Mind Games

(A/N: Following the lead of the previous installment, this contains angst. Final chapter. Again, many thanks to toxictattoo for all the help and hand-holding he has provided.)


End Game (part 2 of 2)

The wind tore past Loz’s face as he raced after Cloud. Quick eye-contact from Yazoo, hardly needed, translated his command as easily as if he had whispered it in Loz’s ear instead of sending it across the distance between roaring bikes at high speed: Separate Cloud from Kadaj. Give their brother time to get free with Mother.

Yazoo had been so intense lately. Loz didn’t know what his problem was. It made him itchy, like wearing someone else’s leather or riding an unfamiliar bike.

Yazoo’s concentration on this Cloud kid was fucking intense. As if he had a grudge or something.

Cloud swung his bike over to slam into Loz, sending the bike scraping against the concrete barrier. Loz’s thoughts fell away in the joy of the fight. Catching his balance with only the slightest lean and a subtle grip of his legs, he rode the bike like a well-trained stallion, the power between his legs responding to his lightest touch. He roared up along Cloud’s left side with his left arm held up to show off Dual Hound. It was his prize and joy, and he finally had a worthy opponent to use it on.

He caught Cloud’s eye with a shit-eating grin before shoving up off the pedals to fly in the air, confident his bike would be there to catch him when he came down.

The reverberation recoiled up his arm with a satisfying jolt as he slammed down against Cloud’s bike, sending the bike in a 360 degree spin. It kept Cloud from following Kadaj and, even better than that, it amused Loz. He smiled as he landed back in his saddle. The last time he’d felt this good had been fighting that black-haired chick, just a warm-up for the intense guy they were fighting now. The kid was so uptight, probably hadn’t gotten laid in months.

Cloud straightened out his bike and continued the mad dash for the tunnel to catch up with Kadaj. Like that was gonna happen. Loz snorted then bent back over the handlebars.

The rush of wind lessened when they entered the tunnel and the roar of the engines intensified. The sound was music to Loz’s ears, a rumbling symphony of sheer power that made his blood sing. Yazoo was strangely subdued, staying back and letting Loz lead. Loz shrugged. Okay by him. It gave him more room to play.

He rode the ceiling with gravity-defying ease, flipping from his bike to land on Cloud’s handlebars, quick jabs to a face that annoyed him just by its sheer presence, his punches fueled by an addicting jolt of adrenaline that had never flowed higher.

As he pushed off to land back on his own bike, Yazoo finally stepped up, crossing swords with Cloud in a flash of sparks and a dance of roaring metal. The two held their weapons together as if in an embrace, bikes circling in a dizzying spin.

Loz watched with approval.

He spotted it when it happened. Yazoo’s opening. The slight dip of Cloud’s sword where Yazoo could have made the killing blow. He didn’t.

Loz frowned but didn’t have time, or the inclination, to dwell on Yazoo’s hesitance; not in the midst of the wildness and reckless abandon that fueled him. Yazoo must be in the mood to play. His frown turned into a smile. He could get behind that.

Confident Yazoo was back in the swing of things, Loz drove Dual Hound into the pavement, slowing the bike’s forward progress and building momentum for a sweeping arc, legs gripping the metal and releasing at just the right moment to send it barreling in Cloud’s path.

Yazoo, still face to face with Cloud, spread his arms wide and lowered his head to slide under the flying metal. Cloud remained fixed on Yazoo as he used brute force to slice his way through the bike.

It was a hell of a sword, Loz had to admit.

He grimaced. His bike was fucked, though. Just one more thing to add to his list of reasons to hate the little pissant.

Yazoo dropped back again, firing a few shots from behind them but otherwise keeping a reserved presence. Loz stepped up to run the show. A laugh rumbled from his chest, deep and low, at the chance to stretch his muscles and do what he did best.

Pushing off with his legs, from wall to ceiling to Cloud’s bike, the squeal of tires and smell of burning rubber surged through his senses and made him horny as hell. There was something about the freedom to unleash destruction that never failed to get him off. He planned on a good long fuck after this was done. Booze, women… maybe Yazoo, though he’d been distant lately.

Whoever was handy. Not that it would be hard to find. There was always someone looking to take a walk on the wild side. They just had no idea they were gambling with their lives.

He jerked his attention off his dick and back to the fight. The brat was starting to push him back. That pissed Loz off and he buckled down to get some serious ass-kicking done.

Where the fuck was Yazoo? He should be tighter, he wasn’t pulling his weight. Loz put out a last-ditch effort, grin fading with disbelief that he was losing. And Yazoo remained damn near non-existent in the fight. Loz burned to know what the hell his problem was. His brother had never been so off in a fight before.

