well, that was only fair, Chika supposed. "I swear on my life that I will never take anything out on you through sex, Shito." Shito of all people should know exactly how much value Chika placed on his life, considering how hard he fought to keep it. He shook his head. "Can't really promise much about getting mad - you're too damned good at pushing my buttons. But getting mad at you for being a snarky asshole is one thing. This is something else."

Shito nodded slowly, then smirked wryly. "I don't really expect you not to get mad at me," he admitted. "That'd be pretty much impossible."

He experienced a strange impulse to just come clean, to explain what had happened to him so that he could truly be certain that Akatsuki understood. But it wasn't really necessary, and the thought of speaking about it out loud to anyone filled him with horror.

Slowly, he reached for Akatsuki once again, sliding his arm around his neck and closing in to kiss him once more. Though he was initiating it, there was nothing particularly dominant or aggressive in the movement, which was soft and gentle.

Chika kissed him back, but though he made the embrace fierce it wasn't as harsh or demanding as he usually was in bed. It wasn't the first time he'd been a little gentler - some days he just hadn't been in the mood for 'hard and fast'. But it was more of a deliberate choice tonight, to prove that he was taking Shito's needs and desires into consideration.

He shifted them until Shito was stretched out on his bed and Chika was kneeling above him, knees on either side of Shito's hips and hands just above his shoulders. Chika broke the kiss and trailed his mouth over that strong jawline and supple neck. This was one of his favourite things to do with Shito, partly because of the marks he could leave and partly because of the noises he could wring out of the other boy. This time he was slow and deliberate about it, almost teasing.

Shito felt oddly comfortable without much of the nervousness he often felt. Akatsuki was being especially gentle, and while Shito didn't necessarily need him to be, he felt that it made him feel even more comfortable. Akatsuki was trying to make him feel good, and he sensed that some of this gentleness was to reassure him.

He stretched out on the bed at Akatsuki's urging, tilting his head back a little to give Akatsuki even easier access. His own hands wandered a bit and then delved between Akatsuki's legs, curling around his cock once again and giving him a few slow strokes.

This was...really nice. He'd never thought of sex as being particularly nice, before. It could be stress relief, and it could be pleasurable, but he'd always needed alcohol before he could throw himself into it without reservation or nervousness.

Make you feel good, not hurt you, and make you feel instead of think, huh? Chika remembered Shito's earlier words. All right, I can do that.

He slid his hand inside Shito's already open pants, resuming his grip on the other boy's hard cock. This time he kept his grip firm but not punishing, stroking slowly up and down and rubbing his thumb over the tip with each stroke. With his other hand he finished opening Shito's shirt and pushed it back away from his body, clearing a path for Chika to trail his mouth down over Shito's chest. He paused to lightly flick tongue and teeth over the other boy's nipples, enjoying the noises he got for his efforts. He moved his hips in time with Shito's stroking, encouraging but not demanding, and a few moans of his own slipped from his throat.

Shito's breathing was getting deeper and faster the more Akatsuki did. He was soon writhing helplessly under the onslaught, which was completely pleasurable without even a hint of pain or anything else that might detract from the sensations. He groaned softly at what Akatsuki was doing with his nipples, his own hand's rhythm speeding up quickly.

Akatsuki was definitely holding up his end of the bargain. Shito wasn't thinking - or more importantly, worrying at all, by this point.

It was hard for Chika to focus on what he was doing when Shito's hand was doing such incredible things to him. He was torn - badly torn - between letting Shito continue or stopping him so Chika could concentrate properly.

In the end, he solved the problem by the simple expedient of moving too far down Shito's body for the other boy to reach him anymore. Chika tugged at Shito's pants, pushing them down over his hips, freeing that lovely cock for Chika's full attention. He swiped his tongue lazily over Shito's navel and at the juncture of his thighs and body, teasing, before finally going down far enough to wrap his tongue around the tip.

At the same time he worked one hand between Shito's legs and carefully inserted a finger into the other's body, searching for that spot he'd learned could make a guy see stars.

Shito made a soft noise of distress and disappointment when Akatsuki's cock pulled out of his hand, but a moment later he didn't much care anymore after all. He squirmed at the touch of Akatsuki's tongue, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He was less shocked that Akatsuki would pleasure him this way then he had been the first time - it hadn't been the last, even before today, and he'd come to the conclusion that Akatsuki apparently just liked it.

Today it was even better somehow, though. He rocked helplessly, trying not to thrust into Akatsuki's mouth, but the penetration of Akatsuki's finger and the sparks that the touch sent through him was rapidly breaking down any ability he had to control his own body. It helped - or hindered, depending on your perspective - that he was far less nervous then he had been to disobey or otherwise annoy Akatsuki.

Chika had done this often enough now to have picked up a few tricks not to choke, but he still didn't know if he could handle having Shito thrusting full-on into his mouth. On the other hand, Shito thinking enough not to thrust up at him meant Shito thinking, and that wasn't what he was going for.

Chika braced his forearm across the line of Shito's hips and leaned most of his weight onto it, effectively pinning the other boy to the bed. Shito could squirm and try to thrust as much as he liked, now - he wouldn't budge unless he made a real, concerted effort to throw Chika off, first. Chika didn't think that was too likely.

The weight on Shito's hips actually helped him relax even further, since he recognized that it meant he didn't have to worry so much about not thrusting forward too hard. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Akatsuki right now or cause him to choke, but as the weight settled and pinned him down, he began to rock and writhe with even more abandon.

It didn't take long under those circumstances before he lost control completely and cried out as fluid rushed into Akatsuki's mouth. Shito groaned and collapsed to the bed, gasping for breath and only now starting to realize just how much he had surrendered control to the other boy this time.

It both frightened and drew him. And he opened his eyes, a bit nervously, hoping that he hadn't gone too far.

Far from it. Despite the deep, insistent ache in his own cock, Chika was grinning up at the other boy, wiping his mouth to catch the last traces of semen. There had been something oddly different about Shito's expression when he came this time - less tension, more pleasure, not as much calculation, something like that. Whatever it was, Chika thought very privately that it was about the hottest thing he'd ever seen. He hoped they wouldn't have to abandon the rougher play entirely - he liked that, and he was pretty sure Shito did, too. But he didn't mind doing it a little more gently sometimes, if it would put that look on Shito's face.

"So?" he purred, crawling back up to hover over Shito, leaning down until their faces were a bare inch apart and he was whispering the words practically against Shito's mouth. "That enough not thinking for you?"

Shito glanced up at him, quickly recovering his poise. His voice was only a little breathless as he responded. "Unlike you, I always think, Aka--," he said archly, sliding his hand between them and taking hold of the other boy's cock. Akatsuki punched his shoulder, cutting him off, and his cheeks flamed. He was bound and determined not to start calling the other boy 'Chika', though.

"But...but it was...very good," he added, a little bit hesitantly, then leaned up to kiss him, tasting his own fluids on Akatsuki's tongue.

He was loath to admit it, because it made him feel self-conscious in a way he wouldn't have expected. On the other hand, it had occurred to him that if Akatsuki actually wanted to know if it were good or not, he wouldn't know unless Shito actually had the balls to tell him.

Chika growled softly over the 'Akatsuki', but purred with pleasure into Shito's mouth when informed that it had been good. "Good," he said, his voice gone husky with need and a little breathless because of the way Shito's hand was moving over him. "That was the idea. Shito, I swear to the gods. Either call me Chika or find something else, or don't call me anything at all. But stop fucking calling me Akatsuki in bed, damn it!" Chika had pretty much given up on making Shito call him by given name, but that didn't mean he'd given up on not being called by his family name. It was so awkwardly formal, and the insistence on it always made him feel like Shito was keeping a deliberate distance between them.

Yeah, okay, they weren't friends. And yeah, okay, in their regular life he didn't care nearly as much, though it still irritated him. But in bed, in such an intimate situation - they weren't lovers or anything unbearably sappy like that, but Chika still thought a little recognition of their closeness was warranted.

Shito thought that Akatsuki was being incredibly silly, and said so. "What difference does it make?" he growled. "But fine, then I won't call you anything in bed, if you prefer. I don't see what the big deal is."

He didn't know why he was being so stubborn about it, except that he still wasn't comfortable with the idea that them having sex in some way brought them closer. He was highly allergic to the idea, in fact, and didn't want Akatsuki to start getting sentimental. That would only cause problems, since Shito was determined that they were. Not. Friends.

Akatsuki was young, and if Shito didn't keep his distance he probably would start getting sappy.

Despairing of ever understanding Shito, even the tiniest little bit, Chika sighed. "It matters to me, all right? Whatever."

