Post by Dreamer of Words on Aug 30, 2009 19:09:08 GMT -5
Open Loss by Dreamer of Words and Kiki - Inspired by roleplay
Warnings: Mild Spoilers, Bloodplay, Yaoi
Genre: Drama/Romance
Pairing(s): Kuja/Zidane
Kuja leaned over the smaller blond male, watching the fear in his widening eyes. He held Zidane down with an inhumanly strong grip. Fangs gleamed from the corners of his mouth as he began to salivate, his grip tightening around the boy's shoulder.
"Ah, my Angel of Death..." He cooed poetically. "Who will be your Reaper?" He brushed a stray lock of golden hair out of Zidane's eyes, the wickedly sadistic grin growing as the boy began to struggle under him.
Zidane was squirming valiantly. He was beaten soundly by the silver-maned male moments before, tail thrashing as he attempted to Trance again...but he felt the grip threaten to break his shoulder if he tried to repeat the endeavor. "Ngh!"
He didn't want to watch this...this evil other try to glean attention and fear, clenching his eyes shut as much as this was affecting him. Ah, but there wasn't another thought as Kuja wasn't letting up... His eyes shot open again, the blue eyes pleading for some way of being saved, a brief look of despair flashing over his features as he TRIPLED his efforts to get free... without Trance it would be harder than hell... "L-let me go...now..." He spat out in a pained way.
Kuja's smile brightened, as the boy's reactions became more desperate. Holding Zidane with just one hand, he pinned both of the youth's arms, using his free hand to stroke the boy's exposed neck. His painted fingernails raked across the warm flesh, drawing tiny lines of blood.
"Angel of Death, or little rabbit? His attempts to escape are futile, nonetheless." Instead of talking at Zidane directly, he ignored him as if he were an animal, who couldn't understand the tongue in which he spoke. Instead he spoke as if addressing a large audience. Now he bent down, sensually running his tongue along the lines of drawn blood. "Little rabbit's blood is like a narcotic to me." He said in his theatrical, dramatic voice.
Zidane was dreading the thought of discovering what kind of drugs Kuja had to be on to enjoy this kind of torturous teasing. "Ah!" His hands were trapped! He just would not admit defeat... That was to give the other what he wanted most... But still, what kind of deluded individual was the other - acting like the sanguine liquid he drew was an obvious addiction?! "Y-you're sick..."
He started, trying to distract Kuja, whom was preying on him, by means of trying to extend the monologue. "Wh-what are you; a monster...?" He said a bit sourly, to the other, the cold tongue nearly educing a moan, battling the urge to produce any sounds of helplessness.
Kuja looked into the powdered azure eyes as his gaze curiously studied the other's pained features. "Monster? Not me." He uttered facetiously, tenderly stroking Zidane's chest. He reduced the amount of pressure he was restraining the blond Genome with; his violet-silver hair fell against the teen's lips as the older man lowered his head. "I only take what is stolen from me. You were the perfect me, the better Angel. My life was finite, and now so shall be yours."
He bowed so that his lips were against the flesh which radiated heat, once again, breathing in deeply as he took the scents of the other into himself. It was a struggle not to tear into the other's throat and drain him until his heart had nothing to pump. Kuja curbed his carnal hunger, prolonging the emotions he incurred from the pulsing warmth against his lips.
A whimper eluded the teen’s lips. The sea-green depths of Kuja’s eyes were filled with petty animosity... His own features were alighting with hope as he bucked and attempted to knee the other in the thong – only to learn the HARD way that it was made of metal. "Nnh!" Stifled curses muttered under his breath as he recoiled from his vain effort to free himself, if only for the one over his self not be fazed in the slightest!
"Tch," Zidane shook the hair away from his lips, "here you say, stolen! But...what in the name of anything, did I do to bring about your 'fall from grace'?!" They had reached a stalemate, and he might've pushed the other too far to spare he and his allies’ lives... "I-if you only wanted to get at me; then let my friends go, Kuja..." Begging? Yes - Zidane was.
