Left Out

A/N: Thank you, thank you, THANK you for all your great comments. They were just what I needed to hear! See, wasn't that hard, now was it? ;)

Kuragari: Thanks for your feedback! Glad I'm keeping them IC. Yeah, Loz has a lot of insecurities - that he's not as smart or good-looking as the other two and when you've lived with those doubts your whole life it's hard to let go of, even when people tell you otherwise. I would be insecure too if Yazoo and Kadaj were MY brothers. I'd definitely feel not pretty enough! I know I write mostly in my own words but I do try to have bits where it sounds like Loz's actual thoughts. I couldn't write the whole thing in his words though, as his descriptive skills would be somewhat lacking, to say the least. Sorry, Loz. I love you to bits man, but good with the English, you ain't! *pats him* It's okay, honey. You got muscles.

schwaerze: Nice long review from you! Thank you for taking the time to write it again too. I hope I have made my Kadaj a complex, interesting character. That's what I was aiming for. I didn't want him to be all bad but not all good either! I think why so many people write him as the tryant/little boy is because of his demise in the film; how when he's in Cloud's arms he stops being the psycho freak and reveals a very young, very innocent and emotional side of himself that makes me melt into a puddle every damn time I see it. Even his face changes, becomes softer and younger. When he calls Cloud "Brother" you know all he really wanted was for Cloud to love him and accept him. And then he actually cries. It's gorgeous. That's his redeeming moment right there. That's what makes up for everything awful he's done. *sigh* Love that part. Can watch it over and over.

Okay, as for Loz's feelings towards them; you are right. Loz loves them equally as brothers but he probably IS more infatuated with Yazoo, simply because Yazoo has been nicer to him in the past. And is way prettier and more feminine than Kadaj. He don't have huge boobs though ;) but Loz is very much attracted to the girlier aspect that Yazoo has. Hell, isn't that why WE all love him too?

I love imagining what their past could have been like since you get NO explanation whatsoever from the film as to where they came from or how they ended up looking like they do or having the powers that they have. It's a huge mystery and what's great about it is that as authors we can create any background we wish for them and it seems believable. I, like many others, tend to gravitate towards the whole cloned-in-a-secret-lab thing because it would explain a hell of a lot. (I am actually planning to write another fic after this one and in it I will go more in depth with their past and what they have been through)

I dig that Loz is so honest and blunt. I really do. At least you know where you stand with him and he doesn't pretend to be anything he's not. If he hates you, you'd know it by the way his fist is smashing into your face and if he likes you, you'd know that too. I think despite his roughness he'd be very gentle with someone he liked. For example, Marlene. He beats Tifa unconscious and kidnaps Marlene but then he saves her from having to drink the tainted water in the pond and protectively keeps her close to him, letting her cling to his leg. It's very sweet of him in a strange kind of way and it saddens me when people write him as just a moron to be made fun of. :( He's more complex and intriguing than he's usually given credit for. Hence, this fic right here.

IntHellsing: Now that Kadaj and Loz have had their moment, it's gonna go back to Yazoo now. That should please you! Although, I think even *I* am getting more infatuated with Yazoo than I should be. It was supposed to be a fic more about Loz but oh well. You get that. :P

Ravenlyn: I'm happy that you all found the last scene funny, with the teasing and stuff. Loz just overreacts wildly to everything and it's rather amusing. One of my fav bits in the film is where Yazoo goes to Reno, "I will not have you refer to Mother in that way." And Loz joins in with, "You big meanie!!" He's so emotional his voice breaks. XD Gets a laugh out of me every time. He doesn't mean to be funny but he so is.

And you're correct, I was just bracing you for the onslaught of smutness that is in this chapter so I hope you've got the airconditioning turned up because it's about to get damn HOT in here!


***


“Show him how sorry we are, Yazoo. Make it up to him.”

“Gladly,” Yazoo purrs.


Part 8.


Putting his hands on my shoulders Yazoo starts to move again, using his knees to lift up and down on my neglected rod which is still notably stiff despite the prior inattention. His hair swings forward, skimming silkily over my chest and nipples, ticklishly light, like being brushed with feathers. It’s lovely and sort of makes me not so irritated with him.

“Forgive us for teasing you, brother,” he says softly, displaying seriousness again. “We were only having fun. You’re delightfully entertaining to be with and we love that about you. Surely you understand?”

I afford a half-hearted nod at his reasoning, only semi-concentrating on what he’s telling me as what’s happening below his waist is much more interesting. From this vantage point I can see everything, and I do mean /everything/, and observing a part of my body going into his and coming out all glisteningly wet is like watching a real-live smut flick. Only better ‘cause I’m starring in it. Realising that I’m not really listening, Yazoo smirks and introduces a hip-swirl on the downward descent.