He grabbed Shito's shoulders and rolled them over to reverse their positions, so that Chika was the one pinned beneath Shito. That let Chika arch up into the feel of Shito's fist on his cock, instead of trying to keep his balance and not collapse from sheer overload of pleasure. He gave Shito a somewhat breathless grin. "So? What are you waiting for? Have fun." It was carte blanche for Shito to do whatever the hell he wanted to Chika. Chika honestly wasn't sure the other boy would take him up on it, but he wanted the offer clearly made.

"Well...it matters to me, too," Shito said stubbornly, and that was the last he intended to say about that. If Akatsuki pretended to care what he wanted, he could honour this, too. Shito did everything else Akatsuki damn well wanted, after all.

As for this latest instruction, actually, this was something that Shito was able to do. He smiled faintly - the expression more of a smirk, actually - and lowered his head to suckle and nip at Akatsuki's throat. He traced patterns with his fingers, then followed them with his mouth, licking and sucking and even leaving a few marks on Akatsuki's pale skin.

His hand squeezed and rubbed and twisted over Akatsuki's cock, the pace reduced to a slow, teasing motion that he hoped would drive the other boy out of his mind.

It was working. Chika panted and writhed beneath him, the long slow climb to orgasm threatening to send him completely insane. "Sh-shit," he moaned, tossing his head back and trying to work his hips to get more friction. "Gods, you are such a fucking tease!"

Despite the accusing words, his tone made it perfectly clear that he didn't mind one little bit.

"Don't complain," Shito informed him, smirking evilly. "I might...stop."

And, greatly daring, he did so for just a moment or two.

The reaction was reward enough, though after a few seconds he started stroking Akatsuki's cock once again, faster then before, and then dropped his head down to swallow the boy's member before he could come.

Maybe this could be 'fun', after all.

Sadly, Chika knew he had only himself to blame for his current torment. He'd offered Shito free rein, and he couldn't complain when the other boy took it.

Of course, he didn't want to complain, he was enjoying the hell out of himself. But it wasn't easy to convince his hindbrain of that when he needed completion so damned bad and Shito was denying him.

Then the other boy leaned down and swallowed him whole, and Chika stopped thinking at all. He managed a whole three seconds, nearly four, before he exploded with a strangled shout and his fingers twisted in Shito's hair to hold him still.

Shito swallowed the fluid easily, riding out the jerks and thrusts of the orgasm as Akatsuki completely lost control and held his head in place. It wasn't easy, but he'd dealt with far worse, and he managed not to choke.

Finally Akatsuki released him and he lifted his head, looking up at the expression of bliss on the other boy's face and feeling a foreign sense of satisfaction. He had done that. He had, intentionally. No one had made him do it, and he'd done it with his own ideas.

This...wasn't so bad, after all.

He crawled up the bed and stretched out next to him, placing a hand on his chest and feeling the thrum of Akatsuki's heart.

Chika was still panting and dazed, and he didn't think he could summon the energy to really move just yet. But he turned his head and grinned cheekily at his partner. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" he said, his voice hoarse with the shouting he'd been doing. Good thing he and Shito were the only ones on this side of the building when Soutetsu was away. Chika wasn't quite sure what they were going to do when the third male in the dorm returned from wherever the hell he was now.

Invest in gags, maybe, though losing the ability to hear Shito make those amazing noises would be disappointing. Better than going without entirely, though.

"Not so bad," Shito said in a tone that implied that it wasn't so wonderful, either. He wasn't about to let Akatsuki get a swelled head.

He sort of liked the hoarseness of Akatsuki's voice, though. It made his own ego swell a bit.

He shifted off the bed and pulled his pants back up again. Since this had been his idea, it seemed logical that he shouldn't have to wait for Akatsuki's permission to leave, either. And for all that it was sometimes nice to sleep after sex, he preferred his own bed to squeezing in with Akatsuki.

"So...until next time, then," he said.

"Mmm. Not staying?" Chika was a little disappointed, but not enough that he was going to push the issue. Not after all the battles he'd already won tonight. He sat up and stretched, shrugging out of what was left of his clothes and reaching for a fresh pair of boxers to sleep in. "Well, you're welcome any time, Shito." He hoped at least that was clear, at this point.

"I prefer sleeping in my own bed," Shito said, shrugging faintly. And it wasn't like he had a very strong preference, but it was a preference nonetheless. He liked his privacy, after all, and even on the nights when Akatsuki had insisted he stay, he had managed to steal his way back to his own room before morning.

He glanced at Akatsuki, his expression inscrutable. "Well...good," he said. "And I don't have a problem if you don't wait for me, either."

Then he turned and left. This had been a breakthrough. He hadn't expected it to be nearly as much of one, and now he almost felt...happy.

So long as Akatsuki continued to think of him as a person, didn't realize how much of a monster he truly was, maybe this could work.

[Fic] Foresight Is 20/20 - D.Gray-man, Kanda/Lavi, 15/17+

2009-02-08T16:47:57Z

Finally! Sorry for taking so long, guys. 16 is written except I need to double-check a couple of things from canon - does anyone know which episode it is where the 3rd level attacks the ship?

It's coming to and end, and somewhat to my surprise, things are wrapping up fairly well despite the fact that they went off in directions I SO had not anticipated. It only took... 11 chapters longer to get to the smut than I had planned. *wry* But I'm glad I listened to the muses and did it their way. As usual, they were right.

Title: Foresight Is 20/20
Series: D.Gray-man
Pairing: Kanda/Lavi
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: violence, angst, yaoi, swearing, the usual
Chapter length: 4561
Total length: 59,474

Forewarned may be fore-armed, but sometimes knowing in advance isn't everything it's cracked up to be.

This chapter is not safe for work!

Vaguely Lavi was aware of Kanda's presence beside him, of the other man's worried voice and rough touch, but the reality of the present seemed distant and hard to reach. He'd been locked into a loop, forced to watch every possible outcome of the battle between Tyki and Allen, over and over again. The images were gruesome at best, and at worst... they made what Tyki had done to him look like foreplay. Lavi wanted to retch at the horrible images, but nothing he could do would break the loop.

He couldn't see Tyki's actions directly, but the vast majority of futures now showed Allen lying broken and dying on the ground, his Innocence shattered and his heart crushed. Sometimes Lenalee would find him, and go mad with grief herself. Sometimes he just lay there until the animals got at him. In every vision, his blank, glassy eyes stared straight at Lavi, as if accusing him. You could have stopped it, they seemed to say. You knew it was coming. You could have saved me!

And yet, and yet... when Kanda said something about going to save Allen, the visions impossibly became worse yet. Everything Noah had thrown at him in his delirium, and more... it all paraded before him, and he knew they couldn't save Allen if they hoped to save the world.

But how could he just turn away from a friend that way? Wouldn't that make him just as bad as the rest of the Noah? Foresight and everything Bookman had ever taught him said that leaving Allen to die was the necessary thing, even the right thing to do. But his newly-woken heart, still so fragile within him, screamed against the very idea. Lavi didn't know what to do, couldn't decide between one side of himself and the other, and it was tearing him apart.

Literally.

He could feel the rage of Noah surging up inside him. Feel anger and loathing of his fellow humans, of God, for putting him in this hellish position in the first place. No one should have to endure this. No one should have to be alone, trying to make a decision that would decide the fate of all humanity.

Lavi tried to fight it, tried to cling to the discipline and objectivity he'd learned as a Bookman, to convince himself that he was making the right choice. Unfortunately that proved to be a mistake, because the moment he cut himself off from the emotions clouding his judgement, he also cut himself off from the ties and bonds he'd surrounded himself with to help block Noah from his heart.

It was as if a switch had been flipped, and suddenly everything was clear again. Noah stopped screaming in his head, and the pain and agony of grief drained away and left him feeling as light as a feather. It was all so obvious, he couldn't believe he'd ever misunderstood. Noah hadn't been trying to take him over, Noah had been trying to help him, and growing angry with frustration at his continued denial. He was still right here, still himself - but better. Protected, sheltered, free from the suffering of the common human masses.

He looked up when Kanda pried his hands from his face, and nearly laughed. The Exorcist looked so worried, almost frightened, like he'd seen a ghost. And yet if he realized he was showing his concern so openly, he'd be disgusted and shut it away immediately, as if caring about one of his comrades made him weak.

Well, it did, because it opened him to pain. With Noah's help, he could take that pain away from Kanda, too, and give him the peace he deserved. Dark fire flared up from his soul, reaching hungrily for the Innocence he could sense through his physical connection to the Exorcist. He would take it away, and make sure Kanda never had to suffer again. For everything Kanda had meant to him, he owed the man that much.

Kanda, however, didn't appear to appreciate the sentiment. Searing pain etched its way along his throat as Mugen was laid against his skin, the warning clear despite the uncertainty and hesitation in Kanda's eyes. He pulled the dark fire back, clutching it close to him like a protective shield, and debated what to do next. Kanda could kill him too easily like this. He had to search the future, bide his time and wait until the perfect moment to strike. It all depended on what Kanda would do next...