Cloud gave one last push and Loz scrambled for balance, losing the upper hand with a string of swearwords as Cloud took off towards the end of the tunnel, aiming for the light of the open road.

Yazoo revved his bike to pull up underneath just in time for Loz to land behind him on the seat. At least his brother wasn’t totally out of the game. But they’d have to haul ass to catch back up. He gripped his arms around Yazoo’s waist as he gunned the engine for the exit, leaving Velvet Nightmare to clatter to the ground in a pile of twisted metal.

As they roared out into the fresh air, they were met with a helicopter rising from the pavement and those two annoying Turks smirking through the windows. The world exploded before Loz's eyes.


~~~


He pried his eyes open to blink groggily at a large chunk of concrete resting inches from his head. The cracked pavement underneath him dug into his body, and dust coated his hair and clothes. So close to death, so close to the end of an exhilarating life of want, take, have. It would have been a fucked-up way to die if he or Yazoo had been crushed by debris from an explosion set off by a ragged-ass Turk with infuriating red hair.

Yazoo.

He sat up in a rush and his eyes swam in his head, sending him crashing back down to the pavement with a grunt. Trying again, slower this time, he managed to get his arms underneath him, and he shook off his double-vision to search for his brother amid the rubble.

His worry eased, slightly, when he heard a sharp intake of breath from the other side of the large block of concrete. Loz started the maddeningly long trip to the other side, grasping forward with his arm to pull his body behind him, one slow pull after another.

Small bits of concrete fell from his hair with every shift of his head, and his broken ribs ground together. He made his way through ramshackle piles of rubble that had landed wherever gravity had asserted its grasp. No rhyme or reason, just destruction. Destruction was only fun when he was on the other side.

Another swing of his arm, another pull forward of his body, until he finally rounded the pile, close enough to grasp Yazoo’s arm.

He was breathing.

But he wasn’t moving.

Laid out in the midst of a pile of debris, hair sprawled out over the torn landscape, he looked like a rag doll, his normal aura of power lost in the aftermath of the explosion. Loz made it to an upright position beside Yazoo and cradled him in his arms, chest tight with worry. True fear, the first time ever, raced through his body.

“Yazoo.” His voice was hardly a whisper and he could feel tears spilling from his eyes. His brother was not going to fucking die. He wasn’t. He wouldn’t let it happen. Fingers dug into Yazoo’s arms, leaving additional bruises to the damage already done, and he had to force himself to loosen his grip.

Yazoo’s eyes fluttered open, his long eyelashes framing eyes that were painted blood red from dust.

“Loz?”

The voice was so small. It hurt to see the normally proud Yazoo reduced to … this. Because of him. That blond.

Now it was personal.

Loz tightened his hold on Yazoo, adjusting him so that he didn’t rest too heavily against his ribs, but still making sure he was as close as he could possibly get, touching him, feeling him, running his hand over his hair.

His hand slipped down to wipe a streak of blood off of Yazoo’s cheek.

“Yeah. I’m here.”

Yazoo relaxed against him and they lay in silence, both taking shallow breaths in deference to their wounds. Pain ran down Loz’s leg; his leather was ripped. The bikes were fucked. Kadaj was fuck-knows-where.

But they were alive.

Trying to be as careful as possible, but unable to stop, he laid Yazoo back on the ground, devouring his mouth, desperately reassuring himself that Yazoo was here, that life went on.

Yazoo kept his eyes open, not objecting yet not responding either. Loz bit down hard on Yazoo’s bottom lip. Anything to get a response, to wipe that blank look from his eyes. They were alive, dammit. He wanted to bury himself in Yazoo’s body just to prove it.

Yazoo pulled back and rolled slightly to the side.

Loz watched, baffled. He sat up gingerly and raised his hand to shove through his hair, only to drop it immediately when pain lanced his chest.

Yazoo was making no goddamn sense.

He turned to face him, chest growing tighter at the sight of Yazoo curled up amid the rubble, laying on his side with no response.

“Don’t worry, brother. We’ll get that asshole. No one hurts you.” He ran his hand over Yazoo’s shoulder with a light touch he reserved only for his brothers. “Nobody hurts you.”

Yazoo finally rolled back to look at him, eyes dimmed, without the fire usually present at the specter of revenge. Even hurt, he should be railing against the man who did it to him, searching for a weapon to start the hunt.

