Left Out

A/N: Not a month yet! *waves* Hi, all. Glad to be here once again. I have more naughty clonecest for your reading pleasure. But before I begin, the usual thanks:

Kerianya - You're so sweet. You deserve a "Best & Most Patient Fan" award!
schwaerze - Pretty damn big. lol. I dig Loz's dark side too. He's usually written as the soft-centred sook, which I'll admit I'm kinda guilty of doing too, but I try to offset it with some roughness and dominance (more of which you'll see in later chapters)
Blazing Malice - Glad you're liking it! I'm happy to provide more.
Ravenlyn - Exactly. Do what I do and you'll get 'em hooked.
IntHellsing - I take it you like? ;) Hope you like this one too.

For all you Kadaj-fans, he features in this part a bit more than the previous one.


***

Part 7.


Since I’ve been preoccupied admiring Yazoo’s elvish prettiness, it occurs to me that I haven’t heard a peep from Kadaj for ages and I feel kinda bad for ignoring him so I glance his way, expecting him to be silently sulking and/or seething at my rude behaviour. To my surprise, he’s neither of those things. Instead, I discover my younger sibling kneeling on the bed with his hand between his thighs, evidently finding ways to occupy himself during my period of inattentiveness. He’s holding the symbol of his manliness in much the same way as he holds the handle of his katana, his wrist relaxed and grip loose yet just firm enough to keep control. He doesn’t stop even though I’ve caught him in mid-stroke, shamelessly moving his circled fingers along his own shaft and back again, his lips parted in sinful stimulation. The sight of my little brother self-pleasuring is both unexpected and really, really horny. His layered, titanium-hued hair is hanging in front of his face, as always, and from beneath his slanted brows he’s boldly staring into my spellbound eyes, as though getting off on being observed participating in such a normally private act. All of a sudden it dawns on me that as Kadaj is touching himself he’s not looking at Yazoo. He’s looking at me. Has been for a while. My expression must have given away the shock I feel at this because he laughs knowingly.

“Don’t look so amazed. You’re hot, Loz. I thought we already showed you that.”

“Well, yeah, but...” I flounder for words. “I just never expected that you...”

“Could want you too?” he finishes correctly. “Well, I did. We both did, Yazoo and I. If you came to us we would have welcomed you with open arms, brother. But we thought you weren’t interested. You never said anything.” He has stopped what he was doing and is now looking at me inquisitively.

“Why didn’t you ever tell us?”

“I dunno.” I shrug awkwardly. “Just didn’t.”

“Did you think it was wrong?”

“I guess,” I reluctantly admit, glancing away from his piercing gaze.

“You shouldn’t have. We’re not like other people. We’re not even human. They could never understand the complex type of relationship we share. Our bond goes way beyond anything they could ever imagine. It is broader and more intricate than this entire universe.” He’s speaking in a soft, serious tone, sounding far wiser than his nineteen years of age.

“Nothing can separate us. Not even death. We’re bound to be together forever, to play together forever, and what we’re doing now is part of that.” Kadaj reaches out with one hand and turns my bashful face back to him, grazing my cheekbone with his fingertips.

“What you feel, Loz, what we ALL feel...it’s normal for us. I don’t want you to be ashamed about it again. Okay?”

His eyes are filled with compassion and empathy and I nod clumsily, thrown totally off balance once again by the kindness he’s showing me.

“Dude, what I said before...about hating you...” I gulp as my voice starts to crack. “Didn’t mean it.”

“I got that.”

“Sometimes I say stuff that’s not true or...the reverse of what I really think,” I try to explain, needing to make him understand. “Like, what I should've told you earlier was that I...”

“I said I got it, you big dork. Shut up or you’ll wreck the moment.”

I do what I’m told and stop talking. Kadaj smiles affectionately at me and grazes his thumb over my bottom lip, which I’m trying very hard not to let tremble.

“You’re gonna cry again, aren’t you?” he drawls. “I suppose I better do something about that.”