He opened his mind to the immediate future, and was staggered by the vision he received. A moment later he had to deal with the reality as well, as Kanda leaned forward and kissed him fiercely. Eyes wide, he went rigid, not daring to move for fear of cutting his own throat on Mugen's sharp edge, torn between an instinct to flee and a desire to respond.

Desire won out in the end, and his eyes slid closed as he melted against Kanda. They kissed passionately, desperation underlying every moment of contact. Lavi forgot himself enough to reach up and clutch at Kanda's shoulders, trying to use the man as an anchor to hold himself in reality. The vision of Allen and all the pain that went with it was back, the shock of the kiss shaking him from Noah's hold - but to get rid of the pain again, he'd have to give up this, and Lavi didn't want that at all. No matter how much his Noah self might wish he did.

When they finally came up for air, Mugen still rested threateningly against Lavi's throat, but Kanda was clutching at him just as hard in return. "Well, that's... one way of fighting him off I hadn't tried," Lavi gasped, feeling dazed and disoriented by the sudden string of shocks and reversals. "Yuu, I..."

"Shut up," Kanda snarled, twisting the sword until the flat of the blade rested hard against Lavi's Adam's apple. He could apply more pressure that way without cutting Lavi, but the threat was no less immediate. "Didn't you promise me just days ago that you wouldn't give up so long as there was a shred of hope? You said there's a chance that Allen will survive, and be stronger for it. That sounds like hope to me. Does your word mean so little, or are you just that weak?"

"Oh, God, Allen," Lavi moaned, and the vision threatened to sweep him away again. He had to fight off the instinctive urge to distance himself, knowing it would only lead him right back to where he had been before Kanda had kissed him. He tugged Kanda towards him, lifting his face and begging shamelessly. "Please, Yuu, God. Help me. Make me stop seeing it, make it stop hurting, help me!"

And, a little to his surprise, Kanda did. The other man kissed him again, a forceful, almost violent embrace that might have been a little worrying except that Lavi knew it was fear that caused the fierceness, not rage. Fear for Allen, fear for him, fear for the whole damned world.

But Lavi wanted to forget about the fear and pain for a while, so he threw himself into the kiss despite the roughness. He pushed against Kanda, grateful they were both already stripped to their drawers, because the electric touch of flesh against flesh made it easier to distract himself. He did wince slightly when the motion caused Mugen to press harder against him, but he welcomed the touch of the Innocence as another anchor to the present.

Kanda must have felt the wince, however, because he made an irritated noise and started to withdraw his Innocence. Lavi wrapped his hand over Kanda's on the hilt and stopped him, breaking away from the kiss to look up into Kanda's eyes. "Don't," he pleaded. "Leave it. You won't cut me with the flat, and it helps."

"Doesn't it hurt you?" Kanda asked, frowning. Lavi nodded, careful not to cut himself in the process.

"Yeah. That's the point. It's happening to me, right now." Seeing that Kanda was prepared to object further, Lavi decided to pre-empt him with another kiss. He wanted to be distracted, not to get into a discussion of how his powers worked.

Tugging on Kanda's shoulders, Lavi urged him down until they were lying sprawled together on the bed, Kanda half-pinning him to the mattress. The other man's long hair was loose for once, sliding over both their bodies like a silky caress. Lavi shivered as it brushed over him, making a startled noise of pleasure in the back of his throat. He closed his eyes, giving himself up to sensation and not allowing himself to think about anything else.

Something about the situation tugged on Lavi's subconscious, insisting that it felt familiar, but he pushed that away as well. It was easy enough to lose himself in Kanda's embrace. The other Exorcist was far from being an expert kisser, but he kissed the same way he lived his life; intense, direct, and not letting anything distract him.

However, Kanda didn't seem inclined to go any further than just kissing, so Lavi took matters into his own hands. He trailed his fingers down over Kanda's bare torso, tracing over the lines of old scars and more recent wounds, pausing to tease anywhere that made Kanda moan or shudder. He hit the jackpot when he scraped his nails over one of Kanda's taut nipples. The other man gave a muffled cry and bit Lavi's lip in retaliation, the kiss growing fiercer still. The bizarre combination of pain/pleasure/pain made Lavi dizzy, and he revelled in it.

They broke apart for air again, gasping. Kanda ground his hips down against Lavi, and not even an innocent could have mistaken the meaning of the hard bulge straining the fabric of his drawers. Lavi was far from being an innocent. He made an eager noise and rocked his hips up in return, pushing his own hard cock up against Kanda's hip. He tilted his head back and Kanda took the hint, scraping his teeth against the sensitive skin of Lavi's throat, just above the burn of Mugen's blade.

"What do you want?" Kanda growled against his skin. "What do you need, Lavi?"

"You," Lavi replied instantly, not even thinking about what he was saying. "I need you. God, I've wanted this so bad since I first foresaw it... even before then, maybe." He reached up and twined his arms around Kanda's neck, tugging the other man down until Lavi could nuzzle into his throat, inhaling the clean scent of soap that lingered in Kanda's hair. "Fuck me, Yuu," he pleaded softly. "Make me feel human... make me feel."

Kanda grunted, and to Lavi's dismay he pulled back slightly and shook his head. "No. Shut up," he added when Lavi opened his mouth to protest. "You're still injured, and the last thing you need is to re-break your ribs and puncture a lung or something. I said, shut up."

Lavi huffed a soft laugh and gave up trying to argue. Perhaps as a reward, he felt Kanda reach down and undo the ties to his drawers. As long as the other man wasn't going to just stop, he didn't really care how far they actually got.

He lifted his hips to help Kanda get the last of his clothes off, moaning as the motion pressed him against Kanda's body and Mugen's blade. He could sense Noah raging in the back of his mind, but the presence of the Innocence was keeping him well at bay, much to Lavi's relief.

Kanda removed his own smallclothes as well, leaving them bare against each other for the first time. Lavi threw his head back and moaned as their cocks rubbed together, every other thought flying right out of his mind. In that moment there was nothing in his world except Kanda, exactly as he'd wanted.

They ground together again, and this time Kanda moaned too. It was intense, and part of Lavi thought maybe he should argue a little harder to get Kanda to fuck him. The majority of him was too busy enjoying what he was getting to worry about demanding more.

Kanda had raised himself up on his forearms, shifting so they were properly aligned. Lavi dared to reach between them with one hand, curling his fingers around both their cocks and giving them something better to push against. Kanda leaned down to nip and lick at Lavi's throat again, tongue tracing the faint cuts Mugen had made before he'd turned the blade.

"If you... ever again..." Kanda said between gritted teeth, his voice strained with grief as much as desire. "I swear I will kill you myself."

Lavi made a choked noise as memory hit him, and he laughed before he could stop himself. Kanda stopped moving above him, glaring down at him furiously. "What the hell is funny about this?" the other man snarled, as Lavi continued to snicker.

"I'm... sorry," Lavi gasped, aware that his laughter was verging on hysterical but unable to stop. "It's... this! My vision, the one about us that I kept having... this is it, right now. The sex, what you just said, even the sword at my throat... I always wondered about that."

Kanda's eyes narrowed, but Lavi thought he saw a brief glint of amusement in them as the other man snorted. "You didn't mention the part about the sword. You're twisted, you know that?"

He thrust again before Lavi could reply, and the only answer Lavi could make then was a long, drawn out moan.

Slick flesh slid together, sweat easing the friction. Lavi arched up into every thrust, his breath coming short as his body tensed, pleasure spiralling up out of his control. He didn't want to come, didn't want this to be over. He wished his powers would let him freeze this moment, and just live in it forever, sheltered and comforted by Kanda's arms, and forced to feel alive and human by the feel of Kanda's strong body against his.

He fought orgasm with everything he had, shaking so hard beneath Kanda that he cut himself again on Mugen's edge. Perversely, the sharp sting of the Innocence served as the last straw to push him over the edge, and he came screaming Kanda's name.

Kanda slowed his motions, rocking his hips against Lavi's instead of thrusting. He was still hard, and the look on his face was one of fierce concentration and control. "Yuu?" Lavi asked once he had a bit of his breath back, confused. "What are you... aren't you going to...?"

"I'm supposed to be distracting you, right?" Kanda growled. For once the edge in his voice wasn't due to anger or irritation. The low, husky snarl went straight to Lavi's groin, and he decided then and there that he wanted to hear that tone again as often as possible.

"Y-yeah, but..." Lavi broke off with a moan as Kanda rocked a little harder, rubbing against his still sensitive cock. Damned if he wasn't starting to get hard again. "That doesn't mean you can't..."

"Didn't I tell you to shut up, already?" Kanda said, and pulled out of Lavi's hold completely. Lavi cried out, reaching after him, but Kanda caught his wrist in a firm grip and refused to let go.