“Hey, Loz? Did I mention how enormous you are?”

“A couple of times,” I grunt distractedly, still focused on where he’s sinking onto me. When he copies that corkscrew motion on the way up, I slide my hands along his flexing thighs, groaning his name out loud, his marvellous movements causing my grouchy mood to dissipate as if it never existed to begin with. When he’s doing things like this to me there’s no way I can stay mad at him. Or Kadaj, who’s watching us in fixation, that night-cat gleam in his eyes.

“Look at you two. You play so well together,” he remarks in pride, like he’s a proud parent and we’re the wilful children who have just learnt how to get along. Ain’t far from the truth, really. Yaz and I have never gotten along this co-operatively before and he’s never seemed so interested in me. Same goes for Kadaj, who is rubbing his foot on mine while raking idle fingers through my windswept hair, making my scalp tingle agreeably. It’s a pleasant change to get this kind of attention from him instead of the other kind, where he’s yelling at me and hurling smashable objects. Or calling me nasty names. Him not being an arrogant asshole or Yazoo not being distantly detached...it’s a pleasant change indeed.

After they decided it was playtime, my brothers may have teased me a little, which is nothing new, but thus far they haven’t cruelly or spitefully mocked me nor have they hurtfully pointed out my many failings; only given me tons of positive compliments and flattering praise about my body and my masculineness, showing me respectful admiration and even envy for how muscular and tough I am. They’ve made me feel worthwhile, desirable and attractive and I haven’t felt like that since...well...since I was an artificially-fertilised egg splitting apart in a test tube. In other words, never. With everything they’ve said this morning, everything they’ve done and are still doing, Yazoo and Kadaj make me feel good about myself. They make me feel like a mature adult, not an adolescent boy or a messed-up clone with no emotional control.

They make me feel strong. Sexual. Virile.

They make me feel like a man.

Especially Yazoo, since he’s the one treating me like his own personal rocking chair, slowly but surely taking me for the ride of my life. He’s already brought me to one orgasm today and if my irresistible sibling keeps twirling his hips like this, sooner or later he’s going to make that two. I sincerely hope it’s later because I want this day to last as long as possible.

Because this is the best friggin’ day of my creation.

“Get on your back, Yazoo,” Kadaj directs. “Let him take you from above.”

Yazoo obeys, lifting off me and taking all that delicious hotness with him. I’m sorely disappointed for a few moments until I remember what Kadaj just said I could do, eagerly pushing myself up and turning over to find Yazoo laying on the mattress, waiting for me, a vision of nude white splendour on our black sheets. His hair flows underneath him like molten steel, his wispy fringe falling over his forehead and partially covering his left eye. He opens his thighs and raises his knees, elegantly beckoning to me with one hand, inviting me back down with him. I readily accept his offer and climb between those long legs, bracing myself over him with both arms so I don’t crush his fragile build with my heavier weight. His lean thighs enclose me as I guide myself to the right place and re-enter him, the new position allowing me to slide even further in my brother’s body than before, the walls of his inner flesh well-lubricated with Kadaj’s essence.

“Holy Mother,” I swear thickly at the moist searing tightness all around me. “You feel so nice, Yazoo. So damned nice.”

He looks up at me, his eyes murky with arousal, like the deepest, greenest part of a lake. “The same could be said about you, brother.”

“But you feel nicerer,” I steadfastly maintain, withdrawing to my tip and gliding back into him.

“If you say so,” Yazoo replies, sighing in rapture at my sheer size. “Just give me more of that, Loz. Give me your love.”

“I will, baby. I’ll give you all I got,” I pledge fervently, kissing his exposed snow-white throat. I wish he wouldn’t cover up his neck all the time because it’s slim, graceful and elegant like the rest of him and one that any vampire would find hard to resist. Luckily, I’m not one and I don’t want his blood because I already have it, running through my veins, bonding us in ways mere mortals could never fathom. With tender fingers I stroke Yazoo’s hair and face, revelling in his delicate softness and beauty, worshipping him the way he deserves to be. As I’m loving him with my mouth and my hands and every bit of my heart, I pour the endless emotion I have for him into my kiss and my touch, knowing he can feel it. It’s not necessary but I even say it, bringing my lips to his ear and murmuring how much I care for him – have always cared for him -- and telling him how captivatingly stunning he is to me, like a silvery seraph fallen from the stars, divine and celestial, just like our sacred Goddess Jenova. All right, I don’t say it so poetically and descriptively but he gets the picture. More than all of us, he takes after our mom. I’ve never met her in person but I see Mother in my dreams when she visits me at night and Yazoo is just as breathtakingly beautiful as she is. I’m not sure if I’ve said something wrong or something I shouldn’t have because after I tell him that Yazoo lets out a muffled sob, a lone tear trickling down his face, swiftly followed by another one.

