Fandom: Advent Children
Pairing: Yazoo x Kadaj
Warnings: Blood, violent scenery, sexy descriptions of Geostigma, hot bishie sex - hot graphic bishie sex!
Notes: Don't ask me where it came from. o.o;; I was angry. It happened. >.>; Written in one shot over the last few hours. (Dear god it's 5am!) There might be typos.. I tried to edit, my brain's no longer functioning properly.
Slickness. Everywhere, beneath their hands, covering their bodies. The coppery taste and scent of pure crimson shed from lives not their own, from bodies less perfect than their own. It invaded their senses, their thoughts – heightening the lust, the madness, the insanity built up by the kill, the hunt, the exhilaration of having that much power, that much control over a life – over multiple lives that expired just like that… with the flick of a wrist, sweep of a blade, pull of a trigger. The echo still ringed in their heads, the cries, the screams, the pleading, and the praying to some unknown god who could not and would not save them. Such god would be reborn once this was over, once their mission was complete. The anxiety led to extremes, to bouts of madness, to bloodbaths, to the lust that drove their bodies into the blood-splattered wall, brought the groans from their lips, the urgency to their movements.
Metal hit the floor, forgotten momentarily – the perpetrator in the kill. Bloodied blades, shimmering in the soft light that fell upon them, slipping in through the gap between buildings, through windows that hadn’t seen a cleaning in months. The gasping sound of death still sounded faintly behind them… forgotten in the distant past, across meters of destruction. Such gasping was ignored, if even heard. The sound of leather creaking as bodies pressed together, zippers whirring, buckles unhooking, the soft groans of pleasure, stifled by lips moving together in needy unison.
There was nothing other than perfection then, as blood-smeared fingers pulled away those straps, the long coat that covered his small body. Digits slid down his elegantly toned chest, smearing the sins across flawless, pale flesh. Kadaj groaned in appreciation, head tilting back against the wall. Just as those fingers smeared the result of the night’s madness over such perfect canvas, soft lips descended downward, the brush of his tongue lapping, cleaning at the messy strokes of the macabre artwork until his leather-bound knees hit the floor. Teeth bit at the leather at his waist, unsnapping the button as hands expertly unbound the straps that kept his coat secured to his legs. Those undone, the heavy coat was dropped. Yazoo quickly yanked at the pants that stood in his way, angrily pulling away at the thick fabric, rolling it down those almost girlish hips all the while he felt his brother’s smaller hands tug at his hair in urgency. Casting him a quick upwards glance, he leaned in, lips brushing, teasing, taunting soft flesh, sliding down his thighs as he felt the heat of his sex brush his cheek. Kadaj shuddered visibly just at that slight touch… more so as those lips were directed at the heated flesh. Tongue flicking lightly at his length as fingers dug into his hips, keeping him still, pressed almost painfully to that wall, at his mercy.
“Ah-…” Kadaj gasped, those young features becoming suddenly vulnerable, painted with such emotional abandon that reflected so clearly upon his eyes. “Ya-..” he knew his name would’ve been uttered from those tainted, bruised lips, but he did not wait to hear it as lips engulfed his length, teeth dragging lightly against the sensitive flesh, drawing a cry from him, a near-violent shiver, a tug at his hair, nails into his shoulder. He groaned deeply in his throat, the vibrations only heightened the pleasure of his ministrations as his tongue slid against the heated flesh, tasting the bitter-sweetness that was all his, that he longed for.
Those whorish lips worked at him, milking the pleasure from his body with ardent fierceness. The sounds that escaped that mouth, however, were enough to make him twitch in turn, to make those tight pants incredibly uncomfortable, his clothes unbearably warm. Did he even hear himself? The moans, the cries, the short breaths that rasped in his chest. He was gorgeous, addictive. Yazoo wanted more… much more, he decided as his lips fell away from his younger brother’s hardened member. A pitiful whimper escaped him, but did not last very long as he slid up his body, leather brushing against the sensitive length, making him cry out sharply before any further sounds were silenced by his lips. His tongue explored, passing forth into the warm cavity of his mouth, allowing Kadaj to taste himself upon his lips.
Finally those hands reached up, untangling themselves from silvery strands to tug at the long zipper of his coat. He felt as if he could even breathe easier once the tightness eased from around his throat and chest… despite the marred flesh that appeared beneath, tainted by the impurities that plagued the planet. The faintly darker skin was no distraction, however, it had never been. Merely a trail that slid down the right side of his neck, clearing out as it touched his chest. Minor details like that mattered not to them.
He tilted his head back, exhaling softly as Kadaj’s lips took their turn to explore the expanse of newly bared skin. His lips quirked into a smirk, shoulders rolling with cat-like grace as he shook off the heavy garments. The smirk was tainted with a flinch as those wandering lips slid over that affected area of his neck. Regardless of being used to his younger brother’s behavior, he couldn’t help the shivers that raced down his back. The little bastard knew how much more sensitive the area was and used it to his advantage. Biting his lip, he exhaled deeply, hand sliding up the smooth depression of his spine, feeling the bumpy ridges beneath the pads of his fingers.