Releasing Mugen freed Kanda's other hand, and he caught Lavi's other wrist as well. The Innocence remained balanced against Lavi's throat, wedged against a pillow on one side to help keep it in place. Lavi found himself trapped, unable to fight the hold on his wrists without risking another cut to the throat, or worse.

"You spent months taunting and teasing me, driving me out of my mind," Kanda said, the growl deeper still. "Always two steps ahead of me, always in control, always making me dance to your tune. Maybe you did need to do it to keep your cover. I don't care. I've finally got you right where I wanted you all that time - helpless."

A tiny part of Lavi quailed in fear, gibbering that this was a trap and Kanda had just wanted to catch him off guard. Lavi firmly told that part of him to go to hell, where it could keep Noah company for all he cared. He trusted Kanda, maybe more than he'd ever trusted anyone before, even Bookman.

Besides, the look on the other man's face as he stretched up and pinned Lavi's wrists to the headboard was fucking hot.

"Leave them there," Kanda ordered, and released his hands. "Or else."

Lavi resisted the urge to check the future to see what the 'or else' might be. Just this once, he thought he'd rather find out what was coming the normal way. The present was holding far too much of his attention for him to care much about the future at the moment.

He arched up, startled, as Kanda trailed his mouth down over Lavi's chest. Kanda bit at Lavi's nipples, used his tongue to soothe the last of the deep bruises still marring Lavi's skin, and continued downward. It was all Lavi could do to keep his hands in place on the headboard when Kanda wrapped his lips around Lavi's cock; he wanted so badly to bury them in the other man's hair it hurt to stay still. He certainly didn't manage to keep himself quiet, moans and whimpers spilling from his throat without any consent from him.

He'd already been halfway hard again, but the warm, wet feel of Kanda's mouth had him completely at attention in moments. Lavi fought the instinct to thrust, not wanting to choke Kanda. "Yuu," he groaned, unable to keep quiet. "Oh fuck, God, Yuu..."

"You really can't keep your mouth shut for more than five minutes at a time, can you?" Kanda pulled back long enough to say, the momentary pause making Lavi cry out and buck his hips. That made Kanda look smug, and he smirked at Lavi before returning to what he'd been doing.

Once again pleasure built and built within Lavi, but thanks to his earlier orgasm it wasn't going to explode as quickly. That meant it just continued to coil tighter, pressure rising until Lavi seriously thought he might die of it. All thoughts of prolonging the encounter had fled from him shortly after Kanda had taken him into his mouth. Now all Lavi could think about was the need for release, or the pressure would surely break something inside him.

He didn't realize he'd moved his hands until he felt the silky strands of hair running through his fingers. Lavi shuddered as the motion of his hands through Kanda's hair made the strands slide and shift over the bare skin of his hips. He was unbearably sensitive after the first orgasm, and made more so by the build up to the second; the feathery touches threatened to drive him completely out of his mind.

Then Kanda wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and clamped down, hard, before lifting his head. Lavi cried out at the sudden loss of stimulation coupled with the pressure on his cock. "I told you not to move your hands, damn it," Kanda snapped, surging up over Lavi's body to kiss him ruthlessly. It was definitely more of a punishment than a pleasure, though Lavi still enjoyed it thoroughly. He made an eager noise and kissed back, hoping to make amends for unintentionally disobeying.

Kanda was stroking him now, swift, hard strokes that sent him racing towards the edge. Lavi shuddered and writhed, oversensitive but too desperate for the orgasm to beg Kanda to stop. Not that he really wanted the other man to stop, nor even to slow down, not when what he needed so badly was right... there...

Lavi had thought he'd screamed the first time. Now he knew that he'd only shouted; this time he screamed, the sound high and primal, tearing his throat raw. He was beyond caring, so caught up in the pleasure he literally couldn't think about anything else.

He lay there panting and trying to catch his breath afterwards for long moments, struggling to make his eyes focus or his body move. When he was finally able to see again, he found Kanda stretched out on the bed beside him, watching him steadily. It was obvious that Kanda hadn't taken his own pleasure, his body so tense that he was practically vibrating.

"Why..." Lavi's voice came out as an unintelligible croak, and he had to swallow a couple of times and try again. "Why didn't you come?"

It didn't make any sense. Kanda obviously wanted it, his body language telegraphed that as loudly as Lavi had been screaming a moment before. "I told you," Kanda said, the edge in his voice as sharp as Mugen's blade. "This is payback. You're the one who's going to do what I want, this time. And since I can't seem to get you to shut up any other way..."

Lavi saw where this was going, and objecting was the last thing on his mind. Suddenly there was nothing he wanted more than to know what the taste and feel of Kanda in his mouth would be like. He pushed Mugen away from him at last, sliding down on the bed until he was braced over Kanda's body, leaning with his arms on either side of Kanda's hips. Kanda made a startled noise, but Lavi just grinned before he lowered his head and ran his tongue along the rock-hard shaft.

His reward was a strangled moan and the way Kanda's hips jerked beneath him, as if the other man was fighting to stay still and failing. Fingers wound through his hair and tightened, strong hands holding him in place.

"You just have to stay one step ahead of me, don't you?" Kanda growled, but the breathy gasp he ended the sentence on ruined the intimidating effect he was going for.

Lavi chuckled, which made Kanda cry out and arch his back. He matched his pace to whatever made Kanda moan the loudest, wrapping his lips around the other man's cock and doing his best to swallow him whole. His still-healing ribs screamed a protest, but Lavi ignored them. After getting him off twice, Kanda had to be right on the edge. This wouldn't take long.

Sure enough, after just a few minutes he felt Kanda's cock twitch in his mouth, and the other man gave a strangled shout that might have been intended to be a warning. Hot, bitter fluid pulsed into Lavi's mouth, and he did his best to swallow all of it, licking and nibbling lightly at the skin of Kanda's cock to coax out every last drop.

Only when Kanda was shuddering beneath him and starting to soften did Lavi allow himself to come up for air. He crawled back up the bed and collapsed next to Kanda, burying his face in the other man's shoulder and willing himself not to think about anything but how good he felt at that moment.

Kanda seemed inclined to do the same, or at least to let Lavi be. He shifted enough to get comfortable, and pulled the sheet over both of them, giving tacit permission for Lavi to stay. That was good; Lavi had been half afraid that Kanda would pull away as soon as they were finished. He'd never pictured Kanda as the cuddling type - and he wasn't, exactly. He hadn't wrapped himself around Lavi or anything like that. He was just letting Lavi stay close, holding onto the moment of intimacy they'd created between them.

Finally, though, Kanda sighed and broke the spell. "Well?"

Without thinking, Lavi reached out with his powers to check the future. His brain caught up with his instincts a moment later, and he braced himself, expecting to get locked into another onslaught of disturbing images.

To his incredible relief, however, he didn't get any gruesome flashes of Allen dying in the forest. "It's over," he gasped, relaxing against Kanda's side. He hadn't realized just how tense he was until he did that, muscles in his back and shoulders unlocking painfully. "Allen survived. I think... yeah, the Asian branch of the Order picked him up."

"Then, we're going to win?" Kanda's voice held uncharacteristic hope. "Allen will do whatever it is he's going to do?"

It hurt Lavi to have to shatter that hope. "It's not certain. The majority of futures now show him living out what's left of the war as a civilian - I think Tyki got his Innocence." His brow furrowed. "Except there are still some futures where he's an Exorcist so... I don't know what the fuck."

Kanda shook his head. "It's out of our hands. And you?"

"I..." Lavi took stock of himself. Noah was grumbling in the back of his head, but no louder than usual. Without the soul-wrenching internal conflict caused by Allen's near-death, Noah once again had no hold over him. "I'm okay. For now," he added darkly. "Yuu..."

"It will happen again," Kanda said, and he didn't sound surprised. Lavi nodded miserably, unable to deny it. If Noah could take him over once, he could do it again. His mental stability rested on a fragile support made of the well-being of his friends, and as he'd just proven, any threat to that support could send him tumbling into the abyss. And next time, Kanda probably wouldn't be around to shock him out of it.

Unless... "Stay with me," Lavi whispered, curling tighter against Kanda's side. "Yuu, please. I need you. I think this was the only thing that could have saved me."

"Hmph." Kanda snorted. "If you think you're getting rid of me now, you'd better think again. I promised you and the Order that I would take care of it if you lost to Noah, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did," Lavi agreed, relieved beyond words. Another thought occurred to him, and he frowned. "Uh... Yuu? I, uh..." Damn it, how the hell could he ask this? "Did you... want to do this?"

"What, do you think I nobly sacrificed myself to your needs?" Kanda asked, scathing.

Despite himself, Lavi chuckled. "Well, when you put it that way."

"I... won't say I never thought about this," Kanda said, not meeting his eyes. He sounded angry, but it wasn't hard for Lavi to realize it was a cover for embarrassment. "Even when I hated you most for betraying me, I couldn't forget that fucking vision of yours."