Kuja's laugh rose in great trembles as he heard the pleading tone of the boy's voice. "No more shall I be second to you." The rise and fall of his laughs echoed through the halls of his castle. He felt a surge of delight at the boy's submissive nature. He finally felt substantially stronger than his counterpart.
"No more…" He whispered, now pressing his teeth against the throat, feeling the panic rush through the other's body. He bore his canines into the throat’s tissue until he felt the blistering hot liquid flow into his mouth and down his throat. Groaning in between gulps, the intimate experience was consuming his normally cool logic.
Icy terror flooded Zidane's senses...to Trance right now would give him a bit more time to act... yet at what cost? One thing was certain - he wasn't the one to be going down without a full fight! He tried, though, it made him so very dizzy even with the assistance of the enveloping hidden power, to shove the other away by his knees...
"Aah!" A strangled cry resounded in the air, as the sheer pain brought him away from the Trance. He...was slipping against the rough sucking...stopping to gasp for a breath... it was mostly coming in pants and at a shallow pace... Despairing, even...? But then a wave of pleasure hit him, a surprised gasp escaping his throat.
Kuja's own panic threatened to rise up from his chest as he realized Zidane's heart was beating slower, his breaths growing shorter and more labored. Death was devouring his 'sibling', which was what he desired, wasn't it? No, not anymore, he didn't want Zidane to cease from being. Just as he felt the last beats of the boy's heart, he tore himself away, panting, a string of saliva and blood hanging from his tongue. "No more..." He repeated, bracing himself against the ground as his head spun. The euphoric glow of fresh blood pulsed through himself, this strange feeling reminded him of sexual climax.
His respirations were heaving pants, and if his heart could still beat, he was sure it would explode out of his breast.
In the back of his mind, Zidane had known all along what Kuja was, his assumptions of this fiendish monstrosity were indeed not far off. Yet the more he thought, the less he found himself able to concentrate on things that would've normally made sense to him. Why did he feel like he was about to combust, if he was simply dying?
"...Nnghh..." And his tail was quaking as he saw the dimming image of Kuja pull away... Did he just hear the other moan lavishly? Hell, if the other's head was spinning, he himself felt like he was to break like a finely made doll of glass... It would just have to end like this, huh? Yet...it did not feel like death. He felt like he was dead already, and the only thing that convinced him otherwise was the throbbing reminder of severe pain that afflicted him.
With a shuddering sigh, Kuja felt the one under him fall into an involuntary slumber. He carried the limp, unconscious body up the winding stairs of his castle, careful not to injure his captive any further. He supported the blonde's head with a careful hand, his other arm locked underneath his legs. He passed several doorways as he climbed the stairs until he reached the doorway to an unused bedroom. This bedroom wasn't his personally, and it had never been used, but this didn't deter him from entering as if it were familiar to him. With measured delicate movements, he placed the boy on the noir sheets, the fine-spun texture brushing against his bare arms.
The gentle breaths escaped from Zidane's mouth as he slumbered, eliciting a content sigh from Kuja. He concentrated, struggling to listen carefully, but there was an absence of heartbeat in the room, which made his returning anxiety burn more brilliantly in his chest. He had produced inside Zidane a monster just like himself.
Zidane was reminded of an old Gaian saying: "If one man is to break another’s humanity, would it plunge them both into absolute despair?" Somehow, conscious or not - human or not, there was a small part of him that found solace in the fact that his friends were most likely better off, emotionally, and physically. He felt himself vaguely being placed onto some bed with fine silk or evenly spun linens... Yet he did not yet want to get up and tell the others what had happened, he didn't want them to know that they’d be better off never seeing him again.
