Left Out

A/N: Hi guys! All your supportive comments have been awesome and thank you for letting me know that I'm doing the guys justice and keeping them in character as much as possible. I'd like to send hugs to the following people for their cool feedback - Kerianya, x (way better than a trip to the grocery store!), ZeldaFitz, juri (oh yeah, Yazoo WILL get to comfort his Loz, don't worry lol), fyrbyrd, norr, Anon, oztan, Raiast (yay, I'm not a freak!) and lolita. While some of you may not be Loz's biggest fans it's great that you're reading this and anyway, there's gonna be plenty of Kadaj and Yazoo to keep everyone happy. Think about it, if you were Loz you'd get to be around those two hotties every day so hey, being a big emotional lunkhead ain't such a bad thing.

Enjoy the second part and I'm off to read some other stories in this wonderful fandom! :)


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Part two.


“Careful what you wish for, brother.”

After Kadaj says that I swallow nervously. There’s a dangerous, seductive gleam in his gaze and he only gets that gleam when he’s going to hurt someone or screw them. Yazoo is staring at me in precisely the same way and to have two pairs of elongated reptilian pupils focused entirely on me is more than slightly scary. I know I have the same eyes as them; it’s just that I only usually get afforded cursory glances every now and again, Kadaj’s impatient and Yazoo’s impassive. They’ve never really looked at me, not like this, as if I’m something intriguing they want to toy with and then eventually eat.

Kadaj whispers something to Yazoo and my longer-haired brother begins climbing across me to the other side of the bed, awarding me a sly little smile when his knee brushes over my groin, discovering my still-hardened maleness. It takes all my willpower not to moan at the agony that casual touch causes me. I’m sure he knows it too. As Yazoo is draping himself next to my right, I watch him cautiously, just in case he attempts to strangle me again. Thankfully, he doesn’t, just gives that insanely disturbing chuckle, the way he does anytime he’s enjoying himself far too much. My edgy watchfulness is diverted when Kadaj shifts closer to me on my left, his thigh pressing against mine under the sheet. He’s got a secretive look about him, like he’s planning something evil. I don’t know who I’m more suspicious of, Yazoo or him. They’re both as bad as each other when they want to be.

“Why so wary?” Kadaj enquires, trying to seem all innocent and failing at it. “Don’t you trust us?”

“No freaking way,” I declare, flinching when he runs his finger down the centre of my chest, as if I expect to get cut by it.

“Well, we’re going to have to change that, aren’t we?” he says sweetly just before spreading his hand and giving me a rough shove backwards. I slam onto the bed, my eyes widening as Kadaj looms over me like a bird of prey, silver mane dangling down around his face. The point of his tongue emerges, swiping slowly over his full top lip, making it glimmer alluringly. I’m certain he’s doing it to make me look at his mouth. And dammit, it’s working. Not that it’s the first time I’ve looked but now I can’t see anything else. It’s small and succulent, appearing faintly blue in the dimness of our underground den.

I need to have it. To taste it. Right now.

As though reading my mind, he leans down but doesn’t complete his descent, stopping about half an inch from my lips. His hair tickles me. I can feel the warmth of his breath. I lift my chin, seeking his mouth. He pulls back, just out of reach. He playfully nuzzles the tip of my nose with his and when I try to capture his lips a second time he frustratingly moves away again. This has never happened to me before so it takes me a while to figure out what he’s doing. He’s teasing me. On purpose!

“Kadaj,” I almost whine. “Don’t.”

He pouts at me. “Aw, aren’t you having fun?”

Out of the corner of my eye I see Yazoo smiling, proving that HE definitely is, but I ignore him.

“You’re being mean,” I state in a sullen tone. I don’t care if Kadaj is mean to other people; I just don’t like it when he does it to me.

“So, what do you want, huh?” he provokes, feeding off my aggravation as usual. “You want me to kiss you? Is that it?”

Nearly ready to try throttling him again, I spit back, “What do you think?”

“I don’t know,” he rebounds, glancing at our other brother. “What do you think, Yazoo?”

Yazoo takes the question seriously, a lock of his hair slithering over one bare shoulder as he ponderingly tilts his head. “I think...he wants it very much.”

“Then say it, Loz,” Kadaj orders silkily, the timbre of his voice promising it’ll be worth it. “Say please and I will.”

I snarl a bit but do as he commands, like always. “Please! Just kiss me, okay?”

Because I said the words, even in such an irritated way, he grins triumphantly like he’s beaten me but holds true to the bargain, lowering his face in my direction once more. The instant he gets close enough I grab him by the hair, holding his head down so he can’t pull away again. I must be hurting him but I think he likes that because he gives a purring sound before touching my lips with his. The lightness of the contact is not nearly enough and I yank him towards me, crushing his taunting mouth with mine, hard enough to bruise. I think he likes that too. He’s gone strangely submissive and doesn’t resist when I force my tongue into him, actually opening up wider for me and accepting my brutality. His mouth tastes sweet, like honey, which is ironic considering the scathing language that comes out of it. I know it’s not gonna last but I’m using this opportunity to dominate Kadaj while I can, pulling his hair as I savagely kiss him, punishing the baby-faced bastard for every time he’s ridiculed me or made jokes at my expense. He deserves this one hundred percent and so I rape his mouth with mine, owning it, possessing it, taking from him and not giving anything back.