“Please don’t, Yazzie,” I whisper in sudden distress, interrupting the droplets on his cheeks with soothing kisses, tasting wet saltiness upon my lips. “Never wanna see you cry. Never want you to be sad.”

He shakes his head, whispering back hoarsely, “Not sad. Not at all.”

“Oh. Those are happy tears?”

He lifts his dark lashes, beads of moisture caught in them like diamonds, and awards me the sweetest smile. “Very, very happy. And I never said you could stop.”

Happy that he’s happy, I grin back and resume keeping my promise to him, giving him not only my love but my body, sliding into him with delectably smooth slowness, our flesh joining and separating, joining and separating, my belly pressed to his, mine firmer and his slightly softer. He’s getting that high-on-drugs appearance again, his head drooping back on the pillow and his eyes beginning to flutter shut in enthralled euphoria.

“Let him know how he feels, Yaz,” Kadaj persuades, before Yazoo gets too caught up his own pleasure to speak. “Tell brother what it’s like to have him inside you.”

He pushes back Yazoo’s straight, alloy-coloured tresses to murmur in his ear. “Tell brother what it’s like to have his huge, hard cock in your pretty little ass.”

Trust Kadaj to take a precious, special moment between Yazoo and I and turn it dirty. I don’t think Yazoo minds, though. I can feel the frisson of excitement that runs through him at hearing Kadaj talking filthy like that. Sorta gives me a frisson too; a quivery thrill that originates in my solar plexus and unfurls down into my gut and groin, tightening them both.

Doing what Kadaj told him to, Yazoo says to me, “You feel incredible, Loz. Simply, amazingly incredible.”

“Yeah?” I ask keenly, wanting to hear more.

“Mmm. You’re so big. So thick. I’ve never been this filled before.” He rocks his hips up into mine and sighs. “It’s quite wonderful.”

Aiming to fill him even further, I slip one hand under the side of his hip, wedging it between the bed and his bottom, lifting him up while simultaneously pressing downwards with my pelvis, pushing into that snug central slickness.

“Oh. Oh Gods, yes. Like that,” he urges, digging his heels into the mattress and bearing against my intruding wideness. “Want all of you in me. Want you deep...”

The breathy sexiness of his voice and what he’s saying nearly makes me lose my mind. I’m itching to bang him right into the bed, fast and rough, until neither of us can remember what day of the week it is but now that I know how large I am, I have to be extra aware of my actions. The last thing I want is to injure my slenderer sibling with coarse carelessness so as continue thrusting into him I do it mindfully and cautiously, holding back and keeping myself and my supernatural strength restrained for his sake.

“There’s no need to be gentle. Our brother can handle whatever you give him. Trust me, I know,” Kadaj advises. “Do him as hard as you want. Work that beautiful body. He can take it.”

If Kadaj says that, it must be accurate since he’s been doing this a lot longer than I have and so I drive piercingly into Yazoo’s thin figure, all the way up to the thickest part of my base, gaining great satisfaction when he twists underneath me on the bed, gasping at the total impalement. I draw back and shove into him again, making him accept me as deeply as he possibly can; my motions masterful, almost brutal, letting him feel what pure possession and domination is. If I were hurting him, he’d be able to throw me off and halfway across the room like he does during training exercises but he gives no resistance. Plus those don’t sound like gasps of discomfort. I should know; I’ve hurt enough people to tell the difference.

As I pound into him the way I’ve always wanted to do, the mattress bounces beneath us, and Kadaj along with it, his hair swinging into his face. He absently tucks it back behind an ear so he can see unobstructed, probably for the first time in his life. On the receiving end of the poundage, Yazoo starts to clutch hungrily at me, acting in a manner I’ve never seen him, my normally restrained brother morphing into an insatiable wild thing, wanting more and wanting it now. He never actually says anything to urge me on, not a single word, but he doesn’t have to. Hearing him let out short, high, “Uh, uh, uh’s,” with each thrust says everything I need to know. Listening to Yazoo moan like a female porn star is a novel source of entertainment as I didn’t know he could make these kinds of sounds. In all the nights I’ve heard them two getting down with it, I ain’t never heard Kadaj make him cry out like this and I hope my younger brother is just a tiny bit jealous that I’m the one Yaz is yelping for now. Serves him right for selfishly hogging Yazoo all these years and not sharing him with me.