He felt as if someone had plunged a dagger into his heart, pain ebbed away to be replaced by a verily dull awareness; eyes snapping open, an empty rage filling his senses, as if to get a loose grip on his own sanity. The feelings and images fell back into place in his memory, piece-by-piece. He'd been stupid for trying in the mostly heated moment to take on Kuja alone... hastening to fight him without thinking, aggressions fueled by a bitter resolve...that didn’t seem like him. He shouldn't have shut out his friends, and normally, he wouldn’t think of it. But when it came to Kuja, things were always different.
Kuja’s body was slumped uncharacteristically in the throne-like chair at the foot of the bed he had placed Zidane in. The rise and fall of his chest was unnecessary, but he himself had never shaken the habit of involuntarily breathing. He clenched his fist in mild irritation, the intangible thought of Zidane, the pure-hearted one, becoming a monster waged war inside of his thoughts. He played with the thought of killing the boy as if the idea were his prey, batting the thought around like it was a rag doll.
He leaned against the arm of the large chair, closing his eyes in meditation as he listened carefully for the boy to awaken.
Here he had thought the other to be human...able to be put under any sort salvation...! The hair at the back of his neck rose as his barely opened, now slightly calmer eyes fixed on Kuja...though it wasn't as much of a hatred than a confused look at first... then so much of the memory replayed in his head in an instant...one that seemed more prominant the less he wanted to think of!
His throat was very dry, so he couldn't speak without an uncool rasp, if anything, but he did manage to sound normal... "I...I'm not fucking dead yet...damnit!" He stated, grabbing a feather duster and flinging it to Kuja's perch - missing, but doing a nice dent to the chair. "What the hell did you do...?! Where do you get off thinking that I'm gonna be dispairing for you on beck and call...I'm gonna live, and I'm just not gonna give up because of you!!"
Kuja chuckled, "Your song is a little out of tune, I'm afraid." He opened his eyes and leaned back comfortably in the chair, not perturbed by Zidane's outburst at all.
"Hm..." He mused, folding his arms across his chest. "Come, won’t you dance with me?" He swept himself up in a quick motion and slung the heavy metal chair at the bed with little effort. The large chair crashed into the foot of the bed, bending the metal with a deafening crunch.
Had Zidane not been ready for a response, his legs might not have been saved from the same fate as the chair and bed, though a bit of the chair aided in his departure, as the bed lurched forwards, helping to launch him!
"Dancing's fine, just so long as you're not gonna play any horrid music!!" Ah, still a witty reply... He tried to swipe at the other male...an easy dodge to the makeshift, crude weapons, though not to a tail clutching onto a wrist to ease his fall, letting go to regain full balance...or at least his own shaky footing. "Nh..."
Kuja offered a stern hand in assistance, but instead of waiting for acceptance from the blond, he forcefully righted Zidane’s wobbly stance. "Be careful. Wouldn't want to hurt that pretty face of yours." He pried the tail off of his wrist, the strange feel of another’s touch made his chest ache with longing. Before that moment, he had only felt touch in the form of pain, abuse, war, violence - the things he was made for. He was created to bring havoc upon Gaia, not to be touched by another. Kuja threw his hands down in exasperation, storming across the room. He acted like Zidane had never existed, and he was alone, by himself in his solitary thinking game. A worried, pained look dominated his graceful features.
Did his own brother have to yank the shoulder hard as the hell he could - the one he threatened to break prior to this petty argument? Zidane scowled and then growled, stating: "Not me that you should be worried of!" He somehow found the strength to make a mad dash at Kuja and left his weapons behind in his wake - jumping onto the other's back like some deranged imp of sorts, then listening to the voice in his head to bite down...for what, though, evading his own logical means. Thoroughly confused; actually. Where had that resolve come from?! And what was he doing, actually...? Lashing out...like his brother had? It actually frightened him...
"What are you doing?" Kuja demanded, his voice laced with haughty curiosity. The boy’s arms were latched around his shoulders and his stumbled to keep the two upright. He pulled on the other’s arms, but didn’t bother to produce any force, because the other being on top of him was just a slight discomfort. "Are you done?" He said, demanding again.