I try to stay mad at him but he starts returning my fierce thrusts with darting ones of his own and this somehow gets to me and lessens my boiling anger. I’m not claiming to be an expert or anything but he’s a damn fine kisser, using his quick tongue to tempt and tease, taking my mind off why I got mad in the first place. My temperature reduces even further when his gloveless hands commence gliding up my arms. They’re soft, like a child’s, the black leather protecting his palm and preventing any calluses from forming against the handle of his twin-bladed sword. He strokes me from elbow to shoulder, fingers rippling over the contours of my biceps which happen to be three times the size of his, as if he’s savouring the solidness of them and the texture of my skin. He is astoundingly gentle with me, almost tender, and that’s something I don’t get shown often. Or to be more accurate, not at all. Normally, the only times he deliberately touches me in bed is to prod me in the ribs or give me a kick when I’m snoring. He's never touched me like this, his hands exploring and caressing, treating me like a lover instead of someone to annoy or boss around, and his uncharacteristic demeanour takes me by sheer surprise.

Him being nice...I’m so not used to that.

I’m still kissing him but the act is not injected with such hateful spite as it was, my motions starting to become slower and less selfish, my tongue sliding into his mouth rather than stabbing at it. He’s half lying across me, his chest pressed to mine, and with the unresisting co-operativeness he’s displaying I take a chance that it’s safe to let go of his hair now.

My instinct is right and he doesn’t budge or try to get away; just keeps giving me those hot little kisses, still investigating my muscles. I reach under his arms so I can access his sides, running my palms along them until I arrive at his waist, spanning it with both hands and marvelling at how trim my brother is. He’s only nineteen so he might fill out more over the next couple of years but I privately hope he doesn’t. I don’t want him to end up pumped and brawny like me. I like him being lean. I sweep my hands up again, moving inward, over the warm smoothness of his back. I graze the points of his shoulder blades and then head down once more, following the indented line of his vertebrae beneath the rumpled sheet where it leads straight to his tailbone and the enticing crevasse that begins there. I spread my fingers out and cup his taut rump which always looks so delectable in that leather costume. Riding behind Kadaj as he’s leaning forward on his motorcycle is a highly distracting place to be for that very reason. It’s amazing that I haven’t crashed my bike into a tree for lack of concentrating. I also dig the straps and buckles he has around each of his thighs. Every time I look at those I want to undo them and slide my hands up the knee-high splits in his outfit. Considering how provocative his and Yazoo’s tight-fitting suits are, it’s no wonder I’m jerking off in the shower over both of them on a regular basis.

Finally able to feel for myself how toned Kadaj’s glutes are I squeeze them, digging my fingertips aggressively into the firm flesh, hoping to leave a few nail-marks behind. Even this doesn’t make him pull away from me and I decide to test my luck, hesitantly starting to trace the tempting valley of his rear. When no protests are made or punches thrown my way, I grow bolder, reaching further down, towards the back of his thighs. I don't know who ended it first but we've stopped kissing, our mouths just a few millimetres apart and our breaths ghosting across each other's lips. I have my eyes closed in suspense and I'm sure he does too. We're both very still and both very aware of what I'm doing; him probably wondering how far I'm gonna go and me wondering when he's gonna stop me. Not yet, apparently, and so I carry on, brazenly invading that valley, trespassing into its heated depths to discover what secrets lay there. I don’t know if it’s my imagination or what but it seems like his thighs widen a fraction, making it easier for my questing fingertips to locate what they’re looking for. And I find it. The entrance to his body is tiny and irresistibly tight and I can’t believe he’s letting me touch him there. I suddenly have this overpowering urge to push into it just to see how much I can stretch him open and so I take my fingers away, intending to spit into them and give it a try but Kadaj clasps my wrist, putting a halt to that impulsive idea.

“I think you’ve gone far enough,” he remarks, gazing down at me with a humoured expression. “I didn’t know you had such a thing for me, Loz. Or my ass.”

“I do NOT have a thing for your ass!” Realising how lame and completely untrue that sounded, I blush and snap, “Shut up!”

He gives a merciless laugh, like the demon I know him to be. “Look at you, all hot and bothered. You know, dear brother of mine, you’re really sexy when you’re angry.”

Generally, such a goading statement like that would result in me becoming even more cross and irritable but he jabs his stiffness into my thigh as proof, a corner of his mouth turning up smugly, and I can only blink at him in astonishment.

I created THAT? Surely not. Nobody ever gets wood over me. He’s probably still hard from what he did to Yazoo earlier. Yeah, I decide with a twinge of resigned disappointment. That’d be it.

Reinforcing my belief that Kadaj is much more interested in Yazoo than me, my little brother rolls aside and announces, “He’s all yours, Yazoo. You can play with him now.”

At the permission, Yazoo smiles mischievously, his eyes dropping to my topless torso.


***

To be continued...