"Me, neither," Lavi admitted, turning his head so he could inhale the clean scent of Kanda's hair. "I guess it came true, after all.

He didn't mention that he'd never had any vision of them together other than that one. He prayed it was because he'd just become fixated on that moment, or because this time was the most important. He could have checked the future, to see if there were any new visions of the two of them, but he refused to let himself even peek. If he'd only seen it happening this once because it would never happen again... that was one thing Lavi definitely didn't want to know about ahead of time.

[Fic] That's Enough For Me - Junjou Romantica, Hiroki + Akihiko, Akihiko + Takahiro

2009-01-26T03:02:08Z

Chapter 15 of Foresight is with my beta, who is unfortunately rather swamped at the moment with school stuff. So have some random young!fic for Junjou Romantica instead. If you haven't seen this series, go download it. Now. Right now. No, really, drop what you're doing and go find it this instant. It's worth it. *glees*

Title: That's Enough For Me
Series: Junjou Romantica
Pairing: Hiroki+Akihiko, Akihiko+Takahiro
Rating: R
Warnings: angst, boy-love, swearing
Length: 6,999 words

Having Akihiko as a best friend had always been enough for Hiroki to be happy. Unfortunately, growing up means things never stay the same.

This story is not safe for work. It's not extremely graphic, but you wouldn't want your boss to catch you reading it.

So far, high school was a total blast. Hiroki could hardly believe how awesome it was. What a difference from junior high! The classes were interesting, the teachers were intelligent, and best of all, there were plenty of classmates who hadn't been with him all the way from first grade. Instead of being 'that weird rich kid', he finally had a chance to really show what he was worth.

And it was paying off, too. The girls all giggled and blushed when he walked by, whispering to each other and sighing over him. Every guy in the class wanted to be his friend, jostling each other to try to get close to him. But Hiroki was playing it cool, keeping his distance, letting them come to him instead of the other way around.

Besides, Akihiko was way cooler than any of these losers. Hiroki was happy to bask in the general attention, but it was Akihiko's smile that really made his heart go...

"Kamijou-kun!"

Something slammed into the desk beside his head, and that combined with his name being shouted startled Hiroki badly. He sat bolt upright, already stammering out an apology, struggling to figure out where he was and what the hell was going on. He'd just been about to go eat lunch with Akihiko on the roof, hadn't he? Why was the teacher yelling at him?

Wait, was he in class? Why had his head been down on the desk?

Snickering and giggling from all around him clued him in, and the glare the literature teacher was directing at him sealed it. Like a dork, he'd fallen asleep in the middle of class. Hiroki felt his face burning, and ducked his head so his hair would hide his eyes. Way to start his first day of classes in high school.

"If you'd care to join us, Kamijou-kun," the teacher said sarcastically. "Perhaps you could share with the rest of us your opinion on why the author chose to use the metaphor of the cherry blossoms, and what his deeper meaning was?"

The teacher intended to humiliate him by making him admit that he didn't know what metaphor they were talking about, Hiroki knew. The sad thing was, he didn't even need to glance at the page. Sighing, he started reeling off the various theories literature scholars had put forth on that particular metaphor.

So far, high school was a total bust. Hiroki had been so sure that a high school lit teacher would have to be the kind of kindred spirit he'd been searching for; someone else who could understand his love of the classics and the meaning behind them. He'd expected a challenge, interesting debates, and the thrill of learning something new.

Instead the teacher had a monotone that could put anyone to sleep, and Hiroki already had the entire semester's reading list memorized. He wouldn't have to crack a book all term... and that wasn't what he was after.

Worse, he'd just made an idiot of himself, and he knew from experience that he hadn't won any points by actually knowing the answer. Now the teacher thought he was a smart-ass, and the rest of the students thought he was a brainer and a show-off.

And worst of all, Akihiko wasn't even in his class! It was the first time they'd been separated since the other boy had moved here from England. If Akihiko had been sitting next to him, they could have passed notes or at least traded eye-rolls over the teacher's stupidity. Akihiko might not be as much of a literature fanatic as Hiroki, but as an aspiring author he could appreciate the value of the subject. As it was, Hiroki was forced to endure the torture of boredom in solitude.

Finally the bell rang to end the class, and Hiroki hastily gathered up his books. It was lunch time, and at least one part of his stupid dream was true - he was supposed to meet Akihiko on the roof for lunch. He couldn't wait to tell his best friend all about the disappointment of the literature class, and they could bitch together about the idiocy of the other students. Well, Hiroki could bitch and Akihiko would listen. That was just the way it was.

He hurried up the stairs, the exertion making his heart pound a little faster, and he was a bit breathless when he hit the door at the top. He spotted Akihiko right away, his gaze drawn to his friend like a magnet, and he headed in that direction.

"Hey, Akihiko! Can you believe this place?" he complained as he walked. "I mean, seriously. I thought we were finally gonna... huh?"

He stopped short when he spotted a smaller boy sitting on the other side of his best friend. The stranger was dark-haired and wore glasses, and he had an open, friendly smile. He looked up at Hiroki in surprise, and Hiroki frowned. "Who the hell is this?" he demanded of Akihiko.

"Hiroki," Akihiko greeted him, turning to smile at him. No... he'd already been smiling, Hiroki realized, stunned. Smiling at this stranger, this... this interloper. Akihiko never smiled when anyone but Hiroki was around to see him. Not this smile, his real smile.

"Takahiro, this is my best friend Hiroki, that I was telling you about," Akihiko continued, oblivious to Hiroki's dumbfounded shock. "Hiroki, this is Takahashi Takahiro, one of my new classmates."

"Ah, so this is Kamijou-kun!" Takahashi laughed, and beamed up at him. "I know it's only been one morning, but Usagi has already talked about you so much I feel like I should know you. It's nice to meet you."

"Usagi?" Hiroki repeated stupidly, instead of replying with the polite phrases he should have used. He didn't want to be polite. Who the hell did this guy think he was, just barging in on his and Akihiko's private lunch, and calling Akihiko by stupid cute little nicknames? Seriously, did the guy look like a rabbit?

To his further shock, Akihiko actually chuckled. "He misheard me when I introduced myself," Akihiko said. "Now it seems to have stuck."

"B-but..." Hiroki stammered. But it was a stupid name. Why wasn't Akihiko objecting? Why wasn't he giving his expressionless, polite face, the one that he always wore around everyone but Hiroki? Why was this stranger here, intruding on their time together, sitting next to Akihiko like he belonged there?

"Why are you just standing there?" Akihiko asked. "Come sit down with us. Your mom gave me peaches this morning."

"They're delicious," Takahashi added, smiling wider at him. "But I'm confused. Why did she give them to Usagi, instead of you, Kamijou-kun?"

That was it; that was absolutely the last straw. "Because she's got a fucking crush on him," Hiroki snarled. "I don't know! Ask him." He glared at Akihiko. "I'm going to eat with some of the guys from my class," he lied. "I just came to see if you wanted to join us, but you're obviously busy. See you."

"Hiroki!" Akihiko sounded startled, and a little dismayed. That made Hiroki feel better as he turned and stormed back down the stairs, not giving Akihiko a chance to say anything else.

What the fuck! It had always been the two of them, just the two of them, since the day they'd first met. Two misfits, back-to-back against the world. He was the only one who got to see the real Akihiko. He was the only one Akihiko came to when he was upset. He was the only one who got to read Akihiko's writing.

He was the only one Akihiko ever smiled at like that, damn it!

Hiroki slammed through the doors into the library, ignoring the shocked giggles and dirty looks he got for making a scene as he threw himself at the nearest shelf of Japanese literature. He'd show Akihiko. That asshole wasn't the only one who could find something better to do with his time. All he needed was a wall full of books, and Hiroki could lose himself for hours.

Eventually Akihiko would get bored with whatever it was that interested him in Takahashi, and he would come back to Hiroki just like he always did.

Surely.

High school sucked. There was no two ways about it.

More than anything else in the world, Hiroki longed to go back to the days of junior high. Back to the time when everything had been normal, and his world had pretty much consisted of him and Akihiko, and everyone else could go to hell.

Especially certain irritating schoolmates with stupid names, who thankfully hadn't been schoolmates back in junior high.

That particular person could still go to hell, as far as Hiroki was concerned. And at the moment, Hiroki was perfectly willing to pitch Akihiko in after him.

Nothing was going the way it was supposed to. His classes sucked, his teachers sucked even more, his classmates sucked hardcore, and Takahashi Takahiro sucked so much that it was a wonder he didn't implode.

Hiroki sat alone in one corner of the roof with his lunch, nose buried firmly in his book and paying absolutely no attention to anyone around him. Really. Certainly not to Akihiko and Takahashi, over on the other side.

They were laughing and talking; rather, Takahashi was laughing, and Akihiko was smiling at him in a particular way that Hiroki had never seen before.