When my longer-haired sibling scratches his manicured fingernails demandingly and viciously across my back I snarl bestially and do him rougher, his feral appetite a massively big turn-on to me. Inside his refined, sophisticated exterior, I never knew Yazoo was such a greedy little slut but I love it, gazing victoriously down at the expression of eroticism on his face, eyes closed and mouth open and panting, his cheeks flushing hotly as his core temperature rises. Like I was instructed to, I work him hard, spreading his thighs wide apart and forcing him to accept every inch of my seam-splitting largeness, jabbing into his slick heat again and again, bruising and battering him with my hips, wanting to make it difficult for my brother to even stand up tomorrow, let alone walk. And just like Kadaj said, he takes it all.

“Stop,” I’m abruptly told, Kadaj laying a cautioning hand on my arm. “Don’t move.”

Even though I’d dearly love to keep going until I make Yazoo spurt all over himself, I do what I’m ordered to and halt, the only movement I make being the rise and fall of my chest as I breathe fast with the previous exertion. At my stillness, Yazoo gives a needy whimper, lifting up and trying to pull me closer but with me not helping it’s much like trying to shift a boulder.

Turning to him Kadaj warns, “Not yet.”

“Kadaj, please,” Yazoo implores in desperation, sounding like he’s right on the brink of orgasming. “Let me.”

“No,” Kadaj answers coldly. “I said not yet. Don’t ask me again.”

Proving he can also follow orders, Yazoo slumps dutifully back against the bed, quitting his pleading. Before he looks away from Kadaj I could swear there’s a shard of anger in his normally peaceful gaze. If Kadaj saw it, he doesn’t chastise Yazoo, just reaches between our bellies to grasp my middle brother’s unsatisfied maleness in his hand, holding his thumb firmly against a particular pressure point in Yazoo’s shaft. Yazoo squeezes his eyes shut, biting back another whimper at the cruel touch on his sensitively inflamed flesh. I feel bad for him being deprived of the release he visibly needs but Kadaj would reprimand me or worse if I defy his precise instructions. He might be my baby brother but he’s a harsh, uncompromising boss and we’ve learnt the hard way to just do what he says and not argue.

“Relax, Yaz. Slow it down,” Kadaj soothes, softening his voice. “When you let go I want to be right there with you so I need you to hold on a bit longer. Will you do that? Will you wait for me?”

Nodding his head, Yazoo inhales a few unsteady lungfuls of air, the press of Kadaj’s thumb dulling his critical urgency down to an acceptable stage. When Yazoo finally opens his eyes again, there is calmness and dignity in the aqua-green orbs, having regained rule over himself.

“I’m sorry,” he quietly apologises to Kadaj. “That won’t happen again.”

“Good boy,” Kadaj replies, releasing him and bending down to briefly kiss Yazoo’s brow. “Not that I don’t like it when you go crazy, babe; it’s just that this is our first time with brother and I want it to last. For all of us. Understood?”

Something passes between them, some unspoken comprehension, and Yazoo nods compliantly.

“Understood. I live to serve you, Kadaj,” he says. “You and Mother through you.”

Anyone who didn’t know us might think Yazoo is simply saying what Kadaj wants to hear, uttering these words like a brainwashed cult member, but the thing is; Yazoo really means it. With his personality type he needs to be led, to be given purpose and direction by someone stronger and more decisive than him. If Kadaj wasn’t here Yazoo would wander around aimlessly with nothing to do until he fell down a mine shaft or something. Either that or he’d mope around the lair and not eat until his already-skinny self wasted away into a pile of withered bones and dry, cracked leather. I know as well as he does that carrying out Kadaj’s every wish is why he gets up in the morning.

Serving Kadaj and making him happy is Yazoo’s sole reason for existing on this planet.

“And what about you, Loz?” Kadaj focuses his power-hungry gaze my way. “Do you live to serve me too?”

“Of course. I always do what you tell me to and I always will,” I impassionedly avow. “I would do anything for you, no matter what it is. You know that.”

Clearly pleased with the conviction of my answer, he returns, “Yes. I do know that.”

“Then why’d you make me say it?”

“Because I like hearing you say it.” He grins and pretends to shiver. “Makes me all tingly inside.”

I make a vexed sound of exasperation, somewhere between a groan and growl. This is why, despite my unending devotion to him, I find my shorter sibling so wearisomely testing at times. He has us wrapped around his little finger, utterly at his beck and call like willing slaves, and he fully realises it.

Still grinning like an evilly possessed boy-doll, Kadaj continues naughtily, “You know what else I’d like?”

“What?” I reply jadedly, preparing myself for more of his self-amusing games.

“I’d like us to be closer. Much, much closer.” His voice has that alluring, purring quality again. “Would you like that as well, my big, handsome brother?”

“Yeah. Hell yeah, I would,” I reinforce, admitting the true level of my feelings towards him because I don’t see the point in hiding it any longer. “Shit, Kadaj. You should know /that/ too.”

Proving that he does, he gives a smirk. “So, let’s get close, shall we?”