Author's Notes: These two villains are poetry in motion, and I don't think there are enough fics out there with them as a pairing. I decided to write one, as they have some things in common (both of them had a "father" that used them and experimented on them), I thought they might make an interesting pairing.
Sympathy for the Damned
Kuja awoke to find himself alone in his bed. He wasn’t sure due to the cloud cover and the steady drizzle of rain outside his window, but it felt like midmorning. “Which means I’ve missed breakfast,” he sighed forlornly.
He normally wasn’t much of a breakfast person, but for some reason, his stomach was growling savagely at him. It was likely due to a combination of losing all of the dinner he ate last night and his body healing as he slept. Now he would have to wait for lunch. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched, glancing around hopefully. Sephiroth was nowhere in the room. He must have left sometime after Kuja fell asleep. Kuja scratched an itchy spot on his stomach and yawned. It was a shame that Sephiroth hadn’t chosen to stay. The thought of waking up to the sight of the gorgeous swordsman was appealing to Kuja.
Even more appealing was the image of waking up to a naked Sephiroth.
“Oh, you do go on, Kuja,” the sorcerer grumbled to himself with a grin. He looked down his body ruefully, not surprised to see morning wood. Of course, it could just as easily be “Sephiroth wood”, considering some of the things that were going through his mind.
He chuckled and stood up long enough to unfasten the clasps holding his scanty thong together, and the dropped the piece onto the bed casually. He didn’t bother removing any other clothing articles, for he only intended to take care of his condition so as not to embarrass himself. Well, he amended—so as not to make Sephy uncomfortable.
“Sephy,” Kuja said with a giggle. He liked it. He wondered if he’d get his tongue cut out for using the nickname to the owner’s face, however. Sighing, he closed his eyes and began to fondle his jutting erection. He moistened his lips and thought of Sephiroth as he pleasured himself.
Kuja encountered Sephiroth when he went downstairs to the basement level. He was passing by the library door, on his way to the tailoring room, and he stopped and backed up. Sephiroth sat in a high-backed chair with a lamp shining over him, and he held a book in his hands. He had removed his boots and propped his feet up on the nearby ottoman. It was such a different vision of the swordsman that Kuja blinked in surprise. He stared at Sephiroth’s long, stretched out legs, and he wished that the tall young man had decided to remove his black coat as well. The picture that Sephiroth made was sensual, and Kuja chastised himself for fantasizing about walking into the library, straddling Sephiroth’s lap, taking the book out of his hands and ravishing him right there in the chair. He still hadn’t decided if Sephiroth was genuinely attracted to him or just appreciative of his beauty in the same way one would appreciate a butterfly. The man was chaos, and it was difficult to tell whether he was strictly a ladies’ man or a little of both. Kuja felt strongly that Sephiroth didn’t fit into the “males only” category of gender preference.
Annoyed that his seemingly endless carnal hungers were again getting in his way, Kuja huffed and decided that he wouldn’t disturb Sephiroth. He started to continue on to the tailoring room, but Sephiroth’s voice gave him pause. “There’s a plate of orange slices and wheat biscuits in the storage room. You should eat something before fooling with needles, or you might start to shake and end up poking holes in your fingers.”
Kuja’s eyebrows shot into his hair, then just as rapidly drew down. He pressed his lips together and turned around to glare at his fellow prisoner. “I’m not a child, you know. I appreciate your thoughtfulness with saving a breakfast plate for me and all, but your constant patronization is beginning to wear thin.”
Sephiroth glanced up from the book he was reading, and his eyes flashed with amusement. “When you stop acting like a child, I’ll stop treating you like one. The next time I tell you not to do something, don’t do it. I would have been really pissed if you hadn’t been close enough for me to pull you up and I would have had to climb down to get you.”
“Well, maybe if you had given me more INFORMATION, I wouldn’t have ventured out past the wall in the first place!” Kuja said with rising anger, “You never said a thing about our powers being useless beyond these walls, you certainly never explained that tentacle-sprouting boogey-men would come after us, and last but not least, you failed to mention that you had made a compost heap of the other prisoners!”
Sephiroth closed the book he was reading, set it aside, and stood up all in one smooth motion. Realizing that the may have pushed the swordsman too hard, Kuja started to activate a defense shell around himself. Sephiroth was suddenly standing before him, though he hadn’t seen him move. Kuja found himself pushed against the wall of the corridor, with both of his wrists captured in one long, powerful hand and held over his head. The swordsman’s other hand grasped Kuja’s throat, but it didn’t squeeze, and Sephiroth’s hard body pressed roughly against his. Despite the danger, his body reacted wantonly to the contact and he flushed as his groin hardened against the taller man’s thigh.
“You owe me your life twice over, sorcerer,” Sephiroth said in a low, dangerous voice. His breath was hot against the genome’s cheek, and his vise-like grip on his wrists was bruising the delicate flesh. “You’d better strive to keep me from changing my mind and deciding that an eternity alone is preferable to babysitting you.”
Now Kuja’s flush of arousal darkened to one of anger. His eyes flashed and he growled, “Let go of me, before I decide you would look better as a pile of ash.”
Sephiroth’s slit pupils dilated. “Go ahead, if you can,” he dared.
Kuja opened his mouth to do just that, for he was so angry and pumped up with adrenaline at the moment that his common sense was deserting him. Forgetting that he needed this man to help him escape, he prepared to unleash his magic upon Sephiroth.