Zidane flinched, pulling away somewhat clumsily. He didn't exactly know the answer, but this at least soothed his throat... Finally snapping back to his senses, he looked torn as usual when around the elder... Though, now, quite a lot rattled! It wasn't fair...was it? "Wh-what are we now, besides outcasts...?" He seemed a bit scared, but that was his only fear. "It isn't fair."
"What were we ever, but outcasts?" Kuja sighed listlessly. A crimson trickle poured from the bite wound on his bare neck, but he didn’t seem to notice it.
A soft melody floated into the room, the notes wrapping around the two in a elegant dance. Kuja closed his eyes in concentration as he listened to the enigmatic tune. It was the clock’s call, the melody that played when the clock struck midnight. "I’ll release your friends, if. If..."
"If...what...?" Zidane admitted he was scared, mentally, physically... but it didn't matter. He didn't want to betray his friends...a second time today. It might've meant leaving them for a while, but he wouldn't just be giving up...would he?! No...he wouldn't be as stupid as to fully give up... But the clock seemed to calm him... Like a familiar breeze, somehow - but that didn't seem to be anywhere near his concerns right now... He just was one to have hope in the end.
"What have I wanted all this time?" He shook the other forcefully. "Don't you know what I want?" He laughed softly, looking at the other's hope-filled eyes. He felt like he was bringing a punishment or a sentence onto Zidane, and he didn't want him to feel that way...yet. It seemed necessary.
"...Love...?" There was a bit of flailing about for that answer. "To be loved by your friends is one of the best things that I can tell you about." He never learned... But if he had to give up his friends for a while, then so be it, he would just endure that for their sakes... Even though he didn't want to right now! A gulp was met without hesitation while he searched for words...no, the right words; and not finding them; thinking back to the only thing he hadn't done out of the unsaid pevert's code - besides sex, mind you - KISSING the other, as sweetly and gently on the lips as he managed to think of something less than arousing... It'd be a stark contrast as he didn't want to see his brother in that light, at all!
Warnings: Mild Spoilers, Bloodplay, Yaoi
Genre: Drama/Romance
Pairing(s): Kuja/Zidane
Kuja leaned over the smaller blond male, watching the fear in his widening eyes. He held Zidane down with an inhumanly strong grip. Fangs gleamed from the corners of his mouth as he began to salivate, his grip tightening around the boy's shoulder.
"Ah, my Angel of Death..." He cooed poetically. "Who will be your Reaper?" He brushed a stray lock of golden hair out of Zidane's eyes, the wickedly sadistic grin growing as the boy began to struggle under him.
Zidane was squirming valiantly. He was beaten soundly by the silver-maned male moments before, tail thrashing as he attempted to Trance again...but he felt the grip threaten to break his shoulder if he tried to repeat the endeavor. "Ngh!"
He didn't want to watch this...this evil other try to glean attention and fear, clenching his eyes shut as much as this was affecting him. Ah, but there wasn't another thought as Kuja wasn't letting up... His eyes shot open again, the blue eyes pleading for some way of being saved, a brief look of despair flashing over his features as he TRIPLED his efforts to get free... without Trance it would be harder than hell... "L-let me go...now..." He spat out in a pained way.
Kuja's smile brightened, as the boy's reactions became more desperate. Holding Zidane with just one hand, he pinned both of the youth's arms, using his free hand to stroke the boy's exposed neck. His painted fingernails raked across the warm flesh, drawing tiny lines of blood.
"Angel of Death, or little rabbit? His attempts to escape are futile, nonetheless." Instead of talking at Zidane directly, he ignored him as if he were an animal, who couldn't understand the tongue in which he spoke. Instead he spoke as if addressing a large audience. Now he bent down, sensually running his tongue along the lines of drawn blood. "Little rabbit's blood is like a narcotic to me." He said in his theatrical, dramatic voice.