And so he does, leaning over to press his lips firmly onto mine, stopping the tears building up behind my eyes before they have a chance to escape. He inclines his head to get a better angle and the tips of his collar-length locks brush against my neck, making me shudder and appreciate just how sensitive my skin is there. That’s why I can’t stand to have my jacket zip done up all the way like Yazoo’s; it feels too constrictive around my throat, as though I can’t move or breathe. The lightest touch there seems magnified a hundredfold to me and as if he knows this, Kadaj slides his mouth down past my chin, pressing a chain of tiny kisses along the front of my neck, towards my collarbones. This kind of touch I like and I tilt my head back on the pillow, baring my throat for him so he can nibble at it and trace my pulsing arterial vein with his tongue, eliciting a shaky exhaled breath from me.

“Is that nice?” he stops to murmur inquiringly.

“Oh yeah...” I heave a deep sigh of bliss as he licks me there again, right over the lump of my Adam’s apple. “That’s super-nice, lil bro.”

“I do wish you wouldn’t call me that,” he comments with a slight frown.

“Why not?” I remark in innocent perplexity. “I’m older than you and way bigger ‘n you. Don’t that give me the right?”

“Perhaps, but I could still rip you in half where you lie,” he reminds me mildly.

I snort. “Sure, but you won’t.”

An eyebrow lifts up challengingly. “And why won’t I?”

“Because your cells would start spazzing out if I weren’t here. They’d want to follow me. One goes, we all go. Ain’t that the law?”

“Unfortunately, it is,” he concedes. “I suppose I /would/ miss you too much if you returned to the Life Stream.”

“I’d miss you too, Kadaj,” I confide abashedly, dropping my eyes. “Y’know, if something happened to you. Or...you don’t come back from the Reunion.”

“Don’t talk like that,” he scolds me angrily. “I’m coming back. I wouldn’t leave you, okay? Or Yazoo.”

We both glance at our second brother. He’s still sitting there on top of me with his eyes closed, looking all zoned-out. I’m still in him but he’s not moving much anymore, just toying with one nipple and pressing his hardened length against his stomach with the other hand, rubbing the heel of his palm up and down the underside of it, so engrossed in his own enjoyment it doesn’t even seem like he’s listening to us, much less concerned about the impending meeting with Sephiroth.

Turning back to me, Kadaj repeats, “I’m not leaving. You need me. Both of you.”

He gazes at me for a moment, a strange, undefinable look on his face.

“Tell me that’s true, Loz. Tell me you need me.”

“Course it’s true.” I shrug, feeling like I’m saying something very basic and elemental that he ought to already be well aware of, such as that water is wet or fire burns. “Course we need you. Duh.”

“How much? Tell me. Please?” he requests in a quiet voice.

I stare at him in surprise. He’s got the brashest, boldest ego of anyone I know and demands it to be fed on a constant basis yet at odd times – such as this one -- he seems startlingly vulnerable, almost insecure, like it’s all a charade and that deep within he really is an unsure little boy, craving assurance and acceptance from those who matter most in his life. I know he will do battle with big brother Cloud and will kill him if necessary but I also know he wants Cloud to love him and be part of our family. I dunno know if it’s gonna actually happen but I know Kadaj yearns for that more than he’ll admit. He also suspects that Mother wants Sephiroth more than him and I know this bothers him big time. He’s not going to get reassurance from her since Jenova is from another galaxy and doesn’t grasp the concept of human feelings in any form but I can give my Remnant brother what he wants.

I can say what he needs to hear.

“You, me and Yaz...we’re like three pieces of a gun. You’re the trigger, Yazoo is the barrel and I’m the ammo. One piece don’t work without the others,” I attempt to describe with my limited vocabulary. “You’re a part of me, man, like my blood, and I couldn’t go on without you. I wouldn’t want to. Nothin’ would be the same if you were gone.”

Shit, now I’m gettin’ all upset again, thinking of my little brother dying or being killed. Stinging drops of saltwater well over my lower lashes and spill free but I can’t do anything about it.

“If you died, I’d wanna die too, ‘Daj. I’d even shoot myself or cut my own wrists just so we could be together,” I proclaim brokenly. “Swear to the Gods I would. That’s how much I need you, all right?”