Not that he cared. It was totally irrelevant to him. It did not matter to him one bit that Akihiko was over there cozying up to Takahashi, instead of over here hanging out with Hiroki. It mattered so little that Hiroki hadn't even noticed that Akihiko and Takahashi were up here for, oh, a good half a second after he'd come out onto the roof. Maybe even a whole second.

Realizing he was glaring over the top of his book, Hiroki quickly wrenched his gaze back down to the page. It was the same page he'd been on when he'd started eating lunch, almost half an hour ago. He'd like to claim it was that absorbing a book, but it was just his stupid math textbook. The school library also sucked in comparison to his collection at home, it turned out.

It was hardly the first time he and Akihiko had had a spat. Hiroki's temper virtually guaranteed that he would blow up at just about anyone eventually; the wonder had always been that Akihiko never blew up at him in return. The other boy always left Hiroki alone for a day or two, letting him cool down. Then Akihiko would approach him and just pick up where they'd left off as if there had never been a problem, and Hiroki would happily go along with it. He never stayed mad for long, but he hated to apologize. Akihiko knew that, and so it had always worked out.

Before. Before Takahashi. It hadn't been one or two days. It had been two weeks, and Akihiko was still showing no signs of coming to make up to Hiroki.

Seething, Hiroki stabbed at his sushi with his chopsticks. The whole thing just... sucked.

By the time the first bell rang, Hiroki was so angry he'd given himself a headache from glaring too much. He was also completely miserable, and finally ready to admit it. So, for the first time since their friendship had begun, he finally broke down and was the one to do the making-up.

"Akihiko!" he called as his friend and the interloper packed up their lunches to return to their classroom. Akihiko looked up, one eyebrow raised at him, his impassive expression firmly in place.

That stung, and Hiroki tried not to show it. Akihiko hadn't looked at him like that in years. Swallowing his pride, Hiroki forced himself to continue. "Can I talk to you for a sec? Alone?" he added, flicking a glance at Takahashi.

To his further irritation, the asshole just smiled at him. "Of course, Kamijou-kun," Takahashi said happily. "I'll see you in class, Usagi. Don't be late!"

"Ah," Akihiko nodded, and Takahashi had the nerve to wave at Hiroki as he left.

Once they were alone on the roof, Akihiko folded his arms and leaned against the wall. "Well?" he asked. "Are you going to speak to me again? I was starting to think you were actually planning to hold a grudge this time."

"What the fuck, Akihiko!" Hiroki burst out, unable to contain himself. He'd intended to apologize, really he had. For what, he wasn't quite sure, since this whole stupid mess was Akihiko's fault to start with. But he'd been willing to apologize if it would get him Akihiko's attention back.

But this was just too much. Akihiko talked like... like Hiroki was some kind of spoiled brat who'd been having a sulking fit, or something! "Why are you spending all your time with that guy?" Hiroki demanded. "What happened to us? Why is he suddenly in the picture? He's not like us. He's not into literature, or writing. He's got decent grades, but he's no kind of genius or anything. From everything I've heard about him, he's just... just..."

"Normal," Akihiko said softly, and Hiroki nodded emphatically.

"Exactly!" he exclaimed, then belatedly realized that Akihiko hadn't meant the word as an insult the way Hiroki had. "Wait, what? Why is that a good thing?"

"We're not normal, you and I," Akihiko said, his voice matter of fact. "I've always wanted to know what it was like to have a 'normal' life. Takahiro doesn't care about my family, or my money, or any of the rest of it. He just honestly wants to be friends."

"Wha..." Hiroki gaped at him, at a total loss. "I don't care about any of those things," he pointed out, incensed. "Why isn't that good enough for you all of a sudden?"

"Hiroki..." Akihiko suddenly looked... tired. Weary, and a little sad. "Stupid. You're the one who's been avoiding me, not the other way around. Takahiro wants to be your friend, too."

"Yeah, well, what if I don't want to be his?" Hiroki snapped. "I'm your friend, that's enough for me. Damn it," he swore as the second bell rang, and he realized they were both going to be late. "At least say you'll come over to my place after school!" he added, hastily gathering up his things.

"I will," Akihiko promised, and that made Hiroki feel about a million times better. They could sort this all out later, alone.

Akihiko paused in the doorway, looking back at him, still with that odd, sadly tired expression. "But maybe it's not enough for me," Hiroki thought he heard the other boy murmur. When Hiroki looked up at him, though, Akihiko just shook his head and headed down the stairs without waiting for him.

More disturbed by the whole thing than he wanted to admit, Hiroki gnawed at his lower lip as he hurried after his friend. They'd hash it out tonight, and things could go back to normal. He wouldn't allow anything else.

Ordinarily Akihiko wrote quickly but neatly, his precise handwriting covering the page with kana and kanji that were easily readable by anybody. Hiroki was always grateful for that when he read his friend's stories; if it had been the other way around, Akihiko would have gone blind from trying to puzzle out Hiroki's chicken scratch.

Tonight, though, Akihiko was definitely scribbling in the journal he'd brought with him. His hand flew over the page, filling in the words so quickly Hiroki was startled his hand didn't cramp. He was totally absorbed in his work, too, oblivious to the snacks and drinks Hiroki's mother had brought for them to share.

Realizing he was staring at Akihiko again, Hiroki scowled and wrenched his attention back to his book. Akihiko had arrived on his doorstep, talked politely with his family over dinner, and then settled in with his journal on the futon Hiroki kept for him. Hiroki was in the other futon with his book, of course. The scene was just so normal for the two of them that it made Hiroki feel a little better, even though nothing had really been settled between them. Maybe this was just Akihiko's way of indicating that all was forgiven and forgotten.

Or maybe he was just that absorbed in the story he was working on. Either was possible.

Hiroki blinked and discovered that his gaze had wandered over to Akihiko once more. Sighing, he gave up on his book entirely, setting it down and curling up on his side to watch his friend write. How many hours had he spent doing exactly this? He loved to watch Akihiko write, especially when they were in private. In public, Akihiko always kept his expression bland, but when it was just the two of them he let whatever emotion he was pouring into the story flit through his eyes. Even so, only someone who knew him as well as Hiroki did would be able to see them.

Tonight, Akihiko's eyes showed something Hiroki couldn't quite identify. It was a sort of anticipatory shine, accompanied by a light flush that spread over Akihiko's cheeks and gave colour to his normally pale face. In fact...

"Oi," Hiroki finally spoke up, a little concerned. "You feverish or something?"

Akihiko actually jumped, his pen jerking on the page as he looked up, startled. "What? No. Why?"

"You're flushed, and your eyes are glazed," Hiroki told him. He raised an eyebrow when that made Akihiko flush more. On anyone else he'd have called it a blush, in fact. But Akihiko never blushed.

"Mm. I'm just excited about this story, I guess," Akihiko said. Contrary to his words, however, he flipped the notebook closed and set it aside. "We should get some sleep, I suppose. We have school tomorrow. Do you need to use the bathroom?"

"Nah, I went earlier," Hiroki shook his head.

"Okay, I'll just be a minute, then." Akihiko slipped out from under his covers on the side away from Hiroki and headed for the door.

The moment he was out of the room, Hiroki reached for the notebook. The last one Akihiko had given him to read had ended on a terrible cliffhanger, and he'd been dying to know what happened next ever since. Understandably Akihiko never let the books out of his possession until he'd filled them, but surely he wouldn't mind Hiroki getting a head start on reading this one.

To his disappointment, however, the notebook wasn't numbered '36', but was instead titled with the English letter 'A'. Hiroki was a little confused by that; in all the time he'd been reading Akihiko's stories, the notebooks had always been identified simply by number. Why change now? Had he started a second story, and didn't want to get them mixed up?

Flipping open the book, Hiroki eagerly scanned the first page. Even if it was a different story, Akihiko's writing was always good. It sure as hell beat the boring crap he'd been assigned in his lit class.

He got through two paragraphs before he realized that it wasn't another novel - or at least, not one like anything Akihiko had written before. It took another full paragraph before his brain accepted what his eyes were telling it, however. Hiroki made a choked noise and dropped the book like it had scorched him, eyes wide as he stared at it.

...whispered in his ear... tasted the lingering flavour of green tea on the other boy's lips... knew it was forbidden, but he wanted it so bad...

Slowly, half convinced that he must be mistaken, Hiroki picked up the notebook again and opened it to a random page. If anything, that one was worse.

...fingers teased over the newly bared skin... so hard he ached with it... "Oh gods, Takahiro!"...

What was the expression? 'Like watching a train wreck'? That was exactly how Hiroki felt, unable to tear his eyes away from the increasingly steamy words on the page. It was horrifying. And yet, unlike the proverbial train wreck, it was also disturbingly hot.