Zidane was dreading the thought of discovering what kind of drugs Kuja had to be on to enjoy this kind of torturous teasing. "Ah!" His hands were trapped! He just would not admit defeat... That was to give the other what he wanted most... But still, what kind of deluded individual was the other - acting like the sanguine liquid he drew was an obvious addiction?! "Y-you're sick..."
He started, trying to distract Kuja, whom was preying on him, by means of trying to extend the monologue. "Wh-what are you; a monster...?" He said a bit sourly, to the other, the cold tongue nearly educing a moan, battling the urge to produce any sounds of helplessness.
Kuja looked into the powdered azure eyes as his gaze curiously studied the other's pained features. "Monster? Not me." He uttered facetiously, tenderly stroking Zidane's chest. He reduced the amount of pressure he was restraining the blond Genome with; his violet-silver hair fell against the teen's lips as the older man lowered his head. "I only take what is stolen from me. You were the perfect me, the better Angel. My life was finite, and now so shall be yours."
He bowed so that his lips were against the flesh which radiated heat, once again, breathing in deeply as he took the scents of the other into himself. It was a struggle not to tear into the other's throat and drain him until his heart had nothing to pump. Kuja curbed his carnal hunger, prolonging the emotions he incurred from the pulsing warmth against his lips.
A whimper eluded the teen’s lips. The sea-green depths of Kuja’s eyes were filled with petty animosity... His own features were alighting with hope as he bucked and attempted to knee the other in the thong – only to learn the HARD way that it was made of metal. "Nnh!" Stifled curses muttered under his breath as he recoiled from his vain effort to free himself, if only for the one over his self not be fazed in the slightest!
"Tch," Zidane shook the hair away from his lips, "here you say, stolen! But...what in the name of anything, did I do to bring about your 'fall from grace'?!" They had reached a stalemate, and he might've pushed the other too far to spare he and his allies’ lives... "I-if you only wanted to get at me; then let my friends go, Kuja..." Begging? Yes - Zidane was.
Kuja's laugh rose in great trembles as he heard the pleading tone of the boy's voice. "No more shall I be second to you." The rise and fall of his laughs echoed through the halls of his castle. He felt a surge of delight at the boy's submissive nature. He finally felt substantially stronger than his counterpart.
"No more…" He whispered, now pressing his teeth against the throat, feeling the panic rush through the other's body. He bore his canines into the throat’s tissue until he felt the blistering hot liquid flow into his mouth and down his throat. Groaning in between gulps, the intimate experience was consuming his normally cool logic.
Icy terror flooded Zidane's senses...to Trance right now would give him a bit more time to act... yet at what cost? One thing was certain - he wasn't the one to be going down without a full fight! He tried, though, it made him so very dizzy even with the assistance of the enveloping hidden power, to shove the other away by his knees...
"Aah!" A strangled cry resounded in the air, as the sheer pain brought him away from the Trance. He...was slipping against the rough sucking...stopping to gasp for a breath... it was mostly coming in pants and at a shallow pace... Despairing, even...? But then a wave of pleasure hit him, a surprised gasp escaping his throat.
Kuja's own panic threatened to rise up from his chest as he realized Zidane's heart was beating slower, his breaths growing shorter and more labored. Death was devouring his 'sibling', which was what he desired, wasn't it? No, not anymore, he didn't want Zidane to cease from being. Just as he felt the last beats of the boy's heart, he tore himself away, panting, a string of saliva and blood hanging from his tongue. "No more..." He repeated, bracing himself against the ground as his head spun. The euphoric glow of fresh blood pulsed through himself, this strange feeling reminded him of sexual climax.
His respirations were heaving pants, and if his heart could still beat, he was sure it would explode out of his breast.
In the back of his mind, Zidane had known all along what Kuja was, his assumptions of this fiendish monstrosity were indeed not far off. Yet the more he thought, the less he found himself able to concentrate on things that would've normally made sense to him. Why did he feel like he was about to combust, if he was simply dying?