Sephiroth realized that Kuja was about to cast, and both of his hands were occupied with holding the squirming sorcerer against the wall. So, he used the only thing he had free to interrupt the magic. He crushed his mouth against Kuja’s in a brutal kiss and ground his body harder against his more slender adversary.
Kuja’s muffled exclamation of surprise was quickly followed by a low moan of both pain and arousal. He tried to turn his face and free his mouth, but the hand that Sephiroth had around his throat moved up and gripped his jaw, holding his head still. His tongue thrust aggressively into Kuja’s open mouth, pushing against the sorcerer’s to assert dominance over it.
Kuja’s anger rapidly melted, and the surge of battle lust he had felt was again replaced with sexual lust. He caressed Sephiroth’s thrusting tongue with his own and unwittingly began to rub himself against the swordsman’s thigh. The kiss deepened even further, and Sephiroth’s grip on the genome’s wrists tightened. A husky purr resonated in the swordsman’s throat, and Kuja felt a growing bulge of hardness pushing against his lower abdomen. He moaned against his captor’s mouth and tried to encourage the sexual aggression with body language.
Sephiroth broke away so suddenly that Kuja nearly fell onto his face. The sorcerer stumbled and caught himself, then stared up at his companion with wide eyes and parted, bruised lips. Sephiroth was breathing heavily, but his eyes were cold. He didn’t say anything. He just stared at Kuja for a moment, and the sorcerer caught a brief flash of helpless confusion in his eyes before he abruptly turned and rose off of the floor. “Where are you going?” Kuja asked stupidly.
Sephiroth ignored him and shot out of the hallway so fast that Kuja winced and hoped he paid attention to his steering…otherwise, the gorgeous young man would become a gorgeous new splatter on one of the walls. Kuja rested his back heavily against the corridor wall and shook his head. “Damn him,” he muttered, and he slid down the wall and hugged his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them in a display of limberness. “If boredom doesn’t kill me in this place, sexual frustration surely will!” He wasn’t used to going for more than two days without bedding someone. Usually he chose a handsome young man, but he had taken many women into his bed in the past, as well. He amended that having met Sephiroth, none of those lovely creatures he had been with in the past would have satisfied the lust he was feeling now, even if he was free to seek out their company. Feeling the aggressive, sensual power that the swordsman was capable of had only cinched Kuja’s desire for him.
Kuja ate the breakfast that Sephiroth had saved for him, and then he went to work on sewing a new outfit. Lunchtime came around, and Sephiroth never showed. “Probably can’t come to grips with his own sexuality,” Kuja mused as he ate his lunch alone. Still, the swordsman had been considerate for him this morning, so Kuja returned the favor and piled a selection of food that he thought Sephy liked onto a plate, then stored it with a pitcher of water and a bottle of wine. He smirked. He had been saving up the extra wine and spirits that appeared with their meals, and there was now quite a collection of booze stored away. At least they could go on a drinking binge if the two of them ever got really bored.
Today, he chose to drink little in the way of alcohol, for he wanted a clear head to sew his outfit and search the compound further for any clues of how to get out of this place. His reasoning was that if there was a way in, then surely there must be a way out. If not out there in that hellish landscape, then perhaps somewhere in here, where he had arrived at in the first place.
By the time he finished his new outfit, the sun was setting and it was time for dinner. He neatly folded the garments he had made and carried them upstairs to his room, then hurried to the dining hall. Kuja leaned against the threshold and blew a sigh when he found the table to be devoid of a certain, silver haired madman. “The man has to eat sometime,” he reasoned in a whisper, “he can’t hide from me forever!” Curious to see if Sephy had already been through here and taken the plate of food he had put aside for him, Kuja went into the storage room before sitting down to eat. Everything remained untouched.
Trying to ignore the concern that was growing within him, the sorcerer sat down and had a cheerless dinner. He broke his rule about drinking moderately and had three glasses of wine, for he was lonely and depressed. He couldn’t get the words that Sephiroth had once spoken out of his mind. Sephiroth had implied that he believed he had “freed” the fellow prisoners from this place by killing them, and he might grow weary of being here and “free” himself. But, that logic was flawed, if what the swordsman said was true. Those bodies that lay rotting outside the wall still held the souls captive. Perhaps they were comatose and unaware of what was happening around them, but they were still trapped. Kuja finished his dinner and slowly made his way out of the dining hall and towards Sephiroth’s room. He had mixed feelings about this. He had the irrational fear that Sephiroth might try to commit suicide, but if he was wrong, and the swordsman was staying away to protect Kuja from a bout of madness that had struck him, he may very well be walking into a battle.
Kuja decided that it was better to be prepared. He formed a physical and magical defensive shell around himself and was prepared to cast if need be. He found that Sephy’s door was open a crack, and he tiptoed to it and pushed lightly, peering in with a sense of dread. Sephiroth was sitting cross-legged on the hardwood floor, with his back to the door. His jacket and shoes lay at the foot of the plain, single bed, and he was naked from the waist up. Kuja stared with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out what the swordsman was doing. His silver hair fell down his back and pooled around him on the floor, and Kuja wished vehemently that he was facing the door, so that he could see what his chest looked like in all its glory. He didn’t dare enter the room, however. Sephiroth’s Masamune was lying sideways across his lap, and from Kuja's vantage point, he appeared to be resting his hands on it. He appeared to be meditating.
Deciding it was best not to disturb him, Kuja carefully pulled the door closed and left. Within the room, Sephiroth opened his bright, green eyes and stared straight ahead.
-To be continued
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