Instead, he looked as if his world had just been torn out from underneath him. It made no sense. Why wouldn’t he-

It finally hit, like a physical punch to the gut.

“You’ve been with him.” It wasn’t a question. Loz knew the answer already.

And Yazoo didn’t have to ask who. They both knew.

“You fucked him.”

“Yes.” Yazoo finally moved to sit up, grasping at his side as he slowly made the transition.

Loz lay back flat on the ground, watching Yazoo, but not sitting up yet. The emotional shock slammed him hard. Jealousy. Dark. Green. And gnawing at his soul.

“Stay down.” It came out gruffer than he intended, but this was fucked.

Yazoo lost the haunted look as determination set in. “I can’t.” His teeth were gritted as he moved to stand.

Loz wanted to pull him back down, pin him to the ground and force him to let their healing powers work. Instead, Yazoo looked ready to bolt in a fevered rush to do… what?

Head still hurting from the explosion, pain magnified by Yazoo’s confusing reaction, Loz was floundering in uncharted territory. Yazoo was usually so logical. He never went off half-cocked. He wasn’t acting right. Just because he fucked the…

Loz slowly pushed himself up and forced Yazoo to meet his eyes by sheer will of force.

“You care about hi--” Loz couldn’t even ask the question. It was too mind-blowing. Too unbelievable. Fucking goddamn spiky-haired punk.

Yazoo darted his eyes back to the tunnel, the end caved in under a pile of rubble, bikes flattened by the debris.

He didn’t answer.

Loz ran the back of his hand over his forehead, smearing dirt further, he was sure. They were covered in it. Yazoo still looked beautiful, though. He could see why Cloud would do it. Why would Yazoo though? The thought baffled him. He was just a pain-in-the-ass blond. Yazoo could have anyone.

Instead he went for a broken-down has-been. A broken-down has-been that hurt him. And more than just physically.

It pissed Loz off and he was ready to snap legs in two, make that Cloud kid scream in pain, pull his guts out through his throat. He should’ve killed him in the inn.

“We’ll find him. We’ll make him pay.”

Yazoo shook his head a little too hard, and grasped at his side again. “No. Not pay.” He finally met Loz’s eyes, looking more like the old Yazoo. The Yazoo that was in control. The Yazoo with a plan.

“He comes with us. Give me your gun.”

“Yazoo…” Loz’s voice trailed off. What was he supposed to say? No, you can’t have him? He usually took his cue from his brother easily, but this was stretching the limits, putting a wedge between them that felt disconcerting. Wrong.

“Loz.” Yazoo’s voice lowered into a tone Loz had never heard before. “I want him.”

Loz took in the determined look. What Yazoo wanted, Yazoo got. Loz could never turn down his brother. Not even for… this. He did his best to keep the automatic sneer from his face. This was fucked-up. But he’d do it. For his brother.

He handed over his gun, butt-first, and finally nodded.

Yazoo snagged the gun and was already on his way to hunt down Cloud before Loz had even pulled himself up off the ground. The bond between brothers led them easily in Kadaj’s direction, and despite the teeth-clenching pain, despite the deepening bruises, they soon stood at the base of a tall building, the rooftop so close yet a million miles away in their shape.

Yazoo didn’t even slow down, just started up the side, the muscle jumping in his cheek with every stretch. Loz scrambled behind doing his best to keep up as his muscles screamed from the exertion.

They finally made it over the edge, pulling themselves onto the rooftop, to see Kadaj stumbling into Cloud’s arms.

And a smile crossing Kadaj’s face.

As Loz watched, still trying to catch up with the rapid events, events moving too fast and too screwed-up, he knew he could grab on to one thought with certainty. There was a sense of peace on Kadaj’s face.

The peace spread through his own body, and he could feel the same sensation covering Yazoo. It was as if the soothing hand of Mother touched their foreheads and pushed back their hair, fingers drawing down through the strands.

They watched quietly from afar as Kadaj looked up into Cloud’s face, large drops of rain landing on a dust-strewn face. “Brother.” The soft word wafted across the rooftop on a gust of light wind left-over from the black storm clouds that had ringed the building.

Kadaj lifted his hand up in the air to let the water coat it, and his body, just a mere shell, no longer needed, dissolved back into the Lifestream. Loz could feel a little piece of him go with, as if there was a hole left inside him. A tugging as if his body wanted to follow.

The plan just changed. With their brother leaving them, they had to follow.