"...Nnghh..." And his tail was quaking as he saw the dimming image of Kuja pull away... Did he just hear the other moan lavishly? Hell, if the other's head was spinning, he himself felt like he was to break like a finely made doll of glass... It would just have to end like this, huh? Yet...it did not feel like death. He felt like he was dead already, and the only thing that convinced him otherwise was the throbbing reminder of severe pain that afflicted him.
With a shuddering sigh, Kuja felt the one under him fall into an involuntary slumber. He carried the limp, unconscious body up the winding stairs of his castle, careful not to injure his captive any further. He supported the blonde's head with a careful hand, his other arm locked underneath his legs. He passed several doorways as he climbed the stairs until he reached the doorway to an unused bedroom. This bedroom wasn't his personally, and it had never been used, but this didn't deter him from entering as if it were familiar to him. With measured delicate movements, he placed the boy on the noir sheets, the fine-spun texture brushing against his bare arms.
The gentle breaths escaped from Zidane's mouth as he slumbered, eliciting a content sigh from Kuja. He concentrated, struggling to listen carefully, but there was an absence of heartbeat in the room, which made his returning anxiety burn more brilliantly in his chest. He had produced inside Zidane a monster just like himself.
Zidane was reminded of an old Gaian saying: "If one man is to break another’s humanity, would it plunge them both into absolute despair?" Somehow, conscious or not - human or not, there was a small part of him that found solace in the fact that his friends were most likely better off, emotionally, and physically. He felt himself vaguely being placed onto some bed with fine silk or evenly spun linens... Yet he did not yet want to get up and tell the others what had happened, he didn't want them to know that they’d be better off never seeing him again.
He felt as if someone had plunged a dagger into his heart, pain ebbed away to be replaced by a verily dull awareness; eyes snapping open, an empty rage filling his senses, as if to get a loose grip on his own sanity. The feelings and images fell back into place in his memory, piece-by-piece. He'd been stupid for trying in the mostly heated moment to take on Kuja alone... hastening to fight him without thinking, aggressions fueled by a bitter resolve...that didn’t seem like him. He shouldn't have shut out his friends, and normally, he wouldn’t think of it. But when it came to Kuja, things were always different.
Kuja’s body was slumped uncharacteristically in the throne-like chair at the foot of the bed he had placed Zidane in. The rise and fall of his chest was unnecessary, but he himself had never shaken the habit of involuntarily breathing. He clenched his fist in mild irritation, the intangible thought of Zidane, the pure-hearted one, becoming a monster waged war inside of his thoughts. He played with the thought of killing the boy as if the idea were his prey, batting the thought around like it was a rag doll.
He leaned against the arm of the large chair, closing his eyes in meditation as he listened carefully for the boy to awaken.
Here he had thought the other to be human...able to be put under any sort salvation...! The hair at the back of his neck rose as his barely opened, now slightly calmer eyes fixed on Kuja...though it wasn't as much of a hatred than a confused look at first... then so much of the memory replayed in his head in an instant...one that seemed more prominant the less he wanted to think of!
His throat was very dry, so he couldn't speak without an uncool rasp, if anything, but he did manage to sound normal... "I...I'm not fucking dead yet...damnit!" He stated, grabbing a feather duster and flinging it to Kuja's perch - missing, but doing a nice dent to the chair. "What the hell did you do...?! Where do you get off thinking that I'm gonna be dispairing for you on beck and call...I'm gonna live, and I'm just not gonna give up because of you!!"
Kuja chuckled, "Your song is a little out of tune, I'm afraid." He opened his eyes and leaned back comfortably in the chair, not perturbed by Zidane's outburst at all.
"Hm..." He mused, folding his arms across his chest. "Come, won’t you dance with me?" He swept himself up in a quick motion and slung the heavy metal chair at the bed with little effort. The large chair crashed into the foot of the bed, bending the metal with a deafening crunch.