Now that I’ve torn my heart out of my chest and handed it to him bleeding on a plate, Kadaj seems satisfied and happy again, thanking me for my honesty by dipping back down to my mouth, covering it with his own. Holding my face in both of his small hands, he whisks away the twin tear-tracks that have slid down my cheeks with his thumbs and proceeds to make me forget about crying. His kiss is far more sensuous and promising than before; his silky pale-blue lips moving beguilingly against my own as though asking me to act in response, an unvoiced incitement for me to do the same in return. With a gruff groan I accept his request, capturing his babyish little pout and sampling its succulence once again, replacing the strong emotion I’m feeling with another one all together. While we trade gradually deepening kisses, I slide my fingers up into Kadaj’s shimmery hair and spread them out, cradling the back of his head with my hand, gently, as though I’m holding a newborn. He may frequently make me madder than a disturbed hornets’ nest but I’ve sworn to protect and defend him to the death and I’ll honour that pact until I draw my last breath. He’s my kid brother and no matter how many years pass or how powerful he gets that fact will never change.

I was eight when he was brought into the enclosure I harmoniously shared with Yazoo and it was then that my calm, orderly world turned upside down and my roaring rages began. I’m not blaming him entirely for my tempestuous nature but he sure managed to provoke it and bring it out of me in a way Yazoo never had. At four years old Kadaj already decided that he was gonna be in charge and started bossing us around, inventing rules that we had to comply with and carrying on like some foot-stamping child-tyrant if we disobeyed them. Even back then I hated and loved him in equal measures. At this point in time, I’m feeling more of the love and as I touch him, one hand in his hair and the other roaming over his left shoulder and upper back, my fingers are gentle and careful, caressing rather than crushing. Unlike earlier, I don’t have to forcibly hold him down here because he’s kissing me freely and willingly, giving me his lips instead of teasing and torturing me with them. One thing that is similar to before is when he darts his wickedly nimble tongue into my mouth and convinces mine to fool around with it. Like I require much convincing. I’ve wanted to do this ever since I could remember, ever since the first time he pouted at me. I can’t recall what it was over – I probably stole one of his ninja action figures or something – but he was so frickin’ adorable and I just wanted to pick him up right off the ground and smother his cute, chibi face in kisses. I didn’t do it, of course. I wouldn’t have dared and he probably would have screamed blue murder at me if I tried.

But everything is different now. We ain’t kids no more and I don’t have to conceal how I feel about him any longer. You know what the best part is? He feels the exact way I do. I can tell that by how enthusiastically he’s making out with me, his tongue resembling a live creature in my mouth, diving and coiling around mine like a slippery eel, taunting me to catch it. Which I can’t but it’s sure fun trying! We stop to breathe and he gives me a mischievous smile, looking just like a silver-haired imp straight out of fairytale land. I smile back and lift up to bite his lower lip, like a puppy nipping at a toy. He gives a naughty little laugh and swoops down to bite me back, not too hard though, and soon our tongues are tangling together again; dancing and duelling, chasing and following, seeking and finding. We’re playing, much the same as we did when we were children only now with more grown-up games. Pulling him closer, I moan into his sugary candy-mouth, wanting to do this for hours and hours. I don’t think I could ever get tired of being kissed by my younger brother. He’s too skilful at it.

Needing oxygen, we break apart at last, both of us panting softly. His lips are glistening and becoming puffy. They’re darker now too, a pretty bluish-violet colour.

“You kiss good, Kadaj,” I shyly tell him, licking my own lips. “Real good.”

Smirking smugly, he boasts, “Of course I do. I’ve been practising for years on Yazoo. You didn’t notice?”

Although he seems not to be paying attention to us, Yazoo apparently is, overhearing this and chuckling quietly.

“It’s true, Loz. Most boys get their first kiss from a girl. I got mine from him,” Yazoo comments, his long-lashed green eyes sparkling at Kadaj. “Do you know how old he was when he did it?”

I shake my head, having no idea.

“All of eleven. Even back then he was very advanced for his age.”

“I still am and you know it, babe,” Kadaj brags, leaning in to claim Yazoo’s mouth for what is probably the millionth time.