Hiroki shifted uncomfortably, belatedly aware that his body was reacting, but unable to help himself. This was wrong, he knew he shouldn't be reading this. Bad enough that it was gay porn. Worse that Akihiko hadn't even made an attempt to pretend the 'characters' weren't him and Takahashi. The whole thing made a nasty little lump settle in Hiroki's stomach, sour and squirming. Yet the words sucked him in and drew him along, and he didn't think he could stop reading if his life depended on it.

He was 'rescued' when the book was literally snatched out of his hands, but it was very definitely a case of frying pan to fire. Startled, Hiroki looked up to find a white-faced Akihiko glaring at him, clutching the notebook to his chest like a precious treasure. "Hiroki!" Akihiko snapped. "What the hell are you doing?"

Arousal and confusion had thoroughly fogged Hiroki's brain, and he found his mouth running without permission from his mind. "I thought it was the next part of the story, and that cliffhanger was really evil, Akihiko, so I figured I'd at least find out what happened, only it wasn't the story, and then... I..." Realizing he was about to admit that it had turned him on so much he couldn't stop reading it, Hiroki clamped his mouth shut and blushed so hard he was sure his ears had turned red.

In fact, he still couldn't get the damned thing out of his mind. Akihiko was standing there in his pyjamas, something Hiroki had seen a million times. But suddenly tonight he was aware of the way the thin cotton clung to every line of Akihiko's body, and of the way said body had apparently filled out quite a bit when Hiroki hadn't been paying attention. Helplessly Hiroki's eyes travelled down from the broad shoulders to the taut abdomen to the...

He wrenched his eyes back up, and was dismayed to find Akihiko giving him the same passive, emotionless look that he wore most of the time in public. "Wha... why are you looking at me like that?" he blurted out. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He'd been way too blatant in checking out his best friend just now, and Akihiko was mad at him. Hiroki didn't quite dare to drop his eyes and check his lap, but he could only hope that the thin blanket still half covering him was enough to hide his aroused state, or Akihiko would probably be even more upset. How weird was it for your best friend to read pornographic fantasies you'd written, and be turned on by them?

But if there was one thing Hiroki definitely didn't want, it was to drive Akihiko away. The other boy hadn't given him that closed look since they'd first become friends, and the sight of it now nearly tore Hiroki's heart to pieces. "Stop it," he demanded, his voice both high with fear and husky with arousal. "Don't look at me like that, damn it."

Akihiko's mouth tightened. "Why did you keep reading it?" he demanded, and Hiroki flinched. Why did he have to ask that of all questions?

"I... uh..." Hiroki stared up into Akihiko's blank eyes, and wondered if he could get away with a lie. Not that he could think of one, and anyway Akihiko had always been able to see right through him. Flushing harder yet, he lowered his eyes and mumbled his answer. "Fuck it, Akihiko, I always read everything of yours. You know that." He fought with himself for a moment, then finally admitted what he figured had to be obvious. "It was hot."

"It... was?" To his surprise, when Akihiko finally dropped the emotionless mask, he revealed shock and vulnerability beneath it. "You're not... disgusted?"

Suddenly another reason why Akihiko might be closing himself off occurred to Hiroki, and the events of the night -hell, of the whole last few weeks - rearranged themselves abruptly in his mind. He jerked his head up and stared at his best friend, and sure enough, Akihiko actually looked... scared.

"Idiot," Hiroki said. "What, did you think I would care?" He snorted. "Did you think I didn't know? You were my first kiss, thank you very much. I kinda suspected."

Surprise, then overwhelming relief flooded Akihiko's eyes. The other boy slowly sank down on his futon, still hugging the notebook to him, but now Hiroki realized the gesture was more like clutching a shield than holding a treasure. "You knew already? And it doesn't bother you?" Akihiko let out a long breath, his head hanging. "I thought you'd realized that day on the roof, and that was why you left."

"Is that why you never came to talk to me?" Hiroki could laugh, now, at his own paranoid fears.

Akihiko shrugged. "Well, that, and you never really seemed to cool off. I always come talk to you once you've calmed down." He hesitated, uncharacteristically shy. "It really doesn't bother you?"

"I kept reading the fucking book, didn't I?" Hiroki muttered, as close as he could bring himself to an admission that he might, maybe, just a little bit, be that way himself.

He looked at the delicate blush spread over Akihiko's cheeks, and suddenly his heart was pounding too fast. Okay, maybe more than just a little bit. And he still had a problem; there was no way in hell he was going to get to sleep in this state. The discussion had cooled him off a little, but every time he looked at his friend it got worse again.

Hiroki waited until he was sure Akihiko wasn't looking right at him, then threw the covers aside and all but lunged past his friend for the door. Thankfully Akihiko didn't look up until Hiroki was past him, so his friend wouldn't be able to see the sorry state of Hiroki's body.

"Where are you going?" Akihiko asked.

"Bathroom," Hiroki ground out, hoping like hell Akihiko wouldn't call him on it.

No such luck. "I thought you said you went already?"

Hiroki paused in the doorway and glared back over his shoulder. "Shut it. I can go again if I want."

To his dismay, the look in Akihiko's eyes went from startled to knowing and a little smug. Snarling, Hiroki shut the screen door harder than was necessary, wishing for once that he lived in a Western-style house like Akihiko. It was so much more satisfying to slam their doors.

The moment he was safely inside the bathroom, Hiroki dropped to his knees and had his hand inside his pants. Breathing hard, he curled his fingers around his aching cock and stroked hard and fast. In his mind's eye he kept replaying the scenes he'd been reading in the book - except it was him in the other role, not Takahashi.

It was him that Akihiko cornered and pressed up against a wall at school. Him that his friend kissed, tongues sliding together and bodies pressed tight. Him that Akihiko teased and tormented, sliding his hands under Hiroki's uniform and gliding his fingers over the bare skin. Him that tried desperately to muffle his moans as Akihiko dropped to his knees and took Hiroki in his mouth...

Only the fist he'd stuffed in his mouth kept Hiroki's shout from drawing the attention of the whole house. He came hard, shaking with the force of the orgasm. He'd fooled around a bit and experimented, but this was like nothing he'd experienced before. Thinking of Akihiko touching him made the whole thing ten times more intense.

Panting, Hiroki slumped against the sink, feeling feverish and a little sick. There was no doubt about it, not after that little foray into fantasyland.

When the fuck had he fallen in love with his best friend?

And what the fuck was he going to do about it?

The tapping of keys on his laptop wasn't terribly effective at blocking out the soft murmurs coming from the other side of the table, but Hiroki had gotten very good at focusing on what he was doing and not paying attention to anything else. It was a skill he'd been forced to develop, since Akihiko seemed to take every opportunity to drape himself all over Takahashi, and the only time Hiroki really saw Akihiko any more was in Takahashi's company.

Takahashi, incredibly, seemed to remain innocently unaware of Akihiko's attraction to him, laughing and acting like Akihiko was just teasing him. This despite the fact that if any teacher had caught them at it, Akihiko's 'teasing' could have gotten them both expelled. Hell, they might even have expelled Hiroki just for being there. Oh, it wasn't even as bad as what Hiroki had seen some couples get up to in the secluded corners of the school, but the fact that they were both boys was what would get the teachers up in arms.

Still, if Hiroki hadn't seen it for himself - and oh, how he wished he hadn't - he'd never have believed Takahashi could honestly not clue in. Despite himself Hiroki glanced across the table, and got an eyeful of Akihiko draped over Takahashi's shoulder, practically nuzzling his neck as he leaned over the other boy to point at something in the book they were studying from. Takahashi just laughed and wriggled like it tickled, not reacting in the least to what Hiroki seemed to be blatantly sexual overtones.

"Usagi! Stop, before one of the librarians comes by," Takahashi scolded Akihiko. "Honestly. You don't tease Kamijou-kun nearly this much. Why do you pick on me?"

"Because Hiroki doesn't squirm nearly as much as you do, Takahiro," Akihiko replied blandly. "He just glares and punches me. It wouldn't be nearly as amusing to tease him like this."

Hiroki ducked his head to hide his sudden flush at the mental image of Akihiko cuddling up to him like that. If only! Gods, he wouldn't brush Akihiko off like some kind of amusing irritation. He would be more than happy to respond in kind, and maybe take things a little further. Akihiko had to be getting frustrated by Takahashi's lack of response. Hiroki would love to help him let off some of that steam...

Wrenching his mind off that track, Hiroki refocused on the screen and swore as he saw that the last several words he'd typed were, in fact, complete gibberish. He erased them and started again, hoping his blush wasn't as obvious as it felt like it was.

"Well, I'm afraid that's all the amusement you're going to get for today, because I have to go pick up my little brother from school," Takahashi said, closing his textbook. "Mom and dad are both going to be out late tonight, and Misaki hates to be alone. Good luck with that essay, Kamijou-kun! Don't let Usagi distract you too much."

Hiroki forced himself to look up, and was rather proud that he managed to maintain a composed expression. "If I let him bother me, I'd never get anything done," he said, rolling his eyes. Takahashi laughed, and waved on his way out.