Had Zidane not been ready for a response, his legs might not have been saved from the same fate as the chair and bed, though a bit of the chair aided in his departure, as the bed lurched forwards, helping to launch him!
"Dancing's fine, just so long as you're not gonna play any horrid music!!" Ah, still a witty reply... He tried to swipe at the other male...an easy dodge to the makeshift, crude weapons, though not to a tail clutching onto a wrist to ease his fall, letting go to regain full balance...or at least his own shaky footing. "Nh..."
Kuja offered a stern hand in assistance, but instead of waiting for acceptance from the blond, he forcefully righted Zidane’s wobbly stance. "Be careful. Wouldn't want to hurt that pretty face of yours." He pried the tail off of his wrist, the strange feel of another’s touch made his chest ache with longing. Before that moment, he had only felt touch in the form of pain, abuse, war, violence - the things he was made for. He was created to bring havoc upon Gaia, not to be touched by another. Kuja threw his hands down in exasperation, storming across the room. He acted like Zidane had never existed, and he was alone, by himself in his solitary thinking game. A worried, pained look dominated his graceful features.
Did his own brother have to yank the shoulder hard as the hell he could - the one he threatened to break prior to this petty argument? Zidane scowled and then growled, stating: "Not me that you should be worried of!" He somehow found the strength to make a mad dash at Kuja and left his weapons behind in his wake - jumping onto the other's back like some deranged imp of sorts, then listening to the voice in his head to bite down...for what, though, evading his own logical means. Thoroughly confused; actually. Where had that resolve come from?! And what was he doing, actually...? Lashing out...like his brother had? It actually frightened him...
"What are you doing?" Kuja demanded, his voice laced with haughty curiosity. The boy’s arms were latched around his shoulders and his stumbled to keep the two upright. He pulled on the other’s arms, but didn’t bother to produce any force, because the other being on top of him was just a slight discomfort. "Are you done?" He said, demanding again.
Zidane flinched, pulling away somewhat clumsily. He didn't exactly know the answer, but this at least soothed his throat... Finally snapping back to his senses, he looked torn as usual when around the elder... Though, now, quite a lot rattled! It wasn't fair...was it? "Wh-what are we now, besides outcasts...?" He seemed a bit scared, but that was his only fear. "It isn't fair."
"What were we ever, but outcasts?" Kuja sighed listlessly. A crimson trickle poured from the bite wound on his bare neck, but he didn’t seem to notice it.
A soft melody floated into the room, the notes wrapping around the two in a elegant dance. Kuja closed his eyes in concentration as he listened to the enigmatic tune. It was the clock’s call, the melody that played when the clock struck midnight. "I’ll release your friends, if. If..."
"If...what...?" Zidane admitted he was scared, mentally, physically... but it didn't matter. He didn't want to betray his friends...a second time today. It might've meant leaving them for a while, but he wouldn't just be giving up...would he?! No...he wouldn't be as stupid as to fully give up... But the clock seemed to calm him... Like a familiar breeze, somehow - but that didn't seem to be anywhere near his concerns right now... He just was one to have hope in the end.
"What have I wanted all this time?" He shook the other forcefully. "Don't you know what I want?" He laughed softly, looking at the other's hope-filled eyes. He felt like he was bringing a punishment or a sentence onto Zidane, and he didn't want him to feel that way...yet. It seemed necessary.
"...Love...?" There was a bit of flailing about for that answer. "To be loved by your friends is one of the best things that I can tell you about." He never learned... But if he had to give up his friends for a while, then so be it, he would just endure that for their sakes... Even though he didn't want to right now! A gulp was met without hesitation while he searched for words...no, the right words; and not finding them; thinking back to the only thing he hadn't done out of the unsaid pevert's code - besides sex, mind you - KISSING the other, as sweetly and gently on the lips as he managed to think of something less than arousing... It'd be a stark contrast as he didn't want to see his brother in that light, at all!