Yazoo would have been thirteen when it originally happened, when they crossed the line from being brothers to lovers. I can’t help the pang of envy that I get dwelling on that. I didn’t get my first kiss until I was eighteen and even then it was from a whore Kadaj paid to pop my cherry since I was useless with women and couldn’t get any to sleep with me on my own. She was nice and so was the kiss she gave me but I still wish it was one of them who did it. Kadaj and Yazoo were so young – barely out of childhood – when they started to deepen their already-close bond and explore their burgeoning sexuality and they’ve been doing it ever since then. I’m nearly twenty four and it’s only now that they’re exploring it with me. I kinda feel like I’ve been left out, like I’ve missed out on so much over the past decade but I forgive them because they’re beginning to make up for it. They’ve kissed me now, both of them, and I finally know how sweet they taste. Yazoo has placed his exquisite lips on my flesh and caressed me all over with his soft, searching hands. In return, I’ve caressed him; learnt how smooth his skin is and discovered the inner secrets of his body, how it feels to be inside him.

I can’t overlook Kadaj. He has done a lot of things for me, and /to/ me, as well. He was the one who made the initial move. It was his tongue that slid against mine first. Even if he didn’t let me go any further, Kadaj allowed me to touch him in a place I didn’t think he would and he helped lick up my seed after I came on my belly.

All this in one morning and it still isn’t over yet.

When they stop kissing, Yazoo asks, “Hey, Kadaj? Have you finished yet?”

“Finished what?”

“Bonding with Loz,” Yazoo replies, glancing between Kadaj and me with a small smile, making me realise that he slowed down his pace purposefully on top of me, allowing Kadaj and I to have some one-on-one time without distracting us.

“Because if you are, I’d really like to be included again. There’s only so much fun I can have on my own.”

“Sorry, Yaz,” I mumble regretfully, squeezing his thigh in apology. “I didn’t mean to forget about you.”

“It’s fine,” he sighs dramatically. “I’m used to Kadaj stealing the spotlight all the time. I know you love him more than me.”

“I do not!” I interject.

“So, Yazoo’s the favourite?” Kadaj jumps in, sounding rejected. “After everything I’ve done for you? Thanks, Loz. Thanks very much. It’s nice to know I’m only second best.”

“No! I didn’t say that!” I insist anxiously, getting more and more stressed. “I don’t have a favourite outta you two. You can’t make me choose! That’s not fair! I - I can’t...”

I screech to a halt.

“Hey. Heeey, waitta minute!” I narrow my eyes at both of them. “You’re messin’ with me, aren’t you?”

They look at each other and burst out laughing.

Clenching my jaw, I mutter, “Hate you guys.”

“Aw, Lozzie. We’re sorry,” Kadaj coos, leaning down to plant a smooch on my forehead, which I’ve currently got scrinched into an annoyed scowl. “We only do it because your reactions are so hilarious.”

“Great. I’m just a gigantic joke to you?”

“No, but you /are/ gigantic. Just ask Yazoo. He’s the one sitting on that massive tent pole.” Kadaj grins saucily. “How’s your butt, Yaz? Sore yet?”

Yazoo snickers and covers his mouth, like he knows he shouldn’t laugh but can’t help it.

I glower vehemently at him. “You’re doing it again.”

“Our apologies,” Yazoo offers, but he’s still smiling. “We’ll stop now.”

“Like hell you will,” I huff.

“We will. Really,” Kadaj adds, trying to keep his face straight. He turns to Yazoo, making an encouraging gesture with his head. “Show him how sorry we are, Yazoo. Make it up to him.”

“Gladly,” Yazoo purrs.

***


A/N: Sorry nothing much happens smut-wise in this chapter but I wanted Loz and Kadaj to have some interaction since this fic was fast becoming all about Yazoo! Don't get me wrong: I love our long-haired clone as much as the next person but I'm trying to give all the boys equal page-time. I'm probably failing with that though. *facepalm*

And for goodness sakes, please don't give me any more comments about where I ended the chapter and how it left you hanging! You know how I write and so you should be used to it by now. Actual feedback on the content of the chapter would be great. Am I doing a good job portraying their brotherly bond? Are you feeling the love between them? Are you enjoying the story and how it's developing? That kind of stuff would be nice to know. Thank you. :)