Loz shifted slightly to watch Yazoo, who in turn was watching Cloud. Feelings played over Yazoo’s face, foreign expressions to Loz, unsettling in their newness. There wasn’t his usual cold calculation. There was no joy. Just a sense of… being lost.

Slowly the look on Yazoo’s face smoothed out and he straightened, sureness in his movements now, purpose in his stance. And Loz could tell…

Cloud was coming with them.

Loz’s shoulders slumped. He’d help. Even if it meant spending an eternity in the Lifestream with the son of a bitch.

Cloud held his head up to the gentle rain, his eyes closed as the sun shone down through the clouds. The aura of peace still hung in the air.

*bam*

The bullet tore through Cloud’s left shoulder.

Loz had felt Yazoo’s gun raise before he saw it. The shot was good, but not perfect. He should have been able to take Cloud down in one shot, in one easy close-range shot. There was no excuse for it, no reason other than… the brat had Yazoo whipped. Loz wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. The fight in the tunnel started to make sense.

The blaze from the barrel dissipated as Cloud dropped to his knees, head lowered.

Yazoo limped closer.

"We all go together…” Yazoo’s expression was grim as the last of his energy started to fail, and Loz’s borrowed gun fell to the ground.

Cloud remained crouched on the ground, hand draped over his bent knee and face tight with concentration, but he remained silent, not responding to Yazoo’s declaration. The air of frustration emanating off of Yazoo was making Loz uncomfortable. It was so intense. Too intense.

Yazoo kept waiting, but why or for what, Loz wasn’t sure. The prick wasn’t going to answer. Just kill him. They’d go together. What more did he need?

Yazoo’s shoulders finally dropped in resignation to the lack of an answer, and he nodded at Loz. It was time.

Materia glowed in Yazoo's left arm and Loz's right as they stood back to back. The warmth of Yazoo’s body behind him gave him comfort as he resigned himself to what was going to happen. It would be a hell of an explosion, one designed to send them all to the Lifestream. Loz still wasn’t sure what would happen after. He only knew he could feel his brother pulling at them to follow.

Both brothers put their arms out, and the familiar feel of fighting in tandem, of finally having the same goal, kicked back into gear and calmed Loz’s unsettled mind.

Circles of color, soft blues, hazy purples, shades of green that matched the color of their eyes, lit the rooftop as they stood on unsteady feet to make the final blow.

Cloud turned, taking in Loz and Yazoo’s stances, then finally, finally, answered.

“I can’t go.”

At the soft response, Yazoo’s arm slowly dropped to his side.

“You want to stay here? With them?” Confusion warred with hurt on Yazoo’s face, unable to comprehend.

He leaned forward, arm guarding his stomach as if protecting himself emotionally as well as physically, his right shoulder dropping as he met Cloud’s eyes through his bangs. “What do they do to you but demand more?”

Cloud’s face dimmed, and Yazoo jumped on his opening. His voice lowered to that persuasive tone that he usually saved just for Loz when he wanted something.

“I don’t ask for anything you can’t give.”

The sword dipped lower in Cloud’s hand.

“It will be just you and me. No one else to pull at you. To use you.”

“They need me.” Cloud jerked his head up with a look of self-righteousness that made Loz want to smack it right off his face.

Yazoo gritted his teeth, biting down hard as if holding back more he wanted to say. “I need you.”

Loz couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Yazoo had them, dammit. They were his brothers, always there for him. Yazoo didn’t need Cloud. He couldn’t need the little fucker that tore their world apart.

The look on Yazoo’s face said different.

Cloud stood unmoving, sword still down, and Yazoo could have taken him out at any moment. He didn’t. Just waited in silence for his answer.

Cloud finally shook his head, the smallest movement.

Yazoo’s knees buckled, and Cloud took an automatic step forward, before catching himself and stepping back.

Loz watched the interplay between Yazoo and Cloud. The things said. The things not said.

Fuck if it wasn’t love.

He snarled in frustration, a growl like an animal. He took two quick steps forward…

Loz saw the leap before he could even get his hand up. Cloud’s sword raised high over his head as he leaped into the air. Cloud came down on top of them, and actions slowed, as if they were moving through water.

Anger was on Cloud’s face, but there was frustration too. A confused look that matched Yazoo’s for intensity.

The final look between Yazoo and Cloud was the last thing he saw before they joined their brother.