Although still entranced by kissing the lightly discolored skin, Kadaj had moved his attention to the pants that still stood between them. Hands tugged at them, unbuckling, unzipping, nearly there before he was shoved into the rough wall once again. Eyes widened in surprise or delight. Possibly both. Definitely delight as he took two fingers between his lips, tongue working at them, properly lubricating the lightly calloused digits as Yazoo slid him up that wall, uncaring that it left marks upon his back, scratches that bled minimally but only brought further pleasure to Kadaj’s willing body. Such body, once properly stripped, he hoisted easily, muscles flexing as he supported his brother’s weight between himself and the wall.
Slitted mako-emeralds watched as Kadaj worked moisture around his lips; watched the facial expression that crossed his young features and shuddered, deeming it sufficient. He claimed those lips with his own instead as fingers slid downward, pressing against the pulsing, puckered flesh that awaited him. Kadaj cried out against the kiss, voice stifled, though he knew the discomfort he felt, although momentary. He felt those legs wrap tightly around his waist, those arms tighten around his shoulders; felt himself pressing closer as he prepared him.
Perhaps it was the light breeze that blew – that always blew through Midgar, drawing with it the scents of the city, of poverty, of mako poisoning, of abandoned buildings, of death, destruction… the fresh scent of blood caught his nostrils once more, assaulted his senses, his thoughts. That string of madness causing a grin to return to his lips as he pressed closer, lips brushing his brother’s jaw line. ‘Are you alright…” he whispered huskily, voice drawn out, sultry. A mere shaky nod was his only response. Good enough. It would have to do. The need was too urgent, the desire far too great. He needed this. They both need, he could tell by the way Kadaj clung to him, nails digging into his back, body yearning for more than the measly finger-fucking he offered as preparation.
“Hurry…” he whimpered, lips brushing against his ear.
Yazoo had seen Kadaj needy. He had seen him at his best, at his worst, but the times he sunk to begging could be counted on one hand with slots left to fill. If anything could make his body ache, throb, harden with pure desire, then the look in those eyes, the tone of that voice surely did it. He did not bother to warn him… Kadaj knew of the pain. He even welcomed it; said it made him feel alive. The pain indeed ripped through him, gradually so minimize damage. The blood smeared upon them could only go so far.
He groaned softly into his brother’s ear, running his fingers through the softness of his hair, breathing him in. Finally, deeply seated within Kadaj’s shivering body, he released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Hips shifted causing his younger sibling to whimper. “More…” he mouthed; the whisper barely audible. Willing to please, he did move, the initial care gradually forgotten as the rhythm grew, as skin touched, rubbed together, as the sharp cry that escaped the younger spirit’s lips encouraged him further, telling him he’d found that spot that’d cause such cries, rising to screams of untamable passion with each strike, each thrust. Sweat broke upon their skin, dripping down contours of toned muscles, of graceful cuts.
The wall scratched at his back mercilessly; Yazoo could tell from the fresh scent of blood; the light glisten that appeared after several minutes; from the way Kadaj winced in pain and shuddered delightfully. He could have just as easily remedied the situation; made it more comfortable but the thought did not even cross his mind; nor would Kadaj even allow such a change.
The cries escalated gradually, the unbearable rhythm making him nearly dizzy as he kissed at his younger brother’s shoulder; bit into the tender flesh that connected at the base of his neck, causing him to gasp, cry, mutter incoherently as he struggled to pull him deeper, strike that spot. A sure thrust of slim hips brought that sensation as it brought him dangerously closer to that edge of madness of momentary bliss. The mark was left on his skin, and was complimented by a second, lower on his chest. He licked at the traces of blood he had left behind, tasting the bitter sweetness of the coppery substance as he marked him – his property, but not his toy. There was no toying in their relationship, as fucked up and incomprehensible as it might be. They understood it – it was a case of loyalty, of togetherness to accomplish a common goal. Who know what’d happen afterward. Until then they had each other. And despite their filial ties, there were no morals that stopped them from uniting as such.
As thus there were no words to be said once the screams echoed off the dirty walls; once the silence fell heavy upon them once again, bodies sated, consumed by whatever flame had awakened within them that night, brought about the destruction of dozens… or more, they weren’t quite sure or worried about numbers. Not when limbs were tangled; not when Yazoo still remained buried so deeply within his brother’s body, gasping for air, retaining his senses with Kadaj in his arms, collapsed, still, breathing softly, his instant of pleasure having come several moments earlier.
And although no words needed be said, they were always muttered, barely audible – a faint whisper to be lost to the wind if they weren’t paying attention.
“Thank you, nii-san…”
x-posted to acfiction, adventchildren_ and my own journal.