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

Part 13

By Xenobia

       

Sephiroth hadnít been joking when he said that he was going to slow down Kujaís research on possible ways to escape their prison. Kuja felt somewhat smug about it, rather than irritated. He loved to have sex, and it made him feel good that Sephiroth couldnít seem to get enough of him. He did wonder, however, how a man who seemed to be in a constant struggle for his own sanity could afford to let himself get distracted so much.

That was the funny thing about it: when they were making love, Sephiroth seemed so content and...well...sane. There were times when the warrior would get his headaches, and rather than seal himself away from Kuja, he would take him into his arms and make love to him with sharp passion. Kuja began to suspect that somehow, the sexual release had a way of calming Sephirothís madness. It sounded ludicrous, but the evidence was there. All he had to do to calm his tall companion when he began to get anxious was climb into his lap and seduce him.

Over two weeks had passed since the night that Sephiroth had hurt himself trying to control his dark side. Kuja theorized that the more violent side of Sephyís nature was pacified by the sex they shared because there was a certain amount of aggression in it. The sorcerer was very busy indeed, between trying to understand his companion, looking for a way to escape, and making clothing for them both.

He had been quite happy when he finally got around to giving Sephiroth the outfits that he had put together for him. The swordsman seemed dubious about Kujaís ability to make clothing that would not only fit him, but wear well too. When he tried on the first one, he not only looked elegantly delicious in it, but he had smiled at Kuja and thanked him. It wasnít anything spectacularóKuja designed had designed it according to Sephirothís personality, and he had gone by the swordsmanís description of the world he came from and some magazines he had found in the library. It was a white, long sleeved shirt with buttons all up the front, a black blazer, and black dress pants. The shoes had been harder to make, but by the time Kuja got around to giving Sephiroth the outfit, they were ready.

"Itís a shame I donít have some place to take him and show him off," the genome thought to himself as he stared blankly at some notes he had written. The other two outfits he had made for Sephy were similar in design, but he had added some variety to coloring. There was a dark brown dinner jacket with matching pants for one, and a green that was almost black for the other. The man looked great in everything (especially his birthday suit), but Kuja discovered that black complimented his stunning looks the most.

"Keep your mind on your work, you perverted thing," Kuja chastised himself with a frown. He chewed on the end of the pen he was writing with and stared down at his calculations. He sighed. The energy fluctuations in the surrounding atmosphere went off the scale whenever a storm came through, but he could think of no way to harness it for a teleportation spell. In order to try, he would have to be outside of the protective dome. The problem was the way this world they were on drained his powers. Yes, he could stand outside the wall and risk getting hit by lightning, but without his powers, there was no way he could harness any of the energy. Heíd likely only succeed in getting charred, or at least wet and miserable.

Sephiroth was no help on the subject. The swordsman seemed resigned to their fate, and amused by Kujaís continued attempts to discover a way out. "Face it, weíre stuck here," He said one night at dinner, when Kuja was complaining about his lack of progress. "Even if you could go back, how do you know you wonít weaken and die? You told me that Garland had designed you to last only until your friend Zidane reached a certain age. Even if you managed to get back to your world, you might not live long enough to enjoy it. Where would you stay? Like me, youíre probably hated in your home world for all the things that you did."

His ruthless honesty put Kuja in doubt, and though Sephiroth was only being practical, the genome was annoyed with him for pointing out everything that he had conveniently ignored. "Whoever put me here must have fixed whatever Garland did," he reasoned, "otherwise, Iíd be dying by now. My only problem is what I will do when I make it back to Gaia. I could send Zidane a letter...after all, heís the one who tried to get me to come with him when that damned tree was going crazy all around us."

As appealing as the idea was, Kujaís face fell as yet another possible problem sprang to mind. What about Sephy? Would the swordsman go with him, if he found a way to get back to Gaia? If he refused, could Kuja bring himself to leave him behind? "What is it that Iím feeling for him?" the genome whispered.

At first, it was raw, sexual attraction that drew him to Sephiroth. He was so randy that he didnít mind his companion being a little off in the head. Kuja himself wasnít exactly the most emotionally and mentally stable person in the world, so who was he to judge? Upon getting to know Sephy, however, he grew fond of him. There was something reassuring in the warriorís presence, when he wasnít threatening to make him his "pet". There was a look that Sephiroth got in his jade eyes sometimes...a protectiveness that warmed the sorcerer to his toes.

"Am I the first person to ever call you my friend, Sephiroth?" Kuja wondered aloud.

He nearly leaped straight up into the air as his question was answered by a deep voice. "No, but I betrayed the last person to call me their friend. I cut him as he was trying to stop my rampage."

With one hand over his chest, Kuja stood and turned. "Stop doing that! Youíre going to scare me into developing wrinkles, one of these days!"

Sephiroth smiled quietly, but it didnít reach his eyes. "Itís a habit."

"Yes, I see that! You seem to delight in it, as well," Kuja snapped, but he wasnít really angry. He was embarrassed. He didnít like that Sephy had heard him talking to himself, and the manís statement that he had betrayed the only friend he had struck too close to Kujaís own experiences.

"I betrayed the only person that might have given a damn about me, too. I wonder if Zidane ever thinks fondly of me?" He didnít know why he was talking about it. Sephiroth just seemed to understand him, where others never did.