~~~


Cloud left the pool, left his friends behind, and slipped out of the back of the church and onto his bike. He sat in silence, not sure where he was going but knowing he needed to be alone.

Finally making up his mind, he drove slowly to the bluff. The wind dried his clothes, leaving his body to shiver lightly from the dampness, but he hardly noticed.

He parked the bike a half-mile before the bluff, not wanting the rumble of the motor to disrupt the peace and silence. Walking over the hard-packed dirt, his boots scuffed against the ground, and he breathed in air that suffocated with its stillness.

The peace his refuge usually afforded him was gone. Replaced only by memories.

He shoved himself to his feet and left in frustration to throw himself back on his bike. A trip too fast, too reckless, flying over rocks that could upset the bike with just one mis-placed move. He screamed into town and raced past pedestrians, sending them fleeing back to the safety of the sidewalk.

His subconscious mind took him on auto-pilot through the twists and turns of Edge until he found himself back in front of the inn. It has only been yesterday morning that he had been here last. He paid for a night, knowing what he was doing was wrong but unable to stop himself.

Letting himself in through the familiar door, his steps took him slowly around the room. He trailed his fingers over the top of the dresser. Scanned his eyes over the wooden floor. Remembered the cracks in the wall.

Finally giving in, he allowed himself to spread out on the bed and run his hand over the sheets, seeing in his mind’s eye silver hair splayed out over the white background.

He laid back on the bed, eyes closed, remembering the times. The harsh fucks, the soft ones.

The first time he took control of Yazoo. A war of wills he was determined not to lose. He'd won more than just a good fuck that night. He'd won his life back.

He slipped out of his clothes and into the bed - too cold, too large, too empty.

He remembered the first time he had let Yazoo stay with him on the bluff. A quiet moment unlike any they’d had before. Soft sex and softer words.

His hand on his cock was a pale imitation of Yazoo’s. A poor substitute for his warm mouth and the way the bangs fell over his eyes as he looked up from between Cloud’s legs, pulling his mouth up to the top to kiss the tip with a sly smile.

And the last time. Just two days ago. A lifetime ago.

A hard clash of bodies as if they couldn’t get any closer. Skin covered in a sheen of sweat, bodies aching for a release they only found with each other.

A familiar feeling swelled in his stomach, the anticipation of release, as thoughts sent him into a rush to complete an act that he’d never wanted to do in the first place. The memories were eating away at his soul as they also fueled his body.

Flashes of skin stood clear in his mind. The ghost sensation of Yazoo’s hands on his chest. The picture of Yazoo crouching over him, taking him in with a sly smile that never failed to turn Cloud on by its sheer wantonness.

His hand moved faster and he pulled on his cock with harder strokes, pushing himself to the limit of his control. He dug his heels into the bed as he thrust his hips up into his hand.

The warm caresses, the soft exhalations of his name from Yazoo’s lips, the comfortable silence after as Yazoo relaxed in his arms. It hadn’t been just fucking. It had been making love.

Cloud came with a silent gasp, bucking up into his hand and letting his release coat his stomach.

His hand slowed, his eyes fell shut, and he used the sheet to clean the come from his body with slow strokes. Rolling onto his side, he slipped his hands around a pillow, the last scene still playing in his mind.

A goodbye he didn’t even know he was saying.



~*~*~



Epilogue:

He found himself back at the bluff, picking at a scab that wouldn’t heal. It had been months since the day on the rooftop, but he still came here often. This had been the turning point, the place where everything had changed between them.
It had been too long. He needed to let go. He couldn’t let go…

and the world flashed white.

Cloud stumbled to catch his feet, though there was no ground underneath him. A disconcerting sea of white. He’d been here before. A soft hand rested on his upper arm, and relief, so long searched for but never found, spread over his body. He waited for Aeris’ voice.

“Hey.”

Not Aeris.

A sense of calm washed over him at the simple word, and he turned to face Yazoo, a sharp exclamation mark of black in stark contrast to the white around him. Yazoo raised his hand slowly and cupped his jaw. Cloud didn’t dare move as Yazoo slid his thumb over Cloud’s bottom lip, as if even the simple act of moving would shatter the moment.

He closed his eyes to concentrate on the feeling, to soak in every caress. His body shivered even as his skin warmed. The soft touch over his skin was like a salve to a wound that had never healed. But he needed to see Yazoo. He opened his eyes to make sure he was still there, still in front of him. To know he was alright.

Cloud took his time as he drank in his fill. Yazoo looked… free. Free from the search for Mother. Free from the wildness. There was peace in his every movement. Cloud raised his hand, burning with the need to touch, but Yazoo stepped back.

Yazoo never took his hand from Cloud’s face though, instead moving it to slide over his cheek. “Not yet.” One last familiar sly smile from Yazoo, one last run of hands over his skin, before…

the world snapped white again.

Soft words drifted up from the void, “We will meet again.”


~*~*~

End


(A/N: It's been a long ride between the two boys, and I hope you were provided with some entertainment from their travels. It felt impossible to ignore canon with these two, but hopefully it reached a satisfying conclusion. Feedback or constructive critism is adored. Even if it's just to say, 'I can't believe you killed him'. I'll understand and it may give me a better idea of how to plot things in the future. Thank you so much for following along.)