To Hiroki's disgust, Akihiko stared after the idiot long after he was out of sight, mooning like... like a lovesick schoolgirl. As much as it distressed Hiroki to see Akihiko pining over someone else, he hated knowing that his friend was hurting for any reason.

"You should just say something," he blurted out, scowling at his computer screen as if it had deeply offended him. "He's too damned dense to figure it out on his own, despite the bomb-sized hints you keep dropping on him."

"He's not dense, he's just innocent," Akihiko protested mildly, propping his chin in his hand and still staring after Takahashi. "I can't say anything. It would make him uncomfortable. I don't mind, as long as I can be near him."

"Oh, bullshit!" Hiroki said, slamming the laptop closed and glaring at Akihiko instead. "What the hell kind of attitude is that? You'll never get anything you want if you come at life with that attitude, Akihiko."

"Not life, just Takahiro," Akihiko corrected him. "I don't want to cause trouble for him. And I don't want to risk losing his friendship."

"Coward," Hiroki accused him. A moment later his conscience twinged him. Who the hell was he to be sneering at Akihiko for being too scared to confess? Not like he'd said anything to Akihiko. He was no better, dragging around after Akihiko like a whipped puppy hoping for scraps of affection. In fact, he might even be worse, since he was willingly torturing himself by hanging around with Akihiko and Takahashi together.

I don't mind, as long as I can be near him. No, he definitely had no room to throw stones at his friend.

"I still don't get what you see in him, anyway," he muttered as he started packing up his bag.

"Well, of course you don't, you're not interested in him that way," Akihiko said.

"No, I'm not, because he's a twit, Akihiko," Hiroki said. "There're plenty of hotter guys in the school, and lots of smarter, funnier, more interesting ones. Probably even some that are gay, and would happily return the interest." Like me. "Why him?"

"Because," Akihiko said firmly, shaking his head. "Just because. I can't explain it any better than that, Hiroki."

"Yeah, well..." Hiroki trailed off, and shrugged. What the hell could he say to that? "It just sucks, watching you drag around pining away over him, and him too oblivious to even notice. I... I want you to be happy. Stupid," he added, just in case Akihiko thought he was getting mushy or something.

For a brief moment, Akihiko's eyes softened and he looked touched. Then he grinned. "Why, Hiroki, I didn't know you cared so much," Akihiko teased him. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous."

"J-jealous?" Hiroki sputtered, feeling all the blood drain from his face. Oh, gods, was he really being that obvious? Fuck, now what the hell was he supposed to do? "What the hell would I have to be jealous about?"

"If you keep trying to convince me not to be interested in him, I'll have to assume you want him for yourself," Akihiko said.

Hiroki nearly wilted with relief that Akihiko had completely misread him. "Idiot! As if I'd even want him," he snapped. "You're welcome to him - if you ever get the guts to do something about him."

Akihiko shook his head. "It's enough," he insisted. "This is enough for me."

Yeah, Hiroki thought miserably, following his friend out of the library. But what if it's not enough for me?

"Can you believe it? I mean, seriously, has the guy even read the fucking book?" Hiroki ranted, gesturing wildly with the hand not occupied by his bag. "How the fuck could he give me a B-? I know more about the literature of that period than he does!" He fumed kicking at a rock on the sidewalk. It spun into a nearby brick wall with a satisfying 'crack', but did little to relieve his irritation.

"Perhaps he's jealous," Akihiko remarked, shrugging. "Not all teachers took the job because they want to help kids learn things. Some do it for the power trip."

"Yeah, well, if I was a teacher I'd fucking well be honest enough to admit it if a student knew more than I did," Hiroki said. "And then I'd make sure I learned more than he knew! I don't think this guy is even interested in literature, Akihiko."

"Perhaps he studied it because he thought it would be easier than something concrete like sciences or math," Akihiko suggested. Hiroki growled. Nothing pissed him off more than people who treated literature like it was boring or worse, easy. There was so much depth and complexity in historical novels; it was like building three-dimensional art out of words. Hiroki could never understand why so many other people seemed oblivious to that.

Then again, as far as he was concerned, the majority of people were blithering idiots. Much like the person he spotted running to catch up to them now. "Usagi!" Takahashi called, a little out of breath. "There you are! You left class too fast. Hello, Kamijou-kun."

"Hey," Hiroki replied with as much grace as he could muster. Despite the past few weeks he'd spent hanging out with Akihiko and Takahashi, he hadn't been able to bring himself to warm up to the other boy. Thankfully, Takahashi seemed as oblivious to Hiroki's antagonism as he was to Akihiko's interest in him.

It didn't help that Hiroki had to watch the way Akihiko's expression went all soft and mushy at the sight of the guy. "Takahiro," he said, smiling at the boy he loved. Hiroki could have gagged.

"Usagi, I'm so sorry to hear about the contest," Takahashi said, confusing Hiroki. "I read the results at lunch, but then I didn't have a chance to talk to you since then. Are you okay?"

Akihiko looked startled, then warmly grateful. "It's nothing," he said, shrugging. "Given the competition, I didn't really expect to win. It's enough that they chose me as a finalist at all."

"Contest?" Hiroki repeated, now utterly baffled. "What contest? Finalist? What the hell are you guys talking about?"

"Eh? The writing contest that Usagi entered last month, of course," Takahashi said, turning to Hiroki with a surprised look. "Did you forget the results would be announced today? They put it in the paper and everything."

Hiroki was no more enlightened than he had been to start with. "Why the hell didn't you tell me about this?" he demanded of Akihiko, hurt. Wasn't he Akihiko's best friend? Just because the guy had a crush on an idiot was no reason for him not to tell Hiroki about something that big.

"I did, Hiroki," Akihiko said, with a tone of exasperated amusement. "Several times, in fact."

"Bullshit." Hiroki frowned at him. "This is the first I've heard of it. Twit. You just thought you told me."

"But he did tell you," Takahashi insisted. "At the same time he told me, in the library. We've talked about it several times. You even commented on it."

"You were writing that essay," Akihiko told him. "I swear, Hiroki, it's like your mouth is on autopilot when you're working on something. You participate in the conversation, but your brain clearly isn't engaged."

Hiroki stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, stunned. Was that possible? Could he really have forgotten something that important? If it had just been Akihiko, he'd have brushed it off as a joke or his friend being absentminded. It had happened before, after all.

Or had it? All those times when Akihiko thought he'd told Hiroki something but actually hadn't... Had he? And this was just the first time he'd had a witness to back him up?

"Don't worry about it, Hiroki," Akihiko said, shaking his head and clapping Hiroki on the shoulder. "You're just a little focused. I get the same way when I'm writing."

"But are you sure you're okay about the contest?" Takahashi asked, as the two of them continued walking. "You seemed down all day, I just couldn't figure out why until I read the results."

"I'm fine," Akihiko assured him. "I suppose it was a little disappointing, but I'll have to get used to that if I really want to be published."

Still standing there, Hiroki stared after them, feeling like he'd had a boulder dropped on him. Akihiko had been down? Enough that Takahashi-the-Oblivious had noticed? Why hadn't Hiroki realized?

Because he'd been too caught up in his own anger over his mark on the essay, he realized numbly. The same essay he'd apparently been too absorbed in writing to actually register something as important as Akihiko being a finalist in what must have been a big contest.

Finally, finally Hiroki realized just what it was Akihiko saw in Takahashi, at least in part. The guy might be oblivious to Akihiko's interest... but clearly that didn't extend to obliviousness of Akihiko in general. And Takahashi was so easy-going that he always had attention to spare for other people's concerns and problems, instead of getting wrapped up in his own.

The way Hiroki always did.

Since the day they'd first met in their secret place, Akihiko had been helping Hiroki deal with this or that problem, supporting him and encouraging him. And yeah, sure, Hiroki supported and encouraged Akihiko in turn about his writing. But he'd never really made Akihiko his priority, he realized now.

Takahashi could, and had. And that was why Akihiko had fallen for him instead of Hiroki.

Feeling shamed and humbled, Hiroki managed to kickstart his brain again and jogged to catch up with the other two. "Hey, wait for me!" he called, much subdued. They turned to smile at him, and now that Akihiko was laughing again, Hiroki could indeed see by contrast that he'd been down before. Takahashi had already teased him into a better mood.

Hiroki resolved in that moment to pay better attention to the people he cared about, but even so he knew he would never be able to devote his full attention to Akihiko the way Takahashi could and did.

In his heart, he silently released his hope that Akihiko would give up on Takahashi and turn to him. Hiroki would never like it, and was fairly certain he would always love Akihiko, but he knew now that Takahashi would be a million times better for Akihiko than Hiroki could be, even if he never noticed that Akihiko wanted him.

As long as Akihiko had someone who could make him happy, that would just have to be enough for Hiroki.