Sephiroth shrugged and pulled a chair up, then straddled it gracefully and rested his arms on the back of it. "Perhaps. Some people are ridiculously forgiving. I know that Zack forgave me, though if he were still alive, Iíd punch his lights out for doing so."

Kuja smiled at that and sat back down. "Zack...wasnít he under your command?"

"Yes. He was there when I found...when I found Mother. I was so angry, and I blamed everyone on the Planet for what had happened to the Cetra. It wasnít until I came here that I discovered that I was never really a descendant. I thought I was, but Jenova was...she was...something else. I...donít know..." He shook his head and closed his eyes, trying to remember.

"How did you find out?" Kuja prompted, recognizing the signs of an impending breakdown. Usually, if he could keep Sephy talking, he could distract that dangerous part of him for a while. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didnít. Other times, a bit of lovemaking did the trick. It had been a while since Seph had gotten so bad that he isolated himself.

"I had...visions upon waking up, here. I donít know how to explain it, but I knew that they werenít just illusions. I saw...I saw my own creation...saw parts of my childhood that I had previously forgotten. I saw the notes that my fóthat Hojo had made. Jenova was connected to the Cetra, but she wasnít one of them. She was...she was an enemy..." He winced and moved his gloved hand to his forehead, massaging the smooth skin with his fingers.

"So whoever put us in here was trying to show us the error of our ways," Kuja said. "I didnít want to say anything, but Iíve had visions, too. And sometimes, when Iím sleeping, I dream of voices. I can never see the faces that go with them, but I hear them talking about me. It seems to be a memory, rather than something thatís going on in the present. I think I heard them when I was taken from the Iifa tree."

Sephiroth nodded, but he didnít stop rubbing his forehead. He stood up abruptly and turned to go.

"Sephiroth..."

"Donít follow me, Kuja. Itís really bad, today."

Kuja sighed and watched his lover go. That darker person inside of Sephiroth was a part of him that was staying for good. At least, thatís what the genome thought. Somehow, they were going to have to learn to coexist with each other. The two halves needed to merge and become a whole.

       

That night, Kuja treated himself to a hot bubble bath. Sephy hadnít shown for dinner, so the sorcerer did his usual thing and put away a plate of food for him. It always got him worried and depressed when his companion didnít show for meals. Sephiroth had become slightly leaner, though not enough to truly frighten Kuja. The genome felt unreasonably guilty. If he werenít here, Sephiroth would have no reason to skip meals. The swordsman only avoided dining with him when he was feeling dangerously distracted.

Kuja sank into the heated pool with a sigh, resting his arms on the edge and leaning his head back. "I really am becoming sentimental," he muttered to the stars overhead.

He had never "needed" anyone before, but he was constantly looking forward to being in Sephirothís arms, every chance he could get. The sex was outstanding, but for the first time in his life, Kuja not only didnít mind holding his lover afterwards, but also craved it. Kujaís eyes opened wide as something horrible occurred to him. "No," he murmured, shaking his damp, silver head back and forth, "Oh no...I canít be. That would really get in the way of things!"

Deny it as he tried, the nagging realization still lurked in his mind and heart. "Brilliant," he sighed. "Of all the times to fall in love. Damn you, Sephy."

He began to scrub his skin angrily, as if he could wash away the feelings he had for the tall swordsman. "I donít have time for love," he whispered, "Lust, yes...but not love!" It wasnít working, of course. Those bothersome, fluffy feelings of adoration and warmth remained, despite his best efforts to be rid of them. He stood up in the water and absently scrubbed between his legs and buttocks. Well, there was nothing for it, now. He would just have to convince Sephiroth to go with him when he found a way out of this place. Heíd knock him out and drag him with, if he had to.

A picture of himself dragging an unconscious Sephiroth by his long, silver hair came to mind, and Kuja laughed. "Gods, Iím thinking like a primitive."

Still, he was more determined than ever to get out of here. He had nightmares all the time about the corpses on the outside of the wall coming to life and murdering him and Sephiroth in their beds. He simply couldnít remain here, if he could help it!

Kuja felt the presence of another person behind him, and he went still. He knew who it was, of course, but his previous thoughts about corpses coming to life made goosebumps spring up all over his skin. "Well, are you going to say anything?" Kuja murmured, without turning around. There was a quiet menace radiating from his unseen visitor, and he closed his eyes. What perfect timing for Sephyís wicked side to come out! Naked and dripping, Kuja never felt more vulnerable. He stood tense and waiting, ready to defend himself with his magic.

Sephiroth didnít respond verbally, at first. Kuja heard cloth rustling, and when he started to turn around, the other manís stern voice gave him pause. "Donít move. I like you that way." Something sharp, cold and hard was laid against the genomeís shoulder bladeóthe Masamune.

Knowing that the sword could lay him open with a flick of Sephirothís wrist, Kuja swore softly and held still. This was it...the moment he had feared. The aggressive side of his companion had taken over, and he was going to have his way with the genome and then kill him. At least, that was what Kuja assumed. Why else would the man be holding him at sword point? It wasnít as if the he had ever refused to have sex with him before. Kuja held his breath as he listened to Sephiroth finish undressing, and he couldnít help but tense up when the taller man stepped into the water behind him.

 

-To be continued


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